#but then i'm like. most often the low will be during the middle of the night which... is that representative??? idk???? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

urhoneycombwitch · 3 months

Note

eddie in the middle of Steve and reader sandwich

I need that boy to get pampered, loved on, and fucked until he's absolutely seeing stars

he's got big Stevie behind him in his hole and reader under him on his dick and there's so many hands and so many mouths and so much praise and there's just nowhere for him to go because when he pulls back, he's only pushing Steve in deeper and if he leans forward, he's sliding deep into reader and it's so overwhelmingly delicious that his head gets all fuzzy like when he smokes but he's perfectly sober

anon when I tell u this has been living in my mind rent-free for days on end...... have a blurb as a treat

+18 mdni

he's lost in it, you can tell.

Eddie gets this glassy, blissed-out look sometimes during sex- most often spotted when you and Steve team up to give Eddie your collective focus.

as luck, practice, and stamina would have it, you and Steve make a stellar team.

Eddie can't do much more than brace his arms against the mattress, the sharp snap of Steve's hips rocking them both forward as Eddie pants into your mouth.

"f-fuck, Steve, fuck me-" his voice is wrecked, partly from the strain of tamping down his orgasm, partly from the cock that was down his throat earlier.

"what do you think I'm doing," Steve quips, driving his hips forward again, golden torso on display from the little you can see around Eddie's shoulder. Steve catches your gaze and winks, cheekily, even through the haze of flush-pink crawling up his neck (a sure sign of his impending release).

Eddie's forearms frame your head, his nose nudging yours with the close proximity. you can hear every little moan that leaves his kiss-bitten lips, see every minute detail of his facial expressions as they shift and change.

it's why you and Steve make such a good team, when you're like this- Steve relies on you and sound alone to relay Eddie's reactions, and in turn, makes you both feel really good.

maybe, this time, a bit too good; Eddie's making these keening noises like he's been punched- not an unusual occurrence on its own, but his eyes are squeezed shut so tight under his dark brows that it kind of worries you.

"hey-" in a room of slick noises and jagged gasps, your voice is a soft, honeyed thing, and Eddie's eyes pop open- half-lidded but you'll take it- as you slide your hands up his sides to cradle his face. "you okay? want me to tell big mean Stevie to take it easy on you?"

the moment you'd spoken Steve had stilled his movements, loosening his grip on the pale, lithe hips in front of him to stroke a soft palm down Eddie's back instead. he scoffs above you both now at that comment, muttering something about Eddie liking it big and mean.

you ignore Steve for the time being, pretending like it's just you and Eddie, pushing his sweaty bangs off his forehead to give him some relief from the heat that seemed to roil off all of you. "take a deep breath for me, baby. y'wanna stop?"

Eddie obeys, drawing in a shuddering breath before pressing his sticky forehead to your bare collarbone, shaking his head against you as garbled words spill out- "no, please, no, wanna keep going, gonna be so good for you, please, honey..."

"sounds pretty when he begs," Steve comments, the tautness in his frame and voice betraying his feigned casualness.

you shoot him a look, one hand threaded in Eddie's hair as he muffles his whines into your skin- a look that means play nice or else. Steve heaves a dramatic sigh before leaning to cover Eddie's upper shoulders in kisses.

"c'mon, Eds," he murmurs, teeth snagging behind the shell of Eddie's ear, voice low and coaxing, "gotta show our girl a good time, right?"

you feel the effect Steve has on the dark-haired boy, Eddie's cock buried deep within you kicking up, which makes you moan, which in turn makes Eddie moan and clench around Steve...

there's a moment of stilted resettling; Steve slips a warm hand under your knee to push your leg up and out, giving you all a bit more breathing room, while Eddie pushes his upper half up again on shaky arms.

Steve eases himself forward, tongue poking out in concentration, grinning victorious when this new angle pulls a low groan from Eddie.

you're worried he's going to zone out again, but one of his hands leaves the mattress to snake between your bodies, thumb catching at your aching clit.

it's your turn to close your eyes, a mounting wave of pleasure thrumming between your legs; distantly, you hear Steve chuckle and instruct Eddie to do it again.

he obeys, like he always does- though this time when his thumb circles that bundle of nerves, he sucks your nipple into his mouth in a tandem move that has your back arching off the bed.

"jesus- fuck- fucking... don't stop, Eds, please..."

and in a tone far too smug for someone with a dick up his ass, Eddie releases your breast with a wet pop to tease, "now who's begging?"

#lu’s anons #e.m. thots from lu #s.h. thots from lu #steddie thots from lu #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #+18 mdni #mdni

768 notes · View notes

ukiyowi · 5 months

Text

How Will You Be Remembered?

Note: I'm in the middle of end sem season which is why I've been so offline and like bad w posting, I hope you like this <33

Read from 1 -> 3

Find more at Masterlist

🌷 Pile 1

Hello Pile 1! I will start this off with don't take it to heart, this is not who you are, just how people may remember you or perceive you after you are gone. You may be remembered as someone who was not afraid of showing your vulnerabilities, some people may see you as weak because of this and remember you as someone who did not take enough risks or played it safe too often to the point of your own detriment. They could think you were someone who lacked confidence and had low self-esteem even though you may have "had it all" so people may remember you as someone who had a lot of potential to do great things.

People would also feel like you were the kind of person who had a lot of problems with self-victimisation or self-sabotage where even if you had resources you felt too scared or restricted, almost powerless because of your own mind. They could have thought that you faked a lot of your problems or blew them out of proportion to seem like you have it really bad, even if this is not the case in reality, (remember what I said earlier). You could also be remembered as someone who had issues with romance or in your domestic life, possibly with your partner where you may have been a little possessive or controlling, some sort of jealousy that gets in the way of you being able to completely devote yourself without even a sliver of doubt towards your partner, yeah people could remember you as someone quite ungrounded in that regard. They may also remember you as someone who had a lot of internal familial problems and disharmony possibly with your kids as well.

However! Not everything’s negative, people would also remember you as someone who celebrated their own achievements and had a lot of inner peace and harmony surrounding them. People may recall you to be a team worker and someone who is very ambitious and sincere when it comes to their work. Also someone extremely generous and willing to share their wealth not only materially but also your knowledge, wisdom, resources, time, etc. You would be remembered for being able to go through cycles of constant change and come out better and brighter on the other side, someone who is very good with leaving the past in the past and not looking back once you move forward. To top it all of you could also be remembered as someone who tries to keep the peace and mediate even if they don't want to, almost as if your hand was being forced every time because you had to carry the responsibility of keeping things civil.

If you like this and want morez buy a reading or tip, if you want at [Paid Readings] and ko-fi.com/taagen respectively.

🌷 Pile 2

Hello pile 2! You will be remembered as someone who is extremely intuitive. Maybe you are spiritual yourself and get bad vibes from people that are often correct (or good vibes), maybe you think or feel something is going to take place and let others know, and are dismissed initially before it turns out you were once again correct. So you would definitely be remembered as that, also someone who is very true to their roots and authentic, you can stay close to your culture and traditions and may even carry out conventions at the most with a twist of your own! People would also remember you as an individual who is very abundant, especially financially. Someone who has their business in different domains and tries to capitalise off of a number of ventures, also someone who starts their own ventures! Yeah, you may leave behind a huge sum of money or capital too, that may be inherited by the people around you so that would instantly have you be remembered as someone who is generous and good with their money, people would think you were the kind who never had any monetary issues that you had to face growing up or during your young adult ages even if it may not be true to reality.

You'd also be remembered as someone who is very bright, shines in whatever they do, and someone who may be the mood maker. Like the glue in friendships or workplaces, you would be remembered as someone who connects people with each other, like if you have a friend, and you introduce them to someone else, then those two people become friends even if you drift apart from them, you know what I mean? A little specific however, something that is coming through strongly. You may be remembered as a mentor figure too, like wise and knowledgeable, someone very open to helping others even if it does not benefit you in any way.

Now, some people may also remember you as indecisive, or someone who lacked commitment and that you were shrouded in self-doubt. They could also think that you may have knowingly or unknowingly indulged in gossip that could have been malicious in nature and that you may end up victimising yourself even if you have wronged someone else, you may be recalled as a figure in people's lives where you wronged them, but they had to bear the weight of all the consequences. Some could also think you were apathetic to a large extent and dispassionate about things when alive, that you did not use the resources and talents you may have had productively because of repeating negative cycles of laziness and procrastination which could lead you to not complete projects or meet deadlines.

If you like this and want morez buy a reading or tip, if you want at [Paid Readings] and ko-fi.com/taagen respectively.

🌷 Pile 3

Pile 3 you've got some goo d cards! You may have a lot of people around you and a lot of good friendships/family members and connections in your life who appreciate you because wow! People would remember you as a family person, someone who was very close to their relatives and had the kind of family that one would dream of having. Your children may carry some sort of your legacy as well where they may become very well known, and you would be remembered through them. People would also think that during the course of your life you were someone who got very lucky with marriage or finding your partner, so a lot of how you are remembered also come from your family like your relations with them, maybe your partner as well.

You could also be remembered as someone who is very active when it comes to social justice. Someone who always stands up for what they believe in even if you are in the absolute minority, but this could also come with people thinking you have a way of being forceful and pushy when it comes to wanting what you want, especially when it comes to arguments or conflicts. You may also be remembered as someone who used to challenge convention and play by your own rules.

There is so much familial stuff here, how you'd be remembered for being nurturing and playing a motherly role (regardless of gender) for the people around you as well. Also, remembered as being very confident in your own convictions and being extremely optimistic, like you could have helped people around you look at the brighter side as well.

Okay so this is a little aside, but it was a strong intuitive message that people could also remember you as someone who is accepting of new challenges no matter what, even if it is something that you may not have resources to completely pass obstacles. Also, someone who has a lot of turbulence in their life and ups and downs that may have pushed you to the edge, but this could be taken as inspirational for people, like seeing you go through so much and still make a good life for yourself could make people believe they can do the same, so you could also be remembered in a light of you being an inspiration.

Now moving on, you could lastly be remembered as someone who was not able to fulfil your true passions in your life and someone who could have passed without getting to nurture your inner child enough because of how busy you were nurturing the people around you.

If you like this and want morez buy a reading or tip, if you want at [Paid Readings] and ko-fi.com/taagen respectively.

