#what? Tutu dances I draw

[rileyslibrary]

hello! So you know about those like music boxes with the ballerinas on top? what if reader has a plain music box and decides to put a mini painted simon riley on it and reader gets caught playing with the custom music box

Please and thank you!

There you go, anon! Hope you like it!

———————————————————————

You recline on your assigned bed, head cradled in one hand while the other fiddles with the box in front of you. Work has been sluggish lately—a good thing, considering the nature of your job. Yet, despite the break, your hands ache for the action they’ve been accustomed to—pulling triggers, disarming bombs, rescuing comrades and civilians. Now, they remain idle, bored, and without purpose.

For that reason, you finally decided to address a long-delayed project you’ve postponed for ages: restoring your grandmother’s worn-down ballerina music box. Time has taken its toll on it, with splinters jutting from the once-smooth surface. The paint, once vibrant, had either chipped away in places or surrendered entirely, leaving bare patches to the sides and on the lid. Even the ballerina inside, once gracefully twirling, had been frozen in time. It begged for your attention and care.

And that’s exactly what you did.

You fixed the mechanism inside, stripped away the original paint, sanded the box down and diligently repainted it, using whatever colours you managed to salvage—some leftover black varnish that had been used to paint the fence around the base, green paint from the mechanics who use it for the military vehicles and a ghastly olive hue colour you have no idea of its purpose, nor you want to know.

As you turn the key, the music box releases its familiar melody, drawing your attention to the figure twirling within. Gone is the ballerina’s delicate face. Now it’s replaced by a meticulously painted skull balaclava closely resembling Ghost. The once pink bodysuit has transformed into a scaled-down tactical vest with detailed features, mirroring the real deal—knives, magazines, and even a tourniquet secured on the shoulder. The ballerina’s bare legs now sport camo leggings, and her ballet shoes have been upgraded to sturdy combat boots. The tutu couldn’t be removed since it was part of the ballerina’s body, so you left it as it was and painted it black.

You turn the key again and let it go, watching the lieutenant twirl. Your gaze is fixed on the figure as you find yourself entranced, occasionally poking at the lieutenant’s hand to halt the motion and releasing it to begin twirling again.

And as you do it one more time, the door opens, and the real, life-sized lieutenant pokes his head through the opening. He scans the entire room until it settles on you

“Is it you making that noise?” he asks.

“Noise?” you ask back. “That’s Swan Lake by Tchaikovsky.”

“I don’t care what it is,” he replies. “Either turn it off or turn the volume down.”

“Well, I can’t turn the volume down,” you say, pointing at the box.

“I gave you two options if I remember correctly,” he says, tilting his head to the side. He narrows his eyes, now focused on the box, and approaches the bed with his hand extended towards you. “Give me that.”

“No!” You retort and hug the box close to your chest. “Why should I give it to you?”

“Because I said so,” he whispers, pointing with his finger. “Now. Give. Me. The. Box.”

You sigh and roll your eyes but comply with his demand. You close the box, which triggers the music to stop and hand it over to Ghost.

He holds it to his side for a second, then lifts it to his eye level. He looks at it all around and, with a swift motion, lifts the lid.

The music starts playing again, and the mini-lieutenant resumes his little dance. Ghost stands there with the box in his hands, watching the figurine until it stops moving. He looks at you, then at the box. He turns the box towards you so you can look at the figurine and points at it.

“That’s me,” he states, triggering three nods from you.

“I was bored,” you explain, shrugging, “so I decided to refurbish my grandma’s antique ballerina box with whatever I found at the base.”

“I can see that,” he whispers, turning around the box. “Maintenance support didn’t have a colour closer to fuchsia?”

“Unfortunately, no,” you reply, following his sarcastic tone. “They ran out.”

“Poor grandma and poor ballerina,” he says, pointing again at his mini-self. “Why did you turn her into that?”

“What do you mean ‘into that’?” you ask, pointing at the box. “That’s you.”

“Exactly!” he exclaims, turning the box around to look at the figurine better. “Plus, it doesn’t look like me at all.”

“Why?” you ask, wincing. “Is it the tutu?”

“No,” he says, slowly looking at you and tilting his head. “What gave you that impression?”

You chuckle at his response. “What is it then?”

He holds the box to the side so you can look at the figurine and himself.

“Look,” he says, spreading his other hand to the side. “It’s too skinny to be me.”

“Hmmm, I can’t tell from where I’m sitting…” you murmur, scratching your chin as you examine both of them. “How about you make a quick pirouette for me?”

“How about I make you pirouette all the way to the Captain?” He asks, as he lifts one eyebrow and closes the box.

He motions with his other hand at you to stand up. “Get ready for training,” he states and shakes the box. “This comes with me.”

“No, Lt.!” You shout, “That’s mine!”

“Well, it has my bloody face in there, doesn’t it?” He says. “Plus, I can’t have you playing that music in the base; it’s scaring the others.”

“Scaring the others?” You protest, and your eyes widen. “I’m scaring grown-ass men who kill for a living?”

“Not you,” he replies as he walks towards the exit and lifts the box in the air. “But that bloody Tchaikovsky is.”

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x gn!reader #simon riley x gn reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty #cod ghost #cod mwii #ghost cod #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley imagine

[radiant-reid]

NO BC IMAGINE HER COMING IN WITH THEIR KIDS (we all know spencer can't stop at one so they'd have 3 max) AND EVERYONE IS LIKE. "whos goddamn wife is that.."

(I'm talking at least spences slick back hair era)

him >>> this is in my top 5 hairstyles, i wish he wore it more

Spencer had been out the door early that morning with the usual kiss on the forehead for his kids and a minute's worth of chaste kisses for his wife.

Friday nights are dance classes which usually works well with Spencer's schedule since their cases start at the beginning of the week and wrap somewhere in the middle.

He didn't take his car to work, figuring they didn't need two, especially since they were going out afterward to get ice cream and celebrate the girls' recital.

Morgan had distracted Spencer while he's waiting for a message from Y/n to tell him she's there, and when his phone chimes, he doesn't hear it.

So the four of them make their way up to the sixth floor, the girls bouncing up and down while Y/n holds their youngest.

Spencer doesn't notice them until the girls squeal and run across the floor to where he's standing in the kitchenette. He knows those sounds well and turns from tipping out the rest of his coffee to greet them.

"Hey." He grins, bending down to their height and holding out his arms so he can catch the three-year-olds. The twins attack him with cuddles, excited to see him after so long. He effortlessly picks them up, carrying one in each arm against his sides as he looks at his wife. "Why are you guys up here?" He asks.

"I texted and called." She tells him, and he looks for his phone before realizing he left it sitting on his desk.

"Oh, I was in the board room. I'm sorry." He apologizes, knowing it can't have been easy to lug three kids out of the car.

She shakes her head, stepping closer to kiss him. "Don't worry. Are you nearly ready to go? These two are pretty excited."

They agree, kicking their ballet-shoe-clad feet up and down. "I can tell. You both look so pretty." He tells them, looking at their identical white tutus and slick back buns. "And yeah, we should probably go." He spins around, carrying them to his desk to skillfully pick up his stuff while holding them.

Y/n follows him with the baby carrier, helping put his (thankfully closed) files into his satchel while Spencer chats to the girls about their days.

While they stand in the middle of the bullpen, they're viewable from the boardroom where Morgan, JJ, Emily, and Penelope are sitting.

Morgan catches them in his peripheral vision first. "Uh, guys, who's that with Reid?" He draws everyone else's attention to the happy family outside.

"Spencer's got kids?" JJ asks as they all make their way to stand closer to the glass where they can see the mysterious visitors.

"Spencer's got a wife?" Penelope echos her confusion.

"A hot wife." Emily jokes, getting hit on the shoulder by Penelope as punishment.

Morgan seems to agree with her, though. "That can seriously not be someone's mom."

"Should we, like, leave them?" JJ wonders, although she really doesn't want to.

"No." Penelope shakes her head. "We've got to meet those adorable children."

It's Morgan's voice that draws Spencer out of the bubble of their happy family, reminding him he was never out of eyesight. "Hey, pretty boy," Morgan smirks, out of the room and leaning on the railing.

JJ, Penelope, and Emily all stand next to him, watching Spencer's reaction."What is going on?" JJ asks.

Spencer's speechless about their secret coming out, so Y/n steps up. "Hi, I'm Y/n Reid, and I'm his wife." She introduces herself. The four of them make their way down to shake her hand, except for Penelope who can't resist hugging her.

"You have a wife?" JJ asks.

"And three kids?" Penelope adds.

"A beautiful wife, too." Morgan flirts playfully.

Spencer chuckles slightly. "Surprise?" He offers. "This is Belle." He turns to the side, showing them one twin. "And this is Bea."

