#Ahaha that's a lot of writing

[sporadic-doodles]

Starfolk Lore!

(I'm stealing this term, if you don't mind >:D)

Anyways, Worldless lore! Because lore is my favorite part of every game.

From what we know, there are two main natures -- blue and orange -- that are constantly at war with each other. Once one wins over the other, the victor absorbs the loser, taking their energy and shifting both of their forms. They then swap natures, and the victor goes on their way while the loser bums around, probably out of exhaustion or smth. Blue starfolk tend to have either lightning or ice natures, while orange starfolk favor wind and fire (because colors~)

However, rarely, the absorption results in a sort of merge where the combatants fuse to become a single green starfolk. This is where Adaptation, Duality, and Yin-Yang come from, and you can see it happen in the Eastern area of the map. If I remember correctly, it's a crescent and ariman(?) that forms Quimera.

These merged starfolk gain an incredible amount of power, as the most powerful enemies in the game (*cough* Summum *cough*) and can be assumed to be a sort of ascendance, as they no longer obey either of their original natures. Also, from the character designs, it appears that the more green a starfolk has, the more powerful and "near-perfect" they are, hence the extreme difficulty of Summum's fight. The sole exception to this appears to be Edda and Aven.

While yes, Duality has two individual, fully-functioning parts that each have at least some independent thought, Edda and Aven are two completely separate beings. They are physically separated, even though you never see them next to each other unless it's in cutscenes or in special moves, unlike Duality who clearly merges to perform their giant star attacks. Part of that is logicked away to the functionality of gameplay controls, but still. There is no evidence of their merge until they touch, in which green light covers the screen, or the giant sword from Unified Division appears. We are clearly told that whatever they have going on is special in a way that has caught the eye of what is closest to a god in their universe (which is a whole other can of worms that I'll write about later). Either way, they're much stronger than the traditional green starfolk, as seen by the fact that people can beat Summum in 4 minutes *Gestures at speedrun video*.

Now, I also want to touch on whatever the heck is up with Edda and Aven's absorption. We can see in the background -- within 3 minutes of starting the game -- that whenever a starfolk is absorbed, they swap natures and are distorted beyond recognition. However, whenever Edda (and later Aven) does the same, they remain perfectly untouched while the enemy is completely obliterated. I, personally, think this is an ability granted to them following Aved's failed absorption of Edda at the start, where the two are something like a "ever-strengthening" or "consuming" being like how Adaptation is the "ever-changing" and Yin-Yang is the "stable yet unstable" being. Their initial merge is also probably why their own kinds attack them, which took me embarrassingly long to realize.

That's all I can really think of at the moment, but I might write more later.

Please let me know if I messed up or need to add stuff! I'm writing this all from memory!

#Ahaha that's a lot of writing #worldless #worldless game #worldless aven #worldless edda #worldless summum #worldless yin-yang #worldless adaptation #worldless duality #rambles #worldless lore #I'm brainrotting can you tell

[samdeancrimespree]

there’s something about wincest in the pre-slash era (whenever that is) where i think the dynamic is: one of them does not have sex with men. doesn’t think of them that way, because it feels too dangerous, too easy to slip into those fantasies he keeps locked away. and the other one fucks guys, but only ones who are eerily similar, carbon copies to his brother. the type of resemblance that would turn most siblings off. and the roles could go either way, for either of them. just… the dynamics of the different types of desperate “unrequited” feelings and the way they try to get away from them.

like. dean getting drunk and making out with some tall, long haired guy at a bar. nasty desperate hands down the back of the guys jeans, stifling a sigh that his ass isn’t quite round enough to be sam’s. he has blue eyes, not brown, but dean isn’t looking at his face anyway. fucking not-sam rough in the back of the impala, moaning baby and cutting off before brother, saying sam’s name when he cums, trying not to stare at the army figure in the ashtray. hating himself for it, swearing off it, but always crawling back, chasing the high like an addict. feeling deep in his soul that sam was right to leave, that he’s better off without his sick freak of a brother.

sam being into girls with short hair, accidentally hitting on lesbians because he struggles to be attracted to anything not wearing a crew cut, flannel and work boots. he’s sick, he knows, that’s part of why he had to leave. frosh week drunk, he lets a guy flirt with him, because he’s just tall enough, just different enough, that sam can give himself plausible deniability. his lips are too thin, he’s too gentle, he smells like axe and fake leather, but sam needs something, and this is all he can get. it’s going fine, until the guy— too late now to ask his name— goes for sam’s belt and sam feels like he’s going to puke. the wrongness of it comes over him all at once, like a fever or a hex. clarity pierces his drunken state: not dean’s hands, not dean’s voice, not dean, wrong. at least it gives him an excuse to back out, a good reason to lock himself in the bathroom and sit on the floor, trying to determine if the dry heaving is cheap beer or grief.

girls are— safe. long hair, soft hands, sweet and gentle and nowhere close to 6’1. this way, there’s nothing reminding sam of the absence, nothing pushing against the barrier he’s made around what he really wants. he can be normal.

he knows it’s dean after the first strike, knows his footsteps and his breath and the outline of his shoulders, even now, even in the dark. but sam doesn’t stop fighting, because he’ll have to stop touching dean, and sam can allow himself this one thing, after so long. dean’s leather jacket on sam’s bare arms is making him dizzy, and sam lets dean take him down, the beginning and end of sam’s understanding of desire. a reminder, familiar like dean’s rough palms on his wrists, his weight pinning sam, his shit-eating grin and drawled easy, tiger; sam has never been normal.

#ok my last rb just reminded me of this #ive been thinking about it a lot #in my stanford pining era #it could go the other way too…. Sam searching for replacements #and dean being like ahaha i don’t like Guys wtf 🧍‍♀️ #also. if the one doin the fucking won’t kiss the guys #hhghhhh #wincest #hc #pre series #mars.txt #my writing

[clowningaroundmars]

morales twins vigilantes: getting found out pt 2

okayyyy this part's a slight bit longer but hopefully, uh, worth it lol

kinda made myself tear up a lil at the end ahahaha

also pls don't ask when this takes place, like either in between istv and atsv or atsv and btsv.... idk bro LMFAO this is technically a whole other au in and of itself soooo yuh

disclaimer: i'm a whole ass anarchist, however miles and milo are two teenage boys who've grown up with a cop dad and they play a lil lip service to the police force during their big speech so... yeah i don't support the existence of the police force, but it is what it is. characters don't reflect author's beliefs and all that

>1st part here<

Jeff happened to be lucky enough to be pardoned for the rest of the night, and he also opted to use some PTO on this very very important occasion, so he sped off in the squad car with his sons in the back immediately after visiting the police department and signing off on some papers. He did not utter a word until they all got back home safely.

In the car, it was eerily silent as Jeff fumed in the front. Miles practiced what he was going to say over and over in his head, picking at his suit and avoiding his twin brother’s eyes. Milo held what remained of his mask in his hands, gauntlets off and tucked between his feet on the floor of the car. They both hung their heads low, counting down the minutes until they got back home and had to face their inevitable death sentence.

They were in so much trouble. Yikes. This was exactly what Miles dreaded for so damn long now, and it almost felt like a dream the way it happened so quickly.

Back home, both boys were sat down in the dining room area behind the couch, waiting for their mother to come back from her night shift. Milo was given an ice pack for his head and some painkillers, and then they were both sternly ordered to take off their respective suits.

Miles turned inquisitive eyes towards his dad.

“If your mom comes in and sees you two wearing those outfits right after work, that woman will have a heart attack and faint. Take ‘em off,” was Jeff’s sharp explanation.

They were not gonna argue with that. To the bedroom they both went.

“And then you both come right back out the second you change, got it?”

“Yeah dad, got it,” was Miles’ unenthused mumble before closing the door.

Miles turned back around with his mask in his hands, and immediately threw it at Milo.

“What were you thinking?!?!” he hissed, arms flying up into the air, making grabbing motions at his twin brother’s neck. “You absolute idiot, my god, we are so. Freaking. Dead!!”

Milo ducked back, scowling. “Me?!” he hissed back, keeping his voice at a harsh whisper as well. “What did you want me to do, pendejo, just let our dad fry, just like that? I didn’t see you moving to stop the guy!”

They were both snapping at each other, hands flying everywhere as they argued in harsh tones and whispers. They only stopped when they heard a loud knock on the door.

“Don’t take all night, either,” came their father’s booming voice from behind the wood.

Miles hung his head. Milo rolled his eyes and moved towards the closet, ripping his jacket off and kicking off his shoes. “Yes dad,” they both intoned at the same time.

A few glares were exchanged as clothes were tossed onto the floor, and Miles sighed loudly as he pulled on a pair of pajama pants, throwing himself onto his bed to get them up his legs all at once. He glanced at his bedside alarm clock, knowing his mom would be home any minute now. He felt his heart beat in his chest much louder and faster than usual.

Milo pulled on a hoodie over his head, gingerly easing the fabric over his bruised chest.

“Did the blast hit your chest too, man?” Miles asked quietly, eyes playing over the mess of a bruise over slightly-scarred skin, wincing a bit.

Milo exhaled sharply. “Shuddup.”

Miles frowned. “You have to let mom know about that soon. Don’t ‘shuddup’ me.”

“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

Miles knew his brother was sulking, but that really looked… bad. If he was responsible for not only dragging his brother into vigilantism, but also putting him in the hospital as well, he had no idea how he was getting out of this one alive. He was probably never going to see the light of day until college. Maybe not even then.

Once ready, both boys stood side-by-side in front of the door, hesitating. They both glanced at each other, then back at the door.