#tarot readings #tarot reading #pick a pile #pick a card #pac #pick a card reading #pick a pile reading #tarot deck #tarot #tarot cards #tarot community #tarot commissions #Spotify

260 notes · View notes

laurzzz · 11 months

Text

Babe wake up, a new Welcome Home AU just dropped (more info below the artworks)

Edit: I'll also put the Information Database for this AU here. Click here to go there!

Mmmm lots of info to give on this AU but let's first start off with me writing a fic for this AU mhm because of course I'd do that, why wouldn't I?

Anw, I'm currently writing Chapter 2 and I'll be posting that and the prior chapters soon enough. I've been brainrotting so hard on this these past few weeks you guys have no idea!!

Click the read more/keep reading button to know more, as this is a bit of a long post!

Little bit of a premise to the AU (some will be implied in the Prologue Chapter):

The AU is a Teacher AU but since they can also be called Professors as well, I decided to just calling this AU as "Puppet Education" or "Puppet Ed", which will also be the title of the fic

No design for Y/N because yes, to enjoy possible variety on clothing, body type, and whatnot

The puppets live as civilians in a small town called Home and teach only in one same campus, Home Integrated University (HIU; a thing I made up where one can learn from Kindergarten up to taking Post Graduate degrees wahaha)

You grew up in this town and but went to be an exchange student/study abroad for high school

You end up coming back home to your town because of your parents' sudden deaths which leads you to finishing your studies (college) back in Home where you decide to study a program in getting an education degree

Thing is, you don't exactly know what you want after getting the education degree so you decide to "abuse" the free electives program that HIU is offering. That's how you meet all the puppet professors.

The puppets teach in both youth-based classes (kindergarten and middle school) and in college as seen in their little descriptions up top

The puppets work with each other and are still very close friends in this AU and they'd often chat during break time when they meet for their college classes

Home is an incredibly small town with a very small population so the less people means they are able to take on more classes to teach on

Their personalities are a bit out of character in this AU due to their... circumstances but I'll still try to keep their canon personalities clearly visible every now and then when writing

There's a bit more "lore" to this AU than what I'm giving you guys right now so if you want to maybe know more about that, consider reading through the fic when I start posting the chapters in a bit and as I continue to update it in the near future! The whole fic won't be too long, my expectations are pretty low for the length as I'm just trying to get the brainrot out in the most productive way I can possible.

I'll be tagging this AU as #puppet education for those who would want to sift through my posts in regards to it. That's all for now, I hope to see y'all join me in my brainrot!! >:}

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

This post features my Teacher AU for Welcome Home called Puppet Education. Wanna know more abt this AU? Check out the information database I made for it: https://puppet-education.carrd.co/

If you ever wish to do fanwork for Welcome Home like I do, be sure to consult the Fanwork Guide of Clown before doing so and you can also check out the official Welcome Home Website for more context on the characters!

#welcome home #welcome home au #partycoffin #teacher au #wally darling #julie joyful #sally starlet #frank frankly #eddie dear #poppy partridge #barnaby b beagle #howdy pillar #home #laursdraws #long post #puppet education

707 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

AITA for pretending to lose consciousness and using it as an excuse to drop out of school?

This happened when I was in HS but it's still eating me up. I (18F at the time) suffer from a severe case of IBS, which went undiagnosed for years. During the events of this story, I had no idea what my illness was which I suffered from ever since I was a toddler. My parents took me to several doctor, all who insisted I was perfectly healthy. Every year, the pain would get increasingly worse, and we try a different doctor every once in a while. I gave up seeking medical help during middle school because I was frustrated, the doctors believed I was faking to skip school and refused to write me notes. My parents know I don't lie, yet the doctor's words got to them. They don't exactly think I'm faking, but they think I'm exaggerating a mild stomachache because I wanted to skip school and have no will to fight. I mean, it's true that I have a low tolerance to pain, even getting my hair straightened is a painful experience for me everytime.

Anyway, since IBS tends to attack when someone feels bad, high school was the worst period in my life for numerous reasons but mainly because I was getting severely bullied. Also due to my frustration with doctors, I started believing that my illness was terminal and had yet to be discovered and I was severely depressed thinking my death was soon, which made my IBS worse. When the pain was at its worst, it felt like my belly was being stabbed from the inside by several knives, it leaves me to exhausted to get up from my bed. I always locked my room's door so my parents wouldn't try to drag me out of the bed Whenever I wanted to skip school. Despite at the constant pain I was in, never once did I lose consciousness because of it. Sometimes I wish I could faint so I wouldn't feel the pain for a short a period of time, but it never happened.

In days which pain is manageable, I try my best to go to school, I often attended 2-3 days each week. I specifically insisted on going to this school because it's lenient, unlike the school my parents tried to send me to.

However, just because the pain was manageable, it didn't mean that I was feeling fine. The constant exhaustion from the severe IBS attacks left me tired all the time and I just wanted to lay in my bed again. I spent most of my time at school resting my head on the desk and teachers got used to it, but they drew the line at me actually falling asleep in class.

It happened when I was like 4-5 months away from graduating, I just wanted to rest, I had enough of the pain that I didn't want to set afoot in school again, but my parents wouldn't let me. Eveyrone thinks I'm fine and just exaggerating, that's why, I used my perfect acting skills to drop to the floor while sitting in my chair, I heard everyone whispering about how worrying the way I fell was, that it must be something serious. Classmates kept shaking me for a minute but I didn't react because I wanted it to look real. I eventually pretended to wake up and told them that I couldn't handle it anymore. That period was my Physics final, which I didn't study for, and I didn't want to take it. I have no idea what lessons we took because I never studied or paid attention in class, I was literally at my limit.

I was allowed to rest that day, and when I went back home I told my parents about losing consciousness and that I desperately need to rest. They allowed me to drop out on the condition I go back to school the next year, I agreed, but secretly believed I would never live that long to attend school ever again.

My best friend cried really hard when I told her we wouldn't be graduating together and begged me to reconsider. I told her my illness got worse to the point I started fainting, and I desperately needed to rest.

Of course, I'm still very much alive and learned what's actually wrong with me (I literally self diagnosed myself based on people's experiences on the internet then "confronted" a doctor about it) and the IBS attacks are mild and manageable these days since I know what I need to do to avoid them, I have a full time job and rarely ever need to skip. But the guilt is making me feel like TA for worrying everyone about me and breaking my bff's heart. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

113 notes · View notes

blueberrypancakesworld · 6 months

Text

Lawrence/Mark x fem!reader - Jealousy

Warning : jealousy, blood, saw horror, kiss, use of Y/n, fluff, comfort

Mark Hoffman x fem!reader, Lawrence Gordon x fem!reader

Summary : Two men, two successors to Jigsaw and yet, besides the latest game, there is something in both of them that they want...you.

masterlist

Costas mandylor - masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since John had chosen his successors, the last thing he hoped for from them was an intimate relationship. Lawrence was his biggest project and at the same time his biggest secret. Amanda for a short time like a daughter but for her he was the father.

Mark had gotten by the serial killer again a sense and Y/n the newest member of the almost cult was Johns second hand which concerned the creation of traps. Behind the young reporter's friendly demeanor, however, was a goddess who, like John, ruled over the living and the dead.

A woman who since she had emerged, especially the doctor and the policeman had not been able to get out of his head. Lawrence for the first time again felt his heart beating for someone after his wife and Adam.

How the blond came more and more often to the factory instead of being at work to take care of the medical things and to keep an eye on how it would cause physical pain.

His friendliness and just slightly insane mixed and he enjoyed the time together with her. To his surprise, she had worked as a nurse for a few years and both had an interest in the medical field.

Mark, on the other hand, scored with his sense of justice and his direct manner. He made it clear to everyone that he wanted something from her. The way he rolled up his sleeves to work on the machines when they tightened something together.

The way he made remarks and flirted, much to the chagrin of John and Amanda, neither of whom wanted to hear about it as long as the three of them didn't forget their goal in the work. The umstruckturieren, punish and judge the people.

The sun was already low in the sky when Y/n returned from her lunch break to her office for the last few hours. Closing the door to her office and enjoying the coffee she had bought just a few minutes before. Settling into her chair, she finally saw the bouquet of red roses lying on her desk.

Is it a birthday? she asked herself and looked at the calendar on her wall where the birthdays of her colleagues were listed. But there was no little cake to be seen that month.

Taking the bouquet in her hand she smelled the sweet roses, the redness of the blossoms matched her lipstick. She saw the small card in the bouquet and took it in her hands while she fetched a glass of water and put the bouquet in it.

,,For the most loving co-worker as a token of my love," she murmured the words that someone had written in cursive with a fountain pen. A message from a mysterious admirer had bought her the roses and seemed to be looking forward to them.

She looked at the roses with a smile and went back to her work. But during the remaining hours, her eyes kept going to the roses. The sweet blossoms, the scent that surrounded her, was intoxicating. Intoxicating until she walked out of her office and picked up a single one.

You could make any murder factory more beautiful, which is why she was even happier. ,,Hello, I'm here!" she called into the factory and got a cheerful hello back from Amanda who was working on the bear trap and John already seemed to be making new plans.

She put the rose in a coffee cup and filled it with water and put it on the small table by Amanda's bed. ,,Thank you" the black haired girl said and winked at the older one before Y/n disappeared into the corridors of the factory with a nod.

She looked into a few of the rooms and saw the various torture devices, some still in the middle of finishing work or in the testing phase. But that was not her goal. ,,I hope the stomach doesn't burst open again" she mumbled and could still remember the last time they wanted to place a bomb in one of the victims.

This, however, shortly after a false start led to complications and both died. A mistake that went on the cap of Lawrence and Y/n who had not switched everything on correctly.

Knocking on the door frame of the doctor's room she went in and saw the blond working on a person. He turned to her and seemed to be expecting someone else, but when his bright eyes went to her he smiled.

,,Hello Y/n, good to see you," he said cheerfully, pointing to the instruments he had laid out. She saw how he had already sewn up several wounds and was about to use hoes to probably hang the victim later. ,,A new device?" she asked and put on gloves before she started to hand him the things one by one.

He always gave her a thank you back and they both soon fell into a new conversation topic. She would be lying if she didn't like his calm and friendly manner. The little smile that was on his lips every time he pulled the needle with the thread through the man's skin.

He is always perfectly calm she thought and couldn't help but smile herself. The older one had noticed this and smirked as well, ,,What's so funny?" he wanted to know although they both seemed to know how absurd this all was. Two adults picking at one person.

