#if u can decipher my handwriting.... ;; ^-^;;

[divinit3a]

<- um previous anon again i forgot to add on in the art section. i was also wondering how you go about picking colors/coloring in general, and rendering. sorry omfg ,,, 😭 sorry for the bajillion questions as well

Ahh no worries! I always love to yap about art >:3c ty ty for enabling me

Picking Colors Lean in for a secret. C'mere, psst... Colors can be whatever you want them to be! The first step is nailing down the values. After that, I prefer to alter the colors as I go. Hue/saturation sliders are great for testing palettes!

Coloring in General While coloring, I try to keep in mind the "balance." Which color is most prominent? Which color should be used sparingly as an accent?

Beyond that, I like to stick to limited palettes. I find that "digital color mixing" helps unify a piece.

I tend to lean on complimentary and split color palettes. . . ^-^; Along with this, I use gradient maps and adjustment layers! At the end of a piece, its fun to go in and add blur, soften edges with vignettes, play with value levels, etc. To get everything looking juuuust right u_o 👍 <3

Rendering Digital painting & I have been long-standing enemies. I've found that I prefer to color over a sketch rather than line it! I think of it as 'carving out' a drawing.

I try my very best to stay zoomed out, especially for the first pass of rendering. It's easy to get locked in on overworking one area (usually, for me, that's faces) and then realize you still have to turn a blob shape into a hand...🙊 Whoops?

Thank you again for enabling my yaps! 💚💚💚

[cloudsthatglowinthenightsky]

heard i missed a day specifically for making terrible comics... decided no i didn't. enjoy :3

[illbegottenfaith]

stuck with u

you get stuck in the Room of Requirement with a not-so-distant acquaintance and realise there's no where else you'd rather be (theo nott x reader)

all this loving you, hating you, wanting you...

a/n - ahh my first entry for hogmarch! I can't believe I'm finally writing a trope I used to devourrr as a (younger) teen and although 'stuck' tropes aren't my absolute favourites I like that I went for a little unconventional take on it :D I decided to blend the week 1 & 2 themes since im wayyy past the week 1 timeframe oops (midterms...) anyways this was so so fun to write cuz even 5 years on I love love loveee stuck with u ARGHH its so good so enjoy :)))

tropes/warnings - mutual pining, friends-ish to lovers, fluff, happy ending <3

word count - 2.5k

taglist - @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf

You’d never been one to stick around - not when it came to people.

You had friends. Plenty of them, in fact. You’re easy to get along with, know how to fill the silences with laughter. But close friendships - the kind where you let them actually know you, the kind where you let them in, let them see something real - those have been few and far between.

It wasn’t that you were afraid of people. You just didn’t trust easily.

Most friendships, to you, felt temporary. People drift in and out of each other’s lives all the time, and you’d never seen much use in pretending otherwise. You kept things surface-level, just enough to be friendly. But the moment someone gets too close, asking questions you don’t want to answer, you pull away. Create distance before they can even get the chance to disappoint you.

But then there’s Theo. And, for some reason, he’s the only person you’ve never managed to push away.

Not that you haven’t tried.

In your first year, when you tripped down the last few steps of the dungeon staircase and sent your books flying, it was Theo who had crouched beside you, silently gathering them up, not a single snide remark on his lips as 11-year-old boys were prone to hand out. No, all you got was a faint smirk as he handed them back to you without a word, all while you gaped gormlessly at him.

In your third year, when you missed a week of classes after a particularly vicious stomach bug, it was Theo who had slid his notes across the table in Potions, muttering “don’t ask me to explain any of it” out the corner of his mouth. All the same, with every mildly incoherent word in his slanted, cursive handwriting, he was surprisingly cooperative in deciphering it for you.

In your fourth year, when you got hexed in the middle of the corridor and spent the entire afternoon with bright green hair, it was Theo who had walked you to the Prefects’ Bathroom, rolling his eyes as he mumbled something about how he “might as well supervise” before you inevitably made it worse.

And this year - your last year - he’s always there.

You don’t understand it. You don’t have the kind of friendship where you confide in each other, where you talk about things that matter. But somehow, Theo always seems to be around when it matters - watching with those observant, calculating eyes of his, offering help without making a big deal out of it, like he knows you wouldn’t take it if he did.

It’s a running joke now - one you always throw at him with a grin. You just can’t get rid of me, huh?

And every time, he huffs a quiet laugh. Apparently not.

The next time you get stuck with him is over spring break. Naturally, all your friends wanted to do was laze around the Common Room, half-dozing. Eventually, someone proposed the brilliant idea of fetching a game for a little intellectual stimulation, like Uno. Unfortunately, no one wanted to actually get up to get it other than you and Theo.

“This isn’t going to work,” you said. You and Theo were standing in an empty corridor on one of the higher floors, one where the Room of Requirement was rumoured to appear. He shushed you impatiently, his eyes still screwed shut as he thought long and hard about a deck of uno cards.

You sighed, waiting for him to get this over with. This close, you could see every individual eyelash of his, all of which were unfairly long. Really, it was a waste of a beautiful feature on a perfectly mediocre boy.

He finally opened his eyes, which almost immediately found yours. You hadn’t realised you were standing so close to each other. For a brief moment, you were struck by how pretty his eyes were - marbled, watercolour eyes that lent a softness to his otherwise strong, harsh features. Momentarily speechless, you looked away, following his line of sight over your shoulder.

Well, I’ll be damned, you thought. A door. An actual door.

Sure enough, it opened to a narrow, cavernous room filled to the brim with every board game you could dream up. The two of you wandered in, weaving in and out of stacks upon stacks of games. Once you picked out a suitable deck of Uno cards, you both meandered back to the entrance. Or what was the entrance.

You turned the corner of a stack, back to where the entrance was, only to see Theo standing with his back to you, his face hidden, fingertips ghosting a blank stretch of stone.

“Theo,” you started, stating the complete obvious, “why is there wall where the door is supposed to be?”

"I don't believe it," you heard him mumble disbelievingly under his breath. "It was here just a moment ago."

"You lost the door?" you cried out. He was starting to look a little green around the gills, his eyes darting to the other walls. He gave a weak, unconvincing laugh.

"Don't be ridiculous."

“Do something, Theodore!”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder!”

Theo winced. “Quit yelling, would you?”

You sat down, slumped against the opposite wall, dragging a hand across your face. “Great. This is just perfect. We’re going to grow old and die and shrivel up in here and it’s all your fault.”

“My fault? If you had just waited by the door like I asked - ”

"You didn't tell me the door was going to disappear!"

"Yeah - well - it's never happened before." Theo dragged his hand out of his hair, now wildly sticking up in all directions, fingers trailing up the wall as if trying to feel for a hidden door. You scoffed.

"I told you we should have gone down to Hogsmeade to buy a deck, but no, you didn’t want to walk all that way.”

“Unlike you, I actually know how to work the Room.”

Theo turned just in time to dodge the Monopoly figurine you had hurled at his head.

"Then work it. Get us out of here."

--------

"Stop chucking things at me."

Grudgingly, you paused your assault. Half an hour ago, you had been ready to climb the walls and tear them down to get out of this place. Now, the craze had passed, so you settled for pelting Theo with all the tiny games figurines you could get your hands on while he paced wearily, trying to think of a solution.

“I’ll stop when we have an exit.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Theo turned back to the blank stone wall, muttering something under his breath as he pressed his palm against it. When nothing happened, he shoved both hands through his already-ruffled hair and swore under his breath.

Your eyes tracked his movements critically. “You have no idea how to get us out of here, do you?”

“Of course I do,” Theo shot back, a little too quickly.

"Right."

Five minutes later, he finally admitted defeat. He joined you where you were slumped in a corner, unsuccessfully trying to juggle the chess pieces. To your credit, you didn't say it, but your whole body language hummed with an undercurrent of I told you so.

"The Room's going to let us out when it wants to let us out," he said finally. "All we can do is wait till it feels like it."

He sounded so defeated you were starting to feel a little bad for being so hard on him. You sighed.

"I just can't believe we're stuck in here when everybody else is...you know, out there."

“Yes,” he said drily, “because there’s so many better places to we need to be. Merlin forbid we fall behind on our couch-rotting hours.”

You grinned as he picked up the deck of cards on your lap, starting to shuffle them.

"Might as well make the most of it while we're stuck here."

You raised your eyebrows as he started expertly manipulating the deck.

"Shuffling's the newest panty-dropper, eh?"

The corner of his mouth ticked upwards as his eyes remained fixed on the deck. "You'd be surprised."

You can practically see him puffing out his chest on the showier tricks he does with laser-focused concentration. It makes you want to laugh, his almost childish need to be impressive. To impress others. To impress you.