This was it, they both thought. The moment of truth. This was the night where it was all gonna go down, and their painstakingly-kept secret would finally be revealed to their parents. D-day. My god. He didn’t even know if the speech he prepared in the car on the way home was even gonna suffice against their mother’s explosive anger. She was gonna have a cow the second Jeff told her. Damnit.

Guess I can kiss the whole Spider-man thing goodbye, Miles thought, the very idea leaving a very heavy weight in his chest that he just couldn’t ignore. He leaned forward to turn the knob and swing open the door. With one last glance back at his brother, he stepped out. Then his brother followed him slowly, ice pack pressed to the side of his head again.

It was like a funeral procession the way they marched solemnly back to their chairs placed side-by-side by the table. Jeff leaned on the doorway to the hallway with his arms crossed sternly over his chest, still in his police uniform, hat already hung up.

As if on cue, Rio’s keys jangled against the door, and she stepped inside once the lock clicked open. Her slightly tired expression changed in an instant once she hung up her bag and walked into the apartment.

“Hello boys, I’m home!” She announced, a bit surprised. Not only were her husband and two sons all home at the same time, but they were all hanging around to watch her come home after work at such a late hour. Granted, it was summertime and the weekend, but still. Weird.

Jeff had texted her that something important came up and that she needed to be home ASAP, but didn’t elaborate further. She didn’t know what to expect when she got back. She crossed her fingers and hoped that it wasn’t that bad, if her husband texted her instead of calling. If it was an emergency, surely he would’ve called.

Right?

Her eyes widened once she saw the ice pack Milo held against his head, and quickly made her way over to him.

“Qué pasó?” She kneeled next to her boy, checking him over quickly.

Milo winced and tried to dodge his mother’s hands, holding a protective arm over his chest that no one missed. “Ma, stop. I’m fine, seriously. It’s… it’s fine.”

“Is it? What is going on, why is everyone so… so sad right now, and what are you two doing sitting here like this? Jeff…?” She turned to face her husband but he was already making his way back to the boys’ bedroom, scooping up their respective vigilante costumes and heading back out with the incriminating evidence in both hands.

Once he got back to the table, he tossed them onto the surface and crossed his arms again.

For a second, no one moved. The whole world held its breath for one precious moment.

Then, with deadly calm in her tone, Rio slowly stood up and placed her hands on her hips. “...What are those things?”

Both boys braced for impact.

“Well?”

Miles swallowed hard, hands gripped together tightly. “Uhm. They’re. They’re… our outfits. Y’know… for fighting crime.”

Rio gaped at her sons.

“He’s Spider-man, mom. Miles is Spider-man,” Milo clarified solemnly. His chin was at his chest now, avoiding eye contact with his mother.

“...And you’re the Prowler.” Rio finished.

She took a step back and exhaled, running her hands through her hair and rubbing her face. “Oh… oh my god. Dios mió, me voy a morir. I knew it, but still... me voy a morir!” ¹

Finally, Jeff spoke up behind her. “They’re not Halloween costumes, either. Guess where I found ‘em tonight?”

With tears in her eyes, Rio looked back at her husband, a pleading look on her face. “Don’t tell me,” she begged. But Jeff continued anyways.

“I took tonight’s shift on as a bit of extra, and when I was called to take care of an electric freak close to downtown, I found these two at the scene already.”

Finally, Rio exploded. “What?!?”

The twins flinched.

Jeff exhaled and pressed on, licking his lips. “Yeah, and not only that, but Milo here took on a direct blast of electricity to the face. He jumped in front of me and put himself in harm’s way!”

Scandalized, Milo leaped up from his seat, wincing only a little bit. “Wait a minute, I did it to protect you! That’s my job!”

The anger fizzled out immediately once both parents swung their withering glares around back to him, rage hot enough to almost burn two holes into his skull. Miles pulled Milo’s hoodie sleeve and quietly hissed, “stop making it worse!”

Milo clammed up and quickly sat back down, pouting.

“Your job?” Rio shot back incredulously, laughing angrily.

“That is not your job, Milo! That is mine! My job! I wear this badge every single day so that I can protect the people of Brooklyn. You are a kid with homework and chores to do, not fighting dangerous bad guys on the streets like some kinda—” Jeff worked himself up but then stopped, as if he suddenly ran out of steam. He placed his hands over his head, clearly stressed, and exhaled loudly.

“How long?” Rio’s tone was sharp.

They were definitely not getting out of this alive. Damn. Rest in power, Morales twins.

Miles shuffled his feet, hesitating. “Uhm—”

“Speak up, Miles. How long have you two been running around behind our backs and lying to us like this? Huh?”

Miles sighed. “I, uhm. We’ve been doing this… for a while now.”

“A while?”

“…A -a year.”

“A YEAR?!”

“I mean I’unno about Miles, but I’ve only been doin’ this for like a couple months, so…” Milo mumbled half-heartedly beside his brother. That comment earned him another set of glares, including one from Miles.

“A year. A year! A year, that’s how long you’ve been lying to us?” Jeff was pacing now, clearly stressed out. He was mumbling things under his breath that both boys would rather not know anything about.

Miles jumped up from his seat, seizing the opportunity when he could. “Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait, guys. Mom, dad. Listen to me, please,” he begged, hands splayed out in front of him.

He took a breath. He opened his mouth.

“Until college.” Rio interrupted, holding a finger up. “Both of you. Grounded! Until college! You will both be adults before you ever go out without my permission ever again!”

Miles deflated. “O-kay but mom, please! Hear me out first!”

Rio held a hand up. “I don’t wanna hear it! I cannot believe that both of my sons would lie to me like this! For an entire year, no less! Dios, dame paciencia, coño!” ² She shook her head as she held her face in her hands. “Do you two know what you’re doing to me? Look at me, I’m getting grey hairs as we speak!”

Jeff immediately took her side. “Do you realize what you’re doing to your mother? You’re killing her! And you--” he rounded on Milo all of a sudden, jolting the poor boy into sitting up straight. “You are killing me! You’re going around wearing those godforsaken gloves around, punching bad guys just cuz you wanna feel like a big man, huh? Do you know what that does to me?!”

Milo visibly prickled up, hunching in on himself. “I’m not doing it for me,” he bit out angrily.

“Then for who, huh?”

“I wanted to save the little guys on the street... when the cops couldn’t. I wanted to help Miles.” Milo sounded tired, and for a split second he looked much older beyond his years. Both of his parents softened for only a fraction of a second before Jeff rubbed his eyes and turned back to Miles.

"And who made you Spider-man all of a sudden? What happened a year ago? Tell me the truth. I don't want any detail left out!"

Ah, interrogation mode already, Miles thought humorlessly.

He sighed and dutifully got started on the whole backstory, careful to leave out the fact that he was with Aaron the moment he got shot, skipping to the part where he "found" his uncle's nearly lifeless body in that alleyway that fateful day. It was a harmless enough lie… Miles presumed. Right?

"Did you… then... h-how did you see who shot Aaron, Miles? Were you there?" Jeff asked quietly, also looking as tired as Milo did. Miles paused, not expecting the question.

Rio shot him a look. "Jeff, mi amor, please. Now is really not the time." She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Right now, we have to talk about this... this... situation we have going on here. What's next?"

Miles shrugged, palms facing forward as if to say and the rest is history. "I'm... pretty sure you guys know the rest. Dad... you were uh, there. At the collider. I stopped Kingpin and then I just. Well, yeah. Y'all have already watched all of the news stories and the videos. So," he finished lamely.

Then, a surge of confidence as he looked at the concerned expressions dawning on his parents' faces. It's now or never.

"...B-but I love being Spider-man! Dad, you've seen me out there, the way I fight, the fact that you guys have less to deal with cuz I'm out there kicking ass!"

Oops. Wrong words.

Miles' confidence deflated as soon as those concerned and sympathetic looks turned into ones of anger.

"Kicking ass?! More like getting your ass kicked, little boy! How many NewTube videos are out there of you getting crushed by cars," Jeff started to count off of his fingers, "hit by buses, tossed in the air, punched and flung halfway across the block--"

"Jeff, please!" Rio cried, wobbling a bit. She pulled out the chair closest to her from the table and slumped down into it, rubbing at her temples.

"S-sorry, hon..." Jeff placed an apologetic hand on his wife's shoulder.

Rio sighed deeply.

"I get it. I know. But dad..." Miles steeled himself this time. "When you put on that badge every single day and you go out into those streets to protect the city, you think you're never gonna get shot at? Jumped? It is literally your responsibility to put yourself in the way of danger so no one else has to." He turns to the table and grabs his mask.

"For me," Miles continues, "this is my badge. Okay? I put this on every single day and swing out into the streets so people can shoot at me, or ask me for directions, or wait for me to get weird guys in stupid costumes away from the train tracks. I do this every single day, because if I don't, who will? Peter is dead--" ...wow, that feels weird to say.

"Miles..." Rio's big brown eyes gaze sadly at her boy, standing tall with this awful mask in his hand. A mask that she desperately wished wasn't his.

"Mom. Peter is dead. He is. Okay? If I don't step up and take his place, knowing what I can do? Then I might as well not even be alive at all." He tosses his mask dramatically back onto the table to punctuate his point. "I can shoot webs from my wrists and I have strength like y'all wouldn't believe. I can stick to walls and do everything that Peter Parker was able to do before he passed away. If I just sit here doing nothing with these abilities while everyone struggles to live their lives every single day, letting bad guys with superpowers do whatever they want, then what's the point of anything? The exact same reason why I put on this suit to go fight crime is the exact same reason why you do, dad." Miles turns to his father now. "You have your suit, I have mine."

