#domesticated clowns

[tired-but-lucid]

dear clown husbandry tumblr, I’m looking into adopting my first clown. I went to the clown shelter last week. Because I know space is important, I was originally looking for a pygmy clown, but there is a little guy there that stole my heart. He’s a smallish Tramp-mixed mutt, mostly brown and grey but with a lovely mix of patterns and a few pops of colour. I’ve heard that tramps bond fairly quickly, is this true? I thought if any clown would feel at home in a rural basement suite, it would be a small tramp-mix (he would have yard space and I am aware that clowns with less space need more frequent walks)

if he wouldn’t do well in my home, I’ll of course leave him for a more suitable home. I’d just love advice from those experienced in clownery!

[coffit0]

This happened in canon btw I was there trust me

[cherry-pop-elf]

Over For Dinner

Art The Clown x Reader

AN: I got SO MUCH love for my Your Own Happy Ending so here we are with more horror x reader content!

Sum: Halloween had passed and Christmas was just around the corner. You were just doing some domestic things when you couldn’t help but notice a window was open. One you had locked

Warnings: 18+, Violence, gore, home intruder, Art being Art, MUTE Art (gotta take the disability rep when we can) gun violence, implied cannibalism, attempted sexual assault, (but we all know revenge is on its way. Shout out to my fellow victims that need their comfort killer to kill their abusers) it’s gonna get messy, very horror aesthetic story line, just. Art being art. (Needs another warning 😭) and of course domestic fluff as icing on this murder cake

“Honey! Where did you put the Christmas lights?!” You shouted to your boyfriend, only to stumble upon them in the kitchen. Just where he had left them for you.

“NEVER MIND-!”

You would grab the box, and started to hang the slightest all through out the interior of the home. Oh the joys of LED lights. Saves you money while still enjoying the festive spirit.

It wasn’t Halloween, sure, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be fun. To enjoy the lights, music, sounds, and pleasures. Each holiday had its own little flavor. Some might not enjoy certain flavors, others may have a favorite. Doesn’t hurt to dabble in multiple.

You were humming away at some Christmas tune, while wrapping the lights or hanging them, when you stumbled upon an open window. You would poke your head out, and looked around. Was wondering where that draft came from.

You pulled your head back in, and then closed it shut. That’s when you noticed something was off with the lock. It was locked in place, yet the window had been open. You gave the window another look over and found that the wood work looked strange. Like someone shoved a crowbar between it and forced it open. The small splintering a reaction from it.

“Honey?” You called out, trying to reason that maybe it was his doing. Some kind of prank of sorts. Yeah. Your boyfriend was quite the card after all. Would make sense that he would do something wild. Always liked to keep you on your toes.

Still…..This wasn’t his style. Not his style at all. Was way too subtle. He’s NOT the subtle type.

You hurried back into the kitchen, and pulled out one of the knives from your block. Someone was inside the house. Someone who shouldn’t be.

“Hey honey?! You still in the attic?!” You called out, as you slowly walked the hallways. Maybe if you kept making it clear you weren’t the only one in the house that the intruder would get scared and run off. Right?

That’s what you hope anyway. You had a theory that this person assumed you lived alone. Your boyfriend always made sure to leave the house at night, and it was normally very late at night no less. People wouldn’t assume you had someone live with you.

“Honey?!” You called again, wondering why he wasn’t responding. Yeah he can’t respond, but he had ways to indicate he heard you. You made the effort to learn sign language for him, and he made the effort to find alternatives to share his voice with you.

Just where was it right now?

Slowly through the hallways you went. Each step as calculated as it could be. Every creak of a floorboard was memorized by all your little hide and seek games with your partner. All the corners treated with care. Any sound you heard was listened as hard as ears could muster.

Nothing but wind, cars driving by, and your own breathing.

Like a crack of lighting the back of your head was grabbed, and your face was slammed into the wall. Such pain made your body instinctively let go of your blade, and reach for where you hurt. Curse your human reaction. Hardly so much as touched your face when you were yanked away from the bloody wallpaper.

A arm was around your throat, and another around your waist. Your fingers tried to tear at the arm on your neck, but the invader was wearing thick clothing. No way for you to get any kind of hit. All you could do was fight to breathe.

