#readers lamp

[huariqueje]

The Library  -   Ingrid Fröhlich

German, b. 1940 -

Illustration

[completeoveranalysis]

[10]

Ohhh. Now that is striking. This frame in particular.

You could read as many metaphors as you like into how this matches the general Watanuki narrative here - Watanuki mirrored against a distorted image of himself. Is that his past self? Or Lava Lamp? Or the hole in the universe he's causing? His grief? The general weight of his existence? The influence he has on other people's lives? They all work well, especially with one Mokona being black and one being white.

But also (Bad Apple plays softly in the distance)

OH HELP, THAT IS TOO MUCH. 

I AM OVERCOME WITH EMOTION. 

It doesn’t even matter which Sakura is his mother, honestly it’s such a Sakura move. For his new name to be a literal promise that they will see him again. 

So, that way, his an existence proof of their promise. Every moment ‘Kimihiro Watanuki’ exists that means their promise lives on. And every time someone says his name, it’s like their words are reaching him all over again.

OH HELP THAT’S TOO MUCH. 

And that’s such a cute way to round it off! Watanuki hears Lava Lamp’s voice echo through the universe, making him promise not to vanish. And this time Watanuki can accept it honestly, because he’s already decided to do the same - for the people around him and for Lava Lamp.

[ddarker-dreams]

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Companion piece to Idée Fixe.

(A journal entry that will never see the light of day, for it is meant to rot in darkness. Even the amoral owner is bound to agree with this).

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Chrollo is creepy hooooly shit (he needs a hobby), and religious imagery. Word count: 1k.

I have become hopelessly smitten with a woman who is, for lack of a better word, strange. 

She tells me she’s “probably agnostic, because that word sounds cooler than atheist”, while often exemplifying the religious doctrine she grew up in. She condemns herself for qualities she’d pardon in others. She’ll get excited over the most mundane things, such as pigeons, or when her rewards add up enough to get her favorite drink for free. I’m allowed to steal a certain amount before she stares at me, not quite comfortable enough to express her dissatisfaction verbally, yet undoubtedly pondering the perfect string of words to avoid offending me. 

The extent of her consideration for others is perplexing. There is no advantage to be gained by placating strangers, though her insistence on the matter would almost convince you otherwise. She never says “you’re welcome”, it’s always “of course”, as if the act of going so far out of her way is expected of her. If not that phrase, she’ll say “it’s no problem”, on the off chance the individual may think they burdened her. 

She’s strange, yes, but we’re alike in many ways, so I wonder what that’d make me. 

I’ve taken on innumerable roles throughout the years. I know how to judge the weight of my every word. My motivation for doing so is self-serving in nature. People, to me, are locks that require the right combination to crack. From what I can tell, she’s come to realize this too. Instead of pursuing this advantage, she shies away from it. Originally, I thought it was nothing more than people-pleasing, but it goes beyond that. She loves humanity, the same humanity I deem worthless. It’d be easier for me to understand if there was an ulterior motive. Alas, that'd be doing her a major injustice.

My initial intrigue in her was nothing more than a passing fancy. I had time to pass, and she just happened to be in the vicinity, reading a book I’m partial to. I thought I’d give her a few minutes of my time and then be on my way. Presently, however, If I believed in fate, I’d go so far as to say our paths were destined to cross. She is every part of myself that has died a slow death. Optimism, empathy, passion… they mix together to form the essence of her being. 

I didn’t intend to give her so much of my time. She became indispensable to me before I realized what was happening. In retrospect, perhaps I knew deep down that this was the type of person I’d been looking for. Someone I’d struggle between wanting to ruin or preserve. I erred toward the former at first. If I didn’t wake her from her naïve reverie, another would inevitably come down the line and do it themselves. The mere concept was unforgivable. 

As time passed, it became clear she wasn’t living in a dreamlike state, but was perfectly aware of her surroundings and the people who inhabit them. This left me at an impasse. How do you destroy someone who has already annihilated and rebuilt themselves? There are ways, yes, yet no longer did the idea appeal to me. I wanted something new from her, though the specifics alluded me. What I did know, however, was that this strange woman would touch many lives for the better. 

This was a constant torment. I’d have to go about my business, knowing full well she’s making others smile, laugh, and otherwise brightening their day elsewhere. My chest would become impossibly tight whenever I fixated on this. She holds qualities people are inevitably drawn to. She is radiance incarnate, so easy to adore. A light like that is visible far and wide.

When I pressed back against her dearly held beliefs, instead of fading, she burned ever brighter.

I know she feels it too — this invisible rope that binds us. She’ll happily talk to me for hours, even when I forgo superficial charm and express slivers of my depravity. She sees it, acknowledges it, and seeks me out all the same. I find myself talking more than I meant to when she’s around. She challenges me, interestingly enough. Her arguments often have holes and aren’t by any means polished, but she cuts to the heart of things. 

