#and i would show you my paintings but they're not very interesting
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at this point I'm down to following only one tag on tumblr dot com and it's on really thin ice
#I know there's more than one post per month in the 'painting' tag tumblr#why do you feel the need to show me the exact same image every twelve posts. repeatedly. for days and days#sometimes they are good and nice paintings but sometimes (even if I appreciated them the first time) I am receiving psychic damage#I feel like there used to be some sort of 'don't show me this particular post again' thing you could click#but now it's gone?? idk I don't remember#I'd love to see posts about my interests outside of just who I follow in theory#but this feature is not working very well? and this is what they're trying to transition the site to????#lol I remember in that one post from staff a while ago#they were talking about how they were trying to make dashboard content less repetitive#implied that shifting more towards 'for you' and away from 'following' would somehow accomplish that?#just saying that the tiny taste of that I have on my following dash is...by far the most repetitive
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I can’t get this scenario out of my head with yan!batfamily in which Bruce worms his way into a depressed reader’s life by marrying their mother and slowly taking over the role of parenting reader while dealing with the depression.
No because Bruce would do that. In his head, its just another mission to "save Y/n" and sure, your mother isn't exactly his type, and your depression isn't exactly her fault- the poor woman just works day and night for you both to survive in this outrageous economy, she doesn't have had enough time to see you not doing so well mentally.
Bruce and his sons, by whatever sequence of events, are now infatuated with you. What started as concern for your well being has now turned into obsessive need to control your life to make it better. So, yeah... Bruce decides to marry your mom, who is more than happy to finally find a chivalrous, handsome man... who just happens to also be very rich.
Meanwhile, you hate him. It's stupid, but you hate how filthy rich he is and even though you know that he donates a lot to charities, you still hate him because Bruce thinks money can solve everything (and in your case, it almost can), but you can't help but feel insulted everytime he offers you a cheque, a wad of cash to pay off your bills and loans, or even a $20 bill to get yourself some snacks. It feels... abnormal. You're not a charity case.
Perhaps your socioeconomic status isn't the only reason you're depressed. Maybe it's just you missing your father (could be dead/murdered/suicide/just moved far far away).
The moment Bruce finds out that your dad is the reason why you're so depressed, oh it's "I WILL FATHER ANOTHER CHILD IN NEED OF PROFESSIONAL HELP" time. He's doubling down on his paternal instincts and he's just mentally smacking himself like "ofc you need a father figure in your life. Who better than me????"
And it just makes your skin crawl at how nonchalant Bruce is about all this- about incorporating himself into your and your mother's life. Treating you both, especially you like you're actually related. Like he's been around with you two his entire life. You lose your appetite when he stays for dinner, but you sit at the table for your mother. You try to make excuses when your mother tells you that you have to go with her at the Wayne Manor because "Bruce wants to spend a day with family". You can't help but look at your mother in wonder at how she is comfortable when you both pull up at the manor. You thought things would be easier if Bruce's sons were also uncomfortable or even hated you and your mother (or thought that your mom was a gold digger), but no, they're just as worse as Bruce. Dick being particularly the worst in the sense that he's more affectionate and his love language is physical touch, so you get squished to his chest everytime he sees you, with a small cry "my baby!" Sometimes, "sis" would be added.
You didn't like either nickname.
Then there's Jason, who is the most normal one of them all, perhaps because he isn't around much and when he is, he just makes small talk.
Tim doesn't talk much either, but he stares a lot. Somehow you feel like he knows something about you, at least more than he's letting on.
And lastly, there's Damian, that pompous little shit. You know he's being amicable for Bruce, but his eyes look at you like he's judging you- thinks you're beneath him. Which is true, in the sense of finance. Despite all of that, Damian still wants to show you off his interests/things around the manor. He's still being arrogant ofc, "Look at this oil painting- it's a Van Gogh original. Van Gogh is a famous painter- he's dead though. I'm sure you aren't familiar with his works. I can take you to the Gotham gallery to show you more paintings. Father owns it, so it can be just us two without other people bothering us." He's nice but also not nice. But at least he's not doing it intentionally.
Then there's Bruce. Who is always looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes are always analysing you, even when he's not looking at you directly, you know that he's watching your every move like a hawk. He tries spending time with you, often he succeeds, only because your mother makes you go. He's a good man, hasn't done anything exactly inappropriate, but... even something as small as making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk so that you're safe from the cars... it doesn't sit right with you. Why is he being so paternal? You certainly have been rude to him on purpose. Always giving him one word answers when he asks you how your day was.
Then one day your mother returns home with a beaming smile.
"Bruce proposed to me! We're getting married!"
After only 3 months of dating? It's what you wanted to say, but you held it back when you saw how happy she was.
The next day, Bruce held a dinner at the manor to celebrate the engagement. Surprisingly, that was the first time you saw Damian looking mad at you and your mom.
It was a reasonable reaction. Acceptable to you, instead of the overly excited yell of Dick "WE'RE GOING TO BE SIBLINGS! That means we can have slumber parties and pillow fights and-"
Your mother and Bruce were shopping for the wedding, looking at dresses and venues and all the shenanigans while you were at the manor, moving your and your mom's stuff in with the boys. It was the last thing you wanted, but your mother.... she insisted on it. Or at least that's what she says, you know Bruce insisted.
Doesn't matter because by next year, you'd be moving away to college anyways.
You just need to put up with this for a little longer and see your mother finally be happy.
You didn't expect your mother to be dead a week before the wedding.
It was out of the blue. You were sitting in the library at the manor because Dick refused to let you be alone in your room all the time, so he was making you some cookies while you read. Then he and Bruce came together, their faces pale as they looked at you.
"Y/n... your mother, she... she got in an accident."
She was driving to some restaurant, wanted to get you your favourite fried chicken and spend some time with you alone. But on her way, a truck crashed right into her car.
She died on the spot.
Whatever little improvement you had on your mental health went straight down the drain. You locked yourself in your room and just cried quietly. They left you alone the first few days, but then Bruce and Dick tried to persuade you to come out, that they were concerned for you. You did come out the day the funeral was held. And it hurt you... it hurt you so deeply when you found out they were burying her at the Wayne cemetery.
She wasn't a fucking Wayne.
If you had any strength, if you had any energy at all, you would've taken your mother and buried her someplace else.
But you didn't.
When you returned inside the manor, you went straight to your mother's room, which was also Bruce's room but you didn't care if he saw you in there or not. You just started packing all of your mother's stuff, her clothes, her jewellery, her photos, everything she came here with, which wasn't much to begin with but still.
"Y/n?" You stiffened when Bruce called you, but you didn't pause on packing. "What are you doing? Looking for something?"
You sighed. Might as well get this over with.
You turnd around, not looking him in the eye.
"I'm moving out. And I'm taking mom's stuff with me. You can check, I'm not stealing anything that belongs to you."
Bruce looked at you in confusion. "Moving out? Where are you going?"
"College. I'll be going there soon anyways, so I'm moving to an apartment with some friends."
"Oh, but you don't need to move out. You can stay with us. Youre family-" you cut him off.
"Bruce, let's not." You finally look at him. "We're not family. I never was, I never wanted to be. Mom's gone now, and I have no reason or desire to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here for as long as you have, but I will be moving out by tomorrow, if not tonight." You said picking up your mother's bag of stuff and walking out of the room. Bruce followed you to your room.
"But I don't want you to move-"
You dropped the bags. "I don't care what you want!"
Bruce looked at you with his brows furrowed. He didn't get why you were acting like this. Your yelling had gotten the attention of the boys too, all looking in confusion at the bags.
"I don't want to be a part of this family. I never have, and I never will. I never liked you or anyone in this family. And if you're concerned about me speaking to the media about you guys, don't worry. If it helps you, you can make me sign an NDA!"
Damian narrowed his eyes at you. "Dont talk to father like-"
"Shut up!" You yelled harshly. You didn't care who you were hurting. Your mother was gone, you had no reason to be amicable to them anymore.
-
They left you alone that day, and by the next morning, you were ready to leave. At 6 am, you walked down to the main door, with your bags. You weren't expecting them all to be waiting for you, but here they were. You took a step towards the door, but Dick stopped you.
He cleared his throat. "Um, this is the NDA... if you'd just sign it here." He handed you the papers.
Unbelievable. They actually drew up a contract. You took the pen from his hand and signed at the dotted lines.
"Bye." You took another step, except Damian and Tim blocked your path.
"What now?"
"Where are you going?" Tim asked.
"Do we have to go over this again?" You grumbled. "College." You answered.
"You can't." Damian said smugly. What's he smirking for?
"You're gonna break my legs?" You scoffed.
"No, you just signed a document saying that you're a part of this family, and Bruce Wayne is your guardian and has authority over all decisions concerning you like going to college, or even... going out of the house." Damian replied.
You looked at Bruce, because there's no way Damian is being serious. But there were no signs of joking. You looked at Dick, at Jason-
They were all dead serious.
"You cant- you can't be- you can't keep me here." You said.
"You signed the documents. It's your fault for not reading them." Tim said.
"Bruce-"
"I really do believe that it'd be better for you to stay here." Bruce said, taking ahold of your shoulders. "At least until you're doing better mentally."
"I'm fine-"
"I don't think so. And I could even take you to a psychiatrist, they'd agree with me." Bruce cupped your cheek as you flinched away. "You'd be happy here. I promise you that, you'll be safe and happy with us."
You'd try fighting, but you already knew you were outnumbered.
Besides, even if you weren't, even if you were alone with the smallest one of them, you still wouldn't be able to leave. You have no idea what Damian is capable of.
After all, he's the one who had your mother killed.
#yandere batfamily#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfam#yandere batman#yandere batboys#yandere bruce wayne#yandere damian wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere tim drake#yandere jason todd
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Hello Dr Tingle! I wanted to ask you about that re: your post about how all your books are serious literature (hell yeah Love is real). How do you personally deal with the whole traditional publishing institution? It attracts a whole different level of coverage and it seems that they're very quick to try and box you and like turn you into a brand. Is it stiffling? Is it freeing? Does the attention help more people understand your trot? I don't know I've never been published but since you have experience in both traditional and self publishing I'm interested in knowing how that's feeling for you
well this is a pretty complex question with lots of different trots but i will try my best to answer. lets start with WHO I AM as buckaroo name of chuck
what i create has a very strong voice and my way is pretty recognizable. while buckaroos do not know what most authors look like, i REALLY stand out in a dang crowd with a big pink bag on my head. if you see 50 random author photos and mine is mixed in and then you ask 'which photo do you remember the most?' it is probably gonna be chuck. i also have a VERY UNIQUE STORY with what i create and my artistic sensibilities, not a lot of buds are out there making trans mothman erotica along with their big five traditional publishing bestsellers (SIDENOTE preorder BURY YOUR GAYS)
now if you were going to take 'CHUCK TINGLE' to a marketing department they would FALL OVER BACKWARDS IN THEIR DANG CHAIR with excitement. it is hard to think of an author with a stronger BRAND than i already have in the sense of 'instantly recognizable trot and specific unique style'. even in answering this you can tell that i dont even TALK like other dang authors.
what i am getting at is this: i am VERY VERY LUCKY because my existence just so happens to equate to what a company would see as GOOD BRANDING. it is not intentional on my part, it is just the hand of fate i guess. im out here expressing myself in a FULL ON WAY that is PRETTY DANG STRANGE TO SOME and it just so happens to work as mainstream branding too
on paper you might think 'what the heck no way chuck tingle will fly as a mainstream trot' but honestly the main thread of this timeline can be surprising sometimes. ive been saying the key ingredient for years and i will say it again: LOVE AND SINCERITY RESONATE. when you make art with this fuel, the timeline will feel it. when you stand up tall and shout with your whole chest THIS IS MY WAY AND I LOVE MYSELF. I AM THE WORLDS GREATEST AUTHOR TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT, the timeline will listen
so all that said, i do not mind the idea of myself as 'brand' because i am not CHANGING myself to create this effect. what some might see as 'brand' i just see as another part of my art. i have always believed that art is THE WHOLE EXPERIENCE not just the painting but what is outside of the frame. WHO I AM is just as important as the books i write, and interacting with my way is a whole MULTIMEDIA experience that INCLUDES YOU TOO. it is the feeling when your friend shows you your first tingler cover, or the feeling when you realize that i am not playing a character. this is ALL a part of the tingleverse and it is all a part of my honest raw expression as a queer and neurodivergent buckaroo.
YOU ARE PART OF THIS ART TOO
it is my nature of have a PUNK ROCK trot. always has been. but to me that does not mean just angrily going against everything for the sake of going against everything. for me, this punk rock trot means fighting to EXPRESS MYSELF IN THE MOST HONEST AND PURE FORM POSSIBLE and to create the art that i want to make without any boundaries
somehow i have threaded the needle in this really interesting once-in-a-dang-lifetime kind of way. my pure punk rock self as an OUTERSIDER ARTIST just so happens to resonate with this larger system of brand and traditional publishing and popular culture. i COULD reject this, but rejecting it would be LESS HONEST.
this is just who i am. i LIKE pop culture. i LIKE joy. i LIKE dressing in all pink and wearing my custom suits. I LIKE PROVING LOVE IS REAL WHAT THE HECK ELSE EVEN IS THERE? i love being a queer outsider artist and using my small voice to shout at the big bad devils and i like that every time i shout a few more of you buckaroos join the chorus and together we are just getting louder and louder and louder and WHO KNOWS what comes next for us all trotting together.
when i post something like 'WHAT A GREAT DAY TO PROVE LOVE' it is not me sitting here in a bad mood thinkin 'well i gotta make todays post to keep up with my brand'. i am ACTUALLY FEELING THAT FEELING and i actually believe it with every fiber of my being. honestly, half the time i post about the beauty of this timeline i am probably over here literally crying tears of joy (chuck is an emotional bud i get riled over the joy of existence A LOT)
and heres the best part of this trot: because i really have this punk rock way it makes me very powerful. others can pretend not to care about success and brand and all that but I REALLY DO NO CARE. i would write tinglers whether buds were reading them or not, this is just my natural state, and that makes me incredibly strong. if some big corporation says 'YOU MUST DO THIS' and i dont want to do it i just say 'no thanks'. it is not some big debate about my career or anything like that because I REALLY DO NOT CARE IN THE SLIGHTEST. i care about the art
because of this, my relationship with my GIANT TRADITIONAL PUBLISHING MACHINE is great. we trot like equals and we get along really well. i tell them exactly what i want to do and they let me do it. i really do not have to answer to anyone and they deserve a huge amount of credit for respecting me in this way.
and heres the thing, THEY ALSO HAVE SOME GREAT IDEAS
SPECIFICALLY my imprint of NIGHTFIRE is very dang cool. yes, they are the head of a giant hydra of a BIG FIVE PUBLISHER, but nightfire is SO DANG ART-FOCUSED
there is no right or wrong way to be an artist, and my path is not the only one, but i can tell you what WORKS FOR ME. this is the advice i would give myself, and buckaroos can take it or leave it
here it is: never beg the big book publisher, or record label, or movie studio to pay attention to you
do not let it become a lotto ticket in your brain. do not think that you are some weak little creature and maybe if you trot just right they will scoop you up and take care of you. do not go to their door begging to be let in
LET THEM COME TO YOUR DOOR
create something so incredible and beautiful and honest and powerful and unique and important that they would be foolish to miss out. create a community or a system or a timeline or a world of imagination that thrives on its own and THEY SHOULD BE SO LUCKY TO BE A PART OF IT
then when you sit down at that board meeting it is not 'please brand me, ill do whatever you want'. instead, it is 'lets make a deal and see how much love we can prove together.'
now lets trot buckaroos
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Hii since requests are open May I ask if you could write something for yan! Nanami with very scared reader who's just straight up terrified of him and the situation they're in they always hide when they hear him come home shake and shiver whenever he touches then and even vomit from all that stress and fear? If no that's completely okay and feel free to ignore this, thanks a bunch and have a great night/day I love your writing!<33
Sure!! I wrote this, hope it's ok! Also, I will get to the other requests as well, but I had eye surgery a few days ago so it's slow-going. Don't worry though, no-one will be forgotten.
