#THIS IS THE BEST JAMES IVE EVER DRAWN!!!!

[fallingstarsburn]

jegulus x heartstopper part 5 !

this is james’s like ‘oh’ moment

i decided to add colour to this one cause i loved it so much!!

im obsessed with drawing these which is why i’ve done so many in such a short amount of time! if anyone has any scenes or ideas they’d like me to draw in this style feel free to comment/message/ask me :)

[triskelion-soda]

some pokemon character drawings i did for practise! :)

[attherowndtable]

Bluebird Reading List

Well, I've shuffled off from twitter and what better first post than to bring the reading list with me?

But who is Bluebird?

Harper Row AKA Bluebird is a member of the Batfamily. She grew up in The Narrows, Gotham City's poorest neighbourhood, with a deadbeat criminal absentee father, a hardworking loving mother and the cutest baby brother she could ever hope for. After Batman saved the lives of her and her brother, Cullen, from a homophobic hate crime, she endeavoured to become Batman's partner, offering her gift of mechanical engineering to his services by improving his CCTV scramblers. After some pushback from the Dark Knight, he reluctantly agreed to take her on as a partner, though her identity as Bluebird would be formed on her own much later, when an attack from the Mad Hatter rendered Cullen comatose and she took matters into her own hands to save him.

Under the break is a fully detailed reading list of all appearances that will spoil some plot elements, but this is the short version. The best thing about Harper is also the worst thing: she's got nothing. Her major appearances amount to a grand total of four books:

Batman Eternal - the first book she has something of a starring role in. It sets into canon her personality and skill set, which started off as a mechanical engineer and then James Tynion IV, main writer on Eternal, switched it to hacking very abruptly. Presumably this was because she was being partnered up with Tim Drake and they had to show she wasn't useless. I have my issues with this but I'll get mad later.

Batman & Robin Eternal - continuing on, Harper returns in her supporting role, an opportunity that is exploited to explore her backstory and solidify the first moment she truly got to be a hero.

Punchline - the first issue of Punchline was a standalone, the rest of the book got turned into a backup story in The Joker (which was actually a good book, you should read it). By far her worst appearance. Everything Tynion did in the Eternal books with Harper, he just shredded all of it. She's been written as utterly incompetent just to make Punchline look better and the only times she gets to do something is a bit of DIY and the very end of the book. Just insulting characterisation.

Punchline: The Gotham Game - and somehow that shit got a sequel too. Solicits just came out and she will indeed be making her reappearance in Gotham Game #3.

And now, the full reading list.

First is the People In The Dark backup* from Batman (2011) #25. This is a story from Harper's childhood, and displays how she first got into engineering, along with some relationship work between her and Cullen.

*If you've found this reading list because you're new to comics and are looking for characters to get into, a backup, or b-story, is an unrelated, or only tangentially related, short story that you can find after the main plot of the comic.

Next is Batman (2011) #12, titled Ghost In The Machine. Fun fact (but also a sad fact), this issue was drawn by Becky Cloonan, the first woman to ever do art for a Batman story. This issue marks the first time Harper saves Batman's life and her first meeting with the Dark Knight!

Batman (2011) #7 - The Talons Strike! - is Harper's very first appearance! Batman escapes the Court Of Owls' labyrinth and dies from exhaustion and physical and mental torture. Harper drags his body out of the river and saves his life a second time by restarting his heart with a car battery and jumper cables.

Resolve is the story told in Batman (2011) #18. Harper begins training herself (I like to headcanon she used fighting game moves), donning her black stealth suit and homemade gear and Batman breaks her nose for it, partly still lashing out from the mental torture the Court Of Owls put him through, partly because he doesn't want to see any more good kids enter this life. Not one to be set back by a mere Batbop however, she yells at him and gives him some much needed tough love to put him right.

Shadows And Ghosts (Detective Comics (2011) #21) is Harper's next appearance, chronologically. Batman has since confiscated her gear and she fills us in on what she's been up to since.

Not much happens.

Batman Eternal! Starting from #5 in which she saves Vicki Vale's life and meets Red Robin for the first time, Harper appears consistently throughout, beginning first in her starter gear that Batman returned to her after the events in Detective Comics. From #15 onwards, she switches to a prototype suit with a mask that I believe to be an homage to Cole Cash AKA Grifter, one of the main characters of the Wildstorm Universe, which was later acquired by DC, and another favourite of mine. Harper's prototype mask is a carbon copy of Cole's but coloured light blue in place of the con man's red. She dons the first real Bluebird costume in #41. Most are minor appearances amounting to just a page or two but if you want specific issues, she can be found in issues 5, 12, 13, 15, 16, 17, 19, 25, 36, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 48, 49, 50, 51 and 52.

In issues 48-50, she can be seen battling Mr. Freeze in a handful of panels!

Batman Eternal tells Harper's story as she grows into a hero and becomes Bluebird. Like most of her decisions, she decided to do this because she loves Cullen, her baby brother, and wanted to help him, though wanting to help Batman too was a strong part of it.

I should also mention that Batman (2011) #28 is a teaser for Batman Eternal called Gotham Eternal. It tells the same event as Batman Eternal #43, the script and art are just changed in Batman Eternal for reasons beyond my comprehension.

In this, Bluebird and Batman break into The Egyptian club.

Though published after Batman & Robin Eternal had begun, Bluebird's cameos in Batgirl (2011) #47 and #50 is set before the events of that story. Bluebird is recommended to Batgirl by Stephanie as a communications and electronics whiz, then she helps Batgirl when Barbara's enemies decide to group up on her. Bluebird is tasked with the apprehension of Killer Moth.

Much like Batman Eternal, Batman & Robin Eternal has Bluebird show up consistently in the run, this time starting right from #1. Again, a lot of 1-3 page appearances but the specific Harper issues are 1-5, 7-14, 17-20, 22 and 24-26. Issues 7 and 8 feature a scene with Cassandra Cain (now Batgirl, but under the ridiculous Orphan moniker at the time) that may or may not be able to be read as a date between the two.

Batman & Robin Eternal expands on the set up in Batman Eternal, with Bluebird's arc focusing on who she is as a person and adding some extra depth to her personality. In this run, we get to see more of her childhood and even meet her mother, Miranda!

We revisit Harper in Detective Comics (2016) #943-946 and #950. She has since hung up the jacket and shock rifle, and is volunteering in Leslie Thompkins' clinic, believing she can do more good as Harper Row than Bluebird. In #945, we get canon confirmation of her bisexuality!

Four years and a million Batman books later, Harper is forced to pick up her rifle again as Gotham's latest two-bit Joker knock-off comes begging for attention in Punchline #1. With Cullen spiralling further and further into Alexis' toxic ideology, she's got to save her brother once more.

Demoted from a solo to a continuous B-story in The Joker (2021) after just one issue (lol lmao etc), Harper starts to panic as she realises how fast Punchline sympathisers are dragging Cullen onto their bandwagon. Now she has to investigate Punchline as Bluebird and assist Leslie Thompkins to help keep her behind bars in court.

Solicits just came out and Bluebird will reappear this December in Punchline: The Gotham Game #3 and she will be teaming up with NIghtwing.

Now, this is not the end of Harper's tale, chronologically speaking. In Batman (2011) #35, Bluebird makes a cameo in a hypothetical dystopian future with a cool new high tech suit. For all intents and purposes, until we get something in the primary canon, this alternate future is the last chapter of Bluebird's story.

Harper also appears in the WWII AUs Bombshells and Bombshells United, which sit outside the chronology... I got too tired to look for specific issues cause there's like three of em and Bombshells ran for 100 but she is a mechanic who forms a team of Batgirls with Nell Little and Kathy Duquesne after Batwoman leaves Gotham!

I sincerely hope you enjoy reading Batman Eternal and Batman & Robin Eternal, because this little blue bisexual means a heck of a lot to me, and I'd love to share her with all of you, but please, do not start shipping her with Punchline. Enemies to lovers is a trope that requires a certain level of nuance, and they do not have it.

[jessicabryants-blog]

evaluation

what informed and motivated my design decisions- throughout this term I have drawn inspiration from many different things such as different magazine spreads such as times, vouge, Aesthetica, apollo, CURA and x-tra, these magazines are visually beautiful and show really good hierarchy.

what changes and developments has my project gone through- through my judge a book by its cover project I began with multiple different illustrations which then gave me a broad range of pointers to go from including brush sizes, textures which then led me onto my final book cover. Place of words also was challenging as this was my first editorial piece iv ever done, I struggled with type a lot and grids I felt it challenging to keep my layout looking like a magazine rather than a book and finally our brief there’s an app for that was the most challenging brief as it was working with others and within a short time frame, some of the challenges include people not participating equally and fairly, I feel in some areas certain people tried to overstress the rest of us but didn’t pull their weight with the work and expected people to then do it for them, or not communicate what work they had done.

did i manage my time well through the unit- through this unit I struggled with my time management a lot, this was due to personal reasons and I did struggle to balance out my personal life and my workload. However I did catch up, I feel if I had managed a lot better I defiantly would have a lot more work but I am happy with the amount I produced.

how did i respond to feedback- all the feedback in which I was given this term I then applied it to my work within my best ability, all the feedback which I was given this term I was happy with and felt it did genuinely  bring my work up to that next level

are there any areas of my design process that needs more practice- this term really helped me as it was my first time ever properly doing editorial and with my process book as well and I still feel like a weakness of mine is typeface. 1

what have i learnt from this unit of study- from this unit I feel as though my editorial skills have improved but not only that my illustration work has improved to line up with the type, for my place of words magazine I felt that my illustrations went strongly with my article being on people appropriating mental illness on social media but more specifically tik Tok.

on reflection, are there any improvements that I would make to my final outcome- for my book cover If I was given more time I would have liked to change the type face on the main cover, I feel like it doesn’t sit right on the readers eyes. Place of words, withing this brief I would like to have modified pull quotes into my illustrations for example on the phone screens, I feel that this would take my magazine that extra step. Process book, for my process book I love the lay out I would have just liked to add more information. There’s an app for that, for this project I would have liked to have allowed all of us to have added a bit more of our uniqueness into it

www.tumblr.com/jessicabryants-blog

Reference list

Anon, (n.d.). 26 Percent of Social Media Users Have Created a Fake Profile Somewhere. [online] Available at: https://www.digitalinformationworld.com/2019/11/26-percent-of-social-media-users-have-created-a-fake-profile-somewhere.html.

Anon, (2021). Top 12 of the Very Best Contemporary Art Magazines – CAI. [online] Available at: https://www.contemporaryartissue.com/top-101-of-the-very-best-contemporary-art-magazines/ [Accessed 1 Jun. 2023].

Dahl, R. and Blake, Q. (2007). James and the Giant Peach. [online] Amazon. Puffin. Available at: https://www.amazon.co.uk/James-Giant-Peach-Roald-Dahl-ebook/dp/B002RI9INI [Accessed 1 Jun. 2023].

Gilpin, C.C. (2017). Are You the Same Person on Social Media as You Are in Real Life? (Published 2017). The New York Times. [online] 9 May. Available at: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/05/09/learning/are-you-the-same-person-on-social-media-as-you-are-in-real-life.html.

Goodreads. (n.d.). James and the Giant Peach. [online] Available at: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6689.James_and_the_Giant_Peach [Accessed 1 Jun. 2023].

i-d.vice.com. (n.d.). People with OCD are finding community and support on TikTok. [online] Available at: https://i-d.vice.com/en/article/epd334/ocd-community-support-on-tiktok- [Accessed 1 Jun. 2023].

Jr, T.H. (2021). How Instagram influencers can fake their way to online fame. [online] CNBC. Available at: https://www.cnbc.com/2021/02/02/hbo-fake-famous-how-instagram-influencers-.html.

Li, P. (2020). Parent-Child Relationship: How To Strengthen It. [online] Parenting For Brain. Available at: https://www.parentingforbrain.com/close-parent-child-relationship/.

Morin, A. (2019). The 7 Best Mental Health Apps of 2019. [online] Verywell Mind. Available at: https://www.verywellmind.com/best-mental-health-apps-4692902.

NHS England (n.d.). NHS England» Wellbeing apps. [online] www.england.nhs.uk. Available at: https://www.england.nhs.uk/supporting-our-nhs-people/support-now/wellbeing-apps/.

Nikolić, M. (2023). Mind-Mindedness Parenting Explained | Child & Family Blog. [online] Child and Family Blog. Available at: https://childandfamilyblog.com/mind-mindedness-parenting/.

Parenting NI (2018). Parent-Child Relationship - Why it’s Important - Parenting NI. [online] Parenting NI. Available at: https://www.parentingni.org/blog/parent-child-relationship-why-its-important/.

Penguin.co.uk. (2019). Penguin Books UK | Official Website. [online] Available at: https://www.penguin.co.uk/.

Suciu, P. (n.d.). Social Media Is Full Of Fakes – As In Fake Followers New Study Finds. [online] Forbes. Available at: https://www.forbes.com/sites/petersuciu/2021/11/17/social-media-is-full-of-fakes--as-in-fake-followers-new-study-finds/.

[trashquisitor-shirozora]

The "I Can 'Pin' Posts on Tumblr Now? Since When?" Intro/Masterpost

Greetings and welcome to the "Who The Fuck Am I?" post written by yours truly, whoever the fuck I am. Now that I'm back on my Fandom bullshit again in at least 2 blogs, I thought I'd re-introduce myself.

I am 2nd gen Korean-American on the Best West Coast. I ID as she/they/shiro, and ace/demi. I'm in the millennial bracket (aka, I am a Legal Adult) so be mindful when interacting with me. I do what I can to be antiracist and am always learning to be better.

I am some iteration of "shirozora" on: LiveJournal, Dreamwidth, AO3, Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, Discord. My first Fandom 2.0 was political/pundit RPF and my first fandom fallout was Racefail '09, so you could say I've Seen Some Shit. Been 5+ years since I last engaged in actual Fandom, yet here the fuck I am.

Fandoms I have written/drawn for (FFN years do not count, I purged that account): political/pundit RPF, Supernatural, Tron: Legacy, MCU, Star Trek (AOS), Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Final Fantasy XIV, Star Wars/The Mandalorian

A Short List Of Things I Wrote in No Particular Order:

Lost Symphony (T): SPN; Dean/Cassie, Sam/Jessica, pre-Dean/Castiel; for the Racebending Revenge challenge - "Mary Ahn Winchester died on the ceiling of the nursery on November 2, 1983."

We Are Pilots (T+): Tron: Legacy; Sam/Tron; for the Tron Kink Meme - "Six months and Sam still can't shake off his father's ghost, so Quorra suggests returning to the Grid to find the answers he needs to move on."

Wishing Well (T): Captain America: The First Avenger; Steve/Howard, Steve/Peggy, unfulfilled Howard/Peggy/Steve; for the Cap Kink Meme - "And you just wanna feel like a coin that's been tossed / In a wishing well, a wishing well."

A Thousand Eyes Staring Back (T+): Mass Effect 2; Kaiden/m!Shep - "His problems start at Horizon, aka that time Kaidan Alenko was having a really bad day and his former CO was supposed to be dead."

Waking Ghosts (T+): Dragon Age; Dorian Pavus/Male Trevelyan Inquisitor; the Mummy (1999) AU nobody asked for - "Dorian Pavus, formerly of Qarinus, is an archivist at the Magisterium research outpost in Hightown."

Seasons Change (T): Black Panther/MCU; M'Baku/T'Challa - "A fisherman finds a dying king in his nets and Hanuman offers M'Baku an opportunity to repay T'Challa for sparing his life at Warrior Falls."

born in a thunderstorm (T+): Star Trek: AOS, Captain Marvel, Thor: Ragnarok, Guardians of the Galaxy; Kirk/McCoy; the worst AU I ever wrote - "Kevin Riley insists that James Kirk didn't die on Tarsus IV. Nobody believes him."