“I know you are home all alone. That Honey bullshit isn’t fooling me. Now just play nice and you won’t get hurt more than needed. Got it?” The man would speak into your ear, as you felt cold metal being pressed against your temple.

Guess you gotta play nice.

“The hell do you want, huh?” You snapped. Suppose when your lover is a few lions short of a full circus you don’t get scared of dangerous situations as easy as you should. If this was between you and your boyfriend it would simply be foreplay.

“Well for starters money. You got yourself a pretty fancy house here. Not enough for security cameras, but it’s clear you got enough. I also want to have some fun with you. No point wasting a warm body.” He chuckled at you, as he would rub the gun across your body. Made you want to gag. Or was that just the borderline suffocation?

“Fuck off. For your information I do have a boyfriend. My boyfriend is an insane bastard no less. He’s going to turn you into mush for what you are doing to me. He’s around here somewhere. Must be behind the house helping decorate. You are dead meat when he comes in here!” You threatened, just to get the barrel of the gun pointed back at your temple.

“Oh will you fucking shut up? You got no boyfriend. I’ve been watching this house for ages. Never seen him once. It’s always just been you. I sure as hell never heard him either-!” That’s when you had to cut in. “He’s mute you shit head. Of course you wouldn’t hear him-!” That just made him laugh.

“You are really sticking to that whole boyfriend thing, huh? Well if it’s true then that means you know how to please a man. Don’t you?” That made you shiver in disgust, as he gave another tight hug around your waist. Just finding any excuse to touch you.

That’s when there was the sound of the back door opening.

“Who the fuck is that?” He would grit between his teeth, as you grinned.

“My boyfriend. Duh.”

That didn’t please him one bit. The attacker was soon trying to drag you somewhere else in the house. To try and maybe buy some time to think of how to handle two people against one. You sure made sure he struggled though. Kicking your legs, and trying to make a noise. The cold metal to your temple made it clear you couldn’t speak or it’s game over. So all you can do is legs.

He was making an attempt for the stairs, to try and make distance away from the back door, but that just gave you the perfect kicking items. You nailed each photo frame you could with your feet. Sent them crashing down, and glass breaking. Was very loud against the quiet house. Not to mention since it’s on the stairs they would go toppling down.

That noise alerted your boyfriend in an instant, and now he was at the bottom of the stairs.

He looked like such a normal guy. Snow was still fresh on his black boots and pants. A cozy white sweater and gloves. A nice finish was a black beanie. Looked like your typical string bean. The only thing that seemed off at all was his very defined nose. If not that, just another guy off the street.

“Watch it! I’m the one with the gun here! Don’t try anything or the bitch gets it!” The man would yell at your boyfriend, as said boyfriend held his hands up. Acting as if he was a scared man.

“We are going to do things my way. That means no funny business, got it?!” You couldn’t stop your snort, despite the dire situation. Had him look down at you, and press the gun harder into your temple.

“The hell is so fu-!”

Bang.

The intruder wasn’t the only one with a gun.

He was just to damn fast for the attacker to comprehend. One second he had a gun at your head, the next he was tumbling down the stairs. Screaming in pain, as he had been shot right into his hand.

“I warned ya! But no~! Someone wanted to be all big and tough huh?” You mocked, as you would come down the stairs. Stepped right over him, and gave your knight in shining armor a kiss of gratitude. Arms wrapped around his neck, and his own around your waist.

“Eh. Guess we should be good hosts and have him over for dinner. I know you love fresh meat.” You giggled, as your attacker was in pain and confusion. Didn’t have time to ask what you meant, before he was tossed over the shoulder of the man who shot him. Gun playfully spinning in his hand, as you focused on cleaning up the mess.

You would hum away, as you would hang up the photos that weren’t broken, meanwhile the intruder was screaming for help. Begging for god to save him.

There was no god here.

You would take the gun off the stairs, and bring it to a trunk that was stuffed full of weapons. Many your boyfriends, but most from all the other people who tried to fuck with the clown.

You locked it up, and came to the kitchen. Going to get some bleach from under the sink.

