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spynorth · 2 years

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I𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻. repost, don’t reblog

basics !

FULL NAME. Johnathan James Bateman NICKNAME. Lucas North (it’s an alias, yeah i know. hush up jan) GENDER. male. HEIGHT. 6′3 AGE. 39 ZODIAC. John is a scorpio (b. nov 3, 1983), Lucas North was a gemini (b. june 14, 1983) LANGUAGES. English, Russian, different levels of fluency in others HAIR COLOR. dark brown EYE COLOR. blue, but can be described as a stormy gray SKIN TONE. White BODY TYPE. Scientifically, he’s be classified as a mesomorph. Males with this bodytype are considered the ‘middle’ of the types. Characteristics include being lean and muscular simultaneously and having a natural athletics build with well defined muscles. After Russia, he definitely leans more toward ‘lean’, but the strength and definition is still there and he quickly gets both back. ACCENT. English, definitely. VOICE. deep. a low rumble that evokes the idea of distant thunder from a storm just on the horizon. he normally speaks fairly quietly, he’s one of those people who others immediately listen to when he speaks up - though whether that’s because of his voice, build or nature is up for debate. Though he changes the volume depending on the mood, his voice doesn’t often waver as far as pitch goes and his emotion is not so easily carried when he talks unless the person listens for subtle cues. DOMINANT HAND. Right hand. But he practices with both and he’s getting fairly good at using his left. POSTURE. While being the height he is can definitely come into play in a positive way during certain work scenarios, he’s well aware of how it can be a bit off putting or intimidating in more personal ones so he does what he can posture wise to offset that. He often leans against things or curls his shoulders forward towards whoever he’s talking to (think hunched in a way but not so obvious). If someone he cares about is distressed/upset with him or being confrontational, he instinctually sits down in a chair or on the couch or something so he’s not standing tall like some sort of wall for them to break themselves upon. But, if he is caught up in the argument as well and has a rare moment of passionate anger etc, he will stay standing. Fuck your comfort, he says. SCARS. He has a thin white line that goes from about the middle of his left elbow to halfway up his forearm from an injury as a child. The details on how he got it were often vague because he deems it unimportant, but it was a bike accident while he was messing around with a few friends as a lad. They were trying to play chicken and knock one another down a hill and he lost. The injury came from the pedal of his bike landing against his arm and dragging it across it as he tumbled down the dirt hill. He also has a small patch of skin along his back that was marked by a tattoo attempt gone wrong, but is now covered by one of the many ones he got in prison. TATTOOS. So fucking many, what the fuck. He gets them while in prison and tells Harry upon his return that tattooing was part of the culture there. All of his tattoos tie into the theme of knowing your identity and remembering who you are which of course can be taken as a means through which to remind himself not to lose himself while trapped in russia or a way to remind himself of the fact he is not lucas north, or a blend of both. i go with both. I could yell about his tattoos but thats for another day. This would be like novella style by the time it was done. BIRTHMARKS. not really a birthmark but he has three freckles that resemble orion’s belt across his right shoulder, but they are obscured by ink. MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). voice and height. When he allows others to see it, his smile is pretty damn noticeable too. But I think while those three things catch a person’s attention, the thing they walk away with is something else entirely. They’ll find themselves nonplussed about the meeting, casually making a remark in their thoughts about his height or his eyes.. but later, when they’re having a cup of coffee with friends that afternoon or when they’re climbing under the covers for sleep .. they’ll sudden stop as his face swims in front of them, and they’ll notice the sadness in his gaze that they hadn’t focused on before. That dark shadow that speaks of loneliness and want. Of wanting to be seen.

childhood !

PLACE OF BIRTH. While the show often mentions Cumbria, I’ve done a lot of thinking and I think this is one of those instances where Lucas North’s history overrides John’s as far as canon information given .. so I’m gonna throw that out and repeat one of the first headcanons that I posted. John Bateman was born in Abbotsbury, England. HOMETOWN. Abbotsbury. It’s a small village known for its history. John was born when it was fairly quiet, but as he aged, the village did as well. Over the years more inns started appearing for tourists and by the time he left, it was a fairly busy place with people coming in and out. He has not gone back. BIRTH WEIGHT. 7lbs 9oz BIRTH HEIGHT. Literally no idea. FIRST WORDS. Dog, followed by mum and dad. They had a small mixed dog that resembled a black and white sausage named Penny. John loved her. She passed away when he was 11 years old. SIBLINGS. He was the only child born to Paul and Christine Bateman PARENTS. Christine Bateman was a woman who loved poetry and often spent her time helping John make up silly rhymes or painting pictures of their village/places she dreamt of going while sitting in their front garden. She was 25 years old at the time of John’s birth. Paul was a quiet man, much more inclined to the mechanical side of things and while he did his best to encourage the love for creativity that his wife and son had, he did not understand it. He was 31 years old when his son was born. PARENTAL INVOLVEMENT. His mother was a woman who encouraged reading and playing games, singing in the sun. She often argued on John’s behalf when his father wanted help at one of his jobs and encouraged her son to enjoy the outdoors with friends. She instilled in him a love of poets which eventually led to John stumbling upon William Blake, whose works he admired so much that it became a bit of an obsession. Paul Bateman was a mechanically minded man that supported his family by essentially being the handyman for the village shops and inn. While originally focusing much of his time and work at the bed and breakfast known as number five, the increase in tourism as the years passed meant that as John aged, his father began taking on more and more jobs. He eventually was able to start being a one man service and hired on a few local boys to help as well. John was occasionally asked to come along or to help, but he complained the whole while

adult life ! OCCUPATION. He works for MI5 in section d, the counter terrorism branch. CURRENT RESIDENCE. London, England. More specifically, Clapham. CLOSE FRIENDS. Close friends? I mean, how close can someone be when they don’t know your true past? He considers people companions or close colleagues, but he doesn’t have many friends. RELATIONSHIP STATUS. In his main verse, Lucas is in a relationship with @everafteriing‘s Aurora Phillips, though given the nature of his job (and her career as well), he doesn’t often crow it from the rooftops. FINANCIAL STATUS. He’s comfortable. He saves his money and lives a pretty spartan lifestyle. DRIVER’S LICENSE. He has one, yes. CRIMINAL RECORD. John Bateman blew up a British Embassy in Dakar, killing 17 people. Lucas North, however, has no criminal record. VICES. He was into drugs and drink before assuming the role of Lucas North, but stays away from both nowadays. He’s seen as pretty straight laced by others as far as that sort of thing goes. SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Bisexual. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION. Demiromantic PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch LIBIDO. Fairly high, but he has a tight control on it. TURN ON’S. Confidence, intelligence, wit. Someone who is opinionated and isn’t afraid to speak up. He likes people who have their own lives and hobbies but also enjoy curling up together. TURN OFF’S. Prying, physical touch (them touching him, not the other way around), weakness, whiny, too dependent LOVE LANGUAGE. quality time together RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. He gets jealous though he tries not to show it. Will never butt into a conversation in an overprotective mine! kind of way, but he will rest his hand gently on his partner’s arm or slip his own around their waist. He’s bad at relationships and affection because it often means the other party is getting to close. Sex does not equal intimacy in his mind, but when he does find someone he truly wants to be intimate with, he melts. That hard exterior sort of disappears and he’s a fluff ball tbh. Very romantic but also in the cheap dollar store way. He isn’t one for fancy dinners etc but his partner will come home and find a little muffin with a candle in it or something. He will take them out to the fancy dinner thing if they’re into that. Though he really does enjoy walking through parks, etc , holding hands and maybe stopping to listen to a free concert. He also enjoys trips to art museums (only art museums) and novelty coffee shops.

miscellaneous !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. His playlist is HERE and literally every song fits my feelings towards him so well. But if i had to pick a select few from it - I’d say Control by Zoe Wees, The sound of Silence by Pentatonix, I’ll be Good by Jaymes Young, Failure by Breaking Benjamin, Doesnt Remind me by Audioslave and the instrumental version of Marilyn Manson’s Sweet dreams cover. Literally every song on that fucking playlist though. HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. He doesn’t really have a lot of hobbies. Work is his hobby. It keeps him busy. Though sometimes he’ll sketch out ideas for new tattoos or sketch people of interest he saw on the street if he feels like they might be important. MENTAL ILLNESSES. PTSD, Mythomania (compulsive lying) PHYSICAL ILLNESSES. None. LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. First I wanna point out that this theory has been proved dated and invalid and does in fact not really exist because no matter what sort of ‘task’ you are completing - you receive input from both sides of your brain. The only thing that has the potential to interfere with this is some mental illnesses. But I digress - I took a quiz built by a study and he uses both sides just about equally. 51% left brained and 49% right brained. FEARS. His carefully constructed role falling like ash around him. Losing everything he knows and loves if/when he does finally choose to come clean. SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. He is confident in his abilities and his smarts, etc. But not very confident within himself as a person in general. VULNERABILITIES. His entire past.

#i literally just pulled this out of my ass. i think like maybe THREE references to actual canon are in here but you know what #i love a good blank canvas to build on #i looked at this a month ago and said 'god no fucking way'#and the hardest part today was just typing it all up #i love that for me.#* headcanon. betrayal is a cancer. let it eat your soul. not mine.

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error-pleaseleaveamessage-error · 2 years

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(This is NOT a ship child.)

This is a fusion between (Corrupted) Nightmare and Dream! Everyone, I would like to introduce, Tension! (I recommend clicking the image for better resolution.)

Tension is a very unstable fusion. Nightmare and Dream don't fuse very often, and if they do it's not for a pleasant reason.

The longer they stay fused, the more difficult it is to stay together.

Tension isn't his own being, it's a combination of both Nightmare and Dream's decisions. It's as if they are just sharing a body. (Sometimes when they stay fused for too long, it's as if Dream and Nightmare disappear and become one whole being. They think and feel with the same reaction. Neither of them like this feeling.)

But, they're both always conscious, regardless of who's in control. (The color of their eyes shows who's most physically present. The green represents the two acting together instead of separately. This can also represent them 'blending' together into one being.)

They are slightly taller than the original undertale Sans. Although, with their boots, they're taller by around two-to-three inches.

Nightmare's goop is more controlled, but Tension is untouchable in those specific places. It still feels like burning acid. The giant crack Nightmare had is now visible because of this restraint.

The cape is not clothing, it's Nightmare's goop in form of it. It can shape at Tension's will. The sleeves are also not clothing, it's a layer of goop protecting the fragile bone underneath it. He can shape it into claws, shields, or anything else desired when needed. While this is an advantage, it's also a weakness, as Tension's skeleton form is weak.

Tension's soul is still an apple, however, because Nightmare's soul is so overwhelmingly negative, it's mostly made out of negativity. But, Dream is extremely resilient and does his best to seal it away. (Hence the golden layer surrounding it.)

The power between Nightmare and Dream is now combined. Tension's strength has increased and is often difficult to restrain. Dream isn't used to using tentacles, and Nightmare doesn't get his hands dirty often enough to be familiar with them. When battling, they take turns with their preferred methods. This is both an advantage and a weakness. (If Tension has his green eye while fighting, they are both cooperating and far more dangerous.)

They both maintain their old powers. Dream can still heal things, but it drains him much quicker due to the amount of negativity in their shared soul. Nightmare can still shapeshift and reconstruct himself, but positivity urks him much more than before. They keep their positive and negative auras, but because they are fused, it blends into a more neutral uneasy feeling whenever around him. This changes depending on their mood.

While fused, they do get a few new powers. They can travel to universes with both positive and negative energy. They can maintain a constant stream of energy, because they feed off emotions, meaning they'll always be rejuvenated. They can manipulate their own weight to be smaller or larger based on goop.

They have more weaknesses as well. They have a blind spot because of the skull crack. If they met someone emotionless, then they wouldn't be able to feed off their feelings. When using too much energy with no resources available, they tire not always physically but mentally, which makes it harder to stay fused. The longest they've stayed fused was for a few weeks, by the end of it they were very slow and hypersensitive, dripping with goop.

Speaking of, Dream's weapon is different. He can still summon his old bow, however, they collectively chose a more efficient weapon. They typically, although uncommonly, wield a staff or a spear.

They both have very different outlooks and goals, which often makes it difficult to function. However, when they do blend together, they have a quiet personality. They tend to stay away from conflict because it's very conflicting with their combined auras, but they are not introverted, they can hold a conversation very well. They are naturally intimidating, because of their aura, regardless if they're intending to be. Although polite, they are mostly self-centered. Not narcissistic, but specifically looking out for their best interest. (Despite that, they are people-oriented, choosing to revolve the conversation around his fellow chatter. He enjoys picking apart people's quirks and traits, it's fun to try and find the right thing to say that will either make someone open up more or curl in on themselves from shame.) Tension is reserved about themselves, sharing limited needed information, and never disclaims that they're a fusion unless there's a benefit. While they're careful about how they interact with people, considering their empathic abilities, they would not care very much if they hurt someone's feelings or helped them feel better unless it went against their current goal. In fact, Dream and Nightmare feed off those emotions respectively, so it would benefit Tension either way.

Dreamtale belongs to by @jokublog

Tension belongs to me!

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kurt-nightcrawler · 3 years

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Decay: part II

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: this talks about alcoholism, implications of sex, mentions of technical assault (Jessie kissed Warren while he was drunk and she made him think she was Mother Nature!), also we get into Warren’s backstory a bit. I’m not trying to make anyone out to be a villain, but the story overall is much more upsetting than usual.

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy! Not exactly the mood needed right now— I am very sorry, but I’m working on a much happier piece for Mother Nature and Warren! I’ll try to have it out before the end of the month!

Part 1 if you need a refresher!

Warren didn’t want to tell anyone about what happened. He wanted to pretend it never happened. To just hole up the memory of the night deep into his mind. He always hid and pushed away trauma. Why should this be any different?

His friends wanted to get Alex or maybe even Charles involved, but he protested.

“It’s my word against her’s.”

“Yeah, but everyone’s going to support you, and Jean and Charles are telepathic—”

“What can I really do? Press charges? If I do that then and use Jean or Charles to back me up, it becomes a whole mutant’s rights issue. It’s not worth it.”

(Y/N) hated seeing Warren look so defeated. Jessie going about Xavier’s unscathed by everyone who wasn’t close with Warren, and him thinking it was his fault.

(Y/N) had said she must have eaten something bad at the Halloween party, causing her to feel sick and sprout poison ivy. Also why all the plants died.

If Hank and Charles could tell she was lying, they didn’t say anything.

Rumors started amongst students about what had happened at the party— if Warren had actually cheated on (Y/N), if he did something to Jessie, or if Jessie forced herself onto him.

Warren didn’t like the rumors involving (Y/N) in the mess. He didn’t like the stares and whispers they got when people saw them together.

“Poor girl, staying with him even after he cheated.”

“Maybe she’s too naive to realize.”

“I knew they’d never work out— (Y/N)’s too good for him.”

“I bet he forced her into going out with him.”

“I mean… he’s not ugly—”

“Yeah, but he’s not a good person and (Y/N) is!”

It made him sick to his stomach. Warren didn’t force her into anything— and he thought he had changed, that people were finally trusting him.

Guess he was wrong.

—

Warren wasn’t even paying attention in his environmental sciences class. They were watching a video on how a plant species can be invasive, required to take notes on it.

Warren was texting (Y/N), phone brightness turned down all the way. He just wanted to go to bed for a while and ignore the real world.

When the bell rang, dismissing students, Alex told everyone they’d finish the video, next class.

Warren got up to leave, but Alex stopped him.

“You doing alright?”

“Uh, yeah.” He lied. “I’m not in trouble am I?”

Alex hesitated to answer.

“No.”

Warren nodded, noticeably nervous.

“There’s a rumor going around saying you assaulted Jessie Rowe.”

Warren’s heart fell into his stomach. “I didn’t.”

“Okay… But something happened, didn’t it?”

Warren didn’t respond.

“Warren, you have to tell me what happened.”

“I got tipsy and she kissed me. I thought she was (Y/N), but then (Y/N) walked in and Jessie tried to act like I tried to kiss her.”

Warren’s eyes were pleading— pleading for Alex to not get mad at him for drinking, or mad at him for not speaking sooner.

“Um, no one got hurt, and now there’s just a rumor going around, so you can like, give me detention for drinking or whatever it’s fine—”

“I’m going to have to tell Professor Xavier,” Alex told him.

“Please don’t tell him I was drinking! I can’t— I won’t—”

Alex could see the desperation in his eyes. Warren had nowhere else to go. He, like many other students, depended on Xaiver’s entirely.

“You’re a good kid Warren— you’ve opened up to others, you were sober for almost six months, you have a good group of friends and even a girlfriend— Charles isn’t going to punish you. I just don’t want you to spiral down and lose all the progress you’ve made…”

“I just,” Warren rubbed his eyes. “Don’t wanna make a big deal about it. I’d rather it just blows over. Everyone will eventually forget about it anyway.”

“Are you aware of the rumors involving (Y/N)?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so, this involves her and Jessie. I know—”

Alex and Warren turned their heads to the door. Someone was opening it.

