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harryspet · 5 months

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bambi eyes (3) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 3.4k

In which you do your best to deal with your Daddy's mood swings.

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bambi eyes masterlist

You felt like you were seeing Rafe less and less as the next two weeks went on. He was stressed about what was going on with work. He often paced back and forth in front of you, ranting, although he was never specific about the details of what was going on.

You noticed that he grabbed you tighter, pushed you harder into the mattress, and talked less during sex whenever something outside was affecting him. You were starting to accept it; it never hurt too much, and you’d be more scared if he weren’t interested in you in that way. If he didn’t want to be intimate with you, then there was a chance he wouldn’t want you anymore.

As much as Rafe promised you this was permanent, you couldn’t fully believe him. He had done all of this just for you, so you had to be able to offer him something special in return.

Like Rafe wanted, you established a routine. Every morning the birds would wake you up exactly at eight, and you’d make your bed which kept you from napping all day. Staying in your room was causing your imagination to stretch. You found new ways to entertain yourself, including trying on all the clothes in your wardrobe and throwing elaborate tea parties with all your stuffed animals and dolls.

One night that you thought would be like the last twelve nights, Rafe came to you after Lana had already brought you dinner. He wasn’t dressed in his usual khakis and dress shirt but in sweatpants and a pullover. You were curled up on the window seat, drawing flowers in a notebook, when Rafe came over to join you.

“Hi,” You spoke softly. He placed a warm hand on your knee, and you slowly closed your notebook.

“Hi, baby,” There was an ease and calmness to his voice that made you believe he’d actually had a good day, “What are you working on? Show me.”

You sat up, leaning closer, as you handed him the notebook. You hid slightly behind your knees as Rafe began to flip through the pages. At this point, you’d covered half of the pages in your doodles, “Oh wow, these are really pretty, Bambi,” He smiled with his entire face, including his bright eyes, “We should hang some of these on the fridge.”

You felt a bit of relief, hearing that he liked him, “I have more. Way more. I’ve colored a lot of the coloring books.”

“Go get them, I’ll pick my favorites,” Excitedly, you got up from the window seat. When you set several full coloring books in his lap, Rafe’s lips parted in shock, “Okay, wow, I don’t think I realized how much coloring you’d been doing.”

“I think it’s fun,” You said.

“Good, I want you to have fun,” Rafe nodded, “But have you worn down all your color pencils? How come you haven’t asked for more?”

You shrugged when Rafe gave you an inquisitive look, “I try to take care of the ones I have.”

“Would you even ask Daddy for more coloring books if you ran out of pages to color?”

“Maybe,” You spoke honestly.

The idea of asking for more than what Rafe had already given you did make your heart race. Rafe shook his head at something, “Daddy will get you lots more art supplies. Maybe you could try painting?”

“We could paint together?” You perked up.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rafe assured you, “I’m really, really sorry I haven’t been here as much as I’ve wanted to. Needed to, really. It’s just … I’m working on a lot of things right now, you know?”

“I’ve been okay,” You said, “Lana has been kind to me.”

“Good, good, I want you to be happy here, you know? That’s why I want you comfortable asking for things,” You watched Rafe’s eyes wander towards the bookshelf, “Like your books. I never see you reading them. Do you not like them?”

“I do,” You said quickly.

Rafe started to stare deeply at you, “What-what is it?”

“I . . . “

“I can pick some different ones for you? What do you like?”

“I like it when you read to me, Daddy,” Rafe tilted his head and the mentioning of his nickname didn’t light up his features like usual, “It’s hard for me. I never needed to … do that.”

He paused, which made you think you’d done something wrong, “You’ve never needed to read?”

“I can do it,” You said, “It’s hard when they’re all together, and there’s so many… the words. I’m sorry you think I don’t like the books you picked. I really do. I will try harder–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe rushed to put the coloring books aside and grab ahold of your face, “I just didn’t know, that’s it. You didn’t do anything wrong. At all.”

It wasn’t something you’d ever felt embarrassed about, but now you couldn’t help but feel stupid. Deep down, you felt a guy like Rafe deserved someone better. He deserved someone smarter than you.

You closed your eyes, wanting to hang your head, but Rafe said, “Look at me, hey,” Weakly, you did, “I’ve been thinking that you should spend more time with Lana instead of being cooped up in here. At least until I can take care of this … one problem I have. She’d be happy to have some company. And, if you want to learn, she could help you with your reading.”

“You don’t care?”

“Not at all, look, don’t worry. I’ve got you, sweet girl,” He said. Rafe leaned in to peck your nose before he brought your lips together. You melted into him, realizing then how much you missed him when he was gone, “You know what I was thinking?”

You stared back at Rafe, who had a mischievous look in his eye.

“We should take the boat out.”

“Now? Where?”

“Just on a short ride to get you some fresh air. It’ll be cold, so let’s find you some warmer clothes, yeah?”

It was a rhetorical question; Rafe was already making his way over to your wardrobe. You looked down at the small silk pajama set you were wearing. You’d seen all the boats out by the dock but hadn’t imagined that Rafe would take you out on one. “Lift your arms,” You did exactly as he said, pulling a light blue sweatshirt over your head. He also chose long pajama bottoms, helping you get into those, too, “You want to bring one of your stuffies?”

Your excitement mixed with your anxiety as you put on your slippers. It was a hard decision to make about which stuffed animal you wanted to bring, but you settled on Fin, your silvery-blue dolphin, “Excellent choice.”

Rafe grabbed your hand, leading you downstairs, “Do you think we’ll see a real dolphin?”

“Well, they tend to be more active during the day, and it’ll be dark soon … but maybe if you wish really, really hard.”

The air was much cooler outside than you expected, and you certainly didn’t expect it to feel so strange being in the fresh air. You turned in a circle just so you could take in the sky, the trees, the house, and everything around you.

You followed a determined Rafe across the yard and towards the deck. He chose one of the smaller boats, although there was room for at least four more people. You yelped when Rafe grabbed you by your waist suddenly and lifted you inside. Another yelp escaped your lips as the boat rocked under the pressure of your weight, “You’re okay, don’t worry,” He didn’t have to tell you to take a seat or be still; you decided you wouldn’t move at all, “One . . . moment.”

You watched through the corner of your eyes as Rafe untied the roaps keeping the boat tethered to the dock. The boat rocked again as Rafe hopped inside, causing you to grip Fin in one hand and grip the side of the boat in the other.

You sat in the seat right across from Rafe as the boat slowly pulled off towards deeper water. As the boat became more steady, you turned your head and watched Tannyhill get smaller and smaller. The orange and blue sky reflected off the water, creating an insanely beautiful view. You sailed towards the horizon, the son looking half submerged in the water, “How do you feel?” Rafe yelled over the sound of the motor, “Wanna go faster?”

You nodded, a smile growing on your face, “My little daredevil, huh?” You sat up on your knees, wanting to see more. You get a better look at Figure 8, seeing lots of huge houses along the beach, although none of them compare to Tannyhill. Rafe pointed out different landmarks for you, including the country club and a huge lighthouse out in the water. In your eyes, this night made every other night where you worried about your place with Rafe worth it.

“Go ahead, you can give it a taste test,” Lana conceded, allowing you to dip your finger into the chocolate cake batter. A few days after your night out with Rafe, Lana was showing you how to make the perfect chocolate cake. You thought she might be exaggerating about how perfect it was until you were licking your finger. An excited moan left your mouth and you bounced on the balls of your feet, “It’s great, isn’t it? Espresso powder is the key.”

“It really is,” You agreed.

“Now, wash your hands. It’s time to pour our batter.”

The entire day Lana had told you exactly what to do and how to do it. You didn’t mind listening or following her directions as she usually spoke to you warmly. Besides that, you wanted to learn exactly how to take care of things around the house, knowing that Rafe would appreciate your help when Lana couldn’t be here. The two of you cleaned the entire downstairs, did several loads of laundry, washed the windows in the glass patio, and even had time for a reading lesson in the early morning. She informed you that she homeschooled her youngest son and that she would try to teach you in a similar way.

As you washed your hands, you glanced out the side window towards the dock. You could see Rafe far out on the dock, standing with the same business associate who came to the house a few weeks ago. They weren’t alone like you were expecting; someone was on their knees a few feet ahead of them, their head slumped over. You squinted your eyes, trying to see more of them, although Rafe and his business associate shouting at each other blocked your view, “What are they doing out there? Who’s that?” Lana came over to where you were standing, peeking out just like you were.

Whatever business Rafe was involved in, Lana didn’t seem to care for it, “Mr. Cameron and Barry, they’re always at each other’s throats,” She shook her head, “Come, dry your hands. The oven is heated.”

You did as she said, turning your head away. There were going to be several layers to your cake, meaning you had three pans to fill, and after that, you and Lana would make the icing. Just as your mind wandered back to Rafe, you heard him coming through the kitchen door.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pacing for a moment before his dark eyes landed on you, “Bambi, let’s … uhm, go upstairs,” His voice was shaky and deeper than normal, “Come here.”

“We’re-We’re just about to put the cake in the oven. It’s for tonight, and we’re going to make homemade icing too–”

“Now …please,” He said the last word like it was painful, “It’s time for you to go back to your room.”

No, no, no, a voice repeated in your head.

“But Lana was going to teach me how to ice the cake, too and she —”

“Fine,” Rafe snapped, his hand slamming against the counter before he rolled his eyes, “Just stay here.”

