#I can’t tell if I hate or tolerate this art

[cozy-axolotl]

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Anyone else pathologically avoid interacting with any art other than your own as a kid because you felt jealousy for others’ success so intensely it registered as physical pain?

[rhyrhy]

Venom in the veins 🕸️

Spider!Ellie x Fem Villain reader

✦ Synopsis: When trust is broken, and alliances shift. Your local friendly neighborhood spiderwoman! is forced to choose between her love and loyalty!

✦ Warnings: enemies to lovers to enemies..? Angst, violence, death/grief , language, romantic tension, familial issues. 5k words.

A/n: thank you to @s0phi3w4lt3n , because their lovely brain is helping make this possible. This is chapters 1-2. (3-7 will be separate posts!) + Ellie’s suit desc is based off this beautiful art!

October 5th

I guess I finally understand what it means to wear the weight of something bigger than yourself.

Nobody tells you how lonely this gets. They say it’s a responsibility. A privilege. But nobody warns you about the nights when your body’s so sore you can’t move, or when you have to smile at people who would hate you if they knew the whole truth.

And the worst part? I should’ve seen it coming.

I should’ve known the second I woke up with a spider bite the size of a penny and a bad feeling in my gut.

But I was just a dumb kid clinging to Joel’s leg in the ER, sure I was about to drop dead…

Being a hero wasn’t as simple as they made it look in the comics she read. It wasn’t just about the mask—it was about juggling the power, the responsibility, and the weight of knowing that, at any moment, everything could come crashing down.

And in the end? It was always a game of masks. Who’s hiding behind them, and who’s fooling who?

Ellie wasn’t the best at keeping secrets.

Especially not when she had a spider bite the , wrapped in white gauze and held together with SpongeBob bandages that did little to ease her nerves. Her pain tolerance wasn’t exactly low, but weren’t black widows deadly? She could still feel the long-gone venom burning in her bloodstream—or maybe she just thought she did.

“Joel, I’m too young to die!” A younger Ellie whined, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clung to his leg.

“You aren’t dying. They said you’ll be sore at most.” He sighed, patting her head.

“Dramatic” wasn’t the word he’d use to describe the distraught figure clinging to him like she truly believed her life depended on it. Eleanor “Ellie” Anna Williams, at the ripe age of twelve, gave her adoptive father more wrinkles than he could count.

This time, it wasn’t a scraped knee from wobbly attempts at skateboarding, or a burn on her forearm from trying to make him breakfast. It was a spider bite. She didn’t get a good look when she flung her head after the sting set in, but she was almost certain what that eight-legged creature was that had crept onto her hand while she doodled on her notebook in science class.

She rambled about it the whole way from the school’s nursing office to the emergency room. Not even the radio could drown out the frantic girl, who loved all things nature—as long as it wasn’t trying to kill her. She’d just learned to use a training bra. She couldn’t die now.

“I’m not?” she said, her green watery eyes looking up at him.

“No. Weren’t you listening to what the nice lady said? The one in blue scrubs?”

To be honest, she wasn’t. However, she did remember the woman he was referring to—and the way she made her heart race. Even now, as a young adult, Ellie would bring her up when questioned about her gay awakening.

“You’re goin’ to be fine kiddo” He bent down to her level, his Texan accent dragging out his “n”s.

Comforting her had become something Joel mastered over the years. Trying to navigate Ellie’s spectrum between smart mouth and nervous breakdowns wasn’t easy for a man in his early thirties. But he’d found a way to wedge himself somewhere right in the middle—right where she needed him.

If there was one thing Ellie learned quickly, it was that Joel knew best. With legs full of scars and scrapes and a pair of worn-out Converse that Joel begged her to throw away, Eleanor—who preferred just ‘Ellie’—skated into her high school years.

Going from Little Orphan Annie, which she hated when assholes at school called her that, to your average teenager in the big city of Seattle, everything was completely normal.

Except it wasn’t. At all.

In fact, nothing about Ellie was normal. But the unusual started small—extremely small—and Ellie didn’t know any better. At first, she thought it was just the weed she smoked with Jesse still messing with her system.

Because ever since that fateful day in seventh grade, weird, borderline supernatural things had started happening.

She couldn’t tell you exactly how it all started—at least, not without cringing through the many, many journals she kept as a teenager—but somewhere in the mess of scribbled notes and half-finished sketches, there was an entry about a joke gone wrong.

One night, on a dare to see how long she could hold a handstand, Ellie found herself upside down—only she wasn’t just balancing. She was walking. On her ceiling.

The next morning, she convinced herself it was just some weird, half-awake dream. But when she tried it again—yeah, no. She wasn’t dreaming.

“Holy shit!” she blurted out, stumbling back to the ground.

“Language!” Joel’s voice rang out from the living room, blissfully unaware of the very sticky situation unfolding just a few feet away.

Ellie swallowed, staring at her feet. “Holy shit…” she whispered again, this time to herself.

For a while, she tried to ignore it. Between figuring out her sexuality and preparing for an upcoming science fair, she had enough on her plate. So when weird things happened—like catching something mid-fall way too fast or feeling vibrations through the walls—she brushed it off.

But the signs were getting harder to ignore. Especially when she asked Riley if she could hear that sound���

—and Riley just stared at her.

“Hear what?” Riley asked, setting up their volcano project.

“That—” Ellie waved her hand vaguely. “You seriously don’t hear it?”

Riley squinted. “Williams, I love you, but you have absolutely lost it.”

Ellie would’ve argued back, but the sound was coming from three tables down.

“Booger-eater James?” Riley snorted, nodding toward the kid hunched over a glass box of spiders. Not sure how that was science experiment. “He’s just standing there. With his creepy crawlers. I pray for him once we hit eleventh grade—he’s never getting a girlfriend.”

Panic set in—sudden and overwhelming—as her mind spiraled. Was this some weird side effect of the bite? Or was it something worse? She thought about her biological family, about the things she didn’t know, about the one thing she did worry about when it came to her health.

These were crazy person signs, right? Or worse—crazy person genes running through her blood. Torn between telling a school counselor or just locking herself in the bathroom to cry, Ellie excused herself from Riley and approached the table. But the closer she got, the louder the sound became. A crawling, chittering hum that made her stomach flip.

There was no way she was communicating with something that had more than two eyes and eight legs. An arachnid, for crying out loud.

Don’t get her wrong, Ellie loved science. But people who claimed this kind of stuff? They got laughed out of programs. Stripped of titles, accreditations. Blacklisted. Snow White talking to animals was one thing. A teenage girl talking to spiders? That was an entirely different planet.

But the more she thought about it… the more it made sense.

The heightened senses. The weird reflexes. And that bite mark—the one she was so sure would scar? It was completely gone the next morning when her bandage fell off in the shower.

What started as a sneaking suspicion was quickly turning into a daunting realization.

Ellie tried to ignore it. She really, really did.

For the next few weeks, she chalked it up to stress, exhaustion, anything that made more sense than the alternative. But the signs weren’t stopping. If anything, they were getting worse.

The way her body moved before she even had time to think. The way she could feel things that weren’t there—like the vibrations of footsteps before someone entered a room. The way her grip had changed—how she accidentally shattered a glass one night at dinner, how the basketball stuck to her hand a second too long in gym class.

She stopped journaling about it. She stopped mentioning it to Riley. But she couldn’t stop thinking about it. this was so , so much worse than the time she wasn’t allowed to leave the dinner table until she finished her brussels sprouts.

And that was how she found herself standing in front of her bedroom window one night, hoodie zipped up, black Converse laced tight.

Sneaking out wasn’t new to her. She’d done it before. Skating out to meet Jesse, tagging walls in alleyways. But this?

This wasn’t just sneaking out.

That night, she got her first real taste of herself without the skintight suit she now wears like a badge.

Little did she know at the time, how important that near miss would be.

“Glad nobody saw that.” An embarrassed Ellie giggled to herself, standing to her feet after stumbling for the hundredth time.

Parkour always seemed a little odd to her—she preferred her guitar or a late-night reading session, but those seemed to lay still on her bookshelf nowadays. I mean, who wanted to potentially hurt themselves running along buildings, jumping from concrete to concrete, brick to brick? Short answer: she did.

Long answer: the stairwell right behind her apartment building, leading to the city’s rooftops. Mariano’s, her favorite pizza joint that always closed way too early in her opinion, the old library that closed down only to be replaced a few doors down, and the laundromat. Dusting off her jeans, she’d do this for what felt like hours.

The back and forth would make normal civilians sick—feet swollen to hell. But for Ellie, after a fight with Joel about curfew or an unnecessarily long school day, as soon as the sun set, this was her heaven.

She wasn’t normal. She’d established that a long time ago. But it’s not like she could exactly tell people she could do these kinds of things. They’d look at her the way Riley did. A FYI, she was so right about James—after graduation, he still never got a girlfriend.

Ellie, on the other hand, had quite a few up until graduation.

A shared kiss with Riley, a faded stick-and-poke cat the girl in her art class gave her, and her unforgettable first time with the first girl she could truly say she loved: Dina.

To say “fair share” was a bit of an understatement. It was more about quality than quantity. Her building real connections, some still lingering around. Some took the high road, choosing to stay the bitter ex. But Ellie didn’t see it like that. She appreciated the good and the bad, even if she did have to get a real tattoo over that stick-and-poke cat.

But times like these, where she let her feet carry her across the city, were when she was allowed to forget about all that, leave it in the past where it belonged, and focus on the future. But even with her tassel turned, she always found herself in that alleyway, climbing up that same fire escape to get to the roof.

The city lights below flickered like distant stars. So many people, but none of them knew her name. Maybe that was for the best. In this city, the only person Ellie needed to be was herself.

The wind against her skin felt sharper tonight, like she could almost taste the city’s pulse. A distant car honked, but she didn’t hear it the same way anymore. It was all part of the rhythm, the energy that seemed to flow through her, the way the rooftops called her to them.

For now, the rooftops were hers. But she knew, deep down, that wouldn’t last forever. Heroes, villains—one day, someone would come looking for her. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe.

Freshly graduated, Ellie was hanging out with friends at her favorite pizza joint, the smell of pepperoni filling the air, and the sound of laughter ringing in her ears. It was one of those normal, relaxed nights. nothing out of the ordinary. Or at least, it didn’t seem that way at first.

But when a hooded figure paced back and forth in front of their table for the fourth time, Ellie couldn’t help but feel a cold chill run down her spine. Her green eyes snapped to the sound, hands slowly lowering the slice of pizza she’d been about to take a bite of.

