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leiawritesstories · 2 years ago

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Lights, Camera, Yulemas!

Written for 12 Days of Rowaelin, basically every day lol @rowaelinscourt and based off this prompt from @everenvacker

Word count: 2,865

Warnings: language, innuendo, flirting, slight hints of angst. also i'm not sorry for ending it there teehee

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good afternoon, passengers, this is your captain speaking from the flight deck." The man's smooth voice cut through Aelin's concentration, and she looked up from her thick folder of notes, wincing a bit at the pinch in her neck from spending four hours bent over her work. "We have begun our final descent into Orynth. The local temperature is just about 8 degrees Fahrenheit, with clear skies and sun--though the sun isn't doing much against the chill, I'm afraid." A pause so the passengers could chuckle. "We're expecting to land in approximately twenty minutes. Flight attendants, final checks and prepare cabin for arrival." He put down the microphone.

Aelin stretched her arms above her head and closed her thick manila folder, tucking it back into her expensive tote bag--the only piece she'd ever designed exclusively for herself--which she stored in the lovely little closet space to her right. Ah, the perks of flying first class.

Directly across the aisle, a woman who appeared a few years older than Aelin gasped, clearly having caught sight of her tote. "Excuse me for my rudeness, but is that...a Galathynius?"

Aelin half-turned, offering the woman a smile. "It is! In fact, it's a custom one, something you won't see in any in-store or online collection." She winked. "Let's just say I...well, I know the designer personally."

Just her luck, the couple of sketches that had slipped her notice chose that moment to flutter onto the ground.

"Bloody hell," Aelin grumbled, leaning down to pick them up. "Pardon my rudeness."

The woman gasped, clearly having seen the sketches. "Holy gods!" Her eyes were wider than the plane windows. "Are you...you're Aelin Galathynius!"

Aelin tipped her head. "Busted." She tucked the drawings neatly into her bag. "Pleased to meet you, Ms...."

"Lyria," the woman rushed. "Lyria Frelau." She flashed Aelin a charming, sweet grin. "If it's not too personal, I actually work in the modeling industry--gods no, not as a model, that was never my path. I'm an agent at a firm in Orynth, that's all."

"Well, Lyria, let me tell you something--there's no such thing as 'just an agent.'" Aelin winked. "If I'm being honest, agents are the ones who make the world go 'round, as it were, because you help set up the people who walk in shows so little designers like me can get our work out to the world." On a whim, she handed Lyria her business card. "I'm releasing a Yulemas collection here in Orynth, actually, and if you're interested, please do give me a call." She grinned. "I'm sure I can find you a few tickets."

"Oh my--I--" Lyria accepted Aelin's card, incredulous. "Gods, thank you so much!" She beamed. "If it's not too much, I will certainly be interested in this show of yours--oh gosh, I can hardly believe it!"

Aelin grinned, settling back into her seat. "From one person in the industry to another, that's all."

In the whirlwind that swept her up almost the second she walked out of Orynth International Airport, she nearly forgot about Lyria.

Until the agent with the sweet smile turned out to be just the woman she needed to save the unexpected catastrophe that threatened to ruin her whole entire show.

"He what?" Aelin all but shrieked, her pulse spiking as high as her stress level. "Go--fucking gods, NOW?"

"I'm so sorry, Ae!" On the other end of the phone, Lysandra was trying her absolute utmost to placate her dear friend. "Shit, I didn't know until the goddamn hospital called, saying Fen was out."

"Again. Fuck!" Aelin raked her hands through her loose hair, sending the shoulder-length golden blonde strands into disarray. "Fen's my core male model, Lys, what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Hold on a sec--" Somewhat muffled, Lys's voice barked orders at whoever was close by in the office, probably trying to find any of the understudies they might have. She was back a few tense minutes later, her voice tight. "Fuck, Ae, I'm so sorry."

"Just what I fucking needed," Aelin grouched. "Thank you, Lys, you're a superhero."

"I'll keep trying to find someone," Lys promised. "I just..."

"Hold on a sec, I've got a call incoming."

"K, call me back." Lys hung up.

Sighing heavily, Aelin accepted the incoming call. "Aelin Galathynius, what's your call?"

"Miss Galathynius?" Lyria's voice. "I really don't mean to intrude, not at all, but my agency just received a call from your office saying there was a last-minute gap in your model cast?"

All of a sudden, Aelin's head cleared. Or at least cleared enough to hear herself think. "Actually, yes, we do have a gap. Fenrys Moonbeam had an unexpected skiing accident yesterday and is unable to walk today."

Lyria cleared her throat. "Well, as it happens, we do have someone available here in Orynth." Rustling paper as she checked her file. "His name is...Rowan. Rowan Whitethorn."

Aelin's brows furrowed. "I'm not sure I've ever heard that name before, is he new?"

"New to major designer shows, yes," Lyria confirmed. "He's walked in smaller shows for a few years, done a lot of work for brands and magazines, mostly in menswear and cologne."

"Ah. Worlds I don't keep up with as much as I should." Aelin thought for a brief moment. What the hell, he's here and he's male and I need a male model right the hell now. "Lyria?"

"Yes?"

"Send him over. I'll give you the address; if he could be here as soon as humanly possible, that would be amazing."

"Of course!"

"Thank you so much," Aelin breathed. Then she rattled off the address and hung up, barely even noticing that Lyria was halfway through one last note.

"...Rowan's not much of a Yulemas person, though."

Chaos.

Everything was chaos.

And Aelin was very much part of the chaos, running from station to station, model to model, team to team, checking hair and makeup and the lineup and going over any last-minute notes she had. All while distracting herself from checking the door every three seconds to see if the model Lyria said she would send--Regan? Ronan? Roger? What was his damn name again?--had shown up.

She successfully distracted herself enough that an assistant had to tap her shoulder to inform her that a Rowan Whitethorn was here to fill in for Fenrys.

Rowan. Right. Aelin strode over to what would have ben Fen's dressing area, flicking through her folder of notes. "One hour to runway, people!" she called. "Whitethorn, was it?"

"That's me."

For what felt like eternity, Aelin froze, sweeping her eyes over the sight of six foot three of sheer perfection in front of her. Then she cleared her throat, extended her free hand like the businesswoman she was, and shook hands with the model. "Aelin Galathynius."

"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Rowan's handshake was as firm as the defined muscles carving every inch of his body.

"Don't ma'am me, it makes me feel ancient," she laughed. "Right. Fenrys Moonbeam was supposed to walk the core male position today but is currently incapable of walking. So. How much runway experience do you have, Mr. Whitethorn?"

"Rowan, please, and not much. I've done a lot more with campaign shoots, magazines and all that fun shit. I have walked in a few Fashion Weeks, but that's about it as far as major runway shows go."

"I see." Aelin scribbled a few things on her notes. "Well, something is always better than nothing." She nodded at the stylists and dressers, who went right to work with Rowan's appearance, tousling up his silvery hair--a unique color, Aelin observed. Casually observed.

Not like she was ogling the man.

"Good news," the dresser murmured to Aelin. "He's just about the same measurements as Fen."

"Finally, some good luck," Aelin muttered, half under her breath. "Great, let's see if we need any alterations done."

When the wardrobe people wheeled in the rack of outfits, Rowan's posture stiffened, his spine solidifying into steel. Aelin's keen glance didn't miss the shift. "Are you alright, Rowan?"

"Fine," he bit out.

"Rowan." She placed herself in front of him, folded her arms, and leveled a flat stare at the man. "Truth?"

He met her stare with one of his own, a current of wrath simmering beneath his flat glare. "A Yulemas collection?"

"I thought Ms. Frelau or whoever your agent is would have informed you of that." Aelin's brows knitted. "Didn't they?"

Rowan shook his head. "Nobody did. Just told me to get here ASAP."

"Damn industry," Aelin grumbled. "Yes. A Yulemas collection. My first solo clothing line, in fact."

"Congratulations," he returned, something resembling actual warmth in his tone.

