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housite · 1 year ago

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Transform Your Home for the Holidays with Housite's Unbeatable Christmas Deals

The holiday season is upon us, and what better way to usher in the festive spirit than by giving your home a makeover with exquisite decor and accessories? In this guest post, we'll explore the wonders of Housite, an online home decor and accessories shop dedicated to providing high-quality, affordable products. Founded in 2022, Housite has quickly become a go-to destination for individuals looking to elevate their living spaces without breaking the bank.

About Housite

The Housite Journey

Discover the story behind Housite and its inception in 2022. Learn how our personal experience of struggling to find affordable yet high-quality home products inspired the creation of this online retail haven.

Housite's Mission

Delve into the mission that drives Housite – making top-notch decor and home accessories accessible to everyone. Explore how the company aims to cater to diverse needs, ensuring that customers can turn their houses into dream homes.

The Housite Advantage

Uncover the unique selling points of Housite, such as its wide range of products for every room, commitment to quality, and the added benefit of free worldwide shipping. Explore how Housite stands out in the competitive world of online home decor.

Christmas Sale Extravaganza

'Tis the Season to Decorate

As the Christmas season approaches, Housite is decking the halls with exclusive deals and discounts. Dive into the festive atmosphere and discover how Housite can turn your home into a winter wonderland.

Limited-Time Offers

Highlight the urgency of the Christmas sale by emphasizing that it's ending soon. Encourage readers to seize the opportunity to grab unbeatable deals and discounts on a variety of home decor and accessories.

Best-Selling Christmas Decor

Explore Housite's best-selling Christmas decor items, from festive bedroom accessories to living room embellishments that will bring joy to your holiday celebrations.

Unveiling Housite's Home Decor Collection

Home Decor Delights

Embark on a virtual tour of Housite's extensive home decor collection. From stunning bedroom decor to stylish living room accessories, discover how Housite has curated a selection that caters to diverse tastes and preferences.

Kitchen Elegance

Explore the best kitchen decor and accessories to elevate your culinary space. Uncover the secret to creating a kitchen that combines functionality with aesthetic appeal.

Bathroom Bliss

Transform your bathroom into a spa-like retreat with Housite's best bathroom decor and accessories. Dive into a world of relaxation and rejuvenation.

Garden Glory

Extend your style beyond the walls with Housite's garden decor and accessories. From outdoor lights to decorative elements, discover how to create an enchanting outdoor oasis.

Kids' Kingdom

Delight in the whimsical world of Housite's kids' room decor and accessories. From playful designs to functional items, Housite has everything to make your child's space magical.

Illuminating Your Space

Decorative Lights Extravaganza

Brighten up your home with Housite's exquisite range of decorative lights. Explore indoor and outdoor options that add a touch of magic to every corner.

Outdoor Lights Online

Discover the convenience of shopping for outdoor lights online at Housite. Explore the latest trends and innovations to illuminate your outdoor spaces with style.

Indoor Lights for Every Room

Explore the diverse indoor lighting options at Housite, designed to enhance the ambiance of every room in your home. From functional lighting to statement pieces, find the perfect illumination for your space.

Bedroom Elegance

Best Bedroom Decor Picks

Step into a world of tranquility with Housite's best bedroom decor. Explore a curated collection of bedding, pillows, and accents that promise to transform your bedroom into a serene retreat.

Accessories for Sweet Dreams

Uncover the secrets of creating the perfect sleep sanctuary with Housite's bedroom accessories. From ambient lighting to unique bedside tables, find the elements that contribute to a restful night's sleep.

Personalizing Your Space

Discover how Housite allows you to personalize your bedroom with customizable decor. From monogrammed bedding to unique wall art, make your bedroom truly yours with these thoughtful additions.

Living Room Sophistication

Best Living Room Decor Trends

Explore the latest living room decor trends with Housite's curated selection. From contemporary elegance to cozy traditional vibes, find the decor pieces that resonate with your style.

Adding Character with Accessories

Learn how to infuse character into your living space with Housite's living room accessories. From statement rugs to eye-catching wall art, discover the little details that make a big impact.

Multipurpose Furniture

Maximize the functionality of your living room with Housite's multipurpose furniture. Explore innovative designs that not only enhance aesthetics but also serve practical purposes, making your space both stylish and efficient.

Culinary Delights in the Kitchen

Best Kitchen Decor Innovations

Embark on a culinary journey with Housite's best kitchen decor innovations. From space-saving storage solutions to stylish countertop accessories, discover how to create a kitchen that combines form and function.

Cooking in Style

Explore kitchen accessories that elevate your cooking experience. From elegant utensils to modern kitchen gadgets, Housite ensures that your kitchen is not just a workspace but a stylish focal point in your home.

Dining Area Charm

Uncover the secrets of adding charm to your dining area with Housite's dining room decor. From elegant tableware to captivating centerpieces, create a dining space that invites family and friends to gather.

Bathing in Luxury

Spa-Inspired Bathroom Decor

Transform your bathroom into a spa-like haven with Housite's spa-inspired decor. Explore luxurious towels, stylish storage solutions, and calming accessories that turn your daily routine into a pampering experience.

Functional and Stylish Accessories

Discover the balance between functionality and style in your bathroom with Housite's accessories. From sleek soap dispensers to minimalist storage, find the perfect elements for a clutter-free and aesthetically pleasing space.

Creating a Relaxing Atmosphere

Explore Housite's tips for creating a relaxing atmosphere in your bathroom. From soft lighting options to soothing scents, learn how to turn your bathroom into a retreat within your home.

Outdoor Oasis with Garden Decor

Best Garden Decor Themes

Step into the outdoors with Housite's best garden decor themes. From contemporary minimalism to bohemian charm, discover the decor elements that bring your garden to life.

Sustainable Garden Accessories

Explore Housite's commitment to sustainability with eco-friendly garden accessories. From recycled planters to solar-powered lights, learn how to make your outdoor space beautiful and environmentally conscious.

Outdoor Entertainment Essentials

Discover Housite's outdoor entertainment essentials, from comfortable seating options to stylish lighting solutions. Turn your garden into a perfect venue for gatherings and celebrations.

Kids' Wonderland

Playful Kids Room Decor

Dive into the playful world of Housite's kids' room decor. From whimsical wall decals to themed bedding, explore how Housite makes creating a magical space for your little ones easy and fun.

Functional Kids Room Accessories

Discover functional accessories for kids' rooms that prioritize safety and organization without compromising on style. Housite ensures that every item contributes to a space that grows with your child.

Educational and Fun

Explore Housite's selection of educational and fun items for kids' rooms. From interactive wall art to educational toys, discover how Housite helps you create an environment that nurtures both creativity and learning.

Setting the Mood with Decorative Lights

Unveiling Housite's Decorative Light Collection

Illuminate your home with style using Housite's extensive range of decorative lights. Explore innovative designs that not only brighten up your space but also serve as statement pieces, adding a touch of elegance to any room.

Creating Ambiance Indoors

Discover how Housite's indoor lights can transform the ambiance of your living spaces. From pendant lights to floor lamps, explore options that cater to various design preferences, allowing you to curate an atmosphere that suits your lifestyle.

Outdoor Lights for Every Occasion

Enhance the outdoor appeal of your home with Housite's outdoor lights. Whether you're hosting a festive gathering or enjoying a quiet evening on the patio, explore lighting solutions that add warmth and charm to your outdoor spaces.