(Y/N) stepped inside. Warren hadn’t shown up to the library during their shared free period like he said he would, so she was worried about him. Plus, he hadn’t been doing too well since the Halloween party…. Neither of them had been.

Her eyes were pink and purple— she was full of worry for her boyfriend.

“Oh!” She gaped, soon as she saw Warren and Alex sitting at his desk, in the middle of what looked like an important conversation.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” She asked.

“No. You can stay.” Warren told her. (Y/N) dragged a chair over and sat next to him.

“Right, as I was saying, Charles isn’t going to expel you, but he might want to make a police report. I’m not sure what good it will do, but—”

“I don’t want to. It’s not going to do anything but cause problems.”

(Y/N) was immensely confused. She had no idea what they were talking about.

“We’re gonna talk to Jessie, maybe a few of your friends, and knowing Charles, he won’t expel either of you. We’ll do everything we can to get the rumors to stop…”

Oh! It finally clicked in her mind.

It was about the party.

“Okay… Thank— thank you, Alex.”

“Yeah, we should go to Charles’s office— what class do you guys have next?”

“I have lunch.”

“AP art.”

“That’s… Ms. Burnwood, right, (Y/N)?”

She nodded.

“I’ll make sure your absence is excused.”

“Thanks.”

Alex took them up to Charles’s office. Warren then explained everything that happened, while trying to not get his friends in trouble for also drinking.

Jessie was brought up to Charles’s office and questioned. She caved pretty easily, with (Y/N) glaring at her the whole time, and amid their telepathic principal, lying wouldn’t do her any good.

Jessie was “grounded”— she couldn’t leave campus during the semester until after Thanksgiving break— she was also to stop encouraging the rumors, and had to talk with one of the school counselors once a week until they deemed it no longer necessary. Jessie’s parents weren’t in the picture, so notifying them wouldn’t do any good.

Warren’s punishment was less severe, he couldn’t be out later than nine on weekends, (just until Thanksgiving break) and he was required to go to group therapy to help him deal with his former alcoholism and past traumas, for the rest of the school year.

—

“You don’t have to tell me what goes on at group therapy.” (Y/N) told him.

“I know.”

“You don’t have to tell anyone.”

Warren smiled a little, “I know.”

“Okay…” (Y/N) kisses his cheek.

Warren wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I hope it goes well… it should.”

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah… Here,” Her hand was in a fist. When she opened it, she revealed a daisy and a four-leaf clover.

“You don’t really need luck or anything but, um, I thought, you know—“

Warren accepted the small gift, taking it from her hand. “Thanks, baby. I love it.”

—

Group therapy was awkward. Warren hated it. He knew it would be good to talk about… well, everything, probably, but he had a hard time opening up to total strangers.

“Alright, in case you’re new or don’t remember, my name is Allison… We have a new member with us today, he’s going to be with us for a while.” Allison looked at Warren. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“Okay… Um, my name is Warren.”

Everyone replied with, “Hi, Warren.”

“And um, I’m a mutant.”

Allison smiled, “That’s great! Do you go flying a lot?

“Uh, yeah.”

“What kind of metal are your wings made of?” A girl with washed-out blue hair asked.

“Titanium, I think.”

“Well, Warren, welcome to the group,” Allison interjected, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Now, we’re going to do an ice breaker of sorts, and then just have like, regular conversation. We can all go around and say our favorite color and why.”

Warren blinked. He didn’t— he didn’t have a favorite color.

“And don’t say you don’t have a favorite color. If you can’t pick a favorite, choose one you hate the least… We can start with Trey.”

Warren thought of color options—

Black? No. Black wasn't his favorite, despite being 95% of his wardrobe. It absorbed the most light, helping him blend in with the darkness and look tough, something he needed in Germany.

Blue— The color of Kurt— his roommate and friend, who he tried to kill. Twice. Something he still felt remorse over. And Apocalypse. The man who gave him the metal wings and tattoos, forcing him to aid in mass destruction, only to leave him for dead when he was no longer useful.

Red— the color of Alex’s plasma beams. And how the Horsemen were a result in him almost dying.

White and Silver— the colors of his wings. Past and present. How each reflected hardships from Warren’s life. How he hated them and a child and almost resorted back to that self-deprecation when they shifted into metal and the consequences finally sank in.

But what about green? The color of healthy plants that thrive. The color of (Y/N)’s eyes when she’s happy.

Warren liked the color, despite (Y/N)’s eyes rarely being green around him. However, it didn’t mean she was unhappy with him.

Her eyes were pink around him. A way of saying “I love you” without actually saying it. The pink meant she cared about him more than most people— that she trusted him, accepted him for who he was despite his past, and that she would be there for him when he needed her.

Not many people could say they would do those things for Warren, or that they had.

His father cared more about the family name and how his son couldn’t possibly be a freak. His mother didn’t want his wings to tarnish her image, and while she was still his mother, she left him on his own most of the time.

And how all his past relationships and flings— they didn’t have much meaning. There was never any real affection behind them. They saw the cage fighting king and wanted a piece of that.

(Y/N) looked past all of that. She saw how he responded to what life threw at him. She saw the tough guy act, the big softie, the broken boy who ran away in fear, the man who thought he wasn’t good enough— she brought out his good side, making him realize he deserved happiness, love, and a home, that when you hit rock bottom, you can only go up from there.

He decided pink was his favorite color, because it showed someone cared for him in ways he wasn’t used to. He would do anything to keep it around forever.

“Warren, what’s your favorite color?”

“Pink.”

He got a few funny looks. They were probably expecting him to say black, based on his general aesthetic.

“And why is that?”

“Um, it’s my girlfriend’s eye color… she’s also a mutant.”

Allison smiled, “That’s very sweet.”

She moved on to the next person, “Rose, what’s your favorite color?”

She said, “Green.” But Warren wasn’t paying attention to why.

The ice breaker eventually ended, and Allison shifted the discussion to other things.

“Now Warren, since you’re new, usually new members spend most of their first meeting talking about themselves. Just so we can get to know you and whatnot.”

“Okay… um… anything specific you want to know?”

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“Okay… So, I was born into a really small family. Just me, my mom, my father, and his brother. I don’t really know what happened to my grandparents. I never asked...

When I was three we moved from Westminster to Centerport.”

“Where’s that located?”

“Oh, uh, Westminster’s close to London.”

Allison looked impressed.

“I went to a private all-boys school when I was little. I don’t remember the name of it though.”

“Were you born with your wings?” Allison asked.

“No.” Warren responded. “They started to grow when I was eleven… I was terrified. I spent almost every day trying to rip them out… but once all the feathers are gone, you’re left with nothing but bone. It hurt like hell, but I used a pocket knife and a razor to try and cut them or at least file the bone down.”

“It wasn’t hard… but it hurt a lot. I spent so much time worrying about my wings and if people would discover them, that I started to fall behind in school… I wasn’t like failing or anything, I had access to all kinds of tutors and everything, but my parents quickly found out I was falling behind. My father was barely aware, telling my mom to ‘deal with it.’ She tried her best, but I was so scared of them discovering my wings…”

Warren sighed, “My parents had a beach house in Italy, and we were supposed to go there for my fall break. I was so terrified. I couldn’t go swimming, they’d see my wings… But I couldn’t find a way out of the trip. I was twelve at the time and my mom… She saw my back when I came out of the shower...”

“She screamed, and my father came running to us. When he saw my back, he was disgusted. The look on his face was drilled into my skull for years. And it wasn’t even that bad, they were just growing back after being cut, so they weren’t even that big… but I just remember how scared my mom was, and how disgusted my father was… I just started crying and apologizing, but it didn’t do anything.”

“We left our trip four days early and I was pulled out of school. My parents decided to homeschool me, which basically meant, cut all contact with everyone from school and have a few tutors come to the house.”

“Did you have contact with anyone outside of your home?”

“I saw some family friends, and one or two kids of my parent’s friends… my parents hired countless doctors and all kinds of people, doing tests on me, trying to find a “cure”. Every time they failed my parents just got more upset— I was becoming a waste of time and money. They were becoming more distant and cold, wrapping themselves up in their work, and I was locked up.”

“What happened to your wings?”

“My mom said the scars they would leave were ugly, but I was forced to let them grow out.”

“My parents were arguing a lot, always sad or angry… mostly because of my wings… I was getting tired, tired of hiding, tired of the arguing, I wanted it all to stop…”

“Can you please stop?” Warren thought he was going to cry.

His father glared at him, disgusted by the wings, and how his son was on the verge of tears.

Warren could hear his parents arguing from down the hall. That’s all they seemed to do when they were home— fight.

Warren blamed himself. If he was just normal. If he didn’t have those damn wings!

He wanted them to stop. He’d do anything to make them stop.

Warren thought about getting on to the roof and jumping. Not even flying down, just falling to his end. His end of suffering, and his loveless, lonely existence.

“Are you going to do it?”

Warren looked over his shoulder to find his father standing behind him. Watching him peer out the highest window in the house.

“No! I— I’m sorry! I wasn’t—”

His father scoffed. “Did I raise a coward?”

Warren couldn’t look him in the eyes. “No sir.”

“I’ve scheduled for you to have spinal surgery next week. Your doctor is coming to prep and evaluate you for it. This surgery should fix you.”

Warren’s eyes were closed, trying not to imagine the pain, trying to not cry in front of his father.

“Or you can fall out the window… in a freak accident.”

“So I jumped out the window. I didn’t fall to my death as he had hoped, but I flew. I flew far away. I flew across the Atlantic for a few hours before I started to get tired. I spotted a ship and I got close. It was a fishing boat, a large one. The crew let me stay for the night until they went back to land… After that, I flew from São Miguel to Cascais. From there I just kind of fucked around Europe.”

Warren sighed. Allison told him to take all the time he needed and he could stop if he wanted for the day. Let someone else talk.

Warren nodded and kept quiet for the rest of the meeting.

—

Alex picked him up when the meeting ended. Alex didn’t ask about the meeting. It wasn’t his business and he knew Warren would talk when he was ready.

“Where do the others think I went?” Warren asked.

“Training. They’re busy anyway, most didn’t notice you were gone.”

Warren silently nodded.

Alex pulled into Xavier’s garage, parking and letting Warren slip out and go up to his room.

Warren kicked his shoes off and laid on his bed, putting in his earbuds and playing some soft songs.

(Y/N) was heading up to Warren’s room to use his shower. She was covered in paint, for she helped clean up after the fourth graders used the art room.

(Y/N) knocked on the door, making sure no one was there before she entered.

Warren didn’t hear her and (Y/N) almost didn’t notice him laying on the bed. When she did, however, her entire demeanor changed.

“Hi, Angel!” She went over to practically smother him in light kisses.

Warren pulled out his earbuds and smiled. “Hi, Flower.”

“When did you get home?” She asked, scooting over to the open side of the bed.

“Like ten minutes ago. What have you been up to?”

“I got paint all over me,” (Y/N) frowned. “I was going to take a shower and wash it off.”

“You can do that. I was just kind of laying here.”

(Y/N) bit her lip, unsure of how to handle the situation.

“If you disassociate your whole day will feel off. You should take a nice relaxing shower with me, instead.”

Warren chuckled.

“Not like that, Bird brain!” She exclaimed. “We can use one of my lush bath bombs and my rose-scented exfoliator.”

“Are you saying I smell?” Warren joked.

“Eh,” (Y/N) shrugged before slipping her bra off and throwing it in the hamper.

Warren scoffed and wrapped his arms around (Y/N), peppering her neck in kisses. “How dare you!” He teased.

“Ah!” (Y/N) laughed. Warren’s lips on her neck tickled her skin. “That’s why I’m going to bathe.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll join you.”

(Y/N) hummed in victory, wiggling out of Warren’s grip, and headed into the bathroom to grab her stuff.

The last time she used the girls’ communal showers was before they were even dating. (Y/N)’s toothbrush made its way into Warren and Kurt’s bathroom, then her shampoo and conditioner, and then eventually most of all her other hygiene products.

(Y/N) set her soap and other things on the edge of the tub and drew up warm water, filling the bathtub up about halfway.

She sprinkled in rose petals and got Warren into the bathroom. They both stripped off their clothes and stepped in the tub. A bit difficult, for Warren had to fold his wings back and get in first, with (Y/N) practically sitting in his lap, face to face, but they made do.

(Y/N) dropped an orange bath bomb in the water and grabbed her jar of exfoliating scrub, rubbing it on her arms and legs to help remove the paint.

Warren closed his eyes and rested his chin on her shoulder.

“How’d it go today?” (Y/N) asked as she grabbed a bar of soap and rubbed it onto her skin.

He didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry…” She murmured.

“Don’t apologize. It wasn’t terrible… I talked a little bit about my parents.”

(Y/N) nodded as she applied her rose exfoliator onto Warren’s skin.

“I’m really sorry…” Warren let out. He sounded as if he was on the verge of tears.

“Baby,” (Y/N) looked into his eyes. “it’s okay.”

“I— I just—“ Warren hiccuped, letting out a choked sob and releasing some tears from his eyes.

(Y/N) rubbed his back, avoiding the tender spot around his wings, whispering, “Let it out, it’s okay, Angel.”

Warren silently cried into (Y/N)‘s shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him in comfort. The emotions he felt almost made him sick— love and affection— and a lot of it too. He couldn’t remember a time before when he felt like that. He never wanted to leave (Y/N)‘s embrace.

Warren lifted his head up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Sorry— um—“

“It’s okay.” (Y/N) cupped his face in her hands, leaving a kiss on each cheek. “Want me to wash your hair?”

Warren nodded.

“C’mere—” (Y/N) grabbed the shampoo from the bathtub ledge, pouring some in her hands, and then lathering it into Warren’s mop of curls.

Her hands gently massaging his scalp felt like a touch of heaven to Warren. He didn’t want to cry again, but he couldn’t help himself. (Y/N) was heartbroken at her boyfriend’s demeanor, but it was good he was letting it all out.

She finished washing his hair and drained the tub— them both getting out— Warren holding onto (Y/N) as she gently dried them both off.

“Thank you, He mumbled.

“Of course, Baby…”

—

Most of their dates shifted to either being at the mansion or during the day. Warren felt bad, having to limit things for them, but (Y/N) didn’t care.

“We can do more stuff during the day… And at night all our friends will be gone… We’ll be all alone…” (Y/N)’s tone was almost teasing. Warren had to chuckle to himself, she was doing her best to make the situation work.

His second group meeting was set a bit later in the day, around 6 pm on a Saturday. Warren told (Y/N) he probably wouldn’t be back until after dark.

“Call me if you need me. I’ll be here—” She motioned to her empty bedroom.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” He teased.

“You too, Baby.”

Warren drove himself to his second group therapy meeting. Alex offered to drive again, but Warren felt bad having him taking time out of his day to drive him to group therapy.

Not everyone who was at the first meeting was at the second one— but Warren saw some familiar faces.

“Hey, Warren! Welcome back,” Allison greeted him.

“Hi.”

He took a seat near a guy in a grey hoodie with an eyebrow piercing.

“Alright everyone, we’re going to go around, say our name, and if we have any pets. If you don’t that’s okay! You can say, what kind of animals you’re interested in. Let’s start with Collin…”

Warren zoned out for a bit until it was his turn. He didn’t have a pet, and he didn’t really have an interest in a specific animal. People made jokes about him being a bird, but he didn’t necessarily have a connection with them.

“I don’t have a pet… My girlfriend has a lot of plants though…”

“Ooo! What kind?”

“Um… Almost all kinds— her mutation helps grow them and stuff…”

“That’s cool.” Someone commented.

Warren awkwardly nodded. The ice breaker continued around the circle, and when finished, Allison had some people give updates on how they had been since the last meeting, others talked about how they were feeling in general.

“Warren—”

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Do you want to continue talking from where you left off last week?”

“I can, sure.”

The floor was given to him, and Warren continued his “backstory”.

“I ended up in Germany. Messing around, staying overnight on stranger’s couches. I tried to find work, but it was hard being almost 15 at this point and no papers… I ran into muggers and they tried to, well, rob me, but I fought back. I wasn’t very good but it got them off and away from me… I ended up in a bar… The last thing I remember was falling asleep and then waking up in a locker room of sorts. A bunch of men shouting in German, um, some in English, but basically I was told to go out into ‘the ring’. People were watching— shouting and cheering, for the other guy in the ring. He was kind of short and hairy, but he had these claws, and he could really kick ass. I barely made it out of there— I didn’t win— but I didn’t die. People enjoyed watching us. They cheered, calling him Wolve-something, and they called me, Angel.”

“I wanted to leave, but the people running the ring gave me some money and I found a place to stay for the night… the job offers weren’t exactly lining up… so I agreed to more fights. I got really good, fighting other mutants, probably in the same situation as me, but I quickly realized, kill, or be killed…”

Warren quickly realized people had very concerned looks on their faces. “I didn’t kill anyone! But I did beat them up pretty badly— the more fights I won the more money I got— and it was that or die… I did it for about two years before I met someone…

I was alone at a bar, I was bruised and a bit bloody, and this girl with purple hair came up to me. She was one of the guards in the fight club— she worked for some guy named Caliban, I think. I don’t remember… Anyway, her name was Betsy. She said she’d been watching me for a while, saying my fighting was impressive but could be improved… Uh, She offered to help me out, and we went back to her place. She helped clean up the blood on me, and um, then we made out, and I spent the night… This went on for a while, she’d watch me fight and give me tips and pointers, and we’d make out and stuff…”

“How long is, awhile?” Allison asked.