Dangerous Dreams series (T) - The Storm; The Suns; Between Planets: Star Wars/The Mandalorian; Din/Luke; the reason why I'm writing this post - "To want something for yourself, that is a dangerous dream."

I cross-post and occasionally write about writing at @shirozora-writes. But I bet a bunch of y'all stumbled into my little sandbox through @shirozora-draws, so let's talk about that!

I suffered from artist's block for almost 4 years. That ended when I became utterly fixated on "So Grogu has two dads now - oh no." I fucking ragequit Star Wars after the fucking world lied to me about The Last Jedi* and now I'm doing the most insane and involved fanworks because of Star Wars. The fuck???

To end this unapologetically long-ass Intro Post, here are my 3 favorite recent doodles:

The original post is here. First time animating with Clip Studio Paint and I had a two-day meltdown over it.

The original post is here. Fun fact: the file name is "homoerotic chin tilt yolo". Also, 6.4k notes? You guys are wild.

The original post is here. The final illustration from The Suns.

*I hate The Last Jedi the most not just because it's racist sexist garbage that trashed everyone except Kylo Ren whoever the fuck he thinks he is, and jumpstarted some of the most toxic fandom behavior I had the displeasure of witnessing, but also because I read so much praise for it before walking into the theater, paying for a ticket with my own money, and realizing 5 minutes into the film that I was gonna have the worst time of my life. I can't and probably will never watch Knives Out because I still haven't forgiven the director for the psychological damage. This is 100% a TLJ Hate Zone.

[steelycunt]

what do you think are the things that r loves about s? and that drew him to him in the first place, like when they were really young? other than the little gay earring, ofc. like. the things that make him go “for all of his faults, I still want to spend the rest of my life w him” yk?

hii ah this is a nice ask!! i am so mean to him so often and its only ever half sincere yknow. he's not all bad. he will sleep outside but he is still allowed to live on the property xx so he deserves this little speech xx

esp when they're young i honestly think. i do think there is an element of remus being drawn in by all the things everybody else is: his charm, his looks, his brilliance, his humour. the whole grand Sirius Black Experience. there is obviously more to it, and it develops into more than a mere schoolboy crush, but in no way do i believe he's 'above' all that either. hence the power of the gay little earring, you see. he's not immune.

i also think there is something about sirius' fierce loyalty that affects remus a lot (i'm also imagining their relationship within the circumstance of sirius always having been in love with remus, which is just what i personally tend to believe). especially considering remus has grown up with...genuinely not a single friend, ever, as well as a crippling fear that his friends will abandon him over his condition. their backgrounds are v different but i imagine the difficulties they've both had in their childhoods + general life would bring them closer within the group of four--a really important part of why i think they work is that remus understands sirius to an extent which i would argue not even james does...maybe thats a point of contention, but i think its true.

there are two very obvious sides to sirius, the more important of which here is the unexpected kindness and devotion reserved for those he loves (remus gets to see a private, more gentle sirius). at the same time, regardless of emotion there's always an intensity abt sirius that remus is v v attracted to. ive said this before but: remus loves being loved by sirius, and he loves loving sirius. that is a routine that only embeds itself more over time, becomes second nature as they get older, so. i still think when theyre adults he loves sirius for the same reasons he was his friend as an eleven, twelve year old, but there is also something much more substantial that builds as a result of so much time passing between them. i don't really know how to put it: they understand each other. they are best friends. they have been making each other laugh since they were eleven. remus could never give up on him he could never tire of him...everything comes back to sirius. they are just each other's person it's just how it is :-/

[meruz]

once again i am answering asks in a big compilation post. included is... gotham, patrick stump, tips about drawing backgrounds, tips about drawing in general, links to my faq, and infinity train

like.... the tv series? No... I’ve drawn dc comics fanart before, though. But it’s been years since I’ve been really into it. I like jumped ship like 10 years ago when the New 52 happened LOL.

AFJHDSLKGH I’m sorry I (probably) won’t do it again??

Actually full disclosure I have a truly cringe amount of p stump drawings/photo studies in my sketchbook right now LOL. He’s just fun to draw... hats, glasses, guitar, a good shape... but I don’t think I’ll rly post those until I can hide them in another big sketchbook pdf.. probably Jan 2022. Stay tuned........ (ominous) 

(ominous preview)

These are all sort of related to backgrounds/painting so I grouped them together even though they’re pretty much entirely separate questions.... ANYWAYS

a) How is it working as a BG artist? Is it hard? What show are you drawing for?

I think you’re the first person to ever ask me about my job! Being a background artist is great. It’s definitely labor intensive but I think that could describe pretty much any art job (If something were rote or easy to automate, you wouldn’t hire an artist to do it) and I hesitate to say whether its harder or easier than any other role in the animation pipeline. Plus, so much of what truly makes a job difficult varies from one production to the next, schedule, working environment, co-workers etc. But I will say that I think while BGs are generally a lot of work on the upfront, I think they’re subject to less scrutiny/revisions than something like character/props/effects design and you don’t have to pitch them to a room like boards. So I guess it’s good if you don’t like to talk to people? LOL

A lot of my previous projects + the show I’ve worked on the longest aren’t public yet so I can’t talk about em (but I assure you if/when the news does break I won’t shut up about it). But I’m currently working on Archer Season 12 LOL. I’m like 90% sure I’m allowed to say that.

b) ~~~THANK YOU!! ~~~

c) What exactly do you like to draw most [in a background]?

@kaitomiury​ Lots of stuff! I really like to draw clutter! Because it’s a great opportunity for environmental storytelling and also you can be kind of messy with it because the sheer mass will supersede any details LOL. 

I like to draw clouds... I like to draw grass but not trees lol,,, I like to draw anything that sells perspective really easily like tiled floors and ceilings, shelves, lamp posts on a street etc.

d) Do you have any tips on how to paint (observational)?

god there’s so much to say. painting is really a whole ass discipline like someone can paint their whole life and still discover new things about it. I guess if you’re really just starting out my best advice is that habit is more important than product. especially with traditional plein air painting, I find that the procedure of going outside and setting up your paints is almost harder than the actual painting. There’s a lot of artists who say “I want to do plein air sometime!!” and then never actually get around to doing it. A lot of people just end up working from google streetview or photos on their computer.

But going outside to paint is a really good challenge because it forces you to make and commit to lighting and composition decisions really quickly. And to work through your mistakes instead of against them via undo button.

My last tip is to check out James Gurney’s youtube channel because hes probably the best and most consistent resource on observational painting out there rn. There’s lots other artists doing the same thing (off the top of my head I know a lot of the Warrior Painters group has people regularly posting plein air stuff and lightbox expo had a Jesse Schmidt lecture abt it last year) but Gurney’s probably the most prolific poster and one of the best at explaining the more technical stuff - his books are great too.

e) Do you have tips for drawing cleanly on heavypaint?

@marigoldfool​ UMM LOL I LIKE ONLY USE THE FILL TOOL so maybe use the fill tool? Fill and rectangle are good for edge control as opposed to the rest of the heavy paint tools which can get sort of muddles. And also I use a stylus so maybe if you’re using your finger, find a stylus that works with your device instead. That’s all I’ve got, frankly I don’t think my drawings are particularly clean lol.

f) Tips on improving backgrounds/scenes making them more dynamic practicing etc?

Ive given some tips about backgrounds/scenes before so I’m not gonna re-tread those but here’s another thing that might be helpful...

I think a good way to approach backgrounds is to think of the specific story or even mood you want to convey with the background first. Thinking “I just need to put something behind this character” is going to lead you to drawing like... a green screen tourist photo backdrop. But if you think “I need this bg to make the characters feel small” or “I need this bg to make the world feel colorful” then it gives you requirements and cues to work off of.

If I know a character needs to feel overwhelmed and small, then I know I need to create environment elements that will cage them in and corner them. If a character needs to feel triumphant/on top of the world then I know I need to let the environment open up around them. etc. If I know my focal point/ where I want to draw attention, I can build the background around that.

Also, backgrounds like figure compositions will have focal points of their own and you can draw attention to it/ the relationship the characters have with the bg element via scale or directionality or color, any number of cues. I think of it almost as a second/third character in a scene.

Not every composition is gonna have something so obvious like this but it helps me to think about these because then the characters feel connected and integrated with the environment.

Some more general art questions

a) Do you have any process/tips to start drawing character/bodies/heads?

I tried to kind of draw something to answer this but honestly this is difficult for me to answer because I don’t think I’m that great at drawing characters LOL. Ok, I think I have two tips.

1) flip your canvas often. A lot about what makes human bodies look correct and believable is symmetry and balance. Even if someone has asymmetrical features, the body will often pull and push in a way to counterbalance it. we often have inherent biases to one side or another like dominant hands dominant eyes etc. you know how right-handed artists will often favor drawing characters facing 45 degrees facing (the artist’s) left? that’s part of it. so viewing your drawing flipped even just to evaluate it helps compensate for that bias and makes you more aware of balance.

2) draw the whole figure often. I feel like a lot of beginner artists (myself included for a long time) defer to just drawing headshots or busts because it’s easier, you dont have to think about posing limbs etc. But drawing a full body allows you to better gauge proportion, perspective, body language, everything that makes a character look believable and grounded.

Like if you (me) have that issue where you draw the head too big and then have to resize it to fit the proportions of the rest of the body, it’s probably because you (I) drew the head first and are treating the body as an afterthought/attachment. Sketching out the whole figure first or even just quick drawing guides for it will help you think of it more holistically. I learned this figure drawing in charcoal at art school LOL.

oh. third mini tip - try to draw people from life often! its the best study. if you can get into a figure drawing/nude drawing class EVEN BETTER and if you have a local college/art space/museum that hosts those for free TREASURE IT AND TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT, that’s a huge boon that a lot of artists (me again) wish they had. though if youre not so lucky and youre sitting in a park trying to creeper draw people and they keep moving.. don’t let that stop you! that’s good practice because it’s forcing you to work fast to get the important stuff down LOL. its a challenge!

b) I’ve been pretty out of energy and have had no inspiration to draw but I have the desire to. Any advice?

Dude, take a walk or something.... Or a nap? Low energy is going to effect everything else so you gotta hit that problem at its source.

If you’re looking for inspiration though, I’d recommend stuff like watching a movie, reading a book, playing video games etc. Fill up your idea bank with content and then give yourself time/space to gestate it into new concepts. Sometimes looking at other art works but sometimes it can work against you because it’s too close. 

Also something that helps me is remembering that art doesn’t always have to be groundbreaking... like it’s okay to make something shitty and stupid that you don’t post online and only show to your friend. That’s all part of the process imo. If you want to hit a home run you gotta warm up first, right? Sports.

I should probably compile everytime i give tips on stuff like this but that’s getting dangerously close to being a social media artist who makes stupid boiled down art tutorials for clout which is the last thing i want to be... the thing I want to stress is that art is a whole visual language and there are widely agreed upon rules and customs but they exist in large part to be broken. Like there's an infinite number of ways to reach an infinite number of solutions and that’s actually what makes it really cool and personal for both the artist and the viewer. So when you make work you like or you find someone else’s work you like, take a step back and ask yourself what about it speaks for you, what about it works for you, what makes it effective, how to recreate that effect and how to break that effect completely, etc. And have a good time with it or else what’s the point.

for the first 2, I direct you to my FAQ

For the last one, I don’t actually believe I’ve ever addressed artwork as insp for stories/rp but I’ll say here and now yeah go ahead! As long as you’re not making profit or taking credit for my work then I’m normally ok with it. Especially anything thats private and purely recreational, that’s generally 100% green light go. I only ask that if you post it anywhere public that you please credit me.

(and I reserve the right to ask you to take it down if I see it and don’t approve of it’s use but I think that case is pretty rare.)

a) @lemuelzero101 Thank you!!! I haven’t played Life is Strange but actually  that series’ vis dev artist Edouard Caplain is one of my bigger art inspirations lately so that’s a really high compliment lol. And yeah I hope we get 5-8 too...!

b) Thank you for sticking around! I’ve been thinking about Digimon and Infinity Train in tandem lately, actually. They’re a little similar? Enter a dangerous alternate world and have wacky adventures with monsters/inanimate objects that have weird powers... there’s like weird engineers and mechanisms behind the scenes... also frontier literally starts with them getting on a train. Anyways if anyone else followed me for digimon... maybe you’d like Infinity Train? LOL

c) @king-wens-king I’M GLAD MY ART JUST HAS PINOY VIBES LOL I hope you are having a good day too :^)

a, b, c, d) yessss my Watch Infinity Train agenda is working....

e) aw thank you!! i think you should watch infinity train :)

[fictionescapism]

Fanfic Rec #88 James T. Kirk/Spock (Star Trek) part 7

To Be Proven Wrong by mycenaeantholostomb Spock needs more than a little convincing to join the Enterprise after the Narada incident. He's highly uncertain about his relationship with the Captain, who is supposed to be his dearest friend but is more akin to an awkward rival. However, as time goes on and he gets to know Kirk better and better, he starts to change his mind. He might be falling in love. Maybe.

Paper Tigers by ThereBeWhakesHere Thirty years ago, the war between Earth and Vulcan ended with a shaky armistice. Now, Earth's monarchs hope their volatile neighbors might formalize peace and ally with them against a growing Klingon threat. But Vulcans are fiercely independent, and are currently fighting their own war against a rebel insurgence. An alliance remains unlikely. In spite of this, the two planets' sons, Prince James Kirk of Earth and Dorli Kahr-lan Spock of Vulcan, find themselves passionately drawn toward each other the moment they meet, and their own private alliance could change everything.

A Series of Realizations by BlueBioluminescence A Story about the people in Jim and Spock's lives finding out that they are married and have been for a while now. Featuring: Academy AU Secret Relationship Vulcans get married in 2.5 seconds after finding a compatible mind Spock following the proud family tradition of being a slut

Doubt The Stars by notfreyja / Straight_Outta_Hobbiton James Tiberius Kirk never saw Riverside Iowa. He saw lots of things— Vulcan, Risa, Tarsus IV— but his Mother never left him on Earth. The best decision Winona Kirk ever made was taking her children with her into space.

with ease, and you beside by annasotropy "So," Jim begins, two hours and four whiskey sours into their annual years-end party, "when are we going to go on a real date?" Spock pauses, watching the man carefully over the rim of his mug. Jim raises his eyebrows in question and leans casually into the doorframe. Spock takes a sip of tea, resting the mug gently between his hands. "I do not believe I understand your meaning, Jim." Jim and Spock start slowly dating halfway through the five-year mission. Spock doesn’t quite figure it out until year 4.

[oneboxofmatches]

This is a request I did for the amazing @strawberry-caffeine​ -- she’s been so kind to me and it was an absolute joy to do this request!

A few things: With the length of the request, while I still included friendship matchups, I decided not to write out descriptions/explanations along with them. To (hopefully) make up for that, I put the #1 friendship choice in BOLD CAPITAL LETTERS with two other bonus characters I think you’d be good friends with in regular bold type (except for the Harry Potter: Marauders era because there aren’t many choices haha). I hope this is okay!!

Here we go!

--Supernatural--

I romantically pair you with…

JACK KLINE

You’re good at hyping your friends up? Please give this boy all the hype in the world -- he needs it.

Seriously though, one (out of many) of the reasons Jack loves you so, so much is how you’re able to talk him out of a slump. His constant doubts and insecurities regarding his identity plague him often, and the fact that you’re willing to both listen to him pour his heart out and still find a way to reassure him means the world.

Jack’s also still getting the hang of the whole “talking” thing, so you helping him along when a lull in the conversation arrives makes him feel supported.

Not only does your helpful nature benefit Jack, but it’s also one of his favorite traits of yours! He believes in a kind, just world and consistently seeing that from you never fails to bring a bright smile to his face.

Whenever you bottle up your feelings, however, Jack is admittedly at a loss at first. Though it would take patience, turning these moments into teaching opportunities will help him become more in tune with emotions over time.