Yandere!Nanami x TouchAvoidant!Reader
~Nanami comes home. You aren't happy~
CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Nanami. Forced contact but nothing NSFW.
WC: 934
REQS are open. At the top of my page you can see who/what I write for. The more specific your requests the better! :)
Buy me a coffee?
.-.-.
The room that he put you in when he had to leave could only be described as scared to impose. Soft cream walls stared at you from every angle, and an impossibly plush carpet rested beneath your socked feet. Baby blues and minty greens made up the few colors, and they were things like pillows and blankets all of impossible quality. Minky couture and goose down pillows had become your new normal, strewn across the ground and whatever sparse furniture there was, yet nothing else decorated the space. There were no lamps, no paintings, no furniture that wasn’t carefully and thoroughly bolted down; nothing could be used as a weapon. Even the window was welded shut, made of polycarbonate that was impossible to break. You would know, as you’d tried multiple times.
It was a room carefully constructed, a room not meant to impose on the delicate sensibilities of the one in it. It held the same air as a therapist’s office. Or a padded cell.
You shifted, sinking deeper into your chair. Idly you thumbed through your book, but nothing in it caught your interest. You had finished reading it hours ago, but you were too shy to ask him for another, and instead simply left your finished reads on his table to show that you were done. The light shining through your window was turning a burnished gold. It was getting late, which meant soon he would be home. You felt a churning in your stomach at the thought, and gripped your book tighter in your hands, listening to the pages crinkle.
You jumped when you heard the rumble of a car’s engine pull into the drive, then the damning sound of a door opening and closing. Forgotten, the book fell from your hands, hitting the floor. You grabbed a pillow, soft and fluffy, and held it to your chest, trying to create some sort of barrier between you and what was coming.
All too soon, he was there. From across the room you locked eyes, yet before you could say anything he started moving towards you. Your muscles jumped, and it took all you had not to run. It wouldn’t work, you’d already tried.
“How was your day?” Nanami asked as he loosened his tie.
“Fine,” you murmured, casting your eyes down and staring at his feet. When a hand touched your shoulder, you winced, jerking back into the chair as if you tried hard enough you’d bury yourself into it and disappear.
Above you, Nanami sighed. Slowly, he knelt before you, placing himself between your legs and staring up at you in a way that made your skin itch. A large hand wrapped around your calf, unyielding. It didn’t hurt, but you knew it would be impossible to break out of his hold.
“We’ve talked about this,” he murmured. A calloused thumb stroked over the skin of your leg.
You shifted restlessly. “I know.” When his other hand wrapped around your calf, it took all you had not to scream. To anyone else it probably would have felt nice, witht the way he had started to massage it, but it was all you could do to hold in a scream. Instead you brought your legs in, folding them criss-cross beneath your body.
“Most people would love a massage after a long day,” Nanami said.
“Most people aren’t kidnappers,” you snapped back.
Nanami hummed. “I suppose our circumstances are unique.” And then he ran his knuckles across your cheek.
Your skin went electric and you flinched, flailing and trying to jump from the chair. Before you could touch the carpet, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist. You froze, and your expression could have been enough to bring any onlookers to tears. The arms shifted, lifting you, squeezing you to his chest.
“Please, Nanami,” you whispered. “Please let me go.”
“Shh,” the man murmured, pressing a kiss against your brow. To you, it felt like a brand.
“Let me go,” you pleaded.
You started to struggle, and though you knew it was a fruitless action, there was nothing left for you to do. Twisting, you writhed in his arms like a snake, but it only made things worse. He held you closer to him, enough that you could feel it when he breathed, and when your shirt rode up your torso from struggling, his large, calloused hand found its way to your naked skin, fingers trailing across it. He made his way to the bed, sitting on its edge with you still in his hold.
“Stop it!” you shouted, pounding your fists against his chest. “I said stop!”
“Listen to me,” Nanami said. He was raising his voice, not out of anger, but in an effort to make himself heard. He wrapped one arm around your torso, holding your arms down, while the other went to your face, turning you to look in his eyes. “Listen to me, dear. The only reason I do this is out of my love for you. Can’t you see that?”
“This isn’t love,” you snarled, angry tears building in your eyes. “You’re delusional!”
“Shh,” Nanami crooned. He pressed his lips to your temple. “I know you don’t like it, but we’re going to stay here until you calm down. One day you’ll understand.”
You kicked uselessly at him, but it only made Nanami hook a leg over yours, pinning you. You sniffled, and felt the first tears coursing down your face. Nanami only held you closer, and started rocking back and forth, a motion that would have been soothing in any other context.
#jjk imagines#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujustu kaisen x reader#yandere#yandere jjk#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere nanami x reader#yandere nanami#yandere nanami kento#nanami x you#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nanami x reader
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papaya nails and everything nice | op81
hi! i dont really know how to comment on that one, i just get this idea from few videos where oscar actually admitted that he has very interesting relationship with his nails
anyway, is this original? i think it is. is this wholesome? hell yes, we do be supportin in this household. enjoy!
summary: oscar is having an unusual problem but it's nothing a manicure cant fix
warnings: none, i hope that painted nails on a boy arent a trigger
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!mclarendriver (ft. lando)
Oscar had been struggling to get himself together for some time now. As far back as he could remember, he considered himself as organized and put-together person who kept everything in check. However, for the past few weeks he had been the complete opposite—nothing seemed to go his way, he was incredibly scattered, sleeping poorly and was always last-minute everywhere.
This day was no exception to the rule that had persistently dominated Piastri's life for the past few weeks. Hurrying, he entered the garage running late and quickly started changing, not wanting to delay the start of training. His hair was messy, clearly having just detached from the pillow a few moments ago. Y/N observed her friend from the corner of her eye, seeing him struggle with unzipping his jumpsuit. Without hesitation, she approached him and eased his suffering, helping him with the zipper.
"Thanks," he mumbled, throwing a fleeting glance at his friend. Only then did Y/N noticed that Oscar's face was marked by several red streaks.
"Something happened?" she asked, clearly concerned. The recent strange behavior of Oscar had not escaped anyone on the team and she was no exception.
"I overslept, nothing new lately," Piastri casually replied, putting on the jumpsuit and fastening it around his neck. He brushed his hair off his face and only now did Y/N have a full view of his face, where red stripes were visible on his even paler-than-usual skin.
"Yes, that too, but that's not what I meant," she said.
Y/N took her phone and showed him his reflection. He furrowed his brows in surprise but took the phone from her and looked at his face. It was a fact, there were strange red marks on it. After a moment, he figured out why he looked like so this morning.
"They're probably scratches; I must have done them in my sleep."
"Scratches?" she scrunched her eyebrows and involuntarily glanced at his nails when he handed her the phone. Indeed, Oscar's nails could make many girls envious.
Y/N still had something to ask, but she was called to take her place in the car. She didn't have the chance to exchange a single word with Oscar until lunchtime. The couple sat in the cafeteria and as Y/N was familiar with both the old Oscar, whom she had known for several years and the slowly emerging new Oscar, she had never paid much attention to his hands or, more importantly, his nails.
"Has this happened to you before?" Y/N asked when they were both eating lunch and Oscar focused all his attention on what she assumed was his first eagerly awaited meal of the day.
"That I took two portions of rice with vegetables for lunch?" he asked with his mouth full, glancing at her in the meantime "No, honestly, this is my debut."
She rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not asking about that. I mean, have you ever looked like you've just met Wolverine?"
"Still have those marks?"
Y/N nodded in response as she continued eating.
Oscar sighed, swallowing what was in his mouth and wondering whether to tell her about the embarrassing nonsense that had haunted him for as long as he could remember. Seeing her curious gaze he decided to confess to her an unusual fact about himself.
"I can't cut my nails."
Oscar threw this statement into the air without much ado. Honestly, at this point in his life where he was and with all the things happening, most of which didn't go the way they should, thinking about things like his unfortunate nails would be total foolishness.
"Oh, really?" she was surprised, but it was the kind of surprise when you hear some fun fact you didn't know before.
"You reacted like I just told you that there are twice as many kangaroos as people in Australia."
"It's quite an unusual thing, you're probably the first person I know who can't do it."
"I don't know if it's something to feel special about, although probably yes since for the rest of the day, I look like I do."
Oscar replied, pointing to his scratched face.
"What's worse," he continued, not interrupting his eating, "Even when I manage to deal with them, it takes a moment and they look the same again. They grow terribly fast."
"If you want, I can help you with them," she offered, glancing at him.
Oscar hesitated for a moment and after that he looked at her uncertainly.
"Could you?"
"Of course!"
Shortly afterward, Y/N's hotel room turned into improvised nail salon. She took her task very seriously, pleased that Oscar allowed her to do anything extra such as cutting his cuticles or giving his hands a massage with a cookie-scented cream.
"You have nice nails," he said when she massaged his hands. Her nails had short square shapes with a matte finish. The color was no surprise; it was papaya orange. "Do PR people dip their fingers in this too?"
Y/N laughed and shook her head.
"No, I just noticed this nail polish in the drugstore and I thought I'd take it. It amused me that this color haunts me everywhere."
"Do you do your nails yourself?" Oscar looked at her with a slight shock. "It must be terribly hard and time-consuming."
"I've been doing them for a few years now and as you can see they are pretty simple, so with each time I get better at it."
She replied, taking a bit more cream. She noticed that he was silently looking at her hands; it seemed that he was particularly paying attention to her nails.
"I can paint yours too if you want."
"Mine?"
Y/N nodded and Oscar looked at her, shocked by how effortlessly she seemed to read his thoughts.
"Painted nails aren't for boys. "
Y/N rolled her eyes.
"Anyone can have painted nails, Oscar."
"Zac would be pissed at me. PR people probably too."
"Fuck Zac, fuck PR people," she looked him in the eyes. "Everyone has the right to look how they want, so if Lewis can have earrings and tattoos, Alex could have red hair, then you or any other guy can have painted nails."
Oscar hesitated for a while, looking at her uncertainly. He was silent for a moment, thinking hard. However, he decided that it was time to finally do something contrary to the norm. He has stuck to the rules and regulations all his life, so it's time to make a small concession that won't harm anyone.
"Can you make them for me with a shiny finish?"
Y/N smiled and nodded, hurriedly getting off the bed and grabbing her bag with all the supplies. The smile on Oscar's face appeared with each painted nail, pushing away his fears and insecurities.
When the girl started finishing his other hand after more than an hour, Lando came into the bedroom without any warning, complaining about his friends and the fact that none of them had replied to any of his messages for over forty minutes.
When Norris noticed what he was witnessing, he opened his mouth in shock and his eyes almost fell out of his sockets. Both Oscar and Y/N knew their friend's unfiltered chatter, so they mentally prepared themselves for some comment from him. But beside that, he hurriedly took off his shoes and all excited sat on the bed, rolling up his sleeves.
"Oh my God! Will you do mine too?"
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Alastor + apprentice!child!reader
A/n: this is some practice to get a footing in his character. (Also slight practice on husk as well.)
Reader is kinda scary but means well overall
Not proofread
Y/n ever elusive. Alastor would randomly mention your name in conversations. References your rampages and your sweetness in the same breath. But when anyone would try to quiz him on you further he would act like he didn't know what they were talking about. He might try to claim it's for privacy but it's pretty obvious he just likes messing with hotel members.
Charlie was especially sad that she might never get to meet you. If Alastor was to be believed you seemed really sweet! (And easy to rehabilitate *cough* *cough*) Also cool! You seemed to be an absolute powerhouse. After Al mentioned you Charlie got somewhat mopey. Until he mentioned you visiting the hotel, which piqued everyone's interest.
When you finally showed up, people's interest was at an all-time high. But now it was because the fabled y/n was a child. "It's a pleasure to be meeting everyone!" You were looking at Alastor but were speaking to the whole room. "I've heard so much about all of you!"
"They've also heard much about you too, dearie." Alastor bent at the waist down to your level. "You've become quite the hot topic here!"
As if to prove his point Charlie picked you up and spun you around almost hitting Alastor in the face. He glared at her but remained calm. "Welcome, welcome! Do you want to choose a room to stay in?"
"Sorry, but I'm not planning to stay."
"I know but just for the time being." Charlie clarified. To that, you nodded. Husk snapped his head toward The Radio Demon once both you and Charlie had left.
"Did you really stoop low enough to make a deal with a child?" He was just barely containing his anger. While he didn't particularly care for those he didn't know at least somewhat personally, taking a child's soul was a place he drew a thick line.
"Why of course not!" He said sounding offended but clearly, it was to mock Husk. "They are under my guidance purely by choice!" Vaggie and Husk both said some version of 'you're a liar' in unison. Alastor simply tsked as he walked away.
Niffty seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "Was thas thay y/n?"
After the crew (excluding Husk) let out a yelp, Vaggie spoke, "Yep."
Niffty let out a villain-esque laugh, though that was just her usual laugh, "I've been meaning to talk to them since they scared off a group of bad boys~" She flashed her sharp teeth and held a knife. Angel grabbed the knife and her before she could get very far.
Back with you and Charlie Alastor materialized next to you and you waved at him.
"Hello, sir!" You saluted him as a joke.
