#I guess I draw hair big and fluffy maybe? idk

[morninkim]

the gang's all here!!

now we're just missing team rocket 👀

inspired by kianamai's redesigns!!

design notes and lil musings under the cut!

Ash takes a lot from Pokespe in terms of his proportions (at least how the early chapters look in my head) and some cues from the newer movie designs bc i LOVE those, especially the one from Power of Us. So ya I also wanted to give him a big poofy jacket bc of i remember seeing an interpretation of Red's original sprite as a big jacket as well and i think it suits Ash a lot. The style was kinda early One Piece inspired at first, so there's just a big of Luffy in Ash's design, but I think it ended up more Digimon Adventure in the end lmaoo. The nose bandaid's to just elevate that rookie protagonist feel a lil bit + I spent way too long figuring out a new hat symbol lmaoo. He's also 11 in this world to match Red's age in RBY.

Pikachu I just wanted to draw him like Red's Pikachu in Special and give him the lighter coloured tummy from early artwork.

Misty's the biggest departure obvs but I knew I wanted to give her a crop hoodie and take inspo from Kiana Khansmith's Misty and give her the wetsuit as an undersuit. Then the chunky shoes were carried over from Ash with big scrumpled socks bc I thought it made her look a lil more unkempt. The whole goal was the make her more scrappy looking and focus in on the whole "Tomyboyish Mermaid" thing from the games. Also combined her RBY hair with her GSC do by making it a half-up ponytail that I think is very cute. OH and her shoes are Cerulean Gym branded, bc I imagine in this world there's merch for each Gym that the leader wear, so the wet suit and hoodie would be branded too. The hoodie's just cropped above the logo and the wet suit's logo's covered by clothes. She's about 12, so a lil older than Ash and does not let him forget it.

For Psyduck, I wanted to make him a lil fluffier and ugly-duckling + incorporate the three lil sprout hairs he's got a lil more to suit the style. He also has a neck now, you just can't see it super well here. He's just a fluffy lil duck who hurt a lot. Poor lil guy :((

Brock was pretty straight forward, I kinda wanted to reference his Sygna Suit from Masters with pants and a tank top, but made the pants into cargo pants that can be unzipped into shorts (he's thinks its the coolest thing in the world. He wears hiking boots to go over rougher terrain as a Rock-type Leader and hunt for fossils bc I like that aspect of his game characterization so I carried it over here, and he wears an armband with Pewter Gym branding. His tiny lil facial hairs are all he can grow at the moment bc he's still like 15 as usual, but he thinks it makes him look ~Older, Maturer & More Sophisticated~ so refuses to shave it.

I wanted to incorporate a lil more Geode Dude into Geodude so I changed his colours a bit and added parts where the outer layers of the rock have kinda chipped away in battles to reveal the crystal underneath + added the eyebrows from Alolan Geodude. I imagine it's like, the more outer layer gets chipped away from a Geodude, the closer they get to evolution. I do not at all know what this world's Graveller or Golem would look like but I think I'd canonise the theory of Machoke and Graveller taking aspects of the other when traded and make them kinda like Karrablast and Shelmet in a way.

Broad plot strokes are just these guys would exist in a version of the indigo league w an expanded kanto dex to include all related mons + variants, so stuff like Electivire and Annihilape and Alolan Exeggcutor would exist in there without much fanfare of ~Woahhhh Newly Discovered Pokemon~. Regional variants would be found on the Sevii Islands. Maybe there'd be small type changes too idk. Like pure Rock Geodude that gain Ground on evolution bc Gravel-ler. idk who knows I'm just spitballin. Essentially just a lil more closely following the Game's story, I guess. Less wacky loose adaptation stuff from Indigo League. Not bc I don't like that stuff, just bc it's not what I'd do.

I figure like, there'd be an interlude short arc that takes place in the Sevii Islands just after the Vermillion Gym where Ash would catch a Galarian Farfetch'd and all forms of Paldean Tauros instead of like, 100 Kantonian Tauros, and be introduced to Legendary Pokemon through a quest to track down the Galarian Legendary birds (then find out others can be found back in Kanto). Naturally he'd use the PC system (maybe adapted as some kind of daycare or something, or maybe just a teleporter to Oak's lab like the main anime) and have a couple more than 6 team members to rotate out as needed. Also. Mega Evolution would be a factor bc I think it'd be cool, so Ash gets to Mega Evolve Charizard into Mega Charizard Y.

OH also just for funsies, I'd split the starters across the trio, so Ash gets Charmander, Misty gets Squirtle and Brock gets Bulbasaur.

Basically Ash would end up with more or less the same team from the original series, but with added Annihilape, Sirfetch'd, Paldean Tauros and Mega Charizard Y. I also think I'd add Dragonite from Journeys and make his Gengar the Haunter he befriended that would follow him in secret after helping him beat Sabrina and evolve in the Cinnabar Mansion + officially join his team there.

Squirtle would evolve into Wartortle with Misty and Bulbasaur would stay in the same stage with Brock like Ash's.

I'll come up with and probably draw everyone's main teams at some point later but. ya. that's my piece!

#pokemon #pokeani #ash ketchum #pokemon anime #misty #brock #pikachu #psyduck #geodude #i say we're just missing tr but i'll probably also do gary and prof oak and delia and stuff hehe #my art

[dotster001]

Oooh, this looks fun! I guess I'll request for Court of Darkness. The first path I chose was Rio because he seemed like the only sane person at the time. I'm glad I did because he's a literal ray of sunshine and I could not ask for a better friend. I'm reading Guy's route (ew) for Aquia. He's just so sweet, and quite frankly the best part of reading either Guy or Jasper's path. When he said that I was his first love, I wanted so badly to requite his feelings. Can I have a fluffy romantic story with me and Aquia pls?

As for the info about me, I'm just gonna copy and paste what I wrote for one of my earlier requests so... Here ya go

Appearance: I am a 165 cm tall, average build, South Asian woman. I have wavy black hair that reaches my shoulders and I usually dress in South Asian attire, usually salwar-kameez. I also wear glasses. I don't really feel comfortable going out without them 😅

My MBTI and enneagram: INTJ 5w4

Star sign: Sagittarius sun, Virgo moon and rising

Sexuality: demiromantic asexual

Personality: I'm pretty calm, collected and hard-working for the most part. People say I'm intelligent, quiet, and polite. I can be sarcastic at times, although people often say it's hard to tell when I'm being sarcastic. I'm probably the most emotional unemotional person I know. I don't really show a whole lot of facial expressions, but I do feel things more deeply than people give me credit for. I also tend to get overwhelmed easily, especially when I'm in really noisy places for prolonged periods of time (Cries in neurodivergent. Maybe. IDK I've never been diagnosed. I'm just calling it symptoms disorder for now). When people get to know me, they say that I'm a good listener and that they feel safe to speak their mind to me. My favourite hobbies include reading, playing video games, listening to classical and lofi hip-hop, and making art. I especially like to draw and paint things that radiate a sense of comfort, nostalgia and serenity. Someone also told me that my artworks also hold a sort of innocence in the composition of the shapes, colours and the overall vibe of what I draw/paint.

(I may have spelled Acquia's name wrong this entire thing.... don't worry about it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the time with your squishy boy!)

A Tale Where Aquia's Feelings are Requited, and Rio Helps it all go down

Rio had been there for you from the moment you set foot in the world. So he was also there to watch as you and Acquia started to fall for eachother. There were two problems though. The first was Acquia didn't have the confidence to confess his feelings. The , was that his big brother, whom he respected above all else, seemed to still think he could own you.

But Rio was a determined man. A determined man who thrived off making the people around him happy. 

"Good work, mate! That dough is coming along nicely. Just need it for a couple more minutes and it should be good!"

Food brought people together, right? Well, by Rio's calculations, proving bread dough would keep people together for at least an hour. 

"This is fun! Thanks for inviting me to bake with you," Acquia laughed, unperturbed by the flour covering his clothes. 

"Hey Rio, what is it you wanted?"

Perfect timing. Right as they'd have to wait for the bread dough to rise, you arrived in the room. 

"Hey! I was hoping you could draw a picture of Acquia for me. You know, since he's such a good friend I wanted to send a picture of him home so my father would know what he looks like."

It was a flimsy excuse at best. But he was hoping that with the simmering feelings you had for each other, neither of you would question him. 

"Okay," you seemed hesitant, and Acquia was a blushing mess, but you were sitting down and taking out a notepad.

"I'll add color later, right now it'll just be a rough sketch. Just go about as normal, Acquia."

Acquia nodded, but seemed at a loss. But Rio was prepared for this.

"Oy! Rio! There's a weird weed we need to get out of the garden!"

Thoma rushed into the room with his pre-prepared excuse. It wasn't good acting, but it would suffice.

"Ah, I should see to that."

Both of you stood up, seemingly ready to help.

"No no, you guys have to stay here and watch the dough. Don't take it out of the drawer until it has at least doubled in size."

Then he and Thoma left you both, triumphant grins on their faces.

        

                               ….

"I hope they're okay," Acquia muttered.

It had been quite a while since Rio and Thoma had left, and if you knew anything about Saligian plants, it was that it was very possible for them to eat humans.  But you weren't going to upset Acquia.

"Rio's tough, I'm sure he's fine."

"Yeah, you're right. He probably got hungry and went out for a victory snack."

You finished up the final touches of your sketch, then set down your pencil.

"Okay, all done!"

You pushed the paper over to Acquia, and held back a giggle as he started blushing again.

"This is how you see me? I look so….I guess the word is sweet."

"Well yeah," you said matter of factly. "You're my sweet Acquia."

"Your Acquia?" 

That's when you realized how it sounded, and got flustered yourself. Not that you meant it any other way, but you didn't know if he was ready for that.

"I…" he whispered, "I'd like to be yours."

"R-really?" You found yourself caught off guard.

"I mean….yeah. I like the idea of being your Acquia. It makes me feel," he blew out a frustrated breath, like he couldn't find the word he was looking for.

"I guess the idea of being yours makes me very happy," he finished, nodding to himself.

"Well, if you're mine, then I have to be yours. Those are the rules," you said, hoping to regain some of the footing he just knocked out from under you.

His smile was as bright as the sun as he gently took your hand and said, "I'd like that a lot. I'd be the happiest prince to ever live."

He frowned.

"I do have one request though. Can you draw a different picture of me for Rio? I want to keep this one."

                                   ….

That was a day of many firsts for Rio. Two of his best friends became paramours, and, for the first time in his life, he forgot he was baking bread.

Later, when you gave him the second picture of Acquia, he had also forgotten what the thing he needed it for was.  

And that was what reminded you how great of a friend Rio could be.

#court of darkness x reader #court of darkness #aquia avari #aquia avari x reader #aquia x reader #cod aquia #1k followers

[smol-grey-tea]

Worth and Warmth

Felt the inspiration to write but didn't feel any kind of plot or story. Just a feeling, just what's been going on around me. Had to draw from somewhere at least. Little practise.

Really wanna get into writin that Nameless Secret Ending 3. It sounds super difficult, so take this as a warmup/first attempt/first chapter?????????? Idk!!!!!

The weather's been this cold for more than a week now, but it still hypnotizes me, the way my breath blows out in puffs of steam from the top of my blue scarf, into the white air. Wrapped up in fluffy layers, the air still feels so cold, as though my fingertips, face and skin might turn white with all the snow. My nose, though, remains as red as a character from an old Christmas song that I remember I used to sing with Grandpa.

There he is. I watch him walk towards me, careful not to slip on the ice, and my jaw almost drops at the sight of him.

All of his clothes were way too big on him, especially those boots that seemed to reach halfway up his thighs, despite them being only tiny. A big woolly grey hat with a brown pompom enveloped his head, leaving only his one eye and a tuft of purple hair sticking out from the bottom of it. The rest of his face was obscured by the multicoloured scarf that reached down to his knees, poking out from the bottom of the huge black coat he had zipped up right to his nose.

You could see by the way that one end of the scarf was knotted, frayed and tangled, while the other end was almost perfectly straight, that it was the maker's first attempt at knitting, their progress clearly displayed by how the quality and consistency of the project dipped and bobbed as it continued.

He walked quite slowly, eager to reach me, but happily taking in his surroundings at the same time. His arms sat down by his sides in a way that reminded me of how a penguin would waddle along with arms held slightly away from the body.

Almost invisible in the snow, a bird hopped along his path, picking at worms and sticks with joy. It caught his interest and his eyes were trained on it, even as he walked past and it flew up into a tree. I was almost so distracted by it myself that I didn't see the divot in the ground ahead of him, and unfortunately, neither did he, as he stumbled, still with his eyes on the bird.

We both let out a startled yelp as he landed on his hands and knees on the pavement. I couldn't see before, due to his coat sleeves being too long, but his fall revealed the mismatched fluffy gloves he wore, now dusted with a light layer of snow and ice and grit.

I offered a hand to him, gloved in a pink mitten, but he silently refused it, clumsily getting back to his feet on his own.

Now stood face to face, we both smiled at each other, the emotion visible easily in the little we saw of our faces, obscured by our layers of warmth.

I didn't actually know he'd be wearing any of this. I'm not really sure what I expected either though. I guess I assumed that he would've borrowed some of Yeonho's clothes? Surely they would have fit much better for him, and besides, would have made it a bit easier for him to walk in all this ice.

Or...maybe he found them with him in that closet he'd been waiting for me in. Maybe he didn't find them, but they were there all along. Waiting with him. Waiting for a cold day like this one for me to see them again.

I looked at those clothes he wore and recalled where I remembered them all from. The hat was Grandma's. I remember her winning it at a raffle she attended with me at an event at my old school. I think one of the teachers made it.

The coat was Grandpa's. I remember how the front and the sleeves were stained from when I insisted on painting outside, in the cold, but I was in such a rush that I couldn't find my own coat, so I used Grandpa's. I don't even remember what I was so eager to paint that I just had to do it outside, at the coldest time of the year. Maybe the snow was especially pretty that day? Whatever it was, it must not have been too good of a painting. I haven't picked up a brush since.

The scarf, I now recall, was a Christmas present. It was from me to Grandma, which she taught me how to knit. I'm not sure, but I think that year, my present to Grandpa was a pine cone? That might have been a better present, considering how messy the scarf is. But it seems that it's stood the test of time better than any pine cone ever could.

We held hands as I turned towards the others, waiting by the limo, and I felt the softness of his gloves. I admit, I believe that each item has it's own story, it's own memory. And despite remembering all of the other clothing item's stories, I couldn't recall anything specific about the gloves. Even the boots I could now remember wearing while trying to catch frogs at the nearby river. But I couldn't remember anything about the gloves.

I felt his warmth through them though. As impossible as that might seem. His warmth melted through the cold and kept me company, kept me safe.

I used to think that we should try to hold onto the memories of the things we have around us, of the things that have stood by us. But maybe I'm wrong. Memories hold power. But it's not everything to be able to hold onto a memory. Maybe it's just enough to hold onto it's value.

I don't know what the gloves mean. Perhaps he'll tell me. But I know that even if I don't remember their story, I still remember their worth.

#my post #cheritz #nameless the one thing you must recall #nameless #ntotymr #cheritz fanfic #nameless fanfc #uhhhh what else do I tag this as. I just feel like the tag's a bit dead and I'm a bit bored and a bit inspired. so here. #writeblr

[chisatowo]

I think one of my favorite parts about getting compliments on my art semi regularly is finding out the specific stuff that stands out abt my art style to others. It's a lot easier for me to have confidence in my art when I actually know what specifically is cool abt it :)

#rat rambles #apparently it used to be like a whole thing in the art community that thick lineart is ugly? idk Ive heard some people bring it up #but like every time someone compliments my art they always bring up how thick it is as a positive thing so I appreciate that djdbdjdv #I personally love drawing thick lineart!! #its fun and it makes it easier to make sketchy lineart look good djdjsv #the one thing abt thick lineart is that it makes drawing complicated designs impossible #which is why I so geavily simplify like every dr character I draw #tge two reacuring compliments that suprised me the most was that ppl like how I do textures and hair #I feel a bit bad abt the textures compliment since thats not rly like... a me being good at ary thing #but I am facinated by the hair compliment #Ive had my siblings tell me abt me drawing haur cool too and I just dont get it #I guess I draw hair big and fluffy maybe? idk

[jackrrabbit]

practice makes perfect /// Mitsuri x f!Reader (18+)

Request: Hey! I read your Shinobu NSFW thing. I was wondering if you could write a Mitsuri NSFW thing but not as intense? Like Mitsuri and her female S/o are cuddling and things get a really steamy so they start kissing and fingering each other? Please and thank you!