“That young man stole my purse!” A woman’s voice broke through the hum of the restaurant, her trembling hands pointing toward the culprit.

Ellie’s green gaze snapped to the man now hurrying down the sidewalk, his steps quick, his movements too frantic. The adrenaline surged through her as she pushed her chair back and stood, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the glass door. She didn’t wear her mask yet, but the sensation of needing to act was unmistakable.

She couldn’t just let it go.

The man was fast, but he wasn’t fast enough. Ellie darted into the street, weaving between pedestrians like a blur, the sound of her footsteps muffled by the city’s noise. When she reached him, she tackled him with everything she had, the force knocking the purse out of his hand and sending him stumbling backward.

He didn’t stick around to fight back. In a flash, he bolted, disappearing into the shadows before Ellie could react.

She stood there, chest heaving as she clutched the purse in her hands. The woman, now catching up to her, approached with wide eyes.

“You got it back!” The woman gasped, her voice thick with relief.

Ellie smiled awkwardly, handing the purse back to her. “I… I guess I did.” Heart still racing.

Before she could say more, the woman pulled her into a tight hug. Ellie froze, not knowing what to do. She had no idea this small act of kindness would cause a strange warmth to spread through her chest.

“Thank you,” the woman whispered. “I don’t know what I would’ve done…”

Ellie gently pulled back, her heart still racing. She was pretty sure she was just a regular girl, with no superpowers or any big secret to her name. But in that moment, the feeling of doing the right thing—of helping someone in need—felt bigger than anything she’d ever experienced. Maybe she was crazy. But a little bit of crazy could do good.

And Ellie? She loved justice.

“Bullshit. No way you tackled him like that.” Abby’s voice rang out, interrupting Ellie’s storytelling.

“Alright, maybe I exaggerated a little bit, but I’m telling you, I kicked ass.” Ellie laughed, holding the door open for the tall blonde.

“Uh huh. Sure, Williams.” Abby huffed, walking past her into the bookstore. The familiar chime of the doorbell rang out above them, a small sound that felt like a second home.

Ellie inhaled deeply, taking in the comforting smell of ink and crisp pages being turned. She loved it here, more than the silly pictures of cats online, which, in the Williams world, meant a lot.

Abby, tall and always a step ahead in the teasing department, fell into step beside her. One of the few friends Ellie could confide in. Even if that came with endless ribbing. Ellie could admit that she’d told the “first save” story a million times, but it was one of the few she could tell without giving herself away—without breaking her promise. The promise she made to herself when she officially earned her title as ‘hero.’

But here, in the bookstore, she could nerd out all she wanted. No secrets to hide, no need to pretend. She could throw in the subtle bragging without fear of it getting back to the wrong people.

Ellie wasn’t a huge talker. She preferred humming to herself or getting lost in her own thoughts. As she scrolled past the comic book section, her fingers brushing against the glossy covers of vibrant colors and bubble letters, she was suddenly back in time. A place of nostalgia. Staying up way past her bedtime, reading comics under the covers with a trusty red flashlight.

When the small tv in the corner of the store caught her attention. A new report, crime in the city’s streets. detailing the latest wave of crime sweeping through the city. From petty purse snatching to stolen identities—and sometimes, even lives. It was all too familiar.

“This just in: Another robbery in the city’s streets. Police are still on the lookout for the suspect,” the newscaster announced.

She hated it, the fear in people’s eyes. The feeling of a warm blanket being ripped off all because a few people probably weren’t hugged enough as kids. If anybody knew a rough childhood, it was Ellie, and what she didn’t do was use that and take it out on the world. The last thing she expected years from this moment is trying to be understanding with the one who did.

If anyone knew a rough childhood, it was Ellie. But she didn’t use that as an excuse to lash out at the world.

In fact, the last thing she ever expected, years from this moment, was to try and understand the person behind the violence.

“Jesus, this city’s falling apart,” Abby muttered, her eyes still glued to the screen. “Where are the cops when you need them?”

It made her sick. The injustice. The feeling of helplessness.

“Sometimes, people just need to learn the world doesn’t owe them anything,”

Abby looked over at her, but Ellie kept her eyes on the chaos. The sirens were already wailing in the distance, but they’d never get there in time—not when the damage had already been done. And when the cops finally showed up. Just yellow police, tape and tears.

“Scary, huh?” Abby said, standing beside her, arms crossed. She shot a glance at the scene before turning back to Ellie. “Where are the cops when you need them?”

Ellie scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, they always show up too late. After the damage’s already done. It’s like they just don’t care enough to stop it before it gets out of hand. Makes you wonder if anyone’s actually doing anything about it.”

Abby sighed in agreement. “Someone should.”

Ellie’s mind wandered then, as it often did in moments like this. She’d seen it all too many times—the heroes who talked big but never seemed to get things done. But the ones who really caught her attention were the ones who operated in the shadows. The ones who didn’t care about fame or recognition.

Her thoughts drifted to The Phantom—a mysterious figure who’d been cleaning up the streets for years. Nobody knew their true identity, and that was the way they liked it. No flashy costumes, no headlines, just quiet, effective justice. They worked in the shadows, out of sight, but the results spoke for themselves.

“Maybe someone like that could show up,” Ellie murmured. “Someone who teaches people the lesson that their actions have consequences. Not just words, but real, lasting consequences.”

Abby raised an eyebrow, casting her a sideways glance. “Wait, are you seriously saying you’d want to be like them? A shadowy figure, handing out justice however you see fit?”

“Maybe. I mean, someone has to.”

And someone did. She did, she had to. things quickly escalated from saving purses to kittens out of trees you name it Ellie was there.

So what about the fabric hung deep in her closet. The one she mentions hundreds of times in her journals throughout the years.

Well, It wasn’t like she had a fancy suit. No, Ellie had to make do. Her costume came from a combination of chance and necessity. Absolutely one of those “it just happened” moments that ended up being so much more.

It started with a hand-me-down.

After one night where she barely managed to escape with a bruised arm and a scraped knee, Ellie found herself on the edge of the city. In a forgotten corner of a local alley, tucked behind an old, unused storage unit, Ellie found a discarded suit. It was a mix of gray, black, and green fabric—more rugged than sleek, a little worn out, but something about it screamed potential. Her hand reached out for it, like she could feel the joy she’d bring with it on her skin.

fit like a second skin. It didn’t stand out too much, which was good; Ellie didn’t want to draw attention, not yet. The colors worked too—gray for blending in, black for stealth, and green because… well, why not? It matched her eyes.

One afternoon, Ellie had found herself standing outside a local store, looking out over the city, when a voice caught her attention. It was a soft voice, one that belonged to a little girl.

“How’d you get up there? You move like a spider.”

Ellie smiled beneath her mask, thinking about the first time she made the jump to scale a building. She was very clumsy, but she’d learned quickly. It was funny, she hadn’t really thought much about it until now. A spider… That’s what had started this whole thing.

The bite she thought would kill her.

“What’s your name, hero?” the little girl asked, her wide eyes.

Ellie hesitated. A name?… A spider? This was a loaded question. But That’s what they called her, wasn’t it? She was just some kid trying to do right by the world.

“Spider… uh… girl… woman!” She blurted out, almost embarrassed. Hoping it sounded cool, so in the moment, she went with it.

“Spider Woman. Yeah, that’s it.”

She didn’t mind the title. It was fitting, simple.

Spider-woman. Silly, right? It sounded like something out of the DC Comics stacked in her room. And she loved it.

The name was sung like gospel on the news, printed in bold ink for those who still bothered with newspapers.

On one channel, a reporter stood in front of a cityscape, microphone in hand.

“The masked vigilante, called ‘Spider-Woman’ by the public, continues to stir-up debate. Some call her a hero, while others question if she’s just another masked threat. We hit the streets of Seattle to hear what the people really have to say.”

Cop, off duty: “Look, I don’t make the rules, but I do enforce them. Vigilante or not, she’s got a record, and that means trouble.”

Masked kid in a homemade costume: “She’s like, a ninja or something! I think she’s cool!”

Teen girl with dyed hair: “She’s kind of badass, not gonna lie.” She shrugged.

younger woman with a toddler: “Are you kidding? She’s the only one out here actually doing something! You ever had a gun in your face? ‘Cause I have. If she’s around, I know I’m making it home.”

The tv Cuts back to the news anchor at the desk, straightening their papers.

“You heard it here folks! Love her or hate her, one thing’s for sure. she’s out there. And she’s just getting started.” The news reporter finished.

But every hero had their villain.

And Ellie? She was crushing on hers.

With Brown hair tied back, wheels skimming smoothly across the pavement. No suit today, just a hoodie and jeans, her usual off-duty attire. As a creature of habit, she skated her way to the bookstore like clockwork, the same route.

Had she finished the last two comics she bought? Absolutely. A little faster than intended. But a five-minute ride was nothing for a girl who spent most of her nights swinging across the city, trying to do right by the world. In her own way.

The streets of downtown Seattle buzzed with life, familiar shop signs blurring past her periphery—the record store with the neon “Vinyl Lives” sign, the café that always smelled like burnt coffee, and the corner thrift shop with racks of clothes spilling onto the sidewalk.

Then—“Shit—!”

Ellie barely had time to swerve, nearly colliding with someone standing dead center in her path.

“Sorry!” she called over her shoulder, skidding to a halt a few feet away.

The person barely reacted. Headphones on, phone in hand, just a slight jerk of the shoulder to let her pass. like they’d done it a thousand times.

Ellie shot them one last glance, catching just a flicker of their face. The shape of their eyes, the calm in their posture despite the near collision. No sense of surprise, Weird. Most people flinched.

Shaking it off, she kicked forward again, hitting the sidewalk with a small exhale. Board tucked under her arm, she pulled open the door to the bookstore, the familiar jingle of the bell bringing an easy grin to her face.

“Like clockwork. You are so predictable, Williams,” Josh, the store clerk, greeted from behind the counter.

“What can I say?” Ellie shrugged, stepping inside. “When you’re a comic book connoisseur—”

“—It becomes a lifestyle,” Josh finished, smirking. “Indeed you are.”

Ellie chuckled, already making her way toward the shelves, completely unaware that the person she nearly crashed into was about to become a permanent part of her life.

She just didn’t know it yet. And neither did you.

Just few moments before …

“What an idiot,” a deep voice muttered, entering the back alley. Away from prying eyes.

You rolled your eyes, arms crossed as you leaned against the brick wall beside him. “She was skating. God, do you ever lighten—”

His hand landed on your shoulder, fingers pressing just enough to remind you. Not a threat. Not yet.

