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skz-streamer · 9 months

Text

Cheeks

Pairing: Jisung (skz) x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: just brain rot fluff :)

Notes: Okayyyy so this wasnt exsactly an ask directed to mee but I was scrolling on my lovely moots page @seo--changbin and saw this post so ovi i had to write something 🙄🤭

Summary: Dinner with Han and the boys is always memorable, I mean who can forget Han's cute cheeks?!?

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

Word count ~1.3k ;)

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The restaurant buzzed with laughter and chatter as you and the boys gathered around a cozy corner table. Tonight, you were dining at your favorite spot, and the atmosphere was filled with warmth and friendship. You found yourself seated next to Jisung, and your heart fluttered with affection as you exchanged a subtle smile.

As the night went on, the conversation flowed effortlessly. The boys talked about everything from their recent performances to funny memories from earlier the week. Amidst the banter, you noticed Jisung occasionally getting caught up in the excitement of shared stories.

Without even thinking, you reached for a spoonful of his favorite dish and gently offered it to him. Jisung blinked in surprise but accepted with a smile, his cheeks puffing up adorably like a chipmunk. It was an unconscious gesture, an act of affection that came naturally to you whenever you saw him engrossed in something.

The other members around the table couldn't help but notice the sweet exchange and their eyes sparkled with amusement. Changbin, ever the playful one, chuckled and teased, "Hey, y/nah, are you his chef now?"

You blushed, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and endearment. "Oh, I-I didn't even realize I was doing it," you stammered, trying to hide your shy smile.

"It's cute," Felix chimed in, giving you both a thumbs-up. "You two are like a cute couple!"

Seungmin and Hyunjin joined in the teasing, calling you "the feeding fairy" and "Jisung's favorite cook," which only made Jisung's cheeks turn even rosier. But amidst the playful banter, you could see the warmth in their eyes, appreciating the genuine connection between you and Jisung.

Jisung, however, seemed to revel in the attention, shooting you a grateful look. "Well, I'm lucky to have someone who cares about me," he said, a touch of affection in his voice.

Throughout the dinner, the playful teasing continued, but it only made you and Jisung feel closer. Every time you noticed him getting caught up in the conversation, your hand would unconsciously reach out to feed him, and he would eat the food you offered with a smile.

The dinner progressed with moments of joy and camaraderie. The boys shared stories, laughed together, and bonded over the simple pleasure of being in each other's company. All the while, you continued to absentmindedly feed Jisung, a gesture that felt as natural as breathing.

As the night wore on, the table was filled with laughter, and you found yourself lost in the comfort of their company. Time seemed to slip away, and soon, the evening was drawing to a close.

Jisung nudged you playfully, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Hey, y/n, did you save me any of that delicious dish?"

You grinned, realizing that you had been so engrossed in the conversation that you forgot to eat yourself. "Oops, sorry, Jisungie," you said, picking up your spoon and scooping a fresh serving of the dish for him. "Here you go."

He chuckled, taking the offered spoonful and eating it with a satisfied sigh. "Thanks, you're the best," he said, giving you a wink.

The warmth in his eyes made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but blush. Feeding Jisung had become such a natural and affectionate act, one that spoke volumes about the bond you two shared.

As the night progressed, you found yourself lost in the enchanting atmosphere of the dinner. The restaurant's soft lighting, the laughter of your friends, and the gentle touches exchanged between you and Jisung created an ambiance that felt like a dream.

With every tender gesture, you felt the affection between you two growing stronger. Jisung's eyes would meet yours in an unspoken language of love, and a small smile would form on his lips every time you fed him.

It wasn't just about the food; it was about the connection—the intimacy of sharing a moment that only you two understood amidst the laughter and chatter of the group.

The other members also noticed the affectionate exchanges between you and Jisung, and they couldn't help but find it heartwarming. Felix leaned over and whispered, "You two are adorable. It's like you have your little world there."

You chuckled softly, glancing at Jisung, who was engaged in a conversation with Changbin. "It feels natural, you know? Feeding him is like an instinct," you replied.

Seungmin nodded, teasing a little. "You both are like a cute old couple."

As the night drew to a close, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you. The dinner had been filled with laughter, affection, and heartfelt connections. You were grateful for the love and brotherhood that the boys shared, and above all, you were grateful for the love you and Jisung had discovered in the simplest of gestures.

As you all bid farewell and left the restaurant, the cool night air greeted you, and you walked hand in hand with Jisung, savoring the moment. The stars twinkled above, and you felt like the luckiest person in the world to have such a wonderful group of friends and to have found someone like Jisung who brought so much joy into your life.

"You know," Jisung said, breaking the silence, "tonight was special."

You looked at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "It was, wasn't it? I had the best time."

He chuckled, his eyes shining with affection. "Me too. And thanks for taking care of me during dinner. It means a lot to me."

"It's my pleasure," you replied, squeezing his hand gently. "I love taking care of you."

His cheeks turned pink, and he glanced away bashfully. "Well, I love it too," he admitted, his voice a little shy.

The night breeze caressed your cheeks, and you felt a surge of happiness that you couldn't contain. Jisung, sensing your excitement, pulled you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. His touch sent a delightful shiver down your spine, and you snuggled into his embrace, feeling a sense of warmth and security enveloping you.

"Let's do this again sometime," Jisung said, his voice soft and tender.

"I'd love that," you replied, your heart swelling with joy. "Every moment with you is special."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with affection. "I feel the same way."

-----------------

As the night continued, you and Jisung strolled hand in hand, enjoying the tranquil beauty of the city lights. The energy and excitement from dinner lingered, and you both felt an unspoken desire to extend the night.

"I don't want this evening to end just yet," Jisung whispered, pulling you closer.

You smiled, loving the idea of more time together. "Me neither. What do you have in mind?"

He grinned mischievously. "How about we go for round two? Let's grab a drink at that cozy cafe we love."

The suggestion brought a playful glint to your eyes. "Sure, but only if you promise not to get too hyper."

"I promise," Jisung replied with a chuckle. "One drink and I'll behave."

You walked hand in hand to the nearby cafe, finding solace in the comforting warmth and dim lighting. The ambiance was perfect for a quiet conversation, and you settled into a corner booth.

As you sipped on your drinks, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You talked about everything and nothing—sharing dreams, recounting funny moments, and basking in each other's company. Time seemed to slow down, allowing you both to enjoy every moment.

As the night deepened, a sense of peace settled over you both. You rested your head on Jisung's shoulder, feeling the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. In the soft glow of the cafe, his eyes locked with yours, and you felt a rush of affection wash over you.

"I'm glad we had this second round," Jisung murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"Me too," you replied, your heart swelling with love. "I could spend forever with you like this."

His eyes softened, and he leaned in, pressing a soft, tender kiss on your lips. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you at that moment.

As you pulled back, a sweet smile graced his lips. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart brimming with happiness.

Permanent tag list: @eee5533 @mixtape-racha @ot8skz-wifey @ren0325

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wisteriagoesvroom · 13 days

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For the trope mashup thing whatever: arranged marriage and neighbors 👀 - CX

again not one i would've picked but thank you for prompting it !! this also uh, got longer than i thought.

(from the prompts mash up - still taking submissions)

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“What do you mean your visa’s running out?” Lando asks.

“I’m Australian. Not a magician. Commonwealth only gets you so far.”

“I thought you were here on a scholarship.”

“Well. Yeah. But scholarships stop. Once you graduate.”

Lando toes the doorway rug. It feels weird to be talking about this in the middle of the hallway, though the only other person who would be listening might be Mrs. Kapoor, and half the time it’s only because she sticks her head out to ask if Lando or Oscar would take one of her mystery vegan curries. Lando is neither a huge fan of vegan food nor curry, and he trusts Oscar’s word for it that it’s good because they eat it while playing Gran Turismo at Lando’s place. But Lando always accepts the curries nonetheless, because his parents raised him to be polite, and he wasn’t raised in a barn. (Even if he technically grew up in converted farmhouse in the countryside, but that was besides the point.) Either way, this is slipping away from him much quicker than he’d anticipated. Late night hangouts, dropping mail and post-it notes, text messages about the community garden. The most inane smalltalk about things big and small from the origins of moths to whether aliens were out there or just chose to ignore the +44 area code. Oscar always laughing in the right places when Lando regales him about tales of his terrible online dating stories, Oscar always picking the pickles out of the roast beef bagels before he passes one to Lando. The corner of Lando’s sofa that Lando has started to think of as Oscar’s because he’s there so often, reading one of his books or trying to speedread a JSTOR article about the lifecycle of urban pathogens while Lando worked on artwork for his upcoming store launch.

Lando’s synapses are firing too fast. His brain did that most days, and that was what made him exceedingly good at his job, and today in particular - it doesn’t feel like there’s any logical way out.

Lando remembers that movie they watched once though. As a joke. The one they both pretended not to enjoy, with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds in Alaska. The one they watched when Oscar sat next to Lando on the sofa, and they both pretended the entire night that their knees weren’t touching.

His therapist said he had a tendency to get ahead of himself when under stress. But it’s a joke, it’s not serious, there’s no way—

“We could just like, get married.”

Lando shoves his hands in his pockets. That came out way more calm and cooler than he thought it actually would. And to his credit, Oscar doesn’t drop his mug of tea. Lando knows that’s his favourite one, because Lando got it for him, and it says Science is my superpower. Oscar does, however, slightly shift his grip on the mug.

“I feel like it’d be complicated to explain to my mum why I randomly married my upstairs neighbour?”

“But it’s not a no.”

Oscar tilts his head. There’s a glimmer of something focused, maybe even hungry in his eyes. Oscar gets like that when his mind turns, when he’s working on an especially difficult thesis, when the pieces are forming and he can lock into the crucial details.

Lando is a little alarmed at how much he already recognises it, and how much more often he’d like to draw that reaction out.

“If the facts don’t fit the theory, then reexamine the facts. Right?” Oscar says.

And Lando is there, in the doorway. Conscious that Mrs Kapoor might’ve heard everything, but all the more conscious that there’s a hammering in his heart that he can’t tell is nervousness, or anticipation.

What’s the stress limit for a joke you’re probably already pushing too far? Lando thinks.

He isn’t sure.

But maybe it’s a thesis worth testing out.

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(and ok maybe i cheated a little on arranged marriage but i think this is the closest i could get with the contemporary context. thank you @cx-boxbox for the prompt <3)

#landoscar #lando norris #oscar piastri #ln4 #op81 #mctwinks #twinklaren #f1 rpf #asks #wiz.promptfill #<- don't even know if i use this tag lmao but only one way to find out #green card marriages man what a tried and tested excellent trope #also one i've never written before!! so thanks or letting me dabble in the drabble #prompt game #wisteria HCs #why do picture blocks conspire against me lately #they just get so aggressive when i try to put 3 in a row on this device #anyway #yapping

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drenched-in-sunlight · 8 months

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hello hi!!! grfhvhghr i am in love with your artwork so much you cant believe-- i wanna ask if you have any tips on how you lineart and colourpick?? no pressure to answer tho, have a great day/night!! again, love your art <33

hi!! thank you for your kind words!! since i got asked about these a lot, im answering this for all the other ask asking about lineart and colour tips too! You can see some previous post here.

also i could only give out tips that work for my drawing style - which is heavy lineart / colours pop up the line (believe it or not it's American comic book style. ppl cant understand why my art doesnt really look like usual anime/ Asian webtoon style, even though it is still clearly anime / Asian webtoon style, but when i told them it's because im drawing these by studying American comics, no one believes it either lmao.

i do study but i do my own things too, so most of my art inspo is really unexpected to ppl, but they r really where i learn things from, cuz i dont even go to art school TT_TT).

Changing the brush size will help you achieve thick/thin lines better without having to put pressure on your wrists. Keep your hold relaxed and let bigger brush size give you the thick strokes.

I like messy sketch, to me the sketch is just an outline shape to fill details in when i do the line, it also gives more freedom to wriggle as i draw! cuz i dont really plan out everything from the start, just wing it as i go, so a lot of my work is actually very spontaneous.

that leads to this point: when you do the lineart you should start deciding which colour style you want from it to adjust the details amount. the ink shadow blocks in my art aren't there randomly, i adjust them to best complement the shape language and colours.

for piece where i want the line/shadow to...idk hit (?), the colours are almost flat with textured brush adding depth to them, so the inking is the shading, thus there are more details in the lineart / ink blocks.

for the video above and piece like this where i want the colours to be clear and pop out, the use of ink blocks are minimized and i do the shading during colouring process. but! the ink blocks can still make some places pop very nicely! just use in moderation!

when doing the base it's good to keep the colour on the left side of the colour wheel (low saturation), but as you do shading and lighting, try to spread out evenly so it won't look washed out.

toggle around with hue and saturation slider as you go! the key is always adjusting! you're making hundreds of decisions at once, being conscious of your choice in why a line or a colour should be in a certain way will help improve your process a lot! (i think you can tell which art i turned off my brain and just draw for stress relief ........ which is also a valid way to draw and sometimes the result might surprise you! but for more serious stuffs i try to be aware of most of the move i make. it's problem solving, yeah?)

i find that one way to keep your art from appearing too...yellow in the end (which is sth that haunted my ass for a long while) is always aim for cold tone, so if you accidentally make it warm either way in the end it won't be too warm (and yellow :cry:)

well that's all the stuffs i can think on top of my head. sorry i can't give more advice on colour picking cuz it's sth i don't really know how to give advice on???? i think my colours now are still pretty lame haha........ if there are still any questions i'd gladly answer within my ability, though im very slow to answer ask ( i do read and be happy at all of them tho!)

