#I don’t like the garbage bag siblings but this is fucked up
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These Black Clover chapters have been amazing. Watched; Asta train, the lovely people of Sun, the retainers, Asta having to face the love of his life, *SCREAMS*, Yami’s sister possibly re traumatised (or even more🙃), shogun’s fine ass. And now…
LET MY PEOPLE GO JULIUS!!!
#Julius ain’t shit#sister lily#acier#I don’t like the garbage bag siblings but this is fucked up#they gotta face their mom??#THEIR MOM?!#Slicey dicey got a hole through him#Moren too gets a comeback to Earth#haven’t Yami been through enough?#not a fan of Charlotte but still happy for her and Yami possibly going out after this#hope sole’s weirdo ass don’t follow this time#No seriously…she needs to STOP#like the great Nene Leakes said#it’s getting weird#back to my original plot#I’m getting scared man#Julius you raggedy bitch#black clover#black clover magna#black clover spoilers#black clover acier#acier silva#good seeing yuno loves his chapters a lot#black clover nozel#nozel silva#yami sukehiro#mereoleona vermillion#fuegoleon vermillion#black clover 354#if you made it this far like share and subscribe
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First ten lines writing meme
Tagged by @starrybouquet - thank you! This one appealed to me - not too much work!
Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.
1. somewhere on the steepest slope (there’s an endless rope):
Cold.
That's the first thing he notices.
He's never been so cold. It's beyond pain and into something purer—it's all-encompassing, and he embraces it, because…this is it, right? An end to it all. And it's a relief. He feels like he's been fighting forever, and he doesn't even remember who he's fighting or why, he just wants to rest…
2. Tell all the Truth but tell it slant:
It's so obvious, he doesn't know why it never occurred to him that Lila would have enemies.
3. Not Romeo, Not Juliet:
Working as a janitor didn't pay well, and vigilantism didn't pay shit, so Diego had a third job as a bouncer-slash-bartender a couple of nights a week, at a club that opened just as Al's gym was closing. It wasn't much, but it kept him in knives and iodine. Anyway, sleep was for losers.
4. Mansion, Apartment, Shack, or House:
When he's thirteen, for reasons that he doesn't fully understand, Diego and his siblings are packed off for a year at the School for Overprivileged Assholes.
Oh, it has a different name, officially. But that's how he always thinks of it, from the moment they arrive and he sees the neat little uniforms, the polished staircases, the list of rules…
It's just like home.
5. like it was written in my soul, from me to you:
It goes something like this:
"I'm going to ask Lila to marry me. Any bright ideas?"
There is an immediate chorus of groans from about 50 percent of his siblings. Five doesn't even look up from his newspaper.
"Don't."
6. Stray Cat Strut:
Anita was at the age where she embraced new experiences with all the fervor of someone who had never met anything like it in her entire life—all two years of it. Diego loved it. Choc'lit!!! was a perennial favorite. Truck!!! had been the Biggest Deal last month, applied to everything from the garbage truck to the pizza delivery bike. But this month…
"Titty!"
Diego grinned at the woman, more proud than embarrassed. "She's struggling with her 'k's. She likes the cat on your bag," he explained.
7. I may be bad (but I’m perfectly good at it):
"And then you lock the cuffs around your ankles, and voilà. You can attach a dildo with a suction cup to the bench and ride that, and have someone's cock in your mouth, and still have room to give a handjob. Great for parties!"
It’s been a long six months.
8. one wave short of a shipwreck:
The bank isn't where it starts, not really. It started a long time ago, maybe even further back than he remembers—but the bank is where it feels like it starts.
9: and they were roommates:
There are many ways to tell someone that you're pregnant. Cakes are, according to the internet, fairly popular, as are piñatas, although she thinks the latter is a little disturbing. You can take out an advert, call a radio station, have the test framed (ew), take them to an important local monument that your friends have draped with banners…
Lila being Lila, though, she chooses to do it this way:
"Diego, I'm pregnant."
Diego—who is, appropriately, scrambling her eggs right now—freezes for a long second. Then he unfreezes and shoots her an unimpressed look. "Har har," he says. "You know that to give someone a pregnancy scare you need to have actually slept with them, right?"
10: The Midnight Laundrette:
"What the actual fuck?"
The moment she'd said it, Lila regretted it.
Lol, I swear no. 7 is not what you think!
No-pressure tagging @lochrannn, @himbohargreeves, @bending-sickle, @nicehatgeorgia, @annerbhp...and anyone else who wants to play!
#long post#writing#tua fanfic#fic by pepper#I'm pleased with the variety there I've gotta say#and by the punchiness of most of them#I like writing a good attention-grabbing opening
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I have a suspicion that Leslie and Andy and a lot of people are going to be doing a lot less fudging because Leslie has already been caught fucking her father because of Nikki Arnett because Nikki thought that it would be funny to try to tease Leslie
And then poor James is a midget and then we say you had to go provoke him. Oh really
So now he might kill some innocent child because somebody made a short incest joke about him
Andy I already know what you think of me, honey, but the thing is you’re not anything special
Why don’t you go have fudge sex with your sister now?
I’m sure that you’re not special though are you Andy even if that is your daddy you’re not special isn’t that so honey muffin? Did daddy catch you fucking your sister he didn’t care though because he’s like Josh in the head.
You and your sister are not to pass that line ever because you’re nasty and you’re sick in the head
But it’s all right because I’ve got your fudge hutch, baby you and your sister you’re nastier than Nick and Brandy. It seems like they’re all these sibling sex habits around here in Kentucky where I live.
Havers*
I keep forgetting they say that methamphetamine messes your brain up so that you don’t want to sleep with your partner anymore. You want to have some kind of risky idea of sex at which point because your brain is all jacked up from methamphetamine and that might be Jack’s struggle as well as Andy.
Plural
Why don’t you kill yourself, baby Andy why don’t you kill your fucking self you worthless fucking bag of stupid special needs garbage
I have this liking for cleanliness and I don’t have a liking for Andy or Jack to be in my energy field at 5 AM
I am aware of the fact that the incest problem is probably severe and by choice
Tammy and Josh and all of you are very sick and you have all of these incest games that you play with your siblings
You need a lot of help, but you’re not going to Hollywood baby girl so you can go have sex with with your cousin brother but you’re not going to Hollywood. I said bitch ever you fucking dumb slut ever have sex with your fucking brother.
And Andy honey, you and your sister are done baby so you keep that knife real sharp baby
I am not fighting every incest sibling duo of Kentucky. I am not.
Pearson, we’re not related child Stephanie and Beth you guys need to kill yourselves immediately please
I want that entire family of garbage taken out to be honest with you
This is the nastiest shit, and I can’t believe that all of those people are addicted to meth
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First of all, love your writing!! I appreciate so much that you keep taking prompts and giving us Pacino girls so many amazing things to read! Now in the hopes of joining your list of prompts, if it inspires your muse, could you write a brotherly fic about Bobby and Hank? maybe Hank sticking up for Bobby? or just anything about their sibling relationship, thank you!!
Thank you so much, lovely!! 🥰💖 I appreciate that from the bottom of my heart! I also think this is the very first time I’ve received a prompt for Bobby/The Panic in Needle Park?! Aaaaaaah he really doesn’t get enough love, poor baby! 😭 This prompt is really heavily reminding me of the current chapter I’m writing for my Bobby fic, Eyes Like Stars because it goes so much more into depth with Bobby and Hank’s sibling relationship! Anything for the Pacino girlies!! 😍✨
“What? You think this is some kind of ‘he’s not heavy, he’s my brother’ crap? Well, let me tell you somethin’ man, you are heavy.” It didn’t matter how many times Hank grew frustrated with his younger brother Bobby or vice versa—his words out of anger would never hold nor did they remain true or effect Bobby.
The brotherly bond Hank and Bobby had was unbreakable—the only strength in the last bits of broken family they had was with each other.
Bobby and Hank both grew up with emotionally unavailable parents who were too preoccupied with petty arguments over money and verbally abusing one another to even bother to kiss and teach their sons what’s right and wrong.
The sights of seeing their parents tear each other apart, having no sense of a loving family, finding solace on the streets with other kids coming from broken families made Hank and Bobby who they were and although Hank wasn’t the kind of person to baby or chaperone anyone, it would mean crossing him in hell before he’d let someone hurt or cheat his brother.
As a teenager when Bobby picked fights with the neighborhood kids because they didn’t pay Bobby what they owed—buying stolen, cheap cigarettes off of him—Hank would join in to pummel alongside his brother like a team.
“Man, calm the fuck down.” One of Bobby’s old dropout classmates who owed Bobby twenty dollars for all the weed he took had said—completely unphased by Bobby’s anger. “I said I’ll pay you when I pay you—I ain’t got the money on me right now. You’re gonna be up my ass about it all the time?”
“That’s what you said last time, asshole.” Bobby rolled his eyes, extending out his hand. “I know you got some shit on you so empty your fuckin’ pockets and give me what you got. I shouldn’t even let your ass walk around here in peace knowing you owe me so much.”
“I ain’t giving you shit, how about that?” Bobby’s classmate spoke back in a mocking tone, taking one step forward. “I said I. Don’t. Have. Anything.”
“Better back the fuck up before I beat something out of you.” Hank spoke up, tossing his half smoked cigarette onto the pavement before approaching his brother and the classmate. “You fucking heard him. Are you cheating my brother?”
“No man, what the fuck?” The classmate scoffed, backing up immediately. “I’m broke! I don’t have--”
“ARE YOU CHEATING MY FUCKIN’ BROTHER, MAN?!” Hank hollered, grabbing the classmate by his neck.
Bobby smirked and crossed his arms, watching the punk crumble like a cheap aluminum can under Hank’s rough grip. “Twenty dollars is twenty dollars.”
With one swift movement, Hank used all his might to throw Bobby’s classmate back against a pile of garbage bags he was standing next to—causing some to burst open from the impact of him hitting them.
“Empty your fuckin’ pockets.” Hank scowled, pointing a finger at the guy. “You owe Bobby.”
Hank was kicked out of the house once Bobby and his parents begun to realize Hank was selling weed around the neighborhood, but Bobby left willingly—sick and tired of the roof above his head he could no longer call a “home”.
When Bobby was out on the streets for good, meeting new people, sustaining himself off petty theft, selling cigarettes, weed and cheap booze, Bobby found his way back to his brother again who was just as part of the streets as he was and nothing had changed.
“Finally left, huh?” Hank looked up and down at his brother’s baggy clothing ridden with holes—seeing him for the first time in two years. “Didn’t think you’d last that long.”
“Cut me some slack, man.” Bobby rolled his eyes and gestured to the cigarette pack peeking out of the pocket of Hank’s leather jacket. “Give me a cig, will you?”
Hank chuckled, taking a cigarette out of his pack but not before patting his brother’s shoulders and pulling Bobby into a side hug as they made their way down the streets of Upper West Side Manhattan.
That brotherly bond meant Bobby and Hank would never snitch on each other no matter the cost, they’d always have one another as support no matter what grimy street they were in New York just as much as it meant that the two brothers would have to make a living through crime for the rest of their lives.
