#above the madhouse

[literaryvein-reblogs]

some words for worldbuilding (pt. 1)

Air

billow, breath, bubble, draft, effervescence, fumes, puff, vapor

Arena

aquarium, bazaar, coliseum, field, hall, mecca, stage

Building

abbey, architecture, armory, asylum, bakery, bar, booth, cathedral, club, construction, court, department store, dock, edifice, emergency room, factory, food court, fort/fortress, framework, garrison, greasy spoon, hacienda, hangout, headquarters, hotel, inn, institute/institution, jetty, laboratory, mansion, mental hospital, monastery, mosque, museum, nursing home, office, pavilion, penitentiary, plant, prison, rampart, repository, ruins, sanctuary, shrine, skyscraper, stockade, storeroom, structure, temple, theater/theatre, treasury, warehouse, wharf

City

capital, metropolis, town, village

Furniture

altar, banister, bench, booth, bunk, cabinet, chair, couch, crib, davenport, dresser, furnishings, futon, jetty, lectern, partition, perch, platform, pulpit, rail/railing, screen, secretary, stand, wardrobe

Geographic division

area, county, desert, dynasty, kingdom, outskirts, quarter, sector, suburb, territory, tract, zone

Habitat

abode, ecosystem, environmentalist, habitat/habitation, harbor, home, land, nest, paradise, premises, refuge, settlement, tent

Habitat, human: accommodations, apartment, barracks, cabin, castle, condominium, convent, domesticity, dungeon, element, encampment, estate, grange, hacienda, home, house, housing, hut, jail, lodging, madhouse, monastery, neighborhood, old country, palace, prison, reservation, resort, sanctuary, shanty, suite, vacancy, villa

Habitat, rural: barn, burrow, conservatory, desert, farm, forest, grange, jungle, sanctuary, wilderness/wilds, wood/woods

Land

abyss, avalanche, bank, bay, bed, bluff, campus, cape, cavern, cliff, compost, cove, crevice/crevasse, dirt, downgrade, dune, elevation, estuary, expanse, field, fossil, garden, glacier, gorge, green, ground, gulf, harbor, hillock, inlet, knoll, landscape, lawn, lot, marshy, menagerie, mine, moat, mound, mountainous, nature, outlook, park, patio, pit, plateau, plaza, porch, prairie, projection, property, quagmire, ravine, ridge, savanna, shelf, soil, stack, table, trench, tundra, valley, well, wood/woods, yard

Nation

country, home, land, nationality, soil, state

Personal item

adornment, amulet, beads, best-seller, briefcase, cache, cargo, charm, contraceptive, disguise, effects, equipment, favorite, gem, glasses, handbag, jewelry, knickknack, luggage, marionette, memorabilia, necklace, novelty, object d’art, odds-on-favorite, paraphernalia, pledge, possession, pride, puppet, purse, resources, ring, souvenir, stuff, supplies, sustenance, thing/things, trappings, trifle, valuable

Planet

cosmos, Earth, galaxy, moon, planet, sphere, world

Region

capital, commonwealth, quarter, region, settlement, suburb

Room

alcove, attic, bath, bedroom, boutique, cellar, den, enclosure, foyer, gin mill, hall, lavatory, loft, outhouse, parlor, restaurant, saloon, shop, stage, store, tenement, theater/theatre, vestibule

Shape

angular, beaten, billowy, checkered, concave, conical/conic, crescent, curly, deformed, elliptical, flat, gnarled, kinky, misshapen, obtuse, round, shapeless, spiral, straight

Vehicle

camper, conveyance, motorcade, transport

Vehicle, air: aircraft, armada, blimp, dirigible, helicopter, shuttle, UFO

Vehicle, land: ambulance, bicycle, car, cherry-picker, dolly, excavator, model, traffic, truck

Vehicle, water: armada, boat, craft, fleet, sailboat, yacht

Water

abyss, aqueduct, basin, beach, blackball, brook, cape, channel, condensation, creek, deep, estuary, fountain, gulf, heading, inlet, lake, oasis, pond, promontory, reservoir, sea, spray, strait, tide, wash, wave, whirlpool

NOTE

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary.

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary

[xo100]

hii i have this idea. yn and lando dont know each other yet. yn is driving back from work crashes into lando and his mclaren (small accident nothing big) and lando is mad until he sees her and love at first sight haha and offers to help her with insurance and tries to get her number and shes just confused and doesnt know who he is.

Thank youu in advance.

A Minor Collision, A Major Connection - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2796

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The Friday afternoon sky was draped in golden hues as Y/N tiredly made her way back home after a long, grueling day at work. The office had been a madhouse—endless meetings, deadlines creeping up, and not enough coffee to power through it all. The only thing keeping her going was the thought of collapsing onto her couch and losing herself in a Netflix binge.

Her car, a reliable little sedan, buzzed softly as she cruised down the quiet city streets. She sighed, tuning out the low hum of traffic around her. It was just another day, nothing special. That is, until—

BANG!

Y/N’s heart lurched as her car jerked to the side. She slammed on the brakes, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Her mind raced through what just happened. Did she hit something? Or worse… someone?

Her pulse spiked as she fumbled to unbuckle her seatbelt and threw open the door. But when she stepped out to inspect the damage, the first thing she saw wasn’t a crumpled bumper or a mangled fender. No, it was a sleek, dark blue sports car, glossy and absurdly out of place against the backdrop of regular vehicles. Her little sedan had smacked into the rear of it.

“Great,” she muttered, pushing a hand through her hair. Her car had bumped into what was probably one of the most expensive cars in the city, if not the country.

And standing beside it, inspecting the minor damage with a furrowed brow and an expression that was a blend of frustration and disbelief, was none other than Lando Norris. Though Y/N had no clue who he was. To her, he was just some annoyed guy standing next to his ruined car.

“What were you even doing?!” the man exclaimed, turning towards her with his arms outstretched in exasperation. His voice held a British lilt, his tone more incredulous than angry.

Y/N froze. “I—I didn’t see you! You came out of nowhere!”

“Out of nowhere?” he echoed, shaking his head as he knelt to inspect his McLaren’s bumper. There was a tiny dent, barely noticeable, but to him, it was as if the whole car had been wrecked. He took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself.

Y/N bit her lip, anxiety creeping up her spine. Her mind was a mess—how much was this going to cost her? Could insurance even cover damages on a car that expensive? This whole situation was unreal.

But then something strange happened.

The man, still crouched by the car, lifted his head to look at her properly for the first time. His eyes met hers, and his expression softened. He blinked, standing slowly as if he was trying to process something. His initial frustration seemed to melt away, replaced by a bemused sort of interest.

“Uh… Are you okay?” he asked, his tone much gentler now, his earlier irritation completely gone.

Y/N blinked. Wasn’t he supposed to be mad at her? She had just hit his expensive car, after all. Why was he suddenly acting so… concerned?

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m just… sorry about your car.”

Lando, however, waved her apology away like it was nothing. “Don’t worry about the car. It’s really not that bad.”

Y/N gave him a skeptical look. “Really? Because it looks like I did a number on it.”

He glanced back at the car, then at her, before letting out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, well, it’s just a car. What matters is that you’re alright.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. This guy was acting way too nice for someone whose luxury car had just been rear-ended. She couldn’t help but feel like there was something off about his sudden shift in mood.

“Okay…” she trailed off awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. “But still, we should probably exchange insurance info. I don’t know how much this is going to cost to fix.”

Lando’s expression brightened at the mention of exchanging information, and for a split second, Y/N swore she saw a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, sure, insurance,” he replied, reaching for his phone, “but honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. I can handle it on my own. Maybe we can just forget about it? I could… help you out.”

Y/N’s confusion deepened. Help her out? Wasn’t it her fault in the first place? Why was he acting like this was no big deal? And why was he looking at her like that, like he was trying to keep her there longer than necessary?

Lando shifted his weight, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t mean to sound weird, but… do you, uh, live around here?”

“Why?” Y/N asked cautiously, narrowing her eyes at him.

Lando chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. He suddenly felt like a nervous schoolboy, which was ridiculous because he was Lando Norris, F1 driver and world-class athlete, yet here he was fumbling over his words.

“Well, I just thought maybe we could grab a coffee or something. You know, after we sort all this out.”

Y/N blinked at him, utterly bewildered. “Wait. You want to get coffee? With me? After I just hit your car?”

Lando shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah. Why not? Accidents happen. And… I guess I think you’re kind of cute.”

Her eyes widened. Was this guy for real? She’d just crashed into his sports car and now he was trying to flirt with her?

“Uh… I don’t even know your name,” she said slowly, still trying to wrap her head around the situation.

He grinned, sticking out his hand. “I’m Lando. Lando Norris.”

She stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before taking it hesitantly. “Y/N. And, um… nice to meet you?”

Lando’s smile widened, his earlier frustration completely forgotten as he focused entirely on her. “Nice to meet you too, Y/N. So, about that coffee…”

“I’m sorry, are you seriously asking me out right now?” she asked, a slight laugh escaping her lips. “After I hit your car?”

Lando shrugged again, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. “What can I say? I’m a pretty forgiving guy.”

Y/N shook her head, still half-expecting this whole thing to be some sort of bizarre dream. “Okay, but… you didn’t even get my insurance information yet. Isn’t that why we’re still standing here?”

Lando waved a dismissive hand. “Like I said, it’s really no big deal. I’ll take care of it. Just… let me get your number, and we’ll figure it out from there.”

Now she was really suspicious. “My number?”

He grinned sheepishly. “For the insurance, of course.”

Y/N stared at him, trying to figure out if he was messing with her or if he was actually being serious. She wasn’t sure what was stranger—the fact that he was acting like the accident was nothing or the fact that he seemed more interested in getting her number than fixing his expensive car.

But there was something about him, something oddly charming, even though the whole situation was insane. Maybe it was his easygoing nature or the way he didn’t seem to care about the damage at all. Or maybe it was the way he kept looking at her, like she was the most interesting person he’d met all day.

With a sigh, she reached for her phone. “Fine. But I’m giving you my number strictly for insurance purposes.”

Lando’s grin grew wider, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Strictly insurance purposes. Got it.”

As she handed him her number, Y/N couldn’t help but shake her head in disbelief. What had started as a minor accident was quickly turning into the weirdest encounter of her life.

“Alright,” she said, putting her phone away, “I’ve gotta go. But, um, thanks for not being too mad about the car.”