#art tip #ask #anon #albi’s art #ALSO I AM SERIOUS ABOUT THE BRUSH SIZE THING SAVE YOUR WRISTS NOW. TODAY. DONT LET IT HURT THEN TRY TO FIX IT LATER #aughhhhhhhhh *rub my wrists*

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dragonflylady77 · 2 months

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Mr Steve and The Monster Hunter

It's finally there, time to post my fic for @bigbangharringrove (thank you mods for all your work for this event!)

I've been working so hard on this one... I even did some doodles of a couple of scenes from it (I might post them once I've posted all 6 chapters).

Art by @adelacreations (so very excited about this!!).

I want to thank @ihni for Olivia’s name, @spaceofentropy for noticing I'd forgotten about Will (oops!) and @akioukun for Cindy’s name

Also on Ao3

Steve gets the surprise of his life when one of his students gets picked up by her father. A man who Steve thought had died on the dirty floor of Starcourt Mall fifteen years ago. Billy Hargrove is alive... and a dad. He runs a security company called HellGrove and he hunts monsters in the Upside Down for a living. When Billy opens a portal into the Upside Down in Robin and Heather’s backyard, Steve follows because he wants answers.

Chapter 1 - Mr Steve isn't a boy

Steve is looking forward to the weekend after a long week teaching six-year-olds. Having the school trip to the zoo the same week as the talent show is not something he’s keen to do again in a hurry and he let his principal know as much.

He smiles as the last of the kids rush past him, waving him goodbye as they squeeze in the doorway before running down the hallway towards the exit, a spring in their step. He notices Olivia is still in the classroom and he walks over to her desk.

“Everything okay, Olivia?” he asks as she shoves the last of her drawings in her backpack. He reminds himself for the hundredth time to ask Robin where she found the Hawkins Lifeguard backpack because he didn’t know such an item existed and he was a lifeguard at Hawkins Community Pool for a few summers, both while he was in high school, and after, during summer breaks from university.

He knows he isn’t supposed to have favorites but Robin and Heather’s daughter is one of the brightest students he’d had in his ten years of teaching elementary school and she is extremely funny to boot, at a level that her classmates usually don’t get.

“Yep, Mr Steve, I’m spending the weekend with my dad so I want to show him all my work.”

“Your dad?” Steve asks, confused. As far as he knows, the little girl only has her two mums. Of course, Steve figures there has to have been a man involved in the process, he did pay some attention in biology class, but he never asked. Heather still scares him a little and he isn’t as close to Robin as they were fifteen years ago.

Nope, not thinking about it.

“Yes, he works a lot all over the country so I don’t see him very much.”

“Then I bet you’re very excited to see him!”

“I haven’t seen him since Christmas, he’s very busy but he rings me when he can,” Olivia says matter-of-factly as she closes her bag.

“That’s nice,” Steve says, smiling even though he thinks two months is a long time without seeing your child, not that he has any of his own.

“He lives in California, you know,” she adds as she starts walking to the door.

Steve follows a few steps behind, in a daze, her words unleashing the memories of loud metal, leather and cigarettes, and a blue Camaro.

Nope, not thinking about him.

He watches Olivia step out of the classroom and turns towards the mess he still has to clean before he can go home when the voice coming from the adjoining hallway stops him in his tracks.

“Hey, princess!”

It can’t be. But that voice… He’s heard it before, and those words…

Shaking like a leaf, Steve turns towards the open doorway and takes the three steps that separate him from the owner of the voice.

It isn’t possible. Billy Hargrove is dead, Steve reminds himself. He died at Starcourt Mall fifteen years ago, in what remains the scariest night of Steve’s life. This is just his brain playing tricks on him.

He steps into the hallway and freezes. The shock of seeing Billy Hargrove, alive and in the flesh, dims Olivia’s gleeful screams.

He looks… Steve feels all the air leave his lungs. Billy looks fucking good for a dead guy. His hair is cut short, some golden curls on the top still, he looks broader in the shoulders, his muscles more defined than they were in high school, not that Steve is looking, but the guy is wearing a t-shirt that looks painted on, okay?

He is also sporting a scar across his left cheek that looks not too recent but doesn’t make him look any less handsome, as well as some gnarly looking, but silver, older, scars on his arms and Steve knows there would be matching ones on his sides and in the middle of his chest, where the Mind Flayer had hit him with its tentacles.

“Pretty boy?” The shock is evident in Billy’s voice. He clearly didn’t expect to see Steve either.

“Daddy, you’re silly. Mr Steve isn’t a boy, he’s my teacher!”

Billy clears his throat and looks down at his daughter. “I can see that, princess.”

Billy Hargrove has a daughter!! What. The. Fuck?

“Billy. Long time no see.”

“Mr Steve, you know my daddy?” Olivia is looking between the two of them, trying to work out the connection.

Billy crouches so he is level with Olivia. “Mr Steve went to school with me and your moms, Livi.” He looks around and picks up her cardigan from her hook. “Is that all your stuff?”

“Yes, Daddy. I gotted all the stuff in my bag to show you.”

“That’s great, princess. Can you wait here a minute while I have a super quick chat with Mr Steve?”

She nods. “Can I play the word game on your phone?”

“Sure thing.”

Once Billy sorts Olivia with her game, he looks at Steve who is still hovering in the doorway and gestures towards the classroom. Steve nods and heads back inside, Billy a few steps behind him.

Steve stops when he reaches his desk, trying to compose himself. He hears Billy behind him and turns around.

“Robin never said—”

“You probably hav—”

They both stop at the same time and Steve knows he’s being awkward but he is not prepared for this. It’s not like he was friends with the guy back in high school, but Billy sacrificed his life to save them that day in1985 so for him to just show up like that is just… Steve doesn’t even know at this stage. He needs time to process.

“Listen, I have to run, haven’t seen Livi in way too long and I want to make the best of it but if you want to talk, or like, I dunno, have questions for me, here’s my card. Call me.”

Billy pulls out his wallet and hands Steve a business card with a tentative smile. Steve takes it, trying to wrap his head around what just happened. He nods as Billy puts his wallet away.

“See you around, pretty boy.” Billy doesn’t wait for a reply and he heads out.

Steve hears Olivia’s voice then the chatter moves further away as they walk towards the exit.

He finally looks down at the card in his hand. It’s dark gray, almost black, with the letters HG in white in the middle. He flips it to find the same monogram on the left then his eyes read over the words, taking them in.

HellGrove Security Consultants

William H. Hargrove

CEO & Head of Security

Followed by a phone number and an email address.

What.

The.

Fuck?

***

It’s after midnight and Steve is lying on his bed, flipping Billy’s card over and over, the dim light of his bedside lamp catching on something in the corner of the card. It’s embossed in the same color so he didn’t really notice until now. He brings the card closer so he can have a proper look and…

It’s a demogorgon flower head.

Motherfucker.

He grabs his phone to call Robin but then remembers that they’re not really best friends anymore, besides it’s late and she’s a parent now. Olivia did say she was spending the weekend with her dad but Steve isn’t sure what the arrangement is.

Billy Hargrove is alive and he’s a dad.

More questions than answers and it’s making Steve want to scream. So he sends Robin a message, figuring that she can choose to reply if she’s awake.

He hopes she does.

Steve: So I met Olivia’s dad at pick up today.

Immediately the reply box shows three littles dots. Steve holds his breath for a bit but has to give up after a minute. Either Robin is typing a novel-length explanation or she is not sure what to say.

Robin: Surprise? <cringe emoji>

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Steve yells in the empty room, his frustration at boiling point. His phone dings again and he looks to see what else Robin had to say.

Robin: Come over for lunch tomorrow. We’ll talk.

Steve sends a brief text saying he’ll be there then puts his phone down and switches to his laptop, giving into the temptation to visit HellGrove.com.

The website mentions the usual stuff: the various services offered (most of which mean little to Steve), reviews from clients as well a page about the company and its staff. Steve keeps looking on the main page for the freaky flower and finally finds it, hidden on the Reviews page when his cursor hovers in the bottom left corner and HOLY FUCK!

There’s no photos of the Upside Down but the hand drawn illustration in the banner is enough for Steve to suppress a shudder at the memories. There are a handful of anonymous written accounts by survivors who were rescued by HellGrove and reports about unsuccessful rescue missions. The wording is vague but, to someone who’s experienced it first hand, it’s clear they’re talking about the Upside Down.

Steve goes back to the home page and clicks on Staff. His eyes immediately focus on the black and white photo of Billy. It must have been taken some time ago because the scar on his face is missing.

The short bio tells Steve that William H. Hargrove joined the Marines at eighteen and left after six years to start his own security company. Steve scrolls down and he is surprised and a bit shocked to find out that Max, Lucas, Will and El also work for Billy. And some guy named Argyle, who apparently has no last name.

He vaguely remembers Dustin mentioning that Lucas got a job in California after college and he knew El and the Byers already lived over there. He feels bad when he realizes he hasn’t thought about Max in years. He ponders reaching out to Dustin but that would open a can of worms and even more questions.

He closes his laptop and dumps it on the other side of the bed and settles on his side to go to sleep.

The feeling of an arm around his waist pulls Steve from his slumber. He gasps when he realizes there’s a (warm!) body behind him, the owner of which is dragging him closer and dropping a string of kisses on his shoulder.

Steve can’t remember the last time he shared a bed with someone, especially while being naked, though he is sure he was wearing pajamas earlier. The kisses morph into a bite and a needy moan escapes his lips when he feels teeth nibbling on his skin. The embrace around his middle tightens and Steve’s hand drifts to the one holding him, fingers locking with the ones of the man behind him. Because it is a man, of that Steve has no doubt.

He looks down, noticing the silver scars in the soft glow of his bedside lamp. “Billy?”

“Sorry I woke you up, pretty boy,” comes the hushed whisper from behind him.

“No, it’s okay. What are yo—” The words die in his throat when Billy moves their linked hands south. Steve can feel Billy harden against his ass as their hands start stroking his dick and he shivers.

Billy gives a light squeeze and Steve rolls his hips, arching his back and groaning when Billy bites down on the crook of his neck.

“Oh god… Billy…”

Steve lets go of Billy’s hand to bury his fingers in golden curls instead. It’s been so long since the hand touching him wasn’t his that the pleasure of it is blinding in its intensity.

He moans loudly, earning himself another bite from Billy.

“Shhhh, pretty boy, not so loud, you’ll wake the baby.”

Steve sinks his teeth in his bottom lip in an effort to be quiet, so he doesn’t wake this baby he doesn’t remember having. His entire focus is on not making noise while Billy does unspeakable things to his body. He shudders; he’s so close already…

Billy notices, because of course he does, he always did notice things, and his hand starts moving faster, his closed fist squeezing the head of Steve’s cock on the upstroke. It’s slick, it’s heady, and too soon, Steve can feel his orgasm rushing at him.

He comes with a shout he can’t silence, but when he opens his eyes again, he’s alone in his bed. It’s his hand around his cock, his mess in his pajama pants.

Chest still heaving, he quickly cleans up using his pants and gets back into bed wearing a clean pair, reeling from the shocked realization that he wants Billy Hargrove. And a baby.

What the fuck?

Chapter 2

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove big bang #harringrove bigbang #harringrovebigbang #dragonflylady77 #collab #mr steve and the monster hunter

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softxsuki · 8 months

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Hey! Uhm well I was wondering if you could do a ran or rindou haitani x reader self harm urges post if not both because I've been struggling really hard to try not to do it and losing sleep because of it. I hope you understand have a great night/day 😁

Shinichiro Comforts Reader With Self-Harm Urges

PLEASE DON'T READ IF MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM AND OLD SCARS WILL TRIGGER YOU MORE THAN IT WILL COMFORT YOU.

