#oli pastel

[paulcamell713]

HELLBOY - Tribute by PaulCamell713

#arte#art#artwork#pencilart#pasteloleoso#ilustracao#pintura#conceitoarte#belasartes#expressao#arteabstrata#conceitoaberto#desenho#artesanato#artetradicional#cultura#belfordroxo#rj#brasil#giz#pastel#oli pastel

HELLBOY - Tribute by PaulCamell713

[n0reflectionz]

January is the colour of her skin ‧˚｡°

[bringouturdeath]

[televised-exorcism]

Take me thrifting daddy buy me a disconcerting porcelain doll, an obnoxious prom dress from the '80s and a reproduction french provincial hutch for my human bone collection pretty please I'll be so good I promise

[yohancharmani]

Hola, este es mi primer post, espero que les guste 🫶🏼. Esta es mi primera primera pintura, se nota, ¿verdad? Me falló la cinta pero eso no me detuvo, ahora llevo una que otra pero es poco a poco, no? Les estaré actualizando como lo voy haciendo cada... un mes supongo jaja o tal vez cada semana

[ollisykes]

BRING ME THE HORIZON : HAPPY SONG

[corroded-hellfire]

Continuing on with my baby fever I came across videos of parents "laying" (softly hovering) on their babies lap to see their reaction. Some babies are gentle with one parent and push of the other parent. But I wanna see how Eliza would react to the entire Munson family doing this. Thank you!

Baby fever you say? 👀 Step into my office…

Honestly, looking up reference videos for this fic was the most heart melting thing ever and I thank you for bringing that into my life. I hope I have done this justice for you!

Words: 3.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Ugh,” Luke groans as he flops down on the floor of Eliza’s nursery. The Minnie Mouse shirt and pair of toddler jeans he’s holding smack him in the face as his dramatics bring him down.

Eliza sits on her miniature butterfly couch and watches her brother, face stoic as the two-year-old is used to the theatrics he’s inherited from their father. 

“What is taking so long?” Ryan strolls into the room and leans against the door jamb. He crosses his arms over his chest and arches an eyebrow as he clocks his brother on the ground. 

Flinging the articles of clothing behind him, Luke huffs and turns his head to meet Ryan’s questioning look.

“Every outfit I pick out she doesn’t like!”

Heaving a loud sigh, Ryan saunters over to the closet tucked into the corner of the pink room. Curious as to what he’s doing, Eliza cranes her neck in an attempt to see past her oldest brother. Try as she might though, she doesn’t have x-ray vision and has to wait for Ryan to turn around to see the black and white striped dress and pastel green sweater.

“Eh?” Ryan raises his eyebrows as he holds the items out towards the toddler.

Keeping her chin high, little Eliza looks over the proposed outfit before nodding her affirmation once. 

“What?” Luke shouts as he bolts upright. “The Minnie Mouse shirt is way better!”

Ryan throws a smirk over his shoulder at his younger brother as he helps Eliza get changed into the winning look of the day. 

“She must love me more.”

“Uh, no,” Eliza hums as her head pops free from the confines of the dress. “Better clothes.”

Luke cackles with laughter, arms crossing against his stomach as he falls on his back once more.

“Oh, that’s too good! Please, we all know I’m her favorite,” Luke says.  

At only two-years-old Eliza is already used to her brothers competing in almost every aspect of life. She rolls her doe brown eyes and allows Ryan to help her into the green sweater before leaving the two boys alone in her room. 

“I seem to recall us having this argument before and Grandpa somehow coming out the winner,” Ryan says, following the little girl’s lead and heading towards the door. 

“Well,” Luke says, stretching out the word as he scrambles to push himself up into a standing position, “then this time we don’t allow him to be part of our bet.”

The older Munson brother shakes his head in amusement as he walks out into the hall and to the right, towards the rest of the house. Luke is right behind him though, practically nipping at his heels as he waits for some kind of response. 

“What bet?” Ryan asks, stepping into the kitchen.

“Yeah, what bet?” Eddie echoes, eyeing his two sons over his “#1 Dad” coffee mug where he leans against the counter. 

“Seeing who Eliza’s favorite is. And not Grandpa this time,” Luke informs his dad as he slides into a chair at the table. 

“I believe that would be me,” you say with a proud smirk, traipsing in from the living room with an empty sippy cup. “I just turned on Rolie Polie Olie for her.” 

“No one can compete with the Rol,” Eddie jokes, giving you a playful wink and a smile. 

“She definitely loves that show more than she loves any of us,” Ryan says. He yanks the refrigerator door open and stares inside as if something new is magically going to appear before his eyes. 

“I bet I could interrupt it and she’d be okay with it,” your husband says. “And will you either grab something out of the fridge or close the damn door?”

“So, you’re saying you’re the favorite, Dad?” Luke asks, eyebrows disappearing into the curls that are getting too long for his liking. 

“Isn’t that old news?” Eddie asks with a smirk as he walks over to grab Luke’s box of Lucky Charms. 

“Everything about you is old,” Ryan says.

The joke has your hand slipping, causing the apple juice you were refilling Eliza’s sippy cup with to spill all over the counter. Avoiding Eddie’s eyes, you try to hide your snort of laughter as you grab a towel to mop up the mess. Once the sippy cup is successfully filled up, you turn back towards the living room—Eddie’s eyes still firmly burning your back—and go to give your daughter her drink. 

“Didn’t we already do this? I feel like we played this game before,” you say. “Eliza picked Wayne over all of us.”

Eddie shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee. “No beating the old man. The actual old man.” Eddie narrows his eyes at Ryan, who just chuckles in return. 

“No,” Luke says. He shakes his head as he lets the marshmallow cereal fall into his bowl. “We have to know who her favorite in the house is.” 

