AH

I'm so normal about him I swear

thinkin' about 1950s!mafia!price and the pretty little lounge singer who performs at his club. waits for you in your dressing room after your set with a bottle of disgustingly expensive champagne. reaches down to pull a knife from his sock to pop it open with...

calls you dearie, sugarpie, dollface...

kisses your pouty lips and mumbling an apology when he gets pulled away from your dates to deal with ahem... business...

dresses you up in the finest silks, furs, and jewels so he can parade you around on his arm, showing everyone what belongs to him...

has a wicked temper that only you can calm him down from. cupping his cheeks and saying his name in that soft, sing-song voice that never fails to melt his heart

I find it so fucking funny how I've managed to amass a friend group of nearly all neurodivergents. Like-

There are about 3 people in it that have no chance of getting into the grippy sock vacation.

And the other 17?

Well.

There were about 10 of us going to Home Depot cause we're helping one of our group to get stuff for their new deck and just. We're in the outdoor garden part and one of my friends just slaps my arm and points at 2 crows and the only word that leaves their mouth is

"Crow"

I turned and saw the crows and just even louder stated "CROW" and everyone in our group just turned and stared bug eyed at the crows in pure silence for a solid 5 seconds before another friend piped up and said

"Those are some nice birbs."

And we all nodded and mumbled our collective agreement.

YASSSSSSSS

I know what they'd all be, but y'all can decide which man to punish. Happy Halloween.

I fucking love that

The false safety of a loved one being near you, running their hand through your and over the curve of your head, how their hand could drift lower just so their fingers run over your forehead. Oh, the underlying tones that are so dark compared to the loving embrace of safety. The lie of it all.

I am stimming because of this, you write this type of unsettling horror so damn well.

did you get the fae tapping from that one magician guy from season 9 supernatural? when he taps dean in his zoo to make him like compliant i mean

Nope! I get it from my brain. I saw it in the dream fae!Ghost first appeared in.

It's the quickest way for magic to get into the brain. And for me it feels like an unnatural gesture for people to make. How often does someone touch your forehead? It's an unexpected gesture(the element of surprise can be an important part of hypnotism) and because of that it's one that people can't guard against. Or don't think to guard against until it's too late. It's also a touch that could be sweet! Your partner brushing your hair off your forehead suddenly is much more sinister when it's a ruse to tap you.

So that's where tapping came from

Educate yourselves if you aren't already. Please.

"11,078 and counting have died in Palestine. Never stop talking.

Also this is just the surface, do further research to fully understand the situation.

Also this is just the surface, do further research to fully understand the situation."

Art credit: @flyingkikii

Reposted from @frxchix

That last sentence is fucking delicious. Absolutely scrumptious. On my way to grab the adoption papers.

To be honest, I would want to be Price and Witch’s kid instead of fuck them idk why. I have mommy and daddy issues I guess lol.

Yeah I can do that, Witch adopts a lot of people and Price... also adopts strays.

"Do you want some tea darling?" The Witch asks, crouching to be on your level, "or maybe some hot chocolate? Could perk you right up."

You think for a moment before nodding your head. You're not supposed to talk to strangers, but you've seen this witch in the neighborhood and there's something comforting about her. Her concern seems genuine as she fusses with the copper pots in her kitchen. And you really can't complain about the rich dark liquid she pours neatly into a mug for you. It certainly looks, and smells, like a melted chocolate bar. Far flung from the powdered stuff you expected.

She frowns at you for a moment, plucking at the space around you with purposeful fingers. You sip your drink, and try not to watch her too closely. She may feel warm, but her movements are alien to you, and strike at your stomach with a strange primal fear. You think it's fear, you don't quite have the word for this feeling. You're sure it will come to you.

The chocolate coats your tongue, thick and viscous, you think you can taste cinnamon under the cocoa. The Witch taps her finger against her cheek, watching you, she seems ill at ease. Obviously concerned over the strange child that's made themselves comfortable in her home. She seems to come to some conclusion, holding her hand over her mouth as she whispers something. It's inaudible and yet it fills the room, dissonant whispers echoing off the walls and collecting in a swirl of smoke.

A man steps out with a roll of his shoulders, and almost as quickly as he lays eyes on you, he's looking back at the witch.

"Where'd you get the changeling?" He asks with a raise of his brow. The Witch lets out a breath.

"Oh good, knew they felt fae," She goes to the kitchen while the man takes a seat next to you, "they just showed up, I assume they're one of the neighbor's kids."

"Is that right?" The man smiles at you, it makes his eyes crinkle at the edges, you smile back with all your teeth. He seems to like that, poking his fingers against your sides to make you giggle. "Where's your mum, hm? Can't have wandered too far off."