Until they both burst into giggles and put away their medical tools to calm down. ,,Let's just hope that no-" she was about to continue when Lawrence put down the cutlery and stepped up with his prosthesis.

A mistake, as it turned out, when he drew in the air sharply and the bloody cutlery and tray fell off as he held onto the wall and almost toppled over. ,,Lawrence!" she cried, frightened, and hurried over to him, pushing the victim aside and supporting the blond doctor before taking him to a chair.

With a pained sigh, he tried to find a reasonably comfortable position before she pulled up his pants and looked at the prosthesis. ,,A screw came loose and cut your leg a little...I'll fix it...wait a minute" she said and he couldn't help but smile at her professionalism and caring.

More than once he had let his thoughts wander to her. He knew that his heart was beating for her but he didn't want to press her. Not like Mark.

He approached her and took off his prosthesis - he hadn't used his cane lately. ,,I shouldn't have been so independent of my cane," he said aloud and saw her give him a look of understanding before she came to him with the things.

,,It may have been a while now...but Gordon even I had to get used to my prosthesis," she said cheerfully and he looked at the three fingers of her right hand. Instead of flesh and blood, there was metal and leather and several joints connecting the three fingers.

Mostly, however, she wore a glove to hide the injury, not to mention the relatively large piece of her left ear that was missing after a bullet from a pistol nearly blew it off.

She didn't see the slight redness on his cheeks as she tended to his wounds and the blood. He had winced as she dabbed the disinfectant on the wound. His fingers briefly tightened on her shoulder and she gave him a moment to give himself time.

The position they were in she was kneeling in front of him practically between his legs and the pain stopped paired with her warm soft hands was something that made him draw in his breath sharply.

,,That should do it," she said in conclusion, tightening the bandage before sliding the prosthesis back onto his leg. Suddenly Lawrence's hand touched her cheek and she smelled that sweet smell again.

,,You gave me the roses," she said, and she felt as if someone had removed the board from her head. His smile widened and she felt the gesture of Lawrence pulling her closer. His fingers slid lightly over her body and he touched her gently.

She felt him pull her up, almost onto his lap, and she closed her eyes, hoping for the kiss, when suddenly a loud clearing of the throat was heard. ,,Doctor shouldn't you take care of your patients and let the living ones go?" Mark asked bitingly and gave the blonde a warning look before winking at the younger one and walking back into the hallway.

,,I need your help honey!" he called and she heard Lawrence shake his head in annoyance. ,,Thank you Lawrence" she said hastily and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek and handed him his walking stick before walking behind Mark.

He seemed to have just returned from work, she smelled the smell of his gun, his aftershave and that smug feeling that surrounded him. ,,You can be nicer to him, you know," she reminded him, not liking that they didn't like each other. She knew that if they were going to keep doing this, they had to get along.

As soon as the next game was on, they all had to work together. ,,Don't be so sugar he'll get over it as soon as he can walk again" the brown haired man waved her off and she rolled her eyes as she walked with him to one of the machines.

She knew he had a more than deft hand for the traps. ,,Honey, can you get me the hooks from the main hall?" he asked and was already working on the metal. In answer to his question, she watched him for a moment before she disappeared.

A sigh inevitably escaped her and Amands patted her encouragingly on the shoulder. ,,Don't let it go to your head," she said, and John seemed to rebound from the whole affair.

His own relationship and love had been shattered by it all and the last thing he wanted to do was deal with it. ,,See that you get our new one and the trap ready...I don't want any delays Y/n" he said and she nodded showing him a look in which he let her know that she had finished it. Before the white haired one went back to his work himself. With the target in her hand she returned to the room and paused.

That's extra she thought and saw how the policeman had opened his shirt slightly, rolled up his sleeves and smiled broadly at her. ,,I knew it, good girl" he praised her and she threw him the heels which he found surprisingly good and started to work.

She leaned against the wall giving him new metal from time to time, but most of all she knew how much he enjoyed her looking at him.

How her eyes ran over his body and he was just wallowing in her gaze. After a few more moments of her looking at the trap and Hoffman in particular, he set the welder aside and tapped on the trap. ,,Sit down," he said, tapping the seat of the trap, which she knew could kill someone as soon as it was finished.

Sitting down on the cold metal, she was about to grab the blades when she felt his hand move up her thigh. Leaning against the metal and preventing her from escaping while she did not take her eyes off him.

At least he didn't allow that as he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. ,,You know, I could give you more than the doctor" he whispered to her and she saw how he came closer to her and the kiss seemed inevitable.

Suddenly a cane crashed against the metal of the tubes and he rose from her. ,,You're disturbing, you know that?" came the sarcastic question and Lawrence smirked smugly as Mark moved away from Y/n and grabbed the welder before the three went back into the main room.

But before that she had hastily risen and given Mark a kiss on the cheek as she did with Lawrence, standing in the middle while the two men stared at each other dismissively. ,,John, we're done," she said to the oldest, who nodded contentedly and withdrew.

She seemed to sense what was about to happen, which is why she was grateful that Amanda took her by the hand and the two women retreated together.

Between all that, they both seemed to have found each other the most. The kiss she got at the end of the day from Amanda herself. But the arguing noise could still be heard in the hallways of the factory.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@lola-max-sugar , @megustadilf , @slut4hoffman , @agunislover

#saw movies #saw franchise #saw mark hoffman #mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #lawrence gordon #lawrence gordon x reader #saw lawrenve gordon

117 notes · View notes

canisalbus · 10 months

Note

I realize this might be a slightly odd ask, but… Out of curiosity, what sort of foods do you think Machete would be fond of? And do you think they’d differ noticeably from when he was young vs once he’d grown older?

He's a fussy eater. He rarely eats for pleasure and dislikes being seen dining in company, but attends formal dinners and banquets if invited, since declining without a very good reason would be at best rude and at worst a devastating faux pas. He prefers fowl dishes over red meat and greatly dislikes sea food (which is just peachy since this is the Mediterranean). Pasta seems to be already a well established part of the cuisine at that point, maybe he's into that. For the most of his life he's eaten rather simple foods so he finds bland soups and broths very safe and comforting. Pomegranates are his fruit of choice, he doesn't have much of a sweet tooth but enjoys candied apricots and figs on occasion.

He's exceptionally bad at holding his liquor, and he can't stand the feelings of unpredictability, disorientation, unsafeness and potential loss of control that being intoxicated causes in him. Unfortunately, drinking plain water was very risky and uncommon, it was contaminated and unsanitary more often than not, especially in population centers. Generally the main drinks you'd consume through the day were diluted wine and beer/ale (this was the case for children as well). Machete tends to prefer wine, which he waters down heavily, and sometimes has it flavored with spices, herbs, honey or sugar. Having even a little bit of alcohol in the mix would kill at least a portion of the bacteria (not that the concept was known at the time, people believed many illnesses were caused by tainted air and foul smells, I mean fair enough, if your water is filthy it probably smells bad too).

(Fun fact, apparently Ancient Romans had more or less perfected the art of winemaking but by the Middle Ages a lot of the techniques had been lost. During the Renaissance wine was generally very low quality and the way it was fermented and stored (making the switch from sealed ceramic amphora of the Antiquity to those iconic wooden barrels) meant it would only stay good for a year at best and the taste would start to deteriorate within the first couple of months. Vintage wines weren't a thing, the best stuff was fresh. Apparently European wine was pretty bad for hundreds of years and would only start to improve again around 1800s. Or at least that's what I've gathered, I could be wrong, I'm not a wine expert).

Europe hadn't quite adopted tea yet and he narrowly missed the time coffee began to spread to his corner of the world (I bet he would've loved both of those, with the help of caffeine he could've been twice as much of a jittery sleepless wreck). I've read that people would distill sage and drink the resulting concoction with hot water to create this very tea-like minty drink, that sounds like something he'd like.

#answered #take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar #Machete #every now and then he goes through these bouts of somewhat disordered eating #his brand of self-contempt manifests as severe self-denial and abstinence #sometimes when times are particularly rough he gets into this headspace that he needs to earn the right to eat #either that or he's just so busy and stretched thin he flat out forgets #you should take all the historical tidbits I say with a grain of salt I'm sharing them in good faith because I'm an autistic nerd #but I might be misremembering things or just plainly mistaken so don't think I have any authority or expertise on this stuff

338 notes · View notes

steviewashere · 4 months

Text

Words Like A Bullet, Wounding My Soul

(also on ao3)

This is Part One, Part Two is Posted Here!

CW: Implied/Referenced Sex, Safeword Use (No Smut, Though) Rating: Teen

WC: 2,543

Tags: Post Vecna, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Arguing, Eddie Being Mean, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Emotionally Hurt Steve Harrington, Insecure Eddie Munson, Insecure Steve Harrington, Safeword Use, NO SMUT, Using a Safeword While Arguing, Hard of Hearing Steve Harrington, Dialogue Heavy

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson

----------------- Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington were two forces not to be reckoned with. Everybody knew this. If Eddie was snippy and rough and loud—then people zipped their lips, threw away the key, and sat on their hands. If Steve was cold and distant and biting with every word—then the others knew to be warm and inviting and leave the past in the past.

These were known facts.

It was also known that Eddie and Steve were a pair. They were gentle with each other and all soft and gooey around the edges. Often, they'd circulate each other in public—skimming fingertips over backs of hands, sharing straws because somebody "forgot" to grab another—or behind the privacy of closed doors—entangled on the couch during movie nights and washing dishes after large dinners and exchanging quiet glances that everyone knew meant, "Horny and Impatient."

But they definitely knew how to choke each other out. Insecurities ran deep and were easy to point out. Like mold on bread slices.

So it makes perfect senes that they constantly argued, too. Usually mundane situations. Things like: "Ugh, Steve! It's my turn to choose what we watch, enough with the basketball!" and "Eddie, stop leaving your dishes strewn about!" and "No, I'll pick up everybody and drop them off!" Though, these were quickly resolved. A deep breath taken, a compromise made, and a few warm pecks exchanged.

However, on a slow Thursday evening in the middle of November, things go haywire.

They've been neck at neck for hours. Biting back and forth about the usual. The dishes. Your sports game. No, I'll do this. No, I can do it. Yet, everything comes crashing down the moment Eddie says:

"God, you're being so stupid!" Shouted and spitting. He's red faced and wild. His body lanky and petrifying the way a molten skeleton in some very graphic thriller movie would be.