A/N: REPOSTING because when I posted this a few hours ago it was glitching and not showing up in tags and stuff :( sorry to anyone who has already seen it!

I love Mitsuri and I get so few f/f reqs so ty for the request 💕 Y’all know idk how to write true vanilla so this is a little more spicy (Mitsuri and reader are not in an established relationship), but I made it soft just for you anon

Summary: When the most popular girl in school offers to help you practice kissing, it’s not like you’re going to say no.

Tags/warnings: inexperienced reader, femme preppy Mitsuri, she’s a little soft dom? like just a tiny bit, mild orgasm control, fluffy smut, crushes, modern high school AU, heteronormativity, reader thinks she’s straight lmao, all characters are adults

Okay, Mitsuri isn’t just the queen bee of your school. She’s also the prettiest girl you’ve ever met. It shouldn’t be possible for a person to be that beautiful, much less fair—what was god thinking when he gave her that pink and green hair that would look clownish on anyone but her? Those thick, dark eyelashes framing eyes you feel like you could drown in? Those long, perfect legs?

(Not that you stare at her legs or something. It’s just—your school uniform skirts are kind of short, and she always wears those striped thigh-highs, and she sits next to you in senior Biology and sometimes she stretches her legs out in the aisle between your desks and flexes them while she sighs during long lectures, and seriously, her legs are perfect.)

Mitsuri is the kind of girl who gets asked out by a different guy every other day. She has a fan club. Boys write Mr. _____ Kanroji in their notebooks, circle it with hearts, and fantasize about marrying her. She has more ex-boyfriends than you have Facebook friends. So you’re really sure why, somehow, you two have become…close?

If you have to, you can trace your friendship back to that Biology class. The teacher has a bad habit of cold-calling students for answers to questions, which makes him pretty unpopular. You’ve gotten used to it over the months, deciding that rebelling is a less productive method of dealing with it than just making sure to review the textbook chapters at least twice before every class, but apparently Mitsuri isn’t quite as familiar with the material.

When the teacher calls on her (a bit vindictively, you think, probably because she’s chewing pink bubblegum and drawing cherry blossoms in the composition book she’s supposed to be taking notes in) to ask her something about determining whether an organism’s life cycle exhibits zygotic, gametic, or sporic meiosis, she just gapes blankly back at him.

You feel sorry for her. It’s always painful to watch when someone can’t answer a question in class—you might be a fairly good student, but you still sympathize with how embarrassing it is to be put on the spot like that. The teacher refuses to move on, repeating her name and prodding her until her face is flushed bright pink and her lower lip is trembling. You’re not trying to pity her, but you can’t help it, and before you can think better of it you’re writing ‘compare diploid and haploid forms’ in the corner of your notebook and surreptitiously sliding it her way.

After the class, she pulls you aside in the hallway to thank you, eyes bright, telling you you’re so smart and kind and thoughtful and wondering how come she’s never talked to you before. “What a waste! We sat next to each other all semester, and I’m only getting to know you now.”

No wonder she’s popular. Her exuberance is infectious, like her good mood is seeping into your skin from her hand wrapped around yours. Mitsuri isn’t just pretty, she’s the kind of person who makes you feel good about herself just by being near her.

You’re about 100% sure that’s the last time the two of you will talk (unless she needs help with Bio homework and decides you’re the best candidate to get answers from). But it’s not. Mitsuri insists on treating you to boba after class—you try to deny her but she refuses to hear it and you can’t say no to her when she looks at you with those pretty jade-chip eyes. You get milk tea with black tapioca pearls swimming in caramelized fried sugar; her drink is jasmine rose fruit tea with tiny cubes of green apple floating at the top. “It looks like your hair,” you tell her, motioning toward the pink-and-green drink.

“Really?” Mitsuri’s cheeks turn red, which you notice is a frequent occurrence for her. “That’s why I got it. Isn’t it cute? I love how pretty all of the drinks are at this teahouse.”

The two of you split a little matcha cake. And then a vanilla taro cake. And then Mitsuri orders sweet potato fries and gyoza and fried chicken and shrimp tempura and wow, this girl can eat. “I kind of have a big appetite,” she tells you shyly some time around her fourth order of hanami dango. “Sorry, is it weird?”

“Not at all! It’s cute,” you blurt out, and then immediately cover your mouth. Cute? Where did that come from? That’s not the kind of thing you’re supposed to be saying to a girl you barely even know, or is it? Maybe you’re overthinking this. Mitsuri is so beautiful it’s hard to think straight around her.

You’re so busy staring down at your lap and blushing that you don’t notice she’s doing the same thing.

Mitsuri seems to take that teashop date hangout as permission to pursue a full-fledged friendship with you. Before you know it, she’s inviting herself over to your house after school, dragging you to cafés and picnics to study together on the weekends, and begging you to sit with her at lunch. Her other friends don’t seem thrilled at your being her favorite new playmate, but she doesn’t mind it so you try not to, either.

Like right now. It’s a weekend, and she’s decided that her house is going to be the setting for an overnight Bio study session slash sleepover in anticipation of the test you have coming up. You’re scouring the textbook for an answer at her desk while Mitsuri lies on her stomach on her bed with her feet kicked up behind her and crossed at the ankles. Graded quizzes are spread out in an arc around her on the cotton candy-colored duvet, and the sparkly gel pen she’s using to write flash cards is poking out of the corner of her mouth. With her fair skin barely covered by a tank top and shorts, loose hair flowing over her back, and dark brows furrowed in concentration, she looks like the centerfold of a teen magazine from the 90s.

I bet guys have wet dreams about her, you think. Then you shut down that line of thinking, shut it all the way down because you’re not supposed to be thinking these things about a female friend, no matter how pretty she is or how glossy her lips look even though she’s just wearing chapstick or how good she smells (like strawberries? honey? or whatever sweet she ate last, you’re not sure). But you can’t quite tamp down the feeling that you’ve stumbled on some unbelievable luck to get close to her.

You’re not the only one having trouble focusing on your studies. “I’m done with this!” Mitsuri exclaims, throwing down her pen so it makes a stray line on the quiz she was reviewing before it bounces off the bed. “I’m so tired of studying, aren’t you? If I learn another thing about cell division my brain is going to explode. Can’t we take a break?”

“Sure, if you want to get another 43%. Didn’t your dad say he’s going to stop paying your snack food fund if you fail one more exam?”

Her pink mouth drops open. “Hey! That’s not fair, I didn’t tell you that to use it against me. Be nice.”

But after a second, Mitsuri’s pout turns into a giggle. She hooks her foot around the stem of the office chair you’re sitting in and pulls it toward the bed along with you. “Come on! Let’s talk about love. Do you have a crush?”

You roll your eyes but relent, sliding off the chair and onto the big, fluffy bed next to Mitsuri. You can always get back to reviewing after you take a short break, right? She gathers up the quizzes and notecards and dumps them unceremoniously on the nightstand by her bed to make space for you, all too eager to stop thinking about Bio.

“I don’t have a crush,” you tell her.

“Really? There’s no one you think is cute? No one you want to get to know a little better?”

Well…if that’s what she means… You glance sideways at her. There’s definitely someone you think is cute who you want to get to know better. She doesn’t have to know it’s her—not that you have a crush on her; that would be ridiculous.

If she’s going to get that excited about your potential crush, how are you supposed to tell her you don’t have one? You’ll just have to pretend, for her sake. “I guess there’s someone. I wouldn’t call it love, but…”

Long black lashes flutter up at you as Mitsuri blinks. “Oh my gosh, who is it?”

“It’s a secret,” you say quickly.

“Aww, but I wanna know who you have a crush on!” She scooches closer to you and pokes you gently in the side. “Do I know him? Is he a senior? What does he look like? What do you like about him?”

“Um yeah, you know…him. He’s a senior but you’ll never—seriously never guess who it is, so don’t even try. He’s…really good-looking, I don’t know. He has nice hair…and, um, nice legs. And he…” you trail off, wondering what you can say about your secret ‘crush’ that won’t tip Mitsuri off that you’re talking about her.

“…I like him. He talks a lot but you can tell he cares about what you’re saying when he’s listening to you. He’s kind of dreamy and self-conscious about dumb things but it just makes me like him more.”

Was that too much? Mitsuri is looking into your eyes in pure rapture, holding onto every word you say. Are you being obvious? But—no way. She’s so loved by guys that she’d never even suspect that a girl could like her too.

Not that you like her. Not like that, at least.

After a moment when you feel your heart beating so deeply that you’re sure she can hear it too, she smiles sweetly and pinches your cheek. “You’re really pretty when you’re talking about your crush, (Y/N). You look like a maiden.”

You bite your lip, not sure whether to be embarrassed or flattered. If any other girl as beautiful as Mitsuri called you pretty, you’d think they were being insincere, but she’s not like that. Her genuine affection shines through in everything she does. If you’re pretty, she’s Helen of Troy.

“What do you mean, ‘a maiden’?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” Mitsuri says, tracing invisible hearts into her bedspread with a fingertip. “You just look…innocent somehow? Like this is your first love.”

You duck down, blushing.

“Wait, really?” She sits up and easily flips you over onto your back (sometimes you forget that a decade of cheerleading has made her at least a dozen times as strong as you are) so she can blink brightly at you. “This is your first love? Ooh…”

“Is that so weird?” you ask a little defensively. “I don’t get a lot of crushes.”

“No, it’s not weird! It’s cute,” Mitsuri says. “But aren’t you nervous? What if you fall in love with him and you guys start dating and you don’t know how to do anything?”

“Do what?”

“You know. Like, kissing and stuff. Aren’t you worried that you’ll have your first kiss with him and he’ll be like, ‘oh my gosh, you can’t even kiss, I don’t like you anymore’.”

“No one would say that,” you reply, but the scenario does strike a pang of anxiousness in your heart. You’ve always been too focused on school and friends and family to bother worrying about love, but the truth is you have worried about the fact that you’re soon going to be a high school graduate who has never so much as kissed another person on the lips.

“You have no idea,” Mitsuri sighs. “Boys are so mean. But I can’t believe you haven’t had your first kiss!”

“That’s rude,” you say, wrinkling your nose.

She flaps her hands in the air frantically. “No, no I didn’t mean it like that! Sorry! I just meant I can’t believe you’ve never had a boyfriend when you’re so pretty and nice. The boy who locks you down is going to feel super lucky that he gets to take all of your firsts.”

You sit up next to Mitsuri and lean back on her cushioned headboard. “I don’t care about that. Honestly, I’d rather have some practice before I get involved with anyone.”

A beat passes. Then— “Really? You want practice?”

You shrug. “I mean, I guess? But it’s not like I can just pick up some random guy and tell him to let me practice kissing.”

Mitsuri cocks her head to the side and long pink fringe falls away from her face. “You don’t need to do that. Just practice with me.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” What, is she going to give you tips on tongue technique or something?

“…Like this,” Mitsuri says softly—and then her delicate hand is stroking up the side of your jaw and carding into your hair, tilting your head to face hers and pulling you closer. She hesitates before she makes contact, looking in your eyes as if to confirm are you okay with this? But (maybe because you’re caught off guard, maybe because you think you do need the practice, or maybe because that angelic strawberry-honey smell is way too intoxicating up close) you don’t stop her, and she leans in and completes the kiss.

It’s soft. Smells sweet. Tastes sweeter.

Mitsuri’s lips are velvety and glossy-damp moving against yours. The scent you thought was honey is really honeysuckle—there’s a fresh floral quality to the taste as her lip balm is transferred from her mouth to yours.

The kiss only lasts a few seconds, but by the time she lifts back from you your lips are tingling. You cover your mouth with your hand like a damsel from a Victorian-era novel and stare wide-eyed at her.

“How was that? Your first kiss?”

“I—um, I liked it I think?”

Mitsuri smiles at you and it’s like a ray of sunlight falling down through a break in the clouds. “Yay! I’m glad.”

The two of you sit in silence for a second, and you wonder what you’re supposed to do now. Go back to studying? You’re not sure you’re capable of that when you feel like she’s…still kissing you. It hasn’t quite hit you yet that this is your first kiss—something special, something you’ll never forget. The feeling of Mitsuri kissing you is going to be written on your heart for the rest of your life.

What have I done? you think, but it’s not condemnatory. It’s a question, maybe neutral, maybe hopeful.

“Come on, come here,” Mitsuri says. “You need a little more practice.”

And then she’s kissing you again, all the while pulling you closer, closer, into her lap. She breaks the kiss just long enough to murmur to you to open your mouth. When you do, her tongue slips in, prodding gently between your lips and sliding up against yours. It’s a weird feeling—you can’t say with certainty that it feels good, but it doesn’t feel bad, either. It feels like something you could get used to.

This kiss is longer and deeper, and Mitsuri is sighing into the place where your lips meet. The kissing sounds are both embarrassing and thrilling. You can hardly believe that you’re actually doing this, kissing Mitsuri Kanroji in her bedroom and sitting in her lap with your thighs hovering over hers because you’re scared to let yourself press any deeper into her.

By the fourth kiss, you think you’re getting the hang of this. Your fingers are laced in Mitsuri’s hair, pulling her bangs out of the way so you can see her face clearly. Her eyes are hazy and intense, a warm glow suffusing her cheeks, and her lips are reddened. The feeling of not knowing whether you like having her tongue in your mouth or not is gone. You like it. You want more of it. You could do this all day.

…But apparently Mitsuri has something else in mind. She moves back and looks at you like she’s got a secret she’s dying to tell you. Her hands slide up your thighs, almost reaching the hem of the skirt you’re wearing—it’s knee-length, comfortable and practical for the weather—but with your legs spread over hers, the fabric is bunched up at the juncture of your hips and legs, exposing your thighs to view. Mitsuri’s fingernails (manicured, short blunt French tips, pale pink with stripes of gold near the nail bed) scratch painlessly into your skin. “You learn really fast, (Y/N).”

“Thanks…” you pant out.

“Can I do a little more? Just a little. ‘Cause, I mean, I don’t know if you’ve ever done this yourself—”

Oh. Oh? Mitsuri’s hand is creeping up under your skirt.

“—but it’s really good to have some experience with this, too, before you do anything with boys.”

She’s touching your pussy through your underwear. Those pretty manicured hands are stroking you through the fabric, fingertips sliding up between your lips with practiced precision. Oh god, can she feel how wet you are? You’ve felt that dewy heat growing at your core for a while, but you didn’t think she would touch you and feel it. “Mitsuri?”

“Are you already wet?” Two soft fingers pet your clit, moving over it side to side through your panties. “Did you get wet for me?”

“Mm—mm—Mitsuri…”

“Can I touch?” She pops her chin up and kisses you on the cheek, and then again on the other cheek, the side of your mouth, your forehead, all the while rubbing your pussy.

On the sixth teasing little kiss, you gasp and kiss her fully on the lips. “…okay?”

“Good…” Mitsuri smoothly pushes your ass up so she can hook fingers under the waistband of your panties and tug them down past your hips. You shift and let her do it—it feels like her touch is too hot, sending trails of warmth over every place where your skin meets. Her touch lingers even as you awkwardly straighten out of her lap for just as long as it takes to remove your panties and deposit them gracelessly on the floor.

Are you doing this right? Even with your shirt and skirt on, you feel more exposed than you’ve ever been in front of another person. You’ve never done anything remotely like this before—how weird is it that the first person to touch you is going to be a female friend? That you’re not doing this for the right reasons (and what are the ‘right reasons’? love? intimacy? desire?), but for practice?

Mitsuri settles you back onto her lap and slowly drags your shirt up over your bra. When the undergarment is exposed, she bites her bottom lip and sucks in a breath, and you feel eternally grateful that you, by some coincidence or trick of fate, decided to wear one of your nicer bras today. She cups the side of your breasts and runs her thumbs over the lacy wine-red fabric. “Beautiful…you’re so sexy, (Y/N). I can’t believe I get you all to myself.”

Your cheeks feel hot. Maybe desire is part of the equation after all.

Leaving your shirt bunched up over your tits, Mitsuri returns to your pussy, petting over your thighs and stroking up your mound. Her index finger dabs into the wetness leaking out of you and then circles around your clit.

Around your clit, not on it. If you didn’t know better, you’d think she’s deliberately not touching the place where you want— need to be touched. Her fingers are light and fluttery, not forceful in the least but making you crave more anyway. You try not to let your hips move, but before long you’re twitching on her fingers, trying to get her to do what you want. Your hands are braced uselessly on the headboard, but you hesitantly pick up your right hand to replace hers and touch your clit properly.

She isn’t having it. Her free hand catches yours before you can do anything. “Arms around my neck,” she tells you.

