#it just works great as a sound design lesson

[starfallpod]

I’m catching up on Re:Dracula and listening to the sound design roundtable from back in July and I just found it funny how Tal said they wound up using a sword effect for the shovel smack effect

because

most of the time when I’m doing sword effects in Starfall, I use shovel effects

[csuitebitches]

Crafting a Personality and Capitalising on it

How do we craft a personality that is socially charming yet true to our roots?

How do we mingle and meet new people without feeling awkward or shy about it?

How do we not lose ourselves while following all these blah blah etiquette rules?

Welcome to part 2 of my Chic Girl Mentality series. 🤍

Today, we will focus on crafting a personality that is still you but better.

First, let’s talk about people in social settings. You’ll meet people who are confident, secure and socially charming. You’ll meet quiet people who may be equally socially charming or just very shy and conscious. You’ll meet the braggers and the doe-eyed followers. There’s a lot of different types of people in the world and knowing how to gracefully navigate most of them is nothing but a learned art.

People, regardless of their bank balance, are insecure of what they do not have yet. This can be looks, money, experience, lifestyle, and so on. How do we capitalise on this without exploiting or manipulating anyone?

By knowing how to tell a story.

That doesn’t mean that you need to become a public speaker or politician, it just means that you need to be able to craft intriguing stories about yourself, using your own life and experiences, to “sell” an interesting version of you socially. We’re all interesting people but only a few of us know how to say that we’re interesting without saying that we’re interesting.

Experience 

People, even those with money, will always be more attracted to those who have experiences, especially, unique ones. Whether it’s travelling to exotic locations or trying new culinary destinations, or wearing unknown designers, knowing obscure artists or writers, or being at the top of your industry… experience is the most important thing to cultivate first.  You already have experience. If you went to school, high school, college, joined clubs, your first job, any travelling, etc - these are all experiences.

Make a list of 5 of the most interesting experiences you think you have.

Hobbies and interests 

Have a couple of lowkey hobbies that you feel enthusiastic about. Whether it’s doing some charity work on Sundays, or cooking, or pottery, whatever it is, keeping a hobby is healthy. 

There should be something to you that an acquaintance can remark about: “CSB? Oh yes, I’ve heard that she’s a great dancer.” 

Vulnerabilities 

Certain vulnerabilities must never, ever be shared. It will 100% be used either as gossip or blackmail. 

However, coming across as someone with no weaknesses is rather untrustworthy- it makes the other person feel that you’re clearly hiding something. 

Make a list of vulnerabilities that are small and you don’t mind sharing. These should be vulnerabilities that will never ruin your reputation in any form but can be used as a form of bonding with empathy. 

And make a list of hard core vulnerabilities you know you should never share with anyone. Keep it memorised rather than written down. 

Experience + Hobbies or Interests + Safe Vulnerabilities = Personality

Storytelling 

Now that you have some experience, hobbies, interests, and your “safe” vulnerabilities sorted even if it’s limited - what will make it stand out is the art of storytelling. Some storytellers can make even the most mundane experiences sound magical - it’s all in the words and delivery. There’s a reason why every Holy Book is a story, packed with lessons and morals - it’s impactful, easy to remember and recall and relatable. Craft your experiences into stories. Use those 5 experiences that you noted down and start writing them down as stories.

Take up an online storytelling class or watch videos. Start honing this skill by writing and reading good literature. 

Refine your 5 experiences further. Run it through chatGPT, say them out loud and most importantly- start testing them out on people. See what makes them chuckle and what doesn’t; what makes them empathise and what doesn’t.

A famous comedian whose name I can’t remember does the same thing. He creates his set. He goes to a small pub and tries it out on the audience there. And the first set is always the first. The audience may not laugh at his jokes, they might boo him or sometimes, he might get a laugh out of them. But every time, he goes home and refines his set further. Once his set is fully refined, and he accomplishes his goal of the audience peeling with laughter at every joke, that’s when he goes on national TV / on tour etc etc.

The most important thing is to craft your stories of your experiences in a way that it delivers the value you want the person to remember about you.

For instance, if I want to be seen as creative and innovative, I won’t tell the person in front of me, “oh, I’m soo innovative and creative!”

Rather I will weave that into a story. “When I was 24, at my first job in the advertising space, we were losing clients left and right. And one weekend, I was on a trek on the mountains - it’s one of my hobbies - this idea hit me, and I suddenly knew exactly how to get our clients back. My team was hesitant about my idea, and we got a lot of pushback, but we went ahead. The night before my launch I was so nervous, I got hardly sleep. And you won’t believe it, but the idea worked! The response was fantastic.”

Let the other person come to the conclusion of you being innovative and creative. Human beings love to deduce things and jump to conclusions and provided you set the context the right way, you should be able to project the version of you that is the best part of you.

Vocabulary 

A sign of a good education- even if you don’t have it - is a diverse vocabulary. I’ve always had a little more respect and awe for those who are articulate, can speak smoothly and speak confidently. I’ve noticed that my American friends, for instance, tend to talk fast with lots of filler words, and sentences tend to end with a pitch up instead of down, which to me indicates hesitation or indecision. Speaking slower, ending your sentences with pitch going down to indicate a full stop rather than up makes you seem like a refined speaker even if your subject is utterly stupid. 

Body language and mannerisms, social interaction 

Watch old classic Hollywood movies to really understand this - especially romantic ones. Choose ones with a femme fatale or siren-like female lead, and watch how she enraptures the male lead or the audience around her. 

A combination of fantastic storytelling and body language will take you places beyond your dreams. Some of the biggest frauds, scammers, politicians, criminals are also some of the best storytellers. Humans are attracted to stories, we pick up body language intuitively, we can sense when someone is nervous or isn’t. Unfortunately the world isn’t a kind place and will not necessarily help you out of your shyness- in fact, that might just make you the best target for exploitation. 

Storytelling + Vocabulary + Body Language = Your Best Personality

[chaoticloving]

afterparty

frat/hockey!harry styles x reader

summery: after an intense after party from harry winning the game, the fire alarm get set off, revealing a secret relationship

warning: allusions to sex

a/n: TESTS DONE FUCK YEAH

The after party was intense, to put lightly.

After another amazing win by Harry and his team, they organized a party at the frat. Beer, booze, and vodka was all throughout the house—sprite for the designated drivers—and cheers could be heard all along campus.

Y/n and Harry had a quite relationship, no one knew that the future hockey star and the genius future lawyer were dating. An unluckily pair that met during an Economics class, in a time where Y/n had no clue what she wanted to do in her life and Harry had little confidence in his hockey career. They happen to sit next to each other, taking subtle glances at each other. But it was when Y/n noticed Harry’s excelling scores in the math heavy portion of the lesson class that she saw her chance to strike, and start conversation.

It’s all history now. They are older, their last year in college, plans in the works for the rest of their lives; nothing was for certain, except that they would stay together. They are confident, they found their right path and are happy—they just can’t fess up to their friends that their together. They both feel guilt, but it’s their life, and they can inform people on certain aspects of it at the right time.

But at the party, they hung out, talked with friends, drunk, played games, drunk, and made subtle gestures to each other that everyone was too drunk to realize how crude they were. The party was loud, music tearing the eardrums of people as they danced, and it was packed. It was for certain that you would have someone’s sweat on you by the end of the night.

But that wasn’t the after party.

It wasn’t an official party, in fact, only Y/n and Harry were present. It was intimate and loving moment between the couple; close, passionate, and sloppy. They were drunk, so it wasn’t the most complex of sex that they’ve ever had, but it was damn good.

The aftermath of laying naked in Harry’s bed was just as great, sobering up and loving the heat radiating from each other. Harry had his face buried in Y/n’s chest, arms wrapped snuggly around the women’s torso as Y/n had her hands mixed in his hair, massaging his scalp nicely. Harry’s thumb was softly rubbing her skin, brushing away any and all insecurities she had.

Harry softly hummed when he was drifting off, a way to not let his mind wonder to worrisome thoughts and that was subtle enough to allow Y/n to rest. He liked making up melodies or replicating some song he heard at the gym.

His humming was coming to a end though—Y/n’s heart rate was softening and causing Harry’s to do the same, he was drifting off, mind mush of wacky dreams of Y/n. She had fallen asleep around five minutes into his humming, passing out after the exhausting party and the even more tiring sex, but made sure her love for Harry was known to settle any worrying midnight doubts.

A loud blaring alarm ruined their night though. Harry had fully awoken first since not being in REM in the first place. He turning over and noticed the sound coming from the fire alarm. His eyes went wide as he used his arms that were around Y/n and gripped her hard, pulling her up with him and waking her in the process.

“Wha’s that noise.” She mumbled, eyes not even fully open.

“Fire alarm. We need to get out.” Harry had put a sweatshirt of his on Y/n guiding it through her head and then put boxers on straight after.

He grabbed a pair of boxers for himself, turning around to see Y/n a little more awake as she put her arms in the sleeves and stood up. Harry was panicking, so he did the sane thing and lifted her up and took her through the house to the closest exit.

Him and Y/n were met with the cold wind of three in the morning. Other members of the team were outside the house, all equally shivering and trying to warm themselves up in their boxers and shirts. A few were straggling behind the couple, but no one until Louis noticed there was one more person accounted here then what should be.

“Alright, who’s extra is here!” Louis shouted over the alarms. “I’m gonna need to know for the report!”

The guys murmured, snickering about one of their friends getting cocked block by a fire; until the eyes fell on the only guy in plane boxers, hugging someone to his chest, Harry.

“Damn, Harry?”

Laughs roared out as the boys nudged one another. Louis smiled and walked over to his best friend.

“Alright!” He called out the group of boys, getting them back into their own business. Louis looked over the couple, curious as to who the girl it. But when he heard the voice, he was shook.

“Hey Louis.” Y/n mumbled, still a little out of it.

“Y/n?” His mouth is open, head looking up at Harry and then back at the girl; his frat brothers watch the interaction too, all tsking and others smiling, mumbling about getting some cash and pizzas. “No fucking way—are you two just hooking up or..?”

“Together.” Harry asserts, arms tensing more around his girlfriend. “Don’t get any ideas, dick.”

Louis put his hands up, stepping back. “Hey. I wouldn’t, just glad everyone’s out here and safe.”

Louis went over to the fire chief, probably telling them what he knows. Harry hugs Y/n though, looking for a bit of comfort with his friends peering eyes. One of the reasons Harry was unwilling to tell the boys about his relationship is just how much they liked Y/n; he knew damn well she was hot and sexy, so did the other boys, and if they knew she’d be around a lot—no way they wouldn’t make their lives a living hell.

“You good, H?” She whispered softly, thumb stroking Harry’s arm.

“Cold.” Is all he spoke, but Y/n wasn’t buying it.

“Embarrassed?” Y/n offered.

Harry shook his head and kissed his girlfriends shoulder. “Never embarrassed of you, love.” Harry hesitated before continuing. “Just don’t like the idea of the boys knowing we sleep together—I’m terrified for the pranks their going to pull to try and get you to go out with them now.”

Y/n smiled kindly at the dumb boy, he was lovable, but he could be a little stupid sometimes. “No prank or shirtless boy could take me away from you.” She chided.

She squeezed Harry’s Harry’s hand three times, then another three times after. I love you.

After a minute of Louis using wild hand and arm gestures to the fire captain, he finally rallied the boys and Y/n back and gave told them the cost was clear. “And Niall?”

“Yeah mate?”

“Never put another pop tart in the toaster ever again.” Every had an annoyed groan and people started to, playfully, shove the man for interrupting their sleep while simultaneously laughing that he cocked blocked Harry.

“We were sleeping!” Harry would shout back at any man that made that same joke which only made them burst out with laughter even more.

Eventually, since the damages were only a ruined toaster, everyone went back inside and Y/n and Harry snuggled under the covers. Although Harry would never admit it, he loved being the little spoon but facing inwards so his face would rest on Y/n’s boobs, and that’s exactly their current position now.

“Think maybe we should spend tomorrow night at mine?” Y/n offered. “Think Lila is there though.”

Harry snuggled even closer to his girl, drifting off slowly. “Maybe we should just move in together.”

Y/n giggled softly. “As much as I’d love that we are broke uni students. Wait till your off playing Hockey professionally and I have my job; then we’ll talk.”

“Hmmk.” Harry hummed. “Can’t wait until we don’t have to be quite anymore when we have sex.”

“I think you mean you don’t have to be quite anymore.” Y/n sighed softly.

“‘scuse me for telling ya how good ya feel.” Harry words were slowly slurring together, but also talking about sex slowly got him riled up.

“Let go to sleep before you get hard.” Y/n sighed. “Too early for morning wood.”

“Never to early to be horny for you babe.” Harry shifted his body and slightly rolled the couple over so Harry was completely on top of Y/n. “Could fuck you right now.”