But, for reasons that eluded you, you were impressed. Not once had Theo ever let you down. It was as though he was incapable of it. You didn't exactly rely on him, but when he was around, his deep, self-assured voice was guaranteed to soothe your frazzled nerves. Even now, when all you wanted to do was bitch and moan about how you were never going to see the light of day again, he somehow managed to distract you, amuse you. Theo always knew how to turn a bad situation around and, well, to someone as catastrophic as you, what could sound more appealing?

Game after game, time began to blur. The cards whispered as they slid over each other in his hands, a hypnotic rhythm filling the silence between you. You let your head tilt back against the wall, exhaling slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little.

Your head lolled against your shoulder as you lazily watched Theo shuffle the cards for the umpteenth time.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you noted, tilting your head toward him.

He didn't look up from the cards. "A novel concept, I know."

You nudged him in the ribs and he gave an exaggerated wince.

"Watch it. There's no exit and I'm more than capable of beating your ass."

Theo laughed at that, openly and unabashed.

"You're going to beat my ass?"

"Just said I would, didn't I?"

Theo snorted, mumbling something somewhat affectionate under his breath. You turned away, hiding your grin. Your cheeks were pink and your eyes glittered with the thrill of being Theo's company - the only person who could keep up with you.

He continued shuffling the cards, a little slower now.

“I’m thinking.”

You looked back at him, once again interested. “Dangerous.”

He flicked a card at you without looking, and you batted it away with a grin. “Thinking about what?”

His shuffling slowed to a stop. “Nothing.”

“Oh, it’s something.” You leaned even closer to him now, your knees brushing against his thigh. “Something broody and dramatic, I bet. Come on, spill.”

Theo exhaled through his nose. “Drop it.”

“Not a chance,” you chirped. "Just tell me what it is. Unless you’re scared.”

That got him. His jaw ticked, fingers tapping on the deck.

“Didn’t peg you for a coward, Nott,” you goaded, bumping your knee against his. “You can tell me.”

Theo let out a slow breath, his shoulders tensing. He shuffled the deck once more, but this time, his movements weren’t just for show. They were measured, thoughtful, almost like he was buying himself time.

You covered his hands with yours, stopping him. He glanced down to where the two of you were practically holding hands.

“If I tell you something, you have to promise not to laugh.”

You nodded. "Did you kill a man."

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "No."

"Is it about the shuffling? Were you secretly roped into an underground gambling ring over the summer? Is that where you learnt all those tricks?"

You could tell he desperately wanted to smile but was stopping himself. "No," Theo said, his grip on your hand tightening.

"You started an underground gambling ring? Without me?"

"Do you ever shut up?"

You dropped your eyes to his crotch for a fraction of a second.

"Ach - not like t - that's not what I meant."

"I'm just messing with you." You ran a hand through his hair despite his desperate, one-handed attempts to bat you away. "Tell me already."

Theo hesitated. You became suddenly aware of how quiet the Room was. You felt an awful, sinking feeling in your stomach that maybe Theo was right. You weren't going to like what he had to say.

“I don’t mind being stuck here.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

He shifted beside you, tapping the deck of cards against his knee.

“I mean, yeah, it’s a bit ridiculous how we ended up here, but…” He trailed off, searching for the right words.

“It’s not the worst thing in the world. Being here. Being stuck here. With you.”

You stared at him. His eyes shone with that stupidly optimistic sincerity of his that you only saw glimpses of from time to time. He meant every single word.

His grip slackened. Wordlessly, you retracted your hand. How were you to bear this?

"You're right," you said in a voice thick with unshed tears. "That is absolutely ridiculous. It's downright - " your voice quivered. You brushed a hand across your eyes. "Downright laughable."

A sobering silence followed. You wondered if Theo was kicking himself for having opened his mouth in the first place. You wondered if you should say something.

"You really don't mind this?" you started hoarsely. You tilted your head to face him. "You don't mind me? I mean, I pelted you with Monopoly pieces while yelling abuse at you. I messed up your hair."

His mouth curved into that faint, breezy smile of his.

"'Course I don't mind it."

"Why not?" You should.

"'Cause it's you." It's you. It's always been you.

Your eyes fluttered shut. You felt the exhaustion of being trapped in here catching up to you. You rested your head on his clavicle. Hesitantly, he turned his head to press his lips to your temple.

"I have to be honest, Y/N," he muttered against your hair. "I don't know if we're getting out of here."

"S'alright." You pressed a tiny kiss to his shoulder. "There's nothing I'd rather than do, either."

It's what all this loving him, hating him, wanting him boiled down to. Interlacing his long, careful fingers with your own, you decided that yes, there was no one else you'd rather be stuck with.

[fallenprophets]

Stolen scarves

Ekko x reader

Summary: you've had a long day, and it's nowhere near over- all you want is some warmth from your favourite scarf. But when you find the scarf missing and a cryptic note, you will stop at nothing to retrieve it. ▸Set at an undefined time, no spoilers!!, no use of Y/N, gender neutral reader

Warnings: use of the word fuck, possibly suggestive if you squint and I mean SQUINT !

A/N: mostly wrote this for my best friend who has been a slut in my messages for this man (slash affectionate). enjoy all u other people

It’s been a long day running errands for the Firelights, and you’re pretty damn desperate for a nap. 

However, that won’t be happening for a long time. You still have outrageous amounts of tasks to complete, and you’ve agreed to do multiple favours for friends- one being a trip to the other side of the Undercity, which you are very much not looking forwards to. 

You sigh and run a hand through your hair, stepping into the Firelight sanctuary for a brief moment of peace. Although you are not yet able to lie down and go to sleep, you can still take a moment to relax your muscles (and find your scarf- it’s fucking freezing.) 

You see a small group crowded around a small fire (set up far away enough from the tree to not be any danger to it). You make your way over, waving at a Firelight on a hoverboard redoing the paint on the mural. You take a seat on a bench and stretch your legs out, groaning. God, you hadn’t realised how sore you were until now. You crack your neck, sighing. 

You give yourself a total of five minutes to relax before you’re up again. You head up into your room, located in one of the structures built into the tree. 

When you go in, you find your cupboard doors open. You feel no fear, no worry- no one could ever find this place; and besides, if they did, why would they go for your clothes? 

You rifle through the contents of your wardrobe for a moment, and, with a sinking heart, realise that your scarf is nowhere to be seen. You look again, upturning your clothes multiple times, before you give up, falling back onto your bed and pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes. 

“Motherfuckin’ shit,” you mutter to yourself. 

Once you have recovered from the absolute horror of your missing scarf, you sit up again- and spot a note on your desk. It’s pinned down by an adorable little owl, carved out of wood you suspect may have come from the suspicious chunk newly missing from your desk. 

You stand and walk over, carefully moving the owl and picking up the note. It takes a moment for you to decipher the monstrously bad handwriting, but when you do, you snort to yourself. 

I BORROWED your scarf 

Will return it soon, promise - 

♡

You shake your head at the note, chuckling incredulously. You could recognise that handwriting anywhere; as if the owl weren’t enough of an indication of who had stolen your scarf. You carefully lift the note and pin it to your wall, amongst a growing collection of similar notes. All signed with the same little heart. You put the owl in a miniature treasure chest, among an assortment of other wooden animals. (If he continues carving chunks out of your desk, you will soon have nothing left). 

You will borrow a scarf from a friend, you tell yourself, still smiling fondly. 

Once you have acquired a replacement scarf (from another Firelight, called Jem), you head out again, ready to carry on with your tasks. It takes a little longer than expected, but when you make it home, exhausted and soggy, your heart lifts. The tree, as always, is lit with golden lights. You can hear children laughing; Scar must be doing his weekly story time. You smile to yourself, unwrapping the scarf from around your neck- you must return it to Jem tomorrow, once you have reacquired your own. 

You make your way up to your room, shivering slightly in your wet clothes. Once the door is locked behind you, you make quick work of getting your clothes off (you discard them in a corner and swear to yourself that you will hang them out to dry later, which you won’t) and changing into something more casual and comfortable. Once you are done, you head outside again, wrapped now in a long black dressing gown coat thing that another Firelight half sewed, half knitted for you using scraps. It is fully dark, the area lit only by the soft gold and green lights scattered around the tree. Almost everyone is inside, in the warm. You are quick to join them, signing contently once you are back in the warmth. You spot Scar, now done with story time, and jog over to him, nudging him in the shoulder. 

“Hey,” you say softly, so as not to startle his daughter, who is snoozing in his lap, “have you seen Ekko?” “Our glorious leader?” Scar shakes his head. “No, I haven’t- but Annie said he was up in his room.” 