It’s frustrating to be unable to touch yourself when she just keeps building and building with these little flutters, but you trust her. Mitsuri’s a lot more experienced than you are. Slowly, you wrap your arms around her neck and wind your fingers into her loose hair.

Whatever she’s doing, though, it’s working. Even if you couldn’t feel how wet you are, you’d be able to hear it, the slick sucking sounds of your cunt dampened with your arousal. You’d be humiliated by the way it’s so obvious that you’re turned on if you were cable of thinking straight. Besides, Mitsuri doesn’t mind—at least not judging by the way she’s looking at you.

“Mitsuri…Mitsuri, can you…” You don’t know how to ask her, but you need more.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” Two fingers brush over your clit again and you almost flinch, the light contact sending a spark directly through you. “Tell me what you do when you do this by yourself.”

“I…um…it’s embarrassing…”

“It’s not embarrassing.” Mitsuri lays a short peck on your cheek. “Do you know how pretty you look? I could fall in love with you right now.”

It’s not serious. It’s just the kind of thing Mitsuri says without thinking, but your heart skips a beat anyway. “Touch—a little harder…”

“Where?”

“You know where!” you tell Mitsuri, with as much bite as you can muster.

Mitsuri smiles. “Here?” She pushes a finger into your pussy and you whimper. “Or…here?”

And she’s touching your clit, rubbing over it quickly and franticly, the first direct contact you’ve had since she started. The muscles in your back tense, legs stiffening, toes curling in your fluffy white socks. “Oh— oh, oh, oh— Mitsuri…”

“Does that feel good?”

After all her teasing, it feels more than good. It’s like you’re being filled up with something, some kind of heat that her fingers are bringing out in you, and it’s about to tip over and spill out. You rock your cunt against her fingers, trying to get her to go harder—but she’s already rubbing against you so quickly that you can’t think straight.

Two fingers slip deeper into your pussy, spreading you apart and pumping your slick cunt while her palm provides sloppy stimulation to your clit. You mewl and fall forward onto her, head thrown over her shoulder, so you can feel the vibration of her soft laughter in your chest. “Do you like it? I can tell…you know, your insides are holding me really tight….”

How does she say such dirty things with that pretty mouth? You’d tell her off if you thought you could speak without moaning. “Unff…mmm…”

“I’m going to make you cum, baby,” Mitsuri hums. “You’re going to cum on my fingers, okay?”

She’s right. You’re about to tip over that edge, overflow, get off with Mitsuri fucking you with two fingers twisting and hitting your g-spot and sliding over you so deliciously that you don’t even care that all of this is wrong. “I’m— I’m cumming—“

“Uh-uh.” Mitsuri’s hand stops, still touching but no longer moving, and the heat in your pussy plateaus and then dips.

You’re so frustrated you want to scream. “Mitsuri…!”

“Can you do something for me?” She resumes the teasing movements from before, edging over your clit but not finishing it. “Tell me who you really like.”

“What?”

“I know you like me.” Her free hand, around your waist, slides up and presses her thumb into the divot between two vertebrae in your spine. “When you were talking about your crush, I know it’s me. Tell me you like me.”

“I—I don’t—“

“No, you do. You like me. Say it. Say it, and I’ll let you cum. You want to cum, don’t you? You need it? I’m going to give you what you need, so tell me you like me…”

It’s not like she’s being cruel. Mitsuri’s tone is as sweet and kind and caring as ever. Her pace is agonizingly slow and she’s right, you need it. You’re lucky your chin is resting on her shoulder because you wouldn’t be able to stand it if she saw the look on your face as you choke out, “I like…I like you, Mitsuri! I like you!”

“I like you too, (Y/N),” Mitsuri gasps, and then her fingers are moving again, rubbing your clit, making you crazy, and it’s only a second but you want it so bad that you only need a second before you— you’re— you’re falling apart—

“Mitsuri!”

Oh god. Oh god. It feels good, it feels crazy. You can’t think. You can feel the muscles in your pussy squeezing down intermittently on her fingers. She holds you still as the shocks race up through you, letting you twitch and convulse in her arms.

“See now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Mitsuri sings in your ear.

It takes you a long moment to get the strength to sit up, flopping bonelessly backward on her thighs so you can look her in the eye. “I don’t know,” you sigh finally. “Wasn’t exactly easy.”

Her eyes close when she smiles. “Don’t worry about it. You just need a little more practice.”

#Kanroji Mitsuri x reader #Mitsuri Kanroji x reader #Mitsuri x reader #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #Kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny imagines #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer x reader #Kanroji Mitsuri #Mitsuri Kanroji #smut

[neongreengummiebears]

The Problem With Spinning Out and Zero Chill

Okay so spoilers. All the spoilers. Go into this at your own risk because every possible spoiler for both shows. Also: I will be speaking about these two shows with the assumption that readers have seen both and as such, will not need a summary of either. Okay, still here? Cool. 

I have no big hot take, just some observations that I would like to put out into the universe in regards to Netflix’s two most recent ice skating shows. Because I have a lot of thoughts, and also one big question for anyone who can maybe help me? 

For starters, Spinning Out and Zero Chill are both Netflix originals that premiered around approximately the same time, both of which feature figure skating as a backdrop for a lot of interpersonal drama surrounding the characters. It’s wonderful, because while I’m not very invested in sports I adore figure skating- It’s beautiful and fun to watch even if you don’t know a lot of the technical aspects or the names of the moves. However, for centering around the same sport the two shows are very different. Also, Spinning Out has already been confirmed to have been cancelled after the first season, while the future of Zero Chill is still up in the air.

In regards to personal preference, I liked Spinning Out a lot more than Zero Chill. It had a love story for me to invest myself in, as well as some messy, dramatic family dynamics, and overall the show was a lot more mature. I suspect that this may have actually been to the show’s detriment but that’s for later. In contrast, I found Zero Chill to be fluffy to the point of an ABC Family special. 

Do you remember those? Shows like Switched at Birth or Secret Life of the American Teenager, that tried to tackle big mature topics while keeping things family friendly? Do you remember how the writing was usually pretty sub par and the drama all seemed super contrived because there was only so much they could actually do within their given boundaries, so they made a much bigger deal out of small issues than they deserved? Yeah. Zero Chill felt like that. For example, the “hazing” from the hockey team was to...put balloons in his locker? And that was a...major diss? Worth getting super pissed? Idk. It’s just that, without the confines of being family-friendly day time programing, I have come to expect more from Netflix original programming. 

Alternatively, Spinning Out may have veered too far into the dark and gritty spectrum. If I had to guess where it failed, I would say that it introduced A LOT of drama, all within the first season and at times felt, overwrought. I think Spinning Out could have done with slowing down and taking a breath. Draw things out. Have the mother slowly escalate her abuse, stop and start with her medication, stretch out the love triangle between Kat, Justin, and Marcus. When I first started watching I thought that maybe Marcus would be Kat’s Luke Danes. Like throughout the show she dates other people, but eventually she realizes that she loves him and they end up together but...nope. The show established pretty early on that we were not going to have an epic, interracial friends to lovers romance. And I loved the enemies to lovers romance we got between her a Justin (Though I really think it should have taken longer. I liked that they hooked up before and that he was kinda low key pining but stretch it out. Sloooooooow buuuuuuuurn. Make it goooood. I want to feel the pining.) but it did feel like the cop out answer. And then they immediately introduce a black female character because apparently in the year 2021 we still have shows with exactly 2 black characters that are there to date each other. Like fuck, even South Park has made fun of that trope, it’s time to move past it. 

Secondly I think that it’s super out of character for Kat to ever go off her medicine, even if it is to help her skating. It’s the same way I felt when they introduced Ian’s mental Illness in Shameless. Like, maybe it’s a thing that people do and if you’ve known people that act this was in these scenarios than sure, maybe I’m wrong. But it just feels like they go to so much effort to show the effect that their parent’s mental illness has on them and their life when left untreated, they establish the characters as grown up too quickly, forced to mature due to their parent’s poor choices, and then just decide to have them follow in their mother’s footsteps when the plot demands more drama. I hated that as a choice for Ian and I hated it for Kat. Partly because I feel like it’s very out of character and cop-out writing, and also because I feel like if they had to do it at all it should have been later on in the series. 

One advantage that Zero Chill had for me over Spinning Out is that at least the characters were consistent. In this case I’m speaking mostly about Kayla, but also some of the others. Sure, I found Kayla’s impulsivity annoying instead of charming like I feel was the intent, but I liked her friendship with Skye arguably more than Kat’s friendship with Jenn. Mostly because Skye was pretty chill throughout the entirely of the show while Jenn would go from hot to cold and back. Do I think it’s stupid that Kayla and Skyle’s big storyline was “I want to skate with my BFF but regulations don’t allow it?” Yes. You’ve already established that Kayla doesnt care about competitions. The only time she ever did was because she wanted to skate with her OTHER BFF. So like....just skate now? You have Skye’s mom’s approval at this point, it doesn’t have to go anywhere. But at least the two seemed to genuinely be friends. Kat and Jenn started off with potential but then turned fairly toxic. Kat was never that supportive of Jenn, always wrapped up in her own stuff and Jenn just got crazy at the end there. I understand her being upset about Justin but then she learns that Kat is bipolar, you think theyre cool, and then she immediately throws that back in Kat’s face at the first inconvenient moment. 

Can I just say though, how much more interested I was when I thought the secret figure skater was someone on Mac’s hockey team? I was trying to guess which boy it secretly was and I thought that there would be a subplot about her trying to convince him to figure skate with her, but he would feel pressured by his parents to play hockey instead. And that would work as a foil to Ava, who wanted to play hockey but was instead forced to figure skate. And there would be an eventual romance because what can I say, I’m here for the romance. But no...it was Skye and then there was just that subplot about Mac wanting to date his sister’s only friend. And like, when I was trying to guess who it was I thought it might be Bear and that would be her romantic interest but....no. Bear just, also likes Skye. 

Also, is it some unwritten rule that for every white girl figure skater with brown hair, there must be an Asian best friend? This isnt a complaint, just an observation. 

And clearly I don’t ONLY have complaints. I thought that both shows ahd a promising premise, and I loved the relationship on Spinning Out. When Zero Chill actually bothered with real issues instead of contrived nothing issues, I think it did it pretty well. I liked the friendships and family dynamic better in Zero Chill, but wished that it would have been a little more mature like Spinning Out. I liked that the characters in Spinning Out were mostly adults and that it had a more adult tone, but I wish that they had dialed the melodrama back just a bit. What I really want, I supposed, is a combination of the two shows which leads nicely into my question for you all: 

I remember browsing Netflix months ago and seeing a figure skating show advertised, however it wasn’t either of these shows. It feels like these two shows were once one, and then got split up into two because I am completely unable to find the show I originally saw a commercial for. 

In that original ad there was a brother and sister, one who played hockey and one who figure skated. But the hockey brother was jealous of the sister because he felt like their parents prioritized her figure skating. So one day, before a big performance of hers, he met her right before the performance and yelled at her about how unfair everything was and it shook her up and when she went out on the ice she wasn’t focused. She slipped and fell, split her head open on the ice, and her confidence was shaken. 

But like...that wasn’t either of these shows so what the hell was it??? Were they once one? Was there some other show that hasn’t been released yet? Did I see it in a dream???? 

#netflix #netflix original series #zero chill #spinning out #zero chill spoilers #spinning out spoilers

[louisadaydreams]

reoccurring dream

hi this is my first tumblr post lol but i wanted to talk about something that’s been constantly happening to me since 2020 & i wanted to know if anybody can relate.

so basically i’ve been dreaming about this one person over and over again and recently he’s been showing up in my dreams more often. i can’t recall when exactly i started to dream about him, but i remember realizing one day when i woke up that i’ve dreamt about him before. it doesn’t sound too weird, right? well, here’s the thing: i have no idea what his face looks like. 

i guess that’s not too weird either, but, since i don’t remember his face, how do i know that it’s the same person? well, here’s another thing: although i can’t remember his face, i can remember other distinct features about him. i know that he’s tall & that he has black/dark brown hair. sometimes his hair is neat, sometimes it’s all messy, but it isn’t very short. it’s like...fluffy (but not too big and it’s not too flat either) if you get what i mean. he’s also not super muscular, he’s on the leaner side.

you could say that this guy could still be different every time since those physical features are pretty common, but here’s ANOTHER thing: every single time i dream of him, i get this feeling. i don’t really know how to describe it, but every time he shows up in my dream i feel safe & warm & like everything is right. it’s really freaky. the feeling doesn’t just exist while i’m dreaming, though. have you ever woken up from a dream and right as you wake up you feel kind of out of place? like physically you know you’re in your bed but it’s like you were just somewhere else? it feels disorienting and like you don’t fit into your own skin. well, i only feel that way after waking up from a dream with him in it. 

but wait, there’s more (pls stay with me ^-^). all the dreams that i’ve had with him in it have been pretty different. sometimes the setting ranges depending on a movie i watched that day or a book i’m reading (literally, one time i went to bed late after finishing the webcomic “sweet home” & i dreamt that night that he & i escaped from monsters). sometimes i can’t even remember where it took place or what it was about & all i can recall is that he was in it. but, the one single thing that they all have in common is that, in every dream i’ve had with him in it, he always protected me. in every dream, there was always some kind of danger or obstacle and protecting me seemed to be his goal. i can’t remember if it’s ever been romantic/platonic, but i just remember feeling so incredibly safe with him. saying that these dreams are comforting is pretty much an understatement. it makes me feel...idk...like i’m worth something i guess. 

that’s basically it. i don’t really know why i keep dreaming of him. maybe it’s a result of my mental health and the things i’ve gone through. it could be my brain creating a coping mechanism for things that have happened in reality. i dunno, but, whatever it is, i hope it’s something more than just a reoccurring dream. 

(im gonna put a bunch of tags so that this post has a better chance of reaching more people. pls intereact/respond if you see this, especially if you have any idea what this could mean or if you’ve experienced it before:D)

EDIT: so i’ve done some research & apparently it’s believed that people are incapable of coming up with a “new face” or dreaming of a person they’ve never met (ex: you may think that you’re dreaming of a stranger, but you’ve probably seen them before, even though it might have just been a person you saw walking down the street or something. and artists/illustrators usually base their drawings of people off of others they’ve seen, whether or not they intend to) so, since this boy i dream about is basically faceless cause i can’t remember what he looks like, maybe, when/if i meet him, i’ll wake up and remember what he looks like. maybe that’s how i’ll find out who he is? idk, just a hunch, but i really hope he exists somewhere. 

UPDATE (11/5/21): GUYS!!!!!! i think ive met him???? there’s a guy at school that I always knew of but i didn’t officially meet until this year. i stopped dreaming of the boy around the time i met him and i literally just made all these connections right now. we hung out on the 30th (october) with some friends at an amusement park & since it was so close to halloween there were scare actors walking around and scaring people. i HATE that stuff but he PROTECTED ME THE ENTIRE TIME JUST LIKE THE BOY ALWAYS DID IN MY DREAMS!!!!! and i mean like he was holding my hands and i was clinging onto his arm and he would switch me to the other side of him and tug me out of the way if a scare actor came near us. on the way home, i fell asleep on his shoulder and he leaned his head on mine and slept too. we’ve been talking everyday since then & sometimes we’re on vc until super early in the morning. everyone says that he’s usually the quiet type and doesn’t really talk to people online but AHHH!!!! could he possibly be who i was dreaming about? i don’t want to get my hopes up but this is CRAZY. any advice for me?

