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kalims · 2 months

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pop !

giving them a balloon with a confession in it and running away,

premise. out of confession ideas? sick of the pile of stupid papers crumpled up on the leg of your desk? or perhaps you're just in the 'you only live life once' mindset. since the school year is ending, why not get rid of the annoying feeling of him tingling your mind? (in the form of a balloon, you never said you were gonna stick around!)

characters. all sorted by dorm

content. mc runs away after giving it, based on a tiktok I stumbled across approximately a year ago... mentions of marriage (one sign and some were speeding through the future)

note. savanaclaws part hmmm yummy

heartslabyul

unsurprisingly, riddle gets a lot of bizarre things from students and professors alike. confessions are one thing but having one in this... circular, red, full of helium balloon is certainly a surprise. creative, he'll give them that. if anything he's just confused with it in his arms as you just sort of, shove it in his arms and run away. he recognizes you easily but once cater plucks it out of his grip and shows him the message he just turns red.

trey is the type of guy to accept whatever you give him, honestly. it doesn't matter if you give him the most random of items, he'll take it without a single word of query (unless it's really questionable.) you could hand him a bottle of mustard in class, trey'll just blink and hold onto it patiently. a pair of batteries? thanks he guesses. a red, inflated balloon? he spares you a questioning glance but you're already collecting dust with how fast you ran away so he turns it and resists a smile. clearly spotting the bold letters.

the opposite of clover, cater just doesn't take anything from you unless it piques his interest or is just a casual 'hold onto this for a few' like water or something. things bordering past unusual is what he'd hesitate to take, though less given he trusts you. sometimes he doesn't take it all together simply cause he doesn't feel like it. caters probably updated on everything so when you shove the balloon in his arms and beeline he's pulling out his phone ready to scream his ass off in his dump account. (also gotta magicam this, duh.)

will most likely just dump it on the ground without another thought. or hand it back to you. ace does not care about balloons, he might even pop it in your face. that is, if you stayed for more than a second. he feels more inclined to peer further cause you ran away so fast. you looked embarrassed, and he finds out quickly why you'd proceed to never show up to his face for the following week when he spots it. stares at it dumbly for like, a minute before taking off after you... be scared ig.

added to the top ten best moments of his life note on his phone. deuce silently highlights your name on it with the same angry, red bump on his forehead because he accidentally ran into a pole midst trying to find you around the campus. he had the same idea as ace (twins) which is finding you immediately except once he read the confession he promptly lost all his braincells in the process. so he's very excited, slash embarrassed, slash shy? and can't conjure any logic cause it's just your face.

savanaclaw

jokes on you. you think he's gonna make an effort to catch your stupid balloon? leona just watches it drop to the floor. the effort is only exerted when he's absolutely sure you've run away on your slow legs, he's not bashful—not at all. maybe that's just denial speaking though. he takes one look at the balloon, and pops it with a single dig of his nail. the stare is so brief that you'd doubt if he ever read it at all, when the evidence of your apparent love is now non-existent in the physical world, very much still lingering inside him. leona comes to the predicament that he can't seem to sleep days after.

ruggie is all too familiar with the lack of appreciation some folks hold towards cheaper material gifts. like a luxury jewel, a big, shiny lil' thing ultimately rotting in the closet of some soul cause its the 'price' that counts. he spots the words easily, discerning the black ink. not entirely formed with straight lines, the keen eyes of his spots the wriggles some hold. as though whoever wrote was nervous and he bores an impish grin. (and some back corner of his closet holds no big, pricey jewel, but the deflated balloon is worth all the more to him.)

more likely to leave it on accident. after falling victim to the annoying pranks his other first year 'friends' like to do, with him as the victim apparently. he's more suspicious of it than anything, jack does not want a face full of whipped cream once again. he stares at it like it's an alien and only goes for the initiative to take it into his hands when it rolls and showcases the very bold text, highlighted and straight to the point. jack inevitably ends up accidentally popping it due to the fear that some other person probably saw it, he did not mean to wreck it. atleast not with a messy chain of thoughts, but hey. atleast he got the message...

octavinelle

well versed in catching you in a gentle manner, if you ever slipped (he definitely did not practice.) so azul's reflexes respond quick enough to capture the red little thing with ease. he recognizes it as one of your antics, and he rarely doesn't humor them since it was harmless ones that don't really get under his skin, unlike that of the tweels... the curiosity of looking forward to whatever you had far outweighed any annoyance, and great sevens he might actually combust. ("JADE PREPARE THE LOUNGE—") <- absolutely ready to initiate the plans he had detailed through a script ages ago if this were to ever happen, with a red face. ha, ha.

either clueless, or already got an idea based entirely on the adorably stiff look on your face. jade easily puts two and two together, it's quite funny because he picks it up and doesn't spare a single look. stalking off to find you immediately, and only then does he take a peek as to whatever made the balloon special, right in front of you cause apparently he's gotta witness your raw embarrassment in the flesh?

floyd is likely not interested in the ball in the first place, he thinks you want to play catch so he runs after you with a laugh that... makes you a lot more concerned. he flings it uselessly to the face of some poor soul before he sprint after you, probably traumatizing them when they spot the 'I like you' on it, and when they realize they got it from the resident terrorist whose definition of 'I like you' is 'you're entertaining, I'm gonna keep on playing with you'. (only blinks when you tell him about it, seeing as he isn't close to releasing you anytime soon from his arms.) caught you!

scarabia

sparkles, around the sun... too bright... kalim's blinding everyone else with his obvious joy. almost immediately turns it and it's clear he saw something he really liked cause he has one of those grins, really wide, showing off his teeth and his face scrunches up to the point where you could barely spot the red irises of his eyes. his lips are wobbly too! and he thought the notion was simply too cute... (so much he just had to send it back, so you could feel what he felt too!) except it comes in a hundred times balloons inside your home.

really confused. is this supposed to be a new form of comfort in the era that he hasn't caught up with yet? jamil does nothing much to stop you from running away, yeah. that's your choice but it did strike an inkling of suspicion in him. with the way you aggressively shoved the balloon in his arms before you ran away makes him think it's contents are supposed to be for him only. seeing as you collected dust with that sprint, so he brings it home. and damn, thank god he did because seven forbid if anyone else actually saw the flicker of bashfullness in his expression, hopefully not his warming ears either.

pomefiore

you try to fool him by not rushing up to him, shoving it and then speeding away for once. but instead calmly placing it in his arms and then walking away like it might be the last time yall have a friendship haha (👀) vil sees right through you either way. dare I say he thinks the whole execution is strange, he means, you could literally just walk up to him and say the exact same thing written on the balloon and he would've loved it either way but eh, atleast you got it out!

don't walk into his room cause you will probably the very prominent place the balloon has in his room. rook surprisingly did not put it on a pedestal which is tame for his nature, but it does have a place in the corner of stuff he absolutely adores. you'd think you'd spared yourself from the embarrassment of seeing his reaction cause c'mon, that was a confession. it's nerve-wracking! but NO cause you spy him outside the window of your class and suffer a heart attack (3rd floor btw)

wherever he read that, epel's jaw drops. people would mistake him as someone who escaped from a mental asylum from the way he's gaping at a balloon like he just got told vil schoenheit got canceled on magicam for some controversy (he in fact, did not.) spends so much time staring at it, and the following where he's managed to snap out of it is spent also staring off into the distance *wedding bells ringing*

ignihyde

uuuuhhhhh... either send it to him digitally or shove it inside his room and dip?? if we're going with the latter, idia doesn't even notice until like, a day after cause he's been playing for. and it isn't even him who notices!! it's ortho!!! even if he did find it he would've ignored it, but behold, ortho, who reads the text in a hilariously flat tone. idia thought his brother was professing his love until the boy reveals it was from you. (nearly falls off the chair, then actually falls when he realizes it's been a day. imagine getting ghosted irl haha)

ortho could be the delivery boy if you're too embarrassed lmao. will help you in constructing a more poetic way with words but honestly the "YOU'RE CUTE LETS DATE" gets it done. boy probably doesn't understand why you don't wanna do it yourself, and records the entire thing, reaction of the person? forwarded to you until he leaves. but now you're suffering through wanting to watch, and not because you're too pussy to actually do it.

diasomnia

what... malleus is the equivalent of '???' like he's seen a few of these unique, forms but he never got the purpose of them. so he assumes it's like, some nice gift of human traditions question mark. so he appreciates it either way, he looks content honestly which is funny cause the terrifying wizard looks kinda silly holding that balloon like it's a child. actually you should've just gave him a blank balloon cause once he spots the confession, oh honey. are you fine with early marriage?

if you can't find lilia might as well yeet the balloon in the ceiling. chances are, he's there and he's gonna catch it. there's already a cheeky smile quirking up the ends of his lips, usually he'd have some sort of retaliation on the personal attack you inflicted on his heart but oh dear, it's strangely blank. he's humming, the round thing upside down as he rubs his chin in contemplation. everyone's just scared at the echoing giggles of the already dark hallway.

an attack? AN ATTACK! unlike lilia who knows how to use the figurative words youth joke about all the time, sebek is... hilariously serious about most things, if not so much that it strikes just a teeny tiny concern in your mind. honestly you didn't take much into account, not the fact that he might consider it as an assault or something because you're already speeding away. apparently not having gotten too far cause he catches up easily and holds you up by the back of your collar like a cat. (you'd most likely have to mention the words cause all he registered was the apparent attack, when he does check he goes redder in the face and accidentally drops you. nows your chance to run!!)