Online Shopping Convenience

Seamless Online Shopping Experience

Explore the user-friendly interface of Housite's website, designed with the customer in mind. Navigate through categories effortlessly, find detailed product descriptions, and enjoy a hassle-free shopping experience from the comfort of your home.

Christmas Sale Countdown

As the Christmas sale countdown ticks away, emphasize the urgency for readers to grab the best deals before they expire. Highlight the convenience of online shopping with Housite, allowing customers to avoid the last-minute holiday rush.

Secure Payment Options

Assure readers of the security and convenience of Housite's online payment options. From credit cards to secure online transactions, Housite prioritizes customer safety to ensure a worry-free shopping experience.

Customer Testimonials

Real Stories, Real Satisfaction

Read heartwarming testimonials from satisfied Housite customers. Explore real stories of individuals who have transformed their homes with Housite's products and have experienced the exceptional quality and service that sets Housite apart.

The Housite Community

Highlight the sense of community fostered by Housite. From engaging social media platforms to interactive customer forums, discover how Housite connects homeowners with shared interests in home decor and accessories.

Conclusion

As the Christmas sale at Housite draws to a close, there's no better time to revamp your living spaces with high-quality, affordable decor and accessories. Don't miss out on the opportunity to transform your home into a haven of style and comfort. Visit www.housite.co.uk now and make the most of the festive deals before they disappear. Happy decorating!

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zerogutzz · 1 year ago

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yeah im going all in

Bunch of insane lore rambles under the cut LMFAO

During the GOLB invasion, the veil between worlds became it's THINNEST. The world Max came from already had dimensional rift problems, it's the very things she was set out to study along with whatever happened to come out of them.

As we all know, Sadness attracts Madness, never did Max think that a rift would pull her in. A good 12-15 years is where she ended up getting spat back out after GOLB fused with Betty and fucked off.

She was lost for 3 months. Zero human contact. Only dangers and monsters and the occasional talking animal to point her to the human city.

She DOES eventually end up making it, stumbling on to the small ferry and falling flat in to the city. These citizens were humans, yes, but Golb knows that these aren't the same humans she's used to. They're all strange, wear strange clothes, and say strange phrases she only barely understands. You can imagine the wave of astonishment and relief she felt coming up on a giant sign that read "20TH CENTURY MAN IN HIS NATURAL HABITAT"

She's from the 22nd century, but goddamn if it wasn't close enough.

Following the curious crowd, an older gentleman stood in a dollhouse-like enclosure that mimicked that of an old fashioned home, decorated in familiar items and décor. The future-humans took their turns asking very.. Dumb. Questions. Most of the time repeating the same one in different ways. For some reason they're very focused on the different lamps. It was increasingly obvious that the gentleman acting as the 20th century man was just about ready to lose it if another comment was made about how light 'bulbs' are supposed to be pronounced light 'balls.'

"Excuse me." Max spoke up over the crowd. Simon glanced over at her from between his pinched nose bridge, pausing. It looked almost as if his shoulders relaxed. The way Max presented herself was something he hasn't seen in a very, very, very long time. Familiar clothes, cadence, and energy. "Could I talk to you, um, whenever you're done touring your.. Museum." Max asked. She was trying her very best not to make it sound urgent, despite the desperation she felt in her chest. "Oh, no, yes of course." Simon stumbled over his answer, nodding quickly. "We could talk now, if you'd like. It wouldn't hurt to close early."

The other people in group either huffed, rolled their eyes, or wandered off at the suggestion. Simon rubbed at the back of his neck, motioning Max to come inside. "Walls down." There was brief confusion, but it subsided as soon as the walls to the enclosure closed down like garage doors. Simon sighed heavily, turning to the new face in town with a tired smile. "What was it that you wanted to talk about, miss..?"

"Maxine Stronghold." Habit took over, flashing her detective badge and pocketing it in a single motion. That put the man on edge, his smile faltering. "Ah, you're not in trouble. That.. Sorry. Old habit. I was actually just here to ask if you actually were from the 20th century?" He perked back up. "Wha, why, yes. Are you not familiar with- Oh, my goodness I never actually introduced myself." Max's thick brow quirked up at him, his hand extending to her form. "Simon Petrikov. I, ah, used to be the Ice King. Difficult to imagine, I know, but rest assured-"

The increasingly confused look on the woman's face brought him to a stop. "... Sorry, did I say something wrong?"

"No." She answered slowly. "I just .. Um. I don't know where I am. Or how I got here. Or how there are wizards and talking food. I haven't had any genuine human contact in months. I was kind of hoping you'd be able to help me."

A moment of silence befell the two of them. A growing realization creeped on to Simon's face, putting his hand over his mouth and mumbling, "Oh my God." before putting a hand on her shoulder to have her sit down.

"Tell me everything."

#yeah okay so bacsically #so #arhe #aheruehha #simon petrikov #max #adventure time #fionna and cake #zerogutzz art

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wri0thesley · 1 year ago

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protection - lucas (yandere oc) x reader (5.3k)

halloween has always been your favourite holiday. with your captor, though . . . perhaps not so much.

a/n: if i cannot be self-indulgent and write a fic about my cannibal murderer yandere oc for halloween when he is such a horror pastiche of a man, when can i? if you would like a primer on lucas, reading this is probably the best thing to do!

cw: yandere, cannibalism, kidnapped reader, descriptions of gore, non-explicit mentions of past dub-con/non-con.

Lucas has one of those perpetual calendars upon his mantelpiece.

You’ve never had much cause to look at it before. It’s another of those mix-and-match décor pieces that are so prevalent in the cabin; a boring block of wood and blocky white font that you suppose someone might describe as ‘minimalist’. It’s certainly not something you’d choose for yourself – and from what you’ve seen of Lucas’s own choices, his clothing, the items he gravitates towards in his little slice of home, it’s not something he’d have chosen either. Had it not, perhaps, been chosen by someone else.

You ignore the way your gorge rises when you consider that it’s one more piece of somebody who must be long dead by now. Lucas’s cabin is full of those reminders; embroidered tablecloths (your own hands are not so steady), handmade blankets (the wool used makes you itchy), clothes in the wardrobe three sizes too small and two sizes too big. A bookshelf of tattered paperbacks; crime novels and romance novels and horror novels, an eclectic mix you can’t imagine belonging to the same person.

That’s not important.

What is important is the morning after breakfast, when Lucas and you have gone out to collect eggs already and he’s held onto your waist while you carefully fried them along with the something-that-might-be-bacon that you’re growing more and more accustomed to cooking.

(It doesn’t even make you throw up any more).

He’s casual as he walks over to it; you’ve never really paid much attention to it before. It’s simply one of those rituals that he does; he likes the domesticity of a daily routine, and though you’ve always been rather more spontaneous . . . You’re hardly in a position to argue about it.

He moves the cube around and you glance vaguely towards it and you see the month and date, clear and bright as if illuminated by a shaft of sunlight.

The thirtieth of October.