“Um, Like two-ish years? I don’t know— but um, we had this like thing going on, and I thought we were maybe dating? I dunno. But whatever we had I fucked up.”

Warren groaned as Betsy aggressively pressed her mouth against his. He had just won another fight and went back to her place to “celebrate”.

“God, B… I love you...”

Betsy froze, her body tensing up.

“What?”

Warren panicked, her face did not seem pleased. “It slipped out— I’m sorry—”

“No… You don’t mean it… We can’t be together.”

“What do you mean?” He asked. “I thought we were together.”

“Angel— this isn’t a relationship— we just fuck while I give you some pointers on your punches.”

“I know this isn’t traditional, we don’t go out on dates—”

“You don’t love me! We’re too young— I’ll lose my job. I spend all this time one you so I don’t lose my job, you’re the best fighter—”

“You keep me trapped here?” Warren asked, slowly piecing things together.

“It’s not like that—” She tried to explain.

“I’ve tried to quit fighting for almost a year now! I told you I wanted to leave, and this whole time you’ve been keeping me here?”

“You’re young and naive, and I’d lose my job, everything—”

Warren stood up, ignoring Betsy’s excuses.

“Where are you going?”

“Away. Since we’re not together and I don’t love you.” Warren slammed the door behind him and headed back to the ring. He needed to let out his anger.

—

Warren went on a winning streak— he won ten fights in a row— the feeling was borderline euphoric, the crowds cheering for their champion, Warren getting to sink someone’s teeth in or watch them fall to the ground.

Warren was amped up for his eleventh fight— the announcer was talking about his next opponent—

“The Incredible Nightcrawler!”

A lanky, devil looking, blue boy fell out of a cage onto the floor of the ring. Warren circled him for a moment before meeting him on the ground.

He wasn’t fighting, just teleporting around the cage in small bursts.

“Fight!” Warren yelled at him. “Or they’ll kill us both!”

The blue boy looked terrified, but he fought back when Warren attacked him.

At one point he managed to drag Warren against the side of the electric cage, burning his wing.

“Ah!” Warren cried out in pain. Suddenly he saw the blue devil escape from the bottom, so in a risky move, he flew up and ripped off the upper walls of the cage, and flew out. His flying was wonky and jagged for one of his wings was broken.

Warren had nowhere to go, so he went back to the one place he shouldn’t have—

Betsy’s place.

—

“I was drunk as shit and angry and this blue wrinkly man came with Betsy and some other girl I didn’t recognize, and he just held his hand out and metal grew out of my back and on top of my wings. I was healed, in a way, but also it kind of ruined my life. The blue man also just held his hand out and gave me these tattoos…”

“You weren’t one of the horsemen with Apocalypse, were you? Like last spring I think… Out in Cario?” One girl in the circle asked.

“Yeah… Um, I never killed anyone, and I don’t do that anymore. The X-Men took me in and I’m trying to get my shit together.”

“We don’t judge here, and from what I’ve heard, the X-Men do great things! Like the Fantastic Four and Spider-Man.” Others in the group murmured in agreement.

“You’re built like a transformer dude,” The guy sitting next to him commented.

“Thanks…”

“I think you can do a lot of good, Warren. You’ve spent a lot of time running from your problems, but you seem like you’re grounded now… I was told you came here because you relapsed.”

“It was an accident— I haven’t drank since.”

“And that’s good! It can be really hard to open up and talk about your past, but you did it…”

Warren nodded along to what Allison said.

“I think you can do even better if you acknowledge your mistakes and learn from them… and don’t be afraid, don’t push them into the back of your mind… I think— if you haven’t already— talk to your girlfriend about some of this. Doesn’t have to be a lot or all at once, but being open and honest does good in relationships.”

“Yeah, um, sounds good.” Warren’s heart fell into his stomach. He was terrified to talk about all of this with (Y/N).

She didn’t deserve the burden. (Y/N) was this innocent, happy, light in his life. Warren didn’t want to ruin that.

He thought (Y/N) was too good for him, and she would eventually realize that and leave him.

But he trusted her. He trusted (Y/N) with his life. Perhaps a bit foolish, but he rarely ever felt sure about those types of things. He decided to trust his intuition.

—

Warren drove home in silence.

He pulled into the garage and put the keys on the key rack before heading up to (Y/N)’s room.

He didn’t even bother knocking on the door. He just walked right in and flopped onto the bed, in (Y/N)’s lap.

She was surprised, but she quickly came to her senses and tried to figure out what happened.

“Baby?...” (Y/N) looked down at Warren’s face as she tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear.

“I…” Warren burst into tears, all his bottled up emotions coming out at once.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Warren sat up and (Y/N) hugged him tightly.

“I have… things… I want to tell you… about my past…” Warren scrunched his nose.

“My parents and other stuff… but I’m scared.” He admitted.

“Warren, baby, I’m not going anywhere. Tell me whatever you need to, whenever you feel ready, okay?”

He slowly nodded, still crying.

(Y/N) kissed his forehead and rubbed his back, being silent and supportive.

“Can… Can you promise me… Promise me you won’t leave because of my past. I’ve done really bad shit and—”

“I promise I’m not going anywhere. I mean it.” She reassured him.

Warren wiped his nose with the back of his hand, his tears slowing down.

“Thanks…” He mumbled.

“Of course, anything for you, Angel.”

#warren worththington x mother nature #warren worthington #warren worthington iii #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington iii x reader #x-men oneshot #x-men x reader #xmen x reader #ben hardy x reader #xmen oneshot #warren worthington iii x mother nature #angel x reader #archangel x reader #warren worthington iii x you #warren worthington x you #mother nature reader

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elmidol · 3 years

Text

Rogue Order - Chapter 2 (of 4)

Summary: You are a barista in the coffee shop that Armitage Hux goes to every morning. He’s polite, however has never cracked a smile. One day, you decide to try to change that by giving him a little treat. Things wind up going much better than planned.

Read on AO3

Chapter 1

Pairing: Armitage Hux/Reader

Rating: M; This chapter contains nsfw content (masturbation)

for @terry2227

notes: Modern Day/Coffee Shop AU; outline for fic was written by terry2227

Chapter Two

Taking multiple orders and enjoying the sight of freshly fallen snow the previous day had indeed aided you in selecting which flavor of coffee you would serve Armitage when he arrived in the morning. The discussion of hot chocolate had not faded into the background as expected. Instead it had inserted itself repeatedly, encouraging you towards a semi-sweet flavor. You readied the ingredients before Armitage was set to arrive meanwhile your co-worker, Remi, took care of other matters in First Rogue.

You opted to grab a sugar substitute to help prevent a sugar rush then subsequent crash while he worked; from there you ground up a semi-sweet dark chocolate into a finer composition along with some ginger and cinnamon. The cardamom and cloves were pre-ground, and the salt and white pepper were also easy to secure. Mixing the ingredients together did not take very long. You put them all into an airtight container, shook it, and then set aside the container until Armitage was visible through the large window.

Armitage Hux was running behind schedule by four minutes when he entered the coffee shop. It was time that he hoped to make up during the drive into the city. Thus he did not spent much time speaking with you as he otherwise might have. He walked up to the counter and opened his mouth to state the usual when you spoke first instead, informing him that you had already selected the flavor, if he did not mind. Armitage closed his mouth, pausing. He had forgotten that this had been prearranged the previous day. Clearing his throat, he nodded and asked the price of the drink. You stated the amount that he paid for his usual. Aware that it would be rude to press the issue--and not having the time to do so--he withdrew his wallet from his pocket, took out the cash, and handed the bills to you.

His eyes tracked your every move as you turned your back, changing places with your coworker in order to prepare his drink. Armitage considered the fine powder that had been premixed. This you measured out into roughly three tablespoons that you deposited into his cup before pouring in some of the shop’s freshly brewed coffee. You poured in a minimal amount of dairy-free creamer, mixed the drink again, put on the lid, and brought the cup over to him. “The flavor?” he asked whilst sliding one foot backwards in retreat.

“Chocolate chai. It shouldn’t be too sweet,” you responded, earning a nod of acknowledgment from Armitage. You found yourself holding your breath, wondering if he planned on tasting the coffee in front of you. He was late, which you knew. It was little surprise when he offered a small wave with two fingers then headed for the door. Your mood threatened to devolve into a semi-melancholy state, however he called over his shoulder that he would tell you his opinion the next morning. That set your heart fluttering like he often did merely by walking into First Rogue. You rocked forward on your feet, drawing up on your tiptoes then rolled back into a proper standing position.

Remi was not oblivious to these actions, and she shot you a knowing look when the door to the coffee shop closed behind Armitage’s retreating form. Unlike another of the baristas that you worked with, Remi was not one to push boundaries or make public the fact that you were obviously smitten with a patron of First Rogue. You liked that about her, appreciated it more in that moment than you ever had before. Once the shop emptied, the pair of you could gush about things, could giggle like school girls or whatever might come to pass. In the meanwhile, she was satisfied to offer that look then return to her work as you did the same, a smile spreading widely across your face.

On the other side of town, at the turnoff to exit and head for the city, Armitage glanced at the chocolate chai coffee with interest. He had not yet taken a sip despite finding that, in the closed quarters of his vehicle, he quite enjoyed its scent. Armitage considered the fact that he should try at least a sip before the beverage chilled. He waited until he approached the next red light then cradled his hand around the cup, tugging it upwards and out of the holder towards his mouth. Its scent was more appealing as he brought it closer. Saliva gathered, forced him to swallow before he took that first drink.

The warm liquid pooled over his tongue, toying with his taste buds. There were layers of flavor. Hints of sweetness coupled with spice along with the more familiar taste of First Rogue’s coffee blend. The chocolate portion, which he had initially believed would be sickeningly sweet, had a light bitterness to it that he found to be palatable. Armitage took a second sip within seconds of the first then a third. He replaced the drink into the holder due to the light changing from red to green. Though he had recovered only two of the four minutes thus far of time, he decided that he would make the most of the day. This drink in particular soothed his mood. He would have to remember that. Perhaps keep a series of notes for the various flavors that you experimentally handed to him—if, of course, you were interested in continuing this trend.

Armitage glanced again at the clock on his car’s dashboard. It struck him that you had been attentive to his interests alongside his usual order. He, on the other hand, knew your name and profession. Your schedule, although that fell under profession in his opinion. He did not know much else about you, which he had never much given thought to. When you had questioned him regarding hot chocolate, he had failed to inquire about the same. This was the first time he felt that perhaps he had been rude to you. Were his manners always so lax when he was not at work?

He could recall your face, the general shape of it and the color of your hair, however if he tried to place color to your irises, he was left second-guessing himself. This was not a desirable position. Reliance upon a faulty memory could doom a business deal; Armitage prided himself on memorizing each detail of a transaction along with the faces, names, and basic information of those involved. He did admittedly take for granted such items when it came to his personal life—was that what you were, a part of his personal life? It was more intimate in nature than simply to say that you worked at a coffee shop that he frequented. You were no colleague of his, yet before this moment he had not considered you as an individual that would potentially reach the role of casual acquaintance. To refer to you as a friend or companion would be premature and far too intimate given the limited amount of information he held.

This would be remedied the following morning, during which time he could deliver his impression of the chocolate chai coffee. Depending on how much work he finished over the day and what arrangements he completed in the evening once he was home, Armitage would decide if he would return to his regular drink or not for a stretch of days. His usual order assisted in preventing headaches, of which he frequently suffered due to stress that was work related though equal parts because of Brendol’s interference with his life. He grabbed hold of the coffee at the thought, drank a more generous amount than previous, and noisily swallowed the liquid, not enjoying it quite as much as mere moments ago. He ran his tongue across his lips then sucked on his tongue as though that would resummon the flavor that had barely had time to caress his taste buds.

---------

When midafternoon rolled around and your shift came to an end, you did not leave First Rogue as you might otherwise have. Instead you grabbed one of the smaller tablets of paper that was available to you along with a pen then moved to a table near the window. The light was not too glaring despite the way it reflected off gathered snow. Judging from how Armitage had requested his usual the previous day, you were aware that there would likely be mornings where this would be repeated. In the meanwhile, composing a list of the coffees you wished to present to him—for as long as he would allow—would offer you things to look forward to. You could have more flavors prepared or else ensure that you had all ingredients. This way you could select one of the flavors based on Armitage’s disposition when he walked into First Rogue.

Should he state that he enjoyed the chocolate chai coffee, you would have to introduce him to a cafe mocha. You would make more fresh chocolate powder and make whipped cream. Due to this, it would have to wait until you knew his opinion—and you would have to ensure that he was interested in having more flavors ahead of time. Not that whipped cream would not be used if he decided that he was not.

If he was inclined to sample a more sweet drink, you were excited to serve him a caramel macchiato. It was a more basic flavor, true, however that simply made it more readily available on days when you were not forewarned what mood he would be in. Vanilla syrup—sugar free and non—as well as caramel sauce were in large supply in First Rogue. As was gingerbread coffee, you reminded yourself. With a hum, you scrawled that onto your list.

Ristretto would be closer to his usual drink. You flipped the sheet of paper over to start a page of more ‘basic’ drinks that you could give him when he did not want to stray too far from his norm. Espresso Romano if you could confirm that he enjoyed the taste of lemon.

“I wonder if he would ever want any food.” You tapped the end of the pen against your mouth while furrowing your brow in thought. Where you had suggested food pairings to other customers, you had never broached the subject with Armitage. Would he be put off by the idea?

As you considered this, you found yourself curious as to what topics in general would be open for conversation. This man may not spare you a second glance in a romantic view, however he was clearly comfortable for casual conversations. Though perhaps that was generous? You had spoken more than he had on each of the occasions. That might be his personality, you reminded yourself, not to be easily dissuaded. You would begin with something more light, albeit branching away from First Rogue related content.

“Not work either.” This you stated under your breath. There were no customers that would eavesdrop. The only patron inside First Rogue was one of the regulars, an older woman who dropped by to have time for herself before she was set to pick up her grandchildren from school. You rested your elbows on the table, cupped your chin, and glanced at the woman. With this you were reminded just how simple it was to socialize. Armitage Hux made your heart race in your chest, however you spoke to him regarding his coffee order. Just the same as you spoke to this woman, whom you had also conversed with about her family and hobbies. She enjoyed sewing, reading books, and had three drama series that she loyally kept up with.

Armitage kept to a tight schedule, which meant that he might, too, watch a regular program. The news perhaps. It was a good starting point. You would watch the nightly news and select a topic to speak with him about when he arrived at the coffee shop the next day.

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

Unsurprisingly, Brendol had indeed soured Armitage’s mood by the day’s end. He lowered himself onto the couch in his home. The television droned on, some news report that he was hardly paying attention to. Instead he worked to think of something else—someone else—to assist in improving his demeanor. Within his mind he began to map out the contours of your face. Each angle carefully studied until his crude rendition was as close an approximation as he could make it. The next morning he would take an extra moment to improve the accuracy of future recollections.

Armitage conjured up the flavor of the chocolate chai coffee, the slight spice that had rolled over his tongue. In the past he had thought little of you beyond your occupation. With the peppermint coffee and the discussion of hot chocolate, his view had shifted to a certain sweetness. Now there was spice, which caused him pause. Did that spice translate into your personality?

Throbbing in his head jerked Armitage back into reality. The newscast reported the weather for the week. The morning would see roughly an inch worth of snow. It was the weekend that would be more quarrelsome with temperatures rising a fraction only to plummet, the likelihood of ice high. His original plan for the weekend had been to go into the office for additional progress on a new project that he would be undertaking the following month. This had been one of the issues that Brendol had harassed him over—not that he worked more than necessary, however that he should have done more and been more innovative in his career. Nothing ever pleased the man, not truly.

With the weather report, it was clear that his plans would have to be altered. Armitage started to compose a list of what materials he would be required to bring to his home over the next two days. Only when Millicent, a small tabby cat two years of age, slunk out from the covered bed in the corner for attention was he properly drawn out of thoughts from work, not visiting them again until the next day.

In the morning, Armitage was more preoccupied with his visit to First Rogue after readying for work to think of business or Brendol. He patted Millicent on the head on his way out the front door, locked up, and began to rehearse what he might say if you should ask him why he stared at your eyes; he would note their color this time. Tiny flakes of snow descended from the sky at random intervals. They wet his eyelashes so that he was forced to swipe a hand along his face when he entered the coffee shop. As he lowered his arm back to his side, he scanned the counter. One of the other baristas was taking an order from the man in front of him.

He wondered if you had scheduled to take a day off; he was relatively certain he knew your schedule—it struck Armitage that this might be strange, however he ignored the notion.

