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darlingdaisyfarm · 3 months ago

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texting Stan and Ford headcanons

smut version

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Stan Pines

✧ Stan is the kinda guy who thinks emojis are a scam, but somehow, he figured out how to use the "thumbs up" and "money bag" emoji. so, expect a lot of those in your chats.

✧ his text tone is rough, a little misspelled, typed like he's yelling even when he isn’t. Half of his texts are in all caps, and he absolutely does not care about grammar. but he gets the point across, always.

✧ you’re getting messages at 3 am about some ‘brilliant’ scheme to make a quick buck. he’ll send, “LISTEN, doll, what if we made... GIANT… glitter-filled eggs for easter? Tourists'll go NUTS." you reply, half-asleep, with “Stan, ily but go to bed." and all you get back is a “🤬 YOU GOTTA THINK BIGGER!”

✧ Stan sends those weird chain messages he swears are from some “hotshot businessman” that’ll make you rich in a week. and when you don’t respond immediately, you get a: “Fine, Miss Doubtful, see you when I’m rolling in gold.”

✧ there are whole days where he just floods your phone with random, blurry photos of some new Mystery Shack "artifact" he found. It’s usually junk he picked up at a garage sale, like a “haunted” ashtray or some knock-off painting that’s “probably ancient.”

✧ If he’s feeling sappy (and tipsy): you might get a rare “thinking bout you, sweet thing” at 2 am. but if you try to call him on it the next day, he’ll just be like “Didn’t say that. You’re makin’ stuff up.”

✧ when he’s really riled up about something, though? then his messages are just. . . a stream of caps-lock curses, mixed with misspelled attempts to describe whatever nonsense he just got himself into. you just sit back and let him rant; he’ll cool off eventually.

✧ and the voice messages are something else. they sound like he’s talking through a fan half the time. one minute, he’s rambling about how tourists are “the dumbest suckers on the planet” and the next, he’s ranting about how “bigfoot definitely broke into the shack last night!"

types of messages Stan texts:

"So… whatcha wearin’? 😏"

“Hey doll, I just found a penny on the ground! Maybe today’s my lucky day… hint hint ;)"

"I’d say somethin’ romantic, but I think my brain just shorted out. You’re a little too cute for a guy like me."

"Just tried that new café downtown. Ordered coffee… tastes like they filtered it through someone’s laundry. You’d hate it. Wanna come mock it with me?"

"Not gonna lie, I miss that face of yours. So what’re we doin’ about it, huh?"

“Again missin’ that cute little smile of yours… maybe you could send me a pic to remind me?”

"Wanna help me scam the tourists today? I’ll split the loot with ya… maybe ;)”

"You wouldn’t believe what I caught Ford muttering in his sleep. Man’s like a walking encyclopedia, even when he’s unconscious."

“Got any plans later? Thought maybe we could… y’know… not have plans together."

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Ford Pines

✧ hehehehe he’s like an old-school emailer who’s just now getting the hang of messaging apps. texts in complete sentences, full punctuation, like he’s drafting a dissertation.

✧ He sends you whole paragraphs at random hours, talking about some discovery he’s made, like he’s reporting directly to NASA. you’re like, “Ford, it's just a weird-looking squirrel." and he's already typing another essay about its "possible interdimensional origins."

✧ once in a while, he’ll send you a message that says, “Are you awake?” at, like 3 am followed by a string of thoughtful yet completely bonkers hypotheses. you find it cute, though, his mind never stops, not even for a second.

✧ If he’s feeling bold, you might even get a “hypothetical” confession out of him: “Hypothetically, if one were to develop... strong emotional attachment to a certain person... how would one proceed?" You tease him about it the next day, and he gets flustered, “It was purely scientific curiosity."

✧ Ford isn’t big on emojis, but he likes the brain and alien ones, using them poetically. he’ll sign off texts with a single brain emoji, like it’s his version of a little goodbye wave.

✧ on really rare occasions, he’ll send a voice message. they’re always way too long, and it’s usually him whispering so he doesn’t wake Stan up. he goes on about cosmic rays or “gravity anomalies,” his voice dropping lower when he gets excited. you live for those moments

✧ and if he ever texts you a “good night,” you just know he’s been up thinking about it for hours, trying to figure out if it’s “appropriate.”

types of messages Ford texts:

“It’s been approximately 3 hours, 12 minutes, and 23 seconds since our last conversation… not that I’m counting or anything. Just… miss you."

sends a meme about science nerds “Us. But mostly me.”

“My hands ache from writing… though perhaps if it were writing about you, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Do you think about me too, or am I the only one utterly ruined by this… whatever this is?”

“I’ve been thinking about that book you lent me... 🤔 It’s honestly so much more interesting than I expected, thank you for recommending it."

"I don’t know how to work this... But I managed to send a meme! It’s not the worst thing I’ve done, I suppose?

“I did it. I fixed the telescope. Finally. Now we can actually look at the stars like we’ve talked about. :)"

"I hope you’re feeling okay today. I noticed you seemed a little stressed the other day. Don’t forget to take care of yourself. :) It’s important."

"If I could rearrange the periodic table, I’d put U and I together. :( Sorry, nerdy joke... :’D)”

ps - I CANT THEYRE SO CUTE BOTH I WANT TO SMASH THEM AGAINST THE WALL

lmao if someone wants, i can write some spicy types of chatting with them :)))

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #x reader #gravity falls #gravity falls smut #ford pines x reader #ford pines smut #stan pines smut #stan pines x reader #stan pines x oc #stan pines x you #ford pines x you #stanford pines x you #stanford pines x reader #gravity falls headcanons

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w4ndal0ver · 4 months ago

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The Art of Submission (1)

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: As a growing author, you're grappling with a frustrating writer's block while trying to craft your next lesbian erotic novel. With a lack of personal experience holding you back, inspiration seems just out of reach. But when a captivating neighbour steps in, offering unexpected support and a tantalizing invitation to explore the depths of desire, you find yourself on a journey that blurs the lines between reality and fiction, leading to a discovery that you definitely weren't expecting.

content warnings: lead up, talk of submission and sadomasochism, flirty touches and conversation.

note: This is the first chapter of a new story that I'm writing, any ideas or inspiration would be appreciated so if you have any ideas feel free to drop them in my requests, other than that buckle in! (I will try to get the next part out as soon as possible)

The Art of Submission - Chapter One

The soft glow of your laptop illuminated the cluttered desk, your cursor blinking impatiently on an empty document. You stare aimlessly at the screen, your fingers hovering above the keys waiting desperately for inspiration to strike. It had been hours since you sat down, hoping to squeeze out something, but your mind felt trapped and foggy, yet every time you wrote a sentence, you only sank deeper into it. The end result had started to feel completely out of reach.

Your last book had done okay. It wasn’t groundbreaking or a bestseller, but it was just enough to remind you that you could do this. You could write and publish your writing and make some level of a name for yourself in the world of lesbian erotica. Not that it was hard considering the low level media attention that your field rarely gained. The reviews had been mostly kind and the sales had trickled in steadily enough that you were managing to stay afloat, but nowhere near the level of success that you first imagined when you wrote your first novel.

Your apartment is a mess, the evidence of your creative block scattered pointlessly across the room. Empty coffee mugs crowded your desk, some still holding the cold remnants of yesterday's caffeine-fueled desperation. You’d also not left the apartment in days, time becoming a blur of restless nights and sluggish mornings, avoiding stepping outside. You found it was easier to stay here, trapped within the confines of your own thoughts, hoping something would come to you.

