#getting the hang of the new drawing app

[atheyrie]

Helaena Targaryen, the dragon dreamer

This portrait was commissioned in 136 AC by her mother, the Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower. This was at Helaena's coronation as Queen of the seven kingdoms, after her brother-husband, Aegon ll Targaryen, ascended to the Iron throne. In an act of usurpation of the claim of their older sister, later Queen Rhaenyra l Targaryen.

Queen Helaena was around ten and nine years of age. She is seen wearing the signature colour of her faction, and the house hightower, green.

This was shortly before the murder of her nephew, Prince Lucerys Velaryon, by her brother, Prince Aemond Targaryen. The event that is seen by historians as the true beginning of the dance of the dragons.

(Bad quality + first real artwork on iArtbook)

[ellecdc]

hii!! i saw that ur requests were open and i was like omgomgomg. i was wondering if you could do poly!jegulus x reader (in ravenclaw/hufflepuff) and its like the cliche tie switch type of thing where they all end up with eachothers tie colours (like james gets a green tie, reg gets a blue tie, and reader gets a red tie). and omg pls feel free to ignore this ik its an odd one. anywhosies i love your fics !! you truly have such a talent for writing :)

soooo cute hehehe, thanks for your request! hope I did the trope justice <3

poly!jegulus x fem!reader who all swap ties [819 words]

CW: somewhat secret relationship (at least James' involvement), accidental outing of that relationship, reader is portrayed as shy and Ravenclaw

You were shy. 

Certainly far shier than Sirius, shier than Remus, and perhaps even shier than Regulus. 

And it was because you were so shy that Sirius almost felt bad for saying something. 

Almost. 

“Oi, Rem,” Sirius started whilst keeping his salacious smirk pointed at you, completely unawares of the piss being taken at your expense, “I think you might need to take 10 points from Ravenclaw for being out of uniform.”

Remus looked up from the article he’d been reading as the piece of toast that had been on its way to his mouth paused midair, and you furrowed your brows as you looked up at Sirius from under your lashes. 

“Me?” You nearly squeaked when you realised Sirius’ predatory gaze was pointed at you, though Remus had the grace to smile at you apologetically. 

“Your tie, love.” Remus explained gently, but that didn’t seem to clear things up for you.

“But…I have my tie on?” You argued in the form of the question, hand migrating unconsciously to the well-tied knot at your neck when James’ voice permeated the atmosphere.

“Angel!” He called out breathlessly as he made it over to the Gryffindor table. “I, erm, I think there might have been a mix up.” 

Sirius watched you turn your head - which only served to draw further attention to the fact that you were not wearing your own house colours - to see James loosening the blue and copper tie from around his own neck. 

Sirius couldn’t even enjoy the widening of your eyes or the slacking of your jaw when he realised something.

“Wha- wait, no, wait, hang on.” Sirius sputtered as Remus nearly choked on his tea. “Why do you have her tie?”

Your hand quickly began to loosen the tie situated around your neck, though your movements slowed when you realised-

“For Salazar’s sake, Potter.” They heard Regulus hiss as he stalked over from the Slytherin table; Barty, Evan, and Dorcas cackling, seemingly at his expense (to the point that Barty actually slipped off the bench in a fit of laughter), as he ripped the red and gold tie from around his neck.

“What the fuck!?” Sirius shrieked as you finally pulled the green and silver tie off of your person and timidly held it out to your boyfriend. 

“Can’t believe you were so quick to blame it on me, Reggie.” James teased; easily replacing his own house tie to his neck and casually fixing the collar of his shirt whilst Regulus turned a completely new shade of pink and you looked like you were hoping for the floor of the Great Hall to simply swallow you up. “It takes two to tango.”

“Or three.” Remus chuckled under his breath, wincing when his boyfriends ire turned towards him. 

“Did you know!?” Sirius asked his maybe possibly soon to be ex boyfriend (or certainly his boyfriend who would be getting no cuddles or chocolates from Honeydukes for the next foreseeable future). 

“I…had a hunch?” Remus tried.

“The three of you!?” Sirius barked at the three of you then, though you and Regulus seemed to understand the question was for James. 

