#i just need to figure out how to *not* constantly cover up the art with all the speech bubbles

[porcelainseashore]

Teenage Headache Dreams (4)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: High School! College! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You’re a bored, but ambitious high school student who can’t wait to escape small town life and make it in the big city. You thought you had it all figured out, until you unwittingly befriend the resident golden boy, Leon. A series of events beginning from junior year to college until Resident Evil 2 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Ambiguous/Open Ending

Content: High School AU, College AU, Pre-Resident Evil 2, Fluff, Romance, Cliche, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Lack of Communication

Author's Note: Things get heated in both senses of the word… I toned it down here, but the final chapter will go further 😉 I have to say this chapter was a bit of an unruly beast, but I hope it worked out in the end. Expect some angst and as usual, fluff.

AO3 Link

Chapter 4: Different Dreams

Since that wintry night in February which left you reeling from having kissed your best friend, you never found the opportunity to speak with him on where you both stood. Things just kept getting in the way: preparing for junior year finals, college admission tests, then summer placements and so on. To be fair, you weren’t exactly keen on confronting the question either, since you still weren’t sure whether you and Leon would be in the same place after graduating from high school. You had long since crossed the river of denial and you liked him a lot, but you were selfish. If you had to choose between a relationship with him and Tisch School of the Arts, the one college you had always dreamed of going to since you were young, you knew you’d pick the latter in a heartbeat. And that fucked you up. You couldn’t help but feel guilty each time he tried to broach the subject of “that night”, and when you brushed him off, he didn’t get upset or push it. He just waited patiently as ever, with a hopeful look in his eyes, that someday you’d be ready to talk. 

Maybe it was just better to remain as friends. That said, you were there for him as one. You supported him, teasing through the countless college possibilities he had swimming around in his mind, after he returned from the school’s career counselor. When the local police force had come round to give one of their recruitment talks, he seemed to have taken an interest in their work. In particular, their speech about directly interacting with and helping civilians in times of need really resonated with him. Although you were wary about cops in general, questioning the punishment system and incidences of police brutality, you encouraged him to follow what felt right to him.

As you sat together with him on his bed, littered with a bunch of police academy brochures that were sprawled across the covers, he went through the reasons that led him to make this choice, and you began to connect the dots. “Remember when you said that I’m a good person?”

“Yeah?” You perked up.

“Well, I just wondered how I could be more of that,” he explained.

Did he feel like he needed to prove himself, just so he could believe in it? You were dying to tell him that he didn’t have to do all of this. That he was perfect the way he was. But sometimes people just needed to go through the motions themselves. This was his journey to make, so you bit back your tongue and listened.

“I want to help regular people, like you and me. Protecting the innocent, changing their lives for the better…” He stared into space for a while before continuing. “And what about all the unsolved cases? Those families deserve closure.”

You realized that closure from the past was something he never had.

“I mean, I just want to make a difference somehow,” he reiterated.

“Hm, that sounds stupid, doesn’t it?” He remarked sheepishly, constantly glancing at you for your opinion.

“No… no, not at all.” You shook your head, reassuring him sincerely. “Well, you know I don’t have the best impression of cops,” you laughed. “But that will change, with you.”

“You think so?” A slight smile formed at the corners of his mouth.

You leaned back against the mattress on your forearms and confirmed. “Hell, Leon. If there’s such a thing as a model police officer, I think you’re gonna be that.”

“There isn’t a single bad bone in your body.” You winked. “Not vouching for the lame ones though.”

“Gee, thanks.” He was blushing now as he twiddled his thumbs.

“I take it that you’re gonna enjoy helping old ladies cross the road?” You couldn’t resist teasing him when he looked like that.

“Sure, you know you can call on me anytime.” He smirked.

You forgot he had a knack for winding you up. “Fuck you, Leon!”

“Oh yeah?” He challenged, although you could tell from his expression that he was only half-kidding.

That stopped you in your tracks, as a mental image of you and Leon in various intimate positions formed in your mind. You swallowed hard, feeling a burning sensation of arousal surging within. Despite that, you shrugged off those thoughts and picked up one of the brochures lying in the pile to distract yourself. “So, you’re gonna visit the open house?”

You heard what sounded like a disheartened sigh before he replied, “Yeah I’d like to.” He turned to face you expectantly. “It’d be nice, if uh, you came along?”

“They’re all pretty nearby,” he added, trying to sweeten the deal. As if you needed convincing.

You rolled your eyes, exclaiming, “Even if it was a gazillion miles away, I’d still be there.”

Echoing his previous sentiment at the time he had supported you at your performance, you mentioned naively, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

When you caught him wincing and tightening up at the word “friends”, you realized the blunder you had made, but it was too late.

He stood up silently and made his way over to his desk, busying himself with a stack of papers.

That hand-wringing sensation of guilt started to swell in your chest again. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Finally, you got up to leave. “Just let me know when, ok?”

He nodded his head in acknowledgement, without turning around to see you off. You walked out of his room with your eyes downcast, trying to console yourself that it was for the best. The police academies he had singled out weren’t even remotely near New York. There was no way it would work out. No way.

━━━━━━━━━━━

You accompanied Leon to the open houses that summer, as he got a good look around the various campuses, asking inquisitive questions and highlighting his athletic achievements, albeit rather humbly. After some nudging from you, he began to mention his academics too. You always held his intelligence in high regard, which you had noticed in class and during your study sessions, that were miraculously still going on despite his earlier reluctance. In your opinion, he would make a great detective, though he had tried to downplay it when you shared it with him.

In any case, you should’ve known that it never ends well when unresolved things are left to fester. So here you were, in your room this time, having the biggest argument you’ve ever encountered with Leon so far.

It all started when you were grabbing something quick from your shelf, before heading out with Leon for a walk along the surrounding forest trails, just so you could make the best use of the remaining summer days. He’d waited around the entrance to your room when something piqued his interest. Walking in, he pointed at a makeshift board lying by your bedside. “Jeez, what’s this? An evidence board or something?”

Whipping your head around, you laughed, “It’s to keep track of all the colleges I’m applying to, dumbass.”

Resting his fingers under his chin, he tilted his head and noted without hiding his disappointment, “They’re kinda far away.” 

“And this one.” He pointed to the red circle in the middle. “That’s your dream school, huh?” At least he remembered. Not like you hadn’t been going on about it for ages.

“Yeah, since I was little.” You nodded, taking a couple of steps closer, till you joined Leon at his side. A moment of doubt set in, as you shrugged and chewed your lip nervously. “I don’t know if I’m good enough.”

“You’re more than good enough,” he stated simply, in a tone deeper than usual. It reverberated across the room as he eyed you intently. 

“I’ve watched you-” He pulled you in close, wrapping an arm around your waist, which elicited a small gasp from your lips. “Perform.” His other hand trailed up to caress your cheek.

“Choreograph,” he continued, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Teach.” He smiled fondly at the memory of picking you up from class one day, as the little ballerinas you taught gathered around your legs quizzing, Miss, is that your boyfriend? 

Meanwhile, it felt like your brain was malfunctioning, as you stood frozen on the spot, losing yourself in the pool of his ocean blue eyes, while he issued you compliment after compliment, finally finishing with, “You’re incredibly talented.”

Stroking his thumb gently over your bottom lip, his gaze followed suit, transfixed by its outline. Checking for any signs of discomfort on your face but finding none, he leaned in, planting his mouth on yours, as an involuntary moan escaped from your throat. No matter how much you tried to fight it, your body would not lie. It craved his touch, and all at once, you threw out the barriers you had placed between yourself and Leon in the past few months.

Sliding your hands up his chest, you parted your lips slightly to allow his tongue to slip inside. The kisses grew hungrier and more urgent as you tasted each other, causing you to stumble backwards onto your bed with him laying on top of you. You were so glad your parents were out, as the door to your bedroom was wide open and both of you weren’t exactly keeping very quiet about things. He peppered kisses along your neck, as his hands roamed across your body. Then his lips traveled downwards to your chest and you tangled your hands tightly in his hair, cursing his name in pleasure under your breath.

There were countless thoughts running through your head, like how fast you and Leon were going, and how badly you wanted him, but something was screaming inside of you about how wrong all of this was. You were just friends, right? You shouldn’t be leading him on like this.

With whatever resolve you had left, you tore yourself away and pushed him off you, stammering, “I’m sorry, I can’t!” You were shaking uncontrollably as Leon regarded you with a mixture of worry and confusion, panting heavily through his swollen, red lips.

“Wha-? Are you ok? Did I hurt you?” The questions came out like rapid fire.

“I-I’m fine.” You looked down in embarrassment as you adjusted your clothes.

“Then, what’s wrong?” His brows were knitted in distress, wondering if he had unknowingly crossed your boundaries.

“I just don’t think this is such a good idea,” you offered hesitantly.

Running his hand through the mess you had made of his silky blonde hair, he sighed, “Why? What about that night?” There it was again.

You bit your lip apprehensively. “We never followed up on that.”

As his face contorted in anguish, you knew that your time of delaying the inevitable had run out, and he wasn’t going to let it go now. “It was like you never wanted me to bring it up.” He began to raise his voice, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I gave you months… Months!”

“It’s… complicated,” you whispered.

“How?” He asked, bristling with irritation.

“Well, for starters, we’re gonna be living miles apart by the time we finish high school.”

“You don’t know that,” he countered, crossing his arms firmly, as if shielding himself from being let down again.

“What do you mean?” You blurted out in bewilderment.

By now, he had gotten up and paced around your room restlessly. “You could… I don’t know, go to one of the bigger cities around here. I heard Chicago’s got a pretty good-”

You felt a flash of annoyance as you cut him off instantly. “You know I’ve wanted to go to Tisch my whole life!”

“I don’t understand you!” He choked, shaking his head furiously. “You’d travel miles with me to the academies, but you can’t even think of doing this long distance?” 

He was grasping at straws to keep you, but you didn’t want to hurt him. You didn’t know if you were right for each other. In your mind, Leon was a bit of a homebody, judging by the college choices he had made. He needed someone who could provide him with stability and the white picket fence American dream. You couldn’t do that. You wanted to travel the world and live out new experiences.

As you hugged yourself wordlessly, unable to look at him, he softened, once again trying to reason things out. “I just thought… we mattered too.”

Your heart broke as he said that. You wanted nothing more than warmth and intimacy with him on this lazy Sunday, cuddling and trading affectionate kisses. But you couldn’t. “You do matter to me, Leon.”

“Then why do you keep pushing me away?” There was no more anger in his voice, only sadness.

He deserved an answer, and you would give him one. You just didn’t expect to be so inept at choosing how to express yourself. “We both have our own dreams,” you tried to explain. “They’ve just turned out to be very different.” 

The next line came out a lot harsher than you intended. “I can’t have someone holding me back. I’m sorry.”

Before regret could even sink in, Leon had started to take his leave, his expression turning colder than ice. “No, I’m sorry for even trying,” he commented bitterly. “I’ll stop wasting your time.”

“Leon!” You called out after him, but he paid no attention and continued to walk off. “It came out wrong,” you pleaded. “That’s not what I meant!”

The last thing you heard was your front door slamming shut.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Over the next weeks when senior year started, you tried to reach out to Leon to no avail. He had become a distant shell of his former self. There was an air of aloofness each time you bumped into each other, as he pretended not to recognize you. All the notes you attempted to pass to him in class ended up crumpled and thrown into the bin without being read. You felt a stab to your gut every single time.

However, you were observant enough to make out the sting of hurt in his eyes when he thought you weren’t looking. You knew he was keeping you at an arm’s length to protect himself, but also partly to give you a taste of your own medicine, just like when you had foolishly dragged things on, hoping they would resolve themself without giving him an answer. Until it was too late. You hated him for being so immature and childish, but you held yourself responsible for starting it first.

Then, the rumors came. You saw him with that girl, Val?, again. They were doing the things you used to do together before the fallout. It made you sick to your stomach, but you said nothing. Maybe you deserved all of this, you thought.

“Lattes after class?” Kayla’s chirpy voice snapped you out of your reverie.

“Hm?” You weren’t really in the mood, but you tried your best to smile through it.

“They brought in the pumpkin spice ones early this season! Can you believe it?” She giggled excitedly, throwing her arm around your shoulder as she proceeded to whisper into your ear, “Come on, you and I need some girl-to-girl talk.”

As you made your way towards the cafe, you caught sight of Leon with his arm around Val on the other side of the street. Kayla wrinkled her nose at them, as she quickened her pace, pulling you along. “Smooth, real smooth, Kennedy,” she muttered under breath.

Whilst it was comforting to know you had someone who supported you through this - something which you didn’t expect, not least from Kayla - you were flung into the center of drama and gossip again. 

Clink. Kayla placed both cups of coffee on the table as she sat down, adjusting her mini skirt before turning to face you attentively. “Spill it.”

You shrugged, glancing around awkwardly.

She tried prompting you at first, “Did he break up with you?” No answer.

“He did something stupid.” No answer.

“Oh my god, he cheated on you, didn’t he?” She accused melodramatically, such that a couple of customers in the cafe glowered over in displeasure at the noise.

You slapped a palm against your forehead and cringed. “Kayla, please.”

“Oops, sorry.”

You sighed, deciding that perhaps it would do some good to open up a little, instead of keeping things to yourself all the time. “It was me. I fucked up, ok?”

“Bullshit,” she scoffed. “It always takes two to tango.” She checked out her manicured nails for a second before continuing, “And even if he was the sweet angel as you claim he is, he sure is fucking it up spectacularly now.”

You raised an eyebrow. Strong choice of words. “Look, we were never really together. I mean, we did some things-” You paused, swallowing anxiously. “-friends don’t usually do.” 

She gave you a knowing smirk, gesturing at you to continue.

“I told him…” At this, your voice cracked, “I didn’t want him, Kayla.” Your mouth quivered, as stray tears welled up in the corners of your eyes.

“Oh, babe,” she cooed. “But you do, don’t you?” She placed her hand over yours understandingly.

You weren’t used to crying, especially not out in the open like this. You pulled away from Kayla, wiping the tears away roughly with the back of your hand, as you straightened up and put on the same facade you always do. “It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s with Val-”

Immediately, Kayla scowled. “That girl has some nerve! I knew it,” she spat. “Always waiting in the sidelines to bag your man.”

“It’s not her fault!” You protested. As far as you were concerned, you and Leon hadn’t made any promises to each other. He was free to go out with whoever he wanted.

Kayla rolled her eyes, “I’m sure she couldn’t wait one hot minute.”

“If that’s the case, then Leon should’ve waited too, right?” You argued. If you had to go along with this warped way of reasoning with her, then so be it. 

“Fair enough,” she conceded, though you could tell that she wasn’t exactly happy about the outcome, and you wanted to put a stop to whatever mean girl prank she had up her sleeve. 