You nod and pat Scar on the back, smiling at him. “Thanks,” you murmur. He nods back, also smiling. You and Ekko think you’re so slick, keeping your relationship a secret, but the bounce in your step as you practically sprint towards Ekko’s room says everything he needs to know. 

At first, you plan on not knocking- just barge into his room, tackle him to the ground, steal the scarf back in a sneak attack.  However, as you get closer to the door, and as your heart warms, you decide to go with the peaceful approach. You knock and step back, putting on an official demeanor for anyone who might be passing. You are keeping this relationship a secret, after all. 

The door swings open, and you are greeted with the most beautiful boy of all time, wearing an extremely comfortable looking scarf. Your scarf; you’ll be damned if you don’t get that thing back. 

He steps aside, a silent invitation into his room. You smile at him cheekily as you pass, wrapping your fingers around the scarf. The door clicks shut behind you as you tug him over to you. “That,” you say, swerving out of the way as he tries to kiss you, “is my scarf.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answers, grinning and winding his arms around your waist. 

You scoff at him, playfully wounded. As you are opening your mouth to protest, he leans in, managing to kiss you. As always, it is soft; as always, it makes your legs turn to jelly and your stomach do strange little somersaults. You kiss him back, pulling him closer by the scarf still wound around his neck. 

“I want it back,” you whisper, and he laughs (the arrogant bastard), pulling you into a hug. You nuzzle into the soft fabric of the scarf, secretly wishing for his skin instead- you have found that the crook of his neck is a rather delightful place for you to kiss. 

“You smell like a wet dog,” he mumbles into your forehead, following the harsh words with a kiss. 

“Fuck you,” is your eloquent response. “Right now?” You can practically feel his smirk, so cocky, as he peppers kisses over your face. As he does so, you lean into him, carefully unwinding the scarf from around his neck. It’s a slow process (although your partner’s kisses make it bearable) but you finally manage to remove it completely. You hold it triumphantly over your head, aha!ing victoriously. He looks at you, somewhat incredulous, although he is grinning. You are quick to follow, wrapping your arms around his neck again. 

“Thief,” he whispers into your ear. 

“Is it stealing if it’s already mine?” You quip in response, laughing with him. He kisses right below your ear, and you almost melt into him. 

“Also,” you manage to say, although your voice is slightly shaky as he continues to kiss your neck, “you need to stop cutting chunks out of my desk. I need somewhere to write, you know.” 

“You can use mine,” he murmurs. His hands fall to your waist. “I’ll give you a key, come in anytime you want. Don’t even have to knock.” “Ekko,” you say, because you don’t have the words to tell him quite how much this means to you. You can’t really tell if this is his way of inviting you officially into his life, but if it is, God knows you accept. 

“I mean it,” he says. He’s stopped kissing you now, has pulled back to look at you properly. The way he is looking at you- it is somewhat similar to how he looks at the tree, full of love and maybe a little bit of pride. You make a note to tease him about it later. 

“They’ll all know,” are your words. 

“They already do,” he responds with a cheeky smile. You know he’s right. 

“Okay,” you say, softly, your smile widening. “Yeah, okay, I’ll take your key.” 

“Ah-“ his grin widens to, and he steps away from you completely. “There is one condition.”

You quirk an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Oh yeah? What’s that, owl boy?” 

He snorts at the nickname, mimicking your stance. “I get to keep the scarf.” 

Oh, the sly bastard. You should have known that he had some ulterior motive, some secret plan. 

“I should’ve known,” you whisper, placing the scarf over your heart. “I should’ve known you were going to stab me in the back.” 

He laughs at you- downright laughs, as if this isn’t the most earth-shattering thing ever. (You are holding in your own laugh, but he doesn’t need to know that). 

“Don’t laugh at me,” you cry. “Don’t- you dare-“ 

He is still laughing as he steps forwards, wrapping his arms around you once again and pulling you flush against him. You start to laugh, and you put your arms around his neck, tossing your head back. He snatches the scarf from your hands and wraps it around his neck, leaving a long extra part, which he then puts around your neck. Had you not been completely focused on how beautiful he looks, and how happy you are, you would have worried about the possible health hazards of this. He kisses you, drawing you in, pushing you softly towards the bed. You kiss back, cupping his face in your hands, your breath catching in your throat. He turns then, sitting down on the bed. You make quick work of unwinding the scarf again, tossing it to the side as you join him on the bed. You giggle as you both tumble down, so you are lying on top of him, your hair all in his face. You pepper his face with kisses, like he did to you, and he is grinning so widely it makes your chest hurt a little. And then you’re kissing again, his mouth on yours, his hands on your back, pulling you always closer. 

At some point, this stops, and you find yourself lying facing him in the small bed, pressed close to each other. Your forehead is against his, and you are just looking- looking in a way that you were unable to before you two became a thing. Staring without shame, taking in every detail of his face. The traces of white paint still on his face, the way his eyes are half shut as he looks at you with the same attention. His arm is flopped lazily around your waist, toying lightly with the fabric of your shirt. 

“You can keep the scarf,” you whisper to him, and he smiles in a way that makes you immediately bridge the tiny gap between you two and press your mouth to his once again. 

You stay like that for a while, lying so close to each other you may as well be one, whispering to each other and kissing. You feel like a teenager- or at least, what you imagine a Piltie teenager might feel like, with their first ever school crush- with the butterflies in your stomach and the erratic beating of your heart. At some point, he puts his fingers over your pulse and holds them there, breathing in time with your heartbeat. You drift off then, slipping in and out of sleep for the next few hours. 

When you wake, it’s still night. You nudge Ekko, and he groggily opens his eyes, immediately on alert. You smile at him, reassuringly tracing his cheekbone. 

“I should go,” you whisper, although you really really don’t want to. 

He shakes his head at you. “No,” he grumbles, his voice rough with sleep. 

“Yes,” you murmur. “The walk of shame is my favourite part of being with you,” you add playfully. 

“Stay,” he whispers. His eyes are closing, and you know there’s no arguing. 

You wait, count sixty seconds in your head, before you kiss his forehead, smiling to yourself. “Alright,” you murmur to yourself more than to him, “I’ll stay.” 

[rubiehart]

hi! ‘m not sure if you’re taking requests rn but i had this thought of jj x waitress!reader, like she’s just trying to take their order and he won’t stop flirting with her. love love love your work!!

i think this request has been sitting in my inbox for over two months i’m soo sorry i’m only just getting to it now. love u nonnie!

you’re working the bar, turns out bussin tables wasn’t your strong suit when the locals would get a little too persistent towards you and you’d go off, snarky little comments that’s just piss them off in turn, you just couldn’t help it.

it’s another gloomy day at work, wiping the counter with some dirty rag that was probably doing more harm than good, but it was just so boring, until the little bell rings above the door signaling an enterance of someone new, eyes springing up from the counter as the boy walks in.

he was cute, fairly buff, red cap rested atop his sun damaged blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, you did a double take and sharply looked away when he began walking towards you, reaching for a glass and cleaning it with the same rag, as he sinks down into the bar stool directly in-front of you. “that rag don’t look very sanitary to me.” he smirks, waiting for you to catch his eye but you don’t. “no shit.” you mumble, internally rolling your eyes but refraining.

“woah.” he chuckles putting his hands up in surrender, which only makes you more pissed. “got a little fire in you, my bad.” you just flick your eyes up to him, clearly unamused. “what do you want?” slamming the glass down onto the beer mat, resting one hand on the beer taps.

“bold of you to assume i want a beer.” he shrugs, not loosing his playful tone even after being shot down so many times, you’ve gotta applaud his confidence. “so natty light?” you ask, fed up of his antics as his smirk only grows wider. "another assumption.” he assess.

“listen, you look poor, natty light’s target consumer. so yes or no?” you ask, and he scoffs. “natty light please.” and you nod, bending down to grab one from the fridge under the counter. you slide it across to him and he hands you a pile of coins, you roll your eyes and start counting it.

he cracks open the tab and takes a long sip before speaking again. “so, what’s a pretty girl like you doin’ working’ at this shit shack?” he leans forward, flashing that charming smile. “what’s it to y’a?” you mumble and he hisses. “you’re stubborn.” he adds and you nod. “y’a think?” you ask sarcastically and he smiles, before you look at him again.

“you’re 25 cents short.” you nod towards the pile of coins, he tongues the cut on his lip and sighs. “tell you what? consider this payment.” he says before reaching for your hand, turning it over and scrawling something on your palm, dropping the pen onto the counter top and winking, taking the can with him before the bell above the door rings again fo signal his departure before you can even get a word of protest in.

he’d written his number on your palm, in possibly the worst handwriting you’d ever seen, wondering how you were gonna decipher this shit later. you finally let the smile creep onto your face that you’d been holding, you were calling, no doubt about it.