Some people changed, but Bobby and Hank never did.
#the panic in needle park#the panic in needle park prompts#bobby axel#al pacino#the panic in needle park fanfic#bobby axel fanfic
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Sae My Name - Chapter 2: Madam Vanderwood
Fandom: Mystic Messenger
Rating: Mature
Chapter 2 Wordcount: 2563
Pairings: MC (Jin) / Vanderwood, other background ships.
Notes: This fic is focused around a trans MC, which plays a big role in her story. She is the focus character, though the rest of the RFA and side characters do play a part.
Specific Chapter Notes: I really wish I could draw, I would love to show you actual images for the selfies Seven sent. Related, if you want to see how this chat is -supposed- to look, with its inline images etc, check out Ao3.
You can also read this on Ao3, updating every Monday.
Previous / Next
“So, Seven.” Jin said, staring at her twin who had collapsed upside-down over the back of the sofa to talk to her. “You said… we have a mom? And a brother?”
Seven almost visibly wilted.
“Mother died. I’m still not sure what happened, but I think our father got to her.”
���Oh. That’s… I… I’m sorry, Seven.”
“She wasn’t great.” Seven said. “It still hurts, but… she was really horrible to us. She kept Saeran chained up most of the time, and made me run her errands, and when she wasn’t drunk she was abusive. You were probably better off with father.”
“Oh hell no. I was only ever allowed to leave the house for photo shoots to make our father look like a good family man, and even still I wasn’t allowed to talk. If I did, I got beaten until I…” she paused and bit her lip. “Anyway, I was kept in my room unless I was being taught by the private tutors he hired who I’m sure had an NDA.”
“But our father was never photographed with a daughter.”
Jin sighed.
“That’s because he doesn’t know I’m a woman.”
“What? How?” Seven fell over and righted himself so he was sitting up. “How does that work?”
“Um. Well.” How much do I trust him? Can I share this? “I…” Jin sighed and unconsciously started chewing on a fingernail.
Seven held up his hand. “Only share what you want to. I promise I won’t tell a soul.”
Fuck it. If he was going to rat me out he’d have done it.
“I’m actually your brother, I guess.”
“You’re crossdressing?” Seven said, and Jin did not know how to read the way his eyes lit up.
“Um. No, not really? Yes, technically? Where do I start…?”
“How about the beginning?” Seven said, and Jin sighed.
“Fiiiine. Got any snacks?”
Seven got up and came back with two bags of Honey Buddha Chips and some cans of PhD Pepper. Jin grinned.
“Okay, okay, we might actually be siblings. You have acceptable taste in snacks.”
“God Seven provides.” Seven said, and Jin laughed.
“So, yeah. Um. I’m biologically a boy.”
“Fooled me.” Seven said, and gestured for her to continue.
“Fooled father and his goons too.” Jin said, sipping her soda. “At first, it was just a way to get out, but the longer I dressed and acted like a girl, the happier I was. Eventually I just realized I didn’t really fit as a boy, so… here I am.”
“Well, I have a whole bunch of cute girl outfits that you can borrow…” Seven said, and Jin laughed.
“What? Why?”
“Cosplay! Honestly, crossplay is a lot of fun and if I didn’t already know I’d look cute as a girl… I’d know now! You’re so cute!”
Jin laughed and stuck her tongue out at Seven.
“Anyway Jin!” Seven said, smiling. “You want me to use she/her pronouns and not tell anyone, right?”
“Ideally, yeah.”
“Done and done. All I ask is that you don’t go blabbing about our whole garbage family shit.”
“Easy deal. But… what about our brother?”
Seven’s expression immediately clouded.
“He’s probably fine.” Seven said. “In trying to hide from our father, he got taken somewhere I can’t reach him and I work for a shitty secret agency. Hacker 707 at your service, m’lady.” He tipped a nonexistent hat at her, and Jin shook her head.
“What do you mean somewhere you can’t reach him?”
“In exchange for him being safe, I don’t get to see him and I work for the agency.”
“Okay, that’s you. What about me? And how do you know he’s safe?”
“I have a whole disc full of pictures they gave me of him being happy, and I just… I just hope. And you? I don’t know. Maybe V would tell you where he is, let you two meet up, then you could tell me he’s okay. That he’s happy.”
“Seven… I… I don’t feel good about this. Why would separating you two even help? Father is an entire time. I don’t understand why you’re not safer together. If he got one of you, wouldn’t the other drop everything to help? I just found out you even existed and I sure as fuck would.”
Seven went quiet. “I’ve been thinking the same myself for awhile, actually, but V keeps telling me not to, and… I don’t know how I’d find Saeran now, even if I tried.”
“Who is V to you? He wasn’t surprised about, well, me.”
“Like a dad, really. He and Rika got us out of that house. I owe them everything.”
“Rika?”
“The old party coordinator and V’s fiancée. She died about a year ago. Suicide.”
“Oof, that’s rough. I’m sorry. God, losing two moms. I’m sorry Seven. Do you want a hug?”
Seven looked at her and set aside his soda.
“More than anything.”
Seven ordered (probably way too much) pizza and went off to play video games in his office, leaving Jin with free reign over his media collection, causing her to choose a novel and bury herself in it. She hadn’t really had a moment where she didn’t have to look over her shoulder in a long time, and quickly became absorbed in the fantasy world.
“Zero Seven, why did I have to go pick up pizza if you’re not even playing your stupid game on your night off?” a voice said almost directly above Jin’s head, and she flinched, eyes looking up to meet those of the irritated man looking down at her. When did he get here? How did I miss the door opening? Does he even blink?
“Uh. Sorry, I…” Jin started, realizing she should probably say something to the enigmatic brunette staring down at her. Seven’s loud voice rang across the open living space, interrupting her lack of ability to form a sentence.
“Madam Vanderwood! Thanks for getting pizza!”
The brunette, Vanderwood apparently, looked up at Seven, back down at Jin, back at Seven, and then spun on his heel and went into the kitchen.
“Nope.”
Seven bounced past her and ruffled her hair.
“I never thought I’d manage to pull one over on Vanderwood. C’mon, dinner’s ready, and you need to eat.” Seven said, and Jin checked what page she was on and shut the book.
The first thing Jin noticed when she walked into the kitchen was how tense the non-ginger in the room was. The second thing she noticed was the pile of abandoned takeout chopsticks on one of the counters. Snagging a set of chopsticks, Jin snapped them apart and used them to secure her unruly hair up in a makeshift bun. Much better. She thought, before turning her attention to Seven and… Vanderwood.
“So, Madam Vanderwood.” She said, before he could ask whatever was on his mind, “Are you Seven’s henchman, or like, leash maybe?”
She saw his hackles rise at being called a henchman, but he outright laughed when she suggested that he was Seven’s leash. Seven was less amused.
“Hey! I don’t need a leash! I’m a well trained pupper!”
“Uh huh. I’m sure.” Jin said, snagging a piece of pepperoni-pineapple pizza. There were already multiple slices missing from it, and she eyed her dinner companions carefully. No one liked pineapple on pizza. It was the one way she ever got enough food on a pizza night… making sure there was a pizza only she would eat. But… of course her brother also liked pineapple on pizza. Made sense, she supposed. Would their other sibling also like this abomination of a pizza? Jin needed to know this now. For science.
“So, Zero Seven. You know we’re not supposed to have family, right?” Vanderwood said, coolly.
“Yeah, well. She found me.”
“I did what?”
“I mean, you showed up in an apartment whose security is my job, and chatted in an app that is also my job.”
“Oh, legit. I didn’t mean to, though?” Jin said, trying to stay calm while it was very obvious that Madam Vanderwood was not at all calm. The only people that simultaneously made her feel safe and at death’s door like this were father’s goons. Jin looked at Vanderwood, then at Seven, meaningfully. Seven just shook his head before patting her hand quietly. So, no, not one of father’s men then… good.
“Anyway.” Seven said, loading a plate up with more pizza. “I gotta get back to raid. Vandy, you should come so I can explain everything going on with Miss Jin. Jin, enjoy the pizza.”
Vanderwood took another slice of pizza, watching Jin carefully before following Seven off to the office. Jin could see them talking, since the office walls were glass, but decided to just read more of her book while she gorged on pizza and PhD Pepper. Surely they could see her as well, so could tell she wasn’t getting up to some kind of nefarious mischief. Hopefully. She wouldn’t put it past that Vanderwood person to take her out if she was a threat to whatever he actually was protecting.
Jin has entered the chat
Yoosung★: Jin is here!
Jin: Um. Hi Yoosung! Sorry I couldn’t hang out. How’s raid night going?
ZEN: Wait, you met Yoosung?! I thought you were going to meet V and Seven!
Jin: Well…
Yoosung★: Jin forgot some stuff at my usual coffee shop so I picked it up for her and Seven brought her by to get it. Raid night is d
ZEN: You gotta meet the rest of us now, you know, it’s only fair. I don’t even know what you look like!
Jin: Yeah, you’re totally right, I do need to meet everyone else to be fair. I mean, this whole chat thing is still weird to me, but…
Yoosung★: She’s cute! Also… she looks oddly familiar. Like that one girl in my figure drawing class.
Jin: Yoosung! You can’t just say these things! Also… I am that one girl in your figure drawing class.
Jin: [Seven's Blushing / Heart Eyes Emoji]
Yoosung★: Why are you using Seven’s emoji?
Jin: They’re close enough, so I’m stealing them.
ZEN: What do you mean close enough?
Jin: I wish Seven were in here so I could ask him why I can’t send photos on this phone.
707 has entered the chat
707: The answer is ‘because you can’t’, but I can share the photos I took earlier.
Jin: Where the heck did you come from suddenly?! Stalker! Also when did you even take photos?
Jumin Han has entered the chat
Jaehee Kang has entered the chat
Jumin Han: Ah, Jin is here.
Jaehee Kang: Oh. Mr. Han came right away as well.
ZEN: Jaehee! Seven’s going to share pictures of Jin for us.
Jaehee Kang: With permission, I hope.
Jin: For sure. It’s only fair, I mean V and Seven and Yoosung have all met me in person, and it’ll only be weird if y’all haven’t at least seen a photo, right?
ZEN: Here’s me right now, Jin.
ZEN: [Zen's Album, Photo #8 , headphones on,]
Jin: Well, if I had any doubts that you were in fact the musical actor just as Jaehee said, I don’t now!
Yoosung★: Oh, are we sharing selfies! I’ve got one!
Yoosung★: [Yoosung Photo 9, closed-eyes grin]
707: Here’s a cute one I took of Jin earlier.
707: [Photo of Jin with her hair fanned out around her head while she lays on the couch reading, her face half-obscured by book]
Jumin Han: Oh, Jin is beautiful.
ZEN: Seven, be serious dude, that’s just you in cosplay.
707: Is not!!!
707: I have proof that Jin and I are not the same person!
707: [photo of Jin and Seven together, smiling - Jin's hair is up with takeout chopsticks.]
707: See? Both of us!
Jin: How did you even take that that second one?!