*angelic voice singing* silver, my boo boo, I mean what...? felt something soft being squeezed into his arms, he knew it was you but assumed it was a pillow so he just?? used it as a pillow?? under his head now?? most folks would be confused at the sight of the sleepy guy laying on a balloon cause, one, it might pop and startle everyone in vicinity, two, there's words scribbled on it. although cut off since his head is blocking the way, but the 'LIKE YOU' is really obvious. so he wakes up, glances at it and goes back to sleep, except he couldn't cause the balloon actually popped comically the same time he absorbed it in.

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joyflameball · 5 months

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If any other FNAF fans wanna throw in your favorite fucking insane FNAF facts PLEASE do

VAGUE explanations under the cut (please know I feel like that xkcd panel about overestimating the average person's knowledge of a topic right now)

the bite of 87 isn't important to the lore: It comes up ONCE in the first game, barely effects the lore, we don't even know who it happened to, literally its only lore impact is that the animatronics can't walk around during the day anymore. meanwhile the bite of 83 is incredibly likely to be the inciting incident that caused the murderer to do the murders. the "WAS THAT THE BITE OF 87" meme is not the bite of 87

golden freddy might have two souls: in the final fnaf 3 cutscene the bad end has golden freddy's head with two lights in it, and in the survival logbooks it's heavily implied there are two spirits rummaging around in there. there's more evidence but it's funnier if i don't tell you. the generally accepted canon is that golden freddy is possessed by a little boy named evan and a little girl named cassidy which is so genderweird of them

there are two purple guys and only one of them is actually purple: purple guy one is a murderer who killed at least six children. purple guy two is a rotting corpse who had his organs scooped out and possessed his own dead body to hunt down his father (who is purple guy one) and set him on fire twice. purple guy one is also a rotting corpse but he's in a fursuit

foxy has weird fucking genders: the foxy from the first few fnaf games is a guy and is referred to with he/him pronouns. in sister location, there's a foxy called funtime foxy, and when you select "girls night" in the custom night, they're one of the contestants. and in ultimate custom night, mangle (a really fucked up version of foxy) is referred to with he/she pronouns. this is canon and makes my gay little heart very happy

fnaf takes place in utah: fnaf takes place in utah

one of the novels had matpat mpreg: okay it's technically not matpat it's a guy named mat. however it's hilarious to say it's matpat. no this isn't a joke there was mpreg. with springtrap. i refuse to explain this

purple guy (the murderer one) might also be a yellow guy: in pizza sim there's a minigame with lore in it where you play a yellow mustard man who's a terrible father. it's theorized a lot that he may be the ourple guy because his son has grey text. no we don't know why he became yellow. he's never yellow again except when he's one of the comical amount of bunnies (there are like ten different bunnies in fnaf)

there are eight dead kids: we even know their names!

purple guy and his family are all british: in the opening cutscene to sister location, we hear the voice of one "mr. afton", who is the purple guy (the one who killed kids). he's british. throughout sister location, we hear the voice of a little girl, who is heavily theorized to be afton's daughter- elizabeth afton. one piece of evidence for this is that she is also british. and in the final cutscene of sister location, we hear the voice of someone named michael (who is the purple guy who's actually purple), talking to his father, and saying he's gonna come fucking KILL him, right before springtrap (purple guy) is shown and guess what michael's fuckin british. fnaf takes place in utah and no other characters are british. it's just the aftons.

there are three different jeremys and they all die: jeremy fitzgerald from the second game is heavily theorized to be the bite of 87 victim. one of the missing children is named jeremy and is possessing one of many bunnies. in the vr game a guy named jeremy is haunted by one of many bunnies and cuts his own face off. i personally find it hilarious to headcanon that jeremy fitzgerald is also jeremy from vr and maybe even the jeremy who got killed by william afton. especially considering the time traveling ballpit

bears are canonically extinct: in security breach, handunit mentions this in ONE LINE. it is not lore important. it is never mentioned again. objectively the funniest possible thing steel wool could've done

what the fuck is going on in fnaf: Buddy this is barely scratching the surface I haven't even talked about the child sized compartment in Circus Baby. You don't even know about the Charliebots or the Nightmare Gas. Do you even know about the Mimic. Do you have any idea what remnant is. There are ten different bunnies who are all also the same bunny. If you get into FNAF lore you will exit a changed man. Nothing here matters. There is a time travel ballpit

Anyway Cassidy isn't the Vengeful Spirit Michael is read that excellent Google Doc by @/whencartoonsruletheworld and THANK ME LATER

#cassie rambles #five nights at freddy's #fnaf

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akanemnon · 2 months

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heard about the undertale mod

undertale red and yellow

fun fact , the germans use the same name same to say to ed ketchup and mustard to their fries

Yeah, I heard about it over on Twitter.

But I've never heard about any Germans eating fries with ketchup and mustard. At least no one I know does. But then again, I don't speak for all of Germany. You might be thinking of Pommes Rot Weiß though (fries red white), which is fries with ketchup and mayo. That is a very popular combination over here.

#ask #ask akane

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bibibbon · 3 months

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MHA mustard deserved better

Mustard is a character that many of us forget but surprisingly his character really stuck to me for some reason.

Mustard is around 13-14 years old and was part of the training camp attack. His quirk is known as gas and looks very similar to midnight it also has a very similar effect to midnight's. I think that it's such a shame that his story was never explored and that we never got much of what happend to him. We don't even see him in the final arc. All we are told is that mustard is captured by the police after the attack and is then imprisoned to never seen him again.

I think that if MHA wanted to truly and properly redeem villains or explore the idea why villains became the way they are we should of gotten more exploration when it came to mustard. You can easily assume that mustard probably had a horrible life that drove him to villainy because how is it that you become a villain and don't have enough of anything to change out of your middle school uniform. How is it that a 13-14 year old knows how to wield a gun and there are so many more questions like how was mustard treated?

Personally I would have it so that we are shown more about mustard. How did he end up where he is? How did shigaraki even allow him to join? Did he somehow stumble or was in the wrong place at the wrong time and just got swept by the crowd? Who taught him how to wield a gun? And so many other questions to build his character. Mustard felt like an empty character with wasted potential. From the little amount of screentime we can tell that he acts like a child and is a bit annoying like a middle schooler would be but he definitely acts,fights and does so many more things above his age. I personally would be more interested in a tiny arc to explore how society failed mustard. Why is his name mustard anyway? He is one of the only characters who we don't know his real name so does that mean mustard could of been a name a bully gave him?

For some reason thinking about the character of mustard distinctly reminds me of middle school Izuku midoriya. They seem ironically similar in a way🤷‍♀️.

Also can we talk about how after he gets captured nothing really happens. Like where does mustard go? He is too young to go to prison so does MHA have something equivalent to a delinquent center or juvenile detention? Do they just let mustard rot in jail? Does mustard have a family that tried to fight his case? Did the family get any backlash (like toga's family)? So many questions to think about. Was there or could of there been a rehabilitation programme out up for mustard. Like mustard is young and shows a lot of signs that say "society failed me" or something similar so was there or could of there been something similar to that.

I personally think we should of gotten some mustard and midnight interactions. They have similar quirks with similar effects one became a hero the other a villain they don't have many differences I wonder if midnight struggled with her quirk I wonder how she would interact with mustard.

#mha critical #bnha critical #mha #hori is a bad writer #horikoshi critical #bhna critical #bnha #mustard mha #mustard deserved better #rewrite i guess

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finniestoncrane · 29 days

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🩷🍿 Finnie's 2k Follower Event 🍿💚

🩷💚🩷 EVENT NOW CLOSED 🩷💚🩷 hello and welcome to my silly little cinema 🩷💚🩷💚 this time around i've got options for moodboards, mini playlists, character pairings, and as always, ficlets and headcanons!! as always my little beloveds, read my rules, & send your requests in (and include reader's gender/pronoun/genital info where needed!) i don't know how many requests i'll do (edit: i'll be doing 50 requests for this event, there are still plenty of spaces!!) and i'll try to avoid similar prompts!! (normal requests are still open just now but i won't be writing them or posting them until after the event) along with the drabbles and headcanons, i'll also do a little giveaway of sorts with some commissions, so anyone who asks off anon will be included into a little draw for a free 500 word commission, and i'll pick some winners just to express how much love i have for you all ;-;💚 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2k (to follow or to block)

hi welcome to the cinema!! are you ready to purchase your tickets?

i'll let my date decide [tell me a bit about yourself for a character pairing!]

yes!! [please scroll for options and prompts!]

if you're not here for a date, please choose from the options below and let me know which character you want!! (pick literally any character from my "will write" list! 1 for x reader, 2 for ships)

no more requests for btaa!scarecrow or zero year!riddler, please! their egos will explode lmao

where would you like to be seated? (pick 1 option)

right in the middle [movie soundtrack - mini playlist based on the character]

aisle seat [movie poster - i'll make a little moodboard based on the character]

front rows [short fic/drabble - scroll for the next options!]

back rows [headcanons/short form - scroll for the next options!]

which genre of movie would you like to see? (pick 1)

science-fiction [smut/pwp]

horror [dead dove/something dark]

action [hurt/comfort - physical]

drama [hurt/comfort - emotional]

romantic comedy [tooth rotting fluff]

thriller [angst]

and what would you like in your snack box? (pick up to 3, also yeah whatever my theatre serves fries and burgers!!)