You lean back in your chair, groaning in frustration. You thought about getting up and attacking the massive pile of laundry that had sat abandoned in the corner for days, but you quickly pushed that aside, realising that there was no point until you at least got another page written. The cursor was blinking furiously at you and you felt yourself going slightly insane. You wanted to smash your head into the keyboard, but instead you imagined yourself doing it which brought a small smile to your lips.

It was at this moment that a sharp knock sounded at the door, you spin in your chair, frowning as you try to glance over at the entrance to the apartment. You wracked your brain trying to remember if you’d ordered something, but you couldn’t work it out and you knew you definitely wasn’t expecting company. You push yourself out of the chair with a deflated sigh, stretching your legs out as you go towards the door. The knock came again, firmer this time. Whoever it was, they weren’t planning on leaving.

Shuffling to the door, you don’t bother to smooth the wisps of your hair or fix the crumples in your shift, you just swung it open.

“Hey, I hope I’m not intruding, but I thought you could use a break.”

You blink in shock, momentarily stunned. Wanda stood in your doorway, her familiar yet distant neighbour from across the hall. You knew her as the woman who you occasionally exchange small talk with in the corridor, but there she was holding a bottle of wine like she’d been planning this all along. Her reddish-brown hair flowed over her shoulders, perfectly catching the dimming light of the room, the colours of her striped blouse almost too cheerful for the cluttered mess that she would soon walk into.

“I can basically hear your sighs from across the wall. Writer's block?” Wanda smiled, her green eyes warm but with a hint of darkness behind them, as if she knew something that you didn’t. She stepped further inside, her presence filling the small apartment yet you didn’t move to stop her, you didn’t feel the need to.

“Yeah no of course, come on in.” You say, brows furrowed in confusion. You hadn’t told anyone that you were trying to write again, come to think of it, you hadn’t even told her that you were a writer in the first place. Suddenly, your cheeks flushed pink in the realisation that she knew who you were.

Wanda set the bottle down on the counter, next to a half empty cup. The sound of it landing felt louder than it should, cutting through the quiet tension that was arising around the pair of them.

“You’ve been in here too long, I thought wine might be a good excuse to step away from the screen for a bit.” Wanda spoke with a caring tone beneath her soft voice, yet you found it unsettling in how she acted so naturally, offering up solutions to problems that you hadn’t even told her about.

Wanda always seemed to have a way of appearing when you least expected it, offering little moments of relief, like that time she helped carry groceries up the stairs. She was friendly, sure, but there was an edge to her friendliness. A knowing look, like she was always a step ahead of you, just waiting for the right moment to weave her way into your life. You didn’t know why, but you weren’t exactly complaining about it.

“You know, I’ve read some of your stuff.” There it was, you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. Your eyes dart to Wanda’s face, as if you were searching for any hint of a joke but instead you’re met with a calm, confident smile. That wasn’t what you were expecting. You’d always presumed that your audience was horny teenage girls, but Wanda was a mind-blowingly gorgeous woman, the exact opposite of who she was expecting. Besides that, your books lived in a cosy corner of the erotic fiction world, usually flying under the radar, definitely not the type of thing a neighbour casually brings up over wine.

“You have?” You ask, trying to sound casual but your voice comes out a little more strained than intended. You walk around the kitchen counter where Wanda had perched herself, your hands almost shaking from the unexpected social encounter. You reach into the cupboard, finding two wine glasses and placing them down between the two of you.

“Mhm.” Wanda leans against the counter, an almost playful spark in her eye, “You’re good. The way you write about submission, it’s real, raw. It’s incredible.”

You feel your cheeks warm up, unsure on how to respond. This was the first piece of praise you’d received from inside your own kitchen. You felt your pulse quicken, the fact that Wanda had read those words, the intimate fantasies that you’d put into your stories was making this situation way more intimate than deemed necessary.

You literally were stuck in a state of speechlessness, but Wanda was acting like she expected this. She lets you stand with your back against the counter opposite her, fiddling with the ends of your hair while she pulls up a stool. “Corkscrew?”

“Oh yeah, of course.” As you turned you wanted to slap yourself, why were no words coming out, you are absolutely embarrassing yourself, yet the redhead was still gleaming at you as if you were adding something to the interaction. You rummage through your drawers to find what you needed before handing it over to her.

“You know, when I first picked up one of your books I wasn’t sure what to expect.” She chuckled, tilting her head thoughtfully as she worked on opening up the bottle. “But then, well, I couldn’t put it down. Dangerous stuff.”

This time you manage a small laugh, still processing the idea of Wanda - the beautiful and put-together woman from across the hall - curled up reading the things you’d written. “I guess it’s not what most people expect from their neighbours.” Once again you’d tried so hard to sound casual that your voice was wavering in response.

“Well maybe we just don’t know our neighbours as well as we think we do.” With that, she pulled the cork from the bottle and filled up the two glasses, leaning in a little closer as a smile grew into a smirk.

You glance down at her as you reach for the glass, “I never really imagined someone like you reading my books you know.” You say sheepishly, taking a sip of the wine hoping to mask the nerves that were creeping up your spine.

Wanda raises an eyebrow, her smirk more prominent now. “Someone like me?”

You shrug, avoiding her gaze as you fiddle with the stem of your glass. “You know, my audience is usually different. Younger maybe.”

She chuckles softly at your response, “Are you saying I’m too old for erotic fiction?” Her tone is teasing, yet there's a glint in her eye that makes your palms sweat. Her comment about submission still lingers in the air, your cheeks continually growing warmer.

“No! No, I just-” You stammer, flustered by how casually she was controlling this conversation, “I didn’t think you’d be into, you know, that kind of thing.” Your voice is desperately pathetic and all you can do is smile shyly, trying to lighten the tension that was twisting in your chest.

Wanda takes a slow slip from her glass, her eyes never once leaving yours. “Don’t assume you know what I’m into,” she comments, voice soft but full of unspoken meaning. There's that look again, the one that says she knows more than she lets on. “But seriously, I thought your writing was refreshing. You don’t hold back and that's what makes it compelling.”

You feel the blush rise again, her praise catching you off guard. “Thanks, I guess.” You mumble, feeling a little more exposed than you’d like.

She waves a hand in the air, brushing off the awkwardness as she crosses her leg over the other. “I could tell you were stuck though,” She adds, swiftly changing the topic with a casual flick of her wrist. “So I figured I’d rescue you from yourself for a bit.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, “Rescue me?”

She nods, her eyes twinkling. “I’ve been hearing you pace around for days, It’s not hard to guess you’ve got yourself into a block.”

You can’t help but laugh, the conversation switching to something that was making you more comfortable to talk about. “Yeah, something like that. I’ve been staring at that god stupid screen for hours.”

Wanda shakes her head, mock disapproval on her face. “That’s no way to get inspired, sometimes you just need to step away.” She gestures to the wine and the dim, cosy lighting of the room. “This is your moment to relax.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight on your chest lighten ever so slightly. “I guess I have been driving myself crazy.” This would usually be an overstep in a first proper conversation, but the curious look behind Wanda’s eyes made you feel like she was making you say all of this, like she was dragging the vulnerability out of you.

Wanda smiles at your openness, a knowing, almost secretive smile as she lifts her glass to her lips again. “There's a reason they say inspiration strikes when you least expect it, maybe you just need to stop expecting it.”