Pairing: Shinichiro x Gn!Reader

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, old scars, urges to hurt yourself

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 690

Summary: In which Shinichiro comforts you after finding out about your urges to self-harm again

[A/N: Written with Shinichiro like you asked for in your other ask since I don't write for Ran or Rindou yet :3. Sorry about the delay, I took a nap since I've been sleep deprived lately, and my nap turned into a 5 hour long sleep...oops. But I hope this was worth the wait, and hopefully it provides you with some comfort to help those urges go away! Remember everyone, your comfort characters love you and wouldn't want you to hurt yourself; that includes Ran and Rindou. Though I don't know much about them, I just know that their s/o would be the most precious person to them, so knowing you were hurting yourself would break their heart. ily, thanks for trusting me with your urgent request <3]

Shinichiro:

Shinichiro is the type of guy who tells you he’ll always be there for you, and he really is

So long as you actually tell him whenever you’re struggling, he’s not that great at picking up on the subtle hints that you’re struggling on your own

Of course he knows about your history with self-harm, you’d both spoken about it on one of your heart to heart conversations where all your inner, darkest secrets were spilled to each other

Because of this, he has tried to be a little more observant towards you, making sure you’re not suffering alone, and feeling like you have to rely on self-harm to feel better

As soon as you do open up to him one night about your recent urges to self-harm again, he’s on high alert, racking his brain for the best words to soothe you

Knowing you have this internal struggle to harm yourself makes him feel useless, I mean, what could he possibly do or say to stop you from feeling this way? He didn’t want you to feel judged or bad for feeling the way you do…

So he does whatever comes to his mind first; he grabs a sharpie and gently holds your arm in his hands, flipping is over so he can see your wrists

Evidence of your older battles are evident on them still, scars that will always remain, yet are a testament to everything you’ve survived through thus far, a strength in you he greatly admired

He slowly draws a heart on your wrist with the sharpie, as you look on in confusion at his actions. He blows on your skin, allowing the ink to dry before pressing a kiss to it and allowing you your arm back

“That right there is my heart, whenever you feel the urge to hurt yourself and don’t feel confident enough to tell me about it, just look at the heart…if it fades, just let me know and I’ll redraw it for you as many times as you need. If you hurt yourself, you also hurt me,” he says softly, looking into your eyes

Shinichiro wasn’t the best at emotions and letting you know how he felt without getting blushy and nervous that he’ll mess up his words, was close to impossible

“Oh gosh, this is stupid right? I’m sorry, I was trying to be cool…Look, I just want you to know that I’m here for you and I care about you so much. It’s hard for anyone other than you to know exactly what you’re going through, but I promise I’ll be by your side to help you through anything you need. If you feel these urges to hurt yourself, maybe we can go out and blow off some steam. We can go to a junkyard and just smash up a few things. Just…please don’t take out your frustrations and complicated emotions on yourself. I’d rather you hit me and scream at me than harm yourself, Y/N.”

He means every word and is ready and willing to do whatever it takes to make you feel better, you only need to say the word

After your confession on the urges you’re feeling, Shin keeps an even closer eye on you, hoping that he doesn’t feel too suffocating. He just doesn’t want you to resort to temporary solutions to your feelings and would much rather target the root cause so you can feel better about things moving forward

Checks up on the heart he drew on you to make sure you’re taking good care of it, and smiles happily when he sees it’s still intact, peppering kisses to your skin, and embracing you

However, in the slight chance that his tactics don’t work and you do resort to your own methods of coping, he isn’t disappointed, but he is hurt and upset at himself that he couldn’t do enough to help you

If you fall once, just get back up and try again–that’s what he believes, so he’s right there by your side to pick you back up and try again until those urges never return

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 08/23/2023

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #shinichiro x y/n #shinichiro x you #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers comfort #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyo rev comfort #shinichiro headcanons #shinichiro comfort

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the-eldritch-it-gay · 2 months

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Hunger

I posted this a bit ago, but I think I accidentally deleted it while cleaning up my blog. So I edited it a bit and thought I should post it again. I think it's a neat look at Majexatli and the fact they're a Malarite.

CW: Hunting, Violence, Everything you'd imagine would come with worship of Malar (a Chaotic Evil deity of hunting, bloodlust, bestial violence)

Majexatli wondered, sometimes, what drew them to the hunt.

It wasn’t something they took the time to consider before the Nautiloid, when they prowled the Sword Coast in wildshape. Back then they rationalized it; it was much easier to hunt and eat in wildshape than to gather ingredients and make camp and cook something. Having most of their meals be bloody and raw made the ones they had outside of wildshape that much more special.

Now, though? They spent their days as a person, every night there was a camp with plenty of rations, there was wine and cooked meats and soups and bread enough for everyone. There were traders who could sell them any array of foods, there were greens and mushrooms a plenty along the road, abandoned campsites and kitchens with all sorts of meats and produce.

Majexatli didn’t need to hunt, every night they could curl up by a fire with a full belly.

So what drew them to the hunt? Why did they still feel a hunger clawing at them? A restlessness in their own skin?

Sometimes at night, Majexatli watched Astarion hunt while prowling in the shadows and lurking in trees. He was effective enough but clumsy. As much as he has grown better at stealth, at ambushing enemies with his bow or dagger, he was different when he had just his teeth, when his mind was preoccupied with hunger. It was quick and inelegant, never drawn out, he picked whatever animal he could find, it didn’t matter what it was so long as they had blood.

It seemed wasteful.

Sometimes Majexatli entertained the thought of teaching him how to hunt properly, the art of drawing it out. Maybe they could have him hunt them, make him prove himself before spilling their blood. Never were his eyes more present and alive than when their blood was on his tongue.

They could teach him the rules of the hunt.

They shouldn’t, they knew, shouldn’t drag him down with them. They were supposed to be the kind and wise druid coaxing him back from the edge, rather than echoing the dark whispers in their mind and showing him the shards of divinity that could be in everything if you tore into the flesh enough, how if you swallowed holiness bloodied and raw enough it could fix you from the inside.

But Astarion was a vampire, undead, he needed blood to live. He had a reason for his bloodshed, he would starve without it. What reason did Majexatli have?

If their hunt was just a supplication, a prayer, an offering, then why did they hunger?

Was devotion making them a monster, or was their piety a justification for the monster they already were?

If they weren’t a monster, if they were truly good, then Majexatli would have been at camp, basking in the victory of the Shadow Curse being lifted, finding what pleasure could be found in the brief moments before they chased the Elder Brain to Baldur’s Gate.

Kethric Thorm was dead, the Nightsong freed, Thaniel made whole again, Gale alive, Wyll would be free of his contract soon, Jaheira and Minthara had joined their camp. There was a veritable feast around the campfire, endless companionship, if they wanted they could be pulling someone away to somewhere private and chasing whatever pleasure they could.

Instead, they were in the forest, hidden in the shadows, following a trail of blood through the trees, the buzzing euphoria of the hunt dulling the hunger that had dug its claws into them.

Slaying the young is forbidden.

The brown bear in their sights was full-grown, only slightly larger than Majexatli’s current form, the Dire Wolf they hadn’t let out since the gnolls on the Risen Road. In any other form, it would have been stupid, reckless to take on a bear. It might still be, but they wanted a challenge, wanted to impress.

A bear claw was one of Malar’s holy symbols.

Make your kills long and bloody.

They jumped from the shadows, snapping at the bear’s hind leg, making sure to bite and tear its flesh enough for the bear's blood to spill on the grass below. They let the bear get a swipe on them, feigned a pained yelp as it spilled their blood in turn, ran off into the trees as though afraid and wounded.

Oh, Majexatli was disappointed when the bear didn’t follow, when it didn’t try to hunt them down in turn, but they could adapt.

Keeping to the shadows, every so often they purposefully stepped on a twig, just to watch the bear stop in tense silence, sniff the air. In that tense silence, they would dash out, pounce and bite and then run off again before the bear could truly react.

Taste the blood of those you slay and never kill from a distance.

Majexatli shouldn’t have enjoyed it, they knew, but the only thought in their mind was blood. With every snap of their teeth, they relished in the sharp, warm rush of blood in their mouth, as they stalked they lapped at their muzzle and the blood soaking their fur. The promise of more blood, of tearing open flesh, of devouring raw and bloody viscera was intoxicating.

They followed the trail of blood through the trees, stalking, tracking, thrilling at the adrenaline in their veins that kept them warm and warded off the cold breeze. Majexatli let the blood lead them to the edge of a clearing, down to the river’s edge.

The bear was wounded, patches of its fur stained red and glistening in the moonlight. The wounds weren’t grave, bites and claw marks purposefully shallow, just enough to bleed, to distract it, to wear it down. There in the open, there were no twigs or dried foliage to alert the bear to their presence as it licked its wounds on the river bank.

Crouching in the grass, Majexatli almost felt at home, they could almost forget about the Elder Brain and the Nautiloid.

They let out a growl as they lunged, managing to knock the bear over as their jaw clamped down on the juncture of its neck, heart jumping and blood singing as they held it there, felt the bear thrash beneath them claws swiping at them blindly, weakly.

And then Majexatli’s blood turned to ice as they felt the fur beneath their teeth fade, muscles reshape and suddenly their teeth were sinking into a person’s flesh, so much more fragile, so easy for the flesh to give.

The rush of blood in their mouth filled them with terror. They should have released immediately, should have let go of the shoulder as soon as they felt the change, as soon as they heard a cry of pain in a voice so familiar. They should have relaxed their jaw—but why? Did they want to let go and drop wildshape? Or did they want to let go so they could adjust their bite, shift their teeth from shoulder to neck, find the jugular and sink their teeth in—

A strong hand found the scruff of their neck somehow, even as now this form dwarfed the man beneath them. Blunt fingers dug into their fur, into the flesh and muscle there, more gentle than he had any right to be.

“Majexatli,”

They could feel the vibrations of his chest beneath their teeth, Halsin’s voice slightly strained, yet firm and with none of the hatred Majexatli deserved.

Majexatli’s jaw relaxed, teeth pulling out of flesh and they knew blood was spilling from the wounds. They hadn’t felt any bones snap beneath their teeth, yet their mind raced with images of what they would see when they pulled away, visions of Halsin with his throat torn open, bleeding out before they could do anything.

A memory surfaced, unbidden, so visceral even 20 years later, how quickly they had bled out, how they had spent those few seconds begging for Silvanus to save them, calling up every prayer they had memorized, every supplication and offering they had given. They had spent every breath striving for the balance Silvanus wanted and he had simply watched their lungs be torn from their chest, as if their slaughter was simply an accepted collateral in his divine plan.

“Majexatli,”

There was a hand on their face, and it took everything in Majexatli not to snarl and snap at the gentleness.

They couldn’t bring themselves to meet his eyes, instead staring at his shoulder, the tears in his tunic, the bloodstains, the bite marks still lazily oozing blood. He must have cast something, a healing spell to stem the worst of the bleeding and coax the shallowest wounds closed.

“It’s nothing serious,” His voice was so genuine, “I’ve had much worse, it’s alright. We’ve all had moments where we lose ourselves to the beast,”

Halsin let out a slight laugh, but Majexatli could hear a slight pain, the way it was slightly forced, as though he was trying and failing to ignore the Dire Wolf that stood over him. He knew, he had to know that Majexatli could snap his neck with their teeth, that his blood lingered in their mouth. Majexatli wanted to be horrified, disgusted, and they were, but they also wanted to lick their lips and savor the taste.

“Are you alright?”

They finally met his eyes and recoiled, from the concern in his face, from the cautious but naïve trust. He should be running or shifting back to a bear that could snap them in half, they would deserve it.

Majexatli had the upper hand, though, they still had their teeth and claws and as much as the thought of Halsin’s blood on their tongue sickened them, as much as they wanted it to taste foul, the taste was divine. It always was.

They could taste more of it. All they had to do was bite again, all they had to do was let go. Their quarry was beneath them, unarmed, unarmored, the end of the hunt, of their hunger was within reach.

Suffer no druid to live, for they believe not in survival of the strong, but in a weak-minded balance.

Majexatli ran.

Darting off into the trees, they ignored Halsin’s voice calling after them, blindly zigzagging through the forest as if they were trying to shake someone off their tail. But the beast they were trying to outrun was the one wearing their skin.

They crashed out of wildshape, into the dirt hard enough to skin their knees, their palms, though they could hardly tell their own blood apart from Halsin’s. Curled up on the ground there, they watched as the moonlight filtering through the trees slowly faded and was replaced by sunrise.

If your prey escapes, they have earned their freedom and whatever boon seems fit.

Majexatli didn’t know if there was anything they could give that would make up for what they did. But they weren’t sure if Halsin was the prey or if they were.

#eldritch it speaks #oc: majexatli #salam plays bg3 #smth about holiness seems to always end up in my writing #holiness metastasized (that poem)#holiness bloodied and raw (here)#í think divinity is not confined to heaven. it permeates everything.#anyways thats besides the point!#this is probably the only time Majexatli has technically stopped a hunt

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pomrania · 1 year

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For June 2023, I’m planning to do an art event where I’ll be drawing people’s queer D&D (or other gaming system) characters. That means I’ll need people with queer characters who want me to draw those characters. It’s the same thing as I did the last two years; but if you weren’t here for that, I’ll explain it now.

The TLDR is that if you have a queer D&D character (Pathfinder character, GURPS, Monster of the Week, any other gaming system), leave a comment here or send me a message, so I can work out a list of people who might be interested. If you’re not sure if something counts, ask me.

So, the non-TLDR version. There’s an event AdorkaStock has run called “Draw Everything June”, where new poses are put out for each weekday in June. (That worthy is being less active on dA, and currently has plans to host the event on their own site; if it doesn’t work out, then I’d use a different way to get their poses.) The pose is released the night before; I make a post about it, asking who’s interested; the next morning I check the replies, get into contact with someone who was interested in it, and I use that pose to draw their character.

You might notice that this requires me to know what their character looks like. If somebody already has good visual reference for their character, that’s great. If they don’t have reference for their character, then I can work with that; more specifically, work with THEM, to make a reference sheet I can use. And if they don’t really know what their character looks like, I can ALSO work with that, and help them figure out what their character might look like.

I can do all that stuff while working on a picture, but I’d really rather do it ahead of time. (Plus that’ll give me something to do that isn’t my Mermay piece, which is always good.) Thus, why I’m making this post now.

A few things I need to address:

“I don’t want to impose --” This isn’t imposing. This is literally me asking for people to let me draw their characters. Can I make it any more explicit?