As Rafe stomped away, you knew you had something horribly wrong. You’d seen him in a similar mood before but he never directed any of his vitriol towards you before. Whatever had happened on the dock had clearly upset him. You really wanted to finish working with Lana. More than anything, you didn’t want to be locked in your room for another long period of time.

After taking a breath, or attempting to take one, you turned to Lana, “I didn’t mean… I-I should go say sorry.”

“You might want to let him calm down a little bit, sweetheart,” You’d already made up your mind. You reached behind your neck to undo the top of your apron, “Turn around, let me help you. He’s not mad at you.”

“How do you know?”

“I know who he is,” She spoke simply, “Don’t take anything too personally with Mr. Cameron.”

“You can finish without me; I’m sorry, but thank you for today,” You said as you started to walk away. After you saw her nod, a sad smile on her face, you turned away and sped for the stairs.

You approached Rafe’s bedroom moments later, hesitantly turning the knob, “Daddy?” You called, peeking inside. You called him again. He wasn’t in the main room but the shower was running in the bathroom, “Rafe?”

You jumped when he suddenly appeared in the bathroom doorframe, shirtless and his belt undone. This time, you notice his bruised hands and bloody knuckles.

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, Daddy.”

“Get down on your knees,” He stared you down. When you tried to come closer, he said, “No, drop to your knees right there.”

You felt your knees brush against the bedroom rug, “Crawl to me.”

If Rafe wanted you to feel even smaller, then his plan was successful. You did as he said, seeing no other option, and crawled towards him. You watched as he palmed himself over his briefs, and you could already feel him stretching you, pulling your hair, and leaving marks on your bottom. This wouldn’t last, you told yourself; he would be gentle with you another time.

Your sage dress had ridden up your body, exposing your floral patterned white panties.

“You’re gonna suck my cock and swallow all my cum. And then you’re gonna thank Daddy for letting you.”

You’d do exactly as your Daddy wanted, hoping he’d take your sore throat and tears as a sufficient apology.

Once you were soundly asleep in his bed, Rafe slipped out. He had a huge, bloody problem waiting for him in the cabin of his boat. Luckily, JJ Maybank was still the degenerate he used to be, and no one except his Pogue girlfriend would come looking for him anytime, “Son of a bitch isn’t talking,” Barry grunted out, meeting Rafe at the beginning of the dock, “Knocked two of his bottom teeth out and he’s still not motivated.”

Rafe had done everything possible to limit any competition he might face in Kildare. All small-time dealers would be working for someone who worked for Rafe. This was meant to be Rafe’s island yet somehow, Maybank was getting supplies from the mainland and was stealing his customers.

“We could take his girl.”

Rafe contemplated Barry’s question before shaking his head, “If she comes around trying to find him, we might have no choice. I’m sure that will motivate him.”

Rafe could see Barry’s eyes wandering to Kie. Part of him would love to see JJ squirm if they got their hands on her. You were the reason he didn’t think too long about that. Barry, on the other hand, Rafe would let him do whatever he wanted with Kie. In the end, Rafe wanted JJ to talk, to give up his sources, but he’d be just fine killing him.

“I hope,” Barry crossed his arms, “Not exactly looking forward to dealing with the body.”

“We don’t have to deal with that shit anymore; I know who to pay to handle it,” Rafe said, “Speaking of, I think I-uh need some more security here. I want guards all around the perimeter. Because of the amount of merchandise and if we’re going to be taking captives, you know. I want this place to be a fortress.”

“Your merchandise, huh?” Barry flashed Rafe a knowing look, “You got any liquor in that big house?”

Rafe gestured his head toward the house, signaling to Barry to follow behind him.

“If Kie doesn’t come for him and if he still has no information to offer us, we kill him. No more torture, no mess, one gunshot to the temple,” Rafe instructed, his mind racing with what their next moves should be. The more planning beforehand, the better, and the less likely it would come back to them, “That’ll send a message to the rest of the Pogues too. They work for me, or they work for no one.”

“And after you’ve cornered the market?”

“That’s just the start of everything else,” Rafe led Barry through the first floor, towards his office. Ward always used to keep his office stocked with liquor as it came in handy for important meanings. Rafe learned people will often let down their barriers and concede to more under the influence of alcohol. He opened the door for him, allowing him to enter.

“Whoa,” Barry said, walking inside just as Rafe heard a soft gasp from a familiar voice. Eyebrows raised, Rafe entered behind him to find what had shocked him, “Is this the new Mrs. Cameron?”

With wide eyes, Rafe took you in. You were in the same clothes Rafe left you in, one of his white button-ups and your knee-high socks, “What are you doing down here?” You slowly stepped behind Rafe’s desk, and he could tell you were trying to hide yourself.

“I-I couldn’t find you.”

Rafe’s jaw jutted forward, his arms crossed, as he said, “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Your lips parted to say something, but Barry interrupted, “C’mon, man, it’s not even midnight! Introduce me to your girl. We can all have a drink,” He grabbed ahold of Rafe’s shoulder. You would think Barry had one the lottery based on the look in his eyes. By complete accident, Barry had stumbled on Rafe’s biggest treasure, “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“She doesn’t drink.”

Rafe was frustrated, mostly because he should’ve been keeping closer track of you. He’d given you that necklace for a reason. A new idea crossed his mind, one he wasn’t expecting, and some of his anxiety eased. He was far from embarrassed of you, he’d chosen you for a reason, but part of Rafe wanted Barry to envy him at that moment.

Rafe sighed, waving you closer to the two of them, “Bambi, this is Barry. Barry, this is Bambi,” Smoothly, Rafe grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you into him.

“Hi,” You said shyly, “It’s nice to meet you.”

When Barry held his hands out to you, your eyes darted towards Rafe as if to ask permission. Agreement crossed his face, and Rafe watched you shake his hand. Barry was fully taking you in, of course, but Rafe knew a handshake would be the extent of his closeness with you.

“The pleasure is all mine, beautiful.”

“Chill out, dude. Sit down,” Rafe instructed Barry, pulling you along.

Barry made himself comfortable on the leather couch and Rafe motioned you to sit across in one of the leather chairs.

“How you liking Kildare?”

“It’s really nice,” Rafe heard you respond as he poured two glasses of whiskey for him and Barry, “There’s so many big houses, and … it’s just really pretty.”

“You ain’t seen much then, have you?” Rafe handed Barry his glass, flashing a warning with his eyes, “All the girls where you’re from, they as pretty as you?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” You laughed nervously.

Rafe placed a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him, “Why don’t you go get Barry a slice of that chocolate cake you made?”

Rafe assumed it would ease your nervousness if you could share what you made. “Okay, Daddy,” You smiled at both men, and both men watched you closely as you walked out of the room, “I’ll be right back.”

“Pretty and obedient,” Barry whistled, “I need to travel more.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for your support on the first two chapters BUT psa you will not be added to my taglist if you're not reblogging the fic and letting me know your thoughts! It is crazy to me that people will ask me to tag them in the next chapter when they have neither liked nor reblogged the fic. Constructive feedback is more encouraging than just commenting "PART 4" or "tag me in part 4" :)

PART 4

#dark fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction

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totheblood · 7 months

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begging for rain. (three)

󠁐# THREE; the harder that it takes to undo

PAIRING: ex!ellie williams x nextdoorneighbor!reader

SUMMARY: moving to a new town can be tough, especially as you are trying to hold everything in your life together. after you meet ellie, your life completely changes, but for the better? well that's still up in the air

WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x,

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

A/N : ok this was the longest chapter i've written to date so... please enjoy.... ONE AI AUDIOS IN THE FIC ! please please please like and reblog/reply/send asks, comments, the whole nine yards… it is so appreciated!

TWO YEARS AGO

It felt weird to be in Ellie’s house.

Ellie opened the door to a cozy living room with warm beige walls and wicker furniture that had been well-worn by time. An old acoustic guitar leaned against one wall and a record player sat atop an end table, surrounded by piles of vintage vinyl. The air was thick with the aroma of coffee and old books, creating a comforting ambiance. Family photos and posters dotted the walls, giving an insight into Ellie's life that made you feel like a intruder but also made you want to know more.

"Nice place," you said, removing your shoes at the door.

"Thanks," Ellie smiled, leading you to the living room. "You can drop your stuff there. We'll study at the table."

You took a seat at the sturdy oak dining table and ran your fingers over its smooth surface before settling into it. Scattered papers littered the table, some lined with handwritten lyrics, others with doodles intertwined in colored ink. You opened up your English books and laid out your homework, feeling a sense of warmth emanating from the room. The aged furniture added an air of familiarity, like you were being invited into Ellie's private world. Ellie seemed to be working on physics homework, while you had an English essay on Shakespeare to tackle. The juxtaposition wasn't lost on you—Ellie with equations and you with Elizabethan English.

You both settled into your work, the atmosphere tinged with concentration. Occasionally, your eyes would drift towards Ellie, watching her brows furrow in thought or her lips move silently as she read through her notes. Each time, you'd catch yourself and refocus on your own work.

"So, how are you finding the essay?" she finally broke the silence.

"It's... okay, I guess. Mrs. Porter has a way of making Shakespeare sound like rocket science."

Ellie chuckled. "Ah, the age-old struggle. To be or not to be confused, that is the question."

