#I used to make a ton of comfort art of these two a while back when my body pain was less awful

[helltrskelter]

Happy birthday, Victor Blake!

03/07/2023! I've been too tired to make anything new, but with him as my pfp, I found it only fitting to finally post one of my favourite pieces of art I've ever done of these two!

[maximoff-pan]

the ultimate deception | benedict bridgerton (part one)

summary: you are a well known artist who paints under a pseudonym. What happens when Lady Whistledown comes to know of your identity? How will your relationship with Benedict evolve?

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!(artist)reader

word count: 4k

warning(s): poor writing and dialogue (sue me, I'm rusty lol), very unedited so if there are mistakes, I apologize, misogyny, penelope aka Lady Whistledown's biggest defender

a/n: this is definitely going to be more than one part, but I wanted to post something after so many months. Let me know how you like it (or don't like it haha)...comments and feedback are much appreciated <3

• • • • • •

“I wish I possessed merely an ounce of your talent.” 

Benedict’s gaze seems to be wholly absorbing your latest painting, a depiction of the botanical wonders of London’s Royal Kew Gardens. 

You puff out a breath, blowing on the feathery end of one of your writing quills. In your haste, it had gotten loose, tickling your face irritatingly. Tucking it back behind your ear, you wave him off. “You have much more talent than you give yourself credit for.” You admit through squinted eyes, scanning your work. “You simply lack conviction. And you worry far too much about what others think of you.”

Benedict smiles, receiving your words as the highest of praise. He reaches out to take a better look at the piece of art before him. “You flatter me.” He mumbles in awe. “But I suppose there’s a chance you could be right.”

Chuckling at his words, you grin knowingly. You’re right. It’s more than a chance…you just are. He knows it too. 

You both continue to steadily eye the painting, you out of critical evaluation of your work, and him in sheer admiration of it. 

Benedict’s favourite part remains the beautifully bloomed magnolias that are scattered across the canvas. He’d been sure to tell you numerous times of their elegance while you’d been working on it, eagerly awaiting the finished product. As you’ve come to realize, Benedict loves watching you work. It’s one of the prices you’ve had to pay for his allowance of your workstation being at Bridgerton House, if you could even call it that.  

You are grateful, truly. You wouldn’t be able to make your own living without his kindness. And you certainly wouldn’t be able to keep to yourself in the way you prefer to. 

“When will Augustus Leighton be displaying his latest work of perfection?” Benedict’s question reminds you of your fate as an artist. 

Augustus Leighton is the pseudonym you paint under. Using his name, you have become a well known artist among the ton, even going so far as to have a painting hung at Buckingham Palace. It’s difficult, you must admit, pretending to be someone else. But it’s a necessary evil.

Painting as a woman would get you nowhere. Especially as a woman with no money (particularly at the time you began), no status, and no husband. 

Your mother is a seamstress with little to her name and your father was a servant to Violet and Edmund Bridgerton, before his heart became too weak. He passed away when you were thirteen, only a few years after the Bridgerton children had lost their own father. You’d grown up with little money, but Violet had been kind to both you and your mother, seeing how close you’d become with her children. 

You were raised alongside them, Benedict and Eloise becoming your closest of friends. At three and twenty, there are five years between you and the two siblings in either direction, with Eloise being freshly eighteen, and Benedict having turned twenty eight. To this day, they remain two of only three people who know of your true identity, outside of Penelope Featherington. 

You hadn’t exactly meant for Eloise or Penelope to find out about it, but once they had, it became comforting to have more than just Benedict to speak to about your predicament. Especially considering, although Benedict has been wonderfully supportive, he could never understand the struggle a woman must endure in a male dominated world.  

“Likely never. This one is a gift for Lady Danbury.” You answer Benedict’s inquiry after a bout of silence. “She’s spoken about her love of these gardens quite regularly, so I thought, why not have Mr. Leighton recreate it for her?” 

“How will you get it to her?” He questions. 

A smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “I have my ways, lest you worry about it.”

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

The next few days are interesting to say the least. You’d somehow managed to get the painting delivered to Lady Danbury, and as far as Violet had been willing to speak of her latest visit with the formidable aforementioned woman, you have been made aware that she adores it. 

You’d also heard more about it from Benedict, who’d mentioned something about her being at a loss for words, an ultimate shock to both him and his mother. They’d never seen her look so bewildered. 

According to Eloise, Lady Danbury had been surprised to receive such a gift, especially of something so near and dear to her heart. She’d said it reminded her of her time with the Queen, telling the young Bridgerton woman about the months just after her husband had passed, when a new independent lifestyle began to bloom for her. 

The painting itself reminded her that women like her could be free, and one day, they would be. That sort of metaphorical mindset had definitely appealed to Eloise’s sense of social justice. She’d been more than excited to tell you about the older woman’s reaction to your art, claiming it to be a wonderful revelation. 

Today though, as you sit in the Bridgerton’s common living room, the opposite representation of said female autonomy rests in your hands. The paper feels rough against your skin as you pass it to Eloise who’s propped excitedly to the left of you. You’ve never been a fan of Lady Whistledown’s gossip column, although you can admire her unabashed confidence. But despite her strong will as an author, which could be seen as an inherently empowering trait, you are of the impression that she goes about it in an entirely backward way. 

Women don’t need to put each other down to build themselves up. It accomplishes nothing, consequently acting as a source of nourishment for the patriarchy you find yourself trapped in. 

“You’re not going to read it?” Eloise asks as she takes the pamphlet from you. 

“I never do.” Is your instant reply. 

Penelope perks up at the mention of the column, eyes trained curiously on you. If you had known better, you’d say she was a little too interested. 

But at this moment you shrug it off, listening with no suspicion as she asks a simple, “Why?”

You don’t have the hindsight to understand why your stomach turns at her question, but you respond anyway. “I tend to think of Lady Whistledown as a poison.” It’s the first time you’ve voiced such an opinion. 

Penelope and Eloise turn to you in surprise. “Come again?” Penelope’s soft voice cuts through. 

“She is a poison.” You repeat before explaining yourself. “Do not get me wrong, I hold admiration for her bravado, but her words, the things she writes, they cause nothing but pain and conflict for those she chooses to sink her teeth into.”

“But she’s an independent woman.” Eloise interjects. “One who is doing more than any of us could dream of. She is making a name for herself!”

You try to think about your next words carefully, but your mouth makes quick work of a reply. “A name which she hides behind, casting stones through the guise and safety of anonymity.” 

Penelope lets out a scoff from beside you. She’s always been one to defend the infamous gossip columnist. “At least she does not hide herself behind the mask of a man.” That feels like a shot. “The people know full well of her gender, despite her true identity remaining a secret.”

You hear the implication on her tongue. The same cannot be said for you. 

And she’s not wrong. You do hide yourself behind the mask of a man. You’d never once denied that.

You sigh. “I know you must think of me as a hypocrite.” 

Eloise agrees hesitantly. “Only a little.” She admits. “It’s just that you do the same as Mr. Leighton.”

You soften at her honesty. Truthfully, you understand where she’s coming from, but you can’t help the urge you feel to defend yourself.

“I disguise myself as Augutus because I know that no artist or art critic alike will take me seriously as I am. I want to share my work with the world, that is simply all I want. It’s all I have ever wanted.”

“Does that not make you a coward?” Penelope inquires, although it feels less like a question and more like an opinion. This is what she believes. And she's entitled to that. 

“Perhaps.” You nod in acknowledgment. “But it has also made me uniquely successful. And I take great pride knowing that my work is highly regarded, in spite of the fact that I have to be someone else to succeed.” 

“Does that ever bother you?” Eloise persists. “Knowing that no one will know you for the work you have done?”

Before you can respond, Penelope chimes in with a query of her own. “Does it ever make you feel guilty, lying as you do?” This feels like a challenge. 

You turn to Eloise, answering her first. “No, I feel quite unbothered. I like the privacy it provides me.” Your gaze flicks between the two girls, a fire in your eyes as you speak. 

You answer Penelope’s question next. “Guilt is one of the last feelings to cross my mind.” You feel content with it. “Because of Augustus, I have my own money, my own independence. I do not need a man to survive or to be happy. I have choices. And that's a facet of my life I never dreamed could have existed. If there is anything more empowering for a woman than that, I cannot think of it.”

Eloise listens to your words carefully, absorbing them, reveling in them. She hadn’t thought of it like that, but you’re right. Independence is a sign of true equality. And you have that. Not because of the name you hide behind, but because you’d used the insecurities of men to your advantage. You’d played the game and won. 

“I suppose I have been quite short sighted.” There’s much less arrogance in her tone. Eloise sounds humbled. “You’ve given me a new perspective to think about.”

Penelope does not enjoy the direction this conversation has headed. “Surely you cannot think yourself above someone such as Lady Whistledown.”

Your face scrunches in thought. “Above?” You stipulate. “I do not think myself above anyone, gender aside. But I do think I have a much higher sense of self respect than she does.”

“And how could that possibly be?” Penelope has to bite her tongue. She wants to say more, defend herself more. But she cannot. 

Eloise cuts in. “Lady Whistledown has the utmost confidence in herself. I dare say more than all the women in London combined. As much as I have come to see your side, I cannot agree with that.”

“One’s high level of confidence is of little concern here.” You deliver. “Often, in matters regarding the human condition, such as these, it can act as a detriment.” Your eyes narrow as you speak. “Self respect and self confidence can coincide, but they are not the same.”

Eloise laughs out of confusion. She’s not used to being this clueless. “I don’t understand.” She says.

“Ah,” you decide to stop tiptoeing around the subject. “I merely think that no self-respecting woman would use the pain and suffering of other women, or any other person for that matter, for their own profit and entertainment.” 

Eloise’s smile drops. “Oh.” Again, she hadn’t thought of it that way. But what resonates with her most is that you’re not wrong. 

“Is that what you truly think of Lady Whistledown?” Penelope’s voice is calm and collected for the first time this afternoon. It almost scares you. 

“Yes.” You say, before voicing, “However, I mean no offense to either of you. I know how much you girls adore her column. I just want more for you than what she does. A life of gossip is dangerous, and you deserve so much more.”

If you had known you’d been talking to Lady Whistledown herself, maybe you would have kept those opinions to yourself. But little did you know how much your life was about to change, how dangerously you’d walked the line, and how much vengeance rests in Penelope Featherington’s soul.

Future note to self, do not play with fire if one does not wish to get burnt.  

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

“(Y/n), I think you need to see this.” Benedict holds up the newest edition of London’s famous gossip column. 

Your heart sinks at the look in his eyes. I’m sorry they seem to say. 

You haven’t even read it and you already know it’s bad. Handing it to you, Benedict looks hesitant, almost in preparation of what's to come. As you take it from him, you glance down at the ink on the paper, her handwriting etched in your brain. 

You swallow the lump in your throat as you begin to read:

Dearest Gentle Reader,

It has come to this author’s attention that a certain individual is playing an unforgivable game of deception within the world of classical art that this ton so highly regards. This artisan has gone to great lengths to keep their true identity from you, painting under a well recognized pseudonym. 

By now you may have guessed, this artist is a woman. One who has tricked you and lied to you by passing her work off as that of a man’s. What a horrid crime it is to keep such a secret from you, and a desperate one, I must admit. A woman so foul as to seek such attention for her art, far too greedy to be content with the life so many of the wonderful women of the ton lead. Instead, she parades around disguising herself so she can live a life she feels entitled to. 

This author asks you to consider the arrogance of it all. But the question remains, as I am sure you are desperate to uncover: who is the serpent who remains among us?

And so it is with great sorrow that I announce the once beloved Augustus Leighton is a fraud. A man never seen in the public setting, has given us a reason why. He is a woman.

And her name, ladies and gentleman of London, is (Y/n) (L/n). 

As I am sure you, gentle reader, are shocked at this revelation, I will take a moment to address the woman this particular entry concerns.

May I remind you Miss (L/n), I have ears and eyes everywhere. Or did you forget? It would do you a world of good to remember that the next time you think about besmirching me. And, as I write this, I must say, this warning goes for all. Heed it, live by it, breathe by it. I am not a woman you want to cross. 

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

Panic crawls through your body. You want to cry, scream, maybe even simply die from the anxiety you’re feeling. 

“What am I going to do?” 

Your voice cracks, it sounds like glass breaking. Shattered, ragged, and tired, and Benedict can do nothing but hold you. 

Again, as your body shakes and caves into the pressure you think, what am I going to do?

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

The moment Eloise enters the room with Anthony at her side, your mind is sent ablaze. Only three people had known about Augustus. Only three people could have possibly let it slip, and you know for a fact it wasn’t Benedict.

As much as you want to believe Eloise would never do something like that to you, you can’t help but feel like she might have offhandedly mentioned it to someone. Her mouth had always worked much faster than her brain.  

Benedict’s gaze meets yours in understanding. He hopes his sister hasn’t done this; he’ll be furious if she has. 

You’re about to say something when a certain eldest Bridgerton catches you off guard. Anthony smiles when he sees you, eyes twinkling uncharacteristically so. 

“I had no idea you could paint like that.” He says. “I must admit, I’m quite proud of you.”

You blink rapidly in confusion. Proud? In all the years you’ve known Anthony, he’s never told you he’s proud of you. 

“So you’ve read the column then?” Your head hangs in shame. Everyone in London has probably read it by now. 

“Everyone has.” Eloise pipes in timidly, confirming your suspicions. 

She’s nervous, understandably so, fingers fiddling with the hem of her dress. You assume when you finally catch her gaze that she’ll avert it quickly, but instead, she holds it well. 

We need to talk. 

Benedict, reading the room perfectly, coughs in apprehension. “Brother, how about we let these ladies be for a moment? I’m certain they have some things to discuss.”

“Of course.” Anthony nods with a smile, not before reminding you how proud he is of you.

If anything good can come of this, it might just be that. 

Once alone, Eloise is eager to assure you of her innocence. “I spoke to no one.” She promises. “Blood be forgotten, you’re my sister (Y/n). I would never betray you like that.”

The look on her face is one of pure panic; she needs you to believe her. And despite everything, you do. It almost makes you feel guilty that you questioned her. 

“It’s alright.” You assure her. “I know you wouldn’t.”

But that only leaves one person…

“I think Penelope is Lady Whistledown.” You're taken aback by Eloise’s words, like a stab to the chest. Twisting the knife in further, she corrects, “I know she is.”

Moments of silence pass before you can collect your thoughts. “How long have you known?”

This is where Eloise loses her composure. Pure shame is etched upon her features. “I caught her a few weeks ago.”

A few weeks. A few weeks… A FEW WEEKS?

“Oh.” Your murmur is dejected and weak.

Eloise had known you’d been slandering Lady Whistledown in front of Lady Whistledown, and she’d done nothing to stop you, except defend her best friend’s honour. No wonder she’d been so reluctant to agree with you. 

“I wanted to say something.” Eloise stammers. “But I couldn’t. Penelope doesn’t know that I know.”

You inhale a staggered breath of air, face falling to your palms. “I’ve been such a fool. How could I have been so stupid?”

“You have not.” The girl beside you opposes before continuing, “Trust me, I am furious with Penelope. The things she’s done and said about me, about the people I care about, I’m not sure I can forgive her for it.”

You scoff lightly. Trust her? How are you supposed to do that?

Sure, Eloise has certainly been burned by Lady Whistledown before, but she’s always had her name to fall back on. “You have no idea what it’s like, Eloise.”

“I’m sorry.” She slumps in apology, shrinking in on herself. Eloise likes to think she can understand where you’re coming from. She’s a woman, same as you, one who has the same struggles against the patriarchy, and yet, hers are much different.  