“I’m sure you have lots of other characters to draw instead of mine --” Sometimes that happens, but in the past, what’s more often is that I don’t have ANY characters for a pose, and I have to hunt around for anyone who might be able to help, and/or beg.

“You’ve already drawn stuff for me --” And I’m perfectly capable of choosing someone else to draw stuff for, if I decide to, and all else being equal, I’ll generally pick a person who hasn’t gotten art from me before. BUT that’s “all else being equal”; and I’d really much rather have a lot of options to choose from.

“You literally drew my character last year.” Which means that your character will have lower priority (but maybe there’s a pose they’d be perfect for). I’d still like you to leave a note here, because I have a terrible memory for people; I’m not joking when I say that I can’t remember who it was, even if I chatted with you a lot about it. (I have literally forgotten that it was my MOTHER who did certain things; if HER identity can slip my mind, please believe me when I say it’s nothing personal.)

“I have multiple characters.” Awesome; some poses have two or three figures in them, and it’s easier when I just have one person to talk to about it, instead of two different people for two different characters.

“Why don’t you draw your own characters?” Because of how my brain works. Seriously.

“Here’s my character, you can just use them for whatever pose you choose.” That doesn’t work for me.

“I probably won’t be available while you’d be working on a drawing.” Then we’ll just have to work out as much as possible ahead of time; and while I prefer having regular feedback from the person whose character I’m drawing, so long as I know ahead of time that you won’t be around (and thus I won’t worry that you’re ignoring me), I can manage without it.

“But what about --” If you’ve any further questions, just ask them; not only am I not a mind reader, I’m also somewhat tired at the moment, so I prolly forgot to include a bunch of stuff.

#no fandom #not a reblog #personal

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skellagirl · 4 months

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I am, as usual, late lol, but Y'KNOW. This is gonna be a long, rambly post lol, sorry, I have a lot of thoughts.

2023 was a weird year for me, artwise. When it began I was still deep in my Art Block From Hell, which had begun in mid-2021 and lasted the entirety of 2022.

Being in the thick of such a ridiculously suffocating art block, for TWO AND A HALF YEARS, is like... I can't describe how fucking life-draining it is. It felt like something was fundamentally wrong with me -- like a part of me, which used to be as effortless as breathing or blinking my eyes, had ceased to function altogether. It wasn't just a regular art block, it was a complete identity crisis. I could no longer trust the instincts I'd honed over twenty-plus years, could no longer trust my sense of observation or my ability to recreate what I saw. I felt BROKEN, and every single time I picked up my tablet pen it was like I was scraping my insides with a spoon, trying to pick up whatever tiny dregs of dried-up, crusty shit I could manage to puke up onto my canvas. It was fucking painful and humiliating and completely demoralizing.

I'm not really sure what finally got me to do so, but sometime in summer (my memory is shit lol) I downloaded Game Maker, found a video tutorial on youtube, and just... gave myself over to it. I made myself learn how to use Aseprite, and working with pixels, making teeny-tiny little sprites, forced me to work in ways I usually don't. It was a lot harder for me to find the flaws in my art when my art was thirty-five pixels tall and the anatomy was stylized to communicate clear information rather than be a recreation or approximation of reality. I think I really do credit that time working on game dev as the thing that finally cracked loose all the gunk that was keeping me stuck -- I could not perpetuate the cycle of toxicity I'd fallen into because I could barely even conceptualize what 'good' or 'bad' pixel art even looked like lol. I just knew that I was making art, and for the first time in two years, it didn't feel like I was having to desperately beg the emaciated husks of my sense of self-worth and confidence to cooperate while doing so.

(I actually sort of abandoned my foray into game dev around August/September lol, as my adhd-brain, flitting around like a little hummingbird to every dopamine-rich-flower, is wont to do 🥲 But I wanna get back into it at some point!)

From there I had a rush of inspiration for an original project I've been mulling around in my head for years, and I wrote thousands of words in my worldbuilding document, made a map, developed the shell of a possible actual STORY. I returned to sketching. Conventional sketching. It was, at first, largely still comprised of that same demotivating struggle against myself, but I was so deep in the throes of inspiration (after several years of this project laying dormant in my google drive) that I NEEDED to sketch. So I kept going. And after a while, it got....... easier. And I started hating everything I made a little less. I painted, properly, for the first time in years. I stayed up late into the night, even if it meant I would be tired at work the next day, because drawing felt so damn GOOD again and I had missed that feeling so much. All I wanted to do was draw. For the first time in two and a half years, I could finally see the light at the end of the fucking tunnel.

I still don't think I'm quite out of the woods yet. My style is changing, as all artists' styles do over time, and that comes with stumbling adjustments. My confidence is still small and shaky and recovering; I still catch myself second-guessing what I've drawn, and even looking at some of the things here on my grid makes me cringe a little bit for one reason or another.

But compared to both 2021 and 2022, the volume of art, and in particular the volume of art I don't actively despise, is WAY higher, and I'm really really hopeful that that means I'm finding my footing again.

So! Here's to 2024, and to continuing to move towards the light at the end of the tunnel 🙏🌟 I'm gonna try.

#art vs artist #art vs artist 2023 #my art #skella's ugly mug #I actually did an art vs artist in 2021 but I only ever posted it on facebook lol I wasn't confident enough to post it anywhere else #purple and orange/yellow continues to be my favorite color pallet apparently #sorry not sorry for being sappy on my own blog <3333 #long post

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userkhael · 2 years

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kiss it better

Summary: Your annoyingly handsome brother’s best friend comes over for game night.

Word Count: 1300+

Warnings: RPF, FLUFFFFF

A/N: Kiss It Better by Rihanna hasn’t left my brain since I heard it. I was listening to it while writing this. I just wanted to make something light and a bit angsty just to quench my never ending desire for creating fake scenarios in my head LMAO. I hope you like it. Comments and reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated.

PS: Finally making a story using the POV I posted ♥

After a long day at work, you shouldn’t really do anything else but sleep. But you aren’t living alone and your brother is a huge pain in the ass every Thursday. You can forgive the loud banter and the incessant noises him and his friends make whenever they play their stupid game but the never-ending sexist remarks of his asshole friends really draws the straw. He doesn’t know about any of it and you dread every Thursday that comes.

You wipe the sleep from your eyes and force yourself to take a quick shower and eat before bed. You wake up terribly grumpy without it. It’s like you’re a whole ‘nother person. Rummaging the fridge for milk, you pull out the cereal off one of the drawers.

The door opens and you close your eyes, as if bracing yourself for “bro” impact. But it’s been five seconds and while your head is down, you listen to your surroundings.

“You feeling okay?” The voice is too near to ignore and when you open your eyes, you almost drop the bowl in your hand.

It’s Henry, one of your brother’s best friends. One of the decent ones. And yet he doesn’t make an effort to correct his friends, that’s why I also hate him. He’s built like a God and his face is chiseled like the Creator really took his time to perfect him. That makes me very annoyed. I hate how the butterflies in my stomach always flutter whenever he’s around.

“I’m good. Only you?” You point at him and he nods, smiling. God, even his smile is perfect. You don’t say another word and you both stand there like statues staring at each other. You know he cares about you like a sibling and sometimes you make it awkward for yourself because you can’t admit that you have a crush on him.

“Yeah, the other guys aren’t free this week.” He fiddles fingers and you almost think it’s because he’s near you. Guys like him have a line of women worshiping at his feet. He can pick one and get his flavor of the day.

“Thank God, I can sleep soundly today.” You comment and he smiles before your brother calls out for him in the living room. He smiles one more time, stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and turned on his heel, looking back at you one more time. You smile back at him and eat your cereal while your chest is beating ever so loudly.

After eating, you tried lying in bed and resting your eyes but sleep never came. All you thought about is how Henry’s lips perfectly move while he speaks, or how his muscles flex whenever he raises his hand. His constant visit to your brother doesn’t help your feelings at all. He’s always been your crush since you’re a nerdy twelve year old and he’s already twenty.Way too experienced but most of all way, way too far out your league. Standing up from your bed, you decide sleep is not for you today and walk towards the kitchen, intent on getting soda from the fridge.

But you almost regret stepping out of your room because Henry’s back is to you and he’s apparently doing the dishes in your apartment.

“You shouldn’t be doing that.” You say and he doesn’t look back but you can feel the smile on his face.

Opening the fridge and retrieving a soda can, you peek in the living room and see the game is in pause and your brother is nowhere to be found. You’re still looking at him as he loads everything in the dishwasher. Opening the soda can while looking at him seem to be a plausible route at this point but being dumb as you are, your nail got caught between and your flesh got cut by the sharp end. Well, hey, at least you opened your soda.

You hiss because it stung when the soda bubbled up and reached the surface of the can. Taunting you like an idiot. You shake your hand and inspect it but it decides to bleed like a motherfucker. Henry looks back and sees the stream of blood coming from your stupid nail and his face morphs into something you can never understand. He moves at lightspeed and retrieves the first aid kit in no time. He pulls your hand and looks at it intently.

“Throw away that soda, Y/N.” He says annoyed, dabbing cotton your nail, commanding you like some slave. The damage is worse than you let on. The metal sliced the flesh beside your nail and it wouldn’t stop bleeding.

You drink from the soda one more time, not caring about what Henry said. He snatched the can from your other hand and looked at you, his face red with anger.

“I said. Throw. It. Away.” He emphasized every word and you felt the shivers down your spine. Him putting a bandage on your poor nail just amplified everything. Before he can even lock the bandage, you pull your hand away.

“I can do it myself.” You say, taking the soda from his hand and throwing it away. You take the tape from the kit and sit down on the couch. But then you forgot the scissors and now you can’t cut it with your hand or teeth.

“You’re so fucking stubborn, you know that?” Henry walks to you, places the kit on the coffee table and kneels in front of you, pulling your injured hand again, now finishing what he started. He pours alcohol in a fresh cotton and wipes your elbow up to the palm of your hand without breaking eye contact. You didn’t realize you bleed that much in a few minutes.

“Thank you.” You clear your throat and pull your hand away, not looking at him. But then you feel his hand on your arm, not on a tight grip but definitely possessive. You can’t help but look at him and his lips look so kissable at this distance. You take a deep breath and his breath hitches. The tension between you is building like a volcano waiting to explode. You didn’t move for a few seconds until his lips crashed into yours. Both your tongue and lips melded into each other so easily. You admit this wasn’t your first kiss but you wished it was. You wished it was him you shared all your firsts with.

“My, uhm, my brother —” Pulling yourself away from him and think sane for a minute. If ever your brother finds out, he would go nuclear on your ass and his.

“He got called at work.” He said and you looked at him, not believing what he said. He runs his tongue on his bottom lip and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in a long time.

“Why did you stay?” I asked, trying to still my beating heart.

“I promised to do the dishes and uhm, I was hoping to see you before I leave.”

You look at him funny and he chuckles. “Your brother is going to kill me for doing this but fuck it.”

He caresses your face and this time his kisses are softer, more passionate. And you hold onto his neck while he carries you to your room. Your room is exceptionally dim and you like it that way.

“You can say no right now and I’ll leave. But if you want this too, say something.” He puts his thumb on your lips and it felt like heat radiated throughout your body for the first time.

“Yes. It’s always been yes with you.”

His smile is from ear to ear and I can’t help but giggle like a schoolgirl at his reaction. He kissed your whole body and made you feel like you’re doing this for the first time ever.

“Your brother will be so mad when he finds out.”

“Well, he can kiss my ass.”

He wags a finger at me and kisses your neck and ears, his hands on both of your ass cheeks, while he whispers, “This ass is mine now so he can’t kiss it.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill fic #rpf fanfic #rpf fluff #henry cavill rpf #one shot #khaeltxt #khaelwrites #fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic

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vic-the-bookdragon · 2 years

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Violets-Ianthe. Ocyrhoe. Persephone. A crack theory and how Koschei might be able to trick Azriel.

Disclaimer : Everything in this post is just a reflection of my thoughts and opinions. I don not claim anything as a fact when I theorize. Also, I am certain others have commented on those things as well, but I just wanted to add my own interpretation. Keep in mind, when I discuss different mythologies I just do it because it's fun to try and guess where SJM might have been inspired from, since we know she uses mythology and legends in her books.

This a very long post, I'm sorry. I hope everything makes sense.

Violets, their symbolism and Ianthe.

We all know that Feyre drew something on the drawer they shared, to represent each sister. The night and stars for her, flames for Nesta, and flowers for Elain. I've seen theories that claim that each drawing represents a sister and her potential love interest, and while I do believe that, I mostly agree with the theories that suspect that there might a deeper meaning. That the symbolism behind them reflects the journey/story of each sister.

I won't get into detail about Feyre and Nesta's drawers, because their stories have already been told and there are other amazing posts out there that analyze them perfectly. I won't get into great detail about Elain either, because, like I said it's been done before. But, I want to point out that the description we get about Elain's drawer is ever-changing and I want to give you the reason why I believe it's a representation of her journey.

ACOTAR

I slung off my outer clothes onto the sagging dresser - frowning at the violets and roses I'd painted around the knobs of Elain's drawer...

What I want to talk about is the violets.

They are said to represent "innocence, everlasting love, modesty, spiritual wisdom, faithfulness, mysticism, and remembrance."