“Any ideas?” Ryan asks, plopping down in the seat across the table from his little brother. 

“Hmm,” Luke hums as he chews on a bite of his breakfast. “I’ll brainstorm at school today.”

In the end, it’s you who comes up with the idea that sets the competition into motion. Once Eddie heads out to work and the boys to school, you realize how much you’re able to get done around the house because Eliza is thoroughly hypnotized by her favorite show. It’s not until the hour of Rolie Polie Olie is done that Eliza is running around the house, wanting to play with every toy under the roof. 

After dinner that night, and once Eliza is in bed, you bring your idea up to the boys.

“So, like, we take turns? One person a day?” Luke asks.

You nod in confirmation.

“Right. Because if we all did it one after the other on the same day, she’d get cranky and it wouldn’t be fair for whoever goes last.”

“What, we like, pick straws?” Ryan asks. “Then someone goes Tuesday, then Wednesday...?”

“I’m game,” Eddie says. He lifts one flannel-clad arm and rests it behind you on the couch, giving you the perfect opportunity to snuggle into his side. 

“So…” Luke muses as he walks over to the couch and takes a seat next to you, on the opposite side of Eddie. “We just put our heads in her lap like this?” The younger Munson boy demonstrates by laying his curly head on your thighs, staring up at you with wide blue eyes. 

“Exactly,” you say, reaching down to boop the tip of his nose. “See if she cuddles you or pushes you off. And then we’ll see who she has the best reaction to.”

“I like it,” Ryan says.

“Me too,” Luke agrees. “Ryan, go get straws. Cut one short!”

With an irritated eye roll, Ryan does as his little brother says, feet shuffling along the carpet as he goes. 

The plan springs into action the next day. According to the laws of the straws, Ryan was up first. Followed by Luke, you, and then Eddie rounds it out. 

Tuesday morning starts off like every other weekday, everyone running through their routines to get ready for whatever lies ahead for them that day. Once Eliza is dressed in her purple long sleeve shirt, pink overalls, and her morning apple juice is finished, it’s time for the games to begin. 

You, Eddie, and Luke watch as inconspicuously as you can from the kitchen entryway as Ryan approaches the couch. Your daughter’s eyes never leave the little yellow robots, even as her oldest brother kneels on the dusty-brown cushion next to her and keeps scooting closer. 

Eliza’s leaning back, her legs out straight in front of her, and Ryan takes advantage of the open space to lay his head right down on her little knees. The two-year-old just seems confused at first. She looks down at Ryan, back up to Rolie, down to Ryan, up to Rolie, then back down to Ryan again. After staring down at her big brother for a little while, Eliza reaches for his head and begins to card her tiny fingers through his golden-brown locks. Her hands continue the movements even as she turns her attention back to the television screen. Ryan can’t help but smile; it actually feels really nice. She keeps up the motions until there’s a commercial. Then Ryan rolls on his back to look up at her and she giggles down at him in return, not sure what he’s doing, but happy to have his attention. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Ryan asks.

Instead of answering verbally, Eliza wraps her arms around her big brother’s neck and settles back against the cushions. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ryan says with a chuckle, before adding under his breath, “and as a win.”

Wednesday, it’s Luke’s turn. Once Eliza’s got her favorite show on and a cup of apple juice in her, he makes his move. It’s clear from the moment Luke’s head hits her lap that Eliza is in a feistier mood today. Whether she woke up like that or Luke brings it out of her is anyone’s guess. 

“Ow,” Luke groans as two small hands beat down on the side of his head as if it’s a drum. The boy winces, face scrunching up, but as you watch him alongside Eddie and Ryan from around the corner, you can tell Luke is trying to stick it out and see if he can somehow salvage a win. There’s a brief glimmer of hope when Eliza stops percussing on her brother’s head. However, it’s short-lived. 

Short, stubby fingers make their way up to Luke’s curls and the youngest Munson boy breathes a sigh of relief, seeing as how gentle the toddler was with Ryan’s hair the day before. The problem, they discover, is that since Luke’s curls are far tighter than his older brother’s, Eliza’s fingers quickly get caught in them. 

“Oh, please no,” Luke murmurs, but it’s too late.

Eliza tries to yank her hands free, frustrated that her fingers can’t run smoothly through his locks like she did for their eldest sibling. She pulls Luke’s hair while letting out her own whine.

“Ouch! Why are you whining? I’m the one who’s about to be bald!”

Next to you, Eddie lets out a snort of laughter. 

“Bald?” Eddie says. “Wayne? That you?”

Giving a roll of your eyes, you gently swat at his stomach. Luke also hears his dad’s remark and gives him a glare from the couch as he tries to wrestle himself free from the toddler’s grip. 

Finally, Eliza is able to slip her hands free from the rat’s nest that’s become of Luke’s hair—thanks to her. She’s thoroughly annoyed now and grumbles a few low groans, giving up on words completely. If she were old enough to know swear words, she’d definitely be using those.

Luke breathes a sigh of relief and raises a hand to rub at his sore scalp. Before he can make contact though, both of Eliza’s hands splay flat on the back of his skull and she gives a hard shove. The implication is clear: get off my lap.

Not willing to risk any more of her tiny wrath, Luke rolls off her and off the couch altogether. He lands with a thud on the carpet and gets the chance to rub at his head at last. His eyes narrow as he looks up at Eliza, who is no longer paying him any mind. She’s immersed in Rolie Polie Olie once again, the rest of the world forgotten. 

Your youngest son pushes himself to his feet with a huff. He shuffles back towards the kitchen, back towards the rest of you.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” he mumbles as he passes, heading straight for the fridge. 

To Eddie and Ryan’s credit, they do both stay silent as the three of you turn to watch Luke yank a Yoo-Hoo out of the refrigerator and pop the top. He chugs down half the bottle before wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand. 