[ahqkas]

hey i have a request! can you do theo/mattheo with a dyslexic reader? like how they would help you and how they would help your mind clear🔥. thanks if you do, if you don’t no biggie!

NOTES! hi ml i hope it’s what you were looking for && thank u for the request 🫶🏻

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THEODORE was always observant, noticing things about you that others often overlooked. when you first confided in him about your dyslexia, it wasn’t because he asked directly, but rather because he’d noticed how you hesitated whenever you had to read aloud in class, or how your notes were sometimes a jumble of letters and words that didn’t quite fit together.

“it’s not that i can’t read,” you’d explained one evening in the library, your voice low, barely above a whisper. “it just . . . gets all mixed up sometimes. it’s like my brain sees the letters, but they don’t always make sense.”

he didn’t respond immediately, which at first made you anxious, but when you finally gathered the courage to look at him, you found no judgment in his eyes — only understanding. theo was silent for a moment, processing what you’d shared. then, he nodded slowly, as if he’d just pieced together a part of the puzzle that was you.

“how can i help?” he asked simply, his voice gentle, as though he were afraid of overwhelming you.

from that day on, theo made it his mission to support you in ways that felt natural and unforced. when it came to reading, he never pushed you to do it aloud, but instead, offered to read to you, his voice calm and steady, making the words on the page come alive. whenever you wanted to try reading something yourself, he would sit beside you, patient and attentive, ready to help if you stumbled over a word or lost your place.

he even started writing notes in simpler, clearer handwriting, knowing that the usual cursive or fast scrawl many students used could be harder for you to decipher. his notes were always clean and organized, with extra spaces between lines to make it easier for your eyes to follow.

theo also helped you find strategies to cope with the difficulties. he suggested using colored overlays for your textbooks, something he’d read about somewhere. at first, you were skeptical, but when you tried it, the colors helped the letters stay in place, making it easier for your brain to process the information. he never made a big deal about it, just handed you the overlays one day without a word, and when you thanked him later, he just shrugged and smiled as if it was nothing.

when studying felt overwhelming, he’d suggest taking a break, pulling out a book of poetry or short stories that he knew you liked. he would read to you in that soft, calming tone of his, the words flowing easily from his lips, allowing you to focus on the rhythm and sound of the language rather than the struggle of reading it yourself.

MATTHEO knew you were bright, your mind sharp as a blade, but he also saw the frustration lining your eyes whenever you were handed a text-heavy assignment. you’d never mentioned it to him personally, preferring to deal with it on your own.

you sat in the quiet corner of the library and the weight of your frustration was palpable. the words on the page were a blur, a tangled mess of letters that refused to cooperate no matter how hard you tried. the more you stared, the more your mind seemed to rebel.

your boyfriend, sitting across from you, noticed the tension in your shoulders and the way your fingers gripped the edge of the table. he’d been watching you for a while, recognizing the signs of your struggle. without a word, he reached over and gently covered your hand with his, his touch warm and grounding.

"you’re doing it again," he said softly, his voice cutting through the fog in your mind.

you looked up at him, your eyes tired and defeated. "doing what?"

"trying to force it," he replied, his thumb tracing a small circle on the back of your hand. "you're not giving yourself a chance to breathe."

you sighed, pulling your hand away to rub your temples. "it just feels like i should be able to do this, you know? like, everyone else can read without it being such a hassle."

"everyone else isn't you," mattheo pointed out, his tone calm but firm. "and that’s not a bad thing."

"i know," you muttered, glancing down at the book in front of you. "but it doesn't make it any less frustrating."

he leaned back in his chair, studying you with those intense, thoughtful eyes of his. "what if we try something different?" he suggested. "take it one step at a time, like we’ve been doing."

you met his gaze, searching for any hint of pity or condescension, but found none. all you saw was his steady resolve, his quiet determination to help you however he could.

"i just feel like i’m wasting your time," you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "like, you shouldn’t have to —"

"hey," mattheo interrupted, his voice gentle but insistent. "you’re not wasting my time. if anything, i’m glad i can be here for you. we’re in this together, remember?"

[radioactive-earthshine]

Hi!! In Impulse (1995) #1 Bart has to write a biography for school and I can’t for the life of me decipher all of the words because I can’t read the handwriting! Do u know what is written? Can u help a gal out?

^ ^

>•<

(I tried to make a cat emoticon😭)

The boy writes in cursive, I guess they don't teach how to write that anymore, which is ironic because my 5th grade teacher in 1999 told all of us we would never amount to anything if we couldn't write in cursive and the whole world revolved around cursive, then the second I was in middle school our teachers snarled if they saw ANY hand written paper they would give us an immediate F and everything had to be typed 🙃

ANYWAY. Here are the pages, and the translation.

Oh.

My name is Bart. I hope my spelling's okay.

I just learned to write this morning...

I'm not from around here. Big time.

I come from a thousand years in the future, and though my story is full of people I don't know, this is how it was told to me.

I'm the grandson of a man named Barry Allen, a 20th century hero who had super speed.

Just before he died, Granpa Barry and his wife, Iris, moved to the 30th century and started a family.

Eventually, their kids died too ... but not before I came along.

Apparently, I was born with Grandpa's speed -- and a mega-metaloblism metabolism.

It was whacked. They say I was aging at hyper-speed. At two, I looked twelve.

I'd still be two in the head if the scientists hadn't plugged it with virtual reality.

So my world was unusual. Who could tell? All I knew was that I made the rules (and learned whatever I needed to feel kinda kind of normal).

Other than that, I don't remember much about it...

...except the day it went away.

They tell me I would've died of old age -- literally -- waiting for Earthgov to fix my problem.

But Grandma Iris never gave up on me. She took me away...

... and brought me back to this century so her nephew Wally --

-- you call him The Flash --

-- could show me how to control my speed.

Some teacher.

He gave me some whoop about tempering my power...

...so I could stop the aging...

...run wherever I wanted...

...and even vibrate through solid objects.

I probably could have been more grateful.

But Wally played me like a

a

like whatever you guys play in this era...

All the time I helped him fight to keep Kobra from taking over Keystone, Wally thought he was gonna going to die. So he groomed me to be Flash Mark IV.

And then he went and didn't die.

Which meant nobody knew what to do with me.

I wanted to stay with Iris. She's the only one who ever really

But that didn't work out.

So instead, Wally used his connections to set me up with personal creds

identity papers...

...and shipped me off to live with... get this... Max Mercury. Yes. The old hero-guy who helped us beat Kobra.

I'm still wondering what I did to deserve that.

The man is one weird flavor, Wally keeps calling him the zen master of speed...

...but I never see him run!

He spends his time watching me, like he expects me to develop into something!

And he never answers my questions... not directly, anyway! It's like he's not human! And let's talk about smug! He

/end

Hope this helps!

[howlsofbloodhounds]

How do u think the chromatic crew's handwriting would be like?

I think Color’s handwriting would be really really bad, particularly in the very beginning—when he’s not only adjusting to using pens and pencils again, but adjusting to only have one eye and adjusting to seeing in different types of lighting after having gotten used to the conditions of the Void—but im also considering the possibility that, when in Color is filled with Perseverance, there’s noticeable change in his handwriting.

This is the same when he’s filled with the other soul traits of course, such as become more like a young child’s handwriting when filled with Kindness, but I bring up Perse specifically because my thoughts keep circling back to an ask I got about if Color would be effected by or have any disorders or conditions that any of the souls might’ve had when they were alive.

And while I was copying the Wikipedia pages for every canon thing we know about the six souls, their items and everything, down into a little journal notes app thingy for later use; I came across the fact that the notebook’s handwriting is stated to contain “illegible scrawls” when checked. Meaning the handwriting is very hard to read.

This could be for many reasons, of course. The passage of time and a natural wear and tear of exposure to the elements, of course. The fact that the child with the Perseverance soul was a child. They could’ve been writing very quickly; out of fear, frustration, in a hurry, maybe quickly wanting to write everything down before forgotten or as they happened.

But there’s also the fact that another item associated with this soul are the cloudy glasses, said to be marred with wear. The fact they needed glasses suggests problems with eyesight, and if the glasses were marred by the time they were writing in the notebook, would explain bad handwriting as well.

So problems with eyesight whenever Color is filled with Perseverance is one thing he could struggle with that makes his handwriting decrease, even as his own handwriting abilities—which were effected by his lack of much need for such skills, lack of access to the tools needed for writing (besides maybe Patience’s spinning knives?) as well as his physical disability—increased and approved with time and practice.