"Thank you." She arched one brow. "Nothing I have for you is ostentatious, I promise. I'm not that kind of designer."

Thank the gods," he deadpanned. "One less godawful tinsel-tree contraption to haunt the stores."

"Oh, you're a funny one," she snarked right back. "I'm sure the audience will be entirely captivated by you regardless of the clothing, Whitethorn. In fact, I'm half-tempted to send you to the runway with just your skin and your sass; you'd charm the pants right off half the crowd at least."

His lips flattened, laughter forcibly pressed back. "Funny."

"I know." She winked. "Right, let's see the outfits."

Rowan Whitethorn was completely and utterly fucked. Had been since he walked into the Yulemas explosion of the Galathynius show's backstage area to realize that he'd been called into a huge blaring show of everything he couldn't stand. Had been even more fucked when he met Aelin Galathynius, the designer, and very quickly discovered that he would have to keep a constant sad-puppy image in his mind lest he walk onto the runway standing upright, as it were.

But this was a godsdamn Yulemas show. A Yulemas collection. A whole lineup of clothing that represented everything Rowan hated about the winter season.

How the hell was he going to make it through?

He had to admit Aelin was telling the truth--none of the clothes that were rapidly pulled on and off his body were terribly ostentatious. In fact, they were really rather tasteful and beautifully designed, even if almost everything was in a color palette of greens, reds, ivory, gold, silver, and white. Holiday colors.

Colors he refused to admit were actually quite well suited to him.

Aelin, though, spoke her mind freely. "Well, sign me the hell up," she smirked, appraising him with her glance.

Gods roast him, Rowan wished that glance was her hands. Or even better, her tongue. Not that he would ever do something as completely inappropriate as fantasize about a woman he hardly knew...right?

Aelin smacked her lips. "I was right about that gorgeous ass of yours, Whitethorn. Every lady in the audience is going to be having some wonderful dreams tonight, oh yes."

"Galathynius," Rowan groaned, tipping his head back and screwing his eyes shut in discomfort. "Why?"

She chuckled. "I have a penchant for teasing people when I'm stressed, so forgive me if I've said anything wrong."

"'S'fine," he mumbled, beyond thankful for the runway makeup hiding his violent blush.

"Good." And Aelin whisked out of his dressing room, calling out that there were only five minutes to showtime.

Hell.

Just like that, the nerves exploded in Rowan's stomach. He looked at himself in the mirror, stared at the deep-red, fitted trousers, the partially unbuttoned off-white shirt, the casually festive tie hanging loose around his neck, and he felt faintly sick. That tended to happen when he had to face the flashy glamor of Yulemas.

"You'll do wonderfully." Unexpected, Aelin's voice broke into his reverie.

He whirled around. "What?"

"You'll do just fine, Rowan," she repeated. "I know you will."

"Hope so," he muttered. "Goddamn Yulemas memories."

If Aelin heard--which she most likely did--she said nothing, just adjusted the artfully tousled fabric of his shirt and patted his shoulder. "Oh! We almost forgot." She grabbed something off the table behind Rowan. "Give me your hand."

A little confused, Rowan held out his left hand. Aelin swiftly looped a small strand of multicolored lights around his wrist--a holiday decoration. "Every model is wearing one of these bracelets," she explained. "It's the little thing that's going to run through the whole show."

"Oh." He rolled his wrist around a bit, getting used to the lights. And forcing away everything those Yulemas lights brought to mind. "I like the idea, it's a nice touch."

"Us designers have to have those nice little touches." Aelin eyed him once more, obviously satisfied for how she nodded. "Queue up, Whitethorn. And don't worry, the show will be over before you know it."

Aelin was right--the show did go by in a hazy blur, and before Rowan knew it, he was standing in the wings waiting for his signal, clad in his final outfit of the show. And of course, of fucking course, this last outfit would have been the one that most made him want to crawl into the ground and hide.

The suit (should he even call it that?) wasn't awful, just...green. Festive holiday green. And the suit jacket's lapels were embellished with shimmering silvery fabric. And there was a sprig of mistletoe, of all things, tucked into the breast pocket.

Oh, and he was conveniently shirtless.

It was far, far worse than the magazine shoot he'd had to do last Yulemas, where he was dressed in fitted red velvet pants, a very tight matching jacket, and a Santa hat and been subjected to three whole hours of giggling little jokes about Santa being caught looking like a whole snack. Whatever the hell that meant.

Jaw locked, he ignored yet another snicker from his left as someone else passed by and ogled him. He really didn't know why everyone seemed so obsessed with his shirtless-ness; for the gods' sake, being physically fit was part of his job description.

"Annoying, isn't it?" Aelin's voice unexpectedly sounded near his side.

"Awful," he muttered.

She snickered quietly. "Well, you only have to wear this for about ten more minutes, and then never again."

"Thank the gods," he grumbled. "No offense to you, of course, the designs are phenomenal."

"You flatter me." She flashed him a quick, genuine smile. "Wait--before you walk, I need to fix this." Rising onto her tiptoes, she quickly smoothed out the jacket and adjusted the mistletoe in his pocket.

Which oh so conveniently required that she teasingly pass it over his head.

"Look at that," she drawled, "guess we found the mistletoe. Pucker up, Whitethorn."

He didn't have time to choke out any response before her soft lips pecked his, barely there for half a second before she replaced the mistletoe, patted his shoulder, and giggled.

"You've got this, Whitethorn! Make me proud." And with that, she gave the signal, nudging him out onto the runway.

Rowan's brain completely stalled, his body moving on autopilot down the runway and back. She kissed me! his mind screamed, the thought incredible and overwhelming all at once. As that thought finally quieted, he realized something.

He wanted to kiss her properly.

Not that...not that he would ever kiss a woman he barely knew, much less the designer who'd hired him to model her collection.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Pull it together, Whitethorn! he yelled at himself. This is work, not a goddamn crappy Hallmark Yulemas film!

Along with all the other models, he waited backstage as the lights went down and the audience broke into waves of applause, calling for the designer. The lights rose back up and Aelin, after a few nudges from a brunette woman in a headset, walked out onto the runway, beaming and waving to the crowd's cheers. She walked back smiling giddily, an almost girlish expression that made her striking turquoise eyes light with gold. The models and the teams cheered just as loudly when they were all backstage, congratulating the young designer on a wildly successful first show.

"Stop it," she laughed. "I could never have done it without all of you, and you all know it. Congratulations, everyone!"

As she passed Rowan, he shook her hand. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," she beamed. "Couldn't have done it without you, Whitethorn. I'm dead serious." Then she winked, that gleam in her eyes going wicked. "Besides, who am I to resist seeing you shirtless?"

"Gods," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're bad, Galathynius."

"Oh, you have no idea," she purred, her voice dropping to a velvety purr.

Rowan was too stunned to form a coherent retort, especially when she threw him a smirking wink and a lazy, sensual grin as she walked away. Too stunned to retort for several moments, at least.

He was decidedly not stunned, however, when he returned to his dressing room to find Aelin perched on the stool, wearing a form-fitting golden dress of her own design, the glimmering material molding to her form like a glove, save for the deep slit running all the way up one leg.

"Ho ho ho, Merry Yulemas," she hummed, brazenly appraising his form with her molten gaze. "Lock the door behind you, darling."

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #12 days of rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #model and designer au #designer aelin #model rowan #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #enjoy #hehehehehe

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partyhorn · 3 months ago

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Curious Question, but that old version of Molly where they were more cartoony and didn't wear shirts at all, did you ever make a comic with that old version of them? Or did they only existed in just drawings before you would eventually go and make the comic we know today?

I did actually make an unpublished comic back in 2019/2020, but it was my first ever attempt at a long-form story-driven comic and admittedly was pretty sloppy (the pages were just loosely sketched+uncolored, and took me about 15 minutes each total). But funny enough the only reason I'd stopped that version of the story was because I'd made an unrelated one shot comic over that summer and realized how to have confidence in comics and not just loosely sketch them LOL.