“Ugh,” Luke says with a sigh as he heads toward the hallway. “It’s not even 8 am yet.”

With both of the boys’ attempts out of the way, you’re up. You debate going in straight for the lap when you give her the purple sippy cup of apple juice, but something tells you that you’d end up with a wet and sticky face though. Instead, you wait until most of the beverage is gone and she’s let the bottle roll out of her hand onto the cushion next to her. 

“Good luck, babe,” Eddie says, giving your ass a pat before you walk out into the living room. 

As soon as your knee touches the couch, the television show your daughter is so transfixed on goes to commercial. She turns her head to look at you, large brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

You freeze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. It’s odd to be struck still and silent by your two-year-old, but here you are. Rolie Polie Olie being on a commercial break could either make or break this for you. 

“Mama!” Eliza chirps.

A breath loses from your chest, and you give her a grin as you move to lay your head on her little legs. The moment your body makes contact with hers, Eliza’s arms encircle you as much as they possibly can, and she leans down to rest her head against yours. Her cheek smooshes against yours, her chin bumping into the corner of your eye. 

Warmth floods through you, your heart growing three sizes as she lays all her body weight against yours.

“Hold on,” you hear Luke mutter from the kitchen, “wait to see what happens when the show comes back.”

There are only about forty-five seconds until just that happens. 

Eliza’s skin brushes against your cheek as she adjusts her head to get a better view of the television, but otherwise stays where she is. In fact, it feels as if she cuddles into you even further as she settles in to watch her favorite show. 

“Oh, come on,” you hear Luke complain. The twelve-year-old is clearly not happy that he is losing this competition so far. It’s not as if Eliza could be bribed, though. Luckily, toddlers haven’t been corrupted by life yet. 

Luke walks into the room and stands at the side of the couch, hands resting on his hips. 

“Comfy, are we?” he asks. 

It’s evident your daughter is quite cozy as she doesn’t look up at her brother or move for the rest of the episode. 

“All right,” Eddie says, rubbing his hands together. “Saved the best for last.”

“Debatable,” Ryan says as he chomps on a granola bar. 

Your husband flicks Ryan’s black-rimmed glasses so they slide down his nose. With a huff that sounds far more sophisticated than one coming from a fourteen-year-old, your son shakes it off. 

“Ready?” you ask, slipping your arms around Eddie’s waist. 

“Always up for snuggles with my girls.” 

A wet, smacking kiss is placed on your cheek, and you let out a soft giggle.

“Gross,” Luke groans.

“I know you are, but what am I?” Eddie taunts, proving he’s as mature as his adolescent sons. 

You let your arms drop from around his middle and you cup Eddie’s cheeks. 

“Go get her,” you say.

He pecks your lips before heading out into the living room.

Eliza is as entranced as always in her cartoon and Eddie takes advantage of that by silently sidling up to her. She doesn’t even realize he’s there until the couch dips next to her and her empty sippy cup rolls until it meets Eddie’s jean-clad knee.  

He moves the cup aside and slowly lowers himself until he’s able to rest his head in his daughter’s lap. 

At first, it’s as if Eliza doesn’t even notice. She’s watching her show, letting her dad just lay down on her. But after a few seconds, her stare breaks from the television and her brown eyes meet matching larger ones. Her head tilts to the side, inspecting him, and her curls bob with the motion. Eddie smiles up at her and a slow grin grows on her face in return. 

One of Eliza’s tiny hands splays across Eddie’s forehead, some of his bangs getting pushed to the side, and some getting caught under her warm palm. Her other hand lands on his chin, delicate fingers curving around his jaw and rubbing against some stubble. 

Eliza stays like that, looking down at her father, not moving. It takes everything in Eddie not to laugh as he just stares back at the inquisitive little face that reminds him so much of you. 

Quickly, Eliza leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie’s nose. Gone is his urge to laugh, replaced by the most adoring grin as he revels in her affection. He’s about to thank her for the kiss when she leans in to do it again. This time, however, her mouth is open, and she ends up enveloping his nose in her small mouth.

There’s no way Eddie can hold in his laughter this time as he feels her drool dribble up his nose onto his face. The giddiness is infectious because Eliza pulls her mouth off only to begin laughing alongside of him. 

“You might just be as weird as I am,” he tells her, which makes her laugh even harder. 

That night at dinner, the results are discussed.

“So, who wins?” Ryan asks as he spears some green beans with his fork.

“Not me,” Luke grumbles, slouching down in his chair. 

“Oh, relax,” Eddie says, reaching over and clapping the younger boy on the shoulder. “It’s not like this was scored or anything.”

Luke drops his fork onto the plate with a clang and raises his hands up in front of him.

“My hair ruined it for me! That’s not fair!”

“You know, she can talk now,” you point out, looking at Eliza happily eating in her highchair next to you.

“Good point,” Ryan says. He clears his throat and leans across the table towards her. “Eliza, which of us is your favorite?”

The little girl pops a grape in her mouth and chews, looking like she’s thoughtfully thinking over the question.

“Me,” she finally says.

“No,” Luke says with a shake of his head. “Which of us?” He emphasizes his point by gesturing to the four of you around the table. 

Eliza nods her head once, with finality. “Me.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and shrugs his shoulders.

“Her Majesty has spoken.”

“I don’t think it counts,” Luke laments, looking back down to his plate.

“Yeah, her vote doesn’t count,” Ryan agrees.

You and Eddie share a look of amusement across the table. With these three around, life will never be boring.

[sturns-mermaid]

INTRODUCING...