Milo jumps in, enthused. "And the reason why I put on my mask is because of him. And the civilians, too... of course. But it's not because I 'wanna feel like a big man', dad. It's because it drives me crazy seeing my own brother taking on all of this responsibility on his shoulders all by himself. Miles is gonna do crazy things now that he got bit by a super-spider, right? We literally cannot stop him, even if we tried. Trust me. Might as well go along with him and support him so he doesn't get himself killed out there. That's why I do this. Every single day."

Jeff opens his mouth to say something, but is then cut off by Rio's own small, sad voice. "... Why does it have to be you two?" She asks quietly.

She looks so small sitting there on their wooden dining room chair, and a million times more tired than when she came in through the door. She wasn't even out of her own nurse's uniform yet, either. Miles felt a pang of sympathy for her.

Miles... did not know the answer to her question either. He really didn't. Why was it him-- out of all of the people in Brooklyn-- that got bit by that spider? Clearly, the universe had a grand, elaborate joke planned for him. That was really probably the only explanation for it all. But, no. No, there had to be something else in the cards for Miles. After all, he was bitten by the spider while out with his uncle who was secretly the Prowler, and he was present for not only Peter Parker's death, but that same uncle as well.

He squared his shoulders. And then told the truth.

"I... don't know," he admitted. "But... I do know this. Growing up, I always knew Spider-man was there to answer the call no matter what. He didn't pick this life of battling bad guys that wanna tear the city up all the time, a spider bit him, too. But he made me promise something before he died, and I have to live up to that promise. What else am I gonna do when I'm able to pick up cars with my bare hands?"

Granted, it was only a promise to stop the collider from opening a black hole inside of the city they lived in, but. Details. Anyways...

Rio hid her face in her hands again.

Miles softened his tone, sitting down. "This is something I worked really, really hard for and it's important to me. Milo... is kinda right. You can ground me. Until college. Or whenever. But as long as I've got these powers," he held his hands open, propping his elbows on his knees and meeting his mom's eyes, "and there's people out there that need saving? I gotta do what I gotta do, mami."

Milo leaned forward, too. "Yeah. Same here. He's not alone. The same reason we do this stuff is cuz... ever since we were little, we also watched you guys answer the call, no matter what. I never met Spider-man, before... y'know, but it doesn't matter. We do this for New York City."

Neither of their parents spoke for a bit, digesting all of this information in solemn silence. The anger from earlier all but melted away as they ruminated over all of this. All this time, their little boy was running around in a spandex costume, swinging around, punching bad guys and lifting fallen buildings off of people. There was... a hint of pride underneath all of the fear and anger and betrayal and anxiety, even Rio couldn't lie.

But god, how would things ever be the same again after knowing that the very hero who swung from building to building and knocked villains down before webbing them up was the very same boy with the brightest brown eyes they've ever seen; the boy who brought home A's on his test like he won a medal, the same boy who sang horribly off-key while doodling all over his sketchbook, who refused to tie his shoelaces and drove Jeff up the wall when he found graffiti and stickers all around the city in Miles' name? It was impossible... Rio's heart broke into two pieces.

And Milo... a tougher counterpart to her little ray of sunshine, but just as sweet. The same boy who would feed stray cats on the block, beam like a ray of light after winning a boxing match against a tough opponent, who would hide behind Rio at parties and join her happily to watch the latest episode of the new telenovela they both got hooked on... that same boy was wearing those gloves, swinging around the city looking like a bad guy himself. Rio's shattered heart gained another huge crack before finally breaking into three pieces.

Finally, she sighed again.

"You have superpowers?" She asked, hesitantly.

"... I... yeah, I do." Miles answered, fearing that this was a trick question.

Rio nodded sadly. "Of course. Of course..."

Jeff spoke up, now kneeling beside his wife, caressing her hand clasped in between both of his. "Just because you have superpowers, doesn't mean you're invincible. Miles, we do this because we care about you. Maybe we won't be able to stop either of you from putting yourself in harm's way... I mean, hell, nobody can stop me. But... god, isn't there any other way?"

Miles raised a brow. "Any other way to...?"

Jeff blew out a breath. "I-I dunno, can't you use your super strength to... well, maybe help the transportation department move some tracks around, build some new stations... that'd help the city. Swing around and deliver medicine to people for free? God, I don't know. I just don't want either of you to jump in front of bullets for other people... man..." he shook his head.

Miles and Milo exchanged glances. "I... I know it's tough to accept this," Miles started, unsure of what to say. "Maybe I can scale back the dangerous stuff some but... I... can't just stand around directing traffic when someone's getting mugged. Or a bank is getting robbed. Dad, I just can't. Maybe you guys will hate it every time I put the suit on and swing outside but... I can't give this up now. I'm sorry." He dipped his head apologetically.

Another long stretch of silence.

A clock ticks on the wall in the kitchen, and the ice maker in the fridge starts humming again. It's all so painfully domestic, painfully ordinary, it's almost an insult to the people living in this apartment facing these serious revelations all at the same time. It sure is a sharp contrast to the solemn mood settling all over everyone right now.

Rio looks deeply into Miles' eyes, then Milo's. After a while, she turns to face Jeff. "Jeff. You will not like what I'm about to say."

Jeff returns her look with one of confusion. "Honey..."

Rio shrugs, a small gesture but one that makes Miles and Milo's hearts skip a beat. "Mi vida, these are our boys. They have... this big responsibility now, to the people here in this city. Just like you. Just like me," she swallows and continues. "You and me? We've seen what Miles is capable of. Well, the both of them. And as much as it hurts, it would probably hurt even more if we kept them both back from being the heroes they need to be. What we need to do now is... we need to support them. We love them. They need us. We need them! Qué más puedo decir?" ³

Jeff looked deeply into his wife's eyes and then inhaled deeply. Not quite a sigh. That was maybe a good sign?

He stands up.

"...Boys."

The twins took their cue. They both stood up, too. Milo quickly discards his ice pack on his chair. Rio joins them, leaning on Jeff for support.

"When police officers get sworn in, they usually just have to do paperwork nowadays. Not too much of the whole bells and whistles due to high turnover rates, but tonight... if either of you want to continue to fight crime in this city, you both have to put your right hand up. Right now."

Miles could cry. Milo bit his lip to try and hide his grin, and they both dutifully raised their right hands at the same time. Jeff does the same, and reaches his left hand out to take Miles'. Rio takes Milo's.

"Pretend we are the Bible. Not paperwork. The Bible."

Both boys nod with all the seriousness they could manage, looking their father in the eyes.

"Do you solemnly swear on your mother and father's life that you will uphold the law and do right by the citizens of Brooklyn, New York, so help you God?"

"I mean... the law law? Cuz sometimes we--" Milo started, immediately earning an elbow to the side. He shut up.

"Yes, the law. I will not be having the DA of New York City up in my home lookin' for you two in case anyone gets badly hurt. I don't want him in my office, either." Jeff gives them both a look.

Miles pipes up. "Yes, we swear, so help us God."

"Milo?"

Milo nods emphatically. "Yes, I swear, so help me God."

Jeff nods once.

"Mijos. You will both be allowed to go and fight crime outside, con mi bendiciones. But. But... you will both also do it under two conditions. If either of you break my rules, you will have wished that spider never bit you," Rio glared at Miles. Then to Milo, "and you will have wished you never stole your uncle's gloves from his apartment. Got it?"

Both boys nodded, still holding onto their parents' hands.

"So, my two rules are this. Only two. Easy to remember, okay? Number one. Milo, you will take care of your brother as best as you can. Miles, you will take care of Milo as best as you can. Both of you will always be seen together when going out and doing hero things, do you understand?"

"Yes, mamí" the boys say simultaneously.

"Never, ever go out alone, ever. Neither of you will be alone for even a second, especially during the nighttime. Promise me this."

Miles puts his right hand down to take his mother's other hand in his. "Yes, mom. I promise. We both promise."

Rio bows her head. "...And as for my second rule."

"Do we have to have a curfew?" Milo asks quietly. Everyone shoots him a look again.

"No, no curfew." Before the boys could get excited, she quickly adds, "except for on school nights." They both calm back down.

"Your education is always, always more important. Don't forget this," she lets go of their hands to hold up a finger. "But as for my second rule? No more secrets between us. All of us. Okay? You tell me exactly when it is you leave to go and do what you need to do, and exactly when you come back. Promise me this, too."

This time, it was Miles' turn to start saying something dumb. "I meaann, like every single time? Cuz sometimes it's not really a one-and-done kinda thing, like a shift or--"

Everyone glares at Miles. Miles promptly shuts up.

"...Sí, mamí. Te prometemos todo eso." ⁴ Milo answers seriously.

Rio sucks in a breath. "Okay. Okay..."

She looks as if she's about to burst into tears, so everyone draws in tightly for a group hug. Rio sniffles against Milo's shoulder and Jeff leans his chin on Mile's head. Miles laughs wetly.

"Geez, y'all are crying? Man, for what? Ain't nobody dying or anything..." Milo interjects suddenly, causing the whole mood to dissipate all at once. Everyone laughs incredulously.

"Boy, if you don't know how to read a room..." Jeff starts, a warning tone laced into his playful grin.

"Man, I was just trying to lighten the mood! Damn, I mean shouldn't we be celebrating? Miles literally has super strength, you guys. Like c'mon, right? That is literally the coolest thing in the whole world!"

Rio groans, tossing her head back. "Mira esté, 'coolest thing in the whole world'... déjame agarrarte, maldito cabron..." ⁵ she mutters sarcastically, moving to grab at Milo's neck in the exact same way Miles did not even an hour earlier. He playfully dodged out of the way, putting his arms up to block, out of habit.

"Cabron?! Mom, you're so mean!" Milo complained.

"C'mere!"