Lando chuckled, leaning casually against his McLaren. “Like I said, it’s just a car. But you… well, you’re worth more than any car.”

Y/N stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or be weirded out by the line. “Uh, okay. Well… take care.”

As she got back into her car, Lando watched her with a grin still on his face. Maybe the accident wasn’t so bad after all. After all, he’d managed to meet someone who had caught his attention in a way no one else had.

And as Y/N drove away, still shaking her head at the absurdity of it all, she couldn’t help but wonder just what she’d gotten herself into.

-

The weekend had finally arrived, and despite the awkward car crash, Y/N had managed to put it out of her mind. She wasn’t expecting to hear from Lando again. After all, rich guys like him probably had people to take care of things like insurance claims. She figured she’d given him her number for nothing more than a courtesy exchange.

That was, until her phone buzzed the next morning.

She glanced at the screen, eyebrows shooting up at the unknown number. Hesitating for a second, she finally opened the message.

Lando: Hey, it’s Lando. The guy whose car you hit? Not sure if you remember me, but I’ve got some paperwork for insurance and stuff. Thought we could meet up and go over it?

Y/N rolled her eyes, half-amused. It was still weird to her that someone so nonchalant about the accident was bothering to text her. She tapped out a quick response.

Y/N: Yeah, I remember. Where and when?

He replied almost immediately.

Lando: How about that coffee I mentioned? There’s a café in the city, small, chill. We can talk there?

Coffee again? He really wasn’t subtle. Y/N bit her lip, debating. She didn’t have anything to do that afternoon anyway, and she supposed she owed him at least a meeting about the insurance.

So, reluctantly, she agreed.

-

The café Lando had suggested was tucked away on a quiet street corner, its large windows letting in the warm afternoon sun. Y/N pushed open the door, immediately greeted by the rich scent of roasted coffee beans. She scanned the room, expecting Lando to be hidden away somewhere.

Instead, she saw him immediately.

Sitting casually at a table near the window, dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans, he waved when he saw her. His face lit up with a boyish grin that made him seem far less intimidating than the guy she’d crashed into just days before.

“Hey,” he greeted as she approached, standing to pull out a chair for her. “You made it.”

“Yeah, well, I figured we should get this insurance stuff sorted,” she replied, sitting down. She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on her just a bit longer than necessary.

Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, the insurance thing…”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest. “You did bring the paperwork, right? That’s why we’re here?”

He looked slightly sheepish, then reached into his bag and pulled out a few documents. “Of course. Got everything right here.”

She eyed him suspiciously, but nodded. “Okay, good. Let’s get it over with.”

Lando handed her the papers, but as she scanned them, he leaned back in his chair, watching her with an amused expression. He wasn’t saying anything, but Y/N could practically feel his eyes on her.

Finally, she looked up. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just… you’re very focused. Kind of cute.”

Y/N groaned, shaking her head. “Are you seriously flirting with me right now? This is the second time you’ve done that.”

Lando shrugged, his grin widening. “Can’t help it. You kind of walked into my life by crashing into my car. Feels like fate, doesn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Or just bad driving.”

“Or that,” he agreed with a laugh.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his easygoing attitude. There was something about him that made it hard to stay annoyed. He had this infectious charm, the kind that made you forget about everything else. She didn’t know much about him, other than his name and the fact that he clearly had a lot of money, but there was something undeniably likable about him.

Still, she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily.

“So, Lando,” she began, setting the papers down, “what exactly do you do? Because you’ve got a really fancy car, and you act like a guy who’s used to getting what he wants.”

His grin didn’t falter. “You don’t know?”

She shook her head. “No clue. Should I?”

Lando leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Well, I’m a Formula 1 driver. Kind of a big deal in motorsport.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment, processing his words. Then she blinked, completely unfazed. “Okay, so… you’re like a racecar driver?”

He laughed at how nonchalantly she said it. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Huh.” She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. “That explains the car.”

“Explains a lot of things,” he teased, his eyes twinkling. “Still, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me. It’s kind of refreshing, actually.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

“Most people know who I am,” he admitted. “It’s nice to meet someone who doesn’t immediately treat me like I’m… you know, famous.”

“Well, lucky for you, I don’t follow racing,” she said with a small smile. “I’m just trying to figure out why a guy like you is wasting time flirting with a girl who wrecked his car.”

Lando leaned forward, his playful expression softening slightly. “Because maybe I like that girl who wrecked my car.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the sudden sincerity in his tone. She wasn’t sure what to make of this whole situation. The flirty banter was one thing, but now it felt like there was something more behind his words. Something genuine.

“I don’t get it,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “We’ve barely talked. You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” Lando replied, his gaze locking with hers. “And I want to get to know more.”

Y/N swallowed, feeling a strange mix of nerves and curiosity. This wasn’t what she’d expected when she agreed to meet him. She thought it would be a quick, awkward conversation about insurance, not… this.

“Lando, I don’t even know if I want to date someone right now,” she admitted, unsure of what else to say.

He nodded, his expression serious. “That’s fair. I’m not asking for anything big. Just… let me take you out sometime. No pressure. If you don’t like it, we’ll call it even, and you never have to see me again.”

Y/N hesitated, searching his face for any sign that he was messing with her. But all she saw was sincerity. He wasn’t being pushy or demanding, just… hopeful.

After a long pause, she finally sighed. “Fine. One date. But if you turn out to be some crazy celebrity playboy, I’m out.”

Lando’s grin returned, brighter than ever. “Deal.”

-

A week later, Y/N found herself walking into a small, intimate restaurant Lando had chosen for their first date. She was nervous, still unsure about the whole thing, but when she saw him waiting at the entrance with that same goofy grin, her nerves eased a little.

The night went better than she could’ve imagined. Lando wasn’t just some cocky racecar driver—he was funny, down-to-earth, and surprisingly sweet. He asked about her job, her hobbies, her favorite books, and genuinely seemed interested in everything she said. By the end of the night, Y/N realized she was actually having fun.

As they left the restaurant, Lando walked her to her car, the same little sedan that had started this whole mess. He turned to her, hands in his pockets, a slightly shy smile on his face.

“So,” he began, “how was it? Am I still in your good books, or are you planning to never see me again?”

Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “You’re still in the good books.”

“Good to know,” Lando replied, relief evident in his voice. “I guess that means I can ask for another date?”

Y/N bit her lip, pretending to think about it. “Yeah, I guess you can.”

Lando’s grin was contagious, and before Y/N knew it, she was smiling too.

And just like that, a minor collision had turned into something unexpected. Something more.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

[sp0o0kylights]

There were a lot of things Mike hated in life.

The demogorgon, and how it had essentially destroyed his life.

 Brenner, and the madhouse laboratory El had survived. 

How each and every one of his friends now did something weird--were weird, because flashing lights or fireworks or some stupid tune a toy horse played dragged up memories that made their eyes flat and faces hollow. 

Most of all though, Mike hated how much they relied on Steve.

There was no reason he should be the person to call when it started pouring and no one wanted to bike home from AV. 

Steve wasn’t Nancy, or Jonathan, or a parent--he wasn’t even dating anyone related to any of the Party anymore so what excuse did he have to keep hanging around? 

(Even if Jonathan was always working, and Nancy was always busy with some club or homework, and everyone’s parents all seemed to be in a race of who could get back to normal the fastest…) 

They should at least try to get a hold of other people, instead of constantly going to Steve first.

“Why?” Dusitn had scoffed at him the last time this had happened, feeding quarters into a phone and staring at Mike like he was the one being unreasonable. “I’m not gonna waste money just to hear your sister tell us no again when we all know Steve will do it.” 

Which was perhaps the most infuriating part of it all.

That Steve would do it. 

Show up and help them, even if he bitched the whole time. 

Hell, Steve Harrington knew more about Mike’s life offhand than Nancy did, and that made him want to punch a wall more days than it didn’t. Why the hell was Steve so involved? 

It was stupid. 

Weird, even! They weren’t friends, (even if Dustin and Max and El of all people said the opposite) he wasn’t being paid to babysit, (Mike had double checked; going round to ask Ma Henderson and Mrs. Sinclair, only to get an earful of how wonderful Steve was from both.) he had no reason to hang around! 

It didn’t make sense that Steve could be harassed into picking them up from school. 

Would take them to get ice cream, or hand over extra quarters for the arcade. He even gave out advice like some kind of--brother that Mike had never wanted. 

Above all?

Mike hated that when he needed someone, the number he punched in on automatic was Steve’s.

“I need you to come get me.” He said into the receiver, mad at himself and the world, but mostly mad that beyond the normal amount of squawking Steve did, he shut up and came. 

Drove up in his rich boy car, stepping out and herding Mike into it like the rain hadn’t already seeped into his bones. 

“You wanna tell me why you snuck into a bar two towns over?” Steve asked, long after Mike had slung himself into the passenger seat, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

“No.” 

One of Steve’s hands went right to his hair, running through it before adjusting the mess he’d just made. 

It was a nervous habit, and Mike hated that he knew that too. 

“Okay, well.” Steve’s hand fell back to the steering wheel, clenching tight around it. “Next time you want to do something dumb could you at least come talk to me about it beforehand?”

“What the hell would that do?” Mike bitched, staring firmly out of the window. 

“Not waste my gas for starters.” Steve bitched right back. “But I dunno man, we could have taken some bats and gone and wailed on cars in the junkyard and talked or some shit, not--whatever this all was.”

‘This all’ was accompanied by a wave of his hand, indicating not just the bar Mike had been standing in front of, but his general sopping wet state. 

“You’d actually go to the junkyard with me?” Mike challenged, doubtful. 

Steve made a face. “Did you lose your hearing in there? I just said--.” 

“Why?” Mike interrupted. “Why the fuck would you come out with me?”

Matching his entire aggressive tone, Steve said; “Because it’s better than trying to sneak into the one local gay bar when you’re barely fourteen, Michael.” 

And that? 

Steve being oddly aware of shit he really shouldn’t have?

Mike hated that too. 

“You knew what the bar was?” He asked, his voice coming out much smaller than he intended. 

“Everyone knows what that bar is, except it’s more of a biker bar than a gay bar.” Steve shot back--which did actually explain about ten different questions Mike had about the place. “Also, language you little shit.” 

Under his breath, Steve continued in a muttered; “I swear I’m going to start carrying around soap.”

“You cuss more than we do.” Mike responded, and if his own voice was a little strangled as he fought back the sudden swell of tears, then that was between him and God. 