You laughed, and for a moment, the tension of the day seemed to lift. "You're not so bad at this, you know," you said. "Maybe you should consider a career in stand-up."

"And give up my dream of becoming a rockstar physicist?" she feigned surprise. "Never."

You smiled at her enthusiasm. "A rockstar physicist, huh? That's a first."

"Well, what about you? Any grand plans?"

You hesitated, thinking about your dad for a moment. You blinked, looking down at the book in front of you before looking back up at Ellie. "I'm not sure. I used to think I had it all figured out, but now... everything's so uncertain."

Ellie put down her pen and looked at you, her green eyes softening. "Uncertainty isn't always bad, you know. Sometimes it's just room for something new, something better."

You looked at her, really looked at her, and felt something shift inside you. "That's pretty wise for a 17-year-old."

She blushed a little, turning her attention back to her notebook. "Well, don't spread it around. I have a reputation to maintain. Plus, I’m almost 18."

The rest of the study session went smoothly. You’d occasionally sigh and drop your head in frustration, making Ellie stifle a giggle and demand you get back to work. You had only known her for a day and was already falling into a rhythm with her. You didn’t want to go home, but the sun was beginning to set and you wanted time to rest. Time to think about the day you had and try to make sense of it. When it was time to leave, Ellie walked you to the door.

"Thanks for coming over. It was fun," she said, her hands twisting together.

"Yeah, I had a good time too," you replied, feeling a strange mix of happiness and reluctance to leave.

As you stepped out into the cool evening air, Ellie's words echoed in your mind: "Uncertainty isn't always bad... it's just room for something new, something better." And as you walked back across the dirt path to your house, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, something new and better had already begun.

You walked into your room, shutting the door behind you as if to seal off the world outside. It was your sanctuary, a little haven where you could breathe, think, and just be. You tossed your backpack onto the bed and sank into your chair, letting out a sigh as you looked around. Your room was still a mix of unpacked boxes and half-arranged furniture—a physical representation of your current state of mind, unsettled yet hopeful.

Picking up your phone, you noticed you had an unread Instagram DM. Your heart skipped a beat; could it be Ellie? Unlocking your phone, you saw the message was from Ingrid. Curiosity piqued, you opened.

ingrid.xoxo: Hey there, newbie. How was your first day?

You felt strange reading her message. Like it was something you weren’t supposed to be doing. Was she just being friendly or was there something more? You quickly typed back.

y/nsworld: hey! It was a little overwhelming but good overall. how was your day?

Almost instantly, she replied.

ingrid.xoxo: Same old, same old. But seeing a fresh face around made it more interesting. 😉

The winking emoji caught your attention. Was she flirting? A little flutter of excitement mixed with confusion settled in your stomach.

Before you could process it further, the front door opened and closed loudly. It was your mom, finally home from work. You heard her footsteps coming up the stairs, and a few seconds later, she knocked on your door.

"Come in," you called.

The door swung open and your mom stepped in, her face tired but lighting up when she saw you. "Hey, sweetheart. How was your first day at the new school?"

You looked at her and smiled. "It was good, Mom. Made some new friends, and Ellie from next door is really nice. I went there and studied after school."

"That's wonderful," she said, her eyes shining with relief. "I was so worried you'd have a hard time adjusting."

"I mean, it's still the first day, but so far, so good," you said, shrugging. The relief on your mom’s face made you uneasy. You wanted to make this transition easy for both of you, but there was a newfound pressure building inside of you. You had to make it work here, even if you were unhappy. There was no escaping this place, and you suddenly felt trapped. Before your mind could go any further, she was speaking again.

"That's my brave girl," she said, coming over to give you a hug. "I'm so proud of you."

As she left the room and wished you a goodnight with a firm kiss pressed to the top of your head, you sat back and sighed. Your phone buzzed again. Another message from Ingrid.

ingrid.xoxo: So, got any plans for the weekend? Maybe you'd like a tour guide to show you around. 😊

There it was again, that undercurrent of something more than just friendliness. You found yourself smiling, both intrigued and uncertain. It was as if life, in its own whimsical way, was presenting new possibilities, each more complicated than the last.

You glanced back at the door, then at your phone, then at the unpacked boxes still sitting in your room. Everything felt like a question mark, and as Ellie had wisely noted, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Lying back on your bed, you stared up at the ceiling, pondering your response to Ingrid, your new friendships, and the unpredictability of life itself. Uncertainty, as it turns out, could indeed be the room for something new, something better.

And so, with a mix of excitement and apprehension, you typed out your reply to Ingrid, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself.

y/nsworld: a tour guide sounds fun. i'm in. :)

PRESENT DAY

When Ellie's text popped up on your phone two days ago, you almost deleted it without reading it. The mere sight of her name on your screen was like a splinter you couldn't remove—small but persistently painful. She wrote that she missed your friendship, and though you wanted to scoff at her audacity, a part of you hesitated. Her words, "Can we at least talk? Just as friends?" echoed in your mind. Against your better judgment, a wave of nostalgia washed over you, and before you knew it, you found yourself typing, "Fine, but this doesn't mean anything." Now, as you stepped into the quaint coffee shop where so many of your past memories were brewed, you questioned that decision.

"You're early," Ellie remarked, her voice as flat as the expression on her face.

"I had nothing better to do," you responded, matching her tone as you stepped into the coffee shop. It was almost empty, the aroma of freshly ground coffee mingling with the subtle tension that had settled between you two.

"Of course, you didn't," Ellie sighed, sliding a cup of coffee your way across the wooden table. On it was marked with your order, two pumps of hazelnut, two pumps of vanilla, and one pump of almond, extra cream.

You looked at the cup, then back at Ellie. "You remembered how I like my coffee."

"I'm not completely useless."

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip while simultaneously biting your tongue. You had every right to tell her she was useless, but you refrained. It was perfect, just the way you liked it. "What do you want, Ellie?"

Ellie sighed, looking uncomfortable for a moment before speaking, "I wanted to talk. About us."

You almost snorted into your coffee. "Us? There is no 'us'. Not anymore."

"I know I messed up, okay? But can't we at least—"

"Messed up?" you cut her off, feeling the familiar surge of anger rise within you. "You didn't just 'mess up', Ellie. You broke something. Something that can't be fixed."

Ellie flinched as if you had slapped her. The look on her face almost making you feel guilty. But she didn’t have that right anymore, and you weren’t about to let her back in.

"I know. And I'll regret that for the rest of my life. But can't we at least try to be civil? For the sake of our friends, if not for us?"

You looked at her, really looked at her, and for a moment you were back in her living room, struggling with physics homework and discussing the uncertainties of life. Back when things were simpler, easier. But that was a different time, a different you, and most importantly, a different Ellie.

"Being civil is a far cry from what you're suggesting," you said finally, breaking the silence.

Ellie sighed. "I know I don't deserve a second chance. Hell, I don't even deserve your friendship. But can't we at least try to be... something?"

You stared at her, pondering her words. The Ellie sitting in front of you now seemed so different from the girl you had fallen for. And yet, there were moments, fleeting seconds, when you could almost see traces of the old Ellie—the one who made you laugh, who made you think, who made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

But those traces were just that—fleeting and insubstantial. The real Ellie, the one sitting in front of you, was a reminder of a chapter you had painfully closed.

"We can try," you said finally, "but I can't promise anything."

Ellie nodded, a mixture of relief and regret flashing across her face. "I guess that's all I can ask for."

As you both sipped your coffee in silence, the weight of what was left unsaid hung heavy in the air. And yet, for the first time in a long time, it felt like you could both breathe a little easier.

But as Ellie's eyes met yours, you couldn't help but wonder: in the quest for something new, something better, had you both lost something irreplaceable? There was something substantially broken between the two of you now, innocence on both parts lost.

TWO YEARS AGO

You found yourself standing in front of your bathroom mirror, staring at your reflection as you pondered what to wear for this so-called 'tour' with Ingrid. You wondered if you should aim for casual or if Ingrid, with her meticulous style, would expect something more. After rummaging through your wardrobe, you settled on a simple pair of jeans and a loose-fitting white shirt. Casual, yet presentable. You threw on a light jacket, considering the morning chill, and took one last look in the mirror. Satisfied but not entirely confident, you grabbed your phone and headed downstairs. Your mom was sitting at the dining room table, bowl of cereal in front of her with her spoon in one hand and phone in the other.

"Going out?" Your mom looked up from her phone, her eyes scanning your outfit.

"Yeah, a girl from school is showing me around town."

"Ah, great. Text me if you need anything." Her eyes returned to her phone, but not before you caught the fleeting look of relief. There the pressure was again, and in turn your sinking stomach.

"See you later, Mom," you said, heading for the door.

"Have fun, sweetheart!" she called out as you closed the door behind you.

As you approached Ingrid's car, you noticed her already leaning against it. She was wearing what could only be described as the epitome of 'casual chic'—ripped jeans, a designer top, and a pair of sunglasses perched effortlessly on her head. She looked up from her phone and greeted you with a broad, almost rehearsed, smile.

"Ready for your grand tour?" Ingrid inquired, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than you were comfortable with.

"Ready as I'll ever be," you replied, cautiously optimistic about the day ahead.

The interior of Ingrid's car was as meticulously maintained as her appearance. The leather seats were pristine, and the air was scented with something floral, bordering on overpowering. She started the engine, and you were off.