During these moments, all he wants to do is help -- even before he really understands what’s going on. He’ll ask you what you need and rush to assist in any way he can. He hates seeing you hurt, it’s as simple as that.

Jack loves being around you because he learns so much, and you’re just as eager to teach him. Together, you learn to appreciate the little things in life because you both bring such different perspectives to the world.

Overall, the kindness you show Jack from the beginning is what drives your relationship, and he makes it his goal to make sure you know how loved and appreciated you are in return.

As a friend, I think you’d best be matched with…

CASTIEL, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Charlie Bradbury

--Harry Potter--

In the Golden Trio era, I romantically pair you with…

NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM

Honestly, Neville’s insecurities may make him feel a little intimidated by you at first. Thoughts like, “How could someone as friendly, energetic, and spontaneous as her ever love me of all people?” are pretty common in the early stages of your relationship.

Of course, you help Neville understand fairly quickly that you aren’t going anywhere. Because you’re so good at reading and interpreting emotions, you’re able to assist him with addressing these doubts head-on. These personal conversations are what truly solidify your trust in one another and serve as the strong foundations of a powerful bond.

Also, Neville really appreciates your ability to keep a conversation going. He sometimes struggles with this himself, but he’s relieved he doesn’t have to worry about these shortcomings when it comes to you. Talking with you just comes naturally.

While his verbal communication can use some work, Neville is one of the best listeners to have on-hand when it comes to any problems that arise in your life. Someone’s pushing you to your limit? Neville has all the patience in the world to let you rant so you don’t have to bottle up your feelings. Need to talk through solutions to personal issues? He’ll give you his undivided attention while you work your way around to an answer, providing feedback if you ask for it. Feel the need to ramble? Neville will not only listen, but he’ll actually take a genuine interest in whatever it is you’re talking about.

While he otherwise second-guesses all his decisions, Neville surprisingly really enjoys venturing on unplanned, impulsive adventures with you. A favorite for the both of you is exploring areas on the grounds or in nature. You’re usually the one to charge ahead, excitedly talking while Neville hangs back a few steps. He takes in his surroundings, sure, but mostly he’s just watching you and simply feeling happy from the joy you radiate.

Speaking of things you love to do together, gardening is near the top of the list! One of Neville’s deepest passions is botany, and he doesn’t share his knowledge with just anyone. Seeing you take a true interest in your shared garden gives him all the warmest, fuzziest feelings imaginable.

Overall, you’re the one to bring Neville out of his shell, and he’s the one who takes time to listen to you. You bring out the best in each other, and your unbreakable bond makes the two of you fiercely loyal until the end.

As a friend, I think you’d best be matched with…

LUNA LOVEGOOD, Nymphadora Tonks, Molly Weasley

In the Marauders era, I romantically pair you with…

REMUS LUPIN

You want to talk about one of the most understanding and patient individuals out there? It’s this one.

While Remus isn’t always keen on discussing his own emotions, he is very astute when it comes to sensing the well-being of others. Whether you’re burnt out, overwhelmed, on the verge of a breakdown or something bad just happened to happen to you that day, he knows.

Having people like James and Sirius as friends has taught him both how to tune in to the ramblings of a hyper person as well as how to utilize selective hearing. Remus realizes that he never wants to use that second skill with you. Unlike his friends (who he loves very much, mind you) he wants to take in everything you tell him.

It’s this active listening that makes Remus an excellent gift giver. A majority of the things he gives you are from offhand comments that you don’t think twice about making in the moment.

One of Remus’s absolute favorite things about you is the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you’re passionate about. He finds this trait so endearing, and it’s an easy way to make him smile.

Caring for you when your thoughts are traveling especially fast becomes second nature to Remus. Whenever he knows that he’ll see you, he always has at least one outlet (pen/paper, alcohol marker, etc.) for you. He’s also more than fine with you drawing something on his hand if you’d like -- he loves watching you work and he also gets to walk away with something that can remind him of you!

Remus also excels in history, reading, and writing, so I can definitely see many conversations between you two that revolve around these subjects. Also, after both of you complete your own essays, I believe proofreading and/or discussing each other’s work would become a habit of yours.

Overall, the shared ability to read and interpret emotions as well as the simple wish to care for one another draw you two together to form the sweetest couple around!

As a friend, I think you’d best be matched with…

LILY EVANS

--Marvel Cinematic Universe--

I romantically pair you with…

PIETRO MAXIMOFF

Pietro was first drawn to how easily you can hold a conversation. He recognized immediately how easy it was to joke around with you once you warmed up (which didn’t take long -- Pietro’s somewhat gifted with the power of easy conversation himself). You both felt comfortable around each other relatively quickly.

Yes, Pietro’s known for his impossibly quick movements, but no one stops to think that this requires impossibly quick thinking. While Pietro has had some time to grab somewhat of a hold on his abilities, he still struggles with thoughts that just move too fast for him. You show him some of your tactics for dealing with this, and it literally changes his life.

Up until that point, your interactions had been mostly fun and rather lighthearted. But helping Pietro in such a thoughtful way and relating to him on a level that no one usually can made him see you in a different life. That’s how he knew he loved you.

This can be a chaotic relationship at times to say the least.

Many of your conversations can hardly be followed because you often build off of each other’s energy. While your quick minds are often on the same page, a third person might not be able to keep up.

Pietro does NOT hesitate when it comes to standing up for you. As soon as he learned about your people-pleasing habit, he took it upon himself to be on guard for anyone who could possibly take advantage of you. While you may find it hard to say no, Pietro has no problem stepping in and telling someone to back off.

You might feel as if he goes a little overboard with this sometimes, telling him that it “wasn’t right to be mean to that person.” He’ll just glance at you, shake his head and start up a lecture (albeit not a harsh one -- he really does care about you!) about asserting personal boundaries.

Pietro and his ego LOVE compliments, so you can expect a welcome reaction to each one you give him.

He’s also a big fan of going on spontaneous trips, discovering different parts of the world side by side.

But he’ll also settle for getting to hold you while you two talk about your day.

Overall, Pietro has no problem matching your energy, and you both want nothing more than to discover the adventures life has to offer together.

As a friend, I think you’d best be matched with…

VISION, Thor, Tony Stark

--Hamilton--

I romantically pair you with…

JOHN LAURENS

John has a lot of respect for someone who manages to include everyone, so it’s no wonder you caught his eye.

First impressions already told him you were friendly and empathetic, but discovering the more energetic and spontaneous side of you? Yep, he was in love.

Both of you have always had a desire to help people, so being able to do that with someone who shares the same passion and energy feels special. You’re more than a couple; you’re a team.

Whenever John’s troubled by what’s going on in the world, it doesn’t take him long to turn to you. He’s one of the most stubborn people alive when it comes to admitting he needs help, but all he knows is that talking to you seems to relieve him of some of that load (please be patient with him!!).

Meanwhile, he knows you have your own ways of coping with racing thoughts so he feels comfortable giving you space when you need it. If what you need is a person to listen, however, he’s there in a heartbeat.

Serious topics aside, you two just know how to have fun! Between your friendly personalities that naturally draw others in and your impulsive natures that (most of the time) lead you to exciting experiences, you make so many mutual friends! Sharing a group of close friends -- surprise, surprise -- brings you and John even closer.

Overall, you and John can always be found by each other’s side when facing whatever comes your way, good or bad.

As a friend, I think you’d best be matched with…

PHILIP HAMILTON, Marquis de Lafayette, Peggy Schuyler

[madasthesea]

should I tear my heart out now? (everything I feel returns to you somehow)

He’s been reborn many times in his life; forged anew in refiner’s fire. A phoenix in the ashes.

The world that Tony steps into when he exits the Milano is still buried, choking in ash, unsure yet of what it will be when it finally licks its wounds clean.

Tony isn’t sure of what he will be, either.

Or: Tony mourns.

read on AO3

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.

C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Tony remembers that first step out of the cave in Afghanistan, holding the car battery and squinting in the sunlight, seeing his guns in the hands of his kidnappers and knowing, then, that his life would never be the same. So, too, does he recall the first wobbly flight in the Mark II armor, bolting from his garage with a thrilled whoop of joy sitting in his throat, racing into a world unlike any he’d ever known.

He’s been reborn many times in his life; forged anew in refiner’s fire. A phoenix in the ashes.

The world that Tony steps into when he exits the Milano is still buried, choking in ash, unsure yet of what it will be when it finally licks its wounds clean.

Tony isn’t sure of what he will be, either.

“I lost the kid,” he confesses, then crumples in the face of this new world: this world without Peter.

“Leave me alone, Rhodes.”

Someone has been with him from the moment he gained consciousness and he’s sick of being watched. He looks like the same person—a little gaunter, a little rougher perhaps, but still like Tony Stark—but he isn’t. He’s a doppelganger, a replica. A ghost.

“No.”

“Go away, James.”

If they stop looking at him, he can stop existing. That’s how it works, right? Quantum physics, Schrodinger’s cat, the “wanted: dead and alive” t-shirt Peter used to wear. He’s only alive because they think he is.

“Nope.”

Tony’s patience is as thin as he is right now.

“I want to be alone,” he snaps. His snarl used to be impressive but now he just feels like a kicked dog, barking as it hides.

Rhodey finally closes the book he was pretending to read, sighs heavily as looks up at Tony.

“You’re on suicide watch, Tony,” Rhodey says. Tony freezes, the heart monitor sluggishly picking up its pace.

Rhodes settles back a little bit in his chair, tilting his chin up defensively. “Suicidal tendencies double in bereaved fathers.”

“I’m not going to kill myself,” Tony says numbly, shying away from the very thought. Suicide sounds too violent. He doesn’t want to die, he just wants to... fade. Like Peter had. But he doesn’t know how to explain the difference.

“I'm really glad to hear that, Tones, but—”

“I’m not going to because I don’t have to,” Tony interrupts, his vision blurry but not from tears. He thinks he might pass out. He hasn’t said it out loud before but it’s true, and the words tumble out before he can stop them. “I died when he did. This is—I’m just—” Peter’s English homework is still sitting down in the lab, he thinks. They’d read lines together because Peter wanted to impress that girl he was smitten with, in his nerdy, awkward, adorable way. Out, out brief candle. Life’s but— “—a walking shadow.”

Rhodey purses his lips, his eyes suspiciously bright. “Tony. Losing what—You’re still alive. It might not feel like it right now, but life goes on.”

“Maybe it shouldn’t,” Tony whispers. Then he turns onto his side, thinking that he probably hasn’t made the point he meant to.

The constant guard doesn’t stop and Tony knows he doesn’t need it, but he can’t blame them for not believing him.

Bruce falls asleep the third night in. Tony’s mind feels hazy, thinks they might have laced his nutrient saline with a sedative.

He wants out of this bed. He wants to not be looked at but the entire west wall is glass windows.

He knows how to take out his IV without too much mess, unplugs the heart monitor before he takes that off too. The door is propped open.

He spills forward like a puppet on strings, fast and uncoordinated, every limb numb. His head is swimming like he stood up too fast, but the feeling only intensifies the longer he’s up.

He falls a hall and a half away from the Medbay, but he crawls to the wall and hauls himself up before FRIDAY has even finished asking if he wants her to get anyone.

By the time he reaches Peter’s room, he’s running into the walls, tripping over his own feet, but he has to get there. He has to do this because he can’t do anything but this.

Tony’s hand trembles as he turns the knob. He falls inward as the door opens, barely catches his own weight and then his breath as the sight registers: messily made bed, books piled on his desk. There’s a picture of Peter, May, and Ben on the nightstand.

He clambers drunkenly to the far side of the bed and pulls the covers over himself. The sheets smell like Peter.

His breath stutters. His eyes burn.

The sheets smell like Peter but his mouth tastes like ash.

He closes his eyes and imagines what it feels like; burning, tearing, rending. Ignition, combustion, extinction on an atomic scale, on every level of existence. To be so afraid, and so desperate, and in so much pain.

He thinks it probably feels like this.

He turns his face into Peter’s pillow and weeps.

He wakes up to someone crawling into bed with him and he wonders that he doesn’t think it’s Peter, not even for a delirious, half-asleep second. People talk about forgetting, about turning and expecting them to be there, about denial and acceptance and how it takes time, but Tony doesn’t understand that because the knowledge lives in his chest, gnawing and biting and shredding and no amount of denial will take the pain of it away. He wears it like a funeral shroud, breathes it like toxic fumes. It pounds through his veins like poison.

His eyelashes stick together when he opens his eyes. He can’t remember the last time he’d cried himself to sleep, but the pillow under his cheek is still damp with tears.

It’s Pepper, her hair splayed over Peter’s second pillow, the one he never used but Tony did when he came in to comfort him from a nightmare.

“Thought you’d be in here,” she whispers, reaching across the distance and taking his hand. “You scared us.”

Tony blinks at her, his eyes itching and swollen. He knows he should apologize but it seems so pointless. He can’t find it in him to be sorry, not between the emptiness.

Pepper watches him and he watches her back. The light from the hallway paints a stripe of gold in the dark room, the curtains drawn closed.

He wants her to understand that this is all he will be, now. There is no moving on from this—Peter was the gravitational center that was holding him together and now he’s spinning out of control: the world has lost its shape. Everything is trivial and small. Everything is very, very still.

Tony closes his eyes. Pepper puts her hand on his cheek.

“He was—” Tony whispers.

“Your son,” Pepper finishes. “The one thing you can’t live without.”

Tony aches down to his bones. “One of two,” he assures her, because that’s never changed. If he’d lost both of them, he would have had Danvers chuck him back into space. But without Peter—

“I am—I will always be... half alive.”

Pepper nods, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I can handle that. Half’s better than nothing.”

She pulls him to her, their tears smearing together as she kisses his forehead.

“You deserve better.”

“But I want you.”  

It’s the first time Tony’s ventured to the common areas and he regrets it the second he sees Steve. Natasha’s there, too, and Bruce, in the corner with his headphones on, but it’s Steve he doesn’t want to see, and Steve who sees him before he has a chance to escape.

Rhodey’s guiding him along by the elbow and he’s embarrassed and snappish.

“How are you feeling, Tony?” Steve asks politely as Tony leans against the kitchen island while Rhodey reheats some leftovers for their lunch.

“Spectacular,” Tony bites out. Steve gets the hint and doesn’t say anything else for several long minutes, merely eating his sandwich and watching Nat as she starts making tea. She keeps giving Steve a look, like she’s urging him to do something.

“What,” Tony finally demands. “For a spy, Romanoff, you’re not being very subtle.”

Natasha gives him a dangerous smile. “Maybe that was the point. Steve, do you have something you want to say?”

“I think he would take it better if I wasn’t the—”

“Rogers.”

Steve sighs, then looks at Tony.

“We’re planning the memorial for those that... we lost. We wondered if you wanted Peter to be under Peter Parker or Spider-Man.”

Tony thinks he might throw up his lunch.

When they’d told him that May was gone, he’d felt a traitorous, disgusting, despicable stab of relief that he would never have to see her live in a world without Peter. He thought about how, with her gone, he wouldn’t have anyone he would have to be strong for, no one to question if his level of grief was earned. And then the numbness crept back in because it was too much for one person to bear.

He misses her terribly now because she would understand the visceral abhorrence he feels at the thought of Peter’s name of a memorial to the fallen.  

“Neither.” He tries to make it sound imperious and unquestionable, but his voice cracks. He stands, shakily, leaning heavily on the counter as he does.

Steve clears his throat. “Alright. For the private funeral, I’m assuming Peter would be best.”

He wonders how no one else is losing their balance when the whole world is tilting off its axis at the mention of Peter’s funeral.

“No,” Tony rasps. “No. We’re not having a funeral.”

“Tony,” Steve sighs, in that way that used to make his hackles raise, but now it doesn’t make him feel anything but tired. “Peter’s gone.”

“No, he isn’t!” Tony snaps, his head jerking up. Steve’s eyes widen and he looks impossibly sadder. Natasha steps forward, dread in her eyes and Tony knows what they’re thinking. “He isn’t gone. He isn’t lost. He’s dead. Just say it. He’s dead. Why do you all keep talking like I don’t know? Like it isn’t all I think about?”