You stop breathing, just for a moment. It’s been three months, then – time had lost meaning for you somewhat, after you’d realised you had no choice but to play along if you wanted to keep yourself away from the sharp end of an axe. But . . . three months. Three months of smiling nicely and forcing your mouth around the name ‘darling’ and letting his weapon-calloused hands curl about your waist, slide over bare skin. Three months of making yourself smile, of showering with a stranger in the bathroom (three months and he is still a stranger, though you suppose you know him intimately; three months, though, and you still do not know his surname), of sleeping beside him at night--

“I love Halloween.”

You don’t realise you’ve said it until it comes out of your mouth like the dry squeak of a frightened mouse.

Lucas looks up in surprise. You don’t often volunteer information readily; you answer his questions, but otherwise you’re a quiet obedient little home-maker for him, the way you think he likes you. That’s not to say you think he’d mind, but . . . you still keep some of yourself held close to your chest. You share hearth and home and body with Lucas; you think you’ve earnt the right to not have to share everything.

“S’that so?” He rumbles, after a moment. He doesn’t smile, the way he does when you tell him that you like the present he’s brought you back from town or when you let slip once that the western film he’d been watching on VHS reminded you of your childhood. “I’ve never been all too fond of it myself.”

His green gaze stays steady on you. He lets the moment stretch, waiting for your answer. You are walking a tightrope, as always; there is a right answer, you think, and a wrong answer. Which one are you supposed to pick? You’ve seen Lucas angry – that smouldering, teeth-grit explosion when he’d caught you, early on, trying to open a window.

(You’d sobbed and promised, sworn on everything you loved, that you just wanted some fresh air – that the August air was stuffy and pressing. Enough tears, and Lucas had repented, finally, drawn back his blistering anger. Calloused thumb wiping your tears away and a gruff apology, followed by; “Aww, darlin’, don’t cry like that. C’mon now.”

Followed by kissing your eyelids. Followed by the press of his body upon yours. Followed by hands on your hips, thumbs digging into your thighs to part them. Followed by him murmuring for you to cry for a different reason.

He likes the tears. It’s a good lesson to learn so early on in your life with him).

You shrug helplessly.

“I like the atmosphere?” You give him, your voice quavering at the end. “All of those kids in cute costumes, jack-o’-lanterns, cuddling up warm and cosy on the couch with a scary film on--”

His shoulders relax minutely, and he lets out a breathy chuckle.

“Yeah,” he says to you. “I s’pose those things ain’t so bad. I’m not a scary movie guy – there’re enough things to be frightened of out there in the real world, y’know?” He walks towards you, joins you on the couch. His arm wraps around your shoulder and you let yourself be drawn into his embrace, because you risk upsetting the balance again if you shy away. With a sigh of pleasure, he drops a kiss onto the top of your head. “Gets real busy up here around this time. Trespassers. I prob’ly won’t even be around mosta the night; gotta patrol the area. Think we can rustle you up a pumpkin and a coupla’ videos though, huh?”

You swallow. You know what he means by ‘patrol the area’ – you think of teenagers in local towns, daring each other to spend the night in the woods. You think about twenty-somethings with their tents and their camping and coolers full of beer, telling spooky stories about huge cannibals who live in the woods--

You think of Lucas’s weapons, the axe shining bright mounted on the wall, and the sound it had made as it had thwacked into the ground beside your head as Lucas had realised you were trembling and whimpering and sobbing and merely lost, not some ne’er-do-well out here for any other reason.

How much fuller will his freezer be, come the first of November?

He’s true to his word, as he so often is. Despite everything, he looks at you hopefully when he presents to you the things he brings back from his little foray into town; his head cocked, an echo of the earnest young man he might once have been beneath the scars and the greying.

He presents to you: one large pumpkin, three VHS tapes of movies you haven’t heard of that look like schlocky 90s B-movies, a multi-pack of sweet treats obviously intended to be poured into a bowl for trick or treaters, and a bean-filled plush of a fat black cat.

“I thought we could carve the pumpkin together,” he says, which you think is just an excuse not to leave you unsupervised with sharp implements. He trusts you to cook, now – but he still likes to be in the room, even if he’s not guiding your hand with his fingers entwined around your own over the knife.

“That would be nice,” you cautiously reply, and he smiles at you all soft and gooey-eyed. Your spine still feels like a rod has been shoved in it; being around Lucas can so often seem like a balancing act, and normally he does not come back from town in anything resembling a good mood. But giving you presents and the pleasure that had sparked in your eyes and the truth tinging your thanks have clearly set him well for the evening; he’s whistling as he rattles around in the kitchen to find the implements.

“C’mon here then, angel,” he calls, and you tuck the fat little black cat into the corner of the couch - it will be nice, you suppose, to have something to hold when you are alone later. You doubt the movies will provide much in the way of stone-cold terror, but the knowledge that Lucas is out there stalking the night and it would not take all that much for him to turn his rage on you certainly does.

It will be nice, too, to have something to hold that is yours and is not haunted by the echo of ghosts of Lucas’s past. Once, you had been uncomfortable in bed, rolling and writhing and whimpering through a nightmare – and Lucas had gently shaken you awake and placed a bear into your arms you had never seen before.

You might not have ever seen the bear before, but it had clearly once been loved; visible stitches re-attaching an ear, the velvet flocking rubbed off on its nose, the fur compacted from many nights of cuddling.

You try not to think about someone else, after you, having the little cat placed delicately in their arms.

When you enter the kitchen, you see that Lucas has spread newspaper out all over the floor, placing the pumpkin carefully in the middle with an array of carving implements and pens laid out for you. There’s a waiting candle and a box of matches on the table, waiting for the final touch.

The newspapers are all nearly twenty years old. The matches have packaging you’ve never seen before, the kind of retro artwork you’d see hipsters hang ironically on their apartment walls.

You crouch to get onto the paper he’s laid out, but Lucas clicks his tongue in annoyance at you.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says, and he pats his knee where he’s knelt with them spread apart. “Come sit between my legs and let’s do it together.”

It takes you a moment to gather the courage to do it – touching him voluntarily is always harder than when he makes the first move – but you see that shimmer of frustration in the air, the imperceptible twitch of his jaw, and you clumsily climb over to situate yourself between them. You feel him let out a satisfied exhale as one of his arms wraps around your waist possessively.

“There,” he murmurs, directly into your ear. “Ain’t that better? More . . . cosy?”

You can feel every hair on the back of your neck, the thrum of your heartbeat, as Lucas’s hand fastens over yours and works at removing the top of the pumpkin. His chest is solid behind you, a barrel of muscle and scar – and when he shifts, and his crotch in his fatigues snugly presses against the curve of your spine, it takes all of your grace not to whimper at the feel of him hot and wanting.

Domesticity always seems to stoke something in him – and you suppose this would, under other circumstances, be a perfectly lovely Halloween evening. If Lucas were somebody you loved, and not a madman who kidnapped you from the middle of the woods. If that were so, Lucas’s breath against your ear wouldn’t make your head pound – his calloused fingers over yours wouldn’t make you wonder how he got all of those scars. The sight of a sharp instrument in his hand wouldn’t make you wonder how many have met their maker at Lucas’s behest.