She is my personal torment. I want every inch of her for myself. Her unique mind, heart, soul… would it be enough? Could I stop there? Or would I keep going, taking more and more, until we were essentially one flesh? 

It’s by her recommendation I’m writing any of this down. She said “I am in desperate need of intensive therapy” and sent some links to her recommendations. I’m inclined to give in to her requests since she asks for so little, but that might be the one I have to refuse. I cannot recall the last time I met someone this amusing, if ever. The inner workings of her pretty little head are a mystery I long to unravel.

Displeased as I am to admit it, a day will pass when she no longer looks at me the way she does now. My true identity can’t go unknown forever, the revelation is inevitable. Still, I won’t let her go. My grip will only grow tighter. If her ire is my penance for possessing her entirely, then I’ll accept the sentence and chip away at it over time. Emotions are transient. With the right encouragement, I can guide her back to my arms, even if she considers the embrace a scourge. 

When we first met, she said something that has taken permanent residence in my mind. 

“So long as I can say I helped one person, that’s good enough for me.” 

This was always bound to be my benediction and her condemnation. 

From that moment onward, her life was mine to do with as I please. There are many far more worthy of her than I, which is why I’ll never give them the chance. I’ll deprive the world of her vibrancy. It could become engulfed in eternal darkness, and still, I’d happily refuse to give her back. Let them lament, weep, and gnash their teeth.

In my youth, I set out to be the greatest villain. Never have I been more willing to carry out the actions befitting such a lofty title. 

This is the curse of a wicked man’s love, [First] [Last]. Revisit your religion and pray fervently. For only a god could save you from the future I’ve planned for us. 

[lampylamperson]

@gh0stsp1d3r @nemesyaaa

Guys I fear I may need him in a way that’s concerning to feminism

[sneez]

more of them :-) the first one is based on a promotional photograph for the 1928 film and the second is based on an extremely ugly lamp i found in an antique shop. please don't tag as body horror or anything similar [id in alt text]

[riaki]

— last train at 25 o' clock | suguru geto x reader fluff(???)/light angst @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat please take this bc coffee shop geto is gonna take a bit

it's 1am in the morning, the train platform's a ghost town, and the hum of the vending machine is all the noise in the world as you and suguru wait for the last ride home after a mission.

wc : 2.6k cw : brief mentions of blood ; references to hidden inventory arc , shoko typical smoking , probably some other stuff i'm forgettin not proofread!!!! also he may be ooc srry

i cooked this up last minute cus i remembered my promise of posting every weekend last week so my bad if u can tell its rushed lol post hidden inventory pre defection

suguru remembers it like it was yesterday.

the song of summer insects reaches your ear as you clamber up to the train station platform; a pandemonium of cicadas and crickets that sing odes to the full moon in the sky partially curtained by dark clouds and the dew on the grass that's begun to form.

"damn, it's hot." you muttered, wiping your forehead as your arm shot out to grab the dirty railing, white paint cracked and peeled as a splinter pricks your fingers and you flinch. suguru follows after you; a small hum is your acknowledgment.

"careful. shoko doesn't like dealing with splinters," he says from behind you, stepping up the stairs two at a time to straighten up on the train platform, hands in his pockets. “i don’t have reversed curse technique healing either.” there's the smell of a storm in the air, and the lights overhead buzz and flicker with the intermittent beat of a moth's wings. you just give a dip of your head in acknowledgement as you pry your hand away from the railing, the scent of old wood lingering on your hand as you wipe off the dust clinging to your palm on your pants.

(geez, you two have no sense for these types of things.)

suguru holds a hand out, and you take it eagerly to let him pull you up the last step, before politely letting go and slipping it back into his pocket once more. you let out an exhausted sigh and stand up, rubbing your tired eyes as you look around.

the platform is deserted save for the stray cat beneath the station bench, sniffing at a clump of weeds growing from the metal leg. there's a vending machine up against the wall to the elevator, an obnoxious painted 'out of order' sign on the lift's muddy glass doors, stained with dust, dirt, and fingerprints. there's some... creative graffiti on the wall, and a starch yellow section of caution tape flutters in the humid evening wind.

the cat scratches at the concrete floor, and its matted white fur and crystal blue eyes remind you of someone. you glance up at suguru, poking his arm to get his attention.

"look. it's satoru." you huffed, still a little loose for breath as you reach out and grab his shoulder, leaning against him for support. the dark-haired boy just laughs a little, taking his phone out to snap a picture and no doubt send it to the white-haired brat. "i see it." he leans a little closer to you; it's subtle, and you don't notice it, but the way his shoulders sag just so you have an easier time holding on speaks volumes. "don't send it to him! he's probably asleep right now. think it's past his evening sugar high?" you asked, glancing up at him with a tilt of your head.