That version of the story was a lot different, focusing on Molly going back in time to present-day Earth to live amongst the humans, and very much not fitting in. Molly and Jo had acted like their chapter 1 selves throughout it, so... you can probably imagine it. Molly was supposed to be a lot more easily fed-up with life, a lazy bum who probably would've fit in very well in a 90's cartoon (and didn't even wear pj's! For a chromodoris quadricolor, THE pajama slug, that's a crime). I still find myself pretty embarrassed by that first draft, but mostly just because it was my first serious comic attempt and I know I've improved tenfold since then LOL. It's a fun and goofy story, but definitely not a reflection of MFM now, it's honestly kind of the exact opposite tone-wise (if you've read up to the most recent chapters you can see the heavy tone shifting already). But in all honesty, I still have a soft spot for the drastically different original Molly and Jo, so maybe I'll revisit the concept one day... many many years from now when MFM is done that is, I don't feel like sharing it until then.

A few months before I'd started MFM as it is now back in early 2021, I also tried to work the idea into a short film. That also didn't pan out, and sadly all of the half-completed work I've done on those are gone on an old broken hard drive (well, maybe not "sadly". They were also embarrassingly bad as well LOL) But, trying to rework everything into a >5min short film with no voices had proved to be a good exercise in condensing plots, and it really helped me smooth out the rough edges and establish the basic plot and lore. So then when I decided to make everything into a comic again, everything went extremely well! I could go on more about my behind the scenes with this comic, but maybe in another post sometime... this is quite long LMAO

#qna

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lemontartca · 1 year ago

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Rum Update #3

Okay I did layers 2 and 3 of her faceup today and more... learning experiences, lol.

Layer 2 was kind of a disaster. First, I definitely did too much shading/contouring on layer 1. I also did too much MSC (it was my first time spraying it, I had no idea what I was doing), and my droplet/blotting incident made one side streaky and trying to blend it out only made the splotchiness from the rough texture worse. I really like how the eyeshadow I did came out, but trying to blend the splotchy side of the face made it obviously darker than the other and in the end I... gave up. I tried to erase it, which made the splotchiness worse to the point I went scorched earth and got acetone. That was very touch and go and honestly I still haven't decided if that was a good or bad call. I think neutral because it kind of wrapped back around to where it started, meaning it's no worse but still a time waste. Anyway I washed the whole side away twice trying to make it less splotchy and match the side I liked more. I decided to go ahead and seal in what I had eventually because I needed the MSC back to give the clean side tooth again before I could try to build it up.

That took me about an hour. I let that sit for half an hour before going in for layer 3, which took me about an hour and a half. That one went... better, although the left side of the face still has enough splotchy/streakiness that all the undoing kind of felt pointless, especially since it made her eyeshadow suffer on that side too and I really like how it looks on the "good" side.

I was getting nowhere with her yellow eyes on the orange vinyl until I remembered you can wet the watercolor pencils to get more color and that helped with payoff. Unfortunately, I don't have the reds and oranges I need to pull off my plan, and I'm honestly not sure how possible it is without paint, but I locked in my base colors and I plan to go back for one last layer fixing up the lips and brows (they're only loosely sketched in rn) and adding the highlights and details into the eyes as much as possible. She's also supposed to have a soft white stripe down the center of her face that I tried to do but really doesn't show up on camera so I'm trying to decide if I'm leaving that as is or going to try committing more to it.

Here she is right now. Behind her is my original plan for her faceup. Color is a little blown out from my lighting but she's coming out way better than I worried she might! I was afraid I'd be terrible at this and I think I'm just learning right now and it'll get way better with practice :) I'm planning to change the black stripe placement to cover up some of the stripey/splotchiness on her left cheek (you can't really see it head on, just from that side. Unfortunately my doll shelf is positioned so that's the side facing me in the room). I'll bust out paints for the stripes and probably - eventually - use them on the eyes too, I just don't have any right now. I was waiting to see how I liked this and if pencils were enough before spending more money but I'll definitely be doing more of these so it's worth it lol.

#custom: rum #wips #og

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iceclew · 4 months ago

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OH, HEY WORDS, LOOK ໒・ﻌ・७

@mechazushi

I…sorta was aware of it… that I put some pressure on you there.. sorry bout that. ppphhuuu my thoughs aren't sorted yet, and its hard to follow them myself yet, sorry…

let me start somewhere else.. I mean this quite serious, when I say thank you for this text of yours. no honestly, I said it before (in diff. context, but whatever), you somehow have your way with words that makes it simple understand and easy for me to follow on what you'd like to tell me… and while that might be smth people think it's normal anyway, it certainly isn't for me, lol..

I get what you mean and let me stress this out, I'm totally FINE with it. like, do whatever it is you'd like to do in your own pace <3

the dedication I have all of this fandom/community rooftopped like.. only sorta 2-3 months ago, and for me personally it's very typical to jump around maniacally and push buttons, not everybody is actually fond of. if been told this before … this has a lot to do with what I mention now and then as "hyperfocus".. and - since you mentioned it with your mom - "escapism" as well. I feel like I'm letting out all of my adult undiagnosed ADHD on society here, without a warning… (；⌣̀_⌣́) RL sometimes sorta strangles all of my movements and this makes me overhyping in places like this, where I feel sorta free to let it all out, and I tend to pull people in with me.. (i feel like drawing is the perfect example.. somehow I did like what.. 10-20 pieces of art in these 2-3 months...? Compared to this I had YEARS where I did....one sketch..in like 3-4 years, cause there was nothing in me that brought out the happy to embrace the biggest hobby I have in life....) I found myself in other situations where I restrained myself from blurrting out the stuff, and first of all, it's quite twisting me up, cause my brain can't let go of the thought and is spinning and cooking things up, that somehow end up very far from the reality in front of me, and just like that I feel disconnected on stuff/People/topics, I initially loved. And then I become the ghosting one.

I'm actually quite stressed everyday about how long I've left to enjoy all of this here.. Funnily enough - RL rolling around the corner, comes in only second place of my fears..I am mostly scared of loosing that hyperfocus.. those positive emotions I get out of it..? 'cause there's not much in life I feel emotionally attached to like that, and somehow I fear the day this will become one of the things I just used to care about. Even if it's bound to happen and that's ok honestly.. times will always change. hhah.. shit where was I going with this, this was not supposed to go self-pitying myself, cause there's no reason to,..I originally wanted you to understand my actions I guess..? words are hard for me ._.

WHERE WAS I GOING WITH THIS?! - oh I know… Long Story short, sometimes I just do/say stuff. it's irrational sometimes, but much better than keeping it for myself, where others can't even react to my thoughts.. which… you did and it's perfectly fine for me, how you feel about it and I can understand all of it :) *puts your face in a gordon ramsay sandwich but with love rather than anger* No. hard. Feelings. or. anything squishy friend, who is awesome with the wordies and does give me so fucking much feels with your work.. :3

And to be perfectly honest, i blanked out a lot of (important) factors, that would be sorta important.. :D like *waves from the other side of the planet* different timezones, and that people are simply living very VERY different lifes behind all of this, and you only see like a glimpse of theirself, and that's very much OK to not get into someone's everything. It's very tempting to forget that, when your go-to mutual topics are something abstract like Shows/series stuff, (but then again, thats the point of it isn't it? :D)

OK, much backround thoughts here as well. My pledges for you <3 :

DO NOT FEEL PRESSURED BY OUR STOOBID ASSES, STAY FUCKING AWESOME LIKE YOU ARE, AND WHENEVER YOU FEEL LIKE DOING SMTH ELSE, JUST KICK THE DOOR IN HONEY. WE CAN HANDLE :D OR YOU DON'T. THAT'S AWESOME TOO. WE LOVE WHAT YOU DO IN THIS COMM. ALREADY SO MUCH <3 do change stuff the way YOU like to have them. Online and in RL. :) And that's typically something you can't do in like, one or two days (personally it took me like 10 years to become someone I was sorta satisfied with, lol *waving granpa stick around*) But never stop trying getting there, that's the most important part :) *slides in b-side pages because this is About fandom lol*

OH YES... BE FUCKING SURE I'M KEEPING ON SIMPING ON YOUR SHIT ANYWAY, AS LONG AS YOU LET ME and we both feel comfortable about it :) and when the time comes we don't feel like that anymore, be sure I am thankful for everything about this, and despite this being a only fcking website, it meant the world to me, and I'll treasure those memories in my dragon hording brain forever hehe <3

Nothing serious, just a me thing. (I'm just stressing over bullshit, don't read too hard into this)

@bluevelvetea

@iceclew

Hey, sooo, um... I don't really know how to go about this so I'm just gonna say it.