ZEN: Huh, my neighbor has hair like that.
Yoosung★: Seven! Ready check just fired, let’s go!
Yoosung★ has left the chat
707 has left the chat
Jaehee: Such style! We should go shopping together sometime, Jin.
Jin: Ooh, I’d love that. And Zen, I promise we’re not neighbors.
For the first time that day, Jin felt like her emotions were doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing in a situation. She was terrified, and trying to pretend everything was fine. That’s how she should be feeling while in a strange car with a man she had known for a sum total of five minutes, if you only counted the time they were within 50 feet of each other.
“So, why are you taking me to get my things?” Jin asked, carefully watching the stoic driver.
“Because.” Vanderwood said, curtly.
“And I’m supposed to just accept that reasoning?”
“Yes.”
“Well I don’t. Try again.”
“Ugh. Because that idiot is busy raiding and someone needs to keep you safe.”
“I can keep me safe. I’ve been fine for a year.”
“Right. Let’s just pretend I believe that. And can you imagine the hell that will rain down on Zero Seven if you get reclaimed by your father?”
Jin paused. She really had no argument about that. “It certainly wouldn’t be good. Doesn’t make me comfortable alone in a car with some rando.”
“You were plenty comfortable in the bunker earlier.”
Jin blushed, turning her face toward the window so he wouldn’t see it. “That’s different. That’s my brother.”
“That you just met today?”
“Try convincing me he’s not my brother.”
“Not my point. Shouldn’t you be more wary?”
“You’d think that, but for all the years I was trapped with my father he was free, so… I’d say he’s doing better than me. Which means I should listen to him, you know? Trust and shit.”
“And what did he say to you about this expedition?”
Jin sighed, and looked down at her hands in her lap. “That I should accept your help.”
“So now that you understand, tell me anything that might be important in regards to safety when we are collecting necessary items.”
Jin paused, still wary, but gave in after Vanderwood raised an eyebrow at her silence.
“My place is a half-basement apartment, shares a wall with a guy next door who likes to sing along to showtunes a lot.”
“Sounds like the RFA’s pretty boy.”
“Oh. You mean Zen? Yeah, my neighborhood’s way too rough for his kind.”
Vanderwood chuckled, and took the highway exit towards her neighborhood.
“Anyway there’s a fire escape that leads down from the roof, and a shared interior set of stairs that lead to it. I figure if anything goes wrong I can take the roof exit and meet you around the other side of the building or something.”
“Not a bad idea. Only works if they don’t know about the stairs.”
“Fingers crossed that he hasn’t hired anyone smarter than the idiots who’ve been trying to find me for a year then.”
Vanderwood grumbled, but accepted the point.
“Alright, keep your phone on in your pocket so I can hear if anything happens. Everything should be fine, but I don’t want to deal with Seven if you fuck this up somehow.”
“Me, what about you?”
“I don’t make mistakes on jobs.”
“Oh.” Jin nodded. She’d forgotten that this was the kind of thing that they supposedly did.
“I don’t have a lot, so this should only take about fifteen minutes, tops.”
“Make it ten.”
Here are Zen and Yoosung's selfies that were referenced in the chat:
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So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.
The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class. I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.
I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.
Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.
10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.
The Parents
From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.
Or while it was still bleeding.
If she was into that.
Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.
Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.
And he always gets his due.
He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.
Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~
Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.
Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.
This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.
Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?
Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.
Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.
What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.
Mortesha would know.
The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.
Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.
The Children
Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.
Anyway.
Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!
Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.
Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.
I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace. I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.
Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.
She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.
Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.
Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.
That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.
Annnnyway. This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.
#long post#the addams family#Character Design#au#design challenge#i am incapable of doing a design challenge like a normal person#oh god i forgot the cut lol
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As the oldest child I have done everything I can to impart my wisdom onto my younger siblings, and now out of general boredom I shall share this knowledge with you:
1. The scary adult business place is just as scared of you as you are of it, just stay calm
2. There is always someone stupider than you and they've probably already done the stupidest thing you're scared of doing, don't worry about it
3. If you're playing, play fair. If you're fighting, fight dirty- don't mix that shit up.
4. Don't stick your dick in crazy
5. Highschool doesn't matter and everyone around you is a dumb child. Get what you need to graduate, use all the free shit, and have fun.
6. Don't worry about acing the class- just pass the class. Just passing is good enough.
7. Adults don't know what the fuck they're doing half the time, but they're scared of you finding out so don't call them on it or they'll double down
8. Eat all the garbage food you want NOW because when you get to Puberty: The Final Chapter you'll start tasting the weird chemical shit and it won't feel as good
9. The vast majority of your government couldn't find it's ass with both hands, they fuck up all the time and at some point they'll fuck up with you. Just roll with it.
10. When in doubt, go with your gut. People who go with their gut survive. The ones that don't survive don't talk about not surviving because they're dead. It's actually kind of 50/50
11. Get punched at least once so you know if you can handle it
12. If you know something is going to make you sick, don't do it.
13. Fear is your friend and they want you to be safe, but sometimes your friend is controlling and overbearing and you need to enforce your fucking boundaries. Jesus Christ, I'm not going to die at the grocery store
14. What doesn't kill you makes for a good story to tell at parties
15. As an extension of 14, sometimes when multiple choices lay ahead, you have to go with the one that makes the better story.
16. Don't do anything when you're angry. Wait ten minutes and then do something. Maybe even take a nap first.
17. Most things aren't such a big deal after a nap, a shower, a snack, or a glass of water.
18. If someone you love were to die tomorrow, what's the one thing you'd want them to know? Tell them that. More than once, if necessary. Whenever the impulse strikes.
19. Do Not Buy Dollar Store Peanut Butter. I Cannot Stress This Enough. Do Not Buy Dollar Store Peanut Butter.
20. Don't cheap out on garbage bags.
21. There is a quiet, noble dignity in humble work. Respect that.
22. Respect is not a thing that can be demanded, dignity is not a thing you can bottle, and all the knowledge and talent in the world can't buy joy if you're an asshole.
23. The ultimate punishment that comes to all unrepentantly mean and cruel people is that they are doomed to waste their life being a mean and cruel person.
24. Everything weird you loved as a kid is still awesome and there's nothing stopping you from going back.
25. Wash your plate as soon as you're done with it.
26. You can use the toddler's brand bubblegum toothpaste if you think the mint shit is nasty
27. This isn't advice it's a threat but if you piss all over the communal toilet seat and don't clean up after yourself I'm going to hunt you down John Wick style and snap your legs like pretzel sticks
28. Find an entertaining physical hobby, it'll do wonders for your mental health.
29. Anger is a positive emotion, just don't let it control you.
30. Glitter isn't annoying it's beautiful and it belongs everywhere
31. Sometimes people aren't misunderstood, they're just unpleasant
32. If something new isn't willing to meet you halfway, you don't need them.
33. Never paint a room lavender, it always ends up looking grey after a while and it's depressing as shit yo
34. Again I cannot stress this enough if I walk into a bathroom and find piss all over the toilet seat I'm not even going to bother asking you to take care of it I'm just going to nuke the house from orbit and take us both out at once, don't fucking leave piss all over the fucking seat
35. Buy gold
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That Diavolo angst was perfect. The best, most high quality cheese at the end. Domestic fluff galore. Decadence straight from the source of your hands.
Could we get some Diavolo fluff with an MC who ran away from home(of lamentation) that wants to spend the night at the castle because the brothers were being dismissive [in tsundere and sibling fun-poking ways] but it just kept reminding MC of their abusive home life in the most innocuous ways
i.e. Satan mocking the books they like for being "too whimsical/fanciful". Asmo making a few too many degrading comments on their skin/hair care or lack thereof (like, tell me the RIGHT way to do it then! If I'm such a fuck up on my own). Mammon and Belphie.... being Mammon and Belphie. Levi gate keeping them from devildom equivalent interests because they're "not a real fan if they don't [x]"
A/N: Awww you spoil me with compliments ~^.^~! I hope this is to your liking!
It was late and Diavolo was exhausted. Diavolo looks down at his over inundated schedule, black and red ink covering the pages, barely any of the original white pages could be seen now. Squinting he chuckles at the elegant handwriting of his butler. He had quite literally penciled in two hours for sleep. A sweet gesture for the evening. It was unfortunate he had wasted half of that time going over in his last meeting of the night.
The meeting was supposed to be just a brief update on the expansion of the kingdom out west. New trading routes with the colonies and lands not yet in his domain. But, as usual, the evening turned to his exchange program and he always had time to talk about his pet project, even if his schedule didn’t. Each of the brothers was adamant that the program was going well. Better than they had hoped in fact, they all warmed up to you much to his delight, even saying they were treating you like you were part of the family.
That should have been his first clue. He knew the brothers and how they acted with family. Perhaps it was because he was exhausted that the comment went over his head, perhaps it was his own ego telling him everything was going great. He brushed aside the remarks to conclude the meeting and get to his rooms without a second thought. Diavolo practically vibrating with excitement at the hot bath waiting for him. Maybe he could nab some chocolate from Barbatos’s secret stash too. With those sweet thoughts filling his head and his eyes buried in his agenda he overlooks you standing by his door. He skids to a stop only after almost knocking you off your feet with his massive bulk. “My apologies, I did not see you there.” He steadies you looking you over for any injuries. “Do you need something?” He forces an energetic smile onto his face to hide his exhaustion and slight irritation at yet another snag in his evening.
He watches you shuffle in place for a moment, eyes downcast. “Sorry-sorry, it’s silly, but could I stay with you for a bit? I don’t want to be at the house.” Your voice warbles, hands coming up to wipe at fresh tears. Diavolo’s hearts sink, his previous exhaustion taking a backseat to you.
He beckons you into his room without a second thought. “What’s wrong? What happened?” You shake your head rubbing harder at your face, your skin getting more and more agitated. He purrs deep in his chest pulling you close on instinct to comfort you and for you to stop agitating your skin. You bury your face in his uniform.
“It’s stupid really, I don’t know why I’m upset.” You laugh. The weak sound getting caught on a wet hiccup. “I just can’t handle the teasing right now.” Anger begins to brew in his gut, the brothers, you were obviously talking about them. Had he been to lose with his leash? Did they lie to him?
He leads you to his favorite chair by the window and crouches next to you. “Explain, please? If I need to correct this I will.” He listens, letting you vent and get your frustration out. He never had siblings nor any real family to relate your experiences with like you did, but he understood the mounting weight of words. There was only so much one could take before even the strongest shoulders crumble. “I’m sorry they hurt you.” He reaches to squeeze your knee in reassurance. “I could have Barbatos explain the matter to them, if you allow it.”
You sniff and give him a watery smile. “Thank you but I have to express this myself- I just needed some time away from them.” You cover his large hand with both of yours and squeeze back. “Thanks for listening.” Diavolo rumbles warmly, eyes locking with your warm hands.
“Anytime mi giglio,” He leans back onto his heels. “If I’m honest, their little jabs are utter baseless garbage.”