There is none of the joy you would normally find in this activity, doing it with Lucas’s arm around you and his body bearing down over yours. There’s instead, the knowledge that he could break your bones if he wanted to – and a desire beating at your ribcage to get this over with as quickly as possible without alerting him to how much you hate it. Lucas hums softly under his breath as he helps you scoop out the insides of the pumpkin--

You feel your gorge rise at the sight of his hands scooping out the insides alongside your own, at the sensation of the stringy sticky pulp and seeds as they coat your fingers. The viscera of the pumpkin, laid out on the newspaper, as if some grisly crime has occurred right here in Lucas’s cosy cabin kitchen.

(He doesn’t like a mess inside the house. You know about the storeroom that you’re not allowed in, having peeked in it once when he’d left the door ajar to go and pick some meat up for breakfast whilst you stood in the kitchen with the chickens pecking around your feet. When he’d come out and seen you there, you’d stammered something about Dolly the silkie having wandered off – and though there’d been mistrust in his gaze, you’d kept your eyes wide and hidden trembling hands behind your back and eventually he seemed to have believed you).

The flash of a sharp knife in his hand makes you start against your will, your back pressing against him, your rear pushing into him. He lets out a noise that’s half a strangled huff and half a breathy chuckle.

“What’re you scared of, angel?” He murmurs, and you are stiff and frozen as he gently, gently, presses the flat of the blade against the palm of your other hand. “I won’t ever hurt you. Not less you give me a reason to. And you aren’t gonna, are you?” You’re glad he can’t see the deer-in-headlights look on your face, even as you give him a jerky shake of your head, and to your immense relief returns the knife to carving. “Good. Hurts my feelings thinkin’ you’re afraid of me.”

You don’t know how to respond to that.

“I—I’m not?” You guess, stammering it out, trying to weigh out all of the options in your mind. If he was threatening you – one of those late night murmurs of “I’d break you into pieces if you ever tried to leave me, darlin’,” - then perhaps you wouldn’t have said it. But right now, he is pretending the two of you are a perfectly ordinary couple doing a perfectly ordinary thing, and so--

He laughs again, good-naturedly pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The pumpkin has taken shape now; a classic jack-o’-lantern face, jagged triangular eyes and teeth.

“You’re so cute,” he says into your hair. “Here. Look at that. Ain’t that adorable?”

Shakily, you nod. It’s not your best work – in your own kitchen, at home, you’d mastered the art of silhouetting elaborate scenes in your pumpkins. You’d used your favourite horror stills as inspiration (you force yourself not to think of last year’s pumpkin, of spending so much time carefully carving that iconic scene from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre into the orange flesh, Leatherface holding his chainsaw aloft – it’s better not to dwell too much on fictional monsters when there’s a very real one sitting behind you, holding you close, pressing a kiss to your cheek and resting his chin on your shoulder as he admires your handiwork).

This pumpkin is a little lop-sided; one eye bigger than the other, the cuts jagged and messy. But Lucas is smiling at it, and you force yourself to smile too.

“Where shall we put it?” He asks you, as he pulls himself up and offers you a hand to help you too. He’s a little too rough with it; pulling you against him with a throaty chuckle as you stumble, off-balance. Little reminders of your own fragility, your clumsiness and all of the things you struggle with always seem to put him in a good mood. “Windowsill?”

You swallow.

“C-can we put it outside?” You whisper, softly. “I know we won’t get any trick-or-treaters, or anything, but . . .”

You trail off; he’s looking at you again, the green in his gaze impossible to understand. He might be thinking about exploding into anger, he might be thinking about kissing you – but as you feel your knees threaten to knock together, he smiles instead.

It’s another smile that, on someone else, you would read as utter infatuation. Love, in all of its gooey, saccharine sweetness. On Lucas, though--

“Of course, darlin’,” he says. “Come put it out with me.”

You reach for the box of matches, but Lucas’s palm comes down over your hand before you can get a hold on them.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” he says, as he picks it up himself, and strikes a match against the striker strip. You flinch at the sudden light, and Lucas makes a soft noise of satisfaction. “You'daa just hurt yourself. Leave this kinda thing to me, sweetheart.”

He lights the candle and places it in the lantern himself, before he turns to you and gives you an indulgent smile again.

“D’you think you can carry it?” He asks you, voice soaked in honey. “Don’t drop it, now.”

You nod shyly as you take it, hating yourself for playing along with him. If he wants a sweet, naive little thing who can barely take care of themselves and needs the big strong hunter in the woods to do it for them . . . well, you suppose your dignity isn’t so bad a price to pay for staying alive.

You are allowed out of the cabin, supervised. You’d earnt that right by being sweet and soft and obedient, by doing what Lucas asks and doing it the way he likes. You go out to collect eggs in the morning and you’re allowed to help him in the garden, planting vegetables and tending to those he already has. But still, every time you open the front door it feels like a treat – a thrill running through you at the reminder that there is a world beyond the four walls of home that have become your prison.

Lucas takes in a hissing sigh through clenched teeth as he opens the door.

“It’s getting’ later than I thought,” he says, to himself more than you. “I’m gonna have to get goin’ soon, sweetheart.”

You nod, and carefully place the pumpkin by the front door, where the candle inside flickers and wavers in the light breeze. You find yourself wishing that it would somehow escape its own cell of pumpkin flesh and set the cabin afire – wondering if it would really be so bad, to perish like that.

(How many more Halloweens will you spend with Lucas? Is it worse if the number is small or large?)

“Do you have to go?” You ask him, voice tremulous.

You don’t know if you want him to go. You don’t want to be with him; he terrifies you, leaves you feeling rattled and confused and conquered all at once, his presence looming over everything you do. But at the same time – you can’t in good conscience want him to go out there, to cut down Halloween revellers who merely thought the woods would be a good place for a spooky experience. Are you far enough away from wherever he might go that you won’t hear the screams?

You wouldn’t be able to pretend even if you don’t hear them. You’ll meet them later on, at the end of your fork.

“Awww darlin’,” Lucas simpers at you, grasping your chin in a hold like iron. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, I told you. I ain’t gonna let a single thing near this cabin; you ain’t gonna be in a jot of danger. I promise.”

Your face must betray your anxiety, because Lucas tugs almost painfully on it.

“Don’t you trust me, angel?”

Sickly sweet and bladed like ice, you mutely twitch your head in a meek nod.

“Of course I do . . .” You whisper, and Lucas smiles in satisfaction.

“Stay here at the door for a bit while I get ready, okay? Fresh air’ll make you feel better.”

Unspoken goes the ‘don’t you dare try and run’. You can’t see yourself doing it tonight of all nights, either – though Lucas has been sweet throughout the pumpkin carving, you can already see that as he considers the blanket of night out beyond the cabin he is shifting into a predator. So you stand there, breathing in deep, slow, controlled breaths. Trying to think about how pretty the stars are and the candy that Lucas has brought you to eat in front of his crackling old television. Trying not to hear the thud of Lucas’s boots and the sound of him getting down the axe from the wall, the swish of the displacement of air as he gives it a few practise swings.

“There we go,” Lucas says, as he comes back. His axe is slung over one shoulder, and he’s smiling at you. He hasn’t made a single allowance for the cold; he wears the same shirt in a shade of forest green, straining tight over his shoulders and biceps. The silvery skin of his scars shine in the moonlight. “Don’t stay up for me, okay? Get yourself to bed. I’ll try not to wake you up.”

(Will you wake up, hearing him drag a corpse into the store-room? It doesn’t matter – you know you won’t get much sleep tonight).