Another thing I considered awhile back when discussing the idea of Abyss!Sans being dyslexic with a friend on Discord is: what if, not only did Perse have problems with eye sight when they were alive, but what if they had dysgraphia?

Dysgraphia is a neurological disorder that impacts a person's ability to write and produce written language.

It's also known as a specific learning disorder in written expression. Dysgraphia can affect handwriting, spelling, grammar, punctuation, and the organization of written work. It can also impact the ability to recognize and decipher written words, and the relationship between letter forms and sounds.

One of the many signs and symptoms of dysgraphia is even stated to be poor or illegible handwriting.

So i think Color’s handwriting can noticeably get worse when he is filled with Perseverance, because of Perse’s poor eyesight and possible dysgraphia, but also when influenced by younger souls like Ness and Pat.

I think Delta’s handwriting can noticeably change as well, due to Beta, but I do think his handwriting is actually rather easy to read when you read notes about his work related stuff—equations, math, things like that. It’s when he’s writing things about like, grocery lists, that it’s less written with care and he’s just writing however he pleases.

I feel like Killer’s handwriting has potential to also be affected by his eyesight, or lack thereof—as well as tremors or cramps in his hands. He and Color very likely can and do write in Arabic—and this is possibly how they’re used to writing if this was how they were taught.

They are likely more used to writing right to left, and that is likely to show itself even when they’re both writing in English and trying to write left to right. His and Color’s handwritings may seem more fluid and connected, or semi cursive.

Color and Killer, when writing in English, may also struggle with things like capitals, uppercase and lowercase letters because (according to Google at least) Arabic script does not typically require lowercase or uppercase letters. There are also things like pressure, stroke styles, different punctuation rules, etc.

I’m not sure why exactly, but I feel like Epic is pretty good at reading and writing in cursive. I haven’t completely finished reading everything on his and Cross’ canon materials just yet, but Epic’s handwritings is likely influenced by his scientific background; Cross’ royal guard background may also play a factor for him as well.

[bainutwater85]

prop: you 2 imitate each other no matter what. Denki is always awestruck when you step around him ≧▂≦

notes: you both crush on each other but you think the feelings aren’t reciprocated even tho it’s so obvious to everyone else that you 2 have it out for each other

cw: sweetheart!yn, nervous&awkward denki. y/n has braces!

“y/nn!!” you turn to look behind you, all you seen was you friend in a crowd of people as he excitedly pushed them out the way to get to you. With a warm and cheesy smile you open your arms to hug him! you hadn’t seen him outside of school due to exams and trainings and being busy of course with your job. Engulfing each other in tight hug— he squeezed you hard like you were gonna melt in his arms like puddy; tapping his back to let him know it’s time to let go.

with a smile he hooked his arm around yours and walked you to class. All you could do was smile and feel warm inside, finally seeing the person you know and love the most!.

in class there’s a project, you didn’t need to worry about finding a partner because denki automatically volunteered to be yours ≧ω≦. Talking him through the work and helping with the hard and difficult questions— you could see him staring out your peripheral vision; your cheeks got hot and you started to sweat a bit, palms getting sweaty. “denki, i can see you staring!” you exclaimed softly. he chuckles a bit before responding “that pimples looks ready to be popped..let me pop it!” your jaw dropped and eyes furrowed as you smacked his hand away from your face. “no way!” you pouted while he laughed in your face. Mr. Aizawa standing right behind you two as you go at it.

the you and denki stopped laughing, stopped playing around when you felt and cold presence breathing down your neck. Simultaneously, you and denki both turned just to see the sight of your teacher- glaring you both down. Detention. yeah that SUCKS. it was no better when sero, mina and kirishima were laughing at you both!

the room was still and quiet besides the occasional sound of paper flipping and the squeek of the dry erase marker in the board. You looked quite pissed as denki struggled and groaned at his missing work assignments, which you’ve already completed. You had a choice to read a book or clean and you picked neither. As you were about to lay your head down, a paper ball hit you in the head! you turned around and glared at denki before picking up the paper.

“cOd whEn wE gEt hoMe?” in the most sloppiest handwriting ever. It took you a minute to decipher if his E’s were actually 3’s.

“sure, but that’s only if i don’t get in trouble when i get home! if i do i’m totally blaming this on you >:(“

“ur daD is cool tho >B) he shOulndt grouNd u!”

“yeah maybe.., i’m hungry. you got any snacks pookie?”

Denki reaches in his backpack and gives you a chocolate bar and the rest of his soda pop. You almost foamed at the mouth and thanked him so much before turning around and finishing your 30mins of detention.

30mins later your waiting for denki at the door because he can’t seem to find his airpods. “oh denki! i have them i forgot they were in my pocket” you say while walking out the door, him trailing behind you with a sigh of relief “thank god, i was about to flip out !” chuckling you say “you gave them to me in 2nd period”. As you were about to cross the road off campus, denki grabs your hand and pulls you back “hold on! we have to make sure no cars are coming” he pulls you close to his side putting and arm on your shoulder as cars pass by. “Maybe we should just take the bus?” you suggest “Um, does it look like have bus money y/n” he says sarcastically, laughing. A smile purses across your face; a feeling in your stomach that makes you happier than usual.

He held your hand all the the way to your house until he was about leave to go home himself but got freaked out by the neighbors dog and ran into your arms practically jumping on you “agh! denki!” you yell as he almost knocks you down. “That dog is on a leash! it won’t do nothing to you-“ “AHH i don’t care just open the door ! i’ll have my mom pick me up”

with that you brought him into your house, choking and waiting his mom. When she pulled up into the drive way you walked him out saying your byes and se you layers before he turned around and pressed his lips agaisnt your forhead. never have you smiled so wide, your rubber bands on your braces could little pop off the brackets rn by how hard you were smiling.

[good-vs-evo]

oooh i was just tryna find some huayin content because i was bored and a little tired and wanted to cheer myself up AND GUESS WHAT

i thought tumblr was a safe place for me to be insane and queer and have a good time w my silly little rarepairs and polycules and hcs

but apparently. i can't ask for one place to be silly lmao there are ppl on tumblr still being like haters... for ships they could easily avoid? and putting it... under the huayin tag? which is, you know. the uh. the intention is kind of confusing. esp since ppl search up that tag w the intent to consume content related to their personal interests and probably don't want to see ppl hating on what they enjoy in the process <3

once again i don't really see the point in so avidly hating a ship that ur tagging it... in hopes that ppl who ship it will see it? because... they're ppl who ship it... and will likely not agree w u... and will likely just see u as another hater... and either ignore or fight and like where will that get anyone? sincerely? and hating an artist so much like w so much passion i think there are better things in life to do such as: find an artist u do like and move on!!

but i digress i just. i wanted to make a lil post w my hcs for them bc i <3 huayin hehe

reusing some from my long post abt all the rarepairs and polycules i ship!

hua cheng rarely got sick, but when he did, he wasn't worried (he knew yin yu would take good care of him)

both yin yu and hua cheng know how to cook, so they make each other meals when they know the other is too busy to remember to cook for themselves

yin yu can read hua cheng's handwriting! possibly the only person on heaven, hell, and earth who can, he's really used to seeing his messy scribbles and has learned how to decipher them

hua cheng was kind of a xie lian gatekeeper for a while, but he regaled yin yu with stories and let yin yu into his temple dedicated to xie lian

e'ming trusts yin yu and likes him to equal levels to xie lian

they have some little odd creatures of mysterious background that they keep and raise together in paradise mansion

yin yu asked hua cheng to teach him how to draw and paint and hua cheng has little lessons for him when they're both free

yin yu's interested in different kinds of masks, so hua cheng gifted him a room and funds to invest in new ones

they have chill time once a month when they're required to leave their work to just spend an entire day together

hua cheng's love language to yin yu is acts of service and gift giving

yin yu's love language to hua cheng is acts of service (no wayyy) and touch

hope u enjoy :) and also wishing u a nice day :D

[alelelesimz]

here are my favorite things i did this year :) thank you for tagging me @madeofcc <3

i was just gonna make a simple post and for some reason i decided to make this whole thing i guess, even features my stupid handwriting lol. everything written above + some more thoughts down below so you don't have to decipher whatever i wrote, also links to everything. thanks for following my messy blog and allowing me to rant about splatoon every other day lmao love u friends

harmony my beloved

i love splatoon ok! i've tried to recreate a few different splatoon characters before but they don't really translate well to sims. however i love how my harmony turned out! she's my fav character in the game and i'm quite proud of this funky little edit :)

leaf carrying a plant she stole

as soon as i saw that pose i knew i had to use it with my girl leaf! simple edit, but very cute <3 i wanna post more about my nymph!!!!!