The laughs were more relaxed now, “Oh, is that how it works?” You tease playfully, finally getting to a point where your nerves have stilled out. You could feel the tension in your body loosen just a little, but Wanda’s gaze still never faded.

She grins at your response, swirling the wine around in her glass. “Well sometimes it helps to just let go.” Her eyes sparkling as she watches you. “So what’s this book about anyway? What's got your pretty little head in a spin?”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to respond. There's no easy way to explain what you’re writing without dipping into something personal and intimate. But the way Wanda is watching you so intently, waiting, you decide to just go for it. You’re thinking maybe talking about it will help you sort out what’s been blocking you.

You clear your throat, and look down at the glass in your hands. It’s, uh well, it's another one in the same genre as the others.”

Wanda cocks her head at you, leaning in again. “Mhm, go on.” She pulls out the stool next to her, tapping on the top of it. You smile in the safeness of her space, walking round the counter and sitting down next to her.

“It’s about sadomasochism actually. I’m trying to explore that dynamic, the balance between pleasure and pain, trust and submission.” You feel your face flush, realising that there's no backing out now. This is supported by Wanda’s lips curling into an all too well knowing smile.

“So you’re digging into the darker side of submission? That’s bold.”

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah it’s more about the psychological aspect of it - how it feels to surrender completely to someone else but it's hard to get it to feel real rather than just something for someone to get off on.”

There's a brief pause, both of you deep in thought, but you can feel Wanda’s gaze like a weight on your skin. Her eyes darken, just for a moment, as she processes your words. “Sounds intense.” She murmurs, her voice dropping a little lower.

You let out a nervous laugh, trying to break the tension that you’d created. “Yeah well it’s not exactly an easy thing to write about. I want to portray it with respect.”

The redhead has now turned in her chair to face you completely head on, her head tilted as she rolls her lips together. “Maybe that’s because you’re overthinking it.” She pauses, then adds, almost as an afterthought, “Or maybe because you haven’t experienced it enough yourself.”

Your breath catches in your throat at her suggestion and you can’t hold her stare anymore, quickly glancing away with a small cough. “I- Well I’ve written about it plenty.”

She chuckles gently at your answer, her tone life but her words heavy with meaning. “It’s not quite the same thing though is it?” Wanda’s fingers gently brush against yours as she reaches for the wine bottle to refill her glass. The touch is light, fleeting, but she doesn’t pull her hand away immediately. Instead her fingers linger just long enough to make you wonder if it was an accident or something more deliberate.

You attempt to laugh it off, but your voice falters slightly. “I guess not.”

She meets your eyes again, her gaze almost daring, “You know, sometimes the best way to get through the writer's block is to immerse yourself in the subject matter.”

You swallow hard, praying that she didn’t hear the gulp that erupted in the back of your throat. The air between you had grown thicker than before. “Yeah I’ve heard that before.”

She smiles, leaning just a little closer, her arm brushing against yours as she picks up her glass. “So what’s tripping you up? The emotional stuff, or you know the physical details.”

The way she’s looking at you, so calm yet so confident. It’s like she’s pulling the words out of you without you even realising it. “Both. It’s hard to get the balance right, making the dynamic feel believable.”

Wanda nods thoughtfully, biting the tip of her finger as she indulges herself into your problem. “Have you thought about how you’re building the dynamic between them?” She shifts closer and in the process her knee scrapes past yours under the lip of the counter top. You’re hyper aware of every small movement now and it's impossible to be an accident. “Like what does submission look like to you? What does it feel like in the story?”

You blink, caught off guard by the directness of her question. “God, I don’t know, It's like surrender, like when you trust someone enough to give them complete control.” You pick up your glass again, taking a massive chug in order to keep your hands steady. “It’s like you know they won’t hurt you, even when you’re in your most vulnerable state.”

She nods understandingly, leaning ever so slightly closer to you. “Okay so what does that look like physically, how are you going to write that?”

Your pulse is going crazy now, you’re convinced that Wanda can hear your heartbeat quicken from just her words. “It’s about touch,” You say, your voice almost wobbling, “The way they respond to each other. The way a person can take control with just a look or a gesture.”

As you speak, Wanda’s lips turn up into a smirk, her gaze still unwavering. She’s so close to you now that the warmth of her body is radiating off of your skin. Her hand rests slightly above your knee, the touch intimate, sending a shockwave up the back of your spine. “Show me.”

Your breath hitches, heart racing as her fingers begin to trace a small circle against your leg. The motion is almost absentminded, yet it feels nothing but deliberate. She maintains her eye contact, her expression open but charged with a spark of something playful and dangerously enticing.

You freeze, caught in a whirlwind of sensations as the room feels smaller now, the air thick with unspoken tension. You know exactly what she’s suggesting without her having to say it.

You open your mouth to respond, but immediately close it, earning a small chuckle from the redhead. “If you can describe it so well, you shouldn’t be stuck here right.” The dangerousness in her tone makes the words evaporate and you become acutely aware of the heat radiating from her body, the way her thumb brushes softly against your skin, drawing you in deeper.

Wanda pulls back just slightly, but her hand lingers where it is, a gentle weight that feels both reassuring and electric. Her eyes lock back with yours, searching, waiting for your answer. “It’s okay.” She whispers, her voice soft yet commanding, as if she's completely in control in this delicate moment, “I’m just trying to help you get… unstuck.”

You can’t look away from her, caught in her captivating gaze. Her confidence is wrapping itself around you, urging you to step closer to the edge of your own desires. The space between you is charged, the possibilities suddenly hanging thick in the air as you contemplate what she could do next.

“Have you thought about drawing from your own experiences?” Wanda questions, still attempting to find a solution to a problem you couldn’t tell whether she was actively helping or not. “You know, sometimes personal stories can ignite that spark of inspiration.”

You swallow hard, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. “I wish I could.” You admit, your pulse is still racing from her touch that she has now released, yet her body still remains just as close. “I’ve never really had anything that intimate.”

A playful glint flickered within the green of her eyes, her gaze sharpening. “Really? Nothing? Not even a fleeting moment that made your heart race?” She tilts her head slightly, studying your face as if searching for unspoken truths buried inside of you.

You shake your head, feeling the embarrassment paint itself across your face. “Not like that, I mean I’ve had relationships, but nothing that’s ever made me feel like I was completely out of control, everythings always felt so safe.”

“Safe can be good, but isn’t there something thrilling about stepping outside of your comfort zone?” Her face leans closer to you once more, the feeling of her leg permanently resting against yours now.

You nod, the thought resonating with you, but you’re still hesitant. “I just don’t know how to write something so raw and believable if I haven’t experienced it myself.”

Her expression softens, shifting her weight slightly. Her gaze drops to your lips for the briefest moment before locking back onto your eyes. “Kiss me,” She whispers, the command both shocking and exhilarating.

Your heart races, a jolt of electricity coursing through you at her words. You can’t look away, caught in the depths of her stare. The space between you feels impossibly small, filled with a tension that pulses with possibility. “Just one kiss,” She adds, her voice a sultry invitation. “It might just unlock everything you’ve been trying to write.”