Your mouth shut. Swallowing your retort.

He exhaled through his nose, slow and measured. Thinking. Shit. Your gut told you to argue, to roll your shoulders back and step away. But you didn’t.

She wasn’t. You knew that. But your world didn’t allow second guesses.

Unlike Ellie, there were no scraped knees followed by fatherly reassurances. No kissing boo-boos, no gentle words. Hell, in your world, mistakes didn’t just hurt. They burned.

And the man towering over you now, eyes sharp as a blade’s, wasn’t the type to let things slide. The city dubbed him Red Hand, a name spoken in hushed whispers.

But you just settled for—

“Will you relax, old man? I get it.” You scoffed, swatting his hand away.

Old man. Boss. Everything but Dad. He didn’t deserve that title. Maybe once, when you were too young to know better. But now? Now, you couldn’t remember the last time you saw anything close to affection in his eyes. Sure, you’d hear a gruff, “You did good, kid,” now and then—but only after running his errands. Only when you were useful.

That’s how this started. You don’t grow a hatred for the world overnight. It’s molded into you when you’re most likely to sponge it all up. Seeing people for what they really are, learning early that it’s survival, not love.

Your real parents? Nothing but a shadow of the past. A blanket. A half-hearted note. A promise that you’d be “taken care of.” Not loved. Not held. Just… handled.

And he did. In his way. He didn’t mark your growth on a doorframe. He didn’t pack lunches with little notes that said, “Have a great day, love you.”

No, that was too soft. The Red Hand was feared. With just a snap of his fingers, his problems were taken care of—no questions asked.

At first, you weren’t sure who they were—the ones who carried out his orders, the ones who came and went like shadows. Or why he always denied your late-night tea parties with Mr. Bear.

One eye missing. Fur worn and faded from too many hugs. The first toy he’d ever bought you. Well, stolen. But it was a gift nonetheless.

You used to crack your bedroom door open at night, small fingers barely making a sound as you peeked through the gap. Trying to make out the hushed conversations happening just a few feet away.

Never catching much. But it was whispered for a reason. And even as a kid, you knew better than to ask.

Then came second grade. You walked through the door with puffy eyes and a fresh bruise on your cheek. He barely looked up from his paper as he slid an ice pack across the table.

“And did you hit them back?”

Your small legs dangled off the couch as you shook your head. “No…”

The paper rustled as he set it down, finally looking at you. “C’mere, kid. Let me show you something.”

And he did. With careful, practiced movements, he taught you where to aim. How to make it count. Jabs, punches.

“Those little shits won’t bug you too much after this.”

You learned quickly. Not just how to hit, but when. Where. How to read a room. How to never show weakness.

Because in his world? Weakness was a death sentence.

So no, there were no bedtime stories. No reassurances whispered into your hair. Just lessons. And you learned them all. After all, it paid to be useful. Even if that meant the occasional run to the principal’s office

The city doesn’t care. People don’t care. They’re too busy fighting to stay on top. So why bother trying to be something else? Why bother saving anyone when they’ll just let you down? He’d shown you what the world truly was. A place where you had to take what you wanted.

A place where you had to survive, no matter the cost.

You’d stopped asking questions a long time ago. Why did they leave? Why did he allow you to stay? What was that gnawing feeling deep in your gut? You’d stopped wondering about what could be, what should be. This was it. This was all there was.

And as Ellie’s world spun with hope, with the promise of doing right, yours had long since given up. Because in your world, saving lives wasn’t enough. The world didn’t reward you for being a hero. No. It rewarded you for knowing when to stop asking, when to take what you were given.

Dressed in black, learning what was most important: to keep moving.

To be continued …..

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Ellie m.list

Taglist @0h-basic

[signanothername]

do you think killer might only have an aversion to his jacket after leaving nightmare? in a way I always thought it was his sort of comfort, or grounding, when he was with nm

though now, with color, he simply hates it or finds it unnerving to be around because it’s just a painful reminder.

also love your headcannons and art, they are very sparkly ✨✨✨

Thank youuu <333

To me, Killer always wanted to feel pretty, he just never got to do so under Nightmare, he only had that one jacket, and one pair of shirt/shorts and one pair of shoes, and only washed those whenever they needed the wash

Here’s the kicker tho, Nightmares wouldn’t have cared if Killer wore different clothes each time under him, in fact, Nightmare would’ve preferred it actually, Nightmare is a bit obsessed with his image, and he always makes sure that his space is clean and tidy, that also includes the people living with him under the same roof

If you notice, I never draw Murder with visible dust on him, not because I can’t, but because Nightmare wouldn’t allow Murder to stay with such dirt in his own castle

That goes for everyone, Nightmare tells MTT that he didn’t recruit animals under him constantly, that after each mission, he expects them to clean themselves up and not stain his castle with the dirt, blood, and dust on them

Nightmare can tolerate a stain or two, but he won’t have his subordinates looking absolutely disheveled

Of course, that makes MTT forced to clean themselves up if they don’t wanna get into trouble, and Killer especially, he’d do that even without Nightmare telling them so (as would Horror), Killer simply cares a bit about his looks, he’s not as obsessed with how he looks as Nightmare is, but Killer does prefer to look presentable at least

But that’s where Killer’s abuse comes in, while Nightmare wouldn’t even care if Killer wore something different, Killer never found himself doing so, not because he didn’t want to, but because he saw no point in it, his new clothes are gonna get ruined if he put them on then went on a mission right after when Nightmare ordered it, his new clothes made no difference when all Killer was allowed to do is stay at the castle or go out in an AU when Nightmare wished it (and Nightmare’s the only one who had the power to teleport them from one AU to another)

He saw no point in finding his own joy by wearing something he likes cause that could easily be used against him, a weakness, a vulnerability he would rather not open the door to in his environment

Of course, after he’s saved, Killer didn’t just simply let go of all of these ideas on the get go, in fact, it took him years to understand that he can now wear whatever he wished without any sort of limitations or consequences, not to mention, his undeniable nostalgia to Nightmare as well as his belief that Nightmare would either kill him sooner than later for betraying him, or that he’d end up back under Nightmare again

So Killer was convinced that there’s no point to changing up

And of course, comfort, this outfit is what he’d known for years, he can’t just let go all of a sudden

That of course, eventually changes as Killer is shown love and care, and it starts small, with Killer having one or two outfits besides his og one, and wearing these new outfits on rare occasions, but as time went on, his wardrobe filled up with newer outfits and he wore them more and more and his og clothes less and less, all subconsciously than an actual conscious decision on Killer’s part

And as time goes on further more and Killer learns and adapts and heals, he eventually finds himself in a new outfit every day, his og outfit completely forgotten to time and completely forgotten by Killer

Only to find it again, only this time, he can’t really wear it anymore, and Killer would come to the realization of how much he’s healed <3

I don’t necessarily think Killer would hate his old clothes after he’s saved, but rather, would always have a part of him unable to stop from growing a bit fond in a fucked up way, not that he’d want to actually go back to such times, but a part of him will always look back and think of how far he’d come, and how far back such memories are

[embersofnovember]

steve rogers headcanons !!

warnings : angst (?), mentions of death, just some silly headcannons bc my man is too overhated

enjoy!!

- he definitely has a record collection in his apartment on one of his shelves with a bunch of music from the 30s and he doesn't let anyone touch it

- technicallyyy isn't a headcanon since he went to art school in the comics and also is shown in the films to be really good at drawing but when he's not captain america (yk fighting people and stuff), he likes to keep a small sketchbook in his back pocket so he can draw whenever he's bored. like a small notepad that's similar to the one he keeps for writing new things down that he doesn’t know ab since the guy is ancient and missed a fair bit

- has a pet fish. a big orange one with bug eyes to be exact (no i'm not elaborating why)

- whenever a girl tries to flirt with him (which is like, all the time) he gets really awkward and stutters a bunch

—>also, if a girl ever tries hinting anything, he’s completely oblivious

- idk i think this guy has a crazy spice tolerance

- HATES cheese but he loves pretzels—whenever he buys a pretzel and he even glances at the melted cheddar cheese they sometimes offer he has to resist the urge to grimace because he can’t think of anything worse

- he confides and is openly vulnerable with natasha during the blip as they’d been through a lot together. when he went back in time, he was secretly really excited to come back and tell natasha everything only to find out she died

- ate cement as a kid

- heavily dislikes trains (he can’t stop thinking about how he couldn’t save his best friend despite every time he steps foot on one)

- since his parents were irish and he immigrated to america when he was a kid, he’s always considered the idea of going back to ireland to see if he can figure out his family tree, but never acted on it

- he never gets panic attacks, like ever, but the one time he does it’s after tony dies and he suddenly can’t get over anything that’s happened to him in the last hundred years

- a country music fan i don’t make the rules (clint introduced it to him)

- attempts (miserably) to make pop culture references to try and fit in and make people laugh but all he gets is questioning looks

- in the tower, his nickname was ‘fossil’ for a long time (mostly because of stark)

all in all, this guy is the fattest cinnamon roll ever and he’s hopelessly clueless :P

[prinzrupprecht]

How would okita be with a lover who’s female kunochi reader?

The Former Assassin

Great idea! Imma make this correlate to Izo Okada who was a very famous assassin during this time period.

Pairing: Okita x fem!reader

Synopsis: As a former assassin of Chousou that hid your past from everyone, you had joined Kondo’s faction during the war with the anti-shogunate forces. You were incredibly close to everyone over the years, especially to Souji.

WC: 1044

No warnings

Your past was a mystery, but you continued your journey as a warrior like them and went as far as to join Kondo’s faction. You had met the warriors of the Tennin rishin-ryu before they were formed as the Roshigumi in 1863. Even when others disapproved of you, Souji didn’t care whether you were a woman or a man. He tried to beat you numerous of times but each time you evaded his attacks.

You weren’t stronger than him but you always managed to escape from his sight before he could land any fatal blow. This was all in the past.

You were still easing up on everyone and helping them in their battles. The Bakumatsu period was a survival of time. You all fought for your beliefs and to survive. Souji admired you since you were able to react to his move set and your iai drawing techniques were so fast that he almost got struck a few times.

You weren’t a phenomenal samurai but considered yourself on par with the most infamous man Izo Okada who used to be like a brother to you. Used to…

Izo Okada had taught you the basics of assassinations and sword art, knife throwing, and martial arts techniques at close range. However… as you were now considered a traitor to Choushou, you were dead to them. They were very anti-shogunate and were considered to be the enemy of the Tokugawa shogunate including their allies, the Roshigumi, and Aizu domain.