LUCKY READER X DINO CHRIS 🦕🍀

their masterlist

note; AHHH I'M EXCITED!!

note #2; head cannons coming soon! friends to lovers trope (possibly angst cause I'm feeling evil 😈)

_

C L O V E R 🍀

four leaf clovers, the hungry caterpillar, funky socks, green, bugs obsessed, nature lover, cute hair pins, neurodivergent traits, adrianne lenker, good luck bear, mabel pines core, oli pastels, sour over sweet, granny smith apples, nostalgia, braces

C H R I S 🦕

softie, dinosaur enthusiast, childish, water color paints, dum dums, sweet over sour, funshine bear, adhd, waffles, dino memes, doodles, puzzles, furbys, strawberries, accident prone, sonder, the backseat lovers, dino nuggets

-

more!

spotfiy

pinterest

letterboxd

socials

dividers by; @thecutestgrotto

-

tags; @immaqulate @endereies @pasteldreams @hearts4werka @chrisbunnys @itsmaddielouis @oliviasthatgirl @scorpio1205 @submattenthusiast @mattsplaything @brianna-grace12 @courta13 @anyaa2s @sturnshood @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @heartsonlyforchris

[blueishspace]

Multiverse Library: Mumbo, Scar and Grian.

The trio:

As Fluff, Hurt/comfort and Angst respectively they are commonly put together as the main tone gods while Martyn (Humour) and Oli (Crack) are kept more in the backround.

Can work alone and often do but excel when together to make angst with a happy ending.

Unlike other multiverse library deities they don't have distinct library sections are their domains are much bigger.

The most powerful when working on character driven universes but have to work extra for more worldbuilding based stories.

All have a dark form when working on darker universes, doesn't change their personality, just their form.

Mumbo, deity of Fluff and chain of hearts.

Sceptre cointains pure uncontaminated love and color depends on the type... Sometimes it cracks and when that happens bad stuff soon follows.

Smells of sugar and spice cause he's everything nice.

Actually doesn't really like pink or cream but when he gets a new outfit it starts to fade into pastels so he has just given up changing it.

Cape is actually a waterfall of Steven Universe style pink healing water.

In his Dark Fluff form usually works on possessive/obsessive fluff which is where the chain of hearts title comes from.

Grian, deity of Angst and Sadist Watcher.

Ever seen your blorbo put trough the horrors? Perhaps tortured either mentally or phisically? That's him!

Behind the incredible amount of Grian angst.

Cloak doesn't do anything, Grian just thinks it looks cool and mysterious. Cloak is also made of nightmares so it is not a good idea for a mortal to touch him.

He and Oli share one thing and that is a love of misunderstandings and mistakes born from lack of knowledge.

Fan of Tragic characters who'se downfall is their faul but also tragic characters who couldn't have done anything to prevent it...just likes tragic characters I guess.

Average Fanfiction writer if they were a god with control over multiple universes.

Doesn't change too much in his dark form, just increases the severity of his domain. He watches without helping, that's where his secondary title comes from.

Scar, deity of Hurt/Confort and Toxic Rose.

The oldest and arguably the most powerful of the three as the embodyiment of a much more vast domain. Also the goofiest of the three.

Mood shifts aren't uncommon and neither are long periods of either high energy or low energy.

After Secret Life happened in the main timeline he adopted his mortal counterpart's outfit and has stuck with it since.

When working with Oli often ends up creating "crack treated seriously" types of universes.

In his darker form often works with unhealthy relationships of all kind which is why he's also called the toxic rose.

Is brothers with cub (who will be introduced at a later date).

[m4ke4n4lter]

Can you make a nonverbal human cat hybrid boy altwr please? (pref if hes a little)

⋆˚࿔ (names) intro 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ basics ! ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

જ⁀➴oliver/oli જ⁀➴he/him, they/them, cute/cutes, little/littles, cat/cats, kitten/kittens, meow/meows, mew/mews, purr/purrs, mute/mutes જ⁀➴5 જ⁀➴masc, catgender, kittengender જ⁀➴human cat hybrid!! જ⁀➴aroace bi maa જ⁀➴transsweet, transcute, transharmed, transkawaii, transpastel

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ sys info ! ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

જ⁀➴little જ⁀➴pastel/cats/cute things inspo જ⁀➴depends !

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ other ! ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

જ⁀➴cutecore (no gore ver), pastelcore, angelcore જ⁀➴cute things, kitty toys, baby things, pastels, being treated like a little kid, nice people, candies, cakes, fish, toys, juice ✔ જ⁀➴rude people, sour things, vegies

(extra: they wear the hat but their ears are underneath!!)

[megabuild]

Scott mega build if I ask nicely will you elaborate on the implications of your pastel Ethubs fan child being oli

ethubs fanchild skin is based directly off my appearance irl + i want oli carnally and selfship with him as a joke = scary

[revenantlore]

Summerfest Ask Game Magnolia: Talk about one of your favorite side-characters.

(via @wintherlywords)

been working on Press Start lately, so I’ll answer this for Ziggy.

Ziggy is pastels and rainbows, guitar strings and sequins, rollerblades and fishnets.

She wants nothing more in life than to live and breathe music, a passion she’s had since childhood when she would go on long night drives with her father just to listen to the radio together. He bought her her first album, her first guitar, and encouraged her to get her first job at the local record store.

Only makes sense then for her to talk her best friend, Lex, and their roommate Oliver, into starting a grunge band in Oli’s grandma’s basement, with the hopes of someday making it big.

I love her. Best lady. One of few people who can talk Rem into behaving

[from this ask game]

[poisonheartfrog]

The sculk crawling across Shelby’s skin itches under the pastel gauze of her party dress. The spell may have hidden it from view, but she can still feel its every pulse. It writhes with a mind of its own. Combined with the buzz from Sausage's mojitos, she feels more than a little sick. At least the rum and lime covers up the taste of dank cave and rot in her mouth.