“Sure you can.” Y/n said, eyes closed but knowing Harry’s are nearly there too. “Tomorrow we can wake your mates up so let’s save it for then.”

“Alright.” Harry kissed his loves nose. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most.”

[pepsiconcoction]

The Perfect Tutor | Lee Know x Reader

pairing: CompSci Student! Lee Know x gn!Reader

tags: fluff, no smut, just a little flirting at the end, minor explicit language, partially proofread

You think he might be perfect. And that pisses you off. Surely he can't be, right?

Why did you have to take the comp sci unit? You’re a graphic designer, you don’t need to know how big scary servers work! 

Those have been the thoughts running through your head most recently. Especially at this moment as you try to “install Windows Server 2019” and “set up Active Directory”. Yeah… because those are definitely real words… that you definitely know the meaning of.

To your dismay, at the beginning of the semester, you found out that you had to take the general computing unit, alongside your regular classes, to gain the number of credits you need to get into next year. Being a graphic designer who uses a computer, you thought that ‘general computing’ sounded like something you could do, you spend most of your time on one for god’s sake!

You’ve been staring at a loading screen for the past 10 minutes, and you’re quite honestly beginning to doubt whether it’s going to turn into anything. The Professor speaks up, dismissing the class, signalling it’s the end of the day. 

After choke-holding the computer to death (holding the power button), you slowly gather your things, watching as the other students begin to leave the computer lab. Once most of them have left, you walk up to the front desk.

“Y/n, what can I do for you?” The Professor, looks up from his school-assigned laptop, glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Hey, Professor. I think I’m falling behind a bit, just a little out of my depth with everything,” You force your sincerest smile, talking quietly. “So I was wondering if you’d be available for extra lessons?”

“I wish I could, but I’m so busy with the department being understaffed. How about you ask one of your classmates?”

You mindlessly turn back to the room where there are a few stragglers left.

“Oh, I don’t-”

“How about Minho?” He gestures behind you.

“Minho?” You turn around making eye contact with the man mentioned. His eyes widen in curiosity at his name.

“Yeah, he is more than capable to tutor you, aren’t you, Minho?” 

Minho’s desk is only a few feet from the front but he takes a few steps towards you, holding a pair of wireless headphones in his hands. He is definitely more than capable to tutor you, and you know this. He’s quiet and keeps to himself, but you’ve seen his grades in passing. You don’t think he’s gotten below 95% on any assignment or test. You’d happily have him as your tutor, it’s just that, well, he might possibly be the most handsome guy you’ve ever met. Okay, the standards in the Comp Sci department aren’t exactly high, you’re lucky if most of them are wearing deodorant, but Minho? He dresses well, styles his hair, has a side profile worthy of painting AND he wears the perfect amount of cologne, not too much that it’s overbearing but just enough that it’s refreshing whenever you walk past him.

“Yeah, I probably could.” Minho looks at you and then back to the Professor.

“Great!” He closes his laptop and stands, gathering his things. “I’ve got to run to my next class, you guys can sort the rest.” 

With that, your Professor is halfway out the door. You look up to Minho who is half chuckling at his bluntness, and he turns to you.

“Are you sure you wanna tutor me? You don’t have to say yes, he's not here anymore.” You say, half-jokingly. 

“If you need help, I’m around. I have some free time this Friday if you want to set something up?” Minho asks.

“Yeah, Friday works great for me!”

“Perfect.” You end up swapping phone numbers to discuss the details, and you leave the classroom feeling partially accomplished. Now you just need to be professional, and not think he’s the hottest guy in the world whenever you catch a glimpse of him. You can do that. You can be normal, right?

You absolutely cannot be normal. Friday came around and he rocked up to the empty computer lab looking gorgeous in fitted black jeans and a denim jacket, coffee in hand. Thankfully you had gotten there slightly earlier to try and get ahead of the game with your notes. The two of you had decided to start with the basics, installing the operating system of the computer. Easy. 

“Remember, you don’t want to partition the hard drive, it’s not worth it on these machines at this level.” Minho explained as you quickly scribbled ‘don’t partition’ down in your notebook.

You had discovered that Minho was not only a sight for sore eyes, but also possibly the nicest, gentlest, calmest person you had met. Of course, he had his moments of energy and you two found yourself easily joking around with each other, but he was such the opposite of the gamer stereotype that you had come to dread.

“So, do you play any video games?” You asked, keeping the conversation going as the two of you were forced to sit through long progress bars.

“Not really, no. Not really my thing.” He says.

“Really? A computing student that doesn’t play games? That’s rare.” You chuckle, almost in disbelief. 

“I mean, I’ve played games. With friends and such, but I’m just not crazy into them.”

“So what are you crazy into? Computers? You seem pretty good with them.” You look towards him. The both of you are sat around a single computer, and yes, you’re very conscious of that fact.

“I guess? I’m only really taking this class for the credits.” He leans back in the chair.

“Wait, so am I!” You laugh. “So why are you so good?”

“I used to take computing in high school, and I was a bit of a nerd back then.” he laughs. 

“So what’s your major then? Mister I-only-need-the credits.”

“Dance.” He smirked.

“Liar.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m serious. I’m a dancer.” He sat forward, chuckling.

“Show me.”

“I don’t dance for free. You’ll have to come to one of my performances,” he says cockily, crossing his arms.

“Whatever, I’ll believe it when I see it,” You say, turning back to the computer which is now conveniently asking a series of questions. After that, you finish the installation pretty quickly and decide you’re done for the day. You and Minho part ways and you find yourself back in your dorm after a stress-induced power walk through the campus. You immediately call your best friend.

“Hey, Y/n,” she picks up.

“Code Pink.”

“I’ll be there in ten.” She hangs up. Nine minutes later your best friend is letting herself into your dorm room. 

“Tell me everything.” She takes a seat on your bed. You proceed to tell her about Minho: how handsome he is, how nice he is, how funny he is, God! Are you really gushing about a boy you barely know?

“I’m like, mad! I want to hate him,” you say, from your spot on the bed. “He has to have a fatal flaw, right?”

“For sure, maybe he’s homophobic? Transphobic? Misogynistic? He’s a man! He has to be sexist somehow!”

“Yeah, you’re probably right…” You trail off in thought (and partial disappointment). “Okay, now I gotta just get it out of him, so I can justify my disliking of him, and then boom! Crush gone!” You finally say.

“Easy, now, you wanna watch a movie?” your best friend grins up at you.

Okay. Get evidence he is a shitty guy. Surely this can’t be hard. You can do this.

Except the next time the two of you are studying, he comes in wearing a white t-shirt. Plastered on the front of it are the words “trans rights are human rights” in a bold, italicised font. Okay, not transphobic. You find yourself staring at it, coincidentally staring at his chest. He definitely notices.

“Y/n?” he questions as he sits down next to you.

“Oh, sorry, I was just looking at your t-shirt.”

“Ah, yeah I got it for the pride parade a few months back.” He starts looking through his bag, taking out his notebook.

“Nice, the one in town, on Main Street?”

“Yeah. My best friend is gay, so I went with him and his boyfriend, and a few of our other friends.” He explained. Probably not homophobic either.

“That’s great, I went too, with my friends as well.” You smiled.

The two of you got to work, tackling “ADDS” and “DHCP”. You probably weren’t going to remember what those acronyms stood for in a few hours but for now, it was going well enough. Minho had been scrolling through his phone for the past few minutes as the two of you relaxed, taking a quick break, when he spoke up.

“Damn, have you seen this?” he turns his phone screen to you. “Scotland has made free sanitary products a legal requirement in all public government buildings.”

“I heard about it a few days ago. It’s sick.” You responded. He locked his phone, putting it down on the table. Okay, not actively a misogynist either. Fuck. 

You left that study lesson slightly more frustrated at your slightly bigger crush on Lee Minho.

At the third tutoring session with Minho, you were so sure you were going to nip your little crush in the bud. From down the hall, you spot him standing outside the classroom on the phone. As you get closer you seem to realise that he’s mad? Frustrated? You’re not sure.

“I don’t care if it’s a stupid idea, I’m getting him. I’ll pay for everything.” You hear him say, beginning to feel bad for eavesdropping. He must sense your presence as he turns around and shoots you a smile. 

“Alright, I have to go, I’ll talk later, love you.” He hangs up and shoves his phone into his pocket.

“Sorry, that was my mom, her and I are disagreeing.” he fake smiles.

“Oh? What about?” you ask.

“I want a cat. Another cat, I already have two. But I just saw a cat on one of those re-homing websites and my heart is screaming at me to get him. So I’m currently trying to convince my mom.” He explains, sheepishly.

“Are you serious?” you deadpan.

“Uh, yes? His name is going to be Dori and I-”

“For god’s sake,” you sigh, admitting defeat.

“Uh, sorry?”

“Why do you have to be so perfect?” You sigh. His eyes widen a little.

“Like seriously,” you continue. “You’re such a nice person, you’re funny, you’re not shitty, you like cats, you have two of them, for Christ’s sake! And if that wasn’t enough, you’re possibly the most attractive man I’ve ever met. Please just tell me what is wrong with you.”

There are a few seconds of silence. A smile begins to grow on his face. You realise what you’ve done.

“You think I’m perfect?” He grins, cockily.

“Great, and now I’m an idiot.”

“You think I’m attractive.” he beams.

“Oh, shut up, surely you must know what you look like,” you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Well, yes, but there’s a difference between knowing I’m conventionally good-looking and you finding me attractive.” 

“And you’re smart,” you groan. He begins to laugh and when you look back towards him, you notice he’s blushing a little. You begin to laugh as well, hoping to break any potentially awkward tension.

“Okay, since I’m so smart, I have a great idea.” He smirks down at you, taking a step forward.

“Oh god,” you begin to dread. Your breath definitely doesn't catch in your throat.

“Let’s skip on the tutoring and I take you out for lunch, how does that sound?”

Your eyes widen as you take in his offer, he may be giving you his best flirtatious look, but under all that pink on his cheeks, you know he’s being serious.

“I’d like that.” You smile.

“So would I.” He responds, eyes shifting nervously down the hallway. 

“Do I get to see you dance?” You giggle.

“We’ll see.”

[bambifornia]

huuUOOoLRgGghh fiinnne I can't stay away from you all

i bring more autobot!swindle. plus my attempt at writing his backstory

disclaimer : most of the stuff below isn't canon i just wrote this for fun. if u guys wanna make ur own swindle backstories i invite yall to do so :D we will make our own swindle content

swindle came online during cybertron's early years of the age of expansion. the autobots (with their goal to expand cybertron's empire) engineered a set of bots who would serve cybertron as its intergalactic merchants, programmed to be ambitious bots who sought profit. they also came with bigger processors (for storing transactions and whatnot) and versatile frames (so they could withstand organic climates)

shortly after coming online, swindle was assigned a teacher (another merchant) who'd pass down the knowledge of the trade. swindle did his best to keep up with his lessons

as a student, swindle was determined and clever. as a bot, though...eughh...

- he had less of a filter, and didn't know how to keep a poker face

- his little new England accent used to be a lot thicker (think earthspark swindle)

- very friendly, had a lot of amicas back in the day (he was definitely the "I know a bot" guy). it was a struggle for him to keep quiet

- loved hands on activities, hated sitting still

- kept a journal detailing his intergalactic trips. tried to doodle any organics he found interesting

- LOVED shiny stuff. he was like a crow lmao

- his sharp glossa would sometimes get his aft beat

- despite being a chatterbox, he wasn't as suave back then. he'd often get himself in awkward situations, which he'd try to talk himself out of the embarrassment but he'd end up digging a deeper hole for himself

- petty king. also kinda nosy and had a thing for gossip

- loved pranking, and teased the bots he liked

once he was ready, swindle was given a ship and assigned a trading post (as a starting point). from that point, swindle was a rootin tootin merchant and nothing bad ever happened to him again :D...

...

until the quintessa skirmishes

the age of expansion ended with border disputes between cybertron and quintessa. multiple skirmishes sproutted along the border, and while swindle didn't fight in them, he was certainly caught in the crossfire. swindle ended up with a broken ship, a looted inventory, and a bungled up frame. he had to return to cybertron for repairs

back on cybertron, swindle finds a planet wildly different from the one he knows. tensions between autobots and decepticons are rising, and the banks aren't holding up that great. swindle finds himself in a tight spot (financially speaking) since he still has to deal with his losses from quintessa. unable to go back to his actual merchant job, swindle resorts to taking odd jobs to keep himself afloat (yes, even stealing)

when the war breaks out, swindle gets drafted into the front lines (a decision that still baffles him to this day). since he's not much of a fighter, the autobots have swindle work as a spy, ordering him to smuggle weapons out of decepticon servos...

in future hindsight, that was a poor decision

---

wrapping it up here because i don't want this post to get too long LMAO but I still have more ideas for him if yall are interested. just know that this is not the end of swindle lore

ALSO I finally came up with autobot!swindle designations :D I've narrowed it down to 3 and I need help deciding. it's either between

quickdime - cuz. you know. he's always looking to make a quick buck

treasury - his subspace acts like a treasury if you kinda think about it

fortune - idk it sounds cute. besides fortune tends to "favor the bold and clever"

if u made it this far then congrats. thank u for listening to me yap. have a bonus doodle

[user211201]

Gym Goggles

--- Originally posted by ZacharyEverlust before 2018-08-22 ---

--- Note: Pokémon Leader TF ---

POOOOT!