Entering First Rogue behind a familiar redhead, you felt your smile growing despite being four minutes late for your shift. You had sent Remi a fast text, and she was covering for you. The owner would not mind much; there were more times that you remained in the store extra than you arriving late or leaving early. This was, for you, a nice thing about the town. Its community was one you had grown fond of over the years; a portion was transient due to the local and city schools, while the more steady populace were supportive of one another in good times and bad. Due to this, you were already in a good mood. Seeing that he had stalled, observing his head turn in search of someone—in search of you—was pleasantly surprising.

“Good morning,” you chimed, earning the privilege of watching Armitage jump in startlement. He twisted around, drawing backwards a step and tightening the muscles in his face in an obvious attempt to conceal his emotions. Not for the first time, you wondered about his personal life and what had led him to be like this. Then paused, realizing that he was doing something he had not in all the time you had been in contact with him. Armitage Hux was staring into your eyes. Heat seeped into your cheeks, spread throughout your body. “Are you in the mood for a new flavor?”

“Hmm.” Though he hummed out that sound, feigning consideration, there was a sense that he had already made up his mind on the matter before he had walked into the shop. “For today and tomorrow, yes.”

You nodded then walked around him. Armitage turned to follow you with his gaze, walking forward as the other male patron of the establishment grabbed his drink and headed for the door. Remi shifted back to the register to assist Armitage in paying for the coffee--she knew to ring him up for his regular beverage, as you covered any difference with the tip he so often left otherwise would pay it on your own—which allowed you to walk towards the ingredients that you had readied. Two days in a row, you mused, which meant that you wanted to leave a good impression so as to not dissuade him from continuing this pattern.

“Did you see—” you began in unison with him saying: “The weather this...weekend...” You had stopped abruptly, whereas he trailed off. You looked over your shoulder at him, nodding encouragingly so that he would resume where he had left off. “Does it prevent many of your regulars from coming into the shop?”

“Err, I suppose it depends on how bad it gets.” Your hands were in constant motion, readying and preparing all that you needed to put his drink together. “I live close enough that I can come into work even if it’s for a shorter shift. We’ll close only if it’s too hazardous, which I don’t think will be the case here. How about you? Do you have work?”

Vertigo was not an immediate threat, although you did notice that you felt slightly lightheaded over the fact that Armitage had been the one to strike up a conversation, even if it did have to do with First Rogue. It was the sort of topic you had been intending to bring up. The pair of you were on the same page with that, and you each, as far as you could tell, enjoyed conversing with the other. Remi, meanwhile, had busied herself with tending to two other customers that had entered the shop; one was another regular and the other a new face.

Armitage slipped one foot in front of the other, keeping pace with you as you darted about behind the counter while carrying out the final steps of making the beverage, whatever flavor it happened to be. Coming from others, he might not have welcomed the question or else been indifferent to it. From you, on the other hand, he found that he was pleased you had asked. “In a way. I am not on the schedule, however I do plan to bring a few items home with me. I may spend the morning here, if that is alright.” He gestured towards the corner by the window and hoped that you noticed he was indicating two tables rather than one. They were smaller, square, and allowed only for two chairs each.

You looked in that direction whilst walking towards him with the coffee, which you handed to him. “That shouldn’t be a problem at all.” It suddenly struck Armitage that he had not checked his watch the entire time since your arrival. He did not know if he was running late or not, and was not stressed about the matter—perhaps that would sink in later, after he moved into his car. For the meanwhile, he inquired as to what flavor you had given him today. “You should try it and guess.”

A snort escaped him, and Armitage felt his mouth shifting into a smile that he more often than not concealed from the world. Genuine. Amused. He lifted the coffee to his mouth to hide the expression, felt his face heating a little and knew that it was covered in a slight rosy flush. Your cheekiness had been unexpected. There was such a contrast with your attitude compared with Brendol’s. Where Brendol made Armitage want to hide away, you were a breath of fresh air. Brendol was vexing. You were…

Armitage took a sip as you had suggested, his eyes locking onto yours. You did not glance away; in that moment, he realized that you had for so long. You had been more shy with him. Not timid, however less bold. He had offered no reason for you to be kind to him, yet there it was. Your eyes wide and your lips parted. Your breathing was not as level as it had been before he had smiled. Your chest rose and fell, your breasts--Good lord, he nearly choked on the hot coffee.

“Gingerbread,” he said, his voice low, his mouth still warm from the drink.

You were trying to recover from the shock of seeing his smile, which had been far better than you had imagined it would be. His reaction to the coffee flavor was not negative. Nothing was ruining the moment. Except when he stated that he had to get going to work and would see you in the morning. There was little to say to that. Not that you trusted yourself to speak. Surely your voice would crack. You gave a wave of your hand, staring after him and not caring that Remi and even some of the customers were watching you.

For Armitage Hux, the incident remained with him for the entire day. He found himself distracted on more than one occasion. The taste of gingerbread coffee--not his favorite of the ones he had been given—and the sight of you staring. The image of your breasts. The end of the work day did not arrive fast enough. He greeted Millicent, set down the items he had brought home in preparation for the weekend, and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, he closed the door to prevent his cat from interrupting.

His hand went to the front of his pants. Armitage closed his eyes, conjuring your face in his mind’s eye. Now he knew it better. The various angles, the different expressions. The way your pupils had dilated as you watched him smile. He thought again of your breasts. His cock throbbed, hardening and making his breath catch. He worked open his pants, slipping one hand inside and withdrawing his erection. He stroked himself, twisting his wrist as he moved at a languid pace.

What did you taste like? The question was posed as he jerked his cock, as he thought again of your smile, of your desire to please him and offer him new flavors of coffee. He wanted to spread your legs open and fuck you. To watch you squirm as he worked his fingers into you, opening your wet cunt so that he could fuck you.

Armitage’s breathing grew even louder. He growled, the sound rumbling through him. He moved his hand even faster, flicking his wrist, thrusting his hips forward and fucking his hand though he wished it was you. The image in his mind changed in scenery. You on his bed instead of the coffee shop—though, he had to admit, bending you over the counter and risking being seen through that large window was suddenly an exhilarating prospect. Yet on his bed, screaming his name as he made you cum.

“Fuck!” His entire body trembled. Armitage let his head fall back, felt it hitting the door, which gave a light thunk at the impact. He teased his slit, toyed with the sensitive flesh at the head of his cock with the pads of his fingers, and then resumed fucking his hand in earnest. The sounds of him masturbating echoed in the bathroom. Yet what he heard was the moans—your moans—in his head. What did they sound like?

You should try it.

Your voice, a teasing lilt. “Fuck,” he growled again, shuddering as he came, his cum spilling over his hand. He opened his eyes and stared at his reflection in the mirror. At the flush in his cheeks, which was darker than what he had worn as a result of your reaction to his smile.

He wanted to see that reaction once more. Wanted to take you out of First Rogue so that his fantasies could include other locations more naturally. Or perhaps to alter them from fantasy into reality. It was not merely sex that he craved from you either. In truth, you were the highlight of his day the majority of the time. He looked forward to seeing you each morning. Armitage thought of sharing coffee with you after the pair of you fucked. Hot chocolate was another option—that would entice you, would bring a smile to your lips, wouldn’t it?

Running a hand along the length of his face, Armitage decided that, come the weekend, he would pursue this, would pursue you in earnest. The poor weather was proving to be a sort of blessing in disguise.

#rogue order #armitage hux x reader #hux x reader #armitage hux imagine #hux imagine #hux fanfic #modern day hux #star wars modern day #gift fic

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chibimyumi · 4 years

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Hi there! So I've been meaning to ask this for a while after realizing it, but don't O!Ciel's, Doll's, Alois', and Lizzy's color schemes kind of reveal their past and future a tad bit? I've know Alois outfits are bold yet kind of gothic colors like violet emerald green black and brown which all in the world of art are color forms of different emotions depending how you work with them, green being envy or disgusted but he hides it with royal purple, black means wounded which are his shorts & tie

Dear Blackbutlerfandomnerddomain,

While colour symbolism is popular, I personally don’t think the colours in Kuroshitsuji’s costumes are supposed to deliver any meaning other than aesthetic value. Especially with O!Ciel and Lizzie we can say with some certainty colour symbolism is not within the intention, because they change clothes in every single illustration, and every time they wear different colours. Yes, these characters do have tones they tend to wear, but that’s how real people dress themselves too. Somebody who likes calm colours is slightly less likely to have a rainbow assortment of neon, for example.

This is simply the way I understand Yana’s style, there’s not really ONE correct answer here. So feel free to read as much into the colours as it pleases you. But as I personally see it, Yana’s style of using symbolism tends to rely on objects rather than colours. Allow me to briefly analyse two artworks to illustrate what I mean and how I came to my understanding.

Case One

One of the most famous artworks is the front illustration of the second illustration book. Many colours including green, red, blue, white, gold are all present here.

One could make arguments for the black and white of the Earl’s attire being symbolism, but this meaning is quickly overshadowed by the ravens emerging from the Escher patterns. Red is the most eye-catching colour in this illustration. One might say O!Ciel’s gloves being red means to symbolise his hands being blood-dyed, or his shoes red because he walks a bloody path... but then how do we explain the inside of the drape or Sebastian’s waistcoat?

The setting is a place that appears to be a type of greenhouse; a place built to maximise the function of sunlight. And yet, while the illustration seems to suggest it is daytime, the sun is failing miserably in face of the heavy clouds. Rather than painting the sky ominous red or just dark, Yana uses the unsuccessful sun to set a mood or convey symbolism. “Is the white light against the dark clouds not also a type of colour symbolism?” Yes, it may be, but then one should also ask the question: "why choose a greenhouse then, and not any other setting that could have conveyed the light/dark contrast?”

Case two

Another famous piece is this 2014 artwork. The overall tone is gloomy and is mostly lacking in colours. Though held back in terms of colour, there is a lot to be unpacked here!

The first thing that catches the eye is indeed the overwhelmingly sombre palate of this illustration. Black can symbolise many things, but when 70% of the illustration is black, one could say this illustration is either incompetent in conveying symbolism in it being over-saturated with “meaning”, or that the black is merely here to set a tone.

Instead, we can see white lilies in O!Ciel’s hair as well as one stem carried by Sebas. Rather than colour symbolism, Japan has a long history of flower-symbolism (花言葉・Hanakotoba), and Yana herself is big fan of this style. When Western culture was introduced to Japan, black and white lilies were accepted as symbols for death.

The composition of the artwork leads the eye from the bottom left corner to the top right. This guides our vision to the empty plate at the top of the table, where a bright white saucer lies with a conspicuous bit of red sauce.

Red might symbolise blood here, and it is befitting. But more importantly we also need to consider this choice from an artist’s point of view. How many different colours of edible sauces are there? There’s chocolate sauce and other dark sauces, but that would just blend in with the rest of the illustration. Yellowy sauce is certainly a thing, but that’d be overpowered by the golden details. So red is the only bright colour that would make the empty saucer pop out. The Empty saucer has a fork placed diagonally on top, meaning that somebody had consumed food and is now finished. Rather than the colour of red, I think it is the now-empty saucer that is supposed to symbolise Sebastian’s goal of consuming his master.

Next to the saucer is the skeleton of a bird; presumably a crow judging from the size. Skeletons universally symbolise death, but it has nothing to do with the colour.

In Japanese native culture the topic of ‘death’ is big taboo. In older Japanese buildings for example, the 4th floor would often be skipped because ‘4′ (四・shi) is a homophone of death (死・shi).

In the past when Buddhism was introduced, the Japanese embraced this religion with open arms because finally there was something else that would deal with ‘death’ while native culture could stay in its comfort-zone. It was a bit like: “we do we... Hey, Buddhism, can you take care of that thing we’re too afraid of for us? Thanks dude!” Since the introduction of Buddhism, images of skeletons came to not just mean ‘death’, but more specifically ‘impermanence’ (無常・mujou). Impermanence is one of the core teachings in Buddhism, reminding humanity that everything will eventually come to an end, be it good or bad. With Buddhism introduced, skeletons were no longer only associated with pure fear, but instead gained an additional meaning of acceptance of change and the cycle of nature.

The origins of the meaning of skeletons have blurred through the years, many Japanese people probably don’t even know why things evoke certain meanings in them (just like in other cultures, I presume). But fact remains that though still macabre, in Japan a skeleton is now assumed to symbolise the naturalness of death.

That the skeleton of the bird is preserved in a glass dome is interesting. Glass domes’ function is primarily display. Out of all things, Yana chose to specifically display the symbol of impermanence and death, meaning that within this artwork that skeleton is the key object of display. In human subjectivity death is finite and fearsome. To a demon like Sebastian however (from whose perspective we view this artwork as he’s the only one awake here), he probably views death more akin to the way Buddhism views it; as just impermanence. I am NOT saying that Sebastian subscribes to a Buddhist philosophy, but I am saying that he must view death a lot more neutrally than most humans do.

Most Japanese people are not raised consciously religiously, but everyone is always influenced to some extent, Yana included. And therefore it is no surprise that Yana might have been inspired by the neutral view towards death (for at least Sebastian), even if she might not know where this inspiration comes from.

The casualness of ‘death’ in this illustration is further indicated by the coffin that is set up as a dining table. There is no respect, no ceremony, objects are scattered on top and around. The message is rather straightforward so I shall waste no more time explaining the obvious here. But I do wish to point out how this gives further evidence for how the meanings of this illustration should be considered from Sebas’ perspective, just like the crow’s skeleton as explained above. What is finite to us, is just a fact of nature to Sebas.

Conclusion

Yana has created many illustrations. Not all include symbolism, but the more elaborate pieces are usually packed with them. Of course I have only analysed two illustrations, and I would not blame anyone for calling this post insufficient evidence. But... I could just go on and on forever, and I need to draw a line somewhere, right? What I can say with confidence however, is that if you were to grab any artwork by Yana and see it for yourself, rather than colour, item symbolism is stronger.

Also, the way Yana uses colour is just not very symbolism heavy; she has a much stronger tendency to use colours purely aesthetically. Take any of the inside covers of this series, and one would quickly find out there really is no pattern to be found here.

In a nutshell, Yana’s colouring style is mostly aesthetic and used to set a tone for her illustrations. What carries the symbolism instead is in the objects.

Again, this is merely how I personally read Yana’s illustrations and an elaboration of how I came to this reading. There is not one correct answer to read illustrations, because art is subjective in its core. So if the colours do mean more to you than they do to me, please do enjoy doing so by all means ^^

#Kuroshitsuji #Black Butler #Art #Illustration #art analysis #analysis #I did study art for a bit and it shaped the way I look at art #but the core lesson of art analysis class is that art is always subjective #ALWAYS #symbolism

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genius11rare · 3 years

Text

AH ChitChat Notes 3 22 21

Chitchat 32221 with Jeremy , michael and matt ft disembodied voices of lindsay and maybe kaden , gus in chat and joins