🥤 soda [praise kink]

🧋 bubble tea [posessiveness]

🧃 fruit juice [touch starved, tensing up when shown affection]

🍹 cocktail [acts of care]

🍷 wine [confessing feelings]

🍺 beer ["i didn't mean it... it was an accident"]

🍕 pizza slice [dry humping]

🍔 slider [begging]

🌭 hotdog ["they'd/you'd never feel that way about me"]

🌶️ nachos [comforting through a breakup while pining]

🍟 fries [pet play]

🥓 jerky [oral sex/rimming]

🍿 sweet popcorn [sex as a tension release]

🧂 salted popcorn [watching a movie together]

🧈 butter popcorn ["look at you, you're dripping all over yourself"]

🧀 cheese popcorn [rough sex]

🥨 pretzel [roleplaying]

🍩 donut ["i think i love you"]

🍪 chocolate cookie [biting/licking/sucking]

🌈 rainbow cookie [clumsy first kisses]

🧁 cupcake [cnc/noncon/dubcon]

🍎 fruit cup ["you're going to ruin me"]

🍫 chocolate bar [voyeurism]

🍬 candy ["keep your eyes open, i want you to look at me"]

🍭 lollipop [choking]

🍧 frozen yoghurt [blushing in front of your crush, who finds it cute]

🍨 sundae [blind date]

🍦 vanilla ice cream ["that feels nice... it feels right"]

🍌 banana ice cream [sitting in their lap]

🍑 peach ice cream [spanking/impact play]

🍒 cherry ice cream [a kiss, then a slap, then a returned kiss]

🍓 strawberry ice cream ["your hands are so soft"]

🌰 trail mix [facefucking/face riding]

🥜 peanuts ["you're doing such a good job"]

🧅 grilled onions ["i want to smell myself on you"]

🥒 pickles [humiliation/degradation]

🥬 slaw [memorising the scars/marks on their body]

🔴 ketchup ["you said you'd never be caught dead doing something like this"]

🟡 mustard [piss]

🟢 ranch [feeling safe enough to fall asleep in each others' arms]

🥛 sour cream [cockwarming]

🥚 mayo ["let me show you"]

#finnie2k #follower milestone #x reader #fanfiction #fallout #dc rogues

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fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 2 months

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Out of the blue

König x reader (y/n).

Your best friend convinced you to subscribe on a dating app, you don't have expectations but you're keeping an open mind, on the other hand, König is pretty much in the same situation, Horangi and other guys insisted to him, none of you were expecting a wonderful night.

Warning: age gap, reader is in mid 20's. Grammatical and spelling errors. I think there's no mention of a specific gender but if I wrote some I apologize.

I hope you can enjoy it, as always perhaps it is not a good story but I'm sure someone out there will love this. 🩷

You're sitting, scrolling through the phone, your friends are at a party with a rugby team in a discotheque, your best friend has been insisting, calling you and texting you, even making video calls.

- Y/n please! You have to join us! You can't rot at home every Friday night!

- Working 9 to 5 is exhausting, I pass.

- What will you do tonight if you're not going to have a party or something?

Suddenly a new notification popped on your phone «Someone wants to meet you, Match or reject» then a text «Hi, would you like to go to dinner?»

- Y/N?

- Oh, I... I actually will go to dinner with a guy from that app... Remember?

- Y/N, please be careful, if you go... Send me your location and if something goes wrong call me, ok?

- Yes, mom! I love you, bye!

- Bye-bye!

As soon as you hang up the phone, you open the app and give him a «it's a match!» then responded his text «Hi, for sure, at your house or mine or any restaurant?».

Meanwhile König is sitting in the dining room of his apartment, lonely, he doesn't understand why he listened to Horangi and the rest of the guys.

- This is stupid...

He muttered to himself, he's waiting for your reply, you're the only one that he has sent solitude, nobody else. He's regretting his actions but then, you texted him back, after reading your message he wonders what would be the best option. He stood up and went to the fridge, there was only mustard, a tomato and a beer. Checking in the rest of the kitchen, there's nothing else.

It would be good to go to some restaurant but what if you feel afraid of him? He's massive, the scars on his face, his insecurities are eating him alive.

«i hope you don't mind, your profile doesn't have a photo, may I see a pic?»

-Scheisse.

Would be rude if he says no, also would ruin his chance with someone attractive as you. Oh, how much he hates this, why does he have to be so shy?.

«Ja, no problem, give me a minute :)»

«Thanks, take your time <3»

And actually he's taking a lot of time, is just a simple selfie, that's what he has been saying to himself. After 28 photos he's exhausted, tired and desperate, he doesn't know how to pose for a photo, how not to look intimidating, everything is getting worse in his mind, what if you think he's not what you're looking for? He didn't change his gym clothes, he looks like a mess, also, what if you feel afraid of him and just accept to go on this dinner because you're scared to cancel.

- AHHHH! Scheisse! Ok. Fuck off, let's send all of them.

He's afraid of your answer, he threw the phone to the table.

You're starting to worry, what if he's a fake profile? He's taking too long. Almost 40 minutes, you're considering simply not replying anymore when your phone rings.

«Kö: sent 28 new photos 📷»

Oh god, you hope those are not spicy photos or something. You opened the chat, ready to block him if those are hot pics, but no, Holy Jesus Christ, who is this man? He's tall, wearing shorts and a compression shirt, all black, his entire body looks muscular and strong, then his hair, he has a lot of hair for someone of his age, let's admit it, a lot of men start to lose hair after their 30's- 40's, but he looks good, you make a zoom to observe his face cautiously, there's some scars but if you have to be honest, those scars only makes him more attractive, his eyes are tired but blue like the sky, it only gets better and better. Definitely you can't reject him.

At this point, König is biting his nails, he's feeling very anxious, he hears his phone ringing, fuck, fuck, fuck, he's nervous, he could break easily the spine of the enemy, jump from a plane, disassemble a bomb, even fight against a bear, all that without any anxiety, but this, no, he can't.

He took the phone and went to your chat.

«Y/n: Oh god, you're very handsome» «So, where we will go to dinner? ;) »

He can't believe what he's reading, what did you say? He reads it again, no fucking way. Then he sees you're still on the chat waiting for a response.

«We can go to a good restaurant... If you're ok with that. What do you think?»

«Perfect, you can pick the restaurant, send me the location and I'll see you outside! ;D»

«Kö: sent a location 📍» «Ok, I'll see you at 9 Pm, ja?»

«See you! P.S. I'm excited! :D»

He sent the location of a small Italian restaurant close to the city center, which is expensive but he has a hunch about this night and also he doesn't mind spending much money, after all, he has been working hard for it.

You investigate the place, Italian food, your favorite food, the place looks really nice, casual, you like that. You change clothes and get ready, lucky for you, you live not so far from the center, it'll take you 18 minutes to arrive at the restaurant. You're not nervous, you're actually very excited, for the first time in months you're truly excited to have a date, maybe it will be a mess or... Maybe not, who knows? You keep that open mind and that optimism.

König arrived on time. He's checking his phone to see if you texted him while he was on the way, but no. He can't avoid thinking that maybe you will not come or something happened to you, he could be more polite and offered to pick you up at your home and arrive together. He's cursing himself when a sweet voice brings him back to reality.

- Hey

- Oh, hi... I'm König.

- König?

- Ja... (fuck, you maybe think he's giving you a fake name or something, god somebody save him!)

- It's very original, I like it, I'm y/n.

You're too kind, you're even giving him a big smile.

- Nice to meet you, y/n, I like your name too.

- Thank you! So what if we continue this conversation inside?... Let's go, I don't want to be rude but I'm so hungry!

- Sure, let's go, I'm hungry too.

As soon as you sit, there's a connection, you talk a lot, he laughs and laughs, the dinner is delicious, both share their food with each other, drinking beer and enjoying the moment, he talks to you about his job, just a little but you're fascinated by him and everything he's telling you.

(...) «No! I swear! I did a lot of sports and activities when I was a kid!» (...) «Ja! We were Falling and he didn't wake up! The plane was in flames and he was sleeping like a baby!» (...) «No, I was at home while my parents were at parties and doing all that was actually expected from someone of my age!» «Rugby and Hockey, beers and whiskey, those are my favorites!» (...) «Ja! I play that one too, I have a PC and PS and an Xbox» (...)

By the end of the dinner you and König are almost alone in the restaurant, the waitress comes to tell you they will close soon so König asks for the bill, you offer him to pay the half but he insists it's on him.

Once out, you don't want to go home, neither him but he doesn't know where else to go.

- I have an idea. Let's go, I'll take you to a cool bar that I like to visit sometimes.

- If it is a discotheque or something like that I think I prefer to walk around the city if you don't mind Schatz.

- Oh god, no, König, trust me, you will like this place.

Both are walking side to side, still talking and laughing, you don't have a clue about how much he's enjoying this moment, he's so focused on you that he has forgotten about all the people around who occasionally observe both. You're less shy or introverted than him, he likes that, you're funny, smart, pretty and full of stories.

Finally, you stop in front of a white door with a neon sign "The old dog's Bar", you take his hand and get inside.

There are not many people, it is dark, the illumination in the place is not the best, but it brings a good vibe, the people around are more old than young, the bartender is an old man, very charming.

- Hey Frank!

- Y/n! Welcome, would you like something to drink?

- Sure, whiskey for me and my friend, please, i saw tonight is a band playing, are they still here?

- sure, go, take a seat darling, they took a break but they'll be back soon.

You and König are sitting close to the small scenario, still talking, your drinks are on the table already.

- you will love this, I promise!

- How did you find this place?

- I was passing by one day, and Frank was trying to get some clients, I thought he was a very charming man so I decided to give this place a chance and I instantly fell in love.