"Hello to you too! Have you found a room?" You nodded and entered said room. Charlie looked at him, her face painted with a confused yet kind look.
"They're the one who hurt so many people? Are you kidding? They are so nice."
"You've never seen them in danger." Suddenly as if on queue an explosion was heard. You shot up from your surprisingly comfortable bed and ran downstairs. Pushing both Charlie and Alastor out of the way while also throwing a quick ‘sorry’ their way.
Once you got downstairs the bad boys that Niffty mentioned earlier were spouting something about you. Once they looked at you they pulled weapons out. You grew and your arms turned pitch black with a slight claw shape. With your new size, you were just big enough to grab them to the point of almost cracking bones. Almost.
"Leave." You said with a deep booming voice that came with the size. You threw them and they scrambled. Once they were gone you shrunk back down to your normal size. Niffty pouted and stamped her foot.
Once you turned everyone had varying looks of shock on their face except Niffty and of course, Alastor who was instead proud. "Congrats dear! Would you like some jambalaya?" You nodded.
As you were walking with him Husk grabbed your shoulder, "Um good job kid... If he ever offers you a deal, don't take it." He felt obliged to warn you. If Alastor's moral code was against recruiting kids, he probably would have pounced on the opportunity to take your soul once you were an adult.
You smiled, "I know I know. But what could I even gain out of any deal with him?" You laughed and walked back to Alastor. Huh. Well, you certainly were being tutored by Alastor.
A/n: Y/n got kinda of edgy at the end-
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Creep Yan meets the sweet angel that is Clown Darling-
It was an accident. They swear it to their grave.
A left instead of a right somewhere down the twisting, spacious corridors of the convention center. They could've sworn they followed the receptionist's directions down to the letter, but playing back her voice in their head they're starting to believe she just made up whatever she could to get them to leave. What should have led them to the hall holding the annual concert for their favorite idol group had in actuality brought them to a another venue with an entirely different type of star.
The clown's smiling face was plastered on every wall. Children and young adults of all ages walked in hand with their guardians wearing the same face paint or best imitation of the entertainers outfit they could readily obtain. There were others closer to their age, but none as out of their element as them. Collectors exchanging priceless goods: bonding over favorite moments from what sounds to be a show. Is this what they're like with people who share the same interests? When they're apart of the crowd it feels normal, but how could a kid's show have such an effect on grown adults? They feel like such an outcast - and they know others know they are too. They can hear the words behind every stare throw at them.
"What are they doing in here...."
"Creeps like that are exactly what it's difficult to bring kids to public events."
"Freak."
They stumble through the booths, searching desperately for the exit they lost sight of shortly before realizing where they were. Tears obscure their vision as they collapse next to a row of chairs left out for guests. The concert had to have started by now and at this raise they'll never make it before the doors close. They finally had the chance to see their favorite group in person and now it was gone. Why did they ever think the universe would give them a opportunity for better after an eternity of hell. At this rate it would be better to just go home....
Hic....hic...
Soft cries bellow from the body sitting next to them. They wipe at their eyes with a striped handkerchief, careful not to smudge their face paint. From their mismatch shoes to their brightly colored clothes it was easy to pin them as another cosplayer, but there was something more... authentic about their wear. They cry silently into their hands without spilling a tear.
"Are....are you okay?"
The clown looks up at them, sighing heavily. "Oh, I'm alright. I'm just sad because you're sad. I've seen so many happy faces today and you're the first I've seen upset. It's enough to bring a tear to anyone's eye."
They tighten grip the strap of their bag. "I... can go somewhere else..."
"No, no!" The clown bounces to their feet and takes their hands - startling them. "I'm not saying that because I want you to go away. I'm saying that because I want to make you feel better, silly! Why don't we start with you telling me what's wrong?"
"It's nothing.... You don't want to hear about stuff like that it's depressing."
"Hm... can I at least try to make you happier?"
"You can try..."
"Great! Repeat after me."
The clown clears their throat as they kneel.
"When I'm feeling lonely, or think I just might frown. I think think a thought that means a lot and then I feel less down.
The clown's smile reaches the painted circles on their cheeks. "Its the song I teach all my new friends. Now you try!"
"When I'm feeling lonely...."
"Or think I just might frown."
"I think a thought that means a lot."
"And then I feel less down." The clown squeals as they clap they hands together. "Yay! You did it! And very well if I may add. How do you feel now?"
They pause for a moment, lips moist as they think about their mother's chocolate cake. There's still a slice left in their fridge. "A little better...."
"Now, tell me a thought that makes you feel better."
"Well... I really like listening to music...." Their smile is gone as soon as it came. "I actually came to see a concert today, but I got lost...."
"Concert? You mean like those sweet girls next door? Haha, you can hear them right through the walls? I guess it is difficult with all the screaming kids. Come on, I'll take you!"
They place their ear against the wall. Sure enough, music and the roars of the crowd blare through the structure. They cup their hands around their ears to hear better and decipher if their favorite song has already played - yanked from their seat before they can properly make out a single note.
"Come on, Come on!"
The clown giggles, clutching their hand as they skip and excuse their way through the crowd - promising younger guests their full attention upon their return with a quick hug and a free sticker. It's all the time the person they drag with them has to recuperate before being pulled along again.
"Wait... please... I can't...."
"We're here!"
Catching their breath, they look up to see the still open doors of the concert hall as people pour in and out. The bouncers stop a few of them to inform them of the doors' closing in five minutes. They made it... They actually made it... Tears of happiness catch in their lashes, sweeped away by a striped cloth.
"Are you still sad? I know you missed the opening act, there's still more..."
"No... These are happy tears... Thank you.. Thank you!"
The clown's laughter reaches the deepest depths their heart. "Anything for a friend! Come see me again if you're ever in any trouble..... Oh! I almost forgot something!"
The clown reaches into their pocket and pulls out a small, plastic badge. They pass it over to their new friend who inspects the smiling rainbow and letters engraved into it.
"Y/n the clown's helper of the day."
"That's a little token I give to the best of my little helpers..." The clown lends in, covering their mouth with one hand as they whisper. "Don't tell the kids - I give one to everybody."
They reach into their bag, grabbing their wallet. The clown quickly stops them.
"It's free, Silly! If you wanna pay me back, just have a good time, okay?"
The clown winks before walking off back to their hall - but not before passing out stickers to the bouncers who thank them for it and the water bottles they brought earlier. The dumbfounded individual they leave behind looks down at their hand - then the open doors of the concert hall. They sheepishly reenter the venue they came from, approaching the first merch with physical discs they see.
"Hello, I'd like to buy a copy of all available seasons you have."
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere insert#yandere oc#yandere#yandere blurb#clown reader#yandere drabble
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Mutual Help | #16
𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung
↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k+
⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢
When the very anticipated notification comes in the form of a message saying 'I'm here', you wish you could be enthusiastic about it like yesterday when you went to sleep. Unfortunately, that was before you realized waking up at five in the morning is extremely tough. Especially for the person like you, and someone who went to sleep late even when your best friend was kind enough to remind you to go to sleep early.
Well, you were always known for going to sleep late and Jungkook seemed not to forget about that.
Stumbling out of your apartment building, you see him walking out of his car with a huge grin, probably finding your current appearance more than amusing.
"Good morning, baby. Ready for some adventure?" he jokes, wiggling his brows as he goes to hug you and places a single kiss on your temple.
"Morning." you grumble under your breath, poking him in the rib when he keeps teasing you with his doe eyes.
"God, I forgot what an early bird you are," he laughs, scrunching his nose in the process of his nonstop teasing. "Here let me take your bags." he says, reaching for the two travel bags you packed yesterday.
"Thanks." you murmur, following him to his new car.
Black Mercedes that he finally bought after speaking and dreaming about it for at least two years. You'll never forget the happy grin he had when he came to pick you up in his new car, showing you all the functions it has even though you barely understood half of what he was saying.
"Fuck, how much stuff did you pack?" he complains, opening the truck where he places your two bags next to his one.
"Just necessary stuff." you inform him, causing him to scoff in response. You notice the dark green camera bag in the truck and it sparks your interest. "Did you bring your camera?"
"Of course," he says, closing it shut as he walks to the driver side while you do the same, walking on the other side to the passenger side. "I gotta catch those memories." he says over the roof, making sure you see his sparkling eyes.
For the first time in the morning, you smile back before you make yourself comfortable in the seat, setting it into a more lying position.
"Who are we picking up?" you ask, silently admiring how silent the engine is when he turns it on and drives out of a parking lot.
The navigation already starts to give him directions, while he heads towards the main road. He looks cozy, especially in one of his black oversized hoodies and black cargo pants. You're not surprised by the choice of his outfit, especially the color. It's six in the morning and even though it's the middle of July, it's still chilly in the mornings. You're wearing one of your purple hoodies as well, matching it with some old leggings that won't be missed if you rip them.
"Jimin was supposed to take his car but it's too small to fit the rest of the gang. So they're going with Hoseok's friend's car and we're picking up some girls, plus Taehyung."
You shouldn't be surprised by the information that there are more girls coming on this camping trip. Jungkook told you that Hoseok's friends are going as well, but still, you're quite surprised by it. So far, there is no mention of Kiko and her possible attendance.
"Would you mind if I close my eyes for a few minutes?" you ask him, fumbling with your eyes as he picks up the speed.
The sky is painted light blue while there's sunrise around the corner. It creates a calm and nice view, especially when you're still tired.
"Not at all," he tells you, turning off the radio that's softly playing in the background. "You should rest till you can. Once Taehyung is here, there won't be any time to rest." he chuckles, leaving you giggling knowing he's more than right about that.
"Oh my god, I love this song!" Taehyung shouts excitedly, singing his heart out along with Harry Styles' voice booming out of Jungkook's car speakers.
Laughing, you shake your head at your friend who sounds really good but is still too loud, especially when you barely got any sleep. The ride to get Taehyung wasn't that long, it took about fifteen minutes to pick him up and he hasn't shut up since then.
Five minutes later, you picked up Hoseok's friends in front of some apartment building. When Jungkook got out of the car, he helped to load their bags into the truck as he introduced himself to them. You could barely hear their conversation but when they got into the car, sitting next to Taehyung, they introduced themselves.
Minjae and Seulgi. They both look like they're your age, while Minjae's hair is black and short and Seulgi has a high strawberry blond ponytail that frames her face.
And here you are.
They seem like nice girls, very communicative and they both warmed up to all of you quickly, despite the fact that they barely know you. It confirms your thoughts when Minjae speaks up, reacting to Taehyung singing his heart out at Harry Styles' song.
"Let me tell you, Harry Styles is so fuckable!" She comments with so much enthusiasm that it makes you and Jungkook laugh, her friend reacting by exclaiming her name in disbelief. But Minjae just shrugs her shoulders innocently and looks at her friend. "Don't tell me you wouldn't fuck him, if you could."
"I'm not saying that, but--"
"See?" she interrupts her friend, causing Seulgi to let out a groan which makes you laugh even more.
What you don't expect is Minjae, who's sitting behind you, leaning forward as she plops her head between your and Jungkook's seat. "What about you, Y/N? Wouldn't you fuck him?" she asks, wiggling her brows as you shake your head at her, a huge grin settled on your lips.
Glancing at Jungkook, he stares at the road but gives you a quick glance of curiosity before he turns his eyes back to the road. With even Taehyung finally shutting up, everyone stays quiet while they wait for your answer and it makes you mentally groan at their damn curiosity. But well, at least you can be honest when they ask.
"Fuck yeah." you answer, causing Minjae to squeal in triumph.
"Yah! Since when?" Jungkook speaks up, glancing at you for a brief moment and giving you a good glimpse of his furrowed brows.
"I don't know, he's pretty hot. Have you seen him?" you shrug innocently, smirking when Jungkook glares at you. Reaching for a water bottle beside your legs, the one Jungkook bought you, you take a gulp.
"He's not that hot." he grumbles, toning out the voices of Minjae in the back while she asks Taehyung something.
All you can hear is Taehyung's response. "They're dating."
You and Jungkook don't react, both pretending to be busy with driving and staring out of the window and admiring the trees. But you still hear Seulgi whisper a little 'wasn't he dating Kiko?' and a little gasp she lets out when Minjae nudges her shoulder and silently tells her to shut up.
Great, so they know her too.
When Jungkook told you the location of your camping trip is near a lake, you don't expect such a breathtaking view. You knew there'd be a lot of green around you, but you don't expect such an open space as you drive into the resort. The area is secured with a fence, which makes everything much safer and you don't have to worry about possible bears giving you a goodnight, which Jungkook reacted with a laugh telling you there are no bears when you shared your worries. The gateman that opens the gate for you is an older man, giving you a cheerful greeting and briefly explaining to you there's a nearby building where's the bathroom and little shop in case you might be needing or missing something. It's definitely different than you expected it to be, it's even better.
Everyone in the car shares your enthusiasm while Jungkook follows Jimin's directions he has sent him through voice message and drives through the road. Even when he parks beside white Hyundai, your mouth is agape and eyes focused on the beauty around you. There's a lake just a few meters away from you, with a spacious meadow with nearby trees and bright sky above your heads. You can notice a few people already unpacking a lot of stuff, including Jimin who's holding two unrecognizable packages of something with a frown on his face. His eyes briefly turn towards Jungkook's car and the frown disappears as he waves with the packages still in his hands. You wave back, laughing at his cuteness while you undo the seatbelt and wait for Jungkook to turn the engine off. As soon as he does that, you're getting out of the car just to be met with Jimin's crushing hug he gives you.
"You guys made it!" he exclaims happily, hugging you tighter before he pulls you away.
Smiling at him, you're reminded of how he likes spending his free time with friends. "Of course, we did." you grin, hearing the rest of them getting out of the car.
Jimin hugs Jungkook and Taehyung while he excitedly asks them about your ride and how amazing this place is. Well, you definitely agree with that. You notice Taehyung introducing Minjae and Seulgi to him, causing him to give them a polite wave which is a lot less affectionate than the hug he gave you. But you're all close, so it makes sense.
"Hey everyone!" Someone calls and you turn around, seeing Hoseok waving at all of you.
A round of greetings resounds from the group and you as well, hoping there won't be any negative memories with Hoseok. You know he apologized and he seems to be happy to see all of you, and you hope it could stay this way. When he smiles at you and urges everyone to follow him, he explains everything they've done so far.
"We've got four tents in total. We started to build it but the only one who seems to know how to do it, is Jimin so far," he chuckles, "But we need someone strong to bring wood for the fireplace from that building," he explains, pointing far away at the building. "Jungkook?" he asks, causing the younger male to nod as he gives him thumbs up.