"Daddy!" 'Bea' complains with a giggle. "I'm Mabel."

He's been mixing them up on purpose since they were little, amusing them to no end which was his goal as a parent. He just grins at her. "And that's Beau." He nods to the 6-month-old boy still in his seat, still asleep. Y/n turns his car seat around so they can see the baby.

"I'm sorry you guys never knew." She apologizes. It would have been nice for both parts of Spencer's life to overlap, but he was paranoid about something happening to them.

"Wow." Morgan verbalizes for the rest of them. "You really can keep a secret."

Penelope places a hand over her heart jokingly. "Even I didn't know."

"It won't make you feel better, but Gideon, Hotch, and Rossi all know." Spencer tells her menacingly. He knows she's going to go look them all up when they leave. As little people as possible knew since he was terrified about someone bad getting to them, but it feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulder now that his two lives have overlap. "We do kind of have to go." He remembers, looking at his watch.

"We'll just send you a list of questions when we finalize them." Penelope settles as they say farewell to each.

Morgan waits until they're just out of earshot to make his next comment. "Number one, how did you get such a hot wife?"

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb

[god-forsaken-sp-confession-blog]

i hate femme kyle so fucking much. dare i say it is the worst characterization/headcanon in the entire fandom. you can call me all the isms and phobics you want and tell me im being a buzzkill and policing your fun but i do not care and you will never change my mind. antisemitic undertones aside, do these people watch the show? do you not remember the entire episode about kyle being the only one out of all the boys in the class who didn’t want to participate in the metrosexual trend and he literally got beat up for it? kyle “i love being a dirty filthy little boy” broflovski? headcanons can be fun and cool but there’s a big difference between a headcanon and stripping a character of all their canonical traits to the point of being unrecognizable. just make a goddamn oc, cus if you have to headcanon a character to be pretty much the entire opposite of what they are in canon, you don’t actually like that character. you can make a case for every other main boy being femme except for kyle so why is it always him. kenny-easy, princess kenny. and he slayed in that fuzzy pink parka in south park is gay. stan-multiple episodes about him having complicated feelings about sexuality/gender. butters-he has all these play pretend personas, one of them being a girl. also he dances to lorde in a tutu in that one ep, so cute! cartman-i don’t even need to explain this one, we already know. kyle is the only one with zero canonical basis for being even slightly feminine. oh because he doesn’t like pee? because he’s more nurturing than the others? because he likes tiktok? you sound insane and also really sexist! there is nothing wrong at all with being feminine, obviously. it’s just really fucking weird when you insist upon it for a character that it doesn’t fit while ignoring the fact that it does fit other characters. like i can clearly tell you are just playing into a fetish with antisemitic influence and hiding behind “b-b-but it’s just my opinion🥺 ur a misogynist!” as a shield and it’s gross tbh.

every time you draw fanart of twinky kyle in a cheerleading skirt with muscle stan in football gear, god kills a kitten. save the kittens and put kenny in the skirt instead.

.

#south park #south park confession

[tangledinink]

So does swanatello have a different fighting style than Donnie? If so what’s it like? Does he still use the techy aspect of his Bo staff?

:''') I tried to answer a bunch of asks (mostly swanatello related) together in a lump but tumblr had some sort of error and deleted a bunch of them as I was doing so. So I have all the ANSWERS that I wrote out,,, but not most of the asks = 3 = So??? Answers under the cut, and my best approximation of the lost asks! If yours isn't in here, I'm almost certainly hoarding it so I can draw an answer later on!

His fighting style is similar, as the foundation is still the same, but with a ballet flavor! His movements tend to be very graceful and 'swoopy' now, though he also tends to be a lot more aggressive in his attacks. He unfortunately lost his tech bo, along with his headset and tech gauntlet, during his transformation and his family has not yet been able to locate them. He is also currently unable to access his ninpo, so the integration of tech, mystical or otherwise, is missing from his combat style at the moment. He is, however, able to manipulate both light and the water of the lake (think waterbending style) when fighting-- or is it the lake fighting with him...?

The Lake's Curse affects his memory. Anything that might detract from his ability to serve as the Lake's Guardian is obscured-- such as his family and details of his life before. They're not entirely GONE, Swanatello just has... a hard time accessing them sometimes. When his brothers are around, he has something to latch onto and has an easier time accessing obscured memories. But when they leave, the Curse works very hard to wipe them out again.

[ Ask was basically just a lovely compliment that I very much enjoyed, mentioned heartbreaking and had a sparkle heart emoji in it which is my fav <3]

Thank you! ; w ; I'm glad you like them!!!

[Ask was encouraging me to watch Princess Tutu!]

IT'S ON MY TO DO LIST... ; w ;

[Ask was inquiring if there was anywhere in particular where Swanatello likes to spend his time on the lake when his brothers aren't around.]

He usually spends most of his time alone dancing on the surface of the water-- or, if not this, he very much enjoys the willow trees the grows by the bank.

[Ask was inquiring if the Lake has ever felt the need to intervene directly rather than just affecting Swanatello's memory]

Not yet, at least...

Yes. :)

[Ask was inquiring if Swannie views the lake as a deity or entity.]

Basically, yes. He views it as a living, sentient thing. And to be fair it... kind of is.

His family, without a doubt. But his room, his lab, and the internet are a close second...

[Ask said 'since I can't boop Swanatello, can I get a fist bump?]

He's going to bite you! Be careful!!!

[Ask about whether or not I've seen the new Mutant Mayhem trailer with the turtle tots!]

Yes, they're very cute! <3

#asks #anon #swanatello #systemsentry #rottmntfansworld #tsume4life #sighs deeply at tumblr #its partially my faulllttttttt i was being a bit careless... #but hopefully this is still! adequate! ; w ;

[zexainias-doodles]

💜 Dance with Me 🩷

I worked so hard on this drawing and I love it! Fun fact; I listened mostly to electroswing music while working on it. >w< This time around, I thought it would be fun to share some progress pics for anyone who may be curious about my process.

So the first step to most of my drawings is a structure drawing. I used to not use these at all, but boy do they come in handy. They're used to determine your poses and proportions. As you can see it's made up of lines and simple shapes.

Once the structure drawing is where I like it, then I make the sketch. Tulleula's arm was too long, so I fixed it. I also moved Jax's arm back a bit to look more natural.

After the sketch is done, I make the simple line art with pen. I wanted Tulleula's tutu to have a different angle, so I redrew it.

Next, it was time for the first layer of color. This is where I stop with some of my drawings if I don't care to spend too much time on them, but with this one I wanted to go all the way.

Now it's time for the shading. You might think this is finished, but the last step is important.

Ta-da! The finished product. Having defined, varying line art really brings out the details in the drawing. Sometimes I add a simple background, but I couldn't think of anything this time. Plus I've already spent an unruly amount of time on this. Let me know what you think!

#jax #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #amazing digital circus #tadc fanart #tadc #jax fanart #the amazing digital circus jax #jax the amazing digital circus #tadc oc #the amazing digital circus oc #tadc original character #digital circus oc #jax x oc

[icanreadthisbutnotbooks]

So this is my first time doing this so I don't know if it's going to be good or not constructive criticism is appreciated.

So I recently I thought it would be kind of funny if some characters where followed around by a child because the child thought the character was someone they admired so I thought I would write this. The reader is a 3 year old girl here.

Featuring

Kartien, Veremonte

Kartien

He was at the store buying cat food, was definitely a bit extra wearing his full ensemble

He notices pretty quickly that the 3 year old girl is staring at him, it was kind of hard to miss her, given the little light up fairy wings and bright pink tutu she was wearing.

He doesn't really care much and wrote it off as the child just loving magic, until said 3 year old follows him around like a duckling while doing a bad job at hiding. The light up wings gives her away giving her away like a neon sign.

He's actually in a some what good mood that day and decides to talk to the child.

Any reason you're following me around you should be staying close with your mother instead of following strangers.

Child reader quickly shuffles to him with sparkles in her eyes

Mister are you a fairy your eyes are like pretty blue diamonds, and your face is really really beautiful, oh oh if you're a fairy does that mean you have a really pretty unicorn too? Do you have really pretty fairy magic? Since you're so beautiful your magic must be pretty too.

Kartien gives a light chuckle and squats down to readers height.

I'm not a fairy and I too wish I had a pretty unicorn, and you're quite adorable yourself so I think you'll make quite the adorable little fairy.

Really? you think I can be a fairy? You're the best I like you a lot and even if you're not a fairy.

Child reader happily bounces up and down and does a little dance in joy.

Ooh oops I didn't tell you my name I'm Y/n it's nice to meet you mister.

I'm Kartien it's nice to meet you too.

Umm mister Kartien I know you told me not to follow strangers but um I think I lost mommy... sowwy.