- You're very interesting, young people like you maybe prefer to be somewhere else with more activity or something, but not you. You're beautiful, funny, you're smart... What else do I have to know about you, Schatz?

You blush and laugh.

- I'm full of surprises as much as you König! Oh, wait, I have to go to the bathroom, keep an eye on my drink please, I'll be back!

Once you're in the bathroom you text your friend to tell her you're having a wonderful night and that he's interesting and attractive. You were walking back to the table when you heard some guys talking.

«What will we do? I don't know, I'm not too good at playing it!!»

You continued walking and finally you sat, König is staring at you, he's lost in his thoughts observing you until the sound of the band in the scenario interrupts.

- Hey, we're back, we want to thank everyone who's here listening to us, thank you so much! We're close to finishing the show but our guitarist had an inconvenience and left, so, is there someone in the crowd who can help us?

You look around and the few people who are there are still sitting, apparently no one knows or maybe they're shy or not sure about standing up and helping the band. You sigh and look at König, he gives you a shy smile but for you that's enough to give you courage, you stand up from your seat.

- I can do it!

- Oh, sure come here, thank you so much for helping us!

You put your phone and some rings on the table and give a sip to your drink, you look at König once again and without thinking too much you squeeze his shoulder and whisper «I'll be back».

The guys from the band ask you some things about if you know some of the songs on their repertoire, fortunately, you know them well.

- (...) what about the solo guitar on 'Free bird'? Would you do it?

- Trust me, you won't regret it! Also I promised my friend a wonderful night, so... Let's do this.

Some songs by Fleetwood Mac, guns and roses, Red hot chili peppers, Toto, eagles, Depeche mode and finally the song you've been waiting for, Free bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd, you're nervous, you don't really know if you will do it. But just a quick look at König is enough for you to give your best.

König never stopped to look at you, he has been staring at you since you stood up on the scenario with that beautiful black Fender squier classic vibe, he's paying attention to the way you play, indeed, you're nervous but he feels somehow very proud, you're giving the best of you.

He doesn't know why, but he feels like he needs to take a photo of you, maybe the light over you gives you an angelical view, or is his point of view, he doesn't know but he needs to show you how you looked after the show.

You're brilliant, you don't understand how your fingers are moving in that velocity, it has been a while since you played guitar, but you're doing it great, your quick looks to the band and the people around tell you that even they are impressed by your skills.

At the end of the show you run to König smiling and still a little bit shocked by what you did a few moments ago.

It was almost 3 am, you've been out all night, you don't even feel tired, either König, he can't stop talking about the way you played guitar, he's charming, he told you he's shy and don't enjoy to be around many people or talk too much but with you he has been really sweet, open and a truly gentleman. He offered to walk with you and take you to your house, he doesn't feel good letting you go alone.

- I would love to repeat this, König you're a gentleman, I've had much fun and the dinner was really delicious!

- Ja, me too, you're amazing, I won't stop saying it, you were brilliant. I took a picture and a video of you playing, I'll send them to you later!

- Thanks, I promise you this is the best night of my life...

- I... I would like to have a second date too.

- For real?

- Ja, I mean if you don't mind that I'm... You know, perhaps too old for you.

- Are you kidding!? König, you don't even look old! You look better than people with the same age as me, you're thousand times more interesting than them and I already said it, I would love to repeat this!

- Gut!, I'll be working a lot this month though, but we can organize another date, check our schedules and all that.

- For sure, whenever you can, I'll be ready! Well... This is where I live.

Both walked to the door of your building, and talked a little bit more, he kissed your hand and then both said goodbye. You were closing the door of your apartment when your phone buzzed, you checked all the notifications, one was from König.

«Kö: Sent a new photo 📷 , sent a new video 📷»

You were looking at them when a new message appeared on the chat.

« I can't wait to see you again, Liebling. Thanks for the most amazing night of my life, sweet dreams Mein Schatz :D»

Needless to say that you jumped and ran through your apartment like a child on Christmas. You and König had more and more dates, eventually a first kiss, a first anniversary, etc.

Who said you can't find true love on dating apps?.

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fanaticsnail · 4 months

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Australian Luffy

Just chatting with @sordidmusings and preparing her for her trip down-under has my brain rotting with what ifs, specifically:

What if Luffy was Australian?

And so, here he is. Monkey D "Loz" Luffy.

TW: bad Photoshop.

He abbreviates everything.

A Bogan with a heart of gold.

Everyone gets a nickname, all said with a nasally crackle in his accent.

When he walks into a venue, it automatically pops off with some proper Hilltop Hoods bangers:

Monkey D Loz is a right mate. Ready to help a guy out at the drop of his corkstring-hat (keeps the mozzies away).

Peak cuisine for Loz is a Bunnings Snag on a barbie, topped with tomato sauce - better yet if he adds yeastie Vegemite spread, burnt onions and mustard.

He's a Cottie's Cordial kid. Red is his favourite. What does it taste like? It tastes like 'Red.'

"Au Naur" - More HC and dialogue below the cut:

Inkeeper: "I'm sorry, all the rooms have been taken. I only have a small self-contained ensuite outside."

Loz: "What? Like a granny flat?"

Zeff: "You're goin' to settle your debt one way or another, chore boy."

Loz: "C'mon, Big Zeff. Sanga's a mate. He'll give us mates rates."

Small child: "Thank you so much for saving us, Monkey D Luffy."

Loz: "Hey, no dramas."

Nami: "Luffy, grab the helm. We've got to turn the ship around!"

Loz: "What Nazza? You wanna chuck a yewy?"

Zoro: "Oi, Luffy. Boa's askin' boucha."

Loz: "Hold up, Zozza. Gotta chuck me thongs on"

These are the Aussie abbreviations for a few characters' names:

Roronoa Zoro: Zozza

Blackleg Sanji: Sanga (play on words, this is what we call a sandwich).

Usopp: Soppa

Nami: Nazza

Nico Robin: Robbie

Tony Tony Chopper: Chop-Chop (after chopper reed: an Aussie criminal icon)

Franky: Frangsta

Brook: Brookie

Trafalgar D Water-Law: Trazza

Portgas D Ace: Azzo

Sabo: Sabsta

Helmeppo: Meppaz

Koby: Kozzy

Red-Hair Shanks: Shazza

Dracule Mihawk: Hawko

Buggy D Clown: Bugsta

Sir Crocodile: Croco

Benn Beckman: Bazza

My personal favourites:

Donquixote Doflamingo & Donquixote Rosinante: Mingas and Nunce

@since-im-already-here, Sanga's defo got Ciggy butt brain. He's always bummin' ya lighters. He smokes Winnie-Blues and drinks goon.

Notes: Yes, can confirm. These are real things. @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @cinnbar-bun @carrotsunshine @vespidphoenix @sexc-snail I thought you'd all appreciate some unhinged Aussie thoughts and slang from "Monkey D Loz"

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purple-scrunchie · 1 year

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Heathers Headcanons that Live Rent-Free in my Brain

(Some of these are new, some have been rotting in my notes app since January lol also LONGPOST WARNING up ahead.)

Veronica:

Was also a wolf kid (iykyk), wore those dog ear headbands to school from the middle of 3rd to the beginning of 5th grade

Has a pet corn snake named Cornelius. She's had him since she was 12 and loves him dearly

Can't even be trusted with a toaster in the kitchen, can and will find a way to set something on fire

Her favorite movie series is Indiana Jones. She loves the thril of the action scenes and the concept of carefree adventuring

Fucking unstoppable at just dance. She wins by a landslide every time

Had one of those giant picture encyclopedias as a kid

Despite spending so much time journaling and studying people's handwriting, hers is still a mesy disaster (this annoys Chandler to no end)

Likes to doodle in her journal too

has been journaling almost every day since she was 8. She keeps all of her old finished journals in a locked box under her bed

Loves making friendship bracelets for everybody she appreciates

Was absolutely a band kid. She played trumpet but quit sophomore year because she couldn’t stand Kurt and Ram anymore (they were just there to get some elective credits in)

Heather Chandler:

Hates everyone except her favorite three people (Duke, Mac, and Ronnie) And sometimes even them

Gets fucking livid when people touch her stuff without asking (this includes Veronica)

Especially if you touch her hair/skincare stuff (which is one of those 989,752,300 step process ones)

If she doesn’t get her beauty sleep, she’s even more of a megabitch than usual

Super protective of her friends and loyal to a fault. Once you're in her inner circle, there's no escape

Speaks french fluently

Most of the time she spends with her parents is on the whole-summer trips to France they drag her on. She despises these with a burning passion

Learned how to paint in France, and she's gotten pretty good at it over the years

Has gorgeous, looping cursive handwriting and insists on writing everything in red ballpoint pen. (Her teachers hate this)

Almost always has really vivid lucid dreams. She writes them down in a dream log and they’re her main artistic inspiration

Secretly loves Romance novels. Will read them and giggle like an excited 12-year-old when she's alone

Heather McNamara:

Was super clumsy before she started cheer. It’s definitely not as bad as before, but it’s still there. She’ll still trip over her own feet sometimes

Lactose intolerant, but her favorite drink is milk

Loves to click her pens in class

Goes through chewing gum at frightening speeds (think a pack or more a day)

Is really close to her dad

Whenever her dad goes on a business trip, he brings her a new hair ribbon. She keeps them all in a drawer in her nightstand.