“Aw dammit. We ran out of bleach. Art, sweetie, do we have any in the pantry?” You looked over so casually, while the man was strapped down on the marble counter top. Currently having himself become a dissected mess. Organs currently being pulled out and separated.

Art would give you a nod, before getting back to work. That work being pull the man’s heart out, and offering it to you. Had you all giggly, as you kissed his bloody cheek.

“Aren’t you sweet. I’ll clean up the stairs while you finish with dinner. Guess we don’t have to worry about a Christmas ham this year. Thanks so much for coming over! Saved us alot of stress.” You would wave at the man, as he would soon just lay there. Eyes glossy from death pulling him to wherever his soul may lay.

“My hero.” You laughed, as you kissed his cheek again. Was happily returned, before you two nuzzled your noses together. As if simply newly weds.

What a way to start the holidays.

[tealmoth]

me: it’s about the TRAGEDY, it’s about the DIVISIONS and the way they’re forever intertwined not in SPITE of those divisions but rather BECAUSE of them, it’s about the words between words, the words within silence, silence replaced by the clicking of a handgun’s safety mechanism, it’s about bitterness in an orphanage’s walls and LOVE!!! IN!! A!!! BURNING!!!! CHURCH!!!!!

also me: bbut what ifff,,,, thheyy actually got old and married,,,, anndn near had back problems frrom sitting on the gd floor like a shrimp all the ttime,,, and mello could give hhim shoulder rubs while complaining the whole ttime,,,,, that would be nice i thhink,,,,,,

[magewolf-the-artist]

Day 7! Give it up for day 7! Sorry it's cut off, the prompt's supposed to be 'family'

Hey, sometimes a family is a mom, two of her children forced to share a body, and the 20 year old intern they adopted

Or; Ashley now gets to see all the creepy crawlies Rocket finds around the facility and Rosemary, while sympathetic, is amused

Also, I wanted to see what Ashley would look like if she had eyes like the rest of the cast and-

... you know what, maybe just put those away, girlie...

[wordy-little-witch]

Okay time to project~

Cross Guild poly info, but I'm gonna focus specifically on interdynamics because I freaking adore them and as someone polyamorous myself, it's super important to have and foster connections one on one and by and large.

Let's begin!

CrocoHawk

• they have had a mutual respect for one another for years prior to falling into orbit of each other. Mihawk always found Crocodile's no nonsense attitude to be wonderful and Croc in turn found Mihawk's unapologetic authenticity to be refreshingly real. They really went from acquaintances to friends to lovers pretty smoothly.

• they both enjoy quality time as their preferred dates, either something parallel where one reads and another practices something or they attend something like an opera or an event with minimal socialization with others.

• Crocodile cannot cook, but he is a decent prep assistant so some moments between them are in the kitchen with music playing and it's quiet and peaceful.

• they're both very hard headed and set in their ways. They're also opinionated. Sometimes this makes them a force to be reckoned with as a united front. Sometimes it means they fight like cats and dogs.

• they both take a very long time to come around to the idea of being a unit as opposed to two small islands with a little bridge between, but once they do, they are COMMITTED.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

CrocoBug

• They knew of one another prior to Roger's execution. Crocodile was on Whitebeard's crew specifically which occasionally crossed the Rogers. He had seen Buggy around a few times and never understood the appeal until one evening after a friendly battle, during the feast, when Buggy walked right up to Roger, handed him a small bottle with a tiny scowl, and said "your chest is crying again, you didn't take your medicine." Roger laughed it off, complied, and sent the angry boy on about his evening. When asked about it, Roger laughed brightly, explaining that he'd caught a bug a few islands back, Buggy and Crocus were being overly protective, and the kid's observation haki was off the charts, even by his standards. If Buggy says he hears something, Roger tells them proudly, you'd damn sure better listen. Crocodile ends up looking over, trying to steal glimpses of this young child who earned such regard from such a man as Roger.

• they go years without seeing one another, though Buggy did have a bit of a puppy love crush on Croc when he was young. It eventually petters out, and they are tangentially aware of the other in a vague sense. It isn't until Impel Down that they are pushed into proximity again. Crocodile was uncaring at best in the beginning - and then there was a damn near revolt on the stolen ship, he was preparing to go on the offensive, and Buggy - enigmatic, long haired, cowardly (?) Buggy - stomps it out faster than Croc could fathom. It is then, seeing the glint of calculation behind fiery blue eyes, that he begins to Think.