He was not crying in front of Steve Harrington, he outright refused. 

“The point I’m making is that there are way better bars to sneak into. That one’s not nearly as welcoming as people make it out to be, probably because they’re sick of all the rumors.” 

Steve seemed to realize what he was implying because he quickly added; “Not that you should be sneaking into any bars at all!” 

“You’re not my mom.” Mike’s voice turned wet as he lost his battle with his throat, voice cracking as he failed to choke the tears back.  

“No shit Wheeler.”  Steve said, and at least he was good enough not to call attention to Mike’s crying. 

If he had, Mike was pretty sure he’d just up and die of embarrassment, right there. 

“I don’t get why you care.” He muttered, angrily swiping at his eyes. 

“I didn’t keep you alive this long just so you could die of something stupid.” Steve countered easily.

Which was kinda fair, if you thought about it.

Mike very much did not want to think about it. 

Any of it.

Ever. 

“Are you gonna tell my parents?” He asked after a painfully long moment. 

Long enough that Steve had begun fiddling with the radio, trying to find a station as they drove back that wasn’t wailing country or gospel music. 

“I’m not a narc, so no.”  

“Not about the bar.”  

Now Steve just looked confused. 

Probably because he was, because he was without a doubt the stupidest almost adult Mike knew. 

(Not that he could say that out loud--last time he had, Max had made one of her pissy faces and then El got mad because Max was, which led to a break up, which led to Mike having to beg his way back into his girlfriend’s good graces while explaining that he hadn’t meant it like that.

“How did you mean it then?” Max demanded, and Mike wasn’t sure how he managed to dodge that entire conversation but he had, on grounds that untangling his own emotions regarding stupid Steve made him want to pull his hair out and scream.) 

“What about then?” 

 “You know. Don’t make me say it.” Mike absolutely didn’t plead, even if it did sort of, kind of, sound like pleading. 

Steve flicked his eyes away from the road to give one long, weird look at Mike. The same one he gave Dustin when he went off on a rant about Cerebro or Lucas when he started discussing the stats of different D&D weapons. 

Unlike those times, Steve’s face cleared. 

“Oh.” He said, blinking, and Mike could practically see the light bulb flash above his head.

Then; 

“Nah.” 

Mike waited.

And waited.

And kept waiting as Steve went back to searching through radio channels, as if that was the end of the conversation.

It couldn't be the end of this conversation.

Not when this was the part that was eating Mike alive.

He didn’t know if this was Steve repressing it on purpose or if this was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life if he kept trying to figure his own head out, but either way, he knew he had a choice to make. 

To let the unspoken part of today die quietly. Go unsaid, and remain unsaid, for all eternity--or he could let it out. 

Shove the “gay” part of “gay bar” in Steve’s stupid, jock face. 

Make him acknowledge it, even if it got Mike kicked out of the car, and who cared if it did? 

Steve wasn’t the person who should have picked him up anyway. 

The anger climbed higher and higher in his chest, tears and rage combining until Mike spat it all out, furious. 

“You’re not going to ask if I’m gay?”  

Steve didn’t turn to face him, but Mike saw his eyebrow cocking anyway, given how he was currently glaring a hole in the side of the older teen’s head. 

“Do you want me to?” 

“No.” Mike bit out automatically. “Yes. I don’t know!” 

Steve’s hand found its way back into his hair. 

“Okay then.” Steve paused, clearly fishing for something to say. 

Gleefully, Mike watched him struggle. 

“Do you like guys?” He managed finally, looking like he was navigating a minefield more than just talking.

“I don’t know.” Mike stressed, sinking lower in his seat. “Why do you think I was at the bar? I was trying to figure it out!” 

“Honestly I assumed this was some sort of stupid dare--but!” Steve held up a finger, before Mike could interrupt, “But let’s--shit, hold on, I had a speech for this but I kinda wasn’t expecting to use it this soon. Um.”

“You have a speech for me being gay?”

“Not for you.” Steve rolled his eyes. “For--in general! It was an in general, just in case speech!” 

He rounded on Mike, for longer than the younger was comfortable with given Steve took his eyes off the road to do it. “Okay--you can like boobies, you can like, uh--not boobies, and that’s fine! It’s all totally fine!” 

“You are not making it sound like it’s fine.” Mike said, feeling like he’d been taken out by hearing Steve say the word “boobies.” 

Gross, gross, gross. 

“Well it is.” Steve said, in a tone that felt like he was two seconds from adding in a smarmy ‘so there!’ at the end. 

“But I’m dating El.” Mike whined, which really, was both the heart of the matter and the eye of the storm that had been growing in his head for months now. “I can’t be gay if I like her.” 

“Don’t you guys break up and get together like four times a week?”

“No, that's Max and Lucas, El and I are stable.” Mike scoffed. “Or we--we were stable.” 

Before he started to have thoughts about people that weren't his girlfriend. 

Or women.

“Stable for being in middle school, sure.” Steve snorted. “You don’t just have to like one or the other you know. You can like dudes and chicks at the same time.”

Which Mike did not know, on account of being fourteen. 

He did his absolute damndest not to show that realization, instead adding that to the list of reasons why he hated Steve Harrington too.

Steve shouldn't be the one teaching him about who you could like!

“The point is that who you end up loving isn’t a problem.” Steve finally looked back to the road. “Other people might be an issue, and those people we can punch in the face so long as the cops aren’t looking, which isn’t part of the speech so let’s not tell people I said that part, but whatever you do choose, there’s nothing wrong with you.” 

Steve’s voice went firm, as he apparently recalled his speech or something close enough to it because his next words sounded a little rehearsed. “You have people who are here for you, no matter what. Okay?” 

Oh God, Mike was crying again. 

He wanted to punch Steve in his stupid face.

Wanted to hold onto the fury he'd built inside himself. Thrash around, throw himself out of the car, get away from the emotions that felt too big for his chest to contain. 

Instead he felt it all break on Steve's acceptance. On word's he didn't know he needed to hear until they'd been spoken, and sniffed out a quiet; “Okay.” 

Steve of course had to take it too far by reaching over and patting his knee, which they both regretted judging by how quickly Steve took his hand back and the face Mike made at his hand--but it…

It was appreciated, even amongst all Mike's rage.

Steve was appreciated. 

Not that Mike would ever, on pain of death, tell him that. 

Neither said a word for a while, Steve finally landing on a radio that was playing some Top 40 hit, Tears for Fears singing about ruling the world while Mike found himself trying to rebuild his own once again, tired of it having shattered so many times over. 

At least he finally felt better, even if he refused to admit Steve was the reason for it. 

He wasn’t quite done though.

 There was a piece Steve had skipped over, that Mike felt was critically important, if only because it was partly the reason he was having thoughts about being gay in the first place. 

He had to know if Steve saw it too. 

That it wasn’t just him and his stupid head, making up things that weren’t there. 

“Hey Steve?” 

“Yeah?”

“Who was the speech for?” 

Steve sighed. 

“Rule one of the whole queer thing Wheeler, you don’t out other people.” 

Like there were written rules or something.

(Maybe there were, it wasn't like Mike knew.)

“Was it Will?” Mike asked, and pretended like he didn’t desperately want the answer to be yes. 

 Steve didn’t say a thing, but the fact he nearly took the car off the road was a pretty solid answer in itself. 

“We’re not playing guessing games about other people’s sexualites!” He yelped, hands gripping the steering wheel as Mike felt a wave of relief crash through him. 

Will was--maybe, possibly, also--queer too. 

Which didn’t make this any better but it--wasn’t the not preferred outcome, either. 

(It wasn’t just Mike struggling alone, trying to figure out if his best friend wanted to be more than that, if El was breaking up with him and more and more because she wanted to be less than a girlfriend, if things were changing and he would have no one--) 

“I’m not out here picking Will up from a gay bar dipshit, I’m picking you up, and this is your reminder that next time, you should just come talk to me!” Steve ranted. 

Mike snorted.

He absolutely hated Steve Harrington, but--

“Fine.” He said, talking so low he could barely be heard. “I will.”

--maybe Mike did have someone in his corner after all. 

Even if it was just Steve. 

xXx

Bonus: 

“Between you and me, that kid is gayer than a two dollar bill.” 

“Wow Robin,” Steve teased, “Isn’t that like, a slur or whatever?” 

He snickered when she rolled her eyes and threw a roll of stickers his way. 

“I’m just saying. Did you see the way he was looking at you when you were showing off your stupid biceps?” Robin said, nudging her shoulder into Steve’s. “Will’s gonna have a rude awakening later if he hasn’t already.” 

Steve nudged her back, but kept his gaze on the Party as they trooped their way from Family Video to the arcade next door, the realization that they now had connections for free rentals making them downright gleeful. 

Will was the last one in, and Steve watched him hurry so as to not be left behind. 

He didn’t like to worry about the dipshits, but Robin was just putting voice to a thought Steve knew he wasn’t the first person to have.

And if he noticed it, then it didn't exactly bode well as being kept a secret. 

“Should we like…talk to him about that?” He asked after a long moment, turning to face Robin.

“Us?” She pointed at herself, before turning her finger on Steve. “Why us?” 

“Well you’re into girls.” He gave her a pointed look, glad that the store was empty of everyone but them so he could actually voice all this. “And I’m fine with it.”

“Yeah I’m sure he wants to know you’re fine with it.” Robin taunted, but she had her thinking face on, eyes out to the middle distance. “I barely know him. You barely know him--he’s the quietest out of all your kids.”

“They’re not my kids.” Steve argued automatically. “They're like a weird cross between shitty siblings and that kid in your class who never leaves you alone.” 

A fact Steve no longer took for granted, even if he made it sound like the worst thing ever.

“I just think it’d be nice if he knew that he had people in his corner, you know? Who supported him and shit.” 

“Steve, you compared my crush to a muppet, that wasn’t supportive.” Robin countered, but it too was on automatic. 

Softer she admitted; “You’re right though. If I had known other queer people, if I had known people would accept me...it would have made things a lot easier.”

A very long pause, in which both of them stewed for a moment, before Robin abruptly slapped her hand down on the table.

“Okay, you got me. We're doing it, and I'm making us a speech.”

“A speech?” 

“Yes dingus, a speech. I know you, you’re terrible when you’re put on the spot with this kinda thing, and trust me with things like this the moment will be spontaneous.”