Jeff leans in and interrupts their banter. "Milo. Son. You have to sit with me on the couch now, cuz we have to have a little chat about how you got your hands on those gloves, actually..." He grabs at one of Milo's arms, his smile just a tad bit too wide. Milo gulps.

Jeff continues, steering them both away from Miles and Rio. "And we also have to talk a bit about the history behind those things, too..."

Rio turns to Miles and cups his cheeks in her hands, looking into his eyes. "Do you actually, actually swear to me that you will try your hardest to stay safe?"

"Yes, mom, I do! We said it like a hundred times."

"Your father was right. Just because you have super strength now--"

"And super-healing."

Rio stares at him for a beat.

Miles squirms nervously. "...What? I do!"

"Super-healing, sure. Uh huh. If I catch you with bullet holes inside of you, I am not taking you to the ER then, Mr. Invincible."

"Ouch. Harsh."

"I warned you! I'm smiling like I'm joking but I'm really not!"

"Okay, okay, geez. C'mon, ma. It's really not that big of a deal. I don't get shot at as much as you'd think! Seriously! I'm fast. And... and I've been doing this for a while now. You have to trust me, okay?"

Rio sobered up. "I know. I know. I just... mi amor, I am your mother. I worry about you. You know... I've been taking care of my two little boys for so many years now. I just... I care about the both of you even when you two drive me completamente loca! I trust that you can both handle yourselves, I really do. It's just hard. It is. I-it'll... take some time to get used to."

Miles nodded. "Growing up is tough. I get it."

Rio smacked him on the shoulder.

"Ow! What, it's true! We're all growing up right now, I'm not a little kid anymore and... and you're not the mom of two little kids now. It's just... it's a transitional period! Life's tough!" Miles shrugs, smiling warmly.

Rio smirked, crossing her arms. "Uh huh. It sure is."

Then, she opened her arms for another hug from Miles, which he happily returned.

"I mean it, Miles. Whatever happens, I want you to keep yourselves safe. And ask for help. Papí, your father is a police officer. And whatever you need, whatever you need... I'm here, too."

Miles beamed at his mother with tears in his eyes.

"I know, mom. Thank you."

☆ translations:

¹ "my god, i'm going to die."

² "god, grant me patience, fuck!"

³ "what more can i say?"

⁴ "yes, mom. we promise you all of that."

⁵ "Lookit this guy, 'coolest thing in the whole world'... lemme get my hands on you, fucking bastard..."

#mine #miles morales #miles g morales #spiderverse #i'm getting soft..... deadass tearing up at the end while writing and editing GOD how embarassing #ugh anyways #hope all that wasn't like ooc or anything #i know miles will eventually have to reveal his identity in btsv so i'm not even going to attempt to imagine that #but writing TWO hero identities getting revealed was actually more fun than i imagined #also did yall like the movie lines i slipped in there? ahaha #yes i HAD to make miles' speech mirror gwen's cuz... well yeah #they're both spiderpeople and so they obvi mirror each other in a lot of ways #esp cuz they both have/had cop dads #so anyways hope yall enjoyed this one :) #will i write more after this? who knows #i MAY have more hc posts up my sleeve for the future but We Shall See #oh yeah also the aesthetic pics used as dividers in both posts are not mine ofc #i mostly found them trawling thru pinterest and tumblr 🤙 #thx 4 reading ♡

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Wildefire AU: Out of Sight

cw: adult language, implied violence, implied starvation, bruises, the prison industrial complex lol

° ° °

Sarah swore she'd had a plan when she stepped through the doors to the prison, but it had all gone to shit pretty quickly. 

Hugo had helped her fabricate an identity as a journalist, fake ID and online credentials and everything, and posed as the director of a web-newspaper to get her an interview with a low-level criminal at the Fielding Detention Center.

She was really there for Uriah.

Alexei had been the one who'd found the CEO—former CEO—shut up in one of the dingy cells. He'd broken into Fielding to try and collect information from a different inmate, but happened upon Fox instead.

"He's… he's just in some cell?"

"Should count himself lucky he's not in the Tower. Bastard's got enough enemies."

"Maybe we can use him."

Lex's expression had become unreadable when she'd said that, but Sarah could hear the way his heart sped up, the slight hitch in his breath.

She didn't want to work with that asshole either, but their resources were few and far between when it came to anything that could stand against Corp, and someone who'd once held power—someone who'd been betrayed by the rest of the city's leaders—could be a huge asset. Even if that someone was Uriah Fox.

If she could just talk to him, maybe he'd give her something they could use. As unpleasant as the man was, everything Sarah had heard about him told her he was petty as hell. He'd probably jump at the chance to strike back.

To Alexei's credit, he didn't try and convince her otherwise when she told him her plan.

Sneak in, have a chat, get lost before anyone important knows I'm there.

"Do what you want. As long as I don't have to look at him, I don't care."

She'd agreed at the time, but now, selfish as it was, Sarah almost wished she'd asked Lex to come with her. If things went south, it would be nice to have someone whose powers were good in a fight.

"Zhang is Chinese."

"Good morning," she said brightly to the guard at receptions. "I'm Andrea Zhang, with Skyline Weekly?"

She'd complained to Hugo about that one.

"It's the only profile on here that even remotely matches you. No one's gonna know."

"What if the guy who lets me in is Chinese?"

"Yeah, right."

Yeah. Right. He was white. Maybe in his thirties, with close-cropped brown hair. He regarded her with a bored expression, flipping through some papers on the desk.

"Zhang… Zhang… ah, here." He nodded to the door behind him. "That way. I'll buzz you in."

That easy, huh? Sarah figured she'd at least have to have one of those through-the-glass phone calls like on TV, but here she was, going into the prison proper without so much as an escort.

Certainly simplified matters.

Lex had already given her a general direction to look for Fox. She walked past the reinforced doors leading to the common area, cafeteria, and yard, all connected by this one long hall to give the guards easier access. Sarah peeked through the doors' embedded windows as she went, scanning the scattered groups of prisoners for any sign of Uriah. 

She wasn't all that shocked when she didn't see him. If he was here, it was because the rest of the Corp bigwigs wanted to forget him. Out of sight, out of mind.

She pressed on down the winding corridor, past more doors leading to cell blocks and supply closets and… was that the fucking room with the chairs and the bulletproof glass and the phones? They did have one, but the lazy-ass guard would rather send a journalist in alone than do the work to keep a civilian safe.

She shouldn't have expected anything less from the prison system in this city. With that level of neglect shown to citizens, how badly were they treating the inmates? Sarah had to push aside her disgust.  She had a mission. Even beyond the task of meeting Uriah, she needed to take down Corp. Once the city was free from their grasp, she could worry about the state of the prisons.

The further she went, the emptier it seemed to get. She was passing single cells now. The one she peeked into was practically featureless. A grate in the floor probably served as the bathroom, but other than that, there wasn't even a mattress. And there were a ton of similar doors.

Fucking hell, did they put every prisoner in solitary? It was completely inhumane— nope. No. Later.

Sarah closed her eyes, sharpening her hearing. Listening for movement, for heartbeats, would be quicker than checking every single door.

Of course, she picked up the usual annoyances. The sharp buzz of the fluorescent lights above her, the roar of the AC unit, even the slight hum of electricity traveling the building's inner wires. But somewhere in the muddle of sound, she could hear it.

Thump-thump, thump-thump.

A heartbeat. Just one, so that was either a really great sign or a really bad one. She kept her eyes closed, running a hand along the wall to keep from running into anything, and followed the sound.

It grew louder and louder, until she had to re-dull her hearing to avoid being deafened by it. This was it. Fox was on the other side of this door.

And shit, there was only a single, small window in the door, high enough that she'd have to stand on her toes to peer in. And while she'd be able to hear him, he probably couldn't hear her. Did that mean she'd need to open the door? What if he tried something? Surely the asshole was desperate enough to—

Her thoughts were cut short as her ears picked up a small gasp inside. No, not a gasp, a wince.

Well that was almost to be expected. Someone like Fox was bound to incite a lot of brawls with his smarmy, self-important attitude.

But when she stood on her toes to get a look inside, she sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth.

Lex had told her Uriah was here. She'd never thought to ask what state Uriah was in.

The blond man was curled up in the furthest corner of the tiny cell, thin arms wrapped around his bare chest, head tucked against his knees. A good chunk of his hair was matted with dried blood, and his skin was covered in purpling bruises. She couldn't see his face, but she could still pick out the bruises lining his jaw, color trickling in towards his mouth. Something inside her twinged, and Sarah decided she'd allow it. She didn't have to like Fox, but right now, it was pretty easy to pity him. Poor guy'd had the rug ripped out from under him, only to find a flight of stairs at his back.

She sharpened her hearing again, kneeling to get eye level with the doorknob. It was locked, as she'd expected, but good hearing was for more than just eavesdropping, and careful listening paired with a bobby pin made for quick work of the lock. She could hear Uriah's heart rate suddenly speed up as she turned the handle, and immediately softened her ears against it.

He lifted his head as she pushed the door open and stepped inside, pulling it closed if only to escape notice. His eyes were wide—well, one eye was wide, the other was practically swollen shut—and his face was gaunt and bloodied.

Sarah let out a breath. "Uh. Hi."

"S-Spyglass?"

"Ah, so you do remember me." She crossed her arms, then remembered she wanted to get him to cooperate, not scare him, and uncrossed them. "It's nice to know you at least knew who I was when you sent an assassin after me."

Uriah raised a shaking arm, as if to shield his face. "Please— I'm sorry, I—I know sorry doesn't m-mean anything, but please, please don't hurt me—"

Shit, that had probably sounded vaguely threatening. "No, no. I'm… I'm not here for revenge or whatever." She sighed. "I… actually had a few questions for you."