Kartien gives a tired sigh and shakes his head, grabs the cat food and takes child reader with him to the lost counter. Gives you a long lecture while you wait for your mother on why you shouldn't trust strangers.

Turns out you're neighbours with Jiwoo whenever you see Kartien you always run up to say hello, and give him something fairy related,like flowers crowns or little drawings. He's the first person you show any magic tricks you learn. The gang has made you an honorary member.

*side note: you don't know that he turns into a cat but you specially made cat Kartien a little sweater with a unicorn. Doesn't admit it but he likes the sweater.

Veremonte

Veremonte

Jurion

Ian

Reader

He and his grandsons are out for simple outing, they finished some sort of important meeting and are now sightseeing realise they are being watched and that it may be a security measure at first. Veremonte realises that there isn't any unknown awakener nearby since he doesn't sense anything.

Jurion is the first to realise it's just a little girl following them on account of the little girl wearing a huge fluffy bright pink coat and a little hat with raindeer antlers.

Ppft aww she like, a little pink cotton ball with antlers.

Veremonte waves at the child and signals her to come over

Little one why are you following us? you must stay with your mother she must be in a fright at this moment.

The little girl cupped her hands around her face like she was trying to whisper

Umm mister Santa Claus are you on spy mode right now?

Santa Claus?

Ppft

Spy mode?

You twiddle your gloved fingers while shuffling your feet

Uh huh spy mode, mama said Santa is super big, has a fluffy white beard,a big coat, and a loud laugh. So um are you on spy mode to see who to put on the naughty or nice list?

Ian is trying not to laugh, Jurion face freezes and Veremonte is in shock.

You walk up and tug at the end of Jurion's coat while looking up at him in curiousty

Um mister if he's Santa does that make you the head of the eleves at Santas toy workshop? Mama said elves are pretty and you're pretty and he is too also my name is Y/n

You say while also starring at Ian who is now attempting to cover his mouth as he choked on laughter

Aww thanks little bud you're hilarious

Ian..*sigh*.. little one I'm not Santa Claus neither is Jurion an elf. I am Veremonte and the one laughing is Ian. Little one you should not run behind strangers just because you think they look like Santa. It could be very dangerous and something bad could happen.

You pout and sadly look at your shoes

Sowwy mister Veremonte

Veremonte chuckles and gently pats your head

Say why were you so concerned about whether or not you were on the naughty list?

Thewe was a boy at school he said my cat Mittens looked ugly so I bit him

Good for you he deserved to be bit

Ian

No

Ian lifts his hands in mock surrender and squats down to your eye level

Ok ok listen I'm sure you'll get back on Santa's good kid list, just uhh eat all your veggies and milk or something okay

WEALLY? Okay I pwomise to eat all my veggies and dwink all my milk

You happily bounce up and down and give Ian a hug

Thank you bye bye mister's

You happily wave and run off

She's probably lost she came from the other direction.

She's going to come back here isn't she?

Definitely I give her 5 minutes max.

You're back in 4 minutes and tugging at Veremonte's coat

Sowwy mister Veremonte I know you said that following strangers is bad but umm I'm a little lost.. sowwy

Ian holds your hand and they take you to the lost child centre, you receive the stranger danger lecture from Veremonte as you wait for your mother.

Side note: Ian now sometimes calls Veremonte grandfather Santa.

#eleceed #Veremonte Patrick #Ian Patrick #Jurion Patrick #Kartien

[olivers-cocoapuffs]

(yes regulus is trans, no he isn’t out fully. He still dances as a girl)

James bounces into the studio, bag slung over his shoulder and grin on his face. He looks around, instantly zeroing in on his dance partner at the barre.

Regulus is doing his stretches and glances over at James, scowling when he spots him. James drops his bag in the corner of the studio, next to where Marlene is stretching on the floor before bounding over to Regulus.

“Morning Reggie.” James greets, standing beside him.

“Regulus.” He hisses in response.

“Right, sorry.”

Regulus huffs and resumes his demi plié’s. He’s actively trying not to look at James, who has started following his lead, moving to the other side of the barre.

“What do you want, Potter?”

“Just warming up Reg. What do you want?”

“I want to not have to look at you, let alone let you touch me. Piss off.”

James chortles, delighted. “You’re so mean.”

The expression on Regulus’ face makes James think that he’s about to grab his pointe shoe and slap him across the face. James reckons he’d probably let him.

Ms McGonagall claps her hands sharply, drawing their attention. “We’ll be working on our pas de deux today.”

Beside James, Regulus huffs in annoyance. He moves over to where the rest of their teammates are, James following him. Regulus sits on the floor, and starts lacing up his pointe shoes as Lily and Remus start their dance.

They finish almost flawlessly, and they all clap politely. Lily does an over the top curtesy and Remus winks at James before the pair of them rejoin the group.

“Black, Potter.” Minerva calls out.

James holds out his hand to Regulus and walks him out to the middle of the floor. They settle into position, James standing behind Regulus with his hands on his waist.

“You better not drop me.” Regulus hisses before Minnie turns the music back on.

“Keep your tutu on, bunhead.” James rolls his eyes, but the effect is lost because of his grin.

#S/o to my sister for my secondhand knowledge of all things dance #Mostly ballet though #I’d like to say I’ve never seen someone be slapped with a pointe shoe irl #But I’m not going to lie to you #regulus black #james potter #starchaser #jegulus #the marauders #marauders era #marauders au #marauders imagine

[gemwing2010]

🧜🏻‍♀️🌊 The Misty Mermaid Review 💧🫧

The Misty Mermaid is one of my favourite episodes way back in Pokémon Indigo League, the very first series in the Pokémon anime series that started it all for my life of devotion to the franchise. And it is also one of my favourite episodes to centre around Misty where she has a moment to shine. And it also serves a bit of potential foreshadowing of her own evolution into the mature, competent and responsible Cerulean Gym Leader than all three of her older sisters combined.

What started out as a quick stop at Misty’s home at the Cerulean to give her Horsea a bigger place to swim around in than a small fountain, her older sisters, Daisy, Violet and Lily, had opened a new underwater ballet titled “The Magical Mermaid”, revealing Misty to be in the starring role as the titular mermaid… without her consent.

After some persuasion from Daisy, Misty reluctantly accepts the role and immediately has to get up to speed with the script and what she needed to do.

Meanwhile, Team Rocket are up to no good as usual, planning to steal some valuable Pokémon. Upon spotting the promo poster of the Cerulean Sisters’ show, the Terrible Trio decided to make a tidal wave of trouble to make the show a total washout (pun not intended) and rob them blind of all of the Water Pokémon.

The following night of the performance, the first act of The Magical Mermaid went without a hitch as Misty performed so well as she swam and danced with all of the Pokémon performing, most especially some of her own Pokémon as well as her sisters’ Seel.

However, just as the first act was drawing the close, Violet and Lily, who were taking the role of a pair a of wicked pirates who take the Mermaid hostage, demanding her to reveal to them the location of hidden treasure, Team Rocket barged in to ruin everything.

In Act 2 of the play, Team Rocket literally stole the show as Jessie and James wore outfits that didn’t fit the theme of the performance (but it comes off hilariously silly to see James dressed in a pink tutu while he comments about “stealing men’s clothes next time).

As Misty struggles to protect the Pokémon Team Rocket attempted to steal, Ash Brock and Pikachu literally dived in to lend their friend a hand, filling in for Daisy’s place as the hero of the story. It was originally intended for Daisy, playing as a handsome prince who would rescue the Mermaid from the pirates, but she had to tend to her younger sisters, who had been bound, gagged and stuffed in one of the lockers by Team Rocket’s meddling.

This episode also shows that Jessie’s Arbok puts up a better fight than usual and came almost close to overpowering the heroes’ Pokémon given the close all with its fight with Horsea. And it also reveals that Misty’s Psyduck, ironically, can’t swim despite being a Water-Type when her sisters thought it was a good idea to have him join in the fray.

When Jessie grows sick of the battle, she calls in the big guns and orders Arbok to use Poison Sting to finish the good guys off. I think that must have been a dub error since Arbok just bared its fangs and tried to take a bite out of the heroes’ Pokémon. Just as Arbok had them cornered, Seel steps in and reveals it’s a very strong fighter as Misty takes command of the attacks.

After landing a few strong hits, Seel suddenly evolves into a Dewgong and easily curb-stomped Arbok and Ice Beamed Team Rocket. After pulling all of the Water Pokémon safely out of the water, Ash has Pikachu use an epic Thundershock on the water, shocking the still frozen Jessie, James and Arbok, shattering the ice and they explode out the water. After a powerful tail slap from Dewgong, they were literally thrown back into Meowth and their hot air balloon, blasting off once again.