• nowadays, they are together, and their preferred time together is usually parallel engagement. Croc will do his paperwork and report reviews while Buggy works on trade routes, navigation, ciphers and his weapons stores. The Guild expands rapidly with many offers of sponsorship or partnership as they extend their horizons beyond general bounty assignments.

• Buggy sings to himself while he's working, a soft little thing where his voice pours over words and melodies like honey. Croc gets to used to it that sometimes doing his work without the background noise leaves him antsy and bored. He's embarrassed to admit it.

• Buggy meanwhile begins to associate the scent of Croc's cigars with productivity. You know that saying, some folks wind you up and others calm you down? That's the poly ship, but Croc and Buggy wind each other up.

• they both have formidable tempers. Usually it doesn't ignite on each other - Buggy out of mild fear and desire to not fuck it up - but when they do explode on each other? Oooh, it can get WILD.

• the make up afterwards is equally if not more so.

• Crocodile is the one to bring up to Buggy questions about his mental health. It's not to be mean, but he poses it as a "I once had this business partner who did X, Y, Z things, you remind me of them a lil bit. You good?"

• Buggy's all over the place and needs near constant assurance that he is loved in a way that makes sense to him. He will not ask for it because he's both embarrassed by it and also terrified to be denied outright. Luckily Crocodile doesn't pull punches. Words are not his strong suit, but his affection and care are shown in other ways that Buggy learns to know.

• on Bad Days for either of them, Buggy demands snuggles. He's a cuddly person by nature, and he can usually convince Crocodile to at least humor him in that. His baby doll eyes are a lethal weapon, and so he'll climb Croc if the other is busy or will drag the other off to pull him down on top of him, tuck the other's head on his chest over his heart, and will play with black-violet hair, singing, chattering or simply breathing. It's good for them both.

• they also bond over the fruitwanis. Buggy adores animals, loves them so much, and the fruitwani are no exception. He enjoys learning about their care, likes learning in general, especially when it's important to him or interesting. Crocodile is happy to share something he loves so dearly with a person he loves as well. ((His biggest act of devotion, respect and care is when he gifts Buggy his own 'wani. The reptile hatched differently from the rest, either smaller than average or with an odd coloring scheme or something else. Crocodile took one look at the baby wani and thought "Oh, my clown would love you." The idea remained for a good deal of time. Survival of newly hatched wanis is finicky, so the idea remained until he knew this one was likely to live, to survive and thrive with the right care. He trusts Buggy with that care. The trust is not lost on Buggy when Croc gives him the lil one))

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

HawkBug

• while they don't seem to mesh at first glance, these two actually compliment each other nicely. Buggy matches the energy around him when he isn't in a position or role to perform. This can lead to cute moments, soft moments, and absolutely unhinged moments

• Mihawk has many bird like tendencies true to his moniker, but he also spent a lot of time with the humandrills and so has some more.... animalistic ape like habits as well that he hides more often than not. Chief among them is his version of a smile being more bared teeth and his habit of grooming others. It's acts of service and instinctive. He is thriving.

• on that habit by the way, he and Buggy are both autistic coded to me and I love the idea of them sharing in stimming and hobbies and special interests. Mihawk is No Thought Head Empty when Buggy is going absolutely insane over chemicals and synthesis and balancing equations. He enjoys seeing the clown so happily animated. He understands nothing other than Happy Clown, Happy Birb. Buggy likewise doesn't understand a lot of Mihawk's gardening but he loves seeing his swordsman boyfriend enjoy himself and stim while talking.

• speaking of stimming - Mihawk loves Buggy's hair. It's a good color, texture, look, thickness, weight, he is constantly fighting a battle to not just shove his hands into the hair 24/7. Buggy wouldn't mind at all, he likes having his hair played with usually, but Mihawk had a Reputation. Once the Guild calms a bit more and everyone relaxes into each other, he'll stim more freely with select people around beyond his boyfriends.