With her eyes gleaming into yours, the world around you fades into the background leaning only the two of you in this moment. You’re drawn to her, every instinct telling you to surrender to the rush of desire coursing through your veins. You lean in, heart racing as you connect your lips together. The kiss is soft at first, a small tentative exploration, but it quickly deepens, igniting something almost primal within you. Wanda’s hand slides from your knee to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if she wants to consume every part of you. You pull back, the softness of her lips still lingering against yours. You’re panting slightly, taking in the depths of what you just happened.

Wanda’s eyes gleam with satisfaction, her finger touching her lip and you can’t help but smile widely at her. “See.” She murmurs, her tone low and teasing. “Just a taste of what it feels like to let go.”

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

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buying spencer underwear with fun patterns on them like cats or rainbows or lightning bolts and he's just 😦😬 while ur just 💓💞💕💖💗

Spencer's standing groggily in his tighty whiteys when you reveal your early-morning shopping spree to him. You'd stopped for a drink at Starbucks, and enjoyed it while browsing through the nearest department store. They'd had a sale on boxers, and you'd taken full advantage, six pairs clutched in your hands while you grin devilishlt at Spencer.

"You bought me underwear?" He asks, seemingly mortified despite his sleepy state. You'd gone for an early morning dentist appointment before shopping, but you'd let Spencer enjoy a lazier morning. You'd practically tackled him where he'd been sleeping beneath the covers to show him your haul, and you're glad you didn't take him with you and ruin your chances of buying the boxers.

"You can keep these in your go-bag, just in case," You separate one of the packages from the other two, one pair of boxers dotted with rubber ducks on blue fabric, the other leopard print, "Then these can stay at my apartment," You toss another package onto the bed, donut-patterned and crab-adorned.

"But these," You hold up the last package, a 2-pair of boxers that are stamped with kiss marks in varying shades of pink, "These we're keeping here."

"I can't wear those," Spencer gushes bashfully, "I- thank you, angel, but I- those aren't- those are embarrassing."

Your face dims and you narrow your eyes at him ever-so-slightly, "Spencer Reid, I'm going to see you in kiss-print underwear if it's the last thing I do. You can either wear these," You hold up the package in your hand, "Or I can put on some lipstick and decorate those myself." You point at his white briefs, and he tenses in his spot.

His mind, body, and soul are screaming at him to pick the second option, but the persistent embarrassment he's felt since you unleashed your secret store of patterned underpants upon him wins out over them all.

"I'll wash them first," He mumbles, stepping forwards to take the package out of your hands and rush to the laundry room before you can see how pink his cheeks are.

But it's too late, and you snicker as he tries rushing out. You move quickly and land a light smack to his ass, and he yelps at it like you've struck him with a belt.

"Too bad! I wanted to kiss your cute butt, Spence."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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hometoursandotherstuff · 11 hours ago

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It's a been a while since I posted an Oast House for sale- An oast, oast house (or oasthouse), or hop kiln, is a building designed for kilning (drying) hops as part of the brewing process. And, look, the ovens (oasts) are intact! They have a very distinctive shape. The 4bd, 2ba, 2,444 sq ft home is located in Seven Oaks, Kent, UK and is priced at $1.608m approx. USD.

I love this one. Look at the round stone oasts and brick walls. I've seen some where they removed the kilns and what's the point of that?

Combination living/dining room is spacious.

Entrance to the kitchen that that's actually inside an oast.

Isn't this cool? Look at the wall.

And, this is the door to the other oast.

It's a flex room that can be an office, studio, whatever.

This is THE ultimate home for a beer lover. What a cute family room.

Nice, neat laundry room.

Rounded oast bedroom.

Bedroom #3 is spacious and has wainscoting.

This looks like the primary bedroom. Very pretty.

The bedrooms are all different shapes and they're lovely, aren't they?

Modern shower room.

Here's a nice big closet.

Large round bath.

It has a nice fenced yard in the back.

And, more beautiful grounds beyond the yard.

Isn't this pretty?

https://www.rightmove.co.uk/properties/157181963#/

#oast houses #oasthouse #historic homes UK #houses #unique homes UK #converted oasts #house tours #home tour

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vilhelios · 6 months ago

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-; SWEET MUSIC PLAYING IN THE DARK.

your poor, overworked, singer-songwriter boyfriend has not been having a good time with comeback season. thankfully, he has you, his muse, to kickstart his creative processes—sadly, that means he's going to write yet another love song about you in his group's newest album.

CW: k-pop idol/group au! fluff, fluff and more fluff! mentions of xavier, zayne, sylus, and caleb ; not beta read, small text, all lowercase letters.

“and this—” a kiss to the jaw. “—is part of—” another kiss, a shiver jolting down your spine at the feel of his lips against your pulse point. “—your creative process?”

it’s almost embarrassing how small your voice is now, loud in the silence of rafayel’s little studio. your hands clench and unclench around rafayel’s white shirt as he peppers kisses up and down your neck, not a single sliver of your exposed skin remaining unkissed. (after all, he’d say, he must drown in every part of you.)

“hey, every artist needs their muse.” rafayel shrugs, his hands at your waist grabbing at the warm flesh there, a teasing yet grounding touch. “i just need to be appreciating said muse to get the lyrics flowing in my head.”

before you can say much else, he nuzzles his face against the crook of your neck, and he practically melts into you as he breathes in your comforting, familiar scent. like fresh laundry, citrus, honey; he recognises it as the new perfume he bought for you just a few months ago (oh, god bless royalties and good album sales… he gets to spoil his little darling). a happy little sigh leaves him as he nuzzles against you again, shifting to let your bodies melt together in a happy little pile on his office chair—you’re just what he needs after a stressful day of brainstorming new lyrics and melodies with zayne and sylus, banging his head against the wall designing concept art for the new album’s cover, and being dragged around the dance studio (half-dead and limbless) by caleb and xavier.

“yeah, i know…” you sigh, and move your hands upward, fingers curling in his soft purple hair. luckily enough, he hasn’t had to dye his hair yet, what with linkon’s netizens finding his hair to be a particularly lovable part of his charm. (they’d be right; also up there are his big, beautiful eyes, and his impressive vocal range.) there’s a beat of silence, and then you speak up again, pressing a kiss to his hair just as he presses one in kind to your throat; “are the lyrics popping up in your head…?”

“hmm.” rafayel hums, almost like he’s thinking about it. “no.” he says, simple as that, and chuckles when you groan in exasperation. “all the ones i can think of wouldn’t fit the theme. and sy would actually kill me for making us sing another ballad that was clearly inspired by you.”

(they’ve released two albums and five eps, rounding up to about 50 songs in their discography… a good chunk of the love songs rafayel got his hands on in the production process felt like individual love letters written and sung just for you. It’s starting to reach a point where some of the smarter hunters—as their fandom is called—have deduced that at least one of the boys is in a relationship.)

“really?” you raise an eyebrow at him, hand moving to pinch his cheek, “well… if it’s anything like your usual songs about me… I can agree that it doesn’t match the theme.” you pull back a little—which elicits a whine from rafayel—to look at his current getup, which he’d been too lazy to change out of after the photobook photoshoot: a crisp white shirt, black pants, and leather chest harnesses. his hands, idly rubbing up and down your sides, were adorned in black leather gloves. all in all, an attractive outfit that’s trying to encapsulate a “bad boy”, mafia vibe. “i'll have to side with sy on this one.”