As you remembered a part of your past, would they kill you if they knew who you were? “What are you doing out here sharpening your weapons this late?” Souji yawned as he stepped outside of the Maekawa residence to see you in the courtyard.

You had already proven to them that you were useful for the last 2 years and one in particular member who you grew close to was Souji. The others also treated you with respect as well minus Hijikata who was mostly an ass but you tolerated him.

“No reason, you should go to sleep.” You didn’t make eye contact with him. You and him were considered too close by the other members. It all started when you got severely injured by an ambush attack… Okita stuck by your bedside most of the entire time.

Your head wasn’t in the right mindset and you begged him to stay with you. When you gained your senses back after a few weeks, you felt embarrassed for asking for his comfort. Yet, he was completely fine with staying with you and still occasionally would be there when you wanted him with you.

“If you can’t sleep, do you want me to stay with you?” Souji sat next to you. He was too kind for someone like you with a dark past. You hated how you felt that you didn’t deserve him. His offer warmed your heart and you leaned your head against his shoulder. He could tell you were tired.

“Would you kill me if I told you about my past?” You felt Souji’s cheek lean against your head so that both your bodies were practically pressed up against the other.

“Your past?”

“Ya…” you were afraid of what he’d think of you. Maybe he won’t kill you, but he could distance himself around you. Everyone already thinks you were his girl.

You didn’t want to live in a lie.

“I… I don’t understand?” He was worried where this was going.

You grabbed his hand. “Remember when you attacked me not once but three times in the streets? You had no idea who I was, and thought I was some peerless criminal committing crimes.” You tried to lighten the mood while Souji loosened himself while nodding.

“Ya, I remember.”

“I was actively involved with the enemy Choushou…but not anymore, at least since I joined you guys.” You could feel him shift uncomfortably and didn’t say a word. Kusaka Genzui was a ruthless man that threatened you numerous of times if you didn’t comply with orders. Eventually, you broke away and left for good but it took a lot of years to leave.

You moved away a bit from him in case he was going to grab your sword and kill you with it. “So? If you’re not with them anymore… it shouldn’t matter. Let’s go to sleep, okay?” You could see him give you a soft smile as he grabbed your hand to pull you up to your feet.

“You don’t hate me for it? I– I hid this for years. I don’t understand.” You had a sense of relief wash over you.

“I’m not mad at all. I'm kind of happy you left them. People can change, right? I don’t think I have it in me to kill you...” Hearing this from him made your heart swell with happiness.

He was too soft deep down and has been incredibly kind to you since you joined them. “Thank you,” you whispered next to him as you laid down on the Tatami mat curled next to him.

You were afraid and didn’t want to admit it. Of losing him? You never had such connections with anyone before. You were just used as a tool for assassinations and Okada most likely try to finish you off himself when the time comes.

Souji enjoyed every moment he could get like this. You had plagued his mind since you two had met. He watched you slowly fall asleep feeling snuggled into his side grabbing him like your life was dependent on him. He wondered what you were afraid of the most. What did you live for? Why did you betray your former faction? Were you loyal to them now? To him? Souji still trusts you since you trusted him.

The most vulnerable situation a person can put themselves in is when they’re asleep. So you obviously trusted him.

Does he call you his now? Was this normal as friends? He couldn’t remember for how long had he felt this way. He smiled before putting one arm over your waist and decided to sleep this time.

He was for sure going to keep nights like this on a regular basis. With you there with him already puts his mind at ease.

Note: finally hit the sleeping next to them base with my fanfics. No idea how I feel about this one. I tried my best. I’ll put you more quality ideas in my 3 part sorcerer one shot in the future.

[oh-my-bindery]

Drarry: I love that Harry the hero is down for murder. But Draco the guy who comes from a long line of a family of dark magic is the one that hates murder (it's literally canon Draco can not kill anyone for shit) and it gives me so many feels. It's partly because I love healer Draco. But also because Harry is reckless and does not have a lot of self preservation. His idea of justice is like you die by the sword.

Definitely! I draw all my conclusions from canon.

Buckle up bc I went on a rant here

The way Draco is written and what we are shown of his actions and character, we can clearly conclude at least few things:

- Draco is a person who fights with his words, that cut deeper than a knife. He knows what he is doing and wants it to hurt. I believe he does it to feel better about himself.

- Draco can’t kill. He literally can’t kill. Even his wand (that chose him) is one that has the most difficult time turining into Dark Arts. It reflects on his character. He is different from his family.

- Draco is a very sensitive boy as we are told by Moaning Myrtle in HBP. We also get to see him break down and for the first time show his real emotions which is a new thing from him. Harry has never seen him cry. Which leads me to ask, why? All 6 years and no one saw Draco cry before? No one saw him express deeper emotions that his usual proud and snarky / bully mask? It is definitely connected to his family, most likely Lucius, as Narcissa is the one who even though believes in blood purity shit, never takes a Dark Mark, never fights for Voldemort, her main concern is always Draco. She has so much love for him. It is probably why Draco even knows that he can allow himself to cry, even if it’s on his own.

- Moaning Myrtle also tells us that Draco is lonely.

- On Harry Potter wiki and Pottermore (I think) it says that Draco was never able to produce a Patronus spell as he didn’t have a strong enough of a happy memory - well that’s sad seeing as Harry was able to do it with how shit his life was.

Draco is supposed to seemingly be rich, get everything he wants, he has a family that is alive , Mother who loves him SO MUCH, father that would she if anything happened to him (well he failed to protect Draco from the worst and then did nothing after the fact, continued being awful but that’s another rant), Slytherins seem to like him, he has some friends although I’m not even sure he likes them or if they like him (from canon we know that by Deathly Hallows - Crabbe and Goyle hate him. Draco never really liked Blaise (or wasn’t fond of him. He tolerated Pansy and had some trust towards her.)

So even though Draco smilingly has all, he doesn’t have a strong enough of a happy memory.

- Draco is terrified of killing someone, so much so he stops eating, keeps to himself and stops being himself when tasked with killing Dumbledore.

When Harry sees Draco in his Voldy visions - Draco looks terrified and broken when asked to torture Rowle - the sight of how Draco is being pushed into doing those horrible things and how much he could be suffering- canonically makes Harry try to get rid of the visions because he doesn’t want to see Draco torture people or if he refuses/ can’t- see Draco being tortured or killed.

- Draco doesn’t care if he dies. Why? Who knows? But he literally lies to his whole family that are depending on him to identify Harry as Harry Potter at the manor and he just doesn’t. He knows what are the consequences of failing to capture Harry are (probably being killed by Voldemort, him and his family.) and Draco knows it is Harry. If he was cruel and and awful person he would say “yep, that’s Potter” but instead Harry notices that Draco looks just as terrified, hands shaky as Harry was. Draco literally would rather have Harry survive and himself die than other way around. It is SO CANON.

And Harry wise

- Harry is super hot-headed as we know.

I think looking at his reaction when Sirius was killed, he literally sprung from Remus’s arms, shooting, shooting curses after Bellateix. He crucioed her. No, thinking, he just does.

When people whom Harry loves / cares about are killed or harmed Harry has no thoughts just do. Give them hell. He will deal with consequences later - he is bad at the ‘dealing with the consequences bit though. He doesn’t want to be a killer, and hates himself for being capable of it.

When Snape kills Dumbledore, Harry is in SO MUCH RAGE. He goes after Snape and literally uses Sectumsempra on him, knowing what it would do- if not helped Snape literally would die lol.

But when it comes to Draco and Harry almost killing him, knowing about Dracos Dark Mark, him being suspicious all year, being horrible to him all other years - ABSOLUTELY NOT ACCEPTABLE.

He leaves Draco alone even after he find out Draco was going to kill Dumbledore.

In conclusion, Harry would 100% kill for Draco, no questioning it. He wouldn’t feel bad about the person being killed but about the fact that he is capable to killing.

[scotfraweek]

It’s here guys! The long awaited list for ScotFra Week! Thank you to those of you who voted on the poll/form

I hope you guys like the list I created. I had to really think this through and really decide how I wanted to organize the Themes/Prompts in a way that would not only make sense but that would be interesting and bring out your creative and imaginative ideas to the event.

Now without any further ado, here they are

🌹Day 1 - October 20

Soulmates / Reincarnation

“Maybe we make it in another universe/life”

“Have we met before?”

High School Sweethearts

Differences Attract

❤️Day 2 - October 21

Humanverse VS Fantasy

“We can build something new, for us.”

“Have you ever wondered, of what could’ve been?”

Long-Distance Relationship

🌹Day 3 - October 22

A/B/O or Pirates/Merfolk

“I was here first!”

“Is this what you want?”

Unplanned Pregnancy

Jealousy

❤️Day 4 - October 23

✨F R E E D A Y✨

Anniversary

🌹Day 5 - October 24

Horror / Supernatural (In honor of Halloween)

“Why is there so much blood?!”

“So everything you said was a lie?”

There was only one bed

Serial Killer/ Haunted House

❤️Day 6 - October 25

Artist/Fan or Detectives

“There was a slight miscommunication”

“You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Love = Weakness

Rivalry

🌹 Last Day - October 26

Angst/Hurt or Post Apocalypse

“Do you remember when…?”

“I trusted you!”

Character Death/Still Alive

The End of the World

🌹 Of course if you guys would like, you can mix and match. If a prompt from a different day fits your idea for one of the Themes, you are more than welcome to use it. You also can use more than one prompt if you wish as well!

❤️ Art, fics/one-shots and moodboards are all welcomed. Anything that you can use to express your imagination and creativity

✨How to submit your works✨

Just tag the account @scotfraweek as well as the #/ScotFraWeek2024 with your submission/post

✨R U L E S✨

Yes, there are rules guys… please follow them

I will not tolerate any bashing of other Hetalia Characters even if it is for the sake of your idea. Please be respectful of the other characters, I don’t want any fan-wars bc someone’s blorbo was bashed

Try to keep politics and actual life events to a minimum, no need for there to also be any actual hate/fighting during the event amongst participants.

I will say this only once, please to not use other artist’s/writer’s work to enter the event. All work must be solely yours. If someone calls you out for plagiarism, I will NOT be defending you, you’re on your own for that

Please, please, PLEASE, and I can NOT stress this enough, but absolutely no AI can be used for your submissions. Once again, all works must be unique and original. If your work requires AI, then it is NOT original. I will not reblog your work if i get the slightest hint of AI work, and believe me, I can tell

Please keep comments on other participants work friendly. Respect the other participant’s submissions for the event. If you do not like someone’s work for whatever reason — Block the user. I will not stand for any hate/bullying in other people’s post because their work did not meet your expectations. This also goes for spectators who will not be submitting work of their own.