“I’m serious. Don’t,” you warned.

She threw up her hands in mock surrender. “Ok, Miss Party Pooper… I won’t do anything to her. I swear!”

━━━━━━━━━━━

It took you a while to realize what Kayla’s actual plan of action was. In her typical fashion, it was loud, flashy and drew the attention of the whole school. It happened during lunch break in one of the weeks following your girl talk. You had seated yourself with the rest of the cheer team at the cafeteria, when you saw her slam her cutlery down on the table, snarling, “That’s it. I’ve had enough of this shit!”

The rest of the girls including you stared at her in shock, as she stormed up to where the other sports teams usually sat. She made a beeline for the blonde boy whom you’d been moping about for most of the term now, situating herself between him and his latest flame. You couldn’t hear what she was saying, but it made Val scurry off, before she and Leon entered into some sort of shouting match. You only managed to make out bits and pieces of it.

“What the fuck’s your problem?”

“Let me guess, the classy rebound-” Slow clap.

“Stay out of it-”

“You’re the one causing trouble!”

The next minute, she pointed at you, motioning to come over. Leon’s eyes grew dark, giving you a withering glare as you walked towards them with a mix of reluctance and unease. You despised being singled out like this, but you needed to put an end to running away from your problems.

Once you had made your way over, Kayla, who was seemingly pretty satisfied herself, barked out an order, “You two, just sort it out! It’s driving me insane.”

When she left the table and the curious onlookers - which meant literally everyone in the cafeteria - had decided to resume back to whatever they were doing, you uttered the first words to Leon in a long time, “Well, that was awkward.”

“You don’t say.”

“Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t know she would get like that,” you admitted.

He still held his guard up as he regarded you stoically. “So what did you want to talk about?”

You sighed, hoping you would do better this time. But there was just so much to say. Where to start? “I just wanted apologize for what I said that day,” you treaded cautiously. “I miss you, Leon.” You were getting glassy-eyed again, but you braved on. “And I still really care about you.”

His lips were pinched together as he considered your words. He had his reservations, but his hard gaze was slowly faltering. For a while, he didn’t respond. Just as you thought you had overstayed your welcome, he piped up almost inaudibly, “I care, too.”

You nodded in response and took your leave. You knew things would never be the same again, but this was enough for now.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The atmosphere between you and Leon remained tense, but at least it was amicable now. Apparently, Val was out of the picture. Nothing happened, they went on a date or two and Leon called it off. Well, that was what was going through the rumor mill anyway.

Still, it killed you inside, as it felt like you had lost a lover and a best friend. When you received your acceptance letter in December from Tisch, you didn’t even know whether to celebrate or not. Moreover, the one person you would have celebrated with was hardly in your life anymore. Kayla pushed you to tell Leon regardless, and you started to think maybe you had the wrong impression of some of your schoolmates after all. They did seem to look out for you, in their own weird way. It was like reading Pride and Prejudice all over again.

That’s what brought you in front of Leon’s front door, as you rang the doorbell in anticipation. You flinched as the door opened. The corridor was bathed in a warm, golden glow as the light filtered through the doorway, partly blocked by Leon, who peered out at you curiously. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you called out timidly. God, it was like you were strangers again. “Um, can I come in?”

“S-sure.” He held the door open for you, as you took in your surroundings. It had been months since you’d last visited, but nothing much had changed.

“So… what can I do for you?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. You weren’t used to this formal way of addressing each other. It gave you goosebumps.

“I thought it was only right to let you know,” you started. Your hands were trembling as you held out a thick white envelope towards Leon. “I-I got in.”

He took the envelope in his hands, frowning as he opened it. As he glanced over the papers, a spark of recognition shone in his eyes. “Oh! Uh-” He looked like he was at a loss for words as a wave of conflicting emotions washed over him. “Congratulations! I guess.”

“Thanks.” You nipped at your lip lightly, wondering if your next question would be appropriate. “Can I have a hug?”

For a fleeting instant, he looked like a deer in the headlights, but then he got a hold of himself. “Y-yeah.”

It took both of you a good minute to navigate your way into an embrace, so much so you nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. But once you were in each other’s arms, you relaxed, breathing in his familiar scent that you grew to love. “I missed this,” he sighed blissfully into your hair. You deepened the embrace, pulling him closer to you.

“I guess I should also tell you…” He pressed his lips to the side of your forehead as he spoke, “I’m heading to the police academy in Springfield.”

Your heart leapt out of joy and ached with melancholy at the same time. “That’s fantastic! I’m so proud of you, Leon.”

“Mm, you always know how to make me feel…” his words faded off as he broke away from your arms, but held your gaze, as if asking, “What now?”

Maybe this was your chance for the heart-to-heart that was long overdue. And you grabbed it with both hands.

“I was scared,” you started. “I didn’t know how it could work out with the distance, maybe even performing internationally…” After a brief pause, you revealed, “I thought you wanted the suburban dream.”

“When did I ever say that?” He blurted out, with a look of shock plastered across his face.

You flinched, realizing that he had a point. He never mentioned wanting that. These doubts you had appeared to stem from your own fears projected onto him. “I-I thought…” You trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

“You could’ve asked me,” he replied, seemingly perturbed from the misunderstanding that occurred between the two of you. “I really wished we talked about this.”

Your eyes dropped to the ground, as you felt a heavy weight in your chest. “I’m sorry, I just assumed it was the case.” At this, he grasped his forehead in his hands and sighed wearily.

This was all so stupid. But you needed to tell him exactly how you felt about him, especially after this wake-up call. “Leon, hear me out, please? When I lost you, I realized I was so caught up with running as far away as I could from this place, that I didn’t see how important being with you was to me.”

You forced down a lump in your throat as you continued, “You never held me back, I was wrong to say that.”

“I want you,” you confessed. “Always have.”

You felt completely exposed, as if every part of you was laid bare and open to scrutiny. “I just had to let you know, even if you don’t feel the same way about me anymore.”

As you folded your arms to brace yourself for what would come next, Leon reached out and caressed your hair comfortingly. “I-” he paused. “If this is about Val, I’m sorry I did that,” he apologized. “I was hurt, and it wasn’t fair to either of you.”

Placing his fingers under your chin, he lifted it to bring you within eye contact. “However, I need you to stop guessing what you think I might want,” he stated firmly. “I can make my own decisions, ok?”

As you nodded in agreement, his gaze softened, and he took you within his arms again, cradling your head against his chest. “And… you haven’t lost me, but I need some time.” He sighed. “This was all just-”

At that moment, you were interrupted by his mom, who’d made her way in from the living room. “Gosh, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You and Leon let go of each other self-consciously, as she spontaneously invited you to dinner with the family that evening, which had just been freshly cooked and served out on the dining table. As you shared in the laughter and light-hearted conversations together, you couldn’t help but feel a sliver of hope about your future with the boy sitting beside you.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Prom night was coming up. At least that was what Kayla kept reminding you. You still had a few months to prepare, but for her it was the most important social event of high school. No one had asked you out yet, and Kayla felt that wouldn’t do. Secretly, you wished Leon would have made a move by now, but maybe things were still too raw.

As you emptied out your locker, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Spinning around, you brushed up against one of the footballers you had hardly spoken with during your school years. He must have noticed the bemusement on your face, as he spoke first, “Wanna go to the prom with me?”

From afar, you heard a distant giggle and narrowed your eyes at the source. Kayla’s sly grin gave it away. She set the whole thing up. Why?

You glanced between her and the beefy guy in front of you. Clearly not your type. At all. “Uh…” you tried to stall, wondering how you were going to maneuver your way out of this situation.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the side, snaking an arm around your waist, causing you to yelp in surprise. “She’s coming with me.” You’d recognize that voice anywhere.

Hm, this was getting interesting. Talk about Mr Knight in Shining Armor to the rescue.

Leon turned to face you. “Am I right?”

“Y-yeah, I’d like-,” you paused to recollect yourself. “I’m going with you,” you confirmed with a hint of shyness.

The footballer backed off, raising his hands in the air as he excused himself clumsily. “Sorry man, my bad. I didn’t know she was taken.” Leon was giving him the stink eye all the way through.

“You trying to make me jealous, baby?”

Baby? You gulped. What the hell has gotten into him? You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. But his arm was still resting on your waist with no intention of letting go anytime soon.

You saw Kayla shrug and dust her hands, before sashaying away. You had to hand it to her though. Fucking mastermind genius.

“Well, you never asked.”

“I did now,” he retorted smugly.

Ok, so you were back to bantering. Guess you could deal. But it still didn’t answer the question on where you stood with him. Had he finalized his thoughts since that talk you had?

“Leon,” you sighed. “Is this your way of saying you’d like to make things official?”

“Sorry about that. I was kinda put on the spot,” he admitted bashfully, as if he had been caught doing something wrong and now had a tail between his legs. 

“But yeah, I want to,” he professed. “Do you?” He stared at you, swallowing nervously. “I mean, would you like to be my, uh- girlfriend?”

You gave him a coy smile, copying one of his previous lines in response. “Sure, I suck at it. So why not?”

“Never know till you try.” He beamed in return, unable to conceal the sheer look of happiness on his face any longer. “Guess we can figure out the rest along the way.”

“Uh huh.” You glanced around, all of a sudden painfully aware that you both were having this conversation in full public view. Although the other students were pretending not to pay attention, you knew they had seen and overheard everything. 

A hot flush rose to your face. It didn’t seem to deter Leon as he tugged you closer with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. You had an inkling of what was about to unfold, but you chose to embrace it.

“Let’s give them a show, shall we?” He smirked, and with that, his lips collided into yours, as you made out against the lockers, oblivious to the world around you.

[lizziespoem]

intimacy of being understood | nanamin ͏⸺ one shot

͏⸺ the intimacy of being understood, untouchable, unique and barely to understand, an hidden act of art reshaped to a favor of the gods, to crawl under the skin that is covering the depths of our hearts, we know so many things, yet we never understand ourselves, and to able to push the skin aside was so simple, yet so magnificent. Perhaps we craved more to be understood rather than being loved, to understand the vulnerability behind every confession, the growth of every movement, the association of connection and progress and the acknowledgment of existing.

and besides all your knowledge, philosophy and intelligence, you never figured out the act of being yourself, you didn't understand how you worked, why you acted like you did and why the thoughts were circling through your pretty head, but nanami did.

the way your fingertips carefully pulled on the simple bracelet around your wrist, the way you constantly yawed to get more oxygen into your lungs, the way you got quieter and your lips got tired of wearing your beautiful smile, the way your eyes followed every single movement to overanalyse every interaction and the way your cheeks blushed as you took small sips of your drink.

"mind if I steal my gorgeous woman for a moment?" Nanami interjected into the conversation of you and some other college’s with one of his charming smiles on his lips, as his he carefully placed his left hand onto your lower back, creasing the silky material of your elegant dress.

No one could ever refuse anything to nanami when he got that innocent charming smile on his lips, the kind of smile that holded his soul, the kind of smile that just needed three seconds to relieve the cruelty of the world and even if the light faded, his smile stayed.

"am I that transparent for you?" you whispered softly with an innocent smile on your lips while Nanami's hand stroked over your coccyx as he guided you outside, between the chatting people, out of the crowed room filled with stuffy air and the smell of alcohol. The other hand of Nanami rubbed over the little beard stubble, which his razor hadn’t caught and the charming grin didn’t faded as his eyes looked down to study you for a brief moment as he speaks up "you don’t need to tell me how you feel. I can see it for miles"

The loudness muffled after Nanami cautiously closed the glass patio door behind the two of you.

"I know it’s difficult for you when all these greedy looks are on you" the tall blonde man said as he watched you leaning your body slightly over the railing, admiring the landscapes and enjoying the calmness, away from all the people, letting yourself feel the comfort you needed.

Nanamin always rejected to be understood and being loved, yet he couldn’t help but fall the crucifixion of being loved by you, the torments of his mental awareness to differentiate the deed of the gods or the practical joke of the mischief devil, since you were everything he had ever prayed for, too good to be a gift of the gods and too innocent to be a sin of the devil. But if I’m between the spectacle of the world and the ever-changing state of things and the inherent fiction of everything, of the false importance exhibited by all realities, he always pleaded to wait to find you, in every myth and fiction, he dreamed among shadows and ruins, crawled through the coldest emptiness till the fullest ecstasy, just to find you.

You were terribly afraid of being known, yet desperate to be understood and Nanami was willing to learn every aspect about you.

"I know it's loud up here and way too bright for you" he mumbled against your scalp before he placed a gently kiss on top of your head, before he leans with his back against the railing studying the way the cold air blushes your cheeks and the dimmed light complimented your eyes.

Almost as if there was hiding a hint of absurdity, the tall man lost himself, forgetting who he was in this blurry reality while the intensity of sensation stunned his senses and all that was clear to him was you, the smudged dark eyeliner and rare blush on your cheeks, the fresh manicure and the elegant ring around your finger he had gifted to you as a promise, the messy hair and the little strands, which float around your face in the light wind. If you were a sin developed by the hands of the devil, Nanami would have fall on his knees and would make any agreement with the underworld, he didn't cared about how many love letters he must write for you, if he had to learn to play guitar to impress you, if he would have to read to you every night or if he had to work for the devil himself, he would do anything for you.

“sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself” a soft chuckle left your mouth, looking up through your dark lashes as your hands clenched around the cold railing and Nanami would've lied if he would denied the emotional chaos you caused inside of him as you looked at him with those eyes.

Obsessively, incessantly, perpetual and with maddering hunger he longed for your heart, manuscripts written down by his dreams about every movement you made to avoid his suffocation otherwise he would never stop talking about you, insane enough to believe it wasn´t enough to see you every moment with his clear consciousness, willing to never sleep again just so he wouldn't lose you from his sight. Nanami was never afraid of heights, yet this love seems so deep that he was afraid to fall, because you gave him something he can miss and now he knows forever what he'll miss when you leave.

A charming grin lifted the corners of his mouth as his thumb brushed over your little wrinkles around your lips “yet I don't know enough of you”

"You don't?" you mocked him jokingly, causing one of you dangerously gorgeous smiles lighting up your face, fading away these obstinate musical tones banging on the glass door as the tall blonde man nodded pensively and stroked with his thumb over your soft glossy lips, smudging a bit the lip gloss from your lips “You're full of passions and talent, yet to blind to see it in yourself, you hide so many beautiful words under your tongue, still you apologize for speaking at all and somewhere in your life someone broke your heart so deeply, that you're afraid of loving yourself, but even if I know a hundred versions of you, there are at least a thousand left to love”

The wrinkles around the corner of your lips illuminate as you placed a gentle kiss on the fingertip of his thumb before he raised his voice calmly again “You know which version I like the most till now is the one that still dances even when the song is long over and the one who, when the world is gray again, paints everything in color again with a brush, who never leaves, even when we argue”

“maybe, there is a version you won't love” you whispered while you looked through your lashes into his eyes and a raucous laugh escaped his mouth as he shook his head “it's so exaggeratedly easy to love you”

And there it was, a kiss so delicate yet vulnerable, godly with closed eyes, helplessly almost like a miserable misery, yet you both had become ravenously hungry for the taste of each other that you weren’t afraid to get burned, two mouths melted into each other, not afraid to swallow the poison of the devil.