Fwhip and Oli chatter on either side of her, but she can barely pay attention to the words. The creeping infection speaks to her in a language of vibration. It calls to her to forget, to let it be a balm to cover up the pain. 

It can take away that shame that seethes in her heart, where every disappointed word from the Witch’s Academy, every failed spell, and every doubt lives.

She just has to give in.

Shelby clutches her glass a little tighter and paints on a smile.

She can feel the sculk squirm when Pix dies. 

*****

Katherine clears the long table, toned arms moving quickly from place setting to place setting. The glasses and plates gently clink together as she stacks them with the same precision Shelby has seen her use to separate monsters from their heads. 

Katherine is as kind as she always is, and her laugh is strawberries and spun sugar. She greets Shelby with a warm smile and Shelby replies with a blush.

Shelby wants to be close to her, to soak up her presence like sunshine. If her body were her own, Shelby would invite Katherine to visit her in the Evermoore, where they would stargaze under a velvet sky, or sit by the slow moving river and talk for hours.

But the sculk keeps burrowing into her skin. The itching turns to burning.

So Shelby begs for a cure, then lashes out with words that she doesn’t mean. Katherine winces and steps back, suddenly closed off. Shelby’s regret comes too late to make any difference.

Her shame seethes even more. 

*****

The sculk contains a galaxy, thousands of shadowy stars blinking in the dark. Every point is an opportunity. A promise that her thoughts will stop swirling and her mind will be at peace.

The itch is so strong now that she’s not sure she exists outside of it.

The catalyst sinks into the swirling fog at the heart of the Evermoore like it was always meant to be there.

Oli wanders in, like a lamb through an open slaughterhouse door. Killing him is almost too easy.

The sculk soaks up his blood and begins to bubble. It boils over and spreads, flowing through the mist and pooling around Shelby’s feet.

Tendrils lick up her legs and meet the veins already entwined around her. Shelby can hardly tell where she ends and the sculk begins, and a universe in shades of teal darkness is spread out before her.

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Sweet Music Playing In The Dark (Be Still, My Foolish Heart) [ Part Three ]

[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ]

A little bit of Buckingham backstory in this little au.

They met in highschool. Were an oddball set of friends. And they graduated and Chrissy moved away. But by chance, both of them ending up in the music scene.

Robin was always releasing weird random differently styled songs. Always keeping her fans on their toes. She's still a polyglot so she likes to write and and sing songs in the languages she learns too. Sometimes the whole song, sometimes just parts but she likes throwing it in there. Always puts translations in her little album covers.

Chrissy is more poppy. She likes catchy beats and fun music videos. She writes her own stuff and has a beautiful breathy singing voice. Is always covered in glitter. And is always in pastels. Robin is mostly in punky goth vibes.

They bump into each other at some award show afterparty and just... fall in love. And then they form a band. And that's that. Their fans go crazy when they announce it.

They both keep their respective vibes. Call their band Cottoncandy Poison. And they sell out their first tour in a week.

Steve and Eddie are both so proud of them. They're like their opposites in their pairings and they fell in love. Eddie and Steve were in the wedding. Steve was Robin's best man, in a beautiful deep orange velvet tux. Eddie was Chrissy's maid of honor, he worn a very cute pastel dress that she picked out for him. His tattoos clashing gorgeously with it.

The girls so so happy to have their boys with them. And then their boys become friends and they love it. Are secretly rooting for them to get together, even before the break ups. They'd never admit that. Bad karma and all that.

But the boys are friends now, and they're single, but they've been dancing around each other. Eddie had told Chrissy he was giving Steve time to heal his broken heart. Chrissy told him he could help Steve heal it faster. He'd just blushed and shaken his head.

But anyway, Eddie and Steve both like visiting their girls in their studio. They never plan their visits together but they do end up being there together a lot. Just shooting the shit.

Eddie comes in one day, Robin's singing in a language he doesn't know. He just raises his hand, waving through the window. Both girls wave back. Robin cuts the track. Eddie pushes the button so they can talk.

"Hey Buckster! And... Ham...ster? Not sure about that." He mutters, Chrissy perks up though, laughing.

"No i love it! Hamsters are so cute!"

"Alright then. Hamster it is! What was that track. Sounded spooky." He wiggles his eyebrows. Robin perks up then, snaps her fingers at him and beckons him into the room.

"What's up?" He asks as soon as he's next to her. She plops a pair of headphones onto his head. Tells him to listen. Tell her what it's missing.

She goes through it again. Sings back through. Eddie loves it. Doesn't understand the words, but the vibe and the sound of it gives him goosebumps. When she's done she looks at him as they take their headphones off. Eddie's about to tell her that he loves it when she says,

"Can you teach me how to scream?" And Eddie just smiles, tells her it would be his pleasure.

So he does. Talks her through it. Lets her touch his throat when he screams a few things so she can feel what he's doing. He doesn't want her to fuck up her vocal cords like he'd done when he first started out. She learns fast. Doesn't go too hard. Just kinda of growls a few words. And Eddie is stoked and proud of her.

She's growling things in russian, Eddie and Chrissy both smiling and nodding along as she does another take. Chrissy toning in with a cool breathy whisper type thing. Them singing together and meshing vocals always giving him chills.

And then Steve walks in, like three hours later and Robin yells,

"Steeevvveee!!! Eddie taught me how to scream, listen listen listen!!" And she goes through it again. Eddie still nodding, his nose crinkling as she screams, feeling it in his chest. He can see Steve beaming through the glass, his head nodding as well. When she stops, Steve pushes the button and says,

"Robs that was wicked!"

And she says she knows. And then promptly asks Eddie to do a verse for the song since he helped her get it right. He isn't sure. But all three of them convince him too. So she writes a translation for him. He does his verse in english.