What stuck out to me in particular is innocence and then something clicked in my brain, because in the next book Elain's drawer was mentioned violets were gone :

ACOMAF

I painted flowers for Elain on her drawer. [...] Little roses and begonias and irises.

Now, I know that in the beginning Sarah didn't intend for Feyre's sister to have a major role, but in ACOMAF things started to change and I wonder if she paid closer attention to things associated with Nesta and Elain. Sarah is known for her foreshadowing, which sometimes is truly good and other times terribly obvious. And that brings me to the violets, Ianthe and Elain's innocence.

At first I had assumed the 'innocence' thing was associated with Elain being a virgin and then losing her virginity with Greysen and that's why the violets where gone in ACOMAF.

But then I remebered Ianthe and what her name means.

In Greek mythology, Ianthe was one of the 3.000 Oceanids (water nymph, naiad) and, also one of Persephone's companions. Her parents were the Titans Oceanus and Tethys, and her name means "violet flower" (it also means "she who delights").

That made me believe that the virginal innocence wasn't the reason violets weren't mentioned again, but Elain's innocece as a whole.

Ianthe was the one who sold them out to King of Hybern, she was responsible for the sisters going into the Cauldron and being made into High Fae.

Elain's innocence died that day. After that she was forced to see a new side of the world, a darker side. From that moment forward, after her autonomy was violated, she couldn't be as she was before. She was "forced" (not really, it was her choice, but essentially turning into high fae sort of forced her) to participate and play a great role in a war. No one comes out unscathed from something like that and the price Elain paid was her innocence.

Violets are also a symbol of untimely death in the young (Elain's human body died that day) and melancholy (in ACOWAR Elain is struggling and is described as catatonic) and are identified with the natural cycle of life, death and rebirth and as a catalyst to transition. They are also among the flowers Persephone was said to have been picking when Hades kidnapped her.

All of these things make me believe Elain's flowers depict what will come to pass in her life and it's also quite symbolice if you think about it, since she is a seer.

2. Ocyrhoe.

Ocyrhoe was another Oceanid in greek mythology, her name means "swift-flowing" and she, too, was one of Persephone's companions/playmates.

“All we were playing in a lovely meadow, Leucippe and Phaeno and Electra and Ianthe, Melita also and Iache with Rhodea and Callirhoe [420] and Melobosis and Tyche and Ocyrhoe, fair as a flower, [...] we were playing and gathering sweet flowers” - Homeric Hymn to Demeter.

There are 5 characters she refers to :

One of the 3.000 Oceanides.

Chiron's daughter.

Daughter of Imbrasus (a river god) and Chesias (a maiden).

Mother of Caicus, son of Hermes.

Mother of Hippomedon (defender of Troy).

As I was scrolling absentmindedly through the internet looking at this and that, I came across Ocyrhoe and her story might have inspired Elain's character. (I repeat, it's not canon. Just my opinion)

In the story as Imbrasus and Chesias's daughter, Ocyrhoe became Apollo's object of desire, and while trying to flee from him she asked for help from a seafarer and an old friend of her father, Pompilus. He took her on his ship, but eventually Apollo reached them. Apollo took Ocyrhoe and turned the ship into stone and Pompilus into a fish.

In one version of the story where she is Chiron's daughter, she was a centaur and she had the power to see the things concealed by the Fates. One day, she revealed Chiron's fate to him (that he would give up his immortality to be spared the agonizing pain of a serpent's poison). For that transgression the gods punished her by taking her voice and turning her into a mare.

"...became Apollo's object of desire..." Elain has become L/cien's "object of desire" in a sense. I don't think he truly wants to be with her. I believe it's just the bond forcing these feelings on him.

"...trying to flee from him..." She wants nothing romantic to do with him and avoids him as much as she can.

"...she had the power to see the things concealed by the Fates..." She is a seer.

"...turning her into a mare..." She'd shown curiosity about whether Amren could've chosen a different form and we speculate that shapeshifting of some kind might be one of her powers.

What led me to research the possible connection between the two, was the fact that Ocyrhoe was present when Persephone was kidnapped to the Underworld, just like Elain was present when Feyre (the og Persephone in the ACOTAR series, but I believe Elain is also associated with her, and not just because of the flowers) was taken to Prythian. Ocyrhoe was also referred to as "fair as a flower" in Homer's Hymn to Demeter. It's not much, but...I thought it was interesting.

Also, as Chiron's daughter her mother was Chariclo. In another myth Chariclo was a nymph and Tiresias's mother. Tiresias became blind when he saw the goddess Athena naked. His mother begged her to lift her curse, but she couldn't. Instead she gave him the gift of sight. He is often portrayed as Apollo's oracle. And that made me think "What blinds an oracle?" and that Athena, the goddess of wisdom, is often depicted with an owl - Elain is shown to have owl like mannerisms.

Then we have Apollo who was said to be the god of "divine distance, who sent or threatened from afar; the god who made men aware of their own guilt and purified them of it; who presided over religious law and the constitutions of cities; and who communicated with mortals through prophets and oracles his knowledge of the future and the will of his father, Zeus."

3. Persephone.

I've seen a lot of posts claiming that Elain and Persephone have nothing in common except flowers.

Well, I beg to differ.

I know that Rhysand and Feyre are a loose retelling of Hades x Persephone, but I think Elain and Azriel are one too, only more heavy on the light/dark theme.

So, there are two versions of the myth.

In one version - the one I think Feysand got - Hades is said to have fallen in love when he first saw her in one of his rare visits from the Underworld and decided to form a plan and take her away. - Rhysand met Feyre when he crashed Calanmai and it was rare for him to be able to leave UtM. Even though he wasn't in love with her yet, he felt a connection.

Zeus helped him with his plan. When she was out picking flowers with her friends, the naiads, they made the ground split beneath her. She fell and Hades took her to the Underworld and made her his wife. - Mor helped Rhys free Feyre, when Tamlin had locked in the mansion. He took her to NC and the two slowly started getting to know each other.

At first Persephone was sad and unhappy, but after a long while she eventually fell in love with Hades and was able to live happily with him in the Otherworld. - After Feyre was surrounded by people who didn't suppress her and cared about her mental state and trauma, she slowly begun to heal, along with Rhys. The two fell in love, Rhysand made her his High Lady and they lived happily ever after in the NC.

The other version has Demeter in it and Persephone was lured away from naiad friends by a narcisuss flower, planted by Gaia who was following Zeus's orders. The earth opened as she pulled the flower and that's how Hades was able to abduct her.

In the Az's bonus chapter, we could say that Rhys had taken the role of Demeter by commanding Azriel to stay away from Elain (Not because he doesn't want them together or values L/cien's happiness more than his brother's, but because of the consequences. I also do not think Rhys will keep that stance forever. I believe many people who will be against Elriel will take the role of Demeter or even the difficulties the couple will face will represent her). In the myth Demeter in her despair and desperate search for her daughter abandoned her duties, starvation reigned and people died. - Elain and Azriel coming together while she's still L/cien's mate could either cause L/ucien demand the Blood Duel or a civil war between the courts, since tensions are high already.

Hades agreed to let Persephone leave once a year for six months and live with her mother, but the rest of the year she would stay with him (although Persephone ate only 4 pomegranate seeds) - I believe, and hope mostly, that's the reason why SJM mentioned that Azriel owns a place called Rosehall and his mother lives there. I think they will split their time between Rosehall and the NC.

Also, the flower narcissus (daffodil) represents rebirth and new beginnings.

Fun fact : In the myth, Demeter was the one who turned all the naiads into sirens because they lost her daughter.

Ok, and now it's time...

4. A crack theory.

Papa Archeron promised Koschei to give him Elain and Nesta.

The Archerons' father didn't give Koschei his soul or spirit in exchange for Vassa, but instead gave him his two remaining mortal daughters. This possibility is something I've been pondering for quite a while.

“Where is Briallyn?” Azriel demanded, Siphons flaring like cobalt flame.

“I spend so many months preparing for you,” Koschei crooned, “and you don’t even wish to speak to me?”

This quote right here suggests that there is indeed a connection between Azriel and Koschei.

If we assume that some theories out there are correct, about how Az's shadows could be made somehow, that Az could have an even deeper connection to him and that Koschei has a connection to the Cauldron, I think Koschei knows how powerful Azriel really is and what a fine weapon he would make in an upcoming war. I don't think he wants him to find the 4th Trove. Better yet, I don't think he wants him just for that.

“Certainly.” Vassa peered at her hands, fingers flexing. “I fear what may happen if he ever gets free of the lake. If he sees this world on the cusp of disaster and knows he could strike, and strike hard, and make himself its master. As he once tried to do, long ago.”

We know Azriel is very powerful and he can "winnow", something not many powerful fae can - although, I believe this ability has to do with him being able to control shadows. We also know that he is the only known living shadowsinger and that they are very rare. Also, we don't know very much about his past in general.

What if Koschei was the first shadowsinger or had the ability to control shadows as a death God? What if Azriel is his descendant and some that's were his shadows come from? What if Koschei's essence lives inside of Azriel, but not enough to control him completely? What if now Koschei has found a way to overcome that problem? - I'll circle back to that because I think there may be some truth there. And I know that's a lot of what ifs, but this is a crack theory.

In the original tale, Koschei using spells has hidden his soul inside nested objects to protect it. It may be hidden "in the needle that is hidden inside the egg, the egg is in the duck, the duck is in the hare, the hare is in the chest, the chest is buried or chained up on a far island."

Couldn't Koschei in ACOTAR, who is also a sorcerer, do the same? But instead of keeping it in nested objects, he split it in two, kept one piece inside the onyx box - which I suspect might be wyrdstone - and hid the other in the Cauldron?

It is said that "It (the Cauldron) fell into the wrong hands and great and horrible things were done with it". Could it have fallen to Koschei's hands? Could he be the one who created the original Dread Trove, and so parts of his soul are in these objects? And that's why people can't remember it, because he spelled it to keep it safe? But now that he found a way to be free from the lake he wants it back, to be complete?

The Cauldron is, also, called The Bowl of Life and Death, but is there a chance that at one point it was just The Bowl of Life, since it gave life to Prythian, and the death part was added later, when Koschei meddled with it? Koschei, being as powerful as he is described to be, could have manipulated everyone into thinking that if something happens to it then all life would end, to ensure that no one would try to destroy it, and by extension him, completely.

Let's talk about the Book of Breathings for a second, because it might seem like plot hole in this scenario. The Book of Breathings was created from the last of the molten ore used to forge the Cauldron, not in the Cauldron, therefore not by the Cauldron itself. So, the way I see it, it could still cause damage to the Cauldron and Koschei himself, if part of his soul was indeed there

Everything I'll talk about from now on are based on the assumption that Koschei's soul is in the Cauldron and in the objects of the Dread Trove and he is somehow Azriel's predecessor or that his shadows contain Koschei's essence.

What Vassa suspected is true. The death-lord Koschei has been whispering in Briallyn’s ear. He remains trapped at his lake, but his words carry on the wind to her. He is ancient, his depth of knowledge fathomless. He pointed Briallyn toward the Dread Trove—not for her sake, but for his own ends. He wishes to use it to free himself from his lake.

From this quote we know that Koschei has the ability to communicate with people, even though his trapped at a lake. That leads me to assume the wind whispers back (and maybe it does in canon, but I don't remember). If that is so, then he heard about Feyre, the human girl who died and then was reborn made into High Fae. He must've also heard that when the 7 High Lords brought her back to life, a piece of them, a piece of their power, transferred to her, making her as powerful as Rhysand.

And he thought he could do the same, if he pulled all the strings right...

He manipulated Papa Archeron to travel to the continent to meet with him and trade away both himself and his daughters. And He manipulated the King of Hybern to have them thrown in the Cauldron...

...to be made into weapons - Amren had mentioned that the sisters might be as powerful as Rhysand after being Made, just as Azriel might be on the same level of power as Rhys - and to bear a part of his soul so he can get it back.

We later learn that the sisters accumulated power/powers from the Cauldron. Nesta took hers forcibly, while Elain's was a gift. And I believe there's a reason for it.

The Cauldron/Koschei sensed Nesta's resilience and that she could not be easily fooled, - remember how she broke through Tamlin's glamour in book 1? - but she stole from it nontheless.

Elain, though, the gentler, kinder, more naive of the two, was perfect. We know that she became a seer, but we don't know what else. I think, Elain is immensly powerful, even though we haven't seen it yet. I think she is more powerful than Nesta was, before she gave her power away.

And that leads me to what I speculate Elain's other power might be. Being associated with dawn is not a coincidence, not just for the Dusk Court theory, but also about her hidden power. A meeting of light and shadow. Beside the shapeshifting - which is not a sure thing, but it might have been foreshadowed - I think Elain has shadowfire, like Kaltain Rompier in ToG, or more accurately shadowlight and that power was triggered when Azriel offered her Truth Teller and she accepted it. When she touched TT she tapped into it and that's one of the reasons Feyre highlights that scene between them. Light. And dark. A bridge of connection. I'll cricle back to that because there's something more I want to add.

I also believe that the Cauldron/Koschei thinking Elain would be more easily manipulated was not the only reason it gave her gifts and purred in her presence.