The first few minutes were filled with awkward silence. You sensed that Ingrid was waiting for you to initiate conversation, but you were too wrapped up in your thoughts to open your mouth to speak. Finally, she broke the ice.

"So, first stop, the infamous Longview Park. You'll love it—it's where everyone hangs out," she said, her voice tinged with enthusiasm that sounded slightly rehearsed.

"That sounds fun," you responded, forcing a smile.

As you drove through the town, Ingrid began to pepper you with questions. They started off harmless enough—questions about your old town, your interests, your favorite movies. But as the drive continued, the questions began to probe deeper.

"So, why did you move here? If you don't mind me asking," she added hastily, as though realizing she might be venturing into sensitive territory.

"My dad passed away. We couldn’t afford to live there anymore, so we had to move," you replied, trying to maintain composure. You had rehearsed this response, but it still felt like you were ripping off a Band-Aid every time you said it.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ingrid responded, her voice softening for the first time that morning. But before you could reply, she was off again. "Are you seeing anyone?"

The abrupt switch in topic caught you off-guard. "Uh, no, not right now," you stammered.

"Really? Someone as hot as you? I find that hard to believe," she said, her eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road.

"Um, thanks," you muttered, not entirely sure how to interpret the compliment.

Ingrid seemed to take your discomfort as a cue to change the subject. "We're almost at Longview Park. It's truly the heart of our community," she declared, as if rehearsed.

As you pulled into the parking lot of Longview Park, you took a deep breath. It was time to see what this 'heart of the community' was all about.

he car rolled to a stop, and Ingrid switched off the engine, her eyes twinkling like she was unveiling a secret treasure. "And here we are—Longview Park. It's like the social hub of our high school world."

You opened the car door and stepped out, looking around. The park was sizable, dotted with large oaks and willows that offered generous shade. A playground occupied one corner, bustling with the laughter of children, while a pond shimmered peacefully in the mid-morning sun. People were everywhere—jogging, playing Frisbee, or simply lounging on the grass. It had a communal feel.

Ingrid led you along a gravel path, her steps confident and rehearsed as if she'd walked this path a thousand times before. "See that gazebo over there?" she pointed, "That's like the unofficial meet-up spot for parties and hangouts. And over there is the infamous 'Lovers' Lane' where couples go to... well, you know."

Her words were punctuated with a suggestive wink that made you feel slightly uncomfortable. You chuckled nervously, trying to dispel the awkwardness.

As you walked, you couldn't help but notice the way people looked at Ingrid—long enough to show interest but not too long to risk her noticing. She seemed to command attention effortlessly, and you couldn't tell if it was her charisma or if you were completely missing something

"Everyone loves to be here on weekends," Ingrid continued, her tone casual but her eyes scanning the area, as if looking for someone or something in particular. "It's a great place to catch up with friends or make new ones. Like we're doing right now."

She shot you a smile, the kind that was meant to be endearing but felt slightly off-mark. You returned it nonetheless. "It's a nice place. Very... lively," you said, choosing your words carefully.

As you neared the pond, you spotted a familiar face sitting on one of the benches—Cat. And next to her, unmistakably, was Ellie. They seemed engrossed in conversation, their faces inches apart. A pang of something—was it jealousy?—stabbed at you, but you quickly brushed it aside.

"Hey, look who it is!" Ingrid's voice brought you back to reality. She had followed your gaze and was now staring directly at Ellie and Cat. "Want to go say hi?"

You hesitated. The last thing you wanted was an awkward run-in, but before you could voice your concerns, Ingrid had already started walking toward them.

"Hey Cat, Ellie!" she called out, her voice unnaturally high. Both heads turned in your direction, and the range of emotions that crossed their faces in that brief moment was unsettling—surprise, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"Hey Ingrid," Ellie finally spoke, her eyes meeting yours for a fleeting second before returning to Ingrid. "What brings you here?"

"Just giving our new resident a grand tour of Longview Park," Ingrid replied, her arm casually draping over your shoulder. You felt a shiver run down your spine but chose to ignore it.

"That's nice of you," Cat chimed in, her eyes narrowing slightly as they settled on you. You couldn't tell if she was being sincere or just sizing you up.

"Yeah, it's been fun," you said, forcing a smile. But your eyes met Ellie's once more, and the unspoken words hung heavily in the air between you.

"Well, we won't keep you," Ingrid said abruptly, as if sensing the tension. "Lots more to see. Come on," she tugged at your arm lightly, and you followed her back to the path, leaving Ellie and Cat behind.

As you walked away, you felt Ellie's gaze burning into your back. You wanted to look back, to catch one last glimpse of her, but you resisted. Whatever was or wasn't happening between you and Ellie would have to wait. Right now, you were on Ingrid's turf, and you couldn't help but feel like a pawn in a much larger game.

"Shall we continue?" Ingrid asked, breaking the silence.

"Sure," you replied, but your thoughts were already miles away.

The door clicked shut as you slid into the passenger seat, your thoughts still reeling from the encounter at the park. Ingrid revved up the engine and pulled away, humming softly to the beat of the song playing on the radio. You looked over at her, everything about her seemed staged.

"How did you like the park?" she asked, casting a quick glance in your direction.

"It was... interesting," you said cautiously. "It's a nice place, very lively. Lots of history, I imagine."

Ingrid chuckled. "Oh, you have no idea. It's like the theater of high school drama. Anything and everything happens there."

Her words hung in the air, and you couldn't help but feel like there was a deeper meaning behind them. But before you could ponder it further, your phone buzzed. Glancing down, you saw Ellie's name flash on the screen.

Ellie: hey. can we talk later?

You felt a mixed bag of emotions, but you were mostly nervous. You hadn’t taken the group's warning and hung out with Ingrid anyays. It wasn’t like she was two fingers deep inside of you, but with the way Cat and Ellie looked, it seemed that way. You were about to type a response when you noticed Ingrid's eyes flicking toward your phone screen, then back to the road.

"Who's that?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of curiosity.

"Just a friend," you said, choosing your words carefully. "We're supposed to catch up later."

"Oh," she responded, but you could sense a change in her demeanor, a tightening around her eyes. "Well, I hope I'm not keeping you from anything important."

"No, not at all," you reassured her, quickly typing a response to Ellie. "Sure, let's talk. Text me when you're free."

As you pressed send, you couldn't help but wonder about the timing. Why did Ellie want to talk now? And what was it about? Your thoughts were interrupted by Ingrid turning up the volume on the radio, her fingers drumming rhythmically on the steering wheel.

"So," she began, breaking the momentary silence, "we've covered quite a bit today. Any highlights?"

You pondered the question. "Well, the park was a highlight, I guess. It's always good to know where people hang out. Makes me feel less like an outsider."

Ingrid smiled, but there was something about it that made you uneasy. "You're not an outsider, you know. You're just new, and new can be exciting."

"Thanks," you said, your phone buzzing again. This time it was a text from your mom asking about your day.

Feeling the need to switch gears, you asked, "So, how long have you been living here? You seem to know everyone and everything."

"Born and raised," she declared proudly. "It has its pros and cons, but I like it. And yes, I do know a lot of people, but it's not hard when you grow up here. Everyone kind of knows everyone."

"That must be nice," you said, though a part of you wondered what it would be like to have that much history in one place—so many connections, but also so many ties that could bind you.

"Yeah," she paused, her expression turning serious. "But it can also be a bit suffocating, you know? Sometimes you just want to break free, start fresh somewhere new. Like you."

You looked at her, intrigued by this sudden glimpse into her thoughts. "Well, starting fresh isn't as glamorous as it seems. It has its own ups and downs."

"True," she conceded. "But at least it's a blank slate."

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed again. Another text from Ellie.

Ellie: i really need to talk to you. it's important.

This time, you couldn't ignore the urgency in her message. Something was up, something significant. You looked up to find Ingrid watching you, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, but her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

You hesitated, weighing your options. "Actually, I might need to cut our day short. Something's come up at home."

Ingrid's eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in them—disappointment, perhaps, or maybe something else.

"Of course," she said, finally breaking eye contact. "Life happens. Let's get you home."

You stepped out of Ingrid's car, waving goodbye as she drove off. Your phone buzzed as you approached your front door, another text from Ellie.

Ellie: can you meet me at the grind? it’s about two blocks away from our house. i can drive us back.

You texted back a quick "on my way" and made your way over.

Ten minutes later, you walked into The Grind, the local coffee shop where the whole town seemed to be at this moment. As you scanned the room, your eyes met Ellie's. She was seated at a corner table, her phone face down and her fingers nervously tapping a rhythm against her coffee mug.

"Hey," you greeted as you approached, pulling out the chair across from her.

"Hey," Ellie replied, her eyes meeting yours briefly before averting. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem. Sounded like it was urgent. What's up?"

"I saw you today," she began cautiously, "with Ingrid."

A knot formed in your stomach. "Yeah, she was showing me around. Why?"

Ellie hesitated, looking down at her mug, and tapping the handle. She closed her eyes for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "Be careful with her. She's not what she seems."

"I mean I heard what you guys said about her at lunc but," you replied, taking a sip of your coffee. "She seems harmless."

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Cut right above her shoulders, the choppy layers suited her face. "Ingrid has a way of getting close to people, and it's not always for the right reasons. I just don't want you to get hurt."