“Yeah?” You chuckle wiping your nose with his gifted handkerchief. “You don’t think I’m some boring sentimental human?” He shakes his head letting out a dismissive snort. You are beautiful and if Asmo was too blinded by his own standards and routines then it was his loss. He loves the character and different textures of your body. He loves your permanent laugh lines and the way your skin by your eyes crinkle when you smile. The way your nose scrunches when you are happy just makes him glow when in your presence.
Even the tiny scars and marks on your skin told stories that his body never could be able to do. He envied the way human lives could be seen through their bodies, the stories their bodies tell with or without them knowing was amazing. Demons, with their smooth lines, tight hard skin, and hidden agendas couldn’t do that. The idea of “gate-keeping” as you called it was a completely new contempt to him, and sounded ridiculous too. It was counterintuitive to his whole program. If you enjoyed the programs and culture then why were the brothers chastising you over it? He makes a mental note to find time off to take you to enjoy some of the sights of his Devildom without the brother's judgment.
“No. You- you,” He waves his free hand in the air trying to find words that won’t embarrass him. “You are fascinating and so unashamed of your interests. The life you live is unlike any demon or fallen angel could ever comprehend. If they tease you on such trivial things then that speaks to a fault in their character, not yours.” He lets them hang in the air between you, not wanting the meaning to be lost in useless banter.
The silence between you was comfortable and Diavolo basked in it. Normally silence was always tense around him, everyone always waiting for a decree or punishment. Right now though there is none of that. “Wise words, where did you get them?” You move away to pat at your blotchy face, trying to wipe away the tear stains.
Diavolo huffs at the loss of your soft touch. “Little D.” He jokes, voice deadpan. You laugh turning to face him. “There we are!” He cracks a small grin already feeling your mood relax. Leaning in close he wipes away a stray tear. “Feeling a bit better? Perhaps we can-” Your phone buzzes from your discarded bag making you jump apart. You rush over digging through the bag to grab the blasted device looking at the rapid-fire amount of texts and calls all come in at once. “The brothers?” Diavolo sighs cursing their interruption. He can see the long streams of text bubbles scroll by in the reflection of your damp eyes.
“Yeah.” You look up from your screen. “They are wondering where I am.” Diavolo grimaces not even trying to hide his feelings. You glance back at the phone with little interest, then shrug powering it off. “I think I can let them stew in it for a bit, don’t you? Mind if I crash here for the night?” The Devil perks up, gold eyes following the trajectory of your phone as you toss it. The decorative case disappearing into the cushions.
“I couldn’t agree more.” He claps his hands together in excitement. “Come! Read me one of the stories Satan found jejune. I think I have a few Devildom children's stories on a shelf somewhere to share too!” Diavolo gets up already deciding which room you will stay in for the evening. Perhaps if he plays his cards right you could stay the weekend.
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A MASTERLIST OF “OBSCURE” AND “UGLY” TRAITS AND OTHER THINGS. (1/?)
Anyone who knows me knows I love a downright gross character with sincere but obscure attributes. I recently made a PSA, located here, about how we should make traits like this more popular in the RPC. An anon suggested that I put together a list of traits and other things to work into a character’s personality in this sense! You can find that list under the cut. Enjoy!
Give your character bloody, scratched up knees.
Horrible fashion sense.
Bald spots.
Skin picking.
A habit of burping.
Make them overcompensate, make them desperate to save face.
Make them overly talkative. Obnoxious, annoying.
Awkwardness. Allow your characters to be awkward as fuck. Awkwardness isn’t always quirky. For me, it’s sweaty armpits and a bright red face.
Hey, there’s one. Sweat. Sweaty armpits. Sweaty tits. Sweaty hairlines.
Do research on health problems and concerns. Portray them in an understandable and careful way. A character can have Trichotillomania aka excessive hair-pulling. Give them diabetes, heart problems, OCD, Epilepsy, Arthritis, joint pain, back pain. The list is endless. Pull from personal experience too, that always helps me.
FARTS.
Write more about your character’s period. Sometimes it’s downright gross. Describe that.
Give them bad or crooked teeth. Missing teeth too.
Thin or thinning hair.
Throw in some facial hair too. Chin hairs, especially. I have so many.
Maybe your character a nail biter.
Give them a messy home or a messy purse.
Make them unconventional.
Big noses. We love big noses.
Make them ugly but honest.
Make them unsatisfied for reasons they don’t understand. Let draw from this dissatisfaction and grow irritated by everyday life.
Obscure interests. Clowns, bruises, dirt, ghosts, trashcans, tearing out book pages, taping receipts to the wall, strange little tattoos, sex, demons, scissors. Whatever you can think of.
Make your characters cut their hair on impulse. Get ugly, horrible haircuts. They can cut their bangs at 3am and regret it when they wake up.
Sleeping until the afternoon.
Broken bones.
Maybe they’re obsessed with the internet and social media.
Let them have lots of dirty laundry.
Hair chewing.
Necklace chewing.
Junk food lover.
The person who forgets to wear deodorant.
The person who forgets to wear deodorant but always has a little travel one inside their bag. Thank God.
Rotting milk in the back of the fridge.
Doesn’t text back. Never answers emails.
Make them fickle. Make them change their mind often.
Give them a crooked spine.
Smelly feet.
Sore feet.
Bad at exercise.
Slowest runner on the planet.
Old pillowcases. They forget to wash them. But when they do, it’s awesome.
Excess cleaner. Everything needs to be clean or the world explodes.
Rashes.
Eye boogers. We all wake up with them.
Bad breath. Nobody wakes up with minty breath, dude.
Bad at makeup. Always has mascara and lipstick all over the place. One time, a foundation bottle exploded.
Make them want to be liked. Adored.
Make them ignore people.
Ripped tights.
Chipped nail polish.
Blotchy tans.
Uneven skin tone.
Ache. Pimples. Zits. Puss. WE ALL HAVE THEM.
Back acne....come on, give your character back acne.
Textured skin.
Poor communication skills.
Slow reader.
Not good at math.
Hell, not good at school subjects at all.
Poop. LET YOUR CHARACTERS POOP, DAMN IT.
IBS.
Yeast infections.
Hairy balls.
Hairy legs. Hairy boobs. Hairy everything.
Chronic kick the ice under the fridge person.
Shopaholic. But, for like, stupid shit. Trinkets, books they’ll never read, journals they’ll never write in, stickers, ribbons, shark teeth, rocks, marbles, fancy napkins, plates, figurines, lotion, hats, Christmas decorations, and more.
Did I mention trashcans?
Starts writing in journals but then gets annoyed and never writes in it ever again. Now they have tons. Too many. They’re all filled with one to three pages max.
Make your characters a try hard. Desperados.
Make them get fired. Lose their jobs. Make them bad at their job.
Steal from the job.
Make them storm chasers.
Or a cashier at the dollar store.
Can’t swim.
Their whole life is a junk drawer.
Just give them a junk drawer. There are so many batteries in there.
MASTURBATE. LET YOUR CHARACTERS JERK OFF.
Do they masturbate a lot? How? Do they just do it to go to sleep? Make them masturbate just to go to sleep.
Ugly cry.
Ugly orgasm.
Scars.
Birthmarks.
Discharge.
Uneven tits.
Uneven balls.
Little dick, big dick, small dick. Sing it with me.
One day I’ll build that Ikea table. Not.
Dirty dishes. I’m not doing them.
Your character doesn’t do the dishes? Make them have a habit of chucking them in the garbage and buying new ones.
LAZY. LAZY. LAZY. SO FUCKING LAZY.
Has cereal with every meal.
Drinks right from the bottle.
Collects mugs.
Collects rubber bands.
Cries at everything. At every movie, every commercial.
Receding hairline. Sorry, buddy.
Silver hair.
Dry skin.
Dandruff.
Greasy hair. I didn’t have time to shower.
Mismatched socks.
Ripped underwear.
RIPPED PANTS. OH NO.
Worst driver ever.
Secretly, I’m an asshole. But only in secret.
Accidentally burnt the apartment down. Nothing tragic. Nobody died. I left a pizza in the oven.
Let random shit happen. Not everything is a tragedy. Accidents. Oops.
Give your characters studio apartments. Small homes. Old homes. Little, tiny spaces.
Give your characters regular, working class jobs. Receptionist, garbage person, cashier, deli manager, dishwasher, food staff, telemarketer. Once again, the list is endless.
Break some hearts. Your character can cause the suffering.
Dysfunctional siblings.
Fried, dry ass hair.
Make them make terrible art.
Make them not very talented. You don’t have to be good at everything to be happy.
Involved in a crime. Missing person, theft. You name it.
Make them a bad criminal. Maybe they suck at it.
Worst. Assassin. Ever.
NOT EVERYONE IS AN EXPERT.
Maybe they smoke too much weed.
Smelly socks.
Maybe they smell too good....so good that it’s disgusting. Potent.
#rp psa#masterlist.#resources.#BY ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#this was so fun.....maybe i'll make a part 2 sometime#rph#rpc#rpt
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Practice Makes Perfect
Wrote this little drabble instead of working. Thanks @tobeornottobetequila for the prompt that led to this disaster. You can also read it here on ao3 :)
“He is here! Here is here! He is here!”
Izzy came running into the dorm with Simon following closely behind.
“Are you ready, buddy?” Jace put a hand on his shoulder.
Alec swallowed a jello shot from the tray Clary was holding. “Now or never.”
Today was the day.
Alec had been pining after Magnus for two whole semesters now. He had been trying to ask the other boy out almost every day, but kept chickening out.
Finally, his friends who had confessed that they could no longer put up with his pining, had come up with a plan to help Alec ask Magnus out.
Now usually Alec would never condone - and definitely not be a part of – any plan concocted by his siblings and friends.
For they were, as the kids say, chaotic as fuck.
But to his own surprise, he had agreed.
For he was, as the kids say, desperate as fuck.
Clary took out more jello shots out of the mini fridge as Simon kept an eye on the entrance for Magnus.
“Do we really need to do all of this?” Simon asked, eying the trays of jello shots.
“Babe, we’ve been through this,” Izzy told him. “Alec needs liquid courage to ask Magnus out.”
“Does he?” Simon asked, addressing Alec. “Why can’t you just tell him how you feel?”
“Tell him how you feel,” Jace snorted. “What kind of garbage advice is that?”
“It’s not like I haven’t tried!” Alec tried to defend himself. “Every time I try to tell him how I feel and ask him out but he is just….There is only so much I can do!”
“You just need to be a little-”
“Stop victim blaming!” Alec protested. “It’s not my fault he looks like a Greek god!”
“Who looks like a Greek god!”
They all turned in unison to find Magnus in the entrance, carrying a pile of books.
It has only been two seconds and Alec was already sweating.
His friends had told him that with liquid courage and with their support, it would be easier to ask Magnus out.
But that wasn’t true, was it?
He could barely talk to Magnus when they were alone. How was he going to ask him out with so many others in the room?
Besides, the plan itself was crazy. I mean, it was Jace’s idea. So of course it was crazy.
Maybe Simon was right. Maybe he should just tell Magnus how he felt.
Nah, that wasn’t it.
He wondered if anyone would notice if he quietly jumped out of the window.