• Buggy has spent a lifetime trying to avoid some of his more notable stims in order to be taken seriously, so having Mihawk unapologetically saying "wait no tell me more" or "do what makes you feel best - you are most beautiful when you are happy" makes him SOAR with butterflies. Visual stimming absolutely is great, but he also loves vestibular and kinesthetic stimming. Aerials his beloved ♡♡♡

• stim dates stim dates stim dates

• speaking of dates: despite general ideas, Buggy's not always one to want big Flashy dates. Sometimes cooking dinner with Mihawk while they chat or play music or dance in the kitchen is the most rewarding to him. They usually wind up both laughing and pressing close and sharing kisses while making whatever recipe they decide on. Sometimes Mihawk will take point with a dish he knows well. Sometimes Buggy is the one in the lead. Regardless, it's usually a cozy affair with good food, better company, some drinks and cuddles near the end, all wrapped up with a good book or conversation.

• they both have a guilty pleasure for trashy romance novels, so sometimes they'll both read a book, have a lil book club about it and have fun discussing it, making fun of the wording or plot or characters, sometimes trying to figure out positioning in certain scenes and then absolutely losing it when they make eye contact either because of how ridiculous the posing is or because one made a stupid yet silly comment or one liner that sends the otherr into hysterics.

• Mihawk snorts when he laughs and Buggy loves getting it to happen.

[introspectivememories]

cannot stop thinking about loguetown shuggy and im not talking post-execution shuggy. loguetown shuggy as in the two-year gap between reaching raftel and roger's execution. like that was it!!! that was the universe giving their chance to be together!!! to get it right!!!! except they were what? 14? 15? so of course they got it wrong!!!! of course they fucked it up, and now they've spent decades apart and buggy's got a good thing going with crocodile and mihawk and shanks is finally ready to claim the one piece or whatever and the last time they properly talked was at their captain's son's execution. funny how the only thing that seems to bring them together is death

[artsfavoritehorn]

a crowd chanting in the distance: *domesticated art the clown domesticated art the clown domesticated art the clown!*🗣️🗣️🗣️📢📣📢📣📢🙌🙌

[poisonousquinzel]

Harley is so cute in the Gotham Girls comic but jfc the writing around her is so questionable the large part of the time 😭😭

sorry (no I'm not) but actually that feels so damned victim blamey and I resent the nasty ass way comics talk about her mental health problems it's so offensive. Paul D. Storrie im in your closet

like now why the fuck would Ivy or Barbara react this way? Ivy knows her and Barbara is literally a superhero,,, she also knows damn well who Harleen was???? it's kinda like a part of the superhero thing is learning about the enemies you're facing???? "Sure Harley I know" yeah she does know because Harley's fucking right you don't just get hired at ARKHAM what is wrong with the writer of this comic???

AND SHE WASN'T A PHYCOLOGIST !!!!! SHE'S NEVER BEEN A DAMNED PSYCHOLOGIST !!! ITS A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT THING FROM BEING A PSYCHIATRIST FFS !!!!!!!!

[tribbles-the-lesbian]

☁️☀️☁️

It’s a nice day~

Yeah…

It is

☁️☀️☁️

The Tribbles were often seen lying in the grass with each other, bathing in the neighborhood’s warm sun. The other neighbors would join them on occasion as they walked by. Even our ever-busy mailman Eddie would stop by while delivering mail to join the cuddle-huddle! It was quite an enjoyable scene to see the neighbors dozing (Wally, of course, would say aloud ‘I’m sleeping, I’m sleeping, I’m sleeping…’) These moments only ended once Barnaby either stood up to look down at his napping friends or walked upon the cuddles late and yelled “Well, ain’t this the perfect setup for a dog pile!!” The neighbors had little to no time to move out of the way before the large dog jumped on top of everyone, only getting off the struggling neighbors if he was asked very politely to move or if someone was distressed

[splickedylit]

Domestic Diplomacy III proceeds apace

(==>Jade: hear the holy and hilarious word)

Gamzee is in the next room over, sitting on a big squishy-looking pillow in a kind of cross-legged sprawl that makes it really clear how his legs don’t bend in the same ways human legs do.  You’re delighted to realize, for the first time, that troll feet are padded like their palms.  You hadn’t thought about it—the chitin claws cover almost the whole toe the same way they cover pretty much the whole finger, and they don’t seem to spread a whole lot, so it’s easy for your brain to read them as hoof-like and move on.  But there’s little beans down there!