Jeremy: Kaden spoke up because of donuts earlier… Michael: Jacks time is over now… but he will be on stream later. Jeremy: oh yeah schedule. Slight last minute changes doing Fall Guys first cuz S4 came out… me michael lindsay and matt did a letsplay in it earlier today … gus will be doing fall guys this stream (eyyy)... oh yeah and i wanna impersonate what jack does. Matt: do it. Jeremy: and if you're watching on the site we can see your chat like FatHippoHippo wrote BET in all capitals … yeah i just wanted to get into the spirit and be like “what would jack do, what would he think is funny” and that was it. Lindsay: alsoone of those WWJD bracelets from the 90s What Would Jack Do… (matt: ive repurposed them) Jeremy: so how are you doing? Lindsay: good weekend i guess , just telling Matt we watched Big Hero 6 yesterday (Jeremy: aw hell yell) still an awesome movie , kids loved it. Jeremy: where they scared of - idk if he has a name the kabuki villain… *looking it up* apparently its Yokai… guess they never really say it cuz that's generic. Lindsay: that's VERY generic. Michael: IVE GOT TO TAKE THIS CALL *facecam becomes void* Jeremy: ok spoiler alert for Big Hero 6 but just looking at the wiki… it makes an audacious claim. It says “professor robert calahan OR ALSO BETTER KNOW as his villain name Yokai”... is it? Lindsay: well its based on a comic right so i guess canonically he has a name…. But to answer your question No they werent scared … anyway something we noticed upon rewatching is that 2 characters before a MAJOR event happens to the fistbump… but DON'T do the explosion… like oooohhh foreshadowing. Michael: not really foreshadowing if they keep doing it throughout the movie , if anything its foreshadowing that like… hell… whats the robots name - baymax learning it… not really foreshadowing the building explodes (gen notes MAJOR EVENT) … what blew my mind was that movie has a post credits scene. Jeremy: oh yeah was it like with the dudes father. Michael: Fred yeah! Remember remarking upon them entering the house theres a portrait of the dad and i just went “his dads just Stan Lee… just a portrait of him” Post credits scene and guys talking to painting and - wasn't paying attention but he like hits his head on it and the wall opens up to show a superhero room with paraphernalia everywhere and Stan Lee walks in like “son we got a lot to talk about” Jeremy: Chat asking about if i watched the wrestling PayPerView… remember how i updated you last that the guy died in the ring after being set on fire (Michael: lemme guess hes a zombie now) - yep exactly last night a hand reached up and grabbed someones leg , he came out of the smoke with a melted messed up mask so yeah…. Hes a furry (i think?) zombie clown Michael: hey wait a minute let me read the chat , someone named Gus said “whoa no idea there was a post credit scene” “what is a fastfood restaurant combo wish would open” Lindsay: Miss my KenTaco Hutt… Michael: idk im usually just in the mood for SOMETHING , not looking to combine , only time is when i want a certain food and they don't have the same sides i want other places have . like Sonic is amazing for sides , apps and drinks… don't care for entrees , but if i could get Sonic sides at McDonalds or Taco bell or something.. Jeremy: guess in the same vein id combine Dairy Queen with a lot of places (Matt: i was about to say) to get a BLIZZARD with whatever. Matt: that's how it usually goes anyway , you get the food , you drive by the Dairy Queen and get a desert - you don't get the food at Dairy Queen cuz why - just why Lindsay: i mean theres icecream but there isnt really fastfood places for other deserts… like theres not really a Cake or Cupcake place (Matt: not yet *tilts head at camera like “you know what i want”* ) there IS the cupcake ATM Matt: alright checking the google… Michael: Matts checking the driving distance. Jeremy: another questions whil matts looking up cakes (Matt: oh i already have it) nevermind then. Conware asks “what is your fave controller for console and whats fave controller you own” Jeremy: Idk really… i know for a while everyones was the Elite 2 Michael: yeah just most comfortable. Matt: well that's like a specialty type… if its a stock one then the switch pro controller is pretty good. Michael: i mean i also have this 8Bit do SNES bluetooth controller thing , love it Lindsay: i love the nintendo switch controller grip… makes it feel like it curves comfy around your palms Jeremy: the XBOX sea of thieves one is great (Matt: i was about to say…) got a glow in the dark skull in the middle , RT is like a gold tooth , is partly see through Matt: and it comes with some exclusive stuff for Sea of Thieves Lindsay: yeah like Motion Sickness. Matt: i got one that's just a donut. Lindsay: gave me an idea… you know how theres Pez Dispensers (matt: heard of them) yeah and how you don't really even use them right you just eat the candy and play with the thing ( *matt nods approvingly* yeah about right) what if we invent a controller where every once in a while it opens up to give a snack. (Matt: yeah like everytime you get an achievement, Jeremy: yeah i did good! Just go up to the controller and eat it) “You Are Good Boy” Matt: be funnier if it just throws at you “everyone have a fave seasons and followup do you like seasons where you grew up or where you are now?” Jeremy: i mean springs probably my fave its easy to be outside , not boiling hot nor snow everywhere… great time to camp and fish , falls cool with changing colors… texas is like “do you want REALLY hot or hot?” Michael: i do really like Fall on the East Coast but its like - yeah i miss it and its nice to be there when it happens where its light jacket weather. I used to wear sweatshirts all the time - i don't bother with long sleeves in texas cuz i know im taking it off within 30 min… never knew about the Water Cup thing until i lived in texas where restaurants just HAVE water cups… blew my mind its free - because people will drop dead . noticed they just have this seperate stack of clear cups which is i guess like “i BETTER not see any soda in that cup THAT'S A WATER CUP!”. I don't like it when its 105 degrees but i do like being able to just wear Tshirts most of the year and not dealing with snow Lindsay: i like Fall the most cuz like its blend of i guess i embrace the basic bitch stereo types of fall , want my pumpkin spice latee but ALSO i know halloween is coming and ive said before how THAT'S like my religious holiday so like… i come alive. Matt: probably fall , maybe winter. I don't go out much but fall is like the right amount of cool but not TOO cool. Jeremy: over the weekend me and kat went to a town called rockfort (i think?) which is like right on the ocean , the weather was a little cold for it , like 50 maybe and the sea breeze made it chillier… im not really a beach person just more water. You say beach and you think like Boogie Boarding Bros (Michael: whoooaah boogie. Lindsay: beach volleyball) yeah .. id reather be on a rocky shore than a sandy beach. Michael: youd rather be like a mermaid sitting on the rocks *jeremy laughs loud* is that what you're saying Jeremy: yeah Matt: attracting sailors to their DOOM Lindsay: i gotta send you a link but theres this one TikTokker i guess that i watch that talks about that an eastern european beach she went to and was like “i cant wait to go on my beach outting yeah!” and she gets there its rocky , really windy , noones there and goes “ooh its really cold” Matt: depends the kind of beach to me… for me East Coast beaches SUCK *jeremy nods yep* its water you cant see anything in its terrible Lindsay: that's also texas beaches , all brown. Matt: its just one of those things where you get in the water and your like “ok… at anymoment i could be attacked by everything around me” Michael: well that can happen on land too matt (Gen Notes WELCOHME TA JOISEY!!!) (paraphrasing jeremy here) Jeremy: theres this guy who flys a drone out over beaches into the ocean , and he released the footage… apparently due to there being a lot less people now theres just Great White Sharks that go relatively close to beaches now… there are times where hes filming people playing and like 10 ft away is a fucking shark ya know just swimming. And cuz they're really far away hed be like “id see it , film it , then go to a lifeguard and show it like “oh btw…” “ Michael: so you know 2 hours ago someone may have been eaten. MattL he should put a speaker on the drone to like announce the sharks like HEY! DEATH OUT THERE!. Lindsay: “whats that Dronie? Theres a shark in the water?!?” Jeremy: and it was funny seeing that behavior where everyonce and a while a shark would be swimming then someone would do something near it not seeing the shark and the shark just goes “fuck dat” and swims away MattL god dude…. So close to death *gus joins* Lindsay: oh you're the guy who was like Texas beaches have Tar Gus: oh yeah i grew up in texas and i thought all beaches were like that just “oh you don't sit on the tar”

#text #gen notes #ah #achievement hunter #chit chat #chitchat #march 2021 #michael jones #jeremy dooley #stream #live stream #notes #idk what else to tag #qna #for later

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vicarfelix · 3 years

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hi there! just wanted to say that im a huge fan of your work on here and ao3. i know youve mentioned your captain and i was wondering if you could tell me a little about her? i love hearing ab other people's captains!

Hey! Thank you SO much! I always appreciate the support! :) And yeah, I can definitely tell you about Jade!

So admittedly, Jade was one of many captains that I came up with. I've come up with female and male captains over the last year that I've been playing TOW...and sometime's I even just start the game over with the same captain (I've done a LOT of playthroughs). I've had three other female captains: Lucille, Alli, Jen. I've had two male captains: Marshall and Finn. (More below the cut)

Jade came after Marshall but before Lucille, and she seems to be the one that has stuck with me the most. For the most part, I only write my fics as insert female reader fics, but there have been two or three where I used Jade. When I “designed” Jade (or however you want to say it) I sort of used some of the characteristics from my other female captains and blended them together for Jade.

So now for the part you actually asked for :D

Jade Ashford is in her early 30s (I’ve never given her a definite age) and has bright blonde hair that she keeps just past her shoulders. She has green eyes and PLENTY of freckles across her face. She’s not super tall, but not short by any means. If she can find nail polish, she likes to keep her nails painted because it keeps her nail biting habit at bay since it’s an anxious habit of hers.

Before she was put into hibernation, she was a bartender (I took that detail from Alli) and was thinking about going back to school to get her law degree. One of the reasons she agreed to become a Hope colonist was because she didn’t have any family or real friends outside of her regular customers at the bar.

Her bartending skills stuck with her after the 70 years in stasis and she likes to show them off if presented the opportunity. She almost ALWAYS buys (or snatches, depending on her mood) a bottle of whiskey if she has the chance. She’ll never admit it, but most of the alcohol in Halcyon is better than it was on Earth.

She’s very much an extrovert, and doesn’t mind talking to people. She has a motto for herself (and her crew) that basically says to always try to talk things out before pulling the trigger. Remember I mentioned that she wanted to be a lawyer? Yeah, this woman can argue ALL DAY LONG. She’s very levelheaded, and rarely ever loses her cool. But when she does lose her temper, it is NOT a pretty sight. She’s only lost her shit in front of the crew once, and it was when SAM tried to clean her favorite handgun and completely ruined it. That’s when the crew learned to never, under any circumstances, piss off Captain Jade.

With all this being said, you would think that Jade and Max would NEVER get along. But it’s actually just the opposite. Max adores Jade, and she adores him. It’s been that way since day one. It didn’t take long for them to establish a relationship and he can confidently say she’s the best thing that ever happened to him.

He’s not at all annoyed by her like one would probably expect, and he’s actually finds her positive and easy personality refreshing. Max has a bit of a short temper, and even after his big life changing revelation, he still can easily flip his lid.

He’s learned a LOT about patience from Jade, and why getting angry doesn’t usually solve anything. He admires her bravery and the way she handles things. Watching her be a captain is something he enjoys a lot. On the flip side, he makes sure that he’s always a resource for her, because he’s learned that she keeps her feelings to herself about things. Halcyon is not a pretty place, and he’s always worried about how she deals with it. It’s different when you’re raised in Halcyon and when you’re thrown into it.

Jade likes to take Ellie and Nyoka out drinking on the night before their day off. Ellie and Nyoka are the only ones who can keep up with Jade on the every so often occasions that she does drink. But Nyoka can outdrink any of the crew.

Felix and Parvati are always eager to learn from Jade. Felix is the youngest in the crew, and he often makes the most mistakes. Jade is always understanding with him, using his fuck ups as a way for him to learn and grow. That goes for all of the crew. She’s a huge “learn by experience” kind of gal

Just a few more things about Jade: her favorite color is purple, which is why she has a liiiiiittle bit of a soft spot for any of Rizzo’s products. Every once in a while, she’ll luck out and find an Earth movie that she’ll watch with the crew (and answering every single one of Felix’s questions). The Groundbreaker is her favorite place in Halcyon, despite the fact that it smells like a locker room. She likes to cook breakfast for the crew, and often in nothing but her underwear and one of Max’s shirts. She’s been caught more than once with her hair in a bun on her head and sliding around in her socks.

To wrap things up, Jade is about as spicy and sweet as they come. And even though it wasn’t really her choice, she loves her crew and loves being a captain.

#Jade Ashford #Captain Jade #the outer worlds #Vicar Max #parvati holcomb #ellie fenhill #Nyoka Ramnarim Wentworth III #felix millstone #sam #the outer worlds fanfiction

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red-dia · 4 years

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hi! i've always loved your hnk panel redraws and recently i've been so inspired by them that i've tried my hand at coloring some panels too! if you don't mind me asking, do you have any tips?

oh i certainly do! some of these are a bit generic/art related but they’re definitely useful in this case too. I’m adding a read more because unfortunately it got a bit long but here you go:

1) Get to know your tools!

Since you weren’t very specific, I’ll assume you aren’t too familiar with art softwares (and if you are, you can just skip that part it’s not That deep). I’ll start with the basics; I know this is obvious, but please bear with me, because understanding how your program works WILL make you a lot more efficient.Here are quick descriptions of some features I think are very useful - I use Clip Studio Paint, but I believe most programs have equivalents. If you don’t know them, please experiment with them, they’ll come in handy!

- Locking transparency :

Locking the transparency of a layer means only the parts where something is already drawn can be modified. Basically, you can recolour something that already exists in a rather precise way.

This is very useful for gradients, which I’ll talk about a bit later.

- Clipping layers :

This gives the same result as locking a layer then drawing over it, but the difference is that you use more than 1 layer ; one as the bottom layer, defining the part of the canvas you can draw on, and the others, clipped on top, where you’ll draw. This can be more practical than locking transparency, because if you have a lot of details to add, doing everything on a single layer may make things more difficult.

I use this a lot when I shade, but just like gradients, I’ll bring that up later.

- Layer settings :

These options change the way the colours on a layer blend with the colours below. As an example, addglow is pretty good for colouring very bright light sources or for adding highlights on gems :

Basically, using those isn’t a necessity, but they’re still pretty useful so I’d recommend experimenting with them whenever you feel like it!

- Magic Wand :

Not the most complicated to use, but damn it’s really useful. It allows you to make selections based on the colours you’re targeting, so basically, if you need to colour an entire area a certain colour, you can just select it from the original panel, go on the layer where you’re colouring, and colour nothing but the part you selected. That’s about it!

There are lots of others, but these are the main ones you need to know about when you’re getting started.

2) Colouring stuff

This is where it gets interesting! I guess! I’m not too good at just coming up with these kind of tips, so I’ll illustrate with some colouring, hopefully it’ll help you out?

I usually colour in 5 parts : 1) Preparing the panel(s), 2) Applying flat colours, 3) Adding gradients, 4) Adding shading, 5) Finalising with details.

I always prepare pages in the same way: first, I use the magic wand to select everything i do NOT want to colour ; the frames around the panels, the speech bubbles, the sfx, etc. Once they’re selected, I copy them, and paste them on a new layer. Then, I select the original layer, and turn it transparent so I can colour below while still keeping the lines. To do that, I go in Menu > Edit > Change brightness to opacity (in CSP at least, it depends on your program tho but most of them support this, I think!).

I end up with something like this :

Two layers, one on the bottom with the semi-transparent page, and another on top, with everything that I don’t plan on touching. On the page on the right, you can get an idea of what it looks like when you add a layer below these 2 and draw on it.

Now that I’m done with the panel, I can start adding some (flat) colours.

I think it’s a good idea to start with the background, because it’ll help you figure out the feeling you want to give the panel.

The airbrush is a pretty good tool for gradients btw, just make sure you use a brush that is big enough so the transition in colours looks natural.

Next, I add a new layer, and colour the shape of the characters (and here the vessel as well), so it stands out from the background. It’ll make colouring less complicated, since the lines will be clearer.

As you can see, I was kind of confident, so I directly added a gradient. The bottom of the panel is a bit “darker”, because I wanted the main light source to be the reflect on Phos’….. head thing?

Here’s something kind of important about your choice of colours : if you’re colouring an area that is already shaded in the original panel, I would recommend taking a colour that is more saturated than it should, or else the colour may end up looking dull because the original shading will make it darker.

Next, I do more flat colours. Nothing too fancy, and pretty much everything is on different layers. The clothes are left uncoloured because the background colour already fits, so it’s okay honestly

Then, I added some gradients using clip layers :

As a reference, I used some overlay layers for Dia’s hair, and some addglow layers for Phos’ alloy.

I mean it when I say gradients are important! They make your colouring feel more complete even when they’re barely visible. quickly coloured bortz for reference, assuming tumblr won’t compress the colours too much:

the bastard on the left has nothing but flat colours. They’re nice, but when you’ll have shaded everything, chances are it’ll look kind of …. i dunno, like something is missing? So yeah, gradients : good, though i would recommend you keep them in the same tone as the base colour. I’ll talk about this a bit more later if i don’t forget.

Ok! next:

I felt like golden colours weren’t quite fitting the mood, so i added a layer with blue on top of it to make it colder. It’s at 40% transparency, so you can still see the colours behind well enough. Some parts were slightly erased because i liked the idea of these parts being lighter (you can see it a little bit around phos’ neck, or above dia’s knees : these parts are yellower than the rest of the pic)

I added some shading! Nothing too fancy. also not to sound like some gradient-freak but you can add some of those in shading as well, it’s usually a nice touch.

After than, I added some lightings, which are on a layer clipped on the original manga panel (so basically only the black parts of the original image changed colours, and the colouring work I did on the layers below wasn’t really affected, if that makes sense?)

The red lighting is the obvious one (it’s an airbrush, and i used an eraser to clear the part near Phos’ head so it looks like it’s coming from above/behind them and not from themself).

There is another lighting at the bottom, which is grey/blueish, to contrast with the warm colours on the top of the pic. it also kind of looks like smoke but yeah

Now the panel is mostly done, and I’m starting the “details” part.

Something I find really bothersome in the manga is the *original* shading : while it’s always really good, colouring under it will leave some grid of pixels on top of your colours, so to counter that i just colour on top of the grid by colour picking and painting on a layer above the manga layer.

It’s a bit tedious but it has a texture that makes it look like a painting. The downside is that the colours can be altered since you’re colourpicking from something with an irregular pattern, but it can end up making your panel look less boring, honestly, it just depends on what you’re aiming for!

I end up with something like that :

And then it’s just. Whatever man. I added a black border and some highlights, sparkles, etc, it’s the kind of things you do when you’re basically done.

For the technical aspect, I’m not sure I have a lot more to add. If you want some advices for picking colours, tho…

3) General colour stuff :

These are just recommendations! Licherally these are mental notes i came up with ever since i’ve started colouring, so they’re kind of personal and if you don’t follow them you’ll be fine, i suppose. But so far they’ve been useful to me so consider them whenever you’ll be colouring something:

- Do not use pure white! Unless it’s for something CLEARLY meant to stand out, such as the frame of your pages, a speech bubble, sparkles, or a light source/something very shiny. If you’re just colouring something that is not meant to draw attention, use some other shade of white, but not the #ffffff one if you see what i mean?