Was the biggest horse girl as a kid

Will still happily talk about horses for hours

Loves astrology even more. Her dad cuts out the horoscope section of the daily paper for her and she keeps them filed away by date and season

Loves to read her friends their horoscopes

Definitely has a million constellation/planet charts all over her walls

If it doesn't have mustard on it, she won't eat it

Carries around a bottle of spicy mustard for this exact reason

Heather Duke:

Literally like 5'0 (152.5 cm)

Will not be caught dead without her heels on

Has two younger siblings, Hunter (12) and Hannah (also 12, they’re twins)

Has a black cat named Gatsby

Gatsby loves to curl up on her neck when she reads, and she’ll absentmindedly scratch behind his ears

Her parents forced her to play the piano from like 1st grade onwards. She has the skills of a concert pianist but hates the instrument with a burning passion

Her car is a 1980 Jeep CJ5

Secretly really likes cars. Will talk to McNamara about cars while McNamara reads her horoscope

Loves to fix her friends' cars

DESPISES condiments. She believes that if you can't eat it plain, it's not worth eating. (the exception to this is hotsauce lol)

Has a bunch of cute stationary and study materials (y'know, all the glittery gel pens and color-coded sticky notes) but uses them for the dumbest things

JD:

5’10 and still growing

Was really into dinosaurs when he was younger. He still has a collection of little plastic ones in his room that he sometimes (though he’d never admit it) gets out and plays with

Cooking shows are his guilty pleasure. He fucking loves being in the kitchen, it’s almost as safe to him as a 7/11

He cooks as a form of self-expression

Loves to bake too, will make things for his friends

Tried to make Chandler an apology cake one time (which did NOT end well for either of them)

One of his most prized possessions is the blue and black friendship bracelet Veronica made for him when they met. He wears the damn thing everywhere and it’s getting beat up

Loves to take walks alone in the dark or the rain. He thinks it’s nice and peaceful

Constantly losing pens. Was it the trenchcoat's fault? Probably. Will he get out of the trenchcoat? Absolutely not.

Hope you found some you enjoy lol, PLEASE feel free to add on/tell me your own/send requests for more!

#scrunchie's ramblings #heathers #heathers headcanons #heathers 1988 #heathers the musical #veronica sawyer #heather chandler #heather duke #heather mcnamara #jason dean

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kyeomyun · 1 year

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2:47 AM

pairings: dad!yunho x gn!reader

genre: fluffy fluff fluff fluff :3

warnings: just yunho and his daughter.... nothing much.

word count: 0.8k

synopsis: it's always the little things that make yunho come to the conclusion that he is truly the luckiest man on earth.

::note: this was just an impulsive write ;-; so ik it sucks :))

Yunho really did take a while to come back in his body after being interrupted from his well-deserved sleep after hearing the loud clash of glass hitting the ground. His mind clattered with the unanswered shower thoughts that swam through his head and foggy with sleep.

The moment Yunho's feet pressed down on the soild wood floor, the goosebumps instantly became making their rightful place on his skin.

Both out of pure alert that someone might have broken in to leave with treasured beauties they will soon just sell off for some green, but also because the floor was freezing.

But now that his brain was more functional and thinking half logical thoughts, he pushed himself out of bed and made sure to make calculated steps to the main area that contained the living room and the kitchen. Each step his feet made was careful as to not creak the false floor board that will let out a high-pitched groan; sure to wake up the whole house.

But the man really didn't know what to expect when he did find himself in the main area.

His mind that painted a masked intruder rummaging through whatever they could get their hands on was soon erased magnificently the moment his eyes made contact with a much more smaller, petite, figure that sat on the edge of the kitchen island.

All he could do was sigh, flicking up the light switch that powered on the kitchen golden glow to finally reveal his daughter putting up a sandwich in a plastic bag and a step stool place right underneath where her feet hanged and dangled.

The little one froze, sandwich midway in the bag as she made eye contact with her father who just stared back at her. A raised eyebrow asking the unspoken question of "why are you awake at almost 3 AM?"

"Garam," started the father, his face unreadable. "Darling, it's late. Why are you up on a school night?" Yunho scanned the tensed shoulders of his little girl, patiently waiting for a response.

"Umm...," The 5-year old hesitated, glancing down at the sliced turkey that sticks out of the 2 slices of bread and the dribble of mustard that made its home on the ziploc. "Making lunch..." The girl paused.

Yunho mouth opened to voice his disapproval since he could have just made a lunch for her in the morning like he always did before she went to school, but he was soon shut down into a puddle after Garam continued running the sentence out of her mouth, "Making a lunch for you,"

The once unreadable expression soon had words splattered all around. Words that expressed pure softness, adoration, every word you will think while looking at a newborn bundled with blankets.

"It's almost done! I just need to write you a note!" Garam squealed out. Hurriedly finishing her mission putting the lone sandwich in its rightful place. Well... before being gobbled down and finding it's rightful place in Yunho's stomach.

Yunho was almost at a loss of words. He couldn't even come to himself to give Garam that parental talk of how unhealthy and brain rotting waking up at such an ungodly time is. All he could do was watch as she laid down the now wrapped sandwich into another, bigger, plastic bag that was full of other foods: An energy drink, a candy bar, pretzel mix, and many more goodies that will power him through majority of the day.

A piece of paper was soon joining the food items in the bag. Garam adjusted herself on her stomach, sliding down on the step stool and reached her arms out for her father.

The greenish puddle mixed with glass and pickles separated the father-daughter duo.

A small shake of his head with a smile as bright as the many stars that casted down appeared once again, Yunho careful to not severaly damage his foot in trying to bring down the small intruder of the night.

"Only read the note at lunch time!" A small pout now present on the girl's face was all it took for him to agree to the simple task at hand.

"And you never wake up at this time again," Yunho remarked right back at Garam to which she just whined and hid her face in the crook of her father's neck.

To say the least, Yunho for sure (sarcastically) enjoyed picking up the mess his daughter made only a few hours after he joined you back in bed and he definitely (not sarcastically) enjoyed when his lunch break came.

Yunho was mid-bite into the smoshed sandwich before a curious Wooyoung appeared behind him, glancing over the older broad shoulders.

"What's the note?" Wooyoung peeked into the bag, up to steal anything that could be hiding inside.

Yunho totally forgot about the small piece of paper Garam mentioned.

But thank god for Wooyoung's sleek attempt to steal any snack he was trying to find because without his careless reminder, he would not have read,

"Why do you have to leave for work again :( i miss you. Work always take you away from me and mommy :( but that's ok! because you make alot and alot and alot of monez! i love you daddy! bai c:"

All Yunho could do was just beam down at the messily written note. His heart swelling with pink ropes of love and rapidly pumping blood through his veins. If you were to see him, you would almost believe hearts made its way to his eyes and visualize the hearts appearing above his head.

The small image of last night. Garam clapping after making her creation for her dad and the small dances while Yunho led her back into her room.

He surely was the luckiest man in the world.

did you enjoy you order?

if so, please reblog, like, (pls), comment, all of that jazz :>

have a good day, sweets hehe ^^

#{🥧} — jada’s recipes ♡#ateez reactions #atz imagines #ateez imagines #atz fanfic #ateez fanfic #yunho x reader #jung yunho x reader #atz yunho #ateez x reader #jung yunho #yunho #ateez

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leslie-redirects-here · 3 months

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#frost #flowers #yellow #mustard #mustard flowers #mustard blossoms #nature #aesthetic #op #death #rot #decay #death decay disintegration desiccation #and even in this there is beauty #and even in this there is life

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spirit-amplified · 1 month

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Poppet Retribution Magick: Unleashing A Bellyful of Misfortune To Bring Financial Ruin

Update 5/7/24: My friend contacted me last night to let me know that Father has reached out and told them they could feel their pain and it has been weighing on him. 😁 He also wants to reconcile! This is exciting news for them and a new opportunity for them to build a relationship and heal together. Once I get the "Ok" from my friend I will release Father from his poppet.

Reader’s Notes: This working was originally constructed for a friend who wanted retribution against their father who abandoned and neglected them during childhood. They opted to hit their father where it would hurt him the most... his pockets... by any means necessary! We decided to go with a less intense sickness working and a working that reflected the weight of my friend's pain and sadness they have carried over the years. Also, if baneful, retribution or justice magick isn’t your jam…just quietly scroll on!! As always, feel free to take what resonates and leave the rest!

I did this working in alignment with the Solar Eclipse for more energy.

Please use safety as always with any working. This working uses fire, a sharp knife, and spicy pepper flakes.

Lastly, I am a "Words" witch... I love words of power (Mercury in my 10th house). You can always opt for no-words or you can record the sayings beforehand and play them on repeat at that step that requires that saying so that you can focus on the actions and energy.

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

When a father walks out on his family, it can feel like the ultimate betrayal. The pain and trauma caused by his abandonment can have lasting effects on everyone involved. But for those who believe in the powers of witchcraft, there may be a way to not only cope with the misfortune of a father's abandonment but also to seek justice for his greed and neglect. This is where witchcraft comes in.

Ingredients:

Mix all the ingredients from the 1st group in a bowl (except the roaches, snakeskin, and thorns) before stuffing. Be aware that the pepper flakes can and will burn your eyes, possibly your skin, and make your nose run.

Thorns – cursing & hexing, pain, discomfort

Stones – pain & discomfort.. I went with 9

Spiderwebs – ensnaring, halting, binding

Ash – suffocation

Wormwood – strife & misfortune

Stagnant Water – rut, stagnate, failed plans

Snakeskin – inhibits growth

Helter Skelter/Cursing Oil – destruction

Dead/Rotting Roaches – causes hardship, strife, infestation of sickness

Poppy Seed – confusion

Mustard Seed -disruption, prevent help

Hot Pepper/Red Pepper Flakes – accelerates, burns

Boneset – cursing

Apple of Peru/Shoo-Fly Plant – Reversing Wealth & Money

1 Poppet - I sewed a picture of "Father's" face to it... thanks FB! When making your poppet, make sure you place a piece of paper with the target's name and DOB inside beforehand.