Alien contact really is just the gift that keeps on giving.  What a good day already.

Karkat is occupied bustling and hustling around greeting people like the bossiest little mother hen—(And take off those, the fucking foot-clothes, my hive is clean, don’t you put shit and dirt on the ground!  Put them here, by the, tss, the, damn…in-and-out place!)—so you stroll over into the other room and lower yourself onto the floor to watch whatever it is Gamzee’s looking at.

You kind of thought maybe he’d started movie night early, but he doesn’t seem to be watching a movie.  He has something that looks a lot like a normal human tablet propped up on a table, and he’s watching what looks like a live feed of a huge room full of other trolls, with a guy at the front talking.

“<—(A sentence subject you must have missed) is the funniest (implied:warning-shot-level danger) motherfucking make-mess the (something)s could do to make want,>” says the troll at the front of the crowd, succinctly proving to you that Gamzee is not the only troll who seems to think more verbs is better and sentence order is a pointless invention.  The guy talking doesn’t sound exactly the same, but he stretches his hums and chirrs and growls out and piles his clicks together in a really similar way.  “<We’re all (body parts?) up in the air, down up our (whole/entire) motherfucking horns in dirt.  (Some kind of noun with the food-descriptor ‘sweet’ in it) on our (body part again?  It sounds like a compound word of ‘face’, sort of) and that isn’t a motherfucking mistake.  It’s no motherfucking mistake, brothers!”

Gamzee says some kind of emphatic imperative verb—in a polite, subordinate inflection, which is pretty unusual for him.  On the screen, a few other people do the same thing, mostly saying words you don’t know—one of them you hear says “<Say it, motherfucker!>” and another one says “<Yes, brother, yes!>” with the heaviest subordinate inflection you’ve ever heard.  Somebody else honks a bike horn.

[constantvariations]

Considering aura is a thing, it'd probably be a lot harder to catch a batterer since the victim's wounds would heal and leave no evidence

[cornerstoreclown]

It’s Christmas Eve and I’m on my break, thinking about what prompts to send in, and then it hit me- what it would be like to slow dance under some pretty lights with Art? 🥺 -💀

HHRRUGUGHHH YOU'RE GETTING ME IN THE FEELS RIGHT THERE ANON OHH YM GOD. I hope you don’t mind that I combined this request with your playlist one, it just tied together really well incidentally, so I was like, fuck it. 

REQUESTS: CURRENTLY CLOSED. 

A short ficlet with a gender neutral reader making Art a playlist out of circumstance and... Well, they both dance to it! Very domestic. No warnings listed. Lightly proofread, I am very tired from work.

------------------------------------------------------     The few times that you visited Art’s hideout, you’d bring some stuff for yourself to do while he worked. Sometimes you’d bring your Switch, sometimes you’d bring work for yourself, and you’d be doing your thing while he did his. It was this weird, twisted kind of parallel play where you did what you wanted, and he did what he wanted, and the both of you enjoyed each other’s presence in the silence. You’d eventually bring more of your own kinds of things over, slowly setting up the place to your liking just as much as his. He’d allow it. The place was a little dreary at one point, and you brought in colorful lights to wrap along some support beams and hang on the walls with some tape. It kind of reminded you of a carnival, or the holidays. You brought a bean bag shortly after for yourself to sometimes sit in or nap.

Then, one time you brought a speaker device to hook up to your phone to play music, where you played what you wanted rather quietly, mindful to not disturb Art as he was often hammering, screwing, and binding things together. You remember when he eventually began to snap his fingers to the beat absentmindedly every so often, and that’s when you began to play your music slightly louder. You soon began to notice that he had his favorites, where he’d bob his head, dance in place in his seat as he worked to the music that he really liked that you made a point to play for him. For the more dramatic songs, he’d have flair in the way that he’d use his body to emphasize certain rises and drops in the energy. You even saw when he was working standing up, he’d danced in place before, and you kept to yourself the laughter in watching him in his element as if you weren’t even there. 