Despite Team Rocket’s interference, The Magical Mermaid was a huge hit. However since Misty still has to leave home and continue travelling with her friends, her sisters decided to each take turns as the main character. They also requested her to leave some of her Pokémon to stay with them at the Gym for a while, partly to help out with their show. So, we sadly have to say goodbye to Misty’s Horsea and Starmie.

After an interesting experience in a ballet they would never forget, our heroes departed Cerulean City and continue on their journey to Viridian City in the quest for Ash to win his 8th and final Gym Badge so he can finally compete in the Pokémon League.

While there might be some flaws and errors here and there, I personally enjoyed this episode since I have a soft spot for mermaids since years of watching Disney’s The Little Mermaid. And Misty looked so pretty with longer hair and her mermaid costume was so cute.

Happy MerMay everyone and may your dreams shine. ✨

#Pokémon #Something I did for fun #MerMay

[your-absent-father]

Okay the poll was a tie with drabble and the vanishing act so I had an idea. I am going to make drabbles of the performance on the Moirai's fairground.

First up, Vicki the clown. Let's see when I am going to dp next.

Vicki the Clown

In a puff of smoke, a small looking clown appeared in the middle of the circus floor. She was wearing a white tutu that looked almost child size compared to her long legs that were hidden behind black and white stockings. She was wearing the same colored gloves which reached over the woman's elbows. Only skin she was showing was on her face and neck, which was painted snow white. Her clown face was almost comically overdone. Her smile was almost unnerving. Her eyes were hidden behind her giant afro, but you could still feel like she was watching you. 

Flash a smile, my dear

Sing and dance, my dear

Make them laugh so loud 

They forget their sadness and their fear

Don't feel doom and gloom

Just sing along with my tune. 

My dear, let's goof around,

 turn that frown upside down 

And tell some jokes. 

Almost from nowhere, dozens of clowns started running towards her. They started trampling one another with more and more ridiculous ways, like with a giant mallet or with wrestling moves. When they reached the woman, they started dancing the same way the main clown sang, which was very cute with some very suggestive moves thrown in the middle, which felt almost perverse considering her child-like outfit. 

Hello everybody, my name is Vicki

Other clowns would say I smell really Icky. 

I like to dance around with all my friends

I hope this happiness will never end

My skin is white like the christmas snow

Unless you see me in the shadow

When the other clowns were around Vicki, one by one they started to fight to be next to her. When pushing or other ways didn't help, the other people started to fall when the clowns started to knock each other out till only few were left. 

Boys love Vicki

They really love me

But only thing I ever love is

How much money they give me

All the jewelry and fancy dresses

Is all that you need

To buy my fancies. 

Give love to poor little Vicki

So you will get the queen of the clownies.

The few clowns left were satisfied with being close to Vicki. They tried to get close to Vicki themselves. Grabbing her and throwing her all around the arena. Vicki didn't seem to care at all. She was still smiling, no matter what position the other clowns put her in. Her face changed only when one of the clowns poured water in her head, ruining her makeup and making her hair wet. After being still for a few seconds, she started dancing the same dance as in the beginning. 

Flash a smile, my dear 

Sing and dance, my dear

Perform your fucking best

 till the curtain  draws to close

I do not want to go

But it's the end of my show

So I say good night

And say goodbye 

And go.

While Vicki was performing the final steps, all the clowns that had lost the battle of Vicki's affection started to walk closer to her with a giant water bucket. After her final move was up, Vicki put her hands to her chest and started falling backwards the same time other clowns threw the water in her face. In the end, only a water stain was left in the circus arena. 

"That was Vicki the clown! Wasn't she goofy?" K, the ringmaster yelled. "Next up, our queen on horseback and her beautiful cast of animals." 

#wip: circus moirai #writeblr #writing #wip #book wip

[generalsnivy]

This is my belated Eevee Day drawing that I wanted to finish by yesterday, but I couldn't do so in time. Regardless of timing, this drawing was one of the oldest ideas I had sitting on my list for a very long time and it took me until now to finally put it onto a digital canvas!

For context as to what's going on here, Bruno the Eevee placed a bet with his teammate, TT the Riolu, to see how many apples the two of them could collect for their client by sunset the previous day. Whoever lost the bet would have to dance the entirety of the Nutcracker Suite while wearing a tutu on stage in front of their entire guild the following day. The competition between them was close, but TT won by 1 apple and so, Bruno had to bare the loss and humiliation as he reluctantly took the tutu, got on stage, and began dancing to the Nutcracker Suite, looking completely unamused by these turn of events and everyone, including his teammates, laughed and cheered as he danced throughout the song.

I originally planned to include mostly half of a human holding his arms as he wore the tutu. But, I could not draw the human's hand holding Bruno's paws properly and after a bit of pondering, I decided to scrap the human's inclusion and change the theme to have it take place in the universe of Pokemon Mystery Dungeon (despite me never playing any of the games, I've seen a lot of fan art of the series and managed to get a general idea as to what the spinoff series is about.) Sometimes, thems the breaks and it can also lead to different opportunities to make the original vision even better as one changes their approach and new ideas flood in to compensate for one's lack of skills in a given situation. TL;DR: I need to practice drawing humans much more before I can include them in any serious drawings.

#pokemon #pokemonfanart #pocketmonsters #pokemonnintendo #pocket_monsters #pocketmonstersfanart #pokemon fanart #pokemondrawing #pokemon drawing #eevee pokemon #eeveepokemonfanart #eevee #eevee day #eevee fanart #eevee day 2023 #eevee's day #eevee's day 2023 #eevee art #pokemon mystery dungeon #tutu #tutu boy #eevee dancing in a tutu #eevee dancing #christmas 2023 #christmas #holidays #holiday season #happy holidays #stage #stage performance

[staticl0ve]

The Boy Next Door: The Heartbreak Prince Pt.1

A human AU of the RK boys.

Parings: Human!Sixty / Female Reader Rating: Explicit/ NSWF 18+ Chapters (AO3): [ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ] Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: One line of implied underage drug use/the dirty mind of Sixty (smut free chapter) Summary: He’s a skater boy and you said see ya later boy.

-

There was a little girl that lived next door to Sixty. Their paths didn’t cross much, save for a handful of times. The first instance was when they were toddlers and he was minding his own business, building a sandcastle in his front yard. She strolled on by all smiles in a sparkling pink tutu with her legs carrying her like she didn’t quite enjoy the cumbersome layers of her outfit.

Behind him was his dad, Hank, chatting away the new neighbors with what was mostly gibberish to a three year old Sixty. She tried to say hello, her clumsy footfalls causing her to trip and crush the sandcastle he was trying so hard to build. He didn’t remember much beyond that, probably some screaming involving two toddlers and exasperated parents.

It was his last year in high school, some test or assignment was likely due and all that mattered to him in the moment were the harsh and angry lyrics of his favorite band blasting across an arena. His body moved to the music, his feet jumping enthusiastically as sweat dripped from his brow and neck. The floor was filled with dancing bodies as far as the eye could see and in the mess of stage lights and blurred people, he caught sight of his neighbor not too far from him.

Over a decade of polite greetings with her and he knew next to nothing about her. What he did know was that his eighteen year old brain exploded when he saw her looking like a skater boy’s wet dream, rocking out to tunes he knew by heart. It blew his mind because because at school, she was Miss Americana, strutting around in a tight cheerleading uniform, probably smelling like apple pie and vanilla ice cream.

He did a double take, crossing off everything he recognized about her and sure enough, it was the girl next door. What was Detroit High’s homecoming queen, class president, and captain of the cheerleading squad doing at some raging, sweat filled punk fest?

Sixty caught himself staring at her like a lovesick moron when she passed by him in the school hallways, her hips swaying in that classic blue, gold and white uniform. He never noticed it before, her accent pieces: black nails, skull earrings and bracelets with metal studs. Even her laugh was cute, with a little flirty edge that made his heart leap between his ribs. That sweet melody was of course, caused by none other than her football captain boyfriend, Anthony. Some stereotypes never changed.

And that girl next door?

Your twin sister.

No, hah!

Sixty wished you had a twin sister. Maybe he’d take her back to your house, fuck her in her bedroom and hoped to god you could hear how good he was from the room over. The fleeting fantasy summoned the most bizarre and intense threesome dream of his life and worst of all, you didn’t even have a twin.

Fuck, he was losing his mind.

After the concert, he saw you in a whole new light that wasn’t painting you with a broad brush of being a vapid and shallow portrait of Americana. Sure, you were always hot, but he didn’t pay any attention to the inner workings of the popular group. He had better things to do like making art, jamming to new tunes, and getting laid.

You were in two of his elective classes, art and music and somehow he never noticed. He normally sat in the back like he always did in all of his classes, making jokes with his best friend, Ralph, and scribbling drawings in a notebook. Time and time again, Hank got dragged to parent teacher conference after conference. None of the meetings would change Sixty, the stubborn boy was hardwired to be a bit of a rebel.