© 2023 LIZZIESPOEM. please do not copy any of my writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[a-998h]

Heyyy I’m here to bother youuuuuuh😊

Anyway, I don’t know if you’ve seen the ask yet about certain characters ages and {Reader} calling them old and stuff, but if you do that request I would like to add smth and reacting to their ages, I would recommend reading that one first then this one

Basically when the readers like “You’re still gon’ be here even when I die” and then they just smile and joke about it- just go check out the request I sent lol-

But what if {Reader} figured out some of the characters were ‘puppets’ and they were like “Why are you being a coward? Just show your true self!”

Because wanderer is like a puppet right? But I don’t know if it’s the same situation as EI

Also another scenario where some of the characters try to pick up {Reader} and they just can’t (magic mfs)

But reader can easily like lift up ZHONGLI- Or maybe to some sassy characters liek Wanderer(if he’s sassy idk) or like Tighnari (same goes for him, idrk)

And another thing, {Reader} would ABSOLUTELY judge the crap outta some all the characters clothing choices- especially the ones that fight

So they’ll like go up to Itto and be like “Where’s the rest of your shirt?” And if he says something egotistical/ or compliments himself (If that’s what his character is even like💀 If not just choose another character I guess) and {Reader} would respond with “Yeah well you ego seems way bigger than your build”

Or for like EI they would be like “Why doesn’t the kimono cover the some of your chest?” Or for Xiao they would be like “Do you even have a shirt on or is it see through-“ and for Zhongli it would be “How can you even fight in a suit? It looks so tight and uncomfortable, and what’s the point of the bottom part of your suit being shredded? (The part where his suit splits into parts at the end) and basically every other character who fights yet their outfits are completely unpractical

And {Reader} wears like very baggy clothing and Japanese sandals

And also how they fight is instead of using powers- they just hella skilled with like martial arts, like they’ll just swipe some characters off their feet, and like elbow some in the stomach😭 and like instead of teleporting they’re just so fast and they jump off trees like a crazy lil shit-

And this is also really random, but imagine the characters are playing hide-n-seek with {Reader} and no one could find them until EI looks up and SOMEHOW {READER} MANAGED TO CLING TO THE CEILING (IN LIKE A SPIDERMAN POSITION TOO-) AND THEYRE JUST LIKE- “You guys suck at Hide-n-seek”

Anyway if you could combine this request with the other one where it talks more about certain characters ages and like how reader reacted to it and stuff, taht would be greatttttt🙃🙃🙃

Hope you have a good dayyyy!

-🍉Anon

okay let's break this down. 🍉 Anon, I love your enthusiasm but please calm down a bit, one idea at a time.

You become a fashion critic to them. I love the character designs but jesus christ , some of them are so impractical. You offer them advice on how to make their outfits more practical and whether or not they listen to you is not your problem. Your constantly begging Itto to put on a shirt. You're just confused by the whole boob sword open chest kimono thing with Ei.

They're all very proud of your skills. And while some think someone your age shouldn't need to learn this. They accept it and deal with it in their own way. Some are absolutely terrified of you. Some just think you need training and others genuinely question how you got this strong.

Ei would try and dismiss your concerns over her "true self". As time goes on if she ever decides to leave the plane of Euthymia one of the first things she'll do is look for you. Wanderer will scoff and tell you this is his true self. Then you would probably throw a few jokes. His way and your petty fighting will start all over again.

Zhongli and Tighnari are impressed by the fact that you managed to left them while no one could lift you. When lifting Wanderer... You essentially become his personal carry person until someone scolds him and takes him away from you.

In hide-and-seek no matter who you're playing with. Everyone gets really nervous when they can't find you. They check in all the typical spots. And then they find you up a tree or something. Some of the characters freak out because my precious baby is in a tree and others. Just questioned how you got up there in the first.

[whxre-bxby]

Mansk(recom) Characterisation

I have Mansk brainrot <3 here's my interpretation of him and some random things I want to point out. Some of it is canon :)

I will totally be adding more things to this as time goes by.

(This is a clusterfuck of thoughts, no order sorry. It's a mess. This has absolutely no structure)

HE IS NOT NEARLY APPRECIATED ENOUGH AS HE SHOULD BE

Masterlist

MANSK HAS AN AMERICAN EAGLE TATTOO ACROSS HIS CHEST (I think that's what it is, I'll make a separate post about it with sketches)

Just like the eagle Quaritch has except its wings are spread above his (massive, sexy) pecs.

(I saw some art and maybe it's not an eagle but a three headed angel of death)💀

Here is a random picture I found of the back of Mansk's head. <3

love him sm

The look of DISGUST he has when handling Tsireya (gorgeous queen).

(ew it's wet, quickly tie it down)

She's wet from the ocean and his hands must have gotten wet and he's all grossed out from the 'fish-lipped alien' and has to touch it.

Deffo thoroughly wanted to wash and disinfect his hands after.

The man HATES nature. I mean he despises it, on Earth too (whatever was left of it). That's why he is wearing the opposite of Walker's outfits. He's covered, head to toe. Expect for, well head. But everything else can't come in direct contact with nature on Pandora because to him it's scary and gross.

He hates native Na'vi too but once he becomes a recom, it dies down a little. Now, his hate for them is divided between blue forest Na'vi and the water Na'vi.

He still thinks of himself as human rather than Na'vi. I'm saying, when the man woke up from recom, he needed to be alone for the rest of the day while the others were discussing the mission. He just left the room and locked himself in his room, sitting in silence. He didn't want to look at himself in the mirror because it was too much. He just died and now he was back in the form of his enemy. The enemy terrified him because that's how he died in the first place.

While Lyle's first thought would be to pull down his pants and check out (yk) , Mansk would refuse to remove his clothes because he was worried he would lose it if he genuinely saw himself properly for the first time. I'm saying if the man saw all of himself in the first few days he would be so lost in himself and overwhelmed he would break down and cry. He seems like this intimidating tall man who has it all figured out but I'm telling you HE IS A SENSITIVE SOFTIE AND TAKES EVERYTHING TO HEART. He would avoid reflections, keep his head down and prefer not to directly look at his teammates because they were blue too. (Blue Na'vi racist kinda, but with PTSD)

He is quiet. Not shy quiet, just observing quiet. When he does speak he uses the least amount of words to express himself. Mansk is clever and when he says things they have been thought through by him. He never speaks before thinking. He's confident but doesn't express it. Basically the opposite of Lyle.

He likes wearing his shades because 1. they look dope 2. he isn't happy about being in a Na'vi body so he wants to seem as human as possible. Adding to that, his tail freaks him out. He wishes it weren't there. Sometimes he forgets it's a part of him now and it scares the shit out of him. His new body has him feeling really down because he knows that he can never return to Earth like this.

Grillmaster 100% without a doubt. I love that this fandom just decided that. It fits so well. Can't cook things like pasta or make soup. He can grill and fry shit. That's his thing. For properly baking something he will need luck on his side but it might work.

Another random thing. This man NEVER gets sick. I'm saying he's immune to it all. You're sick? Have the flu? Covid? It never gets him. He's safe with the immune system of a god.

He gets a sore jaw from constantly biting down and clenching it due to stress (just like me fr fr)

Adding to that, he almost always looks like he is in deep thought. He looks almost scary because he seems so intimidating. It's rare when he smiles.

THAT'S WHY THIS PICTURE IS SO PRECIOUS.

(Quoting Taylor Swift: Yeah, you got a smile that can light up this whole town) :0

YOU PRECIOUS MF COME HERE AND GET SOME LOVE! ISTG SO FUCKN CUTE I WANNA EHUEIJDNJKE AHHHHHH

He is the type of person that lays in bed for hours before falling asleep. Maybe because of some fucked up shit he has seen that stays in his head. He also refused to sleep on his back in his new body because of his tail and braid.

If there would be a skiing holiday, THIS MAN SNOWBOARDS. Quaritch would be the dad with skis and a large backpack.

He is super precious and soft. Will never want any of his teammate to know but if he finds someone he likes, he will be silently obsessed. Not in a creepy way, but he can't stop thinking about them. He doesn't fall for people easily but when he does HE FALLS HARD.

Mansk is self conscious so if he likes someone he will never act on it and never tell anyone. At night when he is alone, he would be going over all the reasons of why it wouldn't work out and why his crush doesn't like him or can't like him.

All he wants is to be cuddled, taken care of and kissed to sleep. Honestly, that's it. He wants to give everything he can to the person he cares about but will need constant reminders that they actually like him back and that he isn't just imagining it. If the person is gone for a few days, his bad thoughts will return and when they come back he will be distant and ask things like 'Sorry, I'm bothering you aren't I? You probably have lots to do.'

TO WHICH YOU HAVE TO TACKLE HIM INTO BED, WRAP HIM IN A BLANKET LIKE A BURRITO AND CUDDLE AND KISS HIM ISTG HE NEEDS LOVE BECAUSE HE HAS BEEN DEPRIVED OF IT HIS ENTIRE LIFE.

Leading to his fam, he joined the military because his dad did and so did his grandpa etc. It's a bloodline thing and because of that, he's never been loved properly and always treated as a soldier in making. He needs to be drowned in love.

SUPER NERVOUS around his crush. Sweating palms, stuttering, all that shit. He's down bad.

Here is him freaking out that they are under attack and yelling "NA'VI" in his super masculine deep ass husky voice✨️

More...

gorgeous fuckin precious bean

- if ANYONE compliments ANYTHING on him he will never forget it and always think back to that moment

Example : "Hey Mansk, nice shoes/shirt/shades/tattoo's"

"Thanks." Is all he says but HIS HAPPINESS IS GOING THROUGH THE ROOF AND WHEN U GO AWAY HE WILL TURN AWAY FROM OTHERS BECAUSE HE CAN'T SUPPRESS HIS SMILE ANYMORE.

NSFW: if the person he likes is wearing an apron with barely anything on or nothing underneath = huge turn on, instant boner, Mansk will become putty in your hands

random: (lyle listens to taylor swift (shake it off while working out))

have a nice day :)

Tag list:

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

[thekinkyleopard]

A Rough Night

A Sven & Elex Snz Drabble

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Allergens, Snz, Violence, Cursing

Description: The boys try to escape the stress by heading out to the bar. Yet, it doesn’t go well when a nearby patron triggers the badger’s sensitive allergies!

Author’s Notes: Oh….Hey guys 😅 I’ve had this one sitting for about a month and haven’t had the will to write because well….my life has been insane while going through this divorce, moving, meeting someone new and trying to figure my shit out. 😭 Found myself with the slight will to live tonight, so I finished this idea up! Theres no smut, I KNOW IM SORRY….but I had a lot of fun writing this out. Hope you all enjoy and I’m sorry I’m constantly coming and going. Been a rough year. I love yall who still interact and wait patiently for my next release. You real ones 🥺💚 @aller-geez Owns Sven and did the cover art!

Elex and Sven pushed open the heavy wooden doors, the sounds of raucous laughter and clinking glasses assaulted their ears. The dimly lit bar was filled with a thick haze of smoke, making it difficult to see through the throngs of people milling about. Elex, with his dull green hair, felt like an alien in this dingy establishment. He wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming stench of stale beer and sweat that hung heavily in the air. "Ugh, this place fuckin’ stinks," he grumbled, his mismatched eyes scanning the crowd, disgusted at the faces that lingered upon them. His annoyance at having to be there was palpable while they stood just inside the entrance.

“Don’t be such a sour puss, Els, I need this night out, and I need a couple drinks to unwind, we’ve been cooped up in the house for WEEKS,” the Cheshire pouted, sticking his tongue out playfully at his somewhat grumpy boyfriend. In response, Elex rolled his eyes in a mixture of annoyance and resignation.

“We’re here aren’t we? Stop your bitchin’ lets go get drunk,” reaching out to grip his boyfriend by the wrist, knowing the hand would be too intimate in such a public setting. Sven was used to this behavior by now and didn’t care, so long as he got to do what they came there to do. Get ripped, yap, maybe snack on some peanuts, and go back home. An adult version of touching some grass. They each walked up to the bar and slid into the empty barstools provided, next to an older gentleman on one side, and a younger on the other. Elex scowled unpleasantly from a side view glance as he slipped into his seat. “Whiskey on the rocks,” the badger ordered off his drink of choice for the night. “Same thing,” Sven chirped with a quick raise of his index before swinging his body slightly over to face more in the other’s direction. “So, tomorrow, I’m thinking about upgrading our internet services, shit is too fuckin’ slow to achieve the game play and stream from what we have currently…it’s fuckin’ up my views,” he pushed back a few strands of stray teal hair that dangled just above his orange gaze. As the bartender slid them their drinks, Elex nodded toward the man before returning his attention to 7. “Yeah okay, well how much extra is that gonna run us do you know? We have some wiggle room but not if the bill goes from $50 to $200….I don’t know….” feeling rather skeptical of all the ways Sven’s streaming has sort of cost them between his personal build, games, internet, and other equipment. He was glad his boyfriend had something he enjoyed doing, and was even able to make a good profit off it, but it felt like everyday he was buying some high tech keyboard, or upping their bills which made it feel like they weren’t really progressing financially. It was starting to stress the badger out, he hadn’t been getting any marks lately since the police were on high alert. Some seasons were just better than others so he had been relying on selling copper, but he was running low on spots to harvest from. It was a miracle they were even making ends meet.

Sven lifted the glass to his lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip of his alcoholic beverage. His body language exuded nonchalance, as if their conversation was about something insignificant and unimportant, he shrugged. Elex could see the indifference in Sven's eyes and it only fueled his own anger. He could feel the heat rising in his chest as he tried to keep his emotions in check. The clinking of ice cubes echoed in the background, a stark contrast to the tension between the two men. “Just a shrug? Seriously? Sven you know we’ve been relying on MY shit to keep us afloat, your fuckin’ video games aren’t paying bills,” his voice cut through like a sharp knife through the chest. “They’re not? Then how did we get $200 worth of groceries yesterday?” With an intense narrowing of his vibrant orange eyes, he directed a heated glare towards his boyfriend. The thoughtless disregard for his feelings left him stunned and incredulous. He internally scoffed, his ‘fucking video games’….as if streaming wasn’t a real line of work. “You’re about to really piss me off….Yes that is useful but our MORTGAGE, and the PG&E, and you know, CAR payments….shit is adding up and every fuckin’ week there’s something new added to the list of your god damn bullshit…I support you wanting to chase a passion but not when it’s effecting the life we have worked so hard to build,” Elex quickly downed the remainder of his drink, wishing for a slight buzz to ease the hopelessness he felt in this conversation.