Your eyes met, and you felt a strange warmth spread through you. Ellie was concerned for you. But why? She had only known you a day. You searched her face for an answer, for anything, but you came up short.

"Do you have something against her?" you asked, not hiding your skepticism.

"No," Ellie was quick to respond, "it's not like that. I've just seen her ruin friendships, relationships. She's manipulative."

"You seem serious," you remarked, detecting a tinge of something in her voice—was it jealousy?

Ellie looked down at her mug, her fingers ceasing their tapping. "I just don't want history to repeat itself, okay?"

"History?" you questioned, leaning forward. "What happened?"

She looked up again, her eyes meeting yours again, but this time they were vulnerable, exposed. "Ingrid and I had a thing once. And it felt more serious than her ‘things’ with Cat and Dina. And let's just say it didn't end well."

Now it made sense. The hints, the caution—it was personal for Ellie.

She held your gaze, her eyes searching yours for something you couldn't name. "Also," she paused, as if weighing whether to continue, "You’re my friend now. I care about you. And I don't want to see you get hurt."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air was thick with unspoken words.

You finally broke the silence. "Thank you for telling me, Ellie. I appreciate it."

She nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, yeah. Of course"

As you left The Grind, your thoughts were a swirl of confusion and clarity. Ellie's concern had added another layer to the already complicated dynamic of your new life. But through it all, one thing became clear—Ellie cared about you, maybe more than she was willing to admit.

And as you replayed the conversation in your mind, you couldn't shake the feeling that Ellie wasn't just warning you about Ingrid. She was also staking her claim, marking her territory in a landscape that was becoming increasingly complicated.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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joleenjackalope · 26 days

Text

So I have some Lenore thoughts, I like the idea of her a lot. But I don't think she's worth her price. So here are just some of my thoughts, as well as my doodling out some of those thoughts. I don't think she necessarily needs all these things, it's more that I let my internal rants about how she could be better guide me out of my art block these past couple days.

Part of why people pay more for collector dolls is because they have some type of attachment to them. Either being a Monster High character they already love, from an IP they love, or even the Off White had some brand recognition. (just not from me) And I felt like Lenore COULD have been the lady in white/weeping woman ghost story that just about every town has.

That being said- What is with the glitter tears?? If she had a unique sculpt that actually had a downturn on the brows and a sad face, and actually LOOKED like a weeping garden ghost, that alone would have made her more appealing!

Then why unpainted accessories? Why one big unpainted accessory her main focus? I like the vines (I didn't go very detailed here) but either paint them or make them smaller. (What I did) But if you want me to believe that the doll is WORTH $75 then you need to show that some actual care and effort went into her manufacturing and paint her damn accessories.

I just wanted an excuse to draw the spider. I don't like the human face but I only like a few of any of the MH pets anyway. so...

Put her damn hair up. Just like with the accessories, show me she is WORTH her price.

All of the above combined, the collector dolls stray further away from the High school aspect of MH and although Victorian/period fashion isn't necessarily my thing, I know a ton of collectors would have loved her looking like a ghost who's been haunting for a long time. And since she's not a character that's being portrayed in the high school - a collector doll would have been great! There's lots of adult/non-student characters.

Mini notes- I didn't draw patterns for her clothing, but the pattern on her dress as is would have still looked lovely on a bigger, fancier gown. I didn't do full body and I have no notes on shoes. They're not my specialty. And I would have appreciated her not having a full white sclera.

Also, line art for this piece is available here, tag me if you color it! I'd love to see. ♥♥♥

#monster high #joleen rambles #Lenore Loomington #MonsterHigh

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phoenixblaze1412 · 3 months

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i-i-i-i-i-i wantttt another father dottore content 😢😢😢 may i ask for a child!reader cursing in front of our father? maybe a segment cursed in front of us and we just.. copy that curse word lmaoaoa. thank you in advance!

-🧊

No-no Word.

Now, Zandik established a rule among the rest of his segments that no one is allowed to cuss whenever you're in the room.

The no-no words. That's what your father calls it. Every single cuss or swear word that exists within his and his segments' vocabulary is not allowed to be said within your hearing range.

"But why am I not allowed to say these no-no words, papa?"

"Because, my sweet, these words can only be used by adults. You are still too young to say these and I don't want your innocence of the world to be tainted with bad things."

Yes, the segments follow the rules.

But sometimes, they just can't seem to keep their mouths shut.

Mostly Iota, Theta, Beta, Gamma, and Delta.

How lucky of you that they will be taking care of you for the whole day while your father is being called to a meeting with the rest of the harbingers.

The segments agreed on how many hours they each will take when watching over you.

-----

With Iota:

You were in your father's office, busying yourself as you you doodled on a piece of paper with a pencil that Iota handed you. Iota, on the other hand, was organising each reports based on their importance.

He was already annoyed at how incompetent his fellow clones are. Not even sorting out the reports they handed to him in the proper order. Even their writings are hard to understand!

With a huff, he went to rewrite the reports of the others to something much more readable for Zandik to understand. Moving his arm a bit, he didn't notice he knocked over the ink bottle. Said bottle toppled over a few documents, ink spilling down and staining the reports.

"Fuck!"

Iota cursed out as he quickly picked the ink bottle up and went to quickly fix the mess that was created. He knew he would be scolded if Zandik found out about his mistake.

Once the mess on the desk has been cleaned, aside from the ink stained reports, Iota let out a relieved sigh. It's okay if the reports are smudged a lot as long as there isn't any ink stain on the harbinger's desk then he is okay.

"Fuck!"

Iota quickly turned around to face you when he heard your voice say that one word. His eyes widening in shock as he quickly went over to you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

"No no no! You must not say that, mutt!"

"Fuck!"

Ah shit..

-----

With Gamma and Delta:

You were immediately dropped off at the laboratory by Iota. You heard the segment saying something along the lines of 'if it's not with me then it's not my problem anymore'.

Gamma was the first one to notice your presence as he grinned before quickly picking you up in his arms and lightly pinching your cheek.

"Little flame! You're just in time. Come now, let's put a lab coat on you so you won't get any chemicals spilled on your fragile self."

You were sat upon a stool, safety goggles placed upon your eyes as you watched the chemicals in the beaker bubbling from the hotplate. Delta was taking notes of the chemicals while Gamma stood beside you with a bored look.

"Delta, can we heighten the flames to make this thing go faster? Or maybe add more fire? Fire is good."

"No. Too much heat pressure can cause something bad."

"But we've been waiting for an hour already! (Y/n) is already bored!"

Not really. You were too busy staring at how pretty the liquid in the beaker was, liking the color.

"No, Gamma. We have to wait for two more hours. That's what the instructions said."

Letting out a huff of annoyance, Delta turned around and went to check on the supplies, leaving you and Gamma for a while. With Delta away from you two, Gamma grinned in delight before glancing at you and placing a finger to his lips to be quiet. You nodded in understanding, placing a finger to your own lips as a sign that you're quiet.

You watched as Gamma turned the heat to the highest level. The chemicals beginning to form bubbles at a very alarming speed as the beaker began to shake and move around the hotplate. Both you and Gamma stared curiously at the beaker, wondering why it's rattling too much until you both heard Delta come back.

"Gamma, what the fuck did you do--"

Before Delta could finish his sentence, a large explosion erupted in the lab. Gamma had you in his arms, shielding you away from the glass shards of the beaker. Delta quickly went to turn on the air vents to quickly remove the smoke that clouded inside the room. Once the smoke disappeared, Delta was glaring at Gamma with his arms crossed.

"You pyromaniac fuck! I told you to leave the heat on its current state!"

"It's your fault for choosing something so boring to do!"

"Me?! This was literally fucking assigned to us!"

"Fuck!"

You like saying the new word. It feels like a catchphrase the segments would say. But Delta and Gamma were not having it.

"No! Bad (Y/n)! Don't repeat that!"

"My sweet little firecracker please don't say that!"

"Fuck!"

The two segments could only stare at each other in pure horror. Knowing it was futile to stop you from repeating that word.

"We are so dead."

"Not me, you were the one cursing a lot, Delta."

"Fu-- shut it!"

-----

With Theta and Beta:

You were eating your favourite sweets, courtesy of Epsilon, with Theta and Beta sitting on the floor in front of you. Both of them were already done with their assigned tasks so what else could they be doing but cause mischief instead?

"Alright, dumbass. Have you been cursing well?"

"Must you call the little angel a dumbass, Theta?"

"Meh, not my fault they ate a tomato and thought it was an apple."

Theta could only snicker as he glanced in your direction, pulling you over to his lap and poking your cheek.

"Now. Repeat after me. Say fuck."

"Fuck!"

"Good. Looks like you can already say that well. Now, what does that word mean?"

"When I had a very happy and good time."

Beta handed you another sweet as a prize, a grin spread across his face.

"You know, the others were panicking because the little angel has been saying 'fuck' the whole day."

"Well they're a bunch of idiots. Alright, kid. Say 'shit'."

"Sheeeet?"

"Close enough, kid."

"Lord Harbinger is going to be very upset if he finds out his child started cursing at a young age, Theta."

"Don't worry, Beta. We'll just blame it on the others."

-----

"Papa! You were taking too long!"

You ran towards your father, your arms reaching out to him as you were picked up right away. The other segments talking amongst themselves, relieved that their tasks for the day were done and they could do whatever they wish.

"Forgive me, little one. The Jester has a lot of thinngs to discuss about. How was your day while I was busy, hm?"