UPDATE #2 (11/27/21): we’re dating now:)

UPDATE #3 (12/6/23): we broke up in october and i fear nothing will ever be okay again

#reoccuring dreams #dreams #conspiracy theories #theories #advice #psychology #protective #webtoon #webcomic #sleep #books #bookworm #story #him #mental health #coping mechanism #weird #dream #spirituality #crystals #shifting #desired reality #meditation #theory #love advice #protect #ya books #fantasy #manga #anime

[someone-always-cares]

[image description: a q&a for the webcomic someone always cares. full desc under the cut because its long and wordy sorry]

post chapter 3 Q&A

first - previous - next

thanks for yalls questions!! it was fun to answer! if anyone still has questions feel free to ask whenever i am always 100% down to ramble. even if i did go slightly off topic in some answers

additional: went off topic with the hair question a bit. their bright hair is all part of the transformations. regular hair dye does exist though. best way to tell is that if the eyebrow matches the hair its probably not dyed. also, quartz’s hair is naturally ginger.

also for more on ages, check out the character bios here

also was gonna keep this in the tags but thought i might as well actually try to answer it: the question i found it hardest to answer was someone the song one. my taste in music is. a mess really. ive been listening to like the same 5 songs on repeat all day. more under the cut because i was rambling again and now its uhhh half 1am

if it helps at the time of answering that specific question i had home by cavetown on repeat, and that song reminds me of both rami and lewis. but that may be because i project onto those two a lot, and as a aro trans dude. who sucks with people skills, yeah of course i love that song.

specifically the vibes of like not knowing how to communicate (rami is fine with his friends but other people are different), the lines “ Turn off your porcelain face, I can't really think right now and this place, Has too many colors, enough to drive all of us insane” idk what the porcelain face line is supposed to mean but im picturing it as like. a mask. that you need to take off and stop hiding and rami does tend to hide when hes feeling upset, and the next two lines kinda could tie into that, like the feeling of when youre overwhelemed and just want the world to stop so you just hide somewhere. also the colours could go with chapter 3 with the chromatic abberation.

also the bit with “ my eyes went dark, I don't know where, my pupils are, But I'll figure out a way to get us out of here” just kinda sums up ramis whole hero thing with his powers and all. anyway this has turned into less what songs rami would like and why this particular song reminds me of him and lewis (lewis specifically has the hair cutting/chest hiding, [big transmasc mood], and also messy haired trainwreck who doesnt know who he is yet. also the ghosts bit)

i did end up picking upbeat songs because ramis a dude who like to try and be upbeat even if things arent. even if hes not really feeling it he will pretend to.

[full description: Anonymous said to someone-always-cares: “hi ily!!! do characters like quartz who have colored hair have that naturally or did they dye it?”

“its both natural and not! while most supers can do a magical girl ish transformation, including a change in hair colour, there are some exceptions.”

theres two small full body drawings of rami, one in civilian clothes, one fully transformed.

“if a superhero were to have a biological child, the child will inherit the powers of the parent(s). however, the child will not inherit the full transfromation. they do inherit any physical transformations, but not the outfit.”

theres a drawing of a woman in blue, quartz’s mother, fully transformed, holding her mask in her hand, smiling down at a much younger quartz as a child. hes smiling back up at her with the same blue eyes, pointy ears, and blue hair, but hes still in normal clothes.

“in the case of quartz, both of hisparents had superpowers, and he inherited those powers and the physical transformations.he can also pick and mix whatphysical traits to change.“

next is a headshot of adult quartz, his face split down the middle with one side having hair and eye like his mother, the other like his father. theres a list of traits from each parents, blue hair and eyes and pointy ears from his mum, and purple hair and eyes and pointy teeth from their dad.

 “Anonymous said to someone-always-cares:  Are all the characters the same age? If not, how old are they? Are they irl friends or just superhero friends?”

theres some headshots of rami and his team lined up with ages labelled: cam is 15, rami himself is 17, lin, mateo, and dante, are all 18, and cap is 20.

“rami and xandra were somewhat friends before she got superpowers, so when, after the incident with her old team, she found rami had developed powers, xandra stuck close to him. their other teamates started off as superhero friends but soon turned into irl friends too”

theres a headshot of lewis and jade. theyre both 17

“when lewis first decided to start being a vigilante,jade quickly found him and decided to help train himand offered to be a mentor of sorts, as they both have similar powers. that quickly derailed.”

“ cinder5555 said to someone-always-cares: How long does it usually take to make a comic page? I'm curious because they're so freaking good that they must take FOREVER”

theres a drawing of myself, a fluffy hair tired bastard in a hoodie, smiling

“Thanks! Ive been doing this shit since like 2017 and i still have no idea how long it takes me. i can get a page done in a day if i have nothing else to do or if its a simple page, but if i have work then maybe 2-3 days? i spend like, most of my free time doing this.“

another drawing of me, now looking frustrated muttering “how the FUCK does time work”

“but i can never do it all on one sitting.i will inevitably get distracted and zone out daydreaming mid drawing so its very hard to get an accurate read on how long it takes. so however long a piece of string is i guess“

the only qustion not from tumblr is a discord message from RuneStone Cabin:

“Q: Can you talk about the incidence of superpowers in this world? Like many people are supers, which powers are more or less common, how long they've been a thing for, stuff like that. Also does Omen know I'd die for them “

theres a drawing of omen pointing at a date circled on a calender marked “decembuary”, theyre saying “i know. i already wrote your death in my calender.”

then a giant wall of text reading: “Supers have only existed for a relativly short time, since the early 1940s. momento mori was the second person to have ever gained powers.

Only a small number of the population are supers! the chances are higher in more populated cities, but unusally london has oneof the higher percentages of supers. while nobody in universe has any idea of the origins of superpowers, it does seem that powers are more likely to occur in people who would actually use their powers.

as for what powers are most common, after making a badly catagorized spreadsheet of every superpowered character ive made for this world (70% of which will probably never even be seen), turns out that elemental powers are the most common. although not all elemental powers manifest as the straight up 'controling this element' as seen in characters like lin or tsunami. for example, iris's powers would fall under shadow elemntal powers, but theyre a lot more weird that just controlling shadows.there are some abilities that have never been seen before,such as ressurection or full on time travel (aka anything that could bring a character back to life), but powers are certainly allowed to toe the line eg healing, powers involving undeath, immortality, pausing or manipulating time.

aside from that, anything goes. you could get plain old superstrength, but you could also get the ability to create dogs with your mind. other not quite rules, more guidelines are that supers are immune to their own powers hurting them (unless they were pushing themselves too hard), although the way the imminuties occur may be inconvinient to the super.

while some powers may be 'more powerful' than others, powers dont really get to be way underpowered or overpowered in comparision to others. sure being able to talk to animals may feel a bit useless compared to someone who can lift 4 tanks at once, but nobodys going to end up with a power like 'can turn into a goose but only once' or 'can grow toenails twice as fast' or 'if i sneeze i can change my hair colour'. at the same time, youre not going to get someone with the power to snap their fingers and level a city, or instantly blow up the moon or whatever.

“Anonymous said to someone-always-cares: I love rami PLEASE tell me his favorite song(s) and why. I will die for you”

a drawing of rami saying out loud “i dont really have any specific favourite song, really? i just listen to whatever sounds catchy and then listen to that on repeat for hours until i hate it. i guess i do like upbeat songs? ones that make you feel happy even if the lyrics are sad”

“ un1c0rnhh said to someone-always-cares: tell me,,, please,, cam,,, are they a cat person or a dog person?? ily"

theres a drawing of cam a metre away from a cat lying down. she has her arm out and is making ‘psspsspss’ noises at it. end id]

FUCK i am so glad i didnt hand write all of that, it would have been a major pain in the ass to write it all and then have to transcribe all that next. but nope i could directly copy paste the asks and word answers. cheers if anyone made it this far down. if anyone wonders why this is uploaded late, you know now.

#sac #someone always cares #sorry to my friends i rambled to about the previosly mentioned attempt at catagorizing powers #i made a fucking spreadsheet and everything #it was awful #also it probably obvious but i still have yet to download the font i use to this computer #did i ever mention what i named the font when i made it #because its called 'dicks out for the void' or something #it was funny back in mid/late 2017 ok

[yodamn]

I'm adding on to my soft post about older siblings and parents to clones.

a head nurse who tells a particularly stubborn clone to get back in bed. Does the Mom Voice AND counts to three and he immediately goes back to bed.

a nurse who had a few little sisters. And since mom was always a little too busy, THEY were on Hair Duty. So maybe tup is in Med Bay and hella uncomfortable and his hair is just ugh all over the place. So big brother/sister is like Braid Time! And Tup. Just. Melts. And falls asleep.

bounty hunter hired by the republic to train clones. Little did the Kaminioans know is that they had a soft spot for kids. And maybe they come across a cadet or baby clone whos upset for one reason or another and they calm him down and cuddle him and maybe do that nose stroke like in Frozen 2

ive noticed that sometimes peoples families are really different. Mine is really close knit and physical with each other, meanwhile a friend of mines is just not as touchy feely. Well maybe theres a nat-born whos really physical and you know. We all know how touch starved the clones are. So like maybe at one point the nat-born sees a clones just laying and automatically just lays across him in cat pile fashion. Not even thinking about it. And then all the Clones are like Ö can we? And the officer is like ??? Of course? Like just, cuddling bro.

an older sibling officer who sees a Clone or Jedi who's got that look. Like a look of "Im just done, I'm so tired, I just want a hug but I'm not gonna ask for it bc i have to be professional and serious" and they are like alright guess I gotta. Guess its big sibling time idk. Come here you big emotionally constipated lug lemme give you a hug, a warm drink, and a soft blanket. Im here to listen.

or or or just like. Momma Bear. Someone sees a clone being yelled at or just like bullied or whatever and they go full get the FUCK away from my baby so help me God ill rip you THREE new ones. And once again clones are like Ö you did that for us?

Like maybe in the Senate someone is like clones are just weapons they are lower than low. And senator is a parent or older sibling and sometimes. Sometimes you can tell what they are thinking by body language. Especially shinies who havent fully gotten a hold of like hiding emotions. Senator sees that and like anger fills them. How dare you. How dare you.

A civilian sees a couple clones playing a their younger siblings or kids and its like well guess i gained a few new fully adult and armed kids/guess I have new siblings idk.

OR I saw someone sent in an ask to () about Pet Foolery and about Pixie and Brutus. And how Brutus was like Wolffe. And its. Like. What if. Wolf Pack gets a little stowaway or plo gets a new itty bitty padawan, a lost kid or you know SOMETHING. Kid becomes legit attached to Wolffe and the rest of the Pack and they get just as attached to them. Start calling them their "pup". Kids like !!! Look! Look at this cool rock! And these adult men are all like ÖÖÖ Cool Rock! Cool! Or plo brings them sweets and they are like ÖöÖÖ candies? I jus I love it. Or maybe conversely the Wolf Pack is like ugh its a brat but the kids either like FUCK you we are friends now or is too starry eyed at these huge guys to realize they dont like them. And maybe a whole "you mean you dont like me?" Scene happens like in Finding Nemo where baby gets upset and as SOON as tears start welling up theres 300 Clones Arming up to defend them and scare whoever doesnt like the babychild. Babychild falls asleep ON them and they cant move jus UGH so cute.

little kid goes to wrecker and says "I love you THIS much" and stretch their arms as wide as they possibly can and wrecker is like Ö and does the same and the kids like thats alot! And wreckers like Yeah!

kid gravitating to clones who Dont Like Kids. Bc kids are Like That. Like Cats.

kids, younglings, or padawans drawing pictures for the Corosaunt Guard or other clones and giving it to them. Them keeping Every. Single. One. And putting them all over their barracks.

Some pictures that were drawn specifically for THAT individual clone are kept with them even in battle. Like maybe one youngling in the creche was enamored by Cody when Obi Wan came to visit and was nice. Next time the kid saw him they gave him a picture of the two of them with the word friends spelt wrong under neath the two smiling figures and legend says Cody still has it to this day.

kids giggling and playing with the clones helmets, running around pretending to be them. Or making their own "armor" from cardboard or scrap pieces.

one really feisty kid having NO problem telling someone off for being rude, doesnt matter who it is. One time Anakin got snippy and kiddo walks up and says with all seriousness and courage "Youre Mean and a Bully". Ahsoka thought it was hilarious, Rex was honored by his courageous knight in shining robes and tiny pigtails.

Older siblings not really forcing the clones to accept their help but still like "Hey I'm big sister/brother and you gotta deal with it, I'm here if you need me" like if they see they have something on their faces and dont know the older sibling will wipe it off with mass protest. Coordinating with older clones to harmlessly embarrass younger clones. Or to get them to calm down.

I cant write for shit but im gonna have to try bc I gots some ideas. Ive got mostly fluffy soft domestic stuff but still 👀👀👀

[survivingthejungle]

soft; jerome x reader

ive never written anything this fluffy in my god damn life... hopefully its not a complete flop? idk

You hadn’t committed a crime.

Regardless of whatever conclusion the jury had come to, you would always maintain that you hadn’t committed a crime. Because, what crime is there in justice?

One of the men who had tried to assault you had just been a little too lazy with his knife, and in a moment of instinctual self-defence, you had pushed it back in on himself.

Unfortunately for you, the other man—the one who hadn’t been stabbed—had managed to pay off the jury to convict you of first degree murder, and the only way you would avoid going to straight-up prison would be taking the insanity plea.

You fought it—oh, how you fought it, tooth-and-nail— but in the end, you and your family didn’t have the resources, and the corrupt rich of Gotham once again won the day. The playout of your hearing had caused outrage throughout the city, and no one believed that you deserved to go to an asylum, but the public backlash surrounding your conviction still was not enough to get the decision overturned.

Some of the staff at Arkham were sympathetic to your case and did all they could to treat you like the normal girl you were, not like one of the truly mentally-ill patients who were there for good reason. Of course, not every staff member was this accommodating— Dr. Strange had been wanting to use you as an guinea pig for a while now. The only thing keeping him from doing so was your family’s constant visits and the fact that he couldn’t be sure that the nurses and guards who knew you and your story wouldn’t rebel against him.

About a month into your incarceration— one down, two to go— there was a change in atmosphere. An unusual burst of activity came about one morning; while you were in your cell, brushing your teeth and washing your face, a handful of guards all stormed past, seemingly guiding someone along with them. You peeked out of the small window on your door, but couldn’t see much aside from the guards and a quick flash of a tuft of bright red hair.

-

To ensure that your safety was never compromised and that all of the staff knew you were no real threat, it had been decided within the Asylum that you were not to wear the same black-and-white striped garments as all of the other inmates. Instead, you had been given a handful of simple, white cotton slips, and you had been allowed to bring some of your own sweaters, shoes, and socks from home. You had been allowed your own pajamas from home, so you decided to bring two pairs of basketball shots, two t-shirts, and a big sweatshirt to sleep in. In addition, yo also brought a handful of your favorite scrunchies and hair clips, and a notebook and pen to keep track of your thoughts and write letters while you were away. To say you stood out like a sore thumb would be an understatement; you didn’t look exactly like an inmate, you certainly didn’t look like staff, and you didn’t look like a normal teenage girl either. You just looked different, and you were okay with that. You were content just keeping to yourself, minding your own business, writing and reading when you had the opportunity, and getting the hell out of this asylum.

Until recently. A new inmate had recently been admitted; around your age, tall, vivid red hair, an unnerving laugh, and arrested on a count of matricide. When they brought him in, he was strapped up in a straight jacket and being wheeled around. He caught sight of you in the rec room and winked, and you, being caught in a trance-like daze, had simply lifted your hand and waved with a straight face. It didn’t help that he was an objectively attractive guy; if you had seen him anywhere outside of an asylum, you probably would’ve heart-eyed him with your friends. But you were in an asylum, the both of you, so you decided to maintain your earlier resolve of keeping to yourself and not interacting with anyone else.

-

The next day, you saw him come into the rec room. You were sitting in an old, worn-out bean bag reading one of the old hand-me-down books from a shelf in the corner. It was Madame Bovary, a title you’d heard repeated many times but never really looked into until now. You were halfway through and so engrossed with the tragic story that you didn’t notice a presence seat itself beside you until you heard a voice speaking.

“Hi gorgeous, I’m Jerome.” It was the redhead from yesterday, grinning at you.

“Hi. That’s not my name,” you responded, pulling your eyes away from him and back to your book.

“Well then, by all means, spill! What can I call you?” His voice was deep but had a childlike lilt, like everything he said was purposefully over-theatrical. He placed his chin on his fist, staring intently at you.

“My name is (Y/N). I don’t really wanna talk to anyone right now, so can you just leave me alone?”

“Jeez, just trying to be polite… Y’know, a girl could really use some friends in a place like this.”

“No, not really. I’m fine how I am. Thanks, though.”

He paused and looked at you quizzically as though he had just noticed something that he hadn’t before. “Hey, how come you don’t wear stripes like the rest of us, huh?”

“Because I’m not like the rest of you. I’m not supposed to be in here.”

“Ugh, believe me, babe, I tried that line too. Didn’t work. C’mon, what’d you do to get in here? Now I’m curious,” he prodded.

You were silent for a moment. Some people had no problem admitting that they had done something like that; in fact, some reveled in it. But you were not the kind of girl who could just openly declare that I killed a man. “...It was self defense.”

“Oh yeah,” he lightly scoffed, “Then how’d you end up here, and not scot-free out there?”

“This is Gotham,” you shot back, “There’s no justice in this city. If a rich man wants a girl locked up, she gets locked up. End of story.”

“Ain’t that the truth, sister.” He let out a sigh and leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. “Tell me something, though,” he started, staring at you. “Are you being serious?”