“It’s Will, how spontaneous can it be?” Steve challenged back. “Getting a dinner order out of him is a chore.” 

“Stop whining and hand me that notepad. Im telling you its gonna happen when you least expect it and then you're gonna thank me later.”

“It better not happen without you.”  Steve sighed, but passed the notepad over.

God the things he did for those stupid kids. 

Bonus x2

Steve would later go on to use the speech on himself, in a gas station bathroom mirror, eyes wide and freaked out after Eddie Munson called him Big Boy in a van they stole, while Robin snickered behind him. 

He would turn on her, snapping that she; “Help me with this dammit!” 

In return she’d remind him that Tammy might sing like a muppet but Eddie  was the guy who stepped on lunches while giving speeches at lunch and sticking his tongue out, and “Really Steve, I think I won best gay awakening, here.” 

Which would promptly start an argument regarding how it wasn’t a competition, which would continue for another fifteen or so odd years before finding its way as a reference into both of their speeches as each other’s best man. 

Nancy and Eddie wouldn’t get it at either wedding, but Mike would.

[garbinge]

Earthquakes and Promotions

Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of bullets, war, shrapnel, earthquakes, injuries, blood, trauma, bruising. Light hurt/comfort. 

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Ask and you shall receive! More Tim and F!Nurse Reader!!! Altho... I think she might be changing careers soon...lol Hope y’all enjoy! 

The Rookie Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics​ @simrah1012 

“Thanks for buying me lunch.” You looked up to Tim who was in his full patrol uniform. 

“Next time you’re coming down to the food trucks by the station.” Tim said as he rested his arms on his work belt. 

You let out a humorous breath and bumped your shoulder against him as you walked through the hospital halls. “I told you not to get a hot meal, you gotta stick with sandwiches or simple sides.” 

Tim’s gaze moved over to you and his eyebrows raised and a small smirk grew on his face. 

“But yea, next time I’ll come to the trucks. Things were just really busy in the ER today, lucky I was able to step away for 20 minutes.” 

“What types of things you seein’?” Tim’s voice turned from normal to on edge. 

“Just accidents, nothing LAPD needs to be worried about, I think I got one drug OD but no GSWs.” You explained knowing exactly what was happening in Tim’s mind. 

Before he could answer there was a whooshing noise followed by the ground beneath them shaking. You both stumbled trying to find your footing as the land beneath you shifted and shook. A few non stationary items shifted places, carts rolling fast and slammed into walls. One managed to roll right into your abdomen, moving too quick for you to move out of its way. These hospital carts were easily 500 lbs with the computers and equipment on them, and the speed at which it came crashing into you, they could cause some real damage. 

You yelled out in pain and pushed the cart against the wall behind you as Tim moved towards you and pushed you both into a doorway and on the ground. 

While you were in pain, your torso throbbing from the cart, you called out to everyone who was in your vision. 

“Everyone down!” 

Tim looked up and did the same, “Cover your heads!” 

His body hovered over yours, shielding you from anything falling above, his grip on your arms tight as you both ducked your heads in the doorway. 

Shelves were falling over, dust and debris fell from the ceiling and everything was shifted and out of place, and when the shaking had finally stopped, that’s when the crisis kicked in. Voices and cries for help came from just about everywhere in the hospital once the ground settled. There was chance of an aftershock, but that was the last thing on people’s minds right now. 

“You okay?” Tim said standing up and bringing you up with him, his grip still firm on your arms. 

“Yea, just a bruise, nothing I can’t handle.” You turned around and gripped his arms just as tight back. It felt like minutes but you knew it was just a few milliseconds. 

Tim was a first responder and you thrived in tactical medicine. While Tim knew you were hurt he also knew you wouldn’t consider it a priority in comparison to everything else, and you knew Tim wasn’t going to push you to get checked out right now, you were both going to put the job first. 

All those thoughts happened within seconds, in the next second, you both looked at each other and nodded knowing you both had a job to do. 

“I need to assess the ER, it’s going to be a madhouse.” You game planned with Tim. 

“I can help here but depending on volume I’ll probably have to hit the streets, looting, accidents, all that.” You and him were now moving towards the trauma center bay. 

You opened the doors and you clocked it, a mad house. Easily two dozen people, all injured and the staff were moving around assisting who they could. Taking in the scene you stood up on the check in desk and brought your fingers to your lips and a loud whistle echoed. 

“Fractures, broken bones, dislocations to the left please!” A group of people shifted over to the side. 

“What if you don’t know if it’s broken!” Someone called out. 

“If you have any pain in your arms and legs move to the left please!” You answered them quickly and moved on to the next group. 

“Lacerations, cuts, bruises right please!” Another group moved over quickly. 

That left you with a group in the middle, this was probably the group with the worst injury, too out of it to understand or move, or internal issues. 

“Marsha, attend to the left, prioritize based on pain scale and your discretion. Allen, take the right, prioritize head lacerations and deep cuts and anything NEAR an artery. David and Natalia, you’re helping me with the middle where pretty much everyone is a priority. Everyone else fill in where you can, stay alert, stay liquid.” 

You moved down from the table and planted a quick kiss on Tim’s lips. “Love you, go be a hero.” And before he could respond you were moving to the  middle section and getting people in beds and ordering tests and just honestly really succeeding in conditions that were set up for failure. 

________

The day was long, it was pretty much never ending. You lost track of time, you were probably well over your normal shift time but this was what they saved that overtime for. Not that it would have mattered or made a difference, you would have stayed regardless. The people of LA needed your help. 

It was probably 2AM when things slowed down. You had attended to all the walk-ins, all the EMT emergencies, all the intake patients who were hurt and needed to be brought into the ER, all the trauma patients and even all the hurt employees. Which meant it was your turn. 

You ached your way up onto the gurney, lifting your scrub top up to show the large bruise that expanded from your abdomen and a little on your lower chest. 

“It’s a minor crush injury, probably a bruised rib and pelvis.” Marsha, the nurse on your team who also stayed overnight spoke as she assessed your wound. “We should do a CT scan and MRI to be safe, it’ll be covered under the hospital since you were injured on the job.” She explained knowing you were about to come up with excuses. 

“Covered or not, order the tests.” Tim’s voice alerted both of you. 

“I’ll go put the order in.” Marsha excused herself with a smile and nod, leaving you and Tim in the ER. 

“It looks worse than it feels.” You pulled your scrubs down and moved off the gurney as Tim walked closer to you. 

“Tell me that when we’re home and you can’t sleep because the pain is keeping you up.” He brought you into a hug, his hand cupping your head and his other hand rubbing up and down your back. 

“This is new.” You pulled your head out of the hug and looked up at Tim, using your right hand and thumb to slightly move over his forehead where a cut was dried up and bruised.

“Got punched by someone.” 

You frowned, shocked that Tim had let someone catch him with his guard down. 

“Looters, one of ‘em put up a fight, not a big deal.” He shrugged and nodded for you to jump back up on the gurney. “C’mon, take a beat.” 

“Must’ve been a hell of a fight. Let me clean it?” You asked him, looking up to his face. 

“Tell me what to grab.” He nodded and moved to the cabinets next to the gurney. 

“First and third shelf. Butterfly bandage, gauze, and saline.” You ordered him.

“No alcohol?” He looked over his shoulder at you. 

“Can’t scar that pretty face.” You smirked. “We aren’t overseas at war anymore, I can treat you properly now.” 

Tim brought up a chair so he was sitting in front of you. “No more ziplock bags filled with bottled water to clean cuts?” 

“Or taking my shirt off to wrap around your injuries as a makeshift bandage.” You poured a couple drops of saline over his cut and took the gauze to catch the leftover. 

With his eyes closed, he spoke up. “Hey, I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

You stayed silent, a small smile forming on your face but with Tim’s eyes closed he couldn’t tell. Which is why he opened the eye that wasn’t being treated to gauge your response.

“Easy, officer. Flirting with your RN can get you into some trouble.” You placed the butterfly bandage over his brow and leaned back when you were done. 

“And what about flirting with my wife?” He leaned back himself. 

“Different kind of trouble.” You teased him and he laughed. 

“You know, you handled this morning well. Gave good orders. Prioritized properly. Reminded me of when I met you.” Tim said as you waited for Marsha to come back. 

“When I yelled at you to stop standing there and get your hands dirty?” 

“And then took your shirt off to bandage my abdomen.” He teased. 

“And then yelled at you to stay with me.” You retorted back. 

“Yea, lot of yelling.” Tim nodded. 

“Hey, the bomb went off pretty close, most of it was noise-induced hearing loss.” 

“Technically that wasn’t the first time we met.” Tim stood up now and his head moved to indicate for you to move over a little so he could sit next to you. 

“We met at briefing.” You wrapped your arm around his and leaned your head on his shoulder. 

His head fell on yours, “Didn’t say anything to you but–” 

“You wouldn’t stop staring.” You chuckled. 

Tim laughed back, “No. I couldn’t.” 

There was a silence between you two for a while, your hand dancing around his as you waited. 

“I’ve been thinking.” Tim said, his head was still leaning on yours. “Maybe you should move back into tactical medicine.” 

“Like paramedics?” You frowned. 

“Yea or maybe a TEMS officer.” He shrugged, you felt it as your head lifted.

“Like SWAT?” You asked him, still confused. “I’m not LAPD, don’t think that’s possible.” 

“You have tactical training from being in the Marines, you’re a RN in the emergency and trauma department, and I could get Sergeant Grey to put in a word, two Sergeants recommendations plus your experience, and some training, you’d be golden.” Tim explained. 

“Two Sergeants?” You lifted your head up and turned to him. His smile grew and he looked down before looking back at you. “Apparently Grey was going to tell me this afternoon but everything happened so he told me on the way out. About 30 minutes ago.” 

Your jaw dropped and your grip on Tim’s hand tightened, a squeal left your mouth and you hugged him, despite the pain you were in. “So that means when I call you Sarge it’ll actually be true.” You beamed. 

“It will.” He nodded shyly, “It is.” His eyebrows raised and another shrug fell off his shoulders. 

“It’s well deserved.” You moved your hand up to his cheek. 

“I’m serious about you becoming a TEMS officer.” He looked into your eyes. But before you could respond Marsha’s voice caused both of you to turn towards her.

“We can take you to get the tests now, I rush ordered them, figured you’d want to get home sooner rather than later.” Masha said with a smile. 

You turned back to Tim, knowing this was a larger conversation to be had. 