"Great, Namjoon's going with you." he tells you, and your brows frown for a moment before you realize you don't remember anyone named Namjoon. It must be Hoseok's friend Jungkook mentioned.
Just as your curiosity starts working, a blond male appears while dusting his black sweatpants before he looks up and sees all of you. "Oh, hi." he smiles, waving at everyone while a cute dimple pokes out of his cheek and you almost squeal.
He's cute. He's wearing a black cap with some white shirt that's already dirty from the soil.
"Hey, Joon!" Minjae greets him, while Seulgi joins her and waves at their friend while they go to greet Hoseok and Namjoon with a hug.
"Joon, you already know Jungkook," Hoseok says, causing him to nod while he grins at your best friend. "This is Taehyung and Y/N." he introduces you and Namjoon waves at the both of you again, smiling at you while you do the same.
"It's nice to meet you." you smile at him.
"Likewise," he grins, "How was the ride?" he asks, eyeing everyone.
"Cool, we enjoyed the view so much!" Minjae answers.
Just as Jimin calls Taehyung to help him build a tent, while Hoseok starts to give instructions to Jungkook and how he can help, you don't notice another person coming along this trip. How could you, not until the person suddenly comes in the view holding a few packages of what seems like a marshmallow.
"Hey everyone!" she calls, but even you can tell she's trying to sound too cheerful at the sight of everyone being finally here.
Automatically, your eyes go to Jungkook who spots her and recognizes her voice immediately, his own widening at the sight of his ex-girlfriend.
"I brought these ones instead of the blue ones." she explains, her eyes shifting to Hoseok who nods.
"That's fine! These ones are better anyway," he waves, causing her to nod as she places the packages at the top of some plastic box.
Hoseok goes back to talking to Jungkook who nods understandably, but you know he's just trying not stare at Kiko who occupies herself with helping Minjae and Seulgi, trying to build a tent by themselves.
"Y/N, right?" You hear a few meters away from you, Namjoon glancing at you with the same friendly smile. You nod, smiling back at him politely. "Can you help me with this one?" he asks, trying to figure out which part of the tent is right.
"I don't think I'll be much help, but I can try." you joke, already walking towards him.
"That makes two of us." he jokes back, causing you to giggle.
Maybe this camping trip won't be as tense as you expected it to be. It's definitely awkward seeing Kiko here as well, but everyone seems to be cool and chill about the fact two exes are about to spend their weekend together.
But are you and Jungkook going to be?
#networkbangtan#ksmutclub#ficswithluv#btswritingcafe#bts smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#bts angst#bts fluff#bts au#jungkook fic#personasintro
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This is a one chapter update because this chapter was 25 years long and I don't want my post to be also that long, even though you're all being super nice about it (thank you ♥).
previously, in harroweena the ninth:
this happened
now, chapter 6:
harrowbean wakes up and is taken somewhere in a wheelchair
we get no sleep in this ship
we get no face paint, no black robes, no sleep, no security from people who wanna suffocate you in your sleep, no explanations
lyctors need a union
as in unionization, not as in a combination of people, that they did when slurping their cavaliers
the person carrying her is very upset at everyone
turns out, she's a lyctor
her name is mercysomething
we have an ortus 2, a mercysomething and an augustine
harrow mentions eyes again and says that Lyctors "kept their own faces, but the eyes they stole from someone else. You had been lucky that your own transition was not as startling"
Lucky, you say...
I don't know about that
anyway, this mercysomething is supposed to be the saint of joy
I'm assuming lyctors are given their names through the ancient art of sarcasm
on that note
harrow: "if you had not of late become the Saint of Emesis"
me: wait, I gotta look something up real quick
me: yeah, that's funny
mercysomething is angry and in a hurry
a bunch of time is spent with mercysomething being angry and treating people like crap and being unpleasant
she's arguing with everyone she comes across and takes harrow to a hangar
yandere twin is sitting on a crate watching a necromancer make a ward with blood and bleeding to death in the process
harrow sits next to her and they are like sportscasters of blood-painted wards
according to the necrocasters, it's a ghost ward
yandere twin updates harrow on the fact that they're at war and they've been attacked and they're down to three Old Lyctors and two Baby Lyctors
it would explain why mercysomething is upset all the time
mercysomething wants to take the emperor somewhere else and the guy commanding the ship doesn't want to let him leave
emperor guy comes in and kind of does this to mercysomething
yandere twin and I are LIVING for all this pute/salseo/gossip/however you wanna call it
harrow isn't as interested
I complained in gideon because gideon wasn't interested in things I wanted to look into and now I'm gonna complain about harrow not being interested in Drama
emperor the fool says: "I know exactly who is behind this terrible blow, and they were fools to show their hand"
yandere twin and I
when emperor guy sees the necromancer bleeding out he goes "for fuck's sake"
it's a quote, not me being funny ha ha
remember when I said this guy is a mess?
that's becoming exponentially more evident
I want to punch him in the face at all times
I don't know how people can be respectful to this dude
the reason there isn't any face paint for harrow in this ship is that the emperor uses it every morning to paint on his clown face
they've been alive like 1000 years or whatnot and they're all a fucking group project going off the rails
so emperor guy, mercysomething, not!dulcinea (now in a coffin package), yandere twin and harrow get in a ship inside the ship
a smaller ship inside the big ship where the emperor has been for the past bunch of years
the small ship has the blood ward for the ghosts
but, before going in, emperor the fool fixes the necro that's bleeding to death
I honestly think she would have preferred to just die
which, same, if he was my boss
necros also need to unionize
cavaliers more than anyone tbh
if cavaliers unionized, idk if there would be any lyctors
emperor guy and mercysomething argue about people they know and we don't yet know
and mercysomething was telling harrow previously that the former ninth was prettier than her (anastasia, heart don't fail me now, courage don't desert me) and telling yandere twin the former third was prettier than her (cyrus? cyril? something like that)
which, absolutely juvenile behavior for someone who's like a 1000+ years of age or whatever
why would we care who she finds prettier????
ANYWAY, throughout this I was once again thinking
nobody here has G & P initials
it's been driving me mad this whole time
gideon and harrow found that former lyctor quarters
and it said "ONE FLESH, ONE END. G. & P."
that was before the note with gideon's name in it was read
and all this time I was thinking those were a set of necro-cav from the previous lyctors
but nobody here has those initials
the only P is the cavalier of Ortus 2 and there's no G
which is DRIVING ME MAD
if the G is the previous Gideon, the one not!dulcinea mentioned, it would explain why there was a note that mentioned a Gideon in the quarters
it would not, however, explain who the fuck that other gideon is, who P is and why they aren't in the list with the other combos
augustine is a former fifth because his cav's last name is quinque
mercysomething's from the eighth because her cav's last name is oct, and because she's annoying to be around
ortus 2 is from the second, because his cav's last name is dve
cyril cyrus whatev is from the third because the cav is trinit and mercysomething mentioned him to yandere twin, who is from the third
ulysses is from the fourth because the cav is tetra
not!dulcinea is seventh because the cav was heptane and because it was a very important thing in the previous book, as we've established
anastasia (dancing bears, painted wings) is from the ninth because the cav is novenary and she was mentioned to harrow
cassiopeia must be sixth, because it's what I have left, but I don't recognize the root of the last name to make a clear parallel from the top of my head
the emperor's guardian is A.L.
I'm taking note of an emperor's guardian who isn't around anymore
could it be ice cube barbie???? idk fam, she's looking at him a lot
giving me magic knight rayearth vibes again
this but with backstabbing instead of love
ANYWAY, all of this to point out that there's no G & P and it's driving me up the wall
now, to a very important thing
VERY IMPORTANT
for me, maybe it's just me
the enemies or whatever are called "remnants" and their leader apparently has been gone for "nearly 20 years"
this is me desperately making timelines with gideon's mom and gideon's birth and the 2 details I know about gideon's mom and her birth
you know what, I'm gonna quote, since I went to fetch it
"One day eighteen years ago, Gideon's mother had tumbled down the middle of the shaft in the drag chute and a battered hazard suit, like some moth drifting slowly down into the dark. The suit had been out of power for a couple of minutes. The woman landed brain-dead. All the battery power had been sucked away by a bio-container plugged into the suit, the kind you'd carry a transplant limb in, and inside that container was Gideon, only a day old."
I'm gonna just...put a pin on that that in the cork board
I don't know you guys, I'm just gonna
let me pin that
I'm probably being wrong a lot more than what I'm getting right but I'm just telling you what goes through my mind, if I'm making a fool of myself, it's too late to act like I'm not a fool
I am also putting my clown paint on like the emperor
MOVING ON
harrow thinks the emperor talks in plural about her at one point and idk if that's the case tbh
we then get emperor guy explaining how they need to go to their safe space base with a name I can't remember
a fancy name very lord-of-the-rings-y
let's call it emperor's mojo dojo casa house
and to get there as quick as they need to, they have to cut through the River
the one with the ghosties and ghoulies
that's what the ward was for
if they went through regular means, it'd take too long and, doing it this way, they could be there super fast, but they need to get in the River and come out the other way in the right spot
and intact
so it's this situation
so, in order to do that, they have to hold on to their souls and their cav souls and whatever they've got using the skills from the first test
I want to point out, once again, WHO PLANNED CANAAN HOUSE AS A TOOL TO GET LYCTORS TO LEARN THINGS?????
THEY WERE NOT DOING ALL THE TESTS
THEY WERE FIGHTING FOR THE KEYS
SOME DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THERE WERE TESTS TO BEGIN WITH
JUDITH WAS LIVING IN LAW AND ORDER
we didn't even get to all the tests, people started dropping like flies
because the emperor had one loose lyctor who thought she was in a telenovela
ANYWAY
the point is, if they drift too far while crossing the River, something else can come into their bodies
we did learn that, because it happened to duracell bunny nephew back in canaan house
but we learned it because mayonnaise uncle thought he was tough shit and ruined it, not because of the tests
harrow, doing her best, thinks "you felt alone in your head"
WHICH IS GREAT for our gideon notes
also, no camilla mention or appearance in this one
(I'm having a lizzie bennet theme going on for Reasons for the time being)
so, we're leaving harrow and yandere twin trying to learn for the first time how to not die by crossing the River because the emperor plans things terribly and mercysomething is too preoccupied being upset at everything all the time
#luly reacts to tlt#harrow the ninth#harrow the ninth spoilers#tlt spoilers#the locked tomb#long post#gif cw
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Okay, so my experience with Stranger Things is a weird one.
I didn't care when it first came out, started to watch it out of "might as well" in 2020, wasn't interested in it enough to make it past S2, forgot about it outside of going "oh, hey, cool, there's a lesbian in it now, I guess," in S3, got really annoyed when "Running Up That Hill" got popular from it because it was a song I listened to on fucking loop after one of my best friends died in high school and I fully expected its appearance in the show to ignore the whole survivor's guilt theme of the song (and was very happy to learn later that it did the exact opposite of ignoring the lyrics), saw people drawing Eddie, suddenly got a lot more interested, watched just the fourth season like a fucking psychopath because I was seriously only there for Eddie, then got interested enough to start the show over properly, having mostly forgotten what I did watch of the show before.
And let me tell you something from the perspective of someone who started with the complete fourth season, who wasn't there from the start, who wasn't tainted by ship goggles or this internal battle of hope and despair, who wasn't theorizing about what the painting could be or expecting Mike and Will to kiss when Volume 2 happened or rooting for Mike and Eleven's relationship to go down in flames or whatever the fuck. Just someone who went blind into Season 4.
It's really fucking obvious that Will and Mike are gonna be endgame.
Like holy fuck. It's so fucking blatant I don't even know why people are nervous.
No sane fucking person would shoot this scene this way if they wanted the audience to care about El and Mike as a couple. Despite being all blurry in the background, Will's reaction to what's happening here is smackdab in the fucking middle, clearly showing that the important part is what's going through his head here. What he's feeling. It's like the opposite of that scene from Kingdom Hearts II where Sora and Riku reunite and Kairi just fucking vanishes into the aether while it's happening because, despite the fact that she was standing between them when the scene began, she doesn't matter to the scene, so she's just kind of gone when the camera angle changes. Will could have been behind one of their heads, or so far in the distance he blends in with the background, but he's not. He's so obvious that despite being massively blurred out, he's still the first goddamn thing you look at. What, you think that's an accident? You think he's in the middle of this dramatic fucking scene because of a mistake? He basically has a big flashing neon arrow pointing at him with "THIS IS THE POINT" being screamed through a megaphone.
And then this?
They're paired up like they're taking fucking prom pictures. Each one of these pairs is so fucking close to one another and so fucking far from everyone else. It's not, "Oh, they're standing vaguely near each other in a group shot," it's fucking Noah's Ark out here. Again, there's no way to take this as an accident. It's not just a framing issue. If they wanted to make the shot look balanced while still not hiding anyone else behind El, they would have scattered people around much more naturally. Even if they wanted to keep Nancy with Jonathan and Hopper with Joyce, there's so much room on that hill for three people to stand on El's left and three on her right. But they didn't do that. They put Mike and Will together on purpose in the most obvious way possible.
Like I get that coming up with crackpot theories is fun in and of itself and I'm not blaming anyone for having fun. I totally get the appeal of arguing a point and reaching for every stupid little thing to pull into it because it's like a game, okay? I've done that. But if you're trying to actually convince someone (whether it's someone who wants to believe or someone who's pissed at the very idea that Mike and Will could be in love), stay away from blue and yellow lights, stay away from costume design, stay away from the existence of closets in backgrounds. And don't worry about whether Mike's gay or bi when he's in love with Will either way. I'll give you a little tip about persuasion: You're only as strong as your weakest argument. Even if you've got strong stuff in there, too, the person you're trying to convince is going to dismiss anything you say as complete insanity the second you start going on an entire tangent about the shape of a character's fucking pocket.
Sometimes, clothes are just clothes. Sometimes, there's a closet in the background because it helps establish that a character is in a bedroom. Sometimes, blue and yellow are just a couple of colors that look nice together. And sure, it might be set designers and costume designers and cinematographers smirking and winking at the audience from behind the camera. But if the show was just those things, instead of those things in the context of everything else, they wouldn't be saying anything of note.
But this?
This tells a story all on its own. Someone with no context can look at this and automatically assume that each paired person is standing with someone they care about deeply, seeking comfort as they watch some sort of disaster unfold. And yeah, romantic couples usually come in twos, and we live in an amatonormative society, so that's going to be the first association anyone makes seeing a bunch of people paired off.
It's the same reason you look at this
And go, "Oh..."
"Those two are probably a couple."
And I genuinely don't understand how people could have watched S4 Vol. 2 and gotten scared. Because as someone who went in with no investment whatsoever, I just looked at these two--
--and went, "Oh, those two are a couple. Good for them." And I moved on. Shut up about the trees for five seconds and just see the forest for what it is.