Steve stops where he's been pacing in the living room. Now glancing back over to Eddie on the couch. "What?" he asks in a quiet, shaking voice. He doesn't remember anything about the argument, but he can definitely hear the way Eddie's voice echoes now. Doesn't know where the snarky remarks were going, how they dissolved now into this.

This being the two of them several feet apart in the same room. Not looking at each other, trying to find the most convenient and decorated corner of the Harrington's living room. Spitting and biting and growling.

"You're being so stupid!" Eddie shouts again. "I feel like every time I try to explain something to you, I'm just talking to a brick wall! Do you even listen to me? Or are you just a fucking space cadet all the time?" He runs a frustrated hand down his face, pulling at his features exaggeratingly. "For once, I wish you'd listen to me, just once!"

There's a tense moment where Steve just stands rigid and Eddie must take this as some sort of confirmation. Because he hefts himself up from the couch and makes his way around the coffee table to where Steve is just standing. A bony finger stabs into Steve's chest. Eddie closes in, voice low and husky. Face centimeters away, eyes lit with ingenuine mirth and teeth glinting in the shape of fangs. "See?" he questions lowly. "Can't even fucking give me an answer."

And something finally wakes up in Steve. He takes a wobbling step back, feeling cold air rush around him. "Wh-what? Of course I listen to you. I just—"

"You just what?" Eddie raises. His voice itching to be loud and louder. "You just listen to what you want to hear? Want me to call you pretty names and tell you how good you are and how excited I am to see you?" he taunts. "But when it's something I care about—"

Steve flinches at his wording.

"—when it's something I care about, you just can't bother," Eddie growls. "If it isn't fascinating to you, then you just tune me out. Your brain fucking implodes and shrivels back down to being jock sized and empty." He takes a hefty step forward, once again in Steve's orbit. A palm raises in Steve's line of sight, it shoves hard at his chest. Not sending him to the floor, but stumbling enough that he wheezes from the impact.

Eddie moves again to try it once more, to make Steve feel small.

But, Steve sidesteps him. "That's not true," he tries to argue, but it sounds too soft and tiny to be anything. "You were talking about D&D and I tried to follow along, but you know how I am with that stuff. It doesn't—"

"It doesn't connect," Eddie mocks. "Fuck you, Harrington. I've heard that a million times before and each one of those times, I've explained this shit to you. Over and over and—"

"Fuck me?! Fuck you, Eddie!" Save finally screams back. "Do you even hear yourself right now? You're being such an asshole, you know how I am with being called du—"

Eddie scoffs. "Oh, so for years, you and your little pack of high school bullies can mock me for shit. Call me names. Toss me around. And the one time I finally call you out on this, it's suddenly too much?!" he roars. "You're so—" He grunts, groans, screams nearly.

"Stop, Eddie," Steve demands. Tome firm first.

But Eddie barrels on anyway. "You're such a dick. You think everything revolves around you. You don't care for anything I have to say. You—"

"Stop," Steve pleads.

"You don't really care for anybody around you, do you?" he questions darkly. "'Just wanted to help,' my ass. Just wanted to clear your name, more like. Am I right? And now you're just stuck here, fucking jumping to whatever conclusions you want, following the wording you want to hear—"

"Red!" Steve screams. "Red, red, red!" he shouts before turning towards the couch and sitting down heavily. Head in his hands, fingers pulling at the hair around his ears. His throat feels like it's on fire and his head is pounding and there's definitely tears threatening to pour from his eyes. Peeking between the gap of his palms, the carpet is a mirage of blended colors, not a single one making a complete picture. But he can't look up from it. Not after having to practically safeword out of an argument.

Eddie is now startled into silence. His body turns to face his boyfriend. Where he sits, shaking and choking on quiet sobs. There's a brief moment where Eddie can literally feel his heart parachute to his stomach. Can hear the sizzling of his organ and the rush of his own blood. He's never heard Steve get loud like this. Usually he's so quiet and pensive and passive aggressive, but this, this is a new side. And Eddie doesn't like it at all.

It was common between them to try new things out and see what pleasure can be derived. And if things were taken too far or something immediately felt off-putting or terrible, they were allowed to exit the scene at any time. The stoplight system. Their shared word being "Asparagus." Things that could easily be heard and shut down everything at once, forcing them into a gentle lull where they share whispered praises and warm compliments and careful touches with a soft rag or just fingers.

So it's not unusual for Eddie to hear it. He's had to comfort Steve after a few scenes. And Steve's done the same for him.

What gets him is the context now. How tense the room feels, like walking into an already heated up sauna. Like walking into a hot tub set to one thousand degrees, in nothing—absolutely nothing.

And even though they’re fighting, Eddie’s immediate care kicks into overdrive. He forces his body to skitter over to the couch, plop down by Steve’s side, and reach out to rub a palm over his back. But when his skin makes contact, Steve flinches away.

“Don’t fucking touch me right now,” he growls. And when his eyes look deep into Eddie’s, there’s something tragic there. “You—You don’t get to say shit like that to me and then try to—Try to,” he chokes. A sob caught between a gag and a phlegm cough cracks open from his chest. “I don’t understand what I did wrong,” he cries out.

Eddie is once again quiet, keeping his hands to himself. Running them nervously over his thighs. It takes everything in him to not reach out and scoop Steve up and run fingers through his hair. He swallows and breathes. Opting to not respond. Maybe this will teach him to shut his mouth, for once.

Steve cries loud and harsh. And Eddie bears witness to it all. The contortion of his body, the reddening of his skin, the pulling of his hair, especially the wailing that’s spilling from his closing throat.

“I was listening,” Steve hiccups. “I was, I swear. I didn’t—“ His breath stutters through his next inhale. Lip sucking inwards when he does attempt a deep breath; it’s not like it lasts, merely only sitting in his lungs for three seconds before punching back between them. “I couldn’t hear you!” He exclaims.

There’s no residual anger in Steve’s tone, though Eddie thinks there should be. God, he feels like a pile of shit just for the way Steve is holding himself right now. How his body is giving up on him. The way he continues to writhe through each stabbing cough and sob and gag and—He just feels like shit.

Though, alarms are going off in Eddie’s head. What Steve just said, that doesn’t make any sense. They were facing each other. They were sitting only two inches apart, practically every open area of skin clinging to one another. For a moment, Eddie once again feels anger spike through him. But the other part of him is overcome with deep concern, rippling in his blood, pouring out in the way his eyes widen and his eyebrows furrow and his mouth shifts downturned.

“You couldn’t hear me?” He parrots.

Steve nods his head. A bobblehead who’s spring is wound too loose, head flopping almost over its shoulders. “I—I was going to tell you, I swear. But I—You were talking and talking and I couldn’t read your lips because that’s really hard and you talk super fast and when you talk fast you mumble and—“ He gags. Slams his back behind into the couch, head dropping over the curved edge. He blinks rapidly, swallows so aggressive that his Adam’s apple appears to be plunging from behind his tongue. A deep breath, short lived. Two more deep breaths and they wheeze through him, but it must be enough because he carries on. “And then you got mad and you were so mean and I swear I was listening, I was interested, I just didn’t understand. And you get so tired of having to reexplain things that I didn’t want to ask and then you got even more mad and now—I was listening, I swear!” He cries out once more.

In response, Eddie’s jaw is dropped slack. He couldn’t hear me, he realizes. Genuinely, really.Scrambling, he whispers, “And I got mad and I called you stupid and then…” And then he called red, you idiot, Eddie self-chastises.

God, he is really a steaming back of flaming dog shit.

Taking another breath, Steve exhales with, “I was listening.” He tilts his head to look directly at Eddie. Eyes open and pleading. Begging to be understood. “I’m losing my hearing, Eds. I was going to tell you, but I didn’t—I didn’t get the chance. And then you were—“

“I was being mean. I was being an asshole. I wasn’t listening to you,” Eddie lists off. “I was doing the things that I accused you of,” he realizes.

Steve nods against the back of the couch. Blinking and blinking and swallowing and trembling.

“Oh my god, you couldn’t hear me, you couldn’t understand me,” Eddie whispers. Suddenly, he shoots upwards. Nearly startling Steve into another frantic round of panic. “How long, Steve?”

“Since March,” Steve admits, almost shamefully. “My head slammed into the wall inside of the Creel house and I ended up with another concussion. And that was the start of it,” he elaborates. “It’s just been going from there.”

As he talks, Eddie begins to silently cry. And when Steve’s done, Eddie sobs.

“And this entire time…Oh my god,” he mumbles. “Oh my god,” he repeats. Choking through his next breath. “Baby—“ Steve perks up at that. “—Baby why didn’t you mention this earlier?”

Steve shrugs. “Everybody else had it worse off. It didn’t seem important.” He sniffs. “Guess now it kind of is though, right?” A humorless chuckle. “If that’s how you’ve been thinking of me.”

Damn him, Eddie thinks. Damn him and stu—and his unnecessary self-sacrificial nature. “Sweetheart, you’re not stupid. I swear, you’re not stupid. Steve, you are one of the most intelligent people I have ever had the fortune of coming across. You know just what to say, when to say it. You’ve got that interest in classic literature, which I fucking adore by the way. And you know almost too much about any sport in the world. That’s—Your sport stuff is like D&D for me.

“God, you’re not stupid. Not by a mile. I just—I’ve always been treated like shit for the things I like. And I know that’s not an excuse, it’s just the way I’ve had to adapt and grow, y’know?” He asks rhetorically. “If I got defensive and angry and vicious, then people left me alone. And I could enjoy my stuff in peace. But when I tried to share the things I liked, people were fast to tune me out and shrug me off.” Eddie slowly inches in again, gauging Steve’s reaction. When he doesn’t flinch, but instead moves close, Eddie shoves a hand into the back of his hair and slings his other arm over Steve’s lap. Thumb rubbing at Steve’s denim thigh. He says, “You’ve never been stupid. I just thought you didn’t care. Nobody has ever cared about me the way you care about me, I swear it.”

Steve nuzzles in closer. He breathes against Eddie’s neck. Murmurs, “Everything you like is special to me. And I want to be able to understand. I’m trying.”

“I know baby, I see that now,” Eddie whispers. “I’m so sorry for the way I treated you previously and today. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

He squeezes Steve tighter. An attempt to meld their bodies into one.