“even mafiosos can sing about how they’d love their darling in every universe, y’know.” rafayel hums, leaning back to rest his head properly on the chair, eyes trained on your face. his hands continue their idle smoothing down your sides, touch gentle and warm through the layers of fabric separating your skin. those beautiful indigo-pink eyes hold that heartbreaking softness in them, and it makes you want to gently run your thumbs under the dark circles under his eyes. (you never noticed, not until caleb pointed it out, but he only ever looks at you this way.)

rafayel’s next words are soft, without the characteristic teasing and filled with something akin to reverence: “what’s the harm in another song?” he whispers, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek, "it’s just another universe to profess my love to you in, my darling muse.”

a/n: ... i saw rafayel in a harness, blacked out, and thirty minutes later this was ready on my word document. uhm. so those cards huh... (i have. enough pulls to secure you. but please come home early rafayel). reupload bc I FORGOT HOW TO TUMBLR??? and forgot tags 😭

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace headcanons #love and deepspace fluff #rafayel x reader #rafayel headcanons #rafayel fluff #qi yu x reader #qi yu headcanons

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bluecollarmcandtf · 7 months ago

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Big Ugly Meat-Suit For Sale!

Hey Internet! I'm back again, selling yet a another one of meat-suits. I don't know if you can tell, but I'm not the biggest fan of this one.

A few weeks ago he was my landlord, Mr. Oscars. He was always showing up to raise my rent and just be a general pain in my ass. Trust me when I say he was an unpleasant person to be around: imagine the most overbearing lewd personality. His attitude was only superseded by the awful mold it was encased in! This guy wasn't just fat and balding; he smelled awful too. It was like he never bothered to shower or even swap out his beer-stained wifebeater. Every time this guy pulled up, I'd groan and cover my nose. That is, until the last time.

Converting someone into a meat-suit is fairly complex. I'm still just an amateur, but I've gotten it down to three simple steps.

Step 1 is drugging the target with a specific cocktail of ingredients. Mr. Oscars' rant about me quickly faded as his hefty body went limp and pounded against the floor. Step 2 was harder to accomplish. I needed to undress the man, and I almost puked while getting so intimate with his sticky skin and matted body hair. Finally, his body was naked, spread-eagle, with his gut pointing up to the ceiling. I could sit back and watch Step 3. He laid there unconscious for hours as my ritual took hold. Whatever inner structure that drove the former Mr. Oscars slowly seeped away.

Now, my landlord issues are gone, but I'm left with a rather unattractive bodysuit! I'll take anything over $50 for you to cart him away!

I've worn him a few times, mostly just to do the chores around my house. I find it kind of funny to see this former slumlord dusting my shelves and folding my laundry. It's even funnier to see his fat ass in a tiny little jock strap! I can tell he really neglected his body: I feel it in all the aching joints and short breathing when I put him on. However, the nice thing about having him as a suit is that I can throw my back out while scrubbing the floors, and it'll only hurt Mr. Oscars' old body: not mine! So, if you're looking for a kind of dumpy old meat-suit to walk around in, please reach out!

He's not the prettiest, but he is a great place for anyone to get started with body-hopping! If anything, it might be fun to hop in and get into character. The strong personalities sort of linger, so you'll totally feel inclined to be the lazy bum that Mr. Grimes was! It's kind of fun if you want a day of TV on the couch. All the calories will go into his gut; not yours!

Let me know if you're interested!

#bodysuit #meatsuit #meat puppets #body swap #gay ai art #male possession

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3liza · 9 months ago

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the other thing about duvets is i dont like that theyre a big pillowcase. this is more trouble than its worth imo. i think duvet covers should actually be two separate pieces, or one long piece in a taco format, and you just spread it out on the bed or floor, spread out the duvet on top, and THEN fasten the top of the duvet cover closed with either buttons or a concealed zipper along the edge. zipper texture unpleasantness could easily be tucked inside a padded border so it doesnt scratch you at night.

duvet covers were introduced to the usa in the 1960s as a part of the "scandinavian" interior decor movement during midcentury modern (they were brought from Sweden, so not actually scnadinavian, but americans dont know the difference and we dont care [edit: i am being informed sweden is actually considered part of scandinavia, i had been previously misinformed]), apparently from the Habitat store in London. i thought Biba was involved for some reason but I may be confusing a bit of documentary i watched with something else. in the documentary, the older lady they were interviewing who used to work at the department store that she claimed popularized the duvwet (either Habitat or Biba) talked about how the sales girls were trained to "demonstrate" the "convenience" of the duvet vs the traditional British method of quilt+sheets, and she remarked she got so good at it she could put the duvet in the cover in about 30 seconds. however when she tried to demonstrate for the presenter she got completely flummoxed by the damned thing. it was at that point i knew duvets were a mistake

anyway im finding some interesting gadgets for securing duvets rn, the one that looks least ugly is a thing that looks like a fabric-covered button that snaps into another button using a tack that pierces the duvet and cover layers. the other solutions also seem fine but are all ugly plastic doohickeys that would bother me on an aesthetic basis. the tack would probably damage the fabric but if you're not using your nice linens i bet it doesn't matter much, especially if the duvet cover is a rustic textile of some kind

the wikipedia article about the duvet is very interesting. i especially liked the part about how previous attempts to introduce it to england were failures

one of the other home bedding issues in the usa is that home washers and dryers and apartment washers and dryers are generally not big enough to effectively wash a down duvet or a quilt thats larger than about a Full, depending on thickness. this bothers me. feather down is especially irritating in this respect because it will get mildewy instantly if it isnt bone dry immediately after laundering. mentioning Sweden yet again, a friend showed me her shared laundry facilities in her Swedish apartment once and they DID have large, industrial machines that could easily take a duvet. she said this was typical. america continues to be difficult to live in for no good reason. its like literalyl everything you do here is 160% harder and more expensive than any other "comparable" country

#blog #duvets #long post

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overseepos · 4 days ago

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Laundry POS Software in Dubai | Simplify Your Laundry Business with Oversee POS

Introduction

Managing a laundry shop can be challenging, but the right technology makes it easier. Oversee POS provides an efficient laundry POS software in Dubai that helps businesses streamline operations, improve customer service, and track transactions smoothly. If you run a laundry shop, having a POS for laundry shop in Dubai can save time and boost productivity.

Why Use a Laundry Point of Sale System in Dubai

A laundry point of sale system in Dubai is designed to handle orders, manage inventory, and automate payments. With Oversee POS, you can:

Track customer orders easily

Manage billing and payments efficiently

Keep records of laundry services

Generate sales reports for better business insights

Using laundry POS software in Dubai helps laundry businesses reduce errors and increase efficiency. Oversee POS offers a simple and reliable system that fits the needs of all laundry shops.

Features of Oversee POS for Laundry Shops

If you own a POS for laundry shop in Dubai, you need features that simplify daily tasks. Oversee POS offers:

Order Management: Keep track of laundry items and delivery schedules.

Customer Database: Store customer details for faster service.

Billing and Payments: Accept multiple payment methods effortlessly.

Inventory Tracking: Monitor detergent and other supplies to avoid shortages.

Reports and Insights: View sales and customer activity to improve decision-making.

Benefits of Using Oversee POS

Choosing Oversee POS for your laundry business brings many benefits:

Faster Transactions: Reduce waiting times for customers.

Better Organization: Keep track of all orders and payments.

Secure and Reliable: Protect your data with secure cloud-based storage.

User-Friendly Interface: Easy for staff to learn and use.

With laundry point of sale system in Dubai, managing your laundry shop becomes hassle-free. Oversee POS ensures smooth operations and better customer experience.