Oh, and if you're still nervous? Little thing from a storyteller here: You don't leave a hanging thread like "Will confessed his romantic feelings for Mike by projecting them onto El, but Mike either didn't understand or at least didn't say he understood," without coming back to that later. That's Chekov's gun hanging on the wall, babes. It's gonna fire at some point. If Mike was going to reject Will's feelings, if they weren't relevant, they would have had that discussion in Argyle's van. There'd be no reason to leave you in suspense.
#byler#meta#stranger things#theory#I mean I fucking guess#in the same way gravity is a fuckin' theory.#It feels silly that I even have to say this honestly.#Watching people freak out over these two feels like I'm being pranked.#Like you guys aren't pulling a Goncharov are you? Just making believe there's any chance these two aren't gonna be endgame?#Like completely ironically? And I'm too autistic to catch it?#It genuinely feels like I'm explaining that red and blue make purple here. As if you guys should have learned this in kindergarten.#Or like watching whole-ass adults watch Cinderella for the first time and being on the edge of their seat#wondering if she's going to live happily ever after with the prince or not.#It feels like I'm talking DOWN to people and I don't WANT it to feel like that but it's so obvious and I don't want people to be like#anxious for no reason you know?#Like I get that we're all scarred from queerbaiting and I know you guys are biased from years of shipping these kids.#But like. These guys? The most obvious 'there's only one way this could go' couple I've ever seen? You're scared about THEM?
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Pulp Covers And How To Paint Them
With the rise of cheap printing in the early twentieth century, mass-marked paperbacks swept the world, each offering lurid thrills for obscenely low prices. Sex, sadism, and incredible violence for as little as ten cents. An easy purchase to slot in between fifty cigarettes a day and enough bourbon slugs to kill a small garden.
Pulp fiction is where some of the greats of American literature cut their teeth, including the big three, Raymond Chandler, Ross MacDonald and Dashiell Hammett. The contents of these stories, both the dizzyingly good and astoundingly terrible, have been absorbed and digested and remixed and regurgitated in nearly every permutation imaginable, fuelling pop culture some one hundred years on. This isn't an essay on that. Nobody likes to open a tutorial and be greeted with a wall of text. The history is for another time.
But it is about how to paint it.
Don't let the pre-amble intimidate you, it's not as hard as it sounds. You will need:
Painting software with some image editing capabilities. You don't need all the bells and whistles of Photoshop, but I wouldn't recommend something like MSPaint, at least not to start with. I'm using Clip Studio Paint.
A really beat-up paper texture. The grungier, the better.
A lightly-textured brush. Here are the specific brushes I use, 99% of which is the well-named rough brush. Try and avoid anything with any impasto elements.
Go to your colour-picking tool and use the 'select from layer' option. Doing all the painting on a single layer is going to make your life easier.
A complete willingness to make mistakes and, instead of erasing, painting over them. It generates much more colour variation and interest! Keep your finger off the E key.
Good reference! That painting is a master copy of Mitchel Hooks' art for Day of the Ram. Find a style you really love and want to learn? Have no clue where to begin? Do direct studies!
Let's not worry about whatever is happening in the background. It's probably fine. Let's get started! Pulp magazine art is a lot more varied than you might first think, so don't agonize over having a style that 'fits' or not. I'm also specifically aiming for something you'd see on the cover after printing, not the initial painting they would use for printing. The stuff I'll show here is a pretty narrow band of it, but here are some general commonalities. This is a painting by Tom Lovell.
Let's dig into this.
The colours are very bright and saturated, but the actual values, the relative lightness and darkness of them, are actually grouped very simply! You can check this by filling a layer full of black, putting it on top and setting its mode to colour. If the value of a painting looks good, you actually get a lot of leeway with colour. But here's what I think is the most important thing to keep in mind.
The darks aren't that dark, and the lights aren't all that light! Covers are paintings reproduced on cheap paper. Anything you wouldn't want to happen in the printing process, you lean into. Value wash-outs, lower contrast, colours getting a weird wash to them, really gritty texturing. So let's get painting! Here's my typical setup.
That bottom folder is the painting itself. The screen layer is the grungy paper texture. To get the effect you want, put it down, invert its colour, then set it to screen. That washes out your painting far, far too much, so to compensate, I put a contrast layer up on top. Fiddle around with the settings, but this is where mine ended up sitting.
Note I'm saying this before even starting the painting: you want to do this as early as possible. This is where the 'select from layer' colour picker comes in handy. You can paint without worrying about the screen or contrast layer. Something not looking right? Enable your value check layer and keep painting. When you turn it off, it'll still be in colour. Here's a timelapse so you can see what that looks like.
And when you check the values...
They're pretty simple! This isn't a be all and end all, but I hope it serves as a decent primer. I want thirty dames on my desk by Monday!
#rochedotpng#art tutorial#art resources#couldn't find a thing online about this style so here's how i do it#pulp#it's how i did the death shroud one more or less
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pick a pile: future spouse's version
#002: your love story with them
𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬? 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞/𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 (𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝)
cards: 1-3 (left to right!)
pile 1
◜break my heart◞
they had sad experiences in the past, they don't believe much in love. they really want to feel a genuine love, someone they really trust and trust them too. something reciprocal. a genuine love. someone they want to build dreams with and have a family with. feeling happiness with someone for the first time. feel a golden love that doesn't hurt. that just heals. someone they can show all their faces to, no secrets, no fears. they don't want to have a broken heart, they're tired. but with you... it seems different.. they would endure anything for you, even a broken heart, 1 or 100,000 times. they will deposit all the love in the world on you. show how to be truly loved and how to be cherished. something you never had much of in childhood.. especially with your family. you two will find yourself in each other. only you two exist in the world and that's all that matters.
pile 2
◜hopeless romantic◞
they don't look for love, they think it's kind of silly. why do people need one person for life? what's the point of loving someone if in the end they're going to hurt you? yes, love hurts. is very. then why? why do people submit to this? this is kinda silly. according to them..you are the opposite, someone who truly believes in true love and wants to live with the love of your life. build a family (whether it's animals or not) and make gifts by hand, send cute messages... there are so many things, right?! you really dream about it. well, im warning you now... they are very picky when they want to be, and apparently you were the lucky winner.. whether that's a good or bad thing we're yet to find out! it seems that everything they questioned before, now makes a little sense.. having your heart beating.. wanting to be with you always and giving you gifts.. wait, all of a sudden they are giving you flowers (?), yeah. everything that didn't make sense before couldn't make more sense than it did then. they would do anything for you, just to see you happy. apparently their love language is quality time and gifts! painting pictures, watching movies or just running around. this will become routine after you meet them!
wow, that was long... sorry :D
pile 3
◜years of love◞
for some it will be love at first sight. taking them breath away. strong beats. for others.. it will be something that will unfold little by little, time will take care of everything, don't worry. they will really like you. for the first time you will think something like "okay they are nice", and what else?? anything ?? apparently yes.. ok they won't give up even though you're interested in someone else and they have to put up with you talking about them and blah blah blah. when will this end? but what can they say to you? after all, you're just friends.. (not that they want to be just friends, but you won't cooperate..) everyone has noticed but you. it feels like a slow dance that never ends. until something big happens one night and it TOTALLY changes your view of them. oh my god, sometimes drinks are a blessing. (or your confessions) you will work out, shyness. after all, you never thought of them that way. who knew it would lead you to the love of your life? they've always been there and always will be. they know it and so do you. oh how many nights they texted their friends telling them about you and having daydreams. i swear!
well... you will be alright. trust fate! and at night too 🌟
hey!! thanks for reading <3 let me know what you guys think!! sending love 🎀
☆ this reading was done by me. all rights reserved to starhwart. all images were taken from pinterest.
#free intuitive readings#free love reading#love reading#future spouse reading#future spouse#pick a pile reading#pick a pile#pick a card reading#tarot reading
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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
Trigger Warnings; bad writing, lovesick behavior, reader is called 'my girl' multiple times, reader is described as more 'curvy' (in LoveSick!Bimbo's specifically), fluffy, nothing too bad.
If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡
Hey, I'm sorry I've been so absent recently, but that's just because of personal issues. And I'd also like to say that I'm not going to be the most active writer on the app, sooo um sorry 'bout that. I'm just not very motivated to really do anything, so yeah. I hope ya'll enjoy :)))
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𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝘼𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚
All of the Above. Any way he can show you affection, he will. Nothing is holding him back from hugging you, kissing you, or holding your hand. He has no fear. I mean, what are you going to do? Push him away? Yeah, right. And this is when his ego gets in the way. He can't comprehend why you wouldn't want to touch him, besides, he wants to touch you! He wants to love you, hold you, and protect you! Why wouldn't you want that?
He also enjoys buying you things. Whether it be a fancy dress, some makeup, paint, hell, it can even be a football or something! He doesn't judge (though he'd prefer you to be pliant, little you, someone he can protect). If you need something, whether it be for classes, a hobby, or anything of the sort, he'll pay for it! First date? Nope, don't even reach into your bag; he's got you! Want a coffee/tea/etc.? Babe, I better not see your card out right now. Who do you think I am? A bum? I take care of my girl.
He likes spending time with you, too. You're practically his best friend, after all! He likes to bring you to his practices, and games, wanting you to watch him. The majority of the time, whenever you're there, he'll purposefully show off, wanting you to know that he's husband material! He can protect you and your future children, don't worry! Just let him take care of you!
But he'll also come to any events you're a part of. Say you do theater, he's coming to every performance, the same if you do any performing art. If you do a sport (he'd be ecstatic btw), then he's coming to your practices, teaching different tips and tricks, and most importantly, he's giving you a "good luck kiss" (as he likes to call them). And if you're an artist or some sort, then he'll offer to be a model for you. He's not afraid to strip if it's for you. No matter how far you two are in the relationship, there's no hesitation in his voice when he looks at you, snarkily saying, C'mon sweets, paint me like I'm one of your French girls, yeah?
His affection doesn't stop there. I've dabbled in this concept before, but LoveSick!Athlete also loves to call you nicknames, and they're never-ending. He'll think of a new one for you every day! Honestly, it's interesting to see what he'll think of next. He has a wide variety and they span from how pretty you are, to your ass, and back to your sweet personality!
𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙋𝙤𝙚𝙩
Gift Giving. LoveSick!Poet is far too nervous to talk to you. He'd shit himself if he ever called you something sweet like 'baby' or 'sweetheart', he thinks that his heart would implode. That's far too much for him. You're too much for him, too good to him, so he resorts to giving, giving, giving. He'll sneak you little poems he made about you, all flustered when you compliment his writing, how good he is. He'll get you a bouquet of flowers, all purple lilacs. LoveSick!Poet will go down to the nearest bakery, your favorite bakery, and leave you a small box of conchas, a sticky note stuck to the top of the box. It read 'I love your dress today, it looks beautiful on you :)'. He's so sweet, isn't he?
Quality Time. Similar to gift giving, it's a way for him to be affectionate without facing you. LoveSick!Poet doesn't have the best image of himself, finding your relationship with him to be a miracle, something to be worshiped, and admired. You want to go to the mall? Okay, he's on his way. Want to go out to eat? Where? When? He'll be there, but bare with him. He's not the most well-off man in New York, money's tight, right? And don't get him wrong, he feels bad. He'll constantly tell you so, going on about how he really wants to take care of you. And I'm sorry that I can't take you to the East Side, and we're stuck at the small cafe... I want to treat you, you really deserve the best, d-darling...
He just enjoys your presence overall, so any time he spends with you is a good time for him. LoveSick!Poet doesn't mind just sitting in silence, watching you do what you love. If you work at a cafe, restaurant, or anything of the sort, he'll show up to your work and just watch you do your thing. Depending on how you take his constant staring, he'll ask you for your number or how you're doing. He'll order something and have some, albeit awkward, small talk with you, wanting to know that you're doing well.
𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝘽𝙞𝙢𝙗𝙤
Physical Affection. LoveSick!Bimbo is very, very, very affectionate with most people, but it's doubled whenever she's around you. Honestly, she can't help herself. She has to be touching you at some point. She just finds you to be so adorable! She wants to show her appreciation for you and your body! Of course, she'll always let you cop a feel, if you want.
She wants to have a hand on your thigh, intertwine your fingers, and even hug you. She'll always have her chest pressed against your arm, not matter you height. And believe me, she's a tall girl, but she doesn't seem to mind the stares you get from men and some women.
Verbal Affection. Not only is she physically affectionate, but she's also very sweet with her words. No matter what time of day it is, or where she is, she'll always be calling you some sweet name. She likes to compliment you and your body, making sure you're never feeling insecure. After all, she can't have her darling feeling bad about themselves when they look like that! You're always beautiful and she'll make sure you know it. She can't help but let compliments slip out, saying how your body is just so perfect! You're literally like my missing puzzle piece, babes! Like what would I do without ya' curves!!
𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙
Verbal Affection. Now, she's not complimenting you constantly (like LoveSick!Athlete and LoveSick!Bimbo), but she does give you affirmations. If you did well on a test, then she'll tell you how you're so smart. I'm just so lucky I got stuck with a sweet girl like you. You make me so proud.
She'll never hold back saying 'I love you', nope, never. She's very caring in that sense, seeing as you've been friends for so long. She knows what you like, after watching you and your exes interact. LoveSick!Friend isn't afraid to pat your head and kiss you on the cheek, but it's not her go-to, y'know? So she always falls back on giving you assurance, that way you'll never doubt yourself. You're doing so great, babe. Just keep doing what you're doing, I'm here to help.
Acts of Service. LoveSick!Friend washes the dishes, does the laundry, and cooks the dinners. If you're ever feeling under the weather, then she'll become your little servant, always at your beck and call. She just wants you to be taken care of. She wants you to know that she's always going to be there for you, and you don't need some man to be here. All you need is her, so you should just delete that dating app, no?
𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩
Verbal Affection. LoveSick!Artist is sweet with his words, knowing just what to say to get you all flustered and embarrassed. His voice is deep, soft, and comforting. He'll give you reassurance and soft words, speaking softly to you. He doesn't call you pet names too often, though he'll sometimes pull out 'sweets' or 'baby' if he's feeling extra nice that day. Most of the time, he prefers to use your name, finding it to be comforting. He likes your name, pleased by how the syllables roll off his tongue. It's the name for you, he prefers that you use his given name, instead of 'babe' or 'bubba'. It makes him feel closer to you and he'll tell you that. He'll go on about how, y'know, you're voice is real sweet, just prefer hearin' ya' say my name all the time. Makes a guy all giddy inside.