“I love you so much, Steve. We’re going to figure something out. Learn a language or raise some money for a hearing aid, whatever you want.”

Against Eddie’s chest, Steve nods. “I love you too,” he whispers. Presses a kiss over Eddie’s left pec. “You’re gonna have to show me though.”

“Whatever you fucking want, Steve. You can have anything you want from me.” And he can feel the smirk against his neck. But Eddie is willing and able to give. “Take anything you want from me.”

----------------- Part Two is Here!

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #angst and hurt/comfort #arguments and making up #arguments #hard of hearing steve harrington #established relationship

57 notes · View notes

maniculum · 6 months

Text

Meadmaking

Hey all, Zoe here - the other half of this blog, and I decided to try my hand at posting - particularly my little mead-making project. Even though Mac is the medieval drinks expert, I just like mead as a drink and I feel like a potion-brewing witch when I make it. Beer was the more popular drink during the middle ages, as it was cheaper and more widely available, but I think it's nasty and who doesn't want to feel like Early English royalty?

As I dug into mead-making, I fell into a SUPER deep medieval-mead-making rabbit hole. I'm not a mead expert, and I'd highly recommend Susan Varberg's blog, Medieval Mead & Beer, for a very, very in-depth look at how to make medieval mead. HOWEVER, all that said, I did collect some research and played with it myself. Plus, I made some of my own recipes.

So. Mead. What is it? Fermented honey water, in its most basic form. Honey-wine, it can be called to those who aren't familiar. There's a lot of other names mead has when it's mixed with other things:

Mead – water, honey and yeast

Sack Mead – mead made with extra honey

Short Mead – low honey and low alcohol yeast to be drunk quickly

Hydromel – watered down mead (in period, another word for mead)

Braggot – (period) ale refermented with honey; (modern) malted mead

Melomel – mead made with fruit

Mulsum – mead made with fruit

Cyser – mead made with apples

Metheglin – mead with spices

Pyment, Clar – mead made with grape juice

Hippocras – spiced wine, sweetened (but not fermented) with honey

Botchet — caramelized honey mead

Really, though, when you see it on the shelf, a pumpkin melomel will be marketed as "Pumpkin Mead," so really only the brewmasters get into the weeds on the names. I was really curious as to how the ingredients were sourced in the middle ages - nowadays, brewers get really into where they source their ingredients (there's a bazillion different yeasts you can use!), but after doing some research, turns out the medievals were too!

Honey.

The medievals categorized honey in different ways. The best quality honey was called "life honey" and was the honey that dripped freely from the wax when pierced. Grades of honey diminished as the honey became harder to get out of the hive. The dregs of honey (collected by heating the frame in water to blend the honey but not melt the wax) was given to servants and was not preferred. Honey was also categorized by location - Egyptian honeys were very popular and expensive. Honey from different regions in Spain were considered of different quality - one merchant got particularly fussy when one of his batches was "spoiled" by mixing honey from a better region with that from a worse region. Finally, honey was categorized by flower type. One monetary requested honey made only from lavender. Since hives were highly mobile frames or skeps, it would have been possible for apiarists to move their hives to lavender fields.

Water.

Water is, well, water. Right? Not quite. Medieval recipes do specify using fine, spring water. The water and honey were often boiled together - likely to kill bacteria. However, the wording on "boille" is not super clear. Mead-masters knew that honey shouldn't be boiled (it kills natural yeast), so whether or not the must (the water/honey mix) was boiled in the modern sense or just warmed is unclear. Perhaps the need for "fine, spring, fresh water."

Yeast.

While modern brewers and vintners have a wide variety of yeasts to choose from, medieval brewmasters didn't have as many options. There were a few different options, however. Baking yeast (like a sourdough starter) was one option, while other recipes call for the leftover lees of wine/mead batches. Hops were also used. Of course, yeast is also naturally occurring, so brewers could fairly reliably rely on the natural yeast to kick-start itself.

I'll dump my own mead pics here and then get into the details of a Middle English mead recipe in part two, I guess. I'll talk a bit about the mead-making process, too. Mead is made by mixing honey and water into a must. Then, yeast is added. Modern mead-makers also add yeast nutrients and other additions to ensure their batch doesn't get infected.

A newly made bottle of mead. Notice the cloudy colour characteristic of new mead. As the yeast eats the sugars, they'll create a bottom layer of debris and the mead will clear, as seen below.

After the primary fermentation has occurred (you can tell when the bubbles of gas, telling you the yeast is eating, have stopped), mead-makers will re-reack their mead. This involves moving it from one jug to the next.

At this point, the mead can be put into a closet and age for a while. The best meads have high clarity - that is, they're clear! The example below is only about 2 months old. It has a way to go, but has good clarity already. Notably, the sagas state that the best, oldest, clearest meads were served to Odin and the gods.

Anyway - that's the basics of mead-making. I'll make a part two about older recipes! Sources:

Beekeeping in late medieval Europe: A survey of its ecological settings and social impacts. Llu.s SALES I FAVÀ, Alexandra SAPOZNIK y Mark WHELAN

Trade, taste and ecology: honey in late medieval Europe. Alexandra Sapoznik, Lluís Sales i Favà & Mark Whelan

Of Boyling and Seething: A re-evaluation of these common cooking terms in connection with brewing. Susan Verberg.

#bees #beekeeping #mead #mead-making #mediveal #medieval literature #witches #cottagecore #potions #i feel like a witch #maniculum

122 notes · View notes

taddymason · 13 days

Note

What do you think about S6 Jay? I've always felt conflicted about his character due to this season, (but that comes from the fact that Skybound is a total mess). I didn't like how he used his wishes to impress Nya so she would date him. It annoyed me that he kept making decisions that wronged his friends because he couldn't let go of the idea she didn't want a relationship with him. I'm conscious this is the consequence of the messy love triangle from season 3, but it would've been nice to see Jay growing up from his relationship with Nya. (And if the writers were so desperate to make Jay and Nya endgame, at least they could've shown us Jay apologizing for everything he did during the season (lying to his friends, not accepting her refusal). They could've shown us Nya bring up the love triangle, and why she went for Cole when she was with Jay. You know, resolve the problems in their relationship and the things each of them did).

But no, they show us Jay making his final wish: "I wish you had taken my hand, and no one ever found that teapot in the first place". That decision feels like he hasn't progressed about his relationship with Nya from the start of the season. At the beginning of Skybound, she clarifies she doesn't want to be with him, so why would Jay wish she had taken his hand? Like, she's dying, and he's still thinking about that moment. What the hell? There were so many ways that scene could've gone, instead of Jay making her do something against her will. (Kind of? I think that depends on the interpretation of each person).

On the other hand, I didn't like how Nya's feelings were handled. One of the main problems her character had to face in season 6 was feeling she wasn't able to choose her destiny. She found out she was destined to be with Jay, and Nadakhan was forcing her to be with him. She literally said she felt that her whole life had been defined by other people, rather than by herself. However, at the end of the season, Jay wishes she had done what she didn't want to do at first.

I don't know, Skybound feels like an amount of missed opportunities for Nya's and Jay's character development.

Oh, skybound. skybound.

This season is a disaster for me and probably the season I feel the most conflicted about.

Overall I think most of the characters this season are pretty ooc. From Cole making sexist jokes for no reason, to Lloyd remaining strangely quiet throughout the EP5 conflict, to Jay throwing his own friends' security out the window to be with Nya. NOT EVEN S3 JAY (which was also a low point) WAS LIKE THIS. Even with all of his insecurities or rivalry with him, as soon as the situation demanded it or Cole was in danger (S3EP9) Jay could focus on what was at stake.

Instead, for some reason during the middle of the season Jay is EXTREMELY desperate to be with Nya to the point that he doesn't even care about his own team.

Look, I don't even mind that they make a season where Jay is an asshole and has to confront the consequences of his actions to learn to be more mature and aware of what he does (most of my fics are like that anyway). Do they want to do a season where Jay lies until his mistakes blow up in his face and where his selfishness is finally tested? I'm on board. If there is something that makes him such an interesting character, it's his flaws. Jay is selfish, he lies very often, he is opportunistic, and that makes his arcs so different from everyone else's.

Now, I hate that this is all solely because of his obsession with Nya. I've said it before but the worst thing about Jaya is when she becomes Jay's only motivation and interest to do everything he does. The season punishes Jay for resorting to wishes, not for continuing to believe that he has the right to be with Nya as if it were a necessity for him. The moral of the season shouldn't be "if you wish something enough, you'll find a way to make it happen" but; you don't need to be with someone else to be happy. Jay doesn't have to depend on Nya for his own happiness, and the season surprisingly never says otherwise.

From start to the ending, Nya remains Jay's final motivation. Literally her final wish is him imposing her will on her again (I know the wish supposedly didn't affect Nya but I think it's a mistake to make a character's wishes remain static from the beginning to the end of history).

so basically the season is a bunch of wasted potential that could have been a really good season to develop both characters. There are good things in S6, I'm not going to deny it. Jay from EP6 onwards has some pretty good moments, like him learning to be a leader, showing that he is a capable and intelligent member who ends up motivating others (Jay inspiring people is a rant for another day). And it's probably the most seriously the show takes his character.

I think the season would be better if it ended up addressing other things as well. There are many hints of Jay feeling worthless, Jay being insecure because he is poor/weak, believing he needs to be with Nya to be happy. And the season doesn't do much with this anyway. So, wouldn't it be better if the season wasn't Jay and Nya getting back together, but rather Jay realizing his own worth as a person? What if Jay resorts to wishes because he doesn't feel valuable as a member of the team? because he starts to believe that Nya is a better blue ninja than him? Or because his powers begin to fail and weaken as he is not maintaining his true potential by allowing himself to be consumed by his own insecurities? There are MANY ways to resolve this conflict without having Nya come back to him as some kind of prize.