"ALRIGHT! NEXT ONE!"

The Coach blew his whistle, and off goes another successful victim--applicant! Gomennasai for that error. But yes, we are all applicants here aren't we?

The next one of us is a delightful little chap who was personally invited to join us in Dorm Desire Academy. Average build, you can tell since he's stripped naked aside from the privates which are covered by swimming trunks. He should be getting rid of them soon anyway.

By the way, you could tell that he's one of those anime-obsessed teenagers if you pay a visit to his room, devoted to reading tons of manga and playing many kinds of anime-based games. Well, you could tell that too if you knew the man personally. I mean, that's why I invited him after all.

Boy, don't you know how these types just absolutely love to imagine being fit, more muscular versions of themselves. Charismatic, shouting and boasting about in their teenage-slang. Cheerful and popular, basically total jocks. I mean! Just look at how great they turned out back in the Academy!

No dumbing down in case you guys are wondering, just pushing aside and reorganizing their talents in academics and pushing it all into sports and leadersip. Though its really case by case scenario if you are going into detail.

But yes, time to start narrating properly again. Let's call the chap "Baikoha" for now.

"WHERE are your GOGGLES?!" The coach shouted."Don't you know that all new students are required to wear their FULL-SET of equipment before the lesson?"

Baikoha winced, his hands fumbling about in his trunks. Attempting to find the branded pair of swim-gear that's tucked in. "Why did I sign up for swimming lessons again?" He thought. Noting that this week is "Sports Week" at campus, a tri-monthly Dorm Desire event in which its a mandatory for new students to take part in one sporting event each time in the year.

He took out the swimming goggles, light blue lens with rubberized ocean colored sides. It was quite similar to the rest of the goggles of the other participants in line. Although, like what the mini-swimmer's package that was sent to me has said. It's of a completely different branding.

"Congratulations, you've obtained one of the two limited edition "Marlon & Brawly" branded goggles." It said, and judging by the rest of the swimmers' mass produced "Dorm Desire branded" goggles. It looks like him and one other guy are the lucky ones for this semester.

Well, you would be if the coach wasn't pissed off at you.

He quickly wore the eye-wear, a loud "Click" sound signifying the goggles being attached to my face. The surroundings gained a dark-blueish tone, as the chap stared at the deep blue open-aired swimming pool, which seems to be remodeled and designed like the ocean itself.

Stepping forward...little by little. Nervous to mention to the coach that he's "not particularly sure how to swim"..., especially considering that this side of the pool only seem to be really deep. And that's only what it seems! Imagine how deep it actually is!

"So you're one of those newbies huh? The coach spoke,uh ohWell once this week is over, I'll have you diving like a professional!" He gave a really fierce-looking grin, as he raised his right arm and--

"SURFS UP!" SLAP! SPLASH!

The helpless chap is slammed into the pool, water flows and culminates around the branded goggles. Bubbles bubbling about.

"WhaBLURRBBBLEGHHHH!"

Bubbles beam towards the corners of the student's lips.Streaming past the edges of his tongue, the uvula, and into the numerous systems in his body. Body completely paralyzed, limp and light. But alive as ever, with red hot blood pumping to overcome the oxygen deficit in the lung.

Triggering the whole body, as the bubbles work inward. Down the legs, through the arms, chest, and most importantly the head. All of it beginning to realign themselves into a proper swimmer's form. New info being slowly bubbled into his thoughts.

The first were the arms. Starting strongly as they slowly align into position, arms bulking and tanning themselves deeply with the illumination of the sun. Mixed with the cool richness of the minerals in the pool, forming a light chocolate collagen-rich tan showing confidently on his swimmer-ised, nimble and exposed biceps.

Next were the chest. Pecs pumping out like a heart, chest firm, proudly synchronized with the darkening skin tone from each arm. Blood bubbling into the veins, lungs being completely filled with air bubbles, muscles aching for some action. His body stings up!

Arms moving further and wider, involuntary to the new brain sensors as they spread wide! Performing a powerful backstroke underwater, solidifying those strong back muscles that complement the skill and strength of the swimmer. Broad shoulders, with abs glistening with a healthy Tan like the rest of his upper torso.

Legs giving a mighty dolphin kick, popping out those glutes as they form a proud bubble butt, shining out underneath the new trunks growing beneath. Tan line forming just around the waist. Bottom as clear and white as the gentle milky river.

Bubbles leave his pores via the lower portion, releasing the laziness, unenthusiasm, and stress. Legs marloning and Shoot!ing past the unathletic height. The Negative energy being destroyed and bursting all over his feet as two pair of plain-sticky dark blue sandals form over his well-developed feet.

His mouth forms a steady grin, unattractive thoughts seeping out of his new darkened coat, trunks expanding and wet-suiting down his tall legs, brightening into a positive light blue with three thick paler strips down each thigh. Pairs of fins youthfully pop by at the ends of each leg. Completing his favourite wet-suit.

The light brownish hue covers his entire neck and face. His eyebrows and hair dye themselves a sharpedo blue, angular jaw and prominent cheekbones showing off the cheeriness of the man. The man who enjoys being in the water.

"Study-nerd's essays, homework, and watching anime are total bummer dude!" His vocal cords cooled, laced with Surfer lingo. * "Radical thoughts like surfing, swimming and marine biology are totally in."* Hair styling itself into a fin of a sharpedo, with some white dotted sparkles spotted near the front.

"Yo, what's an anime? ...Man, for some reason. I feel like I was in one!"

The man thought, furrowing his well-shaped eyebrows before shrugging off almost instantly. The last bits of the negative bubbles leaving through his mouth, steady and high capacity lungs lay deep in his body. As the soothing wave carries him up the depth of the pool, shooting up as it transforms into a tidal wave and--

"SPLASHHHHHHHHHH!"

The new man rose to the surface.

Flipping up his special goggles and allowing the light blue aura of the pool's surface to diminish any doubt he once ever had. Eyes revealing to be a calm, and a refreshing blue, with the confidence and fierceness of an all time swim-goer.

Embracing and relaxing in his new identity, as Marlon, Former Gym Leader of Humilau City's Gym and now the Captain of The University's Water Sports Group. A Carefree Surfer Jock who loves nothing more than being in the water.

"Yo! Brawly! Sup!" Marlon raised his hand. HI-FIVE "Hey Man! Totally drenched me over here! Haha!" He laughed.

The two of them were inseparable, fierce competitors and the greatest of friends back when they met in orientation. Recognizing the other Gym Leader back when they were roomies. And having being given their own special goggles together by the higher-ups as a reward for being one of the best pairs in their category. The Ocean.

With their knowledge of the ocean, surfing as well as a healthy match of Pokemon battles and tons of working out. With Marlon and Brawly taking the lead in The school's Swimming/Water Polo and Dynamic Surfers Teams respectively, The Captains of the University's Water Sports Group were unstoppable together.

"Dude! Race you to the top of the diving board." Marlon swam. "Oh yeah? Well I'm gonna wipe you down man!" Brawly jumped in and swam right after him.

The two of them made their way to the diving board.

"Hey Man! Watch this--I'm gonna make--!"

"A Bigger Splash Than The Sea!"

SPLASH!

[sarahs-secrets2]

Surf's Up! Pt 2 ˋ♡ˊ

part 1!

surfer!leon x fem reader! no use of y/n!

so about that surfing lesson... 1.1k words!

a/n: not a surfing expert, i tried my best pls be kind

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ

As you returned to the beach, the sun was lowering from its pedestal in the sky. It was hard to miss the blonde boy kneeling on the sand not far away. Leon was crouched down, waxing the boards, brushing the stray strands out of his face occasionally. Before you could say “Hi,” Leon perked up noticing you approaching. 

“Hey, you’re back,” dusting the sand off his knees he shot up to greet you. “I was gettin’ kinda nervous you wouldn't show,” he laughed, scratching the back of his neck. 

“I wouldn't miss it, promise,” 

“Good, good,” he said with a slight chuckle, obviously fighting nerves, “You ready for your lesson? How much do you know?”

“I know absolutely nothing,” shifting in the sand, you placed your hands on your hips, “Teach me everything you know,”

Leon couldn’t contain his smile, it wasn't very often a pretty girl paid him this much attention. A sort of giddy nature filled him when you were near, it was a new feeling that he was fighting to control as he attempted not to make a complete utter fool out of himself. “That’s what I like to hear.” He flashed a toothy grin before bending down to pick up a small duffle bag. Fumbling around for a bit, he finally pulled out a wetsuit, “Here you go.”

Leon handed you the wetsuit that matched the one that he was also wearing. His was half-zipped, dangling around his waist just like how it was when he first approached you. Quickly you stepped into the wetsuit, zipping it up halfway just like Leon’s. 

“Mhm no,” Leon shook his head, “All the way up.” 

Your eyes rolled slightly teasing him, “Can you help?” you turned around showing him the zipper, pretending not to be able to pull it up. Was it completely a ploy just to get him closer? Of course. The suits were designed entirely for the wearer to be able to zip it up alone, but Leon didn't need to know you knew that and it seemed like he didn’t have any complaints about helping you out. 

His hand flattened to your lower back, straightening out the scuba material to make it easier to tug the zipper up. Once he reached the top, he secured the velcro to make sure it wouldn't come undone later on. His hands lingered on your back for a few seconds longer than necessary. Craning your head to the side a bit, you stole a glance, “All done?” 

“Oh shit, yeah sorry,” Leon stepped back, clapping his hands together lightly, “Okay ready for the board? We’ll start in the sand.” You nodded following him over to a spot in the sand where he had the two surfboards waiting, both perfectly coated in wax. 

“Go ahead and get on the board for me,” Leon gestured to the surfboard in the sand next to his. “We’ll work on your form first and then I’ll run through the steps, sound good?” 

Nodding, you walked over and stood on the board, “Sounds great, Mr. Leon.” Leon’s face flushed red, and it wasn't from a sunburn. He tried to laugh off the nickname, hoping you wouldn't notice the effect it had on him. 

“Uh… okay, form yeah,” Leon fumbled over his words, trying to find his composure as he stepped up onto his board, “Just copy me.” He positioned his left foot on the front of the board while making sure his right foot was equally spaced towards the back end of the board. His knees were loosely bent, with his torso facing out and arms extended to the side of him. He was quick to notice how intently you were observing him, looking more at his abs that were exposed from the half-zipped wetsuit than how you were supposed to position yourself. Leon stepped off his board and stood next to you, “Your turn.”

In your best attempt, you tried to mimic Leon’s movements on the board. Unfortunately, you were a bit too distracted and your form was severely lacking. All Leon could do was watch as you tried to make adjustments, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he was very obviously judging you. 

“Need help?”

“No I got it, hold on,” huffing out, trying to figure out what to fix.

Leon stepped closer, his hands hovering just inches from your waist, “Can I?” 

You nodded quickly, giving him the green light. Leon’s hand fell to your waist, turning your body outwards to match the form he had demonstrated. Your breath hitched whilst your eyes were glued to him, watching how he repositioned your body. He was concentrated and lost in thought trying to make sure he didn't make you uncomfortable in any way. His hands then extended your arms out, his fingers trailing lightly sending a chill up your spine. Luckily for the wetsuit, Leon wasn’t able to see the goosebumps that he caused. 

“Face forward,” he said faintly, guiding your jaw toward the horizon, “Yeah just like that, you’re doing great,”

“I think it’s my great teacher,” you smirked, keeping your head forward. Leon laughed, continuing to check your form. 

“Bend your knees just a little bit more,” his hands now resting on your hips, lowering you down slightly. The tension between the two of you was palpable, both of you becoming hyper-aware of each other.

“Like this?”

“Perfect,” Leon stepped back, removing his hands from you. He wasn't even gone a second and you were already missing his touch. “You’re a natural,” 

“I don't know about a natural,” 

“Hey, just my honest opinion,” Leon laughed, sticking his hands up in defense, “Ready for the rest of the lesson?”

Leon then walked you through the steps of getting up on the board, taking time to explain each motion while you two sat on the surfboards still in the sand. From here, he then demonstrated each of the steps to make sure you aced them. Starting with laying flat and paddling, to pushing up and getting into position. Leon gushed over how quickly you were catching on, but when your teacher was as handsome as him, it was quite easy to excel. 