“Go, I’ll be here waiting.” 

You got up from the gurney and stared at Marsha who had the wheelchair in her hands. 

“Hospital policy.” She knew exactly what you were thinking. 

With a sigh, your shoulders fell and you collapsed into the wheelchair and sunk into it fully relaxed with a smile and gave Tim a quick wink. 

 “I’ll see you soon, Sarge.”

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

I came in making some REAL confident statements about the Lodger designs and these guys are just proving me so wrong lmao. I still love them though

I still stand by some of my points about the goggles and gloves? In that it makes the Lodgers uniquely science-y. I also still think that the various states of protective wear tells you something about how each of the Lodgers works. But I don't think it's as important as I had previously thought. Still, in the interest of overanalyzing for fun and because this is just how my brain works, on with the show! I have to remind myself that I'm doing this for fun and because I love this comic and art, not because I'm any sort of expert in design philosophy. Which to be clear, I am extremely not. I'm just a massive nerd. I'm overthinking this

Having gotten farther into the cast, I'm noticing three rough categories that you can put the Lodgers into:

Goggles/Gloves. At least partially geared up for their work.

Aprons! They maybe don't have any specialized equipment on them at the moment, but they do have some coverage.

None of the above! Helsby, Bryson, Flowers, and Luckett apply here. Helsby and Bryson make sense, their work doesn't happen within the Society itself, so they don't need to have any of their gear on them, if it's attached to their person at all. Bryson also has the consideration of being a parody of a pre-existing person, and you don't really want to change up the iconic look too much at risk of losing the joke. Luckett is kind of the same way I think, in that he's a homeopathic scientist. Literally the point is to use as little as possible. Though he should probably invest in some fireproof duds. Not entirely sure about an in-universe reason for Flowers, I think just putting in more detail would've made her feel overstuffed and busy. Sometimes you just gotta go with what looks best on the page!

I keep giving the female Lodgers really fun dynamic poses and then remembering that I have to cover it with their massive skirts lmao

I don't think Luckett is as irresponsible as him flicking fire into who-knows-where implies but I thought the pose was cute, alright? Also the thumbs up is definitely in response to someone asking what he was doing. He did not hear the question, his ears are still ringing. This will continue for at least the next 15 minutes.

Between the umbrella and the rosy cheeks and the candy I feel like Doddle is what would happen if Mary Poppins took over for Willy Wonka. Step 1 is implementing a billion child safety measures and making this madhouse OSHA compliant. But like, in a fun way

[mostlybuddingthoughts]

Me letting go of 2023 negativity looks like this: I, personally, did not enjoy how Madhouse's anime adaptation did the Ring Scene in Frieren.

Spoilers for episode 14 of the anime, and the equivalent manga chapters they were based from.

Fundamentally I think it comes down to this shot.

Himmel drops to one knee, and Frieren looks… Shocked? Surprised? Either way, it's a much more dramatic expression than I was expecting. Than the one I read in the manga.

Frieren constantly has this detached air in her flashbacks. We know this, and we know why: she hasn't yet realised that these people are important, and hasn't begun to make the conscious effort to learn about and open up to them.

So why does the anime choose to emphasise Frieren's expression? We should know Frieren's expression. In doing so, it seems to imply that it this expression is a deviation from the norm. That this affected her in a way beyond normal.

But it didn't. Like all other flashbacks, she never realised the beauty of it except in retrospect. Which is why I do think Frieren looking at the Ring after Himmel's death was an excellent addition by the anime.

(incidentally, I do like the subsequent shot of her face which DOES emphasise her confusion)

No, like all other flashbacks, this isn't necessarily about Frieren, but about Himmel. And above all other chapters, I think this chapter gave us a glimpse beneath Himmel's normal charisma. At the heartbreak he carries inside.

I think this panel single-handedly was the reason for why this chapter was the most popular chapter in recent polls.

This manga always has these smiles I love. People always say the characters only have one expression, but I don't think that's true.

The smiles all have such different feelings to them.

And this one is paiiinnnnn.

You can see how cruel he finds the situation. That Frieren would pick a gift so close to his desires whilst being entirely oblivious. His brow, raised just so, is an amused wince. His smile, so flat and drawn out, lingers in irony.

I've seen videos where people made the same comparison.

(if someone could help me find the video, I'll add a link. I've found YouTube's history to be very finicky, and I can't find it)

But despite the universe mocking him, Himmel puts it to the side. In the manga, I feel you can understand his intentions even more. To accept that Frieren doesn't understand, and probably won't ever reciprocate his intentions, but he can still indulge in the fantasy, selfishly, just for a bit.

I've always liked how Frieren looked here. Politely curious, I've described it to others before. She knows something is happening, but no idea what or why she should really care.

While this shot is fine, I do somehow feel the emphasis is once again going to Frieren. But again, I feel like this isn't about Frieren. Frieren is entirely passive in this scene (that's why it's paiiiinnn). It's about Himmel and what he chose to do with the ring, because it shows what he felt about it and her.

Anyway, the anime adaptation is beautiful and a 10/10, but I think this is the first time I've seen the anime stumbling in adapting its source material. A pity is was with the most popular manga chapter.

I could not be happier or more surprised that this anime is becoming so popular in the mainstream. No better successor to Fullmetal Alchemist at the top of MAL.

[your-nanas-house]

LOVE UR PAGE SMMM😭

if you feel like/have time would you be down to write something abt Jerome and a psychiatrist reader?

if you don't like the idea or anything just ignore this :))

AWWWW THANK YOU! for the compliments and the request. I really miss our Romie 🥺 he isn't as famous as he used to be lately. Our poor baby 😭 Sorry if it took me so long, dear.

Just a kiss for Christmas

◇ Pairing: Jerome Valeska X psychiatrist!Reader

◇ Warnings: fluff, Jerome Valeska..we know how our lovely crazy ginger is, kiss, unexpected touch, flirting.

◇ Summary: Jerome is locked in Arkham but he still wants a Christmas gift.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Credits to the owners of the pictures.

Finally after the last patrol of the guards, two stopped in front of Jerome's cell who was waiting impatiently in front of his door, his hazel eyes carefully observing whoever passed in the corridor.

He was adorable, despite being a known and feared serial killer, with a childish but sadistic personality.

He really looked eager and excited that day, maybe for the upcoming festivity or the session he was about to have with his psychiatrist— a she psychiatrist, like Jerome kept pointing out at every patience there.

Miss Y/l/n, a young psychiatrist that was pretty good at her job, treating everyone with respect and professionalism even in a madhouse like that. 

In all his staying, the ginger never felt the want or need to see a doc there but everything was different with his Y/n. He was kind of smitten, to not say obsessed.

That's why he was so excited to go on Christmas Eve for a session with her, thus spending an hour alone in the room talking about himself while sneakily trying to hit on her, even though it never worked. But a man had his needs, hadn't he?

His pace was fast as he walked, carrying with him his diary, holding it tightly in his strong big hands till they  finally arrived at their destination.

The door slowly opened, allowing him to step in and sit innocently at the table, handcuffs still around his wrists and ankles— he looked like an innocent child in that moment, just waiting with a puppy face that broke as soon as Y/n moved closer to the table 

“Why are you acting like that, Jerome?” she asked, not managing to hold back her own smile while she sat down in front of him

“Nothing, doll…I mean Doc” he replied smoothly, a smirk slowly creeping on his scared face.

His gloved hands kept resting on the table, his eyes never leaving hers as he moved his fingers tapping the surface there.

.

After the session, which went pretty good, almost too good…Y/n took a moment to look at him for a couple of seconds, just staying in silence— just waiting for something to happen, to understand the reason for Jerome's weird behavior.

“So?” The beautiful psychiatrist asked, leaning closer to him, allowing her arms to rest on the table that way— her eyes still scanning his freckled face

“So what, Doc?” Jerome replied smugly, moving carefully his hands to search something in his pockets while she was still studying him

“What's on your mind, huh? Searching for another reward since you were such a good boy?” She asked in a soft but teasing voice.

Well, it was actually like that.

Jerome pulled quickly out what looked like a broken mistletoe and moved it between them as best he could, letting her hold it above their heads for him

“Been a good boy all week, doll. Lil'ol’ me isn't on ya naughty list this year” he murmured, smiling slowly with his scared lips, his smile big and almost scary for someone who wasn't used to it.

He received no response for a couple of minutes, his psychiatrist just kept watching him with a serious expression before finally cracking and nod

“You've been pretty good, yes…guess you really earned this Christmas gift, huh?” She murmured, mostly to herself before she leaned closer.

Jerome did the same as soon as she saw her lean in, he was still tied but he managed to connect their lips in a french kiss, slipping his tongue as best he could in her mouth to taste her— his handcuffed hands cupping her clothed breasts when she was focused on returning the forceful kiss.

“Jerome! Should have expected it…still a naughty man with a puppy tricky face” she joked softly, not really made at his childish antics.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny, @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher, @sleepycreativewriter

[desmond69miles]

hey can I get headcanons for the ink demon with a child!reader who was one of the many attempts of Joey trying to make Audrey?

hello hello anon! thank you for your request :] my posts have been far inbetween due to health and family reasons, I promise I'm still alive!

[-: Childish and innocent, you'd make the Ink Demon's life a living hell. He's supposed to be the infamous killer, the murderous demon that lurked around the studios. Yet, you giggled and smiled at Bendy!

[-: I HC that The Ink Demon doesn't injure/kill kids unless provoked, due to the fact that he still is somewhat an image of Bendy from the cartoons. However, the Ink Demon did not like you, at all. Hatred ran inside of his inky bones; There wasn't an excuse for him to like you.

[-: He'd try to scare you off by threatening death or permanent mutilation, but you giggled and smiled wider. It seemed that whatever the Ink Demon did, you wouldn't shake the fatherly image you saw of Bendy. He thought it was stupid and somewhat disgusting that Joey tried to make a child but recycled them here, holding a small bit of guilt for you.

[-: It would take months of you following him around the studio for him to warm up to you. After all, your still Joeys creation, and we know that Bendy isn't too fond of his creators. But once he warmed up to you, he'd let you walk around the studio without him hissing at you to back off. (You'd cry when he'd walk into the wall to teleport to another location, making the Demon cock his head and ask you if you couldn't walk through walls.)

[-: Just because he's warmed up to you doesn't mean he likes you yet. Your still a child, weak and defenseless. Bendy couldn't babysit you all the time, he had a studio to run! He did find you annoying, stupid, and too giddy for his taste, but at least you have a protector in the monsterous studio.