...This is spoilers for my Skybound rewrite btw

but yeah, I agree with everything you say, Jay and Nya deserved better this season and I think what affected it the most was making the ending have to be these two getting back together with just ONE episode of them speaking sincerely

Sorry for the long post, Ty for the ask! ^^

#jay ninjago #ninjago #jay walker #ninjago jay #Ninjago Skybound #Ninjago Skybound AU #ninjago analysis

36 notes · View notes

mx-julien · 16 days

Text

each ninja was a different kind of teacher (except Lloyd who basically went on a year long press tour) and it also explains why Rebooted and after they seem a bit more responsible than in season 1 and the pilot

Cole has my favorite teacher characterization because he's objectively an interesting person with cool hobbies but when he is responsible for a group of children he just becomes Dad Who Is Helping Out At The Summer Camp. we never see his classroom, but given his proficiency in the arts we can assume he's the English teacher

since he went to art schools, he's probably not used to kids who aren't actually interested in what's being taught. the louder kids seem to dislike him (ref: running gag of "Mr Cole is the worst"), but that doesn't mean he's necessarily a bad teacher- just not one to humor pranks

also his and Kai's teacher outfits belong in the 1970s. I like the touch of making their ties the same color as their gis

little bit of meta: most of the people who worked on this show went to school in the 80s/90s so to them "older/boring" teacher outfits would look like this. also, as someone who was in the intended age range and saw it at the time of release, this sort of clothing conveyed that the ninja were doing a stuffy adult job- juxtaposed with their colorful gis

Kai appears to be the history teacher? his teaching style is likely structured and straightforward. given his nontraditional childhood, his frustration with the kids likely comes from both his jealousy that they aren't aware of how valuable schooling is and that Nya was much easier to work with when she was their age. at the end of the day he's an older brother who's now in charge of a bunch of kids

he's using an old-fashioned projector with film, which I assume (1) shows how low-budget they are, (2) emphasizes that Kai is out of his element (pun not intended), and (3) juxtaposes them with New Ninjago City

Zane is the one who doesn't know what a vape pen looks like but will listen to you infodump for an hour after class, then drive/walk you home because you missed the bus. he probably doesn't get any of the classroom humor or notice if the kids make fun of him. I can't imagine him ever getting angry at the kids, and he probably is very good at keeping them to a routine and a schedule

in rebooted episode 1 he seems to be teaching science? and the use of catapults is actually quite endearing- he's probably explaining tension and going to get his kids to make little models, which shows that he both is a pretty good teacher and hasn't realized that giving elementary/middle/primary schoolers their own catapults will only lead to chaos

he and Jay have personality-based outfits, with the snowflakes being an obvious allusion to Zane's element and the zig zags on Jay's emulating lightning

the little bowtie on Zane reminds me of Bill Nye the Science Guy (program with a a host of the same name who taught kids about science in a fun and accessibly way- very nostalgic for kids who went to american public school)

Jay is the exhausted teacher who's more interested in his hobbies than class material, and if you get him talking about that hobby, he won't stop until the bell. as a jokester, I think he'd get along well with the kids and definitely encourage them to annoy the other ninja

we don't see his classroom, but given Jay's skills he's probably the math teacher. he'd have a difficult time explaining things in different ways- very gifted people who learn well on their own often find it hard to teach things to others, though he would make sure he doesn't leave anyone behind

Nya definitely teaches math classes, but she probably handles tutoring as well since she's well-balanced in most subjects. it would also give her an intelligence network- kids come to her room after class/during lunch to complain and gossip. she uses it in the noble pursuit to antagonize the others

i'm used this video and the ninjago wikia because I'm on mobile and finding other sources would've taken too long

extra group photo I found! love the detail that Zane blinked (Dr Julien probably took the photo)

#wu does all the admin i'm sure #ninjago #lego ninjago #zane julien #cole brookstone #nya smith #kai smith #jay walker #ninjago rebooted #ninjago darkleys #darkleys kids #ids in alt #image ids #ninjago headcanons

49 notes · View notes

undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

Text

Welcome to Moon Siren Horticulture! - Morpheus x Witch!Reader

[MASTERLIST] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

SUMMARY: Running a plant shop known among deities and occultists just can not be a simple job. One day, the strangest client shows up looking for a remedy for a curse.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.5k

Dirty hands, strong smells that gave you a perpetual migraine, cuts from thorns all over your hands - running a horticulture store was a physically demanding job that became only more challenging when one considered a clientele of occultists, deities and pure madmen. The other side of the coin was the curious and hardly practical methods of payment you so often received like phoenix feathers, dragon scales, mermaid tears or sasquatch fur (you were never quite convinced about the authenticity of that one). Despite having no use for them, you had kept the strange artefacts patrons of the store had given you. It seemed like the more responsible thing to do rather than abandon them in the middle of nowhere for regular people to find.

The doorbell rang when you were repotting some plants. A heavy sigh left your lips - you didn’t want to leave your little maintenance task unfinished but you knew better than to make deities o cultists wait. As you had learned quite early on, sacrifices made one quite impatient if not entitled.

“Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be back in a bit,” you said to the plant. The stems and leaves waved in a disturbingly intelligent manner as though they had a mind of their own.

Rushing through the spacious greenhouse, you were frantically wiping your dirty hands on the thick apron you wore to work, although the dirt under your fingernails seemed humorously unimportant when it came to the entirety of your appearance - no matter how clean your hands could be, dust and leaves were still in your hair and your clothes reeked of nitrophosphate. Despite being unpleasant, you had a burning suspicion that it only added to your ‘strange plant expert’ image.

The man at the counter appeared about as bizarre as he looked charming. His dark hair was dishevelled as though he had only just woken up from a deep slumber. The black coat, if the night sky could ever be sawn into a garment, stood in contrast to his pasty skin. The stranger was quite thin, making his head look disproportionately big compared to the rest of his body. His protruding cheekbones contributed to his already quite strict demeanour. A raven’s croak resounded in the small shopping area of your store.

"Welcome to the Moon Siren Horticulture!” you exclaimed with a smile known only to people who had worked retail at least once in their life. “How can I help you?"

His glistening eyes of deep blue, a starry sky reflecting in a raging sea, stared at you with a disturbing lack of emotion. "I wish to lift a curse,” he said in a low voice. Paradoxically, the brooding ones were generally more pleasant than the giddy ones - mainly because they had a tendency to keep their thoughts to themselves.

"Of course, sir but I must ask: are you sure it's a curse?” you asked him in the most polite tone you could muster. Gods were often proud but rarely were they bright.

"Do not question me,” he warned you slowly.

Without a falter in your polite smile, you continued your inquiry: "Then tell me about this curse."

“A young boy,” he began in a breathy, low voice, “who’s neither asleep nor awake. He can not eat or drink and yet his body withers. His mind resides between life and death, inside a void between realms.”

You nodded to yourself. "Yes, I'm afraid it is a curse. A minor one, more of a hex but on a child nonetheless…” A shudder run through your body as you felt your skin crawl. "I’m sorry for being impolite. You have no idea how many old deities come through this door every day and talk about curses when they mean a common cold. Apparently, when people stop worshipping gods, the gods begin to lose their holy powers and need to wear scarves during colder months. Who would have thought?"

The sound of talons clicking against a clay pot swayed your attention. Looking away from the brooding patron, you saw the raven nip at a bell-shaped indigo flower with a golden stalk. The moment its beak touched the petals, the bird croaked loudly and jumped away from the plant.

"That's a Gilded Dendra, very poisonous. Turns your blood black. A truly horrible way to die,” you warned him. Disappearing into the greenhouse in the back of the store, you added: “You don't want to touch it, little friend!"

“Little friend? I’m kind of offended but I kind of like it,” Matthew bemurmured. “Hey, what’s a ‘moon siren’?” he asked loudly, partially expecting Morpheus to be the one who answers him.

“It’s not anything in particular,” you called back from the greenhouse. Grabbing the right pot, you were making your way back to the front of the store: “My grandfather was a sailor and had a tattoo of a siren sitting on a moon on his forearm. His wife, my grandmother, absolutely despised that tattoo, so when he passed away, she renamed the store in his memory.”

The clay pot settled on the counter with a muffled thud.

“What about this one?” the raven croaked. He was sitting on a branch of a small tree, or a big bush, with round, gold-coloured berries that looked a little too shiny and metallic to be considered ingestible. “Death by ambrosia?”

“This is Amberberry, safe to eat. It tastes like beetroot and honey. Some say they can also taste mint. Go on, have a few.” Your shoulders shrugged with disinterest. It was safe to say that working at a store that was fairly popular among the strange and divine, you were quite used to the ruckus. Redirecting your attention back to the strict-faced man, you presented him the plant you had just brought: "Long Verecund, Humilus Proceria. Often called Witch's Remedy. I’m sorry but I have to ask: have you ever prepared a cure for a curse?"

The flower generally looked like a rare specimen of a lady bell: small, lilac petals growing along a thin, long stem. Among all the other fragrances drifting through the air of the store, including the stench of nitrophosphate that stuck to your skin, it was virtually impossible to smell the faint, sweet aroma of the plant unless one had their nose right up against the lilac flowers.

He didn’t answer you - simply stared at you in anticipation. “It’s not complicated,” you gave him a nervous laugh. To be fair, you weren’t sure why exactly you were tense: was it because his ambiguously inhuman appearance had an odd charm to it or because his apparent lack of emotions made you unsure what reaction action to expect from him? “You need to grind two parts petals to one part moon water, bring to a simmer and keep slowly mixing until it's a smooth paste. The remedy should be either ingested or used as an ointment.” Here you made a small pause, for a moment pondering whether it wasn’t rude to inquire about the boy. But the image of a child being eaten away by a slow, malicious curse made your stomach churn and your sympathetic heart yearned to know more. “Who’s he to you? If I may ask?”

“An opportunity to pay off a very old debt,” the stranger answered. His response came off as assertive but not yet crude. “Name your price, witch.” For some reason, the title came out of his mouth dripping with venom as though the sole motion of his tongue pronouncing that word made him disgusted.

“I can’t take anything in return,” you said while shaking your head. “I don’t want to. The boy’s well-being is good enough for me.”

“I did not ask if you had a price. I asked what it was.”

Surprised, you lifted your eyebrows - he had to be the very first client that insisted on paying. “What do you think this flower is worth?”

“I’m not knowledgeable in plant maintenance.”

“You misunderstood me, sir. This Long Verecund, what is it worth to you? How much does it matter whether you have it or not?”

The stranger reached inside his coat. As though he had been prepared for your wish of strange currencies, he revealed… a snowglobe? It was a small trinket, couldn’t be taller than 7 centimetres. Once the golden sand, a curious element in a snow globe, settled, a statuette of a siren sitting on a moon was visible inside the sphere. It looked like something straight out of a souvenir shop but at the same time, it was strangely personal and thoughtful. He put the item on the counter before quietly saying: “The nightmares brought by the plant shall not bother you anymore.”