A few hours had passed of lessons and shameless flirting from both parties. Your mind raced with the events of today and how Leon simply introduced himself just this morning. It felt like you had known him for much longer than just the day. You didn't realize how lost in thought you were until you heard Leon clearing his throat. 

“I think you’re ready to get out there,” Leon smiled, pulling your attention back to him as he lightly punched your shoulder. 

“You think so?” 

“For sure,” he smirked, grabbing his board and jogging towards the water. As quickly as you could, you scooped up your surfboard and chased after Leon ready to put your lesson to the test. 

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ

if you see any jarring typos pls lmk as usual

sorry for cutting it short im horrid, if anyone is interested i can make this a full-out series (surfer dates, etc)

[fandombead]

The Dancer

Hello!! This is my submission for Prinxiety Shipweek's prompt: Music.

Summary: Virgil is the small (like– 5'' tall) 16-year-old son of a woodcarver who crafts him a little dancer friend out of special wood he got from one of their regular clients. Imagine Virgil’s shock when the figure, his size, comes to life in the nighttime. (note: Fairy Tale-ish AU!)

WC: ~4.8k || It's on AO3!

@prinxietyweek !

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Music

Virgil stepped down and wandered out of his space in the walls onto his dad’s desk, trying to get a peek at the man’s latest project. 

Patton was extremely skilled at his craft, to the point he was renowned in all the land for his detailed, “impossible” works. He had learned from a great teacher and put in the work to always remember the lessons. It wasn't a miraculous talent he was born with, but a skill he cultivated. He liked to say he gave a piece of something he loved to all his precious creations. 

Virgil didn’t think much of it, but he was lucky. His dad often made everything he needed from scratch or tinkered out of something he thought would be useful, and it always surprised him how crafty and resourceful his dad was even when he wasn’t carving oak and cedar. 

Right now, Patton was bent in a way that surely would hurt when he finally got up, intently focused on his latest secret project that had captured Virgil’s nosey attentions entirely. It wasn’t near his birthday; that had passed a few months ago and he had gotten a new Violin (and it was incredible how good it managed to sound. Even better than the first model Virgil had learned to play with).

But Patton had been hiding this from him for weeks, and it was driving Virgil crazy. As it was, Patton knew where all his perches for looking out at the shop and people watching were, and had been very good at keeping the new…whatever it was out of sight.

Virgil had caught glimpses: Patton had chosen a rather expensive-looking hardwood that Virgil didn’t even recognize as any used before, which meant it either was for a top-paying commissioner or one of Patton’s major passion projects that would require a lot of detailing. He’d also ordered an odd mechanical base from Logan: the clockmaker several shops over who he often collaborated with. Having a custom part or apparatus from him wasn’t unusual, but the secrecy had Virgil more invested than he’d otherwise be. 

He tried to interrogate Logan from the counter when he’d dropped the boxed mystery device off a few days ago, but the man had simply smiled and told him to be patient and he’d surely get to see it soon. Virgil did not like that answer. It only kept him awake at night and more curious.

Virgil peeked out from Patton’s old design books on the desk, trying to see what his dad’s arm was blocking. There were interesting scraps of sparkly and sheer fabric littering the table and he could at least see that Patton was holding a paintbrush in his left hand, tongue out in concentration.

As Virgil tried to see, however, Patton cracked a knowing smile. “Heya, kiddo. Can’t help but want to peek, hmm?” Virgil ducked back behind the books guiltily before shuffling out at being caught. Patton set the brush down. “Well, it’s alright. I was actually just finishing the detail on this, he’s nearly done. I was going to introduce you at breakfast, but I think now is much more interesting.”

Virgil gave his dad a confused look. “‘He’?” 

Patton just grinned and told him to turn around for a moment which Virgil complied and did. Whatever just to get to finally see this…whatever it was Patton had created.

Virgil heard Patton shuffling and setting things down, then the light tap tap tap of his small mallet.

Something was set down again, closer behind Virgil and Patton finally let him turn to see.

Patton held an ornate little red box in the moonlight coming in from the window behind them. On top, poised gracefully on one pointed foot  was a figure of a beautiful dancer, with chestnut brown hair in waves that looked more soft than carved and a just as soft smile on a kind face. He looked similar to the dancer in the ballet Patton had taken him to last winter, in a shimmering long-sleeved shirt and embroidered gold vest. 

The figure in his hand was posed in a dance, as if captured right as he reached out his hand to a partner, waiting. His other leg was carefully positioned behind him, pointed rigidly. If not for his base, he’d probably be close to Virgil’s height. Virgil looked at the creation as he circled it in awe. Patton sat back and wiped the polish and paint from his hands, chuckling proudly. “So, whatcha think, Virgie? He’s pretty nice, yeah?” Virgil’s eyes were wide as he looked back at Patton, near sparkling. “How did you even make this?? It’s so– I’ve never seen you make anything this elaborate before.”

“Well, I was gifted a very rare and simply elegant block of wood from one of our regular clients, Sir Fraus. He says he got it during his travels but didn’t say what kind it was. Only that it was in thanks and that he thought I’d know what to make with something this rare. So, I figured that I should make something just as special. I'm excited to show him the next time he stops by. He’s got joints to be posable and everything– and just wait until you see this.” Patton reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a small gold key. Virgil watched, walking around to see as Patton stuck the small key into the back of the box and it clicked in. He turned it a few times, winding it up and then let go. The dancer began to slowly spin on his toe, the metal base he was attached to rotating.  

Virgil watched as the shimmery sleeves of his outfit caught the moonlight, unable to look away. Patton smiled, also admiring the dancer spun, dancing to an unheard tune as his arm that wasn’t poised moved up and down as he spun. 

“I’m only a bit disappointed I couldn’t add music to the box, but Logan didn’t have a comb the right size or the cylinder for the song I was hoping for anyway. Perhaps one day I can get one custom-made.” Virgil tilted his head as he watched, sitting next to Patton to watch as the figure slowed to a stop, arm down in rest again. 

“Did you…name him?” Virgil asked as Patton reached around his son to wind it up again.

“You know, it’s funny you mention that. I went to the nice woman who sells fabrics from her home in The Den– you know, that little shop district across town? She made the costumes for the play we saw. Anyway, I was explaining to her what I needed and asked for any outfit suggestions and somehow we got onto the topic of names being important for creations like this. She gave me a few, but I ended up liking one the most: ‘Roman’. What do you think?”

Virgil had to admit that was very fitting for the regal dancer. He liked it. “Roman,” he repeated, nodding in approval with a tiny smile he hid in his arm as they watched him spin again. “Suits him.” “I’d say his clothing suits him too.” Patton grinned and Virgil groaned, laying his head in his arms. “Baaad, that one was awful.”

Patton laughed, ruffling Virgil’s hair with a fingertip and a wide smile. 

“Hahaha, I bet Roman likes my puns!”

Virgil made a noise of doubt as Patton turned and looked at his colorful clock on the wall. “Ah, I stayed up far later than I meant to. You’re welcome to stay out here if you want, but I gotta get to bed. Early day tomorrow, as usual.” he hummed, standing. Virgil watched him and gave Patton’s hand a brief hug when it swept up to ‘hug’ him goodnight. “Don’t stay up too late, Virge.”

Virgil gave Patton a vague wave of his hand in acknowledgment, not taking his eyes off the dancer.

Patton made sure the shop was locked up and then left to his room in their home above the shop.

Virgil sat alone, going back to wind the box when it stopped. He really did think it’d be nice to see Roman dance to music. And then he realized that it was something he could provide.

Virgil got up and ran off to his room in the walls. There was his little workshop space Patton had carved out and covered for his privacy, with a little balcony, but he ended up having to go all the way back up to his bedroom adjacent to Patton’s. He could see Patton brushing his teeth out of his balcony but didn’t stop to chat as he grabbed his black violin case from the corner by his shelf bed. Then he was immediately headed back down. He jogged out onto the worktable again, his instrument case already open as he set it down.

Virgil spun the key as far as he could, which was admittedly difficult after 5 turns, but he used all his strength to get the coil as tight as he could. Then he picked up the violet violin and started to play the first song that his hands picked: one that he’d learned by ear from the record Patton liked to play in the shop the most. 

They’d heard this one at the ballet and it felt fitting for the dancer still diligently posed on one foot. 

The pretty tune filled the air around him and Virgil smiled as it looked like the dancer was moving to it with the one arm that shifted as he spun. He could almost imagine he really was playing musician for this dancer, Roman. His vest twinkled in the gentle moonlight, and it was mesmerizing as it created a shimmer around him. Virgil was so lost in the music and gazing at the stunning figure that he did not notice the soft click of the key stopping.

He finished the song out, the lilting drawn-out end fading gradually, and the dancer stopped turning with his arm down in rest. Virgil was smiling, proud, and a bit sheepish that he’d even done it. But it was nice.

And then the carve dancer blinked, and Virgil gasped, nearly dropping his violin. He froze, staring as the dancer’s pretty dark eyes seemed to focus on him. Then it moved again, head tilted curiously. Virgil dove behind the toolkit holding Patton’s chisels, the nearest thing. 

Virgil stared in awe as the figure twisted around curiously, gazing around the shop and tentatively looking over to where Virgil hid. He tried to get down, stumbling as he pulled his foot free and nearly fell off the box entirely, much to Virgil’s anxiety spike as he gasped. Thankfully he caught himself on the edge with his hands and was able to carefully sit and hop down.

The figure was alive…alive?! Enchanted?? He didn’t think Patton knew that, surely! He would have shown him– or at least mentioned it so that his anxious son wouldn’t freak out. Was he even awake right now? The wooden man danced a little about the table, wobbly for a few steps before getting used to moving rather quickly and happy about it. 

That was a wooden person smiling over at him. Virgil scrambled back, startled. “How—how are you moving right now?! My dad carved you out of a hunk of wood!!”

The possibly possessed wooden figure blinked at him— despite Patton having never created eyelids with which to do so— hands clasping in front of himself as he stood and appeared to be listening, and even just standing there he looked like he was posed perfectly to begin dancing.

Virgil was a little unnerved that he just kept staring but his eyes were curious rather than judging or belittling like a lot of people’s tended to be when meeting him. Though their being nearly the same tiny height probably made that observation moot.

And he was the first person Roman(?) had properly met. 

Virgil didn’t know what he was waiting for but the other suddenly spared him from needing to figure it out by hurrying off to some unknown goal.

Virgil jolted at the sudden movement, scrambling up to see where the man—figure— Roman was going.

Roman popped out from behind the bookend, nearly giving Virgil a heart attack. Though before Virgil could properly decide if he was running for the wall door, Roman held up what he’d retrieved, out to Virgil with an eager look.

He had Virgil’s violin and bow, carefully held out in offering. Virgil blinked dumbly as he slowly took it.

Roman bounced on the balls of his feet a little before splaying his arms out, standing on the tips of his toes again. He was looking expectantly at Virgil and the nervous teen clutched the instrument as he realized. 

Virgil lifted the violin to tuck under his chin, mind reeling for what to play. He watched Roman stand straighter still and send a dashing smile his way, and suddenly Virgil found it easier just to let the melody that felt right flow. They both anticipated the start of the music as Virgil played the first clear note. His hands did the rest on their own, skillfully guiding the bow along the strings.

And Roman…Virgil had no idea how he knew to dance in such a way. He danced like a man finally free of rigid demands, and it was more enchanting than the beautifully poised expectation of the dancer frozen in place on a spinning point. Despite the freedom to move, Roman seemed to enjoy the little fast turns and twirls, and he spotted Virgil to keep from growing dizzy. It was impressive and alluring, the thin ruffly tule at the bottom of his shirt waving around his waist even as he stopped, catching himself gracefully with a flourish.

This was a man unrestricted, flowing in sync to the timeless music like he’d practiced it a hundred times and now had his opening night performance. His vest glittered stunningly as he moved with more grace and freedom than a person made of wood should have been able to. But it was natural for him. Roman moved across the table elegantly, the resonating sounds working with him as he reached toward the streaming moonlight like it was where their unseen audience might be. Then he was stretching into a near bow as he stepped back, going into tight spins as he twirled away, arms tucked in.

Virgil was in awe, turning to keep the dancer in sight as he played his violin for him. Roman beamed in his exuberance for just a moment before tamping the pure joy to focus again. The smile never fully left.

The dance and song sped up in tandem, and Roman swept around Virgil close enough to reach out and take his hand. Virgil was captivated and almost stuttered to a stop as Roman used his shoulder as a support, hand barely applying weight as Roman leaned in with dazzling bright eyes. It was a long gaze and yet just as quickly as he’d appeared at Virgil’s side, Roman was flitting away as if carried off by the drifting tune as the song peaked. 