1 Red Candle

1 Craft knife

1 Needle with Red String

Poppet Stuffing - In folk magick stuffing was quite literally anything that could be used. I choose polyfill... however, feel free to use whatever you like.

Black Cord or String - Binding

Optional: 1 Plant or Something "Alive" to Tether To

Optional: Pictures, Taglocks, Sigils, Petitions - You need at least a full name and date of birth.

Optional: Orange Candles and Road-Opener Oil - To be done beforehand to remove any protections and help with the working hitting harder.

Steps:

Activate the Poppet: “Poppet, I name you _. Your limbs are their limbs. Your flesh is their flesh. Your life is their life. As you suffer, so shall they suffer.”

Then thinking about the life force within... take a deep breath and blow life into the poppet. Think breathing for CPR.

The next step I did was a road opener & path-clearing. I used 5 candles to represent the elements, roads, and planes. Each candle had "Father's" name written on it and then anointed with a road opener oil. You can use whatever method of road opener you want here.

Once the road opener finished I then tethered the poppet to a plant. I did this by tying a vine from the plant to the poppet's arm and energetically tethered them together. Just remember to choose a plant or something that is easily taken care of after.

Tethered to this plant, my work shall be

Bound by nature's energy, I decree

All blow back shall fall upon the tether

For this spell, my power shall weather

With hands held high, I cast my charm

As the plant's roots dig deep, my magic is armed

From earth to sky, the tether extends

My working and this plant, now forever blend

The energy flows, from me to thee

As this plant, my spell's vessel be

Each leaf, each stem, a conduit of power

Growing stronger with each passing hour

No force of nature can break this bond

For my magic and this plant, forever correspond

Together they thrive, in harmony

Tethered as one, for all eternity

So let the winds howl and the storms rage

My spell shall stand strong, in this earthly cage

For all the energy of this spell

Is now tethered to this plant, with magic compel

So mote it be, this working is done

Tethered to this plant, this working is one

Then taking the craft knife cut the poppet's belly open. You will have to more than likely remove some stuffing to make some room for your stuffing. Stuff the poppet with your bowl mixture, stones, dead roaches, snakeskin, thorns, sigils, and what-not.

Swallow your greed with a belly full of stones

For it will bring you nothing but a life full of moans

Chasing after wealth, blind to the harm

Leaves you with a bitter taste, like a snake's charm

Choke on the lies you told yourself

That money and power were the only true wealth

But as you suffocate, reality sets in

Your failure and greed, now it's time to begin

Financial ruin, your once thriving business now failed

Your ego and pride, too great to be bailed

You mistreated your (daughter/son/Pronoun), a soul so pure

Abandoning & neglecting (pronoun), now it's your time to endure

So, Swallow your greed, let it be consumed With each stone, let your finances be doomed.

Then take the needle and thread and sew the belly closed. Once finished, take a red candle and seal the stitches.

Then take your black cord and bind the poppet. I chose to bind "Father" in a pentagram/elemental binding. The binding is started by being tied off at the neck, then the cord is wrapped around the left leg, then the right arm, then the left arm, then the right leg, and then back up to the neck. You can wrap this as many times as you like and you can certainly just bind your poppet however you like.

In the midst of chaos, in the midst of strife,

There lies a number, 5, that brings unexpected life.

It holds the power to shake things up, to make you lose control,

And in its grip, you are left to pay the ultimate toll.

Earth, air, fire, water, and the spirit within,

These 5 elements, a force to reckon and herein.

They bind you to this spell, a spell you cannot break,

And with each passing moment, your foundations start to shake.

The earth beneath your feet, solid and strong,

Yet when it quakes, you realize you were wrong.

The air you breathe, so vital to your existence,

But in a chaotic storm, it shows its true persistence.

Fire, the element of passion and desire,

But when it rages, it leaves you in dire.

Water, so calm and serene in its flow,

But in a flood, it can cause you to let go.

The spirit, the 5th element, unseen yet ever-present,

It binds you to this spell, a force so incessant.

It connects you all in ways you cannot comprehend,

And in its grasp, you are unable to defend.

And as these 5 elements collide and intertwine,

Your finances, too, fall victim to this bind.

For in the midst of chaos, your finances are unable to thrive,

And as your finances crumble, you are left with nothing to revive.

So by the power of 5, you descend,

For it holds a chaotic force that has no end.

And by the elements I bind you to this spell,

Remember, it is not a fight you can ever win or quell.

Once bound, then I untethered the plant and placed "Father" in a bucket of stagnant stormwater to drown in (this is symbolic of all the tears my friend has cried over the years) at the height of totality during the eclipse. I placed a cover over "Father" and there he will stay until the night of the full moon. Then I will take him out and bury him deep in the woods off my property to slowly rot.

#traditional witchcraft #witchcraft #pagan witch #magick #witch #witchblr #folk magic #folk witchcraft #spellcraft #spell work #spellcasting #baneful magic #baneful witch #curses and hexes #witches

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mosscreektarot · 2 years

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Banishing Entities

Clean and cleanse your space. Open doors and windows while you cleanse. As you get to every door, cleanse in a counterclockwise direction and state "I banish all negative energies and entities. Anything that does not serve my highest good (and the good of my family) leave now! (You can add an angry "get the fuck out" here if you wish ;) !)" In a clockwise direction state "I welcome positivity, light, love, healing, cleansing, happiness, abundance, prosperity, (good things etc.) and the protection of Diana (or whomever, you can choose elements, a deity, the universe...)." You can call the corners /elements to assist you as you cleanse the home. Make the sign of a pentagram after you state your intentions to lock the protections in.

Clean and cleanse your mirrors and do the same, but move your cleanser in a clockwise direction to banish and counter clockwise to welcome protection. You can draw pentacles with water and black salt or charcoal powder on all your mirrors and windows.

Make a simmer pot with vinegar and protective herbs/spices (bay leaf, mustard seeds, salt, lemon, black pepper, fennel, rosemary, clove...whatever you have on hand really). If it won't damage your floors, you can strain this mixture and wash your floors with it (dilute with water & add a bit more vinegar). You can make a separate floor wash with just vinegar & water + essential oils as well. You can wipe down your door frames and window sills with this too. Remember to salt the outside areas of your home after cleansing.

Cut a lemon and put slices surrounded in salt on a plate in every room, especially under beds (don't salt the lemons, just let them sit atop the salt!). If the lemons rot, the entity is still in the home. If the lemons dry without molding, your home is cleansed.

Take a nice long shower or ritual bath after you cleanse your home to avoid any residual energies sticking onto you. You can even smoke cleanse yourself if you feel it will help.

You can repeat this process as many times as necessary. Attrition warfare works if entities refuse to leave. They get weaker with every act of cleansing and banishing until they disappear completely. Of course, if you feel that this is not up to snuff for your particular situation, please find outside help!

#banishing entities #ghosts #spirits #magic #occult #ritual #banishing #protection magic #witch tips #witchblr #witchcraft #we had a shadow dude in our house #he was just curious tho #then my husband accidentally let a scary ass woman spirit follow him home after he looked behind him and she disappeared #ugh that was a long day #shadow people #supernatural

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felixcloud6288 · 3 months

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Episode of Spongebob Squarepants where Mr Krabs decides to stop selling Krabby Patties and instead starts selling patties where each one is completely unique and will only be sold once. He calls them NFPs (non-fungible patties).

At first, the NFPs are very simple condiment combinations. One NFP has only ketchup; one has mustard; one has both; etc. Then when Krabs runs out of unique basic condiment combinations, he starts using different types of cheese and buns. Then he has to start using bizarre ingredients. And eventually he starts adding items into the sandwiches that make them highly toxic and dangerous.

The people of Bikini Bottom start collecting these NFPs which drives up their value and lets Mr Krabs sell his new NFPs at exceedingly bloated prices.

The only people not in on the hype are Spongebob (He's just making the patties and doesn't really notice), Squidward (He thinks the whole thing is stupid), Plankton (Refuses to buy into it and is instead trying to push ChumCoins), and Patrick (He just wants to eat a Krabby Patty but people keep buying them all before he gets a chance).

Eventually, the value of the NFPs plummets as they all start to rot and decay. Everyone stops buying NFPs when they realize they bought worthless commodities that will go bad after several days.

At this point, Patrick finally manages to buy a Krabby Patty, a plain patty with extra mayonnaise, and he eats it. Everyone sees Patrick eating his Krabby Patty and start talking about what sorts of toppings they'd rather have.

Mr Krabs, having lost everything trying to make more NFPs to sell, starts selling Fungible Patties (FPs) that are like NFPs but they aren't strictly unique and you can get any FP you want even if someone else already has the same one.

The episode ends with everything back to business as normal except people are ordering FPs instead of Krabby Patties. The last scene is someone trying to buy an FP with ChumCoin.

#original post #spongebob squarepants

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punk-in-docs · 2 years

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‼️YOU (don’t) KNOW I’M NO GOOD‼️

Detective (Killer) Quinn x Reader

3.6k words - Sequel to Tainted Love -

Inspired by *that* photo shoot - this is for @ceriseheaven 💋

Summary: Danger is apparently closer than you realise. ‼️ TW dark themes within: graphic descriptions of death/murder, and some mild stalking ‼️ porn coming up hot in the next one folks (I forever wish I could be one of those writers who just hops right on into writing smut - you’ll have to hear me waffle a little bit first Kay?)