"most likely. i think he got sent on another solo mission today." there's a tiny bitter bite to suguru's voice that underlines its usual velvetiness; like an ocean current beneath the waves that you only find once you've been dragged underwater. you don't say anything about it, though. the sleeves of his uniform crumple beneath your fingers when they curl into the fabric, a shiver running down your spine as goosebumps spring up on your skin like shroom caps after the summer rain.

suguru is observant.

"you cold? you can have my jacket." it's immediate, and his voice is as smooth as cream silk and marble as he shrugs your hand off (much to your dismay-- shown with a bite to your cheek) to unbutton his uniform jacket, slipping it off his shoulders and offering it to you. when you stand there, feeling a little daze and a lot tired, he just smiles, shoving it in your face with a low chuckle that sounds like honey pouring from a jar.

"you sure? you can hug a cursed spirit if you get cold, 'cus you're not getting it back." you sighed after a moment, reluctantly taking his jacket and tugging it over your shoulders. it's warm, and it smells like his cologne- like some natural incense that soothes your nerves and loosens your body to the marrow in your weary bones. you bury your nose in it and forget to think about the warm hue on your cheeks that you'll later chalk up to the humid air.

"i'm sure." the cat by the bench perks up, staring directly in your direction. it yawns, before bounding away, disappearing behind the vending machine with a flick of its cloud white tail. the machine is missing a few rows of drinks, but the green of a melon soda can that's far too saturated to have a name to the original fruit and the cream and red of a yakult bottle are enough to catch your eyes beneath the harsh light of the display.

"still don't understand how you get cold on a night like this, though." he makes a gesture towards 'this' with one hand, fingers flexing in a way that makes your heart flutter unreasonably.

a moment of silence passes; you can see the distant lights of some prefecture over the hill, and your mind briefly wanders to rainy afternoons, puddles reflecting the red neon of passing cars and distorted faces under plastic umbrellas sandwiched between painted concrete and a dark sky.

"you want a drink? on me, as thanks." you say, breaking the sound of silence and nodding towards the vending machine as you look up at suguru. it takes him a moment to respond, so you use the opportunity to admire his profile; the slope of his nose, the deep hazel of his eyes that shine a copper rust beneath the pale yellow light overhead. his hair is a little messy; it's falling out of its slicked back bun, a product of your earlier fight. there's a scrape on your ankle from tripping through the bush in an attempt to put distance between the curse when you had been engaged earlier; it still stings. there's a tightness to his jaw, you notice- and some part of you wishes you could take it for yourself.

the section of dark hair in front of his face sways as he turns to look down at you, gaze charting the corners of your face (your cheeks look soft, he notes) before he opens his mouth to speak.

one kick to the machine, a disappointed frown when nothing comes out, and two yen bills later, the pop of can tabs fills your ears as condensation seeps into your skin, a pleasant relief from the heaviness of the summer air. it's too much when the cold side of a drink is pressed to your cheek, though-- and you let out a yelp of protest, shooting a quick glare up at suguru, who just laughs it off and takes a sip of his drink.

you down a sip of your own; it's a sweet fruit tea that's your go to whenever it's hot out. sweet, citrusy, like starfruit. it tastes like a summer of youth and a warm blue spring. it's pleasant.

a distant rumble echoes from the dark horizon, and both of your gazes simultaneously snap towards it-- at last, you think. the last train is here. you adjust suguru's jacket around your shoulders, catching a whiff of something that smells like rosemary and new leather as his voice fills your ears.

it's an easy night when you pass the threshold and step into the train car, speckled white floors and blue hard seats greeting you. somewhere, there's a ticket stuffed into one of your pockets; a memento of late evenings that blend into early mornings when there's a bruise on your face and a knick on suguru's wrist that soothe themselves with the harmony of small talk and sensation of fizzling bubbles in cold metal cans as the train jostles you along. you're sitting, and he's standing, one arm on the hangers overhead as you talk about everything and nothing. he catches himself every now and then, watching with minimal interest as the sliding doors part themselves like gateways to the afterlife for ghost passengers. it's not your stop yet; far from it.

"say, suguru-- do you miss going on missions with satoru?" you asked after a moment, fingers drumming against your knees as the automated voice overhead announces the next stop, empty farm plots and tangles of wire passing by as the lights inside cozy houses dim and go off.

he doesn't answer that, so you just look out the window.

(suguru, you gettin' enough sleep? heatstroke?)

"how's the cut on your leg?" he finally murmurs after a moment, his eyelids heavy before he tears his gaze away from a tacky advertising on the wall and back to your scrunched nose.

"annoying." you just sighed, and you watched as he gave a small smile; his eyes fluttering shut, long lashes resting against his cheeks. you wondered if the wings of a butterfly would be heavy enough to weigh them down.

he moves after a second, sitting down one seat away from you in a swift motion and beckoning for you to lift your leg. you comply, not entirely sure where it's going- until he gently rolls the hem of your pant leg up, pressing the cold edge of his half-empty soda to the angry red scratch, and you wince a little before letting out one, long sigh. you melt into the chair, feeling like a senior citizen with a hunched back and one too many shrine visits under a bleached kyoto sun.