“Magnus!” Izzy beamed and welcomed him into Alec and Jace’s dorm.
Magnus eyed the jello shots on the table and then the books in his hand. “Um, this doesn’t look like the study session I was promised.”
“Oh, we are studying alright,” Clary said. “We are studying matters of the heart.”
“What?” Magnus blinked.
“Alec here is trying to ask out his crush,” Jace said. “But he is a little nervous. So, we are going to help him.”
Magnus blinked, a little slowly this time. “Oh.”
“And we thought you could help,” Clary smiled. Alec was grateful for her presence. He knew she was Magnus’ favorite out of them all.
“Oh,” Magnus said again. “What do…What can I do?”
“Well, it’s simply really,” Izzy grinned. “We thought we could do some basic role playing. Alec can ask you out for practice. We really think it might help.”
“Why can’t Jace do it?” Magnus asked, not looking at Alec.
“Because we are the Lightwoods, not the Lannisters,” Jace replied. “I mean we could use Simon…but we don’t want to, ya know?”
“Hey!” Simon protested.
“Do you mind helping, Magnus?” Clary asked. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Alec gave a quick smile. He didn’t want Magnus to do this if he didn’t want to either.
Magnus bit his lip.
“Are you okay with this, Alexander?” he asked and Alec wanted to sob.
The way he said his name. The way his eyes scanned Alec’s face to see if he was okay. The way he offered to help someone without a worry. The way his lips had this tiny red mark where he had bit them.
How was Alec supposed to ask this man out without passing the fuck out?
“I…I mean if you’re okay with it then…” Alec faltered.
“I’m asking if you’re okay with it,” Magnus said.
“Are you okay with it?” Alec asked.
“I’m okay with it if you are,” Magnus smiled.
“Well, I’m okay with it if you are,” Alec repeated.
“Christ,” Jace swore behind him.
Clary pinched her boyfriend and asked him to shut up. “Well it seems like you’re both okay with it. Let’s get started.”
They all sat in a circle. Alec sitting opposite Magnus. Izzy and Simon on the giant bean bag Jace had found in some bizarre bidding website. Jace of course was sitting on the window ledge. And Clary set down the snacks on the coffee table and sprawled on the floor like a cat.
“Alright, proceed,” Izzy clapped her hands, as if this was a duel.
“What? Just like that?” Alec asked – not anyone in particular.
Magnus just shrugged. “Why do we have jello shots?”
“Liquid courage,” Jace winked.
Magnus picked one up and suddenly started giggling. “It’s a jello shot. It’s solid, not liquid.”
Maybe it was the way there were faint wrinkles around Magnus’ eyes when he smiled – reminding Alec that magnus was someone who smiled a lot.
Maybe it was the way the Magnus’ throat bobbed when he swallowed the jello shot in one go.
Or maybe it wasn’t Magnus at all.
Maybe it was the way Simon was playing Izzy’s hair as she rested her head on his chest.
Maybe it was the way Jace and Clary were smiling at each other, sharing their love in unspoken glances.
Maybe it was the way Alec couldn’t help but feel like it would always be with this way – with him as the fifth wheel.
Whatever it was, Alec couldn’t handle it.
“I can’t do this,” Alec stood up abruptly and walked out of the door.
What was he thinking?
No amount of alcohol or moral support would be enough for him to ask Magnus out. Because that wasn’t the problem.
Alec wasn’t afraid to ask. It was just a question after all. In his classes, Alec was always that one student who always put up a hand and annoyed the professor with a million questions. No, he wasn’t afraid to ask.
But he was terrified of the answer.
Knowing he didn’t deserve Magnus was one thing. But being told that he didn’t…He didn’t know how he could cope with that.
He heard the door open behind him, followed by faint and hesitant footsteps.
“I’m fine, Jace,” Alec said quickly. “Just go ba-”
It wasn’t Jace.
“Your friends mean well,” Magnus offered a smile.
“I know,” Alec turned back again and set his eyes on the horizon. “It’s not their fault that I’m a fucking mess.”
“You’re not,” Magnus said he found his way next to Alec. “You’re fucking tall though. Fucking smart, yes. And fucking annoying – especially when you make us all stay behind during the lecture with your million follow up questions. But you are not a fucking mess.”
“I am,” Alec said, ignoring Magnus’ kind words.
He didn’t want kindness. He wanted the truth.
Magnus made an impatient gesture. “Fine, then let’s clean you up. Ask me out.”
“What?” Alec blinked.
“You said you’re a mess. Your friends are right. Practice makes perfect. Ask me out. Let’s practice.”
“I…I don’t know how,” Alec replied.
“Well, how did you do it before?” Magnus prompted. “Are you more of a straightforward guy or do you like to be super romantic and have flowers and-”
“I haven’t,” Alec interrupted. “Asked anyone out before, I mean.”
“Oh,” Magnus said. “Oh, okay. Then let’s just go with the gut. Why do you wanna ask this guy out?”
“Because I love him.”
The words tumbled out before he could stop them. Alec blushed scarlet, even though he knew Magnus was completely oblivious.
“Oh,” Magnus said, looking taken back. “I…I didn’t think it was serious.”
“It’s not,” Alec said. “It’s probably unrequited.”
“Then you shouldn’t ask him out,” Magnus replied.
“Because he doesn’t love me back?”
“Because anyone who doesn’t recognize your value isn’t worth your time, Alexander,” Magnus said.
Alec stared at him.
“Alright, let’s do this,” Alec nodded. “I’m gonna ask you out.”
Magnus smiled but then stopped immediately, as if he suddenly realized something.
“Yes,” he nodded. “Let’s practice. Ask me out Alexander Lightwood.”
Alec swallowed.
“Magnus,” Alec said and his voice came out all squeaky. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Magnus, do you want to go out with me?”
“I…” Magnus blinked. “Um, do I say yes?”
“What?”
“I don’t know what to say,” Magnus replied. “Do I say yes or what?”
“I don’t know how these things go! I haven’t asked anyone out before!” Alec almost laughed. “What usually happens?”
“Well, if I don’t like them, then I pretend like I got an emergency call from Catarina saying ragnor had a heart attack and-”
“Ragnor had a what?” Alec did laugh this time. “Surely they aren’t gonna buy that!”
“Please! It’s more like you than you think!” Magnus laughed back. Watch this. “He almost had one when he found out Prince Hans was the real villain in Frozen.”
They both laughed again, and Alec couldn’t help but want to hold onto this moment for a little longer.
“What if you like them?” he asked. “What happens then?”
“I…I don’t know,” Magnus said quietly. “I haven’t been asked out by someone I liked in a really long time.”
Maybe it was the way Magnus said, his voice sounding like he was close to giving up.
Maybe it was the way his eyes didn’t crinkle, but rather looked sad and lost.
Or maybe it wasn’t Magnus at all.
Maybe it was Alec, for once deciding to seize the moment.
“Hey, Magnus,” he said before he lost the nerve. “You like me, right?”
Magnus smiled. “I do.”
“Will you go out with me then?”
Magnus froze for a moment. “Are we…Are we still practicing?”
“No,” Alec said. “I’m asking you out for real.”
“But…But what about the other guy? The one you wanted to ask out?”
“There is no other guy,” Alec explained. “It’s you. I’ve been wanting to asking you out.”
“Hold on,” Magnus looked confused. “So, you are practicing with me to ask a guy out a later – who also happens to be me.”
Alec grinned. “Told you I’m a mess.”
“A hot mess,” Magnus grumbled, but Alec spotted a smile.
“So?” he prompted.
“So, what?” Magnus asked, never making it easy for him.
“Magnus!” Alec all but whined.
“Hold, I’m getting a call,” Magnus pulled out his phone. “Yes, Catarina? Ragnor had a what? Goodn-”
Alec grabbed Magnus in by his shirt. “You’re not as funny as you think.”
“Agree to disagree,” Magnus poked out a tongue.
“What now?” Alec asked, their faces incredibly closed. “What happens when someone you like asks you out?”
“Well, I would usually expect a rom-com level kiss,” Magnus said cheekily. “Being lifted off the ground, the 360 angle, violins in the background, doves flying – the whole thing.”
“Uh-oh,” Alec said. “We have a problem.”
“We don’t have doves, I know,” Magnus replied.
Alec laughed. “It’s not that. I…This is my first time asking someone out. That means I haven’t…I haven’t really kissed anyone before.”
Magnus smiled, and the wrinkles around his eyes were back, spread out like little rays of sunshine.
“Well, luckily for you Alexander, I know someone you can practice with.”
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Babysitter (pt 9)
Thor (Ragnarok) - fanfiction
Pt 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
Summary: A Loki interlude.
Characters: Hela, Loki
Word Count: 2,111
Warnings: Idk, swearing?
Loki was incredibly annoyed at the current situation.
He’d woken up on a random, clunky spaceship with a pounding head and a bruised neck. He remembered the world going blank and being quite certain that he’d been dead until, frustratingly so, his lungs gasped for the most painful breath he’d ever taken.
A janky pirate ship had snatched him from floating in space amongst the debris, stripped him of his armour -no doubt to sell or melt down into other knick knacks- and left him in the back amongst the cargo. They’d presumed he was dead, so when he had woken up, they had a bit of a shock.
Not a word was comprehensible, Loki couldn't understand whatever gibberish language they spoke, so he ignored them and shuffled to their food supply. That got him a whack on his back from a whip and a kick to the back of the knees.
Trying to take back his armour also earned him a few bruises. They didn’t seem very dangerous, but quite a nuisance.
Amongst the cargo he found familiar debris that struck an icy chord inside Loki. There were piles of Asgardian clothing- ripped and filthy, but Asgardian nonetheless. Bags with very few belongings, and metal scraps of the ship they had been on.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the remainder of the ship of refugees was probably lost. When the pirates began to beat him again for rummaging through their stuff, a rusty old pipe amongst the stolen goods helped quiet them down immensely.
With his kidnappers knocked out, Loki scarfed down what measly rations they had and set course for Earth at light speed -well, the closest speed they got to light speed which was more like a quick paced jog.
He tied up the crew and tossed them in the back, and lounged in the cockpit as the ship traveled on autopilot, picking scraps of food from between his teeth.
Communications on this ship were absolute garbage, he concluded. There was barely any signal and he couldn’t figure out where the closest planet was. So, he took a nap, ate some more food, and tried not to think too much about the harrowing experience of Thanos choking him to death.
Hours later, they entered a very familiar atmosphere. Loki let the ship crash-land, grabbed a bag of few supplies and hopped out just before they hit the ground.
He marched on through the thicket of trees where they landed. Angry shouts that were no doubt curse words echoed from the smoking ship as he left them behind and tried to gather his bearings.
An old cabin was the first building he saw. With a rusty dagger at the ready, he inspected the home around the back, looking for a vehicle he could take, something to get him moving faster than his legs, when suddenly a high pitched shriek nearly shattered his eardrums.
A young girl, no older than six, was staring at him with big brown eyes. Rain boots covered in mud, an aged stuffy in her hands. Loki put his finger to his lips, dreading that he was going to have to kill the girl before she gave him away or screamed bloody murder.