A Hooker is found dead off Sunset Boulevard. Throat slit.

Her lanky limbs, stuffed into a horrible stinking dumpster behind the Whisky a Go-Go.

A blue dime store high heel lays in the alley. There’s blood spattered on it

You were there like a flash. Still tripping into your heels and zipping up your skirt, pulling on panty hose. Doing up your pussy bow blouse as you waited at the bus stop. No food or coffee in your belly. You’d no time.

Just sheer gut adrenaline and deep throbbing hunger for this continuing nightmare. Your story is here and you’ll hunt it out.

The bucking up bootstrap talk you give to yourself every morning. Shaking off shallow sleep. Finding that well of your elbow grease and getting the bit tight between your teeth. Grabbing your lipstick and your voice recorder as you run out the door.

Forever hauling ass to and from the corner of Clinton and Larchmont at the Chronicle office. Whenever you’re needed; have pen and gumption, will travel.

Sleeping at your desk with a deadly knotted crick in your neck. Back and fucking forth, from your baby pink and slowly rotting Las Palmas apartment building.

You exist from ends to end of cigarettes and chucking back shots of bourbon at night after a steamy shower. You scrounged your way by on half snatched lunches on the go, mustard hotdogs or everything bagels, black coffee, two sugars, no creamer. Gin with ice and lemon on Friday nights, and little to no sleep at all.

News never sleeps. Why should you-

You’d scrape to the bottom of this hellscape crime if it killed you.

Oh Birdie, Birdie, Birdie.

Another girl mangled dead. Another bloodstain soaking into the very same stretch of tarmac that’s laid with the gold star walk of fame.

A house way up in the Hollywood hills with two male roommates. And now a Hooker dead a stones throw off the boulevard. It’s random. There’s no pattern there. No food-chain event to yet glimpse a rhythm in.

You’d managed to elbow your way past the male reporters. Balding fat Murray’s and Brad’s, who came flocking from the Times and the Glendale Press.

With their cheap brown suits and oily moustaches. Ketchup blobbed on their polyester shirts and sweat pit stains, and usual brand of misogynistic bullshit. The way they talk about the dead hooker is like she was vermin.

You struck gold. You found the girls. You shamelessly shove your nose, and your cheap Jet Rag heels, all up into the business of the deceased’s friends.

Gathered around the cordon with you, tear streaked. Wiping weepy mascara trails. Last nights make up still caked on and very high heels. Hickies around their necks and up fingertip marks cobwebbed up their thighs.

You don’t take shit from them. No male reporter thinks their input is valuable? You do. You carve out time for them in this callous fast paced city that sees them as unwanted features.

You learn her name. Skinny Tina. So called because of her love of smack. Junkie to it. Liked leopard print dresses and her blue denim jacket. Smoked lucky’s. Came from Nashville. Old fixture on this block. Older than the stars she trod over.

You learn how she kept her corner. Worked her patch solid, from Bob Hope, all the way up to Ella Fitzgerald. That was her turf.

They tell you about the John she got off with last night when they last saw her. You cling to that morsel like it’s your lifeline. Root out as much as you can.

Scribble furiously. White male. Mid forties. Red Thatcherite braces, whiff of Wall Street about him. Prick from a lawyers office or some shit like that.

You nod. You ask. You write. Pulling meat off the bones of this case

You’ve no idea you’re being watched.

From behind the shiny windscreen of a Porsche no less. He sips his shitty weak coffee. Slips his eyes all over you as you stand there with the hookers. Unswerving determination behind those glasses lenses of yours.

You give each of them your card. You tell them to get in touch if another girl goes missing. Or if anything happens. Catch anyone skulking around. Ring you. Day or night.

Like you care toots. You just want your name in the paper right? They stand there with one hip cocked. Eyeing you with spiky pessimism.

You’re punchy. You meet eyes and you don’t shrivel away. “I care.”

You scribble your personal number on the back in red biro and hand it over. Shove it at them with hard core stoicism. You take the time to stand here and give a shit about these women.

You stand behind the yellow tape and write endlessly on your pad, the girls drift away from you. Heels clicking sharp on tarmac. Back into the filthy streets. Back to brutality and drugs and trying to make a living.

The cops buzz around the scene like the very same flies that drift off the trash. Shooing people off from the alleyway. Overflowing garbage trampled all over the sticky greasy puddles in the concrete.

Poor girl. No place to die.

You feel your heart sink low, dragging deeper down like sediment as you consider how it must have been to have it all end like that, in a place like this.

This shining golden city of angels and hope and promise, and this is the worst part of its seedy underbelly. Rock clubs of legendary name and girls selling themselves outside of it. Dying out in the back alley, being left to rot like trash.

Worst of all, is that no one gives a shit. Another hooker dead.

That’s LA’s normal beat baby.

Out the corner of your eye you catch that car again. Flash of it. Hot rod red. Waxed shiny. You know he’d be here somewhere.

He strides into the crime scene past you. Time of no concern. Dunkin’ coffee cup in hand. Licking sugar glaze off his lips. Box of six glazed his other hand. Like this is some sort of brunch date, and not the scene of a homicide.

The big boots are still a fixture. Bell bottom black trousers like he’s on the set of Starsky & Hutch. Sitting on that trim slutty waist. Sways with his hips as he walks. A satin black button up with a too big collar, undone to his sternum. Wearing a gold medallion chain with a saint, but he sure as hell ain’t one.

His neck swims in sainted things but his hands have committed all manner of sins.

Peers at you across those ray bans. Brown eyes swimming up your legs. Licks his lips. Sweet sugar.

That prim little blouse he swears he can see your bra poking through. Dainty lace cups holding your tits. Skirt grazing good big sexy handfuls of your hips.

Fuck you look heavenly.

“Well well. If it ain’t my little Birdie.” He calls across to you as the tape is lifted for him by a stony faced cop. Macabre grin.

You look up from your pad. Meet those swallowing chocolate eyes. He’s leering over his shades at you.

“Quinn.” You swallow.

Try to ignore the way the blaze of morning sun slips like liquid amber down his skin. Slipping between his pecs and collarbones like he’s bathed in mandarin orange oil. Glimmering off that necklace. Ocean cold blue neon from buzzing sign shot through those dark curls from behind. Bleeding out the alley.

You don’t know what it is about him that you like. He looks so wildly slutty that it’s making your mouth water. He’s definitely anything but boring, and your mind absolutely runs to a filthy place with that insinuation

He’s got you trying to recall the last instance you carved out time for some sex in your life. It had been months. The clench in your gut made you aware.

“Are we making a habit of this?” He checks. Narrows eyes at you all playfully.

You, me, the yellow crime scene tape. Mangled bodies. Sirens shrieking. Yeah. Romantic as hell-

“Let’s hope not. Detective. Hardly the stuff of foreplay.” You counter. “Can I get a quote for tomorrows edition.”

“Wouldn’t that be neat of me.” He teases.

You bite back annoyance. He sees it in the scrunched set of your jaw.

He brings up another doughnut to his lips and takes a huge untamed bite. Smirking at you.

He swaggers away and up to the dumpster. Prances around the evidence. Not that the killer left much- blood spattered shoe. The cut throat. Same old same old. Blah blah blah.

You sigh as you make ready to leave. Blood out of a stone. You won’t get anything else here.

Only a small scrap of what you’d hoped for clutched in your pocket. That will get you shunted back to your usual place on page six.

You turn away and begin to head up the Boulevard. Maybe you’d find a place for some breakfast. Your feet are aching. Head sour for lack of caffeine.

“Miss.” Comes a bark from a gruff cop. Who steps under the tape and towards you.

“Chronicle. I was just leaving.” You flash him your staff badge and back away thinking you’re gonna get chewed out for being nosy. You’re a girl reporter, the axe blows tend to fall heavier on you from grumpy cops. Sexist fuckers.

“Quinn asked me to give you this.”

He hands you an empty cigarette packet. Lucky Strikes. The paper is worn thin. Perfumed like it’s been in a purse. Not a pocket.

Skinny Tina smoked Lucky’s.

You look at the cop. He just rolls one shoulder up in a shrug. Not his job to care. Plods away.

You open the well thumbed crimson cigarette packet and inside is a line of scrawled text. Slanted spidery scrawl. Pin nib stabbing into the paper.

This is the work of a serial killer.

Your world grows cold. Sudden and terrible like someone’s sucked out all the dry choke of that LA heat. You thumb the packet in your hands. When you peer up and spin back to the cordon-

Quinn locks his eyes on you. And smiles. Those eyes glow at you.

There’s your story, Birdie.

Rain is LA is vanishingly rare. But when it comes, it comes fucking furiously.

It’s spitting down your windows so hard it’s like it will do anything in its power to shatter the glass.

Palm fronds from the stumpy trees outside your windows skate and scrape the glass and cast long fingers of spindly shadows. A faded essence of tropical paradise about this shabby place. The pink walls, palm trees. The empty pit of a mouldy swimming pool out back, filled with graffiti, crumbling tiles and trash.

The air walking home was so thick and smooth you could sip it. Full up of rain clouds and chasing away the humidity.

You turn home and show your back to this water-logged night. Your shoulders and hair damp from running from the station.

You draw your thin drapes but the red light soaking into the room through the shitty pink things. The light stains them up like they’ve been left bloodied.