"thanks." you mumbled, leaning your head against the window as the train jostles ever so slightly to its own tracked rhythm.

he just hums in response, pulling a worn bandaid out of his pocket; the plastic top has pen smudges on it and the white wax gets caught between his pearly teeth as he tugs it off, taking time to make sure he positions the healing strip properly before flattening it down on your leg.

"shoko makes no sense when she talks about her reversed curse technique, so this'll do." he says quietly, and you let yourself fall into the pool of molasses that comes from his throat as you close your eyes, feeling the dull sensation of pain drain from your muscles and melt away like the first waves of spring and the ripple of lake water as a lone sakura petal disturbs the mirrored blue surface.

"i could learn it." you said after a moment, pressing your lips together in an attempt to snuff out the feeling of his fingers lingering on your skin, toying with the loose edge of the bandaid. he just snorts, and you crack one eye open to glare at him.

the rest of the train ride is spent in silence; you slip in and out of a hazy sleep, and you're faintly aware of the timeline-- somehow, your drink ends up on his lips. your head ends up on his shoulder, and your ears pick up his quickened heartbeat. his warmth is nothing like the humidity that clings to your skin like a layer of smoke and vapor, accompanied by sticky dango and raucous laughter weaving between the sounds of fireworks and the crunch of dirt beneath pairs of geta. he smells like home and his soft hair tickles your face as your little breaths squeeze past your parted lips, a warmth like bumping shoulders and linking fingers seeping into your body like the steady stream of fine sand in an hourglass. a warmth like empty classrooms lit by golden hour; windows cracked open to let in a fresh breeze as the faint smell of cigarette smoke drifts up to the room from the brunette and her lighter beneath the patch of shade from a tree in the courtyard below.

(need a light?)

this is how it's been for the past month. tired mumbles and hushed murmurs exchanged between two people who are more than friends but less than lovers after each harrowing mission; shared drinks and linked pinkies, the warmth that stains cheeks rosy when fingers that look small against calloused ones brush with another hand reaching for the metal pole on the train. heavy silence as you fall asleep on his shoulder; faint tingles when his fingers graze your knuckles as he stares at the dark reflection in the windows across. even the windows know how to make him relax.

one day, it'll be just him. a white bird stained black by apollo's hand in a sea of dirty geese, silent as the others hawk and squawk for a place on the lake. one hand hooked around the hard plastic of a hanger, supporting heavy shoulders with weight that could rival atlas' burden. a boy so tired of being beaten by the waves that he succumbs to the undercurrent with the same practice as before, only the paint on the railings has chipped past repair and not even the greenery of the countryside can touch the stains on the windows to his soul; eyes that used to shine with mirth and crinkle with gentle smiles become sunken and heavy with experience more suited to those a decade older.

he'd already chosen his path when he offered his jacket to you; when he laughed at the way you'd sneezed after investigating the patch of weed that had captured the stray cat's attention from before. and he knew that you'd noticed, and he knew that you'd try, and he knew that he wouldn't let you.

he knew when he woke you up with a gentle nudge to the forehead, suppressing the fluttering feeling in the heart he didn't know he still had when you made a grumpy tired face and stood up with much effort and a stumble or two.

(damn monkeys.)

it was easy nights like these that he'd eventually miss the most. walking you back to your dorm, past the candy wrappers and empty cola cans in the halls stained with imaginary blood and passing glances. departing with a kiss goodbye when he knew you were too drowsy and delirious to be able to remember it come morning.

the swing of a jazz rhythm would get stuck in his throat when you stumbled, only catching yourself from the jolt of the train's stop by latching a hand onto his wrist like some evil little lamprey and muttering a small 'sorry'. he'd laugh it off, collect the empty bottles of drinks of debt, and tug on the sleeve of his jacket on your arms, gently helping you off the platform as your pant leg slid back down to cover the bandaid on your leg, rough fabric scratching away the ghost of his touch on your skin. he wished it would just stay for a little longer.

and when the morning came and you woke up in your bed with his scent on the fabric of your shirt, you'd do it all over again. the only part of the terrible cycle he ever took pleasure in. even when the vile taste of a cursed spirit sunk into his stomach, it would be washed away with the right pop and fizzle of sugary drink followed by an even sweeter kiss to the knot between his tired eyes.

there was nothing about your time together he wouldn't ever miss.

you'd be his past, his present, and his afterlife. even when it was his turn to get off the ghost train and step past those sliding doors that held new meaning, you were the last thought on his mind.

one day, he hopes to see you again, when the last train comes in the night so late it could be considered early morning and the platform can relive old memories of peeling paint on a past summer spring once more.

hope u guys enjoyed the catoru cameo my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[scribbiesan]

“…And at the epicentre of the strange, dark power, stands the Archon.”