Bluevelvetea has extended an invite to the Kn8 Discord server and Iceclew keeps saying that me and Her? should do a shared canvas thing? together and there's also someone on Ao3 that offered to make fanart for me and wanted to hit them up on Discord or somewhere else and....

I am very well aware that I haven't said anything about it, about saying that I'd love to or putting forth an effort to make that happen because...

I've... never had people to do that with. I've only had one irl friend so far and ever since i've graduated early and she went off to college, she's been ridiculously hard to get a hold of. She has shitty connection, she has a history of being broke so she has to sacrifice things on occasion, and she lets text pile up. I send her several texts over months and then when I DO finally catch her at a time where she can text me back, she'll drop at a random point in the conversation without telling me she left and I can't get a hold of her for another month. It doesn't help that she lets me do all the talking so I hardly know anything about her at this point.

My parents are next door neighbors and they come over often. I can't talk to my mom about things i'm into because she calls them "Irrational" and "Not useful" sometimes. I love talking about White and Nerdy things with my dad, but we can't really talk about the things we like in front of mom because she has this weird thing about hating listening to others talking and can't take it when me and dad talk about anime or a new reddit alien story he found. He can't catch up on things we both like because Mom gets on us for being on our phones too much and since he's around her more often than me, he just kinda stuck between gaming, helping mom around the house, or on his phone (He's out of a job right now because he's been in recovery from his second knee surgery, but mom wants the both of them to get jobs soon and for me to get a different one)

We love her, Its just she's a really big, "Gotta keep doing useful and important things" Kinda person? Not into sitting on asses and watching shows for too long. Really likes home improvement projects, does that make any sense? I can talk to her about things, but the only subject I feel like I can talk to her about are medical oddities or advancements, something her Scabble Go partners did, or how shitty it is that we're stuck in this town that we're in and can't do anything she considers fun, which is leaving state boarders and going ANYWHERE ELSE. She constantly wants greener pastures and the only thing that gets her to stop focusing on how monotonous her life feels is projects. Anything fanatical or imaginary she deems not worth the time and I feel like she judges others who enjoy that. I think the reason why her favorite genre of movies/shows is sci-fi is because it's escapeism crossing with potential realism. At the point in time where average citizens can escape their problems thanks to science and head to the stars, is where she would be happiest and that's the only thing she can get out of shows.

Anyway. the point is, I've never met people that wanted to talk to me about things I liked and gave me more options to express myself and my thoughts to others who might feel the same way. Being able to meet others who can do things I can't and being the person who inspired others to make something I can only literally dream of has been a kind of a bucket list item for me. I never thought I'd get to meet people who felt friendly enough with me on the internet to go out of their way to make art about something I've thought about without me having to pay for it or have chances to talk to others about something I've thought about and get responses about it back.

I definitely thought I would be on here for, like, another year or something before people would talk to me, let alone just... make something I spoke about into existence. Which is great, but it's also kinda scaring me a little. I'm one of those people that's afraid of change and I have a horrible habit of backpedaling to my comfort zone, even though it's supposed to be something that could be beneficial.

I'm probably blowing this way out of proportion than I should be, but not telling you guys about whether or not I want to join makes me feel like I'm unintentionally ghosting you on the subject and it's been eating me alive slightly. I feel like I've just been casually handed something I thought I had to earn and now that I have it, i'm chewing off my own hands over my own fear of the responsibility I think it comes with. I seek power only to cower from it once I have it. (anxiety sucks, doesn't it)

Another big thing is that I despise giving out my email. I hate dealing with it, I hate acknowledging that I have one, why does everything need to have my email just let me at the thing I want- *ahem* and apparently Discord falls under that. I've always wanted to have discord friends, it's was another shitty bucket list thing, I just never thought that I could be given the opportunity to do so and well.... you just read how I felt about that.

I've might have also given myself decision fatigue over "If I DID have Discord, where should I keep it?" I have a phone, I almost had to install the app anyway because I've been recently visiting a D&D group at a time where our Dm is having to telecommute at this point in time (We settled on a different solution and used someone else's appliance) But Mom is already on my ass about "Being on my phone too much" and "Its old, I should get it replaced" and "When are you going to do something different with you're life". And I don't know where or how to use this "Communal Live Canvas" Thing Iceclew's been asking me to try, but if it involves art, I draw better on my phone.

But If I put it on my laptop, where I keep my Tumblr access in, I can regulate how often I'm on the site. Mom doesn't know about my account (I think? She's seen the password for it but hasn't commented on why I have it? I'M NOT GOING TO TELL HER ABOUT IT. last thing I want to ever hear about is a lecture) But the decision cycles back around to "If I put it here, do I want to bite the bullet and sacrifice potential quality over how I could express my thoughts even though I have next to no artistic talent."

I guess I should go about this like a rational person and ask questions, but at this point I don't know If I'm just hunting for excuses to procrastinate.

I know this is hella long but I just thought I'd let you guys in on why haven't said anything on the subject and my head-space on why I'm like this, even thought this is probably just stupid and I'm overreacting and I don't want this to seem like a cry for help or anything. It's just that I'm so super thankful for meeting you two and how both of you really like listening to what I say and I'm just kinda overwhelmed at how easy this was. I honestly thought it would be harder to make friends online and I'm just reeling a little and in a kinda "Deer in headlights" mentality right now.

Blue, I'm very much aware that you said "No pressure" on the discord thing and I appreciate that, this is just how I am. I treat every minor decision like I'm the government, Taken six months too long with a shit ton of paperwork that could have just been settled as a gentleman's hand shake.

Ice, I really like the idea of working with you on something, but you might have to elaborate on how that works before I can feel okay enough to make a decision. I have a lot of irrational fears over things and exposing myself to new mechanics on the internet is one of them. I'm working on them, I just need Time and the universe hates it when I ask for it, that's all.

#how the fck do you tag this #feels?#but honestly this meant so much to me #mutuals bb #sorry for being the annoying loud shit I am tho #thank you for taking your time on this <3

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liztoady · 2 years ago

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Did some Kirby sketches again and the beginnings of an oc???? Like idfk what the hell they do or what they’re even supposed to be but I based them (VERY LOOSELY) offa Nova, so take that as you want lol

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mrpenguinpants · 4 years ago

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Genshin: University AU [V1]

I love modern au. Or any “everything is fine, no one died, it’s just a fever dream” au. Half of me is thinking, damn maybe I should answer this serious- LOL HAHA no. That’s not happening. Time to crack my knuckles and let my brainworms take over again.

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. I want to switch up my characters from the last brainworm post but I included Kaeya and Diluc.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to twistedwishes. Hey! I’ve been seeing you pop up a lot lately and thanks for the support 💕💕 I hope things are going better for you and you’re doing alright^^ I feel kinda bad for making appreciation posts on crack fics but hopefully this is somewhat funny haha.