You shrug and the fae man nods. You like when adults don't make you talk, sometimes talking is too much. The witch taps her fingers together, thinking, while the man lets smoke swirl off his fingers. It makes little shapes and animals in the air, elephants and lions dancing around your head, butterflies flying over to distract the witch. You hold your hand out for one, and watch a lion burst into a flock of penguins to waddle across your palm.

"I can run a trace, I suppose," The Witch sighs walking closer, she crouches to be at eye level with you, "Can I have a pinch of your hair darling? I promise it won't hurt a bit."

You don't know if you want to give a witch your hair. It seems dangerous, that's how witches take control of people. You look at the man for help, surely he knows how witches work and won't let this one puppet you around. He chuckles, leaning his elbow against the table to rest his head against his fist. He nods at you.

"Go on then, I'll make sure she doesn't do anything nasty." He assures you. You look back at the Witch, who's glaring at your new friend.

"Don't make me sound so wicked," She scolds him.

"Don't need my help for that sweetheart," There's something warm in his voice, something that makes the whole house light up with warmth as the Witch bites down a smile.

She's very careful with you, pressing her fingers against your scalp as she twists hair around her fingers, plucking a few stray strands before pulling away again. She's right, it doesn't hurt. You rub your head, and she turns it back towards your mug of liquid chocolate. You think that's payment enough.

You don't watch what she does with your hair, but you feel the shiver of it. It's like a little zap of electricity, a stray shock from rubbing your socks against carpet. You wrinkle your nose at the feeling, it's not unbearable, but it's unpleasant. You consider peaking at what the Witch is doing, but you catch sight of your new fae friend first, and watching him watch her is much more interesting.

His eyes spark, and you mean that literally. There's a fire behind them that traces its way around his iris each time he blinks. A spark of gold against ice blue. A shooting star in a snowstorm. His eyes smile, and even though his fingers stop you from seeing his lips you assume they're smiling at well. You glance at the witch and see her hold up a vial of black powder to the light, her eyes studying it as she tips it one way then the other. It's not anything interesting, you don't see what's worth staring at.

"Can you make a bear?" You ask the man, he hums questioningly before looking at you. "They're my favorite," You explain.

"Can I make a bear?" He scoffs, swirling his fingers to collect the smoke. The wisps of it draw together and burst with a spark into the silhouette of a brown bear. It plods along the table top before sitting down to look around. It's a good bear.

"I know a good story about a bear," You tell him. He raises a brow, and doesn't stop you as you chatter away telling your favorite fairy tale. In fact his smoke seems to act out the scenes for you, stopping and restarting as you try to remember details. By the time you finish there's no more sound coming from the witch's work, and you're starting to notice the "lovely princess" and "handsome prince" smoke figures look a lot like your hosts.

"I called their mum," The witch tells the man, setting a cup of tea in front of him. "She should be here soon." The fae man snaps his fingers and the smoke disperses.

"One of the neighbors?" He asks, and she hums in confirmation. He tugs at her hand, pulls her down to perch on his lap with a quiet word.

"Are you alright to go home dear?" She asks you, and you think she means it. Sometimes people ask you things but they don't really want an answer, they just want to ask. You nod after a moment's thought. She looks relieved. "If you ever get lost again, you can call me,-" she hands you a little black card with gold lettering, it looks very official, "-I'll get you back home."

You turn the card over. There's no name on it just a phone number, an address, and one word, "Witch." You're studying one of the gold stars on the corner of it when there's a knock at the door. The Witch stands to answer it, and the fae man's touch lingers on her hip before she moves away. He gives you a wink as she pulls the door open, as if his affections are a conspiracy between the two of you. You hop off your chair and he catches your arm.

"Price," He tells you quietly, it feels like an important word so you nod solemnly. He smiles, "Go on back to your mum, and don't go spreading my name around."

You hold onto your mother's hand as you wave good-bye. She thanks the Witch profusely, though she waves all of them off. You watch the gold slip off of her like water, humans are so funny like that. They never hold onto heavy ties, kind only for the sake of kindness.

"Do you know how worried I was?" Your mother scolds you, "You're lucky someone dangerous didn't find you."

no- pressure tags but-

*cough*

@ghouljams @maelstrom007

you seeing what I'm seeing lol

(thought you both might appreciate this a little)

STOP okay let me help you all visualise mechanic!ghost too !!!!!

What’s your favorite drink Moth

Strawberry Milk. Hands down. I will die on this hill.

@hunterbunter3000

GUESS WHATTTTTT

Here's my heart and soul while I'm at it. This feral ball of sunshine has me in a chokehold and honestly, I couldn't be happier.

Worth it

I knew it

I fucking knew it

Price is done already I knew he'd win so expect something later tonight!

If I had brain worms over a specific TF 141 au in mah lil wrinkly brain, who would y'all like me to draw first? I think it's an original au, I haven't seen anything of it before

Please anyone who sees this reblog it cause I'm rlly rlly curious how this'll turn out, thanks!