#and you can see when I changed how I draw them
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cardinal concept
yandere platonic batfam with a resurrected reader
a/n: because as much as i love neglected reader, dead (then alive again) reader just has so much potential
the dynamic duo, batman and robin. bruce wayne and dick grayson. then, you came along; a result of bruce’s irresponsible coupling with a young woman he’d long since forgotten about. you grow up in the nastier parts of gotham with your mother, where you’re forces to grow up faster and become more mature, until she has an accident.
after you’re mother’s untimely death, you find yourself under his care. bruce is hesitant and unsure, he’s already struggled with raising dick. he doesn’t want to fail you too. he dances around telling about batman until you happen upon the batcave, at your insistence and a few instances of you following them, he relents and lets you join.
suddenly, it’s batman, robin, and cardinal.
bruce is initially unsure what to do with you, even after you become cardinal. unlike with dick, who needed to become robin lest he go down a darker road, you’re only cardinal because of him. it draws out an agonizing guilt, causing bruce to practically coddle you. but you’re emotionally intelligent, in a way bruce isn’t, you’re able to communicate with soft words and gentle reasoning instead of shouting matches and tearful pouting like your brother. you’re his angel, his sweet, understanding angel. it reminds him of his own mother. you’re kind, empathetic disposition is everything bruce needs in his life. because yes, to him, your brother needs his guidance. but bruce needs yours.
as for dick his relationship is with you as simple as this: he’s the big brother and you’re the little sibling. you can fight and argue, but you two always make up and head off to snuggle or play. you’re bond grows stronger the more time you spend on patrol— having each other’s back, getting into trouble with batman— or at school— although you’re in a younger grade, you still see your big brother at school and go to him when you have problems— or at home— snuggled up, watching a movie and eating snacks provided by alfred— you two are extremely close.
you’re little of family of four— including alfred, of course— is tight-knit. you fight and argue but always make up and you’re always there for each other.
until dick becomes nightwing and a scruffy teen named jason todd joins you. as close as you are with your older brother and father, you bond with him far quicker. maybe it’s because of how close you are in age, or maybe it’s because of your shared past experiences.
the family dynamics shift and change, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. dick grows more distant, going off with the titans. but that’s to be expected, he’s grown up now. you still visit him, of course. and he still pops by to see you. bruce, you notice, softens, almost. he’s grown accustomed to parenthood. jason is your favourite change, though. a sibling close in age, but still younger, so can justify (playfully) bossing him around. your family isn’t perfect, but it’s yours and you love it.
then, jason and bruce start fighting. dick goes off world. a fight with bane leaves you injured and out of commission. it’s just a rough patch, you tell yourself. until, suddenly, jason’s birth mother contacts him. something’s off about it. you want to tell your dad, however, jason is adamant you shouldn’t. reluctantly, you don’t, opting to go along with him just in case.
your gut, as it turns out, was right. you’re injured and unable to do much as the joker captures you and jason. you’re helpless to watch as your brother, your sweet baby brother, is beaten mercilessly with a crowbar. your voice is hoarse from screaming during your own beating and your body is sore, but despite it all, you still rasp out pleas to let your brother go. one child will be effective enough. the joker can spare one. of course, in his cruelty, he doesn’t.
you’re left aching, battered, and bruised. the ticking of the bomb serves as the count to your death. jason, brave jason, tries to gather enough strength to get up. and maybe, just maybe, he could escape if he weren’t focused on trying to save you. he won’t listen to your pleas for him to go, to leave you behind. he’s adamant upon accompanying you to your doom.
you hear the final ticks. with all the strength you have left, you move towards him. you cannot save yourself. you cannot save him. all you can do is die beside him. pressing your forehead to his, the last thing you see is your little brother’s face before the final tick sounds and the ensuing explosion consumes you.
and that’s the end of it, your journey, your life. you’re buried alongside your brother in a sombre ceremony, your uniform cased in glass as a memorial to bruce’s failures. he becomes angrier, loses himself. he’s lost two of his children and is fighting with his only remaining one. dick, is utterly furious, with himself and bruce. he blames bruce. for letting his precious siblings die, for starting them all of this heroic crusade. he blames himself for not being there, for being distant with you and jason.
alas, time marches forwards and batman needs a new robin, in the form of one tim drake. he’s a clever kid, one way too smart for his own good. one you used to babysit while his rich parents were away to earn some extra cash. it wasn’t right, leaving him with no one his age to play with. so, when you could, you’d come over. you’d soothe his loneliness. and for that, he’s forever grateful.
your influence continues beyond your death. for you life has impacted so many. barbara gordan, for example, who viewed you akin to a little sister. who fought alongside you as batgirl. you were loved by many as (Y/N) Wayne. your friends and family still hold candles for you. even as they accept your lose, they never stop fully grieving for you and the lost potential brimming inside you. then, there are those who you impacted as cardinal. as a hero, you saved numerous lives, including that of one stephanie brown, who will forever feel indebted to you and strives to become just like you.
the justice league, who knew you as one of the first sidekicks, who functioned like extended family, mourn deeply for your loss and offer sympathies to your father and brother. they will remember you and your tenacity, carrying on their pursuit of justice with you in mind. certainly villains, such as poison ivy and even harley quinn, are enraged with the joker. while you could occasionally be a pain, you were their favourite kiddie hero. and of course the likes of selina kyle and talia al ghul, your father’s paramours, women who became like family to you.
cardinal will be forever immortalized in the hearts of heroes and villains alike, your legacy of compassion and kindness living on in memories transformed into stories, your death a testament to sacrifice and love and heroism— except, that isn’t how it ends, is it? no. your story doesn’t end with your death, it’s how it begins.
and your real story begins by waking in the constricting confined of your casket, bursting out with inhuman strength, fueled by the adrenaline boost, and digging your way out of your grave, the cool mud giving way to harsh ground until you break through the service. that night, that stormy gotham eve, is the day you are reborn.
you flee then wander the streets of gotham until you regain your mind. you remember, you remember everything and you, you don’t want to go back. not to your family, not to your friends, not the life you once knew. you were given a new life. and this life, you would live for yourself.
sans your old attachments, you live encumbered, untroubled by past woes. yet, you seem to forget your festering memory, the mark you’ve left on people. you forget that while you may be willing to leave your old life behind, they aren’t as willing to let you go. especially when they learn you’re within reach.
#platonic yandere#yandere platonic#yandere batfam#yandere drabble#yandere imagine#yandere x reader#yandere batman#yandere dc#yandere batboys#yandere batboys x reader#yandere jason todd#yandere jason todd x reader#yandere dick grayson#yandere dick grayson x reader#yandere bruce wayne#yandere bruce wayne x reader#yandere nightwing#yandere red hood#yandere robin#yandere damian wayne#yandere tim drake
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S/I OR OC ASKS AND ANSWERS
1. Avril's pronouns are they/she
2. She is definitely an ideal(ish) version of myself, she has tempered virtues and the experience that I don't. Still, she has a staggeringly different past.
3. The flow of the backstory is fully grasped, but the stuff around (world building and such) is not yet 100% complete.
4. Avril was impressed at this knight since Reinhard is super glazed lmao. How they feel about them now (let's set the time at arc 5 cause s3, hehe) is that she will do her utmost best to repay Reinhard for accepting her past. Very much so...
5. It's rarely I speak in first person, I actually do try to give the stuff distance as I don't see it as exactly me. So mostly, Avril is referred to 3rd person.
6. For the story, it was mostly additions. Unless you count the fact that at the very start, it was me imagining what if I was in the world of Re:Zero and I was the candidates instead (horrible thing, but ig imagine a middle aged woman getting it) So that eventually changed into Avril and having a tragic past.
For the design, there is a prototype version as that look was too copied or too similar to Velvet(Tales of Berseria). Eventually the design is now something unique and comfortable with.
7. 3 Random Facts:
-> Avril likes romance a lot-- okay, maybe it's because she got saved late so this is what happened. But still, she does love a good romance story. (A hidden longing huh....)
-> Avril likes to journal her thoughts, a tactic taught to her so she can better manage her mind
-> As a connoisseur of everything, Avril likes pretty much a lot of stuff. Though you can say she does lean to more humble and earthly stuff. Like she yearns for foraged and wild foods (she is gonna cook that, dw). Though when it comes to the clothing department, Avril prefers clothes that still look good (or clothes that make her feel good about herself but not being a slave to trends)
8. List of Abilities (let's do general POWERS):
-> Magic (proficient in drawing magic circles and symbols)
-> Proficient in swords, martial arts, lance/glaive (other weapons too, but has more experience with those listed above)
-> Can use skills off from merged spirits
9. Yes, them fantasy hobbies and such, ha.
10. I actually like making one s/i(oc) for each f/o or a series. Although there is an author persona too, I use the s/i oc for each f/o
11. I love designing clothes, so Avril definitely gonna have different fits~
12. Here ya go:
13. Yeah, the main battle outfit design is rather simple and still looking good so I would not mind at all.
14. Not exactly, she trusts Reinhard very much.
15. No? I haven't gotten to that yet.
Forgive me for being such a slouch everyone!!!
Happy New Year 🎉 (as of now, still not yet, but so soon-- and Reinhard's bday is about to be here!!!)
♡ S/I Ask Meme ♡
Some s/i asks so people can get to know your s/i because I don't rlly see those often & I have some ideas
What is your s/i's name & pronouns?
How similar is your s/i to you? Are they a carbon copy, completely different or a mix of the two?
Does your s/i have a full backstory yet? Or is it still in the works? If it's done can we see it?
How did your s/i feel when they first met your f/o(s)? How do they feel about them now?
Do you speak about your s/i in first or third person?
Has your s/i undergone any design/story changes since they were first made?
Give us 3 random facts abt your s/i!
Does your s/i have any kind of powers?
Does your s/i have any hobbies that you don't have?
How many s/i's do you have? Do you use the same s/i for multiple f/os or make completely different ones?
Does you s/i have one outfit they're always seen in or multiple?
Can we see a picture of your s/i?
Would you ever want to cosplay as your s/i?
Does your s/i get jealous easily?
Does your s/i interact with any other self shippers s/i's?
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 !
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ! “can i request christmas headcanons about fred? with a reader who isn’t exactly the christmas type but how can you resist lovely christmas at the burrow?” thank you to the lovely anon who requested this <3
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ! how can you resist lovely christmas at the burrow?
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! no warnings, fluff, gn!reader, established relationship!
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 !
🥥 partner!reader who doesn’t care for christmas because your family never made it a big deal
🥥 bf!fred who invites you to spend the holidays at the burrow because he’s convinced that one christmas with his family will change your mind
🥥 naturally, you’re assigned a room to sleep in when you arrive ( but everyone knows you’re gonna end up in fred’s room anyway )
🥥 you help the weasleys decorate the burrow and end up surprising both fred and yourself with how much you enjoy it
🥥 you get addicted to molly’s hot chocolate almost immediately after the first sip
🥥 ginny helps you brainstorm gift ideas for her family ( because merlin knows what fred and george have whipped up for them )
🥥 molly constantly catches fred trying to get you under the mistletoe
🥥 you somehow land yourself in a christmas trivia feud with charlie ( it ends in a draw )
🥥 every time fred catches you enjoying a christmas activity, he smirks at you all smug and mouths ‘i told you so’ ( to which you just roll your eyes )
🥥 you and ginny gossip in her room while you wait for molly and arthur to fall asleep so you can sneak into the twins’ room
🥥 you spend a good five minutes laughing at the twins when they come back inside from de-gnoming the garden looking like they’d just wrestled a hippogriff ( you take a picture too, of course )
🥥 when the weasleys go out to play quidditch in the orchard, you stay back to help molly with the cooking and the dishes
🥥 you try eggnog for the first time with arthur and end up drinking four cups…
🥥 you cuddle up with fred on the couch while you and the rest of the weasleys listen to celestina warbeck on christmas eve
🥥 when it’s time to open presents, your boyfriend’s family are all pleasantly surprised by the accuracy of your gifts ( thank you, ginny )
🥥 you gift ginny a basket of wizarding skin care and makeup products to experiment with
🥥 you get ron a gift box from honeydukes, filled with his favourites like chocolate frogs, bertie bott’s every-flavour beans, pepper imps, etc.
🥥 george gets a quidditch kit that you charmed to be gryffindor themed and a new striped jumper
🥥 percy receives a nameplate for his desk at the ministry
🥥 you give charlie a new backpack and a journal for his travels
🥥 you gift bill a book on interesting muggle artifacts…with a second copy in french ( wink, wink )
🥥 molly gets a new magical cookbook
🥥 arthur gets the latest edition of the guinness book of world records ( courtesy of a very fascinating conversation with hermione earlier that year )
🥥 fred gets the same jumper as george but in a different colour, a scrapbook you made filled with all the photos you’ve captured over your relationship, a box of his favorite candies, and a framed version of the photo of him and george post de-gnoming
🥥 you’re glad everyone likes your gifts right up until fred goes off and mouths that damn ‘i told you so’ yet again
🥥 but when you open one of your presents and see a knitted jumper with your initial on it, you’re finally ready to admit to yourself that maybe christmas isn’t so bad after all
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 !
𝐤𝐞𝐲 ! fred, you, other people
🐚 “who would dare put a mistletoe up at the burrow!?” “i just watched you conjure it, freddie.”
🐚 “fred weasley, if you don’t leave them alone this instant!” “mum, i swear the mistletoe put itself up!” ( no it didnt )
🐚 “new gift idea, let’s snog.”
🐚 “awfully good gifter for someone who hates christmas, love.” “don’t start, freddie.”
🐚 “who helped you with the gifts?” “i knew it couldn’t have been you!”
🐚 “why would you get this picture framed!?” “because it’s funny…duh!”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 !
𝐤𝐞𝐲 ! you, fred, other people
🫧 “yeah, yeah, i know…you told me so.”