He stands there in front of you for a long moment. Anxiety sends a bead of sweat rolling down the nape of your neck. He’s waiting for something – he wants something, and you don’t know what it is, and he’s going to be angry at you for being a bad beloved and he’s going to lodge that axe in your skull--

“Don’t I get a kiss goodbye?”

His tone is teasing, but laced with simmering anger. Grateful he has thrown you a lifeline, you practically trip over your tongue as you reply in the affirmative.

One slow, lingering kiss – possessive. You’re shivering as he pulls away, and he smiles as he wipes his thumb over the corner of your mouth with something that might be fondness and might be triumph, like a hunter who has his prey cornered.

“See you later,” he says. “Don’t scare yourself silly, now.”

You stand at the door-frame, waiting for Lucas’s hulking figure to disappear into the darkness of the trees. His axe is swung over his broad shoulders. The jack-o’-lantern beside you flickers and gutters in the breeze, your only companion out here. Lucas turns and waves one hand at you, and then makes a very firm ‘shoo’ gesture that you interpret to mean ‘that’s enough, now. Get back in the house before I make you’.

You close the door behind you and turn the key as he disappears fully from your view. You’ve always felt awkward being alone in the cabin – about three weeks after your arrival here, he had given you heavy warnings and set out to the nearest town for the kind of supplies he couldn’t make himself – but tonight, it feels all the worse.

You jump at shadows and feel like you hear screams with every footstep, your brain already playing out thoughts of Lucas in the woods surrounded by corpses, bloodied and grinning and feral-bright. You have to try twice to get the video into the player, and your hands are trembling as you attempt to open a packet of M&Ms and spill them all over the sofa. You pull the curtains closed for full immersion and almost give yourself a heart attack when you see light flickering outside, until you remember the jack-o’-lantern.

Eventually, though, you do relax into the movie.

It helps that it’s a movie about a werewolf stalking a suburban town; you don’t know if your nerves would hold out if Lucas had brought you some kind of killer in the woods movie. Even he, though, seems to have realised that – a quick glance at the other movies show you that one is about giant bugs attacking and the other is set in a hospital.

It’s not a good movie. In a different lifetime, you’d watch this with friends and laugh and joke over the cheesy special effects and the over-acting. On your own, though, you at least feel somewhat comforted by the familiarity of the horror recipe. The coquettish blonde in the hot pink outfit will die first; the outcast girl in her too-big denim jacket will survive to the denouement and will perhaps kill the werewolf herself.

There’s a sound from outside.

You’re half-asleep in front of the sagging middle act of the movie, but the crunch of leaves under feet has you bolt upright. Lucas can’t be home already, can he?

Time stands still. There’s a muffled giggle, and then a low voice murmuring something. You slowly, slowly, pull yourself up from the couch. You’re grateful to have pulled the curtains closed. At least they can’t tell you’re in here.

A hundred scenarios run through your head, none of them ending well. You think of every home invasion movie in a holiday home in the middle of nowhere you’ve ever seen. You could laugh at the absurdity of dying like that, when you’re literally the prisoner of some cannibal psychopath already . . . all of that, and some other horror trope catches up with you instead?

Three knocks on the door, and a voice jokingly calls;

“Trick or Treat!”

Oh, saying all of that stuff to Lucas about trick or treating was so stupid. Wanting a pumpkin out there so you could pretend to have one little bit of normalcy left in your life.

A rumble of conversation floats through the walls; something about a dead phone battery, needing to find somewhere with a landline, a map that didn’t seem to have any of the landmarks they’d seen marked on it.

(You can sympathise with that; the map you’d been using, once upon a time, hadn’t made a single lick of sense after you’d gotten into the heart of the woods, like some nature spirit was messing with you).

But that could just be a way to make your defenses fall, you think. You’ve seen that in movies time and time again – I need the bathroom, I need to use your phone, I’m sorry I fell over and I’m injured can I rest here--

One of them has the nerve to try the door; the key jingles traitorously in the lock.

You’re shaking as you approach. You can hear conversation now; a male voice and a female voice, arguing. They sound about your age.

“There’s a fucking jack-o’-lantern burning, and there’s a key in the front door, of course someone’s in--”

“Look, this is some horror movie bullshit, I don’t like it--”

“Do you think anyone keeping fuckin’ . . . those fluffy-ass chickens is gonna be a murderer? C’mon. It’s probably some old couple with their hearing going. I’m gonna knock again--”

Three raps on the door and you find yourself collapsed against the cabin wall, your knees trembling. You know you should answer the door and you should tell them what’s going on here. You should beg them to run and take you with them.

But now you’re faced with it, you don’t know what to do.

“Hello?” The girl’s voice is louder now. “Is anyone home?”

Oh, she shouldn’t be shouting. Lucas can hear when you drop a fork doing the washing up from halfway across the yard, and always comes hurrying to make sure you haven’t hurt yourself.

“Look,” the boy, “We just need to use your phone, we’re lost—”

Another voice cuts across the squabbling – one deeper and darker and grittier. A thick Southern accent.

“You sure as hell are,” it says, and there’s outright hate in it. “What the fuck do you think you’re doin’ on my property?”

The girl screams. You can’t blame her; at six foot four and bound in scars and muscle, Lucas is a frightening prospect at the best of times. But when he’s appeared from nowhere, holding his axe, like a horror movie villain . . .

“Shit!” The boy is swearing. “Look, man, I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

You do not see the axe come down – how could you, from the hallway, behind the door? But you hear two screams, this time – both his and hers – and you hear the wet sound of something sharp meeting something soft. Blade striking bone – the slick noise of an axe blade being pulled out of a body and then swung back in. The sound of someone choking on blood, of someone sobbing--

You don’t know how long it goes on for. Your knees give out long before the girl gives up on screaming, as you sink onto the floor and hug yourself tight and squeeze your eyes shut against the noises.

It could last forever. You try and think of something else; somewhere happier. What would you be doing right now, if you were at home? How different would your October have been?

But the slosh of blood and the hacking noise of blade and flesh worm into your consciousness, the very real massacre going on outside the front door seeping into every memory you try and recall. Your pumpkins smashed to pieces, accusing staring eyes of the corpses of your friends at last year’s Halloween party as a man with an axe mows them down in your living room--

The noises have stopped. There’s not even heavy breathing, now.

“Darlin’?” Lucas calls out, from behind the door. “C’mon. I know you’re there. You can open the door now. You’re safe.”

You can’t disobey him, you remember, as you shakily climb back to your feet, using the wall as leverage. If you don’t do as he says, then you will also meet the business end of his weapon – and he’s already said, in those jealousy-fuelled threats that he whispers into your hair at the most intimate of moments, that for your betrayal, he’d make it hurt.

You turn the key with a trembling hand, and have to force your fingers to close around the door handle. Slowly, slowly, you pull it open--

The front porch is a mess of blood and flesh and organs and other things you carefully do not look at. These people have been butchered for more than just meat – but you look up at Lucas’s eyes instead and ignore them. You can’t think too hard on it.

There are splashes of blood all over his face, flecks of red in his stubble. His clothes are ruined.

“You’re safe now,” he murmurs, and he steps forward and the tang of blood invades your mouth and your nostrils and gets on your clothes as he pulls you into a tight embrace. “Don’t worry. I told ya’, I won’t let nothin’ happen to you. Not tonight, not ever.”