"I'll tell you anything you want, I'll comply, please don't—"

"I'm not trying to hurt you," Sarah cut in. Had she sounded threatening again? Was it possible to not sound threatening to the poor guy right now? She tried again.

"I have some information I really need. I won't hurt you if you can't answer my questions, okay? They're just questions."

She waited for Fox to nod. He never took his eyes off her.

"First, do you know of any fail-safes in place for the Hero CEOs? Backup plans that let Corp get away scott-free if we do manage to pin something big on them?" Like how they used you as a scapegoat? She didn't say that part out loud. If that wound wasn't still fresh, it was constantly being re-opened in this environment.

Uriah nodded, but didn't actually say anything. She tried to keep her voice soft as she prompted,

"Like what?"

"I… I don't know, I… I can't remember. E-everything I had, everything good, was on my personal network."

"Network?" Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"Computer. A—a specific computer."

She sighed. "Which I don't imagine you currently have on you."

"I'm sorry—"

"Stop." Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose. "Do you know where this specific computer is?"

"Still at Titanium. In a—a vault."

"That I presume you know how to access?"

He nodded.

"Tell me." It would be a fucking doozy of a mission, but that computer could be a gold mine. Secrets, conspiracy, fail-safes… Corp's dirty laundry. If they could break in, maybe Hugo could hack the network.

"There's a code."

"Of course."

"A-and a fingerprint scanner."

"Of. Course." Fucking of course. Because there had to be something there special enough that Uriah Fox would just have to be brought along. It was entirely possible he was making that part up in a bid to get free. If Lex were here, he'd suggest just cutting off a finger, and she'd be hard-pressed to ignore the idea.

But despite her annoyance, despite knowing the truth of Uriah Fox, that he was a power-hungry, horrible man who was willing to send assassins after literal children to keep his reputation, she felt kind of queasy at the thought of hurting the trembling thing he'd become.

She… she needed time. She needed a new plan. The info about the computer was great, but she doubted Fox would be able to offer much more in this state. 

As she opened the door, peeking outside, Uriah piped up behind her.

"Where..?"

"I need to think. Thanks for the answers." She stepped out—

"Wait! Please… please, take me with you."

Her stomach sank, laden with equal parts dismay and pity. Yeah, his situation sucked, but the idea of keeping him around, of bringing him back to the team… no thank you. If the fingerprint bit was true, they'd find a way to synthesize it, and they shouldn't need Fox to get into the laptop.

"Sarah, please—"

"Using my name won't help." She did look back then, and wished she hadn't. Fox was on his hands and knees, looking up at her with teary, pleading eyes.

"You're a hero. Y-you save people."

Real heroes save everyone. Hadn't she told Lex that? Did it make her a hypocrite then, to want to turn her back on the person responsible for so much of her misery? Who'd killed her old team leader, who'd tortured one of her friends for a year?

Maybe it did. But it still felt justified.

"I was a hero," she said. "You made me a rogue."

She pulled the door closed behind her, dulling her hearing to lessen the sharpness of Uriah's pleas, and began to briskly walk back down the hallway.

With the uninspiring security, she probably could've walked right out the front doors without signing out, but Sarah stopped by the desk again anyway.

"Zhang," the guard mumbled. "Done so soon?"

"I got what I needed," Sarah offered, clutching the pen a little too long after signing her name in the visitor log. "I… heard a rumor while I was inside."

"A rumor?"

She set the pen down. "Yeah. Supposedly Uriah Fox is in here somewhere." What was she saying? Was she about to threaten the guard into treating Fox better?

"Is that what you heard?"

"It's what I heard. Though I didn't see any sign of him, so I don't know how true it is."

His eyes darted to the pen at her fingertips. "Off the record?"

Sarah nodded. "Off the record."

The guard leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, Fox is here, all right."

She feigned surprise. "Really? What did he do? I heard it was something about embezzlement?"

"Something like that," the guard agreed.

"Where is he?" Sarah ventured. "Like I said, I didn't see him."

"He's been in solitary for a while now," the guard replied.

A while. How long was a while? How long had it been since he'd been thrown out? Two months? Three?

"What did he do?"

"Existed." The guard chuckled. "They put a man like that---who's spent his entire life stepping on other people---in a cell block filled to the brim with men who've been screwed over by him and others like him. What'd you think would happen?" He thumbed through the stack of papers on his desk idly. "The first few weeks, it was all we could do to keep him alive. It's a miracle he's still kicking, honestly." He leaned in, conspiratorially. "Between you and me, there's at least two guards on staff who have beef with the guy, and I know they've been paying him visits."

Sarah grit her teeth, trying to make it sound casual when she replied, "And you aren't stopping them?"

"Why would I? It's Fox."

It's Fox.

That was her logic, too. Why would I? It's Fox.

Why would I?

Because real heroes save everyone. And whether Uriah likes it or not, I'm still a hero.

She forced a smile, rolling the pen back to the guard. "Well, have a great day," she said, not waiting for him to reply before turning on her heel and marching out the doors.

Whether she liked it or not, she'd be back. And Fox would be leaving with her.

She'd be back.

° ° °

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing , @bloodinkandashes , @fleur-alise , @whumpy-daydreams

and @whumpwillow @turn-the-tables-on-them this one's for you guys lol

#my problem with wildefire is after the first arc it splits like tree branches with lots of great approaches and different details #so i cant decide which one's actually canon ahaha #one of my favorite lines I've written this year is somehwhere within this drabble and idk if anyone could guess it #wildefire #uriah fox #whumper turned whumpee #villain whumpee #prison whump #also i love sarah she's so fun to write #the world is broken but girl's gonna do her best

[mydaystan]

so mh hi guess who’s back (day6) (day6 is back)

#IT’S BEEN A MILLION YEARS #okay 3 years #idk why #but obviously day6 comeback made me wanna come back here #i miss all the mutuals I had here and the safe place it used to be 🥹🥹🥹🥹 #changing the age in my bio from 24 to 27 hurt a bit not gonna lie ahaha #anyway #day6 has done it again #our kings are back #it’s so weird and familiar at the same time #wow #i missed writing lots of tags that nobody read ehe #im curious #are any of you still here? #i haven’t scroll through my dash yet #so #I’ll see

[lhrry]

harry styles really wrote an album about long-term relationship which is overflowing with love in all its diverse forms, with domesticity, with assurance, with softness, and with profound emotions including a declaration of the deepest lifelong love, steady through the good and the bad, always choosing to keep going (driving), he really did that

#first of all from the pov of me ten years ago.. wild #also now these tags are going to be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster read at your own risk #but GOD this album does things to me making me feel so much and reminding me that art is what I want to do in life nothing else #even reading other’s reactions and stuff (and I experience this a lot with seeing people’s reactions to music #movies or literature #just in general when something excites people #I want to do that for people make them feel something and feel good and entertained and i feel i really understand harry on that level ahah #anyway it’s just so important to me to be able to create something that awakes feeling and thoughts and Harry’s house is such a perfect #example of that I am so in love with the album #and as someone whose mother tongue is not English although I now consider it my first language in a weird way #I’m getting two pieces of prose published in American journals soon and !!!! I truly cannot believe that and #this is leading absolutely nowhere #but the album is really making me thing about what I want to do in life and it’s this #might write a song or two next time I write ahaha

[whump-card]

You were supposed to fall in love with him, not me

and

You were supposed to fall in love with him, not me

Art taglist: @angst-after-dark, @whumpsday, @flowersarefreetherapy, @rainydaywhump, @softvampirewhump, @burnticedlatte, @whump-me, @honeybees-125

#inflicts you with ridiculous shitty vent art #well I like the first image a lot actually. not so much the second one but it's necessary #everyone had that one toxic codependent homoerotic friendship when they were a teen right? ahaha #being in a love triangle where one person is a fictional character who is also sorta you is a wild time. my ace ass couldn't handle it #I hope she's doing good #also this is not how I look or feel now. I don't have long hair anymore #I mean I have it but it's not attached to my head. it's in bundles in my writing desk. #anyway this goes out to everyone who's had a friendship fall apart because they fell in love with you. especially if you're ace #vent art #my art

[yo-yoringle]

Happy Valentine's Day to meeeeeeeee - I cannot believe Larian chose to drop an Ascended Astarion on your knees kiss on this day. ����

#Larian treating my Tav better than i do #because he'd love to do a whole lot more kneeling than i write him doing ahaha #baldur’s gate 3 #ascended astarion

[mobblespsycho100]

not my previous opinion on firefly coming to bite me in the ass JAHDJSHJD

#honestly her design is iconic #i think its the least fanservicey design hsr made so far #barring the child/younger teen characters' design obviously #firefly's design is still very gender and cute while being practical #also ofc Sam. is Sam. we love u sam. sam firefly. IHwdsjssjeheueb explodes #(for context i was previously unhappy with the fact that firefly and sam is one and the same) #(because i wanted a playable robot/mecha) #but kamen rider magical girl firefly who pilots / transform into huge metal warrior sam is so fun which i love #and the fact that firefly is canonically like . an biologically manipulated or engineered human #and is very much . older than a lot of our cast #first stellaron hunter (super cool) #the way her name signifies how her life is like #chefs kiss design #winx club looking ass splash art name title . thats a compliment btw #im very much looking forward to looking at her beautiful eyes up close . and also running around as a tall metal guy with fairy wings ahaha #kamen rider moment truly.... #also ppl saying its a clara svarog situation isnt getting it #clara and svarog are seperate characters just one in the gameplay #as svarog is claras robo dad/protector and just fights for her #honestly shouldve been clara & svarog like how topaz & numby are called that #but firefly is firefly. SAM is SAM. theyre one and the same #SAM is her alternate identity as a weapon and firefly is her true self #MAN.... #i think writing wise fireflys ''death'' was still not as hard hitting as possible #it was mostly shocking #which isnt bad writing #i still got attached to her #but when it was sad for trailblazer it just felt like a WTF WHAT. HUH moment for me #which kinda has like a disconnect #anyway im rambling too much

[despairforme]

#[ him <5<5<5<5 !! ] #[ been thinking a lot about him recently hhhh ] #[ i mean i always think about him but YEAH ] #[ unfortunately i'm busyyyyyyyyyy again ] #[ i keep filling my weeks and days with stuff ahaha ] #[ in the past i used to just stay indoors by myself 24/7 ] #[ i gotta get better at taking advantage of the time i have available for writing ] #[ i have so many ideas and plots in my head !!!!! ] #[ my to-do list is a million miles long WELP ] #[ - but also i kinda love it bc i'm never bored - ] #[ anyways !! once i again i must thank you for your patience with me guys! you're so kind and understanding t-t <5 ] #[ - gives out trophys - ] #[ you're the best !! ] #[ hope you're all doing good <5 ] #toby post. ╱ out of character.