Finally, have fun! This event is about showing love and creativity for the french bastard and his ginger himbo hubby. Bring out your creativity and your best suit!

Late submissions will still be accepted up to 3 days after the event is over!

‼️If you feel like another participant’s work is breaking the rules or is offensive towards you or anyone else, be sure to let me know so proper actions will be taken

📫The account’s inbox will be open for any questions or even ideas that you have in regards of the event!

💔I genuinely do apologize, I had truly intended to have this out a few days ago, but … things happen. I hope you are not too mad or upset with me

🤍 Can’t wait to see all your guy’s works next month, see you then!

@hetaliacalendar if you wouldn’t mind reblogging for a little signal boost pls 😭

[lynzishell]

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire 💛Atlas & Asher🩵

✨TYSM for the tag @raiiny-bay, @zosa95, @dandylion240, @sirianasims, and @hannahssimblr 🤗💖

Of course, I went overboard with this, so grab your favorite beverage and let's dive right in, shall we? ☕💕

-what common/uncommon fear do they have?

💛Atlas: [Pointing to Asher] Water. 🩵Asher: You can’t just leave it at that. It’s not like if you set a glass of water on the table, I’ll run screaming. I have a fear of drowning, so I don’t like to be submerged in water. You’re never going to catch me out swimming. Probably not on a boat either, while we’re at it. Not taking any chances. 💛Atlas: Fair enough. But you won’t even put your face under the water in the shower. 🩵Asher: That’s because it reminds me of being submerged in water. Anyway, this conversation is making me sweaty, and there just happens to be water on the other side of this fence, so let's change the subject. Next question.

-do they have any pet peeves?

🩵Asher: Oh, Atlas fuckin’ hates mindless small talk, like the kind you use just to fill the silence, or because you awkwardly feel like you need to talk to the person next to you. Seriously, he’ll like you a lot more if you just sit next to him in silence for an hour. 💛Atlas:  Very true. And yet, your record for silence is, what, twenty minutes?  🩵Asher: Maybe. But I don’t make mindless small talk. 💛Atlas: Yeah, I do like listening to you ramble on about your latest obsessions. You get all animated and excited, it’s really cute. 🩵Asher: You’re really cute.

-what are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

💛Atlas: Uh, I don’t know, what’s in our room besides the obvious? Probably too many electronics. 🩵Asher: Right, between the computer and the switch and my drawing tablet and our phones... 💛Atlas: And your sketchbooks and pencils. How many pencils does someone need? 🩵Asher: I don’t have enough; I’ll tell you that much. Count yourself lucky that most of my art supplies are scattered between Lex’s place and my parents’ house. One day I’ll get it all organized in one place, but that day is not today.

-what do they notice first in a person?

🩵Asher: Hm. That's a good question. What did you notice about me first? 💛Atlas: Your hair, obviously. 🩵Asher: [laughs] 💛Atlas: But no, I would say your eyes. I’d never met anyone with such pure gray eyes before, they’re striking. Your eyes are very expressive too. And you make eye contact with people more than anyone else I know. Like, whenever I talk to you, I always feel like you’re really listening. 🩵Asher: [smiles] I am.

-on a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

🩵Asher: Oh god, mine is probably like a 5, and Atlas’s is probably a fuckin’ 8 or 9. 💛Atlas: I would’ve said 7, but we can go with 8.

-do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

💛Atlas: I think my first instinct is freeze, but then probably flight. Depending on the situation, I’ll walk away or hide away. 🩵Asher: Mostly. But with James, you definitely went to fight. 💛Atlas: That was different. I don’t care if people hurt me, but I’m not going to let them hurt the people I love. Ash is definitely more of a fighter than I am.  

-do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

🩵Asher: I don’t come from a big family, it’s just my parents, me, my sister, and my niece, but we are very close. But honestly, family isn’t just about relatives. Chosen family is just as important. When I say my family is the most important thing to me, I don’t just mean them, I also mean Atlas and Lex and Dawn and Phoenix and Aspen too. And Jasper, obviously. 💛Atlas: Exactly. If we’re talking about relatives, I come from a very large family, but I will never see or speak to any of them again, except for Dawn, of course. A few years ago, I never would’ve considered myself a family person, but Ash’s family taking me in changed all that. I’d definitely say I am now. 🩵Asher: I love that.

-what animal represents them best?

💛Atlas: Oh, that’s easy. Ash is just like Jasper, his border collie. Playful and energetic, friendly, intelligent, hardworking, and he loves to snuggle. 🩵Asher: Hm. I think for Atlas, I’d say a deer. 💛Atlas: A deer? 🩵Asher: Yeah, like, you’re quiet and cautious, a bit anxious with a tendency to hide, but you’re also beautiful and sweet. 💛Atlas: You make me sound more like a bunny. 🩵Asher: No, definitely not a bunny. Have you ever come upon a big buck deer? They’re majestic and intimidating, and they’ll kick your ass if they have to. They’re… survivors.

-what is a smell that they dislike?

💛Atlas: Ammonia. 🩵Asher: No one likes the smell of ammonia. 💛Atlas: I know, but when I was a kid, at the end of every school year, we’d have to clean our desks with this ammonia spray. Twenty kids spraying ammonia in an enclosed room. It was awful. I’m sure they had the windows open, but even still, that smell is seared into my brain, makes me want to gag just thinking of it.

-have they broken any bones? if so, how?

🩵Asher: Okay, story time! So, when I was ten? Eleven? Something like that. Anyway, I was dancing around in my room, as one does, and I tripped on a book, one of many scattered around my disaster of a room, and tried to catch myself as I went down. Bad decision. I’ll spare you the details, but the pain I felt in my wrist was horrible. I literally saw stars. And then I almost puked when I looked at it. So, of course, I started screaming for my mom. She came running in, and I told her that I’d broken my wrist. And what did she do? She yanked on it and snapped it back into place! Because apparently, I’d just dislocated it. But, fuck, it hurt. If a broken bone is worse than that, then I hope I never break one. 💛Atlas: I broke a toe once. Stubbed it on the corner of my bed when I was in college. I wasn’t good about taping it up or anything either, so it healed a little crooked.

-how would a stranger likely describe them?

🩵Asher: For Atlas? One word: quiet. How they interpret that quietness varies though. Some people think he’s really shy, others think he’s just aloof. But he’s actually neither. He’s introverted and pensive, sure, but he’s also very warm and enjoys chatting with people if it’s a more meaningful conversation, y’know. Like, when we first met, we would talk for hours and hours. 💛Atlas: That’s true, but you’re such an easy person to talk to. I think that’s what people would say about Ash. He’s just very relaxed and friendly and has a way of putting people at ease. He’s good at connecting with people and getting them talking and making them laugh.  

-are they a night owl or a morning bird?

🩵Asher: Probably night owls, I’d say. Atlas prefers starting his day later and working late, if he has the option. 💛Atlas: Yeah, but these days, it feels like I’m working all the time. But even still, Ash starts his day earlier. I don’t know. I think he’s somehow both. He has no issues with mornings, but he also gets a burst of energy in the evening and sometimes it’s hard to get him to come to bed. 🩵Asher: To sleep, anyway. 💛Atlas: [laughs] Right.

-what is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

💛Atlas: Ah, Ash hates vinegar and anything pickled. And he loves warm spices like cinnamon and cardamom. 🩵Asher: Oh my god, and Atlas is fuckin’ backwards when it comes to this. He likes bitter flavors to a strange degree, like super bitter beer and strong coffee and he’ll only eat chocolate if it’s the super dark stuff, otherwise he hates it. He doesn’t like sweets. No sugary drinks or candy or even pastries.

-do they have any hobbies?

🩵Asher: We both love gaming and dancing. Otherwise, I like to draw and spend time with my dog. My favorite is taking him down to the beach to play fetch, he loves it there. 💛Atlas: Yeah, and I don’t know, I like to stay active because I feel like I’m constantly at a desk otherwise. I used to rock climb a lot, but since we climbed Mt. Komorebi, we took a break and never really got back to it, so I pretty much just run and work out at the gym occasionally. And I like to sing. 🩵Asher: Seriously, I wish you could hear him. He has the most incredible voice. 💛Atlas: Aw, thank you.

-boom, surprise birthday party! how do they react to surprises?

💛Atlas: Ash would love it! He’d be so stoked that everyone showed up for him like that. 🩵Asher: And Atlas would probably dump me on the spot if I ever did that to him. 💛Atlas: I don’t know if I’d dump you, but… okay, yeah, I probably would.

-do they like to wear jewelry? if so, what is their favorite piece?

🩵Asher: I don’t think I’ve ever seen Atlas wear any jewelry. 💛Atlas: No, I’ve tried, but I could never get used to it. I’d always end up taking it off by midday. 🩵Asher: I can see that. I wear earrings, but that’s it. I used to wear a necklace that an ex gave me, but I threw it out when we broke up. I wanted to throw it into the ocean, but I didn’t dare to walk out on the dock [laughs] so I tossed it in a dumpster instead. 💛Atlas: I didn’t know that. Which ex? 🩵Asher: Elias. 💛Atlas: Ahh. Yikes. 🩵Asher: Yeah. Anyway. Next question.

-do they have neat or messy handwriting?

💛Atlas: I think we both write fairly neat. 🩵Asher: I think so too. Yours is all sharp angles, but it’s not sloppy. 💛Atlas: Yeah, and you have a strong preference for uppercase letters. Sometimes it’s rushed, but it’s never messy. Actually, I’ve never thought about it before, but I really like your handwriting. 🩵Asher: I like yours too.

-what are two emotions they feel the most?

🩵Asher: [points to Atlas] Anxious. 💛Atlas: All of the time. 🩵Asher: And, hm, we can only pick two? I’d probably go with either introspective or focused. 💛Atlas: That’s probably right. For you, I’d say, passionate or inspired and then maybe playful or energetic or something like that. Okay yeah, passionate and playful.

-do they have a favorite fabric?

💛Atlas: Probably cotton, I guess. 🩵Asher: Yeah, same. I don't know. Never really thought about it, to be honest.

-what kind of accent do they have?