“You tell me… I’m already in an asylum. If I was really guilty, I would’ve admitted it by now, right?”

“Huh.” He shook his head, looking away from you. “Huh. You got me there. Well… that sucks for you, doesn’t it?”

“You’re telling me; I’m the one wrongly incarcerated.”

“Hey! That’s perfect! So you really do need a friend in this place, otherwise all the rest of these crazies are gonna eat you up…” he got closer to you before continuing. “Y’know, it’s really not safe for you here if you’re the only sane person. I think we should be friends.”

“If it gets you off my case, then sure, I guess.” A grin lit up his face and he leaned back out of your personal space; he did not, however, show any signs of leaving you alone anytime soon. “Will you leave me alone now, please?” you asked.

“What kind of a friend would I be, leaving you alone out here to fend for yourself? Nah, see, these other guys in here, they’ll do bad things to a pretty girl if she’s all alone. I’m just looking out for you.”

You considered his words for a moment. Although no one had truly tried to harm you yet, you hadn’t been here long. And some of the creepier inmates had been staring you down recently, now that you thought about it… “I’m not gonna, like… talk to you, a lot. I just read a lot. And write. And draw, sometimes. But I’m not a big conversationalist. So if that’s what you wanted from me, you got the wrong girl.”

“Hey, that’s fine by me,” he responded. “You just sit there and look pretty till you get to go home. I’ll be your silent protector.”

Not very silent, you thought. “Why… why do you even wanna be my friend, then? If you’re not looking for someone to talk to… You just wanna ‘help me out’? You’re a wannabe serial killer, you don’t really seem like the kind of guy who tries to help a girl out of the goodness of his heart.”

“What can I say?” he asked you. “I can be unpredictable. And you seemed kinda… Sad. Lonely. I dunno. But a pretty, innocent girl locked up in here shouldn’t have to fend for herself. I may be bad, alright, but I’m not completely souless!” He snickered to himself. “Heh, get it? ‘Cause I’m a ginger.” You let out a soft, breathy laugh at that; one you couldn’t contain. “Hey,” he reached out and nudged your cheek, “There’s that smile. Go on, I’m sorry, read your book. I’ll just chill here… Hangin’ out.”

-

The asylum was particularly chilly today, so you slipped an oversized, washed-out pastel sweater over your dress, as well as a pair of mismatched thick socks. You slid into a pair of plain brown ankle boots with loose laces and clipped two red barrettes into your hair, a yellow scrunchie on your wrist. According to the little red antique clock in your cell, it was nearly eight A.M.— breakfast, which Jerome would always walk down to with you. He always delayed the guards as much as possible before passing your cell, so that you could be escorted down with him.

It had been about two weeks since your first encounter, and while you were initially wary of the prospect of being chummy with a convicted murderer, there was something about him that drew you in. Maybe it was how charming he could be, or how protective he acted of you or how he definitely wasn’t the most unattractive person you’d ever seen, but you weren’t as opposed as you used to be towards being his friend. You heard the sound of struggling increase as it got closer and closer to your door, and you knew it was Jerome come to “pick you up” for the day. You waited at your door, looking out the barred slot as the guards got closer and closer.

“Excuse me? Could I be taken down to breakfast as well?” you asked them, and one with a key ring unlocked your door and let you step outside into the hall.

“Mornin’, (Y/N).” It was Anthony, a guard that you felt you had a good standing with. He was always respectful to you because he had been keeping up with your trial while it was in the news, and he firmly believed that you had done nothing to end up in this place.

“Good morning. How are you?”

“I’m just well, thanks! Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah, I did! Do you know what variation of gruel they’re feeding us today?” Jerome snorted at this. “Hey, Jerome. What’s up?”

“Oh, y’know, not much.”

“Sounds fun.”

-

Breakfast was, in fact, another variation of gruel. You had been given a choice between cinnamon and apple oatmeal, lazily slopped onto a tray before being shoved into your arms with a spoon.

You took a seat at an unoccupied table and began to eat and read— you were rereading Gatsby, now—until Jerome joined you.

“Hey, J,” you greeted him, not looking up from your book.

“Hey there, girlie,” he greets, nudging you when he sits down beside you.  “What’s the plan today?”

“They have me in group today. Something about having to ‘act like we’re making progress’,” you slightly mocked.

Jerome gasped. “Well, hey! Whadaya know? I’m in group today, too!” The possibility that you were not in the same group was slim to none; your proximity in age and the fact that both of your cells were on the same floor meant that in any group setting, you were bound to end up together.

“Have they put you in it before?” you wondered.

“Oh, yeah, once or twice,” he told you, taking another spoonful of oatmeal before continuing. “Don’t be nervous about it. All they do is sit you in a circle and give you pens and paper and have you talk about your feelings and why you killed people.” That was still a touchy subject. You’d never verbally say that you ‘killed’ a person; there was a difference between murder and self-defense, and there was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever be convinced they were the same. Jerome noticed a shift in your attitude. “Well, I mean, you never killed anyone. So I guess you won’t have to participate too much.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you agreed. A burly looking man the approached Jerome, eyeing you all the while.

“Jerome.” He looked up and rolled his eyes at the man.

“Can I help you with something, Greenwood?”

“Yeah. Just wondering when you’re gonna share your little lady friend with the rest of us.” He sat down opposite both of you. “She looks tasty.”

In shock, you couldn’t properly formulate a response to the man’s lewd comments, so while you sat there, eyes fixated on your oatmeal, Jerome took the liberty of speaking up on your behalf. “She’s off limits, pal. Don’t touch her,” he told him, grinning all the while. “Or I’ll flay you and feed you to the rats.”

“Oh, little J’s got himself a girlfriend now, huh? What, you gonna chop her up just like you chopped up your mommy?” Greenwood inched closer and closer to Jerome while taunting him, and your friend was getting visibly aggravated.

His fist clenched and he slammed it on the table. You put your hand over his forearm to draw his attention over to you instead. “Jerome. Stop,” you requested.

“What?” he asked you. “Why me? What about him?”

“Because I know you can be rational,” you told him, maintaining eye contact. “It’s not worth it. Don’t give him the reaction he wants.”

He let out a short breath and turned his attention back to Greenwood. “You know what? She’s right. You’re not worth my foot. Go back to playing with your little dolls, Greenwood,” he taunted, gesturing with his free hand. Greenwood snarled, but got up and walked away anyways. Jerome looked back to you. “Y’know, you’re starting to rub off on me. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll be a goody two-shoes just like you!” he joked, snickering. You just rolled your eyes, the ghost of a soft smile on your face.

“Hey,” you warned, “Don’t start getting soft. That’s my thing,” you shot back.

“Yeah, I know,” he smirked at you, catching your hand—the one that was on his forearm—in his. “Jeez, (Y/N), why are you so cold?” he asked you. His hands were exponentially warmer than yours, and you appreciated the heat warming up your own.

“It’s the middle of January and I have terrible circulation. Plus, no one in this place cares enough to turn the heat up.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he laughed. Then he was putting his head on top of yours, so you leaned your head onto his shoulder.

“What time is it?” You yawned. He told you that it was roughly eight-thirty. “Gross.” Jerome chuckled and gave a murmur of assent. He took his hand out of yours and put his arm around your shoulders instead.

“I’ll wake you up when they make us leave,” he assured you as you closed your eyes, thanking him. Then you were off to sleep again, catching up on all of the hours you had missed since you had been incarcerated. He grabbed your book off of the table and began reading it for himself. He kept one hand lightly trailing through your hand while the other was used to flip the pages until, at 9:20, the nurses came to inform the both of you that it was time for therapy.

-

If someone would’ve asked you what had been discussed in that session, you wouldn’t’ve had a clue. You sat next to your only friend in the place, of course, latching onto the only person you’d truly felt comfortable with since you’d been brought in. The two of you had passed notes back and forth the whole time, decorated with goofy little doodles and cartoons to entertain one another. When Jerome had cracked a joke to you following one of the other inmates’ comments, you could barely suppress your giggle, and you both had ended up making a bit of a scene.

“Jerome. (Y/N). Cut it out,” the therapist had reprimanded you. Jerome just gave her a nod, but you had verbally apologized and promised that it wouldn’t happen again.

A few seconds later, another note was passed onto your lap. SORRY FOR BEING A BAD INFLUENCE, it had read. You flipped it over to respond on the other side.

we balance each other out

like a negative and a positive

-

Two months later, and you were finally free to return to the rest of the world. You were overjoyed; you couldn’t wait to get back to your friends and family. You couldn’t wait to get back to school, something you never thought you’d say to yourself. You were also surprised at how well Jerome had responded when you’d told him that you were finally going home.

“You’ll write to me, right?” he asked you.

“Of course,” you verified.

“And visit?”

“I’ll try my damndest,” you promised.

He had seemed like he was making so much progress when you were around. At least, that’s what the nurses and therapists had all noted. For his own sake, they all secretly wished that you would keep coming back to help him out.

-

After another month, the whole city was erupted into chaos.

There had been some sort of gas leak at Arkham, followed by a breakout; your friend among the escapees. The next time you saw him had been on the T.V. in the midst of attempting to blow up a school bus full of cheerleaders from Gotham High.

You felt your heart break in your chest as you sat on your bed that morning watching the news. You’d really, truly let yourself believe that he wasn’t as bad of a person as the media had portrayed him, especially during his trial. You knew him firsthand! He was such a good friend to you, and was always watching your back. It was hard for you to believe that the boy who passed you notes in therapy and made you laugh all day was the same boy who had just kidnapped and murdered seven dock workers and attempted to blow up a bus full of cheerleaders the same age as him.

But, sadly, this was the reality that you lived in. I guess he really fooled me, huh, you thought to yourself.

Around noon that same day, while watching some documentary on Netflix and sending texts back and forth with one of your best friends, you heard a loud knocking outside of your window. “Holy shit!” you exclaimed, heart nearly leaping out of your chest. When your adrenaline rush finally slowed, you looked to see what had caused the noise, and—

“Holy shit!” Lo and behold; it was none other than Jerome Valeska. He grinned at you, waving emphatically.

“Open up, wouldya?” He spoke through the window. “Let’s catch up!”

You walked over to your windowsill but didn’t open the window, instead choosing to lock it. “Why should I let you into my house, Jerome? I’d be harboring a fugitive. That’s a crime. Just like kidnapping, murder, and arson,” you glared at him. “Why would you do that, J?” you asked, hurt evident in your eyes, even through the glass separating you.

“Let me in, (Y/N), I really wanna talk. You know I’d never hurt you.” You immediately believed him, having to consciously remind yourself that you might’ve been being led into a trap. That was, until he held up a fist and extended his pinky. “I pinky swear.” Damn, the boy knows I love me a good pinky swear. You gave up your resolve and cracked the window just enough to reach your own hand through, locking your fingers together before opening it the rest of the way.

“Okay. Talk,” you told him as he climbed through and stepped into your room. You took a seat on the edge of your bed, and he followed suit.

“This guy, Theo… he’s the one who broke us all out,” Jerome began to explain. “Kinda boring dude. But also kinda cool. He’s like the weird, rich uncle I never had,” he joked, making you crack a small smile. He smiled himself at that, nudging you playfully. “Anyways, he gives this whole speech about how we all have ‘vision’ and ‘talent’ and yada yada yada… So I know he gets me.

“Says he wants us to just go crazy, right? ‘Paint the town red’, other junk like that,” he continued. “The last guy who tried to leave, Sionis… He had him stabbed to death. Right in front of us all.” Your eyes shot up to his, shocked. “I can’t very well follow in his footsteps,” he told you.

“Oh, Jerome… That’s awful. I’m sorry.” You wrapped an arm around his side, implying that you’d mostly forgiven him for what he’d been doing recently. It’s not his fault, you reasoned, he’s scared for his life. “What if I call the cops so they can keep you safe from him? You don’t have to keep hurting people,” you offered.

“No, (Y/N), please don’t,” he begged. “They’ll just send me straight back to Arkham, I don’t wanna go back there, I hate that place—”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I understand. I won’t call anyone. Be safe, though? I mean… try as much as you can to not hurt anyone if you can help it.”

“I will. You were right, y’know. About balancing each other out. I think we make a good pair,” he told you, a smile that looked genuine on his face.

“Best friends,” you offered back. Then you gave him a solid hug, burying your face in his chest.

And you’d never have seen it, but that genuine smile suddenly became cunning and devious once more.  Gotcha...

#jerome #jerome valeska #jerome valeska imagine #jerome valeska x you #jerome valeska one shot #jerome valeska x reader #Gotham #jerome gotham #gotham on FOX #Cameron Monaghan #cameron monaghan imagine #cameron monaghan x reader #joker #the joker #valeska twins #gotham imagine #gotham x reader #i cant think of anymore #please dont let this flop #i just want love and validation

[shortmania]

If Olga had children, what do you imagine they would be like?

Oh, I created a batch of those years ago. This pic’s from 2014:

To create OC kids, there’s a lot of junk you have to consider. Mother, father, family, parenting styles, income, environment, and all the ways these things might come together to form a person. And thinking about Olga as a mother has always been… fucking hysterical, honestly. Like can you imagine? Can you stand it? I’ve only ever been able to think about it in short bursts because it’s too much for me. It’s too much. 

There’s also The Patakis to think about, and the ways Olga is likely to change as she gets older. Lucky for my sanity, I see her developing into a calmer, wiser, less chaotic sort of person. Less luckily, I don’t see this being a particularly significant development. It doesn’t matter if she’s 20 or 50, she’ll always be Olga Pataki and Olga Pataki is ridiculous. I don’t want to say she’d be a bad mom, but… she wouldn’t be a very good mom, either? She’d do some things right and other things very wrong. I’ll get into that, but lemme just do a quick rundown of the other basic considerations here: dad, income, and environment. 

I created a husband for Olga around the same time I made these kids, but I never developed him very far past a few basic traits and a general backstory. So he’s very basic, but he works. Charles was a good friend from Wellington College (in England) who shared most of her English classes, was the only one to maintain contact with her after she transferred to Bennington, came from money, raised by nannies, bit of a nervous wreck but hides it well because that’s how he was taught–to be pent up and twitchy. His fam wanted him to be a lawyer or business man but he quietly rebelled by becoming an English major instead, knowing full well how useless a degree it is and not caring at all. He eventually goes on to be a successful playwright, though, and Olga performs in all his plays. So, income would be decent verging on very decent, and their kids would grow up somewhere teeming with theatrical opportunities. Probably somewhere really crowded and loud and pretentious.  

Getting right into it then, from left to right, we have Angelique, Helena, and Genevieve, because Olga’s That Bitch. They attend(ed) a fancy private school because Olga’s That Bitch. They’re all very well-read, well-traveled and “well-behaved” because Olga’s That Bitch. But since Olga is, as specified, That Bitch, her kids didn’t escape her influence unscathed. 

Tbh, I do think any kids Olga would have would be Pretty Good Kids™– barring her having any with an absolute scumbag like she so easily could, but that’s another question entirely (I write fluff and comedy, so these kids reflect that) – but. Hmm. I see Mom!Olga being extremely affectionate, extremely emotional, and frequently selfish; generally hella overbearing; definitely stifling. And she wouldn’t want to, but I can’t see her not on some level perceiving her children as extensions of herself, and thus incapable of coping with anything less than Excellence on their parts. Not to say that I think she’d be a monster. I don’t think she’d force them into things or demand they win awards or anything like what Bob or Miriam did to her, but being in the same room as her with a less than impressive report card would be… uncomfortable. And that’d be on top of her always being in their business, looking over their shoulders, and constantly trying to spend quality time with them. Even when they don’t want to spend time with her, and so help any of them that say as much, because Olga’s incredibly sensitive. So layers upon layers of bad, there.

Some rebellion would be expected, then, so Genevieve gets into the goth punk scene. She’s more casual about it as an adult, but Olga doesn’t understand her. Helena uses comedy and misdirection as a defense and smiles very big and very nervous when her mom’s lip wobbles at her a little too expressively. Angelique straight up hides from her. She used to be sweeter, used to gently comfort her mom whenever she inadvertently did anything that upset her, but it took a toll on her and she can’t handle crying, or disappointment, or criticism, and she hates explaining herself so she avoids ever needing to. She’s a little emotionally underdeveloped, as a result. Not good for anyone to avoid conflict.

I also see Olga babying the hell out of her kids, so that would be another reason for Genevieve to rebel and Angelique to be Babey. In some ways, it’d be good, like they’d be generally very sweet kids, but I’m not sure how emotionally stable they’d be. Better than Olga, at least. Their methods of coping with heartbreak and life’s little every day tragedies would be… interesting, though. I sense a lot of Beethoven’s 5689574th and other general dramatics. Dancing, ice cream, black mourning veils being broken out over the smallest things. Either that or just complete repression.