[prince-liest]

@ anon: oh my god, I think you just hit 4/4 in terms of things I have to immediately share on Discord with everyone I know, hahahaha

#personal #anonymous #ask #I feel a little odd answering the ask itself I hope you don't mind! just bc it's a lot of links #but AHAHA the fucking human centipede song in full is Exactly the radiostatic relationship arc I'm writing I'm ngl #freak4freak #LIKE HELP IT'S ACTUALLY INSPIRATIONAL THIS IS SO SILLY

[whattraintracks]

30. Wrestling - TMNT 1990s

"You are unique among your brothers, for you choose to face this enemy alone. But as you face it, do not forget them, and do not forget me. I am here, my son."

Splinter breathes deeply, allowing the flow of air to guide the outside world to the forefront of his awareness. Stale subterranean scent, cushioned armchair beneath him, dim candlelight, footsteps. Someone has drawn him out of meditation. Perhaps his sons are home earlier than expected.

"You may enter, Raphael," he offers to the hovering shadow. The turtle creeps inside, halting but a moment before bowing deeply.

He smiles warmly, "Have you and your brothers returned?"

"The guys are still out." Raphael's shoulders hunch; from what emotion, he cannot tell. "I, I didn't go with them."

The scattered candles flicker. A great darkness seems to cross Raphael, and he glimpses someone very much unlike his passionate son. Someone exhausted, worn down, nearing the brink of collapse.

Raphael's voice brittles, "Can I stay with you?"

Splinter's not sure what is more alarming, that Raphael has declined an opportunity to go to the surface—with his brothers, no less—or this weariness so evident in him.

"What troubles you?" He implores.

Raphael shakes his head mutely.

He insists, trying to keep his disquiet at bay, "I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is wrong."

A coarse whisper, "It's nothing."

"This is not nothing," he creaks to his feet, "You must—"

"Dad."

The sudden plea stills them both.

"Master Splinter." His heart wrenches at the self-conscious amendment. It is not one he needs to make. Not about this. Not ever.

"Please, can I just," Raphael cuts himself off, breathing shallowly. Another flicker of candlelight and Splinter catches the sheen of tears in his eyes.

"Oh," he breathes. What a fool he is. His son has come seeking comfort and company, not interrogation.

"Yes. Yes, come." He beckons, reseating himself. "Sit with me."

Raphael shuffles deeper into the train car, kneeling stiffly. Splinter clucks softly, reaching for his arm to pull him against the chair. He curls forward without resistance, breath hitching.

"My son," he says, soothing with hands and words. "I am sorry. You may always come to me. You need not tell me what is on your mind to do so."

He is unsurprised but nevertheless heartbroken as Raphael releases a heavy sob, giving in to whatever weight he has been carrying. Tears prick in his own eyes at the openly hurting sound. He internally chides the parts of himself that demand answers over acceptance with open arms. Wrapping them now around as much of Raphael as he can, he mourns with his son so clearly wrestling with a great burden. He sends a prayer of gratitude to his Master Yoshi for guiding Raphael to him when that weight grew too large to bear alone.

Much time passes before the rest of his sons return. Long after Raphael cries himself past exhaustion into sleep. At some point, concerned at the angle of his son's neck, Splinter maneuvers out of his chair to rest them more comfortably on the floor. His ears prick at a whisper of movement. Ah, three movements.

Michelangelo peers into the train car, his brothers close behind. "Oh," he blinks, "he really did stay here."

Protectiveness flares within Splinter. "We should not begrudge Raphael's need for comfort or rest," he reproves.

Michelangelo's eyes widen in dismay, "Of course not!"

Donatello shakes his head, "No, we're not— We don't think Raph—" His eyes dart as they do when he's searching for the most precise explanation. "We're just worried about him."

"He's been having a rough week," Leonardo murmurs.

Oh, his sweet sons. He should not have been so quick to assume they meant anything uncharitable when they are but concerned brothers. As with Raphael, he wishes they had come sooner instead of struggling and worrying alone. He can be grateful they are here now.

"Tell me," he invites, resting a muffling hand on Raphael's tympanum.

They glance between themselves as they kneel, silently urging one another to speak first. He is careful to display only calm patience despite his inner turmoil.

Michelangelo finally bursts, "He's not eating." The other two look at him, befuddled.

"Okay, he's not, not eating," he revises, "but he didn't even finish a whole pizza at April's on Monday!"

Splinter trusts this is a remarkable incident, given their identically serious nods.

"I think he's having nightmares," Donatello contributes. "At the very least, he's not sleeping well. I keep finding him awake at odd hours, and sometimes he's pretty freaked."

Splinter huffs fondly. "Should I ask what you are doing awake at 'odd hours', Donatello?" The turtle shrugs cheekily.

He ponders these insights, soothing Raphael as he twitches. Do dreams haunt him now, even surrounded by loved ones?

"Leonardo?" he prompts, drawing his final son from deep thought.

Leonardo begins slowly as if unsure, "He's been more focused during training." As they all have. With their many hardships, each of his sons has increased their dedication to learning ninja, whether they realise it or not.

He listens keenly as Leonardo continues, "But when we're out, he hesitates. I've never seen so much slip past his defense."

He hums, "You are concerned he is a danger to himself and your brothers?"

"Never," Leonardo swears.

He tilts his head, not unkindly.

"Well, yeah, I guess," Leonardo concedes. "But not like that. Raph usually loves fighting." His eyes resonate with confusion and grief and fear. "He doesn't seem to enjoy it much lately. And he's always so tired, Master Splinter. It has to be more than him not sleeping."

"Maybe they're connected," Donatello suggests, "Maybe whatever's going on is affecting his sleep, and improper sleep is exacerbating the symptoms, on and on in a vicious cycle of—"

Michelangelo groans, "We get it, Donnie."

"Shh, quiet," Leonardo hisses.

They shush each other back and forth as Splinter watches Raphael slumber with a heavy heart. Holding up a paw, they fall silent. "You are right, my sons. Raphael is wrestling with something very grave indeed."

He reaches out to them. "My turtles, you have been through so much in your young lives." They lean in, allowing him to rest a hand on them, one by one.

"How do we help him?" Michelangelo asks.

Moved as he always is by Michelangelo's generous spirit, he is loath to admit he has no answer. He is stopped before he can.

"By following Master Splinter's teachings," Leonardo pronounces, looking at him eagerly. "Ultimate mastery comes not of the body but of the mind. Through mindfulness and unity, we draw each other up."

He is humbled to hear his own words in his son's voice. Warm with pride, he inclines his head.

"A break certainly couldn't hurt," Donatello rubs his chin, "A little downtime to focus on rest and healing together."

Michelangelo brightens. "Like family time!"

Donatello and Leonardo share a fond glance. "Yeah, Mikey," Leonardo says, tucking the turtle under his arm, "like family time."

"You guys are the sappiest suckers I've ever known." Splinter chuckles as Leonardo and Michelangelo startle at Raphael's sudden utterance.

Donatello laughs, "Please, you know like seven people."

"Yeah, an' the other three are normal," Raphael grumbles. Yet he unabashedly proves himself equally "sappy" as he shifts to nuzzle Splinter's hand.

Recovering from their shock, Michelangelo exclaims, "Raph!" as Leonardo yelps, "You're awake!?"

Raphael yawns widely, opening one eye briefly to check the room. "Hard to sleep with the lot of you yappin'." He appears, if only for this moment, at ease. It is a gift to see him comfortable and unguarded. More so, Splinter acknowledges, because these things have been absent in him for too long.

"I won't say no to a break," he mumbles. He lifts a hand to swat at Leonardo blindly, "But I refuse to participate in anything called 'family time'."

Leonardo evades the wild arm, a mischievous spark in his eye, "Fine then, we'll call it team building."

Raphael scoffs, "No. That's worse."

And as the four bicker good-naturedly Splinter knows they will find peace, as surely as he knows the love that binds them. However much healing Raphael needs, he will not do it alone. His family would not let him if he tried.