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Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: Roommate [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@mikeysbike @hanniejji@unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @dandelily @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife @dokidokisama @simpygrimoire @minakohasmanyhusbandos @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki

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Diluc

Absolute pretty boy who has braincells, but only if Kaeya is not there. In his mind, Kaeya’s presence makes his room loose 40% of their common sense. He can’t prove it just yet but he’s working on it. He majors in accounting but also has a minor in marketing, logistics’ management, fia- he majors everything business related. He’s going to become the next Elon Musk through smarts or by getting the competition drunk. There can be no contest if he’s the only candidate. He’s actually a hard working guy that overworks and stresses way too much. You have daily “Diluc recharge” evenings where he just hangs onto you while you go through your day.

“Don’t fucking talk to me until I’ve had my coffee,” except there is no coffee - he drinks grape juice out of juice boxes and his only energy boost is when he meets up with you - and that’s his constant mood. So he usually only hangs around you and Jean, since she has childhood friend status and is actually an angel. By default, Lisa is added and Diluc doesn’t mind her but if he see’s Kaeya, it’s full on war paint mode. If he's not busy with work or studies, he's usually with you either in your dorm or his apartment.

He has a fanclub and he seriously hates it and tries to do everything in his power to get Ningguang to take it down. Shouldn’t this be against his rights? But she refuses for whatever reason and makes a whole speech about free will. No matter what he does, someone manages to take a picture and it get’s printed in the university’s newspaper. The only bonding time he has with Kaeya is every Monday, where they collect and burn all the universities newspapers before anyone can get their hands on it. You always bring marshmallows to make smores during their arson activities.

“When I graduate I’m going to burn this school down to the ground. That’s not a threat it’s a promise.”

Ningguang

Is secretly the leader of the Diluc fanclub - not that she likes Diluc, she’s in a questionable platonic poly marriage with you and Beidou - but it was the easiest way to gain funds for the student council. Which she is the president of, so rip Diluc the fanclub stays. Ruthless business woman I tell you. But she can run in heels so her danger factor rises by at least 20%.

Majors in social sciences and law but more specifically the political science & government. She saw the Imperial State Crown that the Queen of England wears and says yes, that’s mine now. If she’s not with Beidou and you planning on “how to infiltrate the state government just for lols”, then she’s with Keqing, Ganyu, and Zhongli discussing student council things. Should they or should they not tell the student body that they can see everyone’s search results? Sit back and relax as the school goes into chaos.

She’s probably the scariest person on campus No, she is the scariest person on campus. She’s the scariest person on campus. But secretly she’s popping 20 aspirins just to make it through a night. She has the digestive system of steel. She still holds the title of "seriously do not try and beat her in a drinking game it's never going to happen" and that's her proudest achievement in life but sadly she can’t put it on her resume. Kaeya is still trying to beat her out of spite but so far it hasn't been working. You’re seriously concerned for her when she get’s challenged but Beidou gives you a way-to-hard slap on the back and cheers her on. If Ninngguang somehow get’s alcohol poisonings she’ll somehow find away to make a profit out of it.

"I'll let him die, I'll get the insurance money."

Kaeya

One day he chugged too much mouth wash, passed out, and somehow woke up in university majoring in law. His idea is that if he is apart of the law, he can therefore stand above it. To be fair, his only goal in life is to say “I am the manager” and he can go live the rest of his life in bliss or as a hermit. He’s secret best friends with you but wouldn't be caught dead beside you. He will stab a bitch if you ever get hurt but will still trip you on the way home. Seriously, you have no idea why people find him attractive. Your guess is it’s the eye patch or the clap of his ass cheeks that keeps alerting everyone.

He’s apart of the newspaper club and if anyone asks: No, he has no idea who keeps taking all the newspapers and burns them in the back of the campus. Originally, he joined because he was nosy and needed to join some type of club for his resume. He sometimes feels bad for his junior assistant Amber because he keeps tricking her and says that Diluc is secretly a demon that is trying to steal all the jobs and is apart of the lizard government hell bent on eradicating the human race. He even brought out a whiteboard for this joke, he’s dedicated to his job ok?

The type of guy to try and be humble and say his work is “okay” but will choke a bitch if anyone agrees. He tends to leave everything last minute and says that it’s his drug since actual drugs could land you one year in prison and a maximum penalty of $2,000. You have to awkwardly hold in your concerned mother head shake when you see him speed running his assignment literally right when the professor is walking around to check if students finished.

“I was taught how to lead not to read.”

Mona

Broke wallet #2. Zhongli is broke wallet #1 but Childe simps for him so is he really a broke wallet at this point? In this essay, I Mona Megistus, will explain why I have the rights to the title “Broke Wallet #1″...

Believes that astrology should be an actual career path but refuses to take astronomy as her major. I can read the stars not a textbook that tells me how to calculate the mass of the sun divided by the fucks I give. Instead she went into Philosophy and cries to Albedo, who is an actual prodigy genius- sir lend some braincells to everyone else please?, that her professor keep turning her paper down because “star reading” is not an academic source.

Fischl wants her to join the occult club because, surprisingly, Mona is very good at telling people’s fates through her crayon sketch ouija board. She thinks first year Fischl is cute but is put off by the cosplay roleplay that she has going on. She would join except that stupid hat wearing gremlin in her lit class would make fun of her if he found out.

You gave her half your lunch one day and bought her a doughnut "because she seemed upset" and "out of the goodness of your heart" whatever the hell that means. She thinks you pensioned it but once that thought comes she takes a bite. Poison from a doughnut is not the worst way to go out, classes are hard enough. She’s waiting for the lord to strike her down anyways.

“Its not about passing, its about doing better than everyone else.”

Venti

Slept through most of highschool and people question how he got into university. He’s a music major (wow how fucking original is that), and if anyone asks him to serenade someone or just do anything, he’ll do it for the right price. Or if you buy him alcohol because he still keeps getting ID checked. He’s banking on Kaeya actually becoming a lawyer or being on good terms with Diluc so he can finally stop being arrested for looking like a toddler.

Takes one step into classes and quickly nopes out and goes back to bed. Professors have no idea how he hasn't dropped out or failed. He just has some god given talent. He does whine at you to pretty pretty please with a cherry on top tutor him because you're such an angel and would never leave your poor but awesome best friend hanging right? He needs to get this essay down but how he is suppose to explain how the number 10 is symbolic and connects to the universe or the meaning of life. Do you think he can just say it’s apart of his culture and make up some random myth to pretend it looks like he knows what he’s doing?

He’s honestly going with the flow and put his brain on the back burner all of highschool and only now realizes wait, I actually have to use my brain?

He’s been banned from most club chats since Venti has the no chill card. Someone says “lol I look ugly today.” and he’ll respond "yup, you look like a cow." and he get’s banned. Zhongli keeps a speed run timer on his phone just to document these occasions.

"Sad spelled backwards is das and das how it be sometimes."

Childe

An actual dumbass that somehow does well. He eats sandwiches with the crust off, this heathen. Surprisingly he’s studying to become a physical therapist but most of his experience has come from breaking his own bones. You’re scared how he's going to be if he actually becomes a therapist. If he'll make bets with his patients or try to one up whatever crazy injury they get into. Everything is a challenge to him that sometimes the best way to deal with Childe is to knock him out.

This man really knows the way to a Zhongli’s woman's heart. Through micro transactions. Mona saw him accidently drop $20 and just shrugged and walked off. She has never been both spiritually and physically offended in her life. She did take the $20 though. As much as you hate leeching on Chile when he’s basically a walking wallet that probably uses bills as tissue paper, you can’t help but give him puppy eyes while planning on how to get into his will. If he even plans on having one, he might honestly write “whoever wins in a gladiator style duel in my funeral’s tournament, they will get my fortune.”.

Any sport the university offers Childe is probably in it. Which is how he met Zhongli, challenged him to a fight, proceeded to have his ass handed to him, got a backhanded compliment, and screamed to you he was in love and how he found his soulmate. He's secretly very sappy and has cried and watched every Disney and Pixar movie at least 28 times.

"IM NOT TOO SPICY! I’M A TINY BIT ABOVE MILD IF ANYTHING!”