He glances around him, at all the people looking at him in pity and shock, and feels the confession build up in his throat like bile, hot and acrid. “I held him. I watched. I didn’t wash his ashes off my hands for three days because that was all I had—”

Tony breaks off, grinds his teeth together to hold back a sob but the sound leaks out anyway.

“Peter’s dead,” he says breathlessly. “He’s dead. If he was gone, I would bring him back. If he was lost, I would find him. But he’s dead and that is the only thing in the universe I can’t fix.”

He holds Steve’s gaze for a moment, takes a shuddering breath, and then crumples forward just as Rhodey rushes toward him, catching his shoulders.

His friend lowers him to the tile floor, leaning him against the island to steady him.

“Rhodey,” he gasps. “Rhodey, do you remember—do you remember when my parents died?” Tony asks, his voice coming in spurts as his lungs spasm in pain at the thought of taking in oxygen when Peter isn’t. “Rhodes, do you—”

“I remember—”

“And you, you found me, drunk on the floor,” Tony hiccups. Someone thumbs a tear off his cheek, but he doesn’t know who, can barely make out the shapes in front of him. He clutches at Rhodey’s t-shirt, his arms shaking.

“Yeah. You were one shot away from alcohol poisoning,” Rhodes sighs, wrapping one hand around the back of Tony’s neck and supporting his head.

“James,” Tony says, his voice broken. “I’d rather relive that night a thousand times than know what it feels like to lose my kid.”

Rhodes’ face crumples and a tear spills over, clings to his eyelashes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Tony’s next sob is muffled against Rhodey’s shoulder as his friend clutches him to his chest, Tony’s tears soaking the fabric of his t-shirt.

It’s only when the cabinet behind him starts shuddering, too, that Tony realizes it isn’t a cabinet at all, but Steve, supporting both of them. Tony turns his head and meets Steve’s red eyes, then glances to his right and sees Natasha, her bottom lip trembling as she once again wipes a tear from his cheek. Bruce is knelt behind Rhodey, his face pinched in concern and pain.

“I can’t bury an empty coffin. I can’t read his eulogy.”

Steve nods, tears shining in his eyes. Tony unclenches one hand from Rhodey’s shirt and holds it out, Steve instantly grabbing it.

“I’m sorry about Sam,” Tony says, and for the first time the loss of everyone else hits him. The whole world is grieving, an entire universe full of fathers who have lost their children and suddenly don’t understand what their purpose is anymore. It aches all the way down to his atoms, to the bits of stardust in his veins that he shared with those people, however many lightyears away. “I’m sorry about Bucky. I’m so sorry.”

Steve bows his head, but it doesn’t hide the tear that falls onto Tony’s arm.

If Thanos had had any mercy, Tony decides as most of what’s left of the Earth’s mightiest heroes sit on the kitchen floor and weep, he would have killed them all.

Tony used to have to fight to escape his own whirling thoughts, but now he lets himself be submerged in them, in the roiling, tumultuous sea that Peter’s absence has created, like a hole punched through the center of the earth.

He lies paralyzed in bed as anxiety tears through him. He isn’t sure what he’s afraid of—he’s already lived his worst nightmare, but not quite because Pepper—

Pepper isn’t in bed next to him.

“Pep?” He asks, too quietly, being yanked back into his own body. He has been so horribly selfish recently—Narcissus staring at his own reflection but not because he loves it; because he loathes it so impossibly much. His own continued existence often seems so detestable, he acts as if he’d died anyway. It is unforgivably cruel to those around him, but he cannot make himself stop.

“Pep?” he asks again, stirring from his resting place.

She appears in the doorway of the bathroom, her jaw set and shoulders squared.

“You ok, honey?”

“Yes,” she says breathlessly. She comes forward, puts a hand around his stomach as she passes and leads him back to the bed. He sits heavily, watching her in dull confusion as she sits cross-legged on the rumpled covers.

“Tony,” she murmurs, curling an arm around her stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Tony blinks and the bedroom around him disappears, diffusing like a mirage in the desert to show the reality that he lives in.

He has been huddled in the skeletal remains of a once-great forest since Titan. The fire is out but he’s still waiting to burn and here is Pepper, kneeling in front of him with a sprouting seed in her hands, the green of new life nearly foreign in this bone gray world.

One new tree. She is promising one new life, but the atmosphere is still so choked with toxic air the sunlight can barely reach the earth and one tree is not enough to purify it all.

He reaches a trembling hand forward and stops short of brushing his fingers against Pepper’s knuckles.

Surely, it will die if he touches it. Surely he can’t have this.

Pepper’s face falls. Tony forces himself to take a breath of poisonous, burning air.

“I love you,” he says because even the end of the world cannot change that fact. “I love you.”

He kisses the apple of her cheek, the corner of her jaw. He kneels on his bed in his room and does not let himself think about how quiet the forest is now that all the birds are dead; he kisses her stomach over her baggy t-shirt.

“I love you.”

He doesn’t know how to love a child that isn’t Peter.

Growing up, Tony had always wiggled his loose teeth. He’d push on them with his tongue, pleasure-pain shooting through him, until they finally came out.

He sits on the porch in one of the wicker chairs Pepper had picked out and grinds his teeth—it was a habit he’d kicked in his first year of MIT, changed it out for worse ones—and thinks about holding an infant in his arms and being expected to move on.

The screen door swings open and Rhodey walks out, his leg braces whirring softly. He’s got two glass bottles in one hand and he passes one to Tony, who snorts upon seeing the label for root beer rather than anything with alcohol.

“Pepper told you,” Tony asks blankly.

Rhodey settles into a chair with a sigh, pushing it back on two legs until he’s balanced, like he’s a sixteen-year-old instead of a decorated military man on the far side of fifty.

“Yep. Congrats, man.”

Tony hums. “She can tell I’m not as happy as I should be,” he murmurs. “She thinks I don’t want it.”

“Do you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can’t imagine why she thinks that then.”

Tony shoots him a sideways glare—he’s not in the mood for levity or being congratulated, he wants to brood. He’s always been a very good brooder, an overthinker. Someone that pushes on a bruise.

Rhodey pops his soda open with a fizz, then reaches over and does Tony’s too. Tony takes a sip, just for something to do.

“Know what I think?” Rhodey asks.

“I get the feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“I think you’re a great dad.”

Tony looks down at his hands, twists the bottle around. “I don’t think I’m a dad anymore. I don’t think I’ve got it in me to do it again.”

“You don’t grow out of being a dad, Tones. That baby will come and suddenly every instinct and emotion you felt with Peter is going to come right back.”

Tony can’t answer, unsure how to say that that might be the thing he’s most afraid of.

“Peter would love having a little sibling, you know that, right? He’d be thrilled.”

Talking about Peter hurts, but not talking about Peter for so long has been like slowly suffocating. He can’t stop the way his mouth twitches up.

“Yeah,” Tony sighs, nodding. “They’d be absolute terrors, the two of them together. My DNA and that kid’s talent for trouble? I’d be doomed.”

It’s like pressing on a bruise, picking at a scab. It hurts. It hurts, but he can’t stop.

“He was so freaking smart, you know? Just brilliant, some of the stuff he came up with...”

Rhodey laughs. “The kid drove you half out of your mind, Tones, what are you talking about?”

Tony snorts, takes a swig of his tepid root beer. “Yeah. Oh, do you remember that time he tried to make me a birthday cake?”

Rhodey chokes on his own mouthful of soda. “Geez, how long did it take you to get the batter off your ceiling?”

“It was still there,” Tony cackles, “when—”

Pleasure-pain, from his teeth to his toes.

“Peter climbed up and tried to scrub it off,” Tony continues, hiccupping over the gap. “But it had fused with the building, I swear. Would take a nuke to get that stain out.”

Pleasure-pain. Exquisite, tender. An open wound weeping blood and affection.

Tony clenches his jaw hard, grinding his teeth together.

“She wants me to go to a support group,” Tony suddenly blurts. “In the city. It’s for dads, all their kids—”

“It might be good for you,” Rhodey says, scratching at the label on the root beer bottle with his thumb.

“It won’t be. Not that. I’ll... read whatever, do a blog, some other self-therapy nonsense. I can’t go.”

“Why not? They’re all in your situation, Tony. It’s for dads like you.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s for dads whose kids died. I killed mine.”

Rhodey nearly tips too far backward in his chair, windmills for a second before crashing back to all four legs.

“What? Tony—”

“I killed theirs, too,” Tony says robotically. “How could I possibly go and meet them all and talk like I’m one of them, all the while knowing that I killed their babies?”

Tony grinds his teeth harder, pressing until it hurts, until a muscle in his jaw seizes. Rhodey stares at him in horror for a moment, then shakes his head with a heartbroken expression on his face.

“You didn’t kill them,” he breathes. “Tones, you didn’t.”

“I didn’t save them.”

“Neither did I,” Rhodey says, lifting his chin and accepting his defeat with a dignity Tony could never fathom possessing. “But I tried. And so did you.”

“Yeah,” Tony whispers. “Yeah.”

“Blogging, huh? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Think I’d be any good?”

“Absolutely not. I can’t wait to read it.”

Tony never sleeps well when it’s hot. The simmering summer air smells like grass and dirt up here, rather than sweat and cigarette smoke, but the heat makes him feel antsy, sick. It makes it hard to breathe.

He wakes up at 4:30 and doesn’t want to go back to sleep. He doesn’t want to get up either; go to the lab until Pepper’s awake, have breakfast with the hot, cloying air only worsened by the heat of the stovetop where Pepper makes scrambled eggs and toasts English muffins.

He wants to be sedated, he thinks. Surely no one would fault him for wanting a little bit of blissful, painless unconsciousness, today of all days.

The air is too hot. Tony kicks off his blankets, pulls off his sweat-soaked shirt.

Cicadas are still chirruping in trees whose leaves are rustling despite no cooling breeze blowing through them. The middle of August has always been—had always been... is Tony’s least favorite time of year.

Tears sting behind his eyes, adding to the heat all around him, the burning inside him.

He can’t stay in bed any longer.

He showers in the guest bathroom, so the sound doesn’t wake Pepper—the water too cold on his skin, so cold it makes his sternum ache, and he’s shivering when he gets out and goes downstairs, not bothering to towel dry his hair.

The light filling the kitchen is gray, already turning white. Early sunrises are another reason he hated summer as a younger man. He didn’t like to be woken up by the light after a long night partying, but he hasn’t slept in for years now. Can’t, most of the time. Didn’t want to, a year ago today. He’d been too excited, as if it had been his own...

It’s Peter’s birthday.

He sits at the kitchen island and stares out the window over the sink and watches the sunrise.

Tony can’t see the lake from where he’s sitting, but he can hear the splashing, the laughter, the shouts of a phantom child running and jumping in, the hot summer sun chasing away any cold that might linger in the water. Peter’s impressive acrobatics make May gasp and his friends cheer. The frosting is melting off the cake as it sits on the porch, half-eaten, the detritus of lunch and presents still at the picnic table.

He can envision it so perfectly. The way Peter glows in the light, in the affection.

The sunlight filters golden and piercing through the trunks of the trees and Tony blinks, and the image is gone.  

Sniffing hard, Tony rubs his face, dispassionately unsurprised to feel the tears there.

He can’t be here. In this house that Peter will never set foot in, in this kitchen where he’ll never spin on the bar stools while he waits for Tony to finish cooking dinner. In this life that Peter wouldn’t even recognize.

He can’t be the expecting father and newlywed husband and retired superhero. Not right now. Not today, it’s not—it doesn’t fit. Right now he does not exist outside his grief.

He can’t go back to being the Tony that Peter knew either. He can’t be the longsuffering mentor, the lab partner, the doting surrogate parent.  

He grabs the keys to Peter’s favorite car from the hook by the door.

The road is empty, stretching on before him, nothing to measure distance but the white lines darting passed him, and he lets himself imagine, for a moment, that he can drive forever, run from his grief and his responsibilities and his guilt for having kept living when Peter couldn’t.

But he knows he can’t and he knows he doesn’t really want to, despite himself. He wants that cabin by the lake, he wants his amazing, wonderful wife, and he wants his baby. He just wants Peter to be there too. He wants to be able to think about the future without his chest aching.

The greenhouse catches his eye and he slams on the brakes, the car stopping in the middle of empty road. There are so many plants hanging in front that the sign is nearly invisible.

Two weeks before the end of the world, he and Peter had helped plant trees for Earth Day. Well, he and Spider-Man. Service was always Peter’s thing, but he’d talked Tony into it, smiling and reciting facts about oxygen and climate change and Tony had agreed.

“Sometimes it feels like all I do is destroy things,” Peter had murmured as he pushed the dirt over the roots to keep them warm, wiped his palms on the Spider-Man suit as if it was a ratty pair of jeans and not a multi-million dollar piece of tech.

“It feels nice to help something grow for a change.”

Tony does nothing so well as he destroys. He doesn’t think anyone has destroyed as much as him—not in all the annals of history, no conqueror, no tyrant has ever burnt the entire universe to ash like Tony has.

The greenhouse is still closed, because it’s 5:30 in the morning. Tony climbs out of the car, checks the hours on the door, then sits in front of it and waits, because here he is neither husband nor grieving almost-father. He can be a novice gardener: he can help something grow.

A half-rusted pick-up truck pulls into the parking lot some time later. Tony lifts his head and watches with dull eyes as a middle-aged man wearing sturdy work boots caked in mud climbs out.

“Can’t say I’ve ever had anyone waiting for me before,” the man greets casually as he comes forward, a big ring of keys jangling in his hand. Tony watches as he finds the right one with practiced ease, inserting it into the padlock on the door.

Tony doesn’t know what to say so he just mutters a soft, “Sorry.”

“No reason to apologize. What can I help you with?” The gardener swings the doors open and a wave of damp, scented air rushes over Tony’s face.

“I need a tree.”

Tony follows the man into the greenhouse, his muscles aching from his long wait.

“Any particular kind?”

“Um, no. I don’t know. I... I live upstate. By a lake.”

The man continues to walk, leading him through a maze of long low benches overflowing with flowers and trellises with vines climbing all the way to the ceiling. Tony turns his head this way and that, finding it easier to concentrate on the flowers than on the conversation.

He tunes back in as the man shows him a little tree in a pot. “—It’s known for its red and gold fall colors.”

“Red and gold, huh?” Tony asks, smiling faintly. He looks at the tag and sees that it’s called the Autumn Blaze Maple.

Peter loved autumn. He was one of those people that was decked out in sweaters and scarves and drinking cider and cocoa from the first day of September, even when it was still eighty degrees out.

“I’ll take it,” he murmurs, rubbing one of the leaves between his thumb and forefinger.

The greenhouse owner helps him get the tree to his car, balking a little at the expensive sports car that Tony carefully puts the tree in, uncaring about any scratches that might get on the leather seats.

“Thank you, sir,” he says as he prepares to climb into the car.

“Thank you, Iron Man,” the man replies earnestly, his voice low.

Tony’s eyes burn. He clenches his jaw and shakes his head, then ducks into the car, slowly backing out of his spot.

He puts on Peter’s favorite playlist on the way back, the summer air already warm enough for him to roll his window down as the early morning sunlight floods the world in gold.

He hums along to the songs he knows well enough, his voice rough and cracking.

Fifteen miles from the lake house, he pulls onto the shoulder of the road, and rests his head on the steering wheel.

The tears come instantly. Tony has never been a big crier, but for the last four months, any time he’s alone he feels like he’s going to break apart, just cry until he dries up, until he resolves into a dew. Niobe reborn. There’s an endless well of grief inside of him and he fights it, all the time, around Pepper, around any of the team that bother to show up, but it builds and builds until he has to cry it out or he’ll burst.