The Bone Carver mentions :

"...Had I been braver, I might have bided my time—waited for their power to fade, for that long-ago Fae warrior to trick Stryga into diminishing her power and becoming confined to the Middle. Koschei, too—confined and bound by his little lake on the continent. All before Prythian, before the land was carved up and any High Lord was crowned.” Cassian and I waited, not daring to interrupt. “Clever, that Fae warrior. Her bloodline is long gone now—though a trace still runs through some human line.”

That human bloodline could potentially be Vassa's. But what if there's another one though in the Archeron line? And that's why the Cauldron/Koschei has shown so much interest in her? Because that trace runs stronger in her blood and she could be made into a more lethal weapon and not just because she is beautiful? That also makes me consider the fact that Elain being a seer has nothing to do with her going into the Cauldron. That it's just simply the dormant magic in her blood being activated and that she can't sleep because a type of "bond" was created between her and Koschei and he's messing with her, not in a fun kind of way. I think he's preparing her, just like he said he did with Azriel.

Now, let's move on to parts Koschei's soul/essence-heritage (in Azriel's case) being inside Elain, Az and other objects.

“No one really knows the full scope of the Trove’s powers. Beyond freeing him from his lake, Koschei may very well know something about the Trove that we don’t—some greater power that manifests when all three are united.”

What Koschei might know, that other's don't, is that the Trove is in its core him, and that with it he will be truly unstoppable, a real God of Death, with his full powers and maybe something extra, since the objects were created in the Cauldron, thus restoring his soul in his body he will be some type of Made too.

It is said that the Trove has been used by Fae rulers as a way for them to establish and secure their rule (this seems like a plot hole to me in SJM's books actually or I wonder if it's actually misinformation started by Koschei and he was the only "ruler" who used them and none of the fae were made, at least, if they were it is not mentioned. Koschei, though, could be able to use them since part of his soul was in them, but not fully. Now, I'll continue building on the fact that they were indeed used by other fae rulers). What I suspect is that even though they were able to use these objects, they couldn't unlock their full potential, and neither does/will Koschei, because none of them are made. He might be able to access more of their power because his soul is in them, but he will still need someone Made.

Someone like Elain or Nesta.

In my line of thinking, Koschei needed people to go into the Cauldron, to be changed, made into something that combines both him and it, in order for them wield the Trove succesfully and free him from the lake. He may have tried it in the past with other humans, but was not successful, because in order to survive the person would need to already have magic in his blood. Maybe that's why Briallyn was turned into a crone, because she didn't possess magic.

I suspect that when Nesta gave back her power in order to save Feyre, the piece of Koschei's soul was guided back to him by the wind, or at least a large part of it. The same goes for Bryallin, but the whole part went back to Koschei because she died. And I do believe someone has to be dead, for him to get it all, and not leave behind a sliver.

Amren is also someone who went into the Cauldron, but I don't think she counts as something made, because she went as something other than human inside and gave up her own power instead of something she took/recieved from it. I could be wrong though. (In my mind, that scene with Amren is literally life, death, rebirth.)

Azriel, too, can only wield some part of the Trove and not the Trove as a whole thing, because he is not Cauldron-made.

*Again, this is just based on the assumption that there is a connection between him and Koschei. And that Elain has and the Trove have parts of his soul. I do not believe either Azriel or Elain are evil or will turn evil. So if someone who doesn't like Elriel and reads this, please don't twist my words out of context.*

The only one that remains is Elain.

She can locate the 4th Trove and wield it to its full power. She is the only one who can help Koschei and that's why he will target her and may have already started.

As for the objects, I think they have to be destroyed in order for Koschei to get his soul back. But maybe he doesn't want the soul back inside him, he just wants to have it back, hide it and control it to come back to his god-like status.

A thing that needs clearing up is what is L/cien's deal in all of this. Is really Elain's mate? I do not think so.

I think that Koschei manifactured the mating bond with L/cien to keep Elain and Azriel away from each other. I think he knew or could somehow sense that Az and Elain are mates, true mates, soulmates, and that if they accepted it, their bond would be stronger than his magic. What I didn't highlight before is that Feyre's mention of the Elriel painting makes me believe they're carranam. That scene is too significant to either be nothing at all or something of little importance.

Also, the Cauldron's power in the battlefield when it almost blasted Cassian in ACOWAR is described as "burning-light". That also factored into thinking that Elain has shadowfire/shadowlight.

And finally, what I think is the reason Koschei found a way to manipulate/trick Azriel.

From ACOWAR :

"Again, the Cauldron sang its siren song."

"You hear it?"

A shake of the head. "No - but the shadows, the wind...They recoil."

Did you read that? If that's not foreshadowing, I honest to god will scream my lungs out.

Azriel's shadows reacted to the Cauldron's song. Something that only those who are Made can hear. There might be some truth after all that a deeper connection between Azriel and Koschei exists.

Siren song. Siren. Song.

What new species were we introduced to in ACOSF? Lightsingers.

Who, for all intents and purposes, are described as what? As the modernized version of SIRENS.

Who do we know that has a strong, strong, strong assossiation with lovely singing, that puts people in a trance? And lures them in? Made people? People who one way or another Koschei wants to use? Who blabbed to Merill about the Trove? You guessed it! Gw/n.

This might be nothing, but it can also be everyhting.

It's not that farfetched to imagine Koschei having something to do with the Cauldron. Not what I said, but anything. And it's also not farfetched to say that G/wn is a lightsinger and Koshei is manipulating her (I actually believe that).

I claimed that there might be a part of Koschei's soul in the Cauldron, but he might be connected to it in some other way. It doesn't really matter right now. Let's continue with the assumption that indeed he controls it, where was one of the Cauldron's three feet hidden? At a temple in Sangravah. Who else was there? Gw/n.

If there is a link between Koschei and Cauldron, he's been whispering in Gw/n's ear since she was at the Temple. Otherwise, Merill is acting like a mediator or he found her another way. Her singing, that canonically put Nesta in a trance-like state, might be what Koschei uses to trick Azriel.

“I spend so many months preparing for you,” Koschei crooned, “and you don’t even wish to speak to me?”

He spent months preparing him? How? What is the one thing that changed in Azriel's life when we read about him? He started training Nesta and her friends. Maybe Gw/n was supposed to do something to him. Maybe she already did it. Maybe she has his shadows in dazed and hazy state. Or she will.

“Eyes can be blinded,” Nesta said.

“Not the ones under my command,” Azriel said with soft menace.

Was that quote Sarah telling us that his shadows - his eyes - will be outsmarted and fooled? And that he will find a way to break whatever "curse"/"spell" that is?

Before anyone asks : No, I don't hate Gw/n. No, I don't think she will be evil. Yes, I do believe she's a lightsinger. Yes, I do think Koschei is using her. No, I don't have to hate her to think that. Yes, I actually like Gw/n, canon Gw/n, not the other one that lives on Tumblr, Twitter, IG, and Goodreads.

For the antis out there : the Cauldron sings too, maybe that's Azriel's mate, because you know...singing...

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yourlocalartsonist · 1 year

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ROTTMNT Moths Fly In Packs - Chapter One

A/N: HI I’M FINALLY POSTING THE FIRST CHAPTER. Really excited and super nervous but I’m SO happy I can finally share this with everyone. I’m not doing a drawing for every chapter since that’d be selling my soul to the red dilf down below but this is the first chapter so I figured why not do something special. Also apologies if any of the characters seem ooc, I’m still learning how to write them so it might take a bit (especially the dialogue). Also also, sorry if the formatting seem weird, I just copy pasted a google doc into Tumblr and I haven’t entirely figured out how this app works yet. ANYWHIZZLE despite all that I hope y’all enjoy and I can’t wait to write more ^^

Next Chapter

Masterlist

Disclaimer: chapter involves themes of manipulation, violence, and curse words. If you’re sensitive to that stuff, scroll past and stay safe <3

—

I looked out the window and sighed. Today could have been a lot worse, sure, but it also could’ve been a whole lot better.

It was one am on a Monday night. Staying up this late this early in the week is gonna guarantee a begrudgingly painful school life till Friday. And yet, here I was, staring at my phone at his texts.

Zane: Hey! You were active on insta. How come you didn’t text back?

Zane: hey it’s been an hour now. I’m starting to worry about you

Zane: Salena are you ignoring me? I already said I was sorry

Zane: fine then. Don’t text me. But at least talk to me tomorrow. I miss you.

Zane: Goodnight.

He was getting clingier by the day. Last month when he asked me out, I was worried rejecting him would break his heart. Somehow, it looks like it had the opposite effect and boosted his ego since he’s only gotten more pushy after that. I mean today he picked a fight with a guy just for talking to me. It’s getting ridiculous.

I groaned and hopped off bed to get a drink of water. I know I should probably forgive him, I’m sure he’s just coping differently maybe. It’ll get better with time. I hope it gets better with time. Otherwise the next four months are gonna be excruciatingly long. Still, I can’t just not be mad after what he did.

As I lamented in my depressive thoughts, I saw four figures out the window, running from rooftop to rooftop. Smiling, I opened the window and let the cool air and the joyous voices flow in. At least one good thing’s coming out from today.

It looked like they were chasing someone, a giant pig man specifically. I would’ve been more freaked out if this was the first human-animal thing I saw.

The very first time I saw one was a giant bull in a bellboy uniform running along the sidewalk, clumsily knocking anything and everything over as he wept. I assumed my sleep deprived brain was probably making things up again but the sheer absurdity of it paired with the fact that my sleep schedule was actually decent that week, I began to question that guess. Then, only ten minutes later, seeing four human-sized turtles walking upright seemingly searching for the bull man sealed the deal that I could not be making this shit up.

But that was two or three years ago. Now, it’s more of a fun surprise seeing the new animal person of the week than a sanity-questioning spiral. Most often, I see the turtles passing by. Sometimes they’re goofing off or skateboarding. Other times, they’re chasing someone like right now. I can only assume the pig man is evil if he’s being chased by them. I know the turtles are good since I suspect they’re the “mysterious heroes” that saved New York from that-which-shall-not-be-named a few months back. I mean, who else could it be?

Even if they’re chasing a potential murderous lunatic, they seem like they’re having fun. They’re all smiling and laughing and whizzing around everywhere, just looking at them gives me an adrenaline rush.

I stared out the window longingly as they zipped by, disappearing into the night. Maybe the late night was getting to my brain, but things just felt worse than usual this time. I’ve been watching these four go by my window at least once a week for so long. They always look so fun to be around. Free-spirited and zany, the exact opposite of everyone in my life. Maybe I really am going insane but for once I just want to know them, to see them up close. And if I’m feeling particularly crazy, I might even say hello.

I found my body edging closer and closer out the window. The fire-escape does lead all the way down, and I’m only on the sixth floor anyway. It’s not exactly a fast distance to the ground but it wouldn’t be too bad if I run…

Before I knew it, I was already out dashing in their direction to catch up. I’ve only ever dreamed of having enough courage to actually attempt this. If my aunt finds out I snuck out my grave will be dug and that’s not an exaggeration.

Yet somehow, that didn’t stop me. My skin felt numb from the cold wind, my hair was going crazy behind me. I felt pain in my cheeks from how much I was smiling. I guess I am feeling particularly crazy tonight.

***

By the time I caught up with them, I was embarrassingly out of breath. They were now all ground level in an alleyway and I was hiding just around the corner, close enough to listen in. A little nervous if they can hear my hideous dying dog pants, not just because it would blow my cover but also for the sake of my prestige. They seem a little too distracted by the pig man to notice me, though.

“Alright, meathead! Give us the poison, or I’m gonna smash your head into the wall and keep smashing till I smash the wall down with my smashy little fists!”

Note to self: the red one likes smashing.

“Oh get stuffed you annoying little rats! Can’t a guy sabotage his rival chef’s excuse of a business in peace?”

“GASP! He’s defaming rats!”

They broke out into a fight over what looked to be a large bag of, assumedly, poison. The pig man’s tentacle arms were whipping all over the place, trying to land a blow on the turtles. Oh and apparently his arms can extend which I would find cool if it weren’t for how gross it looked. It’s all drippy and squishy-looking and weird, not a texture I’d want to be near.

I won’t lie, I was kind of distracted from the danger I put myself in since being this close allowed me to properly see the turtles fight. At first glance it looks like they’re flailing all over the place, but it’s actually in a more cohesive way. The blue turtle teleported around and sliced the tentacles attacking them, the red one went in for a punch with giant fists at any opening. Purple guy had glowing guns in his signature color all shooting at the same time and the orange turtle swung around hitting pig man with any object his fiery chains landed on. My god was I awestruck watching them all in action. I was so busy gawking I barely even registered the magic weapons.

One of the flame chains got a hold of his leg and sent the pig guy flying backwards, losing grip of his poison bag.

“Heads up!” The blue one yelled as the bag soared through the air. All the turtles attempted catching it while the pig man’s tentacle arm followed close behind the bag. It looked like it was about to be body horror Peppa Pig’s win.

So I stepped out and grabbed the bag before he could. All eyes now on me, I made a run for it in the other direction realizing how exposed I was. Behind me I could hear a confused “Who was that?” sounding like it was from the purple guy.

Yeah, sure, maybe this wasn’t the smartest move but if I’m getting myself involved I might as well be useful.

I’d break in and out of thought every time I crashed into a wall or slid on the ground. I was never exactly known for my clearly graceful nature. My body started aching. Still I kept running, only stopping to throw a rock or two at one of the stringy pink arms behind me. Seriously, why does that dude have to be so puke-worthy.