Gift giving. He likes to draw you, a lot. Whenever you pop into his mind, which is every waking second, he'll draw you, having to express his thoughts somehow. Sometimes, he'll have you right in front of him, modeling for him.
He likes to give you these drawings, well, only the PG ones. After all, he doesn't think you'd be able to handle it, getting too flustered and overwhelmed by how detailed he can get. But that's not the point, the point is that he likes to draw you, and for you. He draws the world around him and then gives it to you, wanting to share his talent with you. And you're always excited about it, enjoying your boy/friend's (depending on the timeline) talent.
Quality Time. Listen, LoveSick!Artist is very monotone, preferring to be calm, and by himself. He doesn't like parties, being in big groups, or loud music. He just wants to be with his close friends, you. It doesn't have to be a shared activity, where the two of you are talking. Actually, he prefers to do his own thing, and you do yours, just the both of you enjoying each other's presence. He'll be painting and you'll be doing homework, cleaning, reading, writing, whatever. He doesn't care too much.
It's like that one friend, the one where you can not talk for months and months, but when you two reunite, you're acting as if nothing changed. That's exactly how he treats your relationship. He doesn't need to be with you 24/7, if anything, he prefers to have some alone time.
Now, for this last part, I'm not too sure what category this would be under, but LoveSick!Artist is quite built, meaning he works out a lot. He's very strong. And he gives off scary dog privileges, much to your content. He enjoys protecting you, holding you close, and making sure no man is giving you any funny looks.
I think that may be described as physical affection, but it still doesn't feel right to me. LoveSick!Artist isn't necessarily the most touchy person, seeing as he likes to keep to himself, but that won't stop him from getting possessive. He's very, very, very aggressive towards other men, especially when you're involved. He already doesn't trust men, but when he sees the way they look at you, it causes him to spiral. Out of all my LoveSick!Characters, I think that LoveSick!Artist is the most likely to kill in your name. C'mon don't be like that, did ya' see how he was looking at you? Like a piece of meat, is what.
#𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙥𝙤𝙚𝙩#𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡'𝙨 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨#𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚#𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙#𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙗𝙞𝙢𝙗𝙤#lovesick!poet x reader#bad writing#lovesick#yandere oc#yandere oc x you#yandere male#yandere x reader#yandere x you#x reader#obsessive love#yan blog#wlw#fluffy#fluff headcanons#i'm so sorry guys#𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩
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hiii
can i please request a wonka x fem!reader (timothee’s version)?
like maybe reader is a worker at the market or something so willy sees her everyday on his way to work and they’re friends and he keeps trying to make the perfect chocolate to give to her but he’s a very awkwardly hilarious at flirting?
thank you!! i love your writing sm
Thanks so much! This one was fun to write 😝😝😝
Willy Wonka x Fem!Store owner!Reader(Wonka 2023)
A/n: Requests are open 🤸🤸🤸🤸
It was a lovely Friday morning. The sun was shining, the skies were clear, and people were out on the streets, ready to start their days.
One of those people seemed a bit more enthusiastic than everyone else.
The infamous Willy Wonka made his way through the streets holding a box, walking like he was a man on a mission.
And he was on a mission. A mission to win the heart of the prettiest girl he knew, Y/n.
Y/n owned a little shop that he walked by everyday on the way to his factory and she sold the most interesting items! Intricately carved, tiny wooden statues, colorful glass bottles, quilts, jewelry, old dolls, and paintings. You name it, she had it laying around somewhere.
Willy visited her shop everyday. Partly because he liked the things she sold and partly because he'd developed a massive crush on her.
And after careful calculation, a lot of trial and error, and almost chickening out like 8 separate times, he was doing it.
He was shooting his shot.
He took a deep breath before stepping into her shop, acting like this was a normal day for him. "Hey, Y/n!" Willy greeted as he walked to the counter she stood behind.
"Morning, Willy." She gave him that small smile that always made him want to swoon and leaned forward on her elbows. "How's it going?"
"Good. Good. It's going good..." He should probably say something else. "How are you?"
"Good. Glad to see my favorite customer."
He couldn't help but smile at that. "Um... I have something for you."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." Willy slid a box across the counter to her.
She picked up the box and admired it. Willy had intentionally chosen to put her gift in a colorful box. She liked things like that.
Y/n opened the box to see a large variety of chocolate, all different shapes and colors, and all delicious looking.
"Oh! These look amazing!" She beamed at him.
"Well, I'd certainly hope so." Willy said with a smile. "I stayed up all night making them.
She paused. "Really?"
"Yes."
"That's- Wow. You didn't have to do that."
"Well, I did." He shrugged. "And I don't regret it."
She chuckled and looked back down at the chocolates. "Is there a reason you're giving these to me?"
Willy thought for a moment. This would probably be a good time to tell her how he felt. A simple "Because I like you" would work. But, his mind and body were suddenly not working, so instead of doing that, he stared at her.
...
"Willy?"
"Yes! Yes. They're because.. I just wanted to show that I appreciate what you do."
"What I do?"
"Yes."
"You spent all night making me chocolate because I run a general store?"
He paused. "... Yes?"
Y/n chuckled. "Well, that's really nice of you." She popped one of the chocolates into her mouth and was visibly satisfied with the taste. "Amazing, as always."
He blushed at the compliment. "Only the best for you." He replied after a split second of hesitation.
Y/n looked away and he swore he saw a light blush dust her cheeks.
That's good, right? Yeah. That's good.
"Um..." She cleared her throat. "That's nice. Thank you. You should probably be off to work now, right?"
"Uh..." He really didn't want to leave yet. "I was thinking I could stay here a little longer. If you're not busy?" He hadn't been this nervous about asking something in a long time. The second it took for her to reply felt like the longest moment of his life.
"I'd like some company." She said with a sweet smile.
Willy ended up staying there the whole morning. She made him coffee and he drank it, despite the fact that he didn't like coffee. But, he was too nervous to make another move.
He began to leave her shop, a bit disheartened by his failed attempt when Y/n stopped him.
"Willy?" She smiled, a slightly nervous smile. "Do you wanna... Like.... Get dinner tonight?"
His cheeks flushed, his eyes widened, and his heart began to race. "Really?"
She nodded.
"Just the two of us?"
"Just the two of us."
He beamed at her. "I would love that."
Looking back on it, Willy was glad she made the first move. Who knows how much longer it would've taken him?
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"There's just something about that guy that means I don't trust him"
Okay so, Phil has got the wrong read of Sunny. I'm gonna start off with that. He thinks they're a confident unconcerned material girl who is comfortable in the fact that their dad loves them, and potentially he thinks that they're a bit older than they are? Whereas people who have been able to see her one-on-one with Tubbo know that she's quite a bit more shy and insecure and young than she puts on! He's been taken in by the facade they're putting on, and I think that's part of why he is making jokes and comments that don't hit well. To understate how yesterday went.
I think he botched the interaction with Sunny in the musuem and I hope someone tells him that, so he can apologize and fix that. And to be clear, as a phil viewer, this does interesting character work with Sunny as a sensitive child and I'm in favour of Sunnymin pursuing this line of lore. I'm staring with my little cube guy watching googles looking for the result when Phil realizes he scared a child, with great interest.
Because when you look at the musum one in context, my read is that was phil pivoting badly from an out of lore discussion into "oh hey I can explain something to sunny, who is confident and centred and knows her dad adores her" and then jokingly tried to explain the tallulah experience, and then we know from Sunny signs later that that went over like a ton of bricks. Mistake.
However, when we're discussing it, I think it's fair to not have that understanding of the lore though, and to take a more pointed, villainous read of the lore! Go for it with discussing phil as cold and brusque to people who aren't his family, discuss Sunny feeling all alone in the musuem, fill your boots.
But guys, when you're discussing this as meta, I am seeing a lot of tags that are really really eager to paint Phil entirely and unequivocally as a villain and specifically cruel to children and cruel within the family, and there's an element to that that concerns me.
Phil, the cc, the guy, acts working class. He has an accent from a particular part of england that is traditionally working class, but he also has storytelling cadences and humour styles and attitudes towards challenges that are very familiar if you are from a working class or lower income community. I'm from an entirely different continuent, but the area I'm from is the sort of area that people make jokes about, and the whole way Phil acts as a CC is very familiar to me. (Note: even when he's talking about travel or stuff, he still has the "worked retail for a decade" mentality and pays attention to the staff and stuff and what they're doing, check out the brazil storytelling vod.)
And Phil's cubito, when he's not deliberately making a character like osmp crowfather, tends to have the mannerisms of someone who is working class. Even if you're not from a lower income area, I think most people can clock this, subconciously if nothing else. He swears a lot! He banters and roasts his friends and family but would absolutely do anything for them. He's informal in a very specific way.
Which is why when people pivot immediately into "why is he threatening and bullying children again" and "his wicked is showing", and "oh he's a evil stepfather/cruel stepmother" and "can we kill the child abusers now" I go Oh No.
Working class mannerisms are already stereotyped as especially prone to domestic abuse, among other ills. If you are going "oh something about him just always seemed like he would be cruel to children" maybe— push back on that one?
In the same way that during the election I was going "that may not be the play" about americans who didn't know what it was but something about Forever was just so angry and agressive (and they were talking from a perspective that viewed forever as a person of colour, regardless of how he's perceived at home), you might be talking from a perspective that encourages you to interpret Phil's behaviour with children as especially suspect. Potentially. Consider it.
And again, Phil biffed it in the musuem. That was a misstep that had me (autistic) going "oh no I see how you got there but you can all but see the sims negative relationship marker thing pop up". But I'd ask you at least to consider that it wasn't intentional cruelty, and that people can make social missteps before you jump immediately to interpreting their actions in the worst light possible.
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Addams Family Steddie Seven
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | ao3 (this part hasn't been added to ao3, yet, but I'll do it when I get the energy for tags lol)
Anyway, I'm back with another Addams Family for y'all fhdjsk
We now get Steddie children! I added little picrews of them at the very end, too! I just think they're little guys (affectionate) ^_^
Anyway, he's a big boi this time too, so you definitely don't see any typos no matter what you think
Dustin
"It's haunted?!"
Steve grins a little as he lets Dart dash into the house before shutting the door behind them. Dart only pauses by Dustin long enough to get a pat on the head before rushing off to explore. "Yep," Steve says, messing up Dustin's hair and meeting Eddie's gaze as a door bangs in the distance.
"Are you sure that's safe? What if it goes, like, full poltergeist on us?" Dustin asks, looking up at them suspiciously.
"I wish he'd go full poltergeist. I couldn't summon one for the life of me," Eddie says, sighing and shaking his head. "There's nothing like blood dripping down the walls to make a place feel like home."
"Okay, this?" Dustin says, gesturing to Eddie with raised eyebrows as he looks at Steve. "This is not making me feel better about the ghost."
Steve snorts and shakes his head, removing his hand from Dustin's hair. "Don't listen to Eddie. Blood is too hard to get off the walls and would mess up the paint. Anyway, Casper lives in the tower, and he likes D&D, so you can include him in sessions and stuff."
Dustin's face does this weird twisting thing as he tries to process the fact a ghost lives in their house and that it likes D&D enough for that to be a significant feature of its personality. He looks up at Steve, squinting slightly. "Like the friendly ghost?" he asks.
"He thinks it's ironic," Steve and Eddie say, perfectly in sync, and Dustin's disgusted expression nearly makes Steve dissolve into laughter.
"You're disgusting," Dustin tells them, rolling his eyes as he picks up one of his suitcases. "Just show me to my room before you start making out."
Steve snorts and leads Dustin upstairs, pointing out the living room, kitchen, D&D room, and guest rooms along the way. He has to grab Dustin's arm to keep him from veering straight into the D&D room, shooting him a look as they head up the stairs. "You can check it out later," he promises.
"I'll give you the grand tour," Eddie says, trailing behind them with a box of Dustin's computer stuff in his arms. "But first, check out the room. Stevie's been dying to know what it looks like."
"I haven't been dying," Steve says, looking over his shoulder to wink at Eddie as he continues, "You'd know when I'm dying, babe."
"C'mon!" Dustin shouts, ducking away from Steve and running up the last few steps. "Stop making everything a weird flirting thing."
"We're in love, Dustin," Eddie tells him, coming to a stop at the top of the stairs next to Steve. "It's only gonna get worse from here."
"I'm moving out. Don't even bother putting the stuff in my room. I'll go live with Mike, instead."
"At least see the room before you do," Steve says, gesturing to the door with Dustin's name on it.
Dustin rolls his eyes and marches over to the door. He throws it open, clearly expecting to see nothing of interest, only to freeze in the doorway, his eyes widening. "Woah," he whispers.
"I knew he'd love it," Eddie says, pulling Steve over so he can see the room is well.
It's at least twice the size of Dustin's old room. There's a loft bed with a desk and lamp under it against the wall to the right of the door. The opposite wall is covered in tools and random parts and wires, all placed carefully on hooks or shelves with a large table underneath. A pair of safety goggles is hung on a nail right above the table, with a little sign next to them that reads in all caps "WEAR THESE!"
Steve almost makes out with Eddie in the doorway of the room for that alone.
The wall with the window has been turned into a cozy area with bookshelves and posters of fantasy maps and cryptid anatomy. A telescope is set up next to the window, which has a clear view of the sky. In fact, it's one of the only windows that isn't blocked by trees from the cemetery. Two oversized chairs are set into a semicircle with beanbags, creating plenty of space for Dustin's friends to come sit and hang out.
"So, you like it?" Eddie asks, setting the computer box on the desk under the bed.
Dustin nods as he drops his bag, rushing over to the work table so he can inspect the tools hanging over it. "This is fucking awesome! Everything I need to make a lich animatronic is here!" he shouts, his excitement so great that he completely misses the equally excited flicker of the lights in the room.
"Language," Steve scolds, more on reflex than anything else.
"Yeah, yeah," Dustin says, waving his hand dismissively as he reaches out and pulls one of the wire bundles down from the wall. "I take back everything I said, by the way, be as gross as you want. I don't even care anymore."
Before Steve can tease Dustin, he's grabbed around the waist by Eddie. "With pleasure," Eddie purrs, dipping Steve and kissing him breathless just inside Dustin's room.
Steve can't help laughing into the kiss, inadvertently letting Eddie's tongue slip past his lips. And then he doesn't really care about laughing, too consumed by Eddie and his hands and his tongue and his teeth and Eddie.
He does, however, start laughing so hard that Eddie almost drops him when Dustin turns around and screeches like a banshee.
Belladonna
Eddie brings their first child home on a wonderfully dreadful day. The sky is unleashing a torrential downpour on the world, lightning cracks and thunder rolls through the clouds, and wind howls across the street. Perfect weather for a Saturday, really.