He sits with his forehead against the steering wheel and listens to the tears dripping onto the leather upholstery and the soft guitar music in the background and breathes.

After a long time—three new songs that Peter loved—Tony sits up and looks out. The breeze that comes through the window smells like dry grass as it ruffles Tony’s hair and the leaves of the sapling. He closes his eyes for another long moment, remembers laying on the tower rooftop in the heat of August with Peter next to him, smelling of sweat and grinning in his Spider-Man suit.

He sniffs, wipes away the tears still clinging to his chin, and puts the car into drive, easing back onto the highway.

He doesn’t check if Pepper is still asleep when he gets home, but she isn’t out on the porch waiting for him like he’d half-expected. It’s only 6:45 and she’s been so tired lately. Tony makes her tired, even if she doesn’t say it. He’s happy to let her sleep.

He’s ridiculously, anxiously, worryingly cautious as he maneuvers Peter’s tree out of the car, making sure not one twig gets bent, not one leaf falls off. A therapist would have a field day, probably, Tony thinks, scoffing, but he isn’t any less careful as he crouches and lifts the base of the thing into his arms.

He doesn’t make it very far. It’s heavier than he expected, and he’s never bothered working on getting the muscle he lost back. He stops after fifteen yards, gently sets the tree back down, then bends over his knees huffing and puffing. Then he stoops and picks it up again. And walks and stops and pants and picks it up. His arms start shaking embarrassingly fast.

There’s a wheelbarrow in the garage. Some carts in his workshop. He could even call a suit, if he wanted to, just fly the tree to its spot on the lake and blast a hole in the ground and stick it in, but it’s Peter’s tree. It’s Peter’s tree and Tony’s going to carry it. He isn’t going to avoid it or find a shortcut or a cheat and he’s absolutely mental because it’s a tree but it’s Peter’s and he’s going to carry it, shaking arms and all, because he couldn’t carry Peter when it counted.

He’s sweating by the time he finally sets the tree down in the right spot, the sun already beating down on him. He goes and finds a shovel in the garage and gets a bucket of water, which he pours a little of into the pot even though the tree’s probably fine.

The first shovel-full of dirt is hard, baked in the heat of late summer. Tony carefully throws it away and gets another one, stamping down on the blade to get it to sink deeper.

He loses himself in the rhythm and sweat and monotony.

The hole expands until Tony can maneuver the clump of roots into it. He does, carefully, making sure it’s sitting level and deep enough. He fills in the hole with the shovel as much as he can, then kneels on the dry grass and pushes the soil up around the trunk as if he were tucking a child in.

The leaves of the sapling provide meager shade against the sun.

He stares down at his hands, covered in dirt. It’s underneath his fingernails, buried in the creases of his palms.

Tony rubs his hands together, smearing Peter’s ashes as his breath quickens, as the golden sunlight darkens until it’s bleeding orange. Every wheezing gasp makes the wound in his side ache with pain, makes his heart long to collapse in on itself because Peter’s gone. Dead and dusted—

Pepper finds him with his forehead pressed against the tree, tears watering the earth.

“Tony, sweetheart,” she whispers.

“It’s Peter’s—”

Peter’s birthday, Peter’s tree, Peter’s ashes. Tony had insisted on not giving him a funeral but had erected a gravestone anyway: here in his own yard, where he can see it from the kitchen window, the inside looking out of a new life that Peter will never get to have.

“I can’t leave him.”

“It isn’t Peter, Tony. It’s a tree.”

“I-I know that.”

“Then come inside,” Pepper coaxes, bending in a way that makes her sundress show off the little bump of her abdomen. “I made all of Peter’s favorites and they’re going cold.”

“Ok,” Tony says, brushing a kiss to his fingertips and then pressing them to a knot in the bark of the tree.

Later that night, lying in bed in the warm dark, Tony cries.

“I’m the only person left in the world that loves him,” he whispers to Pepper as she holds him. “I’m not enough.”

May, Ned, MJ, they’re all gone. Every person who would feel the hole that Peter left in the world like a gaping wound is gone and it feels like all the hurt they would have felt is his, like he needs to grieve for all of them because Peter deserves that much and more.

“I didn’t even do it right. I didn’t—I didn’t tell him.”

“But you loved him,” she says firmly, running her fingers through his hair. “That’s more than you had to do.”

“I loved him,” Tony agrees. “I couldn’t not.”

“That’s enough.”

He isn’t sure about that, but as much as hates it, it doesn’t matter now. He loved Peter when he was alive and didn’t show it. He loves Peter when he is dead and now all there is to do is show it to the world. To live it and breathe it in and suffer through it and let it change him. He doesn’t know how, yet, just like he still isn’t sure how to live in a world without Peter. He’s stumbling blind, but he’s pretty sure he’s moving forward. It’s all he can do.

Tony wakes up to the sound of retching and shakes his head to rid himself of the dream of Peter laughing.

“Babe?” He calls sleepily, making his way to the bathroom.

He finds Pepper there, sitting on the tile floor and wiping tears and sweat from her forehead.

“Let me find your medicine,” Tony says quickly.

“I already took it,” Pepper whispers pathetically, wiping tears off her chin. “I threw it up.”

Tony kneels in front of her, takes her face in his hands and wipes the tears away. “Are you in pain, honey?”

“No,” she says, but her bottom lip trembles. Her nausea has been terrible, but Tony has never seen her quite this upset.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers, and the tone he uses nearly sends him reeling back to days when Peter would come crawling in the window of his penthouse at 2 AM, crying because he couldn’t save the woman being attacked in time, because the robber shot himself before Peter could stop him, because he couldn’t be everywhere at once.

He swallows, forces himself back to the present.

“I just,” Pepper sobs. “I always thought my mom would be here.”

Tony’s heart sinks, his shoulders slump. Pepper’s mom had been one of the ones Snapped. They’d flown out to Illinois for the memorial and Pepper had born it with grace and decorum and steely strength while Tony had still been drowning under his own loss. He hadn’t been there for her like he should have been and if he had been in her position he might have hated her for it.

She never had. She had always understood.

The weight that Tony carries cannot be shoved aside. It cannot be lessened or lightened or shared. He does not know how to live his life with it constantly bearing down on him, pressing him backward down the hill, the stone getting heavier and heavier as he goes.

But his wife is sitting on the bathroom floor, crying because she misses her mom, because she’d always assumed that when she became a mother herself, she’d have her there to support her.

If Tony can’t bear his grief and support the love of his life when she has done nothing but comfort and strengthen him, what is the point of him?

He wanted to die when Peter did. Part of him did die, but it wasn’t the part that loves Pepper Potts. He’s ashamed it took him so long to realize that.

“What do you need, Pep?” he asks.

She whimpers as she holds out her arms and Tony instantly sweeps her into a hug, into his lap, and holds her while she cries.

He can be Sisyphus, rolling his stone uphill in atonement for his failure, and he can hold his wife. It’s progress.  

There are gummy bears at the check out line.

After the Snap, the survivors had gone insane trying to prepare for the end of the world that had already happened. Store shelves were emptied a mere hour after being stocked, prices of even the cheapest goods skyrocketed. It took nearly four months for production and consumption to start leveling out and even now you can only find non-perishable items with any regularity, unless you’re willing to pay a lot. Meat and vegetables are hit and miss delicacies.

This is the first time Tony has seen gummy bears since before that alien spaceship had appeared in the sky and he’s grabbing them and putting them on the counter before he even registers what he’s doing because he always used to buy them for Peter to eat while he did homework.

“Wait, one more thing,” Tony says, dashing back into the aisles, searching until he finds a familiar jar of JIF peanut butter. Smooth, not chunky. Peter hated chunky peanut butter.

When he gets home, a grocery bag in each hand, Pepper is in the kitchen, sitting at the island.

“Tony, you didn’t have to,” she says, but she’s smiling a little.

“Mm, it was more of a favor for the cashier actually. She looked bored out of her mind, thought seeing Tony Stark might cheer her up,” Tony says flippantly, unloading his purchases for Pepper to inspect.

“Oh, is that right? ... Did you buy gummy bears?”

Tony puts the frozen burritos in the freezer, then rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah, well, you said you didn’t know what you wanted...”

Tony leans against the counter opposite Pepper, idly spins the package with a finger.

“They were the kid’s favorite,” he blurts after a minute. Pepper hums, her chin in her palm as she looks at him.

“He used to eat them with peanut butter ‘cause—teenage boys—freaking... aliens, I swear, just no taste buds at all.”

Pepper raises an eyebrow, then reaches across the counter for the jar of peanut butter. She opens it, then the gummy bear package, and unceremoniously dunks one head first in the thick spread.

She pops it in her mouth, licking the extra peanut butter off her fingers and chewing steadily. Tony feels stupidly nervous watching her, as if her not liking one of Peter’s favorite snacks will be a personal affront. But after a moment, she smiles, laughs.

“That’s actually really good.”

“Is it?” Tony asks, perking up. She nods again, going for another gummy bear.

“Try it.” Pepper offers the next one to him then prepares another for herself. They chew them together, both laughing a little bit because as bizarre as the combination is, it’s surprisingly good.

Pepper looks up at him and smiles, reaching across the island to take his hand. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Tony smiles back, his own a little dimmer, a little less familiar. He hasn’t smiled without a shadow since coming back from space, but all that matters to her is that he still smiles.

“It was Peter’s idea,” he shrugs.

Pepper nods, stands and rounds the island to the sink. She takes the picture frame off the shelf, the one with Peter and Tony and that stupid certificate that Tony wishes he could find.

“Thanks, Peter,” she says, kissing her fingertips and gently caressing the image of Peter’s face.

Tony exhales a shaky breath, standing behind her and dropping his forehead between her shoulder blades, rubbing his hand along her arm.

Their home is warm and lit and the fire of the world has died down to smoldering ashes. He still chokes on it, sometimes. He still sits by Peter’s tree and hates every breath he takes that isn’t acrid and deadly because his every moment without the boy he loves like a son should be pain.

Peter wouldn’t want him to be in pain: Peter would want him to learn how to love his baby like he learned how to love Peter. He would want Tony to build a swing in the branches of his tree and play with his daughter in its shade. He would want him to eat gummy bears and peanut butter.

“Thanks, Peter.”

[smalltragedy]

* herman tommeraas, cis man + he/him | you know donovan mercer, right? they’re twenty one, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, four months? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to ice boy by corbin like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole fear hidden behind a stoic stare, bleeding from your nose and from your gums, and the night sky with all its stars, with all its mystery and unknown thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 15th, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 21, est, they/them )

looks away as i finally post his intro after being kinda awol fr however long. i love him a lot n hes also bri’s character mercy’s younger brother so u hv to be nice to him. think abt mercy’s life. then think abt ducky. im sry in advance tht his intro’s a little longer ive hd ducky fr like. a year or two n i’ve been playing him a While <3 as always like this if u’d like 2 plot n i’ll try 2 msg u bck bt otherwise im gna just hop right into threads bc obv i need to. change my methods.

ABUSE, VIOLENCE, DRUG ABUSE, EYE INJURY, GANG MENTIONS TW.

mini playlist.

father ;; the front bottoms / ice boy ;; corbin / lose yourself ;; eminem / my own worst enemy ;; lit / say it ain’t so ;; weezer / maps ;; yeah yeah yeahs / star stopping ;; lil peep / benz truck ;; lil peep / trauma ;; nf / northern downpour ;; panic! at the disco / your graduation ;; modern baseball.

statistics.

full name: donovan mercer.

nickname(s): ducky.

birthday: march 15th, 1999.

zodiac: pisces sun, aquarius moon, aquarius ascending.

mbti & temperament: intp & theorist / phlegmatic.

label: the despondent.

hometown: hell’s kitchen, new york.

sexuality: bisexual (bt not out). 

pinterest.

biography.

born in hell’s kitchen to vinny mercer and a mother who ran out of the hospital as fast as she could, as soon as she was able. she’d gone so quick that she’d never given ducky a middle name - just donovan. the younger brother of mercy (shoutout 2 bri)

his father’s the right-hand man of a well known mob boss named lars amaretto, and so, you can imagine the kind of environment ducky (& mercy) grew up in. weapon & drug dealings, interrogations, violence around every corner. a brutal way of living, no place to raise two children.

implied abuse tw // their father was not kind, or merciful - and ducky was a runt compared to mercy, small and sensitive and kinder than his brother. weak, and filled with softness, with big brown eyes and a smile that should’ve been able to melt ice - but it didn’t. and it never did.

he cried often, and was punished often for it until he learned to stop crying - at least in front of their father, and mercy too, at some point. only in the comfort of his room, with doors locked and blinds drawn closed. implied abuse end of tw

he dreamed, too, dreamt often. he’d been obsessed with outer space since childhood, as long as he could remember. school had once shown man landing on the moon, and ducky wanted that. wanted to be that, wanted to be there, up with the stars, discovering the unthinkable.

abuse mention // but it was discouraged, heavily so - projects destroyed by an angry fist only to be reconstructed to the best of ducky’s ability, with mercy’s help, all throughout the night. he’d saved up for a telescope when he was thirteen, but it’d been destroyed almost immediately when discovered. not a day went by that their father didn’t tell ducky that he was, first and foremost, stupid - and would always be. end of abuse mention

to the point where he stopped trying, simply. he never graduated high school.

abuse mention // anxiety mention // anyways … at the age of fifteen, he’d have enough. he was sick of the abuse, the pain - the crying behind closed doors, the sneaking around, the constant feeling of needing to escape, impending doom, anxiety attacks in the shower and in school bathrooms and at the back of the bus where nobody sat besides him because he was - that boy, the son of that man, the brother of that brute. he’d been a teenager and he’d already been an outcast by all means - an outcast in his family, no matter how hard he tried to appease vinny, and an outsider everywhere else.

the plan took months of preparation, paper ripped out from the back of his school notebook and stuffed beneath his mattress, details of his escape from a checklist of essential items to makeshift maps of bus routes to different cities.

all for nothing, the moment vinny discovered it, the edge of a map sticking out after a rushed morning.

heavy abuse tw // violence tw // it’d been the same day he’d gotten the nickname - ducky - the way the wound wrapped below his mouth, and the way it’d begun to heal - puckered, at first, like a duck’s bill. a better name than eyepatch, at the very least. the scar’d run from the arch of his left brow, across his eye, down his cheek, and below his lip. his eye sustained injury, and not allowed to see a doctor about it, it never healed properly.

eye injury // corneal scarring, impairing his left eye. astronaut dreams destroyed, but not in a matter of seconds. in the matter of an hour, maybe more - and that’d been much, much worse. 

he stopped trying to run away after that. tried to be more like their father, more like mercy - more brutish, less feeling. spoke less, and less. spoke hardly at all, unless spoken to first.

still didn’t matter. still lived his days in fear, still knew it’d never change. nothing would ever change.

the mercer brothers have been floating around the north carolina scene for ~5ish years now, trailing after their father who is consistently chasing after their mother with no luck. they’re currently residing in palm motel. can we get a hell yeah?

personality & facts.

he’s actually very? intimidating? when you first meet him. mercy’s younger brother, with a criminal’s record almost as long as his - a scarred face and a mean resting face. it takes at least five minutes of conversation beyond small talk before it starts to weigh on your mind that maybe, he’s not as bad as he seems.

and - well, he isn’t. but he’s guarded - so guarded. more-so than mercy, because mercy’s quicker to anger, quicker to react, and ducky tries so hard to drown out the noise. but he’s not a robot, and his facial expressions can give him away in a second.

he’s seen what happened when mercy had a glimpse of something good in his life (though, it wasn’t actually good at all - mercy had someone, at least. at the very least) - and how quickly it’d all fallen, and so ducky puts a barrier between him and others. distant, as much as he can be.

it hurts, because ducky isn’t by any means antisocial. he doesn’t hate people - he wants to be normal, wants to have friends and a girlfriend - or maybe even a boyfriend, god - but he’s so afraid. ducky is, by nature, a very scared person. terrified to his very core. he knows there is always eyes on him, and mercy too, and he knows that nothing is worth getting someone else hurt.