Conclusion

A POS for laundry shop in Dubai is essential for running a successful business. Oversee POS provides the best laundry POS software in Dubai to help businesses improve efficiency, manage operations, and enhance customer satisfaction. If you are looking for a reliable laundry point of sale system in Dubai, Oversee POS is the right choice for your laundry shop.

#laundry pos software in dubai #pos for laundry shop in dubai #laundry point of sale system in dubai

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perfectlyoongi · 6 months ago

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ROOMMATE!JIMIN who every night, after dinner, watched an episode of a turkish soap opera with you. even when Jimin was busy, he always made sure to spend an hour with you after dinner. sometimes even without dinner, Jimin would sit with you on your sofa and attentively watch this turkish soap opera that you found by mere chance. it was a small tradition of yours that gave rise to several conversations of conspiracies and hunches that could last endless nights. for an hour every night, Jimin was by your side. even when the episode got repetitive or your internet didn’t allow for a trouble-free night, Jimin didn’t care — in a way, it was that time every night that really made Jimin grateful for being born in a time where you were with him. . “i managed to get home in time for the soap opera. what? did you think i wouldn’t come today? you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

ROOMMATE!JIMIN who makes housework a competition. taking care of the house was always a task that brought a lot of trouble; so, in an attempt to ward off laziness, Jimin suggested making this obligation something fun. each task had its points and, at the end of the week, the points were all added up to determine a winner — whoever lost always had to take care of doing the laundry. as silly as this idea was, the truth is that it worked. every week, you and Jimin would dive into some domestic chore, adding points to your score and always teasing the other when one of you had the advantage. it was something childish, you knew, but it was something fun and something that made you grateful to have someone as creative, as fun, as hardworking as Jimin as your roommate. “today i made dinner. that’s more.....five points. i’m already at fifteen. if you don’t hurry you’ll have to wash my smelly socks. work with that in mind.”

ROOMMATE!JIMIN who always eats what you cooked, even if it turned out badly. as a friendship began to grow between the two of you, you and Jimin agreed that you would take turns cooking. whether you were a good cook or were still learning the ropes of cooking, Jimin was always ready to try your food. sometimes a little burnt, often salty and sometimes a little bland, your food was eaten by Jimin without any complaints. always praising your hands that created that food, always looking for something positive to point out when the food was less good, Jimin was always the first to eat and the last to leave the table. he wanted to make sure you knew that this effort of yours was appreciated — whether it was good or bad. “it smells good in here. are you making soup? oh, a new recipe? i can’t wait to taste some of your creation.”

ROOMMATE!JIMIN who always tried to find board games for two people. although each of you lived in your respective room, the truth was that there were always shared moments in the living room or kitchen, moments that were filled with laughter and joy. and, in an attempt to extend that good mood, Jimin always stopped at the game store, looking among so much variety for a board game that could make your nights even more fun. puzzles, quiz games or something more classic like jenga, the truth is that there were several days when Jimin came home with a new game wanting to be played by you. “i went to the store and saw this game on sale. it’s an escape room but a board game version. what do you say? are you ready to realize how stupid we truly are?”

ROOMMATE!JIMIN who always asks your opinion about his outfit before leaving the house. whether it was to work, go out or just buy bread, Jimin couldn’t leave the house without having his outfit approved by you. always invading your room without deigning to knock, Jimin would always stay at the foot of your bed, turning around once or twice to show you all his clothes and then he would remain static, staring at you. with his thumbs raised on both hands and his eyes shining with anticipation, Jimin said nothing, just stood there, looking at you, waiting for a reaction and response from you. and it was with a smile on your lips and a fake irritated tone that you always gave your honest opinion. “you see, i have an important meeting today. what do you say? too formal? needs more color? you want to pick out other pants? come to my room and try to find some more decent socks. come.”

ROOMMATE!JIMIN who always asks you if you want to go with him whenever he leaves the house. Jimin enjoyed your company. inside the house, you were like a best friend to Jimin and all the good cheer you brought with you was intoxicating, always making Jimin want more from you. as such, when he left the house to buy a quick dinner or hang out with his friends, Jimin would always ask if you wanted to go with him, only stopping being annoying when you accepted his invitation. for Jimin, a day was only good in your company, whether it was five minutes to the store, or endless hours in bars and friends’ houses. with you there, Jimin was fine. with you there, Jimin was happy. “i’m going to the grocery store to buy more lettuce. do you want to come with me? it’s cooler outside than in here, come on. you need to get some fresh air. get out of your phone and come with me, come on.”

ROOMMATE!JIMIN who said he liked you when you were writing to the moon. it was common for the two of you to do various activities together — it was how you passed the time without getting sick of each other’s company. so, that night, when you and Jimin were writing on a plate everything you wanted to leave behind, Jimin decided to speak. he blamed the moon for his outburst, but the truth is that those words Jimin said to you had been eating him up inside for a long time. before you went to the park and broke the dishes in a symbolic act, Jimin held the sleeve of your coat when you were going to get the keys and just declared himself. “i think venting to the moon has made me more sentimental, but the truth is i have something to tell you. something i should have told you a long time ago. it’s… you know, i like you in a way that’s more intense than just a simple friendship from home. i don’t know if you understand me, but that’s it. the moon asked me to talk to you today and i couldn’t say no.”

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drdemonprince · 1 year ago

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When other people say that they do not have enough time to get something done, they (often, if they're quite healthy) mean they are taking into account the time it takes to do the laundry and arrange new pieces of furniture and cook dinner and meet up with friends to see a movie and run to the post office or the hair dresser and take the dog for walks and do the dishes and paint their nails and drive to the store and go to their cousin's wedding and go to the barbecue their friend is throwing on the weekend

they don't winnow their life down to just spending time at the computer, working from when they wake up until they cannot focus their eyes anymore, granola bars, coffee, and bottles of water all around them because of course they did not take time to have lunch or breakfast, only dragging themselves away from work when they are truly too exhausted to do any of it anymore, and then lacking the energy to do much of anything that remains of life but to eat a tiny bit more, sponge themselves off, and go to sleep.

i just saw a video of a fursuiter on their bed, legs kicked back, head propped on their hands, delightedly announcing that after many years of hard work they had finally finished their Master's degree. And some part of me, some sick withered part, thought really? you had time to do a Master's degree while also getting a fursuit done? and going to conventions, presumably? you had time in the day to research fursuit makers, have a sona designed and drawn by someone else (or to draw it yourself), to contact a maker to make a duck tape dummy of yourself, and to have a friend over to help you make it and to cut it off of you, to send it in the mail to the maker, to then get it and make videos? you had time to set up this beautiful bedroom that i see in your video, with a soft pink sham on the bed and LED lights behind your bookshelf and lamps and all kinds of stuffed toys? you had a life? you were out playing, and dancing, and pursuing your hobbies, and you did a master's degree?

because when i was working on my doctorate, there was nothing. three layers of foam on the floor with a fitted sheet over it. a folding card table from aldi that had cost $40 that my grandparents got me. no food in the fridge. no time to even get the internet installed, just stolen wi-fi when my laptop could pick it up. i woke up, got dressed, and slunk into the office. i sat alone in the dark working until my hunger made me furious and i could not write another word. and then i walked to the grocery store, got something to subsist on, went home, ate, kickboxing video, went to sleep. every day. with almost nothing breaking the routine.

and ive gotten better, so much better, but my brain still kind of works that way. i feel like i have to quit my job and stop being a writer if i want to have hobbies. to paint my bedroom. to marinate a meat for longer than fifteen minutes. to get a driver's license again. to take a trip. but i dont want to be like that any more. how do people know when to stop? i feel like i have to give everything my absolute all until there is nothing left or else i have done nothing. i feel that i would have to treat a hobby like a job to get it done. I feel that anything that takes more than two minutes is a huge waste of time i must feel guilty for. i am working on all these things. jesus i have been working on them for years at this point. but because i have been so successful at telling people to do less, i get pulled in. interview. workshop invitation. email. urgent in the subject line. call from my agent. meeting request from my boss. new book idea, better sell it now while my sales figures still look good. recording studio session. deadline. writing. can you talk about this. can you talk about that. tag. email. book idea. deadline. long heartfelt email. still so often i have to take my own damn advice.

and this is why i am getting a fursuit made!! and going to cons! and going to leather and latex events! and making socials that are separate for these things!! i am going to let myself be silly and soft and do frivolous things. i am so sick of what i do to myself, all the pursuit of seeming like a strong mature adult.