You furrowed your eyebrows feeling an odd sense of dread appear in your stomach. How on Earth did he know about Widow’s Woe?

The doorbell rang again as the man opened the door. The bright sound pulled you out of your own bewilderment. “Sir?” you called out to him before he could leave your store for good. Morpheus looked at you over his shoulder, silently awaiting whatever it was you needed to tell him. “I wish you all the best. I really do.”

“Thank you.”

Part of you wished he’d swing by again but maybe not because of cursed children that time.

____

I played "Strange Horticulture" and absolutely loved it. A chill game with plants and achievements for petting a cute black cat? Hell yeah!!

188 notes · View notes

dephellseed · 10 months

Text

I could share my works in progress and all the the things i'm working on related to those things or I can throw out cute headcannons and I think I have a preference so here are all the cute sleepy headcannons I've got

Heralds Sleepy Headcannons

John gets whiney when he's sleepy. Borderline nonsensical in speech as he gets more tired, his voice goes up a little bit and his old southern accent starts to slip out. Once actually convinced to go to bed, he isn't exactly a peaceful sleeper. He tosses and turns a little bit unless he's holding something (or someone) and he mumbles in his sleep. He can and will get mad at you about something you did in his dream.

How Jacob sleeps is entirely dependent on whether or not someone reads to him or helps soothe him to sleep. He refuses to admit he's tired if he's in the middle of doing something, but it takes a while to catch the little warning signs of his for when he's gone too long between siestas. He talks less, stares off into space, kind of agitated. Generally though, unlike John, he doesn't need to be convinced to go to bed. He's actually an adult about his sleep schedule, mainly because he's learned to value every second of sleep he gets. When soothed, he sleeps like a log, unmoving and peaceful. He snores, but its not very loud. Its more like a low rumbling you can't really hear unless you lay your head on his chest. Left to his own sleep care, he thrashes in his sleep. He mumbles borderline incoherent statements about whatever nightmare is plaguing him, and his prone to sleep walking. He's been a sleep walker since he was little, but it got better as he got older, only to return full force once his time in the service was over. Their mother use to say he was a "walker and a screamer," so at least he doesn't scream anymore. It is very rare that during a nightmare he ever gets physically violent or acts out the actions in his dreams, but it has happened before. As such, he's very hesitant to let people around him when he's tired or near him when he's sleeping.

Joseph sleeps flat on his back with his arms crossed over his chest. Always has. Everyone thinks its weird, but he doesn't get it. He also sleeps fully clothed, which he also doesn't understand why people say is weird. His visions often plague him in his sleep, so he does actively sleep talk. It is rather common for people who sleep in the same room as him to be able to have complete conversations with him while he's asleep, only for him to not remember them when he wakes up. When sleeping in a bed with someone else, he prefers to be the little spoon.

Faith is a very light sleeper, something she attributes to her "sinful past." Every small noise from the creak of a floorboard to someone she breathing differently than normal wakes her. Once woken up, she has a very difficult time going back to sleep. Fortunately for her, Bliss tends to make people very sleepy. She's a professional napper at this point. Sleeping through the night might not be easy but there's plenty of quiet, secluded places to get an hour or two throughout the day. Generally a rather fidgety person, the only time she's ever truly still is when she's asleep.

Assorted Guns For Hire and Side Character Sleepy Headcannons

Sharky snores like a freight train. Saws logs like nobody's business. Very avid cuddler, but if he's holding you when he falls asleep? Good luck getting out of that death grip, babe.

Pastor Jerome sleep preaches. He mumbles whatever sermon he was planning before bed in his sleep. He thinks people are joking when they tell him about it. They really aren't.

Kim swears up and down that Nick snores loud enough to send her to the couch most nights. He claims this is blasphemy. She laughs about it.

If you thought Adelaide was loud when she's awake, you should try sleeping in a house with her. While her snoring is sporadic, it is very loud. Xander will try to convince you it's cute.

#far cry 5 #far cry five #joseph seed #john seed #jacob seed #faith seed #sharky boshaw #nick rye #pastor jerome #adalaide #more headcanons #soft n sweet #eden's gate

109 notes · View notes

storiesbyrhi · 2 years

Note

I had an idea for a little blurb or one shot, what if there reader is always known for wearing long sleeves and like she’s never seen without them to the point where there’s crazy rumours and reasons people have come up with as to why.

And one day Eddie decides to ask her, and she just takes off her cardigan and she’s wearing a short sleeve underneath and she just has full on tattoo sleeves. So eddie literally just melts for her on the spot.

Hello, friend! Thank you for being my first anonymous requester/prompter. Appreciate it. I hope you like this. It got a little more angsty than I planned, but maybe it's a vibe? xo Rhi

Warnings: mention of self-harm cuts/scars - mind and not at all the focus of the fic; reference to bullying; drug use; no beta (and I'm shitty at proofreading)

Drabble 001 1566 words

“Maybe it's some sort of like, skin condition?” Dustin offered, still knowing the pain of appearing different.

“Where’s your imagination, Henderson?” Jeff asked. “Scars, all the way up her arms, like from doing witchcraft or whatever,”

“Witchcraft?”

“You mean like the cult stuff Hellfire does?” Gareth chimed in, causing most of the boys to laugh. Even Eddie snorted a little.

Yeah, it was a double standard alright. The boys at the table were the first to be picked on for standing out, or trying to fit in, or doing anything at all really. The irony of them watching as you sat by yourself in the far corner of the cafeteria, adding to the already wild echoes of gossip that sounded out wherever you went, was not lost on Eddie.

That’s not to say he didn’t glance over at you, wondering what had changed.

Last year he was meant to graduate and so were you. You’d shared classes, small talk, and a joint every now and then, but he fully expected to never see you again after graduation. Then, you disappeared before the final few weeks of the school year. You were M.I.A. during exams. People thought maybe you’d just skipped out on school and Hawkins entirely.

But, there you were, repeating your Senior year, keeping to yourself like your life depended on it, and the icing on this mystery cake – the length of your sleeves. Rain, hail, or blistering heat, your sleeves would be to your wrists.

Of all the things to think are weird about someone, this was incredibly low on Eddie’s list, if it made it at all. There were logical reasons anyway. When he traveled to the city to see a show, he'd met kids with cuts and scars hidden beneath bracelets and bandages. Maybe whatever caused you to miss the end of last year was fucked up. He couldn’t and wouldn’t judge you for that. Maybe you had converted to a religion that changed how you wanted to dress. Again, Eddie wouldn’t judge you for that.

Really, he wouldn’t have noticed or cared at all, if it wasn’t you.

You, who he remembered from Middle School. You said you thought his act in the talent show was cool, and he’d look even more like a rock star if he let his hair grow long and wild like the thrash metal bands he worshipped.

You, who refused to take discounts on weed just because Eddie offered them. “Call it: supporting local businesses,” you’d laugh, leaving him with his thoughts of you.

You, who would often sit in a way that meant Eddie could copy your answers on maths tests.

You, who he hadn’t spoken to in months, but still occupied a great deal of his mind’s time.

“You sound like a bunch of prissy school girls with all this gossip. What you really should be talkin’ about, is how you’re gonna survive the Cult of Vecna,” Eddie posed to the table, punctuating his statement by throwing peanuts at Jeff.

He dared another quick look over at you and froze when his gaze met yours. Before you could look away, he offered you a smile. Genuine. Warm. Hopefully – inviting. You blinked back at him, not scowling or rolling your eyes, just… confused, maybe.

Two days later, Eddie was spending his Saturday night alone in the trailer. Wayne was at work. Gareth’s house was plagued with interstate family, so band practice was canceled. He didn’t mind, though. It had been a while since he’d just done fuck all.

With rented videos stacked and ready, Eddie packed a bowl and started to watch Fright Night. He was only about ten minutes in before a loud knock on the trailer door made him jump.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he mumbled, glad nobody was there to see him almost piss himself.

He crossed the small space, poising to hear a neighbour talk shit about another neighbour and ‘tell ya uncle, would’ya’ and ‘get a haircut’ and endless trailer park bullshit he could not care less about. As he opened the door though, he stood up straight.

When he said your name, you looked up at him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Ah, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I just, ah. Do you… Are you still…”

Eddie knew this line of unfinished questioning. “Selling? Yeah. Sure. Come in.”

You stepped up into the trailer, let Eddie close the door behind you. He made no motion to move or say anything. He was just looking at you, a little disbelief in his eyes.

“What do you need? I’m not fully stocked, but if your tastes haven’t changed we should be good,” Eddie said, trying his best to be polite. No, not polite. Kind. Friendly. A friend.

“Yeah, man. You still do pre-rolls?”

“Let me look. Um, take a seat, if you want. Do you want a drink or anything?” he offered, walking backwards towards his room but listening carefully to your reply. You shook your head at him.

In his room, Eddie found no pre-rolls, but there were the means to make them. He came back out to the lounge, plonked himself down next to you on the couch.

“You got some time? I can roll them for you now,”

“You don’t-”

Eddie stopped you by speaking your name. You looked at him. “It’s fine. Let me.”

You nodded, sat back into the couch more.

Eddie started Fright Night again and you half watched it, half observed how skilled Eddie was. His fingers worked fast, neatly. Nothing went to waste.

“So, um, this is a bit out of the way?” Eddie asked. “I mean, if you weren’t sure I was holding,”

“Um. Yeah. Nah. I live here now,” you told him.

“Oh. Cool. That’s cool. So, we’re neighbours?”

“Looks that way,” you confirmed, just grateful he didn’t ask why you had moved from your uptown house to good old Forest Hills.

The conversation paused there, not resuming until Eddie asked if you wanted four, like you used to. He wrapped them in saran wrap and handed them over, swapping you for cash.

Eddie hoped you’d sit for a bit, but you immediately stood and walked to the door.

“Thanks,” you said, turning.

“Wait!” Eddie called, unable to stop himself. You looked at him, your bottom lip sucked in and nervous energy radiating off you. “I, ah… I don’t… know what happened. If something did happen. Or whatever. But if you need anything at all… I’m here, you know?”

You hesitated for a second, then nodded. It wasn’t enough for him. He continued, “Because I liked that we were friends. We were friends, right? And we should be. Now. We have a lot in common. Actually,”

“You mean we both live in a trailer park and are repeating our senior year?” you asked deadpan.