Steve was ready to spend the first half of the day in the kitchen, trying out recipes Wayne and Grandmama had given him while Dustin sat at the island to finish his homework. In the second half of the day, he'd sit at the piano outside his and Eddie's room and play while Dustin watched TV or worked on the lich animatronic in his room or fine-tuned a new character in the D&D room.
Eddie would be gone for most of the day, trying his level best to get struck by lightning. He's yet to succeed, but that just means Steve gets to cheer him up when he gets home. And the new song he's working on will do just that, especially when he tells Eddie it's composed from the lyrics Eddie wrote in that journal he gave Steve before they started dating.
Yeah, that will definitely cheer Eddie up, and Steve should probably tell Dustin to just order Chinese for dinner because he doubts they'll be leaving the bedroom after that.
The thought makes Steve grin as he pulls out an apple and nightshade pie from the oven, the cloying scent spreading through the room and making Dustin crinkle his nose. He hasn't quite worked up to nightshade, but he's almost there.
"I finished," Dustin says, pushing his homework away and dropping his pencil.
Steve sets the pie on a cooling rack and shuts off the oven. "And that was all your homework?" he asks, dropping his oven mitts and moving to Dustin's side of the island. He leans over Dustin's shoulder, pulling the homework back and skimming over the answers.
It's a sheet of chemical equations, and Steve very quickly realizes he's got no clue what he's looking at. He frowns slightly and hums. "How confident are you?" he asks.
Dustin chooses one of the equations and starts explaining his balancing process. He gets about halfway through before Steve puts a hand over his mouth to stop him. "Okay, okay, I get it. You're gonna make my brain hurt," he says, grimacing when Dustin licks his palm. He pulls his hand away, dragging it on Dustin's shirt to clean it.
"Can I go now?" Dustin asks, looking up at Steve.
Steve sighs and ruffles his hair. "Run along. I think Casper is in the D&D room," he says, his guess confirmed by the slam of a door down the hall. With a grin, Dustin slides out of the chair, shoves the homework into his backpack, and runs out of the kitchen.
Now that he's alone, Steve takes a deep breath and starts cleaning the kitchen. He rinses used mixing bowls and utensils before placing them in the dishwasher, unplugs the mixer, and wipes the counters clean of flour and sugar and nightshade extract.
He's just finished cutting the pie when lightning strikes a tree outside the kitchen window, thunder rolls loudly over the house, the lights surge and flicker, and the front door swings open to slam against the wall with a vigor only Eddie could produce. Steve blinks and looks out the window once more, confirming that it is, in fact, still raining, and leaves the knife in the pie to welcome Eddie.
If he's come home this early, he must have finally been struck by lightning, which means there's something to celebrate.
Steve grins excitedly and heads to the front door only to stop short when he enters the hallway. Eddie is soaked to the bone, which is expected, sporting a huge grin that reveals too-sharp canines with the ends of his hair burnt like he'd (finally) been struck by lightning. He looks like a drenched rat, and in his arms is an equally drenched child that he carefully sets on her feet.
She looks no more than ten and sticks close to Eddie, staring at Steve with silver-grey eyes. Her skin and hair are the same deep black as the calla lilies on the porch, and the hair she's pulled up into two puffs on either side of her head has a similar reddish tinge along the edges. Splashed across the bridge of her nose, cheeks, and forehead are freckles lighter than the girl's skin, standing out because of it.
Eddie smiles excitedly at Steve, practically vibrating where he stands but not moving since the girl is gripping the edge of his shirt. "Stevie! Sweetheart! I'm home!" he says, his gaze flicking between Steve and the girl and unabashedly begging Steve to ask about her.
Steve can't help chuckling. "Welcome home," he says, walking closer and grabbing the towel he'd placed on the coat rack after Eddie left that morning. He crouches in front of the girl and smiles warmly. "Hi, what's your name?" he asks.
She fidgets for a moment, glancing up at Eddie long enough to see his relaxed shoulders and infatuated smile before looking at Steve again and smiling at him. Her right canine is sharper than her left, and Steve feels his heart melt at that sight. "I don't know," she says, shrugging as she steps forward. "I don't like my name much, but I haven't thought of a new one, yet."
"I see," Steve says, unfolding the towel and wrapping it around her shoulders. "Well, my name is Steve, and you've already met Eddie here. Did you lose your parents?" he asks.
It's not that he doesn't know why Eddie brought a child home. Steve has made no secret of his desire for children, after all. He just has to make sure Eddie acquired the child...well, legality doesn't really matter, but he can't have stolen the child from people who truly care for her.
The girl rubs her cheek against the towel, looking delighted by something so soft, and says, "Oh, I haven't lost them. I know exactly where they are." Her grin widens a bit, and she points down at the floor. "I put them there myself."
Steve raises an eyebrow at her, getting a slightly amused smile. "Did you? How come?"
She sighs, shaking her head as though it's a shame. "They were meanies. I wanted new parents."
"And you met Eddie."
She nods, looking excited as she glances back at Eddie. "He had a big pole to catch the lightning!"
Eddie crouches next to her now, his eyes bright and eager as he says, "It was amazing, Stevie! The moment she walked up to me, I was finally struck!"
The girl nods in agreement, and Steve looks between the two of them as he considers. Her parents are gone (by her own hands, apparently, and Steve feels oddly proud already), and she got Eddie struck by lightning. "Do you have any other family?" he finally asks.
When the girl shakes her head, a few drops of water flying off the ends of her hair, Steve can't help grinning. Something settles in his chest, warm and happy, and Steve nods once. "There's a lawyer in the family," he says to Eddie, meeting his gaze.
"They're perfectly corrupt, too," Eddie agrees.
Steve nods and looks at the girl again. He scoops her up, standing straight and grinning when she squeals with delight. "Welcome home," he tells her, already figuring out the best way to introduce her to Dustin.
----
Exactly two weeks after Steve and Eddie gain a daughter and ask a favor from the Addams lawyer, she chooses her name.
It happens in the kitchen. She's sitting next to Dustin, both of them watching Steve and Eddie make pancakes for breakfast. Eddie is getting the pan ready while Steve is making two batters. One has chocolate chips and will be cooked the first. The other will have chocolate chips and nightshade berries fresh from Flora and Fauna's secret garden at their psychiatric hospital.
"What are those?" their daughter asks, pointing at the jar of nightshade berries.
Steve picks up the jar and shakes one out, placing it in her palm for closer inspection. "They're called nightshade. They're deadly," he says, smiling as he shakes the rest into a black mixing bowl.
"Do they taste good?" she asks.
"I wouldn't try it," Dustin says, leaning closer despite his wary look. "Unless you're like Eddie and Steve, I guess."
"Am I?" she asks.
"Well, you did just fine with the cyanide," Steve reasons, considering the berries for a moment. Finally, he nods once and gestures to the berry in her palm. "You can try it."
She lights up and pops the berry into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. After a few seconds, she swallows. "They're good," she decides, nodding once and looking unaffected by the berry.
Steve decides to give her a few minutes still, just to be sure.
"You know," Eddie says, looking over his shoulder and taking the finished chocolate chip batter from Steve, "they come from a plant with purple flowers."
"Oh!" Dustin says, sitting up straight, "We learned about them in class. They're called Atropa belladonna, or belladonna for short. They're native to, like, Asia and Europe."
"What class did you learn that in?" Steve asks, mixing chocolate chips into the batter alongside the nightshade in the second bowl.
"English. We read some story where a wife poisoned her husband using belladonna. Max said it was very girlboss of her," Dustin explains.
"So, it's a flower and a poison?" Steve and Eddie's daughter asks, studying the jar for a moment before grinning. "I like it!"
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, flipping a cooked pancake onto a large plate before pouring more batter into the pan. "Maybe we should get you a cutting."
She shakes her head. "I like the name," she explains.
Steve and Eddie both pause, sharing a look before turning their gazes to her with serious expressions. "Would you like your name to be Belladonna?" Steve asks.
After a few seconds of serious consideration, she nods once. "Yeah, I like it."
Eddie abandons the stove, dropping the spatula in favor of sliding around the island and lifting Belladonna from her chair. "It's perfect!" he tells her, hugging her close and spinning her in a circle. "Our little poison flower!"
Belladonna squeals in surprise, latching onto Eddie's neck as Steve flips the pancakes so they don't burn. "You know we gotta enroll her in school now, right?" he asks, looking over his shoulder just in time to see Eddie throw Belladonna in the air.
"Aww, man, she's too young to get her spirit crushed," Dustin says, leaning forward to watch as Steve slides a few more pancakes onto the plate.
"There's nothing wrong with a good spirit-crushing," Steve says, glancing up when the lights flicker and a cabinet door slams. "See, Casper agrees with me."
"They can't crush my spirit if I crush theirs first," Belladonna says, scrambling her way to sitting on Eddie's shoulders. She drapes herself over Eddie's head, arms hanging in front of his face, and brightly adds, "And by crush, I mean kill."
Eddie grins and grabs her hands, moving them so he can see Steve. "Our daughter is perfect," he tells him.
"She's just like y'all," Dustin says.
"Isn't it great?" Steve and Eddie ask, meeting each other's gaze and laughing when Dustin just rolls his eyes and mutters about them getting grosser by the day.
El
El stays with them on the weekends. She spends all of Saturday playing with Dustin and Belladonna, switching between the two as she pleases until they've all somehow congregated in the living room to watch true crime videos and judge the criminals. On Sunday, she helps Steve in the kitchen as he preps lunches and dinners for the week and then tends to the plants outside. Eddie sometimes joins them in the kitchen, but he usually ends up doing laundry most of the day.
On this particular weekend, Wayne drops El off with several suitcases next to her on the porch. Steve stares at them for a moment before looking up at Wayne. "Did something happen?" he asks.
"Well, I'm leaving on a world trip," Wayne says, placing a hand on El's shoulder as he continues, "and El would rather stay here than tag along."
"It is the middle of the school year," Steve points out, glancing down when Belladonna pokes her head out the door.
She sees El and lights up. "Oh, perfect! I've got a brand new guillotine from Cousin Wednesday. You got one, too, right? Let's race them!" she says, pushing onto the porch and grabbing El's hand.
El nods and looks up at Wayne. "I will be inside. Please help Steve bring my bags in," she says before grabbing one of her bags (presumably the one with the guillotine in it) and letting Belladonna drag her into the house.
Steve can't help smiling as they pass him, reaching out to ruffle each girl's hair. When they've gone inside, he looks at Wayne. "Where are you planning to go?" he asks.
"I'm gonna start domestic with Area 51," Wayne says, looking excited just to talk about it, "Then I'm gonna hit those Parisian catacombs, make my way to a haunted forest in China, and then circle back to spend a few weeks in the Bermuda Triangle."
"You'd better not pull a Fester on us," Steve jokes.
Wayne sighs, shaking his head regretfully. "Nobody could pull a Fester except him. How do you follow that up? I mean, the grief he put his brother through, it's impressive all right," he says.
Knowing the full story of Fester's disappearance and homecoming, Steve can't argue with Wayne. "Well, maybe you'll get lucky enough to be abducted," he says.
"One can only hope," Wayne says, returning Steve's grin. "Seriously, though, you don't mind watching El, do you? I'm sure Cousin Itt wouldn't mind if it's too much trouble."
Steve waves away his worries. "She's Eddie's sister, which makes her my sister, and she's friends with Belladonna and Dustin. Of course, she's welcome here. In fact, you're welcome, too, when you get back," Steve tells him.
Wayne laughs, pulling Steve into a spine-crushing hug. "I just might take you up on that," he says, patting Steve's back before pulling away. "Now, let's get El's stuff to her room."
----
El already has a designated guest room, and she helps Steve unpack her things in it. Her clothes are already in the closet and dresser, her books and knick-knacks are on the bookshelf, and she's currently setting out her skeleton collection on the windowsill while Steve hangs up her photos of cobwebs.
"Can I invite friends over?" El suddenly asks, looking at Steve as he carefully hammers a nail into the wall.
Steve blinks and looks over his shoulder. She's finished placing her collection and is now sitting on the bed, feet idly swinging over the edge. "Yeah, just try to let me or Eddie know when you do," he says, flashing her a reassuring smile before focusing back on the nail.
As though he's been summoned, Eddie bursts into the room and zeroes in on El. "It's about time!" he says, throwing himself onto the bed next to El. His weight makes her bounce, and she falls over Eddie's stomach, blinking a few times.
"You know," Steve says, putting down the hammer to hang the photo on the nail, "you could've invited her to stay here at any point."
"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?" Eddie asks.
"Why was waiting more fun?" El asks him, pushing on his stomach to sit up again.
Eddie grins at her. "Cuz I made a bet with Dustin about how long it'd take, and I won," he explains.
Steve pauses and raises an eyebrow at him. "What did you bet?"
It must be something good because Eddie doesn't shy away from Steve's gaze. Instead, he lights up and jumps off the bed. "Well, Dust-Bunny lost, so he's agreed to babysit Belladonna next Friday," he says, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist and spinning them to the center of the room. "So, we can go out."
"Like, a date night?" Steve asks, a smile tugging on his lips.
"Whatever you wanna do," Eddie promises, pulling Steve into a dance to music only he can hear. Steve is only a little jealous of Eddie's auditory hallucinations.
"I can also watch Belladonna with Dustin," El offers, watching them from the bed. She has a tiny smile, looking completely relaxed and at home watching Eddie and Steve flirt. "If she dies, it will be in an entertaining way."
Steve snorts, pulling away from Eddie and dropping onto the bed next to El. Eddie follows, crouching in front of them and grinning up at her. "You don't need to babysit, too," Steve tells her, ruffling her hair. "But we'd appreciate it if you make sure Belladonna actually goes to bed on time."
El nods once. "I can knock her out if she stays up too long," she says.
"We have sedatives for that, so no blunt objects required," Eddie says, "They're in the kitchen."
"Can I have a bottle for my room?" El asks.
Steve and Eddie share a look, and Eddie shrugs. "Sure, I'll make some just for you," Steve promises. When El smiles a little wider at him, he pulls her into a hug. "Remember, this is your home now, too. So, just do whatever makes you comfortable."
"Oh," El says, leaning into Steve as she nods, "I'll start putting down traps, then."
Steve makes a mental note to warn Dustin later to watch out for those traps.
Romero
Three months after Belladonna twirls into the house and sets root and two months after El has laid down her final trap, Steve starts rearranging one of the guest rooms. He's not sure why, of course, but he's filled with a sudden and inescapable need for it to be different.