what is this? a crossover episode????????

bojack horseman is my fav show ever. when i saw the horse pack trailer i KNEW i had to make this silly joke :p i didn't expect it to get so much attention but i'm glad it did! fun facts: 1) i painted bojack's face in game but basically redid the whole thing in photoshop bc sims textures are uh bad. 2) i recolored pc's dress and god i wish i could've made something better lmao. 3) i converted mr. pb's glasses and i SUFFERED. they actually look terrible ingame but ✨photoshop magic✨

this edit of an alien oc that i need to name still

i don't really use alpha hairs but ain't this one cute?! and i love this edit! if you read this give me a name suggestion for this sim please

YES THAT'S HAPPENING

I LOVE JUNO BIRCH!!! i literally need to stop myself from making another juno post every time she posts anything online lol. but that hot dog costume is iconic, what can i say.

sims in the city, baby + everything i made about them

i've been wanting to recreate these guys ever since i joined simblr back in 2019 (jesus christ) and i finally did! i'm very proud of them and happy so many people like them :) i loved this game growing up but none of my friends played it, so it's really cool to see more people who played it too!

also, that roxanna moxie lookbook i did? peak fashion

GRAP3FRUIT!

these guys!!!!!!!!! i really wanted to make a silly little band since forever and kari's edgewave fest finally pushed me to make them and I LOVE THEM! i can't wait to keep making more stuff with them babyyyyyyyyaskldjalskhdfklasj

[starlovincowboy]

Gravity Falls but dipper has dyslexia and can barley read ford's handwriting.

Like I think it'd be so funny bc a lot of ppl like to say stan has dyslexia but what if dipper (the dork who likes to read) does and he's over here not only trying to decipher these fuckass codes but also ford's cursive handwriting and stressing tf out over it.

Especially in like dire situations when they're under like gnome attack or smth and he's like "WHAT DOES THIS EVEN SAY???"

I just think it'd be neat guys ok

Pls tell me u guys understand my vision

[badchoicemakingkennie]

K so I saw these carpet gears on roblox and went 'Why don't I make them as phighting OCS?' so here:

(Shes the mother of all the others btw)

U can try n decipher my bad handwriting

This guy, he likes butterflies

Idk why but I got those vibes from him

It says 'emo' but I based them on scene....

Srry for that please don't gang up on me and turn me into a frog

They r best friends with the beige one :3

Please ignore the doodle in the corner🙏🙏🙏

I like how I did their hat :3

She is ill and gonna die😊😊😊 that's all I'll say about her

She also wears the necklace as her mom

I love this one sm welcome home oc vibes lol

They r the first one i designed

I'll add more on their lore later

[sixthear]

𝓕 ❒

𝓕 : My muse’s handwriting. (Is it good, bad, difficult to decipher, do they prefer writing by hand or with the help of some form of machine, e.t.c.) 

First I would like to say I put way more thought than necessary into what form of script Liu'er even uses due to being from around, like, mid Zhou dynasty and a mostly culturally isolated island. Then I thought about how Shihou probably brought back with him knowledge of more mainstream script variants from the mainland when he returned from training with Patriarch Subodhi, and taught that to the other monkeys as well.

Assuming that MHW's timeline doesn't... Follow the actual amount of time it took to do things in the novel (it probably doesn't, it's basically its own timeline and both Liu'er and Shihou are still portrayed as, at most, the equivalent of 14-16 y/o by the end of the show.)

So I eventually settled on; "well, Liu'er's handwriting probably looks like older examples of seal script (you can see a more "modern" style of seal script below)

So then I was like "well, liu'er is that extra." So I like to imagine he's like that one student who spends a lot of time making sure his characters are relatively nice and neat. And then, like most young writers have done at some point, if he's not trying to communicate something urgent, it probably ends up looking a lot like purple prose with as many fancy words and long flowing sentences because he wants to come across as super cool and mature. we're all writers on tumblr dot com so i think u can get the vibe i'm trying to describe here. he probably adds some extra "tails" and "swirls" to his characters to make them seem fancier, too, almost like bird-worm scripts. on top of that his word choice iiiiis likely rather archaic and Would be hard for any modern person to understand easily without Isola's wonderful magical translator. i'm sure whoever designed the spell/program is having a wonderful time.

speaking of modern stuff liu'er is still not very tech savvy so he absolutely prefers old fashioned ink on paper. probably prefers brushes over pens just because the weight of ink feels so drastically different (and results in different line weights, too, which he doesn't like. he's nitpicky.)

i was gonna write smth on both headcanon asks but this one got so LONG orz so i'm ending it here.

[icarus-does-fall]

Chapter four >:) this is technically a two part chapter cause gay people lmao

It's also really fucking long 😅

Ashes to ashes

Kain was forced to write his apology letter to Michael. The previous day those two were left to their own devices and a fight had broken out, they both had gotten fairly injured and Kain had bitten Michaels shoulder… leading to future problems. By the end of their fight the two were encased in darkness thanks to Michaels powers, Kain was slightly burned due to forgetting his own control, yet he didn't feel the pain it brought, and Michaels uniform was fairly torn up. And before any more serious damage could happen the two were pulled apart. Michael being dragged back to the cathedral by Mary and Socks dragging Kain away back to the ship.

Michael was grounded for a lack of better words. No longer dressed in his robes, he was wearing slacks and a plain black shirt and priest collar. He was restrained to the Cathedrals grounds and had to clean its entirety, once it was all clean he would be allowed out in public again. Yet on top of having to clean the Cathedral and its grounds Michael had also received lashings from Keir, it was a usual occurrence whenever he broke a rule and very early on in his life he took on Mary's lashings as well, he was going to protect his sister at any given cost, even if it meant more pain for him, the veil was lifted quickly and he saw Keir and the church for who they were very quickly but he would never leave. Not without Mary, yey she was hopelessly devoted to her work, so Michael tried his best to follow her.

Kain had stumbled back onto the ship battered, bruised and bleeding. The worry spiked through the crew as they all saw him yet Kain simply brushed them aside and collapsed onto an empty chair. He gotten his rest and healed up just fine, yet when he was bullied into breakfast by Salvador, Socks bullied him into writing an apology letter, but Kain much to his prideful and illiterate self struggled and the apology turned more into a “sory I bited you but youe stil a dick an u started the fight cause u got mad by my existing” type of letter. Now with the letter in hand he headed off to give it to Michael, much to his displeasure as he ignored why his heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing the annoying priest again.

As Kain made his way to the cathedral and knocked on the doors, Michael halted from the inside. There were no scheduled visitors for the day and for this specific cathedral no one often chose to go there to seek comfort, it was more out of the way then everything else. A few knocks later Michael opened the door, just to see Kain and to have a letter immediately shoved into his hands. The two stood in silence for a few moments as Michael read.

The cathedral itself was an old stone building, its doors were a dark oak mahogany, the floors a black marble. Organ music playing on a never ending loop, there were vines crawling up the sides of the walls and stained glass windows around every corner. The inside was bright and gave a comforting atmosphere, the shadows, the way they flickered out of tune with the candles, the way things seemed to be sharper if only glanced at from the corner of your eye gave way to darker things that happened.

It took a moment or two for Michael to decipher the writings of Kains handwriting, it was near illegible but he managed and then grinned wryly with a raised eyebrow as he tucked the letter away into his pocket. Kain looked pissed at that reaction and glared all the same.

“This is certainly an unexpected surprise, I wouldnt think you would step close to me- let alone a church, however I must say it certainly? Or read?”

Kains glare heightened and he scowled, his face flushing bright red at the implications, no matter how accurate they were. “I was bullied into this, dont think youre all that special! And- And yeah! Obviously I can! Everyone can read, Im not fuckin stupid, cause I’ll have you know Im smart as fuck!”

“My apologies, I did not mean any offence by the question… Yet there is no shame in not knowing, not truly everyone knows the language they speak… I-” Michael paused for a moment before begrudgingly he sighed and opened the door to the cathedral further to allow Kain access if he so chose to accept his offer. “I understand you have a dislike of the church yet, the church can help…- I could help you learn how to write if you'd like.”

Kain paused, staring silently at Michael for what seemed like an eternity before eventually replying. “And you wouldn't tell anybody?”

“Of course not, if not anything else I am certainly a man of my word, of my promises.”

Kain scrunched his nose in response but sighed none the less before pointing a finger towards Michael and poking him in the chest. “Fine, I'll take the writing lessons… but if I find out you breathed a word of this to anyone I will skin you and turn you into a leather coat, got it?”