“Daddy! There’s an Avenger in the yard!” she sped off towards a shed, where there was a light on inside. Loki’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Whatever outcome he was expecting, this was by far the worst.
“I’m not- fuck.”
He shoved the dagger away and out of sight and stomped towards the shed, fuming with annoyance. He was about to go off at the man for letting his daughter talk to random strangers and how he certainly was not an Avenger, but the man in question had a large saw in hand and about 200 pounds of muscle to carry, so he snapped his mouth shut.
“Oh, hello there,” he said, his daughter bouncing about the workshop. “What brings one of you all the way out here?”
“And where exactly is out here?” Loki asked.
“Canada! What, you superheroes never been to Canada before? Always hanging around New York, eh? Are you taking a trip or something?”
“No. I, uh, crash-landed here.”
“From space?” the girl piped up, gawking.
“Yes, from space,” Loki said through gritted teeth. “Fighting angry aliens.”
“I told you, Daddy! He’s a hero!”
“I bet you’re trying to find your way to America, then? Lord knows why, there’s all kinds of weird things happening around town nowadays.”
“What do you mean?”
“Half the world’s gone! Poof! Just like that, some alien business I bet.”
“Are you going to save us from them?” his daughter asked again. Loki sighed.
“I’ll try my best. Now, can you please show me how to get to New York as fast as possible?”
The lumberjack’s husband took Loki and his daughter in his jeep and drove a merry long way to the nearest airport. On the way, the little girl asked him all sorts of questions about the Avengers, that he could only half-answer.
“Is it true Thor is super powerful?”
“Well. He's not that powerful. He just uses a hammer. Anyone with a hammer can use it as a weapon and suddenly be considered powerful.”
“I wish I had a super powerful hammer. Then my brothers would stop teasing me so much.”
“Hey,” her second father softly scolded.
“They’re mean!”
“Sibling feuds? I know the feeling,” Loki muttered.
“Do you have siblings, Mr. Avenger?”
“Sure do,” he smiled wryly. “Absolute bullies.”
“Me too!”
“Hey now, let our guest settle down a bit,” her dad said. “She gets a little excited around new people, so sorry.”
“It’s no problem.”
“The local airport’s just up here. It’ll take you to Detroit, and then you gotta get a connection flight to New York.”
“Thank you,” Loki said, genuinely.
“Why are you going to New York, Mr. Avenger?”
“To find my siblings,” Loki sighed. “At least, one of them should still be there.”
“But they’re mean to you?”
“Yeah,” Loki pondered as the car came to a stop. “But they’re family. I suppose.”
-
A few cunning lies and disguises later, Loki was suddenly landing in New York, amidst chaos. It had been a few days since he’d woken up, and apparently a few days since what they call the ‘Blip’. Humans clearly don’t like having their realities altered.
Your home was abandoned. Alfred didn't even greet Loki at the door, and no amount of pulling and prying opened it for him. The lights were off, and he feared the worst.
It wasn’t until he was in the streets and overhead muttering about some crazy goth lady terrorizing a nearby street that Loki thought he had finally found something.
He marched down the street until, to his surprise, he found Hela sitting hunched on the side walk, scowling and daring anyone to come close to her. She looked incredibly tired and disheveled, but her eyes were clear and angry, and recognized her idiot brother immediately.
“What the hell brought you back here?” Hela snarled.
“A toddler’s wisdom, if you’ll believe it,” Loki said, ignoring her glare as he sat down next to her.
“You look like shit.”
“Thanks. So do you.”
Hela grumbled.
“Have you eaten?”
“Since when did you become Mother? I don't need your help.”
“Really?” Loki picked up a filthy scoop from a pile of three ice cream tubs that were fully devoured. He dangled it from his fingertips for a moment, pulling a face. “I think you do.”
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Glad to see you too, sister.”
Silence. Hela really did look like shit, Loki noted. Her hair was mussed, and there were rips and broken pieces in her armour, reminiscent of the time they’d met. She had to be weak not to bother fixing it with her powers, or was just too preoccupied to even think to fix it.
“Where’s Y/N?” Loki asked.
“Beats me.”
“Did you kill her?”
Hela’s eyes snapped to his, a sudden fire in them. “How dare you say that?”
“Well, her home is abandoned and no one answered the door, and you’re here cowering like a criminal. One makes conclusions.”
Something changed in her expression, and she turned her body to face him. “Abandoned?”
Loki frowned, “yes. Didn't you know?”
“No- I.. I’ve been here, the last time I saw her...”
Hela jumped to her feet, nearly kicking Loki in the process. “That bastard, he took her, didn’t he? Him and his awful, forsaken pieces of shit he calls friends.”
“Who?”
“Our darling brother,” she spat. “He came in and- and threatened me, and then took her from me.”
She paced in front of him, green fire trailing behind her heels, hot with anger. She had expected you to come find her, take her back to your home, make her feel safe. But when you never came she had assumed you had abandoned her. Now, knowing Thor had taken you instead, filled her with rage.
“Where does your little posse hang out, hm? Some supposed secret lair? A great big castle in the sky?”
Loki blinked at her, at her sudden outbursts, at the scared glances from passerbys, and didn’t know what to say.
“Fine then, I’ll get her myself,” she growled, turning away from him.
Loki nearly let her walk away, let her walk into whatever doom she was getting herself into, but with a groan and a mad realization, he knew she was the only one he could rely on right now.
“Wait,” he said, reluctantly, hurrying after her and grabbing her arm. “You can’t just go running off. Tell me what happened.”
Hela spat at his feet. “I don’t need to tell you anything.”
“You care about her, don't you? Y/N? Why else would you want to ‘rescue’ her from our brother?”
“Be silent,” she hissed.
“No, no, I’m right, aren’t I? You care for her, but you messed up, and now you have no one on your side. That’s why you left, and that’s why Thor had to take her.”
Hela yanked her arm away before Loki could see her face, but he knew what she felt; remorse, and loss.
“Tell me.”
And so, reluctantly, knowing she had no other choice, Hela sat him down, this time on an actual park bench rather than the ground. She told him what had happened, how her mistrust had turned to affection for you, and how Thanos had destroyed everything in the end, and how the Avengers had fought her out of fear.
“I know the feeling,” Loki agreed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, watching an elderly lady feed a bunch of pigeons as if nothing drastic had happened to the world the past few days.
“And now I don't know where she is, and she probably hates me, but who am I to blame her for that?”
“If I know anything about Y/N, is that she cares about everyone, but it takes a lot more to win her love. She doesn’t hate you. She’s just afraid. I mean, you did after all break her window and run off into nowhere.”
Hela stayed quiet, made an annoyed sound in her throat, and looked away.
“I’m starving, how did you get all that ice-cream? Why not an actual meal? Or were you just eating your feelings?”
“Y/N doesn’t like it when I kill people, so it was either massacre the street or steal their dairy products,” Hela bristled.
“Fair enough.”
“Now what, hm? You come out here, seemingly from the dead, chastise me for messing up, and now judge my diet? What do you really want, Loki?”
“Not sure, to be perfectly honest,” Loki said. “I thought I was dead, and then I wasn’t. Frankly, my priorities are shifting.”
“And what is your current priority?”
“Getting you back to Y/N so you stop moping around and fix this.”
“And how do you suppose we do that?”
Loki grinned, standing up. His armour shimmered and regained its full glamour; horned helmet and deep green cloak.
“Taking notes from me, are we?” Hela grumbled. Loki glared at her.
“I was wearing this look long before you got here. Now, get up, we’re going to infiltrate the Avengers and give you your romantic happily-ever-after so you stop being such a pain in everyone’s neck.”
“You think we’ll just be able to get in? You really are as mad as Father was.”
“I’ve broken into quite a few places over the years, I’ll have you know. I’m the God of Mischief after all.”
“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Hela stood, her own armour strengthening again.
“Shut it.”
A/N: Loki is not dead! I know he’s technically alive in an alternate universe or whatever.. but I wanted the Odin Trio to be together sooooo here we are. Let me know what you think!!
taglist: @midnight-lestrange @cheerfullyvenomous @germansarechill@gaylorrds @amii-nyc @waitingfortheendtocome @novakitten0901@marvels-writings
#hela#hela x reader#hela/reader#hela x you#hela odinsdottir#thor#thor ragnarok#thor ragnarok fanfiction#loki#loki odinsin#marvel#mcu#marvel fanfiction#cate blanchett#tom hiddleston#best siblings amirite#wlw#lgbt#merry writes
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crush culture || kendall knight - chapter one
Summary: In which Kendall Knight has a crush on a girl who plays the drums at a local cafe
Word Count: 2,356
______________
❝ you make me feel like a
teenager in love, you make me
feel like i'll be forever young❞
KENDALL GROANED AS HE HEARD A CRASH FROM OUTSIDE HIS BEDROOM, throwing a throw pillow over his head to block out the noises and lights. He'd had to go into the studio yesterday for nearly twelve hours trying to fulfill one of Gustavo's checklists, and about halfway through, he'd started developing a migraine. He'd shrugged it off the night before and tried to sleep it off, but it had somehow gotten worse overnight.
Thankfully, he would have the day off, as he'd managed to get a few harmonies done the day before. He reached toward his navy blue curtains and pulled them over the sunlight leaking in through his window, laying still as he waited for the noise in the apartment to die down.
It was moments like this that he longed for his life in Minnesota. While he was thankful that he'd been given such a privileged life in California, he knew that if he hadn't gone to the auditions with James six months ago, he would've been at the ice rink at the moment, practicing for a hockey scholarship. He wouldn't have learned the meaning of 'stress migraine,' and he definitely wouldn't have had to leave his apartment to get a decent cup of coffee.
When he finally forced himself out of bed, he was met with an empty coffee machine and an empty bag of ground coffee. Kendall all but slammed his head into the kitchen pantry, throwing the bag into the garbage disposal and reaching for his phone. In truth, he wasn't even completely sure where the nearest cafe was, but he remembered his mom mentioning that there was a small one at the hippie grocery store on Rosé.
'God, that's such a Hollywood name,' Kendall thought to himself as he ordered his taxi. Once it confirmed, he quickly changed into a hoodie and jeans, sliding his keys into his back pocket. He headed for the taxi the moment he saw it drive into the parking lot, only giving slight nods to his friends as he rushed to get his coffee.
Thankfully, the driver hadn't tried to start any conversations, allowing him to sit in the backseat in silence. He leaned his head against the window, shutting his eyes as he tried to block out the sunlight. It felt as though direct sunlight would set fire to the back of his eyes.
As the driver pulled into the front of the grocery store, Kendall winced at the slight jerking movement of the vehicle as it came to a halt. He handed a fifty dollar bill to the driver and stepped out, pulling his hoodie over his head as he stared at the oddly hippie grocery store, complete with plants hanging outside the building and a green-painted sign with the name 'Williams' painted in white letters.
Kendall lightly rolled his eyes at the California culture, making his way into the store and heading for the cafe area towards the back. It was a completely different atmosphere from the coffee places and grocery stores they'd had in Minnesota, and while he likely would've figured that out sooner, he'd spent the majority of his time in California stuffed in a recording studio.