He says it like this poor lost couple were a threat, and not just unfortunates who happened upon the wrong woods at the wrong time. The wrong house.

(If you hadn’t put that pumpkin out, they wouldn’t have thought that there was anyone here. It’s your fault.)

His grip around you is tight. You squeeze your eyes shut and bury your face in his chest for a moment, and try to pretend nothing has happened.

It can’t last. Lucas pulls back, takes hold of your shoulders.

“Well?” He says – and bile rises in your throat as you realise you have to say it. You have to do it. If you want to stay on his good side--

“Thank you,” you breathe out, hating yourself for every syllable. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

And as you stretch onto your tiptoes and Lucas bends down to meet your lips for a thank you kiss, you pretend that there aren’t two corpses outside of the front door.

You carved a pumpkin. You ate candy. You watched a shitty horror movie. It’s like every Halloween before it--

He pulls back; a hand ruffling through your hair, a smile on his face.

“Happy Halloween, darlin’. You get back inside while I clean this up, okay? Night ain’t over yet.”

#yandere oc #writing #ocs.txt #oc posting #yandere for ts #cannibalism for ts #dub con for ts #lucas

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nifolution · 5 months ago

Text

Love Me Forever

Pairing: Jake Jensen / Plus Size Reader

Summary: A brief look into what Jake and his Angel are up to.

Warnings: fluff, hits of sexy time

A/N: This is a sequel to Love Me Again. Takes place about two years in the future. This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is still written in 3rd person. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Love Me Again Main Masterlist

Y/N sat propped up on their bed, her legs bent up. Clad in only a bra and her lover’s eyepatch, faintly smelling like pink starbursts, cherishing the perfect moment. The fear of losing this again lived in the back of her mind. Her soulmate came back to her, she refused to take a single day for granted.

It took a long time for them to get back to this place. Rebuilding what they used to have brick by brick until their foundation was solid once more. She fell in love with him every day. With every bad joke, every laugh, every kiss. He never stopped showing that he belonged to her, and she to him.

Jake wore his favorite pirate hat and Lord of the Rings boxers. Contently cuddling his angel’s legs, placing lazy kisses on her knees, soaking up the postcoital bliss. She stroked his arm and back, making him purr. Most days he couldn’t believe his angel was real. Thankful for each day she chose him. There was no one more perfect in his eyes. He prayed he would never lose her again.

They had just finished celebrating the addition of the Sword of Omens to their weapons wall. After a brief debate on where it looked the best, they decided it fit between Excalibur and the Bat’leth. Their house décor was a geek's dream. The real deal items however, had to be hidden. Of course there were several secret passages built into the home. Y/N’s lab where she worked on her drones and Jake’s equipment had to be kept safe.

Parting her legs, he moved between them with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He has her full attention. On all fours, he growled like a tiger while stalking up her body. Once nose to nose, he pulled back, wiggling his eyebrows. His right hand disappeared under the pillow next to her, fiddling with something she couldn’t see.

“Ta da!” Jake pulled his hand out, now wearing three finger puppets.

“Are those rats?”

He tsksd at her, “Opossums my dear, America's only marsupial. Have some respect.” Shimmying lower, he half rested on her belly, making himself comfortable.

Using her as a stage, he began to dance them across her stomach as she watched with amusement.

“Look, it’s a remake of see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. BUT they forgot, smell no evil?” Jake loudly sniffed the air. “There's evil afoot.”

He continued to sniff all over Y/N, tickling her. Reaching her neck, he narrowed his eyes at her. Taking a large whiff and a small lick, he moved away. Lips pursed in suspicion, “Hmm, semi evil.”

“Mwahahaha.” A fourth puppet popped up on the index finger of his left hand.

“Villain! ATTACK!” A great battle raged across her chest and torso. “Pew pew… Kapow… Ahhh… Take that… Bang… You’ll never take me alive… Pow… Thwack.” Jake made the fighting noises to a soundtrack of her giggles.

“Oh nooooooo… Save me. Save me.” The evil opossum fell dramatically into her cleavage.

Jake glanced up, eyes wide in alarm, “He fell in a booby trap.”

Shaking with laughter, Y/N pressed her hands into her aching cheeks.

His voice took on a somber tone, “Sadly, there was no escape for the scoundrel. It was a slow death, but hey, what a way to go.”

“Now the good news is, the survivors of the war for Mount Gazongas turned their lives around. Yes, indeed. They became an overnight sensation as the next big music group, Nocturnal Melody. Their cute noses and prehensile tails stole the hearts of the world.”

Sounding like a deranged mickey mouse, the puppets began singing, “Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream. Bung, bung, bung, bung…”

The puppets covered her face for their finale. Once Jake’s hand passed over, Y/N’s eyes popped back open, greeted with his bright smile.

“Ah, my wish came true.” He softly kissed her waiting lips. “I love you, Angel.”

“I love you more.”

Jake shook his head, “Mm.”

She quirked her eyebrow in challenge, “Mmhm."

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh.”

Kissing her again, he chuckled, “The love war continues.”

She smiled into the kiss, “Never-ending.”

A finger possum inserted himself into the conversation. His high squeaky voice inquiring, “What about meeee? Do you love meeeee?”

Y/N grimaced, “Not so much.”

Gasping, Jake pulled the puppet away protectively. “How could you not love him? Poor Mr. Trashcan. Look at that face. Don't you want to keep him forever?”

“Sorry, one horny animal in this bed is enough.”

He took her hand, kissing it. The air around them seemed to shift. He whispered into her flesh, “Do you want me forever?”

“Of course I do.” She tried to break the tension with a joke, “Wait, you're house trained, aren't you?” Seeing the serious look on his face, she stopped. He doesn't wear one of those often.

“You really are my dream girl. I couldn't have imagined someone that matches me so perfectly. You are so funny and smart and sexy and thoughtful. You're creative and kind, beautiful and sweet and a blast to be around. A great friend, coworker, partner and all around badass. You understand me like no one else ever has, or will. Each day with you is the best day of my life.”

Choked up, her eyes watering, Y/N was at a loss for words.

Flashing a lopsided grin, he nervously continued, “I was originally going to make a huge spectacle, but after everything that’s happened, and how fucking amazing you are for still being with me, I didn’t want to push my luck. So I'm keeping it small, just us, and hoping with all my heart that this goes my way.”

Furrowing her brows, she searched his eyes for answers.

Jake leaned back, going onto his knees. Pulling off two finger opossums, he threw them over his shoulder. As he pulled off the last one, there was a quick glimmer and a sound of something falling in the puppet.

“Shit.” Jake shook it, trying to dislodge the item, but it wouldn’t budge. He huffed, “This is not going to plan at all.”

Peeking up into the offending puppet, he used his pinky to dig it out. “Ah ha.”

Y/N sat up straight, ripping off the eyepatch. Pinched between his fingers was a diamond ring. “Jakey?”

Jake smiled at her, assuring her this was real. “My Angel, you are everything to me and I never ever EVER want to lose you again. Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

She met his eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Fuck yes!” She shouted, grabbing his face and kissing him eagerly. When his hat fell off, she picked it up, putting it back on his head.

“You really want to spend the rest of your life with me, Jackey?”