Since you asked specifically how I imagined the kids, I’ll go ahead and give a messy little bio on each.

Genevieve: I wanted to play with the dichotomy of the Posh Gifted Nerd archetype and the Cold Badass Rebel archetype. Bob has an influence on her in that he’s something of a military enthusiast (I guess?), and I see Genevieve being lowkey into that as a kid, until she gets older and learns more about what goes on overseas and how much carbon emission hummers give off. Incorporates a lot of her old camouflage into her goth punk looks as a mocking salute to that now. Proudly rides on the outskirts of society in her down time, but she’s the most academically-driven out of her sisters and was absolutely Valedictorian. Reads a lot of books, a lot of Smart Person magazines, and listens to a wide range of music (classical, alternative, showtunes, punk, jazz). Creative. Loves history, but especially the Georgian, Victorian and Edwardian periods of Europe. Super into black pearls and lace. Bit nihilistic, but cares a lot about everything. Always gets into very interesting conversations with Helga, but Olga has no clue how to talk to her.

Angelique: I already kinda rambled about her, but she’s my All Natural Girl. No makeup, no piercings, had to be talked into using conditioner, almost gave up shampoo once (bad month for everyone). Shy, sweet, sensitive. Concerned with the world at large. She tries to be an academic like her family but she’s really not. She dresses and behaves like a perfect little nerd, but school doesn’t interest her, and she feels hella guilty and self-loathing about it. All she ever really wants to do is watch trashy made-for-TV dramas, cook/bake and moon hopelessly over guys. DIY af, buys nothing new. Is Babey. Soft clothes, soft eyes, a little messy and chaotic. Constant low-level thrum of anxiety. Rumpled button-ups and over-worn sweaters energy, forever jeans, rarely in skirts because skirts are stressful. That character you forget and underestimate but shocks you with insight from time to time. Will probably end up a baker or smthn. The oldest of the kids, actually, though she rarely acts like it.

Helena: That girl who raids your fridge, chews twelve sticks of gum and paints your nails whether you want her to or not. No sense of personal space, very touchy-feely, always wants to braid hair and thinks makeup on dudes is the greatest invention ever. Goes against the dress code at her school very brazenly but gets away with it because her work is excellent and the teachers adore her. Attitude in spades but she’s a sweetheart. Lots of friends. Loves her mom to death but tends to avoid her without quite meaning to. More Daddy’s girl, though she avoids him, too. Parents are no fun. Thinks her Aunt Helga and Uncle Arnold are the absolute shit, because why would we want to live in a world where she didn’t?

And that’s my take. There are lots different ways Olga With Kids could go down, but Intense and Stifling are pretty much the two things I see as being universal variables in the equation. So, yeah. Maybe a little less fluffy than originally intended, but Idk. These are old designs. Other drawings and further information on these kids here and here. Shown pic here. I hope this was helpful anyway. Have a good.

#Anonymous #asks #hey arnold #HEY ARNOLD! #lwts #ocs #olga #also! fun fact for anyone who cares enough to read the tags #angelique and genevieve have been plucking their unibrows since middle school #they give tips to ham so that's why his eyebrows are so tidy #yih #sorry to anyone who asks me things and has to wait weeks to get a reply #i'm not organized #and tumblr mobile sucks #it is 1 am #much love #edit: i just realized how hard i went off in this #my bad #ask me a simple question get a twenty page dissertation #this is my brand now #enjoy

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Take My Hand... | Carlton Drake x Reader (One-shot)

Words: 1908

Warning: Implied smut if you squint really hard, a load of cheesy fluffiness

A/N: Guess who’s been watching Crazy Rich Asians again and replaying the wedding scene?? I’m tempted to write a CRA AU but idk which character I should write it for. Carlton?? I have too much wips, I’m surprised I was able to do this one-shot.

It’s a modern AU where they all knew each other from high school/college and Carlton is still CEO of a company.

-

You stood with the rest of the bridesmaids, gripping on to your bouquet tightly. Eddie and Anne were finally getting married and you were the maid of honor while Dan was the best man. You could see Eddie shifting around nervously, fixing his tie as the music started playing. You gave him a reassuring smile and nodded over down the aisle where the double doors opened, revealing Anne in a beautiful white dress. Two little flower girls skipped in front of her, flying pink flower petals down the aisle, followed by a little boy carrying the black velvet box. Dan knelt to his level and took it from him, taking out the ring and handing it over to Eddie. He patted him on the back and stepped away. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat as Anne began to gracefully walk down the aisle, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed.

You grinned at the way the couple gazed at each other, happy that your best friends finally together. You turned away before tears could ruin your makeup, your eyes landing on your boyfriend in the front row. Eddie didn’t want him to be a groomsman, a decision that made your eyes roll, but it was his wedding and you had to live with it. Carlton ended up helping to pay for the reception, as a generous peace offering to Anne and to simply spite Eddie.

Carlton smiled in awe up at you, mouthing, “You’re so beautiful.”

“You, too,” you mouthed back, making him silently chuckle. He really looked good, though, sitting there with a white button shirt and tux and styled hair. It was different from his usual style of tracksuits under a suit jacket and a simple hairstyle.

You shook your head, distracting yourself with the pink and white flowers in your hands. The makeup was unfortunately not water-proof and you didn’t want it to run before Anne even reached the podium. Some people were already crying as the wedding proceeded, a few bridesmaids sniffling next to you. Due to their style, their vows had some comedic bantering that helped lightened the mood. Eddie even pointed a warning finger at everyone when they were asked if anyone objected, even pointing at Dan who raised his hands in surrender. Anne smacked Eddie’s arm and smiled.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Anne pulled Eddie by his tie and wrapped her other arm around his neck, making him stumble forward as she kissed him. You laughed, clapping with everyone else. Your eyes went back to Carlton who had been watching you to whole time. He sent you a wink and blew you a kiss that still made your heart flutter no matter how many times he’s done it.

-

Eddie had disapproved with the size of the reception, but Anne convinced him to go with it since they weren’t paying for it anyways. It was a time to celebrate their happiness with their friends and family after all. A band played on a built stage while Anne and Eddie danced with the kids, other guests dancing around them. The cake had already been cut and the champagne bottles open, so everyone was either having fun dancing or indulging themselves in dessert. You laughed as the kids continuously separated Eddie from Anne on the dance floor, thought he didn’t do much to protest.

Carlton came back with two cake slices, kissing you on the forehead. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

“The kids won’t let Eddie dance with Annie,” you said, laughing as one of the boys latched onto Eddie’s leg.

“Whose kid is this, serious?” Eddie shouted, pointing at the boy.

Anne waved you over to come dance with her. “Wanna join?” you asked Carlton.

“I don’t really dance,” he said, “but you can go on ahead.”

You pouted, making Carlton chuckle as he leaned over to kiss your lips. You sighed in defeat, taking one bite of the cake before joining Anne on the dance floor. Kids immediately swarmed you and Anne as the two of you spun around. One girl ran over to you and gave each of you a flower crown. Anne bent down first, allowing the girl to put it on her head and you followed suit, thanking her. She giggled and ran off to find her friends.

“Can you guys help me pry this koala off?” Eddie pleaded.

You and Anne exchanged a look and walked over to him. You knelt to the boy’s eye level, persuading him to let go. Then, an idea struck you as you thought of Carlton sitting by himself at your table. You whispered to the boy and his friends your plan, promising them more cake if they do it. They nodded enthusiastically, scurrying away to set the plan in motion.

Carlton ended up eating both pieces of the cake as he sat and watch you dance. He wasn’t much of a dancer, and it wasn’t like he had much opportunities to dance in the first place. It was always work for him and if he were to be invited to charity events, he would mostly walk around and mingle with prospective clients and business partners. He knew that you loved to dance, though. Waking up with your side of the bed empty, he would see you dancing around in the kitchen, singing along with your Spotify playlist. You would drag him closer and make him spin you around, which was the extent of his dancing abilities.

A grin automatically spread across his face as you spun around, your light pink dress fanning around you. That morning, you had to leave the hotel early to help Anne get ready for the wedding, so he couldn’t see you in that dress. He sat in the front row and was rendered speechless as you walked to the front, leading the rest of the bridesmaids. The way your (y/h/c) fell off your shoulders and down your back, the way the dress fitted perfectly around you and flowed around your feet as if you were floating. He couldn’t keep his eyes away from you.

You met Carlton’s eyes and smiled, turning to disappear into the growing crowd on the dance floor.

“Excuse me,” a small voice said next to him.

Carlton looked down and saw the same boy that was latched to Eddie. He smiled at him. “Hey, there, little buddy.”

“Princess (Y/n) said to give you this,” the boy said, holding up a pink flower crown and a rose with a note on it.

Carlton took them both, reading the note that was clearly in your handwriting. The boy had scurried off into the crowd as soon as his job was done.

“Meet me in the garden, my prince,” it read. “P.S. Yes, you do have to wear the flower crown.”

He chuckled, remembering the time you told him he looked like a Disney prince wearing a suit and had tried to convince him to dress up as Aladdin during Halloween. When he saw you in your Princess Jasmine costume, the two of you couldn’t make it to your friend’s costume party.

He got up and made his way outside, ducking away from the party and into the still night. The garden was well lit with solar powered lights lining the pathways and fairy lights strewn across the trees and around the gazebo where you waited. Petals were scattered on the stone pathway that led to the gazebo, a small set of speakers sitting on the steps next to your phone.

“You know, I should be the one making these surprise events,” Carlton said, drawing your attention away from the rest of the garden. He walked up to the gazebo and kissed your hand. “My princess, you’ve summoned me?”

“Yes, I have, my prince,” you said, playing along. You took the flower crown from his hand and placed on his head with a satisfied smirk. “Dance with me.”

“(Y/n/n)… ”

“It’s just us here, Car. Please,” you pleaded.

Carlton drooped his head as he thought it over. Although he was frowning, it was hard to take him seriously with that crown on his head and he really looked cute with it on.

“Okay, okay, just… don’t get mad when I step on your shoes or your dress, okay?” he said.

You grabbed his face and peppered it with kisses before turning and setting up the music on your phone. A string of melodic chords filled the gazebo as the music started. You led Carlton to the middle, wrapping your arms around his neck. He chuckled, almost nervously, as he fought the urge to look at his feet placement.

Wise men say… only fools rushed in… But I… can’t… help… falling in love… with… you…

He attentively placed his hands on your waist and drew you in closer. You decided to lead first until he got the hang of it, swaying side to side, but never breaking eye contact with him. You smiled as he grew more confident in his steps and allowed him to guide you around the gazebo. Your heart fluttered under his soft gaze, feeling so loved and adored as he admired how you look under the fairy lights.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered under his breath.

“I’m not,” you said, ducking your head.

He lifted your chin with his fingers. “You are. (Y/n), when I first saw you in that dress… seeing you down that aisle… It’s like I’ve fallen in love with you all over again.”

“Who knew the big CEO of Life Industries was a big sap? If Tony Stark heard you, he’d be gagging right now,” you teased.

Carlton rolled his eyes playfully. “Please, don’t bring up that billionaire playboy ever again.”

“And philanthropist, Mr. San Fran’s most eligible bachelor,” you added.

He sighed. “I don’t know why they keep saying I’m an eligible bachelor when I have you.”

“Maybe they think I’m not good enough for you.”

“Which I find ridiculous because it took me so long chasing after you and to have you notice me. You were just so intelligent and beautiful and funny, and I thought I wasn’t going to be good enough for you. Plus, you were friends with Eddie who hated me back in school. At least Anne was kind to me. She was the one that told me about you. I never thought you’d ever see me more than a friend.”

You laughed. “Well, back then I never really thought of being in a relationship. I had these goals set out before me and I felt that having a relationship will set things back. This was all coming from a place where the people I had been interested in hadn’t fully supported my goals and I felt discouraged. I never thought I’d find someone that would actually just… fit, you know, like a puzzle piece. It just felt right with you, but I was scared to rush things. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Well,” he paused to twirl you around, “You’re still my best friend, but more.”

“Yeah? You’re going to give me that soulmate speech?”

Carlton chuckled. “No, we both know it by heart, just by looking at each other.”

So, take my hand… take my whole life, too… for I… can’t… help… falling in love… with… you…

For I… can’t… help… falling in love… with… you…

#carlton drake x reader #Carlton Drake imagine #Riz Ahmed #venom 2018 #marvel #oneshot #Fluff #CRA reference

[booksviolinsandembroidery-moved]

20, 22, 28 and 23 for Jade and another fankid of your choice! ~ Fluffy🦆

20. List five things they like.

Jade:

1. The color black

2. Listening to music

3. Dueling

4. Drawing

5. Sweet, innocent people

Lane:

1. Plants/Herbology

2. Animals/Magical Creatures

3. Sweets

4. Their hair

5. Quiet places

22. Have they any interest in dating? Have they a crush on someone? How do you think this someone feel about them?

Jade: Jade is a strong punk bisexual icon so, yes she would totally go out with someone if they were interesting enough. I can’t really think of anyone she might have a crush on but she’d probably like someone as chaotic as her or a sweet fluffball of cuteness that she can protecc. Most people are scared to talk to her but Valerian Lee (@slytherin-puffskein) did have a crush on her for like a year and a half or something???? Idk but she 100% teased him about it when she found out. She was actually quite flattered.

Lane: Absolutely not. People confuse them and are much too complicated. They’d rather stick to the plants and animals that don’t talk.

23. Are they able to cast a Patronus? If yes, what animal does it represent?

Jade: Hmmmm I guess? She would definitely train as much as she needed to. Her dad Samuel was able to produce one during his time at Hogwarts and she wants to at least be able to do what he did when he was her age. I have no idea what it would be yet though... I’ll probably make a post about it when I decide.

Lane: They’re not as interested in learning the patronus charm as their sister. They might learn it later in life but a non-corporeal one is good enough for them.

28. Talk about their relationship with the other Fankids.

Jade: Jade feels responsible for Valerian Lee and will do anything she can to protect him. They also go through thunderstorms together since Val is scared of them and they trigger Jade’s PTSD. There’s a possibility she would be friends with Narciss Handoris (@sirfluffig) ? They’re both in Slytherin and he’s an extrovert so... @neonbluewaves mentioned that they thought Diego would be like an uncle to Neon’s kids so maybe Jade would talk to them???? I really don’t know. But Thibault is adorable and soft and in Slytherin so???? Idk she would probably want to protect the sweet theatre nerd 😂

Lane: Lane generally stays away from most people. The only person I could maybe see them talking to is Thibault Landon, mainly because their father, Diego, is extremely close with Thibault’s aunt and he’s really close with his family so maybe Lane and him would talk about creatures together?? Idk it’s a big maybe.

#hphm fankids #narciss handoris #thibault landon #valerian lee #all my kids are introverts except the newest one i havent named 😂 #I dont know many fankids so i stuck to the ones ive talked to the creators of??? #hhhh I hope this is okay 😓 #I need to name the one kid and then I’ll look into Jade’s patronus #there are just so many options I just kinda *shrugs* for Sam’s tbh 😂 #other people’s ocs #jade caplan gabehart #lane caplan gabehart

[softshelltaakos]

what’s up everybody! it’s time for part 2 of my taz graphic novel review.

part one covered (most of) my beef with the writing and storytelling choices. this part is gonna cover character designs!!! you should know going into this that my opinions are not positive. this post is also a lot less analytical in tone than part 1, because art is not my forte.

disclaimer: i love the mcelroys. i truly do. taz has gotten me through some very difficult stuff and i have a tattoo. all this to say i’m not doing this because i hate them or because i like hating things. if you feel the need to message me about how i am overreacting, specifically to green taako, or about how i should just calm down and ignore it, or about how it’s sad that i’m getting so worked up instead of just enjoying the show, i’ve heard it and i don’t care. you will not be taken seriously. save yourself the energy.

there are spoilers for the graphic novel under the cut.

alright. i’m getting the elephant in the room out of the way first because it’s the most important thing to address, and once it’s out of my system i’ll feel better goofing on the rest of the designs. as i mentioned in the disclaimer: Green Taako Is Bad.