(If quality looks shitty, click on the image)

@imagine-darksiders

Omfg he’s done. Luci you overcomplicated bitch.

Hey everyone! Took me a bit longer than expected to get his big feathered butt out and done, but here he is!! Archon Lucien in all his corrupted, pissy, territorial glory. I truly do love Ellie’s way with words and how she brings the characters to life in her stories, and makes my heart hurt in the best of ways. I hope you enjoy this lovely little piece for your Penance fic! I’m probably gonna get fixated on more as time goes by.

Catch y’all later!!

Toodles!~

[heartfullofleeches]

Bro, nightlight has me in a chokehold. I have been imagining them with lava lamp parts cause g l o w is nice. Also, they are purple cause thats my fav color. I made a whole new account to finally send you fanart! I love your work so much! All of your characters are absolutely lovely! So much variety for both yans and darlings is so hard to find all on one account. I can't put into words how much I love all of your work 💜 (hopefully Tumblr doesn't eat this 😭)

Oooo lava lamp is an amazing choice - the colors are so pretty too! Their yans prolly get lost for hours just watching the different shapes form, ensnared by their glow. Dunno how to explain it but the way they look kinda makes me feel like their skin is kinda squishy. I wanna hug them so bad-

Thank you so much for the doodle - and the kind words 💜💜

[thequeenofcupps]

I feel like Sloan would have those Himalayan salt lamps and before they go to bed they lick it for good luck

[luci-z-wont-shut-up]

I'd like yalls help w something, please

Regardless of its intelligence level, how many non-human creatures have Arthur and John had an emotionally positive experience with?bc I am wracking my brain and the only ones I can come up with are the lamp-eft, the buopoth, the cana, and the owl (I have yet to figure out if cana is a species or a job title but yall know who I'm talking about)

If anyone can fact-check/correct/update me on this I'd appreciate it so much 🙏

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

if doll reader is hollow, then their "skin" (porcelain) is probably just thin enough to let light shine through! at night time foul legacy or childe could use their visions to make little light shows in your arms and body (without hurting you obviously). they could even do some sort of shadow puppet show lol

OH MY GOODNESS you just dug up one of my memories this is lovely, hear me out

your skin having carvings in it, certain areas that are just a hair thinner and drawn in artful swirls and stars and flowers. when you're just doing about your day-to-day life, they're not very obvious, just faintly different patterns that might make someone do a double take. only Foul Legacy and Childe have the privilege of seeing the carvings in all their magnificence- they fetch you something glowing and shiny, maybe a luminescent rock or a particular shiny firefly, or perhaps a tiny lantern burning with a safely contained flame. either way, you store it neatly away in your body, listening to it lightly clatter and bonk until stopping to rest. the light shines through your skin and makes the carvings glow with lovely, comforting warmth

Legacy chitters and chirps gleefully, circling you in excitement and gently nosing against your arms and hands, tilting his head until he's practically upside down. he needs to examine the patterns from all angles! even if he knows they'll be wonderful every time, he just likes watching the light softly gleam from inside. you're like a lamp, or even a nightlight! he sits you on his lap and presses his cheek against your head, crystalline eye bright and wide as he nips lightly at your hands, asking for headpats. Legacy's a bit too heavy to rest his head in your own lap, but Childe isn't, and you can bet that the moment he returns to being human that the Harbinger is flopping himself into your arms, nuzzling against you and admiring the light over your arms with a happy, peaceful hum

[collectivecloseness]

omg so hopping on the being kidnapped by yan!f4 train imagine a couple of days after they’re all trying to be super nice to you, as if that’d make up for what they’re doing. Including Nancy, although I’m not sure if she’d be avoidant or extra attentive

A kiss for you too anon mwah. You’re absolutely right this needs to be talked about

After the initial couple of days of screaming and crying and fighting and all that angst, from you and the other four, they’re trying to lighten things up. Since you’ll be staying here for a long time, they want you to get used to living with them! To know as quickly as possible that they really are going to look after you now you’re home and they do love you, they’re sorry they were too scared to tell you sooner.

They all try to bring you things, whether that’s necessities like water and food, or simple nice things like a tv, some clothes from your home, some games - nothing you can use to contact outside though sorry, think of it like one of those detox’s they’ll say.

Items like that, but also gifts. You were lavished with gifts when they were trying to court you anyway, some you’d didn’t even know were their doing. But now they’re physically trying to hold themselves back from piling it on.

Yeah if you’d just joined their home like normal, choosing to get into the relationship after they won over your hearts in the way they were hoping to, they’d be piling the gifts so high you wouldn’t even be able to move in your brand new bedroom. But because of these circumstances, they don’t want you to think they’re trying to buy your affection/trust/forgiveness/love. They absolutely want to gift you everything ever the universe has to offer, but they’re aware everything is still a lot for you right now.