- Same about pure black, to be honest.

The shades circled in red tend to look “emptier” than the ones circled in green (here the hue of the colour is yellow but it works with most colours). It doesn’t mean you can’t use it, just, use it sparingly or it may make things look dull I think? I would recommend trying a few shades before taking a decision.

- Sometimes adding highlights where the shading starts can make the transition look smoother:

- Even if a panel is already shaded in the original page, I would recommend shading it again, because the manga shading is a black shading and shading a coloured drawing with black usually doesn’t look that good. (hence why i said something about using saturated colours in shading earlier).

- Even if a panel isn’t shaded in the original page, consider shading it anyways, even if it’s just a very light shading. It’s worth it :o)

I’m running out of things to say oh well

#i didnt mean to write so much. it just happened i hope it's not a pain to read #also i hope it was clear but if it wasnt. (points @ my inbox)#whenever people tell me theyre getting into panel colouring i go... [powercry emoji]... its really fun and honestly i dont see that many #ppl into it so i get really enthusiastic ? thats it #personal #asks

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biiscione · 4 years

Photo

INTRODUCTIONS: Panagiotis && Konstantinos “ Κατα μανα κατα κυρη κατα γιο και θυγατερα De tal palo tal astilla. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. ”

***please check the end of post for tw/cw before continuing Background Panagiotis, preferably Panos, is of Greek and Armenian descent. His parents, formerly Greek nationals, immigrate to the United States after the birth of their first child, Jocasta, and it is in the Olympia, Washington that their son is born. His early childhood is happy though odd as he grows into two worlds: one of his revolutionary refugee parents exiled from their homeland and the other of American Suburbia. Death continuously alters his course, distorting a happy childhood into one of pain and suffering. Forced to live with his father’s brother and his wife in New Jersey, he endures abuses hurled at him until his late uncle’s death. Hardened and barely a teenager, he travels northward to the Big Apple. In Brooklyn he finds a way to make money, not in the most honest of ways, but hey, it keeps a roof over his head. While collecting rent for some big mucky - muck landlords in Bushwick, he ends up meeting who will be the mother of his son. She’s a few years old than he but just as calloused to the world. There time together is short - lived and a few months after Konnie is born, Panos is a single father. Strapped for cash and getting to know the truth of his parent’s past as anarchist revolutionaries, he endeavors to travel to his distant family in Macedonia where he then leaves his son and travels to Athens. Following in his father’s footsteps is quite easy and he takes to the streets just as he had to fight tyranny and fascism. This dreamlike sequence of valor ends with the death of a close friend, collateral damage to the volatile politics in Athens, and Panos’s own incarceration in his own failed attempt at a revenge killing. After serving his time, he returns to Macedonia to find his infant son already a smart, sensitive little boy. In a quarter-life crisis and realizing he needs to get his shit together for his son, he finds mercenary work in Central Asia and the Middle East.... and he hates it. There’s just something about assisting a private military organization stage de facto wars on resource - rich regions that didn’t sit right with him. So, after ensuring his payment, he throws a wrench or two into his employer’s plans and dips as fast as he can. He returns to Athens briefly, hoping to find permanent work that didn’t necessarily compromise his morality. A friend informs him of a mercenary job in Italy as a glorified bodyguard so he takes it upon himself to travel there with his son and what little money he has left. There’s nothing like an in-person interview, right? Panos lands the job working for a reclusive, wealthy man ( mostly on account of him being somewhat attractive and a single dad ) and the rest is history. Personality Abrasive and aggressive doesn’t necessarily mean bitter and unkind. He can be loud and a little too friendly at times ( a mask for his borderline - crippling anxiety and undiagnosed mood disorder ) but just chalk it up to his blended accent. Overtly sexual jokes and blunt questioning is meant to vet any weakness in the prospects of friendship, while also being a handy - dandy tool to be antisocial. He dislikes authority figures but as he ages, he tends to keep his cool as long as they leave him alone. While he airs less on the polite side of socializing, he does hold himself to a high moral code, nothing too chivalrous or anything, but he would defend another’s human rights with his very life. He’s loyal to a fault and has a hard time distancing himself from those he has grown fond of, even when their morals do not align with his own. Appearance He stands 6′ (give or take a half inch) with lax posture and lean frame. Tawny - colored hair, long - topped with a short undercut, is typically dressed in pomade and slicked back. He has blue eyes, icy or azure dependent on lighting. Olive - toned skin stays paled as he keeps away from the sun. Nose is shaped in the classic hellenic fashion, rather, it was . . . it’s been broken so many times that it sits crookedly upon his face, a bump breaking the Greek silhouette of his bridge. Full lips settle into a pout on his rarely expressionless face. His face is quite square, accentuated with a wide jaw. High cheekbones are accentuated not by makeup but tattoos, a broadsword along the hollow of one cheek. Misc. tattoos dress his arms and neck. A tattoo of a Roman/Sol Invictus diadem and ‘Κωνσταντῖνος’ along the crown’s band is on the left - side of his chest. Fingers are tattooed with anarchist and subtle anti - fascist symbols, blurred and faded with age. The juxtaposition of his rugged physical appearance with his bespoke wardrobe accentuates the starkness between his past life as a revolutionary and his quiet life as a mercenary/gun-for-hire. Notes ● is a devout member of the Greek Orthodox Church, despite his negative relationship with his priest uncle. ● avoids romantic and sexual relationships ● physical affection that he doesn’t initiate himself his wholly unwanted and is often violently rejected ● uh... heterosexual? sort of? ● loves to paint ppl, especially portraits ● thinks knives are pretty cool ● good at making things look like accidents Background Konstantinos, fondly Konnie, is American - born like his father and mother of Puerto-Rican and German descent but he doesn’t remember much of where he was born, his mother, and the apartment they lived in together. His earliest memory is of his father’s grandmother, the scars upon her flesh concluding stories she could not finish herself. In Macedonia, he has many mothers; though they remain faceless in his mind, they carry with them the same sweet scent of chrysanthemums. He does not recall his father being in his life till he’s just learning how to read and write, when he takes him away from the comfort of his many-mothers. As he grows, the gentle boy is troubled with this realization but cannot come to resent his father for his decision. He is whisked off to an unfamiliar place where unfamiliar people speak in an unfamiliar language. However, he is still young enough to teach, to mold, and he takes to this new language so easily that he almost forgets the tongue of his many-mothers. In his time in primary school, he earns the badge of polyglot. As he grows and becomes an acceptable age to be sent away, he is offered the chance to go to several prestigious boarding schools by his adoptive grandfather but, much to his relief, his father softly declines this generous offer. As he has been torn from comfort before, he holds the pain of the trauma of being taken from familiarity, causing him to be anxious and he is, although he excels in much that he does, unsure of himself, even at the tender age of eleven. He clings to his father and grandfather and the many people who work/reside upon his grandfather’s estate, for everyone there is gentle and keenly aware of his nervousness. Even now, at fifteen/sixteen, he still finds himself most comfortable in the quietest corners of his grandfather’s estate. Personality Those who are unfamiliar with him, especially extroverted adults, may find him, not shy, but haughty on account of his observant quietness and stature. He does not interact well with children his own age and, if he does find himself accepted into a friend group, he is the reserved listener. However, timidness is overshadowed by his morality, defending others valiantly and with a vulgarity that almost completely mirrors his father’s. Silence is complacency, his father taught him, and he is steadfast in his actions in the face of injustice and cruelty. Opposite his father, he is soft - spoken and educated in his speech. He is quite agreeable in mood and disposition though is considered “irregularly emotional” for a teenage boy by those stuck in the Old World. His emotional intelligence was nurtured by Panos, whose own emotional intelligence was stunted, and he is particularly empathetic and kind, with others and himself. Maybe that could get him in trouble later in life. Appearance At sixteen, he is 5′11 but looks taller with his stately posture and lean build. His face shape is much softer than his father’s with rounded jaw and fuller cheeks. He has his father’s full lips and his mother’s narrow, bowed - bridged and wide - tipped nose. Head is topped with light brown, tawny - tinted waves, hair long enough to curl around his ears, at the nape of his neck, and on his forehead. He has his father’s color-changing, light hues and they are further accentuated with his olive - toned skin that darkens easily in summer under an Italian sun. His attire is always shifting and evolving though always echoes the softness of his personality. Notes ● though raised in a Roman Catholic household, he is a practicing member of the Greek Orthodox church ● loves animals.... so much. often babysits his grandfather’s pet snakes (though he prefers the furry sorts) ● a casual art historian ● wants to be a mary wollstonecraft shelley historian when he gets older ● dad taught him how to shoot and he’s a very good marksman ● because his father constantly changes his own last name, panos and raphael agreed that konnie would take raphael’s, if not for stability, for social prestige

Shipping p: it’s rare that there’s chemistry for a sexual/romantic ship but i’m pretty open to trying! love enemy ships for him tho! k: no sexual/romantic ships since i’ll play him as a minor both: platonic and familial ships, ftw Selectivity/Activity p: always active/ will interact with everyone and anyone k: quite finicky/ will interact with anyone ***Trigger Warnings talk of: physical, mental, and sexual abuse, violence, death, graphic sex, death, mental illness, disordered eating, anxiety, weapons actions: physical and emotional violence, murder, body horror, disordered eating, weapons (guns and knives) Panos’ childhood was full of abuse: mental, physical, and sexual. I won’t bring up specifics in my writings unless prompted and will tag them accordingly. Panos does engage in a lot of violence and uses violent language. Panos suffers from disordered eating and a mood disorder, the earlier shown in less than subtle ways. Konnie has generalized anxiety. If any of these things are a serious problem, message me and I’ll be sure to constantly tag them. If you find yourself overwhelmed or know you will be, please don’t be afraid to soft block. I really wouldn’t mind.

#'NEW' MUSES #finally said fuck it and put them here #p.introduction #k.introduction #p.about #k.about #their stories depend on raph's so hey... might as well

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brandtmax · 4 years

Text

welcome back to gallagher academy, soo-yun ‘maxine’ brandt ! according to their records, they’re a first year, specializing in research & development; and they did not go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( sugar-free mints, a messy low bun, wisps of hair alongside her face, the end of a pen between her teeth, the patek philippe calatrava 4897r-010 in rose gold, off-white pants in every fabric ). when it’s the ( virgo ) ’s birthday on 08/23/1997, they always request their japchae from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

henlo it me again i hope u guys aren’t sick of me yet bc i have a new bby named max! i’ve written a lot™️ so brace urself but it’s worth it ( i think ) + trigger warnings: death and alcohol dependency under the cut xxx

the basics

full name: soo-yun ‘ maxine ’ brandt

nicknames: max — just max

age: twenty-two years old

birthday: august 23rd, 1997

gender: cis female

preferred pronouns: she / her

sexuality: bisexual

major: research & development ( formerly a b.a. political science degree from yale university )

known languages: english ( native ) / german ( native ) / korean ( native )

background

nationality: american

birthplace: new haven, connecticut, new hampshire

current location: gallagher academy, roseville, virginia

financial status: upper class

religion: non-theistic

appearance

eye color: brown

hair color: black

height: 5′8.5″

notable features: curly hair on lazy days, rosy cheeks

usual mood and expression: calm, furrowed eyebrows whenever her eyes are on work; lethargic and irritable when she’s overworked ( or without alcohol )

family

birth order: second born

parents: soon-bok ‘ vivian ’ jang and stephen brandt ( d. 2018 )

siblings: min-jun ‘ parker ’ brandt ( b. 1995 ) & georgia ‘ gigi ’ brandt ( b. 2001 )

significant others: chris harmon ( 2013-2015 ) / ava carrillo ( 2015-2016 )

her story so far (this is so long n serious lol)

soo-yun 'maxine' brandt was born and raised in new haven, connecticut, to jang soon-bok ( vivian ), a surgeon, and stephen brandt, a ( n allegedly shady ) criminal justice lawyer.

the brandt siblings were raised like any other blue-blooded, very strict but loving household ( strict = mom / loving = dad )

brandt house rules: get straight a’s, follow the 12 am curfew and don't bring anyone home that you know you’d get disowned for. follow those three rules, and you can do whatever you want.

there was pressure for the brandt siblings to be academically accomplished, but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle. they were well-tutored, semi-popular, attractive teenagers, which were common in new haven, and everyone knew they were destined for ivy league.

in high school, she dated chris harmon, and it was the kind of relationship that could only be described as the personification of a kinder egg. sweet on the outside, a waste of time and money on the inside.

which is fine; it took max about 2 months to get over it when they broke up halfway through senior year, because neither of them thought of their relationship going far. the joy of getting into yale ( already expected ) trumped the feeling of losing a boyfriend. she even bet parker $5,000 she'd get early admission. she won.

during college, she had an on-off relationship with ava carrillo for a year, which inevitably became a permanent off. it turned out that it wasn't a good idea to throw herself into a committed relationship the minute she stepped foot into yale. max never had the time, and ava didn't have the patience. at least she tried it tho !

things seemed to be on the up and up for their family, and the worst thing max has ever been through is being awake for 24 straight hours to prepare for a final presentation. but ! you know what they say about the calm before the storm.

( tw: death ) on december 18, 2018, their father unexpectedly passed away from a heart attack during a layover flight in new york. the brandt family was at home when they heard the news. needless to say, they had a quiet christmas and new year.

the family tried to move on as best they could, but the siblings knew their dad's death irreversibly changed their mom. they have a rocky relationship to begin with, the siblings always feeling like vivian never wanted to become a parent and only did so for their father. they have absolutely no mother-children bond, and it got worse when stephen died. being the older brother, parker took it upon himself to take care of vivian, balancing that with running the home stretch with his undergrad degree.

on the other hand, maxine still had a few years left at yale. no amount of therapy helped her cope with the loss of her father, the way her mother seemed to become a shell of herself, how parker had to break the momentum of his career to be there for their mom, and the constant pressure to do good academically.

( tw: alcohol dependency ) it started with buying bottled moscow mules because she didn't like how beer tasted, and she wasn't dumb enough to go straight to hard liquor. just one to take the edge off whenever stacks of coursework became too much, or when her mother would send her an email talking about her day, and she didn't have the courage to read it. then it went from a one, two, three-time thing to a whenever-i'm-upset thing, which slid into a whenever-i-feel-like-it thing. after a while, it became a daylight thing where she would add a splash of soju ( or whatever ) to her lunchtime drinks, and she genuinely thought it was just a funny idea at first. max wasn't the only day drinker in her social group, anyway. she found it acceptable, no different than how other people would pound red bull every 6 hours like it's their life force. it was manageable for her since she was able to schedule when she'd be indisposed, and she still can.

parker had ( and still has ) no clue. despite the two being close, max spared him the burden of having another thing to worry about. as long as she can control it ( or she thinks she can ) then nobody had anything to worry about.

eventually, both maxine and parker were offered the opportunity to join gallagher academy, with parker in line to graduate with honors in global affairs and maxine, not far behind with her own impressive academic portfolio in political science.

though really, her acceptance into gallagher has less to do with her published papers ( still impressive, tho ) and more to do with her covertly helping her father win cases by doing some expert sleuthing, strategizing, witness dispatching + discrediting, sexc breaking and entering, and good, old-fashioned manipulation !

it was something they both wanted; to be a part of the bigger picture in the world, but they knew they couldn't leave their mother alone. parker, who chose to make the sacrifice, let maxine go and stayed behind to take care of vivian.