“Look, I get it, but it fuckin’ takes money to make it so, MAYBE, get off my ass a little bit…can we talk about this later? When we ARENT trying to just enjoy the evening?” With an exasperated shake of his head and a dismissive roll of his eyes, Sven reached out for his glass, the ice cubes clinking against the sides as he lifted it to his lips. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Els knocked on the wooden bar with his knuckles, signaling to the busy bartender for another drink. The sound of glasses clinking and people talking filled the air of the crowded bar, but Elex was lost in his own thoughts as he waited for his order to be fulfilled. Finally, the bartender caught his signal and obliged, sliding a fresh glass towards him with practiced ease.

“Fine but you’re not go-…n..H’…Hih…” he struggled suddenly, noticeably, his mouth started to jar open and it hit him unexpectedly. The older man next to him, had taken off his jacket, wafting a gust of fragrant air directly within Elex’s personal space. “Son of a -…H’UhtTSCHhiew! h’Ushh’iew! etUSCHOOOO!” a sudden series of sneezes escaped his body, his eyes watering, nose and throat suddenly itchier than they’d been in a long time. Was that Gain? Tide pods? He didn’t know, all he knew was the asshole beside him was sending him into a full tizzy. He sniffled gently trying to hide the fact he was slowly turning into a leaking mess, grabbing a bar napkin to wipe his nose carefully. “Shit, you good Els?” Sven reached out to comfort his boyfriend, a flattened palm against his back. The heated urgency of their conversation suddenly melting away when he realized the storm had hit his lover. “Y-Yeah I’m F-…hh’IEXsHHH! H’UMFShhhhiew! h’USSHH!!” it came out full force, he did what he could to capture them within the confines of the napkin he clutched within his palm. Just great, just what he needed on a night out to relax, typical. “Bless you, El…” Sven getting slightly worried they may actually have to just head back home, maybe pick up some drinks from the gas station instead, despite how badly Sven needed a change of pace. “We can head home if you wa-….” “No, we’re nod leabing….SndFff,” he snuffled loudly, trying to snort up any of the excessive leakage that threatened to pour down his face. This was the absolute worst. Curse him and his rat ass allergies. He hucked and hacked, his mouth jarring open and closed as he fought against the allergens making a nest within his sinuses. The bartender slid them their second drinks, taking longer as the bar filled up with more and more patrons. A few people turning to glance with an aura of judgement, but the badger glared daggers and they quickly turned away. “Nosey fuckin-….Hh’uhSSCCHHHHwww! ehh’TSHIEW! hh’IEXSH!!” this time the green haired man blew within the crook of his arm, wetting the spot of skin there with a plume of saliva. “Gross….” he groaned weakly, irritated he didn’t have a whole lot of room to release. “Babe seriously we can just….” suddenly cut off by a lifted brown speckled palm. “Stop, jusd dring your fuggin shid, SNDfF,” He let out a loud, wet snort and reached for the small package of tissues inside the pocket of his jeans. His nose was red and moist from the constant blows as he battled with the scent that still lingered around him. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his congested sinuses but only felt the sharp sting of pain in his nostrils.

“Hey, guy, can you fuckin’ not? You’re grossing us all out,” A random person from across the way chimed in with a snarky remark. The badger slowly turned his head, almost like something out of a horror movie, and locked eyes with the person before responding without hesitation.

“Cope, fugg fade,” retorting so quickly it took the man almost by surprise, blinking a few times to make sure he had heard the badger correctly. “What was that, bro?” he challenged, finishing his beer and slamming the empty glass bottle down on the wooden bar. Elex scoffed, sniffling a bit to try and prepare himself for another response. “Cope. Fugg. Fade.” he said it slowly, emphasizing each word though sounding less intimidating with a stuffed up nose. It didn’t stop him as he stared the patron down with watery daggers. The whites of his eyes had already started to redden.

The tension in the bar thickened as the confrontation escalated. Elex could feel a wave of exhaustion wash over him, fatigue setting into his bones from both the argument with Sven and the relentless assault on his senses brought on by his sudden allergies. He longed for nothing more than to escape this suffocating atmosphere, to retreat to the familiarity of his own space where he could gather his thoughts in peace.

Sven, sensing the volatile energy crackling around them, placed a steadying hand on Elex's shoulder. Despite their disagreement, he knew that Elex needed support now more than ever. “Let’s get out of here,” Sven spoke softly, his voice cutting through the ambient noise of the bar.

With a swift motion, the badger slid his shoulder out from under the cat’s palm, Sven’s arm falling back down to his side. ‘Shit…’ The Cheshire cursed from within. The bomb had been set off and it was only a matter of time before his boyfriend started swinging.

“Oh, so we’re going to have a problem then?” the man stood up straighter, walking over and standing within a few inches of the green haired ticking time bomb. Elex snickered with a cocky resolve, standing up himself and meeting the other man eye to eye.

“Loogs, do me, you’re the only one with the problem here, fugg nugged,” his lips pulled up to reveal a strikingly white pair of sharpened teeth that complemented the long fangs that always stuck out past his lips. “Wanna dance?” it actually felt relieving to take a stand at this point, giving him a bit of, slightly fresher air to escape the scent of the old man’s detergent that lingered on his clothing.

In that charged moment, the bar seemed to hold its breath, everyone's attention drawn to the brewing confrontation between Elex and the stranger. The man's eyes flashed with anger as he clenched his fists, ready to take things to the next level. However, just before anyone could throw a hit, the badger’s sinuses betrayed him into another set of expressive blows. “Ehh’tshhhhiew!!" h’USHh’iEW!” without time to cover himself, the badger openly, and almost proudly, sneezed a cloud of spittle and spray across the other man’s face.

“What the FUCK!?” the guy exclaimed with rage, getting ready to charge up his fist and bring it across the space to Elex’s jaw, but missed as the badger took a quick side step to avoid him. All the while blotting, and dabbing at his insanely runny nose that threatened to drip down his lips and chin. Elex chuckled, wiping his face clean with the last tissue in his package.

“Oh goody, my turn,” he smirked as he tossed the crumpled tissue aside and lunged forward with surprising agility, socking the man square in the nose a loud crack echoing the space between them all. The bar erupted into chaos as the two men grappled, fists flying and bodies colliding in a whirlwind of aggression. Sven watched in shock, torn between wanting to intervene and knowing that Elex needed to work through his frustrations on his own terms.

Amidst the chaos, a burly bouncer seemed to materialize, his massive form cutting through the crowd like a battleship in a stormy sea. With a swift motion, he hoisted both Elex and the stranger apart, their struggles becoming feeble against the bouncer's iron grip.

"Alright, that's enough out of both of you!" the bouncer boomed, his voice commanding attention from every corner of the bar. Elex panted, his chest heaving as he shot a defiant glare at the man who had provoked him.

Sven rushed forward, placing himself between Elex and the stranger. "Sven...get the fuck out of the way," the man growled, his voice thick with anger as he tried to maneuver around Sven to get to the bleeding patron. But the bouncer held him back with a firm grip, his massive arms like steel beams that refused to budge.

"Elex, enough!" Sven's voice was urgent, pleading as he turned to the badger. "Let's go. Now." having to be the only voice of reason to which the heated badger would obey. Sliding two twenties onto the bar before working to rush his heated lover out of the bar.

Elex stood there, breathing heavily as he eyed the stranger who was still struggling against the bouncer's hold. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to make another move, but then he relented with a frustrated huff.

"Fine," Elex finally replied, brushing past Sven and making his way towards the exit of the bar. Sven followed closely behind, shooting a quick apologetic glance at the stranger before hurrying after his boyfriend.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Elex took a deep breath and leaned against the brick wall of the establishment, the icy night air hitting his weakened lungs he started to realize just how bad of shape he was in from the allergy attack, now that the adrenaline was wavering. He gasped as he worked to regulate himself.

Sven stood beside him, his gaze filled with concern as he watched Elex's labored breathing. Without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small inhaler, offering it to the badger.

"Here, use this," Sven spoke softly, his voice laced with worry. Elex hesitated for a moment before taking the inhaler and pressing it to his lips, inhaling deeply as the soothing medication traveled through his lungs. The tightness in his chest began to ease, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him.

"Thanks," Elex murmured, handing the inhaler back to Sven. The cat nodded, tucking it back into his pocket before turning his attention back to the badger.

"Are you okay?" Sven asked, his eyes searching Elex's for any sign of distress. The green haired man gave him a small nod, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah, I'm okay…feel actually a whole lot better now that I’m not suffocating under the scent of that guy’s clothes…snDfff…” he sniffled roughly, trying to break through the stuffed bridge of his nose. Despite the scuffle, the badger barely walked out with a scratch, but the same couldn’t be said for the other man.

“What am I going to do with you? Seriously, you’re lucky if he doesn’t charge you with assault! Dumbass!” scolding his boyfriend for the way he had unleashed his pent up rage upon the stranger.

“Hey, he swung first,” shrugging his shoulders before pulling a pack of cigarettes out from his pocket. Sven sighed in exasperation, watching as Elex flicked a cigarette out of the pack and lit it up with a practiced hand. He knew it was pointless to argue with the stubborn badger when he was in this mood, so he simply stood there in silence, the cool night air weaving around them like a comforting blanket.

As Elex took a drag from his cigarette, he exhaled a cloud of smoke that mingled with the night, disappearing into the darkness above. The tension that had gripped him earlier seemed to dissipate with each puff, the adrenaline from the fight slowly ebbing away.

After a moment of quiet contemplation, Sven finally spoke. "We should probably get out of here before the bouncer comes out and starts asking for names," he suggested, his voice calm but firm. Elex glanced over at him, taking in the concern etched on his features.

"Yeah, you're right," Elex replied, crushing the stub of his cigarette under his boot. With a final release of smoke from between his lips he lazily slung an arm around the cat’s waist. Unusual for the badger to display such affections, the cat narrowed his eyebrows and looked his lover up and down.

“You good?” The Cheshire asked cautiously, but leaning into the intimacy.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Elex responded with a soft smile, his usual tough exterior cracking to reveal a vulnerable side that only Sven seemed to elicit. The cat returned the smile, his worries easing as he felt the warmth of Elex’s touch against his side.

Together, they walked into the night, the street lamps casting a soft glow over their figures as they navigated the emptying streets. The events of the evening lingered in the air between them, but there was also an unspoken understanding that they would face whatever came their way together. Even if it meant being broke for a while to make sure Sven could set up his dream. Suddenly, those problems seemed less worrying after Elex was able to let off some steam.

As they turned a corner and disappeared into the shadows of the night, a sense of calm settled over them. In that moment, all that mattered was each other, their bond unbreakable in the face of any asshole that tried to ruin their good night. There was still time to turn things around.

And so, with the badger’s arm secured around his taller counterpart, Elex and Sven ventured into the unknown night, ready to face the rest of their evening in the comfort of their own home, albeit, with a quick stop at the liquor store for snacks and whiskey.

The End

Author’s Notes: I know I know, it’s short and sexless, but wasn’t that fun? 😍 I love angry Elex, being mean and beating people up while suffering from allergies. 🤧 I enjoyed it, I hope you did too!

[punkeropercyjackson]

DC Palentines(Tim Drake and Summer Kent)lore dump.This is a familial/platonic selfship!

They met during Superpunk 1990/Robin 1993 and are 3 years apart

Summer beefed with Tim for 'replacing' Jason and Tim hated Summer out of still not unlearned self-righteousness

But thanks to Tim's girlfriend and Summer's little brother i.e Stephanie and Kon being Summer's best friend and Tim's best friend,they're in the same place or connected so often they have no choice but to interact often

So that leads to them actually getting to know eachother and working together in superheroics.And least to say,they couldn't believe they ever hated eachother out of their own Pride & Prejudice(I'm sorry i had to lmao)

........The Pride & Prejudice they hated eachother over is Jason actually.LMFAO

Tim sees Summer as yet another cool older sister figure he can rely on(Babs,Cass AND Helena damn okay go off king)and Summer sees Tim as an add-on to his younger siblings collection(ALL the Superkids that have appeared in the comics are canon to this verse,plus Match getting adopted by Clois and @mayameanderings ' s/i Cindy.Summer has major Eldest Daughter Syndrome and Troubled But Good Kid Trauma so that includes taking in every kid he meets that needs it)

Summer radicalized Tim and provided him shelter when Jack died and he couldn't bear to stay with Bruce at the time due to the extreme turbalance of their relathionship.Afterwards Tim was constantly insistant on paying Summer back to the point it borderlined on self-destructive but Summer had enough experience with that situation to put a stop to it before he could hurt himself irreversably

Tim got Summer into tagging and graffiti/street art and they go around to throw some tags up or do some analysis of street art they take interest in.Summer uses his kryptonian/human hybrid superheight and kryptofang(kryptonian dragon,his specific species)wings to help Tim throw up pieces in hard to reach places

He also introduces him to his favorite books/texts he normally can't nerd out with other people.The philosophical stuff like Art of War,Diogenes and Camus(Jason is also into that but Tim refuses to spend enough time with him solo to find that out)

And shows him his favorite super niche nerd stuff too-Like architecture in Gotham and how it interacts with and changes the ways the newer Bats traverse with the city,or the history of the undercity and how it affects the actual crime and even everyday life of Gothamites!They have a lot of fun discussing it and for strategy for Summer's hero work as well

Summer is afrolatina squared(black biracial with dominican birth parents and adopted by Clark and Lois,who are black mexican and black dominican and both monoracial).He's literally kryptonian Starfire and not just because he was mentored by her and Dick as a sidekick but as Sparks,he was a rowdy and loud goth tomboy with a huge mean and bitter streak as trauma coping and a defense mechanism in addition to a hodgepodge neurodivergent disorders.All the other Robins had Batgirl but Jason had Sparks

Tim is cherokee on Janet's side and Jack wasn't malicious but he was extremely white and rich so he had a strong cultural disconnect.Tim was a trans freakish kid that ran around on the street for the majority of his Gotham nightlife out of audhd.The running around alleys and on rooftops sparked a natural love and fascination for the art that covers the city's landscape

They love sitting on ledges together that Summer lifts them up to in Gotham and Metropolis equally,discussing the things they've discovered and how to traverse them and the differences yet similarities between them(the cities and themselves too)