[ID: a panel focusing on taako. he’s skinny and minty green with chin-length light blonde hair and a big, pointy nose.]

now, a lot of people have made posts about this before, and i’m not saying anything new about it by any means. i’m also not the most equipped person to talk about why green taako is bad, because i’m a white gentile (i’ve heard conflicting opinions on whether or not green taako is antisemitic, but it feels remiss not to mention that there’s been discussion) and therefore not part of any groups affected by this whole debacle, but in short: when pressed for more diversity, specifically in taako’s case as a pretty large chunk of his arc involves literally inventing a mexican cultural food (fun note: that’s never mentioned in this book,) carey pietsch decided he should be green and the mcelroys were down with it. this is not an issue that cropped up when this design was released; it was something that there was already a ton of discourse surrounding, and it should never have gotten concepts drawn, let alone made it to publish.

this article by natt cuesta has been linked before on the subject, and i think it’s a good, concise explanation of why green taako is bad as well as why aracial characters in general are bad. this is a racist design.

now that we’ve gotten those ethical ramifications out of the way... i’m sorry, but it’s an ugly design, lmao. he looks like a palette-swapped version of pearl from steven universe with less character. the ONLY thing about this design that i like is the prominent lower lashes, if only because they’re the only thing that keeps him from looking entirely generic. because, like, y’all, when has anything about taako been generic?

[ID: a panel focusing on magnus. he’s a muscular fair-skinned man with auburn hair, a bushy beard, and a scar over his left eye.]

generic is a word that’s going to come up a lot over the course of this review, because i genuinely can’t think of a more apt descriptor for pietsch’s designs. it feels like she went with the lowest common denominator of every character’s design, a synthesis of all of the most popular (and most boring) ones, except in instances where that would lend any personality to a character’s design. magnus fits what brief description we’re given in the podcast: auburn hair. beard. big. and i guess that’s all you need?

i understand that by appealing to the most common and basic designs for these characters you’re inviting a lot less ire than you might by going with something more individual, so i get the motivation behind it -- or i would, if her designs hadn’t always been about this dull. but it’s bizarre to me that in a story as unique as the balance campaign, we ended up with the most basic ass Fantasy Hero lookin’ dude in the world as one of our protagonists.

i just really don’t have a lot to say about this. i’m just bored by it.

[ID: a panel of merle. he has medium-dark skin with a smooth white bun and beard.]

merle is simultaneously the design i like most out of the boys and the one that throws me the most, because i feel like he’s the most out on a limb one. which... oof. most merle designs i see give him a floral motif (i guess he has a few petals in his hair, maybe?) and big coke-bottle glasses, and i miss those things with this design, but at least it doesn’t totally feel like pietsch threw every merle she could get her hands on into a blender and poured it out on a page, although honestly, that might have been more satisfying. people do some really fun shit with their merle designs, but again, he’s. generic.

as the cuesta article mentions, with how much of an issue it was to get any of the boys to be poc in the first place and in conjunction with minty up there, this design also feels like tokenism -- an appeasement rather than an honest attempt at diversity or god forbid because the artist actually headcanons merle as a person of color. personally, i wish that she’d gone a step beyond re-coloring his skin and idk given him a natural hairstyle or something. he still feels very much like a recolor to me rather than a character who was designed as a person of color from the beginning.

i feel like he looks more like a cleric than he looks like a merle, which i feel like is pretty contradictory to who merle is.

[ID: a cutaway showing griffin, a white man with brown hair and glasses wearing a collared shirt.]

i’ve said before that it feels a little odd to talk about her design of a real person, so i’ll keep this brief, but... you know how every drawing of a basic white dude looks a little bit like griffin mcelroy? you know how that one arthur character looks a little bit like griffin mcelroy? you know how everyone is constantly messaging mysillycomics about how her avatar looks like griffin mcelroy?

how did carey pietsch manage to actively attempt to draw griffin mcelroy and miss the mark? it boggles the mind. he doesn’t not look like griffin, i guess, but he doesn’t look like griffin, either. i don’t know, man

[ID: a generic gerblin. he has yellowy-green skin, slight tusks or fangs, and weird, nubby little horn-type things.]

i hate these gerblins. they are ugly. next

[ID: two images of klaarg/g’nash. he’s a bugbear with brown fur and yellow eyes as well as a mouth full of pointy teeth. in the first image he looks pissed off; in the second he’s starry-eyed and delighted.]

klaarg is probably my favorite design in the book, and that’s just because he looks like a cute dog for most of the time he’s on the page. he’s fluffy and i love klaarg anyway, so like. did not take a lot to reach this mark. especially considering how i feel about most of the other designs lmfao

i do definitely think he keeps up the trend of looking generic, though.

[ID: an image of barry bluejeans. he looks like tom arnold, kind of; he’s square-jawed and white with thick-rimmed glasses. he also has a light brown mullet.]

i hate this. i hate the mullet. i’m sorry, y’all, i really, truly, cannot stand the mullet. i don’t feel like barry has mullet energy. i feel like it’s too powerful a move for him. it wouldn’t be a good move, mind you, but it would be a big one. i don’t know y’all it’s just bad

[ID: an image of killian. she’s a green-skinned orc woman with prominent eyelashes, eyebrows, and tusks, and straight brown hair.]

i can’t have been the only one who was hoping for a badass, visibly muscular, maybe even butch killian design, right? that wasn’t just me being a big old lesbian, that’s a pretty common theme of killian designs? i guess kudos for going out on a limb again, but then, like, take the kudos back for going out on the most boring limb possible again. i could hang with the face if her hair wasn’t so boring, but it’s... it’s so boring

[ID: an image of magic brian. he’s a drow with long white hair and an oblong face and oddly shaped nose.]

for how many of her designs are syntheses of popular ones, i..... don’t understand how this happened. i don’t understand how whimiscal and flamboyant magic brian who’s often drawn as taako-but-a-goth-dark-elf ended up looking like this. he looks like he used to play football and got his nose busted up and peaked in fantasy high school. he looks like the first quarter of a monster factory video where the thing’s just ugly but doesn’t have a personality or any endearing traits yet. he didn’t have to be the goth twink we all know he is but what.......... is this

[ID: an image of gundren rockseeker/bogard. he’s a light-skinned dwarf with dark long hair and a matching beard.]

..........listen i know they’re cousins and distant cousins at that but all of merle’s cousins are light-skinned and, like, not to say that that can’t happen but having them be anywhere near merle’s skin tone would’ve been such an easy way to help bolster the obviously inaccurate idea that this is a work concerned with diverse character designs, or rather to help ppl claim it was being bolstered, and yet

[ID: avi, a fair-skinned man with long dark hair kept up in a ponytail and slight scruff on his face.]

i feel like maybe avi is intended to be east asian so i think at this point that brings the count up to a whole two characters of color. we’re almost done with the book. cool. he’s cute, i guess, but guess what word i’m about to say again (it’s generic)

[ID: a panel of several unnamed cameo characters. from right to left: carey fangbattle, a light blue dragonborn; brad bradson, a green orc man with a long brown ponytail; and presumably lucas miller, a tan human with glasses and dark hair.]

ok. deep breaths.

first off, there’s another panel w these three as well as boyland, who looks fine, but i didn’t grab that one bc it’s harder to make out detail. carey is cute. brad is fine.

i assume the third guy is lucas miller because i’m not entirely sure who else he would be, and... oof! as you may know i can’t stand lucas miller, which has nothing to do with his necromancy or nerdiness and everything to do with the various human rights violations he commits in the small time he’s got focus as well as the fact that he’s got a theoretical redemption arc that’s not actually an arc so much as us being told he’s better now. lucas is an entitled jackass who repeatedly uses other people’s bodies and minds without their consent, from the obvious offense of using the bugbears as brainwashed chore-doers (read: slaves) to the less-oft discussed dragging of noelle and others out of the astral plane into robot bodies, again to do his chores for him. because of this, it has always sat very uncomfortably with me when people make lucas a poc, because everything about him screams Shitty White Nerd Boy to me. it sits extra uncomfortably coming from carey pietsch, given how white all of her other designs are.

it’s a little hard to tell because i took all these pics with my phone camera in my room’s lighting so they’re not super high fidelity or anything, but pietsch’s lucas is noticeably darker than any other character we’ve seen so far save merle. maybe he’s just a white guy with a tan, but all the same, it strikes me as incredibly skeevy to have one of so few characters of color be this fucking guy.

[ID: johann, a black man with an oblong face and textured dark hair.]

johann’s design is fine, although this is a similar face shape to that brian from earlier and i just. i don’t. understand it. it’s not especially interesting, but hey, at least he’s not another generic white guy.

that being said, as i mentioned in part 1 of this review, johann’s role is severely cut in this -- he’s reduced to three panels, when in the show itself he’s the one who escorts the boys to the voidfish’s chamber and inoculates them. as i mentioned in that post i understand that they shifted it some to give lucretia a more prominent entrance, but as i also mentioned in that post, they should have compensated for that. three panels.

johann is not a character with a great deal of screentime as it is, but he’s a character with a major impact. he is the reason story and song happens. his song serves as a direct foil to john’s nihilistic conversion of his own home plane into the hunger. the fact that he’s been reduced to three panels with little to no characterization at this point, especially in conjunction with the fact that he’s one of very few poc, makes me really, really uncomfortable. avi is in more panels in this book than johann is, and while i love avi and as i said i am parsing him as an asian dude, he’s also still light-skinned enough and the style is nondescript enough that there are definitely people who will parse him as white, and also, avi’s role in the story is not as big as johann’s.

it doesn’t sit right with me.

[ID: an image of davenport, a fair-skinned man with a big red mustache and slicked back red hair.]

ginger davenport with a big mustache. groundbreaking.

[ID: an image of lucretia, a slender black woman with short white hair dressed in blue layers.]

and finally, lucretia. now, i’m biased, and it’s hard for me to see a lucretia design i don’t like. i also think that this is, compared to a lot of the others at least, one of the more interesting designs in the book, at least as far as her clothes go. it’s not a long robe that would be hard to move in, and i appreciate that -- it strikes me as a pretty practical outfit while also being ornamental and wizard-y. and she’s pretty, and she’s not whitewashed, and that’s all great. i like her earrings.

all that being said, i feel like it’s not enough. luc’s hair continues a theme with merle’s and johann’s (as well as the preview we’ve seen of angus,) which is that it strikes me as very low-effort on pietsch’s part. it’s short and it’s definitely not straight, but it doesn’t feel to me like it had as much thought put into it as, say, minty green taako’s hair. we could’ve had a lucretia with a big beautiful afro, or long box braids, or so many other natural hairstyles; we got this. it’s not bad, but i do think it’s disappointing. without going looking for it and without being a person who reads a great deal about character design, i’ve seen a fair amount of discussion from black women (artists, writers, and none of the above) about the portrayal of black women as it pertains to their hair. they’re never designed to be as feminine as their white counterparts. their hair is never treated with the same amount of detail or respect as their white counterparts. it’s short, maybe curly if you’re lucky.

i’m gonna circle back quickly to killian’s hair. it’s long and smooth and kept down, despite the fact that killian is an action-oriented women and might not want it to be in her face all the time -- it could have at least been braided or in a bun. it could’ve been short! and that would’ve made sense. and i don’t mean to say that lucretia couldn’t have short hair, but she’s a very elegant woman whose dress is described as intricate. she wears business regalia. she could have any number of hairstyles, from something elaborate to something simple but more out-of-the-box than this, but she doesn’t. i found this on a quick hunt through my ref tag -- it’s a tutorial for drawing black folks with just a small selection of interesting things you can do with afrotextured hair. these resources aren’t hard to find! and i’m doing this for fun -- carey pietsch is a professional artist who was paid for these designs. if she’d put in more than the bare minimum effort, we could’ve had some really interesting shit going on, but she didn’t.

and that’s the core of the issue here. i truly do not feel like pietsch put the same amount of care into the designs for the few characters of color we see as she did into the white ones, and that’s upsetting and emblematic of a larger problem in the work: neither pietsch nor the mcelroys put in very much care at all for the fans of color who spoke up and asked for representation.i know i said i was getting taako out of the way first so the majority of the post could be goof-heavy, but goddamn, y’all, it’s hard to goof about when it’s so blatantly shitty. pietsch’s designs are boring at best and racist at worst, not to mention conspicuously lacking in anyone who is not skinny, muscular, or a dwarf. people have praised this thing so uncritically, including people whose opinions i generally really respect, as if the fact that the mcelroys signing off on green taako made it above reproach.

it didn’t, by the way. there’s no such thing as an unproblematic fav, because everybody fucks something up now and then, but even then, this is a pretty egregious fuck-up! and it was willful!

i’m not saying y’all need to burn your copies of the gn or stop listening to the mcelroys entirely or anything of the sort -- you may remember the disclaimer at the top of the post where i say i really, really love them, and more specifically, i really love taz: balance. but i am BEGGING YOU to think critically about their work. good, good boys can do bad, bad things. white people can produce work that’s racist even if they’re gay women. it’s not mean to critique the boys and it’s not homophobic (or god forbid reverse racist, which is still not a real thing) to critique carey.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ the real kicker of this whole thing for me is that there’s a small fanart gallery in the back of the book. most of them aren’t labeled with the artist’s handles, just their names, but there are some truly beautiful pieces featuring diverse designs -- galacticjonah and milkychai both have beautiful latino taakos featured! galacticjonah’s is fat, too! but even after the backlash against green taako, even aside from that being the design that people are going to accept as canonical, there are pieces in the gallery of green taako, as if doubling down on it was the right move.

and by the way, yeah, i’ve read griffin’s apology. but i thought we all learned in kindergarten that an apology doesn’t count if you don’t act on it.

#prim.txt #tazposting #tazmeta #taz: balance #taz balance #taz graphic novel

[incognitowetrust]

Which canon characters would you ship ocs with?

Hmmm… good question… 

I kinda rule out character who already is canonically in a relationship, so I certainly don’t ship any of my OCs with Goku, Vegeta, etc… 

For this, because I like DBX2 and because I’m bad at remembering long lists of things when I need to, I’m gonna be thinking of the instructors/characters in dat game. 

Honestly, Gelato is kinda too shy to flirt much, and would be too embarrassed to act on much, but… it’s not hard for him to find strong people attractive. RIP, Gelato, died from too many boners from the ridiculous amount of strong characters in the series, pffff. 

Well, I guess Patty Zinger might have a soft spot for Tien, and she’d probably wanna baby Chiaotzu a little. On my long list of ideas-I-have-but-will-probably-never-get-around-to I kinda wanted to draw Chiaotzu wearing a sweater she made and her just being like “well don’t you look handsome” like a friggin’ mom. And she’d probably try bringing meals to Tien as encouragement and fuel for training. Pat is fluffy as fuck. 

A character I have a lot of love for is Android 16, and so maybe he’d be a good character for me to ship somebody with. Unfortunately I do have a problem of not having enough proper “content” out of my characters, and I also have MORE characters still in the making, and sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s a more significant OC vs much more background characters. I suppose Petri might be good to ship with 16, because she was created in a lab, and so they both got that in common… hnnnn I need to draw her again like everyone else. 

Alcquee is originally from Suringa (her backstory has shifted around a bit over time, but making her from the planet Gelato grew up on is a good way to “link” her in with other OCs of mine) but ends up travelling around a bit, and because she has a pretty confident personality, I can imagine her talking flirty to a lot of characters, so that might make her more “shippable” than some of my other OCs. She acknowledges the series is full of characters with perfectly sculpted asses, she wants to tap ‘em. xD … and because on Suringa she kinda seen as a sort of witch, she might enjoy getting attention from people who aren’t so familiar with her reputations on her home planet. Lol, give her any single guy, she’s gonna test the waters. She might have fun trying to tease and work up Nappa or Raditz. Or trying to get some kind of reaction from Hit, even though he’s deadly, she’s never been scared of much because she can regenerate. 

Majin Ume is awkward as fuck when it comes to “romance”, she doesn’t have the best understanding of personal space, and has kinda a intense personality, being sometimes immature, and high-energy. If she sees a guy she likes she might just follow him around and stare intensely at him… uh… be patient with her, she’s trying. At first she could come off as creepy, clingy, and weird, but hey, anyone willing to be patient and understanding of her will get their own personal squishy body guard. She could certainly get along with Majin Buu, but idk if they’d be something I’d ship, because I feel like she needs someone who can balance out her crazy a little more, you know, someone who can bounce off her in healthy ways and not encourage her more mischievous behaviors. She might like Captain Ginyu, because he’s big, and purple, likes sweets, and is very entertaining… Captain Ginyu is Captain Ginyu, he’s hard not to love. Or maybe she’d like Yamcha just because she’d enjoy seeing his reactions to if she’d do shit like jump out of a bush and surprise/startle him… also, Yamcha has the floofy hair, and is dorky. 