"It was good! I had fuck!"

The sound of glass shattering to the floor could be heard throughout the room as your father, and the rest of the segments could only stare at you in shock. You could only tilt your head to the side, wondering why everyone is suddenly staring at you as if you did something wrong.

"Where did you learn that word, little one?"

"I heard it from the others!"

From that sentence alone, Zandik immediately turned to his segments and glared at each and every one of then.

"You incompetent fools! I gave one simple rule to follow and you lot can't even follow it?!"

"Eh? Why are you angry papa? Doesn't fuck mean you're having a good and happy time? Theta and Beta said it's like fun but with more pizzazz."

At the mention of the two segments' names, everyone's eyes turned to said clones. Beta could only laugh nervously while Theta rubbed the nape of his neck and looking away. Zandik clicked his tongue in annoyance as he looked at you and gave you a small smile.

"I suppose but promise me not to say that word again, little one. That is a no-no word."

You could only cover your mouth in shame, not knowing you had been saying a bad word the whole day and thought it was just another term for fun. You immediately nodded your head to your father's words, promising not to say such things again.

"Good. Now run along to your room. I'll have to deal with something before I tuck you to bed, alright?"

"Okay papa!"

With that, you immediately left the office and back to your room, leaving the others to themselves. A scowl immediately appeared on Zandik's face as he glared at Theta and Beta.

"You two have some explaining to do."

"Run Beta, run!"

"Get back here!"

"We are so sorry!!"

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dottore #dottore x reader #zandik x reader #il dottore #female reader #gender neutral reader #il dottore x reader #child reader

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snnnailmail · 1 month

Note

THE NEW CHAPTER IS SO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVGDFCHBVKDSVBKHFBJLSVBJLSSJLVBSLJBVLS🦅🦅🦅🦅💥💥💥💥 GOOD FKN SOUP IM DEVOURING IT RN it might be my fav chapter thus far........It has elements of The horrors tm and scenes that make me kick my feet in delight GODDDDDD🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 AAAAnd as usual I have some new silly doodles that I've got (Sadly I cant draw fast enough to finish my fan art for this chapter BUTIMWORKINGONSMT). I do have the RGB reader designs that I mainly use so that other fans could (maybe....just maybe...) mold their reader/player into whatever they want but I DO have a design that caters to my fav design tropes...

ALSOALSO- I've got a folder righttt 👉here where I'll compile some more sketches (and the animation with the right sync good gracious me-) so that I dont BOMBARD you with 50plus images.

the last "AGAIN"- THE CHAPTER WAS SO SCRUMPTIOSSSSSSS- KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you I'm so glad you love it!! 🦅💥 (Nonsense emojis are becoming a habit I have to stoppp...)

It's so funny you said that cuz I have a Doc called "kicking my feet blushing giggleinf" that I use to jot down the "fluffy" moments when the inspiration worms hit x0

And take your time with the art gurl!! What you've already done is amazing!! The most important thing is that it's fun and engaging for you,, no pressure 🫶

Those RGB designs are a banger btw they have so much personality!! I forgot to mention I loved the color scheme of your animation. I'm a sucker for some super saturated RGB...

OKAY now I'm gonna gush abt your art >:o] I love your insert she's too spunky!! She looks so done w him LOL. Also your style is delightful and fun!! I love your habit of drawing ppl with tired eyes and no mouth. It speaks to me.

The “You look lonely” piece is gorgeous btw :) He’s so shinyyy,, Insert looks tireddd. I know it’s the meme format or whatevah but I would be too.

I hope you don’t mind me sharing screenshots? Just let me know :o) I’m abt to holler abt some sketches.

THESE!! These made me so soft oml. I know in my heart he feels like a Squishmallow or whatever those fat chibi stuffed animals are.

DRIP KINITO 🔥🔥🔥 I giggled. Also baseball Kinito is canon now. To me. I just KNOW he picks up random human sports and tries his darndest to play them with only two people. (Reader cheering him on and also looking thoroughly depressed is so real LMAO)

I think that's all I have in my heart for now... TY for this plethora of art you went above and beyond <3

BTW I’m gonna provide a pic of the players here for easy viewing cuz they’re cool as freak 💯🐊

EDIT: I am so glad!! You love my fic!! I heart U!!

#In Pixel Haze #FANART <3 #KinitoPET #KinitoPET.EXE #Kinito and You #Kinito and Reader #Kinito x You #Kinito x Reader

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thetiredasthmatic · 1 year

Text

Welcome Home, Y/n.

Synop: You were tired of your family life, tired of having only once time to enjoy yourself. So when the opportunity permits, you choose to go Home.

A/n: please take it easy on me..I lowkey think this sucks but I hope you like it 😭

Your mother never allowed you to have access to media, whether it be your own cell phone to have contact with your friends, or a T.V. to enjoy yourself.

Your brother(24) and sister(26) were only allowed to have that stuff as your mother would routinely tell you(19) that you didn’t deserve it. That it would rotten your brain and that she was the only thing you needed to listen to.

It was a culture shock each time you went over to your best friend's house, (the few times your mother allowed it.) She always showed you knew things, like her many game systems, her favorite t.v shows and her favorite websites to visit.

(F/n) felt bad for you, so she wanted to show you what all you missed out in your younger years.

Today was one of those days.

“Y/n! You like old cartoons, right??”

She asked excitedly, and the question made you tilt your head in confusion.

She held a devious grin on her face as she reached under her bed to pull out an old box.

"I found this while at my grandma's! She doesn't know I have it, but I did some research on it, and apparently, it's an old cartoon from the 70s!" She says happily before pulling out some of the old merchandise.

You could see from the worn-out name on the box that it was called Welcome Home, and from what you could tell, it was a puppet show similar to Sesame Street or the Muppets.

You reached your hand in the box to pull out what seemed to be like a concept book. When you opened the book, you were enamored with the colorful characters and the cute designs.

Your eyes immediately drifted to a blue pompadour having puppet, it's deep eyes looking back at you, almost like they were staring right at you.

Or through you…

"Wow…"

"Cool right? We can watch some episodes online actually!" You watched as your bestie set up her laptop.

"There's a restoration project going on and the first few episodes have been released!" (F/n) giggles in excitement as she moves things around in her room.

Your eyes were glued to the screen as the color puppets roared to life on the screen.

"Hello Neighbor~, Welcome back to the Neighborhood!" The blue haired one, that your friend called Wally Darling.

Apparently according to her ramblings he was the main puppet in the neighborhood. He liked painting, apples and you assumed eye contact. Or maybe that was just how he looked.

"Ooo~ You like Wally don't you Y/n?"

"F/n…shush. I just think he has a cool design."

F/n let out a gremlin like giggle as she explained the plot of each episode as you watched. Each time you felt like Wally's eyes were only on you.

Like everytime he was on screen, supposedly talking to another one of his neighbors, his eyes would be staring right back at your.

F/n explained it away as that just being his character, but you felt otherwise but decided to be quiet about it.

Either way you found a grin making its way on your face as the puppet talked on the screen. The kindness that they showed each other and the way they treated each other as family….

It made you a bit sad.

Damn even a puppet show had a better life than you did.

—---------

Despite you not wanting to make your parents upset. Your best friend made you take her laptop with you.

It was small and looked like a notebook. She knew how your home life was, and she wanted you to be able to have fun.

So here you were, back at home, up in your room, on the laptop she had given you.

You decided to do your own research on the puppet show and found a website attached to it!

You smiled brightly as you decided to search through, learning more and more about the characters, the show, and the whole restoration project.

You even found yourself doodling the characters, especially Wally.

It was just something about the main puppet that had you drawn to him. He was a charmer, a little mischievous and really adorable to you.

You could've sworn he was talking to your through the website.

Everytime you came across an image of Wally, it seems like his eyes would drift from the direction they were originally to look at you.

'You're looking for me?'

'You're so pretty neighbor'

'Won't you come home?..'

Were some of the messages you got as you browsed the website and you felt like eyes were boring into you. Even when you finally finished and closed your laptop for the day. You still felt the eyes on you.

But it was more comforting that the eyes of your family.

You were the youngest of three. It was seen as the failure of the family due to your anxiety and depression.

It often keeps you from doing tasks or having normal friendships, and instead of getting you help, your mother babies you and treats you like a child.

Preventing you from having friends or trying to better yourself. Always holding your siblings in a higher regard.

It's probably why you felt more comfort in a damn children's t.v. show than your own family.

"You're so much more welcoming than my home…" you muttered and sighed. You flopped back on your bed and stared up at your ceiling.

"I wish I could join the neighborhood…maybe then someone will treat me nicely.. "

You felt like someone was intensely staring at you as those words left your lips, though your room was completely dark.

You then heard the footsteps of your mother coming down the hall. You hurriedly pushed the laptop under your pillow and made it look like you were asleep.

You hated that you weren't allowed to do the things your siblings did.

You were infantilized, and all you wanted was freedom. Freedom to do as you pleased, freedom and a loving family that treated you as equal…

You wanted a place where you could truly be yourself, not hiding behind some facade you were forced to live behind.

You sighed as you felt yourself drifting off into sleep, a soft monotonous voice heard lulling you to sleep.

"Come home darling…"

"I'll be waiting for you…"

‐—---------------

You yawned as the sunlight beamed on your face. You rubbed your eyes before going to get out of bed only to fall out of it.