“Don’t.” You dismiss her apology in frustration. It feels harsh but necessary. “You always speak about feminism and the difficulties of being a woman. How it is impossible for you to hold title and rank, or to be recognized for your accomplishments. But you are a Bridgerton Eloise, and that comes with more privilege, more title, more rank, and more acknowledgment in society than you seem to understand.”

Eloise’s brow furrows. “More often than not, that name is a burden, something you could not possibly grasp.”

“And I should not have to.” Your lips pull into a thin line. This isn’t a competition, but you feel it necessary to defend your point wholly. “I am the daughter of a servant and a seamstress. I have no money, no control, and no future if I am not to marry. Since the day I was born, I belonged to someone else. You talk of struggle, but you have no idea what it truly means.”

Eloise doesn’t like what you’re implying. “You think I live a life of luxury? That I am a stranger to the adversities life has to offer? I can assure you, I know much more about the struggles of which you speak. My mother has prepared me for the purpose of my future; finding a husband is imperative.”

“You plan to remain unmarried, correct?” You ask her seriously.

“With every fiber in my being.” Is her scathing reply. And it only serves to prove your point. But you can see her side of things too. 

“El, you defy your mother with your distaste for society. And while I applaud your determination to fight for equality, your fault remains in your failure to recognize the entitlement that has been bestowed upon you simply by having that choice. Unlike so many women, you can choose to live your life as a spinster. For you, those options exist. For me, I have not one choice besides finding a well suited, at best, middle class husband, because that is all I am suited for.”

In this moment, her heart shatters for you. Is that really what you think of yourself? “You cannot possibly mean that.” 

“It’s how it has to be.” You affirm. 

“It’s not.” She disagrees. “There’s so much more for you than a husband.”

Both your defenses are down, walls have collapsed, and you’re starting to get through to each other. She’s starting to grasp the gravity of what this means for you. Your career is more than likely over, as is the steady source of income you’d managed to build. Except where before you’d had less than no money to your name, you now had a healthy dowry (that you’d earned no less) to find a more comfortable suitor. 

Eloise sees it now. What Penelope has done is monumentally life changing. 

However, as emotional as this circumstance is, you still feel the need to reach out. She’s your sister after all. 

“Eloise,” your eyes search hers. They tread in a sea of empathy. “I never meant to imply you have lived a life without misfortunes. I’m not trying to diminish your hurt. But I thought if you heard my side, you might come to understand mine.”

She softens at your admission, having gotten carried away in defending herself. Nodding, she smiles gently. “I do.” She says. “And while you may not bear the Bridgerton surname, you do have us. Every Bridgerton will stand behind you, always.”

Against every fibre in your being, you believe her. Somehow you’ll always have this little family of yours, somehow you hope you’ll be okay…

[biblio-smia]

part one | part two | part three

every piece of you wants to stay, especially as abby looks up at you with big eyes and pouty lips, her small fingers holding onto yours like a lifeline.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart. tonight's not a good night."

abby gives you a heartbreaking look but she lets you go, sputtering out a reluctant, "okay."

there's a different look on mike's face (though you suspect it's in a similar strain) but you offer him a smile and a soft kiss on the cheek before he steps back inside and shuts the door behind you.

though regret settles in his chest quickly and only intensifies with each unanswered ring of the phone as he tries to calls max. mike groans as he hangs up the phone, glancing at abby with the realization that he's out of options. abby catches on, too, a glint in her eye as she smiles.

"i will work, and you will sleep..."

it's almost 7 pm. usually, you'd be eating dinner by now. before your few days of solitude, you'd be laughing and talking with abby while you did. now, for the past half-hour, you'd been standing in the door frame of your kitchen, trying to decide whether or not you should eat by yourself or drive over to mike's.

the landline ringing pulls you away from contemplating the very difficult decision.

"hello?"

"hey," mike's voice greets you and you feel your heart flutter. "are you busy tonight?"

you lean against the wall, twirling the phone's cord around your finger. "hmmm, i don't know. are you asking me out?"

mike is quiet for a moment, shocked silence - he'd almost forgotten how easily you make him blush. "not tonight, baby, i'm sorry."

you can hear the smile in his voice and you can't seem to frown.

"no, it's something more... serious. can you come over? it'll be easier to explain."

"give me ten minutes."

mike groans. "ten minutes too long."

you laugh, giving him a sweet bye before hanging up, picking up your keys and giving your kitchen a quick glance. really, at this point you should just move in.

you've barely arrived on mike's doorstep when the door swings open. you're in mike's arms before you can say anything, your arms wrapping around him like it was a natural instinct. mike's face presses into your neck, intoxicating himself with your scent. your presence is a comfort and your arms give mike the sense of safety he's been chasing for years.

mike sighs into your shoulder and you pull away to press a kiss on his cheek.

"something's wrong?" you guess.

mike nods, his arms pulling you close again for just a few more seconds before letting you go (not completely, though - his hand finds yours instantly).

abby's in her room and mike drags you into his. you take a seat on his twin size bed and he follows, making a dip in the mattress that makes your legs press against each other.

there's a book and a tape recorder on mike's bedside table. your eyes wander to the space above mike's bed, where something previously taped has been ripped off.

okay, it hasn't been that long since you'd been in here...

"okay," you nod, ready to listen to whatever it is mike has to say. you're patient as he hesitates, only momentarily, before he finally tells you a few very important details he'd left out from your last conversation. like how he's been reliving his childhood trauma for the past month or so.

you really try not to be upset. you hear the desperation in mike's voice as he tells you that dream... whatever-ing at freddy's has gotten him closer than ever to figuring it all out, finally. his hands shake as he pulls out a folded up paper from his back pocket. you could recognize abby's art from anywhere.

"and look! i... i don't know how, but they're connected, somehow. the kids- they posses the robots and they can talk to abby! they told her about garrett. they know something."

"mike." your hands are on his, urging him to slow down.

"look, i know it sounds crazy." mike's gaze is serious as he looks into your eyes, pleading for you to not think he was a total nut case. "i want you to come with us tonight."

"mike-"

"no, i'm serious. you can see for yourself." and mike is looking at you so desperately.

you sigh. "okay."

mike looks like he’s still ready to convince you, not expecting you to agree so easily.

and then his hands are on your face and he’s kissing you like his life depends on it.

“i seriously-” mike says breathlessly between kisses. “don’t know what i did in a past life to deserve you, but you are… amazing.”

and so you keep your grievances to yourself. you’re really not sure if you’ve gone one step forward or taken two steps back but mike is pulling you into the kitchen to have some of the soup he’s made and there’s really no time to gather your thoughts.

but there is time for the worry you've been feeling for mike to come back tenfold.

abby is somehow more excited than mike to hear that you’ll be tagging along tonight, jumping up and down and thanking you as if you’d just told her she'd won the lottery.

she’s still buzzing in the car and mike’s hand stays steady on yours as he drives. his face is grim as he looks ahead, his eyes occasionally rising to glance at abby and falling on you at a red light (mike would've completely missed the light turning green if it weren't for your hand squeezing his).

but that feeling in your chest only grows and it's starting to make you feel sick. you’re really not sure what you’ve just agreed to.

mike pulls into the front of freddy’s, parking line long since faded. it’s your first time, but even you can point out the cop car not quite fitting in with the rest of the picture.

“vanessa’s here,” abby comments.

"yeah," mike nods, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"my friends talk about her sometimes," abby begins softly as you come up beside her, taking her hand.

"really?" you ask curiously. "what do they say?"

"that she's nice."

"abby," mike starts with a huff. "if i asked you to wait in the car, would you?"

"no." abby smiles before turning to you. "come on!" if her legs weren't so small, you're sure she would've lost you as she dragged you along.

"abby, wait!" mike calls uselessly.

"guys, i'm back!" abby announces as soon as she enters the large party room. "and i brought someone special!"

"abby."

"hey, vanessa!" abby is unstoppable, pulling you until you're on stage, right in front of her... friends.

"abby!"

you're frozen, standing there as you watch the giant mascots come to life, seemingly without anyone controlling them. they tower over you, large bodies whirring as they turn towards you. their expressions were limited, but you could tell by the way their eyebrows pointed and their mechanical eyes squinted that they did not like you.

"guys, it's okay!" abby assures before leaning in to whisper something. she giggles, and the animatronics... relax, returning to their normal expressions.

"okay, that's seriously freaky," you admit under your breath, watching as abby smiles and laughs with the mascots.

you stay by abby's side, reaching out to wrap a protective arm around her, eyes never letting any of the animatronics out of your sight.

there's a tug on your sweater and a look in abby's eyes you know too well.

abby presents to you, mike, and vanessa a rough blueprint for a fort made entirely by crayon. when abby reveals that she wants to build a fort for all of you, including the animatronics, you can't help but give her a look.

she doesn't seem to notice, caught up in all the excitement, but you catch mike's eyes and know he's sharing your sentiments.

"abby, look," mike starts, hand on abby's shoulder. "now, this is all really fun and exciting, but these things are big, and they could be dangerous, so i think we need to lay some ground rules, all right?"

"we're gonna watch our fingers and our feet," you add warmly.

"vanessa, what do you think?"

it's quiet as the two of you look up at her - mike has told you that vanessa knows a lot about freddy's (though he suspects she knows more).

"i think we could use the tables for the fort." vanessa smiles at abby, hanging back as abby runs off. mike's eyebrows furrow in confusion, but vanessa only throws him a triumphant look before joining abby.

"everyone, follow me! come on."

it's definitely a unique experience, building a fort with animatronics possessed by dead children. but they lift and build alongside you and soon enough, they're more endearing than terrifying.

you catch vanessa trying to bring a table over by herself, quickly placing yourself on the other end and helping her lift.

"thanks," she says quietly, tight smile over her lips. "so, you and mike...?"

"together," you confirm with a nod. "for a while." there's a bit of awkward silence and you really can't tell if there's something you have to clear. "if you were interested-"

vanessa laughs, but you don't give her a chance to confirm or deny.

"-he's pretty... clueless when it comes to those things." you offer a smile and vanessa shakes her head, mouth open to say something when a stray chair catches your eye.

"hey, careful," you stop abruptly before vanessa can trip. she looks to her right and kicks the chair away with her leg.

"thanks," she smiles.

"yeah." you smile right back.

"okay, they're kind of cute," you quietly admit to mike after bonnie's little fall.

"seriously? you too?" mike frowns and you can't hide your laugh.

"what? i'm just saying, i get why abby likes them so much."

mike shakes his head, disbelief in his face as abby waves the two of you over.

"i mean... they're still just kids, right?" you whisper to mike, voice holding a hint of sadness that you try to shake off, tugging mike along to congratulate abby on her genius engineering.

"i like it in here," vanessa calls from her spot on the other side of bonnie.

"me, too," you admit, fingers lightly interlaced with mike's.

"me, three," abby grins. "but... i think it's gonna rain soon."

"sounds like we need a roof," vanessa smiles as she sits up and you can't help but appreciate how she got along with abby. "i'll go see what i can find."

"we'll, uh... we'll come with you," mike calls, pulling you up from your spot so suddenly you almost fall on bonnie. "sorry!" you whisper, patting his arm gently.

"yeah, i take it back, this place is creepy again." you shudder as you enter the storage room.

"what are you looking for, exactly?" mike inquires as vanessa begins digging through a bunch of boxes.

"tablecloths!" she responds like it's obvious. "they used to keep 'em back here for big events."

"right. and remind me how you know that?"

"mike." you warn.

but vanessa won't answer the question and you can feel you start to suspect her knowledge of the place, too.

"found 'em." vanessa smiles as she begins digging into a box and pulling out some fabric.

"god, what is that thing?" your gaze lands on a very creepy looking piece of metal slouched in the corner.

"one of the older models," vanessa comments casually. you stare at her, watching her fold the fabric to make it manageable, barely even glancing over. no, that definitely wasn't common knowledge.

"don't!" vanessa's urgency makes you jump, your head turning to see mike almost stick his hand somewhere it definitely didn't belong. "i wouldn't do that. they're spring locks. they're on all the older ones. they were designed to keep the animatronic parts in place, so that, uh, a person could safely wear the suit. they tend to be pretty unstable. let's see..."

vanessa picks up a broom to demonstrate, sticking it right where mike's arm would've been.

the metal snapped it in a split second. the visual makes you and mike both cringe.

"like i said. unstable."

"is there anything else you'd like to tell us about, vanessa? cause you seem to know everything about this place." mike's words throw no direct accusations, but his tone does. "and what'd if abby'd come in here? what if she'd found that thing?" mike's voice rises and he's on vanessa's tail, forcing you to follow.

"you're the one who brought her here, mike, not me," vanessa spins around. "what i can't wrap my head around is why."

and mike has no choice but to share what he'd told you earlier. e sighs, glancing at you as he begins his confession.

"all right, look. i think that they know who took my little brother. i can't explain it, but when i'm here, i feel closer to garrett. my dreams are more vivid, and it... it's like i can almost..."

"change what happened?" vanessa offers and you're positive she knows something. not even you reacted this calmly.

mike nods.

"did you ask them about this?"

"yeah, i tried. i don't think they like me very much. but... they do like abby."

and that's when it all clicks. you remember your phone call with abby, how mike refused to take her with him. how something about that conversation with mike hadn't sat right. you'd thought it been the whole dead children possessing giant robots then, but you realize what it is now.

"so that's what this entire thing is about? using abby to solve this?" your arms cross now, eyebrows furrowing as you turn to mike.

"okay, i'm not using her, i just asked her to ask them-"

"mike, you said yourself this place is dangerous-"

"yeah, and we're watching her."

a silence settles on the three of you as you realize that, no, you aren't.

you lead the way as the three of you pick up the pace on your way out of the storage room, vanessa and mike picking up their discussion.

"mike. you need to drop this."

"i don't really see how that's any of your business."

"i'm tellling you, you need to let it go."

"who the hell are you?"

"just someone who's trying to help."

you burst out of the dark storage room, eyes trying to find abby in the dim light.

"abby!" you cry, watching her get closer to bonnie - a hand coming up to string his guitar.

"wait, abby, don't!" vanessa cries, but all of you are too late.

sparks fly and abby's on her back, unresponsive when you get to her.

"abby? abby!"

her eyes finally open as she coughs and you breathe a sigh of relief.

"what happened?"

"it's okay, abby. you just had an accident. you're okay." vanessa pulls abby up into a hug - away from you and mike and you watch as his face falls. "i'm so sorry."

vanessa helps abby up and you take abby's hand. "alright, princess, we're gonna get you home."

you have a feeling the argument between them isn't over, so you open up the backseat for abby and get in with her, letting her wrap her arms around one of you and use you as a pillow.

you were right - it wasn't over. though it really wasn't an argument as it was mike getting yelled at and it makes you guiltily reminiscent.

but you don't move into the passenger seat even as mike gets it, already letting him know you're gonna have your own talk once you get home.