🫧 “gin, you mind helping me figure out what to get your family for christmas?” “of course! who else were you gonna go to? fred?”
🫧 “you totally cheated, charlie!” “did not!” “did too!” “rematch, same time next year.” “you’re on.”
🫧 “arthur, you must tell me where you get your eggnog from…”
🫧 “apologies if the jumper is a bit loose, dearie! i had to guess the size.” “it’s perfect, molly…thank you.”
🫧 “alright, i guess christmas isn’t that bad…” “i told you sooo.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! a bit past christmas, but at least its still december, right? i hope you lovelies enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
©clesired - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
xoxo,
mila! *: ・🐚༄🫧*ੈ✩
#clesired#clesiredwrites#clesiredheadcanons#clesiredfredweasley#harry potter#harry potter headcanon#harry potter headcanons#harry potter golden era#harry potter golden era headcanon#harry potter golden era headcanons#fred weasley#fred weasley headcanon#fred weasley headcanons#fred weasley x reader
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Reading Material
This was not a request, sorry, but I have been a bit overwhelmed lately, so will not post as much as usual. Anyways, this story is based on the thought of Josh finding out about the sexy smutty book you're reading, and basically how he would react. Hope you like it!
Word count: 1,1k (unedited)
I open the book, resuming on the page I left off. Luckily for me, the cover of it is quite discrete. At the same time, the sex-scenes weren’t many. The book overall is interesting, and has a good plot, but those types of scenes last for at least two chapters in one sitting, so I have to be careful when I read them. Who knows who might be peeking. The only person who usually does is Ashley, but she’s in another room with Chris and Matt, talking about some series or movie she recently watched.
I make myself comfortable on the sofa, knees coming up, tightly pressed together. The page turns, tension building up as the main characters get into it once again. My eyes are glued to the ink, failing to see the shadow behind me. I take it all in, imagining it in my head as they do their thing. What kind of position is that? I turn a page back, trying to make sense of it. One leg there, arms around his torso. Before I can understand it all, a hand comes down, taking a firm grip on the top of the book, snatching it out of my fingers. I yelp at the suddenness, turning quickly while trying to grab it back.
“Hey!”
“What do we have here?”
Josh takes a few steps back as I stand up and walk around the furniture. He smiles, turning back a few pages to see the start. I run at him, but he easily dodges my attempt, using one of his hands to push me away.
“I swear to God, Josh, give it back!”
“Never knew you had such porn-fantasies”
“You looked when there was that type of chapter, it’s a good book”
“Hold up, things just got interesting” he continues, a smirk plastered on his lips as his eyes roll over the lines. I try one more time to snatch it back, but fail again. He starts running to the hallway, and I sigh loudly as I follow. This man will not go tell the others, I’ll make sure of that.
“Don’t you dare!” I yell, turning the corner in the dark room. As I do, an arm captures me. He slams me against the wall, grabbing both of my wrists in one hand, holding them over my head.
“I’m not done reading” he teases, eyes capturing mine before going back to the open book. I wiggle, hoping to get out of his grasp. Just as I’m about to make it, his fingers tightens, body pushing mine into the wall, using his legs and upper body strength.
“Josh, I will literally kill you!” He laughs, gaze going over my form beneath him.
“Sure you will, oh and look at that” he continues, tongue going over his lips.
“What?”
“We’re in the exact same position as those in your little fantasy”
I can help the blush that spreads on my cheeks, face heating up as he draws himself closer. The other guys are two rooms away, talking loudly and unaware of the situation I’ve put myself in. I feel my breathing get uneven and heavy, chest rising and falling rapidly in response to him. He does the same, the smirk gone and replaced by a small surprised expression. Mouth slightly open, hot air being blown onto my face. I gaze into his eyes, lids low as he shifts his stare from my eyes to my lips, and then up to my eyes again. I can only describe it as a silent request, a question about the next part. I give a small nod, and he comes closer, noses brushing against each other.
Before I can comprehend what’s happening, he changes positions. He turns us around, making him go against the wall with my back against his chest. I gasp, feeling the pressure on my wrists as he holds them tightly to my side, his muscular arm trapping me on him. Face buries itself in my hair, mouth making its way to my ear. He lifts the book in front of me, forcing my face forward to look at the page.
“Read this passage out loud” he whispers, lips touching my ear. His fingers graze over the text, guiding me to the relevant sentences. I take a breath, sinking into him, head leaning back on his shoulder. He smells like oranges and bark, a comforting combination.
“Come on, do it” he teases, using his head to move mine to the side. He starts kissing down my neck, small kisses and bites, not hurting. I look down on the text again, reading every word out loud between gasps of air from how he’s working on me.
“I crave your tender touches, I want to feel all of you on top of me as I explore every part of your body with my mouth” I whisper. He lets go of my wrists, letting both my arms fall to the side. I don’t move away from him, but instead let his hand wander up my stomach, settling on one of my breasts.
“Now read the next line”
I look down again, his thumb caressing the paper, still holding the book firm.
“I want you to fuck me like you mean it”
He groans in my ear, chest heaving against my back, moving my body as well.
“What the hell is going on here?” Matt asks, and we both jump away from one another. I look up embarrassingly, while Josh just stares with his mouth wide open.
“What are you doing?”
I’m about to stutter a reply, but Josh beats me to it, putting on his jokester-face and waving the book.
“Just some light reading”
“Really?”
Matt comes closer, snatching the book from his hands. My instincts get the better of me and I yell out a loud “no” while trying to get it back. He holds the book high while reading, one hand holding me back.
“Damn, this is some nasty stuff y'all”
Josh looks down, tomato-red blush covering his cheeks. I keep persisting, wanting to get the book back. Bad enough that two of my friends saw this today.
“Guys! You’ll not believe what I found these two horny fuckers reading together!” he yells to the other room, starting to make his way there. Josh and I give each other a look. This cannot be happening. We scream out protests, and Matt turns around in shock, starting to run when he sees us coming. This is not just a game anymore, we need to get that book back.
#until dawn#joshua washington#josh washington#josh washington x reader#josh washington x reader smut#until dawn josh#josh washington until dawn#josh washington imagines#josh washington smut#joshua washington x reader#joshua washington smut#joshua washington x reader smut#until dawn x reader#until dawn josh x reader#rami malek x reader#rami malek#until dawn oneshot#until dawn fanfics#until dawn fic
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Midnight
Din Djarin x f!reader
Rating: E
A/N: Happy New Year’s Eve! ❤️ Thank you for being so kind and patient with me this year — it’s been a long one, but this place has made it all the more tolerable. This has been a WIP since 2021 (!!) and it was so wild to brush it off and compare how much my writing has changed since then — thank you for sticking around, for being so supportive and for being a part of this community. I appreciate you all and hope you all have a great 2025! 🎉🎊🍾
—
9PM
The kitchen is already packed.
It’s been an hour since you arrived to the greeting of your coworkers broad smile, getting her for all of two minutes before you promptly lost her again. You’d seen pieces of her since, shimmers of her silver dress in between the crowd of bodies: her arm extended to hand someone a drink, her hip pressed against the counter to refill a chip bowl, her bright laugh above the din of conversation.
The beer in your hand had started out cold, but now borders on luke warm as you take a tentative sip. You grimace at the flavor, yet hold onto it, if only for something to do with your hands.
“Why are you drinking that?”
She appears in front of you, at last, the only person you know here. Pulling a face at the bottle in your hand, she lifts her eyebrow. “You don’t drink beer. Couldn’t find anything better at the bar?”
“I didn’t even see a bar,” you reply, standing on your toes to look around the room. All you see are shoulders and heads, a sea of pointed hats with shiny poms of tinsel on top.
She rolls her eyes with a smile, plucking the beer from your grip to take your hand in hers.
“Over here,” she leads, tugging you towards the living room.
Turning your body sideways to get through the crowd, you grin when the bar comes into sight.
The cart is an art-deco elaborate thing, mirrored and gilded. You remember her shopping for it online at the office, hiding the screen whenever your manager would walk by. Its beauty is hidden underneath a crowd of bottles, just as tight as the people in her apartment, and she twists and turns them, searching.
Lifting one up, she offers something else with a familiar smile. “Gin?”
You grin. “Yes please.”
–
10PM
One heavy handed gin and tonic later, you’re feeling much better about the situation.
You haven’t seen your friend in awhile, but that’s okay – your other coworkers have arrived.
“Okay but why is it such a personal thing?” you ask, tipping your cup to slip an ice cube into your mouth. “I know which one is yours – the one with Snoopy on it – and it’s not like it would be wrong if I took it, but it would feel wrong, you know?”
Your coworker nods earnestly. “Coffee cups in the office are weird thing, man. They aren’t labeled, but like…you just know.”
He shuffles forward for someone to pass by him, and you back up to make room, your back pressing against the stranger behind you. They are a solid wall of heat, and before you can turn and apologize, the ringing shout of more people being welcomed draws your attention in the direction of the kitchen door. Your friend appears under the archway a second later, leading a train of people through the crowd and as everyone parts to make room, the person behind you reaches back, placing their hand on your hip. Their hold pushes you lightly towards the wall, out of the way.
Looking down, you see a man’s hand – thick fingers, a broad palm and when you turn around, you find the owner.
Jesus Christ.
He’s fucking gorgeous. Tilting your chin up to start with the dark mop of his curls, you hungrily take in the rest of his face: a strong nose, plush lips, jaw covered in scruff. Easily the most handsome person you’ve ever seen, you’re frozen in place, and his neat mustache twitches with amusement.
“Hey,” he greets you, turning to fully face you. “Sorry,” he gestures to your hip with a flick of his eyes. “Didn’t want you to get run over.”
Those eyes. Those fucking eyes. Beautiful and brown, rich and dark – with creases that fan out when he smiles. He waits you out, and you wonder if he’s used to your reaction, or if his silence means he’s just as enamored as you with what he sees.
You hope it’s the latter, though you’re sure it’s the former.
“It’s okay,” you breathe, and he grins, a dimple appearing in his cheek.
A fucking dimple? Are you kidding?
“Din,” he says, pointing towards himself with the neck of his beer bottle. When you give him your name, you don’t miss the way his eyes slip down the length of your body and crawl back up. So open and blatant with his expression, it’s almost as if he doesn’t think you can see it.
Or maybe he knows you can, but doesn’t care.
Giddiness pools in your chest, and he gestures for your glass.
“Can I get you another?” he asks over the noise of the party.
“Sure.”
You grin, and he mirrors it.
–
11pm
How can someone be this good at charades?
It’s uncanny, his ability to convey so much with gestures alone. You wonder if maybe it has something to do with his confidence, or the graceful, commanding movement of his body. It’s like you’ve been able to read his mind and he yours, the two of you synced up after forty minutes in each other’s presence. He says nothing, and still, you understand every time.
His face is so subtly expressive, that’s what you think makes it. Or maybe it’s his hands, – large, capable looking things that he seems so deft with.
They’ve been touching you since you met — a firm pressure on the small of your back to guide you through rooms, a circle around your wrist when you were almost separated. A curved hold on your hip when you signed him up for charades, a gentle brush of his fingers when he slipped the strap of your dress into place after a round.
He comes back from the bar, two water bottles in hand and his weight drops on the couch next to you, his thigh pressing tight against your own.
The cushion forces you to lean into the bulk of his body and turning your head to the side, you whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “We’re killing them.”
The divot below his ear holds the best scent – heady and masculine, warm in the best way – and he smiles, returning a whisper of his own.
“I know.”
His boyish grin is deceptive, hiding how competitive he’s been this entire game, a trait that you find yourself liking. Not boastful like most guys, but more like he brims with a quiet confidence. Like he’s just sure of himself, his commanding presence drawing you in.
The other team starts, their shouts fading into the background as his eyes drop down to your mouth. You wait with bated breath for the flirty line that most men would deliver at this moment – but none comes. Instead, he stays silent, letting his eyes do all the talking.
They roam over your features, blatant and bold in their quest. His smile falters, slipping into something with more intent and the warmth held in his eyes simmers to turn into something darker, hungrier. Your mouth waters in anticipation, your tongue gliding over your bottom lip, and you watch as he follows its path.
His hand rests on top of your knee, encompassing it within his warm hold. The touch sparks a line of want that zips up the inside of your thigh to the damp crotch of your undies, a beat pulsing between your legs. It curls behind your belly button, pooling between your hips – a sticky slick ache that makes you press your thighs together.
The corner of his lips tug upwards as if he knows.
A chorus of groans declares you winners and he squeezes your knee in victory, his eyes still on yours.
11:59pm
“FIVE! FOUR!”
The cheer of the guests counting down is deafening, and you wince at the sound even while shouting yourself. Din’s arm drapes around your shoulders, the weight of it keeping you tucked along his side as he protects you from being crushed.
“THREE! TWO!”
Lifting your drink into the air, you grin up at him when he does the same. Couples around the room turn to each other, and you tip your chin upwards, your cheek fitting into the crook of his shoulder. He looks down at you, his arm tightening in its hold and it’s like a magnet pulling your mouths towards each other, anticipation building to a breaking point.
“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”
The room explodes in cheers and shouts, and he leans down to meet your mouth with his.
It’s a firm, sure kiss; his lips softly molding to yours. You savor it, pushing up on your toes to prolong it and when you pull back, you notice micro-expressions flit over his face: his eyes brightening before darkening with want, his lips pursing like he’s already missing the press of yours. He bends to kiss you again, and when his lips part yours to deepen the kiss, sparks burst and skitter through your limbs like the fireworks exploding outside. You lean into it, throwing your arms around his neck, your fingers threading into the curls at his nape and the strength and surety of his hold lifts you upwards, your toes skimming the floor, the wood underneath pulsing with the party.