And it's the coolest song. Steve watches them reord and it, smiling the whole time. His eyes crinkling all cute. He gives Eddie an adorable double thumbs up through the glass when they finish it and Eddie feels his heart flutter. Steve's smile softens a little and his cheeks tint pink as he finally looks away.

They all stay at Robin and Chrissy's that night, Steve and Eddie making the girls dinner, dancing around each other in the kitchen as the girls sit in the other room, snickering. And plotting. And planning.

They will get these boys together. No matter what it takes.

[madneocity-universe]

I can't let go of your heart: Hua Choi & Theo Yang

Aviso de conteúdo sensível: love bombing, choro, traição, uma ou duas menções de relações sexuais e amassos e luto de término. Mas claro, tudo muito cômico e algumas coisas podem e devem mudar no futuro. Favor não tumultuarem o post.

Depois.

Será que se ela, de repente, passasse pela sala correndo com aquela tesoura na mão, ia conseguir tempo suficiente pra se trancar no banheiro social? Se ela tivesse sorte de tropeçar e não cair e acabar se perfurando no processo, por causa da visão borrada pelas lágrimas que derramou o fim de semana todo, ela bem que conseguiria, certo? Ela só precisava chegar no último degrau da escada, bem devagar e sem alertar seus pais sentados no sofá e de costas pra ela…

— Hua Choi, você NÃO VAI cortar seu cabelo por causa de um garoto! Você tá doida?

E não ter uma mãe vidente e senciente em casa, claro. Se não tivesse, certeza que ia conseguir cortar mais sua franja e poder descontar em seu cabelo toda a tristeza que ela sente no peito.

Mas não ia ser hoje.

Antes.

Ela se lembra bem do convite animado que recebeu de Alice e Andrômeda Moreau para comparecer no sweet sixteen das duas em uma festa belíssima num castelo antigo nos arredores de Mônaco, e se lembra também de ter respondido super alegre que adoraria vestir um vestido bonito e exibir seu piercing novo e estaria lá na companhia dos irmãos e melhor amiga. Ela tinha se preparado por meses, feito os presentes ela mesma, e chegado naquele lugar com toda confiança que lhe cabia, até perder toda a euforia e achar tudo opressor demais.

Não era pelos convidados, porque todos lhe trataram muito bem até ela seguir caminho pra varanda e se esconder de todo mundo, e definitivamente não foi pelo ambiente, porque ela adorou aquele sentimento de estar em um sonho cheio de velas e docinhos confeitados e fadinhas elogiando Deus e o mundo e achando seu piercing na boca a coisa mais legal do mundo. Aquilo vinha de dentro, e a deixou tão ansiosa que mesmo lá fora e cercada de ar por toda parte, se sentiu sufocada e prestes a cair dura no chão sem nada de oxigênio em seu corpo.

Não ia fazer Mulan ficar plantada ao seu lado introduzindo todas aquelas pessoas, porque sabia que sua irmã mais velha tinha mais o que fazer com os amigos, o que se aplicava a Marie também e o tempo que a mesma queria passar com um dos padrinhos e ser mimada pela sua rodinha monegasca/francesa antes do verão europeu. A ela restava um bico desse tamanho e pensamentos de encorajamento que nem chegavam em seu cérebro, que dirá seu coração acelerado, sentada naquele lugarzinho esquecido por todos.

O que não era bem o caso de Theo Yang, que estava se sentindo corajoso até demais com a língua dentro da boca de Alice Moreau, depois de dizer que o presente dela consistia em ela sentar em seu colo e deixar ele encher a mão em sua bunda, no primeiro quarto desocupado que tinham achado pela frente. Tinha sido longo, tinha sido ótimo, deixou os dois borrados de batom até o momento que tiveram que descer e voltar pra festa. E ele até podia aquietar o rabo e se contentar em analisar todas as saias médias e curtas que passavam por ele naquele salão, enquanto tomava o lugar ao lado de Oli e o ouvia tagarelar sem parar com Andrômeda sobre assuntos que só os dois entendiam, consciente que ia ser deselegante da parte dele terminar de passar o rodo naquela festa, até ver um pontinho azul pastel na varanda.

Daquela distância, ele achava que conhecia aquela garota, talvez das idas e vindas na casa de sua tia Harumi na Ásia ou então de outros aniversários que ele mesmo frequentou nos últimos dezesseis anos, mas principalmente por todas as vezes que já ouviu seu primo falar sobre ela com seus irmãos. As mesmas vezes que Theo esteve totalmente desinteressado e ainda tirando com a cara de Seo sobre o quão brega era ele ter crush na irmã de uma de suas amigas, mas só até ele perceber que podia muito bem se aproximar de Hua Choi e contar aquele segredo pra ela.

Como quem não queria nada, um passo de cada vez, as mãos penduradas nos bolsos da calça social na postura mais relaxada possível, porque ele não queria mesmo nada sério com aquilo. Ia dizer pra ela que Seo tinha passado uns cinco feriados em família sem calar a boca, então esperar pra ver no que dava, antes de sumir de fininho e criar todo um cenário pros pais sobre como ele JAMAIS seria capaz de uma vigarice dessas.

Mas isso foi antes, antes dele descobrir que… Ela até que era bonita. Eu meio que entendo você, agora.

— Legal sua tatuagem de dragão no pulso. Posso ver mais de perto?

Ele não esperava Choi congelando do nada, e muito menos a maneira robótica que a garota mais baixa ergueu o braço na direção dele, como se estivesse recebendo uma ordem, mas já que estavam ali, tomou o cuidado de tomar a mão dela na sua, analisando o desenho se movendo pelo braço dela de forma fluida. Quase desesperada.