You expected to hit your hard floor but landed on a fluffy rug.

This made you shoot up in confusion before you realized you were not in your own home.

You heard footsteps coming towards the room you were in and you were frozen in your spot on the floor as you saw the door open.

"Neighbor…are you alright in here? I heard a thud?"

You stared in disbelief as your eyes locked with the dark ones of Wally Darling.

You blinked and rubbed your eyes again, even pinching yourself to see if you were dreaming. When you felt the sharp pain of your pinch, your eyes widened in realization.

Wally was standing in the doorway, staring down at you watching your every move.

"Are you alright, Neighbor?" Wally asked again and You quickly got up and went to hug Wally tightly.

The male froze and nearly went limp in your arms, not knowing what to do.

This is not what he expected at all! He was expecting someone who was scared, angry, and wanted to leave.

Instead He had you in his arms, thanking him and excitedly rambling on about what you were going to do.

To say he was confused was a severe understatement.

He had taken an interest in you as soon as he saw you beside F/n. He listened in to your conversations and learned as much as he could about you.

He knew your favorite color, he knew about your home life, he knew about your love for cartoons and colorful things.

Wally learned a lot in that short span of time.

So when your friend offered her laptop for you to take home. Wally took that as an opportunity to invite you home. He just wasn't expecting someone so eager to join him I'm the neighborhood.

He heard you ask to join the neighborhood, and Wally was practically beaming with joy.

He was so excited to finally have a neighbor who wanted to stay!

You let the male go, smiling and thanking him. Pulling him along excitedly to go and meet the other neighbors.

You were an enigma to him.

Hes had many neighbors come and go, many of them failing to see the greatness that he saw in this little humble town.

But you.

You were excited to make new friends, excited to start a new.

You were excited to finally have a chance to be you.

And Wally wanted to be by your side as it happened.

"Well, let us go meet the others, shall we?"

—----------

Im sorry if this is trash, i just wanted to try my hand at writing for Welcome Home 😭

#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home wally #wally darling x reader #wally darling x you #wally darling x y/n #wh wally #wally darling #welcome home puppet show

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unboundprompts · 2 months

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prompts for two kids on the poor side of town trying to make the most of it?

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

He didn't like to steal. She had convinced him to dine and dash only once before, but he made himself sick with guilt afterwards. In exchange for meals, he would do the dishes at the old diner after they closed. It was busy work, but the food was good and sometimes he would get paid under the table.

She found some abandoned sidewalk chalk at the park once. Bright colors with more potential than you could ever imagine. The sidewalk right outside of her apartment was always decorated with drawings and doodles that could make Picasso jealous. Sometimes, other kids in the neighborhood would join her when she was drawing. The street would be littered in art and she would begin to think that maybe the world wasn't so bad. But the rain would always come, washing away the colors.

"Wanna watch a movie?" "Sure, what do you wanna watch?" They laughed at the question, as if there were more options than the four movies they had on DVD.

They frequented the convenience store close to the edge of town. One of their closest friends ran the register in the late afternoons and there were no sensors by the door that went off if they walked out without paying. They would hang out, keeping their friend company while they worked and making a meal out of the gas station hotdogs that never got eaten anyway.

"What if we ran away?" she asked, her voice barely over a whisper. He had to strain to hear her. "Why would we run away?" "Because everything is terrible." She started to laugh at the very idea. "We could hop a train or something. Start over in a few towns over."

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

#writing prompts #creative writing #dialogue prompt #writeblr #prompt list #story prompt #ask box prompts #angst prompts

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symbioticsimplicity · 2 years

Text

Baby punk El this and baby punk El that. I love her to death but she's blossoming into someone else. So what about baby punk Steve?

Imagine Steve who's grown so much he feels like he's outgrown most of his previous interests and likes. Its hard to really fixate on cars and sports when every time you look at a car you remember hitting Max's brother with one, and baseball bats will forever remind you of fighting with one. Steve isn't remotely the same person he used to be, so who is he now?

Imagine Steve trying on all manners different ideals and outfits, flitting from one friend's style to another as he tries to find where he fits.

Nothing really clicks though. Nancy is too similar to what he already was, Robin's style only really suits her, Jonathan's is kinda... basic, Argyle just isn't the vibe really, and the kids are still coming into their own too.

That leaves Eddie.

Eddie who Steve could not be more different from, ostensibly.

But when Steve tells Eddie about what he's going through and what his goal is, Eddie takes him under his wing immediately.

He starts taking Steve into more metalhead spaces, lets him get to know what the community is actually like (They're mostly old friends of Wayne's, a biker group he used to ride with that pretty much adopted Eddie when he was younger too. They're also largely responsible for how Eddie is today). Steve is surprised by how welcoming they are, and how easily he gets along with them all. Since he's still relatively young and new to the scene, he's the group baby for once.

They become another pseudo family to him, though one that he doesn't have to constantly worry about protecting, rather one that protects him (Finally the baby instead of the baby sitter.) Especially after the night they got him drunk and he shared a "funny" anecdote about his parents forgetting him at home when they went on a two week vacation (They all silently agreed that if they ever meet the Harringtons, its on sight). They're the ones that help him really come to terms with how shitty his home life actually is, the ones that help him channel the anger that comes with that revelation.

Its still not quite what he was aiming for but he loves his new found family. And hey he does actually like this. Even some of the music, to Eddie's utter delight.

Steve slowly begins collecting bits of clothing that suit this new change in his life some of them he's stolen from Eddie and it makes him feel more settled in his skin.

But the first moment he finds what he's been looking for comes from what was supposed to be a joke.

One day when they're hanging out, Eddie sings David Bowie's Rebel Rebel to Steve, jokingly, but Steve immediately resonates with the lyrics. He begs Eddie to play him the whole song (he has a Bowie vinyl stashes under his bed, what kind of gay would he be if he didn't??) and when he does he wants to listen to it over and over again.

He starts picking up bits of Bowie's style too. Starts using Robin's eyeliner to doodle a couple little stars by his eyes when she's around, sometimes he'll borrow Nancy's a lip gloss and dab a little bit on his lips. Eddie starts calling him "Pretty Boy" instead of "Big Boy", and Stevie instead of Steve and he loves it.

The second huge revelation comes when he sees an actual punk in real life.

The spikes, the color, the attitude, the makeup, all of it calls to Steve like a siren song. It takes everything he has to calmly walk up to the punk in question and ask them about their style, about their scene. They happily explain (punks and metalheads are practically cousins, and Steve is dressed almost exclusively out of Eddie's closet that day) and Steve falls in love with it immediately.

Its such a good mixture of the bright, energetic style that’s Steve's underlying personality, along with the sharpness hes taken on since the Upside-Down invaded his life. Something about having spikes on his clothes is comforting to him, like having his nailbat close at hand without the implicit threat it carries.

The first thing he does is transform his letterman jacket into a punk jacket. Eddie helps him design it, and its an elaborate testiment to the things Steve has done and has been through. The kids help make buttons and pins and patches for it too, each new one like a medal bestowed on him for his bravery and his service to them over the years.

He then swaps out his running shoes for combat boots which take a little getting used to since they're heavy but it feels right. They sit tighter on him and he finds it reassuring. He could also knock out a fucking window with them, which he finds out by accident so that's a definite plus.

He keeps his blue jeans but stops replacing them when they rip and tear. Its part of the style and Eddie loves to play with the little bits of skin that peak through the holes.

He starts wearing actual makeup here and there and finds that he really likes it. The eyeliner makes his eyes pop in a way that everyone finds distracting and its fun. Plus Robin and Eddie both sit in his lap when they apply it for him which is a bonus.

The only thing that stays the same is the hair (give or take a couple streaks of color here and there). It suits him and the change in aesthetic doesn't really affect his hair. If anything it actually kinda makes more sense. He looks like a greaser but more aggressive and he loves it. (Steve might not have chosen to become a warrior, but its definitely a part of him by now, and a part that has kept his loved ones safe over the years. He can grieve what it cost him and still love it for what it gave him too.)

His parents however do not love it. Not that he sees them often enough to really care what they think anymore, but the one time they catch him home his mother nearly faints and his father gets so angry it takes Steve back to being a helpless child again for a moment.

He accuses him of all kinds of things, (ruining their reputation, embarrassing them, disappointing God, you name it) but its not until he starts blaming Eddie for the changes to Steve's persona and attitude that he snaps.

Steve lectures his father like he would one of his kids, because he's acting like one of them. He doesn't even realized he's gone into full Babysitter mode until he sees his Mother's face. He's just so used to being the mature adult in any given situation it came naturally.

His mother to his endless surprise takes his side, tells his father he's clearly a grown man now and he can make his own choices. His father somehow looks even more shocked than Steve feels.

Steve doesn't rekindle his relationship with them, but they have an understanding. Which is better than he'd dared hope they'd ever have.

Steve Harrington is a punk, and he absolutely loves it. He has a family of metalheads that adore him and herd of children are somewhere in the middle and forming their own identities. He has a best friend who makes up her own damn rules, and a handful of friends who probably wouldn't mind the rules even if they knew what they were. And he's got a boyfriend who's helped him grow into his favorite version of himself yet.