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God if it isn’t Scaramouche, it’s Childe that ruins the aesthetic. This is why I hate you. Why do you people enable me like this, it isn’t even good. This is pretty much a @ yourself moment and I vibe hard with Venti. This entire post was just to make a joke about the clap of Kaeya’s ass cheeks alerting the guards.

This week might slow down since I have classes and assignments. My reply’s are gonna be late too, sorry;; (oh and thank you to everyone that was so supportive and nice when I mentioned it. All of you. Beautiful 💕💕 )

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lemonpeter · 3 years ago

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My first fill for @peterparkerbingo : Teacher/teacher !

I’ve had a little bit of a writers block, so I’m sorry if this isn’t my best. But I enjoyed writing it and I hope y’all enjoy reading it! 💕 just a bit of spidershield

1.5K words

Warnings: unprofessional behavior between coworkers, fluff, I think that’s it lol

***

Mr. Parker was no stranger to the stares of others. Whether his students, or his coworkers, or even the parents of his students sometimes, he knew that he was watched.

It didn’t bother him in the slightest.

Which was why he agreed to model for Mr. Rogers’ class. And also because he loved being around the other teacher.

The art teacher from across the hall needed a model for his class to do figure drawing. And he’d come to Peter first.

His reasoning was that the teacher had a strong body from dancing for so many years. And that allowed him to stay in positions to be drawn for longer periods of time.

The reasons he didn’t list were that he wanted an excuse to stare at the gorgeous man for a couple hours without seeming weird. But he didn’t need to tell anyone that.

Peter walked into the classroom during his free block, a small smile tugging at his lips when he saw Steve. The other teacher had charcoal smudged on his cheek and forehead and didn’t seem to notice at all. Or maybe he didn’t care.

“Pete! I mean- Mr. Parker.” Steve cleared his throat, grinning a little. “Hey, thank you so much for doing this. You’re the best.”

The younger man waved his hand, laughing. “It’s no big deal, I didn’t have anything going on right now anyways. I’m happy to help.”

Steve nodded. He rubbed at his nose momentarily, effectively smearing another black streak across his face. “Okay, so, the kids will all be here in a couple minutes. You know how most of them wait right up until the bell.” He gave Peter a knowing look. “But you’ll just be right there in the center and I’ll position you once we’re all ready, okay?”

Peter nodded, smile reaching his eyes as he watched Steve. “Sounds perfect. Now, do you want some help cleaning up?”

The art teacher blinked at him, glancing around the room. “I think I’m good, my kids are usually pretty-“

Peter shook his head, brushing his thumb over the charcoal mark on his cheek. “Not the room. Your face. You’ve got a little….” He rubbed at the mark gently until it started coming off.

“Oh! Oh, I’m okay.” Steve’s cheeks colored and he stepped away from Peter’s touch. “Thank you, though. I’m just gonna get more on me, right?” He joked a little. “No point in cleaning yet.”

Peter smiled at him fondly, nodding. “Alright. That makes sense.”

Students began filing in, whispering to those around them as they eyed the other teacher in the room. It wasn’t like it was anything scandalous to walk in on, but everyone loved drama and the chance to start a rumor. It was the most fun part about school. And almost everyone believed that there was something between the two teachers already.

Steve cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention when the final bell rang and the last of his students trickled in. “Alright, I mentioned yesterday that we’d be working on sketching figures today. So Mr. Parker here was kind enough to be our volunteer figure. Isn’t that nice of him?”

A few weak “Thanks, Mr. Parker”s were mumbled, but almost everyone stayed focused on Steve and getting their supplies out of their bags.

“Okay, so-“ Steve made his way to where Peter was standing, mentally figuring out how he wanted him positioned. Then he reached out to move him before pausing. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Peter’s cheeks burned at the words when he heard the giggles from around the room in response, but nodded. “Of course.”

The art teacher’s hands gently guided Peter to where he wanted him, positioning him in a traditional ballet fourth position with one hand in front of him with the other gracefully held above his head. Peter moved his feet into position on his own when he understood.

“Do you think you can hold this position?” Steve asked softly, pulling his hands away to look at the younger man after he was finished.

“Of course.” Peter nodded, not moving at all. He knew that holding his arm up would get tiring eventually, but he didn’t want to ruin the picture. So he stayed as still as possible.

“Perfect. Thank you.” Steve smiled, going to his own seat and looking around at his students. “This is the position you’ll draw him in. You have all of class to complete your picture, it’s due by the bell.”

Everyone quickly got to work, eyes on Peter.

Steve started on his own sketch, an easy smile on his face as he started.

A recreation of Peter began to fill his page. Firm muscle on a slim body, his upper body hidden mostly beneath a loose blue tee. Dainty fingers holding position that lead into strong arms. Thick thighs that Steve wanted to feel wrapped around him that were clear in tight leggings. A soft bulge that the man had to be sure he didn’t pay too much attention to.

His sketch became clearer as time went on, as he was sure to capture every single detail of the man he admired from across the hall.

Just as he finished the gentle smile that curved at Peter’s lips with a stroke of his pencil, the bell broke through his blissful trance.

Steve blinked as he looked up, seeing his students packing up and Peter relaxing from his pose. “Oh, leave your papers at the table by the door. Make sure you signed your name on them,” he called before too many could get out the door.

Peter’s fingers gently massaged at his stiff arm as he relaxed, not noticing the other teacher approaching him again.

“I hope you’re not too sore.” Steve spoke up, his sketch held between his fingers. “I’m sorry if the position I picked was too…demanding. I just figured it would look nice.”

“No, it’s alright,” Peter assured him. “I’m a tough guy, I can take it,” he joked. His eyes landed on the drawing hanging at Steve’s side in his hand and nodded towards it. “I saw you were pretty focused over there. Can I see it?”

The teacher looked at the paper like he’d forgotten it was there and then back at the other man. “Oh- uh, yeah. Sure.” He held the sketch out nervously.

The dance teacher took it with a smile, eyes scanning over the drawing as he took in every detail.

He was quiet for a moment. Two moments. Long enough to make Steve worried that he did something wrong. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not-“

“Shh,” Peter scolded, not looking away from the page in his hand. “You’re ruining the moment.”

Steve shut his mouth again, watching him. Ruining the moment? What was that supposed to mean?

After a few more seconds, Peter finally looked up. “I’m not sure who exactly that is that you drew. He can’t be me,” he said confidently.

“What?” The picture looked exactly like him. Steve may have been a little rusty, but it was definitely Peter.

“Nope, can’t be. Because whoever that is is gorgeous.” The dance teacher grinned at him, the expression a little goofy. “Steve, you’re incredible.”

Steve finally relaxed again, laughing a little. “Oh. Thanks, I don’t know about incredible, but thank you.”

Peter went to hand the paper back, looking up at him when he was stopped. “It’s yours.”

“No, I want you to have it. Please.”

The dancer smiled more, nodding. “Thank you.” Then he paused, going to grab a scrap piece of paper and a pencil.

Steve watched him curiously, chuckling at how he was furiously scribbling on the paper. “Okay?”

“Shh, I’m creating.”

After about a minute of frantic doodling, Peter confidently held up the paper and handed it over.

Steve raised an eyebrow, laughing loudly as he saw the drawing. He just couldn’t help himself. “Why am I a triangle? With just a circle for a head?”

Peter pouted a little before laughing with him. “We can’t all be artists. But that’s not the important part.”

Steve looked lower on the paper, brows furrowing when he saw a number. “I already have your extension. And you’re across the hall. Why would I need-“

“That’s my cell number, Steve.” Peter started to walk to the door. So he wouldn’t be stuck there if he was rejected. “Feel free to call. For anything.”

“Your cell…why?”

Peter sighed, leaning against the doorway. “I want you to call me, Stevie. Clear enough for you?” He bit the inside of his cheek before blurting out his comment. “Maybe you could do some more figure drawing of me. Just not as professional.”

He rushed to leave after what he said, face flushed in embarrassment. What the hell was that?