Summer is a huge gastronomer so he taught Tim the culinary arts and focused on african and latino cuisine and their historical significance and meaning which leads to uncovering Tim's cherokee roots together with deep dive research and doing cultural fusion.This includes but is not nearly limited to them taking care of eachother's hair and being allowed to touch it whenever and wherever they want(Standard hairstyles are natural i.e Big floof and straight for Summer and Tim respectively but Summer loves braiding Tim's hair in all kinds of looks and running his hands through it and massaging his scalp as a pressure stim and Tim is fascinated and awed by Summer's kinky hair and thinks it's the best kind of hair and their favorite styles are sisterlocks,pufftails and goddess braids and he makes haircare products for him since he wants to keep improving his diy skills as long as he can)

They also both dye their hair.Summer has his baby pink bangs and Tim has red dip tips.Summer started his as part of his start as a solo hero,Ember,and Tim did his job on his own in manic panic until Summer showed up and helped him do it right and since he was in-need of a redye himself,he let him do his and they watched movies as the bleach and dye dry process happened

They're both huge energy drink enjoyers as true alts and can be found hanging out at marts and at food trucks owned by poc too obvs.They order eachother's cultural foods as a tradition for platonic soul sharing

Summer is solarpunk so Tim had to be too.He dragged himself along and was equally dragged along into it.Summer teaches Tim all about decolonization and activism and Tim obviously feels a connection to it as a cherokee person as a Summer does a black person.They have beach days that double as fun times like ice cream and swimming and sandplaying and eco-cleansing kryptonianly and humanly by hand as a team and Tim uses his voice as the son of Bruce Wayne to speak out and Summer is Metropolis' anarchy poster child and the face of black/latina Metropolitan women.Tim adopts the fashion and includes diy taught to him by Summ and they look like a walking goth x pastel meme but with brown and black slay instead of white gentrification of the punk aesthetic.Gorgeous long pure black straight hair and homemade hunting boots and edgy ahh tops with either meme refs or pro native messages for Tim and unreastrained huge natural blackity black hair with handmade fancy beads and showy pastel tops and long ass self-designed skirts and they're both covered in piercings

Summer is a huge nerd himself so he got Tim into animanga and nintendo games and girlypop media and black/latino cult classics and Tim returned the favor by getting him to participate in the appropriate for non-natives cherokee traditions and norms.Tim taught Summer normie teen speak before he freaked it and Summer taught Tim kryptonian techniques.They even have matching Tamagotchis-Summer has Angel Uni and Tim has Monster Uni,Summer offered to share with Jason but he said no to look cool so Summer shrugged it off and asked Tim so Jason tried to take it back and Summer told him to he should've manned up and not played on his nonexistent coolness.Tim burst out laughing at that but was touched anway and accepted.Jason and Tim are the only non-Supers(Lois is an honorary one)who know how to do Summer's makeup perfectly for him with no critisism

Summer convinced Tim to physically transition because his internalized trans.phobia was stopping him out of fear of 'ruining' his body but Summer told him it's not his body if he dosen't love as much as Summer loves him and as much as Tim loves Tim.He shared his own experiences with harrasment to transition and degendering against his will to reassure him and got him his surgeries done by Taliacorp doctors so he could have hawk wing shaped top surgeries scars and took him to Dairy Super afterwards in a sports bra and his baggiest cargo pants to show solidarity as a no t or op genderfluid and bigender transmasc

They play Animal Crossing and Time Management games together religiously,Tim turned Summer into a Skater Girl and Summer saved Tim from poser punk.Sunflower4Rose.Summer is a tank at 7' and a beefcake(fat AND muscle but itty bitty tiddies)and Tim is an average height twink.They are best friends,siblings,mom friend and problem child and a secret fourth thing(platonic soulmates against faith)

Summer became half Kryptofang because Lex injected him with the dna of the last surviving one and the ghost of it he shares a headspace with is named Fantasma.This gives Summer DID symptoms the way Speedforce gives Flashes audhd symptoms and Tim has narcolepsy and chronic pain so disabled solidarity

Summer is summer,sunshine and optimism and the sea and sugary sweetness and bubblicity and open boisterous femininity.Tim is autumn,mellow and melancholic and the earth and sour flavoring and a hardcore but welcoming kind of darkness

SORRY THEY MAKE ME SO SAPPY Tim makes it known how much he hates Jason but dosen't hold it against Summer and blames him entierly for corrupting him into joining The Outlaws and never liked him beforehand.They're on good terms now but it's more for Summer's sake than any progression and it makes Summer sad sometimes but he's accepted it,especially since at least they like eachother now.Jason loves using it against Tim he's dating Summer to piss him off but Summer never let him get away with actual cruelty to him back when he wanted to do it.He encourages Tim to be mean to Jason though

"Summ is LITERALLY the cooler Jason.On every level including the bonus'.I'd say i can't wait until he dumps his ass but they're mated for life or some dragon shit so that's never happening" "NIGGA I'M RIGHT HERE" "I know.I was talking to your wife.And you needed to hear it." "I actually already tell him stuff like this daily but he needs to hear it more." "See?" "This is elder abuse," "I'm older than you by 5 months and technically an ancient kryptonian being because of Fantasma.No,it's not."

[natsmagi]

sorry, i really don’t get you because you say you draw tsumugi with the body you do because she ‘seems like the type of girl who would have a good body (weird that you call that kind of ‘no fat but on the boobs sex doll body’ good but okay?) but covers it up’ and then don’t draw her covered up.

like you draw her in tiny skirts with her ass hanging out and shit constantly, in every one of your drawings is her body emphasised and on show and i just want to know what your fucking deal is? not only does it feel really mischaracterising for tsumugi, but it’s just really weird and gross. also you’ve literally never drawn a single fat character, all your characters are stick thin with different boob and hip sizes.

are we seriously doing this again. its ok to not like my art. its ok to not have it be to your tastes. its ok to disagree with my portrayals. it doesnt need to be much deeper than that

your rephrasing of my quotes is misleading though. ive re-emphasized the point more clearly before, but my points are based on societal standards and expectations, not my own personal preferences. big boobs small waist is the body type that gets ogled at the most, stereotypically speaking, so it makes it fun for her to have that body as her personality and the way she carries herself isnt whats commonly associated with it. with my depictions i try to take context into question. i dont just give the character a body or appearance that i like, i try to think how i can translate their character along with changing their figure (if at all). of course, i am not perfect, my stuff will not appeal to everyone and my takes might be disagreeable, and thats ok.

as for my tsumugi depiction; i dont know what you want me to say. tsumugi wears a button-up shirt with pants and a belt in canon. in my femstars version i simply change the pants into a pencil skirt. the belt is synched around the waist. its gonna make her waist look smaller than it is, as the belt is highlighting that area and creating contrast. this is a common way to dress and i honestly dont think i draw her in revealing clothes too often? like yea it happens. duh. and ive drawn some horny and suggestive art with her to add. but i do not think i go out of my way to flaunt her body or have her wear as little as humanly possible (which i dont even think would be an issue. an artist having fun is not the end of the world). i mainly do it when its, again, a suggestive drawing, or when its been for a joke. its not really meant to be anything deep sure, maybe she has her cleavage out every once in a while, but thats just. Her having boobs. i give natsume revealing clothes just as, if not more often than i do tsumugi, but people dont seem to care/notice as shes rather curveless. and idol clothes are separate from personal clothes that theyd casually wear because its what they enjoy, and its the idol clothes that tend to have that more "attractive" tinge to them her body isnt the focal point of my art very often either?? like if ur just staring at her boobs in every single one of my drawings atp thats on u

[campweehawken]

2024 Signups Open

Hello Campers! This is the official sign up post for Weehawken 2024!

Camp Weehawken is back for another year woohoo!

We are ready to open the doors up for another exciting year of camp Weehawken! Camp will officially start on Friday June 7th, however we are starting signups today!

We are keeping it pretty similar to last year, so here's a quick refresher!

Returning features-

DISCORD SERVER: The Discord Server is going to be in use again this year for Campfire group RP and general discussion of the AU.

This server was set up to help participants get in touch with each other, discuss the events of Weehawken in a group chat and share art and fics.

Discord is available to computer and mobile users and it’s free to sign up if you don’t already have an account. Requesting a link to the discord will be part of the Weehawken sign up process which I will be detailing below.

Links will be given out for the entirety of the event and won’t close until Camp Weehawken’s conclusion.

Important note: You do not need to join the Discord server to take part in Weehawken. The main posts and character interactions can take place on tumblr between RP/ask blogs. However it is highly recommended that you do so if you don’t want to miss out on anything!

Returning from Last Year: We are allowing participants to be Discord-exclusive, however we are asking that they have at the very least a text post detailing their character for reference. (full explanation here)

Spectator- If you simply want to spectate on Discord without actually participating in the camp RP, all you need to do is send an ask to this blog requesting a link and we’ll give you access to the server.

If you have any questions, send an ask to this blog. Without further ado, here is everything you need to know about signing up.

HOW TO SIGN UP:

Message this blog and give us these three details:

Role: Options are camper, counselor or staff. If you would rather have some other role like camp mascot, send a request! Campers are under the age of 18. They tend to range from 12 - 17 years of age but you can have somewhat younger characters. Only characters 18 years old and up can be staff or counselors. Because this is an AU you can make your character any age you’d like!

Blog Name: You will need to have an RP blog or Info Post to participate in Weehawken; when it’s all set up, tell us the blog name or where to find your Info Post. Tumblr might not let the message through if you type a URL. Just give us the name of the blog, like so: ex. “campweehawken”

Preferred Cabin: (doesn’t apply to staff) Campers and counselors reside in cabins that fit one counselor and a maximum of 8 campers.  If you have any preference for what cabin you want to be sorted into, let us know in your registration. If you supply no preference you will be sorted into a random cabin.

Discord (Optional): If you would like a link to the discord, please ask for it in your signup ask.

Take a look at the 2024 Cabin List to see where you and other campers have been sorted as well at who the staff are! Links to all participant blogs will be available there. The list is constantly updating as more submissions come in. Discord-exclusive cabins will have links to the info posts for those characters.

If your blog has more than one character, you will be filling up more than one vacancy spot unless your characters happen to be family: cousins, twins, siblings. Then, the characters can share a bed in the cabin and fill up just one vacancy spot.

INFORMATION LINKS:

Since it’s hard for me to cover all of the topics in one little post, I’m going to give you all some resources to help you figure this event out.

-FAQ: Answers to general questions we receive. Also a well of basic information about this event.

-Camp Weehawken Staff Brochure: Information about camp activities and various roles to be played at Camp.

-Camp Tags: The tags that are used on this blog and participant’s blogs for the event.

If you can’t find an answer to your question in any of these places, just drop us an ask and we’ll respond as soon as we can.

All in all, Camp Weehawken is an open ended event! You can be as creative as you’d like. The moderators of the event are always open to suggestions for RP events, streams and more. But keep in mind that this is a public event! Please be respectful.

If you have any issues with other participants, how things are being run or any other problems, the moderators are here to help. You can send messages to this blog to request help with any topic.

Applications are officially open!!

-Camp Weehawken Directors

[vickysaurus-art]

Love hearing the thought that went into your Shifty art! How did you pick the poses of some of the princesses?

Okay I’m gonna skip the hair princesses since I already kind of covered them here. And here’s a reminder of the art:

-For the ones closest to Shifty, I stuck pretty close to the actual minis’ poses. So the one that seems to be loyally clinging to her the hardest got to be Damsel since she seemed a good fit.

-The Greys take their poses from a pair of minis who seem to be really close to each other. At least, the lower one is constantly clinging to the upper one’s butt and using it as a pillow, even in ‘attack’ animations. I find them pretty funny and cute, so I put the Greys in that spot, probably because I’ve seen some excellent art shipping them. Also unlike most princesses, their faces being turned away works well with their personalities.

-Cold Princess’s spot was actually Thorn’s at first, before I found a better pose for her. It came about because that mini is one of the few whose face you can see, looking as much at you as at Shifty. I thought this gave her a cautious/conflicted vibe that fit Thorn. Later on I realised it fit Cold just as well. Replacing Thorn with Cold was a fun exercise in finding all the small differences between them, of which there are more than you’d think.

-We all know Witch is a nefarious backstabbing gremlin, so her doing something to get ahead at another princess’s expense felt right, and Prisoner has that chain as a convenient handhold. On a side note, I feel my Witch ended up looking so much like Fleki from Dungeon Meshi.

-Beast is big, so she had to go in this spot for the composition’s sake to counterbalance Adversary. For her pose I asked the discord for ideas, and her biggest fan suggested her to be either sneaking or proudly puffing out her chest like Scar from Lion King (which I used for Den). I had a pretty tough time with her anatomy and I actually forgot her wrappings in the first WIP with her in it, so I actually posted naked princess to my good clean blog.

-Empty Cup’s heart just gets held up by a mini hand in the Shifty dance, and there’s a random arm sticking out where Beast’s head ended up in the original art so I thought it would be funny to have that hand do the honours. But with Beast bigger than I thought she had to move a bit, which is a bit of a shame because I rather liked that little detail.

-I knew Moment of Clarity was gonna be creepily staring at us from very early on, so Nightmare had to be doing something different. I considered one of her sassy poses but then figured that just because she can’t be scaring us doesn’t mean she can’t be scaring someone else. Not many princesses fit the role of scaree, but I had sketched Warm Princess nearby Nightmare already so I just moved her up a bit.

-Stranger’s spot first belonged to Razor before I realised Razor would be skewering princesses left and right if she was in the crowd. Then that spot was gonna be reserved for a Pristine Cut princess, until I realised something important about Stranger. In Shifty’s actual art, the minis are facing away from us, but I want to show faces. For the princesses on the sides that’s no problem since they naturally end up in profile, but the princesses in the middle naturally look away from us. So I had to find some excuse for turning princesses in the middle to the side. But Stranger’s extra faces meant I could still draw them even if the central face was looking at Shifty, making her perfect for a spot near the middle. Her comforting Warm and having Fury claw into her shoulder came about just because she happened to be in the right spot for both. If you look closely you can see she does have multiple hands, which are quite recognisable because they all have unusual numbers and positions of fingers.

-Adversary needed to go in that spot to counterbalance Beast, but I didn’t have a pose in mind until I was looking for refs and found a screenshot of her in the Shifty dance, standing up defiantly and looking like she’s bellowing a challenge. So that inspired me to have her challenging Shifty, though I did lay her down for the composition’s sake.

-Razor’s planned spot moved quite a bit: from Stranger’s spot, to being on Beast’s back waving her blades through the air. Then Beast turned out bigger than expected so Razor had to go back down to not mess up the composition. So I figured she’d probably be stabbing someone. At first I was gonna put her skewering a livid Fury, probably about to get hit by an organ-unwinding in return. But while I didn’t mind a bit of princess-on-princess violence, I wanted to keep the tone a bit lighter, so she finally ended up fighting Needle instead. I figure those two would get along.