#steddie #steve harington #punk!steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things au #listen i just realized how much I actually know about these subcultures #and now im letting the hyperfixations touch #plus I just think it would be neat if they let some of Steve's development leak into his appearance #i think he should be allowed to be sharper #while still being as sweet and protective as he is

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skylarsblue · 1 year

Text

✦Random Sinclair Headcanons✦

(I was bored and I have nowhere else to put them)

Lester's got a slight allergy to certain citrus fruits. It's not terrible, but it did get stuff like orange juice banned from the house when the brothers were younger. But that's Bo's favorite. So he always has a jug specifically for himself in the house since Lester's no longer living with them.

Vincent's hair is well kept in turns of how he washes it, but their lifestyle ruins it constantly. Some parts of Vincent's hair is a lot shorter than the rest cause he got too much wax caught in it, so they have to snip a strand. It's like terrible layers.

All the brothers have bad teeth, Bo's looks the best on the surface, but mans got at least 8 fillings in the back.

Bo is shit at telling people's accents, Vincent's decent at it. But Lester? Somehow he's the gibberish translator. Someone could come through with the most unintelligible accent and he'll somehow know what they're saying.

I've said Bo can play piano, and so can Vincent, but they're more adept with the violin. Lester can probably tear shit up on the harmonica

Vincent's art mediums are; wax sculpting(duh), painting, and charcoal.

Bo's art mediums are; photography, musical(though he dropped that one), and he used to be pretty good at pen doodles(but he dropped that too, fuckin' thanks Trudy)

Lester's art mediums are; scavage-crafting, wood/bone carving, and scrapbooking.

Bo had a phase where he was really good at producing poems/poetic song lyrics. But he stopped doing it because he got made fun of once. Basically anytime he does anything artistic, he drops it, because he gets made fun of or told Vincent is better.

Bo & Lester bond over old cars and Lester knows a good amount about cars because of it. By proxy, Bo knows a lot about Lousiana wildlife thanks to Lester.

Lester & Vincent bond over sculpting & carving. I think almost everyone agrees Vincent's dual dragon knives were carved from bone that Lester found.

Lester wasn't good in school but mans was fantastic in woodshop. He outdid everyone. Without even trying! Fuck a bird house, get a bird MANSION.

Vincent's an insomniac, Bo's got night terrors, and Lester is the type to wake up every hour. What's funny is that when they were younger, Bo was the insomniac, Lester had night terrors, and Vincent was the one who woke up every hour. They all switched problems somehow.

They all have two matching moles on their lower ribs and right beside their belly button.

Bo's first job was at a mechanic's shop, Vincent's was at a music shop, and Lester's was at a gas station. Bo was fuckin' trash at customer service, Vincent silently judged people's music choices, and no one talked to Lester(sadly).

Lester makes all his food too damn spicy. He adds spice to already hot things. Both his brothers think he's a demon as they watch him add chili flakes to things.

Bo hates reality TV, but in the way that he'll stick around to watch it and yell at the TV if he sees it on. It's actually pretty funny.

There is one mixtape in Lester's truck, it's the only one he listens too, and it's an old one he stole from Bo when they were teens. Bo still wonders where it went but Lester refuses to tell him.

Bo says he hates hugs but somehow gives the best ones. They're like, engulfing dad hugs with the perfect amount of pressure. Lester's hugs are a bit too tight but it's cute. Vincent's are soft and delicate, like a blanket.

If Bo's had a night terror and he can't calm down, he'll look for Jonesy. And she'll lay on top of him on the couch until he calms down. Vincent's found them a few times, but chooses not to comment on how Bo holds the dog he swore he didn't want like a teddy bear.

Vincent had a Greek Mythology phase, Bo had a WW2 History phase, and Lester had a Dinosaur phase.

Vincent's favorite colors are beige & lilac, Bo's are midnight blue & charcoal black, & Lester's are fern green & dandelion yellow.

Lester's house is cleaner than the twins, ironically. It's cluttered, yes, but he actually keeps a decent living space. There aren't even coffee rings on his tables, he made his own coasters. He's got a messy job so he likes his house to be clean.

Bo & Vincent don't know how to load a dishwasher. They wash their dishes by hand, but, they also don't cause they hate doing it When the sink is too full, they do rock, paper, scissors. Bo tends to lose.

#bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #house of wax #slasher headcanons #slasher #slashers #slasher community #slasher fandom

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silentwhispofhope · 1 year

Note

*Limping to your request box* I MISSED YOU AND I WANT TO GIVE YOU AN IDEA FILLED WITH FLUFF!! Is it okay to request?

💞[Skin Writing/Drawing Soulmate AU]✍️ 🖌️ - Reader is an artist and constantly draws many art in their skin because it's just so satisfying! Their soulmate Vash feels appreciated, in love, and beautiful whenever Reader's drawing appear on his skin. Their art just gives him a reason to love his skin despite skin scars 🥺 🖋️ - Reader does calligraphy, and they sometimes quote the bible doing it cause why not? Soulmate Wolfwood just looks with a soft, maybe teasing smile as he sees his soulmate's work. 😎 📜 - Reader is a poet and they randomly have ideas and prompt all throughout the day, so they grab a pen and start writing all the poetry from their head. Soulmate Knives who's intellectual and curious admires whenever his soulmate's writing appear on his skin, he just covers it from others eyes because pest don't deserve to see this beauty. 🌱

YOU CAN PICK TWO OUT OF THE THREE!! IT'S YOUR CHOICE MY FRIEND!!! 😍💝💌

- Sugar Plum Anon 💟

A/N: Just for you Sugar Plum Anon, I’ll do all three <3 I do hope you’re alright though! Please do stay safe! Since I’m doing all three, I hope you’re alright with headcanons instead of normal lil’ one shots. :)

Skin Writing/Drawing Soulmate AU Headcanons

Vash

He was absolutely scared out of his mind when he first saw the ink appear on his skin. He even went as far as to try to scrub his skin raw, and the ink was still fresh as ever. Poor blondie is wondering how the hell something like this is happening.

Meanwhile, you’re doodling like there’s no tomorrow with your ballpoint pen, tracing the outlines of your veins and doodling smiling faces.

Over time, Vash learns to just accept the random appearance and disappearance of drawings across his body. At the end of the day, it’s like a fun little game to see what’s been sketched on him underneath his turtle neck.

It takes a while for Vash to realize that it’s his soulmate doodles appearing on his skin. Warmth floods his heart each time he thinks of this, causing him to lovely trace the marks across his own skin.

He would laugh sometimes at the sudden ink smear appearing on his skin before new sketch marks appeared, your work hypnotizing him. He especially loved when you used different colors, almost painting his skin like a canvas. Eventually, he makes the move to respond.

So imagine your surprise when you find a poorly drawn flower appear on your skin. Ensue the same panic Vash experienced when you remembered you didn’t draw that.

Wolfwood

Scrubbing his skin did nothing. Seeing the scripture on his forearm made him wonder if he had perhaps gotten too drunk the night before and had gotten a tattoo.

The fancy calligraphy was choice, especially with that proverb. For the lips of the adulterous woman drop honey, and her speech is smoother than oil. Wolfwood decided that there could be worse things etched into his skin from that old religion.

You, on the other hand, were giggling to yourself. Oh, the irony of something appearing to beautiful but naughty. A snort escapes from one of your nearby friends.

He didn’t put anymore thought into it until the next day when the ink disappeared. Lowkey, thought he was super dehydrated for him to imagine that, but nope, even after drinking tons of water, the ink was no longer on his skin.

Cue some praying. He nearly has a heart attack when more ink appears on his skin. He has to go back to the orphanage and ask the elders for help on understanding the situation. Turns out it’s a soulmate thing, one which they didn’t even bother to mention until now.

Overtime, he appreciates the calligraphy he appears on his skin, particularly when new motifs appear. Wolfwood liked seeing you test new things and watch as the ink appear on his skin.

However, he was very glad to wear long sleeves when you would write down a particularly dirty proverb like 5:19. He would always end up blushing a bright red like a tomato, a huge contrast to his normal, stoic personality.

Imagine, your surprise when you notice fresh ink on your skin. For your ways are in the full view of the LORD in basic script.

Knives

He almost didn’t see the script appear on his arms, the ink nearly blending into his suit and pale skin. His fingers traced the letters he could make out. Knives immediately knew what this meant, it was his soulmate reaching out- most likely not knowing what was happening.

He tried to ignore it the best he could and kept himself covered with his cloak. Having someone would just drag him down, make it harder to reach his goal of eradicating humanity. However, his curiosity got the best of him.

Taking another look, the bleach blond quickly recognized the letters as chords with their denoted accidentals. Luckily for him, he new how to play. It was child’s play, really.

Meanwhile, your trying to understand how to play different songs only by listening too them. You were too stubborn to look them up, very confident in your ability.

And so it became a pattern for him to decipher your song you had written on his arm. He would spend hours playing the piano, watching the notes on his arm be crossed out and replaced. The composition rarely stayed imprinted on his skin for longer than a day.

Often, Knives would see lyrics being written with the chords. A little artist are we now? His small joke to himself caused a small smile. He would end up humming them, his low voice cutting through the air. It was for the sake of rhythm, he told himself.

Imagine your surprise when you saw a new. mark you knew you hadn’t inscribed into your skin, a word marked out for another.

#trigun stampede #trigun x reader #vash x reader #wolfwood x reader #knives x reader #vash the stampede #nicholas wolfwood #millions knives #gender neutral reader #trigun #reader insert

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