"she looked so angry," abby comments tiredly, her head resting against you as you soothingly run your fingers through her hair. "why does everyone always look at you that way?"

mike sighs quietly and you swallow thickly. "let's try to get some sleep, abs." you say quietly, a hand coming up to rub her shoulder.

really, all you did was blink. your eyes flutter open and see the sun has risen during the short drive from freddy's. you're warm, whether it's from the sun's rays or mike's gentle hand on your leg. you're still half-asleep, not really hearing what he's saying, only able to notice how beautiful he looks with the sun shining on him like that.

you almost forget you're upset with him.

mike carries abby in and you let him tuck her into bed (something tells you he needs it more than you do). your feet quietly drag on the carpet, turning into mike's room and pulling on something cozier (and that doesn't have the dingy, lingering scent of freddy's).

you're lingering in mike's door frame, only a few feet away as mike exits abby's room and closes the door quietly. your arms are crossed and you might be frowning as mike bites his lip. you know he knows. you don't trust yourself to even sit on mike's bed, the temptation almost impossible to resist even out of the corner of your eye, so you make your way down the hall to the dining room and mike wishes he could watch you walk around in his clothes under different circumstances.

you sit in the sunlight, silently, and mike thinks he'd rather you yell at him than this. he picks at his cuticles, ripping at a hangnail until it's gone, a little red spot slowly taking its place.

birds chirp brightly outside as you gather your thoughts. you don't want this to be like last time and you're trying really hard to be patient with mike. you can't imagine what it's like to lose a sibling, but he could've lost another last night. wasn't that enough to snap him into reality?

"mike," you begin and mike hopes he never hears you say his name like that again. "i would never ask you to let something like this go," and mike sighs at the familiar request. "but it's becoming... too much."

mike looks up at you now, eyebrows furrowed, ready to be angry. "'too much?' what does that mean, 'too much?'"

you're careful with your next words, taking mike's hand softly, reminding him that you do love him.

"i mean, we got lucky. abby... abby could've gotten seriously hurt."

"okay, it wasn't like i forced her, she wanted to go."

"and you were against it until you realized those... things liked her!"

mike pulls back, his jaws clenched.

"you don't understand."

"so help me, mike. help me understand, because i'm really trying to."

"finding the man who took garrett is the only thing that matters to me!"

"so abby doesn't matter?" and mike falters. "i don't matter?"

mike's heart churns and his head drops. "that's not what i..."

"yeah," you sigh, crossing your arms. it's quiet again and mike can't manage to look at you.

"mike," there it is again. "this is becoming an obsession."

mike scoffs. "it's not-"

"yes, it is! tell me mike, how many nights have you been going there for the past... month?"

mike can't answer. he truly doesn't know. he's still trying to think of a response when your hands are on his face, forcing his eyes to look at you. your fingers sweep over the bags that have taken the spot under his eyes for a while now, wishing you could rub away the dark hues. you thumb over the hair on mike's face - he hasn't shaven in a while, but he hasn't taken care of himself in longer.

"you haven't been yourself, mike. this was the problem the first time. i'm just.. worried, alright?"

mike's heart sinks as he starts to see all of the stress on your face, too. your tired eyes and the small frown on your face. something in him aches and he regrets ever dragging you into this.

your eyes catch the time and you sigh as your hands drop mike's face.

"i have to get to work."

"w... work?" mike stammers. why would you agree to tag along if you had work in the morning?

"call me if you need anything. please." you press a kiss to mike's cheek before taking off, leaving mike to sit there in silence.

he sighs, rubbing his eyes. his body is exhausted but he can't rest. not until it's finished.

"hey, it's mike. i need your help."

that night, you linger in the living room. mike hasn't called, but you just can't shake the feeling that something's not right. you take a seat on the couch, that awful sense of dread in your stomach keeping you from doing anything else.

you're not sure when the exhaustion catches up, but when you wake up it's dark outside and you're not sure if the ringing you heard was just in your head.

and then your answer machine begins to play a bright voice you could recognize anywhere.

"my friend's taking me to freddy's! i don't know where mike went but i'm mad at him... what? okay! i have to go-"

the message ends abruptly and your hands feel clammy as you replay it.

it takes a few more minutes and more than a few deep breaths before you race to your car, fingers fumbling as you get in and hit the gas.

something's wrong. you can feel it.

you're barely in the parking lot of freddy's before you're out of your car, panting and having no idea how you'd made it without getting pulled over.

you approach the entrance and consider yelling out mike and abby's names on the off chance they'll pop out and assure you everything's okay. but before you can get too close, a figure is running out towards you, pulling you towards the side of the building and out of sight of the cameras.

"vanessa?" you're surprised to see her outside of her uniform, holding something that looks dangerous and with a frantic look in her eyes. "vanessa, what's wrong?"

her eyes fall on you as she tries to even out her heavy breathing and she looks wild.

"they've got abby."

"w... what do you mean? they like her, right? they won't hurt her?"

vanessa shakes her head quickly, her eyes teary and her voice quivering. "mike, he..."

"vanessa, please."

"they want to make her like them."

your heart's in your throat as you follow vanessa through the vents, dust and anxiety making it hard to breathe. you feel like you're going to be sick and you would push vanessa if you weren't sure that she was going as fast as she could. the vent cover is already off, making it easier for the two of you make it to the party room. bonnie and freddy are down on the stage, but you and vanessa are crouched and quiet, trying to listen for where abby could be over the sound of your own heart pounding.

foxy doesn't notice as you come up behind him and vanessa electrocutes him, your arms immediately fishing for abby as she screams.

"it's okay," you assure quietly, pulling abby in tightly, the relief you feel so intense tears almost slip out of your eyes. "you're okay."

"foxy!" abby calls out as she backs out of your arms, eyes sad for her friend.

"we're gonna get you somewhere safe so we can go help your brother, okay?" vanessa says worriedly, eyes checking over abby as her hand rubs her shoulder. her eyes fall on you and you nod, picking abby up and listening to vanessa's directions towards somewhere safe.

though there's not much you can do but chase after abby once she spots her brother on the floor, unconscious. you're on your hands and knees, eyelashes fluttering hazily, not quite able to process seeing your boyfriend bloodied and bruised. not quite able to fathom what it'll mean if he doesn't wake up. abby's screams don't quite reach your ears as her small hands try to shake him awake.

"mike, please." you don't even recognize the sound of your own voice, so desperate and shaky.

at last, mike stirs, weakly twisting onto his forearms.

"the drawings," he chokes out. "the yellow rabbit hurt your friends. show them what really happened."

mike's weight is on you as the two of you stumble through the dank hallways, lights flickering and mike panting. "here, here," mike directs and you pull him into a control room. mike stumbles as he reaches for a box, steadying himself against the dusty wall as he grunts, flipping the switch from off to on. you're not sure what it does but your arm is around mike again, pulling him out of the room as quickly as you'd gotten in.

there's a layer of sweat on your face as you push past a door, the last door that finally leads you back to abby.

she calls your names as she runs over, away from the man who's been behind it all. you let mike catch his breath for a second as you pull abby close, the three of you watching as the yellow rabbit is finally punished.

lights begin to fall, shattering the instant they hit the ground.

"alright, we gotta go." you scoop abby up, mike using you as support as you try to navigate your way out safely. you bite back a gasp once you see vanessa on the ground, pale and unresponsive.

"okay, okay." you set abby down and you and mike crouch down to each sling one of vanessa's arms over your necks. mike stumbles, almost falling as he tries to stand and your face tightens with worry.

"hold my hand," you instruct abby. "hold tight. don't let go."

the animatronics are dragging the yellow rabbit somewhere, but you can't spare any attention, focusing on not dropping vanessa and making sure mike is still upright. you're almost at the exit when the ceiling starts to come down, your own panting mixing with mike's pained grunts as the four of you finally make it outside.

"abby, i need you to open up the car for me, okay?"

abby nods and grabs your keys, running up ahead to click the button on your keys. the lights blink and she opens up the back for you and mike to sit vanessa in. you strip yourself of your sweater, laying it over vanessa as abby climbs into the opposite side. "hold her tight, alright?" abby nods, clicking her seat belt before holding onto vanessa's arm. good girl.

you help mike into the passenger seat, kissing the top of his head as he continues breathing irregularly, holding his side and gasping.

you're not the best example for abby as you skip your seat belt, shoving your keys into the ignition and turning them quickly. you peel out of freddy's, trying to remember the quickest route to the hospital. you're way over the speed limit, but not an ounce of you cares.

"keep putting pressure on it," you manage out, hands sweaty against your steering wheel. mike holds himself steady against your dashboard and your eyes constantly bounce between the road and mike, so distracted you almost drive on the curb as you pull into the hospital. it's okay, it's okay, you repeat to yourself as you head straight for the emergency room.

it'll be okay.

mike is cleared first. it's been a few hours and abby's asleep in the chair next to yours. the pounding of your heart kept you awake, tired eyes waiting expectantly each time a staff entered the waiting room.

finally, someone called you over.

"he's awake," the lady with the clipboard says with a smile and you gently shake abby awake. she's still half-asleep as the two of you are led to one of the hospital rooms, bright daylight shining in from the window making your eyes hurt.

but then you spot mike, raised up in his bed and awake and breathing and the weight on your shoulders is gone.

"mike!" abby cries happily, running over to throw her arms around her brother.

"careful, abs," you say softly, though you're barely containing your own excitement.

"no, no, it's okay. i can barely feel a thing," mike assures, pulling abby up into a tight hug.

you come up behind her, the tears you've been holding for hours finally finding their way out, relieving some of the pressure in your chest.

"hey, come here," mike says softly, his arms, still so strong, pulling you close. abby digs her way in again, head resting against your back until you pull her in, too. "i'm okay," mike whispers just before you all let go.

"yeah," you nod, wiping your face before abby can see. "you're okay."

the ride back home is exciting, the three of you making a stop for abby's favorite fast food before you make it home. abby is reluctant to let go of mike as you all trudge in, but her little eyes are closing and she'll wake up with a sore neck if she falls asleep on the couch.

you go straight for mike once she's tucked in. you're pressing him against the wall as you kiss him, careful not to hit any of the bruises on his face. there's no argument from him as his hands find your hips, his thumbs pressing softly into your skin. the both of you are trying to articulate your feelings through the desperate kisses you share, lips swollen and breathing heavy by the time you're finished.

but mike's had something on his chest for a while now, too.

"you were right," he breaths out, chest still heaving from the kisses. "about everything. i was stuck in the past and i wasn't focusing on what was right in front of me," mike's hands are on your face now, making sure you're looking at him (as if you could tear yourself away). "you and abby are the most important things in the world. and i... i love you."

your eyes are wide as you glance from one of mike's big brown eyes to the other, watching him watch you desperately. his eyes stay steady on yours, his fingers slowly thumbing over your face.

"i love you," he whispers again, reveling in the feeling of the phrase slipping off his tongue. "i love you." one more time, just for good measure.

and then you're grinning so wide, your face suddenly warm under mike's hand. your hands are on his, pushing them a little to catch mike in a kiss, completely different than before - this one's slow, the two of you dragging it out as long as you can, each trying to engrave the other in their memory.

but that's not where you want to live. so you pull away and cup mike's face in your hands, forcing him to be present with you again.

"i love you, you idiot. and i'm gonna make sure you know it every single day."

mike nods as he buries his face in your shoulder. he thinks he's crying and you might be, too. there's so many words he wants to say, but he can't quite figure out how to string them together. there's promises to for him to make and to see through, but for now, mike settles on one phrase, repeated into the material of your shirt. he's not even positive you can hear him, but he knows you know.

"i love you. i love you. i love you..."

final part!!! yay!!! i'm still not sure what to call this little mini-series, so let me know :p. & if you want any bonus content for them... requests are open! <333

(also, i am ignoring aunt jane because i have NO IDEA what happened to her in the movie)

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I'm actually thinking I might be doing one chapter every other night, but I would also like to draw on my comically large art tablet at some point this week, so I might skip a day or two.

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 2: Color Matching

You partially regret just agreeing to "tomorrow", seeing as this man decided that he wanted to show up at 4am.

It was the original time set for yesterday's session, and you guess he felt bad for being late, but god damn he texted you an hour earlier telling you he'd be there by 4am. Dragging yourself out of the comfort of your bed was difficult, but in the end it was worth it to draw such a stunner.

You had to get there before Leon did, so there you were; half awake, dressed in a pair of fuzzy pants and a loose t-shirt, and a small cup of tea in your right hand while the other fumbled with the keys to your little work room.

That was the greatest part about your job as a professional painter. You didn't have a dress code.

Though most days you did try to look your best, some days it was just easier to be comfortable. Besides, it's not like tons of people come and see you everyday, it was usually just one person at a time.

It was 3:47am by the time you'd gotten to your workspace and settled, sitting on one of the many floor pillows in the living area you put together away from the actual painting setup. The tea was warm, it was keeping you sleepy, but you couldn't stop taking small sips. It was in your hands, there wasn't much you could do to stop yourself.

You told Leon to just come on in when he arrived, not wanting to walk all the way back down just to lead him back up. The stiffness from sleep was still in parts of your body, so you knew it would be difficult to get up, even when he did finally stride through that door. He dressed nicely today, just what you needed him to do.

Wanting to relish in the dim yet warm lighting of your various lamps for as long as possible, you beckoned the man to come over and sit with you, which confused him slightly. He thought you would be ready to get started once he showed up, but he wasn't one to argue so early in the morning. Instead, he shrugged and slowly sauntered over to you, taking a seat on a floor pillow across from yours.

"Good morning." Leon grumbled quietly, his voice barely hiding the fact that he wasn't quite awake either. That rumble in his chest made your stomach flutter. "Good morning to you, too." You responded, closing your eyes for a moment to take another sip of your tea.

"When uh-" He cleared his throat, putting a fist up to his mouth as he did so. "When are we gonna get started?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, moving the cup away from your lips to stare at him. "I wasn't expecting to be up so early, so just give me a few more minutes to wake up and then we can turn my main lights on."

Leon sucked on his teeth as he thought, turning his head to look over out one of the windows as he rested his wrists on his knees. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to make up for being late yesterday."

You laughed softly before letting out a quiet sigh, setting your tea down on the low coffee table sitting behind you.

"Don't worry about it, but also don't make me get up so early again, old man." You attempted to joke, immediately noticing the wince on his face at the nickname. To divert, you stood up and stretched, patting his shoulder as you walked by him. "Alright, let me pull my stuff out and then we can get started."

Leon followed you with his head, taking a few seconds before standing up himself, pressing his hands onto his knees to help get up from the floor pillow.

"I'm just going to be color matching your tones today. I won't do all of it since obviously lighting changes throughout the day, buuuut..." You trailed off, beginning to rummage through a drawer in one of your desks before pulling out handfuls of paint tubes. "I just need to pull out the basic colors I'll be using."

It was still pretty dim in the room which caused you to have to squint to see the names of the colors on the tubes. Leon found that partially amusing, his chuckle causing you to glare playfully over at him. "Something funny?"

"As funny as it is to watch you go cross-eyed looking at those," he smiled, gesturing with his thumb to the light switches near the door. "I feel like it'd be easier to just turn the lights on."

"My retinas will be fried if those get turned on-" You were cut off by your own shout when Leon took the liberty of turning the lights on himself, laughing as you quickly moved to cover your eyes.

He only had to squint for a second before his eyes adjusted. You, however, were not expecting the sudden change, so you got an eyeful of bright white light. Complete and utter agony that lasted for a full five seconds.

By the time you moved your hands away from your eyes, they were watering and you had to squint for awhile longer. "Give me a warning next time you decide you want to try and murder me like that." You said, wiping away the few stray tears you'd produced from the light sensitivity. "You might live in the light, but I don't!"

The man shook his head and crossed his arms, smile still plastered to his face as he slowly made his way over to the chair in front of your easel. "That's payback for calling me an old man."

You twisted your head around to the chair so you could give him an indignant look, catching a glance as he was putting his hands up in defense with a small "what?" before you turned to look down at the tubes of paint sitting next to your hands on top of the desk.

"Nothing, just wasn't expecting to work with a toddler, that's all.." You mumbled, smile creeping onto your face as you heard him click his tongue from behind you. "I was an old man not five minutes ago and now I'm a toddler?" Leon asked, voice peaking dramatically.