“Yeah!” James responded easily. “We’re pretty cute together, huh?”

Your shoulders migrated impossibly higher at the attention as you tried to cave in on yourself, and Regulus simply rolled his eyes at what he clearly felt was a Gryffindor brand of nonsense. 

Sirius had no response to that, though it didn’t appear James was waiting for one. James - the sod - simply pressed a kiss to the side of your head before doing much the same for Regulus and continuing back out of the Great Hall for his meeting with McGonagall as the Headboy. 

Regulus let out a frustrated huff and narrowed his eyes at his brother as if just daring him to say anything, though Sirius watched his face soften significantly when he turned his attention to you. 

“D’accord, amour?” He murmured quietly. (translation: alright?)

“Ouais.” You offered quickly. “But, erm, can you go away now?” 

Sirius sort of expected Regulus to huff in offence or chide you for being quite rude, but Regulus seemed to understand that you simply did not like the attention right now and actually smiled at you. 

What the fuck was happening right now!? 

“Tu vas bien, mon amour.” (translation: you're okay, my love) Regulus whispered into the side of your head where he pressed his lips before he departed, but the expression on your face made it look as though you very much disagreed with that. 

“Oh my gods?!” Sirius let out then when it was just Remus, you, and himself. 

“What’s that saying?” Remus asked as he looked back at his newspaper with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Curiosity killed the kneazle?”

“I wasn’t curious, Moons. I was trying to take the piss.” Sirius pouted.

Remus simply hummed at his petulant boyfriend as he winked at you over the Daily Prophet. “Call it karma, then.”

[11cupids-tarot11]

What can help your dreams ★Manifest☆ ?

1 -> 3

︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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Tarot Deck used: Garbage Pail Kids

Oracle Deck used : The Roast Iconic

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pile 1- The Devil, Six of Coins in Reverse, The Hanged Man

Oracle cards- "Billionaire: Are you hoarding wealth to fuel your King or Queen Baby dreams? Do not pass Go, do not collect a million dollars, don't even go to jail or pay taxes- think about doing some good and using your hoard to end WORLD HUNGER ALREADY!"

"Black Square: Apparently, you are only down for doing the bare minimum during an incredibly significant time to stand up and advocate for human rights. Drawing this card reminds you that your actions need to not be just performative, they must be based in real knowledge and include follow-through, both online and IRL (in real life). You don't have to be on the front lines, but at this point in history, you can't be silent either."

Hi my pile 1's 😭 I feel like it's been forever I hate being away from my blog for too long cause I start to miss y'all literally lol.

So anyways for your reading today I feel like Spirit is wanting to draw attention to maybe some addictions, self sabotage is what I heard while shuffling the cards. I feel this heavy energy of someone purposely messing up their own blessings in a way I feel like maybe someone's stuck in this very heavy energy but also not really doing anything about it? Like maybe you know something's not good for you, maybe it's a connection or even a job that's tiring you out, it's something along those lines but you just can't stop it, you know? I heard someone needs to do an energy cleanse! I heard take some time off. Maybe someone's drowning themselves in something like studying too much, there's something about over doing something. Someone could have very curly hair here.

So I'm hearing here someone should take the time off and do something fun, relax a little. I think there's a message here also of feeling like you haven't done enough of something and you're obsessing about it mentally a lot and spirit is saying just take a little break from it and endulg in something else, something that makes you happy and makes you feel like you, you know? Even if it's just taking a walk while listening to your favorite music or maybe reading your favorite book and watching your favorite movie, you know? So with the six of coins here I'm also getting a message of like you've worked really hard already and you've done a great job honestly it's okay to rest and not be perfect already already, Rome wasn't built in a day I'm hearing!

The hanged man is just confirmation you've definitely been making yourself sick and stuck by obsessing over this thing. I also feel like maybe you're stuck because spirit is wanting you to see things from a different perspective, like in my garbage pail kid tarot card Wacky Jacky is hanging and all stuck in a tree but while she's stuck she realizes she sees the world in a whole different perspective and it's then new ideas come to her. Approach your goal from a new angle!

I feel like someone here is also someone very important with a very hard position and that might be why you work so hard, you have a lot of pressure on you maybe. Take what resonates!