— Não parece uma tatuagem…

— É porque não é. Tá mais pra uma marca de nascença, da minha mãe… Na verdade, minha mãe passou ela pra mim e meus irmãos. Porque é assim que marcas de nascença funcionam… — Pelo amor de Deus, por que ela não consegue calar a porra da boca? Do jeito que seu dragão se move, Mulan e Yeong e qualquer cidadão de Lijiang por perto saberia que ela estava prestes a ter um derrame, e nem era pelo garoto super alto e super bonito segurando seu braço, mas sim a situação. Ela vai desmaiar se precisar ficar ali mais um minuto. — Eu… Eu…

— Parece estar precisando de espaço e companhia. — E ele podia muito bem ir lá dentro e chamar um parente dela, qualquer pessoa que a conhecesse de verdade e soubesse lidar com aquilo, mas uma vozinha em sua cabeça diz que ele é a pessoa perfeita pra isso. E é claro que ele acredita. — Sorte sua que eu te encontrei antes. Vou cuidar de você.

Hua não sabe como falar com Theo Yang, fez ela voltar a respirar devagar e até pensar em qualquer coisa além de seu coração acelerado, mas tudo fica tão bem que sua tatuagem de dragão no pulso some, e as únicas visíveis são as que ela já tem. E Theo não sabe como conversar e acalmar Hua Choi o deixou entretido até a festa acabar, mas fica feliz quando ela diz que ele foi gentil e amável e descobre que ama o sotaque dela quando ela fala francês, mas principalmente inglês, enquanto olha pra ele com aqueles olhos enormes e lindos.

Eles não sabem de muita coisa, mas quando Hua passa pela porta de casa e abraça sua mãe antes de ir pra cama, Mei Choi sabe de tudo, e principalmente que não pode interferir.

— Tem uma tempestade vindo por aí, Han.

Sempre que passa pela ilha pra dar um oi e atormentar Akali até ter a prima o ameaçando de morte enquanto lhe aponta dedos olhando pra cima, Theo pensa que é o dia pra contar aquele segredo para Hua Choi e ver no que dá, mas só até colocar os olhos nela na casa do lado e descobrir que ela fica mais bonita a cada fim de semana.

E que ele se sente mais atraído por ela a cada bom dia também.

— Gosto do seu estilo de menina soft com piercing e tatuagem, sabia? As meninas na Europa não são tão legais. — Comenta com ela certa vez, demorando muito os olhos no tamanho de sua saia plissada e cheia de margaridas, num contraste perfeito com as joias que ela exibe na orelha e o anel que atravessa seu lábio inferior. — E nem tão interessantes também.

Ah, Hua adora ser elogiada, mas ainda mais quando vem depois dela ter aberto a boca por mais de uma hora pra falar de como ela aprendeu a tocar harpa sozinha, está aprendendo seu quinto idioma e passou a manhã toda montando um look pra chamar a atenção de Yang, porque ela sabia que sábado era dia de visitas e tinha passado a semana toda esperando pra ver ele espreitando sua casa de novo. Essa última parte, ela não o deixa saber, mas só porque tem outras prioridades e precisa ter certeza que vão ser bem sucedidas sem ele pensar que ela é uma maluca.

— E no que você acha que eu sou melhor que as outras meninas? — Que Fei Long não permita que seus pais assistam da janela da sala ela ficando vermelha e ansiosa depois de soltar uma pataquada daquelas, mas mais uma vez, tem certeza que qualquer pessoa em Lijiang sabe que agora, ela vai ter um derrame.

Depois que Theo a puxa pela cintura e a beija, um derrame parece pouco pra quantidade de coisas acontecendo em seu corpo por dentro, e não fica melhor depois.

— Você beija melhor que as outras meninas, também.

Fica perfeito.

Na medida do possível.

Fica perfeito porque eles se falam por cartas todos os dias e é sempre ele que escreve primeiro. Fica perfeito porque ele sempre a presenteia com doces, flores e coisas fofas e simples dizendo que fizeram ele lembrar dela. Fica perfeito porque ele sempre aparece nos fins de semana com a desculpa que precisa sequestrar ela por umas horas, e que eles precisam de um tempo além dos amigos e de todo o resto. E fica perfeito porque se sente perfeito, até quando não parece tão perfeito assim.

— Como assim ele some agora durante a semana? Achei que vocês se falavam todos os dias… Tipo… Vocês não deviam se falar todos os dias? — Marie pode não ter herdado todos os neurônios da mãe, mas aquela conversa a faz se sentir quase ofendida, projetando um bico de todo tamanho ao ouvir Hua dizendo que Theo tinha lhe dado um perdido, mesmo sem dizer perdido. — Porque se vocês não estão se falando sempre… Quando é que ele te procura?

De madrugada, quase sempre, e quando ninguém escuta mais porque estão todos dormindo. Hua pensa muitos pensamentos agora, porque acha que não quer revelar pra Marie só porque Kim é muito jovem, e não porque ela, Hua Choi, anda dando na calada da noite pra um garoto que tem coragem de chamá-la de namorada mas nunca se comporta como um namorado propriamente dito. Hua pensa muitos, mas muitos pensamentos mesmo sobre como eles nunca falam desse relacionamento, porque sempre que ela tenta externalizar suas dúvidas, Theo a distrai tirando a roupa e depois descendo a boca até a calcinha dela.

Então ela não sabe como responder aquela pergunta, e nem como está se sentindo sem toda aquela atenção que tinha só pra si e agora não resta mais nada. Ela só sabe concordar e encolher os ombros, antes de enfiar um chocolate na boca e voltar toda sua atenção pra qualquer coisa que a deixa minimamente feliz.

Completa. Pra ofuscar aquele vazio horroroso e incômodo.