No one notices when you slip from the room, or when he takes a bottle of champagne from a table as you pass it. No one notices when you climb the stairs, or when you slip into the last door on the right. Lost in their own celebration, the tune of Auld Lang Syne follows you down the hallway, the joyous melody muffled when he shuts the door behind you.
“I thought maybe we could celebrate in here. Alone.” His voice is so much richer without the noise of the party competing against it, and the boldness of the statement makes you flush with heat.
He takes a swig of champagne straight from the bottle and hands it to you, smiling when you do the same. The bubbles dance and burst on your tongue, similar to the feeling in your stomach when he pulls you in for a kiss. The flavor of the champagne is on his tongue, his mouth moving with intent and the music in the other room shifts to a heavier bass beat when he guides you backwards, his smile felt against your mouth.
You hit the bed with a breathless laugh, the weight of his knee dipping the mattress when he crawls up over you and though you have felt the heat of him next to you all night, it’s nothing like how it feels when he settles his body on top of yours.
His mouth immediately meets yours and his hands are everywhere, grasping anything he can reach: sliding from his hold on your nape to caress the round of your bare shoulder. Slipping the strap of your dress down as his touch skates downward, palming the weight of your breast. You arch into his touch, your whine muffled by his hungry mouth and his hips rock forward into yours. Your thighs widen, your skirt falling up around your hips, and his hand continues its way south, curling around the plump curve of your hip with a squeeze. His thumb picks at the band of your panties, and you squirm, forcing contact between the heft hidden underneath his fly and the soaked, delicate fabric that covers your core.
He’s hard – so hard, so thick with promise – and his mouth finds the hollow of your throat, smearing over the line of your collarbone before moving down to the swell of your breasts. You tug the collar of your dress down, an action that makes him stop – but only for a moment.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, husky and low, the words of reverence rumbling from his chest. Then he’s surging forward, cupping the weight of your tit in his hand, his mouth closing around the peak. The shock of warm wetness and suction when he pushes more of it into his mouth has you moaning shamelessly underneath him, your back arching to encourage the dull scrape of his teeth over your nipple.
You push him back, your hands fumbling with the hem of his shirt, and he sits up on his knees, reaching back to tug it off. He tosses it onto the floor, immediately draping his body back over yours. Your dress and bra tugged down around your waist, the weight and warmth of his firm chest against yours is delicious and heady as he continues to kiss you drunk.
Just as sure and competent as he was in the other room, he wedges his hand between your bodies and finds your clit with the pads of his thick fingers, rubbing it until you soak the crotch of your underwear with need. He can feel it, the sodden fabric slipping under his touch and he breaks your kiss, bringing his hand up to his mouth. His lips wrap around his fingers, a deep, satisfied groan pouring from his throat while you watch from underneath him, your jaw slack with want.
Your intense need for him snaps, your pussy clenching as you watch him suck and you frantically fumble with his belt buckle, working it open. Your hand trembles as he helps you, his mouth capturing yours in another consuming, frantic kiss that has him eating at your mouth and when you pull him out together, your breathing hitches in your throat at the heft that smacks against your inner thigh.
You try to look down, his broad chest blocking the view and it’s almost better that you can’t see it. There is something about the anticipation of it, the touch without the sight. You feel his hand wrap around the base of his cock, working to notch it at your entrance and when he breaks you open on the thick tip, you hold your breath, savoring it.
“Fuck,” you breathe, your jaw clenching. Aching for it ever since you turned to face him in the kitchen, the filling weight of his cock is overwhelming, your body being forced to make room for it. The snug, slick fit has you whining underneath him, begging him for something he’s already giving you.
“You feel so good,” you moan, and he gives you a smug look in return. His expression is laced with pride, his eyes hooded with arousal, his hips pushing forward until he’s in all the way down to the base.
“So do you,” he breathes just over your mouth, and you pull him in for a kiss, needing his lips on yours.
Expecting a fast fuck squirreled away in a bedroom that belongs to someone else, what you don’t expect is how intense it feels. His cock is a relentless, filling stroke that claims, his mouth breaking contact only when he wants to watch: his dark eyes trailing over your open mouth, your bouncing tits, your pleading expression.
And then he’s back on you again, filling you deeper, harder.
Your fingers weave into his sweat damp curls, keeping him close. The muscles in his torso shift against your own, highlighting the hidden strength held in them. His thighs spread for purchase, forcing yours open wider and his hand grasps handfuls of your bottom and of your hip to keep you in place underneath him. Knowing you have to be somewhat quiet, you drink each other’s moans.
You hear another couple stumble down the hallway – a thud against the wall followed by a loud laugh. The door knob jiggles and his hand clamps over your mouth just as a throaty moan breaks free. You whine into the humid curl of his fingers, and when the people outside jiggle the doorknob again, Din picks up his pace.
He fucks you: the weighted press of his body paired with the weighted press of his hold has you forced to take it, and when the couple outside moves on with a loud laugh to find their own private bedroom, he slips his hand off your mouth, fisting the bedding next to your head instead.
“Sorry,” he pants. “Didn’t want them to hear you.” His mouth rests next to your ear, his scruff tickling the delicate skin of your neck. “Those sounds are mine,” he breathes.
The sweet sentiment paired with the filthy confession flings you over the edge of your release, your body curling around his as a means to ground you. You want it all: the sweaty press of his bare skin, the softness of his curls, the humid press of his mouth. He fucks you right through it, restraint etched into his jaw.
“I want you…,” you start, your voice syrupy and slow, still quaking with aftershocks. “I want you to come.”
“I’m going to,” he warns, his elbows resting on either side of your face, his hand curling around the crown of your head. His lips brush against the apple of your cheek, dot the tip of your nose and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck and breathes in, his hips never ceasing. “You’re so wet. You’re so fucking wet, I’m gonna come.”
His voice has your eyes closing tight, his breathless pants for air making you pulse around his cock. The sounds he’s making are filthy – the filthiest coming right as he does.
He pulls out, but just barely – his hips slam against yours a couple of times: deep strokes that have you keening on his cock and just as his body tenses up with a deep groan that rumbles his chest against yours, his hips snap back, slick smearing from his cock along the inside of your thigh as he spends himself along the soft skin. Bracing himself on your hip, he closes his eyes tight and you take in the way he looks above you: desperate, beautiful. Hot spurts of his release pool on your skin, on the fine hair that dusts your pussy, and on the sheets underneath you – which has you wondering, for the first time, who’s room this is.
His pulse thrums underneath his tanned skin, and you ignore that line of thought, instead tipping your chin up to capture the beat in a kiss.
You hear him smile, and feel his body relax on top of yours. He hums with contentment, and finds your mouth with his own, pulling you into a deep, sated kiss.
“Happy New Year,” he breathes into your mouth. There is a beat of silence, his face shifting to nuzzle between your breasts. He kisses whatever skin he can reach, as if he’s starved for touch.
Guiding his face to yours, you nip at his bottom lip, loving the way it makes him smile against your mouth.
“Happy New Year.”
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Hi! I know you tend to draw the trio (Sparkplug, Soundblaster, and Nightflyer) together often but man I want them to be friends!!! Or rather I want Nightflyer and Soundblaster to have the sibling dynamic where they're very protective of eachother bc they're the only ones who can fight each other. (But that doesn't make sense.) I get sad when I remember they aren't best buds.
But also in my head there's like this huge venndiagram of stuff they can all bond over. NF and SP see ghosts (predaking and Optimus) and have high expectations as the next Gen of faction leadership (if for Sparkplug, symbolically since the autobots dont have a monarchy situation) SP and SB were experimental creations. Unnatural freaks of nature that shouldn't exist but also like, they just like rock and roll cd man. SB and NF feel like complete opposites but to me they are brothers. But that can't go on the venn diagram.
Actually wait- this ask is getting super long. Sorry about that. But consider it a personal letter of sorts! I love your oc's I think about them all the time. Sparkplug especially. Adrienne lencker plays in my head bc of the angst. I love seeing the stuff that you post even tho I have no idea what the plot is like (I mean I do. But Idk what nf and sb are doing in the future. But could you imagine how they would react if they found out sp joined the djd? Not only that but killed tarn!? I mean, you probably can, but I can't)
But yeah. Maybe not post this one to the public to see (please. I just think ur stuff is cool and wanted you to know that and also like, my thoughts about your characters a little bit but I wrote too much. Id feel embarrassed if other ppl saw)
Awww thank you! Actually, SB and NF have something in common… music. I know I show off Night’s science lover tendencies more often, however he is a huge fan of earth music and is a fantastic dancer. He absolutely dose not understand the deeper meanings of wordplay or melodies, he just wants to dance.
SB on the other hand, dose understand all of that. He loves smart wordplay in songs and changing bridges. It was Nightflyer who introduced him to music in the first place! At the very least they have that.
And don’t worry, by the end of the story, they’ll be closer than ever (romantically! They will kiss)
#digital art#drawing#artists on tumblr#transformers idw#transformers#transformers au#transformers oc#art asks#ask box#ask blog#asks#ask#tf nightflyer#Nightflyer#soundblaster#tf Soundblaster
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How do you get your siffrins to look adult? I keep accidentally giving them a baby face but I WANT THEM TO LOOK GROWN AND EXHAUSTED LIKE HE DESERVES
okay so i legit think i fail at making siffrin look adequately adult like half the time but here's a general breakdown of my like. thought process when im actually um. thinking .
So first of all heres my general tips for proportioning a face, and how i attempt to keep the roundness of sif's in-game proportions while also like... drawing them more realistically? i had to practically reinvent a Human Style for drawing isat fanart since im a furry artist so a lot of this is fresh in my mind, luckily(?) for you i suppose.
This newness also means you can like, watch me fight and struggle against how the hell to do this in my earlier fanart. so feel free to try and see what changed as i pieced it together.
Another note is body proportion. You note giving him a baby face specifically, but some of it MIGHT be that you're drawing the head too big for your style? Try and figure out how many "heads tall" your figures are and tweak the numbers until you find what looks "adult"
Here I cracked open one of the comics I used CSP Model refrences for (albeit feat Loop, who i envision to be the exact same height as siffrin. i am NOT a tall loop truther i think its funnier when that bitch is five foot NOTHING!!!!!)
drawing sif with adult proportions can be deceptively difficult though on account of their Being A Tiny Motherfucker. Mostly here though, I find that the best way to do this is to drop like 1/3rd of the length of an average drawing figure's legs. Short people tend to have short legs. I know this on account of a lot of my ocs being 5'3" and below (... for... reasons...... unrelated to my own... height.... 100%.... ) so once again I think a lot of this can come down to trying to fiddle with numbers and noting down what works.
OKAY NOW ONTO SOME MORE SIFFRIN-SPECIFIC DRAWING TIPS. like these are what i find myself doing to make them look older if i accidentally baby face them myself
The above kind of chibi-er doodle style im still not sure has Siffrin looking adult enough for my liking (someone who considers them minimum 28) but considering they're presumably genuinely a deceptively baby faced guy at least by game's start (even if they should probably look. unhealthy.) it's like... forgivable.
the bald spot is basically fucking cheating in terms of "making them look older" lbr but i am so fucking insistent on it and i punch the air in celebration every time i see anyone else do it. winner is ME!!!!
Anyway. the body hair thing is funny considering we basically have Word Of God that siffrin is not the kind of person who ever likes being naked/even having their feet out in a casual setting. but like. hi its me the weird fucked up miserable nudity guy. of course im drawing every pockmark and texture on their body.
Another note here is, on their naked form, I avoid overly smooth lines for outlines of the limbs and torso. This avoids making them look "sexy twink thin" (not my bag at all) and instead gives the impression of loose skin from fluctuating weight, uneven fat distribution, skin becoming baggier with age. I also let joints jut out and look sharp wherever I can. This is because im an asexual pervert who likes the human form the mostest when i can see 'imperfections' This adds to the haggard nature of it all, by being reasonably honest about what the kind of persistent decade-long neglect of self care and implied malnutrition would do to a guy
Last note: eyes. i find i end up drawing a vague glassy black smear with a hint of white for the sclera for siffrin like. a Lot. Eyebags to show weariness is not my preferred method as I find it, to be rude, a bit of an overused shorthand. Plus, while sif in game does get eyebags, they're usually more on pushed expressions where they're forcing their face. So I put more emphasis on drawing the folds of the upper lid (which the game does not do) to make them look weary.
I dont think i can elaborate on my opinions on How To Draw Eyes without it becoming a way the fuck too long essay because "drawing emotions good" is like. my number 1 goal in every drawing so even if everything else is scuffed to hell I HAVE TOOO get the eyes right because theyre the most emotive part of the face. if i cant capture an emotion correctly the drawing isnt getting fucking finished is the thing, so....
Luckily for me, drawing over eyes and continously tweaking them by painting over and over and over and redoing them can have the side effect of making them look over-detailed and thus worn/tired/agonised. yes this is why i draw loop's face so scrunched all the time. All I can say for this though is to do a lot of studies of both real life faces & the most emotive cartoon faces you personally have experienced. So like. steven universe is great for this because rebecca sugar is so scary at drawing eyes. theyre so fucking scary at it. or sometimes i just go stare at rebecca's old comics because jesus christ. anyway.
??? but yeah hope this helps. its something i feel like i have a genuine hard time with too, especially since im so intent on keeping their face round & my artstyle is genuinely very cutesy even when i am being weird soo ...?
tl;dr:
draw the eyes smaller, give them a chin, the canon nose helps a lot & dont forget the bald spot. everyone draw the bald spot. for me.