( but if we’re honest, maxine would’ve left for gallagher regardless if parker was coming with her, but she’ll never tell him that )

despite the guilt and telling parker she wasn't going anywhere ( cough ), he insisted on her taking the once-in-a-lifetime chance to be a part of something they never knew existed. he knew they were going to end up resenting each other if they both stayed. at least one person in the family should be doing something that made them happy.

and so max dropped out of yale and left for roseville, even though she hadn't thoroughly planned out her career trajectory.

she’s eager not just because of the school, obviously. she can't handle going back to their childhood home and seeing how hollow everything is. plus, the immense anger and denial she feels over her dad’s untimely death has no place in new haven anymore.

she promised parker she'd make it up to him, though. somehow, someday.

who is this b*nch

max is relatively easy to get along with, tbh !

she’s a mood matcher; meaning if you’re nice to her, then she’s nice to you ( and if you’re gonna be a punk bitch, then she’ll be a punk bitch right back )

she’s a lil spoiled, lil sheltered, and lil ignorant but her general friendliness makes up for it, she’s the type to be friends with ( almost ) everyone

internally: perfectionist to the point of being ruthless, first place is the only acceptable place, meticulous, neurotic, workaholic, overachiever, if you’re not useful then what’s your purpose?, slightly egotistical, etc etc

externally: caring, protective, and supportive mom friend who just wants people to get their shit together because inadequacy is unacceptable, fixer, likes to dip into different social circles, consciously makes the effort to be more patient with people

she’s incredibly ambitious ? morally ambiguous ? slightly self-serving and self-involved ? her father’s a criminal “justice” lawyer whose clientele doesn’t exactly consist of the beacons of society so... she learned a lot of lessons about how you can win any case in the courtroom if you’re smart enough to a ) make a good story, b ) get the fitting evidence by any means necessary, c ) discredit and discard the necessary people, and d ) be charming and persuasive enough to rock the jury

she’s actively trying to be more open-minded and assimilate to a diverse group of people because back in yale she was definitely in a wasp bubble, and admittedly there are times where she will come off as super snobby without meaning to and tbh sorry about it

she’s still an extremely sociable person because yale also taught her how to network like a motherfucker, and how it’s important to know / be friends with everyone

honestly, intense people turn her off ( both positive and negative ) a little because she can't handle concentrated personalities in one sitting

even though she’s a little intense herself sometimes but it’s fine, we love hypocrites in this house !

neat freak ? but honestly who doesn’t like a friend who squeegees the shower every day and has a tiny can of lysol in their bag and an aroma diffuser with three ( 3 ) oil blends

she’s like... weirdly aggressive sometimes and most definitely has anger issues ( still in denial over her father unexpectedly passing away and getting stuck with a mom who doesn’t like her own children very much )

but also, she’s just agro in general and has a number of physical hobbies. she’s an ice skater, equestrian, a soulcyclist, and a kickboxer. she can fite.

she’s not the type to make fun of herself because she's not at a point where she sees qualities in her that are okay to laugh at ( unless you’re tight )

keeps her negative juju to herself because she’s a very private person

will prioritize work over play because she'd hardwired like that, but that doesn't mean she's anti-fun ( clearly )

definitely needs to loosen up a little that doesn't involve alcohol... jenga perhaps ? or actually try therapy again ?

very effectively sneaky about her growing alcohol dependency ( sugar-free breath mints, brushes her teeth + uses mouthwash after every meal )

dry sense of humor

at all times: wears a 1-carat, emerald cut, pavé diamond ring ( family heirloom ) + carries her trusty black hydro flask with her ( 24 oz. ) and no one is allowed to drink from it !

her signature scent is le labo bergamote 22 🤍

hmu on my discord @ tin#0697 for plottage !

#gallagher:intro #death tw #alcoholism tw #alcohol dependency tw #ps when u see a typo #just close ur eyes

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hellsbovnd · 4 years

Text

what its like to pretend.

wc: 2719 focus: leonnaux altoix a/n: caught a writing bug. first installment of probably a three-part series, but i have other stuff i wanna work on before i continue this! thanks ebonguard for sprinting with me and encouraging my Mess lol

and i swam in the wakes of imposters just to feel what it’s like to pretend;

[ PDF MIRROR ]

One of the greatest skills that Leonnaux possessed was the ability to blend in, despite his burning desire to stand out. It hadn’t been easy to forge these skills, and the early days were rife with trial and error while his makeup work steadily improved, while he picked up little tricks to alter his figure or the way he carried himself—gait being one of the most difficult things to consciously alter. These days, he felt as comfortable in the skin of someone else as he did in his own.

The best way to test his disguises, he’d found was of course in the midst of other people—parties, nights out on the city streets. While he always asked for at least passing approval of his disguise ideas from Edda—“I’m asking you if you think this is convincing, not if you think it’s attractive,” he would occasionally remind her for his zanier ideas—the only way to really tell was among strangers (or better yet those he knew before, but he honestly would feel bad for deceiving his friends in such a way).

If no one was suspicious, it would get added to his repertoire—filed away for future use.

Tonight he’d chosen a dive bar in one of Ul’dah’s seedier areas: far away from the sort of establishment he would usually frequent, but the food was good, at least. Never tried a drink before, didn’t want to risk it at the time just in case drinking made it harder to maintain a façade. He had used this establishment to test disguises before and the bartender remained unconvinced of his authenticity for the entire night. That had been over a year ago, though, and he liked to think that he had improved substantially since then.

As Leonnaux made his way inside, he found the bar was just as smoke-choked as he remembered it. The lanterns on each of the tables were forced to cut their way through a thick curtain of smoke to illuminate the space. Leonnaux wrinkled his nose at the smell, his hands buried in his pockets, a wry smile pulling at the corners of his lips. The establishment was very nearly filled to capacity, with a number of patrons drinking their sorrows at the bar or engaged in a merry night of banter at one of the tables.

One or two parties were even engaged in some heated card games on the balcony above, but he wasn’t in the mood for cards tonight—he was in the mood to get even.

The disguise of the night was on the subtler side of things; unlike his adventure in Ishgard during the Fury’s Moon, he tried to keep his appearance fairly close to his actual appearance. It was often the subtle changes that were the easiest to pull off, even if they went against his usual philosophy of every impression you make on a stranger should be wrong.

In Ishgard, that philosophy meant making drastic changes in both appearance and manner. Tonight, however, the policy was applied more loosely. He didn’t change the color of his hair, or even the length tonight—though the character that he had constructed presented herself in a more feminine manner than Leonnaux typically did in his day-to-day life—and more rough and tumble besides. He donned a pair of leather pants that he had picked up recently, and threw on a leather long coat on top of it. He settled on compromising with well-fitted, cropped halter top that would hide the fact that his cleavage was fake while still exposing enough abdomen to be provocative. He shed his usual gloves in favor of armguards and feathers reminiscent of a magpie’s iridescent blue-green plumage were intertwined with short braids just in front of his ears.

A little makeup work smoothed down sharp angles and strong lines in his face; eyeliner, mascara, and kohl framed his eyes—glamoured to be mismatched shades of hazel—for a suitably intense look when paired with dark lipstick. And of course, a pendant was tucked into his shirt to change his voice so that he would not have to strain to maintain a higher timbre for the night—which without magic would be the one aspect of his person that was unlikely to pass muster while wearing a feminine guise.

“Evening,” the bartender greeted with a smile, tossing the rag he was using to dry newly-cleaned glasses over his shoulder. “What can I get ya?” He was an scrutinizing fellow, a Duskwight with a discerning eye. The sun had given his skin a little more color over the years than he would have had naturally, stealing enough of the grayness from his skin that were it not for the clan tattoos running up his arm and neck—etched into his skin with a blade, not a needle, and highlighted only in certain spots with white ink—he would pass for a Wildwood. His dark gaze settled on Leonnaux, his lips twisted in a smile that was—procedural, somewhat sarcastic even.

Leonnaux tapped a manicured nail on the counter as he hauled himself up and onto the bar stool. When he spoke, it was not with his own voice, but a more feminine one—albeit one on the sultry, low side, as he figured that that sort of voice would fit the character he created for the night the best. “Sazerac. On the rocks.”

His gaze rose to the bartender as he slid some gil coins forward to provide payment for the drink—and a tip, of course.

The bartender nodded and set about making the drink. It wasn’t done with as much finesse as Leonnaux would employ if he were the one on the other side of the bar, and the ingredients here were subpar—catered towards people who were more concerned about getting nice and drunk than people who wanted a high-class experience. That suited him fine, and he tried not to watch the bartender too closely as he muddled the sugar, the water, the bitters. The cognac, the whiskey—stirred, not shaken—then slid over to Leonnaux after a lemon peel was lazily tossed into the glass and left there.

Leonnaux let it sit for a moment before bringing the glass to his lips, leaving some dark plum-red lipstick on its rim once the glass was lowered back onto its coaster. It was good—for the components used. It was what he paid for, anyway; he knew that a place like this probably didn’t have the wherewithal to obtain the nice Ishgardian cognac, and he knew that it wasn’t really ‘in-character’ to complain.

So instead he mumbled a thanks, casting his gaze about the bar. A drunk Seeker whose arms and chest were almost completely covered in tattoos was about six shots in two stools to his left. The stool immediately to his right was vacated soon after he ordered his drink, a midlander woman with eyes like daggers and a scar running down over her right eye having apparently had her fill of listening to the men upstairs gamble their paychecks away.

“So… Friendly bunch,” he started, somewhat awkwardly as the midlander held his gaze until the heavy door had fallen shut in her wake and she was back out on Ul’dah’s streets.

“Friendly’s a word. Think most of our professions down here kinda exclude us from the category,” the bartender replied, setting the Seeker up with another shot even though he definitely did not seem conscious enough that that would be a good idea. The bartender’s voice carried with it a thick accent—caught somewhere between what he had grown up hearing in the depths of the Black Shroud and what might be expected of Coerthas natives.

“I… Don’t think I could have guessed,” Leonnaux replied, squinting a bit. For the disguise he’d gone without his glasses—it wasn’t really possible to navigate around them for every single disguise he wanted to try. Thankfully the low light of the bar didn’t impact his vision too much, and he only had to deal with distance-related issues. The bartender right in front of him was just barely out-of-focus, and the rest of the room? A blur. “Between the scars and the tattoos. You got word of the street?”

The bartender huffed a laugh. “Depends on what you’re lookin’ for, missy.”

“Call me that again and I’ll break your fingers.”

“Oh, oh, this one has spunk! I like it!” The huff turned to something heartier, this time the bartender laughing from deep within his chest, shoulders heaving. “Most interesting thing anyone’s said to me all godsdamned night. Well, then, what’s your angle?”

Leonnaux’s shoulders rose and fell in a half-hearted shrug. “Just new here, just lookin’ for some fun,” he replied, setting his sazerac down on the counter and retrieving a silver cigarette case from an interior pocket of his coat, along with a box of matches. He places a cigarette between his plum-colored lips before offering one to the bartender across from him. “Looks like you are, too?”

The bartender scoffs before taking a cigarette, producing a very different implement for lighting his cigarette—a well-crafted lighter, like the ones that Leonnaux had often seen crafted through the collaborative efforts of the Goldsmith’s Guild and the Alchemist’s Guild, a small fire shard producing a small flame once it was flipped open. He huffed a bit at the sight before striking a match and using that to light his cigarette. The match was blown out before being discarded in a nearby ashtray, overflowing with ashes and cigarette butts and similarly-discarded matches.

“You could say I’m looking for a little entertainment, yeah,” the bartender replied, “It’s all the same shite ‘round here.” He blew out a cloud of smoke to punctuate the statement, a sigh. “Fun’s dried up if that’s what you’re looking for, though. Jobs, though. Plenty of jobs. Jobs that you gotta be really fuckin’ down on your luck to consider takin’, though.”

Leonnaux couldn’t help a little bit of laughter at that. “Well, let’s say I’m down on my luck then. City’s not real easy to get started in, unless you’d rather give me tips than work. But I’d really prefer the work.”

“Not a whole lot for a pretty face like you to do besides hook on street corners.”

His eyebrow couldn’t help but twitch a little in response to that—a brief expression that didn’t go unnoticed, since the bartender burst out laughing in response.

“Oh, oh, lighten up. If you can’t take a joke then you ain’t gonna last five ticks out there.”

“Rest assured, you’re not the only one who’s lacked enough sense to tell me that. Lucky for you, though, you can make a decent drink. The other ones couldn’t.” He lifted his sazerac, then, removing his cigarette from his lips and blowing out the smoke to take a sip from the glass. “Guess you have a half-decent face too. Hate to ruin it.”

“Well, color me honored.” The bartender ashed his cigarette, poured the Miqo’te gent another shot—absinthe this time, Leon realized, and though now he was wondering if the bartender was just steadily making his way up the ladder in terms of alcohol strength, he couldn’t help but think the man two stools down might need to stop if he didn’t want to end up worse than passed out in a ditch. “Laraunt, by the way. So, if you’re looking for work… Well, got some postings over in the back. But if I’m being frank, there’s been some shite going on that I’d love for someone to look into. What’s your trade, missy?”

“Call me Reine,” he corrected. “I’m serious about your fingers.”

“Sure, sure, right, right. Anyway, what’s it you do?”

Leonnaux clicked his tongue, considering for a moment, lowering his gaze to the lemon peel floating in his drink. “… This and that. Anything for the right price. Ran some drugs when I was up in Gridania—sonmus, snow, you know, that shite. Prefer to work more discreetly where I can, though—stuff what won’t give folks a paper trail to look for… Information, a favorite.”

His gaze returned to Laraunt , then, watching him carefully for any sign that he wasn’t convinced—pinning his preferred trade as information was a risk, but it was the only risk he could feasibly take. He couldn’t offer any answer that would be easy to verify; he couldn’t describe in-depth what it was like to work a job that he had no experience with whatosever, not even by proxy. To say nothing of if Laraunt decided to cross-check him, or press for more details than he had.

Laraunt considered for a moment before offering Leonnaux a half-shrug. “Information’s honest enough trade, I guess. You just a broker, or do you do groundwork?”

“Depends on my mood…” Leonnaux trailed off, then, somewhat uncertain before he nodded to Laraunt’s tattoos: raised scars and white ink against his dark skin, etching intricate runes and designs and occultic symbols into his exposed forearm and extending up his sleeve to his neck. The designs themselves were, of course, pleasing to the eye—but the runes were chiefly Duskwight in usage, sigils of power similar to the ones etched into pomanders. “But you could say I’ve always to ears out, eh?”

The bartender arched a brow, then, before nodding his assent. “Ah, more than just a pretty face, then! Seems you have some keen eyes, too. Well… Well, I suppose you’ll do, Reine. If you think you can get the job done. I’ve been through a few brokers, kind of need a dedicated investigator if I’m being honest. They all chickened out once they got a handle for the situation.”

Leonnaux perked up a bit, folding his hands in front of him on the table and ashing his cigarette. He looked the bartender over, but without his glasses his eye for detail was somewhat limited, even this close. “Well, running drugs up to the Shroud ain’t exactly a cushy fucking job, as long as no one’s gonna try and drain my body of its blood I think I can stomach getting my hands a little dirty.” He scoffed, then, as if it was a joke. “So what is it. I can’t say for sure unless you tell me what the job is.”

Laraunt met Leonnaux’s eyes, then, his lips pressing into a thin line. “My sister’s missing.”

Oh—oh.

Leonnaux had to fight off the shock when the bartender’s voice suddenly becoming quite grave, going from somewhat condescending and sarcastic to a sobering baritone is no time flat. He took a breath, considering those three words as he drew his cigarette back to his lips, puffing away quietly.

“If it’s a missing person case, I think you’re gonna want the Blades instead.”

“Not considering what all my sister was getting up to before she went and vanished.” Laraunt tapped a fingertip—hard—on the surface of the counter, pulling Leonnaux’s attention back up to his eyes. “This ain’t the best place to give details though—or time. How can I get in touch with you after this? Sit down for a more proper talk. Client to broker.”

Leonnaux paused, offering a shrug. “I’m new here. You think I already have an office? Just pick a day pick a time and—I’ll meet you out back. After a shift, maybe. So we won’t be interrupted.” He tilted his chin up, then, before he snuffed the cigarette out, grinding it in the ashtray and leaving it there in a crumpled heap. With a grimace, he slammed back the rest of his sazerac in one go, chewing on the lemon rind left behind once the glass was emptied.

“Ah, eh… Should be free at the end of the week.”

“Cool. I’ll see you then—see if I can’t turn up any leads on a missin’ Duskwight in Ul’dah in the meantime.”

“I’d appreciate it.” There’s a pause and Laraunt takes a breath, watching Leonnaux as he starts to leave. “Hey, say—this is bugging me, but have I seen you before?”

Leonnaux’s heart skipped a beat, and he paused mid-step to look over his shoulder, one hand against the heavy wooden door, poised to make his way out.

“I don’t know. Have you?”

––to be continued.

#crystal data center #ffxiv rp #balmung rp #crystal rp #ffxiv balmung #ffxiv crystal #hellsbovnd #( c: leonnaux; )#( writing; )#[ i keep saying leon is cis/gender nonconforming but honestly w how i write him he might actually just b straight up genderfluid ]#[ i just dont want transphobes crawling into my mentions to call me gamer words so i'm gonna keep him as cis on paper lol ]#[ no harm in having little a noncanon headcanons about my own character.... as a treat ]

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seven-oomen · 4 years

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First, I hope you’re enjoying your game. One of my friends posted about how she’d just gotten her copy of it, and her husband’s response was basically “so, I’ll just bring you food occasionally and see you in a few days?" Also, I hope you’re feeling better. And man you are KILLING ME with these previews. Oh god, Peter, what are you planning now? How bad is this gonna hurt and for how long? (Don’t answer that, I’m afraid to know. XD )

I think all those Hogwarts Houses are excellent choices. I always think it’s fun to see how people sort various characters, because I rarely have any that I feel are firmly one House (maybe it’s because I’m a proud HuffleClaw, myself, doomed to waffle between Houses every time I take a quiz or read an analysis on the subject.) Side not - can you imagine the furor that would have occurred about a Slytherin and a Gryffindor hooking up in Fourth Year (I think?), and then pulling an innocent little Hufflepuff transfer under their spell? Would any of them have played Quidditch? (Peter I feel definitely played, though I can’t decide what position. Undecided on the other two.)

Poor Peter, having to behave himself. Although debatably as long as he kept the fangs put away it wouldn’t necessarily be a risk, though I can see him being worried anyway. That’s why he needs to find someone to spin his fur into yarn he can then make them scarves/gloves/sweaters/etc with. And why he’s so into the clothes sharing. Anything to get his scent on them as thoroughly as possible.