you know him as mercy’s little brother, and he’s quiet you know that - but his name is ducky, and you think - he’s not too bad. and he knows this, knows the doubts. knows that it’ll get back to mercy, eventually, that his brother is nothing more but a pussy. so he fights more than he’d like to, against the guilt that buries itself deep within his chest with every thrown fist. he throws up, afterwards, in the garbage can outside. too much to drink, he says, rare grin - because grins are convincing, and grins with bleeding gums are intimidating. he learned that from his brother.

violence makes him sick to his very stomach. he can’t watch horror films, or even action films, without feeling queasy. there’s been more times than he can count where he’d thrown up after a fight, or after an interrogation, usually in private but in the occasional presence of mercy.

they fight, a lot, sometimes - ducky’s too soft, too weak, and it’s bad and it’s terrible and ducky knows that mercy’s afraid. for him, of their father, and his wraith. ducky knows that if mercy isn’t hard on him now, their father will be on him harder. still. there’s resentment, small but there, like the flame of a match. he doesn’t know what’ll happen when there’s nothing more to burn, but he doesn’t want to find out. he’s afraid to find out.

he’s still in love with the moon and the stars, and the planet’s - and their moons, too. its subdued, now, though. a silent passion - one that is often not watered, left for rot. he sneaks into engineering lectures at the community college, occasionally, or physics, or whatever peeks the small curiosity inside of him.

commits small acts of kindness when nobody looks. doors held open, the meals of elderly folk eating alone suddenly paid. picks up litter besides trash bins, and always cooks extra than what he needs and leaves the rest for mercy. it’s these small things that make him feel, just the slightest, better about himself.

because god - there are layers and layers of self-loathing. it’s a labyrinth, and he’d never speak of it - but he can’t stand his own reflection. doesn’t keep photos of his family, only a few sparingly of mercy.

a liar, sad to say. has little experience with. ehem. intimacy, and the bodies of others, but lies often and says that he does. mostly to his brother, but word travels quick - and he’s not nearly as much as a fuckboy as is rumored, having only been with a handful of girls, if even that. it’s better this way - if people know that he throws others away like they’re nothing.

he ghosts often, too, if he does get to talking with anybody. the moment ducky feels a spark, something pulling at his poor heart, he ghosts. he develops feelings too easily, too often than he’d like. has left many friendships without explanation, because of this. you know the priest in fleabag season 2? the scene where he comes to fleabag’s house? yeah. tht’s ducky!

has maybe half the amount of clients that mercy does, but he’s working on it.

pretends he doesn’t care as much as he does. pretends a lot, like there’s nothing soft to him. but a trained eye can see clearly through this. even so - even if you can see that there’s more to ducky than violence and drug deals - you’d still have to break through a dozen walls.

in the rare occasion you get him talking - i mean, talking a lot - he’ll talk about space. ramble off a dozen useless facts about dwarf stars and black holes and all of jupiter’s moons. about a video game he likes, about nothing and everything at all. but as soon as he begins, he stops - embarrassed. apologizes, shuts his mouth, disappears to wherever. anywhere but there.

drug abuse // has a. complicated relationship with benzos n xanax n a various assortment of painkillers. ironic bc he hates drugs due to. his chosen career n wldnt do most of what they sell, bt yknow. this ws inevitable. hates beer bt forces himself 2 drink it bc toxic masculinity probably man idk.

overall just … he’s a soft boy, with a big heart - bigger than anybody else in his family, that’s for sure, but his exterior is far different than that, and it’s hard to tell.

violence mention // purposely loses fights so that he doesn’t have to severely hurt someone. because sometimes he just - he was raised in a violent environment, and sometimes he snaps. sometimes ducky just fucking snaps. and his vision goes red, and he can’t control himself - because need to survive kicks in, and violence is all he knows. if someone pushes ducky - pushes him enough, he breaks. he fights back. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows, and that’s not an excuse - and he knows this, and god, he’s so tired. he is so. tired.

wanted plots.

u look good tonight ... ;; wld love a connection in which he is feeling emotionally compromised n maybe kinda hs a thing w someone bt hes like. very unreliable n kinda ghosting bc he is very afraid n it wld b maybe bad fr them to b anything other than hook ups. cld apply to smth very intensive or smth very surface lvl i’ll take thousands.

palms sweaty ... moms spaghetti ... ;; ppl tht ducky just hs fkn brawled. cld b anybody fr any reason. ducky prob lost n he prob lost on purpose bt also ur muse cld maybe kick ducky’s ass? cld b a fake fight cld b a real fight. cld b a npc fight n then ur muse cn patch up ducky? possibilities endless. maybe they hv a nice spaghetti dinner n both of them r both bruised up frm their fight. sometimes fights end in spaghetti dinners. thanks eminnem or whatever.

own worse enemy... ;; ducky needs friends bt hes bad at making friends n sometimes he fks shit up by pushing ppl away n self sabotaging n being a major cunt n sometimes he just ghosts bt hes always very remorseful abt it? this cld b a very like. up n down friendship of any type its just. where do they stand. r they friends. r they enemies. r they lovers? probably not lovers. prob just platonic. but still its the thought tht counts. 

and also ;; literally just like. anything. clients who buy off of him n like. casual friends n casual enemies n casual hookups. ppl hes ghosted. ppl hes embarrassed himself in front of. maybe ur muse tries to get ducky to socialize or maybe ducky is like. u are too much fr me. n ur muse runs off crying. endless possibilities all u hv to do is call this number now. 

[legumelupin]

just a lil ficlet thing i wrote because i was inspired by legumes and my user. it’s severely unedited and may not make any sense whatsoever but it made me happy to write and it’s one of the shortest things ive ever written in terms of fanfiction. it’s not even 1k words.

“Hey Rem,” Sirius snickered. “Look at this.”

Sirius slid over the book he had opened on the library table to Remus who hadn’t shifted his attention over to his needy boyfriend. Sirius, as usual, had been trying to get Remus to talk to him the entire time they’d be in the library despite the werewolf’s pleas for them to ‘just study in peace for once’. Remus should know there’s rarely peace when Sirius Black is involved.

“Hm?” Remus asked non-committedly, his eyes still on his Transfiguration essay that was due in less than two hours. With the full moon having been not even a week ago, Remus was hard pressed to finish all the work he’d miss despite his wonderful friend’s notes and answers to homework. It was a pretty awful moon, too, so Sirius and James were more adamant about helping him out. He usually hated accepting their help. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate them or anything, it made him feel pitiable but he also knew that they weren’t doing it because they felt bad for him. They were his friends and they wanted to see him be happy and while it was hard for him to understand that all the time, James was always there to mother hen it into him.

“Moony!” Sirius whined, “Look! Look at what I’m showing you, it’s funny!” Sirius continued and Remus hummed in reply again causing his partner to scoff. Sirius shifted his attention to James.

“Jamie, look at this. I’m trying to show Remus,” the pureblood said with as much pointedness in his voice as he could muster, “but he won’t look even though I told him it’s funny!”

James looked up from his book with his nose scrunched and his eyebrows drawn inward. His glasses were falling down his nose a bit as he half-heartedly glared at Sirius. “What is it, Pads? I’m trying to look studious,” he snapped and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Evans won’t notice you being studious, Prongs. It just looks unnatural for you,” Sirius snorted and James gave him an incredulous look.

“I study, dumbass. Sometimes,” James shot back. “I may have a certain reputation but I still have a reputation at home to uphold too,” he snapped without any bite really.

“Oh shove it, Potter. You don’t need to study for shit and what I have to show you is a right laugh,” Sirius insisted and James rolled his eyes fondly.

“Alright, what is it,” he asked, putting his book down way too eagerly and scooting next to Sirius.

“So I found this herbology textbook—“

“What the fuck, Pads?” James interrupted with a laugh, “A herbology book? You haven’t studied herbology since first year,” he continued with a perplexed cadence to his voice.

“Hey, if you can look studious to impress a chick, I can study fucking plants,” Sirius retorted and James playfully shoved Sirius shoulder.

“Fine, fine. What is it you need to show me?” he asked, leaning over the textbook that Sirius had opened. Sirius giggled wildly for a second before pointing at the spot on the page that had him in a tizzy.

“Read this,” he snickered.

James’s eyes scrutinized the text, his nose scrunching up as he murmured the words underneath his breath. Sirius could hear him say words like ‘fungi’ and ‘plant infection’ before James stopped murmuring the words and started giggling to himself. He’d gotten past the preamble of unnecessary bullshit and started reading the one important sentence that was in the book.

“This is important information,” James expressed, lifting his head before looking towards the scarred teenager sitting on the other side of Sirius.

“Remus, have you seen this?” James asked and Remus answered with another ‘hm’ that short and definitely showed that he was NOT listening in the slightest.

“Moony,” Sirius whined again. “Even James is asking you to look at what I have to show you. You’ve probably written two times as much as Minnie set out originally, just look! It’ll be super quick,” he pressed on and Remus sighed deeply, closing his eyes like he was trying to control snapping back.

“What?” he asked through clenched teeth, his eyes penetrating into Sirius’s and the latter only grinned.

“Read this sentence!” he urged, pushing the book down the table and in front of Remus’s nose and pointing at the section he was talking about. He made James read the whole passage but Remus only needed to read one sentence.

A smile broke out onto his face that he was obviously trying to control as he read it but it was obvious.

‘Legumes are a special type of vegetable important to potion making, however the fungus Colletotrichum infects multiple different taxa of legume such as those members of the Lupin taxa.’

“Our Moony is a legume!” James said with a certain airiness to his voice.

“Our favorite legume boy,” Sirius continued dreamily. “Loopy loopy legume,” he continued.

“Oh sod off,” Remus said but his voice was filled with adoration for his friends. “I have an essay to finish.”

“Such a studious legume boy,” James commented.

“My boyfriend is such a smart legume,” Sirius added on. “I’ll always protect him from fungi too,” he vowed and Remus’s cheeks started to turn pink.

“Moony the Legume has a nice ring to it,” James smiled brightly.

Remus sunk into his seat a bit as his cheeks continued to turn even pinker but he couldn’t help the smile that was forming on his face. He tried to refocus on his essay but Sirius and James just kept making comments about how he was a legume and how he was smart and beautiful. He really did have the best friends.

[nonbinaryhatboxghost]

Okay, today has been a quiet Saturday morning so far, I have some time, and I like lists. So here is my random (personal) ranking of Star Trek series and movies, out of what I’ve seen, which is everything but seasons 5-7 of Voyager, all of Enterprise, and all of Picard. I’m only counting shows with three or more seasons because it’s easier. But let the record show that I love Lower Decks so far and The Animated Series is actually a blast.

SPOILERS THROUGHOUT

Series Ranking

The Original Series - As influential of a show as it is, I constantly forget how much damn fun the original Trek is. There is an almost Community-like variance in tone and genre throughout the show. And I’m a sucker for a future that embraces primary colors. It is the Trek show I revisit the most so far, and it remains my favorite.

Deep Space Nine - This one comes close, though. It starts out as a solid spinoff with very well-defined characters, and then becomes a big, sprawling epic that had my eyes welling up by the end. It feels more like a sequel to The Original Series than The Next Generation did to me. It dealt with subject matter both different and darker than was expected for the time. It had characters at odds with each other. Religion was explored in a way that balanced brutal honesty with genuine respect. War and the various traumas it induces were acknowledged. And it had “Take Me Out to the Holosuite”. I only finished this one recently but I look forward to watching it again.

Discovery - I was rooting for this show to be good even as it went through so much behind-the-scenes drama during its first two seasons. Even with all of that going on, the show became a fascinating watch as you saw it change from its arguably-too-dark beginnings as a prequel, to the almost Doctor Who-like second season with its joyful embracing of classic Trek, and finally to its current iteration that at long last gives us a Trek show that’s not bound by prequel limitations. Michael Burnham is such a great character and getting to see her arc alone makes this one of my favorite Trek stories. The queer/nonbinary representation also warms my heart.

Voyager - I’m just starting the fifth season, but the show has settled into an interesting groove with its characters. And Voyager’s characters are so damn good that they counterbalance a lot of the show’s early problems. It takes a while for Voyager to realize that the Kazon do not work very well as villains. But once the show realizes that, it begins an upward trajectory in quality that reminds me of Deep Space Nine after it began doing Dominion plots. And Seven of Nine’s effect on the crew dynamic lives up to the hype. Any scene between her and Janeway demonstrates such a unique relationship between captain and crewmate that an episode plot can be meh and still worth it for a scene with those two. Also, Janeway is the best captain character. No other Trek show (that I’ve seen so far) comes close to showing us the weight of leadership like Voyager, and Mulgrew constantly brings it.

The Next Generation - This is my first Trek show. It’s the one that my dad watched. There are several standout episodes to me, but I find myself less drawn to revisiting TNG than the other Trek shows because ultimately it took me too long to understand and care about its cast of characters. If you were to ask me to describe any character from any other Trek show, I would be able to. Ask me to describe a TNG character and I would likely fail to give any good adjectives for any character besides Data and Worf. As iconic as the show is, and as great as it became, it doesn’t have the same pull on me as other Trek shows. But it was the template for the spinoffs that followed, and the portrayal of Picard’s trauma post-Borg assimilation earns its reputation as an all-timer for me.

Movie Ranking

VI: The Undiscovered Country - I’m surprised this one isn’t talked about as much as other Trek movies. It’s a very frank depiction of prejudices and learning to deal with them. It has one of the best Kirk/Spock scenes ever. Christopher Plummer as a Klingon. The ORIGINAL cast credits sign-off (yes, Avengers: Endgame borrowed from this). A score that carefully balances menace with eventual hope. A fun whodunit structure. I could go on and on. It’s just so damn great, and so far the only successful send-off to a Trek crew in any of the movies.

II: The Wrath of Khan - It’s a classic for a reason. I’ve probably rewatched this more than any other Trek movie. You got your great villain, your classic crew beginning to deal with their mortality, an all-timer death scene, a kickass early James Horner score. What more could you want?

The Motion Picture - This is an interesting one. When I first watched it as a teen, I hated it. I agreed with every critique of it being thinly plotted and having an excessive runtime. When I revisited it in my 20s, it became a favorite. It’s Star Trek’s exploration of existential dread, and the struggle to find agency and identity within that dread. It has possibly Jerry Goldsmith’s greatest score. It is the best that the Enterprise has ever looked. This movie envelopes you with eerie and epic imagery, culminating in a finale with interesting philosophical ramifications and a well-earned return to optimism from its crew. This one is criminally underrated.

First Contact - This one is just rock solid all around. The best-ever TNG villains, further exploration of Picard’s trauma from Borg assimilation, Alfre Woodard, Alice Krige, fun action, the genesis of the Federation. It has the best balance of darkness and fun out of all of the Trek movies. It also has a character actually say the words “star trek” in a way that never ceases to make me smile. I don’t know if it’s a good line, but it’s funny regardless.

Beyond - Like The Motion Picture, I initially disliked this upon first viewing. I was still in the middle of watching The Original Series and was in the wrong mindset for this mashup of TOS and Fast & Furious. But it’s one of the most underrated Treks because it’s a perfect balance of the more kinetic action found in the 2010s with a very well-done breakdown of the inherent point and value of Star Trek: learning to be better and move beyond fighting the same battles among ourselves.

IV: The Voyage Home - This one is such a satisfying culmination of the crew’s arc starting in The Wrath of Khan that the joy of the 1980s material is almost just a bonus to me. Nimoy does a good job of keeping things light without disregarding stakes. He gets the best portrayal of the crew’s camaraderie in this and The Search for Spock. And Spock’s reaction to the concept of “exact change” always makes me laugh.

III: The Search for Spock - I revisited this one recently and it held up better than I expected. Seeing the weight of Spock’s death on Kirk in the beginning hits hard. Christopher Lloyd as the Klingon villain is casually one of the best Trek movie villains. And seeing the crew uniting over trying to bring back Spock gives us some of the best on-screen moments of this cast.