As he approached the cafe, he noticed a few bookshelves towards the wall, filled with journals and cooking books, and whatever else California people liked to read. He walked toward the counter and noticed a short girl sitting behind the register, a dazed look on her face as she rhythmically tapped her fingers.
"Uh, hey, could I get a cup of coffee?" Kendall asked, pulling his hoodie off his head. He'd made a slight effort to brush out his hair, but had given up after a while and shoved it ebenath a gray beanie.
The girl snapped out of her thoughts and turned to face him, allowing him to get a view of her name tag: Emory. She smiled happily, soft brown eyes lighting up when she noticed him. "Hi! Welcome to William's Coffee House. What can I get you?"
An involuntary smile came to his face when he heard her voice, but it quickly faded away when his eyes drifted to the menu. He fumbled with his words as he scanned the list of coffees, complete with lattes and espressos -- and what the hell was a macchiato? Kendall rubbed the back of his neck, confusion painted across his ivory features. "Uh... the coffee... kind?"
Emory bit back a laugh and went through the buttons on the register. "I'll just get you a small black coffee, and you can add cream and sugar if you want."
"Thank you," He sighed. He reached to grab a twenty dollar bill from his pocket, but she pushed his hand away quickly. Kendall looked u, dark eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"Don't even worry about it. It's on the house," She explained lightly, standing to go prepare his coffee. "You look like you've had a rough day."
"Is it that obvious?" Kendall questioned, tugging at the edges of his beanie so they covered his temples. They felt like they were going to explode.
She hesitated, reaching out to hand his coffee cup to him. She pursed her lips together, as if she were searching for the best words to tell him that he looked like he just crawled out from the garbage disposal. Emory winced at her own words as she said, "You're still cute."
Kendall might've blushed if it weren't for the tightening feeling on the right side of his head.
As he reached up to press his palms against his eyes, Emory questioned, "Do you have a migraine? I have Excedrin in my bag, if you want some. They're not crazy drugs or whatever."
"Excedrin?" He pulled his hands away from his eyes to find her holding out a small bottle of acetaminophen. She smiled lightly and placed it next to her coffee. "Thanks."
"No problem. I carry them around 'cause my brother and I get migraines a lot. One or two should be good depending on how bad it is," Emory advised. Kendall ignored her and shook three pills out of the bottle. "I mean, or you could do that."
The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile as he went to take the three excedrins and swallow them down with the hot coffee. He winced at the taste, setting it down.
"Didn't you say you wanted cream and sugar?" Emory questioned, pointing at the cup.
Kendall deadpanned at the sight of the cream and sugar, throwing his hand onto the desk. Emory giggled and took the cup from him, shaking in a little bit of each ingredient. Her laugh was high-pitched, similar to a cartoon character's. He lifted his head slightly. "Cute laugh."
Emory dropped the sugar packet into the cup. Her eyes widened and she quickly began preparing another cup. "I'm Emory."
"Kendall," He responded. "That's a... unique name."
"Thanks," She chuckled. "My Pops chose it. It's supposed to mean 'brave' or 'powerful' or something. I'm neither of those, which is why I'm working in a nearly empty café at eleven in the morning on a Friday."
"Three-day weekend," Kendall shrugged and took the cup from her. He smiled, his migraine already beginning to fade away.
She nodded and sat down in a stool behind the counter. Emory didn't have the nerve to tell him that her dads had named her other siblings 'Silas' and 'Andromeda.' She also didn't have the energy to explain that her dads had given her one mental health day per quarter, and she'd used it today so she could skip out on volleyball. She was only 5'2" which made serving the ball practically impossible.
For some reason, she'd wanted to impress him. She wasn't quite sure how to do that while she was sitting in a coffee apron, at the back of a grocery store, though. He was genuinely attractive -- the kind that you found on the cover of magazines and billboards. Complete with dirty blonde bangs, deep green eyes, and dimples. As dramatic as it sounded, Emory swore he would be the death of her.
Kendall stole glances at her as she cleaned up the suddenly messy counter, and pretended not to notice when she glanced back. He hadn't been able to meet a lot of people in Hollywood -- at least, no one outside of the Palm Woods. Gustavo and Kelly had kept him under lock and key in the studio. It had been somewhat justified, of course, considering they were working on an album; but there were times where he missed working at the grocery store in Minnesota. Times where he would've preferred to be playing hockey with his friends, as opposed to learning the same dance moves over and over again.
God, he felt privileged.
"So, skipping out on school, pretty boy?" Emory had said it without even glancing up, but he could hear the smile in her words.
"No, I, uh, have an off-day today," Kendall responded awkwardly. He wasn't sure how to explain that he'd completely forgotten about the essay he had to turn on by three o'clock today. "What about you?"
"My dads let me take the day off," Emory explained. She caught her words immediately and winced, waiting for the backlash or questions she would inevitably receive. Even in California, the LGBT capital of the world, there were somehow always questions.
"Dads, huh? What are their names?"
"Johan and Gerard," She said hesitantly. He would ask about her siblings now, or whether her mom had died, or where she was adopted from. She held her breath.
"That's cool."
'What the fuck?'
"Yeah, they're pretty great," Emory agreed, slightly confused but overall relieved by his reaction. He only gave her a calm look, implying that he was generally unbothered by the topic. She nodded in approval. "So, tell me about yourself, pretty boy."
"What do you wanna know?" Kendall asked, leaning back in his chair. "I'm from Minnesota; I really love hockey and music; and me and my sister Katie were raised by a single mom."
"What do you mean by 'you love music?'" Emory squinted her eyes lightly and sat down in the seat across from him, leaning forward. "Do you, like, play any instruments or are you one of those guys that listens to music and says they love it so they look really cool and pretentious?"
"I'm in a band with my best friends. I think I'm pretty into music," Kendall chuckled. "I play, like, the smallest amount of guitar; but I mostly sing."
"It's not a band of none of you play the instruments," Emory was quick to point out. "I'm in a small band with my foster sister, Evie. I play drums."
"You play drums?" Kendall snickered. "And that's not fair. We're mostly singers."
"Then you're a group, not a band," She shot back. "Yeah, I play drums. Is that hard to believe?"
"You're just so tiny," Kendall laughed. "I couldn't imagine that."
"Ever hears the phrase 'you're lucky you're cute?'" Emory questioned, to sing a sugar packet in his general direction. It hit the side of his flannel jacket, and she sighed internally. He was kind of making her eyes hurt at this point. She mentally went over all the reasons that it would be completely unethical for her to ask for his number, then all of the reasons that she would regret not asking for his number.
Unfortunately, she wasn't given the time to come to a balanced conclusion. Kendall's phone rang and he took it out of his pocket, sending Emory an apologetic look as he did so. The moment he answered it, his mood seemed to falter, and by the end of the call he'd practically slammed his head against the wooden counter.
"Uh, are you okay?" Emory questioned, lightly poking his shoulder as he hung up his phone.
"Nope. My producer is calling me into work today, after he promised me the day off yesterday!" He raised his voice and yelled at his phone, despite the fact that the caller had hung up already. He peeked at Emory from between his fingers. "I probably look really weird right now."
Emory nodded, her nose crinkling as she smiled down at him. "You do."
Kendall sighed and lifted his head, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He looked at Emory. "I should probably..."
"Yeah. I wouldn't want you to get fired or anything. A face like that deserves to have screaming girls chasing after it," Emory said. She regretted her words immediately, questioning whether she'd spoken proper English just then.
If Kendall noticed, he chose not to say anything about it. Instead, he went to stand and took a few paces away from the café. "I'll uh... I'll see you around?"
'Ask for his number. Ask for his number. Ask for his number.'
"Uh, yeah! You should visit again. I'll give you a discount on your coffee next time," Emory responded with a smile.
"Yeah, I will. Uh... thanks, Emmy," Kendall nodded at her, before his phone went off in his pocket again. He groaned and pulled it out, practically yelling into the phone. "I'm coming!"
Once he was out of sight, Emory groaned and laid her head down on the counter, covering her blushing face. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Gerard, who was covered in flour and baking ingredients.
She sighed. "How much of that did you see?"
Gerard rubbed his daughter's back comfortingly. "You'll get better eventually, Emmy."
Emory deadpanned, letting out a sigh. The next time she would see him was on the cover of a magazine, being proclaimed the new teen heartthrob.
If she knew she would get Silas' flirting skills by spending so much time around him, she might've tried to get him kicked out of the house sooner.
#kendall knight#kendall schmidt#kendall knight x reader#kendall knight x oc#kendall knight imagine#kendall knight fic#kendall schmidt x reader#kendall schmidt x oc#kendall schmidt imagine#big time rush#logan mitchell#logan henderson#james diamond#james maslow#carlos garcia#carlos pena#carlos penavega#big time rush x reader#big time rush x oc#nickelodeon
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Five Hargreeves x black!reader where she goes into 1963 and people are racist towards her and he’s protective or something??? Thanks!
Summary: After Five accidentally teleports everyone into the 60s, Y/N has her own struggles
Ship: Five Hargreeves x black!reader
Warnings: violence, racism, swearing, fluff
Note: I got super into this lmao, also this fic is in your POV
——————————————————————————
You landed on a hood of a car, groaning upon impact and looked up, realizing that your siblings were no where to be found.
You were Number Eight, holding the power of telekinesis - which came in handy with your 7 other ridiculously annoying siblings. Excluding your husband Five, the man who had accidentally brought you into the future with him. And now here. Great.
Getting off of the car, you look around and spot a lovely looking cafe. Damn, you have been craving the warm taste of coffee for what seemed like years. Wiping yourself off, you walked across the street and into the building, ignoring the rude looks that people were giving you. It was probably just the dirt on your shirt or something.
“Just a coffee for me, please.”
You smile and hand a crumpled $20 bill that’s in your wallet - thank goodness it’s always in your pocket. The cashier looks at the money in your hand before spitting at you, getting saliva all over your face.
“What the fuck?!” You exclaim, shaking it off in pure disgust. Another worker comes up in front of you, pointing to a sign that appears to say Whites Only. You looked at them in disbelief. “Seriously? What is this, the sixties?”
“Yes.”
Your smirk turns into a look of panic. Where the hell did Five teleport you guys? Unfortunately, you don’t have much time to stammer out a response, because a hot cup of tea is being spilled on your head purposely. Your eyes widen before narrowing in anger, throwing a punch to the waiters nose and making it bleed.
As the other people in the cafe attempted to come towards you, you stopped them with your mind just in time. Sighing, you grab a coffee from a table before leaving.
However, you barely make it out of the store before a piece of metal comes to your head by group of white teenagers, knocking you out cold.
——————————————————————————
You wake up on the ground, feeling a huge amount of pain around your body. They had beaten the shit out of you - bruises and blood was everywhere. Fortunately, it had dried out. As you stand up, the memories come flooding back in your head. Car. Cafe. Money. Tea. Punch.
You’re in the 1960s. Perfect.