Steve changes the sheets on the guest bed, replacing them with a new, forest green set. He gets a dresser for the room and asks El to carve insects along the sides. The desk stays, but he moves it to sit under the window and replaces the curtains so they're lighter and more easily swayed by the breeze. He gets a bookcase and fills it with odds and ends: a jar of marbles, a comb with a mother-of-pearl handle, a shrunken head Belladonna found on the ground one day, and a collection of buttons, to name a few.
Finally, Steve covers the room in plants, dragging in planters and pots and even a fish tank for an aquatic plant set-up. While he never had a green thumb before, taking care of Nix and spending several hours on the phone with Morticia has given him the skills to make sure the plants thrive. He grows flowers and succulents and wall-crawlers and everything in between.
When he's done, two weeks have passed, and Steve inexplicably feels like the room is just about perfect.
It's just missing an occupant.
----
Someone grabs the back of Steve's shirt, tugging on it until Steve groans and rolls over. He stops once he's facing the edge of the bed, blinking tiredly against the odd glow coming from the kid standing there.
It's the middle of the night, and Steve had been halfway through a dream in which Dart and Nix were waltzing in the backyard, so he can definitely be forgiven for not questioning the child's existence. He just questions what brought the child to their room.
"Wha'z wrong?" he asks, the words slurred together and practically incomprehensible.
Thankfully, the child seems perfectly fluent in half-awake linguistics. "Bad dream," he says, voice soft like the breeze but all-encompassing like the rustle of leaves.
Steve hums softly and reaches out. He picks up the boy, vaguely noting that he can't weigh more than a five year old. The child says nothing as Steve cradles him to his chest and rolls back over.
"Sleep h're," Steve mumbles, placing the boy down between him and Eddie. He keeps his right arm under the boy's head, letting his bicep act as a pillow. And Eddie, somehow, seems to sense a child in the bed in his sleep. He shifts closer, draping his arm over the kid's stomach and then grabbing the edge of Steve's shirt tightly.
The boy settles in, grabbing Steve's other arm to hold like a teddy bear. "Good night," he says, the words barely more than a whisper.
Steve smiles and kisses the boy's temple, murmuring a good night in return before falling right back to sleep.
When Steve wakes up in the morning, his arm is still acting as a teddy bear. He tries to pull away, intending to go to the bathroom, but the grip tightens. Steve is about to tell Eddie he'll be back in a minute but pauses when he looks down.
Green eyes meet his, staring calmly. They belong to a little boy, no more than five, with skin so pale it almost has a green tinge and hair so red Steve is surprised the pillow isn't on fire. The boy is pinned under Eddie's arm, looking perfectly content to stay there.
"Uh, good morning," Steve says, his voice rough from sleep.
Before the boy can respond, Eddie hums softly, a smile tugging at his lips. "Good morning, sweetheart," he says.
Steve can't help a soft laugh. "I wasn't talking to you, babe," he says.
Eddie opens his eyes at that, zeroing in on Steve first like always before seeing the boy in their bed. "Oh," he says, holding the kid's gaze for a few seconds, "Good morning."
The boy nods to Eddie and sits up, finally letting go of Steve's hand only to hold his arms out. Steve doesn't really think; he just scoops the boy up, cradling him close.
Apparently comfortable, the boy finally says, "Good morning. My name is Romero."
And Steve suddenly knows who he redecorated the guest room for.
----
Belladonna and El don't blink twice at seeing Romero sitting at the kitchen island, a small cup of milk in front of him, when they come down for breakfast. Dustin, however, stops in the doorway and gestures at him while asking, "When the fuck did we get another one?!"
"Okay, first of all, language," Steve says, turning around and aiming a spatula threateningly at Dustin. "Second of all, this is Romero. Now, come sit down."
"Do neither of you find this weird?" Dustin asks, looking at Belladonna and El as he slides into his usual seat at the island. Eddie places a cup of orange juice in front of him, pushing down the bill of the cap he insists on wearing inside before moving on to get drinks for El and Belladonna.
"Nope! I've got a brother now," Belladonna says, grinning as she leans closer to Romero and pokes his cheek.
"You already had a brother," Dustin mutters before taking a sip of his juice.
Belladonna still hears him, so she turns to Dustin. "Yeah, but you're, like, an older brother," she says. "I go to you when I need to bury someone or rig something to blow up. Now, there's someone who can come to me for that stuff."
Dustin blinks, considering for a moment before relaxing. "Well, I guess that's true. Oh, and that music box you asked me to...fix is done," he tells her.
"Thanks, Dustin!" she says, settling in her seat again as Steve slides a plate of eggs in front of her.
"I put ghost pepper on it like you asked," Steve tells her, kissing the top of her head before putting another plate in front of Dustin. "And yours already has ketchup."
He goes back to the stove and finds a cup of coffee waiting for him. "Thanks," he says, pulling Eddie into a quick kiss before pulling away.
Eddie hums and playfully nudges Steve away from the stove. "I can make the oatmeal," he says, gesturing for Steve to go sit at the island, too. "Go bond with the kids."
Steve rolls his eyes but doesn't argue. He just takes his seat next to Romero and idly fixes a few fly-away hairs sticking up. "Romero, this is Belladonna, Dustin, and El," he says, pointing to each kid as he introduces them. "Belladonna is our daughter, Dustin is my brother, and El is Eddie's sister."
After a few seconds, Romero looks up at Steve. "Must I call them aunt and uncle?" he asks.
"Nope, you can call them whatever you like," Eddie says, grinning over his shoulder at Romero. "I suggest Dust-Bunny for Dustin."
"Can we please let that nickname go?" Dustin asks.
"No," El says, watching as Eddie pours oats into a pot of warmed milk. "It's amusing."
Dustin groans and shoves a forkful of eggs into his mouth.
"Hey," Belladonna says her eggs, poking Romero's cheek again, "How come your skin is green?"
"To blend in," Romero says, inspecting his now empty cup with a slight frown. He doesn't ask for more, though.
"Blend in with what?"
"The forest."
Belladonna hums, nodding once like that answers every question and doesn't inspire more, and focuses on eating her eggs.
"You know, we'll have to enroll Romero in school, too," Steve suddenly says, taking a sip of his coffee.
Eddie hums in agreement, pouring oatmeal into bowls before placing them in front of El, Steve, and Romero. "Good point. How old are you, Romero?"
"How old do I look?" he asks, picking up a blue plastic spoon and using it to stir around the oatmeal curiously.
"Around five," El tells him, pouring pitch-black syrup into her oatmeal before passing it to Eddie.
Romero nods. "I'm five."
Steve hums, meeting Eddie's gaze. His husband doesn't seem to have any ideas, either, so Steve tucks this moment away for later, after the older kids have gone to school. For now, though, he pours some honey into Romero's oatmeal and encourages him to give it a try. When Romero's eyes widen slightly at the taste, Steve grins and feels something warm settle in his chest.
Robin
Two weeks into summer, Robin appears on the front porch of the house with her dorm room in bags around her and an impatient expression. Steve has a similar expression when he opens the door. "What took you so long?!" he asks, yanking Robin into a tight hug that she quickly returns.
"C'mon, dingus, you know I had to finish school," she says, digging her fingers into Steve's side and grinning when he jerks away. "Now, show me to my room. I know you've set one aside for me."
Steve rolls his eyes, but he doesn't correct her. He has set a room aside. It's on the first floor. He'd dubbed it Robin's room when he finally spent more than two seconds studying the space and realized it had a perfect view of the house where the married couple likes to argue on the front lawn. They'll offer Robin hours of entertainment.
"Help me carry your stuff," he says, picking up several bags.
As he's shouldering two of them, Belladonna rushes onto the porch and crashes into Robin's legs, grinning up at her. "Robin! What took you so long?" she asks.
"Geez, she really is your kid," Robin says, grinning at Steve before crouching. "As I told Steve, I had to actually finish school."
"I know. I wanted to go set it on fire, but Dad wouldn't let me and Romero said it would draw too much attention."
"Well, set it on fire next time. If anyone dies, they have to give everyone an A."
"That's not true," Steve says, shooting Robin a look before gesturing Belladonna closer. "Here, can you help us carry stuff inside?"
"Okay! I'll take...this!" Belladonna grabs what looks like the heaviest bag on the porch, straining as she drags it inside.
Steve watches her and shakes his head. He looks at Robin and gestures to the final bags on the porch. "You gonna get those?" he asks.
"I can't believe you're making me carry things, Steven," Robin says, huffing as she picks them up. "Me, a guest in your home, having to carry her own things inside."
"One, not my name. Two, you're not a guest, Robin. You're family. And family carries their shit."
Robin rolls her eyes, unable to help a grin as she uses her foot to hold the door open for Steve. She slides into the house behind him, nearly tripping over Dart but managing to step over him at the last minute. "Once again, your name is whatever's comedically appropriate, dingus," she says, sticking her tongue out as they catch up to Belladonna dragging her bag down the hall. "And aww, you called me family."
Steve pauses and looks at Robin, a serious expression on his face. "Of course, you're family, Robin. You're more family than my parents. Living in a house with you was literally my birthday wish when I was 13," he tells her.
"Ooh, kinda embarrassing to admit that," Robin says condescendingly, her face scrunched into a sympathetic smile. It only lasts for a few seconds before she drops it into something more genuine and bumps her hip against Steve's. "But you're my family too, and I'm glad we get to be together now."
"Is this Robin?"
Steve blinks and looks over his shoulder to find Romero standing just behind them. He's gotten used to his son just appearing whenever and wherever he likes. "Yep. Romero, this is Robin. Robin, this is Romero, my son," Steve says, unable to contain a grin.
"Ohhh, this is the famous Romero," Robin says, spinning on her heel and crouching in front of him. They study each other for a few seconds. "Favorite color?"
"Gold. Like honey."
"Favorite food?"
"Dino nuggets."
"Right on. Favorite movie?"
"Friday the 13th."
"Favorite weapon?"
"Crossbow."
Robin nods once and looks up at Steve. "He sure fits right in," she says.
"He's got a way with the electric chair in Belladonna's room," Steve says, a happy pride filling his words.
"I'm sure he does," Robin says, nodding along like she hasn't heard Steve say this before during one of their phone calls. She flashes a grin at Romero, messes up his hair, and then stands. "Okay, show me my room already, dingus."
Steve snorts and nods, leading Robin the rest of the way to her room. "We're planning a big dinner to welcome you," he says, looking over his shoulder at her, "Everyone is gonna be there. Except Casper. He's on vacation."
"Ghosts take vacations?"
"Well, you can't expect him to work 24/7, right?"
Robin considers for a moment before nodding, figuring it would be an unreasonable expectation to have.
----
"The blood doesn't even look real," Robin complains, throwing popcorn at the TV from where she's sprawled on the armchair. He head is resting on one arm while her legs are thrown over the other, a bowl of popcorn and a soda balancing precariously on her stomach.
"It's the first movie," Steve tells her, shifting to lean more comfortably on Eddie's shoulder, "Give them a break." Romero is in his lap, sleeping with his head cushioned on Steve's chest. He'd nodded off a few minutes into the movie, and Steve had started idly running his fingers through Romero's hair.
"But she's right," Belladonna says, pouting as she tilts her head back to look up at her parents. "It's too dark to be real."
"They wouldn't really let the actors bleed," Dustin explains, looking up from his little animatronic long enough to meet Belladonna's gaze, "It's not, like, ethical. And the actors could sue them."
"They have never bled to death before," El decides, frowning from her spot on the floor. Her head is propped on Dart's side, and she's idly playing with a spider she'd found in her room. "They don't look nearly happy enough."
Steve feels Eddie laugh before he hears him, his shoulders and stomach shaking. "It's not even a clever death," he points out, feeding a few pieces of popcorn to Steve, "I wouldn't look happy, either."
"See, when I made these kinda comments at college, everyone looks at me weird," Robin says, nearly spilling her soda over herself and the chair as she wiggles to get comfortable. "Thank fuck I'm around normal people now."
"You think this is normal?" Dustin asks her.
"Yeah."
Dustin blinks and then points at El and Dart. "That's literally a freak of nature," he says, his tone still affectionate despite the words.
"Thank you for the compliment," El says, tilting her head to look at him.
Before Dustin can say he was talking about Dart, Belladonna turns around and pouts at him. The scene on the TV starts flashing, backlighting her in red and white and black. "How come you haven't called me a freak of nature?" she asks.
"It's okay, sweetie," Eddie says, reaching out to pat her head. "You'll always be our little poison flower."
"Besides, being a freak of nature is about your vibes, not your looks," Steve adds, flashing her an encouraging smile.
Belladonna considers this for a moment before nodding and turning back to the movie to watch the character's arm get completely torn off. "The arterial spray isn't accurate," she complains.
"You're all so weird," Dustin mumbles, not bothering to hold back the endeared smile tugging at his lips.
Steve's own smile widens as he reaches for Eddie's free hand and brings it to his lips, playfully biting his palm. "Isn't it great?" he whispers, meeting Eddie's eyes. He gets a semi-feral grin in response, one that shows off sharp canines, and Steve decides they'll simply have to break the bed again tonight.
Tag List!
(Tumblr has a limit, so I couldn't get everyone who's requested a tag, but I did try to get as many as I could)
@estrellami-1, @justforthedead89, @starman-jpg, @abstractnaturaldisaster, @sugartin, @ashwagandalf, @xjessicafaithx, @somegirlsomewhere, @imjust-that-shy, @blaqcats-fics, @littlebluejane, @xoxoladyclara, @halfadoginatank
@pjoneedstherapy, @nocturnalgayboi, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @justforthedead89, @gothwifehotchner, @elizbaehth, @angels-dressed-in-blood, @imfinereallyy, @oile-loves-sharks, @carlprocastinator1000, @stxrcrossed186, @spider-boygirl, @epiclazershark, @7shrewsinatrenchcoat
@perfectlymellowthing, @just-a-tiny-void, @nburkhardt, @nailbatandfreak, @sunfloweringstories, @vampireinthesun, @novelnovella, @bookworm0690, @bestwifehaver, @goosesister, @phantomcat94, @martinskis-lydias, @ghostofyourvampiregf, @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring
@nerdsconquerall, @dontslayfay, @potato-of-the-lord, @suikatto, @deliriousmom, @code-switcher, @lizard-dyk3, @anonymousbandgirl
Belladonna! (POV: you are Steddie and your daughter is very proudly showing off her new fang)
And Romero! (POV: you have insulted his little bow tie and he is now contemplating ways to get revenge)
#steddie#steddie fic#addams family steddie#addams! eddie munson#steve harrington#dustin henderson#eleven stranger things#robin buckley#it's about the found family vibes#and the addams trope of children just fucking appearing outta nowhere actually#where they come from? who knows but they're addams (or munsons) now
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