Steve watched him go, eyes squinted as students for his next class filed in. “Not as professional…what does- oh my god, does that mean naked?”

His classroom fell completely silent and he wished that he could take his words back. He’d forgotten that they could hear every word.

One brave soul decided to speak up after the silence continued. “I say go for it.”

#spidershield #my writing #peter parker #steve rogers #steve x peter #steve rogers x peter parker #dance teacher!Peter #art teacher!steve #peterparkerbingo2021 #if there are any insane obvious editing mistakes let me know #other than that just ignore them lol I’m tired and am proud for even getting this much written

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n7punk · 1 year ago

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(vote before reading, and reblog the version without this to avoid influencing lol) okay my opinion:

In interviews/on twitter, Nate said two important things related to this. First, the crew slipped in that mention of the next ball being Scorpia's there, implying that was them telling the fandom "hey here's a fanfiction prompt!" and then setting us loose. So that part is kind of canon, but it seems like the host of the ball just rotates (or is maybe voted on), so even Adora in canon could have known Scorpia's turn was coming, or it could be a reflection of Adora's desire for unity and she then proposes it later when princess prom does come around again. It also could just be a logical conclusion that Scorpia would host this time because again, unity.

However, Nate also said the dress Adora wears represents vulnerability. To me, that implies it is not the Literal Dress she is wearing in the Literal Future, but rather a manifestation of her inner feelings, thus making the entire scene a manifestation by extension.

There's also the fact that a vision of the future would have to come from somewhere and I don't think the Crystal Castle or She-ra is capable of foresight.

Basically, I don't think it's an actual moment in time that will come to pass. I think it's supposed to be what Adora always wanted - the four of them together, friends, living a peaceful life with parties rather than war - but that she was always too afraid to consider because she never thought she would have a future. Seeing it might shape some of her future actions, but I don't think that exact moment will ever play out - directly before the ball, anyway. I can totally see Glimmer chasing Catra down with a brush even the day after the war and giving Adora deja vu.

Of course, Nate drew that art of princess prom where they wear the same outfits. Maybe his version includes them picking out the exact same thing to actualize that vision - or maybe he just didn't want to design something new for it. Despite my interpretation, I do think it would seem kind of contradictory to canon on the surface if he had drawn them in something else. Them wearing the same outfits doesn't automatically make it a vision of the future, because Adora could have just sketched them out for a tailor or something as a way of reclaiming her vision/future, thus the outfits being a result of the vision and not something that would exist without it. Or the art itself could be nonliteral and just a general representation of the event, meaning details like their outfits don't matter. I think you can draw them in anything for the next prom and it still makes sense.

Honestly, it being time travel would lessen its impact to me. That scene (again, to me) is Adora finally accepting and embracing the fact that she wants to live, she wants anything, and she wants Catra. That scene is so important for Adora's growth. She finally accepts that she wants to be more than a sacrifice. Making it just be a flash forward and her realizing "oh, that's a future i want to see" feels less meaningful to me than closing her eyes and finally letting herself picture the dream she pushed down because she thought she would die in the war. It's something more visceral and raw if it's a manifestation of her desires with all the small implications that comes with (stuff like Catra wearing her pin because Adora wants to marry her, Adora's hair being down and Catra wearing shoes because they don't have to fight/be ready anymore, Adora accepting She-ra as a part of herself by wearing her colors rather than a duty she has to carry out at the expense of herself, etc). That's just me, though.

TLDR; my version is it was just a "dream" and the scene won't ever play out, but it will affect some of Adora's choices going forward.

Now here's a question: was Horde Prime actually in there and saw it, or was she just hallucinating that part?

hang on i've got something i've always wondered

i'd love to hear your reasoning/elaborations in the tags

#self rb #i always knew there were some people who thought it was an actual vision of the future by im surprised by how many lol #the horde prime thing tho.... really depends on how you took the mara vision ig #like i dont know how he would be in there unless it was the crystal castle with catra completely unaware and he hacked in #but somehow i just always assumed he was really there #my gut says its real despite Logic XD

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palbabor-writes · 4 years ago

Note

I know you said you only might accept pregnancy requests depending on what it is so I wanted to try 😅 how about shigaraki and reader break up while she’s unknowingly pregnant with his child and he bumps into said child years later and connects the dots that it’s his? If you don’t like it feel free to ignore this request 😊

I liked this nonnie.

I am terrified that by saying that I’m going to be inundated with pregnancy HC’s, lol. But, this request I really leaned into. Plus, it’s more about a kid than a pregnancy.

So, thank you for asking and letting me slip out of my comfort zone. It’s always good to do that every once in awhile and this ask was a great reminder of that.

It’s a bit melancholic, but I think it fits with Tomura, at least, in my mind.

Now, this is not in canon. This is not like, pre-war arc, or post-war arc. If anything, it’s more of an AU. I’d put Tomura in his late 20s to early 30s.

warnings: none really, just some sweet, sweet interactions and mild angst

Hestia Hestia, in Greek religion, is the goddess of the hearth, a daughter of Cronus and Rhea, and one of the 12 Olympian deities. When the gods Apollo and Poseidon became suitors for her hand, she swore to remain a maiden forever, and Zeus, the king of the gods, bestowed upon her the honor of presiding over all sacrifices.

The shouting noise of children set his teeth on edge.

Toga had insisted that the bus stop by the school was the best place for the information exchange.

They won’t look for you there, she’d assured him. It’s like hiding in plain sight. Yeah, it’s patrolled, but it’s only an old security guard who does the rounds. Besides, he’s retired from the police force, she qualified, and was more like a lazy cat than an attentive scent hound.

It’s the best place, really.

So, Shigaraki had made the long trek across Tokyo.

He kept to the shadows as he weaved his way through back alleys and streets. Although the dominance of the League had waned some over the years, he was still a wanted criminal, responsible for countless death and threats on hero society.

He was still the King of his slice of the underworld.

Besides, he reassured himself as he loitered by the bench under the bus stop, he could trust Toga.

She had improved in leaps and bounds as she came of age; deadlier, sleeker, more attuned to the ebbs and flows of the world around her. She wasn’t that girl who chattered about blood anymore.

Oh, she still held a strange fascination with the fluid. But she had more control over those impulses that drove her. If she said it was the best place, well, who was he to argue? Toga had been with him from the beginning, a vital ally. Hell, at this point she was close to being a friend.

Shigaraki is still musing when the ball taps its way to his feet.

It clatters against the pavement; the rubber shuttling it along the loose rocks and leaves. Unthinkingly, Shigaraki lifts his shoe to balance against its unbound movement, stilling its lulling bounces.

Must be from that schoolyard, he thinks, his red eyes flashing up at the low chain-link fence that separates the school grounds from the busy street.

There’s no child dashing their way to retrieve it, so he lets his gaze slip from the teeming masses of giggling youngsters. It’s a pretty blue. The ball looks new. Hardly a scuffed and battered thing.

He keeps it under his sole, toying with it, rolling it meditatively as he slips back into his thoughts.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

It’s a small voice that calls to him and he turns his head back to the fence, looking for the source.

It’s a girl.

She’s leaning against the metal, her hands clutching into the links, cocking her head inquisitively at him.

Her nose wrinkles at his silence, and she shouts another demand.

“Mister, that’s my ball. Toss it back.”

“Aren’t you supposed to say please?” Shigaraki taunts, his lips lifting in a quick grin. He’s not sure why he’s bothering to engage with this kid, but something about her plucky attitude resonates with him.

She leans away from the fence, that scowl deepening on her soft features.

“Aren’t grown ups not supposed to steal things?”

He laughs at her snark. He can’t help it. Oh, this kid’s fun.

Carefully slipping the ball into his hands, he moves closer to the fence. He can see her a little better now.

She’s still got that deep frown on her face and her dark hair is gleaming in the afternoon sun, some strands catching the light, reflecting a deep, auburn, hue. He’s just about to chuck the ball to her when he catches sight of her eyes.