"Yes, you have quite the range, Mr. Kennedy." You began sifting through the various paints you'd pulled out, humming softly as you contemplated what route you wanted to take with them. Stick to primaries? Add secondaries? Should I just use every color I need? Hmmm..

Leon watched as you stared at the paint tubes you'd picked up, tilting his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look. He snapped his head back upright when you started to speak again. "I'm trying to decide whether or not to use a lot of different colors, or just stick to a minimum.."

It was almost as if you knew what he was wondering. "Uhh... what's the difference...?" The man questioned, raising an eyebrow as you turned around, seemingly having made your decision already.

"Using just the main 6 colors-" You turned around and were faced with his very confused stare, causing you to explain a little better. "The main colors you see in a rainbow."

He breathed out a quiet "ahh" at that. Okay, good. He knows his basics. Cute...

"I can mix just red, blue, and yellow at varying degrees to get any color I need. Adding green, purple, and orange will help even more." You pursed your lips, lightly tossing the paint tubes in your hands before setting them down away from the other tubes. "I need white also. Damn.."

"What's wrong with white?" Leon asked, leaning forward a bit to watch you dig in the drawer for a tube of white oil paint.

"Nothin'. Just forgot, is all. Trying to keep this as authentic as possible..." You mumble, quickly closing the drawer with a slam after pulling out the paint you were looking for.

Silently nodding his head in acknowledgment, Leon turned his focus to his surroundings again, admiring your choice in decor once more. He bought a nice decorative pillow for his couch yesterday after being here the first time.

You grabbed a few strips of thick white paper, running your thumb along its textured surface before setting them down. You told him to stay where he was as you set up a small art palette, little dollops of the paints sitting neatly in the circular grooves.

"I'm gonna make color swatches of your skin for myself." You spoke up as you suddenly turned and walked towards him, holding the palette in your left hand while holding the strips of paper and a small yet flat paintbrush in the right. "Also, I'll need to get a picture of you in the position you want, but I'll do that after all of-" you waved everything you're currently holding in a small circle. "-this."

Leon simply responded with an "oh, okay", his knee beginning to bounce as you quickly began to mix little bits of your paint together to get a simple pale skin tone down before you even attempted to match his.

As you worked, you were starting to grow nervous with the silence, and clearly the man in front of you was as well, given he had started to sweat slightly on his forehead. He wasn't nearly as conversational as the last two agents you painted.

"So.. you've earned yourself a portrait..." You smiled slightly, holding up the strip of paper you'd brushed your mixed paint on to see what colors to mix in next. "What'd you do to earn one?"

Leon hummed. It was hard to think about every mission he's gone on, all the horrors he bore witness to, the people he saved, the people he couldn't save, how it all started, and now the fact that he's done-

"Hey, woah, I'm sorry." The sound of your voice drew him away from his thoughts. "I didn't know that would be a.. sore subject for you." He blinked at you a few times, furrowing his eyebrows soon after. "What?"

You pulled the strip of paper away from his face, pulling your lips tight with a shrug of your shoulders at his response. "You suddenly looked mad. Like... really really mad. I thought you were gonna snap at me or-"

"No. It's just bittersweet, is all." Leon cut you off, waving his hand dismissively at you before nodding once down to the paint palette in your hand. "You can keep going."

You stayed frozen in your crouched position for a few seconds longer before continuing to swatch your paint. You kept silent, not wanting to seem like you were antagonizing him.

"I used to be just a cop." The man suddenly said, causing you to look up from where you were mixing your paints together. "Only for a single day, but I was a cop. Simple as can be."

You nodded, beckoning him to continue with a small smile, which he did. "I'm sure you've heard about some of that already though, since you worked with Claire not too long ago."

His comment caused you to let out a small "ohh" in sudden recognition, nodding your head again. "Yeah, that's right! She mentioned you on that, okay.."

Leon continued to talk about all of his missions vaguely, still having to keep confidentiality in mind. You let him drone on, having gotten his skin tone matched in a few different areas now. You stopped to scribble on the papers with the paint swatches, making sure to label where each tone came from on his face and hands.

You took note of how he circled back to his single day as a cop and to certain missions. His mention of saving the president's daughter had you immediately smiling. That was a straight ticket to earning his own portrait in that hall of the White House, he could've done just that his entire life and he still would've been seeing you at some point.

You focused on mixing your paint for a little while before noticing he had grown quiet, looking up to see him staring out the window, a faint orange glow from the sun rising highlighting his features. And his tears.

Growing concerned once again, you set down the paintbrush on the palette so you could place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It seemed he didn't notice that, too lost in his head to notice anything at this point.

"Hey..." You asked with a soft voice, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. "We don't have to talk about it anymore, you know..."

Finally, Leon looked back at you, eyes widening once he realized how watery his eyes were. He turned his head away so you didn't watch him wipe the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and use his sleeve to dry his eyes. It wasn't like him to be so easily bothered by this stuff.

"I just need one more color swatch and then you can go, okay? We can save the photo for another day." You gave the man a weak smile, one he didn't reciprocate. You understood.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but you filled in for him. "Seriously, it's no trouble at all. If you need more time then you need more time." Standing up from your crouched position, you left your half-finished color match swatch with the finished ones before walking over to set everything down on the desk.

You didn't want to crowd the poor man. That was probably the last thing he needed. Despite having only painted for a select few, you've learned to just step away from these retired agents when things would go awry. It was akin to a war veteran suffering from PTSD; they did almost have the same experiences as far as you could tell.

"I'm sorry."

Leon finally managed to say to you, his hands anxiously rubbing up and down on the tops of his thighs. Must be a nervous tick.

You angled yourself so you could see him while your body still faced the desk, smiling at him while your hands worked to neatly stack the strips of paper before clipping them together with a paper clip.

"There's absolutely no reason for you to apologize." You kept your smile as you responded to Leon, looking back down at your hands to make sure everything was put together properly. "You forget I strictly work with agents like yourself. From all the vague tellings, I know that the job is tough on you guys; body and mind."

It was weird having someone outside of the agency talk to him about this kind of stuff. It was weird for him to be bringing it up in the first place. Or, at least he felt like it was.

"Still, I should know better than to do that." Leon sighed, rubbing his hand along the side of his face before stroking his chin, scratching at the stubble growing.

"Know better than to do what? Let yourself process everything you've been through?" You spoke in almost a whisper. If your tone was any louder, you fear you'd come off as accusatory.

"I get it. Really, I do." Leon groaned quietly at your words, causing you to click your tongue. You grabbed your swivel chair and scooted it over so you could sit in front of him, and when you did, you brought your legs up to sit criss-cross just like yesterday, only there wasn't a table separating the two of you. You looked solemn. He didn't like where this was going.

"The whole point of painting you a portrait is to honor you and your work as an agent, but it's not just about getting yourself painted." You leaned forward in your chair, elbows resting on your knees, all the while keeping your voice hushed and gentle. "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

Your words were really starting to strike a chord for Leon. He hadn't given it much thought. He didn't want to give it any thought at all. All he thought was "I'm just going to get myself a nice fancy portrait and be done with it". He didn't even consider what the portrait of him would actually symbolize.

"Oh." Was all Leon could muster, letting his gaze fall into his lap where his hands now sat clasped together. If it weren't for the comfortable environment you had set up here, he probably would've bolted ages ago.

You let him think everything over for awhile, wanting to give him all the time in the world. Clearly he needed something, but he wasn't allowing himself any sort of leeway.

It took some courage building internally, but you decided to stand up, taking the one step closer to him before placing your hand on his shoulder once more. You squeezed it a bit, bringing his attention back to you as he lifted his head up.

You attempted to smile at him, moving your hand off his shoulder so you could hold your arms out slightly. This man needed a hug and you were more than willing to offer the leeway he wasn't granting himself.

Leon stood up rather quickly which surprised you, and startled you just a bit, before feeling his large arms tightly wrap around you. It was a little awkward since he had to bend a bit to hug you properly, but it worked out in his favor, and yours too, since he got a better opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck.

He sighed happily when he felt your arms slowly wrap around his chest, doing your best to squeeze him for that extra bit of comfort, even rubbing up and down on his back. It had been so long since he had a real hug. It felt good.

You let him hug you for as long as he needed, which was longer than expected, but definitely not unwelcome by any means. Though, his warm breath against your neck and the smell of his cologne was causing you to blush. That's really the last thing you needed him to see after being so vulnerable and open with you.

You felt him start to pull his head away, prompting you to pat his back gently as an end to the hug. Despite the fact that it was faint, it was clear to you that he was blushing when you were finally able to look up at him.

You wanted to remain calm for Leon, letting out your nervousness through a quiet cough. "I know we've only met up twice, but if you ever need a change in scenery, just know that my workspace here is always open to you. I'm always open to you, okay?"

Your words were making him feel weird. Something he hasn't felt in a long time was creeping up his chest. Your smell lingering on his coat wasn't helping, either.

"Yeah-.. yeah, okay." Leon huffed through his nose, reaching up to scratch at the stubble underneath his jawline as he averted his gaze to the floor.

The sun was fully up now, so you walked over to where the light switches were next to the door, flipping them off. All your other ambient lights could be turned off later. For now, you needed to focus on the man still standing in front of that maroon chair.

"You can stay if you feel you need to, but I just want you to relax." You said, looking over at him as you heard his footsteps slowly walk past you to the living space.

"I'll head out." Leon bent over and grabbed his motorcycle helmet from where he'd set it down on the rug near the floor pillows. He placed his on his head as he walked over to where you stood next to the door, not really wanting anyone to look at his tear-stricken and red face any longer.

Once he finished fiddling with his helmet, you reached out and took his hand in both of yours, patting the top of it softly. "Text me when you're ready to come back over."

You couldn't see Leon's face anymore since he'd put the visor down, but you could definitely see him nod his head. He opened the door and let himself out, touching the side of the doorframe as he rounded the sharp corner and walked down the stairs.

After closing the door behind him, you started walking around your workspace to turn off all the lamps and other ambient lighting, pausing to listen to the sound of his motorcycle start up and drive off.

[angelic-sturniolos111]

Matt’s Teammate 💙

You get selected by Laura to be Matt’s teammate at The Versus Tour. As you compete together, Matt seems a bit off his game, because he has instantly started crushing on you. Matt knows that there’s a chance he may never even see you again… but that changes after he talks with Nick and Chris backstage after the show.

matt sturniolo x fem! reader

warnings: slight cursing

themes: tons of fluff

author’s note: haven’t been to a show yet so idk what order the challenges are in so I might have gotten them mixed up but you get the idea :)

You stood watching the show live from the television backstage waiting for the triplets to introduce their teammates for the challenges. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest— you couldn’t even believe this was genuinely happening to you.

“Okay Y/N, the boys should be ready for you three in about two minutes. I told the other girls to line up by the curtain if you could join them over there for me.” Laura, their manager, said to you gesturing to where the other teammates were standing.

“Sure!… I don’t know if I have ever been this nervous before, honestly.” You say letting out a deep sigh all while a big smile was plastered across your face.

“Awe don’t worry hun they are sweet kids and I’m sure Matt will make you feel comfortable once you’ve sat with him for a bit. Good luck, and remember to have fun!” Laura’s words of encouragement made you feel a bit better. The two of you walked over to the curtain just behind the stage. You could just barely see the stage through the opening of the curtain where you saw the canvases, aprons, and paints already set up for your first challenge.

“Alright you guys so as you already know we have a few challenges set up for us tonight that we will be doing with a fan from tonight’s show. Let’s welcome our teammates for the night!” Nick says through the microphone as the audience erupts in cheers. Oh man, here we go! You think to yourself as you follow the others out past the curtain into the bright stage lights.

Matt’s POV:

I watch as our teammates come on stage, and keep my eye out for a girl in blue. I see as she turns the corner, and I am stunned. She’s dressed in a cute sporty blue top and joggers, but it was her smile that immediately caught my attention. I’ve met tons of fans before, and many of them are very pretty, but she is beautiful. I felt like everything was in slow motion for a moment until she drew me out of my daydream.

“Hi Matt I’m Y/N, it’s so nice to meet you!” Ugh, even her voice was cute! She wraps her arms around my shoulders as mine wrap around her body as we hug. “I am such a big fan of yours!” She says as she gives me a soft squeeze before releasing the hug.

“Awesome!” I replied. Awesome? That was the best I could come up with?

***

We had already begun our “Work of Art” challenge, but I had to stand behind the canvas until the timer was finished. I watched Y/N’s face as she concentrated on painting all while laughing out of nervousness as she switched from color to color sporadically. Luckily, she was too concentrated on the challenge to notice me staring at her, admiring her beauty.

“Dude, Matt literally said the same thing.” Chris’s voice echoes through the microphone. “Right?” He says looking at me for approval. I was so zoned out looking an Y/N that I had no idea what he had even just said.

“Oh.. what? Ohh yeah yeah I did say that.” I stuttered, trying to bring myself back to reality and focus on the performance. Did I say what Chris said I said? No fucking clue. Nick turns and gives me a slightly confused look. “Matt, wake the fuck up we have a show to do bro!” Chris shouts and the audience erupts in laughter and cheers. I smile and let out a small laugh to hide my embarrassment. I turn back to Y/N to see she is already looking up at me with a small grin on her face. Great, now I’m really embarrassed. I’m hoping these colored stage lights can mask the fact that I feel my cheeks burning red at the moment.

Y/N POV:

The score was currently 5:7:8 with Chris in the lead, Nick in second, and Matt and I in last. We were off to a strong start from Matt winning popular vote, and us winning the painting challenge, then Matt scoring most of the baskets in the free throw challenge. We were down to the last challenge, the jenga showdown, which was by far the most tense. Though we were in last, I was still having such an amazing time.

I cheer Matt on as he gently pushes a block from out of the stack and places it on top the tower. He did it so easily and confidently that the audience roared in unison, screaming for Matt.

“Okay, maybe I can redeem myself in jenga, but Chris is still probably going to win… I’m sorry.” Matt turned and said as Nick took his turn. Matt looked at the ground, and had a defeated look on his face.

“Hey, don’t worry about it! We did are best, and we had fun which is far more important than winning in the end anyway.” I say, and he looks up and gives me a smile before putting his arm around me for a side hug. Our hug was interrupted by the audience screaming loudly, and we look to see the jenga blocks on the floor as Nick covers his face with his hands and stomps in anger at his team’s loss.

I cheer for Chris during his “crowning ceremony,” and he gave each of the teammates a hug as we congratulated them. I saw Nick, and gave him a big hug telling him I love him as I totally fangirl. Lastly, I turn to Matt who looks bummed from our loss.

“I had such an amazing time tonight! I hope you three have so much fun on the rest of the tour, and good luck! I’ll be rooting for you.” I say to Matt as I give him one last hug. I was surprised to find that he wasn’t pulling away from the hug right away as to finish the show, but he remained with his arms wrapped around me in a sentimental embrace. “It was great to meet you, Y/N. You’re an amazing teammate.” Matt says as he pulls away from the hug halfway, smiling down at me.

“K dude… let’s go.” Chris nudges Matt, and I realize I am the only teammate left on stage. I pull away fully and wave bye to the triplets as I exit the stage. What a night.

Matt’s POV:

My brothers and I were backstage packing the last of our things after finishing the post-show meet and greet and VIP backstage fan experience.

“Matt, are you okay? You seemed off tonight bro.” Chris says.

“Yeah I was gonna say the same thing but I haven’t had a chance to bring it up since the show ended. Is something going on?” Nick says concerned.