As the song finished, both Roman and Virgil stepped into their final poses, Roman’s not dissimilar to the one he took on the stand, with pointed feet and one arm curved high above his head. Both seemed breathless in their own way, watching one another as they stood still, just taking it in. Virgil moved first, lowering his arms and letting a little grin spread on his face despite himself. “That was amazing!! How do you know how to dance??? It’s like you just knew??” Roman let himself down from the pose, the bright smile back as he padded over to Virgil. He laid his hands over Virgil’s bow hand and bounced happily, trying to convey his own excitement. Up close, Virgil could definitely still see the wooden body that made up the dancer, and the little joints that allowed him to pose freely were visible through his sheer long sleeves. Virgil held his violin to his chest, looking at him in wonder. “Incredible…so..you’re Roman, right? Is that actually your name?” Roman tilted his head and then nodded happily. 

“Really? Because I doubt my dad’s just guessed that out of the thousands of names, right?”

Roman pointed to the stairs that led up to the living area of their home then back at himself. Virgil looked a little confused. “I’m guessing you can’t talk, since…no voice box?” 

Roman stilled a bit but nodded once more, unbothered by this but acknowledging it. 

“Oh…well, it’s nice to meet you, Roman. You’re an incredible dancer,” he stated, looking away sheepishly and couldn’t believe he was embarrassed right now to be talking to a magical doll person. 

Roman perked up at that though and insistently tapped Virgil’s hand, nodding hard as he pointed at Virgil. He clapped happily and Virgil’s face flushed. “I-I’m still learning, but thank–thank you– do you– uh, need to rest? Sit down?”

Roman shrugged but tugged Virgil’s hand as he walked to sit down by the red box he belonged to. Virgil went willingly, sitting beside Roman who tucked his legs to the side, probably limited in how he could move this way.

They were able to see the moon and stars through the window across the room. 

“Are you cursed?” Virgil suddenly asked without thinking and winced as soon as it left his mouth. 

He glanced at Roman, who very much seemed to be chuckling at him, even as no sound came out. Ro shook his head. Virgil relaxed a little. 

“Oh, good– so just a magical creation? Are you…aware…of things? Like when you were frozen earlier?”

Roman looked thoughtful, then reached around Virgil to point at the key in the box.

Virgil tried very hard not to blush at the closeness as Roman peered at him and then the key insistently. 

“T-The key? Okay, you–you know about the key??”

Roman frowned, then mimed turning it and dramatically opening his eyes. He pointed to his ears and the violin. Virgil’s tired mind raced.

“...you– you’re aware when your key is turned? The music does it? O-Or, like– you can see and hear and things…?” he tried.

Roman smiled and pulled away, nodding. Virgil wasn’t sure exactly what he got right, but he was pretty sure Roman could see and hear whenever the key was turned. He started to worry. “And when the key isn’t turned?? You aren’t–aware of that too, right?” Roman put out his hands and shook his head gently. He seemed to search for the right thing to attempt to communicate before he mimicked sleeping.

Virgil relaxed as he seemed to finally understand. “Oh. Okay, it’s like you’re not awake, then? …How do you even know what sleeping is.”

Roman just smiled and shrugged, but the look he was giving him led Virgil to think that was not all.

Virgil talked for what became hours with Roman. He ended up showing him around the shop using his bridges and walkways along the walls, holding his hand as they went. Roman seemed perfectly happy to listen, and he’d point and get Virgil’s attention when he wanted to know what something was. 

Virgil played him another song when Roman silently requested such. He had no idea how the night was over so soon. They were back on Patton’s worktable and Roman was standing by his box, trying to convey to Virgil that he had to go back. 

Virgil was disheartened as he watched. “Can I see you again soon? I’m sure Dad would love to meet you, and maybe then you won’t have to go back on that thing.”

Roman turned back to Virgil, interest peaked. He gave Virgil a soft look and hugged him, gentle and earnest as he tried to convey what he felt. Virgil was very still as he cautiously settled his arms around Roman’s back. 

Roman pulled away too soon, and Virgil let him go. Virgil watched as he settled his foot back on the support, and posed as he had been, confident and with a professional ease. Virgil didn’t know for certain when, but between one blink and the next, Roman was once again just a figure on the musicless box.

He would figure out what he had to do to see him again.

—-

The next morning, Virgil tried to show Patton when he woke up. He played part of a song from Swan Lake and watched, but Roman did not shift from his spot, much to Virgil’s confusion. Patton enjoyed his son playing, though seemed a little confused about what he was supposed to see. “That was lovely, kiddo! It really is lovely to watch him spin to music.”

But Virgil just sighed, shaking his head. “No, he– last night– he was dancing! To my music, and smiling, and…and…” his face grew hotter as Patton was smiling at him, hands clasped and Virgil quickly looked away. 

“I’m really happy you like him, Virgie! Maybe it’s a good thing we never found the music for his box. You playing whatever you want is a wonderful idea.” 

Virgil was dejected. Did it only happen once? Had he truly dreamed it? No, he had seen it, felt Roman’s cool hand in his. Was he shy to come out in front of his dad? But Roman had seemed genuinely eager to say hello when Virgil mentioned them meeting. Maybe it was just conditional? Roman wouldn’t likely know– he’d just been just as surprised as Virgil when it had happened the first time.

He brainstormed about this in his room most of the day, coming out occasionally to help Patton around the shop– he was very good at moving small things about and getting them for his dad, as well as ringing up customers– and to eat.

That night, Virgil went down to the shop after dinner. Violin in hand, he turned the key fewer times than before and started to play a pretty, upbeat tune. The wooden dancer spun stiffly, but as the song neared its end, the arm became less rigid as it lifted with more grace. The smile etched in place became wider still and Roman shifted, lifting his foot higher then back down as he bowed. 

Virgil grinned, stopping as Roman found him on the table nearby and waved. Virgil quickly pulls himself up onto the base. “Roman! You’re still here,” he breathed, and Roman gave him a bright look and eager nod.

Virgil offered his hands. “Here, let me help this time.” Roman gratefully took the help, holding Virgil’s shoulders as he carefully lifted his foot free of the metal stand. Virgil helped and was shocked at how easy it was to lift him for support. He wasn’t as dense as a flesh and blood being, and Virgil didn’t know what to do with the fact that he could easily hold Roman over his head if he wanted to. He let go of his waist before he got any more silly thoughts and hopped down from the box. He offered Roman his hands and Roman took them to get down easily as well, hopping with a grace he apparently always possessed.

It was another night of strolling around the shop and performing for one another as music filled the air. They ended up on the railed windowsill beside the door. Roman somehow made him feel like he was a part of the dance despite Virgil being his musician, dancing captivatingly around him. Even as the song ended, Roman danced in the silence, and the music was in his head as he enticed Virgil to join him. Virgil nervously set his violin down and couldn’t refuse that beautiful smile as Roman took his hands and danced with him. 

Virgil honestly felt like it was only Roman’s skill that kept them from tripping over each other. He certainly didn’t know how he’d become the lead in this soundless song that they both knew the steps for. But he twirled Roman easily and guided him into dips that he’d seen dance partners do on the stage. It was relaxed and free of any real form, but they were miraculously in sync together.

He got bolder and confident with the trust Roman put in him, and how had he ever earned that?? He settled his hands at Roman’s waist as the other guided them there and he lifted Roman with little trouble. Roman settled a hand on Virgil’s shoulder as he posed and Virgil turned with him, then let go to raise his arms high, trusting the person supporting him. 

When Virgil set Roman back down, Roman was giddy, hands waving at his sides as he jumped and did a little happy dance in place. He threw his arms around Virgil, and that time he really almost did knock him over from the force of the hug. Virgil laughed, letting himself go to the ground as one arm wrapped around Roman. “Yeah–yes, it was fun–”

Roman’s smile couldn’t get much bigger as he tucked against Virgil, happily nudging him and content.

Virgil had never danced with someone in his life; not like this, where their hand wasn’t his platform or partner. Not in a way where he was on equal footing, able to hold them close. They sat there together, catching their breath and gazing out at both the sleeping town and the stars above. Virgil must have nodded off because suddenly the sky was lighter and Roman was shifting next to him.

Virgil sat up straighter as Roman stood, looking back across the shop to the table. To his stand. He looked down at Virgil and offered him a hand, gesturing. Virgil’s at-ease expression changed to one of concern. “You want to go back?”

Roman looked off to the side with a small, sad shrug. 

“If you don’t want to, just stay, you don’t have to go back.” Virgil insisted, taking one of Roman’s hands in both of his own.

Roman gave him a gentle smile, free hand held to Virgil’s cheek. He stood on his toes and pressed a kiss to Virgil’s forehead, hoping it said all he needed for him. Virgil held his hand there for as long as he could before Roman began to pull away. Virgil squeezed his hand imploringly.

“W-Wait! What if you just don’t go back onto the box? Then you won’t turn back again, you could stay! I-I’d love if–if you could stay?” he practically pleaded.

Roman turned back slowly to him, holding his hand reassuringly but his expression was apologetic. He looked down at his foot: a simple cloth slipper that covered the wood and the hole to anchor him to his place.   

Virgil shook his head. “You don’t have to get back up there! Dad will absolutely understand once he meets you— please. Let’s just try it?”

Roman looked hesitant as he looked over at the growing dawn light filtering through the window. But he nodded obligingly and settled beside Virgil, resting his head lightly against Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil tiredly held his hand and they sat there against the window frame to wait together, though really it was just an excuse to not say goodbye again. 

Virgil was not truly surprised when Roman went still and rigid against his side, his hand losing its grip even as Virgil continued to hold it, gently stroking with his thumb. He felt disappointed tears brim for a moment, but he didn’t let them fall. Roman wasn’t gone. Virgil could bring him back in the evening. But it wasn’t fair that he would not get to see a sunrise.

As Patton found him and fretted about whether Virgil had been out here all night (and he didn’t ask why was Roman off the box), Virgil was devising a way to change that. As his dad gently scooped him up and took him upstairs to deposit him into his little bed in the wall, Virgil lay there vowing that he’d find a way to break the spell keeping Roman trapped to the night. He deserved to bask and dance freely in the sheer unreflected light of day. 

Virgil would show him all of life he could, beyond the shop and all the music he could dance to to his heart’s content. Virgil wanted to play all his favorite songs for him and to dance with him again. Roman would get to really live, and Virgil was determined to be by his side through it all. 

[ideas-4-stories]

NOOOOOOOO I LOST THE AU I WROTE FOR YOU 😭😭😭 I LITERALLY SENT IT AND TUMBLR SAID "NETWORK ERROR". L FOR THE WIFI. L. Not cool I'm literally crying I thought that AU was genius. It was a Teacher!Buggy AU with Crocomom and Dadhawk. + Shanks co-parenting Luffy with Crocodile. That note was so long I literally spent like 45 mins writing it here on your ask and it was just. Gone. Or I think it did. Why does life hate me. I'm just gonna be brief with this cuz I still think it's golden lmao. Croco and Mihawk work long hours so their kids (Luffy, Zoro, Perona) have to wait for a few hours until they're picked up by their parents. The school doesn't have school buses bc I said so (no I am not cruel it's just out of my budget /j). So Buggy takes the responsibility to keep them comfortable and entertained while they wait. Croco and Mihawk meeting this charming (and clown looking) blue-haired guy and they start courting him. Shanks gets dragged in on the courting bc of Luffy. Also he was already courting Buggy. I didn't write their process of courting I basically skipped and went,, their wedding will take part in a Goth castle. And the design are all sunshine and rainbows (literally). Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Vivi, Zoro and Luffy being in a class along with other kids. Franky, Robin, Jinbei and Brook are in higher classes. Chopper is atom. Not here in the world yet. Perona is like, 2-3yrs older than her brothers so. Yeah *awkwardly shuffles* (I love perona I swear-). Implied Zosan. Some rando: but you didn't imply shi— Me: Shhh I did. *gaslighting*. Law is also there in the classroom with lower grade strawhats. He's suffering. He only attends 3 days a week tho, he's mostly homeschooled bc of his sickness. He's homeschooled by Cora. (You can pry Law and Cora from my cold dead hands. You can separate them when I dissolve into ashes). Don't worry as he gets older his sickness is cured. Ofc he's cured by Cora. He's saved by Cora in every universe. In every AU. Every Era. Every life they will ever live. I will die on that hill– *applies the nobody dies/everyone lives tag on this AU* let my babies be happy pls. Let my man Cora live and travel the world with this emo boy (Law). Doffy isn't real, he can't hurt anyone. Ace is there. Sabo is there. Every One Piece character is out there somewhere. They're like hidden stones and you have 0.02% of finding them. I thought I was just making a Teacher!Buggy AU but then it turns into a Modern!AU for everyone. Let's gooooo. Sora divorces with Judge and remarry with Zeff so now Sanji lives with all his brothers and his sister. They get separate classrooms tho, and reiju is perona's age so she's besties with her. (I do not play by canon's rules with ages bc i live in my own world) They both tease their brothers (Sanji and Zoro) about their crushes on each other. The heart crew is there. Bepo is a dog, a very fluffy one. Kuina is alive. Kaya is there, same classroom with Usopp. I have no idea how to continue this lmao, but I do hope you find this interesting bc Buggy is 100% great with kids and probably teaches well bc he is a big nerd and makes lessons interesting. (Also, the whole reason why I wrote this instead of letting the idea slip through my mind like the others is bc the image of two goth men courting a clown looking mf was funny to me. So here we are lmao. The way I wrote this makes Shanks look like he's the person they let into their open relationship twice lol I'm so sorry 😭😭)

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

That's really sad, I really like this idea (though I see Shanks and Buggy more as siblings, but I understand the idea of Shuggy) It's fine that this became about so many people, I really like this.