“Mr. Anderson, your son seems to have a problem with focusing. He simply won’t sit still.”

“Mr. Anderson, if I catch Caiden with this substance under the bleachers one more time…”

“Mr. Anderson. No, no. It’s good news this time. You’ve got a really talented son.”

That last one was rare. It went on and on, and honestly it wasn’t like Sixty was trying to get on his dad’s nerves, he wasn’t aiming to be a bad kid…he was just a little ADHD (a lot ADHD as he’d later figure out) and loved to challenge anyone who thought they had any authority over him. His motto, in the words of Rage Against the Machine was:

Fuck no, I won’t do what you tell me.

Art and music were the two classes where he’d been well behaved in and was really, really talented at. Some of his skateboard designs actually got featured in a local gallery. One rich guy even bought a framed copy of the full artwork! The proceeds of course, went straight to a bitching party with his bros.

The music stuff he mostly dabbled with cause he read somewhere that chicks really dug a man who could play a guitar. It mentioned something about the mystique it added and that the showcasing of raw talent was something the feminine mind could not resist. Come to think of it, he just realized how trashy that magazine must have been. Something must have been working because to his surprise, you were the first to approach him in art class.

“It’s Caiden right?” You asked.

“Sixty,” he corrected you. “Caiden’s what boring old dinosaurs call me.”

You weren’t really listening, your head nodding with a stray smile as the girl next him greeted you.

“I’m sorry, I definitely didn’t catch that,” you said sheepishly.

He felt the air rush out of of his lungs when you directed a bubblegum sweet smile back at him. How you managed to look like Miss America by day and wild rebel by night was beyond him. He ran his fingers through his messy locks of hair and wondered if he remembered to wash it either yesterday or this morning.

“My friends call me Sixty.”

“Oh! Cool,” the way you said it sounded polite, but also like you wanted to get this conversation over with. You made a finger motion at the pencil sharpener on his desk. “The sharpener on the wall is broken, is it alright if I borrow yours?”

He floundered like a fish out of water, mouth flapping before words left them.

“Y-yeah.”

“Thanks, Sixty.”

He couldn’t believe you said it! If cloud nine was a real thing, it would definitely be him lying on that pillowy fluff listening to your voice saying his name over and over, especially in the gentle and unintentionally sultry tone that you used.

“Sixty.”

Oh yeah, cloud nine.

A short beat elapsed before the voice sighed.

“Six.”

“Huh?” He replied, a little dazed.

“You alright dude? You’ve been standing at the top of this drop for forever man.”

A skateboard was tucked under his left foot, the heat of the sun had his skin drenched with sweat pooling down the front and back of his shirt. He was daydreaming about you again and totally blanked out on being at the skate park.

“Are you still thinking about that girl?” Ralph asked.

Sixty let out an exasperated sound, cradling his face in his palms. “I can’t get her out of my head. It’s like she’s got a spell on me. Every time I close my eyes I just see her.”

“Man, you’ve got it bad,” Ralph said while patting his bro on the back.  “Have you tried talking to her? Like really talk to her, not some—“ his voice went up a few octaves. “Oh, Mr. Anderson, can I use your pencil sharpener?”

First off, he would kill to hear you call him Mr. Anderson. Second…

“Our paths barely even cross, we only have two classes together and-“

“Dude,” Ralph scoffed. “You live right next to her.”

“Fuck,” Sixty ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and took a deep breath. “Okay, yeah. I’ll try it.”

Ralph shifted a little and Sixty had known him long enough to know without looking that he was giving him a long, scrutinizing stare.

“Just don’t do that thing you always do,” he said. “Cause Anthony’s still her boyfriend and he would obliterate your ass.”

Bro code for: don’t be a little man whore and think with your heart instead of your dick. Easier said than done when it came to Sixty. If anything, it probably helped that your boyfriend was one hell of a beast.

“That is if she even falls for all of this,” Ralph gestured at him and snorted.

What cheer captain would be able to resist him in ripped jeans, a hole filled sorta white T-shirt and the grimiest set of converses a teenage boy could own? At least Sixty knew he had a good looking face cause there was a line of chicks dying to get in his pants and longer list of broken hearts he’d left behind.

Ralph didn’t give him a chance to respond, picking up his skateboard to take the plunge down the fifteen foot drop. Sixty straightened up, adjusted his helmet and grinned.

Yeah, he could do it.

He could make the jump.

The master plan could not possibly fail. He had dreamed up a scenario where he’d hang out in the music room until one day, you’d ultimately stroll through because you needed to practice. It was foolproof. A week elapsed and he felt more and more like some idiot trying to befriend a very unavailable girl until fate would have you pushing through the double doors of the practice room.

His back straightened, correcting his posture before going back to strumming his guitar. A quiet sob threw him off his melody. You must have come straight from a football game, your shoes still damp and marked with fresh grass.

“Are you…okay?” He asked.

You were taking in short little inhales like that would stem the waterfall pouring down your cheeks. It took a moment for you to register that there was someone else in the room and that he just asked you a question.

“I’m sorry, I — I thought this room would be empty.”

“I can go?” He replied and made motions to pack up his guitar.

“No, wait,” you stopped and smiled, your puffy tear stained eyes blinking away the salt. “Is that the song that I think it is?”

It was the same song playing in the background the night he saw you at the concert. He’d been trying to perfect it for weeks, not to impress you with it, but to get it out of his head since it had been playing in a nonstop loop after seeing you.

“You know it?” He casually asked.

“Know it? I love it.”

His fingers plucked away, continuing the melody. He hummed along to it, the lyrics slowly gaining in volume the more confident he got. Your voice joined his, quiet and shaky from crying but it got stronger until it sounded like a duet.

“Holy shit,” he said when the song ended. “You’ve got a beautiful voice.”

“Thanks,” you replied and took a seat next to him. “What else do you know?”

It became a routine, you’d leave cheerleading practice to chill with him, sing together, let him scribble on your book covers, and he never asked you why you came running into the music room crying. He caught hints of the sadness that swirled beneath the veneer of your perfect life. Familial expectations weighed on your shoulders and recently, you expressed your unhappiness with the jokes about you and Anthony voted most likely to get married. Which was a bit strange to Sixty since you were both prom king and queen.

Did it mean there was trouble in paradise? A chip in the high school sweetheart cliche where he could weasel his way into your heart? He could hear Ralph’s voice scolding him when he fantasized about being the guy to sweep up the broken pieces of your heart.

“Just don’t do that thing you always do.”

It was just a fantasy of a horny teenager, he reasoned and a temptation that was stemmed by the slump in your shoulders and your worn out sighs. He didn’t ask you about Anthony, wanting to avoid all conversations about the muscly hunk that always had his annoying arm slung over your shoulders. The time in the music room was meant to be decompression time. It was where he thought you were the most honest, raw…stunning.

In your worst days, his shoulder was yours to lean on. He was the kind of guy who’s mouth always ran uncensored but on those dark days, he ignored what his heart wanted. Sixty sat with you in silence, his fingers threading through your hair. You poured your heart out to a guy who was nothing more than a stranger for years and he had never felt more undeserving of your attention.

How could he when you were so fucking perfect?

One glance at you and he couldn’t find a single hair out of place, your uniform always freshly pressed and a report card that would put his to shame. No one would suspect the cheer captain being worn and tired. You were all smiles outside of this little window of time with him. Still, it bothered him that the pressure was enough to make you crack.

“Do you ever get tired of being perfect?” He asked one day.

The look you gave him made his heart lurch and instantly regret his big fat mouth opening with such a dumb question.

“W-what do you mean?” You asked.

“Shit. I mean — you came in here crying when we first met and you’ve got this look on your face lately.”

You sighed, “We’ve met a long time ago, Sixty.”

He didn’t really count toddler tantrums and pencil sharpener borrowing to be proper introductions but that was not his point.

“My point is…something’s been bothering you and…uh, I’m here for you, whenever you need it.”

Your lips broke into a smile, a real one and Sixty wanted nothing more than to spend a lifetime trying to see it. He did eventually learn what what was going on in your bubblegum paradise when Anthony shoved him against a locker later.

“What the f-“

“Stay away from my girlfriend. You got me?” He snarled at Sixty.

“Anthony, stop,” you interrupted.

The grip on Sixty’s shirt collar tightened before he dropped him back down. Anthony turned to face you with a scowl.

“You’re supposed to be on my side, baby,” Anthony snarled.

“You don’t have the right to call me that anymore. Not after you’ve spent every practice flirting with the girls in my squad,” you said. Your hand fell on one hip and Sixty swore he’d never seen a hotter angry chick. “Which, by the way, the girls are my friends and we rally together. They think you’re disgusting so you can forget about hooking up with any of them.”