Shaking his head, Jake took off his hat, placing it on her head. “Not long enough. You better believe I'm going to haunt your ass. And when you meet me in the afterlife, we’ll spend eternity as a fearsome ghost couple. I got places picked out we can haunt.” He slid the ring onto her finger, “We'll be legendary.”

She squeezed his hand, “Promise?”

“Promise. You got me forever, Angel.” Jake moved next to her, pulling her to him to lay down. Adjusting the covers over them, he held her to his chest and kissed her hair.

Angling her head, she kissed him properly. Murmuring, “Love you, love you, love you.”

Returning her head to rest on him, Y/N wiggled uncomfortably, a funny look on her face. She reached into her bra, pulling out the villainous puppet.

The couple erupted in a fit of laughter.

The End

A/N: A special thank you to everyone that has read this version or the original. I appreciate you all and I’d love to know your thoughts.

#jake jensen fluff #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen x y/n #jake jensen x plus size reader

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babywchronicles · 6 months ago

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Review: The Witch-Crafting Handbook

To be honest, I feel like I don't have a lot to say (though it won’t seem like it) about The Witch-Crafting Handbook by Helena Garcia. It was a little underwhelming, not at all what I expected, and feels like it doesn't quite belong in the 133.4 Dewey Decimal call number on the spine (forgive me, I work in a library).

This book is fun in a DIY sense, but didn't have much else going for it otherwise, even if it wanted to appear like it did in places. More under the cut.

So, when I picked up all my books for this batch of reviews, I wanted to get things that were really appropriate for what I wanted: more information about being a witch, witchcraft in general, and how best to proceed with my witch journey. In short, this is not one of the books that will help me with that. Perhaps it was the fact I assumed it would be going into this project that it left me disappointed.

I thought that it would have practical things, or more than it does, maybe involving charms, or tools, or something like that. And, while the first “craft” in the book is a besom (albeit more a “high-end fashion besom” to make a useful tool less boring), and Altars are touched upon (in a decorative way, though she briefly mentions what an altar is), a good portion feels like it is all aesthetic. This book is all Looks with no Magic, even if it pretends to be at times. A lot of the Real With Stuff™ feels like it came from a quick online search.

The book starts out with some anecdote with her grandmother with some her recipes for this like burns, removing stains from tea cups, and putting candles in the freezer so they last longer when burning (I’m skeptical), along with a section of “Interesting Facts” about the history of witch craft that make it feel like this is more of a Halloween Party Decoration manual that it is. Honestly, if I had read the introduction first (a bad habit of mine is to skip it to dive into the actual meat), I may have been a bit forewarned. Note to Self: read the introduction from now on.

The book is then broken up into three sections: The Witch’s Wardrobe (spooky clothes), Home Accessories (self-explanatory), The Witch’s Apothecary (hair and skincare products mostly), The Witches Cauldron (baked things that look spooky), and The Tipsy Witch (alcohol). At this point, even without having read the introduction, the table of contents was giving me a little bit of an off-putting feeling. But, I was writing a review, so I pressed on.

I should say here I made none of these things, so I don’t know if they’re even well done recipes or craft instructions. I read it, and am giving my opinion based on that alone, because I am uninterested in everything in this book. It is also worth mentioning that throughout the book, the projects either have perfectly staged, full page photographs, odd doodles representing the item, and sometimes no picture at all. It makes it feel like some of this was really just filler.

The Wardrobe section is… not my thing. It’s clearly a “let’s look Halloween” section, and some of the items in it are, honestly, ugly to me. Some of them honestly strike me as something you’d wear to a costume party and never again. But, maybe it’s just me. Some of it is admittedly cute, like the mushroom hat for a child, but it’s not something I would seek out. A lot of the items also have an expansive list of craft stuff you need to make them, which I have, but nothing I would sacrifice for this.

The décor is also disappointing. It all feels like Halloween decorations to me. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against Halloween decorations: Some may have seen my plastic skeleton in my witch corner in previous posts. I lived for visiting Spirit Halloween every October as a kid. It’s just not what I wanted from this book.

It is in the Home Accessory section that we find the short entry about altars. I had small hope going in, but while it touches on what Altars are for, it really does feel like a how-to on adding a little more witch onto that corner dresser you have room on. It is also somehow made less impressive because on the next page, on the other side of a glorious photo, is a craft item called “Vintage Halloween Hangers” that are just decorated clothes hangers with a doodle of hangers with a cat and a clown(?) themed witch on them. I wasn’t going to show pictures from inside the book, but this…

Anyway. The Apothecary section I skimmed, honestly. At this point I wasn’t interested, and I’m not a skin care kind of girl anyway. I did notice something for beards, so good on her for being gender inclusive and body-hair positive. For cooking, I looked at the pictures and felt disappointed at the Halloween party or making your kids happy vibe. I feel like at this point, the book had kind of given up any pretense of being more than what it is. I didn’t even look at the alcohol, completely bored and beyond ready to close it. Maybe it never did take itself seriously, but I really expected more Magic from a book in the Magic section of the library.

I’m beginning to feel like whoever put the call number to this book lied to me… But then, books are published constantly, and I don’t think this one was looks at very closely. Maybe the publisher billed it as a witch craft book and not something that belongs slotted next to the Christmas Crafts books. Maybe the title was confusing. Has the Dewey Decimal system failed me for the first time? No, wait, the call number for “Halloween – Handicrafts” is 745.594. This is just misplaced. Whatever.

Overall, it’s a cute enough book (even if I don’t personally find much of it aesthetically pleasing, with a wasted pair of socks thrown in for good measure), and perhaps perfect for someone looking for a witchy look, a Halloween look, but not seeking something witchcraft-related. You’re not going to get any spells or charms between the covers of this one, but I suppose if you need the vibe to get in the head space for your craft, it might work for you. It’s not for me, but some DIY-er might like it much better. Look at other reviews or check out our from your library if given a chance, though. It’s not one I would immediately buy.

My fancy new rating image is below. I hope you’re all having a good one, and will see prosperity in the future. It’s a rough time in the world right now. I know I’m struggling a bit, which is why this took so long. My other books are going to be so overdo, haha. Thank goodness for a library that doesn’t charge late fees. I count myself lucky there.

#review #book review #witchcraft #DIY #halloween #craft

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blacktobackmesa · 8 months ago

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So since we (kinda) know what Benreys house looks like. What do the other ai's houses look like? Are they copy paste in regards to the general floorplan or did Gordon go out of his way to customize each? Also what style of furniture/decor (if there's any cohesive style at all) do each of the ai's have? Asking for fanart related reasons.

Gordon didn't do much to customize the houses before everyone moved in. He gave everybody roughly the same floor plan (adjusted for number of residents per house) with plenty of options to renovate and customize things to their liking. Each home started out with some pretty basic-looking furniture in roughly the same arrangement in each house, but everybody has a phone with a digital furniture catalog for customizing and replacing things. Gordon can help move heavy items with his godly desktop interface powers, but he can be kind of clumsy when interacting objects with three-dimensional space from an isometric view. It's better to enlist his help when he's "visiting".

As for style? Oh man that's a big question. I've written before that Darnold likes mod décor, but tries to keep style balanced with usefulness. Tommy has a taste for kitsch, decorating with collectables on the walls and conversation pieces, all with bright accent colors. His dad's not too sure what his own taste is, so he likes what Tommy likes.