You might not be exactly in the mood for presents. They don’t want you ripping up a top they got you, using this new lamp to throw at their head (every lamp has been removed from your room now), using a pocketknife meant for protection by your lovers to help you escape from your lovers.

They’re not stupid, or emotionally unintelligent. They’re aware gifts are not even any sort of priority for you right now, actually with the way you’re acting they may just make you more pissed. So they save some lovely already gift wrapped items in their closets. Holding off booking that date at the new restaurant you haven’t been able to afford yet. Hoping that new movie stays in theatres long enough they don’t have to wait a year for a video release for you.

Definitely still they do give you presents. But not nearly as many as they’d smother you with if everything was perfect and lovey dovey and domestic harmony, and not like this.

They’re all trying so hard to be nice and helpful and kind. They really are.

And they won’t stop doing so for you, no matter how you act towards them, they understand, and it’s their jobs to not act even worse now, to be better no matter how you react to them.

After the initial couple of days of calming you, trying to explain your new life for now while you’re temporarily not quite understanding the situation that they themselves are in; it’s okay, they get it, they didn’t expect things to turn out this way either, it’s alright to feel upset, but they promise they’ll look after you; and also whilst planning amongst themselves how to keep you here and what the fuck they are gonna do now, they can at least prioritise from keeping you here and calm enough not to hurt yourself or anyone trying to escape, to trying to look after you emotionally and physically on every other level.

One of the ways they do that is they start decorating your brand new bedroom! Because unfortunately, they didn’t have time to do that before you moved in, which they are not happy about. Again, they are still mad at Nancy, for the situation she’s put all five of you in.

They bring new things in to spice up your room every day, someone having to be waiting by the door, because while Eddie might walk in with his arms full of posters, Steve has to grab you midair as you launch yourself through the opening. Eddie once had to wrestle you up into his grip and off your feet when you scratched Robin’s face up. The time you hid behind the door to leap out was scary too, for them, but Robin was waiting a few feet outside your entrance, physically blocking your path, when Steve had been knocked on his ass after being tricked into thinking the room was somehow completely empty.

But once the door’s closed again it’s okay. They’ll take you beating at their chest or yanking their hair out, and they know you won’t really try and hurt them (until the lamp incident... And unknowing that you’re seriously considering hostage taking at some point).

Nancy went through a catalogue with you months ago, back when you two were ‘friends’, just for fun she said, but it was to find your favourite wallpaper. She planned for the future back then, Steve sniped. But when talking to you, Steve asks if your favourite is still the same, but if not he’ll go through a different one with you! You can pick! Him and Robin even go together after work to get some of those paint colour sample cards.

You momentarily think about eating the pages from the catalogue, just to see if it’ll help your escape in anyway. At least instilling panic in the others that you’ll never be happy here, might work - it also might make things much worse. So that, and the worry if they’ll even take you to a doctor if something did happen, stops you from going to town on the paper. That and you really don’t want Steve’s fingers in your mouth, not when he’s secretly been this obsessed with you, even if it did meant you could bite him till it hurt.

Cuddly toys are something they think about getting, as you can’t hurt anyone or threaten to hurt yourself with them. The time you did threaten that last thing, they...

But at least you’ll have some comfort. Something soft and picked to be personable for you and safe. Something you can use for catharsis, talk to, cuddle, keep as a security blanket; especially when you won’t use them. And especially when you have so many nightmares, and you won’t let them help you when they come to wake you up, not even a little bit. That really kills them.

Maybe after hugging the toy they picked out for you, you’d eventually start to hug them finally again too. They also think about adding a scent of theirs into the toy.

Eddie was actually keeping a stuffed toy packed away as one of his many presents, to give you when you were feeling better, so he was a little annoyed when Robin went and straight up gave you one herself. She probably should have thought it through, finding the stuffing all shredded, shoved underneath your bedroom door, almost made her tear up. Although the four hearing you angrily bark that you’d set it on fire if you could was more horrifying...

Maybe they’d prefer if it was only them you could get hugs and comfort from right now. You’re also still not exactly giving a warm welcome to many of their gifts.

They can’t exactly bring much from your home, since you’re technically a missing person, but they get everything they can! Swapping from your old home to your new one here and there, over time. It’s alright anyway, even though they want to give you things from home to help soothe your transition, to help you stay connected to you. They know your personality soooo well, they know exactly what to get for your room! Even if there is some bickering over some of the interior design details.

The gang remember you pointing out how you liked a unique set of drawers, in the bedroom of your favourite character in a movie you were watching. They looked it up after the movie night, but the furniture didn’t actually exist, just a set piece. Eddie, Steve and Robin work really hard on creating that piece for you in the garage, a print of it hanging on the wall as they put their Hawkins High woodwork classes to use. They’re worried you won’t accept your gift if Nancy’s ‘tainted it’, after you had a pretty harsh ‘conversation’ with her the day they begin that project.