A silver blur sped right past my head. The glowing sword stopped in front of me and a familiar blue turtle appeared out of thin air.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

As much as I pride myself on reflexes, the initial shock didn’t wear off fast enough to prevent me from crashing into him and falling back on the ground. I barely had an impact on him, though, since he was still standing perfectly fine with a hand on his hip and the other gripping his weapon.

“Look pal, I have been heroing all week and as much as I love fighting villains and looking badass, I say we make this fast and you just tell me who sent you.”

“S-sent me?” It took me a while to catch on. Not my best day, I know.

“Oh, no no no! I'm not working for anyone! I was trying to help. See?”

I held out the bag towards him, hoping that would convince him I’m not a threat. To my surprise, instead of taking it, he squinted his eyes and me and crouched down to match my height.

“You know, you look kinda familiar. Have we met before?..”

I was too stunned to respond.

Back when I first saw the turtles, after seeing the human bull, I overheard them talking about him and wanting to find him. The blue one especially, he seemed extremely guilty about something. I figured I’d help but I wasn’t brave enough to just go up to them and tell them I saw the bull. I’m too shy to even approach regular humans, these were talking anthropomorphic turtles. So instead I threw a note down and it bounced off blue’s head. He looked at it, read it, then looked up at me. I poked my head out from behind the fire escape and gave an awkward wave, trying to let him know I was on their side. It worked since he directed his team towards where I wrote the bull man went.

I remember later that same night, he knocked on my window. I was a bit freaked out admittedly and hid away by instinct. I wasn’t exactly expecting to see them again.

“Oookay. Well.” I could tell he wasn’t sure how to deal with me. I was regretting hiding but my legs were frozen in place.

“I don’t know if you can hear me since the window’s closed but I wanted to say thanks for the note. We found our guy way faster than we would’ve if we kept having to use Raph’s ideas.” He let out a playful chuckle.

I felt my heart melt a little. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t really that. I don’t usually hear things like that often.

“So yeah uh, if you can still hear me, thank you.”

My legs started working again as I heard him leap off to leave. I opened the window and rushed out to the fire escape. Luckily, he was on the ground not too far away from me. I called out to him.

“Salena!”

He turned around and saw me. “What?”

I beamed brighter and yelled again.

“My name is Salena!”

“Salena?” His voice brought me back to present day.

“You remember me?”

He let out a cheery laugh. “Of course I remember you! I told you, your note was the only reason we found Bullhop so fast that day.”

“But that was years ago.” I sighed in disbelief as he helped me to my feet.

“And? No face has ever escaped ol’ Neon Leon’s noggon!” He proudly pointed to his brain. I debated telling him the word was noggin.

We heard voices in the distance.

“PUNCHING LIKE A BOSS!!”

“I SWEAR ONE DAY I’LL TURN YOU ALL INTO STEW!”

“GUYS! He wants to turn me into stew!”

“Mikey, that’s not a good thing.”

“Says you! I’d make a delicious stew, thank you very much, Dee!”

“Welp, duty calls! Let’s get you to safety.” With that, he opened a blue portal and pulled me through it to a nearby rooftop. So his swords can teleport and open portals??

“You think you can keep this bag with you?”

I managed to nod.

He gave a smirk and stepped back through his portal to rejoin the battle.

“Leo! Where’s the bag?”

“And the person who stole the bag?” I could still hear red and purple speak.

“Relax, they’re a friend, they’re keeping the bag safe.”

“A new friend?! OMIGOSH!!” Orange seemed excited

The fight picked up fiercer than before. It was hard to keep up with the turtles and the chaos of their weapons. Orange flames, purple lasers, sheathing metal. The ground shook at every red flash. All the while, the air filled with lively laughter and jokes.

Pig man wasn’t going down easy, either. He pounded his giant spiky mallet, probably matching the force of red’s hits. I know they’re experienced fighters and all, but I felt a bit useless sitting around and doing nothing. I looked around for some way I could help.

Luckily, something caught my attention. On the left side of the roof, I could see a pile of bricks laying around. More than perfect for knocking out a mutant. Now the question is how to get them down.

I saw a flash of blue out the corner of my eye.

Bingo.

Screaming at the top of my lungs, hoping my voice wouldn’t be drowned out, I called out to him.

“Blue! Hey, blue up here!”

He followed my voice to where I was, looking a bit confused and worried I was giving myself away.

I pointed to the brick in my hand. “Make a portal on top of him!”

I saw his face light up as he understood my plan. “Great idea!”

As he dashed off, a blue portal opened near me. I rushed around the roof, grunting as I pushed the bricks in. Blue threw a sword in the air, appeared right above the pig, and opened the other side of the portal, letting all the bricks rain down on him. They all looked a bit surprised seeing around 8 or 10 bricks hit him on the head, blue included. Yeah, sure, maybe pushing all of them in was a bit overkill but seeing how crazy powerful this guy was, I didn’t want to risk it.

And boy, was he out cold. The four turtles made their way up the roof, I presume to get the bag of poison.

I glanced back down at the pig “So like…he’s not dead is he?”

“Meatsweats? Nah that guy’s handled way worse.” Blue said strangely casually. “Good thinking with the bricks, btdubs.”

I’d appreciate the compliment more but I was still struggling to figure out what could possibly be worse than bricks to the head.

“Yeah, thanks for your help back there with the poison, too.” red rubbed his neck and gave a sweet smile. For a big guy he seems awfully friend-shaped.

“I’m Raph. These are my brothers Leo, Mikey, and Donnie.” Leo struck a pose, Mikey waved like his life depended on it, and Donnie…well he was just on his phone with his shell turned towards me. It’s a cool shell, at least. I never noticed it wasn’t a real one before.

“I’m Salena. Nice to meet you all.”

People used to tell me I ask too many questions so I got into the habit of just keeping my tongue bit. But I would’ve exploded if I didn’t seize the moment today to find out what the hell was going on. I’m bad at social situations, anyway, might as well be on purpose.

“So if you don’t mind me asking…What are you? How do you exist? Where’d you get your weapons? Did you make your shell yourself? Who was that guy? Can I see what’s in this bag?”

“AHEM! I’m glad you asked!” Donnie turned his attention towards me, dramatically answering my questions. “We, weird human, are the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (trademark). And yes, my battle shell is indeed Genius Built technology. Made this baby when I was twelve.”

“We’re mutant turtles!-”

“Literally just said that in the name Micheal”

“Still think Mad Dogz was better.”

“-And we were made in Draxum’s lab to take over the world back when he was going through his ‘bad boy’ phase but we ended up being heroes instead. Pretty cool right?”

“Hey, inquiry for you actually, why’d you help us anyway?”

I awkwardly answered Donnie, telling them about my luck of random mutants frequently passing by my window. Apparently some of them were Yōkai, Raph said there was a whole Hidden City of them and a doorway leading to it near where I lived. I was a little surprised at how happy they all looked listening to me talk. Usually I’d be told to shut up by now so this was a nice change of pace.

“What happened to your arm?” Leo pointed to the wound on my forearm.

“Oh. That explains why it felt so sore. I guess I scraped against a wall or something? It’s fine, though, I’ll patch it up when I get home.”

“No way. You helped us, we help you. Let the professional do his magic.”

Leo took out some supplies from his pouch. I sat on the edge and let him work on my arm while the rest - mostly Donnie - info dumped their stories to me. At first it was a way to distract me from the initial sting of my cuts being cleaned but it wasn’t long until they got carried away with their storytelling. They told me about their mutation at the lab, how they found out, their two dads and other human friends. The oozequitoes, as they called them, were what made them and all the other mutants. It’s crazy to think these guys were made as literal military weapons considering they’re now wacky vigilantes.

“Voilà! Look and be amazed!”

“Woah! You weren’t kidding when you said professional.” I admired Leo’s bandaging on my arm. It was clean and neat, tight enough to be secure but not turning my fingers blue or anything. Much better job than I would’ve done.

The full moon was beautiful tonight. Unfortunately, it reminded me where I should be at this time.

“Well, I’m really enjoying talking to guys but I should probably go home. I don’t even wanna know how late it is”

“What? But can’t you stay a little longer?” Mikey, who was practically vibrating this whole time, suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He looked so dejected it made my heart hurt. Raph attempted to comfort him.

“They probably have school Mike. Maybe we can hang out another time, if you’re up for it?”

“REALLY- I mean, yes, yeah. That sounds lovely!” Stay civil, Salena.

“Hey before you go, you should really try one of these.” Leo opened the poison bag and took out a pizza puff? “They are absolutely delicious.”

Poison or not, pizza puff’s a pizza puff.

“NO!“ Unfortunately, Raph slapped the treat out of my hand before I could plop it in my mouth.

We bid our farewells and Mikey handed me a paper with their numbers on it paired with some cute doodles of them. After telling him where to go, Leo opened a portal to my room. I know you’re not supposed to tell strangers your address and it did feel a little weird but a portal was the fastest way home. No way I’m hoofing it this late in the night. I love New York but not that much.

Sitting on my bed now, I observed the blue turtle as he was getting ready to go back. The red stripes around his eyes made me realize he was a red-eared slider, I read about them back when I was six or seven I think.

“Hey Leo?”

“Yeah?”

I smiled. “It was nice running into you again.”

He gave his signature smirk “Funny how life works, ay?”

He waved and fell back into his portal. I closed my eyes for a bit, then grabbed my sketchbook.

Placing Mikey’s doodles on a blank page, I wrote down their respective eye colors.

Green, brown, yellow, blue.

—

Next Chapter | Salena Moni

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catboii · 5 months

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((just a "little" (ha) update I guess, nothing major, just a note that I'm sorry if I post alot this week with seemingly no regard for my/my muse's vast presence on the dash, or if I end up writing alot of short weird drabbles to vent.... if there's questionable stuff it'll be tagged like always <3

I understand if you need to unfollow me to keep your dash clear for other people if you're mobile etc. or if you need to blacklist my muse's url for a bit if it's overwhelming

After xmas everything may have settled and if you wanna refollow then I'd welcome you back and wouldn't ask any questions. your comfort (whatever that may classify as in the context) is my utmost priority!

normally I try not to clutter, and I try to keep general post reblogs minimal and just queue most of them. I'm just... not doing too good rn

then again it's a 50/50 that I'll be posting nothing at all, just making my muse's presence known if it wants to sorta wave at someone from the depths of my brain hell jail.

I'll still be checking in around xmas stuff bc this muse gives me v happy bubbly vibes whenever I write it and that's honestly what I need rn.

I'm sorry if your muse reblogs/replies to one of mine's posts or smth and I seemingly glance over it. I genuinely just didn't see it. I always try and respond to stuff, or if it doesn't know how to reply I at least acknowledge that my muse saw it by liking it. but I might not have the mental capacity to actually keep up w stuff

...

BASICALLY I'm either gonna be kinda quiet or rly hyperfixated on not being in my own head for the next week or so.

I'm obv stressed anyway bc I need to do xmas shopping still and it's a struggle bc online it probs won't come in time. we're going "late night shopping" on thursday though so hopefully we can get a bunch of stuff then

but mainly an old work friend of mine passed away today. He's been unwell for a few years, and I dunno if he knew what it was and was just keeping it quiet, or if they genuinely couldn't work it out. last I heard he was getting MRIs.

I had a complicated relationship w him (positive) bc he was either bipolar or had BPD like me (although he wasn't diagnosed with either, but it was obvious he at least had bipolar), and if you know anything abt BPD you know what an FP (favourite person) is, and we were sort of each other's when we were working together? I think. like I say he wasn't diagnosed, but it felt like that. we hit it off really quick and were both really comfortable with each other, and he was just the sweetest most supportive person. he was one of my FPs, which basically means my brain was cursed to be in intense friendlove with him. He would tell me that he loved me and appreciated my friendship, was always saying you need to tell people you love them, however you can, however you mean it, because you don't know if you'll ever get to tell them again

he always showed off the little things I made him and made sure everyone knew exactly where he got the silly little origami animals on his desk, or who made his juggling balls that were his favourite thing in the whole world bc I made them for him by hand, and picked the fabric out specifically for him.

One time around xmas, bc of covid, we had these big plastic screen dividers between our desks and I used posca paint pens to draw him a HUGE Robin in a scarf and santa hat (his name was Robin and people always got him little Robin themed things, he loved them) on the one by his manager desk, like a name tag, but Facilities told him he needed to clean it off and chastised him thinking he did it, and you're "not supposed to vandalise work equipment" even though they're literally washable and it was xmas. we were sticking decorations everywhere, how is it any different? but he played along but he was really mad. He didn;t wanna say it was me that did it, because he thought I might've gotten in trouble, but he also wanted to argue that I'd put alot of work into it. I hadn't put that much in, it was just for fun and I liked drawing it, and he got to see it! That was the important part. and I said so. but I cleaned it off and drew him a new Robin on a piece of paper and he kept it at his desk like a retired picket sign, and told the story to anyone who would be polite enough to listen

mostly though, he gendered me correctly (and he was in his 60s so being so passionate abt they/them pronouns was just really sweet, though he was clearly bi but still in the closet, so it was maybe a little projection, in a way, or just straight up quiet queer solidarity), and literally agressively made sure everyone else did too, when he realised I'd been just letting people at work use whatever pronouns, he got really proactive and made sure all my paperwork was marked as "them" officially (with my permission). if anyone misgenered me he would get visably annoyed or disgusted, and there were a couple people who "forgot" (every time) and he actually got angry at them about it and reported them for harassment, which might've been a little extreme, but I honestly felt so validated, and I'm tearing up thinking about it. I don't think anyone's ever fought that hard in my corner, especially after only knowing me for, at that point, less than a year.