#???? HOPE THIS HELPS IVE NO IDEA WHAT IM DOING BESTIEEEE. imo ppl like dragonymango draw way better adult-looking sifs than me LOL#lucabytetalks#long post#isat spoilers#isat siffrin#two hats spoilers#doodlebyte#soz for the wait time i kinda had to draw pictures to explain anything in a coherent manner. not that this is coherent at all
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Could you do Etcetera and Electra now pretty please? The besties
Your drawing style is so cool and pleasant to look at💕💕
Also, Happy Christmas and new year!✨🐱
ty for the kind words! I hope yall had a good holiday!
disclaimer, this is my first time trying to draw etcetera and electra so Im sure my designs for them will change in the future, but that's par for the course with me lol. I draw mistoffelees probably the most and even now I wouldn't say that I'm 100% on even his design. usually when I go about transliterating the costumes I'm looking at the napier concepts and the '98 designs (if only bc they're the easiest to find clear images of lol) but sometimes those leotards and wigs are damn hard to recreate in my style lmaooo
not that anybody asked about all that lmao ANYWAY,
in terms of backstories, these are another pair of kittens that I'm not too decisive about yet lol. I can at least start with surmising that neither were, or are, domesticated, as neither wear collars. I entertained the idea of them knowing each other prior to arriving at the Junkyard, but now I'm leaning more towards them actually having met there instead.
I see Etcetera as very outgoing, sociable, trusting, and so on, with humans and cats alike, so I'm actually thinking that maybe she had been briefly domesticated, but then was abandoned for whatever reason by her humans, maybe discarded somewhere near the entrance to the Yard. I feel like she would have naively thought it was all a game, taking a while to realize that she was left purposefully and her humans weren't coming back from her, nor where they looking to be found. Probably one of the older cats would have spotted her and invited led her back to the Yard to be looked after.
For Electra...personality-wise, I see her as similar in personality/energy levels to Ectetera, but kind of "edgier." She's more bold, brash, and curious, whereas Ectetera is persuadable, impressionable, credulous, etc (heh). she's a little goofier and lighthearted. that's not to say that Electra isn't also fun and goofy, but I think she's more of a "thinker," and more independent. Electra may be a more itinerant member of the tribe, despite being so young. Nobody, after all, is a prisoner there; cats and kittens alike can come and go as they see fit, and Electra is a little too insatiably curious, and a little too courageous, to be confined.
Her backstory is ehhhh...very nebulous to me yet. It's probably something similar to Pouncival and Plato; born to a stray, maybe in an alley, and eventually ended up separated from her family. I'm going to have to think more extensively about where she comes from and how she ended up a member of the tribe. Honestly her and Etcetera both lol.
I think Electra, sort of like Tumblebrutus, is likely to be a ringleader when it comes to mischief among kittens in and out of the Junkyard. Tumbebrutus, though, is always looking to impress and appear tough, whereas Electra operates under no such pretenses; she doesn't care nearly as much about what others think of her. Her concerns lie more in the greater unknown. She's the epitome of a curious feline, wanting to know more about the world, about history, and about what it means to be a Jellicle Cat. Others like Victoria and Jemima more often intuit such things, more likely to allow themselves to be governed by the influences of the Jellicle Moon and their own varieties of mysticism. Electra is a bit more literal, more salt-of-the-earth. She usually convinces the other kittens to accompany her on her sojourns and escapades, but she'll go it alone too; I'd peg her as one of the most organically independent kittens...and also, I think, one of the most leaderly and protective.
She gets along with everyone, but is most often accompanied probably by Etcetera. She probably butts heads the most with Tumblebrutus, although the two of them can be quite a pair when it comes to working together towards a common goal.
Etcetera is less so those things, although she's sort of "daring" like Electra, insofar as she's not prone to fits of pragmatism that make her cower in the face of adversity, real or perceived. she's simply all to happy to be along for the ride. extroverted and containing boundless energy, she feels the need to enjoy the company of others and to be the center of attention almost constantly. I think her and Electra get along so well partly because Electra is so restless, and Etcetera lacks inhibitions, all too happy to be included; she's pretty much the only one of the younger cats who will never play devil's advocate, who will never express doubt, who will never try to talk another cat out of an impending adventure. her only reservation, really, may be getting in trouble with the older cats; but it's not too hard to talk her into disregarding such concerns.
More meaningfully, I think the two go well together because of their polarized approaches to viewing the world and construing more difficult lessons and concepts. Electra is prone to getting too much in her head and overthinking; so it's a good thing Etcetera is there to dumb things down for her, to simplify those more challenging queries in a way that is comfortingly sensible and potent. I.e., when Electra finds herself pondering why is such-and-such right? Etcetera will remind her that right is right, and there's no need to look further. Or in other words, she reminds Electra that sometimes it's time to mind your heart and your intuition, rather than get tangled up in endless cerebral complexities. in her view, sometimes you truly don't need all the answers.
all together the two of them enjoy a very balanced and close friendship, and are jointly the source of a lot of energy and mischief that takes place in the Yard!
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i've been in the far orbit of this argument for a while and I'm really baffled why people can't be understanding of each other's perspectives and i'm sorry for what you're going through...
i want to have a little break-it-down for reblog's sakes if anyone wants to put this in their blog because there is MUCH to be said about the non-MC and you are the MC angles. spoiler alert: there is no wrong answer. it's about respect & understanding.
you are the main character
This perspective is all about inclusivity and self-insertion, which is honestly such a big draw for otome games in general. The idea is simple: you’re not just playing a game--you’re imagining yourself in the game. Your avatar is customizable, so you can tweak your appearance to reflect how you see yourself, or even how you want to see yourself. It’s like being dropped into an isekai where you’re not just some regular person--you’re someone special.
and HEY, who doesn’t want to imagine themselves as this badass, idealized version of themselves? In this game, you’re a cool hunter, you’ve got skills, you’re navigating this wild sci-fi/fantasy world with monsters and powers & oh yeah, you’ve got a literal aether core in your chest. That core isn’t just a plot device, it’s a metaphor for potential, for becoming something more. The game practically screams, “Hey, this could be you! Look how powerful and capable you could be!” It’s empowering in a way, and I totally get why people love this angle. It’s fun to imagine yourself as the one charming the LIs, holding your own in battle, and rising to the challenge of this world.
For people who vibe with this, it’s about escapism and self-expression. You don’t want to read about someone else being awesome, you want yourself to be awesome. It’s the ultimate power fantasy.
key word: power fantasy. which brings me to
you are NOT the main character
The argument here is that while the game tries to sell the MC as us, it just......... doesn’t land for a lot of players. Let’s start with the fact that this is a Chinese game, and the default character design is heavily rooted in East Asian beauty standards. Which is fine. It's their game, I'm not complaining I'm just telling it as it is. Yes, the skin tones are inclusive, and I’ll give them credit for that, but the body type? The facial features? The overall aesthetic? It’s not exactly universal. I mean, take a good look at my big fat ass and tell me how I’m supposed to feel immersed when the MC looks like a dainty stick figure who’d snap in half if she ever actually tried to fight (despite all the "abs" talk.) Like, she’s cute, sure, but she’s not me. And definitely not you. (Don't talk to me about "she has to look like that because she's a hunter, remember". all of us know that's not the case. it's about beauty standards.)
And then there’s the way she acts. Oh boy,,,,,,,, Sometimes it feels like she’s actively trying to make the worst decisions possible. It’s one thing to be flawed, flaws are human and relatable, but there are moments, especially in the Sylus arc, where I’m sitting there like, “Girl, what are you doing?!” She makes choices that I would never make, and it pulls me right out of the story because it’s not even a matter of imagining myself in her shoes anymore. It’s like watching a character in a TV show make a bad call, and you’re yelling at the screen, but it’s not like you can change what happens. That's okay, though, it's not a sin. She has her own personality, her own reactions, and her own story, and while that makes for a compelling narrative, it also makes it really clear that she’s not us.
For people who lean toward the “non-MC” argument, it’s frustrating because the game is selling this experience as one where we’re supposed to see ourselves in the MC, but she’s written in a way that feels so disconnected from how many of us would act or feel. It’s hard to immerse yourself in a story when the character representing you feels so far removed from who you are or who you want to be.
so what?
Honestly, I think this boils down to what you’re looking for in the game. If you’re someone who loves the “you are the MC” vibe, then you’re probably willing to overlook or even embrace the gaps between you and the character because the customization and the overarching narrative of personal growth are enough to make you feel seen. But if you’re in the “non-MC” camp, then every time the MC makes a cringe-worthy choice or the story reminds you that she’s more of a predefined character than a blank slate, it’s going to take you out of the experience. (This was me in "No Defense Zone", I had to put my phone down and do laps around in my room out of second hand embarrassment.)
Maybe the real issue here is that the game is trying to have it both ways. It wants to tell a story with a strong narrative and a compelling lead character, but it also wants to let players insert themselves into that story. And honestly? That’s a tough balance to strike. It works for some people, but for others, it ends up feeling like a half-measure that doesn’t fully satisfy either camp.
At the end of the day, I think it’s okay to feel a little jealous of the MC because, in a way, she isn’t us. She’s her own character, living her own life in this world, and we’re just along for the ride. And whether you see her as “you” or as “another character,” what really matters is how much you’re enjoying the story. So let’s keep discussing it, but maybe we can stop tearing each other apart and harrass people over it. It’s okay to love the game for what it is—or even for what it isn’t.
Guys I may be mentally insane but ... Why do I low-key feel jealous of MC when I see clips of the upcoming cards... Especially the Sylus one..
IK SHE'S MEANT TO BE US BUT 😭😭
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i've been rewatching wwdits in order (i can't let go yet, okay!) and am currently in season three, and it got me thinking about how i think the end of s6 is such a rewarding happy ending for nandor that really resonates with the rest of the series. i know that in the finale, the characters are making the argument that nothing ever changes and the ending's not significant, but i think what we actually see with nandor, especially in his relationship to guillermo, is really the opposite.
disclaimer: i would have loved overt canon nandermo, so i definitely understand the pain of us not getting that. however, this post just focuses on what actually happened in the last few eps rather than what wwdits could have done instead!
some thoughts on why i love this ending for mr. de laurentis so much--
so, from the start of the show, we sort of have the two "couples" in the house with laszlo/nadja and nandor/guillermo. we can see that nandor has an unusual attachment to guillermo as a familiar even from the start, because laszlo and nadja go through familiars like kleenex, whereas nandor and guillermo have their funny little bickering marrieds thing going. however, nandor can't admit how much he cares about guillermo or how much his companionship means, because guillermo is his familiar and that's humiliating!
we also see nandor struggle a lot with a sense of purposelessness (especially after colin breaks his world view in 3.04!) and we see him missing his warlord life constantly even though it's been centuries since that was his reality.
and he usually decides he's going to fix his guillermo crises and his existential crises by going all in on some new love interest!!!!!!
then the guide gives him the talk where she points out his pattern, and even though he ostensibly wasn't listening, maybe it managed to permeate his single brain cell on some level, because his commitment to guillermo at the end of 6.10 isn't about the chase, it's about a long-term commitment. "an unbreakable alliance." (and then they seal it with a hand clasp that really just smacks of ~victory~ to me as a gesture!)
charmaine's advice (telling nandor to tell his crush who he has new feelings for how he feels) doesn't work out with the guide ... but it does work out when he ✨proposes✨ his plan to guillermo and tells guillermo he's the thing that nandor holds in the highest esteem possible: a warrior. (and this after guillermo told nandor that nandor made him never feel good enough. nandor does not like to listen when his patterns are pointed out to him -- see aforementioned scene with the guide -- but he did this time, and tried to make up for it quickly!)
nandor also manages to find a middle ground where he and guillermo can meet: fighting bad guys together. and we see from "nandor's army" that he still has epic warlord skills, just like guillermo has epic slaying skills, and this gives them the space to both be thriving in a shared purpose, after having purpose-related existential crises all season!
guillermo is skeptical that nandor's really going to commit and change, as expressed in the shared talking head in 6.11, and he figures he'll be saddled with all the work, but we find out at the end that nandor has committed so hard that -- in addition to all his drawings and diagrams and his silly costume shopping -- he somehow managed to make that two-person coffin elevator into a secret underground lair a reality?!?!?! (i like to think maybe guillermo will be more into the idea of their partnership in a post-"omg the coffin elevator actually exists" world.)
"you can call me nandor." that is all. <3
nandor's also, ultimately, willing to let guillermo go after a season that was full of pain over letting guillermo go, and he does it calmly and simply and without flinging any guilt-tripping guillermo's way. it is a peak "if you love something, let it go, and it will come back to you" moment. and then, of course, guillermo comes back like immediately. :) and is welcomed into the coffin, and the future adventures that the camera won't be there to catch!
anyway! this is all just a bunch of nonsense rambling, but my point is, i think the recurring loneliness and dissatisfaction that we see nandor grapple with throughout the series is something that is finally over once he commits proudly to a life with guillermo fighting the good fight (whatever shape that might take in the future, since who knows how long the superheroes thing will be the vibe). he needed to overtly acknowledge what guillermo meant to him, to himself and to guillermo and to everyone else, because pushing it down was part of what was keeping him consistently miserable, and once he's done that, he doesn't have to go looking for purpose in a cliche romantic happily ever after (and indeed, he seems totally checked out when the gang talk to him about being in love with the guide toward the start of 6.11). he has it in his unbreakable alliance, wherever that may go! 💘
#dollsome's deep thoughts#nandermo#what we do in the shadows (fx)#wwdits#this post might truly be nothing new whatsoever but somehow i had to write it anyway!#i just think it's very rewarding emotional payoff after six seasons of nandor misery#these dummies are gonna have FUN and MEANINGFUL WORK TOGETHER#i think what i'm trying to say is that i do think nandor and guillermo both had arcs and a HEA together#rather than it all just being nothing
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Winter warmers Day 30: Lights (sort of. the nsfw version). Maxiel. About 1k words.
Daniel had bought them as a joke, something to wrap up and give Max just to see him blush, but he doesn't feel like laughing right now. He actually feels like his brain is going to leak out of his ears.