-I had Deconstructed Damsel just sort of clinging to Needle’s butt in the thumbnail sketch, but I knew I was probably gonna move her. When Shifty’s hands grab her away she has an excellent shocked face so I thought it’d be funny to have her react to the Needle vs Razor fight, and putting another small princess between Beast and Razor worked well anyway.

-I’ve only played Fury’s chapter once and it wasn’t that clear in my mind, so I went to the discord for pose ideas. The main ones I got back were ‘angry but elegant’ and ‘clawing into another princess’. So with the fight going on near her, I went for a ‘You’d best break this up right now, or I will’ look. Poor Stranger happened to be in range of her claw.

-The Pristine Cut princesses were always going to be a part of this, but I didn’t plan on them all clustering around Fury. That happened because I kept finding better uses for their spots and I worked downwards and from the outside in, so they kept getting pushed back until they gathered around Fury. I hope none of them are big. I live in dread that Apotheosis might get two truly different endings like Wild or Prisoner.

-I got to Thorn petting Den through trying to think of a pose for Cold Princess. She’s got a pretty multi-faceted personality foreshadowing the six chapter 2 princesses she can become, so there were lots of possibilities but also none that jumped out as perfect. I thought of having her have a surprisingly pleasant conversation with Fury. Or just, arrogantly inspecting her nails. I knew I was gonna have Den proudly posed nearby, so then I thought of her being so happy because Cold was petting her. Which was cute, but still no flavour slamdunk. I then realised showing kindness to the dangerous beast despite her initial misgivings would actually fit Thorn, whom I’d already drawn, really well, and Thorn’s cautious pose would fit Cold equally well. I wasn’t quite sure at first and didn’t commit to the swap, drawing a generic princess without detail petting Den, and only when I saw it really was quite cute and befitting Thorn did I give her Thorn’s detail while replacing o.g. Thorn with Cold.

-Moment of Clarity is a creepshow and I knew from very early on I wanted her staring at the viewer like an extra in a James Tissot painting while still having her torso angled forward. I have no doubt she can turn her head backwards. As for Prisoner, her head gets carried separately by the minis and I thought it a funny gag to have one of Clarity’s disembodied hands doing the honours.

-Tower and Apotheosis pop up in the background instead of the foreground in-game, which is an elegant solution to deal with their size but not one I wanted to take. So they had to go into the corners with only their heads visible. I figure Tower would be hella jealous of Shifty in this situation, so that’s what she ended up looking like. Apotheosis is too big to show much personality, but I rather like that I can use her hair to frame the image. Maybe I should have it curling up into the Pristine Cut princesses’ spots for now to fill those up. Incidentally I do plan to give them the right skin colour after I finish inking - along with a bunch of other darker tones like Drowned Grey’s clothing that I’m also gonna do in pencil once I don’t need to worry about covering up pencil details any more.

-Oh yeah, for Shifty herself I went with her loving pose because I actually adore Shifty and think that expression looks really sweet. Although her manic-looking arms wide pose is fantastic too.

[afternoondreaming]

No Business Like Show Business (3/?)

Hey there, everyone! Sorry it’s been a bit of a hot minute without any writings- celebrated my birthday this month, so I’ve been a tad busy! Now I’m rewarding myself with writing my dear Puzzle man. Also, can’t believe they let my man say fuck. We’re truly in the future, folks

“…Starlet? Oh, Starlet…? Do you make a habit of ‘spacing out’?” Mr. Puzzles leaned across the table to get closer to your eye level, waving his hand in front of your face. You were, as of current, left aghast at the man’s suggestion. Work alone? It was ridiculous. A studio couldn’t be ran by itself! Yet, the more you thought of it, the more the puzzle pieces fit together. A building bereft of staff, left obviously unused. The interviews where he simply posed the questions to himself. All the unanswered résumés constantly being shipped in… Besides those few actors he had on board briefly, which he seemed to hold a grudge against given his attitude in the shows, this was a one man show.

“How… Do you pump out all this content?” You spoke slowly, turning your focus to him again. He looked surprised that you finally spoke up, but quickly switched his screen to a more offended face.

“Excuse you! I don’t make content and it’s not ‘pumped out’!” If a TV could pout, it was about as close as one could get to it. “I make art! I make cinema!” Mr. Puzzles roughly slammed his hands against the desk, kicking up dust as he sprung to his feet. As you began to cough, he continued his confident rambling. “Puzzlevision’s film making techniques are proprietary, so! Until you sign on the dotted line and accept such a golden opportunity, you’ll never know~!” The man looked smug as he leaned closer across the table, goading you on.

As you tried to wave away the rest of the dust, you began to think. You were certainly curious and having such a big name on your résumé would certainly catapult you to whatever heights you wanted to reach. There was just one problem…“Listen, Mr. Puzzles, while I really want to accept this offer… The commute will be way too long. I need to find a place first before I can accept-“

“Oh! That. Easy fix!” He habitually interrupted you, rising from his chair to round the table towards you. “It’s rather common for companies to cover moving costs and provide local housing listings~ I believe there’s a few in the apartment complex across the street! We’ll simply get you settled in there.” Like a fact he said it plainly, hand coming down to pay your shoulder assuredly. “I take it you accept, then?”

“Well, yes, but-“

“Perfect!” The TV in front of you turned manic, eerie face with realistic eyes and smile jittering. “Time to share my genius Puzzlevision process, partner.” Suddenly you felt a pull. A gravitational force towards the man’s screen, all the while that disturbing face towered over you.

“Woah- hey- what’s going on-!” Before you could finish your sentence, you were pulled closer to the screen. Vision quickly going to black as you lost all awareness of the dusty interview room around you.

“Ugh… What just happened…?” You groaned, pushing yourself up off of the floor you were lying on. As you got your bearings, you wished you didn’t. All around you, you were surrounded by void. Giant TVs all around you filled with a low, droning static. Shaking, you picked yourself up off the floor. “Hello…? Is anyone there?” You were in an interview before, right?

“Welcome! To the Puzzlevision proprietary secret!” A booming, familiar voice called out. Up from the void below rose a giant, familiar figure. Right. Mr. Puzzles. How could you possibly forget. “You’re absolutely star struck, Starlet, I know~!” With a knuckle he tapped against the side of his head causing the whole world to shake, nearly toppling you over again. “My head always makes for the best sets and crew!”

“I’m… In your head.” It was hard to believe. I mean, who possibly could? First the man has a TV for a head in the first place. Now this? “Right now. Your head. In it.”

“Right you are, my dear little Starlet! Who needs a studio when you have the realm of imagination!” Mr. Puzzles dramatically struck a pose, a happy smile on his face as he waited for your reaction.

“And you expect me to work here.” It felt like your head was going to explode.

“Well, when we’re filming, yes!” Your question seemed to take him aback, pose dropping as he looked confused. “If you’d like to write in here, you certainly can… But I will gladly dust off the old studio for you and I to brainstorm in~” There it was again. The fact that only you two- and, let’s face it, it’s essentially just you- will be writing, producing, and workshopping movies. Entirely. By. Yourself.

“I…I think I’m gonna lie down for a minute...”

“Starlet? Starlet-!” You couldn’t hear the rest of the flamboyant man’s cries, as you quickly found yourself dropping like a puppet with its strings cut all the way to the ground.

[deinotname]

BNHA Fanfic Idea 2

Okay! Now we're leaving RotG ideas aside and going back to BNHA (I also have ONE idea for TROLLS and a bunch of ideas for Karmaland 4 [which you might not know what that is] and some very vague ones for Harry Potter). Anyway, here's the idea:

Warning, this will be long

Title: A little breeze (Like the flutter of a butterfly)

Summary: In which Izuku has a quirk considered "weak", but Izuku is also extremely intelligent, and knows that a simple screw can be the support of an entire large structure. Or, the story in which Izuku obtains a quirk related to the mixture of his parents: Inko can attract small things to herself, Hisashi can breathe fire from his mouth. The result? Izuku can control, in extremely small quantities, cold or hot air currents.

Facts: 1. For much of his childhood, Izuku was teased for not having a Quirk, as during his visit to the doctor, even though it was determined that he technically did have a Quirk, they couldn't figure out what it was. So people assume that Izuku either has a weak Quirk, or he doesn't have one at all.

1.1 His father abandoned him for the same reason, his mother stayed to support him.

1.2 Because they couldn't figure out what it was, there was a record that he had a Quirk but the box was never filled out. So, in the civil records, instead of being marked Quirkless, it just appears empty.

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2. Since his mother stayed behind to support him, she taught Izuku how to control his Quirk (initially). Also, seeing during the first few years that Izuku would come home from school beaten up, and because she's a nurse, she taught him first aid and took care of preparing a small first aid kit for him for any emergency.

2.1 When they discovered Izuku's quirk, Inko was so happy for her son that she forgot to carry out the Quirk registration. This was when Izuku was 9 (not a late bloomer, they just never identified his power before).

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3. When Izuku is ten years old, Inko is killed in a villain attack (she actually dies in the cave-in that occurs during the fight) and the heroes do nothing to help her or Izuku (when they find out). Izuku runs away from the police, angry at the heroes and determined to be better than them.

3.1 Being the clever little guy that he is, and for the convenience of the plot, he manages to hide his identity well: he temporarily dyes his hair (with washable paint), wears fake glasses, covers his freckles or paints on marks, among other ideas.

---

4. He goes to public libraries to learn. He watches parkour videos and starts training (he gets hurt a lot at first, but slowly learns). He also looks up martial arts fighting videos to learn how to fight. He eventually starts practicing gymnastics to become more elastic.

4.1 He originally tries to keep up with the school program he is supposed to follow, but because he is homeless, training on his own, has no money, and struggles to get food and live the day, he drops out.

4.2 He still teaches himself, but only subjects he finds relevant: improving his reading (so he can learn other subjects), English (potentially can help him pretend to be a foreigner if someone recognizes him), basic medicine (he remembers his mother's teachings), history (he became interested in the subject and it helps him with research). He will eventually learn advanced mathematics, so he can calculate how much wind power he will need for certain movements.

4.3 He still carries out his hero analysis, but instead of writing it down, since he doesn't have many resources, he stores it in his memory.

---

5. He uses his Quirk to help him with his stunts, he's a bit faster, can do more risky turns and jump a bit higher. He can also slightly withstand different temperatures (since he controls the temperature of the breeze).

5.1 Much of his practice is due to the fact that he needs to use his Quirk constantly to survive (running from dangerous guys or surviving the cold of the night). He uses his Quirk so often that he managed to slightly increase his power and incredibly his resistance using his Quirk.

5.2 When he exceeds the use of his Quirk, his head starts to hurt and he has trouble breathing, as if he were short of air.

5.3 He can eventually use the air currents to create a barrier between him and fire (it doesn't work as a constant shield, but as a temporary shield to move before receiving the blow). He can also eventually use the currents to create air bubbles around his head to resist underwater.

5.4 He uses the breezes to climb walls with parkour even if there is nowhere to grab.

---

6. His vigilante name is Breeze, as according to the people he saved, or the guys he stopped, he comes and goes like a breeze.

6.1 Due to suffering from Quirk discrimination (having no or weak one), Izuku doesn't like bullies, and always puts them in their place when he's Breeze.

6.1.1 He saved Shinsou, Monoma, and Toga. He talked to Monoma's parents (who didn't know their son was discriminated against) and they agreed to take care of Shinsou and Toga. Izuku later runs into Dabi, forcibly adopts him, and then gets Monoma's parents to adopt him as well.

6.2 He meets Eraserhead in his second year of being a vigilante, when he saved a girl trapped in a building about to collapse. Izuku uses his power in two approaches: running faster and pushing some falling debris out of his way.

6.3 Eraserhead tries to catch him (to bring him to Ingenium for adoption into their agency) until he realizes he's a child. He then starts bringing him food, helps him improve his fighting styles (good moves, but sloppy in several spots). He wants to gain his trust so he can help him. We're team Dadzawa here.

[bobbybutterfly]

SO @32girassoisdevangogh! REMEMBER WHEN YOU TOLD ME YOU WANTED MY DESIGNS TO BE MARKETABLE PLUSHIES?!

Well. These are not exactly plushies but…

Tada! I can’t believe I actually managed to “finish” them in time. We’re leaving for England on Monday so it was a race to have them somewhat finished. I made Bamsaegi first. Originally the plan was to make these “dolls” completely out of cotton, loads of glue, some pipe cleaners and sting. It did not go as planned. First up instead of cotton I ended up buying wool because I figured it’s close enough.

It was just SOOO MESSY and wouldn’t keep its shape no matter what. My mom saw it wasn’t working and asked me why I didn’t get proper cotton from the drug store. I only went looking in arts and crafts because I thought what they would have in the drug store would be pressed into round shapes. You know. Those things you use to remove your make up. The next day mom took me to the drug store and turns out they had exactly what I wanted.

Finally. I could get properly started. Except no! It was a horrible material to work with! The cotton constantly kept sticking to my paintbrush I used to apply the glue. Additionally the cotton kept picking up all kinds of dirt. At times turning black. Would not recommend. I don’t know how the YouTuber I watched made it look so easy.

I was at the end of my patience. If I want to make 3D stuff I would have to go and use DUN DUN DUN polymer clay. Or regular clay. JUST NO. I hate the feeling of clay stuck to my hands. Autism? What are you doing here?! I had to figure something else out. I didn’t feel like learning to sow. So. This thing with cotton and glue reminds me of something else. Papier Mache!

I actually used to think that this cotton mess would be better. I thought that papier mache takes an enormous amount of paper. Probably because the one time I did it prior to this project was in art school as a kid with a neurotic teacher. So. Where was I going to find the paper I would need?

There’s this saying in Slovakia that we’re one hundred years behind monkeys (joke about evolution meaning we’re behind the rest of the world). I didn’t even need to leave the house to get what I needed. The mail box was full to brim with catalogs. Plus there were recently the EU elections. Which meant a large news paper looking thing with all the parties written out on it. Perfect!

So that’s how Bamsaegi came to be. I first made a skeleton out of pipe cleaners. Covered that with crumpled paper. I found it kind of ironic that I’m making a character from a communist propaganda cartoon out of a bunch of advertisements. Additionally papier mache would be something you couldn’t do in North Korea. From the book I read paper there is rare and kept a close eye on. For obvious reasons of course. If I would ever have a serious gallery exhibition of these dolls/sculptures I think I would expand on that.