They’re red.

Not that red eyes are unusual. There are plenty of people milling around Tokyo with them. But hers are different.

No, these eyes are like looking into a mirror for Shigaraki. They flint and glare with the same sheen as his own. It’s a prefect reflection.

His feet suddenly feel heavy, leaden, and he can’t lift his arms. Who is this child? Why does she-

“Ok, ok, mister. Can I please have my ball back? You’re still stealing it if you don’t, so I’m not apologizing for that. I might... if you give it back to me, cuz’ it’s my ball, not yours. And, stealing makes you a thief.”

She’s rolling those uncanny irises at his stiff form, and a huffing sigh escapes her small mouth.

“What’s your name?” Shigaraki asks, hands trembling over the rubber of the ball.

“Not supposed to tell that to strangers, mister.”

He smiles again, bemused. Well, he thinks begrudgingly, she’s a clever little thing. Whoever she is.

A sharp bell echoes across the yard and she turns her head at the sound, her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders.

“Here,” Shigaraki relents, gently flipping the ball over the fence, bouncing it to her feet.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, quickly snatching up her prize. Those red eyes of hers meet his own, and he can feel a low shiver echo up his spine. What’s up with this reaction? It almost feels visceral, like some sort of otherworldly pull on him.

“Sorry I called you a thief,” she apologizes, quickly bowing her head, ducking those eerie eyes from view.

He’s not sure what to say, so he continues to watch her. She doesn’t seem perturbed by this, opting to giggle at him as her little head lifts.

“You’re weird,” she assess, a smile finally spreading over her lips, her cheeks rounding and softening.

Tch, she’s rude, but she’s also cute, Shigaraki thinks, snorting at her frankness.

She turns, dashing away from him, her dark hair flowing around her back as she goes.

Shigaraki shakes his head, trying to dislodge those lingering questions that keep floating to the back of his mind.

He’ll never see her again, he reasons, wandering back to the bus stop. Trying to tamp down the urge to look for her again, to pinpoint her from the other giggling and shouting children on the playground.

But he did see her again.

He comes back to the stop a few weeks later.

There’s no information pickup this time. There’s no real reason for him to even be on this side of town.

He just can’t get her out of his mind.

This little kid had shaken something within his psyche. He kept dreaming about her. Well, not her, really. No, there was someone else haunting his dreams.

He hasn’t thought about you in years.

But now? Now, he can’t get you out of his head. He even feels like he can feel you some nights, warm against his side. He sulks in the memories of the familiar touches that the two of you shared, the love that you’d pressed into him, so, so long ago.

He saw the girl in those moments. Resting in your arms as you looked up, your eyes bright against her dark head. The girl would laugh and run to him, those reflective red eyes shining with mirth.

It was fucking strange.

He both hated, and loved, the repetitive nature of these illusions. They made him feel safe and warm, but they also chilled him to his very bones. It was unsettling.

Unsure what else to do, he’d back come to the bus stop.

It’s early afternoon. Close to the time he’d visited it before. He waits on the lonely bench, his hands pressed together and that strange tremble races through his veins.

This is stupid, he thinks, his eyes lowering from the sea of kids, all twisting and turning in a heap as they play. It’s an impossibility, really. The chances of that girl losing her ball again is minuscule. There’s no way he can call to her either. It’s a waste. He shouldn’t even be here.

He’s standing to leave, when that small voice reaches him.

“Oh! You’re back.”

His head whips around, his long white hair glowing against the sunlight.

There she is.

She’s gripping the fence again, and she’s staring right at him.

Shigaraki smiles. It’s a gentle lift and he can feel his heart tapping a rough tattoo against his ribs. He steps toward her, kneeling when he gets close, careful to not overstep his bounds.

He’s not wanting to startle her.

No, he’s wanting to talk with her. Maybe she’ll drop some kinda clue why he’s so drawn to her. Or maybe she’ll morph into any other child again. Plain, uninteresting. Slipping from that odd ghost that she’s become to his subconscious.

He hopes it’s the latter. But part of him also longs for it to be the former.

She’ll hop to the fence around 3:15.

She looks for him now, used to the routine of his presence.

He told her to call him Tomura, and the name falling from her lips made his heart ache.

Tomura stopped by on Fridays. Careful to not stay too long, to not draw too much attention to himself.

At first, he’d sneak her little trinkets.

A little plastic toy of his, one that he had since he was a kid. She’d squealed with delight and clutched it to her. He’d grinned at that, remembering how he’d once held onto the thick plastic himself.

Once, he’d just plucked a nearby flower as he walked to the school, presenting it to her outreached grasp. He’d watched proudly as she tucked it behind her ear, the color glossy beside her hair.

She’s still a sassy little thing. But she’s softened a little, too. Her voice losing that early, untrusting, edge.

He didn’t ask her much. Sometimes they both just sat in silence as she sketched designs into the dirt. Sometimes he would listen to her chatter about her day. Her classmates, her teacher. Once, she’d even pressed something over the fence to him.

It was a drawing.

He’s not sure if it really was all that well done, or if it’s just his heavy bias toward her. But he loves the mix of color and lines. He’d asked who the people were.

One was her friend, Kenji. One was her teacher. One was him.

He’d pinned it to the wall in his room. Displaying it, flaunting the gift. He looked at it every morning, admiring her work.

He’s late one day, and she scolds him, her small arms draping over the fence.

“I didn’t think you were going to come,” she chatters, her red eyes lingering against his, the two colors casting back the same hue.

“Was running behind,” Tomura replies, leaning against the low concrete barrier, resting his back against the fence.

Her little hands reach for his hair, playing with the pearlescent tendrils, weaving some into knots and braids.

He doesn’t mind.

“Hey, Tomura,” she says, working a tiny hairband into her creation, her voice curious.

“Hmm,” he hums, careful to not shift his head, not wanting to disrupt her hard work.

“You didn’t ask my name again. At least… not after that one day.”

“Do you want me to ask?” He queries, his pulse lifting.

He’d wanted to ask her again, but he didn’t want to startle her, to shatter these innocences that they shared.

“It’s Beryl,” she answers. She says it confidently, and he turns to face her.

She grins at him, wiggling one loose tooth playfully at his serious expression, trying to tug a laugh from him.

“Beryl?” he repeats, unable to keep that awed hush from his raspy tones. It’s a pretty name. It suits her, really. But it’s strange. It’s not Japanese.

You hadn’t been Japanese.

“That’s a good name,” he assures her. “But, it’s not… you don’t hear that name very often.”

“Yeah,” Beryl concedes, her vermillion eyes roving over his face. “My mom’s not from here.”

His nostrils flare at that.

He hasn’t asked her about her mother. He’s unsure if it’s a general disinterest on his part, or trepidation. He fears it’s the latter.

Gulping, he tilts his head at her, feeling that soft braid she’s plaited into his hair shifting.

“Who’s your mother?”

“Who is she? She’s my mom, silly.”

“No,” he pauses, ignoring that creeping tremor that’s working its way to the top of his skull, his skin prickling and cooling. “I mean…what’s her name?”

“Oh! Her name is-”

“Beryl! Beryl, it’s time to come inside.” A teacher is calling for her.

Tomura startles away, drifting to his feet and pacing quickly back to the bus stop. He can’t help the snarl that etches its way across his lips. He’d been so close. So fucking close…

He chances a glance back at the fence and catches sight of Beryl. She’s dashing across the playground, her dark hair waving in the sun.

Japan is about to slip into summer. School will come to a close, moving into a long break. He won’t see her again for almost a month.

His heart sinks at that realization and he grits his teeth. Slipping his hands into his dark trench coat, he steps across the street, away from the bus stop, away from the little girl that’s feeling more and more like his own.

Edit: oh hey. so, i couldn’t stfu about this and created a sequel: Materfamilias

hahaha & part iii

#asks #answered asks #on kiddos #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura x reader #tomura x y/n #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x reader #tenko shimura #drabble #pal muses

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