Hope you enjoyed this reading! Let me know, I love you and take care ♡

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pile 2- Queen of Wands Reversed, Seven of Wands Reversed and Three of Cups.

Oracle cards- "Troll: Are you a Necessary Evil? Do you feel you must play Devil's Advocate? Or are you someone who hates themselves so much they feel they have to try to get others to feel the same way? If you answered "yes" to one or more of these questions, please seek help or therapy, or get a hobby."

"Bitch: Are you being a Bitch, or just making sure they can't take advantage of you? Stand up for yourself, but make sure you don't steamroll anyone in the process. Do no harm, but take no shit."

Hi pile 2's, hope you're doing amazing 🤩

So right off the bat I'm picking up shy energy lol, someone who's maybe more reserved or introverted. I don't want to say basically Spirit thinks you should be loud or more outgoing but I definitely think you'll go through a time period of weird energy and out of the ordinary situations happening that are forcing you out of your comfort zone. You might not get any more extroverted but I definitely do see branching out might help, sitting with your close friends and just letting yourself let loose or just enjoy the company. You might be someone who people look at and not get the big picture right away, like they have lots of accusations about you but you're kind of closed off so these accusations aren't 100% true because there's more to you than people know, you're just not the type to go and give yourself away that easily. You might be someone who prefers to keep a very close knit group of friends, I heard something about trust issues.

You could be petite, someone who doesn't look like they're very strong and that's what surprises everyone when you finally do show them you are indeed strong. You can be loud and extroverted too I think it's a choice to really be in this shell of yours, maybe it's what's comfortable and that's exactly the problem, when we're too comfortable we don't see the point in changing. Like why fix it if it isn't broken? But you hold great significance, you're just a significant person to the universe and I'm not even sure if you're aware but you are lol.

It's crazy because I'm picking up mixed messages lol, with the Queen of Wands in reverse it makes me feel like someone here is very down and unsure about themselves, needs to take some me time and get away from socializing but with the Three of Cups someone here needs to "stop being alone so much" is how I channeled it, advising you to go out more with the people you love and celebrate, have a good time and just have fun so take what resonates as you know yourself best and what applies to your situation.

With the seven of Wands I'm getting a message of someone who's stressed, you maybe have felt very tired, over worked maybe, even dealing with certain responsibilities or relationship makes us feel tired and all worn out so take this how it resonates. You're on the brink of giving up, maybe you felt like it's not worth it or simply just can't find results you've been wanting to see, maybe this thing is literally killing you because Spirit is stressing you drop it enough to take the stress off you. I wouldn't advise anyone to just give up, but Spirit used such words as "drop it" like maybe the thing you're supposed to drop isn't serving you and that's why it's making you feel so bad. I'm just hearing Spirit even ask if you think all of this is worth it? This is something tough that's been bothering you, it could even be as simple as negative thoughts with all of the wands energy here, I think this is a group in their head a lot always trying to hold themselves accountable and very motivated to just do right. I heard a message that it's hard coming up for new creative endeavors because of all of the negativity in your thoughts holding you back, this energy is blocking your ideas. It's like you vs you almost, I think you have the power to help your dreams manifest all on their own just with your thoughts alone so keep a check for your energy, watch who you share your energy with because it's important and powerful. You're powerful I heard!

I hope you find this helpful! Take care angelz love you! ♡

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pile 3- Seven of Cups, The Chariot and King of Wands.

Oracle Cards- "Black Square: Apparently, you are only down for doing the bare minimum during an incredibly significant time to stand up and advocate for human rights. Drawing this card reminds you that your actions need to not be just performative, they must be based in real knowledge and include follow-through, both online and IRL (in real life). You don't have to be on the front lines, but at this point in history, you can't be silent either."

"Red Flag: No matter how often you try to bleach the red flags white, they only turn back to red. You have been warned- now PULL ANOTHER CARD!"

"Cult Leader: You are not a guru, a Timelord, or a demigod. You are an egomaniac who needs minions so you can feel like an authority to compensate for your own feelings of inferiority. Grow up!"

Hi pile 3! Hope you're having a fantastic day where you are!