And on top of all that, you have no idea where the rest of your family is. They could be dead, for all you knew! The thought of it made you shiver. Walking around, you yawned and decided it would be a good time to start thinking of a place to stay. After all, it seemed you would be here for a good, long time. You had managed to make a small bed out of newspapers and covered yourself the best you could, finally being able to fall asleep at 3AM.
It’s going to be a long experience.
——————————————————————————
One year.
One year you have been on the streets, surviving with food that’s thrown in the garbage and the cold hair ground as your bed.
Honestly? By the third night you had gotten used to it. It really wasn’t that bad, but it sure was different from the lifestyle you had at the Hargreeves mansion.
Sighing, you get up from your little sleeping arrangement and decide to start scouting for some food in the dumpster like you did every morning.
However, you here a very weak but familiar voice behind you as soon as you manage to get out of trash bag.
“Y/N?”
Slowly but surely, you turn around and are looking at Five Hargreeves for the first time in 6 months. For the first time in your life, you notice his eyes starting to water at the sight of you in this situation.
“Fiv-?”
You have no time to finish because he’s wrapping his arms around you so tightly as if it’s the last time he ever will. After a few moments of processing what’s happening, you finally manage to hug him back, a smile so big on your face that it hurts. But you don’t care, neither of you care.
“I missed you so much.” He whispered into the crook of your neck, feeling him smile into it.
“I missed you too.”
He lets go of you, hands still on your shoulders. Five takes a good look at your current ensemble: one shoe, a hat made of tinfoil with a ripped up sweater and leggings. His eyes shift to yours with a confused look, but it quickly turned into concern when he notices the black bruise on your left eye.
“What happened?” He asked, caressing your cheek carefully.
“Oh - it’s nothing. Just some jerks, that’s all.” You say to him like it’s no big deal - because to you, it wasn’t.
However, it was a much different story for Five.
“What jerks?”
You then explain to him your living situation for the past year, watching his face turn into deep sadness the more you go on and on. Eventually you have to stop talking completely because he looks like he’s about to cry. “Are you okay?”
He nods, wiping his tears away before answering. “Yeah, it’s just that I’m really sorry. It must have been hard and..”
“Well, not THAT hard.” You try and joke. “I get free donuts everyday. Man, people in this area do not like their food.”
Five chuckles slightly and grabs your hand. “Come on, we have an apocalypse to stop.”
You take your hand away from his, looking at him dead in the eyes.
“WHAT?”
——————————————————————————
Heyo! I hope you liked it 🥰
#tua#the umbrella academy#umbrella academy#five hargreeves#five hargreeves x reader#number five#number five x reader#five#five x reader
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lost in outer space
summary: When Odins‘ death opened up the gates to hell, Thor, Loki and you ended up stranded on a strange planet with no way home. With Hela claiming the throne of Asgard and the prophesied Ragnarok, you and your brothers were left to fight for your survival on Sakaar while trying to come up with a plan to save everything you’ve ever known. But when Thor suddenly went missing, you couldn’t take the impending doom anymore and turn to Loki for comfort.
characters: Loki, fem!reader (siblings)
warnings/synopsis: during Thor Ragnarok (spoilers), slight mentions of death/loss and trauma, slight angst, one or two swear words, it gets fluffy though. This is you being comforted by your favourite brother. Requested by the wonderful @superwhoflarrow123 Thank you again for being so understanding why this took a little longer! I really hope you like it! (roughly 1.7k words)
The walls of your room were an ugly bright booger green. A futuristic bed with sort of retro patterned orange sheets was placed next to a floor to ceiling window overlooking the landscape of Sakaar. In the distance, trash was stacked up high enough to touch the clouds, and to your feet container like looking buildings were littering the planets‘ surface like thrown out cardboard boxes. The sky was a hazy storm grey, only a handful of brightly coloured air crafts and weirdly shaped skyscrapers breaking up the murky and metallic smelling air. This definitely was one of the less pretty planets you had ever been on. Granted you weren’t here because Sakaar had been your dream destination – up until your stranding here you had never even heard o fit – but because your secret evil sister took over your home planet. Your father having a secret fourth child probably was the most normal thing that had happened to your family so far though, that he locked her up in hell less so. Now that both of your parents were gone, you didn’t intend to make amends and play happy little family with Hela. She did try to kill you and your brothers after all and you felt like that didn’t really qualify for a second chance.
You didn’t know how long you had been tumbling through space like a plastic bag, only that when you landed face down in a pile of space waste, you were alone. You didn’t know where your brothers were or frankly where you happened to be, but after wandering through the sea of garbage for a while, you learned fast that you weren’t as welcome as you had hoped. You were electro-shocked, thrown into a funky looking aircraft and shipped off into imprisonment. At least that was what you were expecting. Instead, you were met with a weird guy in gold sparkly tunics and piercing eyes and only because he decided to keep you around as leverage, you were given a room and the chance to wash up.
It could have been between a couple of days and a week, you really had no clue, time felt weird here when you were attending one of the Grandmasters‘ lavish parties and news arrived that someone else had arrived. You were equally relieved and frustrated as you watched Loki walking into the room, head held high and about a dozen armed guards trailing behind him. At least he didn’t end up on the other side of the galaxy or even worse, dead and even though you were relieved that you wouldn’t be alone in this freak show anymore you could see it on his face, that he didn’t exactly come to your rescue. You had quickly realized what the Grandmaster did with most prisoners and then had to watch him circle your brother like a hunter its prey, already expecting to have to either fight or plea for Lokis life. But only for him to smirk at Loki and then turn around to the woman next to him saying, “He’s pretty, let’s keep him.”
Thor arrived two weeks later but didn’t seem to have the same luck as Loki and you did. He was put into a cell under the gladiator arena while you two needed to keep up appearances. It was almost impossible to get a chance to speak with him. Not only because you were physically not allowed to even go near his cell, but also because when Loki used his magic to visit him he didn’t seem very cooperative. And so the two of you had no choice but to leave him to fight his way out – as usual – while you started to forge a plan.
Everything seemed to go well all things considered. Loki weaselled his way into the Grandmasters‘ trusted circle, trying to find out more about how to leave the planet, while you mentally connected with Heimdall back home. Hela was wracking havoc raising an undead army and threatening to kill everyone who got in her way and you knew you were running out of time. Knowing that at least you weren’t alone, that at least for once in many years you and your brother all were in one place was your only solace.
“What do you mean with: he’s gone?”
“Lost. Vanished. Vaporized into thin air. Nowhere to be seen.”
Mouth slightly agape with shock you couldn’t believe what Loki had just told you.
“But we had a plan!”
Your brother only shrugged and you could already feel a headache forming. Cursing under your breath you massaged your temples with your pointer fingers, trying to make sense of the situation.
“So our dear brother got lost on a planet where all the lost things end up?” you had your eyes closed, fingers still rubbing circles into your skin and trying not to freak out.
“It seems as if someone would be able to do that, it’s Thor,” Loki said.
Your eyes shot upon and you let your hands fall to your sides.
“Are you joking?” you snapped, stunned at how little concerned he seemed.
“I worked out a deal with the Grandmaster to find him, but he also put that little Valkyrie on it. We have to find him first or I’m afraid he will end up somewhere far worse than the cells,” he explained.
“I can’t believe this.” Shaking your head you let yourself plop down onto the edge of your bed.
“It’s not like he’s dead,” Loki tried to console you but it did little to calm your nerves. In fact, it only added to the anger that had been building up ever since you landed on this damn planet.
“No, Loki. I’m sure he’s not.”
You stood up again and raiseed your head to meet him at eye-level.
“But you know what? Him going missing is just the cherry on top of what I needed.”
Loki was eyeing you warily, his almost bored gaze suddenly beginning to warm up a little.
“Are you okay?” he suddenly asked with a gentle voice that almost brought you to tears.
“No! I’m not fucking okay! Our father just died, granted he wasn’t my favourite parent and he could be an asshole at times, but he was our father! And as if that wasn’t enough we find out we have a secret diabolic demon sister who is head bend on getting her revenge on someone who's already dead!” you were screaming out the last part, the absurdity of the whole situation just kicking in. Loki looked like he wanted to say something, but you weren’t finished.
“But wait, there’s more! We’re stranded on a planet we’ve never even heard of in over a thousand years of being alive and we neither have a space ship to escape nor our brother apparently, who, if I have to remind you, is the fucking heir to the fucking throne!”
You knew you were being unfair, Thor may have put the blame on Loki, but you knew, that all of you and especially your father were equally to blame. But in the end that wouldn’t help the situation so you didn’t try to start a discussion about whose fault this really was. Your chest was heaving and you felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders just getting all of this out, but you started to regret your harsh tone as soon you saw Lokis‘ face fall.
“I know,” he said and suddenly wrapped his arms around you. Loki wasn’t a big hugger so this was very new but not unwelcome.
“All of this is pure shit and I’m sorry you have to go through all of this. I’ll make it right, I promise, darling,” he said as he carefully rested his chin on top of your head. Great, now you really felt bad.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you mumbled and hid your face in the cold leather spanned over the expanse of his chest. Your voice was slightly muffled as you continued, enclosing your arms behind his back.
“It’s not your fault. It’s just too much. Thor has gone off without us, we have no real way out of here and whether it’s Hela or Ragnarok, we’re gonna lose our home. I mean, why even try at this point?”
“Don’t say that,” Loki argued, loosened the hug and held you at arm's length to look at your face, fingers slightly digging into the flesh of your upper arms. He could see the tears threatening to spill and put on a firm, but gentle face.
“We can’t give up. That’s your home Hela is invading. We can fight her. We can win.”
“How can you be so sure?” you croaked out, a salty tear finally rolling down your heated cheek. Loki smiled faintly, thumb brushing away another tear and his blue eyes full of determination.
“We always win.”
You tried to believe him, you really did but realistically, what were your chances against a whole army?
“What would you do, if you were to give up? Stay here?” Loki tried a different approach and looked around the room in disgust. Just the thought alone of staying on this garbage dump made you shiver with revulsion. A small smile tugged at his lips.
“We’re gonna find Thor, I promise. And then we’ll make right what has gone wrong and you never have to think about this place or Hela ever again, okay?”
You took a deep breath, running the back of your hand over your cheeks to dry the wet skin.
“Okay,” you then said, voice a little shaky but you were finally calming down again. Loki always had this effect on you. Even when you were kids, he would always comfort you when you were feeling angry or upset and you were glad that after everything that had happened in the last years, at least that hadn’t changed.
“Okay,” he repeated and tugged you against his chest again. Your fingers curled into the leather, just to make sure, he wouldn’t disappear too.
“Thank you, Loki,” you mumbled and closed your eyes, breathing in his familiar scent.
Lokis hands were splayed out over your back when he leaned back a little and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“I love you, my darling sister.”
And you knew, everything would be okay again. You would find Thor and then your little family would finally return home.
Together.
#loki laufeyson#mcu#thor ragnarok#tom hiddleston#marvel#marvel fandom#avengers#one shot#reader insert#request#siblings#family#odinson#hela#sakaar#angst#fluff
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