Teacher!Buggy sounds so cool, you know that he's the flashiest and maybe one of the craziness of the things he'll do to get his students good things that will boost their learning. He knows that every kid might not have the same learning paths as others.

How many classes does this man teach? Who knows, too many for how much he gets paid. All teachers needs to get paid more.

I would think Jinbei and Brook being other fun teachers in the school, like Tom could be as well!

I really like this idea, and the imagine of two gothic men trying to court a clown-looking mf is really funny to me as well.

[amorest-viesse]

[Your Warm Hand in Mine] - Chloe SR Card Story Translation

Ft. Figaro (Akira and Western wizards mention in card episode)

A Line for the Lady - Chapter 1

[Weeping Princess’ Castle]

Chloe: May I have your hand, my lady?

Chloe: …No, that’s not right. Maybe it needs to be more gallant.

Chloe: To ensure you’re not swept away by someone else, may I have your hand, my lady?

Figaro: Ahaha, how forward of you, but by all means.

Chloe: Whoa! Where did you come from?

Figaro: Oops, sorry for the scare. You just seemed so serious, I thought it might help to have a partner.

Figaro: Although, it doesn’t look like things are going too well right now.

Chloe: Ahaha… You got me there.

Chloe: Truth be told, I just can’t get the hang of this escorting thing. No matter how much I practice, I always get nervous and totally freak out.

Figaro: Really? I never would’ve guessed from the number of times I’ve seen you invite the Master Sage out. 

Chloe: It’s totally different with them though!

Chloe: We’re basically BFFs, so if I goof up, we can just laugh it off!

Chloe: I can’t exactly do that during a ceremony with strangers though… If I leave a bad first impression, it’s totally over for me!

Figaro: Hmm, I see the dilemma now. Well then, what if you did this?

Figaro: Don’t put too much pressure on yourself and try treating it like a game.

Figaro: You Western wizards are always doing that kind of stuff right?

Chloe: Think of it like a game? You know, that might just work!

Chloe: Oh, but what should the setting be? A ball? A birthday party? A theatrical production?

Chloe: What do you think, Figaro?

A Line for the Lady - Chapter 2

Figaro: Let me think…

Figaro: What if… you were the heir of a noble family meeting your betrothed for the first time, and you needed to take her out on a very special date?

Chloe: Me? An aristocrat?

Figaro: If the situation is too difficult to imagine, I could always turn into your beautiful betrothed for practice sake.

Chloe: Eh!? You? As a noblewoman!?

Chloe: As much as I’d like to see that… I wanna give it a shot on my own first.

Figaro: Ahaha, fine by me.

Chloe: Alrighty then, here I go. …Ahem.

Chloe: …It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, my fair lady. I have been eagerly awaiting this day. 

Chloe: Dressed in dusky blue with luminous diamonds about your neck, you’re the very vision of a star, descending from the heavens to grace us with your ethereal presence…

Chloe: Now, may I have your hand, my lady?

Figaro: …

Chloe: So? How did I do?

Figaro: It was even better than I’d expected. You really are Rustica’s apprentice.

Figaro: I think you’d charm just about anyone like that.

Chloe: Really?

Figaro: Really. Every word was elegantly and beautifully delivered.

Figaro: Although, it was funny to hear you compliment your partner’s dress and accessories without them actually being there. I’m sure no one but you could’ve come up with a line like that.

Chloe: Ehehe, I’m glad to hear it! I think I can totally take on the real thing now.

Chloe: Thanks so much for helping me out, Figaro!

We Gotta Go All Out! - Card Episode

[Manor Living Room]

Chloe: This should go… here. And the fabric should be gathered here…

Akira: Good afternoon, Chloe. Is that a new dress design?

Chloe: Oh, Master Sage! Great timing!

Chloe: This is super random, but what kinda dress do you think would look good on Rustica!?

Akira: This is for Rustica, you say?

Akira: Um, I feel like he could make anything work, but maybe… He’d like one with a bluebird embroidered on it.

Chloe: You think so? Alright then, I’ll keep that in mind.

Akira: Did Rustica request this?

Chloe: Ehehe, these outfits are actually for a special class session.

Chloe: When I told the other Westerners about how nervous I was during the mission, they offered to give me a special lesson on escorting…

Chloe: We’re using transformational magic so I can have practice with both men and women!

Akira: Oh I see now! That sounds like a lot of fun.

Chloe: Right? Figaro also gave me some really good advice during the mission.

Chloe: Which is why he’ll be there too as a special guest instructor!

Akira: (A Western wizard lesson with Figaro in attendance… I’m really curious now…)

Akira: …Hey, do you think there’s room for one more? I want to see how your lesson goes.

Chloe: Of course there is! In fact, you should join us as a participant!

Chloe: I’ll make sure to design you the most beautiful dress and dashing suit ever!

Home Screen Voice Line

“Ehehe, do you remember how I gave everyone presents to show my appreciation the other day? Well, as a thanks for the thanks, some of them gave me a gift back. I totally wasn’t expecting it, so it made me super happy. W- Wait, you’re giving me one too!?”

[tyrantisterror]

Woah, that’s pretty heavy, dude. I’ve never seen anyone analyze the series that way, but now that you brought those themes up, they seem pretty damn obvious. Can you elaborate on this interpretation of the shorts and the series? As well as each version’s respective symbolism? How do you think the main cast gaining new colors at the end of the original, only to lose them for the new series factors in to this interpretation. What do Roy and Lesley represent?

Each of the original shorts puts the three main puppets in the role of students and has a different teacher force a "lesson" upon them.

In Creativity, the teacher keeps telling the students how great creativity is, while constantly shutting down their attempts to actually express their own thoughts and feelings, whether it be by questioning the purpose of her arbitrary rules for what they should do or by making artistic choices she doesn't approve of - "Green is not a creative color" isn't just a funny joke, but the whole point of the short and how education often fails when trying to teach art. Because schools put so much emphasis on "objective" evaluations of student progress, they often fail to truly teach inherently subjective subjects like art and creative writing - you can't let people express themselves freely if you have to force them to fit a super strict rubric. "Be creative, but only use the colors I allow you to, only do the activities I've assigned, only think the way I think" is inherently contradictory advice, and by the end of the short the students are so frustrated that they express their creativity in a way that gets them banned from doing it ever again - "let's all agree to never be creative again" is where the short ends.

In Time, the teacher tries to explain the concept of time in an inherently over-simplified and often borderline inaccurate and nonsensical way, to the increasing frustration of the students. The teacher specifically puts a big emphasis on 1. being punctual and 2. believing that the past was generically shitty but it's done so we don't have to worry about it, and the future will be great so don't worry about it. All of these "lessons" are designed to make the students think about time only in the sense of it being a rule they have to obey - a schedule to stick to. When the students actually ask insightful questions about time - "Is time even real? Does anyone know?" - the teacher gets angry and punishes them by forcing them to contemplate their own mortality, all to reinforce the idea that time is just an arbitrary set of rules they have to obey or else.

In Love, the yellow puppet is given lots of empty platitudes about how great love and compassion is and how he should value them, only to then have a bunch of arbitrary rules about how and when one should love heaped on him once he agrees that love is important, with the rules eventually saying his love should be to some nebulous authority figure - "Our king" in the cult imagery of the episode is very much a stand-in for authority in general. We're shown how education can make even the most wholesome-sounding of lessons twisted for a purpose of controlling and manipulating students, forcing them to believe in things that aren't real for the benefit of a select few.

I feel I don't need to explain the Computer episode to anyone who's been in a public school's computer class in the 90's/early 2000's, it kind of explains itself. But a huge problem in education to this day is the persistent belief that you can make students teach themselves by throwing shitty yet expensive "cutting edge" education programs at them - it's what 90% of school budget increases go into because it makes the politicians who buy them look like they care without actually putting any work into understanding what education really needs.

The nutrition episode makes fun of how goddamn mercurial nutrition education has been over the last few decades - one minute eggs are good for you, then you're having too much of them, then you need more of them again, it's fucking madness - and how ultimately all nutrition education does is give you so much anxiety about the foods you pick for yourself that you just buy whatever's advertised for you the flashiest, even if it's really bad for you (like canned meat from one of your few remaining friends).

In the final episode of the original shorts, the Red Guy, having escaped his teachers, finds himself in the dreary adult world, and despite everything actually pines for the simpler days of being a student. He decides to look into the nature of his education, and sees not only how shitty and half-baked a system it is, but also the true root of it: that it wasn't made for the benefit of students, but for the parents who made those kids and want them indoctrinated so they behave better. That's what Roy represents - the parent who doesn't really care about their child learning anything useful beyond "obey the people in charge."

As for the show being about the horrors of the mundane adult world, well, I think that's pretty obvious. One episode is literally about getting jobs. Another is about confronting your own eventual death. They're not subtle about it. And hell, it builds off the finale of the original shorts - Red Guy already transitioned from childhood to adulthood, it's only fitting his pals came with him.

[driedpeanuts69]

GENIUS , PETER PARKER

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: spidey has been struggling to get into certain buildings when on the hunt for criminals, so you cook something up for him

(inspired by the spider-man games!)

warnings: fluff, cute, sweet, i imagine it as andrew garfield but you can imagine it as any spiderman you want, also set in the mcu world (you work in a lab with stark and banner)

“What’chu up to?”

You looked over your shoulder with a small smile. You dealt with authority fine, but when the authority is a man with 7 PhD’s and another who is a world renowned billionaire, authority gets a bit overwhelming.

“I’m making something.”

Tony puffed out his cheeks with a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, what?”

You spun in your chair to show off your workbench, a small bundle of red and black with eight metal legs. “Is that a spider?” Bruce asked. His glasses were pushed onto his head with a pen levelled on his ear.

“Mhm. It’s- It’s a prototype that you control through a mask, oh! Like Iron Man’s mask—“

“Thanks, kid.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes and carried on. “Automated by electroactive polymer and equipped with plasma deconstruction and reconstruction tools.” You grinned like a madman. “There’s four eyes with infrared lasers designed to create 3D scans of the environment, which will be super helpful detecting heat signals from people—“

“Y’know, this sounds perfect for a certain friendly neighbourhood Spider-man.”

You chuckled and nodded along with Tony’s word. You thought it would be a nice surprise for Peter since you knew it was hard for him sometimes. The worry and panic of not being able to save someone in time, or even find them — it was heartbreaking.

“Why do you think it’s a spider?”

“I don’t know,” Bruce said. “Wouldn’t it be better as a… uh…”

“Mini Iron Man figurine floating about?”

You snorted as a half-assed laugh and went back to tinkering with the Spider-Bot. “No. It has jets on the belly so it can hover certain heights, and it has legs… so it sticks. Like a spider.”

“It’s very innovative,” Bruce admitted while he lingered around you. His eyes were stuck on the small spider — fully electronic and metal.

“Mhm, it’s great. Can you do Iron Man next?” Tony crossed his arms with a teasing grin on his face. “Pep would love one of these.”

“No, you’d love to have it to annoy her.” You chuckled. “I’m not putting her through that.”

“Fine, I’ll just steal the blueprints when you’re sleeping.”

“Woah, you’re gonna rob a high school student?” You faked a frown. “I can’t believe Mr. Multi-Billionaire would do that to an innocent child!”

“Oh, save it.”

Bruce was just laughing through it all as his finger dragged along the bony metal exterior. “How strong are the plasma shots?”

“Strong enough to knock someone unconscious, not strong enough to severely maim or kill. Just like Spidey’s motto.”

“Pretty sure that’s not his motto—“

“Do you ever stop?”

Bruce huffed dramatically before checking the intricate designs along the back. “Is it to match his suit?”

You shrugged. At first, you tried to, until you realised bright red spiders aren’t exactly a norm. “I’ve made it mostly black and then red… maybe it’ll pass as a black widow.”