For the Boomers, their old living space was made up of memories more than a solid decorating style-- standard issue dormitory furniture modified to death, the big ugly floral couch from Coomer's ex-sister-in-law, and whatever they could fit in their small on-site apartment. Now that they've got a whole house and yard to work with, Bubby gets to figure out how to live in a real house for the first time. As a result, the couple's home decor style is... uh, very lived in. Honestly I don't know the best way to describe it, I just think of my own grandparents' house full of curiosities and whatever suited them best.

I welcome suggestions and different interpretations of this!

#gordon streamman

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alexha2210 · 15 days ago

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Some of the best hidden treasures for the home are discovered in thrift stores—an irrefutable fact acknowledged by interior designers and home decorators alike. Thrifting has always been a beloved hobby, but it's seen a resurgence (and even become trendy) in the last decade, with everything from vintage lamps to secondhand sofas being happily towed into people’s abodes. Its rise in popularity makes sense—thrifting is a sustainable and often affordable practice where you can find truly unique pieces. So it's no surprise that, in 2025, thrift shopping shows no sign of slowing down. Ahead, we spoke to interior designers and got their takes on which home goods will fly off the shelves in thrift stores this year, from midcentury modern chairs to dainty drinkware and more. Crystal and Glass Lighting DmyTo / Getty While glinting, jewelry-like lighting may feel like a thing of the past, Kate Pearce, an interior stylist and owner of Kate Pearce Vintage, has seen a renewed interest in tiered, crystal chandeliers—which she says are easy to find secondhand. “Along those same lines, Murano glass—and just French and Italian-inspired crystal and glass lighting in general—are going to be picked off the shelves super quickly this year,” she says. Pearce notes that this desire for shine stems from a trend toward artisanal pieces—a reaction against mass-produced items that people have been seeing more and more of in big-box stores. Maximalist Chairs Getty / kolderal Thrift stores are often home to chairs with more personality and craftsmanship. In 2025, interior designer Allison Prior anticipates that shoppers will take advantage of this unique stock. “As homes lean into ‘more-is-more’ decorating personalities, we'll be looking for interesting chairs to give a dining table a new look or an accent chair that can be reupholstered,” she says. “I also love an upholstered stool or bench for mobility while entertaining—these are a great haul for a vintage or thrift supplier.” Drink tables also add visual interest to a space, Prior notes—and make a great accompaniment to eclectic seats. “I always have my eye out for these gems when I'm thrifting!” she says. Midcentury Modern Pieces Getty / Aleksandr Zubkov Along with maximalist seats, midcentury modern chairs will continue to be popular. “Their clean lines are highly versatile and have a sense of history and craftsmanship that mass-produced chairs often lack,” says interior designer Stephanie Perez, echoing Pearce’s earlier sentiment. Perez specifically predicts a rise in the popularity of Scandinavian design from the 1950s and '70s. “Vintage Swedish pieces are gaining traction for their minimalist elegance and light wood tones—especially in pieces like armoires, credenzas, and lighting,” she says. Copper Cookware Craig John Photography Colorful pots and pans stepped into the spotlight in recent years, and they'll stay there in 2025. “It's going to be very hard to find copper on the thrift store shelves this year, especially copper cookware,” says Pearce. “From modern to traditional kitchens, copper has been on display from coast to coast.” The allure has lasted thanks in some part to copper's natural contrast with the black-and-white tones often seen in contemporary spaces. “I think copper adds some really beautiful warmth to a kitchen and also allows people to play around with mixing metals without really committing,” Pearce adds. Playful Drinkware Bill Boch / Getty Images Tableware that doubles as décor has been a huge focus in interiors, and thrift stores are a perfect place to make that vision a reality. “Pretty drinkware is a fun way to spruce up a tablescape, so keep your eye out for crystal stemware and serving bowls,” Prior says. Features like scalloped edges, colorful glass, and ribbed surfaces add special shine to dinner parties, or even while on display in a hutch—and are easy to find vintage or secondhand. Decorative Ceramics Getty / Catherine McQueen Ceramics are another dinnerware staple that can transform into artwork when displayed in unconventional ways. “I often go thrifting for tableware like decorative pottery and handmade ceramics,” says Perez. “I love the artisanal and unique nature of painted plates, tureens, and mugs.” In particular, she’s noticing that Spanish Fajalauza tableware is on the rise, coveted for its bold primary hues and artistic patterns. “People are finding fun ways to display them on their walls,” she says. Quilts and Fiber Art cenglanddesigns / Getty Quilts are an age-old craft that's regaining appreciation, bringing cozy texture and punchy hues into the home. “People are really starting to rebel against mass production, and nothing signals this more than a homemade quilt,” Pearce says. “[They] allow people to play around with color and pattern—both things that are surging in popularity—without having to buy a yellow sofa or splurge on wallpaper.” Fiber arts in general will follow this revival—Prior says that people are loving tablecloths for the same reason. You can always get creative with these textiles, too, whether you use them for their intended purpose or hang them up on a wall and transform them into tapestries. Wicker and Rattan Getty / Isabel Pavia Some classics never lose their luster, a point that savvy thrifters will prove once again this year. “Wicker and rattan furniture, like dining chairs, mirrors, and storage pieces, will likely be a favorite, as natural textures add warmth and a lived-in charm to any space,” Perez says. The earthy material, traditionally made from palm trees, is durable and long-lasting. As with other thrifted items, people are drawn to its craftsmanship; the material's intricate weaving and lacy patterns will only continue to have shoppers smitten. '70s and '80s Décor Getty / imaginima Yearning for a blast from the past? You’ll want to get to thrift stores before everyone else snags the pieces that remind you of your childhood. “I think we lean toward nostalgia, so we look for eras that are meaningful to our parents and grandparents,” Prior says. “I was a kid in the ‘80s and those natural wood tones, brass finishes, and cottagecore patterns always jump out at me.” Perez also notes that ‘70s aesthetics—with their warm tones and curvilinear forms—are also gaining traction, resonating with today's penchant for cozy interiors. “Franco Albini-style bamboo mirrors from the '70s in particular are on trend at the moment,” she says. Picture Frames Getty / Witthaya Prasongsin New picture frames often ring in at double the price—or even more—than those you can find at a local thrift store. Plus, thrifted frames have extra charm, with decades-old designs and unique shapes. For Prior, these are at the top of her list. “Mixing old with new is a core value for my design projects—we love to build character in our spaces with personal heirlooms playing off newness,” she says. “A treasured family photo gets that much cooler if it's in a vintage wood frame spray-painted gold.” Coffee Table Books In an era where people are going increasingly digital, having actual books in the home can make a room feel more grounded and timeless. And vintage coffee table books are a perennial favorite among thrifters, according to Perez. “I often gravitate toward interior design books and have an ever-growing collection on favorite topics ranging from art and fashion to travel and architecture,” she says. “They provide a sophisticated and personal way to showcase your interests and are perfect for layering throughout your home.” Vintage Table Lamps Getty Images “Vintage table lamps featuring sculptural or hand-painted bases paired with pleated or scalloped lampshades are also likely to be sought after," says Perez. "They bring a lot of character to your home, while also providing functionality." For a custom look, you can always buy a table lamp for its base, and swap out the lampshade for something more your style. Source link

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