They had turned off the lights in the living room, for a better effect Max had said, and their only sources of lights are now the Christmas tree in the corner, twinkling with warm yellow, and the light up dildo in Max's hand.
Daniel doesn't know how he thought this would be funny, doesn't know how he thought his reaction to see Max kneeling on the couch, a light up plug in his ass and a light up dildo in his hand, would be to fucking laugh.
The plug is tiny, smaller than the one Max usually liked, but the base of it glows with soft pink and purples, creating blushing shadows on the back of his thighs.
Daniel really wants to touch, to see if it was warm, how it would look in his hand, but Max had told him to sit and enjoy their present, so Daniel is sitting. And very much enjoying.
"Does it look good?" Max asks, pressing his elbows on the arm of the couch to push his ass out more, a breathlessness in his voice betraying is faux coyness.
"It looks very pretty," Daniel manages to say after swallowing twice, trying to wet his dry throat. He wants to put his mouth on it.
"It does not feel as good as the glass one," Max tells him conversationally, fingers reaching back to prod at the plug. The glass one is Max's favorite, one of the bigger ones they have, smooth and elegant.
Daniel doesn't have any braincells left to think about the other plug though, not when Max is lightly playing with this one, pushing it in further before drawing it back a little, his hand almost fully covering the light. All Daniel can do is dig his fingers in his thighs, trying to keep himself from reaching forward.
"I think this will feel better," Max says after a moment, shifting on the couch to raise the dildo. The colors of it are changing, and Daniel hopes he can survive this evening, so that another time he can ask Max to blow it, wants to see lighting up his mouth from the inside.
"You should try," Daniel tells him, vaguely proud of how his voice is just a little bit choked. He's so hard he might explode, and Max has barely done anything yet.
Maybe he should ask him to blow the dildo right now, because he's not that sure he will survive the evening.
Max hums, grabbing the lube from the coffee table and pouring some directly over the dildo, some of it dripping over the towel he had very smartly placed on the couch. The he reaches back again, and pulls out the plug.
Daniel doesn't know what sound he makes, something between a cough and a moan, high pitched and embarrassing, but he doesn't even care, because Max's hole is clenching around nothing, and no matter how many times Daniel sees it happening it will never not be devastatingly hot.
Max leans forward more on the couch, down on his elbow as he switches the hand he's holding the dildo with, plug dropped on the coffee table with the lube. It's still lit up, and it creates a weird purple glow on the glass surface.
When the dildo touches Max's hole it is light green, and Daniel watches, mesmerized, as it turns light blue and then blue as he slowly pushes in, just one inch.
Daniel lets out a broken moan, which mixes with Max's shaky exhale. Daniel can see his muscles clenching, trying to adjust to the difference in the stretch, from the tiny plug to the dildo.
"Do you..." the words disappear from Daniel's brain when Max pushes in another inch of the now orange dildo, and he has to breathe twice before he remembers what he was going to ask. "Do you want help?"
He knows Max has plenty of experience with fucking himself on a dildo, but the angle isn't the most comfortable, especially when going so slowly. And maybe Daniel just really wants to touch, sue him.
"No," Max mumbles, sounding dazed, "you sit. And watch."
Well, Daniel is for sure watching.
Max takes his time with it, fucking the dildo in and out, slowly taking more and more, until it's almost fully in, just a sliver of green lighting up his rim, when he jolts, moaning loudly, legs slipping further open.
"Yes, baby, that's it," Daniel finds himself babbling, feeling so turned on he feels like his whole body is just made of pure lust. "Does that feel good? You look so good, baby, so pretty."
Max whines, and his hand is trembling when he drags the dildo out again, lights dancing on his skin with each shaky movement before disappearing when he fucks it in again with a punched out moan.
"Fuck, Maxy, let me..." Daniel asks, uncaring of the desperation in his voice, just wanting to touch, but Max shakes his head.
"No, you sit," he repeats.
He's fucking himself more steadily now, finding his rhythm, moaning and whining, more loudly every time he manages to hit his prostate.
The lights are mesmerizing, and Daniel feels dazed, too warm, skin tingling with need.
"Daniel," Max moans, and Daniel can tell he's close. "Touch yourself. I want...come with me."
Daniel doesn't have to be asked twice, shoving down his sweats just enough to drag his dick out, red and hard, already so wet he doesn't even think about reaching for the lube.
It only takes a few strokes, his eyes firmly fixed on Max's ass and the way it shakes as he comes, spilling white all over the towel, and then he's coming too, with a half shout of Max's name.
#maxiel#my writing#winter warmers 2024#i think this counts as day 3 too but i have already done day 3#i havent reread this and i think maybe i might have switched from present to past tense at some point#if i have just...ignore it
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I’ve finally been able to sit down and read chapter 23
WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO US😭😭??? I DON’T KNOW WHO TO SIDE WITH ANYMORE AND IM NOT EVEN FINISHED WITH THE CHARACTER OMGG
amazing writing I love it🥲👍 five stars
🔥🔥YES MY PRETTIES WALLOW IN THE MORAL AMBIGUITY 🔥🔥
In all seriousness, you can't ship characters like Peter Parker with Jason Todd without moral conflict. Not without a compromise of at least one of their characters.
Grounded as I am in the real world, I align with Peter's perspective. But you can do that and still acknowledge that in the world that Gotham exists in, Jason's perspective could lead to less harm.
I RB a while ago someone's comment about how the conflict between Bruce and Jason comes down to, whose life do you choose to privilege? Batman chooses, inadvertently, to privilege the lives of characters like the Joker, despite knowing there's the (high) likelihood he'll escape and harm others. This is because Batman is THE Optimist™️ and so he spares the Joker (and Co.) in the hope they can change and be rehabilitated. But of course, because these are villains which are popular (we're getting a bit meta here), they'll never change. They'll just continue escaping and continue killing. And this is where Batman as a comic character fails.
In Jason's eyes, this makes Bruce complicit in the deaths of all future victims. I think Jason sees the times when he kills people as a form of harm reduction. By making himself a murderer, he in turn reduces the chance of future murders.
(Since we're talking about comic characters and since Batman is an incredibly important character to DC, this inevitably means that Jason's morality can never succeed, because Batman [ rightly so] cannot become a killer.)
Now, I think Peter is more closely aligned to Batman's moral code than Jason's. He's also at his core an optimist. Although I do think their motivators are different: Batman is for justice, something that often involves invoking fear; Spider-Man is about helping others and (to me, in my heart of hearts) community empowerment. This arguably places him in a position where he does side closer with the Red Hood in SOME things.
At present though, because I'm working with MCU Peter who was more or less reduced to a super powered cop, he has a very black and white view of the world. He'd already started changing in the months after the Erasure, but definitely has more growth to make.
Of course, because this is fanfiction, I can allow these characters to challenge each other. Instead of dooming one of them to the narrative, I can explore the messy world of morality in a city like Gotham, rather than draw a hard line in the sand saying, Batman and Spider-Man good, Red Hood bad.
So expect more mess! At the end of the day, fiction is still fiction, and you can look at the world of ECM and think, yeah, this perspective works better there, but not in our world. I'm not expecting my lovely readers to pick sides because I can't pick sides! We can all just look at the quagmire of messy politics and enjoy our two goobers having a mud fight 💖
#existential crisis mode#fanfic#peter parker x jason todd#jason todd#peter parker#marvel x dc#spiderman in gotham#might be expressing some controversial opinions here#oh no
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With it nearing the end of the year, I feel like it's a good time to just have some real talk about why I create art.
At some point during in high school, during those years where you are pressured to figure out what you want to do when you grow up and what you want to major in when you go to college, I had wanted to go to art school after high school. I decided against it ultimately because I just didn't see a true appeal for me. I started to realize that I enjoyed my art so much more when I didn't have the pressure on me to create something for a fancy final product. Yeah, I could go but then I'd have to change aspects of myself I didn't really want to change but had to because that's what the world says I gotta do if I want to be a good artist.
And that's the thing I sort of hate the most about being able to create anything. You have to be good. Otherwise you are wasting your time. You aren't allowed to just make stuff for fun and for a hobby - you have to constantly be striving for improvement at a pace others have set for you. You can't just have it as a hobby. If you make art then it's expected that you make good art.
You're not allowed to be satisfied with being mediocre.
I've been actively posting my art online since I opened a Deviantart account way back in middle school. I'm 26, on my way to becoming 27. And as someone who has spent a solid decade online, I feel more certain than ever that I am a hobby artist. Having a fulltime job DEFINIATELY has helped me come to that conclusion but even before, I knew I liked to draw for fun. I don't like to stress about what I am sharing to cyberspace, I like just having this digital archive of stuff I've made and stories I've written.
I call myself a self indulgent artist because I'm incredibly selfish draw things I want and write stories I'd enjoy.
That's not to say I don't care that people enjoy my work and feel represented at times. I love it when people share how happy they feel when they see my OCs and read my stories. I'm happy I can fulfill some niches for people. Honestly, it'll always be crazy to me when I make something so damn specific that I wanna see and share it just for some other people to get excited. There are benefits to having a public digital archive your art and reactions people may have are one of them.
But ultimately I don't create to make others happy. If I did focus my art on just doing that, I promise you that my online presence and art would look DRASTICALLY different.
I share my stuff online because it's a whole lot easier to archive all my art as well as being able to share my stuff with the world and occasionally make some friends. Posting my art shows I was alive so MAYBE JUST MAYBE I will not be watered down when recalled in memories and people will always know I was insane about my OCs.
I'm pretty satisfied with be a mid artist. My finished work makes me happy, and what I care about is managing to create something of the fellas that reside in my head because seeing my OCs makes me happy...AND I'M THE ONLY SOURCE OF CONTENT FOR THEM SO I GOTTA COOK MY OWN FOOD AND EAT IT TOO--
ANYWAYS I am in no rush to level myself up. I'm 27 and human lifespans are pretty long. Even though it's slow and subtle, I have def been making improvements in my work...but mainly because there are aspects about my OCs that I occasionally realize I am struggling with and pull a "Do it for her" as I work on what I am having a hard time with. SURE they might not be improvements others would like to see but they are improvements that make me happy. And I am excited to see how my art develops over my existence on this planet.
.
.
.
...I am also excited to see if my black ass can finish any of my webcomics before I die. I KNOW I CAN DEF FINISH ONE OF 'EM I JUST DUNNO WHICH ONE IT'S GONNA BE! IT'S A RACE TO SEE WHO MAKES IT TO THE FINISH LINE BEFORE I KEEL OVER
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Secret Smokes (Part 17)
Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader
Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.
Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.
Word Count: 2500
A/N: wow she's back? Hello if you're still reading thank you so much, it's been a year since I posted the NYE chapter and it's once again NYE which I consider unofficial Secret Smokes day so I'm back, I can't promise regular updates but I promise the chapters are just gonna get longer and jucier from now on. I plan to make this 20 chapters so the countdown to the end starts now. I've missed you all!
| SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |
Previous Chapter, Part 17, Next Chapter
Sirius opened the door with a big grin, then you saw surprise, than an even bigger grin. "Y/N!" He exclaimed hugging you.
"Hello." You said in a cheery voice slightly overwhelmed by the greeting.
"I'm so glad you came, Remus you can leave." He said as a joke stepping out the way to let you both in. Remus and Sirius did hug hello after you walked in, it warmed your heart to see Remus loved by someone. You settled in the first floor in the drawing room which had two large sofas a large fireplace flanked by two ornate glass-fronted cabinets, and an entire wall covered with a tapestry of the Black family tree. You sat down next to Remus and Sirius sat opposite you after serving you with tea, he was excited to have you there, giddy almost. "I've been waiting for Remus to finally bring you over so we can chat." Sirius explained as he put an abnormal amount of sugar cubes in his tea. "He says he's worried someone from the order will bump into you but I think he's scared of all the embarrassing stories." Sirius explained, Remus rolled his eyes.
"You know I think you're right, but finally we have the opportunity for you to tell me everything." You replied matching Sirius's energy and shooting him a wink.
"First tell me how did you convince this loser to change his mind as no matter how hard I tried nothing worked."
"I guess I have my ways."
"She's very charming." Remus chirped in.
"Oh is she, tell me more?" Sirius said with a suggestive tone.
"Sirius, get your mind out the gutter." Remus said sternly but still in a friendly way.
"Anyway, those embarrassing stories please." You requested and Sirius's face lit up. Remus shook his head lightly, kissed you on the forehead as he stood up and walked over to the record player in the corner of the room. As Sirius began telling you a story of Remus's prank going wrong in fifth year and ending up with him burning off a part of his eyebrow. Remus flicked through the records and put on one you loved, it was a T.Rex vinyl. "You can actually still see the burn mark here." Remus said as he sat down next to you and you looked closely at his eye brow which had thinner hair in one part, you slowly examined it running your finger over it, sharing a small moment of intimacy. You moved your finger away and chanted "Tell me more, tell me more." Both the guys laughed in response. The tea soon changed to fire whiskey and the stories got juicer. It felt so comfortable sitting relaxing with the two of them. You and Sirius got increasingly drunk while Remus kept his composure however he relaxed more and more. Sirius served you some more whiskey but Remus put his hand on top of the glass signifying he doesn't want anymore and Sirius nodded in response. "Remus you bring me here and you don't even want to join in on the fun?" You teased.
"Don't be offended Y/N. He doesn't drink." Sirius remarked.
"Hm and New years was what?" You poked Remus's side teasingly.
"Correction he doesn't drink unless he's nervous and even then he won't get drunk." Sirius replied and Remus nodded while filling his glass up with some water.
"Well now you're wrong..." you began but Remus shook his head. "He's not. I wasn't drunk. Tipsy and reckless at most. But the last time I was really drunk as James and Lilly's funeral."
"So you kissed me sober?"
"Well under the influence of a little fire whiskey and a lot of testosterone."
"You drank as much as me!" You accused him confused as to how he could've remained sober.