Well… I guess that’s kinda all I really got to say. I hope that at least this mighta given some kind of looks into a few of my characters. 

#asks #shipping #oc x canon #idk m'dudes #Patty is sweet #Alcquee is sassy #and Ume is a little gremlin

[harperonni]

Mistakes were made

Coco (Modern AU) Drabble Pairings: Felipe x Valeria (Oc x canon) as well as some implied Imector and Oscar X Leonor

Also up over on AO3 HERE   “I knew it was a mistake to get the twins matching clothes.” Valeria eyes him with a smirk. “That’s big talk from the guy who wears the exact same clothes as his gemelo nearly every day.” Notes: Idk I was just really in the mood to draw some family fluff tbh and I saw this prompt and immediately thought of this aaaaaaaaa Hope you guys enjoy it!

Valeria let a muffled groan break past her lips.

“We wrote their name’s on the tags, right?” She asked, hand coming away from massaging her temple to brush back a stray curl which almost instantly sprung back again. The small woman huffed, tucking it more carefully behind her ear and hovering a hand close for a moment. After a beat she fold her arms and tilt her head toward her husband, hunched beside her over the changing table. Felipe glanced helplessly between her and then the two babies snuggled together on the changing table, clad in identical pyjamas. Not really snuggled, but close enough that they had been brushing their fingers against each other about an hour ago, when they had been far more awake. But the quickly forming routine was catching up to them now, and they were exhausted after a long day of, well… Crying, eating and sleeping. Felipe bit the inside of his lip, glancing between them. He eyed the identical clothes, coloured in soft blue with white polka dots, trying to ignore the small knot creeping its way through his stomach. “Sí.” He answered, albeit very hesitantly. “And we made sure they’re wearing the right outfits!” Valeria continued, and if Felipe had wanted to, he could have sworn he could pick up an uncertain waver in her confident tone. “I…” He starts, before sighing, shoulders slumping a little. He shrugs, “Sí…” “Right, so it’s not all that bad!” Valeria doesn’t dare raise her voice too much louder, nothing about a gentle indoor voice. She bumps her hip against his and he lifts himself up slowly as she grins, hands settling on her waist as she puffs her chest out just a tiny bit. “We’ve been careful, we haven't accidentally switched them or anything, and they’re too small to even lift their heads up, let alone swap themselves over.” She huffs at the last part, hands sliding down to her side as she shuffles a little closer to the girls. On the left, one is hardly awake, eyelids fluttering as her fingers flex in gentle motions, one hand just about resting against her twin’s face. The other has her eyes a little more opened, and she lazily presses her knuckles into her mouth. She keeps looking between her parents, clueless to their currant dilemma. Felipe’s gaze flickers to her head and he carefully reaches forward to brush down his daughters hair. At least, what little of it there was, anyway.  The small curls were fluffy against his calloused fingertips and a small smile worked it’s was across his lips. She made a small noise, the corner of her mouth working to form a smile around her knuckle. Her eyelids start drooping a little more as he brushes his thumb against her head a few more times. He carefully pulls away as he feels Valeria lean into him a bit more, shoulder pressed into his arm and her hand bumping against his his leg trying to find his own hand. He slides his hand against hers, his warm palm pressing against her cold fingers. He rubs his thumb across her knuckles as hers brushes against his wedding ring.

Finally, Felipe lets out a small noise. “I knew it was a mistake to get the twins matching clothes.”

Valeria eyes him with a smirk. “That’s big talk from the guy who wears the exact same clothes as his gemelo nearly every day.” “But you know i’m me!” He argues. He continues, a bit quieter than before “And I know I’m me, for that matter…” Valeria snorts slightly at that. He huffs, voice raising a touch once again as he shakes his head. “They’re not even a year old, so how would they know yet?” Her hand squeezes his “Voice down, por favor.” She scolds, voice at the same level as his. “We’re trying to get them to sleep, remember?” Both glance back down at the twin girls, who have hardly stirred. They’re not completely asleep, but they’re not any more awake. Thankfully. If one woke up and made a loud enough fuss, the other would surely follow. Felipe hums slightly, head leaning more onto Valeria’s. His glasses rose a bit, the rim pushed up by Valeria’s messy hair. A few curls invaded his vision but it was something he could ignore for now. His hand slid out of hers to rest on her hip, pulling her closer. “They… Do look cute in those clothes though.” “Like I said they would.” Felipe shakes his head with a gentle eye roll. “I just wish we could tell which was which. You know, on sight.” He knew it wouldn’t remain a huge problem. He was certain they put the right twin in the right labelled clothes. But the chance to rile his wife up a little was there, and he couldn’t resist the chance of possibly flustering her. Valeria is quiet for a moment. Felipe wonders if she’ll react at all and he pulls away to catch a glimpse of her expression, determine what could be feeling. The last thing he’d want would be be to actually upset her over this. He feels his shoulders loosen when he catches her gaze, her darkened cheeks puffed out in a pout as her brows furrow. She twists her head away when she locks eyes with him. He waits, patiently waiting for the reaction. She finally grumbles, tilting her head back slightly as her eyes scrunch shut in defeat. “Ugh…” She lets out, composing herself to look toward him. He smirks just the tiniest bit and she pauses, cheeks reddening more as she glances away. “Okay, yeah-” She admits, “-maybe I should’ve gotten different colours, or something… I guess that would’ve made it easier.” The last part trails into a defeated grumble that Felipe leans into catch, smirk widening a little more. “You guess?” He teases, bumping his shoulder against hers. Her heads turns to his in a quick snap, curls bouncing as she moves. “Don’t sass me, cariño.” She struggles to hold the intimidating act. She’s nearly on her tiptoes trying to be on level with him as the corners of her lips attempt to twitch into a smile. “I’ll steal all the covers tonight, and that is not an empty threat.” Felipe grins. He squints at her and leans down a touch, nose almost brushing hers. He can feel his cheeks warming as she blinks at him, dark eyes catching the light yellow glimmer of the night lamp on the desk close by. “Well, I know for a fact it’s your night to look after the girls when start crying.” He tilts his head, “You’ll have to let go of the covers eventually.” Valeria smirks, lifting her head up a touch  before turning away with a theatrical sigh, pressing a hand to her heart. “I suppose your right.” She sighs, shaking her head mournfully. “It’s not like I could drag the covers with me or anything crazy like that.” Her smirk returns as she opens her eyes to glance at him from the side. “That would be crazy, ¿verdad?” She turns her head to wink at him and the tall man feels heat crawl across his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He falters as he tries to reply, smiling. “A-Aye, ¡muy loco!” He chuckles breathlessly. Valeria lets out a small snort, giggling as she fold her arms across her chest, shoulders shaking.

Both fallen silent, stiffen at the sound of a whine. Felipe glances toward the twins, and panics as his gaze sweeps across the the girl on the right, face scrunched and lip quivering in warning. He carefully scoops her up, mindful of the other girl still breathing steadily on the table. She shifts but other wise doesn’t stir even as Valeria moves to lift her up as well. He shift’s the baby in his arms to support her head. “Oh, mija. What’s wrong?” He coos. She doesn’t cry, but continues to wriggle her arms, face scrunched up grumpily. “I think we just need to get them to bed…” Valeria murmurs, not long afterwards she has to fight back a yawn. She calmly rocks the baby in her arms, glancing down to her and then to the baby still fussing in Felipe’s hold, though she seemed to be tiring back into slower movements. “Violeta is always fussy before bed, right?” “Ovidia can be too.” Felipe reminds her. Valeria hums thoughtfully. “I suppose so…” She watches Felipe lean in to press a quick kiss the forehead of the fussing baby, murmuring to her quietly. She frowns, glancing between them.   “Are you holding Ovidia or Violeta?” She wonders. Felipe blinks up at her. He glances back at the calming baby, who’s quickly gone back to sucking her knuckles in a drowsy state, then back to Valeria with a frown. “I’m… almost certain It’s Ovi.” His gaze flickers toward the floor in thought. Thinking back to when they were changing the girls for bed, make sure they were fed, changed, clean… It had become a bit more of a blur, but he was sure Ovidia had always been on the right... “Almost certain?” The short woman parrots, quirking a brow at him. Felipe shoots her a playful glare before nodding firmly. “Certain.” Valeria hummed a small tune as she brought her daughter closer to her chest, resting the baby’s head on her shoulder as she walked closer to Felipe. Valeria her hand in a up motion and Felipe blinks before realisation hits him and he gently lifts the baby in his arms.  Valeria leaned in, reaching her free hand over to check the tag on the back of the pyjama top. She smiled, pulling back and wrapping both arms back around her baby. “Yup, you’ve got Ovidia there.” Felipe smiles, watching as Valeria began to move toward the other side of the room, where the girls white and beige cribs were set up. Valeria set Violeta down into the white crib, shifting her to make sure she was comfortable and pushing a few of her soft toys about. Felipe followed lowering Ovidia into the beige crib, glancing at the frayed images on the headboard. This crib had originally been Coco’s when she had been a baby, and the other had been a gift from Valeria’s twin hermano, Alejandro. Once they were tucked in, sleeping soundly, Valeria flicked the lamp off as Felipe shuffled toward the doorway, blindly reaching for the door handle in the darkness, guided by the distant light of their bedroom across the hall. Valeria bumped into his shoulder with a huff as they left, pinching the edge of his tank top to help guide her out the dark room. Felipe waited for her leave the room, and make her way across toward their room before he slowly inched the door closed, wincing at the slight creek the hinge briefly made before a quick click confirmed it was shut. He’d checked the baby monitor earlier, just before they’d been setting the girls up for bed. They could leave their door and the girls door open, in theory, but he didn’t want to risk Pepita finding her way in and accidentally waking the girls up. He hovered near the door for a moment, leaning close to the wooden frame. Quiet followed, other than muffled murmurs from Santiago and Jorge’s room next door, where Oscar and Leonor were probably tucking the two boys in for the night. He smiled to himself, retreating back to his and Valeria’s room, careful of any floorboards that could creek too loudly. He closed the door behind him, watching as Valeria shifted from her place already snuggled up, blinking up at him blearily through her already messy hair as her face poked out from the covers. She was clearly not far off from falling asleep then and there if he hadn’t walked in. He smiled as she blinked at him again. “¿Todo bien?” She slurred a little, tiredness seeping into her voice. “Sí, our niñas are asleep.” He told her, voice levelling from a whisper as he walked around to climb into bed with her. He noted the lamp on his bedside was the only one on still as he shifted into a comfortable sitting position, reaching behind him to push up a pillow to support his back. Valeria murmured and rolled over onto her back, pushing herself back up onto her pillow so her head rest in it. He watched as she blinked blearily up at the ceiling, hands folded over her stomach and hair tucked around and underneath her head. He reaches over and pulls his book out from under the lamp, shifting once again in his space to be comfortable. He opened his book, not really reading any of the words yet. He glanced toward Valeria, who was still frowning at the ceiling. His eyes scanned over the page one more time before she spoke.

“It’s… Kind of weird.” “Hm?” He replies.

“You’d think since we’re both twins we’d be, I don’t know, a bit more prepared for this?” He looks over at her to find her head turned toward him, frown still present. “But I guess being a kid, a twin, isn’t the same as raising them...” She mumbles, eyes flicking to the end of the bed before she rolled onto her side, propping her head up in one hand. “Maybe we’ll have some more understanding.” He muses, “But… You know.” He shrugs. She nods, eyelids closing as she hums. With her eyes half open, she runs her hand against the pillow, fingers swaying loosely against the fabric. Felipe gently closes his book, knowing the bookmark will still hold the place and rests a bit more onto his side, facing Valeria. “What are you thinking about, amada?” He asks quietly, curious. Valeria smiles as her hand slows. She blinks a few times, eyes flickering between small spaces on the bed sheet between them. “Just thinking about… When me and Alejandro were little, It was hard to tell us apart. When we were really small, that is…  Especially since papá insisted on matching outfits…” She snorted gently. “Then he had the audacity to grow taller than me.” She rolled her eyes, scoffing in fake scorn. Her gaze softened and she glanced back up toward Felipe. He nod, a wider smile forming on his own lips as he reminisced a little as well. “I think matching clothes were our mamá’s idea,” He hums, thoughtful. “but then me and Oscar just never really stopped, even when we were allowed to get clothes for ourselves. Guess it just became habit.” He shrugged. “Do you think our niñas will be like that?” Valeria asked, a little suddenly. Felipe blinked over at her, confused. “Like what?” “Well, I just mean…” She waved a hand in his direction, “Like-” She waved a bit more, shoulder shrugging. “You know, you and Oscar.”  She waved her hand back at herself before it slumped against their side. “Like me and Alejandro. You know, close?” Felipe laughed, “Aye, I’m sure they will. They’re twins after all…” Valeria nods, gazing off a little before stretching her arms up high above her head with a yawn. Something pops in her joints and Felipe visibly winces as Valeria groans. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.” He grimaces. She smirks. “Do this?” She asks as slowly bringing her hands together, wiggling her fingers ominously. Felipe whines loudly, bringing his hands to his ears in a hurry, nearly throwing his book across the bed. “No, no no no! Don’t!” He brings his hands away when Valeria giggles, hands falling down as she shakes with quiet laughter.

“I won’t!” She laughs breathlessly. “I’m not going to I promise.” She rolls in a little, arms tucking under the pillow to huddle it closer to her face, eyes closing. He reaches for his book (which had fallen near his knee) and sends her a miffed look, which softens a touch as she snuggles into the pillow. “Mm… I’m tired.” She mumbles. “Do you want me to turn my lamp off?” He asks, leaning a little toward the lamp just in case, but she shakes her head weakly. “No, no it’s okay. I’m just gonna lie down a bit. I don’t mind if you keep reading.” He leans in, using his elbow to prop himself up as he kisses her forehead. “Okay, If you say so, mi amada.” “I do say so.” She mumbles, smiling a little despite her near-asleep state. “Let me know if you change your mind.” Felipe settles back into his reading position and Valeria hums a small  “Mmm…” in response.

It couldn’t be more than five minutes into the book, a good ten pages in, Valeria’s voice croaks up beside him again. “Felipe…?” “Hm?” His eyes stay on the page. “I think I’m falling asleep, so I’m gonna say goodnight.” He smiles, glancing down toward her. “Are you sure? You look rather awake to me.”  Valeria squints at him, nose wrinkling as she eyes him tiredly from her curled up position. She tugs the covers in his area over in a warning. “I will steal the covers. Don’t test me, esposo.” “I wouldn’t dare, te lo prometo.” He bookmarks his page and sets it down on the side. “You don’t have go to bed if you’re not…” Valeria cuts herself off with a yawn and Felipe fights one down to speak. “I’m tired as well, don;t worry.” His own sentence finally trails into a yawn he sighs, briefly licking his dry lips as he folds his glasses down on the bedside table. He fumbles with the lamp switch, squinting against the light. The button clicks and the light shuts off, a faint yellow residue from the lamps light simmers into the dark as he shuffles himself deeper into the bed and curls himself closer to Valeria. She murmurs as he wriggles further under the covers, lazily moving to cuddle herself against him, head tucked against his chest as he pulls the covers further over the both of them. Her foot brushes his leg as he leans in to kiss her nose. Valeria breathes against him, lifting her hands up to cups his cheeks and pull him into another brief kiss, giggling as his moustache brushes her upper lip. He tilts his head to kiss her again, their teeth accidentally clicking as they both lean too deep and too quick. She giggles, settling to press the bridge of her nose against his before pressing another chaste kiss to his mouth. “Te amo… Te quiero mucho…” She mumbles against his lips. “Yo también te amo…” He pulls her close as she buries her face into his neck and tucks her hands close. “Buenas noches mi amor, dulces sueños.” Felipe mumbles, eyes closing. Valeria mumbles something that may have been vaguely similar, and falls asleep, curled up against Felipe, fingers gently curled into his tank top. Listening to each other breath was already settling them both into a quicker sleep, and as the night began to move along, Felipe began mumbling in his sleep, moustache occasionally twitching. Valeria’s leg occasionally moved out and back in, a few times in a row in an uneven pattern. The two continue to sleep on. A sudden noise breaks through the baby monitor, and a shrill cry breaks out, rising in volume. Under the covers, Valeria mumbles out a curt curse as Felipe groans, head shifting to bury into the pillow.

#coco #coco movie #coco pixar #oscar and felipe #writing #coco oc #oc #oc x canon #drabble #felipe rivera #oscar rivera #imelda rivera #Hector Rivera #imector #soccoro rivera #pepita #felipe x valeria #oscar x leonor #jorge #santiago #ovidia #violeta #fluff #family #the rivera family #coco au #au #modern au #alternate universe