“Yeah… no. I don’t know. It’s stupid.” I said as I continued to pack and try to ignore the conversation.

“Come on Matt, you can tell us!” Says Nick.

“Was your teammate being freaking weird or something? Making you uncomfortable?” Chris exclaims as he comes to my side grabbing the things from my hands and putting them on the couch to stop me in my tracks.

“No she wasn’t weird at all. Her name is Y/N, and she was amazing. She is amazing. I wish you guys could’ve seen more of her because she was just so damn nice and sweet and—”

“Hot?” Chris cuts me off as he laughs.

“Well, yeah. I mean, she was beautiful. Not only that but in between challenges we were talking about how she appreciates my mental health content, and what videos of ours she likes. The whole show too she just had such a positive attitude and it made me feel really… happy. You know?” I said passionately, and I could feel the heat rising in my face once more.

“Aweeee Matty B you have a crush on a fan! That is too cute!” Nick says adoringly. “But seriously, she sounds wonderful. Did you get her social media or anything?” Nick asks, and by this point the three of us are all sitting together on the couch talking about it. I shook my head no.

“Okay, well, you got her name and she was on stage tonight so I’m sure something of her will pop up on social media somewhere.” Chris says.

“Why does it matter if she posts? Sure, I can follow her, but it’s not like I’m ever going to see her again or anything.” I snap at the two as I get off the couch and continue packing my bag.

“But why not though? Yeah she’s a fan, but she looked like she was around our age and she lives in the states as far as we know.” Chris says. “Mmm but she could have a boyfriend.” Chris says hesitantly.

“Or girlfriend!” Nick chimes in.

“Alright whatever, can we let this go and get to the bus?” I said, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder.

***

We walk out of the venue and hear the cheers of those fans who stayed behind after the show to watch us get back on the tour bus. I walked behind Chris and Nick, walking a bit slower, trying to scan the fans for Y/N, but no luck.

On the bus, I reposted the group instagram post of Chris’s win to my story. I took a picture from inside the bus, and captioned it “Even though I lost tonight I had fun, and that’s what matters 💙🩹”. I hit post, and immediately was getting tons of replies and tags. I was casually scrolling through my DM requests, when a username with “Y/N” catches my eye. I click on the request to view the message.

“You’re the best Matt! I hope to see you perform again in the future 🥰” the message read. I click on her profile. No way. It was Y/N! My heart started beating a little faster as I skimmed through her instagram feed. She was insanely attractive, and looked like a great person to be around, which I had gathered from our interaction tonight. I go back to the message and stare at it for a few minutes, my mind and heart racing. Do I reply to her message? Do I ask her out somehow? What if she does have a boyfriend, or girlfriend like Nick said? What if I make a complete ass of myself, or worse, she posts my reply all over the internet? I was playing a million different scenarios in my head. I’ve always been so shy, having trouble talking to girls I like, but my brothers and the fans have really boosted my confidence over this last year. I want to roll with that confidence…

“I had fun tonight, Y/N. You seem like a really great girl, and I would love to see you again if I can.” I typed out. I immediately hit send as to not give myself too much time to rethink my decision. Now, the waiting game. I throw my phone down on the table because staring at the screen waiting for her to reply made me too anxious. Chris and Nick came and sat down with me soon after, and I didn’t dare tell them what I just did in fear they’d yell at me, or tell me I made a huge mistake. Time goes by, and we watch tv as we travel to our next show. My phone dings, and I grab it as quick as I can to open the notification.

“Woah you’re smiling big, who’s that?” Nick asks.

I’m silent for a moment. In disbelief. Smiling from ear to ear.

“It’s Y/N!’

****************************

Thanks for reading my first Sturniolo short! Let me know if you’d want a part two! <3

UPDATE: Part 2 linked here !

[alllgator-blood]

Have you ever wanted to draw something but you fought due to your skill level at the time you decide not to do it

OH ABSOLUTELY, I personally feel like the key to art improvement is trying new things and experimenting often. But the thing about trying new things is that they're typically out of your comfort zone, and often times you're left struggling because you've never had to move your hand in the configuration needed to depict the thing you want? So often times it feels easier to just not do that thing, but you might not improve if you give up when you fight against your own skill level.

I'm wrapping up on a comic and I almost gave up on it because for some reason, I decided "these two should be hunting while this conversation takes place" and I struggled on and off for two days because of my dedication to get this comic out. The payoff to them hunting doesn't even happen til the second page so I really didn't need to do this. I actually have experience with archery but for some reason, I just COULD NOT figure out where to put shamura's arms to make them hold that damn bow.....UNFINISHED COMIC PANELS INCOMING:

Is it perfect? HELL no I think it looks pretty awkward cause I've only been drawing these characters for a few weeks so I'm still getting used to them, and that in combination with drawing them doing action poses after years of drawing slice of life comics is..............not ideal. I'm more used to drawing furries hitting a bong on a garbage covered couch. But that's the thing! I wanna do more fanart for this Violent Video Game, so I need to learn how to draw people holding weapons. If I give up, like half my fanart ideas will never come to fruition, so I think making flawed art is better than making no art at all.

If you're struggling with your art, just absolutely barrel through whatever it is you're struggling with and come back another time in the future to revisit it. Attempt to draw you're struggling with (even if it's like the shittiest worst sketch ever, god knows I have tons of those), save it somewhere, and when you want to give that idea another go, compare the new art to what you did last time. Honestly I wish I tried and failed more than I didn't try at all, I'd have more to show for myself if I took my own advice.

[secretdestinypainter]

Traveling the most beautiful places this 2024:

“Visit to Europe (Vienna)"

In my opinion, traveling is the most interesting thing that is liked by almost half of the people on Earth. Traveling is an adventure that broadens horizons, opens minds and enriches lives. It makes the person happy and fresh of any age, whether it’s about exploring exotic destinations, immersing oneself in different countries and cultures, or simply seeking relaxation in nature and embrace.

Traveling to different countries in a very short time is very difficult to memorize, and making all the events perfectly fully organized or managed is a big task, but having something that makes us memorize about our events in advance is a big support, like tinyti.me website makes this problem easier in today's world by making their website available for us to create events which help in perfect management.

I think Vienna is one of the most beautiful cities in Europe. The historic core of the city is a massive UNESCO Heritage Site brimming with incredible museums, beautiful galleries, and sprawling Baroque palaces.

The city is a history buff’s dream. There’s an incredible café culture, a nearby wine region, tons of amazing eateries, awesome live music (including world-class opera), and much more.

I’ve been coming here for years and I never get tired of visiting. Technically speaking I love the city so much that I used to run tours here!

Naturally, I’ve stayed at countless hotels during my visits. Here’s my list of the best hotels in Vienna:

1. Hotel-Pension Wild

This two-star hotel is one of the few affordable lodgings in the city center. It has simple but bright rooms that feature comfortable beds, plenty of space, and large windows that let in a lot of natural light. The design is a bit dated (the carpeted rooms don’t look particularly stylish) but everything is clean and functional. Rooms include basic amenities like a flatscreen TV, desk, and free Wi-Fi. The bathrooms are pretty small, but they’re clean and the showers have good water pressure. The hotel offers a hearty continental breakfast and the owner is friendly and welcoming. If you’re on a tight budget, there are small, no-frills single rooms with a shared bathroom available as well.

2. Hotel Domizil

This boutique four-star hotel has small, clean rooms with décor that makes you feel like you’re back in Vienna’s imperial past. The rooms have plenty of light and lots of antique touches, such as wooden desks and tables, and upholstered armchairs. Rooms also have free Wi-Fi, a flatscreen TV, and a coffee/tea maker. The bathrooms, while not particularly fashionable (the tiles are kind of ugly), are very spacious and the showers have excellent water pressure. The breakfast, which can be included in the price, has tons of variety, including lots of different fresh breads and cheeses.

Located in the city center, I think this is one of the best value places to stay if you want to be in the center of it all.

3. Hotel Mozart

One of the few hotels in the Rossau neighborhood (just northwest of the city center), this budget-friendly three-star hotel boasts large rooms with lots of natural light. Rooms are spacious and decorated in light colors and feature hardwood or parquet floors. There are lots of other wooden touches too, such as desks/tables, and large wooden headboards. Free Wi-Fi is included, as is a flatscreen TV and AC (a must if you’re visiting in the summer). Some rooms include coffee machines. The hotel boasts a filling breakfast spread each morning with lots of fresh fruit and pastries. There’s also a bar on-site and the staff are always happy to share their tips and advice too.

4. Hotel Johann Strauss

Located in the Wieden neighborhood, this stylish four-star hotel is named after the eponymous 19th-century Austrian composer. The hotel is set in a historic Art Nouveau building that’s been entirely renovated, with rooms that have lots of natural light and a soft, welcoming color palette. Rooms include a flatscreen TV, minibar, coffee/tea maker, desk, and sofa. I really like that there’s a lot of art around the property, including in the rooms (naturally, much of the art is music centered). The tiled bathrooms are huge, with lots of light and great water pressure. I especially like that the breakfast buffet is enormous and features a lot of variety. The staff is exceptionally friendly too and happy to help you make the most of your stay.

5. Hotel Am Konzerthaus Vienna

Located in Landstrasse near the iconic Belvedere Palace, this luxe four-star hotel feels more like a five-star property. It has a chic lobby and large, bright rooms with super comfy beds. Everything is fashionable and trendy, with lots of rich colors from a darker palette. The large bathrooms are bedecked with dark tiles and are well lit, featuring plush bathrobes and relaxing rain showers. Rooms also include a flatscreen TV, desk, and coffee/tea maker. The breakfast buffet is huge and has a lot of options, but I especially love that the on-site restaurant has a Michelin star (it does amazing modern takes on traditional Austrian dishes).

The hotel is a perfect choice for travelers who want some luxury without breaking the bank.

6. The Ritz-Carlton Vienna

This is arguably the fanciest hotel in town. A five-star property right in the heart of the city, this hotel is spread across four historic palaces (yes, actual palaces). While the hotel feels palatial, it has understated décor with a chic minimalist design (think lots of white space with touches of color or artwork). The marble bathrooms are huge and the showers have perfect water pressure. The rooms are also massive and have big, comfy beds (as well as desks, AC, sofas, and electric kettles).

There’s also a gigantic breakfast buffet offered each morning and a free glass of champagne when you check in. The hotel also has a pool that plays music underwater, a fitness center, sauna, steam room, and three different spas on-site. In short, it’s the pinnacle of luxury in the city and the best choice for travelers looking to splurge on an elegant stay.

I hope this blog helps you a lot when traveling next time to Europe (Vienna), So, whether you're embarking on a solo adventure, a family vacation, or a romantic getaway, This spirit of travel guides you on a journey of exploration, discovery, and adventure.

[namor-shuri]

Marvel Studios Assembled & Wakanda Forever Podcast: Namor/Shuri + Tenoch/Letitia Moments

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Marvel Studios Assembled: The Making of Wakanda Forever [available on Disney +] [w/ time stamps to follow along]

▻ The whole cast comforted and gave Letitia a group hug at San Diego Comic Con as she broke down [Tenoch kissed her shoulder] [0:27]

▻ “We know what Black Panther is but what makes it a Black Panther movie? If we were to do another one….how would audiences recognize it?” - Ryan Coogler [Director] [5:44]

▻ We learn that Namor’s character was discussed to be in Black Panther 2 while the first movie was being written. “In the comics, the two worlds have a great rivalry” - Joe Robert Cole [Screenwriter] [13:25]

▻ Ryan was interested in Meso-American culture for the Talokanil and “…upon research it became more clear that the people of the Yucatán made a ton of sense.” - Ryan Coogler [Director] [14:40] They wanted to give Namor a culture/background different from the comic book version [a white man]. “Their [Mayan] artwork and their advanced agriculture…all of these things that they accomplished, it was a perfect palette for us to delve into.” - Joe Robert Cole [Screenwriter] [16:40]

▻ Namor’s costumes and headpieces are curated from post Yucatec Mayan culture roots. “We used a lot of kelp and things to make the headdress and hand wove his cape, but we kept it pure to what he looked like in the comics.” - Ruth Carter [Costume Designer] [17:50]

▻ Ryan and Hannah Beachler [Production Designer] show us the set of Namor’s cave and explain the time/labor that went into creating this elaborate set. Ryan points to the mural painting of Namor and the Black Panthers fight. “This one’s my favorite one” - Ryan Coogler [Director] [22:25] We learn that the style of art is “Bonampak”

▻ Letitia had to learn how to swim for her role, along with the majority of the cast. “I struggled with it. Ryan called me and he was like ‘Tish, can you swim?’ I was like ‘Sir, sir, I’m in the lab. What more do you need from me coming out of that lab?” - Letitia Wright [Shuri] [26:06]

▻ All of the water scenes were half filmed under water, called “wet for wet”, and filmed outside of the water, called “dry for wet” scenes. The exosuits [Shuri is shown wearing one when exploring Talokan] were real suits that were also filmed underwater and were about a million and a half dollars each [explained by Chris Denison, Stunt Coordinator] [29:40]

▻ A clip of Letitia Wright’s “Screen Test (2016)” from the first Black Panther is shown [41:54] and we learn that Dominique Thorne [Riri Williams] also auditioned for Shuri’s role a while back

▻ The cast had differing emotions/opinions than Ryan about the decision to kill Queen Ramonda [played by Angela Basset]. “When I read that Ramonda was going to die by the hands of Namor, I was very upset. I think I almost cried on the phone to Ryan.” - Letitia Wright [Shuri] [43:43] Ryan and the writers felt her death would be a big “motivator”/ transformative moment in Shuri’s development and the eventual break down of her character to become the Black Panther [her arc]

▻ Ryan supported and pushed Letitia during the whole process of becoming the Black Panther to do her best work and continuously reminded her of who she was and what she was capable of when stepping into the role. Letitia wished Chad could have passed the torch to her himself to do it [46:02] + [55:03]

▻ [Referring to the making of Shuri’s Black Panther suit] “We were working with the design language of silver being representative of T’Challa, gold being representative of T’Chaka, and the little bit of where Killmonger’s coming from…We’re essentially taking those two elements and combining them.” - Ryan Meinerding [Head of visual development] [46:58]

▻ “Shuri vs Namor. We put alot into that fight.” - Aaron Toney [Fight Coordinator] [49:59] We see that a lot of the BTS of their big fight on the desert were shot with different individual sets with Tenoch, Letitia and stunt actors, separately and together. “I’m so proud of it. Shuri’s looking amazing, Namor’s looking amazing.” - Letitia Wright [Shuri] [50:27] Their fighting styles are explained to be very different, where Shuri is more calculated and Namor is more in his body. “With Namor, when it came to fighting styles, I pulled from….cultural aspects like Lucha Libre…asian cultures…I pulled from a style called Baji.” - Aaron Toney [Fight Coordinator] [50:49]

▻ “Processing in a way of expressing her pain and fury towards Namor, she thinks that’s going to be satisfying to her soul and it’s not….I think that’s a beautiful way to complete that arc, to realize that my brother wouldn’t do this, my mother wouldn’t want this for me….We see Shuri become a woman in her own right.” - Letitia Wright [Shuri] [53:00]

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Wakanda Forever: The Official Black Panther Podcast [Hosted by Ta-Nehisi Coates]: Chapter 5 w/ Letitia Wright, Tenoch Huerta, Dr. Gerardo Aldana [available on Spotify]

▻ “What does it mean when Wakanda and Talokan give us a beauty created not to justify enslavement but to celebrate freedom?” - Ta-Nehisi Coates [Host]

▻ Tenoch continues to put the spotlight back on indigenous communities/culture and does not claim to be apart of their experiences. “I don’t practice the culture so it is impossible to name myself indigenous….I’m not pretending to be something that I’m not…I’m just trying to honor my ancestors.” - Tenoch Huerta [Namor]

▻ A fan went to the movies with his Mayan grandma and she began to translate scenes herself while watching the film with him. “The Mayan group in LA said it [the character’s Mayan in the movie] sounds beautiful. You have an accent, it sounds good! They were happy with it.” - Tenoch Huerta [Namor]

▻ “Why are these two groups [Wakandans and the Talokanil] fighting each other? Why can’t they get together and go beat the colonizer?…I am a huge Black Panther fan but I was sitting there and found myself rooting for the Talokanil!” - Ta-Nehisi Coates [Host]

▻ Letitia was bullied in school for her appearance when she was growing up (ex. her size, being African, etc) “I kind of let that go…I talked myself out of the idea that I should be like anyone else.” She found comfort/ amusement in going viral on TikTok. “It’s definitely flattering but I’m really shocked…I’ve never been crushed on before in school…As a black woman, I’m moving into a space where I’m finally being called beautiful but I didn’t wait for them [the media/world] to tell me that at first. I told it to myself.” - Letitia Wright [Shuri]

▻ “This is the highest grossing movie with the lead character as a black woman and it’s you [Letitia]. How does that feel?” - Ta-Nehisi Coates [Host]

▻ “The love that Shuri has for T’challa is the love that Letitia has for Chadwick and that’s intertwined.” Letitia shares her initial hesitancy about doing the film without Chadwick after his passing and taking on the mantle as Black Panther. “I see it as I’m a vessel. I’m a trusted vessel that’s here to honor my brother.” - Letitia Wright [Shuri]

▻ Letitia laughs about fun moments they had on the set of Wakanda Forever. “He [Ryan Coogler] would say Namor and the Black Panther are having a conversation. It’s a big movie. Turn your phones off!” - Letitia Wright [Shuri]

[seventeenlovesthree]

@izumikoushiroweek: Day 2 - What are your Koushirou headcanons?