"He's a wolf." Sirius said and howled jokingly. At that moment Remus jokingly made a wild sound before pouncing on you to tease you and pretending to bite you before pecking your cheek.
"Oh Merlin I'm so lonely." Sirius sighed dramatically. And you and Remus rolled your eyes. "Y/N do you have any cute friends?" Sirius began.
"Stop it old man." Remus remarked beginning another round of teasing between the two men.
You were laying down on the sofa with your legs draped over Remus's as your back rested on the arm of the sofa, his hand was lightly stroking your leg in a loving manner and the cure played in the background. It was a song you particularly liked and due to the confidence caused from the uncountable glasses of fire whiskey you began to quietly sing along as Remus and Sirius debated something stupid. "I don't care if Monday's blue Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too Thursday, I don't care about you." You sang quietly to yourself under your breath
"It's Friday, I'm in love" Remus joined in quietly almost a whisper, he glanced at you and you both shared a smile as he gently squeezed your leg where his hand was resting.
"Oh you guys are gonna make me throw up, I'm so lonely." Sirius sighed dramatically, making you and Remus blush this time but by this point in the night all sense of embarrassment had left your body and there was enough public displays of affection, then there was a knock on the door downstairs. "Ooo pizza." Sirius said excitedly and jumped up.
"Do you need help carrying it up?" Remus asked.
"No just don't do anything on my sofa while I'm downstairs." Sirius said with a wink.
"I can't promise anything." Remus whispered to you as soon as Sirius left the room. The alcohol was pulsing through your bodies, yours more than his as he hadn't had a sip of alcohol in about a hour, but the ease of the evening made you feel ever so infatuated by Remus. He moved closer to kiss you slowly. "I really care about you." He whispered.
"I care about you too." You whispered back.
"Thank you for coming here with me."
"Thank you for finally letting me in." You whispered back and he pecked your lips once more before going back to sit in the same position.
"I don't know what I was scared of, this is one of the best evenings I've had in a very long time."
"Me too, Sirius is lovely, and funny. I understand why you're friends." You said.
"He's great, I'm lucky to have him."
"And he's lucky to have you."
"You know when I first met Sirius I thought-" Remus began before you heard Sirius arguing with someone. "Hold on-" he said.
"Everything okay."
"Shh." He said and you both went silent. It was two male voices one was Sirius the other was familiar, a low tone and slow speech. You began to hear a quick walk up the stairs followed by Sirius. Remus quickly moved your legs off of him and moved to the other sofa as at the very moment Snape stormed through the door. "What do we have here?" Miss L/N outside school property, drinking. With a Hogwarts professor?"
"Snivellus, why have you stormed into my bloody house?" Sirius walked through the door annoyed.
"Well apparently you're busy drinking with a student."
"Not my student, I'm not a teacher." Sirius said sarcastically, Remus looked angry and frozen you didn't know what to do you just kept looking at Remus for support avoiding eye contact with Snape.
"Lupin, a man with your condition sleeping with students is not very wise." Remus didn't say anything he stood up to say something but at that very moment Sirius spoke.
"Why have you stormed into my house on a Friday evening? To make up some illusions to help your life be a little less miserable?" Sirius walked closer to Snape, it looked like Remus and Sirius were both ready to punch Snape. You had a lump in your throat, you were half expecting to wake up from this nightmare at any moment.
"Dumbledore called an emergency meeting, and if you haven't forgotten this is the headquarters for the order."
"Doesn't justify you walking through my house?"
"I had to check what you were hiding up here. I look forward to hearing how your furry friend will talk his way out of this one." Snape said with a vile tone.
"There's nothing to talk out of, it's Friday evening and I'm having a drink with my friends, shoot me." Sirius snapped, thank god Sirius was here.
"You're awfully quiet." Snape said turning around to face Lupin.
"There's nothing to say, I'm here for the meeting like you are."
"With a Hogwarts student smelling like alcohol?" Snape said accusingly.
"I can't help if she's friends with Sirius or not." Lupin said sitting down and talking another sip of his drink which was luckily water as he acted as if nothing is wrong. You looked down at the floor. Another knock on the door was heard. "Pizza! Snape you're welcome to leave." Sirius said before running downstairs. "Miss L/N I was wondering how your grades went up so quickly-"
"Oh fuck off." Remus slammed his glass on the table, stood up and in that moment Snape was hit with a stunner. He pulled his wand out and Remus disarmed him in a second. At this moment Dumbledore walked into the room, Remus was disarmed and had a look of horror on his face as he knew he had fucked up.
"Gentlemen, please stand up and explain yourselves."
"Well only one isn't standing." Sirius chipped in standing behind Dumbledore looking at Snape on the floor.
"Thank you Mr Black, I am aware." Dumbledore replied.
"I just wanted to say as far as duels go there's an obvious winner." Sirius continued. Remus's eyes were glued to the floor like a school boy who's been told off. "Remus, when you stand like that you remind me of when you were miss L/N age." Dumbledore mentioned shooting you a glance. "Now would you like to explain yourselves as to the disturbance?"
"Professor, I believe I have caught Professor Lupin doing inappropriate activities with a Hogwarts student."
"You believe?" Dumbledore questioned.
"Well yes, they were both alone here smelling of alcohol."
"Excuse me I was here too." Sirius interrupted.
"Therefore they weren't alone." Dumbledore nodded in agreement.
"But Miss L/N is a Hogwarts student outside campus without permission." Snape argued.
"I see she is escorted here with Professor Lupin." Dumbledore said calmly sitting down and pouring himself a drink using wandless magic.
"But they've been drinking." Snape continued.
"Well everyone here is legally an adult and it's Friday night, what else would you expect? Besides I see a glass of water right here." Dumbledore pointed to Remus's glass.
"I'm sorry Professor Dumbledore, but I don't understand how you can be so relaxed about this. We're meant to have a meeting and we find a student drinking with her professor outside Hogwarts grounds how are you allowing this?" Snape kept protesting.
"I do agree that Miss L/N shouldn't have left Hogwarts grounds during term time however she's an adult and thankfully she did have a guardian with her. Unfortunately, I'm sorry Miss L/N Professor Snape does have a point, I'm going to have to give you detention in Professor Lupin's office on Monday for leaving Hogwarts with no notice."
"And you're not punishing the teacher who allowed the student to leave?" Snape asked.
"Well I am making him run the detention aren't I?" Dumbledore asked.
"I can't believe you are so relaxed about this they are obviously involved with each other in some way."
"Whatever may happen outside Hogwarts grounds between adults does not concern me, I have no reason to believe anything inappropriate is happening in the hallways or corridors of Hogwarts."
A knock again on the door. "I hope it's pizza this time." Sirius said in a tired tone as he walked away.
"I'll escort Y/N back to Hogwarts I'm sorry professor." Remus said standing up.
"Perfect problem solved don't you think Professor Snape?" Dumbledore said with a smile. Snape did not respond. "Now let's head downstairs for that pizza." Words you never thought you would hear Dumbledore say. While waking downstairs you saw Sirius thanking the mildly concerned pizza man for it being him this time, it made you finally relax for the first time all evening. Remus walked in front of you without a word, when he reached the bottom of the stairs he simply announced. "I will be back shortly Headmaster." Before grabbing your arm and taking you back to Hogwarts. He walked you to your dorm room, there he spoke his first words to you. "I need to go. I'm sorry." And just like that he turned around and left.
You knocked on Remus's office door the next morning. You were greeted by a tired face and a slouched body, he looked alike the night after a full moon but you knew the next one was still quite a while away.
"Can we talk?" You asked and he nodded stepping aside to let you in.
"Tea?" His words were weak.
"No thank you." You said, not sitting down. "Are you going to loose your job?" You asked blatantly trying to keep a firm and controlled tone.
"No, I don't think so." He said over his shoulder while closing the door and making sure to lock it.
"Does Dumbledore know?"
"I believe he's known for quite a while." Remus ran his hand through his hair.
"But he doesn't care?"
"He made it seem like he doesn't see an issue with it as long as it doesn't affect my teaching or your learning." Remus explained.
"So business as usual? We're okay?"
"No... I'm afraid not Y/N." He said finally sitting down in his chair.
"Why? Everything is okay. Worst case scenario happened and it's all okay." You reasoned standing on the opposite side of the desk.
"Y/N we have flown too close to the sun. I am a fool for taking you there yesterday I put us in danger."
"Remus don't be-"
"I'm not being anything but honest."
"Remus the only issue here is your own fears, and it seems as though the reality is not as bad as you were afraid. Snape knows, Dumbledore knows. And you're still here, I'm still here. You didn't get fired. No one cares, why can't you let yourself be happy this one time?"
"Because when I feel happy, I let me guard down and every time, every single time something bad happens. I didn't want you to go see Sirius because I knew when it happens something bad will follow but I couldn't resist. And just like that not only Snape but Dumbledore and the whole order showed up."
"And we're okay why can't you see that? Neither of us are in trouble don't run away from a good thing when you have the chance to enjoy it."
Remus shut his eyes and rubbed his temple with his hand. No words came.
"I can't keep going through this back and forth, you need to stop hating yourself so much you're being an asshole." You snapped.
"I don't want to hurt you."
"Do you know what hurts me? One day sitting in your office holding your hand and feeling happy, then the next you ignoring me in the corridors, than suddenly listening to vinyls on your best friends sofa to once again you telling me you want to start ignoring me again."
"It hurts me too."
"You have the power to stop it Remus. Just accept that we both like each other and allow it."
"I like you very much you know that." He pleaded.
"You have a pretty awful way of showing it." You confessed allowing your anger to show.
"I'm an old man."
"Ancient." You rolled your eyes. "I don't care."
"Your reputation will be tarnished."
"Tarnish it." You didn't break eye contact.
"I want you to be able to enjoy your youth, live it to the fullest."
"And a high school romance with my teacher isn't living to the fullest? Do you know how many other girls would die to touch you the way I do." His cheeks flushed red.
"The novelty will wear off girl, you'll get bored of me."
"Then let me get bored." You said leaning on his desk in front of him as he stayed sat on his chair. You were looking down at him and he was looking up at you, his legs spread wide under the desk.
"Darling are you forgetting what I am?"
"A hot professor with low self esteem?"
He laughed rolling his eyes and nodding. "A wolf." He made a howling side and grabbed your hips pulling you closer to him so now you were sitting on his legs starring intently into each other's eyes.
"You know very well that I'm not scared of wolves."
"My body is covering in scars." He broke eye contact.
"I know. And I find them all very attractive." You kissed the one on his neck that was peeking over his shirt collar.
"You know there's stigma that comes with dating a werewolf, people don't like people like me."
"Perfect filter for bigots, if they don't respect you, I don't want them in my life. And now Mr are you finished with the self loathing?"
"I've got a little left in me." He said playfully and you crashed your lips into his. "I'm finished we can move on to the part where I show you all the scars I hate."
"Perfect." You began to unbutton his shirt kissing his chest.
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NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote
A/N: sorry for the angst I had to do it.
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CRUSH | ACT ONE: HOW CAN I MAKE IT OK?
pairing: natalie scatorccio/reader
summary: A frustrating vending machine and a stolen BuzzBall draw you further into Natalie Scatorccio’s chaotic orbit.
wc: 5180
warnings: (TWO) uses of y/n im SORRY IT WONT HAPPEN AGAIN, reader is a bumbling idiot again whoops, petty theft, brief!reader alcohol consumption, slut-shaming(?)
a/n: am i allowed to say that this photo of sophie just does things to me or nah
ao3 / masterlist
PREVIOUS - ACT ONE: CIGARETTE DAYDREAMS
NEXT - ACT ONE: DO I WANNA KNOW? (WIP)
The following week seems to drag on like any other, and, much to your surprise, your parents didn't question your absence from AP Chem that afternoon you ditched with Natalie. That had you wondering, could you do it again and get away with it? You've spent the majority of your life building us this carefully crafted persona—one that not a single person would guess would ever act out. If you did it again, would anyone raise an eyebrow at you? Would people believe whatever lie you fed them? That you were sick, had a headache, car troubles?
Either way, the thoughts linger. But you don't see Natalie again until the end of the week, loitering near the vending machines after school, throwing her hands in the air in frustration and kicking one of them. "God fucking—!" She groans and kicks the machine again before turning around and leaning back against it. "Stupid fucking piece of shit vending machine…"
You hesitate, standing a good few feet away from her as she mutters something under her breath and slams her fist against the vending machine's glass. She looks just about ready to rip the machine apart.
You hesitate, the door to the parking lot just a few steps away. Maybe you should keep walking, let her deal with the vending machine on her own. But then her eyes catch yours, and it’s already too late to slip away unnoticed.
“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help me?” she calls out, a teasing edge to her voice. She gestures dramatically to the machine, like it owes her something. Which, in a way, it does.
You step closer to her and the offending vending machine, "What happened?" "What happened?" Natalie scoffs, "What happened is this piece of shit—" She kicks the vending machine again, "vending machine stole my cash and didn't even spit out my fucking M&M's." She glances around, eyes landing on a fire extinguisher, eyes lighting up like she just got an idea.
"Nope!" You say immediately, fishing some loose change from your pocket, "Just… here. How much is it? Two dollars?" You place down a handful of quarters and dimes into her hand. "Just punch in for another one. Please don't break the machine." You glance around as if someone's watching the interaction, but the halls are empty.
Natalie stops and looks down at the change you've given her, back at you, the change, you, the change, then shrugs and slots the coins into the machine. "Fuckin' rich people…" Which seems to be her way of saying, "Thank you for not letting me break the vending machine because the last thing I need is another suspension," but what do you know?
You watch her stuck M&M's fall to the vending area alongside the bag behind it, meeting again at the bottom of the machine. "Fuck yeah." Natalie grins as she sticks her hand in, pulling out two bags of M&Ms.