“W-wait, babe.”

“Shut up. We’re done.”

As it would turn out, suddenly being single didn’t make you available to Sixty. It was unusual for him but he kinda liked not having to deal with the drama of one time flings, a part of him hoping for more if he could get it. After graduation, summer felt like a fever dream, with you laid out on his bed beside him — as friends — talking about your day, hopes, and dreams.

Despite being platonic for the summer, sometimes he got insanely mixed message from you. Your bedrooms were across the way from each other and your blinds had always been drawn when you wanted privacy. But occasionally, his window would be open and you could see him practicing music or just blasting it while he drew.

“No way…” Sixty murmured, his jaw practically hitting the floor.

Your blinds were wide open, your lamp on and he got an eyeful of you disrobing with your back to the window. First it was your shirt to go flying in what he assumed was your bed or laundry hamper and then — your bra.

He gulped. “Fuck.”

Maybe you didn’t remember that your blinds were open, so he, against all odds, decided to be a good man and left his room. The fifth time it happened though, he got a little suspicious and finally had the nerve to watch. Nothing else ever happened between you two and you never asked him if he’d seen anything. He was a bit thrown off when summer was over and you both remained friends, just friends. 

You were headed off, bags fully packed to leave Detroit and he was staying to attend a local community college with a dream of opening his own skate shop one day. On your last afternoon together you were on his bed, flipping through the pages of a yearbook with Sixty teasing you since you were in so many sections.

“Oh, look at that,” you pointed to a photo of him. “You got voted most likely to be a future Picasso, that’s so sweet.”

He saw your frown when there was a title for ‘most likely to marry their high school sweetheart’ under your face.

“That’s messed up, they should have said you’d be most likely to succeed,” he suggested.

You waved it off with a scoff and shut the book, a sign even Sixty could recognize meant it was time to change the subject.

“So uh, which fancy school are you headed off to again?” He asked.

You laughed, he always had a knack for listening to some things and tuning out others. He shouldn’t have been surprised to hear your answer when you said it. After all, you were a valedictorian, graduated summa cum laude. You didn’t look so amused when he snickered at the ‘cum’ part during graduation.

“I’m going to Harvard.”

“Shit, really? That’s…that’s a long, long drive,” he sighed and ran his hands nervously through his long wavy locks.

You leaned into him, playfully knocking shoulders with him, your hand stroking the bit of paint caught on his shirt sleeve. The motions immediately relaxed him, his elbows spreading wider into the mattress to lean more into your touch. His eyes had shut for a moment, more than soothed with your arm over his. A part of him knew where you were going. He imagined if he didn’t really hear it, then it wouldn’t hang over his head all summer.

“You could always come with me? I’ll bet there are community colleges there that’d you’d like.”

Brown eyes snapped open upon your suggestion and panned across your face. Your voice sounded as defeated as he looked. He wanted to, god, he would. Especially, when you gave him big sad eyes like that. It was tempting, but he knew his roots were in Detroit and it’d tear him apart to see you go.

“Consider me voted most likely to run away with you,” he joked.

He saw you off to your car, his hands nervously fidgeting with the junk in his pockets. Sixty hated bittersweet partings and bit back tears as his arms wrapped around your smaller frame one last time. You kissed him on the cheek, watched his face go bright red before laughing wickedly and he almost wondered if you learned that wickedness from him.

“I can’t let you have all the fun without me, you’ll text me right?” You teased him while he sputtered like a fool.

“Y-yeah, of course!”

“I’m gonna miss you, Six.”

“Yeah…me too.”

He waved you off when you got into your vehicle, his smile falling when you finally left the neighborhood. There was a chance he’d never see you again and he’d never felt dumber for wasting the time that could have been if only he was a more curious neighbor.

-

“Yo Sixty, the new designs are fucking dope! They’re selling like hot cakes!”

A hand roughly grabbed his shoulder and shook it proudly.

“Thanks, Ralph,” he replied.

He was at a skate shop, surrounded by dozens of boards, sixty, to be exact. The designs were all his and he’d never been prouder of having managed to scrape enough savings to open his own store. His creations were on shirts, prints and stickers and some of them were already sold out. Hank must have taken a million photos with the sign out front: Sixty Designs.

“I’m so proud of you Caiden,” Hank said the moment he got back into the store.

“Dad.” Sixty pouted at him like he was a ten year old boy again and not a man in his mid 20s.

“Absolutely not. I am not calling you by that dumb nickname,” Hank replied.

“You mean dope as hell! It’s in the shop name,” Sixty boasted.

“Off the table, son.”

The bell to the front door rang and instead of a pleasing chime, a sick guitar riff announced your arrival. It startled you at first, a soft ‘oh’ leaving your lips.

“Hi,” you greeted him.

It was you, standing in his store with a bubblegum sweet smile on your face. You’ve changed since he last saw you, a little less Americana meets punk rebel and more like a fully put together woman who had her life in order. But one thing certainly didn’t change and it was how hard his heart hammered in your presence. He returned your smile with a rather starstruck one of his own.

“Hi.”

#my writing #detroit become human #dbh fanfic #reader insert #dbh sixty #rk800 60 #sixty x reader #reader x sixty #rk800 60 x reader #the boy next door

[l2bbocsstuff]

Skeletons in the Closet

It had been six months since the Republic City Times headline screamed “Avatar and Asami Split”.  The shock had worn off for most people but not for Akari, their daughter.  The thirteen-year-old, whose nickname was Lights, was brooding in her bedroom at the Sato estate.  This was the first Halloween when her mothers weren’t together.  Even though she knew that both Asami and Korra would be attending her school’s Halloween Dance, it was hard to adjust to spending the first part of the week on Air Temple Island with Korra and the end of the week with Asami at the mansion.

Lights looked at herself in the mirror and hiked up the collar of her vampire costume.  She breathed in and out deeply to try to settle her nerves.  She had a plan and wanted the event to go without a hitch.  She figured if she could just get her moms into a room to talk, everything would go back to normal.  She knew they still loved each other and Akari wanted her little family to be whole again.

She bounded down the stairs into the living room where Asami was waiting.

“Lights, your costume looks really good and your face makeup is perfect.”

“Thanks, Mom.  I like your witch’s outfit too.  Are you ready to go?”

Asami answered quickly, “Sure am.  Just let me grab my pointy hat and my car keys.”

With that, both Satos made their way to the garage.  It was a ten-minute drive to Akari’s school.  Asami had gone to the same private school as a child so she knew where they were going as they entered the building.  As they headed toward the gym, dance music could be heard throughout the hallway.  Once they entered, Akari ran off to meet up with the group of her friends and Asami made her way to the refreshment table.  A few of the teachers and some of the parents were supervising and Asami made small talk with all of them. 

After about ten minutes, Akari’s other mom made her appearance.  Lights ran over to Korra and gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Mama, I’ve imagined a lot of stuff about you and your job but I never in a million years thought I would see you in that get-up!!”

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?  You don’t think the Avatar could dress up like a fairy godmother?  I think I look cute in the pink tutu, tiara and wand.”

Akari giggled and with a wink, asked, “Do you grant wishes?”

“Of course, I do if it’s within my power.”  With that Akari took her mama’s hand.

“Good!! then come with me.”

Lights pulled Korra over to the refreshment table and made her fairy godmother stand beside the witch she came with.  Both women looked at each other and smiled.

Asami spoke first, “Although blue really is your colour, you look good in pink too.”

“Thanks, and as far as I know, you have never been a witch.”

“Mama, Mom, I have something I want to show you that I have been working on in art class.  My art teacher, Mr. Simon, left the classroom open so we could show off our projects.  Will you come to the art room?”

“Of course, I’ll come”, the CEO responded quickly.

“It would be my pleasure,” Korra added.

The walk down the hall took a couple of minutes and Akari took her parents, hands.  Walking between them made her feel warm, loved, and secure.  Once they entered the art classroom all three of them were amazed at the paintings, drawings and sculptures that littered the space.

“What did you want to show us?”

“Yes.  Where’s your work?”

“It’s over here.”  Akari led them to the far corner and opened the door to a small room.  She flicked on the light and all three entered.  Both parents saw the pastel drawing that Akari had made.  They let out an audible gasp.  In front of them was a replica of one of their wedding photos.

“Mama, you said you would grant wishes.  My wish is for you to come home.  I want us to be a family again.  Your separation is breaking my heart.”

Asami looked at her daughter and then at her wife, “I’m not sure we can do that, Lights.”

“It’s just not that easy,” Korra replied.

Akari lowered her face and some tears began to drop down her cheeks.  “I want you guys to talk to each other.  You’ve barely spent any time with each other since you left Mama.  You need to discuss stuff and I’m leaving.”  Akari exited the room and closed the door.  She sat down in a lump on the other side with her back against the entranceway.  “I’m staying right here until you guys talk so hurry up and get to it.”