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snake-and-mouse · 2 months ago

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I love the juxtaposition of Viktor headcanons that he either highly overcompensates with being carefully groomed and perfectly dressed at all times, never showing any visible sign of his background of undercity poverty so that no one can ever dare denounce his character or standing as a deserved member of the academy based on his appearance, his curls are moisturized his waist is snatched in this vest and you don't know if his cane is shinier or the gleam in his eye when he calls you something extremely derogatory in three different languages and then pretends he was actually just rubber ducking a formula and wasn't actually talking to you at all .... or the other option where he just Doesn't Get It and to a point Doesn't Care Enough and certain parts of his Zaunite lifestyle will never change even if he has the money now to do so. He knows he'll never pass as uppercrust so why put on airs? No matter how much it pains Jayce, he WILL continue to use the same cheap brand of bar soap with his favourite scent to buy being "on sale" and then use that soap on every single part of his body, his hair, his laundry, his dishes, AND the work apron Jayce lent him that will never ever ever recover from either what Viktor got on it or his attempts to wash it

#jayvik #viktor arcane #arcane

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pedriscroquettes · 1 year ago

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The thought I can NEVER get out of my head for academic rivals is when both of them end up putting their brilliant minds together to solve one thing can we get that w academic rivals gavi plsplspls 😭

here you go anon bae <3

warnings. business class mentions & suggestive content 18+

a/n. literally went through the depths of pinterest to find pictures of gavi in this specific suit. spain needs to bring these suits back idk.

lightly tapping your pen against your lips you kept analyzing the last question on your presentation. while gavi flipped through his many notes trying to find any piece of information that could back up his claim. the two of you had never been paired up for a project before so the newfound territory was not helping either of you. in retrospect the question was quite simple all the two of you had to do was pick the best business offer of the three given to you.

“it’s the third option-” gavi starts

“what? no it’s not.” you scoff. “if our business chose that offer we’d lose more than twenty percent of our ownership.”

“okay, yeah but they’re giving us over a half a million euros plus additional funding for marketing purposes. it’s a really good deal if you think about it.” he stands up from your desk making his way towards your bed.

“not when our company has already made over five million in sales in just one year. we’re fine in the marketing department. yes, we need the money but we also shouldn’t be giving up such a high stake of our company. it’s too risky.” you try to reason as he stares up at you. the red tie from your school uniform making his brown eyes pop out.

“okay fine. which option do you find more appealing then?” he grabs his pen pointing it at you. “and it better not be the first option.”

“well obviously not. it’s clearly the second option. we’re only giving up ten percent of the company and they’re giving us over three-hundred thousand euros which is more than what we need to expand our warehouses. not to mention they’ve also helped thousands of other local companies become big names around the country. it’s the smart choice.” you type down your reasoning as you explain it.

“you know…” he leans over you carefully removing your laptop from your lap. “you get ten times more attractive when you do that.”

“do what?” you look up at him and notice his smirk.

“when you take your work all seriously like that. our company isn’t even real.” he teases you. “it’s so hot.”

you barely have time to react before his lips on yours your hands making their way towards his hair like second nature. his hands trails from your cheeks to your neck before making their way to your ass. you gasp into the kiss as he gropes your ass, the brunette using it as the perfect opportunity to leave a trail of kisses from your mouth to your neck.

“well one of us has to- fuck...” you can barely speak as he places kisses on your neck. “to be the smarter one out of the two.”

“oh, so now you’re the smarter one? i recall you calling me asking me for help-” he tries to tease you.

“you know now that i remember you left your stinky uniform here the other day. maybe you should go take care of that.” you push him off you. “i don’t want my room smelling like sweaty athlete.”

you walk him towards the laundry room dropping off some of your clothes as well. he watched intently as you place his clothes in the washer and carefully pour in some detergent. the act feeling too domestic. he wondered how you could possibly take care of him while you still had your own problems going on. you were too good for him.

“have you ever done it on top of the dryer?” he sneaks up on you.

“you’re disgusting pablo.” you shove him away.

“oh, come on.” he grins.

#chat i have become attached to academic gavi #academic rival!gavi #pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #pablo gavi smut #gavi smut #football imagine #football smut #gabri writes #gabri answers

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sakurapika · 1 year ago

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How TWST characters would react to getting money for New Year

Author's note: I originally wrote this around January 1st and intended to post it at that time. However, I never had the chance to finish, as I was too busy actually celebrating New Year's Day with my family. Luckily, the Lunar New Year has rolled around, so I have another chance to post this!

🧧🎊Some fun facts about this tradition: 🎍🎉

New Year's Day, or お正月 ("oshogatsu") is the biggest holiday of the year in Japan. Since most Japanese children aren't given their own allowances, getting an envelope of money from your relatives is a big deal. This tradition is called お年玉 ("otoshidama"). At this time of year, there also tends to be a lot of sales, hence the New Year Sale event in the game. Of course, if your parents are like mine, your money goes towards your education instead of toys, lol.

I grew up in an area with a large Chinese population, so sometimes I would also get red envelopes on Lunar New Year from family friends. However, the typical money envelopes in Japan, which are called "pochibukuro" are usually white. They tend to feature patterns with images such as daruma dolls, ribbons, origami, popular childrens' characters, or the yearly Zodiac animal.

Pochibukuro are usually given by adults to children to symbolize good luck and to thank them for their hard work over the past year. However, we're going to imagine a scenario in which you give the TWST boys money for fun.

If you also have special traditions on January 1st or Lunar New Year, whether in Japan, China, Vietnam, or another country, please let me know what they are! Also, if you'd like to buy some pochibukuro of your own, you can find them at shops such as Daiso or Kinokuniya.

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts: He would be surprised by the idea of receiving such a gift, and would thank you profusely. He would likely save the money for something in the future like medical school expenses or textbooks, but he would keep the envelope as a bookmark to remember your kindness.

*I like to headcanon that Riddle is of Japanese descent on one side of his family. At some point, maybe one of his relatives gave him something for New Year's, but his mother stored it away for "safekeeping." At NRC, when he meets you, he has a chance to hold onto his own money. Maybe he'd even indulge just a little, and buy himself a strawberry tart or two.

Ace Trappola: He'll shamelessly spend it all that day, but at least he'd buy something high-quality and useful, like some shoes or a new basketball.