Naturally, you assume that Natalie will give you one of the bags.
Naturally, you're proven wrong as she stuffs one of the bags into her pocket, ripping the other open and dumping them right into her mouth. "Mmfanks, princess." She grins as she chews, and for a moment, you wonder if she's ever learned not to talk with her mouth full, but you quickly get your answer when she keeps talking. "Y'should be in class."
You glance around, and that's when you realise why the halls are so empty. The bell rang a good five minutes ago. "Damn." You murmur, quickly stepping back and glancing toward your next class, when you hear a noise of disapproval coming from behind you.
"Where y'going?" She says, mouth no longer full of M&Ms. "You should just skip the rest of that day. Already running a little late, what's just… not going?" She shrugs.
You make your own noise of disapproval, "No, I… I would be skipping another chemistry class with Mr. Carr." You fidget, glancing between the direction of your class and Natalie.
"Okay…" She drawls, "Did he care last time?"
"Uhm…" You shift awkwardly, staring at the floor now, "no…"
She hums, popping a single candy into her mouth, "Did your parents?"
You don't answer that—because the answer was also a no. You gave some excuse to your parents about not feeling well that block, and they believed you. And you're pretty sure you could just get the notes from today's class from that guy that sits across from you…
"Exactly." Natalie's voice cuts through the quiet, "You don't have any reason not to! No one gave a fuck. And you're, like, smart." She gestures at you, "I'm sure you can handle missing one class without your GPA dropping or whatever."
You open your mouth to retort, then click your tongue and cross your arms, a pout on your face. Usually, you could probably find some retort to that. But… maybe a part of you has already made your mind up for you.
"I… really shouldn't…" You murmur, trying to convince yourself that you should go to class.
"Yeah, you should." She rolls her eyes, tossing another M&M into her mouth, "Come on. Live a little. You keep letting this…" She gestures to nothing, "Fear control you; you're never actually gonna live!" Natalie laughs to herself, "Dude. Princess. Come on. What's one class? At the end of the day?"
You're about ninety percent sure she used that logic last time.
That being said, you've never been that good at putting your foot down before.
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, "Dammit." With a resigned shake of your head, you look up at Natalie, who has a smug grin on her face as if she already knew your answer. "Fine."
"Mm, try not to sound so excited, yeah?" She pops another chocolate into her mouth and starts walking to the exit, clearly expecting you to follow.
"Do you ever wait for people?" You whisper-yell as you walk after her, taking quick strides to catch up.
"Nope." She pops the p, "If you wanna come, you'll come. If you don't, you won't." She shrugs and actually offers you the bag of M&Ms. "Want one?"
"Oh, uh, sure." You stick your hand out and she dumps a few chocolates into her hand before she throws the doors to the school open and walks out into the open air, taking an exaggerated inhale.
"Ahhh, air. See, this is what you miss when you stay cooped up in school all day, Princess." She grins smugly to herself, tossing the candy wrapper in a garbage can as the two of you walk. "Fresh air and the smell of cigarettes." And, before you can say something about not being able to smell cigarettes, she fishes a pack of smokes out of her pockets, placing one between her teeth and bringing a lighter to the end.
"Do you ever not smoke?" You ask, more to yourself than her, and (affectionately) roll your eyes. "Nope." She pops the p again, "Always got a cancer stick in my mouth." She grins to herself as if she's proud of herself for that fact.
"But it's a nasty habit." She adds, after a beat of silence, "I don't even remember when I stopped smoking for "fun" and started smoking because I had to." An exhausted sigh leaves her, and she wipes the nonexistent sweat on her brow with her thumb.
Silence follows after she shares that piece of information—as if it's the first time she's admitted that out loud. An unreadable expression crosses her features, although you're sure you can detect her underlying unease with admitting that.
"Where are we going this time?" You clear your throat, trying to ease the sudden tension that appeared. "Back to the skatepark?" Nat shakes her head as she ashes the cigarette, "Nah. I need a Redbull or something. Got shit I need to do tonight, and I might as well have been hit by a train. Fuckin' exhausted." You glance at her as she says that, looking for signs of exhaustion, but find nothing visible. Maybe it's the fact she looks like a raccoon, the bravado she carries, or just… her, but she seems fine. Maybe she just hides it well.
"Honoured to, uh, join you on this very meaningful adventure." You say sarcastically, which earns a snort from Natalie.
"God, you're such a dork. It's cute." You find yourself flushing at the compliment despite yourself, finding yourself extra embarrassed for reacting like that, especially considering that she said it sarcastically, but you can't help yourself. "Yeah, whatever." You mumble, which earns a snort from Natalie.
"An embarrassed dork." She remarks without even looking at you, a low chuckle falling from her lips. "Now that's cute."
Oh, God. Your cheeks feel like they're on fire. Simple compliments shouldn't be getting to you the way they are, and she seems to know and bask in this fact. She lets a shit-eating smirk don her face, but you're lucky enough she chooses not to embarrass you further.
"Hey," Natalie speaks up after the two of you walk in silence for a few blocks, "Y'know, thinking about it, I don't think I ever got your name." She glances at you, "Mind spilling a secret to me?"
"Oh, uh, yeah. It's y/n." "Hmm." Natalie hums, "Right, right. That is… y/n is a name for sure. A good name! But I think I prefer Princess. Therefore, I will keep calling you that." She says, seeming overly pleased with herself.
"Right." You mumble, wondering why you thought there would be any other outcome to this conversation. "Don't take it personally." She muses, taking a drag from her cigarette, "Princess just suits you." A beat, then she blinks a few times and almost bashfully adds: "In a good way. Obviously. Not in a…" She gestures with her free hand to nothing, which she seems to do a lot. "Not in a "you're an uptight bitch" typa way, alright?" A small crack in the facade, genuine bashfulness from the woman you swore was never anything but sure. But, it's gone as quickly as it appeared as she clears her throat. "Whatever. Just… don't take it personally." She waves her hand dismissively.
"Thanks." You murmur, a small, excited grin on your face as you walk beside her, feeling like some type of schoolgirl interacting with her crush for the first time at the… almost compliment.
"Yeah. Whatever." She responds, pointedly avoiding your gaze for the rest of the walk.
…which, in all honesty, isn't that long. Maybe another minute before you're walking into a QuickChek.
The store has seen better days, without question. The floors are all scuffed, the air conditioning is making this weird creaking sound that honestly scares you a little bit, and the clerk looks like they couldn't honestly give a single fuck about anything. A tornado could blow through the shop, and they wouldn't care.
Natalie seems to already know where she's going, walking with a purpose to the far left corner of the store. She walks her fingers across the fridges that line the walls, humming an imaginary tune to herself as she does. She stops at a particular door and swings it open, grabbing herself a RedBull before pausing to look at you, "You getting anything?"
"Oh!" You fumble for a moment, grabbing a water bottle that was in your backpack and waving it briefly, "I'm all good." You take a small sip for effect, but it just earns a slightly confused look from her before she shrugs and closes the fridge.
As the two of you wait in line at the register (the old man in front of you has about thirty lottery tickets he wants checked), you let out a gentle laugh when you see a BuzzBall sitting on the counter.
"Y'know, I've always wondered what they taste like." You nod towards the drink, "Does it live up to the hype?" You muse out loud, "Chili Mango?"
The blonde snorts, "Nah. It's blown way out of proportion." She shakes her head as the guy in front of you two complains about not winning anything on another ticket. "I'm easy for coolers. I'll take…" She gestures to nothing, "A Mike's Hard or Smirnoff Ice. Maybe a Four Loko if I'm feeling interesting. But BuzzBalls…" She shrugs and slides her drink towards the clerk as the lottery ticket guy walks off, "I dunno. Overrated."
"Huh." You consider that piece of information as you look at the offending beverage.
You don't find much time to consider it until you hear a "Dude, what the fuck?" from Natalie. You glance over at her, and she's glaring daggers into the clerk. "I gave you a five. Where's my change?"
"Nope. You gave me two ones." He shrugs, glancing at his phone, "Must have remembered wrong."
"Dude." She makes a fist with one of her hands in frustration, but it doesn't look like she wants to punch him; instead, she seems like she's just trying to restrain herself. "I get that this job probably pays like shit, but what do you get skimming three dollars off a fuckin'... high schooler?" She makes a slightly confused expression at the "high schooler" comment, as she immediately realises that it's a stupid argument, but it's too late to change it now.
"I didn't take anything from you." He rolls his eyes, "Jesus. Calm down. Just, like, check your pockets, or whatever." He rolls his eyes again, clearly not giving a shit. Natalie, on the other hand, looks pissed. But she knows better than to argue about something like this with a clerk who would probably press the panic button if she tried anything. "Fine." She glares at the clerk a moment longer before her eyes flash to the BuzzBall you were looking at previously, smirks, grabs it from the countertop without fuss, and walks out the door. If the clerk notices, he doesn't say anything. So, you simply just skitter out after Natalie.
She's still walking away, jaw clenched, so it takes you a few seconds to catch back up with her. "Dude, what—"
She stops walking, faces you, presses the drink into your hand, and keeps walking. "There. Now you can try a BuzzBall—since you wanted to."
"Wait, no, I'm just… what happened in there?"
"The asshole stole my change." She mutters as she cracks the RedBull open. "So I was just getting my money's worth." A large swig from the can, "Like, steal from the rich old guy making you scan hundreds of lottery tickets, and not the chick who has almost her entire outfit thrifted from Good-fucking-Will."
She huffs, then shakes her head, "Whatever. Have a drink. Tell me if it was worth it."
You hesitate, looking between her and the beverage, but eventually sigh. "Dammit…" You crack the tab on the lid and take a long sip. When you lower the container back down, you roll the drink around on your tongue a little bit before frowning. "This is just… okay, I guess."
Natalie laughs. Low and genuine and it makes her eyes crinkle. "Well, yeah, I told you that. Glad you're realising it now, though." She shoots you an easy grin and resumes the path she's taking.
You walk alongside her for a few minutes in relative silence, sipping on the drink while she smokes a cigarette and takes the odd swig from her RedBull, seemingly lost in thought.
After a few more sips of the BuzzBall, you let out a soft laugh. “You really just took it and walked out. That’s… kind of insane.”
Natalie snorts, "Relax, Princess. It's just a BuzzBall. Small potatoes. 's not like I boosted a car or anything." She grins to herself, "Unless, of course, this is your first brush with crime?" She muses in a sing-song voice, "I may succeed in corrupting you yet."
You scoff to hide your blush, "Okay. Whatever. I'm just saying…" You shrug and kick a pebble, "What if he, like, called the cops or something?"
"Cops have better things to do than chase down two high schoolers for a single drink." She snorts, "Trust me. I would know."
You cock an eyebrow at her, "My bad, forgot you were a delinquent. Of course, you have all the information on how cops in this town act." The tone is teasing, and… wow. You've been surprising yourself a lot lately, haven't you? Teasing like this is… new. Very new. You think you like it.
And, for what it's worth, Natalie seems to like it, too.
"Mm, well, someone has to teach the nerd how to live, yeah?" She takes a swig from the can, "Might as well be the delinquent on first-name basis with the entire police population of Wiskayok." You roll your eyes fondly, "Yeah, no one better to teach me, I suppose."
"Exactly. Who better than the adrenaline junkie?"
"Adrenaline junkie?" You parrot, "I suppose that sense. I'm assuming your driving record is worse than your rap sheet?"
That earns you a laugh from the blonde, "Oh, by far. If I ever got caught, anyway. Listen, Princess, if you're gonna go double the speed limit, you gotta learn how to avoid radar. Plus, no one thinks that the forty-year-old Ford Ranger is goin' that fast. It's all about stealth." A wide grin rests on her face, smug and sure. "I got a lot I could teach you, Princess. 'lot I could sell you on."
"Nancy Reagan has taught me to Just Say No to drugs, thank you very much." You muse with a teasing lilt, "You cannot sell me on that."
"That's the first place your mind goes to? Drugs?" She laughs again, throwing her head back. "And Nancy Reagan? Jesus. How old are you?" You notice her eyes crinkle when she laughs, and the dimple on her cheek is more prominent. A careless sort of happiness that almost makes you envious for some reason.
"Old enough to remember the good ol' days before the youth of America were corrupted by these goddamn liberals…" You say in your best "old person" voice.
Natalie keeps laughing, "Oh my God, you are a fucking loser!" And, despite the words sounding harsh, you can tell she doesn't mean them in a cruel way. It's… affectionate, almost. You'd probably be mildly offended if anyone else had said it like that. But, hey. Maybe you're just too whipped to care right now.
When the laughing settles down, you walk alongside her in relative silence, occasionally glancing her way as she alternates between taking sips from her energy drink and drags from her cigarette.
The two of you continue down the street, the quiet moments between conversations seemingly ten times easier than the previous time you were alone. Natalie doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy the silence, but with her focus on finishing her cigarette and you sipping at the nearly empty BuzzBall, it’s easy to forget how quickly time is passing.
"So," You finally ask, "Have a habit of convincing people to skip classes for convenience store runs and abandoned skatepark trips, or am I just special?"
"You tell me, Princess." She grins at you, "You feel special?"
You roll your eyes, "Am I supposed to feel special, Natalie?"
Natalie glances at you, cigarette perched between her fingers. “You know, you don’t have to call me Natalie. Feels weird coming from you.”
"What, you want me to call you "Princess" now, too?"
"Nah." She laughs, low and warm. "Nat's fine. Save my legal name for my mom or the next cop that wants to book me, yeah?" She finishes with a gentle nudge of her shoulder against yours, "Seriously. No one calls me Natalie."
You raise your hands up in defense, "Alright, alright." You return her laugh, "Then let me ask again, Nat, am I supposed to feel special?"