Star Trek - One of the reasons I love Beyond so much is that it retroactively makes this one better. I was crazy for this movie when it came out. I was in high school, Star Trek in general was something I was only really aware of because of my dad. But this is the thing that got me into Trek. And as mixed of a bag as it now plays to me, ‘09 Star Trek being a gateway for me to general Trek, combined with the perfect casting of the crew, the excellent Giacchino score, and the emotion of the opening sequence, thankfully makes this one still a blast to revisit.

Nemesis - I have only seen this twice, and both of those times without having seen TNG in its entirety. This was also the very first Trek movie I ever saw. Nostalgia is a factor for why this is higher than the others on the list. Curiosity is another, as I was unaware of Tom Hardy when I watched this, and have no idea what my opinion will be on rewatch. But what I always remembered of this movie was its ending, which even to a novice like myself when I first saw it had an impact.

Generations - There are quite a few great scenes that Stewart gets in this movie. Malcolm McDowell is also great in it. But the whole plot feels too forced for me to get actually swept up in it. And as fun as it is to see Shatner and Stewart share the screen... it ultimately has no impact and leads to a strangely lame death for Kirk.

Insurrection - The idea of Enterprise going rogue against the Federation for forcibly relocating a population for a natural resource is such a good concept... which makes the goofiness and half-baked writing of this entry all the more confusing. All the elements are there, but it feels like the tone was forced to be lighter than the material warranted. It’s frustrating because Frakes’ directing chops that he showed off on First Contact are still visible here. But for whatever reason, this one just falls apart.

Into Darkness - This one is low on the list mainly because it represents almost all the negative traits of the modern blockbuster to me. Darkness without depth, franchise callbacks without substance, and no character development/change by the end. Another reason why Beyond works better as a sequel to ‘09 Star Trek than this one is that Into Darkness feels more like it’s trying to make Star Trek a bigger movie franchise rather than develop this iteration of the Enterprise crew. Nothing and no one is changed by the end of this story.

V: The Final Frontier - It is the most difficult Trek movie to sit through, and yet I can’t call it a disaster. For all of its misfirings on the comedy front (dancing Uhura, for instance), the camping material with Kirk, Spock and McCoy is genuinely great. The premise of its villain being on a quest to find God is ultimately a misfire, but it leads to a very engagingly ridiculous climax centered around the question “What does God need with a starship?” There are far too many undeveloped ideas in this one, but that scene is worth seeing this movie for. At least, now that we know it didn’t kill the franchise, as so many apparently feared when this came out.

[cainfm]

『BILL SKARSGARD ❙ NONBINARY』 ⟿ looks like CAIN ROMANOV is here for THEIR SENIOR year as a LITERATURE student. THEY are 25 years old & known to be RIGHTEOUS, TRUE, EVASIVE & GUARDED. They’re living in MORIS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ JAMES. 21. EST. SHE/THEY.

hdsjnf hello all ... it is james again ... here with another ... replacing noelle with cain bt it’s fine im fine. i’ve hit muse limit u wn’t hear frm me again ... so hit tht like button .. this isnt the best intro ive done bt mostly bc im just kinda like ... taking an old one n rewriting it as i go

TW CULTS, HEROIN USE / ADDICTION, DRUG ADDICTION / USE, ABUSE, PSYCHOLOGICAL / EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, PTSD, ANXIETY, TRAUMA.

aesthetics.

dangling limbs from tree branches, yellowed book pages, opened bottles of vintage wine, oversized sweaters and deep under eyes, bleached denim, worn leather gloves, cat hair against black cloth, fields of wheat, broken windows, descending staircases, tight-lipped smiles during public appearances, golden skies, light spilling from windows, stumbling over one’s own words, wire-framed beds, linens, wool scarves, making the wrong decisions; running, from others and yourself.

basic info.

full name: cain alexei romanov

nickname(s): n/a

b.o.d. - feb 19th, pisces :) happy birthday!

label(s): the connard (previously), the escapist, the facade, the fallen, the lothario (previously), the pariah, the phoenix, the puppeteer (previously), the sybarite, etc.

height: 6′4″ ... bruv.

hometown: stratford, connecticut

sexuality: bisexual uwu?

pinterest

stats

inspired by: i feel like i did ... have an inspiration for him but i don’t ... remember ... so ur not getting this one ... i might edit this later if smth pops into my head but. alas.

biography.

born to connecticut senator vaughn romanov and well known philanthropist adelaide romanov, they were born into a life of privilege in a very prominent new england family. they’re the eldest of five in a very nuclear, picture perfect, preppy chic family.

was brought up to be a class a, outstanding, perfect citizen. golden child to the all american family (willfully ignoring the fact that his father came from russian immigrants). cain listened, obeyed, never strayed outside the lines.

it was always intended for cain to take on after their father, to follow in his footsteps and become a politician too. there were several expectations for them, including joining model un, debate, deca, splitting time between soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse, becoming class president, and all while maintaining a valedictorian - worthy gpa.

even volunteered on the weekends at homeless shelters and food banks, proving to everybody in their community just how much of a gem they were, darling, perfect member of society.

always eager as a child, eager for approval, eager to impress and wow and dazzle authorities and adults alike - cain never really had a problem with any of it? always attended church on sundays and sometimes even wednesdays. participated in family dinners and christmas photoshoots and new years eve parties, easter egg hunts and family reunions.

born and raised in stratford, super close to lovell to the point where it’d always been expected that the romanov children would simply just go to radcliffe, as did their parents. their home in stratford is a big, fancy, seven bedroom eight bath house with two fireplaces and an expansive dining room. no pool, but a sturdy treehouse made by scratch.

however. their model citizen persona was just that, a persona - a charade. in the community and to his family, cain was a hardworking citizen who upheld standards, a leader. to classmates and peers, from elementary to college - cain was the devil themself.

arrogant, harrowing, an outright bully who tore down others when they felt like it, often unprovoked. they were the senator’s son, and a rich one at that - rules never applying because they simply never existed for them, the upmost privilege because of who their family happened to be and their place in society. tattlers of their behavior faced far more consequence than cain ever did, or would.

the sort of person who’d genuinely look down at someone if they had less than them - a narcissistic dickhead who cared about two or three people, tops, outside of their family. was never physically violent, nor did they raise their voice, but that’s what made them all the worse. made them all the scarier. spewed classist bullshit with ease and was addicted to the power high it gave them.

their only redeeming quality was their protectiveness over their family - never the best person, but family is family, and they thought it ought’d to be protected.

went into political science and business to please their father, mainly, every step they made - every path cain went down, every choice from the electives they took in high school to the brand of shoes they wore, was to build them into the ideal presidential candidate.

probably joined a frat though cain never participated in parties too often, known for keeping their composure even when others resorted to violence, or got too drunk, or caused any public commotion, because they didn’t like to leave a bad image for the press. did their drugs in private but left nothing to the imagination, publicly.

but alas. during college, two very important series of events occurred.

seeking thrills, searching for fun in all the wrong places - cain became a middle-man between dealers and producers. never dealt it, and never produced it, but simply transported it between one another; the less everybody knew about each other the better. it was always a very hushed operation. one that they could’ve profited much off of, though money was never the motive for them.

and then he met earl and may meyers, fellow volunteers at a thanksgiving food drive; an older couple immediately drawn to cain, reasonable considering just who their father was, and cain to them. they can’t tell you what about the couple was so appealing - the air around them was something else entirely; some called it unhinged, others would call it comforting. but they were kind folks, down to earth - very religious, and very warmhearted. liked his name, a lot - like in the bible, they’d say, and laugh, and pat his arm. they would say, on occasion, that they reminded them of their late son.

it’d happened towards the end of their junior year, a few years after they’d gotten involved in the drug business - and the meyers were volunteering more and more, always at the same places as cain. the same times, too, as if they were learning his schedule. in retrospect - it was odd, but cain’d never suspected a thing. they kept talking, and it became a genuine friendship - a secured vote in the next election.

it only took a few months into this that they’d begun to talk about religion more. the sin of wealth, and god choosing only a select few when he cleanses the earth. only the worthiest souls. they’d eventually get into the rhythm of telling cain they were special - that they could see they’d be selected, see it in their aura, in their dreams, god sending them messages, etc. most would find it to be absolutely ... bonkers.

but it was oddly appealing to cain - like, maybe i am being constrained by capitalism. maybe i am disappointing god - aren’t i a devoted follower? it felt nearly ridiculous, but it seeped into their mind. psychological manipulation, lasting over months and cain unsuspecting. as if they could ever be the one manipulated. but the meyers could ask cain to jump, and they’d simply say - how high?

soon enough, earl and may told them that they were moving. that there’d been so many more like them and that it was time to join them, time to prepare - to get ready for the rapture. cain held off at first, finishing up their first term of their senior year and their life planned right before their eyes. everything they’d ever worked for. their loyal companions and close-knit family, their side-business that’d only gotten stronger - a long-term girlfriend and the engagement ring that burnt in their pocket, made their heart beat twice as fast at the very thought. still the same as before, cruel without a cause, but still surrounded by those who loved them - who could find something in them to love.

but a month into their senior year, cain had a sudden change of heart. they were ready, now, if not now then never later. all because of a third event. a surprise. a shock. a betrayal.

they had discovered that they were not their father’s child - not at all, not even by an inch. they were someone else’s, completely. their mother had broken down and cracked, after a particularly straining christmas party. the discussion was long, and the heartbreak only grew. the anger only grew. the hurt - it grew. more and more, with each pitiful sob their mother gave them. it was a mistake - a one night stand in a fit of petty anger in the very early stages of their marriage. and only cain knew - like they had to carry this weight, now, that they never asked to have.

it was the kind of information that broke a person. cain idolized their parents, done everything they’d ever asked - ever expected, and beyond, let them mold them like putty into whatever form they wanted. only to find out that in the end, it didn’t matter. it never mattered, if cain wasn’t the blood child of vaughn. if their mother - a woman who hadn’t a bad bone in her body, was nothing but a cheat and a liar.

cain unraveled.

they spent the first week getting into an altercation with near anybody who looked at them wrong. physical, usually - though arguments arose frequently as well. with no explanation, only thrown fists - often drunk, or high, or sober too - it never mattered. they spent a night in county jail, it’d gotten so bad. it seemed to have no end.

right until new years, just after midnight, when cain had disappeared without a word. it was treated like a missing persons case, though there was no evidence of foul play or kidnapping, and not much could be done about it.

BEGINNING OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

the only people who knew of cain’s whereabouts were the meyers - because they had left together. a last minute decision that, if they had only waited a simple minute longer, would’ve never happened. a mistake they desperately wished they could take back. a mistake that led to another event - maybe the most important one of them all.

they’d gone only hours away from stratford, and lovell, the border between new york and connecticut and not as far as cain had initially thought, but deep, deep into the woods. that was where the cult’d been. they wore white linens and cotton, but never mixed. technology banned, prayers and daily chores. it was natural, at first. for the first three months, that was.

it could’ve been grand. it was peaceful, and mind-clearing, and they treated cain as if their birth was a sign from the angels. cain come to undo his past. a potential leader. but the longer they stayed, the more apparent it became that they weren’t all that the cult had wanted, so desperately, to believe. once they began to slip up, once members became displeased - that’s when the punishments began to occur.

sometimes once a week, but sometimes - and, later, much more so, multiple. the memories are suppressed, for the most part - but there are some things they simply can’t - the hands, they can’t forget. pulling, and tugging, and gripping - begging, asking him to repent, please, repent. their head held underwater, counting seconds until their vision’d eventually darken and go out, only to be pulled out gasping and sobbing. these memories stay - these memories repeat themselves, like a record stuck on repeat, days blurring into one another.

when they tried to fight back - they were subdued. heroin was the first step. little by little, everyday - enough to leave them in a high they wouldn’t remember; enough to burn a hole in their memory. and with these dimming memories, cain’d begin to sneak paper and pencil into their living arrangement, their room, writing everyday. wrote as much as they could remember from home - about their family, their life before it all - the people they loved. they couldn’t remember what they’d written, some days.

and when those notes were found, bound by thread taken from their own clothing to form a shabby book - that’d been the final straw. dragged, kicking and screaming - mind-numbingly high, into place. the twisted reenactment, retelling of cain’s demise. how exactly he’d gotten his scar. it would’ve been near perfect, if they had only stayed still and let them brand the mark into his forehead. but instead - they settled, eventually, for the chest. then - the left cain to die in the middle of the woods. in the middle of nowhere. no trails or campsites to follow, nothing at all. nothing but trees. nothing but his notes and the clothes on their back. they hadn’t even known what day it was - almost forgotten the year, too.

cain should’ve died there, but cain got up. and they ran. and ran. and ran. until they hit something, eventually. a road. it’d been pure luck that they’d found a car near immediately afterwards, whose driver wasn’t doubling as a murderer, who took them to the hospital - and who gave cain that chance to live. they were found on new years, a full cycle - a full year in the cult that’d changed their life.

END OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. STILL MENTIONS OF TRAUMA / MENTAL HEALTH / RECOVERY / ADDICTION BEYOND THIS POINT.

after being reunited with their family in the hospital - everything went by very fast. they couldn’t recognize their youngest sibling, but they also couldn’t remember why they’d left in the first place. couldn’t remember the name of their girlfriend, but the color of her hair and the way she smelled. they couldn’t give answers to their actions.

and after being put into therapy and recovery for their addiction - that’s when they find out that their father’s a presidential candidate, that they had been - that they used cain’s disappearance as a story for the press, one to garner votes. their return is national news, and their public opinion skyrockets. it’s supposed to be glorious, and a miracle, a blessing - but cain feels restrained. confined to the role they’d always been expected to play - expected to get up and continue with their life, as if nothing had happened. 

but nothing didn’t happen - everything happened, and cain’s different now, vastly so - no longer who they thought they were. they change their major to literature, abandon politics. they get some cats, start working at the library, and they put on some leather gloves - their method of staying away, of keeping a comfortable distance. they are different, now, and simply only wish to focus on their recovery.

personality.

they’re no longer who they once were. a year of trauma does things to a person - and with memory loss that weighs heavy on their mind, they are near completely different. they remember parts of their old personality, their old lifestyle - enough to know they want to be better. they’re convinced that it’s karma, what happened to them. for being who they were - acting the way they did. just ... a bunch of self-blame.

even with the massive ego, cain’s always been a quiet person. but now - now cain’s even quieter. kinder, if not a little sarcastic, like a relic from the past. they’re distant - but it’s one of fear, restrictive and tense - not one made out of their own comfort. 

smokes medical marijuana but rarely drinks ... as if that’d make a difference. in an effort to beat their heroin addiction, they’ve turned to prescriptions instead.

like i mentioned ... cain has four cats. it’s basically their entire personality. two of them were from before their disappearance, but two are new to their little (school-approved) family. there is: frank (big chungus when yelled. white and gray), brock (orange. fluffy. stoic. devours food), shoelace (black furred, missing an eye and half an ear), and crunchwrap supreme (crunch for short. calico with bent ears). yes, they have photos of their cats in their wallet.

cain’s memory is fucked - like, really fucked. they forget a lot of things. short term, long term. it’s a constant struggle. they managed to keep their notes from the cult, so those help - but not always. they forget dates and names and faces and events. sometimes they wake up and don’t know where they are. they don’t sleep often, anyways. with the trauma came night terrors, and in an attempt to avoid them they don’t ... sleep often. only a few hours a night if they can withstand it, because it’s frankly terrible.

they suffer from severe touch aversion. skin contact with anybody, of any sort, is enough to send cain into a full-blown panic attack. they were leather gloves more often than not in an attempt to combat this disadvantage, without hindering their dexterity too much. even with clothes, they’re not the biggest fan of physical contact. it won’t send him into a panic attack, but they visibly flinch away. they’re very clear from the get-go, if someone is too close to them, that they don’t like physical contact.

dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week. their therapist recommended that they keep writing their notes, after reviewing them himself, so cain does. they keep an entire journal where they write, and sketch a little, because it helps them cope and de-stress. it means a lot to them, actually.

also dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week - therapist recommended he kept writing after looking at his notes - so he does, keeps an entire journal where they write and like … sketch a little, because it helps them cope. means more to them than it would seem. but, unfortunately, part of their coping involves getting far too involved in their own mini-investigation of the cult they’d been part of. when the cult was tracked back to where cain’d been brought, they were already gone - and cain wants to know where. wants to know how to find them. wants justice, vengeance. wants nobody else to get hurt from them.

pretty blunt ... won’t go out of their way to announce that hey, they were part of a cult, and that’s why they’re gone and that’s why that’s the way they are now - but they also won’t lie about it, if the topic comes up in conversation. they don’t like delusions, don’t like secrets, nor do they like unnecessary attention.

being at radcliffe makes cain anxious because - well, they’re surrounded by people they’ve been doing wrong by for years now and they can’t even remember which ones. who, what, when, why - distant memories, if they’re even there at all. is constantly trying to figure out how to redeem themselves. they’d leave, if it hadn’t been their parents’ assistance that they stay there. so that someone always has an eye on them. 

but like ...they screwed over a lot of people when they left. from plugs / customers to their ex-girlfriend, who they are, undeniably, still in love with (you can’t forget that feeling) - to their friends. like. everybody, pretty much KBJNSDFKSNLD

is often pretty high ... i’d say it’s just the medical weed but. alas :/ take a guess :/

hates cars & swimming & crowds. hates feeling trapped and will avoid it whenever possible. doesn’t want to be seen as unsociable, but it’s difficult. 

they ... have a tendency to run away when they’re overwhelmed. likes to climb trees because they’re tall enough to. there’s a tree outside of their window that they climb out to frequently, even though it’s like a ~safety hazard~ or whatever. just really likes to hide out. 

used to be in perkins when they last attended radcliffe, but they gave their spot to someone else and that was like - 100% fine w/ cain tbh. lives alone in moris now.

feels the need to redeem themself ... to like, everybody. like, they want to avoid conflict and be a better person, but it’s hard, and they don’t necessarily like confrontation either - and not everybody believes that cain’s changed. it wouldn’t be surprising if people were suspicious of cain, for whatever reason, because they don’t ... really have the best track record anymore.

developed a stutter as one of the results from their trauma. their voice is damaged from screaming and they’re self-conscious about it, but they’re working on it because there’s more important things to worry about. in general, cain looks ... gaunt, too thin, and generally sickly.

repeating senior year ... fr obvious reasons ... and probably won’t graduate anytime soon because they’ve changed their major so late.

can still hold a conversation & they’re not really afraid of socialization. it just takes a toll on them. they’re pretty lowkey, as a person. soft, sorta. quiet but they won’t be an asshole (on purpose). they like people! just. very low energy.

so like ... tldr ... not an asshole anymore ... dealing with a lot of trauma ... trying to be a good person ... yes ...

wanted connections.

locals... people they’ve grown up with their entire life. people they’ve wronged, people who idolized him, envied him, despised him, etc. 

enemies... would love for a bunch of these just. a hoard of people who fucking hate cain. because it fits the bill. they could’ve bullied them, or wronged them, whatever. anything works. let’s make it happen.

exes... that they’ve dumped... old hookups, ex-friends, people they got into an argument with or fought before they disappeared last year...

ex girlfriend... that connection wld b rly neat!! i have it up as a wc rn but we can take that down ... will be holding intense american idol - esque auditions. remember that cain ws a fckn classist pig and probably only dated people who were also rich with influential families. (unless u present a very good case to me ... then maybe ... perhaps ...)

family friends... family rivals... people he knows mostly thru their family.

redeemable... people they’re trying to redeem themself to... trying to prove their worth, and that they’re a better person now, etc. etc.

old clients... :) angry clients. that they left in the dust.

perkins... people he knew from perkins ... old pals or maybe enemies idk he was pretty insufferable ... people he used to go to fancy parties with sometimes ...

angery... people so so so so fucking pissed at cain, for whatever reason.

reconciliation... reconnecting... used to be friends and we can be friends again :) and i will be better this time! i’m a slut for slowburns, especially slowburn friendships ... enemies to friends ... now THAT is sexy.

victims... of bullying ... :/ of their bullying specifically.

sof...t... wholesome content ... nothing but soft, understanding friendships ... or developing friendships ... make them feel welcomed again... forgive them...

an..g.st... friends to enemies. enemies to bigger enemies. miscommunication. betrayal. whatever u want.

no hookups!!! ... please only previous encounters. nothing in the present. because it just wldn’t make sense.

unless... eyes emoji. H DSJLFJKS just kidding! i’d accept MAYBE some kind of sexual tension but like ... the sort that hurts, because it just Cannot Happen (i will not let it happen). or maybe a fun, casual sexting thing but like. nothing physical. pleasthe.

fuck politics!... mayhaps, they hate mr. romanov and his politics or smth. he’s probably corrupt in some way, so! go at it!

aggression... i feel like a lot of the conversations between cain n other ppl start out rly ... angry bc theyre Mad. at them.

ok it’s bed time please plot with me. 

[brunhiddensmusings]

random movies/shows i just remembered were a thing

there is no point in any of this other then me being impressed that i remember all of this shit and reflecting on ‘i couldnt make this up if i tried’ a live action tv series of alice in wonderland, it was violently 80s an ‘alf’ cartoon series, that was MORE violently 80s an alice in wonderland cartoon series from the makers of the alf cartoon series which was only moderately 80s neverending story animated series that is somehow underwhelming enough it erases memory of itself a show where james earl jones sits in some kind of negative plane room that has a floor, doors, windows, a chair, and one lamp yet somehow no walls, the windows just kind of hover there. he told stories. how the hell did a show where james earl jones just tells soothing stories fly under everyone's radar? a live action reading comprehension series that featured a kid with magic gloves that rode a stationary bycicle to warp through dimensions that im sure no other human being ever saw so im partially thinking it might have been a hallucination except hallucinations typically have higher production values an animated glowworm movie that was trying to do with the glowworm dolls what MLP the show did for MLP the toys. it contained at least one song i can still remember the tune of 25 years later. there was a moleperson that gave off strong lesbian vibes who was rebelling against her biker vibe moleperson family an animated movie about ‘the lollipop dragon’ that seemed like there was other content on the intellectual property but ive never seen any, taking the form of a car race through whats essentially candyland to prevent liver and onion flavored lollipops being the new official christmas candy to be distributed by santa clause live action series that was only ever on at like 4AM where someone tells fairy tales that are slightly more disturbing then they should be while illustrating them in chalk which is one hell of a trick the animated series ‘mummies alive’ that was trying to basically copy/paste everything they could from the ‘gargoyles’ show but forgot to make it good not to be confused with the ‘tutenstein’ show, which somehow made less sense ‘dink the dinosaur’ a tv series hoping nobody noticed it wasn't actually land before time the animated series a live action series where a modern family was trapped somewhere that was a dinosaur infested jungle so they had to live in a tree house that was only just barely taller then the t-rex that was continually stalking them. the moon had claw marks on it i think? it was basically swiss family robinson but early 90s animated movie ‘the elm chanted forest’ that im more just baffled my parents were able to acquire something that obscure in their pirated vhs collection, i cant think of a possible reason anyone in my family would ever have been in the same room as a copy of this. like damned i havent even seen any of the youtubers that rate obscure bizzare movies even mention this fever dream. the highlight was probably when the talking mushrooms started breakdancing in a impressively racist manner like damned you raised the bar on racist cartoons somehow for about two minutes in an otherwise completely inoffensive movie from i think croatia. seriously its the best part, even better then when the cactus king summons his sapient weapon minions and engages his ferris wheel of doom to kill all the beavers

the animated series ‘superdave’ about a daredevil who gets repeatedly maimed, and repeatedly framed it as though he was a real person in the way jackie chan adventures does the animated series ‘wish kid’ where macully culkin aged 9 is granted basically fairy odd parents style wish abilities from a baseball glove. gilbert godfried its there, constantly, like hes almost there as much as the kid is holy crap i forgot the tazmanian devil got his own show for like five months yall remember when the ps1 first launched? when the game cases were strangely huge for no particular reason because they hadnt adopted the jewel cases yet and there were only like seven games available for the system and none of them even knew how to incorporate memory cards? ‘blazing dragons’ was a point and click adventure game that happened to be one of those seven games, eric idle was one of the people who made the game yet ive never met anyone who remembers playing the game or even hearing anything about it. yeah, this game had an animated series.... it was surprisingly witty in a were not even trying to make sense way that was purposefully avoiding explaining its world live action series ‘zoobalie zoo’ where people in the worst fursuits known to man just kind of exist in an almost entirely empty set where a handfull of circus cage wagons that i assume were their homes were the only structures outside of like two cardboard bushes why the hell was ‘mighty max’ not a cultural icon the way invader zim was, that show rocked so hard ‘the robonic stooges’ where the 3 stooges are robots jhon candy had an animated series where he played himself as a camp counselor. it.... kinda worked almost, blending the generic 80s camp movie ‘bad land developer’ formula with self aware complaints. it only stank a little the animated ‘happy days’ spinoff where they have a time traveling spaceship

not to be confused with the one where the partridge family lives in the year 3000, or when casper the ghost lives in space.... im beginning to see a trend here ‘starship troopers’ the CG series where surprisingly nobody ever died an animated series about a green rabbit on a spaceship that i only recently learned also was not a fever dream from when i was 8. all images i see of it only convince me more that im still hallucinating its existance i cant rmember the name of it but a live action series about aliens living on earth, all the adults have actual costumes to disguise themselves as humans but the baby, who is apperantly the ruler of the universe, is a disturbing pink puppet. also they have magic powers instead of technology and the theme song was ‘wishing on a star’. memories of this show still occasionally haunt me but it was still better then charles in charge just on novelty value there was a ‘jhonny quest’ reboot that aged him up and incorporated CG for a kind of cyberspace setting for the sole purpose they had a villian that was a quadrapallegic but could do things in the cyberspace setting, yet really nobody should have cared because the cyberspace setting wasnt connected to any real world imput devices so he was just the main boss of his own videogame why are you picking on this man. they were foggy on if haji actually had magic powers or just really hardcore yoga skills, and one fanatical zealot villian who basically escaped from the place they keep the well written batman antagonists you remember the ‘the way things work’ book? it had illustrations on every concept of physics and mechanical processes that used mammoths to explain everything from the screw to the lever to sewing machines to integrated circuits. yeah, it had an animated tv series .....somehow not to be confused with ‘cro’, an animated series about a mammoth that was frozen, thawed in the late 80s, was able to talk, and was a framing device for his stories of a weirdly sexily drawn caveman teen that invented all technology

it was basically ‘the croods’ but better and 30 years earlier a live action series based on ‘harry and the hendersons’.... im surprised they could create enough material for one full episode like seriously where do you go from there? its surprisingly hard to think of a story for ‘were a modern 80s family who has bigfoot as a roomate’ an animated series where a basketball player, baseball player, and hockey player are secretly superheroes. there was also a hardcore badass old lady who did most of the work. wayne gretszky was the one nobody respected the pocket dragons had a show. yes, a show based on collectable porcelain figurines that were marketed for their cute value on home shopping network CG series ‘vanpires’, yes it was about sapient cars that were vampires and actual live children who turned into cars that were vampires. that is all oh yeah, there was a back to the future animated series, i thought i repressed that better speaking of repressed memories, i cannot escape the knowledge that ‘super duper sumos’ and ‘mega babies’ existed, booze cannot erase this knowledge

[spicysucculentz]

a list of my favorite drarry fics

1.

this is quite simply my favorite fic of all time it’s written so well and the imagery and symbolism are amazing. i cant express how this fic made me feel i just loved it so much. the author did an amazing job and left me thinking about it for days after i finished it. it was just amazing and the best fic i have EVER read. i highly recommend 1000000/10!

Summary

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

2.

i absolutely LOVE this fic. i love slytherin harry and the dynamic with the other slytherins. and... it’s a slow burn. very slow. but UGH i love it it’s a bit long but soooo worth the read.

Summary

In the summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry is drawn to a room in Grimmauld Place. Like the Gryffindor he is, he enters the room without fear. The room is a library, and Harry is surprised to find that he’s eager to learn.

Then he gets the bad news: he’s been accidentally expelled from Hogwarts, and he needs to be sorted again. Everyone is confident that he’ll go straight back to Gryffindor, but with what he's been learning, Harry’s not so sure.

3.

ok can i just say i that this fic was so gooood. even better than i expected. everything about it is just amazing and spectacular and i love it!!

Summary

Beginning with Draco's unexpected arrival at the Dursleys, Harry's summer after sixth year becomes filled with activity and many secrets. As his summer progresses, Harry generates several unexpected allies as he finds himself actively becoming the leader of the Light side. H/D post-HBP ~~Complete~~

4.

i loved reading this it drew me in and i couldn’t stop reading. it’s a lot different than anything ive read but it was really good. definitely a different cliche than the auror harry x healer malfoy and i loved it. it’s a little bit dark and a little bit spicy it’s amazing.

Summary

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise?

Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost.

But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy's world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself.

What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong?

5.

this fic was rly cute! i enjoyed it a lot. i like soft small business owner harry it’s nice and it’s p light (except of course for the abusive boyfriend but shhh no spoilers)

Summary

Buying the Hog’s Head probably wasn’t the best decision Harry ever made. He can’t cook. He doesn’t understand money. Also, his ex-girlfriend is much better at moving on than he is. His friends are more grown up than he is. His godson thinks he is boring. He feels like he’s letting the whole wizarding world down. And he’s got a damn birthday party to plan.

What better moment for Draco bloody Malfoy to get dumped in the middle of his inn and promptly take up permanent residence in one of the Hog’s Head's guest rooms?

6.

i really liked this fic a lot. i loved the interaction between harry and draco and the others. i liked the idea of harry having two separate lives and i can definitely see it being very plausible. i found the magic with the rings and the house very interesting and i liked it a lot.

Summary

At first Harry wonders if they’ve managed to destroy his vaults and are trying to tell him in the most oblique way possible. But when he turns the page he realises they’ve found a vault. A vault in the name of Lily and James Potter.

The parchment trembles a little in Harry’s hand. He takes another gulp of wine.

Harry Potter left Britain after the war and didn’t look back. Ten years later, when Gringotts discovers a vault containing his parents’ belongings—including their badly spell-damaged wedding rings—he’s forced to face up to friends and family who’ve grown in ways he could never imagine, a wizarding London rebuilt beyond his expectations, and the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. And if that wasn’t enough, there’s the entirely unforeseen problem of Draco Malfoy.

Featuring pureblood wizarding traditions, ancestral magic, open mic nights, marriage equality, a diner in Brooklyn, and the return of Fleamont Potter.

7.

idk why the link is being weird like that and not showing the title but it’s called (You’re a) Revolution and i absolutely love it. i read it a while back and it just made he happy yknow i like it a lot. it’s cute!

Summary

“Will I—Will I see you around?”

Malfoy snorts.

Careful, Potter,” he murmurs, almost to himself, as his fingers linger on the doorknob. “One might think you actually enjoy my presence.”

Eight years after the end of the war, Draco Malfoy stumbles into Harry’s shop in the middle of a storm—no wand, no backstory; no signs of having lived in the country since the Battle of Hogwarts. During their first encounter, Harry promises Malfoy—and the words sound like an old mantra—that he'll figure out Draco's secrets eventually.

And then he does. He does, except…it doesn't quite feel like a victory.

thats all folks! i hope you check out some of these fics they’re all amazing and i love them. make sure to leave kudos and give the authors some love, they deserve it! i would love some fic recommendations if anyone has some good ones then hmu! :)

enjoy!