“Don’t tell Nat about that—“

“I obviously meant the spider!” You groaned. “God, you’re infuriating.”

“You love me really.” Tony said with a grin.

“Yeah, only ‘cause you’re paying me.”

“I love you too, kid.”

You blinked hard and prayed maybe that would get him to shut up, but then the best thing ever happened and Pepper called him through FRIDAY. He rambled something about how his lady wants him, and left with a stupid goodbye (he flicked your forehead and took Bruce’s pen).

“When is Pete coming?” Bruce asked. “Don’t you guys go to the same school? You finish together—“

“He’s on the maths team, remember? You came in on us doing flashcards in here.”

“Right, when he was using his webs to cover his own eyes—“

“And then you had to make the serum to melt it. Yup, he sure learnt his lesson from that.”

Bruce chuckled before stretching his back, a low groan spilling from his lips before he pressed a hand to your shoulder. “He’ll love it, kiddo.”

“You think?”

He hummed. “Definitely. I’m sure he’ll be jealous.”

“Oh, Peters not really the jealous kind—“

“God, you two…” He drawled on before leaving the lab, the doors closing automatically once he was gone.

With Bruce and Tony leaving the lab to yourself (which was only allowed to happen after Tony removed the temporary ban after you and Peter created a cocktail molotov because you ‘didn’t believe it actually worked’) you spun back around to focus on your workbench.

You’ve only created one Spider-Bot, a carved initial on its stomach that belonged to you. It was perfect. You tested out previous prototypes and they all had one missing factor — the shape. A smaller spider that had a high boiling and melting point metal was amazing.

“Hi.”

You jumped a mile, eyes bulging in your skull as you lifted your head to stare at the new figure. Stupid Peter. “Pete!” You groaned. “You scared the shit out of me!”

His eyes widened and he dropped his skateboard on the floor before rushing over. “I’m sorry- really sorry—“ You just blinked, and he sheepishly smiled. “Sorry…”

You brushed him off with a short sweet smile and stood up from your chair. He rushed over and took your spot before placing his long fingers on your hips. He gave a slight squeeze and you sat down on his lap.

“I got you a present,” you said as you brushed away any remaining parts or tools so it at least looked nice. “Y’know how you’ve always said there’s certain places you can’t get into?”

He hummed and rested his chin on your shoulder, eyes closed as he swayed to himself. You just chuckled and took his hand into yours before laying it over your stomach.

“Well, Ive found a solution.”

He opened his eyes. “You have?” He quickly looked down at your workbench and although you couldn’t see him, you could feel his jaw stretch and a smile to take place on his lips. “Holy shit.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s a spider.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and twisted your torso to look at him. “It’s not just a spider, Pete. Did you bring your suit?” Before he could answer, you pulled down the neckline of his shirt and saw the familiar red hue. “You wear it to maths club?”

“I’m Spider-Man.”

You giggle. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“You’re pretty?”

“I don’t think my boyfriend will appreciate that,” You teased.

“Yeah, but I’m Spider-Man.”

You laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back with excitement. “Okay, okay, back on track. Inspect it.”

“Inspect it? Like- like I’m a doctor?”

“Sure. Just have a look please!”

He chuckled at your impatience before moving his hands from your hips to hold the spider in his palms. It stretched alive, the metal legs strangely silent as it moved in circles around his hands.

“Is that electroactive polymer?”

You hummed excitedly.

“And are those— are those jets?”

“It can fly!”

“It has its own webshooters—and plasma! Holy… wow.” The spider stopped moving as its head twisted up to look at Peter. “What can it do?”

“Get into vents, or cracks in the walls, or even doors. Stuff like that. Basically anything a Spider-Man can’t get through.” You say. “It sends location alerts to the EMT’s, destroy walls, and scans the environment to help you find people. Or find entryways.”

“This is… you’re so cool.” He mumbled sweetly, starstruck and probably a bit excited. “How long did this take?”

“I’m not telling you, but now I have the blueprints for it, if one ever gets destroyed then give me a call and I’ll fix you up a new one in seconds.”

Peter dragged the tip of his finger along the spine of the spider before looking into your eyes. He was blushing violently, maybe because you knew him so well or maybe because you was just so fucking smart, before his large hands took you captive.

“I love you,” He mumbled before smashing his lips to yours, a sweet yet passionate kiss where his hold on your jaw tightened and his other rolled down to the side of your neck. “You’re so hot.”

“‘cause I created a Spider-Bot?”

“Because you’re so smart.” He answered back truthfully, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I would’ve just suffered… but you-“

“I didn’t want you to suffer.”

“Exactly!” He pressed one more kiss to your lips before pulling back. “I love you.”

Relishing in his happiness, you raked your fingers through his hair and smiled. “I love you too.”

[shhh-secret-time]

A Land Born Twice

"Don't take your eyes off me. You'll miss what I can do."

Prologue

The land known to man was born twice: first, as a spectacle performed by the Gods. Then once again by mortal men who sought fit to mold the precious gift into a wonder. Historians have long dedicated whole lifetimes to trying to figure out where it all started really, could something so enormous, so beyond our understanding really be told through script and tongue?

Maybe, but that wasn't your area of expertise.

No, you were not sent from your home amongst the humans to the Elven capital to talk about history, debating the existence of such Gods or ancient spirits. You were not dressed in the finest silks and cloths that coin could buy, just so you could sit in some lesson on the makings of the world. You were sent across this vast land for one job.

To make history remember you.

With your head held high you make your way across the silvery floors of the castle, each step you took aligned with the string instrument that echoed down the halls. A click of your heels, another note. The men who followed you did so in silence, the plate and chain of the armor threatened to drown out the sound of the peaceful lullaby.

Knights from the human kingdom tend to sport the colors of earthy browns and shades of red. The lower ranking knights were restricted to browns, it was only when they climbed the ranks that they got to don the splashes of red. So, when the King sent you out in the company of the only knight in the kingdom to wear a red cloak, it put into a grander perspective just how important this meeting was.

Ser Clyde Dovakin, the only man in the kingdom to be seen sporting the red cloak, walked by your side with a lazy arm thrown onto the hilt of his sword. His steel knight’s helmet tucked under his other arm. Perhaps it was the amity, showing the Elven people that he meant no harm. Or it could be the fact that despite his rank as Knight Commander, Ser Clyde had a reputation for slacking off.

One look at him and it was easy to tell. From the way his hair remained unkept, despite never wearing the helmet designed to protect him, to the way he carried himself with such carefree steps. The lazy smile on his face would have just about anyone fooled. That he was the most talented swordsman of this age.

But you knew better, you were trained to know better. That's why you were requested by name to be sent to this meeting. Just beyond the great wooden doors that rest at the end of the hall lies the very thing that will decide the relations between your people and the elven people going forward.

Past those great doors sat a council of women and men alike, pointed ears and fair skin that ranged from different shades. Timeless wonders made of flesh surrounding a thick oak table, whispering amongst themselves. A few dressed in similar silks and garments to yours, others equipped with leather armor; weapons resting behind their chairs.

Ivory tiles long forgotten in the hallway, instead the flooring turns to the brown soil that the castle rests on. Four walls in the room covered with various plants, parts of great trees that seem to stretch on forever, and dim firefly lights that help illuminate the chambers. Quills and parchment papers glide across the room, fluttering and weaving between soft whispers until they find home on the great oak table that stretches across the room. The table was set with intrigant cups, chalices made of frosted glass sat in front of each chair untouched by those who sit by them. It and the chairs that accompany it sprout from the soil, twisting roots and vines make up the furniture. A beautiful blend of nature working in harmony with the castle.

An elven man with platinum blond hair breaks the peaceful murmurs of the room. He rises to his feet in a surge of emotion, the thick tension in the air being cut by his words. "Your highness, must this meeting truly take place? Would it not be in our best interest to align ourselves with the Shield Maidens to end this war before it begins! The entire kingdom can sense that tension is rising, why not give the humans what they want?! Clearly a decade of peace was far too long!”

His shouts echo through the court room’s elaborate walls, the slam of his fist on the thick oak table follows shortly after.  Other members, around the table watched in silence, some with furrowed brows and lips pressed so thin they almost disappear.

To the far eastern part of the room lies a throne, and like everything else in the room it stood as an attest to the relationship between Elven kind and Nature. In it, a man raises his hand and with a simple gesture the eyes of every person in the room falls to him.

With fiery red hair that almost looks like licks of flame coming off each curl, twisted golden branches rest on top of his head carefully woven into the locks. Deep green eyes that hold the secrets of the forest that surrounds the land. Pale untouched skin, except for the cluster of freckles that dust his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose. Each small dot resembles the inside of a sunflower, spots where the sun has kissed his face over and over again. The red gloves on his hand were embroidered with a gorgeous pattern that matched the look of his robes. A tapestry of golden swirls that decorated the material, ones that meld into the giant wings that sprout from his back. Wings that flutter with each breath, shimmering light fall from either side.

"I understand the devotion that burns inside you Ser Donnel,” He takes a moment to lower his hand, “but you will remember proper etiquette in my courtroom. Should you take that tone in front of my honored guests, I'll ask that you step outside and remember yourself." His tone was not one of anger, but it held the authority one should have in his position. Behind the glints of his eyes were silent warnings. The guarantee that he would not get a second chance.

A second passes and the blond dips his head down, returning to his seat. “My apologies your Highness, I meant no offence.” His eyes now fixated on the table before him.

Just before the conversation in the room could pick up, the great doors were pushed open; Ser Clyde using both arms to do so. There at the doorway you stood, a smile on your face found only in portraits. Still, calculated, perfect. Eyes fall upon you, some mixed with curiosity and others mixed with loathing. Whatever emotion they held in the variety of colors didn't seem to matter to you. What mattered was that they were on you. And as the bard inhales getting ready to speak, you bow low. Your hands by your side, outstretched just enough to show the palms.

History would remember you.

Prologue | 1 | 2

[ladamedusoif]

Music (Marcus Moreno x Music Teacher F!Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 5

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist. FYI: I'm having so much trouble with taglists at the moment that I'm not going to use them for now - if you want to keep updated, follow @ladameecrit and turn on notifications.

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Music Teacher F!Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Fluff; intended as taking place after the events of We Can Be Heroes; one very tiny minor swear; Missy plays the trumpet; some references to Christmas carols and A Christmas Carol; yes the denouement is partly inspired by a scene in Love, Actually; no physical descriptions of reader; no use of Y/N; Marcus Moreno in a Fair Isle sweater.

Word count: 1565

Summary: Marcus Moreno is a Band Dad. You’re Missy’s music teacher and director of the junior high school orchestra. And you might have a tiny crush on a Heroic. And where better to realise that than at the holiday concert?

“Marcus. Marcus. MARCUS!”

Anita Moreno stands in the doorway of her son’s kitchen, wondering why Marcus is so oblivious to her voice as he empties the dishwasher, back turned. 

“Oh, shit!” He lets a plate fall, startled by the seemingly sudden apparition of his mother. “Hi, Mom.” Marcus removes a pair of earplugs, scoops up the broken crockery, and crosses the room to embrace Anita.

“Earplugs, mijo?”

He shrugs and points upstairs, in the general direction of his daughter Missy’s bedroom. The strains of the trumpet solo on Joy to the World float through the house.

“She’s practicing extra hard for the holiday concert in a couple of weeks. She’s really good, Mom, she’s a star soloist. But… there’s only so many times you can hear the same stuff."

Anita huffs a laugh. “Been there, done that. I was secretly very glad when you decided you didn’t want to keep up piano lessons.”

Your rehearsal with the school orchestra is winding to a close with a final run through of Carol of the Bells, when you catch a glimpse of Marcus Moreno slipping quietly into the little auditorium and taking a seat near the back. He nods towards you in recognition, and you return the gesture while continuing to conduct the musicians. 

Missy joined the orchestra a couple of months after her mother died, the camaraderie and creative outlet a useful form of therapy for a grieving child. Marcus, understandably, had been a little protective of her at first: ensuring he was there to pick her up after evening rehearsals, insisting on driving her to weekend day-long training and performance events, and always being one of the first to arrive for every show.

You had a quiet, teacherly pride in the way Missy had grown in confidence and independence since joining the group. Marcus still sometimes arrived early for pick up, settling in to hear the last piece of music at the back of the room, just like this evening. And he remained an enthusiastic “band dad”, as his Heroic colleagues teasingly called him. He’d worked closely with you on fundraising events over the years, and gladly used his public profile to boost support for programmes designed to give instruments to children otherwise unable to afford them. You had come to enjoy spending time with him, quietly thrilled whenever he would appear at rehearsal or join you at funding drives.

The final note rings out from the handbell section. Your hand signal marks the end of the piece. The teenagers begin chattering excitedly, and Marcus “Band Dad” Moreno applauds in the back row. 