🩵Asher: I don’t know. Do we have accents? I mean, I guess Atlas gets a hint of a drawl when he drinks, it’s pretty cute. 💛Atlas: I do not. 🩵Asher: You do! I never told you because I didn’t want you to get self-conscious and try to stop. 💛Atlas: It’s a good thing I don’t drink often, I guess. 🩵Asher: Whatever. I love it. 💛Atlas: And I love you. 🩵Asher: I love you too.

And I love them too!! 🥹

Okay, whew! What are the chances anyone actually read all that? I really can't just be normal about these things, can I? Oh well... Now it's your turn!! I'm gonna tag @madebysimblr, @crownsofesha, @xldkx, @honeyjars-sims, aaaaaaaaaaand @igotsnothing 🤸🏻‍♀️💖 Answer them normally, or have a little fun with it, or ignore me completely, that's fine too (no it's not) 🫶🏻

[nevermorgue]

Hello Hayley! I've been binge reading your Nevermore headcanons and I LOVE every single one. If you're taking requests, may I ask for some Montresor and Morella friendship headcanons please? I feel like they would tease each other, but be able to bond over a shared love of food. Thank you for all of your work :D

YES!!! I was so inspired by pluto’s morella and monty platonic art in the server. i love the idea of them getting along. but to start, i’m gonna be evil

- Obviously things wouldn’t go so great. Morella doesn’t like him and actively stands up against his nonsense. Montresor probably only sees her spectre, really. He understands that her defense skills are necessary. Probably thinks she’s too kind hearted. Probably also thinks she’s stupid to some degree, but not entirely because of how she stood up to him.

- I can only imagine their relationship changing if Morella just kinda forced herself to tolerate him to keep the peace as much as possible. She doesn’t want unnecessary problems to arise (like the wall thing) nor does she want to feed into what he wants (her to snap/react)

- So her method is to attempt to treat him the way she treats everyone else. Montresor finds it amusing, using her kindness against her and purposely being worse to get her to break.

- That backfires. He’s trying to put her on a Will/Ada level, but Morella is too headstrong to be fooled. She’s kind to be kind, and his pleasantries don’t work on her. If anything, she’s more responsive when he drops the whole charisma thing- because he’s being REAL.

- With this dynamic established. Imagine. She’s a great cook. She ends up making a big meal for the misfits and is oh so kind enough to save a bowl for him. She knows damn well he doesn’t deserve it, but her continuing to be nice to him despite how horrible he is…it’s kinda like a game between them now. She’s trying to say she’s better than him with every kind act. And he’s not only entertained/mildly pissed, but he’s stubborn and wants her to snap and drop the act so he plays along.

- “Lemme guess, doll. Poison’s in here. Naw…maybe dirt.”

“Just spices and care, Montresor. Try it!”

And of course, it tastes fantastic. He says it tastes like shit and slams the door in her face. He eats the entire bowl.

- As time goes on, Montresor doesn’t realize it but he’s starting to see her as less of a game like his lackeys and more of a neutral company that he doesn’t really necessarily hate. And he can tell that their ‘game’ goes more and more stagnant as Morella becomes less faux-kind, allowing herself to pout or scold him. It’s become less of a “try to get the other to back off” and more of a natural sort of interaction.

- She genuinely asks him if he’s ever brushed his hair in his life. He proceeds to answer by running his fingers through his hair, only to cuss when he hits a particularly nasty knot.

- She just kinda tosses a spare hair brush at him. She’s not willing enough to touch him/comb his greasy ass hair for him, but at least gives him the means to do it himself.

- I do agree that they bond over food. They have big stomachs and Morella is just so good at cooking.

- Ada invites Morella to sit with her and Monty in the common area once. She was hesitant, but agrees after she’s encouraged by the misfits to go for some strange reason.

- But once the interaction starts, Morella can tell that Ada doesn’t really want her there. She keeps glaring and tugging Montresor’s sleeve, as she always does.

- It doesn’t dawn on her why she was invited until Ada spills it.

“Why did you want her here so bad, dear? I wanted my alone time with you…” Ada would whine. Ada doesn’t HATE Morella, but she’s still not very happy about their argument in the cellar.

Morella can’t believe what she’s hearing. It wasn’t Ada that wanted her here- but Montresor

- She grins. She has no idea what their relationship really is or if it can be anything other than a okayish neutral, but perhaps this moment right here is proof that Monty can feel something that isn’t cruel or unnecessary.

- And Montresor? Refuses to look her in the eye. She’s not terrible. But don’t get him wrong, it’s only because she’s in the middle. Not smart enough to be on Annabel or Prospero’s strategy levels, but not pushover-y enough to be of any use to him. That’s it.

[stinkypeanutbutter]

silly Aiden headcanons because I have no impulse

i probably already done these before in other headcanon posts I made but ermm I’ll do it again 😹

small TW for scars at the end 🗣🗣

AIDEN :

Aiden has the most unhinged playlist ever like oh my giggly goodness we got metal we got rock we got classic we got indie we got pop we got vocaloid Idfk whatever you can think of ( same 😹 )

totally had an immense phase of just everything . Creepy pasta , animation , FNAF , idk any other phases from 2016 help

Probably dated like once or twice , but they weren’t serious at ALL and mostly online . He just said yes because he wanted to be nice since he never really had friends ofc , so why hurt someone you barley know if it means getting a friend ? ( I’m gonna explode 😭 )

I’m not sure when this was actually invented , but he’d probably try and convince everyone to make battery acid candy drinks . ( they all say no 😔 )

Sorta sad headcanon they if no matter how hard to tries to solve a difficult puzzle , and he fails , he just starts silently bawling his eyes out . Cause you know he’s really good at them right ? He can solve them pretty quickly ? So if he’s like absolutely pressured by a bunch of people watching expecting him to win ( or like his friends cause yk they believe in him !!!! ) and he can’t solve the puzzle he’ll be like “ why can’t I solve this why is this hard why am I failing “ or something and then start crying ig ( Yeouchers angst 😿 )

Bro is the heaviest napper ever you can stack things on him for HOURS but the moment he actually sleeps most things can wake him ( if he’s not comfortable at least . He’ll sleep pretty well at sleepovers )

I can’t figure out an art style for him but I updated it so ignore that last drawing it’s grody anyway he sometimes draws people but prefers just random splotches of color . He has extremely stylized art but yk , it’s just ‘ weird ’ according to some people since it’s really . . graphic . Not in a BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD way but very mixed ( if you get what I mean )

Hugs everything when he sleeps you can’t tell me otherwise like you seen his old bed ?? He had NOTHIN so absolutely is he gonna cuddle everything near him

Hates competing . ( idk if he did it before but we’ll see ) like he doesn’t like doing puzzle competitions anymore that much , he just got bored of it and was really kinda forced to do it when he was younger . BUT if it’s in a game against his friends , he’ll probably do it just to help them out cause they always get stuck if Logan can’t figure it out either .

Does that thing with music where If it absolutely hits he just starts spazzing out and dances to it

that one thing where he walks around in a circle talking to himself if he’s really deep in thought ( he could go on for hours so someone has to pull him out to drink water at least )

TONS of posters in his room

Him and Taylor binge shows together , often ask the others to join when they aren’t busy . They totally watch anime ( Tyler calls it childish then gets really invested in uhhhh let’s say full metal alchemist and sport animes like haikyuu or something I can’t think of any he’d like . But I’m gonna make them all watch Ghost stories because it’s funny )

Aidlyn cuddling is mostly done at Aidens house cause his parents rarely go up to check on him ( 😅💥 ) and also he had a ton of blankets for Ashlyn to wrap herself in . He got her a heavy weighted blanket for her birthday one time so when that’s not around she just uses Aiden as a blanket if she’s feeling affectionate ( he’s warm in the winter time and pretty light believe it or not )

Has a medium spice tolerance , eats more then what he can handle like a stinky loser

doesn’t like anyone pointing out his growing hair roots so just don’t talk about it much 😅😅

steals chopsticks from restaurants cause who needs to buy any ??? They’re free if you don’t get caught / hj

sometimes just locks himself up in his room and lays in his bed thinking about life

LOVES drawing his friends ( especially Ash ) in his free time because he rarely draws in front of people , and will make an airplane out of it to throw it over to them . But he has that mentality where “ Everyrhing I make kinda sucks “ so expect to find doodles in the trash or hidden in his room

IPad kid , can’t tel me otherwise .

Loves hover boarding but he kinda sucks at it so he just 🧍🕺☠️ ( falls )

Will ram into everyone in bumper cars , almost sent someone flying ( Lilly , he bought her candy as a sorry )

rarely catches cavities because he actually has really strong teeth and willingly bites down on hard candies ( I do the same thing because I’m impatient 😹 )

Does all his school work at home cause school has too many distractions ( real )

Buys like body foundation to smear onto his legs and arms . He doesn’t want anyone to point out them out , and if they do he just tells them their from skateboarding . It can come off after a few days if he doesn’t reapply , but it’s fine since he does it again in between and would have to reapply anyway . Idk how it works 😿

Anyway who shall I do next ????? Put your answers in the comment section below subscribe like and support my Patreon see you in the next video 😹😹😹☝️☝️💥💥

[mr-sadman]

Introducing : Mr. Sadman's Spring Exchange!

Without further ado, here are all the details!

Our stance on plagiarism and AI 

We do not accept nor condone the use of plagiarism, including the use of AI, whether in writing or art. If you are caught using either, you will be disqualified from the current event and barred entry for the other events the Mr. Sadman team puts forward.

General Rules and Informations

Being part of the Mr. Sadman discord is mandatory - meaning this event is open to server members only. Of course, that doesn’t mean you on tumblr cannot participate, just that you need to join the server before the event starts. There will be event related channels and roles available to ensure communication between the mod team and participants runs smoothly. Discord will remain the only method of communication used during the event.

Our sign-ups will be on AO3 only; you will be asked to submit your gift on AO3 regardless of its type to ensure that all assignations are met. That said, if your AO3 handle differs from your Discord handle, please tell us your Discord Username/ID in your sign-up form. 

If you are under the age of 18, you will not be able to create explicit content for the event. Just to reiterate, Mr. Sadman is a 16+ server.

The Mr. Sadman Modteam is a firm believer of “ship and let ship” as well as the kinktomato (https://fanlore.org/wiki/Kinktomato). In accordance with the Server’s existing rules, we will not tolerate any discrimination and harassment in any forms whatsoever. This includes: queerphobia, homophobia, racism, content policing, hate speech, doxxing, shaming, etc, as well as hostility towards organisers and fellow participants. 