I probably have way too many headcanons for him to count, so I thought I'd be talking about 12, relating to each of the other Chosen Children and his Digimon partner.

Tentomon: As implied in this art, Tentomon has to remind Koushirou to not only use his PC set-up for work at times, but to get in touch with the outside world as well, including calling his parents. They maintain having a very loving bond and Koushirou actually enjoys talking to his family, even if he has that tendency to get lost in Chosen Children duty, thus pulling way too many allnighters in his office. Tentomon helps practicing to "talk about feelings" and such and since he was always integrated in almost all of Koushirou's activities as emotional support or "personal assistant" (aside from occasionally getting back into the server realm or Digital World to "recharge"), their bond has never vanished. (Practicing also includes hugs. Tentomon loves them dearly. Koushirou does too.)

Taichi: I probably have a million different headcanons when it comes to their bond, but I think one of the things I am particularly fond of is the idea that Taichi easily picked up on Koushirou's quirks and habits over the years - and that's why he notices stuff others don't realize that quickly. He is very particular about what exact brands of oolong tea Koushirou likes, that he cannot stand coffee or doesn't take alcohol very well. They also have tons of insiders and catchphrases other people just give them weird looks over. They're basically on each other's speed dial, especially considering they're working together as adults. And, last but not least, I think Taichi would be the very first human friend who learns about Koushirou's adoption history, being incredibly supportive about it. (One time, Yuuko probably said something along the lines of "If I could, I would already have adopted Koushirou-kun into our family" and Taichi almost flipped because of the wording, but Koushirou told him it was fine, since he knew she meant it well. They both get along with each other's moms very well by the way.)

Yamato: After they returned from the Digital World for the first time, Yamato actually fulfilled his (PSP game only) promise and showed Koushirou how to cook a few easy recipes (besides how to boil the perfect egg). While Koushirou will probably never be a master cook and prefers stuff that is easy to make/get and eat - and while working -, food is actually something they occasionally bond over. They may not be as passionate about it as Mimi and Daisuke, but they'd absolutely surprise the others with their very own curry creations.

Sora: I've probably mentioned this a million times already, but in my mind, they're destined to become "fashion (and texting) buddies". Takeru - as well as Mimi or Miyako - may be a hundred times more comfortable in being experimental, but these two definitely have to figure themselves out first and foremost, breaking some gender stereotypes in the meantime and would 100% be there for each other (while moping and bonding over Taichi's and Yamato's antics). Let Sora help Koushirou to find his own personal wardrobe while he would support her in getting her designs going digitally - once the time is right.

Mimi: Since Mimi slowly but steadily becomes more acquainted with technology through the years, it shouldn't be surprising that they're becoming "calling buddies". Mimi always preferred calling over typing and since Koushirou is helping her to set up her online business, they also end up chatting for hours without end about literally everything - and they absolutely suck at ending their calls. Mimi keeps telling Koushirou to rest, but she's terrible at just saying "Bye then!". Time zone differences make this even more of an issue and it often happens that one of them just falls asleep while the other rambles.

Jyou: Gomamon and Tentomon forced them to become "coffee shop buddies". I'm not kidding. They were so fed up with them burying themselves in uni/regular work that they ended up making them have "Go outside for a change, let's grab something to eat!!!" meetings once a month (at minimum, since Gomamon was done with cooking and wanted to get treats too and Tentomon loved the idea; occasionally they pull Sora and/or Taichi with them too). Since Jyou never felt intimidated by Koushirou's intellect but knows his struggles with "keeping his mental health together", they have an easy time blowing off some steam.

Takeru: Koushirou and Takeru actually grew closer with each other during "transition years" between middle and high school. With Taichi, Yamato and Sora facing high school entrance exams and eventually leaving middle school, Koushirou was more likely to spend time after school with "the 02 squad" for a while (and the two of them and Hikari would definitely have study sessions together at this point in time). Takeru is also among those who's more skilled with computers, which is why he's easily third admin of the Chosen Children network (with Miyako being second), but also likes to ask Koushirou for advice - who happily rambles along (and they're also "meme buddies", sending each other random stuff in the middle of the night they came across and thought the other would find interesting). Takeru will also be among the first who gets to hear about his adoption history in more detail and he'll absolutely feel more attached to Koushirou because of it.

Hikari: Aside from me being convinced that he is archiving all the photos she's been taking in the Digital World for years (while also helping her to set up her own digital photobooks), one of my favourite headcanons is that Hikari's the main reason why Koushirou turned out to be "a cat person"; he has been around the Yagami residence way too many times in his life and probably thought he couldn't really "get along" with cats in general. But Miko, after having been reluctant at first, warmed up to him rather quickly after Hikari kept her around in the same room as them. So the cat would just end up resting next to him while he was typing away on his laptop. (Sometimes he watches Tentomon curling into a ball when falling asleep next to him and Koushirou cannot help but feel reminded of a cat as well and he finds it adorable.)

Daisuke: Despite Ken being the closest person to him overall, Daisuke has had a hard time talking to Koushirou for YEARS, still having a tendency of wanting to appear extra smart in front of him. It was a lot easier when Taichi, Ken or Mimi were around, he could talk normally then, but even worse when Takeru was there too, because he felt double-intimidated. Koushirou noted that behaviour, didn't get it though, so Taichi had to explain it to him in a sense of "Imagine being the new kid in football club that thinks he can't kick a ball if the ace striker is watching him", to which Koushirou just nodded. They absolutely met for a football match a few days later - and that's how Koushirou ended up in goal, Daisuke, who scored numerous goals against him, started to act a lot less tense afterwards.

Ken: Imagining a scenario in which Menoa gets redeemed (and maybe after they find a way to get their partners back), I could see Koushirou and Ken being very keen to make her realize that she should also rather invest her intellect in improving the infrastructure between the worlds instead of harbouring feelings of vengeance and bitterness... They're all smart muffins with bug babies after all. (And Koushirou would definitely be interested in figuring out why both Ken and Menoa were so prone to "getting corrupted" while he himself was mostly spared... They're not exactly prone to trauma dumping, Ken in particular struggles with it a lot, but that's another case of "once he knows Koushirou's back story, it gets easier to open up.")

Miyako: Miyako pretends that she's bothered by Chosen Children Network duty a lot, and it maaaay be a bit bothersome at times, but the truth is that she felt intimidated by all the effort Koushirou put into it. Aside from Iori, she always looked up to him as senpai the most and didn't want to appear incapable in comparison. If Koushirou didn't know he could entrust it to her, he would have given it to Takeru first, but despite her spunky, sometimes unpredictable nature, he trusted in her judgement and communicative skills from the start without a doubt.

Iori: By the start of his uni life, Iori really values the privacy of Koushirou's office to use it as study space - especially because he's getting resources there for law school he wouldn't easily get access to without spending horrendous amounts of money. And because they just enjoy each other's company, being a lot more grounded than the rest of their friends. Just like in middle school, they end up having study sessions, often joined by Takeru, but also occasionally by Ken, going through several of their study subjects - sometimes they even go for outside activities (because Koushirou is most likely not used to those anymore and needs to keep up on physical training too - when they get the opportunity, they take Jyou with them too).

[demure2]

Blood is Thicker Than Wine _ ONE

> BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WINE [MASTERLIST]

— 1930s au

— yandere neighbor!chanyeol x reader || ft. best friend!sehun

— genre: angst, suggestive

— warnings: language, alcohol use, cigarette/substance use, mental illness, watching from afar, anxiety, gun, blood, older fella chanyeol

— word count: 3.1k

— note: this story has been in my drive for 3 years, even tho this is the first piece on my account. i even had a timeline at the bottom of my draft to make sure war dates and stuff lined up hehe. it's O.K. if this doesn't do well since i'm writing for fun, but i'm happy i got at least part one of this out! then i can finally put this series to rest. i’m sorry that this kinda introductory part doesn’t have many interactions with chanyeol yet. i want to accurately convey the reader’s relationship with sehun before i make it fall apart :)

Girls like you loathe compliance but act it, anyway. You go against rules and you wear two faces, but you’re still compliant because nobody knows. Nobody suspects a thing, and you’ll keep it that way.

There’s not much to it, really: keep your papers in neat stacks, your dollars in even neater stacks, and your mouth shut. It’s a commitment, but it's applicable to the art of both compliance and not. That’s how this town runs. Girls like you are compliant.

Lately, alcohol traffic has been wedging tension into champagne bottles ready to pop, like faulty cork stoppers. Tenfold, and you’ve seen it. Tons of progeny craft succumbing to the paradigm of unrelentless violations of law, but you swore to never break the rules. That includes even the unspoken ones, like knowing to not mess with the neighborhood weirdo, Mr. Park.

Technically, you were just helping your best friend Sehun deliver night mail. It’s part of his job. 

“What a hound,” Sehun pants, steadying himself by gripping the fabric layering over your shoulder with calloused hands. Orphically, his brown irises are suddenly void of any liveliness. He’s exasperated, pupils fitfully blown out wide, the onyx barrier warped in various ways. Ways that make him look wild, more unimaginably feral than the manor overgrown with vines and rusted trellises in front of you.

 “I gummed up the works on this one,” he coos, lowly. Sehun’s arm parts from your shoulder to clutch his heart, breath hitching. He shudders, even in the cooling night zephyr. “Guess your momma was right all along,” he breathes. Mimicking a high-pitched voice, “stop hanging out with Sehun! He’s a neighborhood no-good nick who delivers mail for a few cents!”

You grin, wide. “So?”

Sehun looks at you like a stray pet. “Town mail won’t deliver itself,” you offer. "You’re an author, too, delivering your own work. That’s important. Don’t say useless things to me, Sehun.” The tone of the night becomes less tense. Smirking, you continue: “relax, then tell me what happened in that freak’s house.”

Your teeth bite down on your tongue, eyes narrow and reflecting the moonlight. 

You don’t know why you’re expecting a longer, well thought-out response from the Sehun you’re looking at right now. His short hair damp from the sweat and mild rain, parted in awkward tranches - you’re not used to comforting him, although it feels good to be the one seeing Sehun vulnerable, for once.

While you’re waiting for Sehun to rearrange his thoughts, you run your hand against the bars of iron separating you from the front yard of the manor. The sounds are a symphony of metal clink-clanks against your graceful nails, free of overgrown cuticles or ragged whites, unlike Sehun’s. The bars are hollow iron, but their wounds are merely rusted scratches, like they don’t give in over the years. 

Neither does Sehun.

Lazed back. Real lazy. Doesn’t like thinking about what he is, why he is, who he is. He’s thought about it before; things like whether or not cabbage was really nutritious (it’s just water), whether or not he wanted to be a writer forever, whether or not he should tell you about the car shop home, whether or not he loved you more than just a friend. 

It’s fated, and so he doesn’t bother to delve deeper than what he needs to know. He just knows that it’s all bliss when he’s with you. And he knows that he’s in love with this life: the rush, the fights, hell, he had almost forgotten his dad was a cop. Just like magnets, though polar opposites, you stick together. Late night escapades into the apple of the town was just another habit branded deep into your history.

He feels like laughing at his own inanity, so he parts his lips, but not even the chuckle at the edge of his throat makes it past. Something irks him uncomfortably about what happened tonight, so he clears his gullet filling up with phlegm and blames the bright waning moon. It used to be so full of itself, now only a needle in the vista expanse of night. Sehun breathes harder now, because he realizes that they’re not so different.

Sehun finally speaks: “Well, I just tried to throw the freak his mail. But I think I set off his flares, doll. Mr. Park - he’s really a bent man, broken after the war. There was an iron on his hip, a-and as soon as I saw it leave his belt loop, I didn't have a doubt that he’s not wicked.”

Sehun’s joints ache uncomfortably despite wherever he shifts his weight toward, so he leans against the tall wire fence guarding the manor. He feels an ivy trickle down the nape of his neck everytime he tilts his head to the side. Nuances here, nuances there. Last time you both were out here, there weren’t any ivies. Were there?

Mr. Park stands leaning back, intently listening from the arch door frame that separated his balcony from his quarters.

These kids talk so loudly, he thinks, he could hear your entire exchange from up here. The yellow cast light from his bedroom fights with the dark to illuminate his figure carefully in the night, but he knows that you’re both still unable to see him from the ground angle. He feels slightly creepy, standing there in his satin dress shirt and work jeans. He pulls out his gun one more time, loosely, just to swing it. 

Feeling watched, you decide that you both shouldn’t be there any longer. Sehun’s teeth grind against each other eagerly for a taste other than his own metallic blood being drawn. Yawning, his mouth goes dry and his throat parches, longing for the feeling of smoke in his lungs.

Sehun knows he shouldn’t smoke around you. He doesn’t want to ruin your innocence, but he can’t help it. He wishes he had better self-control and restraint, but even so, you were clearly too much of a goody-two-shoes to care. “Drop dead Sehun, are you stupid? How’d he get a gun in this old town? Those are so hard to even-”

“Everybody knows they’re prohibited, doll. It must be ‘cause he’s a veteran, the govs decide that they don’t need to necessarily establish regulations with them,” Sehun glances up back at the house. You know he’s just said a bunch of nonsense.

“Somethin’ like that,” he continues. “Like it’s any work.” He almost scoffs, reaching into his pocket upon instinct. He doesn’t notice, but you’re intently watching. 

You follow his hands well, when he rubs the nape of his neck and pulls out a Marlboro from his tattered satchel. Same satchel that’s been long worn with dirt and grease but vacant of textbooks, pencils, or really a real use, ever since the start of freshman year in college. Sehun still stands that it serves purpose in his mail business. 