You bursting into tears at the sight of it when they happily present it to you in your room after weeks of dedicated work, was not at all the reaction they were wanting for you...

But they do try so so hard to perfect your bedroom. Not only is it going to be your room forever (well, unless you all move in your future), but at the moment, you’re going to be spending a lot of time in there. They add onto your room little by little nearly every day, to show their love for you constantly. Their dedication to making this work. That you are a part of their home now, this isn’t just a phase, they’re not going to throw you out like garbage. They promise you of that.

But also, Eddie desperately tells the others he wants you to keep your personality, your individuality, for you to keep being who you are. Not just ‘their love’, but you. He doesn’t want you to change, he reminds them none of them do, and he wants you to always know you’re still you, you don’t have to be reduced just because one freedom is temporarily restricted right now.

You’re not a mindless hostage, and if they ever sense they’ve begun to make you feel like that then they’ll have failed, they all decree to each other there and then.

It’s good Eddie is very emotionally intelligent. Of fucking course they all agree with him. But the larger details are something they can forget about, when keeping you safe at home is so prevalent on their minds.

Minor details of additional door locks, or the threat of having to create rules, or not being able to talk to other friends and family longer and longer, are not meant to chip away at you into becoming a traumatised and hopeless zombie.

Sure, Nancy is beaming the first time you let her sit on the corner of your bed, and Steve nearly cries when he manages to give you his shirt to change into and you don’t attack him (you didn’t notice it was his). But when they notice you disassociating, or losing hope and thrive for life (not survival, but the joys of being), or catatonically agreeing with thing’s from overwhelming grief, they immediately switch up just a little bit. They like you not hating them, they don’t like you becoming a shell of yourself.

Nancy accidentally used the term ‘middle ground’ once when talking about this, and Eddie actually flipped the coffee table over. She hadn’t meant it like that. They were all some type of exhausted, but they understood you must feel worse. I mean they really do empathise with you, they’re your soulmates so of course they love and understand you. And they realise they have each other, and right now you’re fighting that, you think you’re all alone.

They’d rather you swear at them with the same witty comebacks you’d use in a drunken fake argument, or to scare off bullies harassing them, see that fire and fight and stubbornness they fell in love with, hell that even made them feel safe, rather than you not reacting at all. They just want you to love them again. They’ll work so hard on it, because they know they would do anything. Shit, after nearly losing you and each other in the Upside Down, multiple times, having you here safe with them is more than enough for them to fight for your future together. Fight for you.

Robin hates what she’s done, or rather what she’s doing. She doesn’t want to emotionally or psychologically torture you either. Even though she’s trying to displace herself a little bit from her actions. Her mind is usually a little all over the place, but she’s making lists of what favourite foods and drinks they have of yours in house, and when something is low on stock so someone needs to pick it up soon, it all helps her feel like she’s helping you. Even if you tell her to her face you don’t feel like she is.

Robin’s really glad to have Steve as her boulder here, like he always is. To remind her that you don’t really mean it, you don’t hate her, you are just upset, and Robin- they all understand why you are. Robin likes being there for Steve too. She knows he needs her love and support just as much as she needs his, and especially when you’re not accepting their love and support at all, it’s nice for them to be able to be there for each other in this horrible period of transition right now.

Even though Nancy tries to add her own ideas to the plans they all have to make now, shes definitely vetoed from speaking a few times by the other three.

They keep apologising for her to you, but slowly, they start to bring Nancy into the room with them as well, so you can get used to her as well as the others, since they all really do wanna work this relationship out with you. So you can all be a happy family.

Yeah Nancy messed up, and not only do they understand you might not want to see her, especially after she hit you what the fuck, but they also don’t want her anywhere near you sometimes. One of the only things they want in life is to protect you, and Nancy broke that promise they silently made to you when they first fell in love. If she was anyone else, this would be majorly different, but she’s their partner and part of their family. They still love her, and they know no matter what she loves you too. They really do want everything to work out in domestic bliss between you all :’) <3

Every time Nancy’s come in your room you’ve at least utilised the others against her. Sure apparently they won’t turn her in and set you free, but your comfort is seemingly soooo important to them, to the level they’ll at least tell her to leave your room, when you beg up at them to pull at their heartstrings.

You absolutely try some psychological manipulation wherever you can, with each of them individually. In fact sometimes you’ll ask for one of them alone, when two or three of them come in. Because not only is that person honoured and feeling more protective over you in a way, more like they are the only one who can help you, but it allows you to wiggle your way into their minds and souls a lot easier; whilst also making whoever you do turn away feel like they should do more to make them be the person you go to with your needs next.

You’ll try pulling them apart from each other, tearing down any semblance of this ‘family’, or you’ll see if you can strengthen their bond but without Nancy, or anyone you think is more of a threat - you’ll try and analyse your best options of getting out of here over and over. Of course, only some of those plans include you being nice to one or a few of the others. Some don’t include them at all, or... play on the thought you might have to be not very nice to them at all. But you really don’t want to think about seriously hurting them. Not just these couple of days, or even weeks, in yet.