[-: If your like Audrey and have special powers, Bendy would help you control and use them. (Totally not so he can consume you later.) He's a good mentor, although he gets pissed easily and lashes out a lot.

[-: Bendy's the only form of a parent that you'd ever had, the only form of comfort. And by no means is he a good one, but through trial and error he can become a good friend. Even demons get lonely :)

[-: After a good year of getting used to you, he'd let you touch his horns and climb around on him. His ink is cold and slightly sticky, not enough to leave a residue but still gummed. If he really likes you, he'd let you scribble on walls using his claws.

[-: Bendy would not let you near Sammy. That poor man is crazed and insane, no doubt that he'd try to sacrifice you to Bendy or try to harm you. Maybe when your a bit older and know how to fend for yourself would he let you see him.

[-: Relating to the one above, he would not let you walk around the studio by yourself. There are so many dark and morbid things. Killers, thiefs, raiders, slavers, it was a madhouse. You're still a child and need some protection.

[-: I HC that Bendy is blind and goes off of scent/hearing, so he'd have an ear out for you all the time. Also, do not let him pick out your outfits. 99% of the time their covered in ink and off a dead body, too big for you to wear.

[-: To close these headcanons, I think Bendy would be an OK parent with a lot of learning. You're like a bean in comparison to him, he's fearful that he'll step on you. Just be kind and he'll be semi-nice in return.

thank you for reading! ask box open <3

[chaoswarfare]

dp x dc prompt #18

Newly formed ghost Jason Todd as Alice in Wonderland(the ghost zone). Danny is wandering the ghost zone in his human form and running late for something, and Jason chases the only normal looking person through the ghost zone in an effort to escape and go home. Danny(Phantom) is the cheshire smiled ghost watching over and observing this new baby ghost that seems intent on following him outside the zone.

Jason has no idea where he is. The overgrown oddly colored plants and inhuman locals all point to this definitely not being home. He’s not even sure he’s on the same plane of reality! A cheery but frantic whistle greets his ears as he rests after his latest escape from an angry local, and Jason looks around just in time to see a human teenager a few years older than him sprint along the forest trail, just far enough from his hiding spot for it to stay hidden. that must be his ticket out of this madhouse. If he can follow the guy out of here and to a proper civilization, he can figure out how to get home from there!

He doesn’t notice the ghost lounging in the trees above his head as he sets off, too intent on his goal to notice the eerie smile stretching impossibly wide across it’s face.

[animenostalgia]

Head's up! - For a limited time, NHK World is streaming a new free 28 minute documentary (in English!) on anime producer Masao Maruyama as part of their ANIME MANGA EXPLOSION series. Maruyama's been a part of the industry for years, joining Studio Madhouse in 1972 and fostering many big-name talents there, such as the late Satoshi Kon. Give it a watch at the link above!

[tumblingghosts]

tbosas tributes in a time loop!!

lucy gray lands back in time (on the train ride to the capitol) after being declared victor, she doesn't win the second time, but finds that treech, who had won that time, joins her back in time, and so on...

lucy gray & treech end up allying bc they're the only two who have been through this before, and if there's no set end, then they might as well figure out the limits to this, right?

treech makes sure that lamina wins the next time, and boom! new time traveller joining their crew. so the new plan is to get everyone in the loop. it's a challenge, considering how insane it sounds, but it's not like any of them are going to oppose being victor given the chance

but, what they don't realize until later, is what happens when there is no victor - lucy gray and reaper are the last two in one such loop. the snakes are released, both of them die, with reaper lasting only minutes after lucy gray, the tenth hunger games bears no victors.

upon arriving at the station, coriolanus isn't the only one waiting to greet his tribute. clemensia dovecote is also there, and there's a haunted look in her eyes, almost like she knows how this will end.

---

in which i'm combining a bunch of my most recent obsessions:

aka. reaper & clemensia (bc @meekmedea's fics have opened my mind and gotten me hooked on those two [ao3]), treemina (bc @ylvisruinedmylife has opened my mind to these two background characters and now they are my darlings [ao3]), and tbosas fix its (bc @moreespressoformydepresso writes fantastic tbosas fix its that i adore so much <33 [ao3])

(if you haven't read the above author's fics, GO READ THEM!!! they're amazing!!)

---

here's ch1 of the tributes time loop fic:

welcome to the madhouse

Lucy Gray is the Victor of the Tenth Hunger Games. As she is ushered out of the Arena, she wakes up back on the train to the Capitol. Treech is the Victor of the Tenth Hunger Games. As he is ushered out of the Arena, he wakes up back on the train to the Capitol. Lamina is the Victor of—

In which there is a time loop joined by the Victors of the Games. The Tributes quickly plan to get as many of them part of the loop to plan an escape.

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Champagne problems | Dawson Mercer x Fem Reader

Summary: Dawson and Harper(you) get in a heated argument, but you have a past in being left alone. Dawson makes it up to by dancing in the kitchen at night, and it ends up leading to something else.

Warnings: makeup s*x, unprotected, crying, language, not proof read

PLS NOTE: I don’t think Dawson Mercer would ever LIKE EVER make someone feel this way (and idk why he would get angry abt this but he did so yuhh)

I got kinda lazy towards the end- sorry in advance🫶

You book the night train for a reason

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME HARPER!” Dawson yells out from our room. I hear his Newfie accent pop out. I think it’s so cute. Then. I hear pound stomps from upstairs in our home. He comes running down the stairs. He turns to face me as he scurries over at me.

Dawson throws my phone that was once in my hand and now is on the other side of the white couch, which I was comfortable sitting on. He never screams at me. I’m scared.

I’m scared.

I run for our dog, Mila. I grab our black lab and pick her up. Mila holds onto me as I run up the stairs with her. I don’t care about my phone, I need to lock myself away. I don’t even know what I did. But I’m is I’m terrified.

I dropped your hand while dancing

I run into the bathroom without a word said. I hear soft foot steps walking towards the bathroom. It’s not just a bathroom, it’s the place where we would take baths together, or when I get to drunk and he would hold my hair back when I throw up, or when he would get sick and I would shower with him.

This isn’t a home, not right now atelast. It’s a madhouse.

I’m not ready. It’s been a strong 2 years together, we have never been through a big fight where I felt I was threatened. I’m so scared I hold on to Mila, I feel like I’m going to throw up.

“please, Harper, open up. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that. But I’m upset, you pulled out like $200 out if the shared account.” Dawson has a good point to be mad at me. But he has to understand that it’s for bills. I just bought the house, it’s under my name.

“I’m sorry.” I say, and there I go. A tear is shed. Not only one, but it turns into many. I’m now bawling my eyes out. He bangs on the door. I know he’ll get mad if I don’t open the door, but I’m not ready to see him, because I truly feel guilty, but I cannot pay for the bills and in general everything on my own.

“I’m not mad anymore, I’m going to be upset if you don’t open the door baby. Are you hungry?” Dawson says in absolute despair.

My stomach dropped about 12 minutes ago, and I still can’t seem to grab it and put it back in place, my heart is doing somersaults- in a terrible way, not in a lovestruck way, more of a numbing pain. My head is pounding. I hear birds chriping through the bathroom window. I unlock the door taht im sitting against. I let Mila walk out, and I grab air. Then I walk into our bedroom. I open windows.

Love slipped beyond your reaches

And I couldn’t give a reason

Champagne problems.

I change into Dawson’s boxers, they have SpongeBob patterns on them, I picked it out. I throw on my sleep shirt. I tie my hair into a messy high bun, I let my neck hit the cold outside breeze. It’s offseason, Dawson and I are getting ready to travel back to his family’s home in a week. Right now, I’m not sure if I wnat to go.

I hear sizzling from the kitchen downstairs. And the smell of cheese, and toast. Is it Grilled cheese?

“BUBBA?!” Dawson yells out for me.

He walks up the steps with a green plate, and he steps into our room, he sees me against our bedroom wall that faces the entrance of the room. The window is above me, he come towards me. Grabs the grilled cheese and splits it.

“Did you know you look gorgeous.” Dawson says, not in a question format, but more of a statement. He opens my mouth and wipes the tear that had fell from my eye. He sticks the grilled cheese into my mouth and he looks at me, and smiles. I see his toothless corny smile. I love him.

“Come here. Baby I didn’t mean to get at you like that.” He says as he grips onto his blue t-shirt and wipes my mascara away.

“it’s my fault.” I say. I don’t want him to leave me.

We finish eating as he explains how it’s okay to take out money,but he should be able to pay, not that I should sneak the payment. He grabs my hand and he takes the plate that he placed the delicious grilled cheese on and placed it into the clean sink. He turns me around and he’s sits me on the cold counter.

“You look sexy.” He says and again, I hear his newfie accent pop out. I’m head over heels for him.

“In SpongeBob boxers?” I say sarcastically and I laugh away my sadness.

“Yes. Anything that you’re in, makes you extra sexy. And..” he says as he trails off as he nibbles at my neck. He kissed my index finger and trailed up to my left ear. I can feel his stubble.

He pushed up against me, and he kissed me. He then picked me up from the counter and twirled me down to the floor. And he continued to French kiss me. He tugs at my waist as he he tucks his head onto my neck. He’s 6”0 body leans into my 5”2 figure.

“I love you.” He whispers into my ear as he sucks into me, I’m sure there is a big bruise awaiting to be seen by his fellow teammates at holding tomorrow. Dawson is missing a tooth, but he’s still really good at giving hickeys. He starts to sway. Ironically, he starts to humthe words of champagne problems. He’s such a girl dad- not yet.

We dance in the kitchen for like an hour as we just talk. The beautiful daylight blue sky turned into a black sky lit by stars. He grabs me and sits me down on the couch that we met at earlier today.

Mila has her own bed in our bedroom, but for today she sat in her own room that she has in the main level right next to the kitchen. Dawson locks Mila in her bedroom and he sets her asleep with her night time water. He grabs me and carry’s me up the stairs. It’s like we are re-living our day.

He pushed me down the bed. He has one hand on my mid torso. And he slides his hand up, up toward my cleavage. He takes a hold of his SpongeBob boxers and slides them off. He smoothly takes my shirt off. He apply little pressure on my shoulders, an my bra is off my chest. He looks at my breast like it’s the first pair he’s ever seen. His face lits up in an eager smile. And once again I see his toothless expression. He takes my nipple into his fingers and twist them.