He shuts his eyes tight as he lights it between his lips, drawing out the smoke for as long as he can. It blows away in the wind, but you scrunch your nose, in the contingency it dissolves in your nostrils.

You pressed Sehun for more: “Don’t you care that Mr. Park’s gonna smell the smoke? His window’s open and he could still be on his balcony for all we know,” you advise him, worried. “And what’s Mr. Park doing with a gun at this hour, anyway? You could see it from the ground? Should we rat him out?”

Sehun shrugs, not letting on much. 

The smoke ignites something in you, you think. “Sehun, answer me! Isn’t this technically trespassing? Shouldn’t we leave now? All that stuff you said about Mr. Park’s makin’ me nervous.”

He finally feels free and empty of apprehension when he lets go of the cigar, balanced between his lips. He feels powerful. But before he can halt the smile that plays at the curve of his mouth, he chuckles a dry, derisive laugh laced with smoke. “Just decided to be nice this week and stop skippin’ his address on the newspaper list for once. Only trespassin’ if we go beyond his door, these front gates bind nothing,” Sehun smirks. “You should know that by now.”

Thin to a whisper, you display a frown. “I don’t hop as many fences as you. Who knows what else this Park guy has, he’s the real deal, gat and all. You should know that before you do anything else, you fool.”

But he grins right back, and he grins wide. “I should? How touché.” 

When he proves satisfied with the gasper, Sehun withdraws the smoke from between his lips and thrusts it toward the grass. It doesn’t burn the damp grass, barely at all. Just tucks itself neatly in a pile of dandelions, the tarnished flame still warmer than the muted yellows surrounding it.

Quickly, almost lunging himself off, Sehun hoists his body up from the iron gate and firmly turns his heel on the cigar, smiling. 

 And when he lifts up his shoe, even under the dim haze of the moon, you can see that the mud has been imprinted deep into the design on the sole of his shoe and the weeds have been stomped flat, butt of the cigar crushed. He finally lifts his eyes to converge with yours and he deadpans, “You know, you’re gonna want a smoke one day, too,” pausing. “Finally want one, doll?”

Doesn’t Sehun know how to properly take care of a girl?

His hand lazed onto your shoulder leaning on the gate post, your eyes glued to the dirt. He wants you to look up, but his gaze is the only thing holding you down. You can’t break free from his glare, lidded and dazed. 

Last night’s rain drips down the manor’s primary parapet beam. A premonition?

“I don’t need more mess in my life right now.” You hadn’t intended for it to come out so harsh and raspy, but Sehun didn’t pay much attention to it.. “Your parents are too pliant, Sehun.”

Mr. Park sighs a breath of relief. You can take care of yourself. He runs a stiff, left hand through his hair. He wouldn’t have to think about Sehun taking advantage of your company. He quietly hums an incisive tune, like a victory sequence. 

“Give it a try. I know your momma doesn’t like me so much anymore, thinkin’ we’re doin-this and doin-that. You don’t gotta do anything you don’t want to, alright?” He reassures you, something you’re grateful for. “I’m just saying, you can’t be such a high-pillow all the time and expect fun. Even if we landed in jail, my dad’d let us out,” Sehun tilts his head down to hide his smile under his breath, giddy.

“I’m not a high-pillow! Can’t we just go to the next address now?”

Ignoring your question, he’s totally replaying the scene over and over in his head. In his pocket, Sehun crosses his middle over his index. He did not like the feeling of mild defeat. At a weak attempt to cure his frustration, his hand rubs at his forehead. Instead, he’s inundated by the dewy sweat collecting at his brow. How could I let Chanyeol scare me off like that? 

You change the subject. Softer, quieter, your voice barely cuts through the air. “Sehun?” Your voice seems to awaken him a bit. Quickly, he mutters underneath his breath, “huh? What?” His mouth parts uncomfortably, small drops of rain collecting on his bottom lip and cupid's bow. 

“You look like tonight’s over. We can walk home now, you’re very pale.”

Sehun responds, an equally modest, “I’m okay.” Insisting, “let’s hang out a little longer,” pausing to offer a smile. “Gumshoe.”

A smile peels your lip open. “Oh yeah?”

Acquiescently, he smiles. “Oh yeah.”

“Then let’s get out of here.”

Sehun winces. “Not yet. Don’t bleed anything against me, ‘kay detective?”

Sehun steadies himself against the tall iron fence again, and it hits him like cold deja vu against his spine. The metal presses deeper into the valleys of his back this time like a knife, but still, he doesn’t move. Instead, he lets it cave against his skin even more, jutting through the fabric of his dress shirt. He takes another look at the smothered cigarette hidden in the grass and laughs a hearty laugh. All he smells is ash and wet dew.

And then, rather obscenely, it comes crashing down on him like dead weight. 

“You know, Chanyeol pulled the gun on me first, looking down on me from that balcony. Then tauntingly, he pointed it back toward himself. What would you do?” Sehun says honestly, turning to face you.

“His blown out eyes wide, but completely still. I’m so pissed that I was scared. Fuckin’ embarrassin’.” he grumbles, matter of factly, a frown thin between his lips as if he’s proven his own point wrong.

“Chanyeol?”

Fuck! “Oh, yeah. That’s his first name. Chanyeol. It means ‘loser’ in the ‘i-can’t-get-any-girls’ language.”

Chanyeol quirks a brow, leaning onto the side railing, still hidden. 

You can’t help but snort. “And why would he do such a thing? Was his tongue stickin’ out too?”

It’s hard to tell where the fabrication starts, but with a pat to your head and a hum in validation, Sehun opens his mouth to protest. “What makes you think he wouldn’t? He’s the town freak.”

Shrugging, you scan the line of trees enveloping the path down the hill. “No, I mean that he was makin’ fun of you with that face.”

 “Sure,” he nods. “But you cannot twist the truth, and the truth is all I’ve been telling you. Don’t you see? That’s creepy, he was pointing the rod at himself. I didn’t want to be responsible in case he actually pulled it, so I left, but now I know that he has no limits. He was ready to die, [Y/N]. This guy’s got no girls, and he’s creepy. You should stay away from him.”

Sehun’s story is like a leaky faucet. It holds enough truth to be believable, but somewhere in the piping, it doesn’t go over well with you. But you believe him. 

Your mind becomes numb and somber for a moment, but the feeling is botched. As if the anesthesiologist didn’t know better, unable to properly administer the drug, and you could still recall Sehun’s words in your head. They lay heavy on your heart, yet you’re not prosaically thinking into the consequences, at all.

Maybe Mr. Park wasn’t as insane as the town recalled him to be. Sehun suddenly speaks. “What a crumb, huh? I don’t think that man’s has mercy on anyone, not even himself.” 

An epiphany makes you feel sick, like a bully. Kids swirl baseless rumors around him. “What are you implying? That he’s lonely and lonely people are crazy?”

“I mean, yeah. He’s a vet, after all. What’s surprising?”

“Listen, you - I mean, Mr. Park, he-he doesn’t have the motive. Stop giving him motives. Rumors say he studied business after his discharge from the draft. That manor of his is built on years of liquified assets, why would he put it all on the line?”

Mr. Park stifles a laugh. You’re defending him. 

Sehun shuts his eyes to think, and for a second you think he’s going to reach into his bag for another cigar, but you think he’s really thinking this time. Sehun definitely knows he is; maybe it’s the lingering tobacco in his throat, maybe it’s the aftershock of what he just said, but he’s really thinking, fitfully. “I - I don’t know, [Y/N]. Maybe he deserves it, for all the people he’s killed.”

A flicker of candlelight moves in your peripheral vision. You nervously glance up at the manor’s ridiculously high arch windows, and wince in horror as the orange glow casted on the balcony shifts. It’s dimmer this time, because there is quite clearly someone blocking the light.

 And the silver alloy shotgun in their grasp gleams under the lunar projection, very, very jeeringly. 

They stand there, eerily forlorn. Lacking real tone or emotion, barren. A machiavellian with a .357 in the limelight pointed dejectedly at the ground. The candlelight behind the figure filters around the silhouette like a stencil on a black canvas, a ghastly spectacle.

And as his arm rises, gun following your bodies, a ghastly spectacle, indeed. It’s hard to tell who he’s aiming at because of the distance. 

The only thing more daunting than the sight itself was the sound of silence. Sehun mutters a curse beneath his breath, beginning to crouch next to you on the dirt. You feel his hands lightly traipse your torso, yearning for your palms in the dark. He first finds your thumb, tender on your clavicle. Then your index, playing with your blouse cloth. You’re glad he doesn’t feel your heartbeat above all, otherwise he would have felt the throb of fear and the mop of tangled love strings evident in the moment. 

Instead, he squeezes your palms together and intertwines your fingers on a whim. Sweaty and scared, they mangle like ropes. He doesn’t know what he’s doing at first, but it was the only way he knew how to provide enough ease for the both of you. It always offers him a little warmth; besides, you were both in danger.

You shudder. “The cover here isn’t good enough,” you whisper. “I bet he’s been listening in on us, Sehun. You see his gat?” Your teeth are chattering now, despite the cooling atmosphere.

“I don’t know what your mama tells you dolly, but now ... we fucking run.” He wants to tighten his grip on his hands on you further and take off like that, but he knows your nature and psyche too well to do that. 

Your chattering halts, “He’s going to see us. And shoot us.” Suddenly apathetic, Sehun finally muses, “Alright. Let’s stay here until that husk of a man leaves.” He exhales, blowing the strands of black hair from his eyes, “promise.” 

Sehun was never very good with promises, and you realize that too late. The fingers caught in yours are already replaced with air and are instead wrapped around your wrist. He juts out his hip, and rises to his full stand. He’s very tall. “Sorry doll. Lied.”

Your stomach sinks. “What are you, a puppy? Do I have to pick you up myself?” He’s towering over you, height teetering past the gate that separated Mr. Park’s property from the town’s. “Sehun, get down, there’s going to be a metal shell in your head anytime now!” With a swift kick to your knee, he pulls you up from the dirt before you can even feel the jolt against your joints, and runs against the wind with you.

[shelandsorcery]

making good use of my rearranged space with a big decadent abstract every-colour-i-own watercolour painting!

A few shots of said rearrangement:

I took my 70" tall extra-deep Ivar shelf (which I have had since the 1990s, no joke, this fucker's a family heirloom) and sawed the frame in half, so now I have two 35" tall extra deep Ivars forming a kind of console across the back wall of my studio!

I use the extra-deep Ivar shelves for large paper storage first and foremost -- at approximately 33 x 20", they hold a much bigger sheet of paper than any drawer system I can currently afford. While dust is a factor, keeping the height of the paper storage shelves at a minimum does help. And in the end, I don't use that paper unless I can see it, thanks to my personal brand of neurospice, so this is the best compromise I've found. The deep shelves also allow me to use long baskets, clear tupperware, and such to store things; and on the shelf behind the table I have a ton of sketchpads and masonite boards and illustration board etc stored upright, which is the best for me in terms of accessibility since I only have one strong arm to lift things with and sliding things out from under huge piles of heavy books is a nightmare. There's definitely a need for a better organization system within that big chaos area on the lower right, but one step at a time, right?

What this does is takes a lot of the traditional art making space and art supply storage space needs off of my computer desk space, which will hopefully help my day job work feel more spacious and comfortable too. As you can see, I build cluttered nests as I work; it is My Way.

Anyways, it's a fun spot I am very happy with so far and I thought I'd share!

[rhonuscorner]

Oop Five Nights At Freddie's fanart. Who would've thunk it. I've never considered myself a huge Fnaf fan but Security Breach, flaws and all, I adore the setting and the characters in that one and I'm in too deep. I've never played it (or any Fnaf game) because fuck that, I'm a coward and too much of an anxiety ridden mess to deal with jump scares and chase scenes, but I do love watching let's plays.

I am hopelessly OBSESSED with these two right now. Have been for a while but I've been trying to resist getting too attached because I already have so many fandoms and characters to hyper-fixate on... and then the Ruin DLC happened and gave me tons of feels and my obsession with them turned nuclear, resistance was futile and now here we are lol. I have accepted my fate.

I've also been binge reading Solar Lunacy by @bamsara which... y'know, didn't help because that's been keeping me up at night lmao. Had me mad cackling at 2:30am more than once. My sleep schedule is ruined :') BUT THAT'S OKAY. Will probably end up doing some fanart for that too at some point >>; Too many good scenes~

ANYWAY. Never drawn them before, this is just a quick and somewhat messy doodle to see if I can even draw 'em decently and get comfortable with it because this is not an art style I'm very familiar with. The Daycare boys lend themselves well for a more cartoony style which... is not something I do usually. But it was fun! For a first attempt I'm happy with it. I really enjoy drawing them (especially the gremlin on the right).

I will definitely develop my take on them more, there's a few things I do wanna change in how I draw them and I have tons of ideas now, which is good because this artblock is killing meeeeeeeeeeee. I'm just gonna use them to draw stupid shit and dumb jokes and hopefully some actual proper illustrations and hopefully get back into the flow of things (I keep saying that and it never works but PLZ T-T). I still don't have my PC back but once I do that's also gonna make things easier. And faster. Fingers crossed :')

Anyway, I am now officially on the Simping for both the murderous jester bot and the adorable Daycare Attendant who deserves all the hugs and then some bandwagon yeeeeeeeeeeee.

For non-Fnaf fans, feel free to block my Fnaf tags (Rhonu blogs Fnaf and/or Rhonu draws Fnaf) if you need to because there's gonna be more.

[flashnthunder]

Miscellaneous tag game

@grumpy-liebgott and @sharkboyandlavalieb tagged me <333 and i am of course a million years late

Favorite place in the world you’ve visited?

inside the us i would say maine, i love the ocean/forest combo it's got going on

Something you’re proud of yourself for?

coauthoring several medical research papers as an undergrad, which is like my one and only flex and it's a nerdy one

Favorite books?

new hampshire- robert frost, the art of being human- michael wesch, ajax- sophocles (yes, only one of these is technically a book ik)

Something that makes your heart happy when thinking about it?

it might be cheesy to say music, but music and my friends <3

Favorite thing about your culture?

from the midwest US (so there's not that much), but i was raised very much in borderline appalachia and the older i've gotten the more i've come to appreciate that as part of how i was raised, so i would say quilting! i was taught to quilt by the women in my family and i still cherish the connection to them through that

When did you join the HBO War fandom? What was the first show you watched?

band of brothers in 8th grade, my history teacher would play it for us and i'm pretty sure he used it in place of actually teaching but he was a real one and also a drill sergeant so i don't think anyone argued with his methods

Have you read any of Easy Company’s books? If so, which ones were your favorite?

have NOT read any BoB books, but i have read most of the ones that inspired the pacific + a shit ton of pacific memoirs in general

Favorite HBO War character and your favorite moment with them?

lip and luz with the dud shell, bull watching out for the younger replacements, the officers in the eagle's nest, and just in general all of episode 8

Do you make content for any fandoms, if so; what sort of content?

band of brothers, top gun, the pacific (hypothetically), mota now it looks like, way back to my roots would be star trek and also whatever was going on with bandoms in hs that is a dark time

Favorite actor/actress and your favorite film of theirs?

oooh idk it changes, but last year i was on an ethan hawke kick- 'adopt a highway' and 'first reformed' are two he's good in (obligatory dead poets society mention ofc)

Favorite quote/s that you wish to share with others?

"Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night." - sarah williams

Random fact your mutuals/followers don’t know about you?

so bad at fun facts uhhh. uh. i am double-jointed in my hands.