#march for raph #ahaha i did it it's still march somewhere #thank you all for a delightful month! #this is set post-tmnt ii but takes a lot of inspiration from tmnt i #i just need every body to realise how much crap 90s raph goes through with like zero time to recover mentally emotionally or physically #worst nightmare: alive in new york hates your whole family wants you dead #secret home: discovered and ransacked #father: missing and presumed dead #body: beaten within an inch of its life by the entire foot clan #body pt 2: months long (i think?) coma in a bath tub #father pt 2: called spiritually to give you his last words and presumed definitely dead or about to die #that's just the first movie #secret home pt 2: still unsafe so room with your only friend until dad makes you find a new place #worst nightmare pt 2: still alive!?! #body pt 3: held hostage and tortured by the entire if slightly smaller foot clan #worst nightmare pt 3: still alive! got bigger!!! #anyhow probably should have had more repercussions than we were shown #raphael splinterson #master splinter #michelangelo splinterson #donatello splinterson #leonardo splinterson #tmnt 1990s #post secret of the ooze #tmnt #writing off the rails

[shima-draws]

Mmmm wanna draw but I’m so eepy

#The moment I got into bed it was all over. I can’t escape now #I really really need to buy an apple pen so I can just. Draw on my iPad lmao #I’ve drawn in bed before with my usual tablet but that takes a lot more setup and I’m laaaaazy. #Also if I get an apple pen I can buy Procreate 👀 #Anyway. ANYWAY #Since I can’t drawn rn. I might write a bit #I started a Sanlu fic (ahaha whoops) #OR I can watch more OP. More Bon-chan Mugi-chan moments <3333 #Shima speaks

[soloavengers]

Arisen & Pawn Info

Using @arisenreborn’s template, this was fun to fill out.

♛ THE ARISEN:

NAME: Sylvas AGE: 20 RACE: Human PRONOUNS: He/him ALIGNMENT: Chaotic good PREFERRED VOCATION: Mystic spearhand FAVORED GIFTS: Cloaks, curatives, anything interesting FAMILY: Deceased parents. (But Winterheart, really)

POSITIVE TRAITS: He’s helpful and kind, perhaps he has difficulty saying no when someone asks for help or a favor. It doesn’t mean he’s dependable, but he ALWAYS tries his very best. Ready to jump into the fray of any battle if someone needs a hand, like wandering pawns. He’s gentle, compassionate and easy to talk to. Very excitable, curious and energetic (would remind one of a Simple pawn). He’s friendly, in his own way.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Overconfident and reckless, you’d often see him rushing into a fight by throwing himself in the middle of a group of enemies (much to Winnie’s dismay and careful planning). He doesn’t see the fault in himself when it comes to such flaws, even when he’s disheartened after a bad battle caused by these actions, while Winterheart gently scolds him. He can be too blunt and impulsive when interacting with people, breaking social norms despite how hard he tries not to. Easily distracted, too curious it gets him in awful situations. He’s awful at talking about his own feelings.

LIKES: Animals, adventuring, monster culling, heights, treasure, Winterheart’s paintings, forests and camping. The color green. Regentkin Sven.

DISLIKES: Rattlers. (& Disappointing others. The overwhelming uncertainty of what his future holds. The odd feeling he gets after defeating a drake. The empty feeling in his chest intensifies every day. Why?)

What was their life like before becoming Arisen?

His veteran father moved himself and little Syl out of their village in northern Vermund to a cottage in a forest nearby for a ranger job, after his mother’s death. He raised Sylvas and trained him in the use of melee weapons and archery, taught him hunting for sport and (after a certain age,) hunting monsters. He nursed a wolf pup with pale fur to health, she was their protector and Syl’s best friend growing up. He never allowed Syl to explore the forest without her. Monsters became more and more frequent as the dragon’s coming neared. He lost his father little over a year prior to becoming the Arisen, grief drove him away from the forest like it drove his father away from the village. He recovered his love for nature, exploring and battling monsters after losing his memories.

How do they handle being Arisen, and the responsibilities that come with it?

After remembering the events in Melve, he couldn’t deny it and grew quite interested in the Dragon and his connection to it (and the drakes). In a somewhat innocent way, he always longed to have some sort of connection to a beast, so he may be glorifying it. The responsibility, the charge… He doesn’t understand it, but suppose if he does what people he trusts want of him (to become Sovran), and leads the pawns well he’s doing alright. Surely this path will lead to getting his heart back. 

What are their thoughts on Pawns in general?

Syl grew up with Very little human contact outside of his father, making him shy and awkward when people visit. However he knew pawns, as there were times his father hired sellsword pawns to help with monster hunting. He found them easier to interact with than humans for some reason. Later, it’s the presence of his pawns that helped him come out of his shell. As they're less like the pawns he knew growing up and more like humans, that are still oddly easier to talk to. He’d always tell them he’s lucky to have them, and tends to rehire pawns he likes quite a lot.

What's their relationship like with their main Pawn?

He loves Winterheart, she’s become his family like Winterheart the wolf was. He’d often grumble and say she isn’t “a fun sort” for caring about silly things like strategy and planning, but he realizes that her strictness keeps him alive. He cares for her beyond words. A partner like her is what he needs to keep going, to put it simply. He tries his best to take her input before a fight despite that comment, and her opinion before a decision, and tries harder to keep to it. 

Do they have any interest in being Sovran? What are their opinions on the politics of the world in general?

Not at first, but early enough into the journey he remembered how he felt like he lost his life even before the Dragon, and he grew to accept that his path as the Arisen will lead to a new life as Sovran. He grew to understand that it’s a necessity and not simply a privilege he didn’t ask for, as well as feeling himself grow more and more responsible. Captain Brant and Sven’s help gives him a lot of confidence, and there’s little he wouldn’t do to make them proud. During his travels he began writing a journal to keep track of things he plans to take action against or in favor of as Sovran. He tries his best to understand the politics of the world, and he has gathered many historical books (though reading them is another matter.) So, suppose he does have interest, if only for the sake of Vermund and having something to live for. And, well… he can’t be worse than a false Sovran puppet of a tyrant, can he?

Who are their love interest(s) and/or closest friends?

His closest friend is his loyal pawn. He got better at making friends by way of helping, and when a couple of his new friendships seemed to develop into something more, he’d feel he isn’t good enough. Yet, oddly he didn’t feel that way with Sven, perhaps because he cannot be with him even if he wanted to. His feelings are known and returned, but it’s no more than little visits to the castle for quiet talks. Sven might have gone to his dwelling once or twice, as the rumor goes.

What drew them to their preferred vocation? Do they have history with it? 

His father trained him with regular spears, along with swords and bows. So before meeting Sigurd he preferred to be a fighter or an archer. Then learning the skills of a mystic spearhand he found, is a thrill. It’s the amount of magic he’s comfortable using, and it’s a weapon he was already a little familiar with. And despite Sigurd being a mystery, he feels kinship with the man and wishes to make him proud.

Do they have any hobbies? Any way of relaxing between all that monster-slaying and traveling?

Monster slaying and travel is his joy, but yes, he likes carving wood. He gifts them to friends and hired pawns, often a carving of their favorite animal or monster. He enjoys collecting little things that catch his eyes, and experimenting with ingredients more than necessary.

♟︎ THE PAWN:

NAME: Winterheart AGE: ??? RACE: Half-elf PRONOUNS: She/her ALIGNMENT: Neutral good PREFERRED VOCATION: Warrior FAVORED GIFTS: Flowers, swords, paint, and anything Syl gives her. INCLINATION: Calm.

POSITIVE TRAITS: She’s caring and gentle, she seems to always know the best thing to do or say when someone (especially her Arisen) is struggling in almost any situation. She’s observant and quick to act in battles, would rather she didn’t have to have to be, if only all their battles were carefully planned.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Passive aggressive when in a bad mood. Overprotective of Sylvas even outside of battles, her opinion of a person would change entirely if they as much as made him frown, no matter the context. Too quiet (according to Syl). Too careful (also according to Syl). Overexerts herself often in fights, be it in defense of the Arisen and their companions or as she tries to take most foes down so they wouldn’t have to. 

LIKES: Her Gryphic Victory greatsword, beautiful sights, Vernworth, children, days spent in towns and villages, well planned battles. The lightest pink color. Ser Ulrika.

DISLIKES: Bandits. Syl’s inability to learn not to rush headfirst into battle. The emptiness of her past. Plans getting ignored, strategies overlooked. Raspberries. Rainy weather.

What was their life like prior to being summoned by their Arisen?

Long ago Winterheart was formed by an Arisen that didn’t live long enough for them to be well connected, she hardly remembers them. She wandered the rift and has done her duties in different worlds, often for humans as a sellsword. She was summoned for Sylvas for her similarity to the wolf his father had adopted, whose detachment to a pack was akin to her detachment to her Arisen. As well as her calm yet overprotective personality. In short, her past was a stretch of longing for what she finally has. 

What is their opinion on the Arisen? How do they view their relationship?

She’s very fond of Syl, she thinks the world of him, for all his flaws. Winnie thinks that as long as he has her, he will make it (really, there are no doubts anymore… only fear. Lots of fear.) It took her a while to accept that she was summoned, chosen again, and longer to believe that it might just last. At first she was bitter when she saw how reckless her Arisen is, believing this long awaited gift will be taken from her because he’s young and fearless, then she realized it doesn’t have to be that way if she protects him well. She helps him stay alive and he helps her feel alive, that’s how she views it.

Is there anything about the Arisen they find troublesome? Be it a small quirk or bad habit? (Or are they obviously flawless?)

Uhh. 

What is their specialization and is there any story behind how they cultivated that skill set? 

Chirurgeon. It was simply learned, and she’s glad of it. It’s what Syl needs most, even outside of battles (is it so hard to estimate a fall, or how hot the water is?) It’s a comfort for her to be specialized in healing, there were times where Sylvas didn’t notice he was poisoned!

Do they have any thoughts on the politics of the world and their place in it as a Pawn - or how Pawns are treated? 

It does put her down at times, and she would like to see anyone who’s wrongfully controlling pawns Dead. But she’s in the world to do her duty, politics don’t matter next to it. She’s however pleased her Arisen is doing something about it, and she’s there to help when she can.