My breast is really tender from crying earlier today so I let out a little wince. Dawson looks down at me ready to study every little mark I have on me. He takes his shirt off. In a swft motion his shorts are also off. I see his face black boxers, but it’s accompanied by a large tent in the middle of his legs. He’s getting off by me in pain. Wierd kink.

“Daws.” I say, I’m letting him know I’m ready to take him. Dawson holds my hands up above my head and he opens his boxers, I can’t stop thinking off how that’s where he opens his pants to pee, but I take him in my mouth and he’s steady leaking everywhere.

I lick the tip of him and he screams in excitement.

He’s so easy.

He lets out a sigh as he finished inside my mouth, not letting me do any work.

“Okay pillow princess, show me how it’s done.” Dawson says as he flips me on top of him and we roll over to the other side of the bed. He lays down and he pulls off his boxers. He’s bare, I’m bare. I touch myself as I stand on top of him. I look down at him as I decide to squat down. I look at his face, he’s ready to be please, but I just took him inside of my mouth. I swalllow, but I forget… can he?

So I take his jaw in my hand and I tell him to open his mouth, he does so. He is expecting a kiss. But for me, I wnat to make him cum first. So I straddle his face, and I take his hard friend, into my mouth, once again.

Im laying on top off him, he has my clit on his mouth, and I have his dick into my throat. He’s tasty, very salty. He locks me out, and I feel like I need to piss everywhere. So I focus on my job. I need to make him cum. He goes faster on his tounge, he lifts his hips up to my face, he’s about to fall out of his momentum. He thrusts into my throat. And again, and again, he thrusts. He lets out a groan, and he starts to stick his large fingers into my hole. He sucks and fingers at my bottom half.

He’s going to play dirty, so am I. So I grab his large balls and start to rub. He starts to slap my ass, and he runs up and down my waist line. I grab his leg, and he thrusts into my mouth again, he lets out an exasperated groan, he drops his bridge down, and he slides me over.

He arrived, and I haven’t. Maybe I am better.

“No, I know what you’re thinking, you aren’t better than I am.” Dawson says as he walks over to grab a condom.

“No, I like it raw.” I say as I get up from feeling like peeing.

“Easier on me then.” Dawson says as he lifts me up and I wrap around his figure. My boobs are pressed up against his abs, my nipples are sticking straight into him. He lays me down gently as he sticks a finger inside of me. He licks his finger clean.

“You’re still pretty wet for me.” He says, “but I haven’t cummed yet.” I said, impatiently.

I push his anatomy onto me. His cock is pushed up against his abdomen. He kisses me and he did infancy swallow.

He leans back up from our special kiss, and he licks his hand, and pump onto his cock once. He grasps onto my thigh, he spreads my legs apart.

“DAWSON!” I scream out in enjoyment. I’m exhilarated. His shaft ponds into my hips. My pelvis is now perked up into his hands. I need more, but I cannot fit much more. He has so many inches inside of me,I feel like I might puncture ny uterus.

“He shushed me and started to bounce. He thrusted about 4 times before I begged him to stop. And I cimmed right there. He grabbed a tissue that sat on our nightstands, specifically for this reason.

“Okay baby. You wanna shower, or do you want to wait until tomorrow morning?” Dawson says and he always knows the answer. He made sure I wa clean and the bed sheets weren’t wet and sticky for our semen.

He wraps his legs around me, I’m little spoon, and he’s big spoon. We are skin to skin. And I feel safe in his arms as he kissed me goodnight. And I feel ready to see his family on our trip next week. And I’m glad that his friends will see my “burn mark” I got. Which we all know that Dawson took his kisses to strong and he bit and sucked on my neck to leave territory marks.

[contentment-of-cats]

Fun and Games

This has been kicking around in drafts for a few months. I was cleaning it out and...

With thanks to @shards-of-silver for getting me off my ass.

Upon promotion to senior lieutenants, there are perks.

Ensigns sleep a dozen to a barracks, junior lieutenants share a four-rack of bunks around a common area and share sanitary facilities. Senior officers of lieutenant commander or higher have their own private quarters increasing in size and amenities, and at flag rank a suite of rooms. But nothing beats the heady rush of getting your own room with a door that closes. Despite what the contractors say, those bunk partitions don't do squat to stop you from hearing every snore, fart, or wet dream from your fellow juniors. There's a corresponding increase in cubic storage along with the bigger room and one may trust the newly-minted senior loots to go a little crazy.

Thrawn as a new commodore aboard rearranged officers' quarters by duty station, so now all bridge officers are housed a literal thirty second run to the bridge or assigned six-man lifepod. Faro has always run a looser ship in terms of culture, and there are times when bridge officers' country is decorated for various holidays and observances. For example, observances of Longnight see small dishes of food and lanterns set out to guide and appease the spirits of those lost in the vastness of space. But today there is something new outside of Agral and Pyro's twofer.

A sign-up.

It's a datapad on a sticky at reading level with a stylus on a cord.

"Sign up for tabletop games night - Quests & Quarries, Pirates & Privateers, Hyperspace Hellscape, Ancient Lands Archaic Warfare, and other RP games coming to a horizontal surface near you!"

The list is growing fast.

A note above the hatch control says, "Game in progress. ENTER QUIETLY."

"Already the social hub," Faro mutters and then jumps out of her skin when Thrawn agrees with her. Even in boots, he moves almost silently. "Let a lass know, sir! You almost scared it out of me!"

Thrawn's shadow - Vanto - is not here or otherwise she'd have stood a better chance of hearing the approach. He is looking at the sign-up sheet and then at the door sign, then turns to her.

"These are not like Scrabble?"

Pyro's love of table games is legend. She even collects them.

"No, Commodore. These are, well, a kind of strategy game." Thrawn visibly brightens. His skin changes color, his pupils disappear as the nictitating membrane crosses them in a three-part blink. "Players create characters and ascend levels in different scenarios called dungeons. It's kind of like academy war-gaming, but more flexible and personalized."

"They will not mind if we enter and observe?"

"They'll snap to attention for a flag officer on deck or I'll have them cleaning the stormtroopers' urinals with ear swabs, but I do not think they'll object."

Faro taps the hatch open and as they step in Vanto barks, "Commodore on deck!"

The response is satisfyingly swift.

"Officers, as you were," Thrawn nods. "I do not wish to disturb the game in progress, only to observe."

Of course, the furniture is bolted to the deck, but there are an additional folding couch and two additional folding chairs added to the room and-

"Pyrondi, where did you get the holotop?" Karyn hasn't seen one in probably twenty years. This one replaces the low table normally issued to this accommodation, bolted down as per regs. "It's got to be a month's pay."

"I bought it at an antiquities shop on Coruscant. Lomar did the new innards, and then all of us wrote code." Us being - apparently - herself, Lomar, Hammerly, Barlin, Agral, Yve, and Carvia.

"Major Carvia, what is your part in this madhouse?" The man budges loots up the couch to make room for their captain and commodore in the armchairs. "Surely you're not a player?"

"I helped Pyro carry this up here and did the coding for groundpounder dungeons. No offense, but this bunch is all Navy." The major wags his finger at Pyro. "I will thank you, youngster, not to refer to items as 'antiquities' that I am old enough to have owned brand new."

"Everyone do a stretch, get some snacks, and we'll come back into it in fifteen?" Pyro asks and everyone agrees, getting up a little stiffly after hours gaming. "Sync and go."

Thrawn looks over the table, at first studying the current dungeon, but then with more interest at the leather-bound manuals of flimsi, and beautifully made sets of dice and other paraphernalia.

"Please, Lieutenant, explain." Thrawn settles in one of the armchairs, accepting one of Pyro's fruit teas and a packet of sweets.

"Well, first these are the handbooks for players and dungeon masters. These others are for aspects - beings, arms, character classes." Pyrondi takes a small bag and empties it into her hand. "These are my dice."

"Is a gambling chip counted as dice?" Thrawn looks intently. "These are thystine and aurum leaf, correct?"

"If a binary decision is needed, yes, it counts. They are thystine, but as you can see, every player has their set and aside from the chip they can have sets of seven to fifteen, it depends what games they play."

Vanto's set is doonium, which makes Thrawn smile fleetingly. Carvia's is some kind of bone or ivory. Agral's is synthetic fireopal. All sets are as individual as the player.

Oh, no. ART.

"And what about the crystal ball?" Karyn asks. It's a perfect sphere set on an elaborate base.

"Oh, that's a toy I picked up from a junk dealer. He said it didn't work, but when you ask it a yes-or-no question it gives you a nonsensical answer. Watch. Is the mess going to serve hash for firstmeal again?"

The sphere roils with smoke and then shows a wavering answer in its center.

Better not tell you now.

"See? It gives positive, negative, or non-committal answers. To be fair, I don't want to know if we're having hash again."

The players filter back in and take their places as Thrawn is given a rough crash course in play. Pyrondi looks around, sets up a triptych screen to hide her materials and plans, and then asks if everyone is ready. Snacks and drinks to hand, all affirm and the game resumes. Karyn watches her superior as he watches the game with eyes bright. Pyro is a force of chaos and order, handling players firmly but also throwing wild situations at them. The dice can't be rigged or fooled on a dice pad, holding them firm.

Thrawn reminds his officers that night phase is coming, and they have watch coming up. The party breaks up with others putting the room back to order and bidding good rest.

"If you do not mind, Lieutenant, Captain Faro and I will join for the next game."

"Please do, sir. The more the merrier."

Karyn almost groans but holds it in.

"As I remember, you said the same thing before you wiped the walls with me at Scrabble."

Pyro only grins. "Good rest, sirs."

[imposterogers]

the best thing about the suicide squad verse / bop / peacemaker is that they’re campy. they embrace that they’re adapting a comic book. the characters are loud and eccentric. everyone’s wearing bright and colorful and weird clothes/costumes. there’s giant monsters and crazy superpowers and themed villains. gotham is an absolute madhouse where the criminals are minor celebrities that the citizens gossip about when they’re not being victimized by them. harley quinn names her man eating hyena after bruce wayne. things don’t always make sense. it’s above all fun

[ytremia]

Process - Sunakawa Cake 🎂

A little breakdown of how I made my 3D recreation of the "thank you sunakawa" cake from Ore Monogatari ~

1. Collecting reference

Aside from referencing stills from the anime, I came across the official cake sketch from Madhouse's website! It was really helpful in identifying all the toppings on the cake and other details.