We worked together in a couple different parts of the business for a couple years, until some stuff happened that I shouldn't say bc I need my rp blog(s) to stay far away from my professional life, but we were gonna be working together doing something else, but it wasn't his thing, it was stressful and there were other reasons, but he just lost it and walked out.

we had a little joke when we were training before he left, he had this soft toy robin that he let me borrow because I was really anxious, and I gave it a little notepad and pencil and wrote something silly on it for when he got it back each time. usually some out of context joke on what we learned that day, so we could both laugh about it. but when he left I still had it, and I messaged him saying I would get it back to him sometime, but he said to keep it to remind me of him.

I put it away to keep it safe, but I'm gonna have to go and find it, because it's one of the only physical things I have left of him.

#ooc post.#.vat file #rl illness ment-#rl death ment-#readmore.#I think I'm ok for now. I'm sorry about the stuff mentioned at the top but I'm not sorry this post is so long. for once.#you don't have to read it. but if you do? then hey. thanks. we're besties now.#I had a little rant about him and it's cathartic but I'm trying not to break down tbh #I think just expressing how much I loved him helps. he was just. so pure and wholesome in reality.#always showing how much he appreciated people...

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asksoldieron · 30 days

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SO-24: Whatever Happened to Poor John?

If there's a lot of engagement on this, this post is liable to get real long, beware before you expand.

No art, but I am working on it and I will add it retroactively. The eyes are letting me draw, just real slow.

Welcome to the Engagement Lounge, for La Goualante du Pauvre John (253|24) an instalment! Short comments can go in the replies, but there's a 475 character limit. Longer ones will need a reblog. Remember to @asksoldieron if you're reblogging someone else's reblog, so I can see it too!

Woo! We just got back from a 2 night stay on a houseboat, it was definitely trying to kill us (I'll do a post on the main blog later, I have so many scary pictures), and we loved it anyway. So I'm distracted, but I did manage to unwind a little. No wifi, only phones! But I think I got pretty much everything formatted OK before we left. We'll see!

Now it's time to back up and see what happened to John after he smacked into the Elysium Inn's glass door and escaped into the wild! His friends picked him up and they're ready to do more terrorism together! ...Well, maybe in a little bit. They all need a break to unwind, too, but they're not gonna get it. Jenny will put her big brother back together as best she can, but she's going to be a little irritated with Erik and Co. and everyone else who allowed him to break down that badly.

And we end on a cliffhanger! The "real spy" is suddenly revealed! Unfortunately, that'll be all you get for about two months, unless I can put something cool together for our birthday in April. It's doubtful.

The spouse and I are about to have the most stressful two months of the year (probably... hopefully). He's got to prep for his CPA exam, which is 8+ hours of testing over multiple days. They will require him to do two practice cases a week, timed, the longest of which will take 5 hours. We expect adding that much fake accountant business on top of his actual job and everything else we gotta do will fry his brain. And there's the added stress that the test costs thousands of dollars. If the unlikely happens and he fails this time, taking it again will hurt. We can swing it, but it'll hurt.

It looks like his current employer has his back, though. The capitalist exploitation is different up here! A promotion to a better-paying position that will qualify for the experience he needs to be a full CPA (he needs 2.5 years) is in the works. If he gets it, he can stay with them, and they'll pick up his school costs. His dream job is still doing actual, meaningful work for a nonprofit of some kind, but he can hack this one for another 2.5 years if necessary. As long as we can still afford food and housing! I think we can. The whole immigration thing seems a bit backed up, but when we're allowed to own property, we can afford a floating house like that houseboat we stayed at. Not exactly like it, dear god no, but similar. That may be what our future holds.

But we gotta make it to June, first! I have no idea what my internet life will look like or how often you'll see me, but I'll try to get some stuff done. Hopefully, I can come back with another six, illustrated, as soon as the stress abates. Thank you for your patience until then!

[Back to Site?]

#tin soldier and soldier on #instalment #engagement lounge

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spacedlexi · 2 years

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I gotta ask, where did Clem get that jacket! Also it would seem like a good choice of upper body wear protection as other than literal metal, it’s a good protection during an apocalypse as leather is one of the toughest materials that someone can wear, which is why bikers wear them.

Anyways, I absolutely love the style and I assume, and correct me if I’m wrong but is that a walking stick in clem’s hand? Also did they craft a second bow or am i just having a brain fart as it has been a while since i last played TWDG, with my main memories usually being Violentine moments.

My final thing is that i love how you put the pin clem gets after going on Violet’s stargazing date? Imma just call it a date. I often see art that don’t really include the pin or just use the orange pin Violet can also give Clem. Amazing art btw! Love how you show that Clem and Violet can both kill you while also being dorks in love.

i think after everything died down with the delta fight, the kids would eventually make their way back there to scavenge for any supplies that survived the explosion. it was a huge boat with enough supplies to last a large group of people a decent amount of time (we know the delta home base isnt exactly close). i think the kids would be able to scavenge quite a bit of stuff, and its where clem picks up the new jacket. ive mentioned it in one of my past replies but i think clem wouldve taken to heart jane telling her that she needs a nice leather jacket for protection. ive also mentioned before that clems s4 jacket being a denim biker jacket made no sense because bikers dont wear leather for nothing... she deserves her cool leather biker jacket. i think she wouldve gotten excited about a find like that

and yes it is a walking stick :) she cant use crutches forever so once the kids make her a prosthetic i think she'd start picking up the habit of collecting a few nice branches as walking sticks. i like to think she'd have one for hanging out around ericson, and one for being outside that she coils barbed wire around (i got the idea from her i think road to survival? model? where they put barbed wire around her crutches and she used them as a weapon i thought that was a cool idea but again she cant use those forever). ALSO i think she'd still remember the story lee told her about his dad using his cane around the store so i think it would give her some form of comfort. i think she'd use her cane around ericsons the same way lees dad did around the drug store

also yes there was another bow at ericsons that both violet and willy have used. violet only used marlons bow a few times shes mostly seen with the other one and it seems when she doesnt have it willy does. im not sure if any other character is shown with it (idr which bow is used when hunting with aasim)

also how could i forget the pin 🥺 i cant Not draw it and im very mindful about it. its just so cute that vi isnt really into arts and crafts but made it for clem anyway 🥺. like did she go back to her room that night and just stay up making it. im sure she couldnt sleep after everything that happened. and with the way shes always so hard on herself for not saving everyone, and when she tells clem she wont let minnie get her (or aj or anyone else), i think the pin is a bit of a symbol of vi being prepared to do whatever she needs to to keep them safe. and i like to give post s4 clem and vi matching pins since it seems to be their Thing

#they are bow wielding gfs #replies with lexi #choatic-strawberry #twdg #violentine

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topknotstrunk · 1 year

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Review Everything 30 - Sweet Tooth, Season 1

It has been a good, long while since there was a post-Apocalyptic thing I really liked has been airing.

Which is unfortunate because that’s the genre that originally got me seriously into worldbuilding, which is now one of the things that’s most important to me and I spend a lot of time doing.

Gus is an interesting protagonist for this genre. We’ve had Kids to The Apocalypse Before [one of my all time faves is The Girl Who Owned a City, Green Angel by Alice Hoffman stuck with me when I first read it as a pre-teen, The Hunger Games is a series I have mixed feelings about but was wildly popular, and I’d argue that The Last Of Us falls into this category too, and it’s pretty widely loved] but I don’t know if we’ve had boundless optimist kid being the protagonist like this. At least, not in anything I’ve seen/read.

Gus sort of feels like an anime protagonist in a weird way, like the main boy in a Shonen anime. Sure, he has his moments of fear, and doubt, but ultimately he’s going to have his mind set on the most hopeful outcome and push to get there no matter what.

I find an element of this slightly grating, though. Gus never seems to learn anything from these situations he throws himself into. He picked up some farm steadying skills with his Pubba and can feed himself [we never have seen food be an issue for him so far, though he always eats like it’s the first food he’s seen in weeks he also never complains of hunger or has flagging energy due to lack of food]. No matter how many times charging head first into a situation put him in danger, head first he continues to charge. Same thing for trusting people. Despite the world outside his little homestead showing itself, and plainly, to be dangerous to Gus he continues to act as if he’s a little boy alone in the woods with only people who love him to concern himself with.

The reason I find this odd is that I jumped into this show without really knowing what it was. I have been lamenting not having “a show” because all my favorite cartoons got canceled or cut short basically all at the same time recently. A reviewer I like offhandedly mentioned, “And hey, season 2 of Sweet Tooth is airing, so go watch that.” Then an ASL interpreter I follow shared a scene from season 2 that’s ASL heavy and I went, “Oh yeah, I should watch this.” From those two tiny exposures to the show I had no idea there were other characters that the movie would follow, or that most of them would be adults. I thought it was gonna be a kid’s show. It’s not! A character being static in something aimed at children is, for me, more forgivable then something aimed at older audiences. Which this show clearly is. Though Gus is ten and the show shies away from almost all sexual content and the fights are almost entirely bloodless, the subject matter and heavy focus on adult characters might bore kids Gus’ age. So I hope season 2 shows some growth for the kid beyond, “Wow, so everything isn’t on fire. Now let’s explore!”

I talk a lot in these reviews, I feel like, about my ability, or not, to guess at where a story is going. It’s just a thing my brain does when I consume media. To the point where, when I was a kid, I had guessed right one to many times and my Family forbade me from saying my guesses out loud. My gasp of realization less than halfway through a movie would draw glares from my family at family movie nights. I was even given a notebook to keep my thoughts to myself in for movie watching. They’re fun people. *eyeroll* All this to say, I didn’t find myself doing that much with this show. The reveal of Gus being patient zero, as it were, made sense, in a “Huh, I feel like I should have seen this coming” kind of way. I had been thinking, and only for that episode, that Birdie was gonna be patient zero, and give birth to Gus as the first hybrid kid. The only “called it” moment I had was like, 30 seconds before it’s revealed who Wendy was to Bear, when we see the back of her head as a little kid. That usually means the show is written well and doing its job, being too interesting for me to analyze in real time. Having too good a time with the show and being to distracted by how annoying Gus can be to make many guesses. XD

Something I find super interesting the the choices in how the hybrids look. I feel like characters that are important and that we’re supposed to empathize with the most are the “most cute” and most Human. Like, Gus has the tapetum lucidum thing going on, sure, but otherwise he’s a cute kid with deer horns and ears. There are about a billion OCs you could find on DeviantArt that look pretty much the same. He’s the deer version of a Cat Girl. Same thing for Wendy. But then we have, for example, the first character we see the new Doctor operate on and he’s got these big, ugly lizard eyes bugging out of his face, with the top part of his face being totally un-Human, with lizard tongue movements and animal like behavior. All the hybrid kids seem to have /some/ animalistic tendencies, but like, I feel like “we’re gonna cut you up now” might hit a bit harder if the lizard kid just had a little patch of scales and a normal kid face like Gus and Wendy have. IDK though, maybe that’s the point? They seem less Human so those scenes won’t be as upsetting.

Anyway, I’m really interested to know if there’s a reason some kids are cute animal gijinkas and some lean way more to the Cronenberg side of the “humans combined with animals” spectrum. Even if it’s just, “Genetics, some kids get more animal half, some get more Human half.” I’m SUPER not interested in quantifying the reasons and details of “weird deer shit”. I don’t want to know if lizard kids are exothermic if more than 30% of their bodies are covered in scales, I don’t wanna know if wolf kids need to eat an all carnivore diet if their teeth are sharp instead of flat, that shit. The show has some neat fantastical elements, I am happy to chalk up “their physiology is the way that it is” to “because”.

My only real critiques of the show so far are that the effects can be a little hokey, mostly the deer and other normal animals that show up, and that the kid acting can be well... Bad kid acting. Gus does okay most of the time but I have a real hard time feeling upset for him when he’s upset. He’s not great at fake big fear or fake crying, which are two things important to the story that he has to emote fairly regularly. Stefania LaVie Owen is doing an amazing job though, and so is Naledi Murray.

Looking forward to season 2. I like Birdie a lot and want to know more about her. I’d also like to hear about how Pubba felt taking Gus out into the wild, thinking she’d come, only she never showed up. I wanna see Wendy and Bear reunited. I also wanna know why almost every character in this show has a nickname or chosen name. Sweet Tooth, Big Man, Pubba, Bear, Pig Tail, Birdie, is this a thing the creator/s like or is there some meaning to it? I also really wanna know if our narrator is Gus all grown up.

In Summary: Cool world building, fresh take on the apocalypse [bold move making a plague movie while we’re still having a plague], a fun mix of science inspired story ideas and fantasy ones, I love me a good found family, animal kids are goofy but neat, and I wanna see more.

Overall: 6/10

#review everything - tv #review everything #sweet tooth #spoilers #gifs #tv shows #TK's content #not queued

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