Nat hums as she considers this, moving her head from side to side in mock thought. "You know what? Yes. I think you should feel special, Princess. Not only do you get to spend time with me, but you also get your own nickname. Pretty cool, huh?" An easy grin slides across her face, "So, yes. Honoured, special, privileged, fortunate… whatever SAT words you wanna use for it. But the answer is yes."
"Alright." You say again, "Then I feel special, Nat."
"Nice." She smiles and nods to herself, taking another swig from her can as she does, "Mission accomplished." That smile slowly slips into something goofier, and for another moment, you see the girl behind the bravado. Sure, maybe you're reading too much into it, but… you're starting to get the idea that she isn't this "untouchable hardass criminal" half the school makes her out to be.
"Wait," You glance around, "You… took us back to school? Thought you wanted to ditch?" Nat shakes her head and gestures to an alleyway between two school buildings, leading you between them.
"We are ditching, and we will remain ditching." She puts the butt of her cigarette into her now empty RedBull can, "I got soccer practice after school. So, yeah, I gotta be here even if I'm ditching class."
"Huh." You lean against one of the walls, "You're really into the whole soccer thing, huh?"
Natalie scoffs, "Yeah, shocker, isn't it? The deadbeat actually cares about something other than drugs."
You frown at that, "That wasn't what I meant. I just…" You sigh, "I meant it in a "tell me more" way, not a "I'm making fun of you" type of way."
"Oh." She seems genuinely surprised that you're curious but nods after a moment's hesitation. "Right. Well, uh. I started playing in middle school." The blonde can't seem to meet your eyes as she speaks, and you swear you can see the faintest touch of red on her cheeks. "Kept playing, I guess. Worked my way up to varsity." She holds her arms open to show off her varsity jacket. "Coach thinks we have a good chance of going to states this year, and states is just one step closer to nationals."
"Damn. So you've been… you must be really good then, yeah? Are you a starter?" You know jack shit about sports—if you're being honest with yourself. You're just throwing around words you think are relevant to the situation.
Nat nods, a sardonic grin on her face. "Yeah. A starter." She shakes her head and lets out a gentle huff, "Varisty starting winger." A beat of confusion on your part, "Means that it's my job to get the ball to the player who takes the shot, Princess. I'm basically the assist hound. Or, well, that's what Coach wants me to play as, anyway. Keeps saying some shit about how I got "good ball-handling skill" and "the ability to weave through tight spaces" or whatever." She shrugs, acting like that isn't great praise to receive from your coach.
"Wow, so you are really good." You give her an encouraging smile, "That's cool."
"Yeah," Nat grunts, "I guess. Beats doin' nothin'."
"I dunno. I think it is pretty cool. It's one thing to play it casually; another to be good enough to make it to varsity in high school, and another to win nationals."
"Woah, woah," Nat puts her hands up in defense, "Rewind a little, yeah? We haven't even gone to regionals yet, let alone states." She runs her free hand through her messy hair, "But I appreciate the… unwavering support, or whatever." She glances away again and scuffs her shoes on the pavement, looking uncharacteristically timid.
You get the idea this girl isn't used to receiving praise of any sort.
Interesting.
But, like most cracks in the facade, it's gone before you have time to dwell on it. "That mean I can expect to see you cheering me on in the stands when soccer season starts, Princess?" She asks, taking a step towards you, close but not quite in your personal space.
"Uh, well, uh, actually, uh, I—" She's not even being particularly seductive. If anything, it just looks like… she's stepping closer to hear you better, or so she doesn't have to be so loud. Yeah. Something like that. "Sure, I, uh, I just don't know when soccer season starts." You mumble while getting the feeling that your face is gonna be red a lot around her. "So, I'll, uh, I guess, need your schedule or something. Or whatever." You shrug—like the flustered bastard you are.
"Right." Natalie scoffs and fishes her phone out of her pocket, unlocks it and hands it to you, "Throw your number in there, yeah? I'll text you the soccer schedule for this season."
Oh, wow.
If you were a flustered bastard before, you might as well be a complete mess now.
You stare at her phone for a solid five, maybe ten, seconds in silence.
"Right." You grab her phone, and with wide eyes, you create a new contact.
You return the phone to her, and she immediately sends you a text, "There. You get my message?" You grab your own phone out of your pocket and check to see if you have any new messages, and you do.
"BuzzBall." You read the message back to her, "Yeah, I got it."
"Cool." Nat grins and shoves her phone into her jacket pocket as she rocks back on her heels, seemingly debating on asking a question.
She never gets the chance to.
"Oh, shit! Look who it is!" One of the two guys walking past the alley you and Nat had ducked into chirp, "The resident burnout! Suck any dick, recently?" A cruel laugh leaves his lips as he nudges his taller friend, "Or, hey, maybe you've been sucking on something else?" He looks at you with a grin. "Find a new bitch to fuck?"
"Nah, this one don't look her type." The taller one chimes in, "She only into the bitches she gets in juvie and older guys, yeah?" They both laugh at that, seemingly finding themselves very funny.
You had heard the rumours. Of course you had. Who hadn't? But it was one thing to hear a rumour and another to see it yelled at in her face from across an alleyway. When you glance over at Nat to see her reaction, you're… almost shocked to see an expression of hurt on her face.
The hurt doesn't last long, and you quickly find seething anger taking its place.
You glance back at the guys as one of them speaks up again, "I mean, hey, if you ever want a dick to suck, mine is available!" The taller guy laughs, nudging his friend. "Come on! The seat in my Beamer goes all the way back!" They both laugh again.
"Nat—" You turn back to look at her and see a deep scowl on her face as she reaches behind her, into her waistband. You really aren't sure what she's about to grab, but you really don't want to know, either. "Woah!" You laugh nervously, "O-okay! Haha! Wow!"
The guys seem to notice the moment of her hand, and although the taller one seems to falter slightly, the other doesn't care in the slightest. "Oh, come on, Scatorccio! Don't wanna get thrown back in juvie for assault, do you?" He laughs, "Or maybe you do! Find yourself a new girlfriend for the winter!"
Natalie's jaw tightens, and her wrist twitches, clearly debating whether this is worth her time.
"Come on, burnout! You packing heat or something? Let us see it! Is it the same gun you used to rob that corner store last year?" He continues laughing, but the taller one is not having it, discreetly tugging on his friends backpack and mumbling something.
"Natalie." You laugh nervously again, this time reaching out to gently grab her wrist as you see her hand move again, "Come on. It's not worth it." You hesitate a moment, and your awkward smile drops, "Please."
She tenses further at your touch, but the next time you look up at the two guys, you see the taller one clearly trying to leave. At least one of them has some sort of self-preservation instincts. Seemingly realising that they're going, her jaw immediately loses its tension.
A moment of very tense silence passes between you, your hand still on Natalie's wrist, her hand still reaching for something in her waistband. Luckily (or unluckily), she breaks the silence with a loud, annoyed scoff.
"Christ, relax." She pulls away from you, audibly and visibly upset. "It was a fucking knife, Princess." She pulls out a switchblade and waves it once, "You seriously think I would carry a fucking gun or something on me?"
"I didn't know what you were carrying! Gun, knife, machete, fucking… nunchucks, I don't know! I just didn't wanna see you get into a fight!" You run your hands through your hair nervously, "Especially not with two guys double your size!" "First off," The blonde scoffs, putting the knife away again, "I don't need someone looking out for me, alright? If I choose to fucking get into a fight with two douchebags, that's on me. Second off, why do you even care? Huh? You don't even know me! We have hung out twice!"
"Maybe I'm just a decent person who doesn't want to see people get into fights?!" You counter, growing increasingly confused as to why she's getting mad at you now. "It's not that I agree with anything they said, Natalie! I just…" You throw your hands up in frustration.
You do care about her, as stupid as it sounds. Despite not knowing her that long, you do care about her safety, and you really don't want to see her get hurt right now.
"I just don't want to see you get hurt, okay?" You say, softer this time. "Okay? I know it really isn't my place; I just… don't want you to get hurt, okay?"
Natalie's bravado seems to falter at that, and you see a flicker of guilt cross her face for a moment before it's gone, and she looks away with a scowl. "Yeah, well… whatever."
There are a very tense few moments of silence before Natalie seemingly can't take it, and she shakes her head with a grunt. "Whatever. I gotta get going. Like I said, shit to do tonight." She tosses the empty RedBull into the nearby trash can and makes to leave, but hesitates for a moment.
Turning her head slightly—but not properly facing you—she offers her parting words. "For the record," she starts, her voice soft, "you really aren't that bad, Princess. I'll make a burnout of you yet." Then she's off again, leaving you alone against the side of the school.
You're pretty sure that's a compliment. That being said, you don't really know with her, but you'll take it as a positive for now. What is it with her and leaving with ambiguous comments?
Ugh.
When did relationships get so complicated?
a/n: ok MAYBE im taking some slight inspiration from the show... sue me. also... i don't think natalie would be the type of person to just rob random stores n shit. i really think she would only do it if she felt it was justified. shes not a bad person shes just rough around the edges ok 😔✊
...I've never had a buzzball and know nothing about soccer btw
#natalie scatorccio#nat scatorccio#nat scatorccio x you#nat scatorccio x reader#natalie scatorccio x reader#natalie scatorccio x you#yellowjackets#yellowjackets x you#yellowjackets x reader#spoons (fics/blurbs)#butter knives (sfw)#from the cutlery drawer#crush
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Am over here biting each art you post, each info you post about One or onion as if it's 5★ dish BECAUSE IT IS THAT TASTY 🩷🩷🩷
Few questions (remember if you don't feel comfortable about or don't want because of spoilers feel free to ignore):
- What causes you to have the genius idea of putting an animation in few panels of the comic? Like did you thought of it? Did somebody/friend suggested it?
- name one friend/ROTTMNT AU you don't mind to have their character/OC in your comic even as a background character?
- What causes One to change his mind about the mad dogs and decided to join their family?
- If you have a plot about making a new episode of ROTTMNT that involves One (and maybe somebody else; could be one of the brothers or splinter or anybody you want) what the plot's gonna be about?
- if onion (i keep calling F!One that, the disrespect is unimaginable am sorry 🥲) followed the movie plot would he end up ashes like canon F!Leo or will he make it back alive with casey JR?
- how's One's bond with Cassandra?
- how does One feel about Draxum demoting from an alchemist to a lunch lady? (LBH this's funny job for him).
- do you plan on putting an episode about One & Draxum AFTER their redemption? Like will they forgive and (probably not) forget?
- Name or draw one outfit you would love for One or draxum to wear as their casual clothes.
- any cute, funny or wholesome HCs about One after his redemption arc?
That's all for now! Again thank you if you answered my questions but if not then it's all good👍
Have a great week and take care of yourself 🩷
1)Oh, I just answered something about this here, but the short version is: I've wanted to do a mix of animation and comics for a long time (a zelda comic was my first inspiration for this) When I started this au it was gonna be an animatic so when I changed that to comic form, I still had a few things that I really wanted to have animated
2 )I'm not gonna @ them to not bother them, but I think I'm gonna end up having the sep council on the bg at some point lmao, this ask is from october and the reason I have been holding it back from answering is cause I kind of already did with the wall of champions on the last update!
3) for spoilers reasons I wont get too deep into this one, but while there IS a defining moment of him taking a choice, is not that what matters, what matters the most is the journey, after all, is the time he has spend with his brothers up to that point is what makes him flip sides
4)I do have a few episodes planned like that! right now I'm following the episodes that already exist cause is fun to see them change with the au, but I also have some that are things I made up! One I'm excited about is with Raph and One having some solo time on the Hidden City
5) "the disrespect" LMAO my brain refused to call him Oneion too at first, but is just easier with all the leos of the crossovers. He's not gonna go back with Casey Jr, sorry, his fate is not set in stone yet but I do know he's not gonna end up in ashes. I'm not gonna explain more than that lol
6) this has been asked a lot so I'm just gonna throw these here too @damonagel04-blog
One and Cass end up having a weird little friendship, based on mutual respect. After teaming up with the Foot Clan for canon plot reasons, One fights all the foot recruits as a training/demostration kid of thing and the only one who can stand their ground against him is her, and of course he finds her fun to fight, cause he can actually have a fight with her. After that they go on missions together, cause they force One to be with a team and he doesn't do teams but agrees if she goes, because she is actually a good fighter and competent enough to carry out the mission
Also, I have the headcanon that they can't use their real names on the Foot Clan, that's why they call her Recruit. you just give out your name if you actually trust the other person, but given the fact that everyone serious on the foot clan is a shady ninja and the other part of the foot are random people, she had never actually given her name to anyone. After a few missions together, Cass decides she can actually trust One with her name
They do end up being friends, tho One would never call it that, at least not pre-redemption
7) One doesn't really think much of it, he knows Draxum likes to cook, he has cooked for him his whole life, so he ending up with a cooking job on the surface is not so weird, and he knows Draxum has to lay low so it makes sence for him to be on such a crappy place. Plus One's gonna have another things in mind to worry about, he wouldn't have brains to judge that.
8) Oh I have so many things planned for their journey post redemption, but those are spoilers, they will eventually end up in a better place
9) I do have some doodles of one on casual clothes (1) (2), Draxum I honeslty have no idea
10) I'm gonna give you one thing with each of the hamatos:
Mikey teaches One to cook, he learn the hard way that you have to give One very specific instructions on what to do or he'll fuck up
One likes spending time on Donnie's lab, just lounging while Donnie works (is familiar to him), Donnie has a beanbag where he goes to nap sometimes while pulling consecutive allnighters, One ends up claiming that spot for himself
Raph helps One work through his anger issues, having experience working on his own, he's also the one One opens up the most
Splinter overhears One saying he used to wear a robe when being at his home and gets him a few. One ends up getting suck into watching telenovelas with Splinter
One likes putting on face masks with April, they end up having full "spa days" at April's at least once a month
and that's it! thanks for the ask!
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