— O que você acha de procurar ninhos de tartaruga na praia amanhã? Eu quero ter certeza que nessa temporada, todos os bebês vão conseguir ir pra água.

Na ilha do lado, essa mesma conversa passa pela cabeça de Theo e ele meio que lembra que tinha marcado de ver Hua naquela noite, mas está tão ocupado beijando Kylo Chan até ela derreter em seus braços, que só tem tempo de fazer uma nota mental antes de perder o foco de seus pensamentos de novo.

Amanhã ele vai mandar peônias e balas de gelatina, porque hoje, ele quer aquela garota gemendo o nome dele sem dó.

Ela torce pras meninas francesas que a encontram no caminho, não estejam mentindo quando a elogiam e olham pra ela de cima a baixo com doçura, porque Hua vai ficar arrasada se descobrir que vestido cor-de-rosa com babadinhos e uma fita no cabelo, não tem nada a ver com coturnos e aquela cesta de piquenique tradicional. Seu intuito enquanto anda pelos corredores de Beauxbatons e cruza com um monte de familiares e amigos em visita no sábado, é só desviar de todas essas pessoas e chegar o mais rápido possível no seu único objetivo: surpreender Theo e dizer que ela entende que talvez ele tenha se cansado de ser o único fazendo coisas por ela (mesmo que ela sempre tenha feito por ele também, às vezes até mais do que ele, que só se prestava ao mínimo) e que ela quer um momento com ele.

Sem sexo. Nem amassos intensos. Muito menos qualquer putaria atravessada, e nem é por ela estar menstruada, coisa que não era o caso. Ela só quer comer bolo de matcha e ficar de mãos dadas, hoje.

— Não é mentira, rosa cai mesmo bem em você. — Andrômeda Moreau diz assim que coloca os olhos em Hua, como se estivesse lendo seus pensamentos ou vendo de alguma forma o passado, oferecendo um sorriso bonito para Choi. — Mas acho que é a sua aura alegre. O que trás você aqui?

Oli, que estava só distraidamente segurando a cintura da amiga e prestando atenção no movimento do corredor, fica curioso pra resposta que Hua vai dar, mas só até também colocar os olhos nela e descobrir sem ela precisar nem ao menos dizer.

Aquilo ia ser ruim. Aquilo ia ser péssimo.

— O Theo est-

— Ocupado.

Se ele for mais frio e incisivo que aquilo, tem medo de parecer malvado e atrair para si um problema que não é seu, então escolhe melhor as palavras quando se volta para Hua, segurando Andi com mais força.

— Se eu fosse você, não iria atrás dele.

Porque ele acha que o irmão não merece, e nem que a própria Hua merece, mas por motivos totalmente opostos e que Oli não sente que está pronto pra debater em plena luz do dia e com tantas pessoas em volta, então, quando Choi o ignora com um beicinho e segue seu caminho pro dormitório, não tem mais nada que ele possa fazer por ela.

Algumas coisas precisam ser sentidas, ele acredita com todas as suas forças, e aquilo não é algo que ele pode evitar pro bem de ninguém. É só uma pena que as coisas precisem acontecer dessa forma.

Hua não precisa chegar até a porta pra saber que Theo não está sozinho, e nem precisa que a mesma esteja aberta pra saber o que ele está fazendo lá com outra garota. Hua escuta como as peles deles se tocam, como a outra garota gosta de ser fundida com o corpo dele e como ele mesmo gosta do jeito que a buceta dela o engole. Ela consegue ouvir tudo umas duas portas de distância, alto e claro, e é tão constrangedor que ela acha que vai vomitar na primeira lixeira que achar pelo caminho depois de começar a correr rápido e sem rumo pra bem longe dali.

— Você vivia ocupado… — Alice o provoca, alheia a tudo que acontece do lado de fora daquele quarto quente, sentindo as pernas sendo presas ao redor da cintura de Yang pelas mãos dele. — Por que tem tempo agora?

Ele pode dizer que estava enrolado com uma garota, mas que não está mais, e que só se enrolou com ela porque queria causar discórdia com seu primo contando um segredo dele pra essa tal garota, mas então ia ter que dizer também que acabou gostando daquela dinâmica e se sentiu na obrigação de comer alguém que Seo queria ter pra si. Ele pode contar tudo para Alice Moreau, e esperar que ela conte pra Beauxbatons inteira até chegar em sua mãe numa aula qualquer dia desses, então prefere a versão que faz ele dormir a noite.

E não se sentir nem um pouco culpado pelas decisões que tomou até chegar ali.

— Eu achei que queria uma coisa, mas perdeu a graça depois que eu conquistei. — Yang suspira de alívio ao sentir o calor da garota o envolvendo de novo, como se tivessem ficado uma eternidade sem aquilo. — Não era pra mim. Já você…

Algumas coisas precisam mesmo ser sentidas, mas MeiMei prometeu pra si mesma que nem um de seus filhos ia sentir elas sozinhos.

Fosse as dores da vida ou as decisões idiotas que eles com certeza iam se arrepender depois.

— Viu como é melhor quando outra pessoa faz por você? Não corre risco de ficar torto. — Mei diz com carinho, cortando mecha por mecha do cabelo de Hua, porque não acredita mesmo que sua filha do meio vai ficar feia por causa de um corte de cabelo na altura dos ombros, não enquanto ela tiver o controle da tesoura enquanto a mais jovem chora inconsolavelmente de novo. — Cabelo cresce.

E corações voltam com seus caquinhos pro lugar. Uma hora aquela tempestade ia passar, e talvez até voltasse a fazer sol depois.

[venom-bitez]

How my art teacher feels after making a Oli pastel project due the week we can’t even go into school and makes the due date after the 3 days we are back (NOT EVERYONE HAS THE MONEY FOR THE PASTELS)