Does their journey with the Arisen change them in any significant way and how? 

It got her out of the shell losing her former Arisen and wandering had shoved her in. She’s a lot more confident in her abilities and place, and in Sylvas as well. Winterheart is aware of more… integral changes, and while they make her feel alive, she instead feels dreadful when she notices Syl changing. But it’s the way of the Arisen and Pawn relationship, it’s out of her hands. She tries to remind him of who he is and what he loves most when it looks like his mind and soul is elsewhere.

Is there a reason they chose their preferred vocation? 

It was the vocation she used during her travels before Sylvas summoned her as an archer. In a distant past she was a mage, though she doesn’t remember having had enough time to perfect her skills as a mage. She misses being a warrior whenever she isn’t.

Do they have any hobbies or preferred past-times?

She likes painting scenery! Often while camping, she loses sleep just to stay up painting their surroundings on paper. When traveling with other Arisen, she likes for them to keep a painting. However if their world is so different, she would take one for Syl.

#dragon’s dogma 2 #dd2 #arisen and pawn #syl & winnie #this was fun and i hope it wasn’t a huge error to write it before finishing the game ahaha #robin hobb influence without animal telepathy (syl would be jealous of fitz) #listen both have humans turning into dragons lore it’s fair #my pawn might be a lesbian?! #if i ever made you think i’m shipping them my fault. i’m aro so i appreciate a deep platonic relationship like that a LOT more #idk how noticeable it is but winterheart’s hair is light pink and she loves it

[seagull-scribbles]

Lie Awake

A TMNT 2012 Casey and Raph ficlet [AO3]

word count: 1,191

just a small drabble focusing on Casey and his view of their relationship. I didn't write this as a ship fic, but I do ship them so you can interpret it as platonic or romantic

Casey hates people seeing him as weak. He wears every cut, bruise and mark like a medal, a badge of honour for a hockey game well played or a fight well fought. He hates when neighbours or the school populace look at him with pity in their eyes and sympathy coating their words like sponge covering a toddlers playroom or bubble wrap suffocating a porcelain doll.

So what if he doesn't have a mom anymore? Who cares about his deadbeat dad? Casey is keeping his promise and at almost 17 is protecting and looking after his sister, the best player on a hockey team within the region and a vigilante the purple dragons will write legends about. He is strong and brave. He bounces back from anything with a witty comment and a toothy grin. Missing incisors be damned.

So why is this different? Strong, calloused, leathery hands gently graze over fragile skin. Instead of the usual burn of anger such caution would ignite, Casey Jones feels a sense of calm and his breath almost gets caught in his throat. Almost. Arms he has seen tear robots to shreds, dislocate joints from vigilantes, break monstrous jaws are now delicately tracing over his pale soft surface, well- it should be pale but the current complection is primarily a mixture of injuries, marks and dirt. Purple, blue, green, yellow, pinks, reds- any colour besides a natural skin tone coats his body like a vandalised back alley wall.

The hand stops moving and instead a comforting weight is placed across Casey's chest and torso. The weight he has seen choke and crush wrong-dooers, crack brick walls and dent spaceship walls now comfortably rests along his side like a weighted blanket, the arm across his middle.

Awareness of his current location comes back. Why's the ceiling looking blurry suddenly? Casey realises his eyes are starting to water. These can't be tears of frustration though? Maybe these are not new tears but the remnants of the storm that leaked from those eyes earlier this evening, in the privacy of these four walls as his own inner walls crumbled in Front of his current companion. No mask or face paint or armour, no facade of cokyness and happiness. His emotions are raw and his mind is still screaming at him, maybe that's why he hadn't noticed the burning eyes. These tears can't be new. Definitely not! He's happy and safe now, why would they be? He is brought from his thoughts as a hard smooth surface buts the bottom of his jaw, sending a short vibration of pain through his skull.

"'Ya sure this is alright?" A gruff voice nervously whispers.

"Yeah, 's fine" he mumbles back before finally looking down at the friend pressed against him. His own voice sounds raspy and sore. Perfect.

Raph has put his head back down on the pillow, his beak fitting like a jigsaw puzzle in the gap above Casey's shoulder. The bolt he'd felt had been from Ralph bucking his head to hit his jaw with the top curve of his beak. It hurt a little but he isn't fragile. Raph knows that. All he can feel now is that comforting weight on his side. He's focusing on it. Raph certainly wasn't scared to touch him. Why else would he hit him to gain his attention?

Soft cold breath gently brushes against Casey's neck in delicate puffs.

"I can sleep on the floor y'know?" tiredly drifts out of the terrapin creatures mouth "This bed ain't exactly made for two"

"Nah it's your room, I'm the intruder"

"Hmm" Raph lazily hums and slightly squeezes his ribs, getting comfortable in his squashed position on the edge of the bed "a warm one".

Casey sits there in silence for a bit, his friend drifting off to sleep. The overwhelming smell of sweat and blood and the sewers clogging his nose. Raphael is the only person Casey talks to about his home life, the only one he talks about his troubles too. He knows Raph instils that same comfort and confidence in him as he tells the lanky teen his own insecurities and secrets.

Tender moments like these however? They usually proceed fights. Fights they start coated in darkness or just heated spars between friends who are shouting and blowing off steam. They'd collapse with exhaustion on some random rooftop and through jagged breaths become vulnerable, no eye contact, maybe a squeeze of the hand or a punch in the side to let the other one know they're there. Kind, soft and comforting pain. Like the kind you get from laughing too hard or playing a game. It is strange to think they are now squashed and laid across each other, even if the reptile insists the body warmth was an exciting upgrade to his sleeping arrangement.

Casey was kicked out tonight after a particularly bad fight at home, he limped his way to his usual meeting spot and a few texts later Raph was on his way. He's going to be staying here with his friend, just tonight... he'll go home tomorrow. No one else in the sewer family needs to know why, Raph will come up with a lame excuse to torment him with. The thought makes him smile a little. Raph is the epitome of masculinity. Testosterone coats his existence like a second shell. He's violent and abrasive and yet here he is, not throwing punches, but still being gentle. His body weight is not entirely on top of the teen, but it is there along his right side nonetheless. He wasn't repulsed by Casey and he hadn't tried sugar coating anything all night. When he 'picked him up' he'd joked at Casey's expense and made the boy laugh. Casey wasn't too sure how Raph managed to create such a strong positive moment up on that rooftop in those circumstances. But none of the Hamato clan followed logic by nature so maybe that is not so surprising.

Casey isn't sure why this isn't affecting him the way it usually does. He feels calm and safe, even stripped down to his boxers and pressed into an old smelly matrice and cold metal wall.

Maybe it's because he keeps reminding himself that Raph doesn't see the squishy, thin human as delicate. He knows the turtle enough to know he considers Casey a great enough fighter to stand amongst his brothers, without any formal training or skill.

Maybe that's why this tender moment is nice? Raph isn't scared Casey will break, he wouldn't touch him if he thought he'd be hurt. Raph wouldn't joke with him and invite him here like this. The ninja had seen the boy break earlier, as he broke down and sobbed on the bed when they first arrived at the decorated subway car. The weight against him now is heavy, not crushing. It's grounding him.

Why is being treated tenderly so nice right now? Maybe that's the kind of privilege having a best friend creates? He doesn't remember his childhood friend creating such a welcoming environment before though.

Casey hates people seeing him as weak. Raph doesn't, even now.

#TMNT #tmnt 2012 #casey jones #raphael hamato #casey jones 2012 #raph 2012 #seagull scribes #seagull squawks #its weird posting a fic when i havent like done art to post and can just hide it in the comments #also its been over a year since i shared any writing #you can probably tell by everything im not a writer #2012 rasey #so like i do ship rasey and i am only posting this cause they have no conent and there is deffo a fellow need out there also starving #but i didnt write this as a ship fic its meant to be platonic and i was just focusing a lot on a lot of my old bad teenage experiences #and how my friends and found family helped me and stuff but if you wanna be like lmao love does that im cool with that #totally open to you if you have a secret third interpretation #idk what else to say i have so many unfinished incomprehensible drafts of these for every fandom ive been in but yeah posting this one #oh because its kinda pulling references from my own experiences i put some references in here to my friends they nay recognise #but i also doubt they'd read it id be shocked if this got more than lets sayyyy 11 notes ahaha #ill have to learn to draw humans or continue learning i should say #i wanna deaw these dudes more #also if you see mistakes let me know i am so so bad and typing and English and writing in general

[ricesinspo]

☆ school scenarios (and related).

because we all have that one story that takes place in school right?? no? just me? okay..

by @ricesinspo credit is appreciated!

being partnered up with someone (or a few people) they don't like / know for a group project. perhaps for a subject they hate as well.

^ and they were groupmates ... (they bond over the project lol.)

prom queen turned evil.

running off during a class trip to do their own thing.

^ everyone else goes looking for them only to find them just chilling at a coffee shop or something.

^ alternatively: they never get found. started a new life somewhere no one's ever heard of.

character stops coming to school for an unknown reason that may or may not get discovered later.

finally finding a friend after years of being the quiet / 'outcasted' kid.

meeting an old classmate / best friend long after they graduate.

kid who used to be popular, but now everyone hates them.

taking part in (regional / national) competitions; going somewhere new and meeting lots of people.

going to cafés or restaurants to discuss homework.

#ricesinspo #writing inspiration #writing prompts #plot #school prompts #- can you tell that a lot of these are Not based on personal experience #- i can't base this off of experience it's either really boring or i don't remember anything #- i mean these are kinda boring regardless ahaha...... im not great at coming up with ideas