You’re betrayed, but you still emotionally feel like they’re your best friends. You went through all that trauma with the Upside Down and everything trying to save them, you know everything about them, and how harsh their lives have been, it hurts to view them in a light that makes them less human, or less deserving of your empathy, but just because you don’t want to seriously life threateningly injure them, not at this stage, especially when you have so many other options, doesn’t mean you won’t stop fighting to get out.

Although fighting means being smart. Sometimes it means not trying to get out right that second. But sometimes it also means making sacrifices. Sacrificing a part of yourself by doing things you’d never dream of, or hurting someone because they hurt you first. And they’ll keep doing so. They did this, they’re still doing it, you have to put you first, you have to survive.

But if anything, you really don’t want to be like them.

[boltedfruit]

A super fun commission for @jo-harrington and their fic! Go read it! Featuring 80s Pizza Hut decor~ 🍕

[lampylamperson]

Day 1: first meeting (oc x canon week by @hazbinocxcanon)

Short of my oc/sona Olivia x sinner!Adam

It was only a couple days after the fight against the exterminators,Olivia staying back at the new hotel before heading back up to the lust ring for her own life,mostly staying back for her own family,Charlie and Lucifer is questionable states now

“Are you sure you’re gonna go to bed so early poppy?” Lucifer asked Olivia,placing his drink down at the bar that was long abandoned by husk and the rest of the staff

“Early? Luci it’s nearly midnight! I think you should go to bed,it’s been a long day and only god knows what youve been through today” she said sympathetic picking her uncle up off the bar

“Would you like me to walk you to your tower?”

“Heh! No sweet heart your fine,I should’ve gone to bed a long time ago and so should you,enjoy your rest hun”

“Will do uncle”

With that they headed their seperate ways,Olivia heading back to a room in the hotel she had been staying in for the previous days to help with the new hotels residency and making everyone feel right back at home

She had changed into pjs,and layed down,scrolling through sinstagram while she layed down before she heard wings flapping from the top of the roof,whatever it was landing on the balcony to her room

She instinctively played asleep,as the taps came into the room making its way infront of her

It was…Adam?! But he’s a sinner now?? Was he reincarnated,what was he doing.

Well that last question does have an answer…

After the fight with the exterminators Olivia had taken Adam’s guitar axe thingy,finding it interesting and obviously up for grabs now as its owner was deceased..so Adam mut be back for his shit…

Olivia instinctively gasped and started to scream before she was tackled with a hand to her mouth on her own bed

“Just-just shut up for 5 fucking seconds I’m not gonna hurt anyone!”

“Get off of me you fucking cunt!” She yelled using her legs to push him up and off of her,

he banged against the wall and trembled as she lit a fire at the edge of her fingers in a gun motion up against his neck

“Seriously you hot bitch! I don’t wanna hurt anyone I just want my shit!”

“You swear your not hear to hurt anyone?”

He let his mask flicker off him,as it seemed to be more of a hologram than a real mask like before

“I swear…” he said putting her hand down and blowing out the fire

“Hello kitty pajama pants? Nice choice” he said with a douchey grin

“Fuck you I look stunning right now”

[writing-fanics]

bruh, hearing the king of puppets recording even tho I already knew what happens had me tearing up.

now it got me imagining if romeo’s lover overheard it and heard him.

‘and y/n my love my Juliet’

(she would always quote Shakespeare because of his name)

she just breaks down crying, as he tells her how much he loves her before it all goes static. she never felt more empty in her entire life. she wanted nothing more than to see him again and hear his voice have him by her side.

but he was gone she’d never see him again, she’d never hear his voice, feel his arms around her. She’s never feel that warmth he brought along with him ever again.

she just wanted to be with him

the tragedy of romeo and Juliet

I should write this

[completeoveranalysis]

[2]

I mean I’m sure they’ll tell us the specifics later but it sure does LOOK like Syaoran collapsed Evil Wolverine’s pocket dimension and left him stranded here and exposed, with a stab wound. 

I do like that!

Is his whole lair gone or was he just kicked out of it? It’s dramatic enough that I could believe it was all destroyed with a spell that big. 

Did Evil Wolverine lose all his self-branded merch?! The truest horror.

If we’re still talking about parallels let’s throw in Infinity when Fai stabs Sakura and Kurogane yells at him not to pull out the sword, because that makes it so much worse. But Fai, panicking in grief, does it anyway. 

AND HERE WE ARE, Syaoran is stabbed, and Evil Wolverine pulls out the sword deliberately to do more damage out of pure rage for whatever Syaoran just did.

It’s also absolutely wild that there is this much blood pouring out of Syaoran on screen and Evil Wolverine still is not permitted to say a swear word.