It is also mandatory to keep your work and giftee’s identity a secret - this is to ensure that everyone gets the surprise on reveal day. Would you like to have your gifts spoiled ahead of time? Most don’t, so be considerate as it goes against the spirit of the event.

By signing-up to this event, you agree to respect all server and event rules. This includes communication with moderators that might happen outside of server bounds. 

What is a gift exchange?

What is a gift exchange? It’s in the name! This is an event where the exchange of gifts (fic, art, etc.) is central! You will be paired with another participant to make a gift for them based on their sign-up! In turn, you will receive a gift from another participant based on yours!

Are there any minimum requirements? The minimum is 1k words for written pieces, one 500px by 500px piece for art pieces, a minimum of 2mins for digital pieces and audio submissions need to be edited to a near-professional level of quality.

[If your art doesn’t fit within these parameters, please make a note of it in your sign-up and a mod will get in touch with you to reach an agreement]

What kind of art can I make? Anything from traditional or digital drawing, to photomanips, fanvids, podfics, songwriting, book binding and more! We only ask you to put some effort into it! 

A few exceptions include: playlists, icons and banners. These, while being a nice and fun bonus for your giftee, cannot be counted as your primary piece!

What can I write/request? Anything goes! Romantic, platonic, threesomes, foursomes, polycules, you name it! The only thing we ask you to not write/request is xReader/xOC content, as well as anything depicting real life’s children (such as the actors’).

Can I co-write with a friend? If you decide to co-write with a friend, you will have to submit only one sign-up form and will receive only one gift in return. More co-authors doesn’t mean more gifts.

Can I already be paired with someone? No, we do not accept preliminary pairings for this event. 

What if I can’t meet a deadline? Please make sure to inform a mod as soon as you know! Accommodations might be worked out depending on the situation. We simply ask you to be considerate to your fellow participants, it is unfair to them for you to back out as they had already started working on their pieces!

Event Schedule 

Sign-ups : March 31st to April 7th Assignations : April 15th Due date : May 5th Reveal : May 11th

FAQs & TLDR: 

When is the event ? Our Exchange sign-ups are running from March 31st to April 7th, with the due date set for May 5th!

Do I need to be a part of the server to participate? Yes! Our Spring Exchange is open to all server members! This is also to facilitate contact between the mod team and the participants of the event. Please note that sign-ups will be held on AO3 only.

Are there any content type restrictions ? We accept works of various mediums - writing, art, photo edits, podfics, video edits, etc. - , whether they are SFW, NSFW and/or triggering. The only exceptions are playlists, icons and banners, which are not accepted.

Where should I post my work ? Your work should be posted to AO3 to ensure that all assignations have been completed. 

Is this event only for Dreamling? Absolutely not! Whether your pairing is platonic, romantic, neither, both, we want it all!! There is space on the sign-up form for multiple requests, in case you have more than one favoured pairing!

Are polyamorous ships accepted ? Yes!!

Are xReader / xOC works accepted? Not this time around!

I need help, how do I reach a mod?

If there is something that is not covered by our rules masterpost and/or FAQ, you are very free to reach out to us in the Discord server’s dedicated channel or in Discord DMs! 

[durarara-brain-rot]

pssst... do u mind sparing some shizuo hcs for the class? mine are:

- he can't watch any shows with overly-philosophical ramblings because they remind him of izaya (death note kinda and eternal sunshine of the spotless mind)

- this might actually be canon but bro ONLY wears a scarf with his bartender suit in the snow

- cat person? dog person? he's neither. he probably likes bunnies or mice... despite the fact that he gets associated with dogs a lot...

- he's touch starved.

I have many head canons about Shizuo!

- 10000% touch starved

- I feel like depending on how cold it is he might add a sweater or a beanie on over the bartender outfit. How ever when he’s in his normal clothes outside of work (the few times he wears them) I feel like he would bundle up a bit. Scarf, sweater, beanie, gloves, boots!

- I think he’s an animal person in general because they don’t stress him out. How ever I don’t think he would ever own an animal because he’d be too scared to hurt the animal. If he does get one after some therapy I feel like he’d adopt like a stray animal or like an animal would just break into his apartment.

- I believe a guilty pleasure of his is watching cartoons he used to watch as a kid with his brother! I don’t think he watches much tv but if he can’t calm down I think he does have to play

- I feel like Shizuo likes how he looks in the color red mainly cause of the bow tie he has and the fact that a lot of art have him wearing the color but I feel like he actually likes the color blue and yellow more

- Since Shizuo’s Japanese voice actor can sing you bet your ass I’m head canoning he can too but he is too shy to do it in any major way so he mainly hums and sings along to songs in the privacy of his apartment. I feel like he accidentally forgot Celty was visiting once and started singing along to a song or humming and she was stunned and he was so embarrassed he made her promise not to tell anyone

- He forgets how tall he is sometimes and smacks his head on things. This leads him to being extra self conscious and aware when he’s around shorter/smaller people or kids and is why he usually crouches down to their level so he doesn’t scare them.

- absolutely wants a family but doesn’t think he deserves one or would be a good partner or parent so he just lets that dream curl up in a corner of his mind

- can not dance to save his life but will bop his head back and forth a bit when he really likes a song.

- this one might be projecting but I feel like he’s like me where medication doesn’t work because he naturally has a high tolerance for it. Really sucked for him when he was breaking his bones!

- after he starts to get control of his anger and strength he starts to get muscle and joint pain from years of abuse catching up, needs to wear knee braces on really bad days.

- was so excited to have a little brother when he was a kid and then almost dropped him the first chance he got to hold him. He still thinks about it sometimes and feels guilty. Sends his brother a text to check in when he does.

- Speaking of texts this man hates emojis and gets pissed trying to decode Shinra’s messages. Erika gets a pass because she is too straight forward with her emoji use. And when she’s not she explains it before he can even ask.

- has butt dialed about all of his friends the second he got a smart phone because he can’t remember to put a password on his phone and he moves around a lot so it gets jostled easy.

- doesn’t drink like at all because he doesn’t like the taste and is scared he’ll be a mean drunk but was once convinced to try some fruity drinks that he liked… he’s a lightweight with alcohol some how and got wasted. Was a very giddy and happy drunk and everyone agreed to treasure the moment and to never tell him in hopes he’d drink again. He still has not drank a single drop since.

- a girl once confessed to him in highschool and he thought she was making fun of him and just walked away without saying a word. Was labeled cruel after that and girls avoided him like the plague after that.

I could go on but I won’t cause this is already a lot!

If you ever want to request head canons or even one shots I’m open to them! It might take a minute but I’ll get on them as soon as possible! I love durarara so much and I miss writing and talking about it!

[jacarandaaaas]

If baby moana can do THAT

How old is she her?! 10 months old at best?! I'll be nice and she's a year old but that takes real intelligence for someone so young. If she can do that, I'm sure she can weave just about anything she puts her mind to. And what if weaving was one thing Mirabel didn't know how to do/struggle with, and Moana made it her MISSION to teach her. Y'know, just as a friend...heh...nothing more.

But back to the Daycare au, I agree that it should be in a more modern setting. I also agree that it should be for the summer but mostly weekends.

Both teens are the most FAVORITE daycare attendants/babysitters of the kids (don't tell the other sitters that).

The first time the older attendants saw Mirabel they thought she had at least two cups of coffee, but Camilo was like- "No, that's just who she is"

The bags are a little but not enough to be a nuisance.

Both are fluent in ASL and SSL. Mirabel can speak basic Japanese and Camilo can speak basic French.

I don't know a lot of kids, but I've read somewhere that the best way to speak to a kid is by crouching down to their or sitting on your knees. Doing that shows you see the kid as a person and not someone to just talk down to or order around.

I can see Mirabel and Camilo doing this, especially when they see the kid having a hard time emotionally.

Both know rowdy kids are rowdy for a reason. The first step is to try to get them to calm down so the kid can explain why they are upset. 9 out of 10 times it works.

Other times the best solution is to get a little stern, not too much to scare the heck out of them, but to show them who's boss a little bit. If nothing is wrong with and the kid is just being a jerk they go to the unhappy corner.

Camilo HATES discipling the kids with a passion. Even if the punishments are very light it still hurts them. Seeing their little pouts is cute but still makes him sad.

The only kind of punishment that a bad kid will get is going to sleep early (which we all know kids can't stand) or going in the unhappy corner.

I think the most kids they should handle should be about 15 at a time, even that's a bit much.

Mirabel more than likely made stuffed animals/mochilas for kids that are frequent at the daycare. Why wouldn't she?

Both don't tolerate Karen's/disrespectful parents. It takes restraint not to tackle those people to the ground. And I have a feeling child service has been called more than once. These two don't play when it comes to kids.

These two come home covered in glitter, stickers, and marker drawings all over their clothes. Thankfully all three of those things are removable/washable.

I'll think I'll draw their uniforms; They'll have a teacher/kid core vibe to them. Mature but fun.

Also, I didn't know Mirabel's bag was called a mochila, so thanks for that.

omg wait your mind>>> moana sucking at most arts and crafts but being amazing at weaving and mirabel being amazing at arts and crafts but this is the one thing she can’t get!! I can totally see moana teaching her!! would be so cute😭 the kids are just shocked that THE art girl mirabel cant do it!? they thought she could make literally anything!

omg mirabel is absolutely that one person who’s just wired to the moon at 8am😭 nobody understands how she has so much energy even without caffeine! them knowing multiple languages is interesting! can totally see them both being really good at understanding the kids emotional needs! and as mirabel says camilo won’t stop till he makes you smile today! The unhappy corner😭😭 that sounds like a corny name only miss mirabel madrigal could come up with😭🙏 I love that! yes agreed they shouldn’t be dealing with a lot of kids as after all they’re still kids themselves! mirabel making custom plushies for them omg!! she would! she would ask what color and all! glitter absolutely EVERYWHERE!!! but they never complain! in fact I think mirabel is more obsessed with the glitter than the kids are💀and ooh yes would love to see their outfits!! and no problem! this au sounds so fun and silly!

[cloudseeker14]

Frantic Desire (Childe x Fem!Reader)

This art isn't mine, it belongs to mamepokokun who's extremely talented. Please check them out and support them.

Summary : After a one night stand with the woman he can barely tolerate that seems to linger in Childe's memory, what will he do when he sees her again at an official party?

Warning : Making out, some sexual themes, slight swearing

Pairing : Childe x Fem!Reader

Genre : Romance (a bit spicy thought), Enemies to Lovers

a/n : Hello! I've never left notes like this before, but I just wanted to thank you all for the support you've shown for my previous works. Reading some of your comments have truly made my day and I hope this post is able to make yours too.