Both women were stunned at their child’s behaviour.

“She gets her impulsiveness from you, Korra!”

“The fact that she planned this came from you, Asami!”

They stood silent for a few moments.  “I don’t hear you two talking.  Get to it.  I’ll stay here all night if I have to!!” Lights bellowed from beyond the door.

“I guess we should talk”, Asami began.  The conversation started in whispered tones so their daughter would not hear them.

“Agreed”, answered the Avatar and she continued, “I didn’t know that she had taken our separation so badly.  I think maybe we need to get her to talk to us more.  Or maybe talk to someone else if she doesn’t want to share with us.”

“Yes, absolutely.  I am worried about her.  She has unknowingly taken up sleepwalking as a nighttime hobby”, Asami stated.

“What?  I haven’t seen or heard her sleepwalk on Air Temple Island.”

Asami took Korra by the hands.  “Shhh.  She doesn’t know.  When she gets up and wanders around, I just lead her back to bed.  It’s only happened a couple of times but it’s starting to scare me.”

Korra tilted her head to the side like a puppy and tears began to leak from her ice-blue eyes.  “We have to do our best to help her.  She can’t feel like she is alone.  I need to do better.  I’m sorry for all this Asami.  It’s my fault.  This whole situation is my fault.”

“Korra, the situation with Akari is both our fault.  I made you leave the mansion.  That’s on me.  We both need to do better for her.”

"But this whole problem started with me.  You need to find some truth that I betrayed you because I did.  I did a stupid thing and even though I never had sex with that woman, my heart cheated on you and that’s just as bad," the Avatar said softly.  “It’s been over between her and me since the day I told you.  I don’t want Lights to know how much of an idiot I was six months ago.  It’s too much for me to bear.”

Asami cupped her hands around Korra’s face and wiped her tears away using her thumbs.  She leaned forward and kissed the Avatar’s forehead.

“Korra, come home,” Asami demanded gingerly as she looked into her wife’s soul.

“I can’t until you forgive me.  Please Asami, I need to hear you say it.”

“You’re forgiven.  I am doing this for you, for me, and especially for Akari.  She needs both parents under the same roof.”

Korra stopped crying and knocked on the door.  “Lights, are you still out there?"

“Yes.”

“Please let us out.  We’ve talked and I’m coming home.”

The door was flung open and Akari grabbed both her mothers in a hug.  She squeezed and squeezed and squeezed some more.  It was the best she had felt in a very long time.  She picked up her artwork and all three, a vampire, a witch, and their fairy godmother left the school and returned to the Sato Estate.

#korrasami #tlok fanfic #lok fanfic #lok #tlok #korra x asami #asami x korra

[carewyncromwell]

“Ballerina girl...you are so lovely... I can see in you my dreams come true -- Don't you ever go away...”

~“Ballerina Girl” by Lionel Richie

x~x~x~x

At last! Here’s that additional Ru/Estrid content I promised last week! It was so fun to draw your girl again after such a long time, @thatravenpuffwitch​! 💛 (Estrid’s leotard and tutu is based on the Victorian era ballet costume on the right of this photograph!)

My kelpie kid Ru’s main passion is photography, but they’re also enamored with Muggle animation. One of their favorite models ends up becoming their “keeper,” Estrid, particularly when she practices ballet. In Ru’s words, Estrid’s limbs “just move interestingly” when she dances. So here Ru is with their favorite model, very hard in concentration as they try to capture the grace of Estrid’s hands and feet. I frankly don’t blame Estrid for being a little startled by just how intense Ru’s gaze is...even when I showed my mum this sketch, she said she found their eyes very striking! 😊I actually have two other sketches of Ru in my sketchbook that I hope to finish editing, one as a kelpie and one in human form (hey, what can I say, it’s been fun to do content for them again after so long!), so hopefully those’ll be done soon too.

Much love, all! Happy holidays!! ❄️

#hphl #hogwarts legacy #my art #estrid soelberg #ru ollivander

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

When the Longing Returns (Phantom of the Opera 2004 Fanfiction) || Erik x Christine

Ch. 6 Author's Notes

Read the Fic here on tumblr or on AO3

◇ She glanced down and admired her ring, which had taken on a unique colour in the dank, low light of the canal; not red, nor green, nor gray but something which bridged all of them and bound them into one indescribable hue.

Imagine an effect like this

◇ I don't doubt you take wonderful care of him, and I know the stables for the stage horses are in the cellars in any case, but... only he must be awfully lonely, without the other horses..."

Book Canon: Chapter 7, "Faust and What Followed”: "What stable?" "Why, yours, sir. The stable of the opera." "Is there a stable at the opera? Upon my word, I didn't know. Where is it?" "In the cellars, on the rotunda side..."

◇ The little ballet brats to whom she gave sweets and told fairy tales idolised her; the aged seamstresses and tailors, who always found in her good taste and a helping hand, thought her the dearest creature in the world.

Leroux Reference: Chapter 12, "Above the Trap-Doors", another reference to Christine's relationship with the lower-ranking denizens of the opera:

"It is the dancing school, for those girls ages seven to nine or ten. Already they wear low-cut bodices, fluffy tutus, and pink stockings, and they work and work, their little feet aching, in the hopes of becoming ballerinas, or prima ballerinas, covered in diamonds. In the meantime, though, Christine gives them candy." "And so she took him all over her empire, which was artificial, but immense [...] and inhabited by an army of subjects. She passed among them like a popular Queen, encouraging their work, sitting in store-rooms, and giving good advice to those seamstresses whose hands hesitated to cut the rich cloth that was to clothe heroes. [...] They had all come to like her because she took an interest in their troubles and their little quirks."

◇ "I don't remember her very well... a professor’s widow who was very fond of Papa's music. Madame... Valerius..."

Book Character!: In the book, Madame Valerius, and her husband the Professor, are a wealthy couple from Gothenburg who discover Christine and her father performing at a fair. Mme. Valerius considers Papa Daae a musical genius and the couple immediately become the patrons of the fiddler and his daughter, bringing them to Brittany when Madame must move there for her health. The widowed "Mama" Valerius, as she becomes to Christine, then funds Christine's education at the conservatoire following Papa Daae's death, and Christine lives with her as her ward/adoptive daughter in an apartment on the Rue-de-Notre-Dame-Victoires. — In the canon of my story, Mme. Valerius was already a widow when she discovered Christine and Gustave. She would happily have taken Christine as a ward as she does in the book, but Christine is significantly younger here and the aged dame was too ill to take in a child; she did, however, pay for Gustave's funeral and burial, and left Christine an inheritance to be held in trust until her twenty-first birthday or until she marries. She's passed away by the time the story begins.

◇ That had been at the end of August, when the trees were still green...

ALW Reference: No one has yet commented on the reference to "Beneath a Moonless Sky" I sneaked into in Chapter 4, and that's fine. This one, however I do want to actually draw attention to. This is, of course, a reference to the most common lyrics to "Think of Me" in the stage version of PotO: "Think of August when the trees were green Don't think about the way things might have been" These lyrics were not used in the film, however; as with most of the songs, the older libretto from the original cast recordings was used. Because this line got axed from "Think of Me" in the film, I thought it would be a great opportunity for me to reference this here. "Think of Me" is often regarded as foreshadowing the "inevitably" ill-fated romance between Erik and Christine. And yet "Think of Me" has very little association with Erik. It's never referenced in any of his leitmotifs. It is, however, majorly featured with Christine and Raoul. Raoul recognizes Christine as she sings this song, and launches into his nostalgic recollections of their brief, youthful romance/crush over a single summer in Brittany. Immediately following Raoul's interruption solo, Christine resumes with this line: "Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade They have their season, so do we" "Think of Me" is referenced during "Masquerade", as Christine and Raoul have their little moment off to the side regarding their engagement, which Christine insists on keeping secret. So if this song indicates an ill-fated romance between Christine and anyone, isn't it really Raoul?

◇ She had poured the depths of her soul out to her good genius.

Leroux Reference: In the book, Madame Valerius is the only person who knows of Christine's secret lessons with "The Angel of Music". In fact, it is she who reinforces Christine's belief in the divine nature of "the Voice".

This phrase, which is rendered by Lowell Bair as "guiding spirit" and by Leonard Wolf as "Good guardian spirit", is used by Mama Valerius several times to refer to the Angel of Music (so called). The translation I have chosen to use is the phrase found in the original 1911 version.

Though Erik certainly is a genius by the best known definition of the word (an individual possessed of great talent or intellect. Alternatively, the talent or intellect belonging to such a person), its use here is in the more archaic, spiritual sense of its Roman origin (an attendant manifestation or spirit similar to a guardian angel.)