Next was collecting real-life references of all the ingredients I needed to make and taking notes of the shapes, textures and variety.

2. Modelling & Texturing

I go back and forth between modelling and texturing, and jump all over the place so I'll break things down based on the toppings/elements:

A. Macaron

I referenced Canosie Lab's macaron tutorial here, tweaking the process a little bit; using one mesh instead of two and using particles to distribute the boolean meshes. I ended up with LOTS of vertices, so I made a lower poly version of the macaron and used those to avoid bogging down the computer. As for the texture, I used Blender's procedural nodes, utilizing mostly the noise texture node.

Above: The first row are the lower poly versions of the macaron and the second row are the original meshes with around 200,000 vertices each o_o

B. Cookies

There's not much to it here; I just modeled the cookies and used procedural textures I've made for a previous project (I'll post that project soon!!!)

The icing is made using bezier curves with some bevel depth. I used the draw tool to draw on the cookies. I did the same for the writings on the cake.

C. Strawberries

I've previously made strawberries for another project so I just used those but baked them to a lower poly mesh first. I used Canosie Labs' strawberry tutorial as reference :) I initially used a scaled down version of the regular-sized strawbs, but decided to make a proper mini strawberry 🍓

Left: with scaled down regular strawberries, Right: proper mini strawberries.

I made them super shiny with lots of subsurface scattering to make them look juicy and gummy-like -- not the most realistic but I think they look cuter like this :>

D. Orange slices

The orange slices were the most challenging to make! Did a lot of trial and error to get that pulpy texture oranges have but I managed using a combination of voronoi nodes :") If you look at the pictures below, you can see how the orange looked in the beginning vs. at the end after I refined it some more.

They look fine from a distance but a little janky up close; maybe I'll do a breakdown one day once I figure out a proper node setup.

Above: before & after

Left to right: rendered, colour only, B/W

E. Orange peel

A simple plane with a solidify and curve modifier. What's most important here is the texture! I used two different shaders (one for the pith another for the peel) combined using a mask.

F. Jelly beans & choco marbles

A tweaked subdivided square for the jelly beans and subdivided icosphere for the choco marbles. The two use pretty much the same shaders but the jelly beans have more subsurface scattering.

H. Cake

After placing all the toppings, I sculpted the cake (using the multires modifier) a little bit to model the cream that's displaced.

[starfall-spirit]

Read on Ao3

Summary: Feyre takes some time to talk to one of her more reserved students, unveiling an adorable. yet heartbreaking Christmas wish.

OR

Rhys' little sister gets him a girlfriend.

“Three, two—” The bell above the studio door chimed and Ressina swept out from behind the front counter to greet the first arrivals for the evening class. A rambunctious pair of boys, ages eight and five. “Hello, my lovelies, I’ve missed you!”

Ressina was wonderful with the kids and had a particular fondness for greeting the younger classes and getting them settled. Turning away, Feyre finished setting out the paint and water before sitting down to start a few designs in pencil for the children to paint over. Elves, gingerbread men, angels, and snowmen. She’d need to draw a few more once the little ones had picked out what they wanted to draw, but it was good to get a little extra done before the place turned into a madhouse. 

It didn’t take long for all ten students to arrive, crowding into the studio and stripping out of their winter coats before sitting down at the table. The parents—and brother, in little Avyanna’s case—were left to line the walls, conversing among themselves. “What’s that, Ms. Feyre?”

She smiled. Avy was the meekest voice of the group, a bit wary of the children around her, though she’d seen her laughing with a few of the other girls on occasion and she seemed to be making better social progress with each class. “We’ll be painting ornaments today. You get to pick your favorite design and paint it whatever colors you want. Then Miss Ressina and I will dry it here and give you some pretty ribbon when you come back next week so you can hang it on your tree for your family to enjoy.”

Her eyes widened, lighting up with excitement. “I’d like an angel. Please.”

Feyre gave her another warm smile. “I’ll set this in your spot. Go grab an apron so you don’t stain that pretty shirt.”

“I appreciate the foresight you ladies have for that.” 

Feyre jumped, turning to face the new speaker. At least after two months of classes she could keep from blushing like a fool around him. “Sorry. I didn't notice you Mr. Axton—”

“I think we’ve attended enough lessons to justify you calling me Rhys. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to head outside for a moment to make a call, if that’s alright?” 

“Of course. We’re all set here if you need to step out. She’ll be fine.”

“Excellent. Pardon me.” Ruffling his sister’s hair, he stepped back out into the cold, pressing the phone to his ear, a scowl on his face the next time he spoke.

“Do you like my brother?” Avy asked the next time she circled back to their group. A bit startled by the subject, she hesitated to answer. “He likes you, you know.” The statement was out of the blue, an absent thought as she started to paint the angel wings as precisely as any six year old could. “He doesn’t talk about it, but he watches you while we’re here. I think it would make him happy if you went on a date. Happier than he is now, at least.” She had a solemn look about her, her shoulders curving in slightly. “That’s all I want this Christmas. For him to do something that makes him happy.”

While the other children around them were distracted with each other and their art, the parents in hearing range had been following the one sided conversation and were either looking on with amusement at Feyre’s awkwardness or pity for the girl’s homelife. She couldn’t imagine it was easy, going into the holidays just months after losing their parents to a fatal highway crash. 

And how does one tell an elementary-schooler you can’t make people happy by dropping them into a spontaneous date with a stranger. “Sweetheart, I think you and your brother are going to have an amazing Christmas together, especially if you’re with those uncles you keep telling me about.”

“Just wait til he gets back. You’ll see.”

~~~~~

Even smudged with paint and charcoal, the shop owner was gorgeous. Gorgeous and amazing with his sister, which did nothing to help how distracted he was today, trying and failing to tune into the nonsense his uncle was spewing in his ear. “Your parents are dead, Rhysand. If you don’t get a move on—”

“Tell me again, Kier, how I should run this business more like my father. I’m dying for a reason to kick you off the board for good.” Silence. “You’d do well to remember who this company was bequeathed to.”

“Of course, Rhysand,” he ground out. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“Then don’t. Get me the contract I requested. I’ll review it in the morning.” 

He shoved his phone back in his pocket, rolling his neck as he calmed himself. If there was one thing he prided himself on it was not letting this shitstorm bleed into his time with his little sister. She was still too young to understand the truth behind a lot that had happened in their life. A mercy and curse, as he was left to question how long he could live with himself, telling her their parents’ car crash was a highway accident.

It was the right call for now, but as her guardian, he still felt like shit. He looked back through the window, spotting Avy in the middle of the table, quiet and reserved among her peers. It was a work in progress, breaking the six-year-old of their father’s rigid teachings, but he had seen glimpses of the rowdy kid she could be once she realized it wouldn’t get her in trouble. 

He pushed back into the art studio, removing his jacket and taking the empty seat beside Avyanna. “How’s it going, Avy?”

“Good. Ms. Feyre’s been helping me. She did the pencil part, see,” she showed him, tracing her finger over the cartoonish pencil marks that outlined the angel design Avy had chosen. She frowned, setting her paintbrush on her paper towel. “Was that Uncle Keir again? You didn’t look happy outside.”

“Ah, I fixed what needed to be fixed. No trouble in sight. What are you painting?”

She was quiet for a moment, likely trying to determine if he was hiding something that should be her business. “An ornament. Miss Ressina has some pretty ribbon we can hang them with so I can take it home and put it on the tree.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan, Avy.”

“How are we doing over here?” Feyre asked the cluster of children, immediately receiving overlapping progress reports on various snowmen, angels, elves, and gingerbread men. 

His sister was still as a statue, looking almost guilty as her instructor checked the paint and water cups around the table. Both of them were doing an excellent job of refusing to make eye contact with him, and Rhys found himself missing the fleeting-yet-bright smile the art teacher normally gifted him once or twice a lesson. 

Avy was far too well-behaved to have made any trouble for the two women leading the weekly lessons and Feyre seemed naturally at ease with parents and students alike. Whatever had shifted would need to be addressed, but it could wait until they weren’t dealing with eavesdroppers. 

“You don’t have to hover, you know,” his sister said, a bit of snark rising in companionship to that guilt. “I can paint on my own.”

Rhys frowned, but respected her request, walking back around the table to stand on the opposite wall. “What am I missing here?” he muttered. 

A father to his right chuckled. “Other than your sister telling Feyre you have a crush on her loud enough for the room to hear, nothing much.”

“Oh, is that all?” His eyes slid back to Feyre. Though she had likely brushed off the prospect of a date with him, something had been said that was weighing her down and it didn’t seem to lift for the rest of the lesson. He honestly didn’t care what the other guardians thought about him staying after they had all shuffled out. “Avy, put on your coat and wait by the door for me, okay?”

“Are you  asking Ms. Feyre on a date?”

“Avyanna, door.” She scampered away and he let out a long sigh, earning a chuckle from Ressina. “Sorry.”

She shook her head. “Feyre, come out here for a moment.”

“Yeah, what’s… up. Hi, Mr.—” He clicked his tongue softly. Feyre sighed in surrender. “Rhys, what can I do for you?”

Ressina was courteous enough to take up whatever was left in the back, leaving Feyre and Rhys with only a six year old for company. “This evening, it came to my attention that my sister made some insinuations that caused you discomfort.”

Her eyes widened in panic. “No!” Blushing, she cleared her throat, stating more calmly, “No, it wasn’t uncomfortable. I just didn’t want to get her hopes up. I didn’t think there was much substance behind…”

“A six-year-old’s second-hand love proclamations?”

She bit her lip. “Something like that. She just… She said it was her Christmas wish for you to be happy. I didn’t want her thinking a good holiday season hinged on romance.”

He swallowed. Did he really come off as someone so miserable Avy said this was her Christmas wish? The business demands were putting him through the wringer, but he thought he was better at wearing a mask. “I appreciate that. All the same though, if you weren’t currently seeing someone… more accurately, if you were interested in going out… Are you free on Saturday?”

Feyre chewed her lip. “Are you asking me because you want to ask me, or just to appease a six-year-old, because I won’t be part of something that—”

He waived his hand in a motion ment to cut off her concern. “If I didn’t have feelings for you I would have nipped this in the bud and left the studio as soon as her ornament was set to dry. I like you, Feyre. So what do you say?”

“Saturday. Can you pick me up from here?”

~~~~~

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