If you’re a writer, do you need a beta reader (say yes so I can be your beta reader 🤭)?

i have NEVER had a beta reader and i am simply too scared to ask how it works because i'm not sure anyone should have to be subjected to my writing process but!! always willing to give a new thing a shot

Three things that make you smile?

my dog when she stretches in the sun, swimming in a creek in the summer, sitting in the car with my best friend while it rains

Any nicknames you like?

izzy! i have liked it well enough to all but legally make it my real name, other than that izzy-maye from people i'm close with, or iz/izzers when people are in a hurry

List some people you love to see around on tumblr!

@andromeddog art makes me go feral, @mutantmanifesto killer art that is living rent-free in my mind, @ewipandora MWAH you already know you make my day better on here, @onehelluvamarine has me kicking my feet giggling when they're in my notifs, @terresdebrume lovely writing <3

What would you do during a zombie apocalypse?

foolproof 3 step plan, ready for it? 1- find a good ditch 2- lay down in the ditch 3- just let it happen

idealistically i think i could go chill in the woods for a semi-significant period of time and be alright

Favorite movie?

logan's run (comfort movie, questionable 70s sci-fi), the hunt for red october (always feeling very big feelings on this), arrival, apocalypse now, fury, dead poets society, alexander (like the 4 hours version because im insufferable like that) the old star trek movies

Do you like horror movies?

i love horror movies WITH people you will not catch me watching them on my own, but 100% love love getting to sit on someone's couch and watch one

Tagging:

(no pressure and apologies for any double tagging) @ewipandora @blood-mocha-latte @deputy-buck @lamialamia @blurredcolour @saturnwisteria @staud + anyone i tagged in my answers and forgot to tag down here, or anyone who just wants to do it :)

[negrowhat]

Ok...I'm just starting to process the behind the scenes of LITA with Boss and Noeul. Besides confirming the full scale horniness those two are able to tap into, apparently on demand and in front of a crowd, I thought it also gives us even more insight into their genuine

We've seen them quite a bit -- at events and interviews and through social media. But those were largely looking back, many of them after the show and their popularity had taken off. These are in the moment -- when it's all still completely new and unsure. And we see how they literally clung to each other during this process. How they are so sweet and cuddly. How Noeul is nuzzling into Boss's (naked) chest or resting his chin on his shoulder or how Boss is always (literally) holding onto or touching Noeul. It's clear how comfortable they are with each other -- and how much comfort they give to each other. And I know it's not unusual for actors to be close, especially when doing a project like this. But I think it reinforces how these two are different and how their genuine closeness is really the foundation of their chemistry. (And it probably speaks to why they sit half naked, on top of each other, in a room full of crew, and focus on each other and how to make it feel real (or, as Boss said, "like art"). Anyway, I just think that it's nice that in the same time we see the hot we also see the sweet.

Hey anon! I do agree that I think BossNoeul are probably great friends and it's great to see how comfortable they are with each other. It's nice to see them have fun while filming and not feeling too much pressure to perform better. It's always a plus when the crew tells them they are doing too much and to pull it back lol. The more comfortable the actors are with each other the better their body language as a couple reads across on screen. Like they do a lot of small physical interactions on screen that seem minimal but makes their relationship feel more real on camera. BossNoeul have insane chemistry.

We can also thank the workshops for this. Typically with Thai BLs the actors are sent to workshops before filming so they can become comfortable with each other and around the people filming them. A lot of times at these workshops they work a ton on their physical chemistry and closeness.

They learn to behave like couples and learn more about their characters mannerisms and how they're supposed to be with each other and the actors also build a bond and hopefully friendship in the process. Sometimes they just spend time laying on each other, or cuddling, or holding hands, and of course kissing.

I've seen sippets of workshops with MileApo, MewGulf, ZaintSee, and BounPrem and that's what a lot of the videos show. The workshops help get rid of the anxiety and stress and fear of working intimately with a partner before actual filming starts so they perform better together because they're already familiar with each other.

[kaijusdream]

Pigeon Scratch Music Update, Late 2023 Edition!

Wasn't intending on not posting a single update on how things are going for over half a year, but that is just how the turn tables I suppose. A little bit of laziness and procrastination, a little bit of art block, stressing myself to near breaking point on multiple occasions, both in music making and overall life stuff. Summertime this year was pretty damn rough, the lowest my mental health had been for a while, and the next couple of months were just trying to bounce back from that. During that time at least I've been able to have a healthier relationship with music. Both in how I feel about my own work, but also in how I enjoy music by others. I've been able to get back into the swing of things. Now it's just procrastination. Let's start with some of the tracks for Northern Minnesota, Part II.

The most recent song I've been working on is with the working title "Fargo Breakdown." About five minutes long, the general gist for this song is to be a slow build with more guitars and drums added onto itself with every repeat. A really big shoegaze-y, post-rock, wall of sound style crescendo that just abruptly ends and sharply transitions into the next song. Current plans is to have this be the first song on the album, with "Pretty Pink Eyes," what I used to affectionately call "The Long Song" going right after it. Can't call it that anymore because now we got at least two songs that are over ten minutes long.

As I've grown more comfortable working on Ableton, and understanding how to more properly produce on it, I've grown accustomed to a more wall of sound approach for this album. It fits perfectly with the genres of music I am making here. Working on this song, as well as The First Snowfall (more about that track and Pretty Pink Eyes later), has actually been helping me determine the kind of style and tone I want, something I'm more comfortable settling on than I was with what I had for Pretty Pink Eyes and The First Snowfall a year ago. One thing I've realized while working on this album is genuinely how well Post-Rock goes with the concept of suffering with OCD, escapism, gender dysphoria, stuff along those lines. And I'm really excited about the idea of mixing my style in more with that genre. Post-Rock has always been such a massive inspiration for me, so I hope I can do it justice with my own little spin on it.

"Muni" is one I can't exactly remember if I did ever post about it here on Tumblr. I did scroll through my entire blog and checked my tags just to make sure, but I didn't see anything. Started working on this track earlier in the year, I believe after my Vancouver trip. About seven minutes long, this is definitely more of a two-parter of a song, in vain to Pretty Pink Eyes and The First Snowfall being multiple parts in a track. Starts off as a slow somber piece with a ton of reverb and cymbals crashing, and the second half being another breakdown. Plans is to have this track on the latter half on the album, almost right before the final couple of tracks. Honestly not much more to say about this, it's just a damn solid track that really came out of nowhere. I think a good thing about Northern Minnesota, Part II is that it's more focused on longer songs than amount of tracks. Focusing on a couple of songs at a time instead of a bunch of one to two minute long tracks really lets me work on the smaller details of these songs to sound exactly how I want them too. I'd also have to assume it's easier for some listeners to listen to a ten track long album than a twenty-five track long album, even if they are about the same length. I just think it's cool I can actually make longer songs.

"Actually Leaving" Is the only song that has been released in full, albeit as an old demo version on EFMC Vol. 2. It also has been shown in full on my Tumblr page as well, over a year ago. Track used to only be two guitar tracks and a drum track, but I decided for the breakdown bit at the end to double the tracks just to get that wall of sound I desire. Still planning to have this be the last song of the album, since it's such a great end piece. Especially now, since Fargo Breakdown and Actually Leaving both have the same vibe, and I like the idea of all the tracks being similar enough to each other to really feel like a concept album. These tracks have different chord progressions and arrangements, different pacings, but very similar ideas for the base. My main concern with Northern Minnesota, Part II is just making sure nothing is filler, and nothing sounds too samey, while also sounding like it all belongs on the same album. All the main songs I've been working on as of late, the ones that have and will be shown here, are very much based on some sort of build up and breakdown, crescendo type of song. Personally though, I think each breakdown I've done in these songs are different from one another. Each showcase a different style of crescendo. At the end of the day, its okay for some of these songs to sound similar to each other because this is a concept album in heart. And it's especially okay since I'm planning on these songs to be related to each other's concepts. Lyrics, arrangements, even song titles. I want to go crazy with the song titles especially, because I'm a fan of complexity in titles. There is gonna be a lot of part II's in parenthesis and reprisals in brackets, vice versa. Just makes me stupid giddy over the idea of it.

The First Snowfall is one of my absolute favorites on this album. The arpeggio melody in the beginning, the first breakdown with the noisy leads similar to Godspeed You! Black Emperor, the jam session in the middle, and the wall of sound, noise, and reverb at the end as it just gets faster and faster in each second. This song was an absolute blast to make, as well as incredibly difficult and painful. Specifically at the end with the increasing tempo. Playing that on guitar and drums and trying my damn best to keep up was really hard, but I think the sloppiness at the end works really well in its favor. Planning this to be the second to last track of the album, right before Actually Leaving. About ten minutes long. I'm a little concerned that going from the wall of sound to another breakdown might screw up the pacing a little bit, but the times I have listened to the transition, It works pretty well. If I do need to put a trick in between, I'm sure I can figure something out, but we'll see later on when I got more songs to work on.

I remember talking about "Pretty Pink Eyes" on my Tumblr literally a year ago, at the time I'm writing this. That image of Ableton didn't have this many tracks, that's for certain. For the past year I've been struggling with how this song sounded in comparison to everything else. That struggle only got worse as time went on, when I started songs like The First Snowfall, Muni, and especially Fargo Breakdown. This was the first song I started working on alongside Actually Leaving, back in late June of 2022. That was during the time I was still learning how to use Ableton, and how to use it exclusively, no Audacity. Because of that, it just sounded completely different no matter what I tried, and my confidence in music making severely plummeted. There came a point where this song no longer sounded like a song to me, and it sounded worse each time I tried.

At the end of last month I finally realized what my big problem was. It was how I was trying to fix it. Working on old varnish doesn't make things better. They don't mix well. I was working on set ups for tracks that I did a year ago, give or take. It didn't matter if I added another guitar track, or if I changed the distortion or the amount of reverb, or even if I included audio recordings of the song through my speakers into the mix, it wasn't gonna sound like how I wanted it to. I had to start from scratch. I kinda knew this for a while, but I was so afraid to do so due to how hard of a task I thought that would be, and I was afraid I wasn't gonna get exactly what I wanted. There were parts I thought that fit the album well already, and there was the thought it'd be pointless to just restart in that department. But again, there came a point where I just said screw it, and just do it. Wouldn't hurt to try. So I created a copy of the project, got rid of all the audio effects, and reset all the volumes and channels, and started from scratch. And holy hell, the entire song sounds so much better, and more accurate to what I wanted for the album. The amount of relief I felt after finishing the base of the mixing in just a week was literally indescribable, and it felt really good to have been able to do it without that much hassle. Three part song, with three breakdown parts. About eleven minutes long. It's finally the wall of sound I've always wanted it to be. And that makes me incredibly happy. Plans for it to go right after Fargo Breakdown. Whenever this album release, remind me to never work on the same song for over a year and a half ever again. That shit was fucking brutal.

Here is the current tracklist. For clarification, this is nowhere near a finished tracklist, both in order and amount. I want to fill in the middle part of this album more. I just tend to focus on the beginning and end the most. I got plans for a song that will also be ten minutes long that would go right before The First Snowfall. A more slower piece, similar to Snow Globes right before Basketball Shoes by Black Country, New Road. All of these songs shown here, except Actually Leaving, will include lyrics or at least vocals of some kind. I will probably release an instrumental version of this album in the future, whenever the album comes out. I really thought I was gonna release this album this year. That's kinda funny. Soon, I'll probably release some snippets of these tracks onto here, just for fun. Don't expect anything much, probably just thirty second pieces of my favorite parts of these tracks. I might as well tease a little bit more than I have been, eh? Thanks for reading this painfully long post. I appreciate it.

[tortillasconsal]

I haven't made one of these so I thought why not while I'm getting more followers

About Myself...

My name is SindiNero, but I also go by Tortillasconsal. You people can call me Sindi or Tortilla.

I'm a 18 y/o Mexican, I am a nonbinary aromantic lesbian and I use they/them pronouns only!!

English isn't my first language despite being the main language of this account, so I apologize for any mistakes I make.

Currently I am very invested in creepypasta since I'm coming back to the fandom after like 5-6 years I think(? I'm writing my own AU but I doubt it'll be something big, right now I'm just making headcanons and some world building maybe. I also focus a lot on the Slenderbros bc they are very gender.

I do have a couple of crp OCs (and more outside the fandom), but I rather share them later on when I'm more comfortable with my audience.

My ask-box is always open if anyone wants to chat or ask for stuff, but if you want to DM me please ask there first. I get really confused with random messages from people I don't know.

Also, I talk a lot. So prepare to have a bunch of ridiculously long posts filled with excessive context and nonsense descriptions in random order because I can't talk normally.

I do both writing and art requests. You are free to ask for anything, but here is some stuff to follow:

You can ask for anything as long as it's appropriate and creepypasta related, asking for my original stuff outside of the crp fandom is ok too.

The style I do with art requests may vary depending on my time, the request and how much I'm familiarized with the character, but I usually try to do a simple doodle for time's sake.

I will do gory art, but don't expect much. I'm just not that experienced in that.

If you give me a list of characters to draw/write about I'll only pick one or two. Except if you're asking for the characters doing stuff together obviously.

The only OCs I'll draw and write for will be my friends'. If you come here asking for headcanons or art of your OC and idk you, I'll ignore you.

I take a shit ton of time on doing the requests, so please be patient with me, I'm lazy 😩

There will be a bunch of characters that I won't write about at first as I'm still learning about them, but eventually I'll do more.

Shitposting is always welcome.

Themes I don't write or do art about:

Ships or romance.

Smutt or Fluff.

Anything NSFW or suggestive.

I don't do fanfic or oneshots. I just don't have the mental capacity to focus on a story 💀 please just ask about headcanons or something else instead.

Characters I won't write or do art for:

Lazary and Lulu, or any other Chibi-Works character.

Julius the Dressmaker and Killian Lynch, or any other work made by SanityisforLosers.

Dr. Smiley.

Timelapse.

Pokepasta, gamingpasta (with the exception of B.E.N.) and MLP creepypastas.

Offenderman. But he's a special case. He's canon in my AU as the original version, I won't take prompts or requests for him and I won't write/draw much about him, the most I'll do is answer questions and do lore-bits when necessary. If enough people ask me to write my headcanons on a certain topic where I don't see any harm, I'll do it.

I also love Art Trades. Check out mi bio to see if they're open!

Other interests/likes of mine:

D&D

Fashion

Character Design

Ramblings

Smoking herbs like lavender or chamomile (weed too, but that is a secret)

Satanism

Glass Animals, Will Wood, Grandson, Cosmo Sheldrake, IDK HOW, Saint Motel, Tally Hall, Scene Queen, Miranda!, Cuarteto de Nos, Vete a la Versh, Molotov, Cartel de Santa.

My DNI List:

The basic (homophobes, transphobes, ableists, racists, etc...)

Anti-feminists, masculinists and people who don't support feminism.

People who support SnuffBomb, La Mishi Mish, Sanityisforlosers, GravezGrind and/or xXAmLuvsXx

Comshitters/Proshitters/Anti-Antis and their supporters.

People who think fiction doesn't affect reality and say "they're just pixels" like stfu.

People who say 'latinx' (you can refer to me as Latino or Latine, but please don't use that word)

My socials!!!

Instagram📷 tortillasconsal0

Twitter🐦 SindiNero69

Pinterest🖼️ SindiNero69 (in case you're interested in seeing my OCs' or Creepypasta MoodBoards)

Swag people you should follow

@the-catcake @schrodingers-seraph @realmysticalsorcery @ivydarkrose @dadumtss @ask-jeff-creepypasta @laliloon