Michael waved his hand dismissively at the threat and rolled his eyes as he led Kain into the cathedral. “Yes, yes I do understand how interactions with you work, I've had enough of them at this point… However, leather of all things? That would simply be a waste, I have fur.”

Kain grinned and laughed as he followed Michael inside, his eyes roaming over the interior. Much to his annoyance it was a beautiful space, not as bloody or in ruin as most of the churches he’d been in. "That's the point, no dignity in death and all that yeah?"

Michael gave Kain a flat, unamused look before a hint of a smirk found its way towards his face as he led the way to an empty table to begin the work and lesson. “Hmm... Well writing lessons yes? What do you know that will help with the basics?”

"Uhhhhh I kinda know how to sound things out I guess? And I can rember most of the letters off the top of my head s'just hard to put them togther on the paper and make em look nice.....and I know how ta read most of the smaller words and the commen words i guess”

Kain paused for a moment before he continued speaking, “this church, it isn't as bloody as the ones im used to seeing an’ bein in”

He nods along as Kain speaks about what he knows how to write while leading him to a small alcove with a writing desk with cushioned benches, he seemed to glance over the fact that Kain was used to bloody churches. “Yes, the cathedral is typically kept in top shape... The high priest likes his rules... Except for when I walked in earlier the other today, I believe that was the most... messy it had been in here for quite some time.”

"Ah fair, yeah no the place I used to uh .....attend, was a lot less caring about keeping up appearances"

“Yes well... appearances tend to mean a lot to those that reside here, I have never quite understood the extent they take it.”

" Yeah.. I guess the place I grew up didn't get many visitors who didn't already live there so there was no need to impress anyone, plus most of the sermons tended to be bloody so there was no real point in cleaning the blood anyway”

Michael paused for a moment as he was taking out parchment and the ink to write with it, at that comment he was finally get curious about why blood ket being mentioned and simply stared at Kain for a few moments “What- And excuse me for being so blunt yet, what type of sermons were you attending? Even while the old ones can be a bit... unorthodox at times there's never been blood shed in a church over those preachings.”

“Not ones I participated in willingly let me tell you that!" Kain laughed before stopping and his face went serious "But uh.... ever uh..... ever heard of the blood god?" He sighed and looked away from Michael. "They're a uh......a....um....roge.....god.....”

“Then blood certainly would make sense... They're a bit demanding from the little I know of them, they're not talked much about per the high priest's request however and I've... Well, I've been here for the majority of my life. Never really allowed to explore life outside the cathedral.”

Kain seemed surprised at Michael's reaction. "You're not wigged out by that? That I have attended a church of the blood God?" He tilted his head kind of like a bird "like that doesn't scare you?"

Michael half shrugged and continued to pull out parchment and writing utensils, placing some in front of Kain “When your childhood is as... complicated as mine was, you tend to simply try to accept the things you're told and continue on... While it may be... off putting there's no use to dwell on it if it can no longer affect our surroundings.”

Kain looked at him surprised as he picked up a quill to begin to write. "Huh… most people lose their shit and call a shit ton of nasty things"

He shrugged and looked down at the parchment and then at Kain for a moment “The old ones teach to be understanding of all, no one has a... clean past to say the least... Now let's start with the alphabet, the letters just by themselves, once you know those the rest will be easy.” Michael wrote down a clean and easy to read copy for Kain to follow, his penmanship was almost cursive like in its swirls.

Kain tried his damndest to copy them as best he could, becoming so intent in his mission that he ended up with his face inches from the page, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and his tongue sticking out of his mouth. When he was done he pulled away from the page with a "ta-da!"

Michael nodded slightly as Kain finished writing and then looked over his work. “It works, and turns out better if you stay a decent way away, you want to be able to see what you're trying to write... And slow strokes, you're too jagged- never rush your words.... But a decent first try.”

Kains face turned a slight shade of red as Michael spoke, "uh- thanks..." he paused before adding "uh fuck you everything I do is awsome" which felt very much like an after thought.

"So uh like this?" He tried again slower but Mchael could see him struggling a little and if he looked closely he could see the scars and newer burn marks the covered Kains hand as he held the quill and attempted to write a smoother line of words.

He watched Kain write for a bit longer, rolling his eyes slightly at his comment before eventually sighing and pulled out a new piece of parchment and placed his hand over Kains to guide him through the writing exercises. “We don't use such language here, this is a place of worship and respect... And closer, but feel the moments of how each is written... Then try again on your own.”

Kain tried once more doing much better this time, while trying to ignore the feeling og Michales hand on his own as his face turns a darker shade of red untill his hand seeming violently cramps "Ah fuck!" he muttered under his breath in pain before looking at Michael rememering he had asked him not to swear, "ah shit sorry...oh wait fuck- Shit uh....I'm gonna shut up now"

Michael laughed softly at Kains embarrassment over his swearing but looked over his writing and nodded approvingly. “You're doing better, it simply takes practice and... a dedication of sorts.”

Kain nodded gently rubbing his palm, "I'm more used to messing around with mechanics then a pen and paper if I'm being honest "

“Yes, well... When stuck here in these walls for years until I was deemed... acceptable to leave, I had to find ways to entertain myself, which was with writing, with words…” A far away look filled his eyes for a moment before he shook his head. “My mother used to like to tinker with machines.”

"My mother liked to drink," he burst out because he has the social skills and grace of a sharp rock, he wasn't used to having to hold his tongue and more often than not said the first thing that came to his mind.

Michael turned his attention back towards Kain and there was a spark of laughter in his eyes, yet he still spoke seriously. “As most of the world does, yes, it's a... common over indulgence.”

"eh" he shrugged, "it's not healthy but uh, it's called an addiction for a reason" he laughed at his own dark joke.

He eyed Kain for a moment and then shook his head and gently patted Kain on the head before cleaning up the table, giving Kain a few blank papers and an extra quill and bottle of ink. “Indeed... And just in case you care to keep practising on your own.”

"Oh.. Uh thanks...I uh....I think I will practise," he nodded more to himself than to Michael.

Michael nodded as Kain accepted the papers and smiled softly. “Great... I understand it's not a skill you care for but it's helpful.”

Kain stand stood up once Michael was done cleaning up and grinned cheekily " I'll see you ‘round then pretty boy?"

A slight smile found its way to Michael's face, and so it a soft red hue as he nodded and led Kain back towards the doors of the cathedral. “Perhaps, only time will time.”

[ducknotinarow]

87Michelangelo - All Symbol Headcanons please uwu

| Send me a symbol and I will write a headcanon about…  For multimuse blogs, please specify!

The og party dude, I love 87 mikey a lot hes such a dork at times in the show but sassy and its just the funniest thing to see. Mikey for sure is mostly just light-hearted and upbeat. He is normally the more positive one out of his brothers. I do love that no matter what though Mikey is always shown to be just ad skilled if not more at times in battle do to his natural raw talent uwu

𝓕 : My muse’s handwriting. (Is it good, bad, difficult to decipher, do they prefer writing by hand or with the help of some form of machine, e.t.c.) 

"Can't be having a sloppy signature after all" I like to think due to Mikey's bit more matureness in 87 series at least he dose have a less sloppy hand writing, and thanks to him being creative he still likes to had some flare into his writing. Mikey letting sizing of course shows he is out going but it;s a pretty easy thing to say when it comes to the orange banded turtle. The spacing in his letters show that well Mikey may like alone time here and there he perfers the company of others. He is very much a dependent turtle. Not that he can't handle being alone but if the option of being around someone else is there he will rather that that. He uses a soft pressure due to his empathetic and sensitive nature. 87 Mikey is pretty in tune with his emotions. Likely thanks to him being the youngest and having said freedom to be as such. It's why he was able to tell Casey had a crush on Raph, or that Don was truly heart broken over what happened with him and April. And well he is someone who can be dependable in this sense if you notice how far off to the left the dot of his i is you will also learn he is a massive procrastinator. Even if this Mikey tends to take training a bit more serious than other versions he still rather watch tv or make pizza at times.

✈ : My muse and  traveling. (If they do it frequently and why, if they never left their home town, e.t.c.)

"Ehh we been to a lot werid places?"

in Raph I had forgotten the turts have been to Europe but also other dimensions even. So I would argue traveling to different world may just be further than anywhere they have been on earth.

✿ : My muse and nature. (If they are an ‘outdoorsy type’, like the sound of bird’s singing, if they have never set foot in a forest, e.t.c.) 

"Sure i'm all for nature so long as I can bring the tv with me."