Your bedside lamp glows in the corner. Peachy pink from the rosy shade. Your room is entirely bathed in lapping tongue red and rose pink.

You cranked your pathetic shower up high and stood under the warm spray until it drained to cold. Your scrubbed your hair from dripping to damp, and slipped on an old white t shirt that slipped off one shoulder. Black lace panties.

Hair still wet as you padded through to your bedroom. Empty glass of bourbon on the nightstand. Half full bottle. You’ll be dipping well into it tonight.

Today was long. Endlessly so. Dragging you down like you’ve got concrete blocks tied on your heels. Cutting into skin as it drags you down.

There’d been another one. Found tonight way out past skid row, under the 6th street bridge.

Stabbed in the back and left to bleed. A kid. A stupid punk teenager, with his apple green spiky hair, belt chains and ripped spray painted anarchist shirt. Bruises on his knuckles showed he put up a fight.

A bag of weed and ketamine in his pocket. Track marks up his arms. All tangled and fired up in fiery self-rebellion. And it led him to dying under a bridge like some junkie.

There was such a clamour at the crime scene cordon that you got physically shoved aside, and ended up skinning your knees in the process. Tearing your pantie hose. Walking home with blood peeling down your calves. Stuck with muck and grit.

You felt miserable. You were miserable. Another day designed to sink you. All teeth and stomping jaws clamping on your pride and happiness.

You hounded as much as you could squeeze out the cops on scene with bleeding knees burning. Hands scraped from your fall. Not much at all.

Your mood was as far in the gutter as it could get. The shower helped. You swiped stinging betadine across your broken skin and chucked back Bourbon to ignore the grating pain.

You drunkenly shuffle to your small strip of a kitchen. Aqua blue and white tiled lino. Cheap but clean. Your whole place was really. Pink drapes and thick blue carpets bleached and matted with age.

Bathed briefly in the blue light and puff of cold from the fridge. You reach and chuck more ice in your used glass and fill it up with even more brown liquor. Mind swirling away and you let it. Close your clunking fridge door with a sloppy hand.

The booze helped. You were ignoring the irony that after a hard day you were crawling into the bottom of an Old Taylor bottle.

You were supposed to be a man about all this. Man up. Well. You’re a woman and you have to do this job twice as hard and relentless and with double the scrutiny from men. And in heels. So you decided long ago;

Fuck that.

You laid on your bed and thought about having dinner. A sad tin of soup or some box of ramen you’d forgotten about in your cupboard.

But instead you just lay there on your sheets and let the bourbon take you away.

And then your phone rings. Shrills to attention on your bedside.

You twist your head back to look at it. Past your cheap peach satin sheets. Your crappy cracked pink telephone won’t shut the hell up.

You launch over the bed and sit up to answer it. If it’s another call out to a murder site, you swear you’ll quit. “Yes?”

There’s a second or two of huffing crackling static the other end. And then,

“Nasty night isn’t it?”

That voice makes your whirling head sit up and pay attention. Oh that voice. He hears the way skin grazes on your covers. The pull of your lungs seeking breath. That makes him outwardly think of your tits too and he can’t help his mind wandering off into filthy plains.

“Quinn?” You check. Your mind is curling and blurry. But by now you’d know his tone when you hear it.

He bites his lip cause it gets him hard. Rubs his fingertips into the square box of the telephone he’s curled against. Sweat on his fingers chafes against the black plastic.

“Hey Birdie.”

“How did you get this number?” Your drunk mouth blurts out. Your tongue feels all fat and clumsy with drink. Loose- even.

He chuckles. It’s breathy and it’s beautiful. Slips like melted chocolate into your ear through the receiver. It may be a smooth sound but it does something sharp and twisting to your gut. A tug.

“I have my ways.” You can hear his stupid big grin.

“Cop ways I’m guessing?” You counter. He detects a tone levelled at him. Flash a badge and he can own this town. Walk in anywhere.

You reach over and bring the phone onto the bed. The cord of it trailing behind as you wrap the coiled wire around your finger. You sit up and cradle the phone between your ear and shoulder.

Eyes flicking over for a second to that well thumbed Lucky Strike’s packet. The one he wrote in and gave to you.

“I don’t need to go flashing my badge as much as you’d think. I can be very persuasive.” He charms. Like he could pluck down all the hanging stars and set them at your feet.

You don’t doubt that. Silver tongues and doe brown eyes seldom mix.

“You weren’t at the scene today. Worried me a little.” He adds.

“I worried you? You hardly know me.” You state.

“I personally-“ There’s a clink as he presses his hand flat to his collarbone. Clink of a chain. “Think we should change that.”

You sigh in confusion because you just can’t think of what else to do. Is he asking you out? Is he hitting on you? Is that what’s happening here?

“I was at the 6th street bridge today. Up until I got knocked down by the clamouring TV and camera crews and skinned my knees. And then it started to rain, I was getting nowhere so I called it a day.” You offered up.

The blazes up something in him. Sparks churning friction against the liquid gunpowder of his temper. All it takes is a spark. He has to take a deep breath at the thought of you bleeding.

“You alright?”

No not really.

I saw a kid brutally mangled and stabbed today. Skin ripped where someone tore him open with a knife.

I’m fucking lonely in this city and I have no friends for miles.

My job is the fucking pits of Tartarus some days.

“Ask me after my hangover tomorrow. When I don’t feel like a failure. And I didn’t see a dead kid torn to strips. And I’m- sober.” You curse under your breath.

Bulldog tone of yours all snappy and treading the borders of your patience. Bone weary.

“That sounds like a lot on your plate.” He offers. He sounds tender. The tenderest thing you’ve heard in a while.

“It sure as shit is. But I’m not sure I should be venting to a cop about it.” You admit gruffly. Standing up and holding the phone to your ear. Idly gazing at the rain outside. Coming down in sheets, hammering cold at your window ledges.

You pour yourself out more bourbon. Cause fuck it.

Oh, you play spiky and icy and he likes it. He’ll play you into his hands. You’ll be worth the wait.

“What if I’m one of the good ones.” He grins. Licks his lips. Outright lies.

“Don’t play games with me, Quinn.” You warn.

Funny; that was his line. Usually with a knife in his hand edged against a fragile throat.

“What if I can help you out with some private information on these cases.” He leans right in and purrs into the phone. It makes you feel squirmy. Like you’re under his gaze again. That flirty one that gets peered over his ray bans.

“And why on earth would you be doing that for me?” You keep your head screwed on straight. What little sense there is left that Bourbon didn’t steal.

“Mutually beneficial arrangement.” He drawls.

“Listen Detective, if you think you’re gonna get your dick wet just cause you toss me some scraps, you’ve got another thing coming, and it’ll be my heel stabbed in your eye.” You promise with punch.

He chuckles. He can’t deny the threat of that and the thought of fucking you had him harder than he’d care to admit. The glimpse of you he had in his head on your back and taking it. Indecent. Glorious.

“I’m no idiot, Birdie.”

His dark eyes graze through the glazed rain walls of the phone booth. Glass striped with wriggling rain and haloed car lights burst through in reds and searing white. The Porsche sits waiting behind him. Dotted in silver.

He can see you through your window.

He’s across the parking lot in the phone booth. One arm braced against the metal wall. Eyes pinned on the slice of that tongue pink room and the vague shape of you he can see through the thin drapes.

White shirt. No bra. Lace panties. Sat on your bed in that entirely pink-red washed room. Light kissing and wrapping your skin. And you’ve no clue he can see you.

You’ve no idea how bad he truly is for you. It’s delicious that.

“Why did you give me that cigarette packet, Quinn?”

He’s quick to answer. He’s thought about this answer. “Leverage.”

“Leverage?” You repeat like you can’t comprehend the word.

“Over those assholes at your paper who think that you don’t deserve your spot alongside them. Scraping together your sanity for every shot at the front page.” He says.

He cut to the quick. Like he’s torn your skin away to see in. Your dimly lit life with your bottles of booze and your struggles. Somehow he pieced you together so well it was like he had your blueprints.

“You don’t know me.” You gasp out. It’s incredulous. He’s making your head spin.

“I know a lot more than you’d think. It’s my job, after all. I like to think I’m good at it.”

“That sounds like a lot of ego talking.”

“In that case you should let me take you out for lunch tomorrow and see for yourself. Buy you something to soothe that little Bourbon hangover.”

Your spine flashes clammy.

“How the hell do you know what I’m drinking?”

Your head is thumping. Dread curling horrid up in your stomach like dead burnt leaves come fall. Crunching and crushing.

“Like I told you. Birdie. I’m just that good.” He chuckles.

Oh but he isn’t.

There’s a click and he promptly hangs up.

You’re left there watching the rain skate furiously down your windows. Listening to the dead tone on the other end blare. Thunder grazes the valley.

It feels more sinister than it should.

My Taglist for my JQ babes: (if I’ve missed anyone out I’m so sorry !) if anyone would like to be added drop me a comment on here babes !

@indouloureux @stiegasaw @munsonquinns @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @ceriseheaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @starbxcks @morganamoonstone @ramona-thorns @gvtosbith @poppy-metal @munsonswhore86 @munsonlov3r @lunatictardis @shenevertricks1831 @hazzaismyreligion @harrys-tittie @anaisweird @cerinthussulpicia @cinnamoncunt

#joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn stranger things #i would die for this man #Eddie munson #joseph quinn gif #joseph quinn character #joseph quinn characters #punkwrites #serial killer #killer #murderer #stalking #crime scene #1980’s LA #pretty woman vibes #pretty woman

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