So right away I'm picking up a message of not seeing the bigger picture, this pile feels more like a "How to Manifest more quicker" lol. I'm hearing this very slow moving energy, someone refusing to move on to the next chapter though you might be aware it's time to even but I'm getting a sense of fear. Even if you are unaware of these changes there's still so much anxiety and fear surrounding you at these times because the universe is basically forcing you to move lol! Move or be moved I'm hearing.

So overall I feel like someone in this pile might have lots of distractions, someone might have adhd and a hard time concentrating on tasks. Spirits drawing your attention these times and reminding you to stay focus.

With the Chariot card I feel like there's some movement here that needs to happen, you need to take action. I think that's the best way to help your manifestations right now, maybe someone here even forget exactly what they were manifesting and Spirit is like "Uhh HELLO? DO YOU REMEBER THAT THING??" lol. I heard someone's just been away from the job a little too long, I even get from the Seven of Cups it might've been you were distracted with something else that just sparked your attention better, but all that glitters isn't gold!

So I think you're working on being in this King of Wands energy, someone who is very productive, knows what they want, speaks up about anything, rather it's an idea they have or just wanting authority. I feel like a few of you even might know exactly what this is, I feel like a few of you might not even have a specific dream you want to manifest just clicking on the reading for fun lol but there's still a secretive message here I think you'll understand as you apply it to your situation.

Spirit is asking you to maybe think about the roots you want to plant and start from there, stay true to your craft and perspective and be committed.

I hope you enjoyed this reading! I love you, see you soon ❤️ ★

[voxisdaddy]

Hello~! I hope you are having a wonderful day and I would like to humbly request a part 2 of the Velvette x reader break up seeing how reader is holding up.

Are they watching Hella Novelas as well? Do they regret the whole thing? I love Velvette and really want to see how this would be affecting both sides

-🎨 anon

Ice Cream

Pt 2

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Velvette x Reader

C/TW: cussing

Type: Headcanons + Drabble

In which we see from readers perspective on how they’re dealing with the break up.

Pt.1 Pt.3

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Opening up sinstagram, you scrolled past numerous posts on the discovery page. It seemed every other post was about your relationship with Velvette—hells most prominent fashionista and social media influencer. You huffed upon seeing another video of speculation on the status of your relationship.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You had deactivated your account long ago, a few hours after getting rid of all the remembrances of your previous relationship with the overlord. The memories were too much, and people speculating all the time was getting unbearable. You knew deactivation of your whole account might’ve been a bit too far, it most certainly had people talking, but you’ve seen this shit happen before;

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ High profile couple break up, people speculate, lots of talk and gossip, even months and years after it’s ended people will still talk, they’ll compare their new partners to their old partners, insist it’s a “right person, wrong time” type bullshit and just ugghhhh

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “Do people have nothing better to do with their lives?” You’d ask yourself, liking a random post using your new account—a new and more anonymous account. You had made sure to keep it as less “HEY IM Y/N” as possible as to avoid any suspicions. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem to any other normal person. Though of course, your previous partner was no normal person and her associates were no normal folk either.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ it made you slightly paranoid at the thought that Vox could be aware of your new account—which was set to private—but considering he’s basically the king of tech, it wouldn’t surprise you that much if he had his ways. But it brought you some peace of mind that he probably doesn’t give a shit so he’d just leave you alone. Unless Velvette made him: then that’s an actual issue.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You frowned when thinking of Velvette—getting slightly upset with yourself for thinking about her.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It was hard not too though. You don’t just forget about someone who meant so much to you for so long, so quickly. Sometimes you wondered if you made the right choice. Did you regret it? Hmm…some days you did.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Some days you’d wake up and turn to the side to see a face you grew familiar to seeing every morning—she wouldn’t be there. Oh yeah. Of course she wouldn’t.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Some nights you slept just fine, not missing a familiar presence next to you or wishing she was there at all.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It was very strange. It’s still strange. It didn’t help that considering she’s fucking Velvette—she’s everywhere. Every app you open; oh Velvette or the Vee’s are top of trending? Shocker! Leave your place for a little while to do some shopping? Oh look on the billboards—it’s fucking Velvette. Dating a celebrity as big of a deal as Velvette you were aware would have some draw backs but at the time you never considered what the end of the relationship would be like. Cuz I mean like, who would think about the ending of a relationship with someone you really liked to even get into said relationship with anyways?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Somedays you opened your closet and yours eyes would drift to the clothing that Velvette had gifted you. Designed, hand made, complete with a spritz of her signature perfume to mark her scent on it—her own way of claiming you. You quirked an eyebrow at the clothing. It’s been… several weeks. Months maybe? Who knows but…