Deuce Spade: Like in Chapter 6, Deuce would likely say something about how he'd like to give the money to his mother. "But this is for you," you would say. "Spend it on something you like." In that case, he'd buy a snack at the mall or a new shirt. He'd also buy you something small in exchange.

Trey Clover: It's hard to imagine what Trey would spend his money on...maybe a new hat, a fancy kitchen set, or a motorized toothbrush. He'd probably ask about where to get money envelopes so that he could get some for his younger siblings.

Cater Diamond: He would probably hug you if you gave him such a gift. I imagine that he has been looking forward to all the sales on New Year's Day and has been looking forward to buying trendy new clothes and accessories. Maybe he'd even bring you along.

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar: Why are you giving money to a prince?! Leona has no need for this little herbivore tradition, but he'd at least thank you. He'd also misplace the envelope before he could spend it, but he probably wouldn't be bothered.

Ruggie Bucchi: Luckily, Ruggie would find Leona's missing otoshidama. Finder's keepers? There's about a million things Ruggie would like to buy, but he'd probably end up using the money for household things like laundry detergent and toilet paper. Leona would most likely keep his, in addition to the envelope that you give him.

Jack Howl: Jack may be surprised to get such a gift and have a hard time accepting it from you until he understands that it is tradition. Like Ace, he would make sure to spend it on something practical, such as workout clothes, but he'd also buy a few cacti--and maybe give you one as well.

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto: A tradition...involving free money? Say no more. Like Jack, Azul would say he has a hard time accepting such a gift, but it is a clear façade. Deep down, he'd be delighted that you thought of him. He'd likely save the money for the Mostro Lounge's expenses, or he would treat himself to a new book or fancy skincare. He'd also try to take Floyd's and hold onto it before he spends it recklessly. Maybe he'd feel as if he'd owe you something as well, which is a feeling he hates.

Jade Leech: Jade would act like Azul, except he is better at hiding his delight. He might even scare you a little while asking whether he owes you money in return! As for what he spends it on...who knows? (My guess is a tea set, a fancy knife set for threatening people the Mostro Lounge, or some new hiking gear).

Floyd Leech: Giving Floyd money is like freeing every animal from the zoo and unleashing them at the mall. He'd most likely ransack the shoe stores first, but he'd also wreak havoc at the arcades and toy stores.

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim: Again, why are you giving the richest people at NRC money?! Kalim would be intrigued and would want to adopt this tradition, giving his money to everyone, young and old. He’d probably be like Trey and try to get some envelopes for his siblings, too. Honestly, though, you’re better off giving the money to Jamil, because like Leona, Kalim is definitely going to misplace that envelope.

Jamil Viper: Hmmm, this one is difficult. He’d probably take it with hesitation, asking whether you’re trying to bribe him or if there’s something you’re asking from him. Once he realizes that you’re being sincere and that the money is actually for him, he’d likely save it in a secret bank account. I imagine that he has some money saved for if ever he has a chance to leave the Asim family, even if just temporarily. After all, money is power, and anything he can get would make a difference. Don’t worry Jamil—the world awaits you!

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit: Vil is a smart man—he has likely heard of these traditions before after working with actors from different countries and watching movies. Although he may be a bit baffled at being on the recieving end of an otoshidama, he’d instantly reciprocate by giving you traditional deserts, like a box of mochi wrapped in tasteful wrapping paper.

Rook Hunt: You wouldn’t even have a chance to speak, let alone actually show him what you have. The (one-sided) conversation would go something like this: “Trickster, arrête! What is that in your pocket, hmm? An envelope with my name on it? Judging by the weight, you’ve given me about one thousand madol* for New Year. C’est bon, merci! Alas, I know not what to do with it. I would purchase something beautiful to look at all year, but true beauty is something you behold, free in nature. I know! The true beauty is your thoughtfulness! Merci beaucoup!”

*I assumed that madol/thaumarks are equivalent to Japanese yen, so that’s about 1,000円, or roughly $10 USD. That's really not a lot of money, but hey, you're just a college student, and you have 22 classmates. I think the conversion rate depends on the translation, though, as the ENG version of the event implies that the currency is closer to USD/GBP/Euro instead.

Epel Felmier: Epel is the type of kid who has been raised around older folks, and not a lot of kids his own age. I like to imagine that he would visit his neighbor's farms and help them with chores, and they'd give him pocket money in exchange. If you gave him a money envelope, he would be reminded of his hometown and probably send some of the money to his grandmother (he's a good kid). Otherwise, I think the boy would benefit from getting some new athletic wear.

Ignihyde

Idia and Ortho Shroud: Like Vil, Idia has probably heard of this tradition from watching anime/donghua or reading about it somewhere, but he'd still be caught off-guard by receiving one, feeling every emotion from flustered to excited. While Idia would go on a full-speed rant about how he wants to spend his money on this and that, Ortho would thank you politely. The two brothers are very close, so I'd imagine that they'd combine their money to buy something that they would use together, like a two-player game, manga from a series that they both like, or merchandise of characters from their favorite gacha game.

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia: Before giving him a money envelope, you greet Malleus with a "Happy Year of the Dragon!" Malleus proceeds to lecture you about the difference between dragons and longs (or 龍/"ryuu" in Japanese) again, but in a lighthearted way. Like Riddle, he is not used to receiving gifts. However, he is a very sentimental person, and would probably keep the pochibukuro in a special place, just to admire the shiny golden long on the envelope every once in a while. He wouldn't even realize that there's money inside until Lilia tells him about it.

*Yet another side note: I am once again begging the TWST developers to make a special Year of the Dragon card for Malleus (the next time they'll have this opportunity is in twelve years!!!). I know he'll eventually get a New Year's Sale card, and already had Qing Dynasty-style clothing for the Halloween event, but I really, really want to see him wearing hanfu.

Sebek Zigvolt: Sebek was secretly waiting for this day because he also knows that it is the Year of the Dragon, and is leaping at the chance to celebrate his liege again. In fact, I'm sure he has already gone all-out in decking the Diasomnia dorm in dragon/long/ryuu-themed decorations. He would still be genuinely excited to receive money envelopes, and tell you about how Lilia used to give them to him and Silver as children. He would then remark that although you're a human, you clearly know your stuff, and thus have the honor of being invited to the party he is throwing.

Silver (Vanrouge): Of course, Silver was dragged into planning the party with Sebek, but he's enjoying it as well. He'd accept your money envelope graciously and tell you about how it reminds him of his father doing the same thing when he and Sebek were children, as well as other stories he heard about his father's travels in The East. I like to imagine that you'd talk for a while with him while standing in the kitchen, preparing kagami mochi and soba, and desperately trying to keep Lilia out of the kitchen.

Lilia Vanrouge: Lilia has always been on the giving end and never on the receiving end of the money envelopes--after all, he is...quite elderly, and people usually give money envelopes to those younger than them. But who knows? I gave my grandmother a money envelope once, and it was fun. Knowing Lilia, he'd probably tease you, saying, "Yes, indeed, I am a very youthful boy!" Of course, Grandpa Lilia won't let you leave empty-handed. He'll give you your very own overfilled pochibukuro too, and won't let you go until you've had some of his special, homemade, traditional New Year's cooking! (Good luck.)

Do you have more ideas about how the cast of TWST would celebrate oshogatsu or the Lunar New Year? Please let me know!

To everyone reading this, happy New Year, and happy Year of the Dragon!

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