You can’t help but laugh when he starts cheering “Bravo!”, sending a mortified Missy diving for cover behind her trumpet case. He swiftly walks down the aisle when he notices you struggling to fold up the portable music stands, insisting on lending a hand as you start wrangling them off stage. He makes short work of it, lifting them with little to no effort and carrying them in his strong arms.

“Sounding great, as always,” he muses, stacking the stands in the little music store room. “I’m really looking forward to the show. Missy’s been practicing every minute she gets, she’s so excited about that solo.”

“She’s a talented musician, Marcus.” You lean in conspiratorially. “Even so, I hope you have invested in those earplugs I recommended. No matter how talented she is.”

He smiles that warm, genuine smile that somehow feels like the sun coming out, even in the depths of midwinter, and leans even closer. “Two pairs, just in case. And thank you. Seriously, thank you.”

“Has anyone heard from Missy?”

Your musicians shake their heads. It’s 6.55pm, the show is due to begin at seven, and there’s no sign of your lead trumpeter. The students have been trying to contact her on every social platform they can (and that’s a lot), and you’ve left a voicemail for Marcus.

“I’m going to try her dad one more time. For now: please take your places. If she doesn’t show, we’ll just have to fudge Joy to the World.”

Your left hand twitches nervously as you pace around backstage, listening to the ringing tone on the other end of the line. The telltale click of a call going to voicemail makes your heart sink. 

“Marcus, hi, just me again. Um, we’re a little worried to have not heard from you or Missy and we hope you’re both okay. Please don’t panic and get here whenever you can, okay? But be safe. Hope you’re safe.”

As you hang up, you realise just how worried you are about them. 

Marcus is getting out of his car before it has fully come to a halt, grabbing Missy’s bags and setting off at speed in the direction of the back entrance into the auditorium when his daughter calls him back. 

“Dad! You forgot to turn off the engine?”

He swears under his breath, sprints back to the vehicle, and grabs Missy by the hand as they run into the school. 

“Do you think we’ve missed your solo? I’m so sorry, sweetheart, you know how work gets sometimes and -”

Missy thinks for a moment, listening carefully to the music coming from the auditorium as she leads her dad down the narrow backstage corridors. “No, they’re still on In the Bleak Midwinter,” she whispers in reply. “Then there’s an intermission, and then it’s Joy to the World.”

Marcus exhales in relief, but keeps up his pace. “Phew. Okay. Guess we have to wait for intermission, right? Do you feel okay? Able to go on? Not too out of breath?”

Missy pats her dad on the arm. “It’s fine, Dad. I’ve got this.”

The orchestra and vocalists file off for the short intermission and you follow close behind, mentally trying to work out how to cover up the missing solo in the second half of the show. 

And there they are. Missy, silently practicing on her silver trumpet, while Marcus, wearing a dark green sweater with a Fair Isle pattern around the yoke, stands with his arms folded and what can only be described as a look of sheer anxiety on his face.

“You’re here! You’re okay! I mean, uh… you made it!”

Marcus looks up at the sound of your voice and shrugs apologetically. “I’m so sorry, it was…work stuff, I can’t… I’m so sorry, is it still okay for Missy to perform? She’s worked so hard and -”

Instinctively, you place a reassuring hand on his forearm. He feels warm and solid under the soft yarn. 

“Breathe, Marcus. Of course she’s performing. I’m just so happy you’re both here.”

He unfolds his arms, visibly relaxing, and lightly touches your shoulder. “I’m happy we’re here, too.”

Is he…blushing?

Missy’s solo is, as expected, a triumph. She plays better than she’s ever done before, the house erupting in applause as the piece ends and she takes a special bow. 

You have a little break now from conducting duties, as the orchestra remains on stage while a couple of students from the drama club perform extracts from A Christmas Carol. You return backstage to get a drink of water, and find Marcus standing behind the black curtains serving as a backdrop, peeking through and beaming with pride and delight at his daughter.

“She’s wonderful, Marcus.” 

He nods as you stand beside him. “She is. But she has a great teacher, too. You’ve been so important to us - I mean, to her - the last few years.”

Now it’s your turn to feel heat rise through your body as you become aware of just how close you are to him, of the feelings that refuse to go away, no matter how much you try to suppress them. 

Even in the semi-darkness, you can see how he’s looking at you from behind his glasses. Warm. Kind. And…wanting?

There’s no one else around. Everyone else is either on stage or in the auditorium. 

You move closer simultaneously, leaning in and inclining your head in anticipation of what you think - hope - is about to happen. And then those big, broad hands are caressing your face and cradling it as his plush lips meet yours, his moustache a little ticklish against the soft skin of your mouth, and your arms wrap around Marcus’s broad body as his kiss intensifies.

The student acting as narrator is declaiming how Ebenezer Scrooge was a second father to Tiny Tim - who did not die - as Marcus Moreno holds you tight and kisses you. Even Dickens couldn’t top this.

And then you forget, for an instant, where you are. Marcus shifts just a little too much to the right, you move with him, and with a thundering crash the backdrop falls from the rigging to the floor, exposing the two of you wrapped around each other.

The kid playing Tiny Tim isn’t going to let anything interrupt his big moment, not even the music teacher making out with a literal superhero on stage during the big holiday concert. As the auditorium gasps, the orchestra swivels and stares, and Missy slumps forward and groans, he doesn’t miss a beat as he throws his arms wide and proclaims: “God bless us, every one!”

[cursedcupcakemaster]

Info on the Sea Belles and their thoughts on Melody and each other

I made this for fun

Warnings I don't really own twisted wonderland it belongs to yana toboso's wonderful mind and disney or Melody Seashell, she belongs to @melodyseashell22,

Thalassa

Thalassa's bloodline is quite unusual but special

Thalassa's birthday is June 21st

Her grandfather Phobos on her dad's side is a cosmic entity that can only communicate directly with her every few years otherwise he must speak with her through the dreamworld

Thalassa's appearance in her true form resembles a mermaid with the lower half of a giant squid, four arms and four eyes, she is often praised as one of the most beautiful in her hometown.

Thalassa prefers the darker depths of the ocean as it provides not only shelter but larger food sources and hiding spots

She is regarded as the defacto leader of the sea belles for her strength and power as well as her intellect

Thalassa is capable of calling sea monsters with her screams

Thalassas parents Iris and Cetus met during a winter lunar solstice

Thalassa enjoys old films particularly romantic ones granted she never admits this to just anyone

Thalassa enjoys the company of Jade Leech however she admits she knows when he is lying

Thalassa began thriving once she attended NRC even giving Azul some sound advice with his buisness

She also enjoys building things such as miniature ships

Her thoughts on the other sea belles:

Melody: When she met Melody she thought that the girl could use more confidence but otherwise didn't have much negative things to say about her finding her cute with plenty of potential

Celine;She sees Celine as hard working but knows she needs to take it down a notch in terms of pushing herself, she does appriceate the effort Celine puts into things including the outfits she makes for her and their friends.

Nikki;she finds her lazy but a decent person. Thalassa and Nikki don't hang out much but when they do it's typically something like planning a design for a project model

Celine

Celine is the great grandchild of a powerful sea witch on her mother's side known as Desdemona

Celines mother is an deep sea ocean nymph while her father is a merman

Celines birthday is November 2nd

Celine enjoys creating things whether it's a potion of some kind or stitching together an outfit

Celines magic allows her to conjure instruments to manipulate emotions and people's mental state to a degree

After Celine started attending Night Raven College Vil started her into a routine that included moisturizing her skin as her scales would dry out snd it would irritate the poor girls skin

Vil has helped her find make up that suited her multiple times even helping her gain confidence

Celine raises an assortment of plants in her room and has a hidden passage to a secret lab that hardly anyone has seen save for people she allows inside, along with Rook and Floyd who somehow found their way in ,this made Celine design a special lock to keep them out

Celine loves old horror movies for their costumes and effects

Celine has multiple old scary story books and seems to have some of her own written down on her desk

Her thoughts on the other sea belles:

Nikki:she finds Nikki sweet and a general pleasure to be around with Nikki being one of the few who can convince her to take a break and do nothing. She knows Nikki is someone who is capable of plenty of things she just prefers realaxing.

Thalassa; When they first met Celine was intimidated by her. They didn't entirely get along at first but Thalassa was one of the few who could understand Celines thought process and calm her down when she was having a panic attack . The two now more or less have each other's backs

Melody:Celine cares for Melody in a sisterly way, wanting to make her happy and enjoys making clothes for her , the two sometimes have sleepovers doing one another's hair, Celine has taught a few lessons to people who tried to make Melodys life worse

Nikki

Nikki is a jellyfish mermaid from the warmer waters of the coral sea

Nikki enjoys floating in the pool of NRC or just chilling on her bed with headphones on playing lo fi music to relax

Nikki is very good at Gymnastics and it's one of the few things she likes in Gym class

Her birthday is March 14th

While she is a relatively calm person she will sometimes reach her limits and inject a toxic venom from her fingernail into the targets flesh resulting in large painful welts that take a few days or weeks to go away depending on how much went into their system

Nikki sometimes livestreams the light music clubs concerts acting as a "manager" of sorts for them

Nikki hates being forced to stay in a single place too long

Nikki enjoys painting things and choosing colors that might suit a model set

Her thoughts on the other sea belles:

Melody:Nikki appreciates Melodys company, finding her to be sweet and a refreshing change from the overly competitive sort she's used to. Nikki genuinely wants Melody to stick around since she seems to make the other sea belles calmer people .

Celine;Nikki thinks Celine is a nice person but she needs to chill more rather than run herself ragged with everything she's trying to do whether it's her designing clothing or her experiments. Nikki knows it takes a toll after a while so sometimes they'll have self care sessions including nail painting

Thalassa;Finds her terrifying but also one of the coolest people she's ever met. Nikki and Thalassa will sometimes scheme together about a potential project and talk about what happened during the week. Nikki would sometimes follow Thalassa around after she got used to her presence and describes her almost like a goddess that came from cosmos

[thehomophobe]

Can I ask for Eclipse headcanons?

Sure since it counts as Ruin DLC. At least I'm assuming you want ruin eclipse and not Balloon World! eclipse.

Android/Humanoid! (Ruin) Eclipse Headcanons 🌗

I think I said this before but after watching a lot of "where's glamrock foxy" videos, my thinking has changed; but not for this au! Eclipse was the first daycare attendant. By first, I mean he was "the" daycare attendant when the plex first opened, way before Sun and Moon were working for the theater. He ran the place, he had advertisements for his own candies, he was the owner, or rather the mascot, of the daycare.

Eclipse's physical attributes consist of: 12ft tall body (yes as tall as DJ), a strong case of vitiligo and freckles, hazel eyes, dirty blonde falling to his shoulders and sometimes a pair of red glasses that he pulls out when teaching or reading something. Ethnicity wise: white or Hispanic. I'm not sure yet.

He/They pronouns for Eclipse btw

Their demeanor is similar to Shizuha Kocho or Nana Daiba (my revue starlight fans would understand) if you don't then he's kind, calming, loyal and motherly than most mothers, but has a tendency to get "quite angry".

Angry issues consist of a strained voice with grinding teeth (basically the sound of metal and porcelain scracthing each other), the same high-pitched, melliferous voice but with a sense of aggression, and a couple of broken objects (brooms, toys, dust pan, crayons, pens, pencils) accompanied by a "oh dear". He hasn't crushed a human skull...yet.

But he really does mean well. And that bad side of him rarely comes out. They won't lash out on a child if they draw on the walls or start fighting other kids. They will lash out if parent is abus-ahem...mistreating a child nocuously.

As you probably read, I am working on a fic about foxy and his role in the plex so I'll just say this now: Eclipse is a very loyal and reliable friend, especially to Foxy considering everything that had happened.(which will be revealed soon...😏)

Three random things to describe them: Cotton Balls, Finger Pointers and Vicks Vaporub.

They love teaching. Before lunchtime/snacktime, he would give a free school lesson for the kids everyday. No homework though, just like pre-k.

He has a little bit of an English accent. Probably because he speaks very softly and using big words when talking to others. (not the children) Like "Good heavens no" and "indubitably"

When the theater opened, Eclipse would be the narrator for the plays. And the voices of the characters. Sun and Moon's creation was rushed by Fazco., meaning they didn't have any skin on (considering the engineers were struggling to find how to make their skin tones shift in circadian rhythm) and no voicebox. They wore masks (which look like the original designs) and used gestures to communicate. Eclipse loved their little brothers dearly. "They're just the cutest. 😊"

Eclipse has horrible peripheral vision, he jumps when someone's behind him.

He has a great memory! And he remembers everything. Everything. It's no wonder they self-decommissioned themself after that day...

(All mysteries will be revealed in the fic. Stay tuned for that.)