I love constantly making fun of the turtle not being into camping despite it also being like the one time they can fully enjoy just being out and about at times like even in later seasons when the turtles are more free to walk around in later seasons they do go some stigma against them. I feel Mikey just truly has become accustomed to the modern conveniences is all.

☼ : My muse’s first memory. (Where it was, who was with them, how this memory makes them feel, e.t.c.) 

"uh I guess the most I think back to is when we mutated?"

far as I am aware or can recall 87 turtles never had a childhood per-say. Their baby stage/kid stage of life was spent when they were normal turtles and by the time they mutated they were already mature which is why they just pop as we see them in show. I feel that is when Mikey first memory kind of starts himself. Not that he don't recall somethings at time just his mind was developed in the same manor so it's easier to recall anything since that moment. Besides it's pretty life changing when you think about it.

☙ : My muse’s favourite food. (Bonus: A memory, be it good or bad, associated with said food.)

"If ya don't know then I don't know what to tell you dude."

I feel you have to be a fake fan not to know the turtles love pizza especially Mikey u-u and like many of the Mikey's it seems that love takes him to learning to cook. I feel he learned the basics from Splinter. But since most his cultural intake is from tv he started to try stuff out from tv shows and just really go into cooking ever since. Not like baking himself he perfers the savory stuff. But He would love to hear about Caasey being a baker uwu he has an odd friendship with Casey so I think he just like to bond with his brother in law this way. Look the moment he clocked into Casey crush he decided Casey was family u-u.

In truth HE should be the one making food for Von I like to think he was the one who gave Raph the idea that cooking would be the way to make peace with her. But Mikey sort of understands where Raph is coming from he should step in and help sorry Von but he knowns it wouldn't quite do the same if he made the food for Raph to give.

But he likely will be the one that has to sort of point out to Raph why this make casey jelly uwu Mikey understand the relationship to food.

♬ : My muse and music. (What type of music they like listening to and in what context, what music they would never listen to, e.t.c.)

"Oh I love music! nothing better than some good tunes brah."

Mikey dose love music of course, he tends to like more pop and rock music. A big fan of the likes of Modonna and Billy Joel. And just music that fits his more upbeat persona himself. Often can be found blasting music in the lair when he is in the kitchen or alone in the room it's always a karaoke session with Mikey.

↺ : My muse and the past. (Do they live in the past and struggle to let go of past grievances, or move on more easily, is there anything in their past they want to forget, e.t.c.) 

"ehh sometimes shit happen my dude but can't dwell forever."

Mikey's pretty good about learning to let things go. Being the youngest dose often mean he sort of gets his feelings hurt unintetnationally by his brothers time to time. But Mikey's able to understand and sort of see where they come from. When Don takes his frustrations out on his inventions being stolen or not working. When Raph makes snarky remarks or Leo even can get to be a tad demanding. His empathy dose allow him the head space to come to an understanding. he isn't immune to making petty comments or sassy remarks himself when he dose get baited into it. He's just a tad more emotionally mature.

☾ : My muse and sleep. (How much they sleep, how much they wish to sleep, if there is something that never fails to put them to sleep, e.t.c.) 

"I gotta get my beauty sleep don't look this good with out it."

Mikey is someone who can just sort of clonk out once it time for bed he is very much like the sun come morning he is up and beaming bright. Which im sure can annoy others not feeling the same way. the sunnier the day the sunnier Mikey himself is going to be. He can be an early riser even soon as the sky is awake Mikey is awake. Even with them often having to be active at night though he find its tough to stay up too late with out being busy he can do it and often can survive on little sleep and still be happy as can be.

✧ : My muse and art. (If they have an artistic side or not and why, favourite artist if they have one, e.t.c.) 

"I am named after an artis buuuuut I aint following his foot steps unless cooking counts?"

Which i feel it dose and should be more often. I truly see Mikey being a fan of many cooking shows and liking to try and plate and presentation food in a similar fashion. Its only for fun so he only dose it when its just him in the kitchen or if hes making something special for someone else. He may also make it look nice buuut that's resevered for someone he had feelings for more than anything uwu or his brothers just to cheer them up.

❃ : My muse and social media. (If the muse is/would be on social media and why/why not, their general opinion on it, e.t.c.) 

"Eh not much myself."

I know there was like forms of social media in the time that the 87 show aired over and such but with the fact the turtles tend to not really give much implications of wanting to really interact with humans at times but will help because it's the right thing and something they can even do. Mikey seems content with the friends they have ant not in a real need to expand his circle any time soon.

✉  : My muse and others. (If they social and outgoing or more introverted, and why. If they prefer communicating with others face to face or in written form, e.t.c.). 

"I mean I'm the party dude?"

I find the idea of mikey not being extroverted hilarious. Mikeys someone who tends to be able to openly talk with others with out issues often the friendest of the group as well. Where Mikey can be sort of between his brothers when it comes to thier involvement with the humans he tends to lean more on Leo's end not so much to be a hero but very much following his brother well also feeling it is the right thing todo. He dose enjoy meeting new people but that dosent always mean everyone. Sometimes he can find some charaters a bit much and be happy to just move on with them but he's also happy to welcome them back as well. It's just who Mikey is after all.

▶ : My muse and level of education. (If the muse has some form of education, what education they perhaps wish they had, e.t.c.). 

"I mean splinter taught all of us so there's that I guess?"

Mikeys real only education has been his ninja training so to help protect himself after all beyond that it's very much a if he wants to learn deal. Mostly mikey is more invested in not sitting down and learning stuff he dosent need to or even want to. He isn't like an idiot he's been shown to understand some concepts here and there but he's still got his gaps in knowledge he just at least have some common sense. Surpingly.

◐ : My muse and animals. (If they like animals and treat them well, do not care for them at all, e.t.c.). 

"I've had a few pets even got some fish for Raph!"

Mikey's had at least three or four pets himself in the show and even got Raph Japanese fighting fish once. I feel like he's very much a guy who sees an animal inn need if home and wants to help. I don't think he keeps any pets himself but will have a pet for a bit before having to take them somewhere they can live a happier life at instead. But of course he dose have a soft spot for cats like many Mikeys Do.

❒ : My muse and gifts. (If they are good/bad at finding gifts, good/bad at receiving gifts, good/bad at wrapping gifts, e.t.c.) 

"Gift are prettt nice I like to give and get them."

As mentioned before he did gift Raph some fish and its sort of over looked and misinterpreted that 87 raph dosen't care for fighting where it's ture he isn't looking for a fight he sure dose like to pick them still and even express interesting in contact sports still. So I feel mikeys pick of the fish shows this understanding of people he is close to. He did get upset when he thought everyone forgit his brithday but he seemed more down about just not getting acknowledged for it over a party or gifts.

Dosent mean Mikey dosent enjoy getting gifts of course but he dose agree its all about the thought that went into it over what the item is.

I feel like he lokes to try and out the same though behind gifts he may go for others but he dosent really got out of his way very much a it's your brithday or Christmas so I'm getting you gift person.

☘ : My muse’s relation with their family. (If they speak with each other and how much, if they are close or estranged, e.t.c.). 

"My brothers can be annoying buy I love them."

It is sad to me how I feel Splinter dose very much and clearly viwe the turtles as his sons but the turtles are some of the few to not see him as a dad but I feel it's that they do. They worked through the first season alone to try and help him demutate from being a rat after all. And when he had advance to go back to the human world theu were all sad at the thought of never seeing him again. Mikey shows he respects Splinter a lot and will often listen to him. Like when he refers to them as man and gets scolded he corrects himself. I feel he dose see Splinter as someone who cared and cares for him but worries he may lose that.

But knows he at least has his brother always.

Mikey dosent take advantage of being baby brother comaprednto later interactions fo and will. But I feel his brothers do instead viwe him a bit more that way so it dose allow Mikey to get away with his antics and such but also at the same time getting seen as equal to his brothers as a ninja.

I feel Mikey is the closest to Leo.he often follows in thier lead with not real fight. And tends to team up with Leo the most well sharing in Leo's ideals at times here and there. It could be he is just following because Leo is in charge but often he also speaks up when ever Don or Raph tend to expression not seeing why they need todo something he will speak up before Leo.

I feel he is about the same closeness to Don and Raph. But feels the pair are much closer he dosent have anything against this because he in turn os the same with Leo after all. But he also seems just as happy to be around either of them as Leo. But Raoh at least dose seem guilty of seeing Mikey as baby brother even expressing he can't beat even a robot version of the guy and the time he because a kid turtle didn't help. So he will at times get annoyed with raph and is often opposite of the more rude brother. Where with Donnie he seems to try and hold mkre balance along with.