One of those times after dancing, a slower song transitioned in the playlist you made that was, by the way, specifically his playlist. He helped you curate it over time as you took note over which songs he took a liking to, and which ones he didn’t seem to have much of a reaction towards. During that slow song, you were focused on your switch, sitting on a bench nearby with dried blood on it, but found yourself interrupted when a hand jutted itself in front of your face. You jumped a little when that happened. You looked up at him, and he was staring down at you expectantly. 

“You want me to dance? With you?”

He emphasized how he wanted you to take his hand by the way that he jerked it in front of your face a second time. You leaned back a bit, and took his hand.

“Okay--if you’re sure--AH!”

He yanked you to your feet, and you frantically had to put your game on the bench before he took you away. You didn’t even have time to turn it off. 

The way that Art held your hands up with his, interlaced his fingers with yours, and began to dance slowly in place with you is something you’ll never forget. You didn’t know that he had it in him to do that sort of thing, and you remember looking up at him, your eyes meeting his--prey and predator unified together as one. The dance was slow, it was easy, and he swayed, and you let him take the lead. The way that he was looking at you the entire time was intense, you felt so small compared to him. And yet, as you both swayed in place, going in a circle, leaning as he did from time to time, you couldn’t help but feel like you’re more alive than ever. 

The lighting in the room was dim. It was easy. The work that you did in making the space partially your own made it feel like a home away from home. Art really made it whole. The entire room felt like it was dreamy, the colors and the soft music worked in tandem with Art’s gentle touch that could have made you think you were asleep if you hadn’t known any better.

At one point, you closed in the distance between the both of you, pressed your head against his chest while still holding his hands. You couldn’t hear a heartbeat, but you imagined one there. You closed your eyes, and he rested his head overtop yours. You didn’t know that Art was one for romance, but you were happy. You think that at that time, he was happy too. The way that he looked at you when he had to pull away had a language of longing to it. There was also contentment. You have that gaze burned into your memory. 

You’re thinking about it right now, sitting on his bench. He left a few hours ago. You expect him to come back covered in blood. It’s practically routine at this point.

Maybe when he gets back, he’d be up for one more dance. This time, you think, opening up the playlist for him on your phone, looking through the more upbeat songs he likes, that he’ll enjoy something a little more on the lively and happy side. Something vigorous. 

You can only purse your lips in a thin line and smile to yourself. 

[magewolf-the-artist]

Misery incarnate!

Meanings:

Asphodel (Tall white blooms)- Death, the underworld, grief, rememberence

Spider Lily (Red flower with the curled petals)- The cycle of life and death, abandonment, loss, seperation

Yew (Green branches with red berries)- Sorrow

Milkwort (Blue-ish purple flowers)- Hermitage

Mushrooms (I used Reishi mushrooms in this specific example)- Loneliness, solitude, resilience, character growth

[jessetwinkmanfrombreakingback]

There’s a feral clown in my backyard, and it looks hurt. I’ve never taken care of one before but living in bumfuck nowhere doesn’t give me much of a choice. The closest exotic vet is literally a whole 3 days drive and I’m not about to do that for a small scrape. Not sure on the species, will update later.

[reddiesworldsblog]

daily reminder day 145: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he and richie swimming around in this big and beautiful waterfall they found while on a hike in italy. just like they used to do back in derry at the quarry, they held hands and jumped down into the body of water below them from the top of the waterfall. this trip has been amazing and everything he and richie had been wanting. unfortunately it’s their last day of their vacation, but at least they’re spending the day knowing that they had a great get-away trip.

daily reminder day 146: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he has jet lag out the ASS. him and richie just got home from italy and he’s already misses it. but he’s also really tired, and the first thing he and richie do is collapse on their bed and sleep for hours.

daily reminder day 147: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s enjoying really good fruit salad out by the backyard pool. even though it’s hot as hell outside (90 degrees), he’s sitting in the shade and the watermelon he put in his fruit salad is kinda really saving his life right now. the heat fucking sucks but at least he has fruit and he has a really nice view of richie in the pool and how his back muscles move as he swims in the pool. today is a good day.