And I am so here for PTA Dad Peter. Helping out at school functions so he can keep an eye on the younger kids. Building new, supportive relationships with his older kids, helping them with college applications and essays, making up lists of stuff they’ll need for dorm rooms, finding apartments if any are going to the same or nearby schools and can share, making sure they all have pictures and mementos to help combat homesickness. And now I’m thinking about the memory quilt again. Goddammit I don’t want to make myself cry. Again. "Imagine Peter hearing their heartbeats for the first time." Oh nevermind, I see you’ll do it for me. Ugh, my feels. Peter shifting to his wolf form and curling protectively around them all the time, head pressed up to their abdomen so that he can listen and scent at maximum effectiveness. Them just gently stroking through his fur until one or both fall asleep. (Also, how quickly do the other wolves in the family pick up on the changes in scent? How do they react? How do the older kids react to the idea of more siblings in general?)

And you know that whichever one wasn’t the one pregnant at the time would be super protective at the time, then turn around and insist they were fine and that the others were worrying unnecessarily when they were the one pregnant. (Also, glad your brother was okay!) I also like that it apparently took them nearly 20 years to learn about planning for this sort of thing. I know you’ve mentioned Peter and Chris being the ones that do the stupid thing next chapter (or something to that effect), but really I feel the biggest moment of "what the hell, guys?” is Noah getting knocked up just two months after Chris. It’s like, you guys had a huge, in your face, live example of why protection is important, and yet… I’m also just going to assume that they have at least a king size bed to accommodate that many people, even if many of them are tiny people, and none of them mind piling. That’s still a lot of bodies cramming into one bed. (That much room would also come in very handy for…other reasons, which is why I feel certain Peter would insist upon it.)

Also, omg, I was not expecting to be attacked by those pictures like that. Tag your porn, dude XD . But really, can you imagine the poor, unsuspecting college friends their kids bring home for visits getting a triple barrel of that with no warning? Like they’ve just seen the goofy, weird pics that they have on their phone/on their walls. They were not prepared for the sheer DILF power of that household live and in person. But then, is anyone, really?

Loving all the names. I actually know a guy named John who has a son named Jackson, so that one was particularly amusing to me. I also noticed that none of the kids have been named after anyone in Noah’s family, at least so far. And don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting to have those spoiled yet, though I’m happy to know you liked some of my suggestions :D . Now if I could just remember which all ones I went with… Didn’t really think to put it in anywhere, but for some reason I’ve always liked Alexander as a middle name for Peter, though I remain undecided on the other two.

And yes, loving the idea of more family cosplay. Oh god, they would never get ANYWHERE at a con because they’d be getting stopped every 3 feet for pictures. For Star Trek, I feel like they’d do groupings from assorted series and versions. Chris, Peter, and Noah are totally OS Spock, Kirk, and Bones (Peter with strategically torn shirt, of course). I think Melissa would be their Uhura, and Natalie would be Yeoman Rand (she wants to see if she can fake the hairstyle), because I dare anyone to tell them they can’t pull off dresses that short. Since he has sword training from his hunter background, Melissa makes Julio be their Sulu. Boyd, Derek, and Jordan would be Picard, Riker, and Data (Derek would totally figure out how to do that weird way Riker sits down, too.) After much debate, I feel Stiles would be Kirk from the recent films (NuTrek, or whatever they call it), Jackson would be Spock, and Malia would be Bones. I think Lydia would make an excellent Uhura for them, as well. Scott would be Scotty because he can remember to answer to it, and it gives him an excuse to do a TERRIBLE fake accent. I’m leaning towards Isaac for their Chekov, but beyond that can’t think what to do with everybody else, I’m not familiar enough with the different tv shows.

Marvel we’ve talked about some. DC I have a few random ideas. I always thought it would be funny to see Peter, Derek, Jackson, and Liam do the assorted Robins. While I feel Peter is DEFINITELY more of a Jason personality wise, I think he’d be far more comfortable in Dick’s costume that Derek would be, and if Derek was Jason the heights would line up better. Jackson would be Tim, and Liam would be Damian (because who else would play DC’s tiny and angry than TW’s tiny and angry?) Also, don’t overlook the fun and variety of villains DC offers. The last group costume I did was a cross between Bill & Ted and assorted Bat-villains. We called it Bruce & Dick’s Excellent Adventure, and even photoshopped a sign to carry to help people get it. Among our line-up was Cleo-Catra, Ivybeth the First, The Poison Queen, Harley Antoinette, Joker Napoleon, Freud Nygma, and Bane-thoven. (I really need to do something with the various pieces of my costume someday.) I know there are several girls in the Bat-fam now, too, depending on who all wants to be a part of it, or if they want to skew more Justice League/Teen Titans/Young Justice.

Oh man, Disney. So many options. I feel like Lydia and Allison as Ariel and Prince Eric is a given. I also like the idea of Kira and Malia as Belle and the Beast, partially because of Malia’s issues about having to hide her nature, and also because I think she could absolutely rock that suit. Ben could join them as Chip. (Stiles would actually make an excellent Belle, but I feel that might just get weird.) I can see Danny helping Erica rig up a Sleeping Beauty dress with strands of LEDs that keep shifting from pink to blue to green so the dress keeps appearing to change color (it’s a massive hit.) I don’t know why, but I really want Stiles and Jackson as Elsa and Anna for some reason. Scott can join them as either Kristoff or Olaf, depending on the mood he’s in. Can’t quite decide for the other pack kids. Since the theme is nominally just fairy tales, I think the dads could just opt for a classier, fancier version of their Red Riding Hood looks. Maybe go for a steampunk edge or something (I would have included links here, but Google was not my friend today and I couldn’t find quite what I wanted.) Rich velvets and wools in vivid scarlet and forest-y greens, black and deep brown leather and suede, lots of polished buttons and buckles, loose cotton shirts unlaced at the throat. Mmm, yes. And Peter could have one of those super fancy Victorian type nightgowns with the long sleeves and high necks made out of super soft and fine materials. Instead of getting some kind of mask to wear, he’d just do his partial/beta/whatever you want to call it shift and let them add extra fur on with makeup to blend it in. Everyone just thinks it’s amazing effects work. He does opt for some cute wolf paw slippers since cons tend to get snotty about people going around barefoot. (Applying and removing the fur is also how they learn his ears are particularly…sensitive…to a delicate touch in that form.)

Lord of the Rings. Yes. Like, I can’t figure out who or any real details right now but. Just. Yes.

I feel like some years they enter the costume contest and some they don’t, just depending on their moods. (They totally take the Jurassic Park group to a con and people adore it. It makes for great skits.)

Random bonus thought for the day concerns dancing. I was thinking about the whole drag queen thing, and whether Jungle was around in the 90s, and it sort of segued into what types of dancers they are. I feel like Peter is a very good dancer. Not quite competition level, maybe, but very skilled, nonetheless. Like Malia, he’s just very comfortable in himself, in all forms, which helps with spatial and bodily awareness, in addition to his natural grace and balance. I also feel he’s the most likely to have taken, like, ballroom lessons or similar as a kid, maybe at a parent or grandparent’s insistence. With Noah I keep thinking about the various videos I’ve seen of Dylan dancing both outside of TW and as Stiles, and I feel his dad would have a very similar style of awkward disaster from the chest up, undulations worthy of a harem girl from the waist down (those Stilinski boys tend to leave a lot of confused boners in their wake.) In Noah’s case, settling into his frame after that last growth spurt and learning self-defense/martial arts helped smooth most of the awkward out, but it resurfaces every so often. Chris I think would be the least likely to dance, just because I feel his background would make him very self-conscious about it, whether he wants to feel that way or not. He’ll dance if it’s just the three of them or just family, or for a slow dance, but that’s normally it. However, if he’s drunk enough, or if Noah or Peter have dragged him into a dark corner to makeout for a while and gotten him all distracted and relaxed, he can be pursued out onto the floor to show off some actually pretty sweet moves once he lets go.

Anyway, gonna try and wrap this up, because I just realized it’s way later than I realized, and I should try and get some sleep at some point. Enjoy your game, I hope it’s epic!

When this little paragraph made me realize I had a gaping plot hole in this chapter and I got to go back to fix it. My god my friend, you are a lifesaver!

I also like that it apparently took them nearly 20 years to learn about planning for this sort of thing. I know you’ve mentioned Peter and Chris being the ones that do the stupid thing next chapter (or something to that effect), but really I feel the biggest moment of "what the hell, guys?” is Noah getting knocked up just two months after Chris. It’s like, you guys had a huge, in your face, live example of why protection is important, and yet…

Because oh yeah I wanted to make it canon that wolves can detect a heartbeat of the embryo at 4-5 weeks. Which is about a week after the heart starts beating. And oh yeah, Chris is two months along by the time Noah gets pregnant... shit. I wrote something else in that flashback.

And now I got to fix that, so cheers!

I also finished writing my chapter today! Yay! All glorious 13K of it. And I’ll be editing and posting tomorrow (or technically later today as it is past midnight.) Oh, I’m so excited, I’m so excited to see what you think!

As for the game, my god it is awesome!!! I played a few hours today but my heart raced so much I had to pause after two hours because I was getting dizzy because of my heart. But it’s a great game so far, very accessible and it just draws me in completely. It’s so good.

Definitely what I needed after my day at work.

hehehe I’m happy to see my previews and writing and getting emotions, it sounds so bad, but that makes me smile because it’s getting the desired response and that’s awesome.

“Cue Lego Movie music”

can you imagine the furor that would have occurred about a Slytherin and a Gryffindor hooking up in Fourth Year (I think?), and then pulling an innocent little Hufflepuff transfer under their spell? Would any of them have played Quidditch? (Peter I feel definitely played, though I can’t decide what position. Undecided on the other two.)

I think Peter would’ve been a chaser or beater, somehow those seem to fit him well. Noah played but he was a keeper. (which would be funny if Peter was a chaser since they would get to battle lover’s disputes on the quidditch pitch) Chris I feel wouldn’t play quidditch, he’s too busy trying to keep track of his studies and really just likes to watch the sport but not participate. I think he’d be more into care of magical creatures and defends against the dark arts than any kind of sport. Though he does join and excel at the dueling club.

And the scandal of Peter and Noah dating from fourth year on would be massive, people can barely wrap their heads around it. But they’re happy and they’re just doing their own thing. And they don’t pay attention to anyone else but what they think and what Chris thinks of them.

Peter shifting to his wolf form and curling protectively around them all the time, head pressed up to their abdomen so that he can listen and scent at maximum effectiveness. Them just gently stroking through his fur until one or both fall asleep. (Also, how quickly do the other wolves in the family pick up on the changes in scent? How do they react? How do the older kids react to the idea of more siblings in general?)

<3 <3 it’s honestly an adorable image. The twins are very active when dad’s curled up around them, knowing just where to kick so Peter’s wakes up by a foot to the face. Though he doesn’t mind and just nudges back gently, letting out a low grumbling noise or whine that he knows the babies can hear in utero. As for how quickly, it depends on whether or not they smelled it before. Jackson, Ben, or Scott wouldn’t pick up on it. They weren’t wolves around pregnancies before. Malia and Derek catch on quickly though. They start noticing the scent change at around 5-6 weeks and hear the little heartbeats of the new family members.

Malia is moderately excited, she’s a little worried about her dad and how he will handle pregnancy at his age. (Although he’s like 35 when he gets pregnant, that counts as a geriatric pregnancy, dad... I’m worried.)

Stiles just flips between the two of extreme worry where he read up on pre-eclampsia and other pregnancy complications and birth complications and omg what if that happens. But he’s also so so excited because omg he’s finally gonna be an older brother!!

(He knows he’s Ben’s older brother, and he adores the tyke, but it’s different when you have a pregnancy close instead of a five-year-old sibling from one day to another.)

Jackson is pouty and a bit grumpy. He feels like he’s losing baby status in the family more and more and he doesn’t know how to deal. (Ben was a bit difficult to get used to for him but Chris handled it well by setting time aside for his baby Jackson. It helped. But now he’s a teen and there’s going to be two more babies and he’s- he doesn’t know how to feel. When Chris breaks the news he wants to have another baby he’s even more torn but he does come around, deciding that he will always be the baby of the family, even when he’s not.

It’s a good compromise. And the three parents set some time for each of their kids so everyone gets attention.

Allison handles it the best out of the teens, she’s very excited for all of them and immediately to volunteers helping with decorating the new nursery. She paints a few awesome looking murals of Winnie the Pooh or Bambi or some other cutesy Disney animals (Or maybe even a space/star wars or a fairy tale ala Fables theme?) and just goes all out. She also convinces Malia to quilt a blanket for the new baby and helps her knit a few cute hats. She’s just extremely excited and happy.

Ben is very happy too, he’s finally not the youngest anymore and he’s happy to be an older brother. He also finds it fascinating to learn how pregnancy works and how those babies got in there in the first place. They let him tell them how it works and explain some basic details, sperm, egg, you need both to have a baby and the baby grows in pops and papa’s belly. But they leave out any details that Ben doesn’t figure out or doesn’t ask about to keep it more age-appropriate for him.

Though Ben’s smart and he figures out a lot on his own. Noah and Peter are honestly impressed by Ben’s deductive skills. They knew Jackson and Stiles had them, but they hadn’t expected Ben to show them too. He’s a quiet observer.

They were not prepared for the sheer DILF power of that household live and in person. But then, is anyone, really?

Honestly, I don’t think anyone is. Nobody can resist the sheer DILF power.

Since the theme is nominally just fairy tales, I think the dads could just opt for a classier, fancier version of their Red Riding Hood looks. Maybe go for a steampunk edge or something (I would have included links here, but Google was not my friend today and I couldn’t find quite what I wanted.) Rich velvets and wools in vivid scarlet and forest-y greens, black and deep brown leather and suede, lots of polished buttons and buckles, loose cotton shirts unlaced at the throat. Mmm, yes. And Peter could have one of those super fancy Victorian type nightgowns with the long sleeves and high necks made out of super soft and fine materials. Instead of getting some kind of mask to wear, he’d just do his partial/beta/whatever you want to call it shift and let them add extra fur on with makeup to blend it in. Everyone just thinks it’s amazing effects work. He does opt for some cute wolf paw slippers since cons tend to get snotty about people going around barefoot. (Applying and removing the fur is also how they learn his ears are particularly…sensitive…to a delicate touch in that form.)

I- this whole thing? yes. Headcanon accepted because it is that good. I can literally just see them going in steampunk hunter, red riding hood and the wolf. thank you for putting that image in my mind XD

I feel like Peter is a very good dancer. Not quite competition level, maybe, but very skilled, nonetheless. Like Malia, he’s just very comfortable in himself, in all forms, which helps with spatial and bodily awareness, in addition to his natural grace and balance. I also feel he’s the most likely to have taken, like, ballroom lessons or similar as a kid, maybe at a parent or grandparent’s insistence. With Noah I keep thinking about the various videos I’ve seen of Dylan dancing both outside of TW and as Stiles, and I feel his dad would have a very similar style of awkward disaster from the chest up, undulations worthy of a harem girl from the waist down (those Stilinski boys tend to leave a lot of confused boners in their wake.) In Noah’s case, settling into his frame after that last growth spurt and learning self-defense/martial arts helped smooth most of the awkward out, but it resurfaces every so often. Chris I think would be the least likely to dance, just because I feel his background would make him very self-conscious about it, whether he wants to feel that way or not. He’ll dance if it’s just the three of them or just family, or for a slow dance, but that’s normally it. However, if he’s drunk enough, or if Noah or Peter have dragged him into a dark corner to makeout for a while and gotten him all distracted and relaxed, he can be pursued out onto the floor to show off some actually pretty sweet moves once he lets go.

Malia definitely inherited Peter’s dancing skills, I like to think Jackson did as well. Those three are the best dancers in the family. They just move with natural ease.

Allison is a decent dancer, her gymnastics training really helps but she’s not as fluent as her brother, sister, or dad.

I feel like Noah and Stiles have awkward flailing down to a T but every once in awhile there’s a hip movement worthy of a fucking professional dancer and it’s very confusing. But yeah, totally agree with that assessment of them.

Chris isn’t much of a dancer and neither is Ben. Both of them are very self-conscious. Chris gets better when he’s drunk because he let’s go of insecurity but even then it’s not great. He just doesn’t dance, it’s not his thing. Although he was a very good grinding and hip rotation move. He’s also pretty good at jump style once he lets himself go and just turns his mind off. but the rhythmic jumping just feels natural to him. He also likes to slow dance since he can just bury his face in Noah’s shoulder or nuzzle Peter’s cheek and just forget about everything else.

Also, I like to think they all love to sing. Chris’s voice is best suited for country I feel like. Noah’s more for singer-songwriter. And Peter just loves singing pop songs and he knows how to hit some high notes.

And now I am going to bed because It’s almost three am XD And I need some sleeps. Thankfully I have the day off this sunday.

#ben says stuff #once upon a time comments #submission

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