◇ Her poor wrist! God, what if he'd bruised it? If he'd marked her blameless skin with his unworthy hand? That alone would deserve death.

Leroux Reference:

In Chapter 22, “In the Torture Chamber”, during the book's climax, Christine (having clumsily attempted suicide by banging her head into the walls) is bound to a chair by Erik to prevent her from further harming herself.

In the course of events, she convinces him to untie her (an attempt to assist Raoul and the Persian, trapped in the torture chamber next door), and upon freeing her, Erik makes this utterance: “Oh, Christine! Your poor wrists! Have I hurt them? That alone is deserving of death.”

◇ When she, with tearstained face, but steady hand, had offered his mask back to him, those months ago in the lair, in that moment, Christine had become fully real to Erik. Neither a perfect angel, nor a mocking vixen, but a real woman; prey to curiosity, but capable also of understanding. And though—shaken as he was by her exposure of him—he had pushed it down so that it would not show on his face, his love for her, his desire to wed her, had never been so resolved.

This is a little homage to a quote by Hal Prince, the original director of musical, in reference to his interpretation the unmasking in the First Lair:

"She sees his face. We don't—the audience doesn't—but she sees what's behind that mask early in the evening. She recoils—wouldn't we all?—but then she does something very sensitive [she gives the mask back to him], and that's the moment when, I think, he falls in love with her."

I don't know that I fully agree with Hal here; I suppose his implication is that Erik's motivation up to this point has been primarily sexual.

It's my perspective, though, (especially in movie Canon, where Erik's emotional relationship with Christine has a lot more history) that Erik, of course, already loves Christine, but that this is a turning point: though Erik seeks to draw out Christine's confidence in herself and her desires as a woman, he is guilty of idealizing her in his head. Up to this point, she is a perfect fantasy angel who will love him for his voice and his music so much that what he's hiding behind his mask won't even be of import to her.

The Unmasking, though unquestionably a trespass by Christine, was a vital occurrence which shattered Erik's Fantasy Christine (embodied by the bride doll) and allows him to see her as the flawed human she is. In the moment of shattering, Erik lashes out at her for breaking these expectations and seemingly confirming his worst fears—she is a viper, a demon, a vixen; but when she, in an act of silent apology, returns his mask to him, the two Christines in his head resolve into one and he is able to see her as a whole person, a Living Bride, so to speak, and that depth only makes him lose himself to her more completely.

◇ That ring he had offered her as the token of himself and all his worldly goods suddenly weighed on him, for it was also a souvenir of the time of his greatest sins... the rosy hours of Mazandaran...

Leroux Reference: This ominously idyllic phrase "The rosy hours of Mazandaran" is used frequently in the book by both Erik and the Persian to refer to Erik's time working for the Shah—especially when concerning his work of torture and assassination.

Both recall this period negatively: Erik with resentment, The Persian with horror.

There's a cryptic mystique to this very specific phrase, and neither its origin nor meaning are ever fully explained in canon.

Depeche Mode References:

◇ The pain had been unbearable, the echoes of their joyous voices creating a beating in his brain....

From "Barrel of a Gun" off of Ultra:

“An unbearable pain A beating in my brain That leaves the mark of Cain Right here inside”

I imagine this is exactly how Erik felt listening to "All I Ask of You".

◇ “He seemed to crumble in front of her, uttering a pitiful sound.”

From “In Chains” off of Sounds of the Universe:

“I know I crumble when you are around Stutter, mumble a pitiful sound Stagger, stumble, shackled and bound In chains…”

This one is very out of context. It wouldn’t even count if I hadn’t added the line about him making a pitiful sound, but I was re-writing this paragraph and I saw the potential and couldn’t resist.

◇ He did not deserve her, but he suffered enough from greed that he would not refuse the mercy she offered him.

From "Mercy in You" off of Songs of Faith and Devotion: “You know what I need When my heart bleeds I suffer from greed A longing to feed On the mercy in you”

#phantom of the opera #poto #poto fanfic #poto fanfiction #phantom of the opera fanfiction #phan phic #when the longing returns #poto 2004 #gerik #erik the phantom #christine daae #the phantom of the opera #christine x erik #eristine #erik x christine #erik/christine #e/c #poto e/c #authors notes

[liemonyellow]

I posted 618 times in 2022

12 posts created (2%)

606 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thecrowssideblog

@imma-potatoo

@princeanxious

@lost-in-thought-20

@red-imeanblue

I tagged 564 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#janus sanders - 394 posts

#art - 302 posts

#remus sanders - 158 posts

#virgil sanders - 108 posts

#logan sanders - 88 posts

#incorrect quotes - 72 posts

#roman sanders - 60 posts

#daily reminder that janus sanders is gorgeous - 46 posts

#patton sanders - 45 posts

#anxceit - 37 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i know religious trauma is a whole thing in the series but i'm not religious and was raised buddhist so i have like no connection to it lol

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Crow's horrible challange:

Start writing a story using the prompt: "I'm going to close my eyes and count to ten. Maybe I'll convince myself you were never here if you won't be here when I open them." with any character you'd like and the tag 3 people who you want to continue it. You can give them their own prompts to include :D!

Virgil hadn’t even turned around from closing the door when he started speaking.

"I'm going to close my eyes and count to ten. Maybe I'll convince myself you were never here if you won't be here when I open them."

Janus should have known to expect such a cold welcome. He stared at Virgil’s back, willing him to turn around and hear him out, to notice and acknowledge him, even just to glare at him. The sharp interjection of Virgil’s counting cut through the air before he could speak.

“One.”

It had been instinct, to go to Virgil first. His former best friend. The one he once trusted more than anyone else.

“Two.”

Maybe Janus should have gone to someone else.

“Three.”

Patton wouldn’t have turned him away.

“Four.”

Maybe Logan would have tried to help.

“Five.”

Roman... Roman probably would have pretended he wasn’t there, too.

“Six.”

Remus would have stayed until the bitter end.

“Seven.”

He was already running out of time anyway. What did a few more seconds matter?

“Eight.”

But, if Janus was being honest with himself - and sometimes, he was - he just wanted to see Virgil one last time.

“Nine.”

Janus closed his eyes.

“Ten.”

No one was there when Virgil turned back around.

---

Wow, I wonder what happens next? Also, I never know who to tag, so write your own continuation if you want ;-;

133 notes - Posted March 15, 2022

#4

hate the sin, love the sinner

dukeceit week 2022 day 1: truth/dare

[Image Description: A colored drawing of Janus and Remus facing the viewer with the text "Truth? Or dare?" beneath them over a dark grey background. Janus is wearing a wide hat, a capelet, and long yellow gloves. He is making a shushing expression while holding out a bitten apple to the viewer. Remus is wearing his canon outfit of a black long-sleeve shirt with a green sash and embellishments. He is standing beside Janus with a devious expression and holding his morning star over his shoulder.]

@dukeceitweek​​​​ Thanks to @sanderdarksides​​​​ and @mimssides​​​​ for putting up with me while I worked on this XD

145 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

#3

oh, yee-aaaaah! it was like lightning!

dukeceit week 2022 day 2: mischief/dancing

[Image Description: A drawing of Janus and Remus dancing with joyous expressions in front of a dark grey background. Remus is standing slightly bent over, holding Janus by the waist. Janus is hanging upside-down with his legs crossing behind and above Remus' back and head. They are both wearing their skirt photoshoot outfits. Remus is wearing fishnets under a slime-patterned tanktop and a frayed tutu skirt. Janus is wearing a long black skirt, yellow opera gloves, and a black and yellow capelet.]

@dukeceitweek​ Thanks to @sanderdarksides and @mimssides for putting up with me while I worked on this XD

160 notes - Posted August 15, 2022

#2

I drew the boys for @sanders-spring‘s intruloceit day! God, I love them.

215 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

CW: eye contact

who’s really in control here?

dukeceit week 2022 day 4: wild/control

[Image Description: A stylized illustration of Janus and Remus in silhouette, lit from each side by green and yellow light. Janus is sitting in an armchair with his legs crossed and hands clasped in his lap. Remus is leaning on one side of the armchair with one arm draped across the back of the chair and resting a baseball bat on his other shoulder. Their faces are obscured, showing simplified smiley faces instead. Remus has a mustache and Janus has a snake eye and split tongue. The background is a swirl of green and yellow that fades to black from the center out.]

@dukeceitweek​​​​​​​​ Thanks to @sanderdarksides​​​​​​​​​ and @mimssides​​​​​​​​​ for putting up with me while I worked on this XD

216 notes - Posted August 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[ardmolii]

Can you draw Little Bits from Wander Over Yonder wearing a tutu and dancing ballet?

sounds adorable!I'll see what i can do uwu