As you can see I ended up covering him in cotton. I wanted the texture and also it smoothed out the bumps. This was before I learned that if you want it smooth you got to cover it in a bunch of small pieces of paper. I first covered the base with glue. Then took a thin bunch of cotton. To smooth it out and to make it stick better I would run the paint brush across it in the direction of the fibbers. Lastly I painted it with watered down acrylic colours after it dried. I was surprised at how painting it went so smooth. Very satisfying.

I decided to first do a more show accurate character. I thought the stylised proportions would be easier. Obviously he’s not perfect. With the colours and the off proportions he’s looking very retro. Like the 70s and 80s communist era toys I saw in an antique shop. I like to think that if they made official toys back then they would look like this.

Onto Geumseagi. He started off as a Disney Prince Eric from Little Mermaid doll by Mattel. So the size of your average Ken. I sadly don’t have the original doll photo. He cost 14 euros (technically 13,99). I thought I would cut him out of the papier mache and use him as base for other dolls. He’s still buried in Geumseagi today. I didn’t want to risk cutting him out of there. And I like the added weight. Those stupid boots were a terror so I don’t think I would want to deal with them when making a new project.

So the head. Originally I wanted to mould it out of clay. But once I realized that I wouldn’t be cutting him off the doll I decided to use the original one. The clay one would be too heavy and hard to keep on the neck. As you can see I chopped off his nose, chin and let’s say gave him a rather brutal hair cut. Knowing what I know now I would have cut off even more of the hair. From my drawings I know big foreheads on squirrels do not look good.

And there we have it. Geumseagi in my style. In 3D. There are 2 tiny spots on the legs where the original doll pokes throught. The pants were rushed not gonna lie. I like that it’s a bit wrinkly. It reminds me of my paintings with the different thicknesses of paint. Making something 3D that looks like my paintings is something I wanted to achieve for a while. I’m glad I don’t have to learn how to use Blender. Unfortunately it does mean I can’t use the dry brush technique because it emphasises those crevices. For shading I then have to go manually where I want it. Like under the chin and around the pockets.

I’m excited to see what ya’ll will think. Sad that I discovered this just when I’m leaving. Grandma probably won’t want ripped up news paper and glue all over her kitchen.

PS. I’m adding his tail when I return. Too much work.

[losersimonriley]

MWIII spoilers below - canon compliant drabble

Knowing

591 words, Major character death, non religious depictions of the afterlife, suicidal ideation from Ghost, bittersweet

It’s with the clarity that death brings that he knows it’s not the end. Far from it.

There are certain promises upon fading from this reality over to the next.

That there is a moss covered cottage in Scotland, empty and waiting. It needs some repairs. Definitely new furniture. He’ll have his work cut out before Ghost joins him soon, that’s for sure.

That there will come a time when Price, Gaz, and Laswell and her wife visit often. Sometimes Nikolai, Farah and Alex, too. Captain John Price will be washed free of the guilt. They’ll go hiking and fishing and grab lunch at the pub down by the water. Soap will be forever smug about how much they enjoy his Caledonian air.

That he’ll take up art again. Dabble in a bit of everything. Ghost will let him practice tattoos on him like his own personal mannequin. Jack of all trades, master of none—except maybe being able to render a perfect portrait study of Simon Riley in five minutes flat.

That they’ll live as they lived before. Through bad jokes, bad flirting, having each other’s six through whatever comes. Long looks and words never really needed but more than welcome. They’ll finally figure it out. They will hold one another and take turns cooking dinner. Argue and apologise and kiss and fuck. God, they will love.

That Ghost will be his, and he’ll be Ghost’s. Easy in the way that coming into the living world is. Comfortable in the way that leaving it is. Love, undying.

That he’s going to meet Simon’s family. It will only come with a bundle full of nerves. But it’ll be no wonder his love was cut from the same cloth as this woman. She’ll be nothing short of a mother to him. He’ll get to see Simon being an older brother, an uncle. He’ll get to be an uncle. And he will adore every unhinged second of it.

That it’s going to take a while to get used to life in a civilian existence where humans aren’t constantly shitting on one another. Where there are no wars. No need for soldiers.

That he’ll get by just fine. He’ll thrive.

He wishes he could tell them this. He wishes he could have just a few more minutes to stay and assure Ghost of all the things left unsaid but always, always known between them. He wishes he could say, “Dinnae ye let this turn you into a ghost again, Simon Riley. Not after everything.”

But there is clarity in death. And he knows.

That Ghost will not make it out of the cold lust for revenge driven, unsanctioned solo-operation.

That Ghost will be reckless and hot-headed and sloppy. Everything he’s not. Because he will have no intention of living longer than it takes to complete the objective.

That Ghost gets Makarov but an explosion gets Ghost only minutes after.

He wishes he could warn him. He wishes he could seethe, “They plant enough c4 in that compound to blow the tits off the devil. They know you’re coming. It’s a trap. I know you know it’s a trap.”

He’ll ream the fucker out the very moment they see each other again.

But he has to go now.

And the last word his flawed, human ears hear is an utterly broken, “Johnny.”

And the last thing his useless, mortal body feels is a hand. Just the right size. Placed over his unbeating, but full—so full—heart.

That all he has to do is wait.

[stargazer-sims]

The character dev 11 list for Ginger and Mishka :3

Thanks for the ask! Sorry it took so long. Apparently, I grossly overestimated how much free time I would have last week... =(

Here you go!

__________

Vivienne Louise "Ginger" Holmes

How does your character feel about personal space?  Do they tend to make others uncomfortable with how close they get, or are they the ones constantly being uncomfortable with anyone getting too close to them? Or do they not care either way?

Ginger isn't particularly bothered either way. She respects people's personal space, but it's more of an instinct rather than something she consciously thinks about. She's also fine with people getting physically close to her, as long as they're not being intimidating or obnoxious about it.

What is your character’s dream career?  Are they actively trying to pursue it, or is just a wish/fantasy they have that they know can never come true?

Ginger has already had her dream career as a competitive figure skater (and world champion). Her second career, as a figure skating coach, wasn't one she necessarily dreamed about having, but she loves what she's doing now and wouldn't want to do anything else.

Would your character have fun in an art museum?  Or would they be bugging their friends to leave the whole time?

She'd hate going to an art museum and would be bored and disinterested the entire time. Assuming she was somehow convinced to go to an art museum, she has more class than to ask her companions to leave while they're actually there, but they'd certainly hear about it afterwards.

If your character is in pain, do they let everyone around them know just how bad it is, or do they tend to try and cover it up and say they’re fine? Does this ever result in negative consequences, whether it’s people ignoring their complains when they actually do have a bad injury, or their injury going untreated when they really do need help?

She's the sort to hide it and try to pretend she's fine. As a former professional athlete, she had to learn to tell her coach whenever she was in pain so that she could get the proper treatment, which was a true act of trust on her part. Now, she's not hearly as bad as she used to be about hiding her pain, but she's slipped back into her habit of trying not to let people know if she's suffering.

Does your character tend to make decisions based on instincts or “gut feelings,” or do they rely more on logic and careful consideration? Do they ever try to find a balance between the two?

Ginger is somewhere in the middle between the two, but leans more towards logic and consideration.

Is your character easily creeped out by ghost stories, horror movies, scary images, etc.? If so, what kinds of stories scare them the most? Why?

She loves ghost stories, but isn't a fan of horror movies in general. She doesn't see the point of gratuitous violence or horror for the sake of horror. Her preference is for something with a thought-provoking story or something psychologically scary.

Has your character ever had to overcome a big fear in order to complete an important task?  If so, what was the fear, and what did they have to do to overcome it?  If not, have they ever failed at a task because of a fear?

There's not much Ginger is actually afraid of. She's never had to overcome a "big fear" to accomplish anything, and she's never failed a task due to fear (although she's failed at many things in her life in general). Although going away to live another country at age 14 was daunting, she wasn't afraid of it, and overcame her nervousness quickly once she was settled in with her first host family.

Describe how your character deals with failed or failing relationships, whether familial, platonic, romantic, sexual, or otherwise.  Do they easily let go of people, or are they more likely to hold onto a relationship for as long as they can? Does this affect how they form relationships?

Ginger is good at letting go, but she's also an excellent judge of character and has made & held lifelong friendships. That's not to say she's perfect at it, since she did get deceived by her first husband, Liam, and made the poor decision to marry him after only knowing him for four months. She had no problem letting him go when the time came, though. She also had no issues letting go of her former friend Anya, whom she felt had betrayed a lot of people's trust.

Is your character gullible, or do they tend to be more skeptical? If they’re gullible, do people ever take advantage of them for it? And if they’re skeptical, is it hard for others to convince them of things that are actually true?

Ginger isn't the least bit gullible, but she's not a hardcore skeptic either. She would describe herself as practical and rational, and takes things with the proverbial grain of salt.

If your character emptied the contents of their pockets/purse/backpack/etc., what would be inside? Do they often have a lot of stuff on them from day to day, or are they light packers?

She's a fairly light packer. She doesn't like to carry a handbag, and if she does need a bag, she prefers a backpack. That's not to say she never carries a handbag or purse; it's just not common for her to do so. If Ginger emptied her pockets, you'd most likely only find her wallet, keys and phone, a chapstick during the winter, and the occasional tampon.

Just for fun: If your character was the protagonist of a fantasy RPG, what would their class be?

Warrior

Mikhail (Mishka) Vasiliev

How does your character feel about personal space?  Do they tend to make others uncomfortable with how close they get, or are they the ones constantly being uncomfortable with anyone getting too close to them? Or do they not care either way?

Personal space? What's that? Mishka does tend to make others uncomfortable, even if he isn't inside their personal zone, simply because of his size. He can be intimidating without ever meaning to, and although he's not the sort of person to get in people's faces, he does have a tendency to stand a bit closer than normal to people he knows because it makes him feel safer. He doesn't mind when people he doesn't know get close to him as long as they don't touch him or try to engage him in conversation. With his partner Nikolai, there literally is no personal space. If it was up to Mishka, he'd be as close to Nikolai as possible at all times. As it is, they're constantly holding hands or otherwise touching in some way when they're out in public, and Nikolai doesn't mind that Mishka is in his personal space so often.

What is your character’s dream career?  Are they actively trying to pursue it, or is just a wish/fantasy they have that they know can never come true?

Mishka had his dream career as a professional hockey player, and now he's having his second dream "career" as a stay-home dad.

Would your character have fun in an art museum?  Or would they be bugging their friends to leave the whole time?

Yes, MIshka would love to go to an art museum. He wouldn't be begging anyone to leave. Whoever he was with would probably have to beg him to leave.

If your character is in pain, do they let everyone around them know just how bad it is, or do they tend to try and cover it up and say they’re fine? Does this ever result in negative consequences, whether it’s people ignoring their complains when they actually do have a bad injury, or their injury going untreated when they really do need help?

Everyone knows when Mishka is in pain. He's not one to cry wolf or to exaggerate how bad his injury or illness is, but he also has a very low pain tolerance and dislikes being uncomfortable. He can be very dramatic when he's not feeling well or when he's hurt. People do take him seriously because he's generally honest about his injuries/illnesses. For example, if he cuts his finger, he's going to whine about it for longer than average to anyone who'll listen, but he's not going to say he's dying from the pain or that he's probably going to lose his finger. Mishka is very clingy and needy when he's not well, and it takes a special kind of patience to take care of him.

Does your character tend to make decisions based on instincts or “gut feelings,” or do they rely more on logic and careful consideration? Do they ever try to find a balance between the two?

Mishka's decision-making is neither extremely logical nor extremely impulsive. He leans more toward emotional decision-making, but his anxiety forces him to think about all the possible outcomes of his decision, so he ends up being reasonably balanced.

Is your character easily creeped out by ghost stories, horror movies, scary images, etc.? If so, what kinds of stories scare them the most? Why?

Yes! Mishka really dislikes anything that's intentionally scary. He dislikes ghost stories, horror movies, gore, gratuitous violence and pretty much everything in the shock/horror genre. He finds horror media that features children or animals to be particularly upsetting because he was once an abused child, and because he is soft-hearted and hates the idea of any harm ever coming to an innocent child or animal. He also doesn't like media where the child or animal is the monster rather than the victim, as he thinks children and animals should never be portrayed as evil. He finds that exceptionally disturbing.

Has your character ever had to overcome a big fear in order to complete an important task?  If so, what was the fear, and what did they have to do to overcome it?  If not, have they ever failed at a task because of a fear?

Most new things that Mishka experiences are accompanied by fears, from something small and ordinary like using the grill by himself for the first time to something huge like leaving his country of origin to pursue his athletic career in North America. If he wants to try new things, he always has to overcome his fears. Unfortunately, he doesn't always succeed. His fear often keeps him from going places on his own, and sometimes it keeps him from doing things he should (such as going to the dentist)

Describe how your character deals with failed or failing relationships, whether familial, platonic, romantic, sexual, or otherwise.  Do they easily let go of people, or are they more likely to hold onto a relationship for as long as they can? Does this affect how they form relationships?

Mishka loves people but he's highly selective about his relationships. He doesn't have many friends, but the ones he does have will likely be his friends for life. He doesn't do well with failed relationships because he often blames himself even when it's not his fault (or when it's no one's fault). He wants to hold onto his relationships as long as he can. The good news is, he's lost very few people in his life.

Is your character gullible, or do they tend to be more skeptical? If they’re gullible, do people ever take advantage of them for it? And if they’re skeptical, is it hard for others to convince them of things that are actually true?

Mishka tends to be skeptical. A lot of people think he's gullible because he's so sweet and gentle and quiet, but Mishka isn't stupid and he isn't the type to fall for something easily. In fact, he's wary of people who tell him things that seem too good to be true and he's wary of people who seem to be too good to be true themselves. His childhood experiences make him less trusting of others and less likely to be taken in by a story.

If your character emptied the contents of their pockets/purse/backpack/etc., what would be inside? Do they often have a lot of stuff on them from day to day, or are they light packers?

Mishka is a light packer. He's likely to have only his phone, wallet and keys on him at any given time. If he's with Nikolai, he might not even have his phone or keys because it's highly unlikely they'll be separated. Other things he might carry with him on a semi-regular basis would be his glasses and some peppermint candy.

Just for fun: If your character was the protagonist of a fantasy RPG, what would their class be?