It threw Eddie. For a second, he thought he’d upset you, but then he noticed you weren’t moving to leave anymore. “Yeah… And, we both like… weed… and horror… and there’s gotta be other things, right?”

You studied his face. Eddie had grown up a lot in the years you’d been a nameless moon, orbiting his bright planet. He’d grown into a beautiful person. And it wasn’t just the big brown eyes. He was kind, sweet. You’d seen how he’d adopted all the freak freshmen, taking them under his wing and offering a level of notoriety that meant protection.

“You want to be my friend?” you asked him.

“Yeah. I do,” he answered confidently, puffing his chest out a little.

“You’re not just like, fishing for information? Wanna know where I went?”

Eddie was a little hurt you’d think that about him, but he could see you were more hurt. He shook his head, said as softly as he could, “I kinda just miss you.”

And there it was. It broke you just a bit. You’d missed him too. You missed any semblance of normality. You sighed and stepped close to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. Eddie made a surprised little ‘oh’ sound but quickly wrapped his arms around you, squeezing tight. He waited until you stepped away first, not wanting to spook you.

“So, Fright Night?” you asked, moving back to the couch, casually lifting the knitted jumper you were wearing over your head, throwing it aside.

Eddie’s jaw fell slack. Your back was to him, but you wore only a tank top, and the colours and patterns all up your arms were so vivid. Covered in bright illustrations, you were a walking piece of art. He’d managed to close his mouth and follow you to the couch by the time you sat down.

He sat next to you, turning his attention back to the film, scared to even look at you. There was a smirk on your face as you noticed how still Eddie had gone.

“If you let me share a bowl, I’ll let you ask about the tattoos,” you said.

“Oh, thank FUCK,” he breathed out. “You’ve always been cute, but, ah, Jesus…”

You laughed at him, a proper laugh, one that sounded unfamiliar to you. Eddie had grabbed your arms and was studying the tattoos so closely you thought maybe he was trying to commit them to memory. He looked at you, those goddamn big puppy dog eyes.

“I really fucking missed you,” he whispered. “And I’m glad you’re here.”

#Mine #Drabble #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson Drabble #Rhi Drabble

407 notes · View notes

vilandel · 1 month

Text

Black Clover Next Generation III ♣️💘

Family Tree of House Vermillion

Fire Vermillions

Plant Vermillions

I've already talked a bit about Mimosas and Langris children here, so I won't go too much into details yet (that will be for the profiles).

Just so you know, Kirsch is actually an excellent uncle and to Mimosas surprise, well loved by her children. He also became an uncle for Finrals and Finesses children.

As for the Fire Vermillions, Esclarmonde and Yogan are the oldest of their generation.

Yogan is the only son of Mereoleona and Yosuga (their marriage/bond/whatever is rather special in many ways I'm still figuring it out^^'). He is actually as calm as his parents are wild.

Yosuga and Mereoleona can have their most fierce, devastating battle training and he can just sit unbothered in the middle of it with a book.

Just so you know, he is very powerful magic-wise, in fact he is double as powerful as his parents... Him being such a calm boy was a relief for EVERYONE. Yogan also gets along great with his uncle Fuegoleon.

Yogans birth is quite the story, because Mereoleona was fighting an herd of powerful Magic Beasts and some renegade noble bandits WHILE giving birth to her son. Come on, this is Mereo, of course she would give birth during a battle or something.

His parents are still very proud of him.

Esclarmonde is the calmest one of her siblings. She has a romantic soul and the story of her parents underlines this trait even more.

She also wants one day to become Wizard Queen, learns and trains hard for that. This includes also doing charities and learning no-magic first aid. Plans already to make this a basis for Magic Knights training and has talks with her father about it. She and Fuegoleon are really close, a true Father-Daughter trust.

Is determined to join the Crimson Lion Kings and also to become their captain one day.

Orion is wilder than his older sister, but still calm. Let's say that he is calm but with passion.

Doesn't talk much, but shows more. Not very stoic, though, as he smiles often.

Aliénor is much younger than her siblings, another kind of surprise child.

Personality-wise, she is like auntie Mereo.

Leopolds wife is another OC of mine (I'll made a profile one day for her). To sum up, Venus is a peasant, a member of the Green Praying Mantises and rather crazy (she can cut with her Foam Magic).

Their daughter Eleonora is as loud and wild as her parents. She has a soft spot for volcanos, much to auntie Mereos delight.

Their son Espumaleon is practically the shy baby. Was very sick when he was a baby, so his parents are protective about him and his big sister even more.

Unlike Eleonora, Espumaleon prefers calm and fluffy places, especially with pillows and blankets. Or a bubble bath. He also doesn't want to become a Magic Knight.

Yogan as straight and long dark red hair, which he usually wears in a low pony tail, his mother's blue eyes with the Vermillion red eyeliner and he has powerful Lava Magic (Don't make him angry, as he doesn't yell, remains calm but his lava quickly runs wild).

Esclarmonde, Orion and Aliénor have all their mother's nacreous eyes and their father's red Vermillion eyeliner. Esclarmonde has wavy waist-long hair, red has Fuegoleon's and also has inherited her father's Fire Magic. Orion has dark purple hair like his mother, but shoulder length and soft just like his father, he also got Litals Star Magic. Aliénor has a wide curly mane like her mother, the color is a redish purple (a mix of her parents hair colors) and got Seafire Magic, a powerful one at that. Noelle one day almost got a heart-attack when little Aliénor accidentally put her Sea Dragon's Roar on fire^^'

Eleonora has long and slightly curly red hair, her mother's jade green eyes, with typical Vermillion eyeliner and got her father's Fire Magic. Espumaleon has black hair like his mother, grass green eyes and red eyeliners from his father, with Venus' Foam Magic.

7 notes · View notes

mysteryshoptls · 10 months

Text

SR Vil Schoenheit Lab Coat Personal Story: Part 1

"More accurate than any scale"

Part 1 (Part 2)

[Laboratory]

Vil: How nice of the Science Club advisor to share with us some of the laboratory potions.

Vil: Are you actually behaving yourself during your club activities, Rook?

Rook: They quickly agreed when I said that I wished to help the Film Research Club on crafting potions for special effects.

Rook: However, they did instruct me to submit a full report on the list of chemicals as well as the formulas they were used in, the time spent in the lab, and what our safety precautions will be.

Vil: Aha, see, the professor is being extra cautious! You must be your usual carefree self while at club, then.

Vil: Well then, now that we've gone through the trouble of reserving this lab, let us begin so as to not waste any more time.

Vil: Where are those potions we were going to use… Ah, found it.

Vil: If we mix in a spoonful of this with some colored water…

Rook: Oho! Out came black smoke! Are we done already?

Vil: The color is a little different than what I was hoping. I need something that is a little darker… Like a black that is impossible to see on a dark night.

Vil: I'll up the dosage. This time, I'll put in a little more than a spoonful…

Rook: Hm. It became a little darker, but is that it?

Vil: It's middling. This time, it's got a tinge of blue. Perhaps the colored water is the issue here…

Rook: Once the cameras are rolling, will it make that much of a difference?

Vil: Don't ever recommend that I should compromise on something that I will be showing to the masses. And smoke is a substance that will take up most of the scene, you know.

Vil: It will all be for nothing if I cannot create a color that will emphasize the costumes and the actors' face, hair, and eyes.

Vil: And to avoid that, I'm certain that I will need to continue to make slight adjustments. …How about this time?

Vil: …Yes, this is a good black.

Vil: Now that the smoke has been created, our next film will be practically perfect.

Rook: Oh, even though you yourself are not ready?

Vil: …What did you say?

Rook: When do you intend on going on a diet?

Rook: Vil, you've put on some weight over the last three days Your jawline has completely changed.

Vil: Wha… That's not possible.

Vil: I haven't done anything unhealthy, and none of my 5 million plus Magicam follower have said anything.

Vil: More importantly, I have not sensed anything out of place with my reflection when I look in the mirror.

Rook: Aah, but Roi du Poison. Who do you trust, me or anyone else?

Rook: I say this often, but the time I spent gazing at you is much longer than the time you spend looking at yourself in the mirror.

Rook: Trust me on this, if nothing else.

Vil: …I understand. I shall take your advice to heart.

Rook: Oh, I must leave you now. It's time for some very important field work I still have to do.

Vil: Ah, wait! …He just spouted that and immediately left.

Vil: Well, since the smoke is done, I suppose I'll clean everything up and return to the dorm.

[Exterior Hallway]

Vil: I need to hurry back to the dorm and weigh myself on my scale.

Trey: Hm…? Oh, this is rare to bump into you here, Vil. Did you have some business in the lab?

Trey: I thought there were private laboratories in the Pomefiore basement...

Vil: Oh, Trey. No, today was an exception. There were specific concoctions that I needed from the school's laboratory.

Vil: I was running low on potions to create smoke, but then Rook said that there was a single bottle left in the school's laboratory.

Vil: Does everyone in the Science Club have all of the chemicals and potions that are in the laboratory memorized?

Trey: Nah, Rook's the only one who's that knowledgeable there. I only can remember the stuff that I've personally used.

Trey: That guy's pretty good at remembering a ton of strange things, yeah?

Vil: That's true… Like people's jawlines.

Trey: Jawlines...?

Vil: Ah, no, don't mind me.

Trey: Oh hey, I just remembered. You and Rook don't dislike sweet things, right?

Trey: So, I actually have some leftover cake. I made one too many cakes for Riddle's snack time.

Trey: That's why I'm in the middle of trying to find people to share it with.

Vil: No wonder you're wandering around carrying that… Do you have the cake with you inside that box?

Trey: Yeah. I'm telling you, this one came out really good. See, look how fresh and delicious the strawberries look.

Vil: They really do. But I'm fine. I just started dieting right now.

Vil: So, go on and let Rook have two pieces!

Trey: Sounds like something happened between you two… Well, I feel like I can pretty much figure out what.

Trey: Well, hey, Vil, if you've got time, why don't you come by Heartslabyul?

Trey: I just got my hands on some tasty herbal tea, so I can treat you to some.

Vil: Herbal tea, hm… Does it have lemongrass in it?

Trey: Yeah, pretty sure.

Vil: Then sure, I'll have some. As long as it has a detoxifying effect, then it's perfect.

Part 1 (Part 2)

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #vil schoenheit #trey clover #rook hunt #twst vil #twst trey #twst rook #twst translation #mention: riddle

29 notes · View notes