Childe had never hated anyone as much as the woman he’d caught at corner of his eye.

He’d spotted her across the ballroom, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered across her face. As a harbinger, she seemed to fit perfectly in the background of the ball in the Tsaritsa’s honour.

The party had been a bore, filled with mundane remarks and courtesies. But his eyes hadn’t left her for an instant and he certainly hadn’t failed to see the how she’d spared him a few subtle glances.

The damned woman had been tormenting his mind for countless nights, caressing him softly with phantom touches.

Touches that left him panting for more as he clutched his bed with the moon as his sole witness.

Y/N could feel the eleventh harbinger’s eyes piercing into her back. She almost scoffed at the ludicrous display of hatred, how could a single man be so obvious?

The musicians burst forth with violins and the music began to pick up pace as it blasted through the ballroom. In a sudden spark of courage, Childe began to walk towards her, insults ready at the tip of his tongue.

“Leave me alone, some of us actually are busy and have matters to attend.”

Of course, Y/N, the Tsaritsa’s personal favourite would respond with such coldness. Childe tilted his head, trying to restrain the thoughts that were threatening to spew from his lips.

He wanted to taint her, ruin her and see that facade of indifference burn to ashes.

“Is that so, comrade? I couldn’t help but notice you sulking in the corner for the past while. Perhaps that’s why you seem even more sour than usual, can’t handle not being the Tsaritsa’s lapdog for a single night?”

“Of course not, unlike you, I don’t have to prance around like a jester to retain my position, considering that I have the needed prowess for a harbinger.”

Childe’s jaw clenched and he sucked in a harsh breathe.

“What are you even here for? Came to beg for a dance, have you?”

Childe didn’t know what spurred him, but he couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth.

“Would you like it if that was the case?”

He relished the shock that swept through her face.

“Bold of you to assume that I’d accept.” She replied, regaining her wits.

Childe closed the gap between them, shielding the galling Y/N from prying eyes. “Sure weren’t this cocky a few nights ago, were you?”

It was a tangled mess of limbs as Childe felt his shirt being ripped off.

“As eager as always, hm?” Childe said, hissing as Y/N dug her nails into his back.

“Be a darling and shut your mouth for once.”

Childe pushed her off, crossing his arms over his bare chest; a playful glint in his eyes. “One more vile remark and you’re getting nothing.”

She leaned in close, bringing herself close to his ear. “We both know you want this as much as or even more than me.” She whispered, leaving a sultry kiss on his neck, smearing her red lipstick on his skin.

“Then say it.”

“God, do you ever know when to be quiet.”

“Say the truth.”

“And pray tell, what is this truth?” Y/N raised her eyebrows, growing more impatient by the minute.

“That you know tonight is more than some spontaneous decision with no strings attached.”

Y/N grabbed his face and for a fleeting second, she could tell that if she asked him to, he might do anything she’d ask.

“Then beg for it.”

“Last time I checked, I wasn’t the one pleading to be touched.” Y/N chortled.

Childe flushed, embarrassment rising within him. “Why you-''

Before he could complete his words, she grabbed him by his black tie, tugging him closer to her. Childe stared at the emerald necklace that adorned her neck, light reflecting of it in a plethora of colours. He couldn’t help but wonder how his hands would look in its place instead.

“That night was nothing else other than carnal entertainment .” Y/N muttered, glancing around the vicinity. “Though I’m not sure if you’re as confident about that as I am.” “Keep up with haughty attitude and one day, I might just end up putting you in your place.”

“You chose to come up to me right now.” The corners of her lip pulled into a grin. "Seems to me as if you're desperate for my undivided attention."

Childe clenched his teeth in frustration. "I'm a harbinger like you, show me some respect."

"Make me."

Red seared Childe's vision as his breaths came out shallow. His fists shook and his head throbbed with rage.

"Aw, are you getting all angry?" Y/N cooed, placing her hand atop his chest. "Oh my, you seem to be getting all worked up over a few words."

She paused, pushing him aside. "You've grown weak, Childe. How pathetic."

A huge thud echoed through the ballroom as Childe slammed her against the wall, trapping her in between his arms. Whispers ran through the horde of guests as an awed silence fell upon the crowd.

She dug her nails into her palms, embarrassment clouding her head.

Y/N swung his arm away. "I have to apologize for my friend, I think the drinks really got to his head. Please, don't bother yourselves with us and enjoy the night." She chuckled nonchalantly

Childe remained silent as the guests broke out into giggles, the thought of a drunken acquaintance bringing forth a bout of humor.

The party began to pick up its momentum and the people returned back to the food, drinks and entertainment. Y/N whirled around before dragging Childe out of the ballroom, her silk dress trailing behind her.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" She hissed, running her fingers through her hair.

The cold wind whipped against their faces and Y/N involuntarily shuddered. As though it was second nature to him, Childe removed his coat and gently placed it atop her shoulders. The woman's eyes widened and she let out a huff. Nevertheless, she clutched his coat and wrapped it around herself.

Childe didn't know what was wrong with him. Every single rational thought within him was screaming at him to get away, that no good would come from this.

Yet a small part of him wanted to know what it felt like. To know how it would feel to take her right there, clasp her hand in his as he ravaged her. Maybe even adore and cherish her.

"Stop looking at me like that." She mumbled

"Like what?"

"Like you love me."

She was of noble blood, the Tsaritsa's right hand and lowering herself to a man of a lineage as inconsequential as the dust beneath the soles of her shoes would be a disgrace to everything she stood for.

But she couldn't control the way all the values that had been ingrained in her came crashing down or how her self restraint hung from a thread every time she looked into those sky blue eyes.

Childe guffawed and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips. "Why would I? After all, it's just 'carnal entertainment', is it not?"

"Then why don't you engage me with it? It's not like the party is very amusing, is it?"

Childe grabbed her by the hips, leaning closer. ""Look who's begging now."

They were in too deep now, lost within the mess they'd made. Regardless of how far they ran, how much they tried to avoid it, some invisible string; perhaps of fanatical lust, fate or even inexplicable love kept tugging them back in.

His lips collided with hers, body relaxing at the familiarity of it all. Her hands clung to his shirt as if reaching out for something to tether herself.

The lines between right and wrong, morality and sin seemed to blur. Anyone could be watching them, feasting their eyes upon such a scandalous sight.

Yet, they didn't care, too far gone in their fervorous longing.

The eleventh harbinger pulled away and his teeth grazed Y/N's neck as the wind ruffled his hair. To her horror, Y/N couldn't stop the whimper that escaped her lips.

"Accept it." Childe groaned, inhaling her perfume, intoxicating his senses.

"Accept what?"

"That you want me."

It didn't matter what she'd been taught. The irrevocable feeling in her heart had grown far too big to be contained.

"You're the only one I could ever want."

Childe smiled, not snarkily like when they fought, but of genuine joy and Y/N could have sworn the stars seemed to dim in comparison to it.

One more night couldn't hurt anyone, right?

[celestie0]

🪷 girl fuck these people I'm really sorry you're getting so many messages bitching about no smut in ch10. Like who even cares? Does a story or chapter have no value if the characters aren't going at it like rabbits and fucking and sucking on each other?

At this point if you're so disappointed about no hanky panky just go read one of those pornhwas where the characters start screwing at the drop of a hat.

I would've loved that chapter with smut or without smut idgaf it doesn't even matter to me (and the same is for most of your readers too, I'm sure of it). We've all stuck around with your work for so long, and we have faith in your direction as well as your decisions regarding the pace of the plot. It's never that serious, especially not to the stage that bozos feel the need to weep in a writer's asks and swamp them with negative messages. Go jack off or play dj with your hello kitty and go to sleep like the rest of us.

Again, no matter what you do with your work it's entirely your choice. Ofc we as readers can have our own takes and how or why we interact with the work can vary, but it shouldn't reach this stage. I've seen this same story of bullying and pestering authors on tumblr too many times with other authors whose work I enjoy, and many have left their blogs because the harassment made them lose interest in writing and sharing their pieces. It's fucking heartbreaking. Pornhub dot com is right there for y'all to be doing entirely too much in the asks of these writers who are already overwhelmed and write and share all this FOR FREE. If you have so many qualms about it pick up that bic and get to writing bitch!

I'm sorry babe take care! We love you🫂

AHHH LILYPAD ANON I APPRECIATE U SM THIS MEANS THE WORLD TO ME 😭😭 you’re always so kind to me i sobs

yeahh sigh :( i was just a bit upset that ppl were already finding fault w a chapter i haven’t even released yet just bc it doesn’t have smut in it 😭😭 like i obviously know by now that i can’t make everyone happy, but it’s not right to subtly pressure me into a certain direction for my story (ik this is a normal thing authors/writers have to deal with, i am just a weakling unfortunately 💀💀 my therapist wld agree)

i know it’s not most of my readers though :”) everyone is so sweet n kind n patient, i just don’t understand the some few that think that just bc they tell me they’re disappointed there’s no smut, that i’m somehow gonna go back to my 80pg dissertation of a chapter n make it 100pgs just to add some for them 😅…like no. what it DOES make me feel is icky n sad

frankly it’s really uncomfortable to make an author feel bad that there’s no explicit sexual content in a story 😅 your horny brainrot is showing. like, i AM def planning to write smut in kickoff, there will be multiple smut scenes to come. but even if i suddenly chose not to include them anymore, that’s my right to do so.

and yes, if they want smut, they can write it themselves. why do i need to be the one to write it for you? i don’t owe anyone anything.

i totally agree w you. honestly, i feel bad sometimes setting these boundaries, but you’re SO RIGHT in that SO many authors leave their platforms bc of hateful asks/pressuring comments etc, i’ve seen it time n time again. bc it’s true that it DOES get to people, especially when creating art is already a very stressful thing. i don’t have to passively tolerate rude strangers on the internet just because i’m trying to protect n pursue my passion

thanks sm for trusting my direction :”) and YES absolutely!! i love it when my readers disagree w character actions or emotions, bc characters have flaws n i’m intentional about those flaws, so it’s exciting to see opinions my readers have, even if they’re in disagreement, because it’s interactive w my work. not that i expect anyone to interact ever. i understand that i post on my own accord, so readers can choose whether to interact on their accord as well.

but something about pressuring me into writing explicit sexual content into a story that i’d like to think is a lot more than just smut, is really disheartening.

- ellie 🐸