Bard

[florallylly]

Loved your Steve child model au, esp because it focuses on Steve making his looks part of his personality. I wish the show would go into Steve's injuries more. We know he likes the way he looks and is a bit vain about it. If they never bring up the demobat scars again, what was the point? Because realistically he would struggle with it. Even prior to that his face should be littered with scars, his nose should look a bit wonky. I would love to see him coming to terms with his new look and how he will act because of it. Like you said I feel like Steve thinks beauty is all he has, he doesn't think he's smart enough, all his has is his looks and charms but if that gets taken away who really is he? I know the show won't ever acknowledge Steve's trauma, we would be lucky if the neck scar is visible in s5 but man. Sorry for this rant here

THANK YOU SO MUCH. i have literally been ruminating about this concept for ages, mentally begging someone to catch my brainwaves and write it. but unforch... it hasn't worked. had to get my little brain worm out in the form of word vomit, BUT I AM SO GLAD YOU GET THE VISION.

like he's constantly looking at the mirror pre-stranger things to make sure he's always looking perfect but after billy and starcourt, he can't help but look at the imperfections on his face. i don't think he's stop using mirror TOTALLY but i feel like at a certain point, he'd consider his BODY his appeal.

i think that him striking out in scoops would just validate his feelings about his looks, and make him feel even more like a Loser because could he even trust his fallback anymore? and just the crushing low self esteem because he thinks that all he has is being pretty, and when he loses that, then what is he?

and my theory is that when he does modeling on the side after his parents cut him off, photographers also point out his flaws and some of them end up trying to cover up his scars with make up or take focus away from his face. but he continues on because he Needs the Money. and at least he still has something attractive about him.

WHICH leading to family video, i think that steve would try to change his mannerisms to purposely bring attention to his figure and emphasize what he considers his best asset. only for his thoughts to be validated because he starts getting dates again.

in my heart, i imagine that during this time, he is connected with a photographer who is looking for a model for their art exhibition. and gushing over steve's "unique" look and his "bravery" for continuing to be a model. steve feeling super uncomfortable bc he's so used to trying to bring attention away from his face.

and maybe that photographer focuses on his scars, inspired to tell a story of sorts through their photos. and steve's eye twitching because he feels like a specimen under a microscope, and the focus on his "imperfections" just causes him to spiral a little bit rather than builds his confidence.

and the demobats just take away the last thing he's been able to hold onto. they take away the last thing that could possibly give him value.

and YEAH the show so rarely shows the consequences of trauma, especially when it comes to steve. and it's such a shame that the scars seem to disappear at the start of every season. if season 5 shows steve with ANY scars, i would be immensely surprised (though i think i might not watch season 5...)

ALSO sudden thought: steve harrington's brain trauma leading to migraines, and the bright lights during shoots trigger them. but he's so determined to see this through and prove his worth that he soldiers through. he's popping as much tylenol he can, but he's cold sweating bc the pounding in his head is so intense. and every time he leaves a shoot, he's out of commission for at least a day afterwards.

and i respond to ur rant with a rant <3 BUT YEAH thank you for getting the vision...

[silversweetpea]

Fresco Feelings

word count:2792

summary: It seems silly to make a birthday present for someone that you never met, its less silly to give someone that loved them something to remember them by.

warnings: Peter talks about May and is a little sad but that’s about the worst of it.

authors note: I love the idea of secret messages in public and i’m also constantly obsessed with the secret language of flowers. Both of these have combined into a problem which I could only solve by way of writing a quiet little gift giving fic for pete. Can be read as romantic or platonic because I'm still not sure exactly how old Pete is in Canon and I'm not comfy writing explicitly romantic stories for him when I'm an adult and he's a minor 😅 

❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿

“You hoping a spray a day will keep the doctor away?” Unexpected voices should startle you, but it’s hard to be scared of the one good guy swinging around your city. You pause in your detail work of the mural of Doctor Strange to look over your shoulder at Spiderman.

“Worth a shot, right? What’s up webs?” The vigilante sits on the lid of the dumpster behind you, legs swinging slightly where they hang over the edge. He looks casual but given how cold out it is you’re sure the guy is freezing his ass off through that thin costume of his. 

“Nothing much, it’s slow tonight.” You already know that, there’s a police scanner in your pocket that you use to keep up to date on how close you are to getting caught. Something bought from pure practicality and which had no relation to the colorful man behind you and trying to figure out if he was being safe in the city. 

“So are you going to arrest me then?” It wouldn’t be hard. Your hands and jeans are covered in the exact same shades as the cans rolling about your feet. The smell of spray paint lingered in your clothes like perfume and while you hadn’t signed the artwork you’d have a hard time keeping a straight face if they asked you what you thought about it.

Hell, this wasn’t even the first time he had caught you. You had lost count of how many times the hero had dropped down from the sky to critic your line art or help you come up with a better punchline to attach to it. This wasn’t one of your funniest pieces, more for the kids that passed the area on the way to school than to make a statement. 

“Nah, it’s not that slow. Not to mention that last time I tried to help with bringing in a case of vandalism I accidentally stepped into some family drama and it just wasn’t worth the hassle.” There’s a wince in his words, a scrunch of his face and shoulders that you can see from the corner of your eye as you pick up painting again. 

“So what you’re telling me is I have free reign over my alleys?”

“Don’t push it, like I said, it’s been slow.” His laugh is a nice sound even if its quieter than normal. In fact, the longer you listen to him and the more you speak to him the clearer it becomes that something is off. Maybe its just the cold of the dumpster?

“Okay, I think that’s about it for Strange.” The mural is painted in messy strokes and colorful blocks, the wizard sitting in one chair reading a newspaper with a towel wrapped about his head and a hand reaching through a portal which connects just next to him to a Starbucks cup on a counter. No need for a caption, too dangerous to sign your name when you poke fun at heroes so much. The cans are easy to gather and throw into your backpack and the whole while Spiderman sits quietly and watches you. 

You can see your breathe in the air as you turn to face him again and its unsettling to see how still he is. The vigilante’s eyes are hidden from the suit he wore but his posture is rigid and focused entirely on the mural you had just finished. He doesn’t move until you cough and tilt your head ever so slightly towards the exit in an unspoken question and even then Spiderman’s steps are quiet when they join yours in walking down the street.

“Do you know him?” The vigilante jumps just a bit at the unexpected question, an endearing sort of move. It takes him another minute to realize what you’re asking and by the time he speaks again, voice shaky from some emotion you can’t puzzle out with your brain so cold, you’ve reached the last location for the night. 

Well, in honest the Strange mural was supposed to be the only mural for the night but you’d been eyeing this side of a building for a while and Spiderman didn’t seem to want to be alone. You didn’t want to be alone either. 

“I used to.” The only noise other than his voice is the shaking of a can of paint. You’re far enough from the main streets that traffic is distant and everyone in the apartment buildings down the street are full of citizens either sleeping or pretending to so they don’t draw attention to themselves. “He seems strict but he means well.”

“Well he can mean well far away from me. Those portals of his freak me out.” You see the mask move, just a ghost of an expression beneath it but combined with the quiet exhale of breath its nice to pretend that he’s smiling. 

“You freak me out.” The comment holds no weight when he holds the can you hand him while you grab the next. Time passes slowly, like syrup dripping from a bottle. The blue is a shade brighter than you’d like, but with the red its still recognizable.

“So what’s really going on Webs?” He jumps again. It’s not as endearing this time but whatever trance he had fallen into is broken enough for him to hand you the red again. “I know I’m a delight to be around and all but if you sit any longer I’m going to be forced to ask you to help with this color blocking.”

“It’s my aunt’s birthday today.” Spiderman’s voice is small and there’s a morose tone about it that makes you uncomfortable. It wouldn’t if he were daredevil or hawkeye even but to hear your friendly neighborhood hero - because fuck the cops he was more of a hero than they were - sets your nerves on edge. 

Still, you don’t look at him, just keep pushing forwards with your art like you’ve always done.

“Oh, that’s great how old is she?” The silence is enough of an answer in and of itself. Spiderman stands just a touch too still next to you and the careful casualty of your companionship slips away when you’re not looking. His breath is quiet in the night but his sigh is not. The puddle at his feet ripples when the vigilante shifts, just enough movement for you to nod in assurance that you understood.

The silence ends up winding its way around the two of you like an affectionate cat may your ankles. The gentle hush of wind scraping over cement could be mistaken for a half hearted purr as Spiderman watches you pick up a can of green paint and begin to work again. 

“Do you want to talk about her?” He makes a bit of a startled noise, but doesn’t jump. Progress is progress you suppose. “I mean, I never met her so anything you wanted to share would be news to me.”

“I don’t know.” It never gets easier to see a hero casual, watch him turn his back to the wall you’re working on and lean against it like he’d just slipped out for a cigarette. It’s your turn to hum then, pausing in your work long enough to look where he’s curled his shoulders in, tucked his head down to his chest. 

The man feels cold when you rest your hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to webs, but if you wanted to reminisce on something happy I’d love to know about her. You could talk about her favorite flowers or your inside jokes. Talk about that annoying quirk of hers that you hated but miss now that she’s gone.” The words are soft as silk when you drape them on his shoulders. “I won’t push if you really don’t want to talk about it, but if you want someone to listen I’m in no hurry.”

Spiderman swallows hard, looks up at the sky, and speaks.

“She loved yellow Hibiscus flowers.” His voice sounds younger then it ever has. It’s easy to forget sometimes that he’s not much older than you are, that he just started showing up in the city a few years ago. 

“Really?” If the man doesn’t like your hand on his shoulder he’s made no move to voice his displeasure. The streetlights catch on the two of you and the cans of paint but not enough for you to make out an expression through the fabric with which to help direct your response. The careful curiosity seems the right choice though given he starts to speak again.

“Yeah, always tried to grow them on the windowsill of our apartment but a week into their lives they would start to wilt.” When he moves to crouch down you follow and your hand seems glued to the fabric for the amount of effort it takes you to pull it back to yourself. 

“Did it ever occur to you guys that the flowers might be wilting because they’re tropical plants and we’re in new york?” Somewhere in the distance a dog barks and it almost covers the noise of amusement that Spiderman lets out. 

“No I usually just blamed it on her cooking.” A picture starts to take shape as he speaks with fondness. One filled with warmth and color that fostered his sense of humor and likely his sense of right and wrong at the same time. “The landlord threatened to remove our fire alarms if she set them off one more time.”

“But I’ll bet she was funny, right?” You don’t say that she had to have been because she was related to the web head, that might be too personal. If there was one thing that Spiderman had made clear in his visits and talks with you it was that as friendly as he was he didn’t do personal very well. 

“She certainly thought she was.” The fragility is back and you’re sure that if you could see his face you would find a far off look in his eyes.

“Well so do you and your humor is hit or miss so-”

“Hey!” you’re rewarded for your humor with a gentle knocking of his shoulder against yours and an almost normal tone again. It had seemed right at the time to ask about his aunt but now grief had started to slip its way between your ribs. If not grief for her, than grief on Spiderman’s behalf. Grief at family lost, love unexpressed. You knew something about that last one in particular. 

You stand up first. It’s hard to sit with the pressure creeping in on your heart. The vigilante remains crouched at your feet as you go back to spraying colors onto the wall. light blues and yellows that look nothing short of flat compared to the shaded blobs of green. 

“What are you painting?” His voice isn’t as warm as usual but it’s better than when he made his doctor strange joke. 

“You’ll see.”

“I hate when you say that.” This time he rises and moves to stand behind you. If he had the urge to he could rest his head on your shoulder and watch you work you can feel his presence so close. You try not to think about what gloved hands would feel like on your hip or wrapped around your waist as you worked.

“Oh come on, I stand by my artwork.” There’s a crack in your voice as you try to focus on shaping the colors into something more recognizable. If the hero catches it he thankfully does not mention it.

“I know you do, you repainted the same Steve Rogers joke five times.” Spiderman’s teasing is enough to break the fluster that had taken hold of you. When you look over your shoulder at him, can in hand, you’re certain that he’s smiling back at you.

“I would have stopped at three if they hadn’t put it in the papers.” He laughs again and it sounds even better than before, smaller than usual but no less kind. He hadn’t followed you as you worked until a few pieces after that but apparently the hero had found an equal amount of amusement in the comparison of Rodgers to some sort of turtle. 

“I’ll let the bugle know next time I see them.” You turn back to your work and finally begin to do the outlining on the center of the piece. It used to make you nervous to start adding final touching with an audience but it was hard to sit still with webs so close to you. 

“Oh yeah that’ll go over well.” You murmur, “spider-menance consorts with local vandal. God he hates you.”

“Don’t remind me.” The man groans and then he does drop his head to rest on your shoulder, hiding his face in the material of your hoodie as his hands rest on your upper arms. It’s nothing more than a dramatic overreaction to thinking about the bugle, you know that logically. Your heart, however, does not and has ceased to beat at all at the sudden contact.

“Hey can I ask you a question?” You speak near instantly, desperate to distract him from the point of contact he was making with you and he way that even through the material of his mask and your hoodie you could feel the slope of his nose, could start to imagine what he may look like.

“Uhm, yeah?” the hero raises his head enough to rest just his chin on your shoulder, hands still loose on your upper arms. There’s a hesitance in his voice that makes you worried he’s going to pull away. 

“What?”

“Are you sleeping with that photographer that keeps taking your photo?” There’s a sputtering of noise that escapes him and when he does step back it’s clearly in shock. You miss his touch, but you take some sliver of delusional comfort in the idea that he felt comfortable to rest on you in the first place.

“That Peter something, he takes all the photos of you for the bugle? The internet is convinced you two are sleeping together since he’s the only one that can get you in any half decent shots.” It’s not the question most people would ask but it seems to have been the right choice again. You’d love to ask what he does for a living or to hear more about his aunt but it’s good to hear him laugh and stumble over his words like this was any other night.

“You have one of those?” There’s no glance over your shoulder but you’re certain that he does that familiar headshake that lets you know you’ve amused him but he doesn’t want you to know that. For someone with a mask, he’s always seemed like an open book. 

“No, no.” Not to mention that it means you can stop figuring out if you need to contact the photographer to try and weasle information out of him. There are so many landmines in conversation you don't realize are there until you've already stepped on them. “I mean don’t get me wrong I have nothing against the guy he’s just not my type. I only let him take photos because he always catches my good side.”

“Okay that’s it, I’m leaving.” The bulk of the painting is done enough for the hero to know that he’s made his way onto the wall again, but you’ve avoided doing the detail work on his surroundings. The same parts of you that feel deflated at his exit also take comfort in knowing that he’ll be surprised tomorrow when he sees the finished work. 

“Stay safe out there, okay?” Is all you can manage. You like to think that he hears the unspoken I care about you. I’m sorry for your loss. I hope you know that I’m here for you.

“Safe is my middle name,” His footsteps are slow as he moves down the street. “Make sure you head home soon, okay? If you get sick they might take the opportunity to paint over Steve again.”

“They wouldn’t dare.” His laugh disappears into the night far slower than he does. Long after the red and blue figure has slipped into the dark of night you can still hear it in your head, rich and real as it settles in you.

You hear it again in your head when the photos of your newest mural begin to circulate online. Including a particularly well shot photo by Peter Parker and an opening sentence by a writer you don’t care about aside from the fact that they misspell the scientific names for the hibiscus flowers and forget me nots that you so carefully detailed in the night.