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “Can’t keep hanging onto this forever…” You mumbled, thumb circling on a corner of a shirt she made you. It be nearly impossible to move on if you kept onto these sorts of things. I mean, you suppose by now she’d probably move on…right? Velvette doesn’t get attached to most things so…she has to be over it now. Right?

The walk to the nearest thrift store was anything but simple.

Meaning you had to take the long and more dangerous way around, through random alleyways and parkouring your way about. Their was VoxTek cameras everywhere in Pentagram city so you tried to avoid those as much as possible since dumping Velvette. Out of… slight fear, if you’re being honest.

No one disrespects and humiliates the Vee’s, evident from the Vox and Alastor fiasco, so you were slightly paranoid what Velvette or her fellow Vee’s would do to you since you are the one who ended things. You’re the one who deleted evidence of your relationship with the overlord on your very public account—which you then deactivated which of course only got people talking even more. Fucking great!

“I’m a real genius getting everyone’s attention on us Vel, whoopy.” You muttered quietly to yourself, dodging a stray bullet in the process.

The thrift store was in sight now, and in a quick jogging distance. You stopped from your corner, looking around for any VoxTek camera. Surely Vox isn’t always watching, right? He’s the ceo of his stupid empire for fucks sake, he should be way too busy to be sitting around looking at a bunch of random ass citizens in Pride. You spotted several cameras, making you tense.

“Just act natural. Don’t fuck up.” You whispered to yourself, completely missing the quirked eyebrows of a couple of sinners next to you that you apparently didn’t notice.

Pacing your steps correctly, you tried to make it seem like you weren’t just obviously trynna avoid said cameras. Just gotta blend in with the crowd.

Unbeknownst to you however, three overlords sat in Vox’s office, all the monitors displaying all the nearby streets to this thrift store.

Vox scrolled on his phone as he sipped his coffee, giving the occasional “uh huh” or “that bitch” whenever he felt necessary as he was forced to listen to Velvette’s rant. He was doing his usual work until Velvette and Valentino walked in, well more so Valentino dragging Velvette in. Apparently Velvette went on another tangent about ex’s and how she’s soooooo over you now. Valentino was too high too care but found it amusing nonetheless so he dragged the young overlord and himself to Vox so Vox could deal with keeping up with her tangent while the pimp just sits there and watches in amusement.

Velvette’s rant comes to a sudden stop when her eyes catches a glimpse of the monitors.

“Vox, teleport me there, now!”

With a quick grin to a staff member, you placed the group of neatly pressed clothes in the big donation bin.

The feelings of parting with the clothes was difficult for you to describe. Peace that you could more easily move on? Anxiousness that you’re letting your past relationship go? Self doubt began to flood your soul again.

In an almost desperate attempt to cling onto something, you took one article of clothing and sniffed it—wait is that her scent? You sniffed it again more confused this time. Wha—but you washed it! You washed all of these before donating them, why is that scent lingering around? Another sniff before you realized it wasn’t the clothing that had the scent.

“You’re kind of a freak for sniffing clothes, you know that?”

You turn on your heal, nearly jumping back in shock at how close the other was to you,

“Velvette.”

I’ve had this in my drafts for so long and I had no idea how to end it I’m so sorry. I really wanted to finish at least one request though bc I have so many that’s just sitting there half done 😭

Thank you for the request! I wasn’t expecting anyone to want a part 2 of sorts but I had fun and I hope it isn’t terrible lol

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 10

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

previous | masterlist | next

---

The studio is silent when you enter, the door clicking softly shut behind you. Neither of its occupants stir, even though Chan had just called out for you to come in when you'd knocked; he's staring at his computer screen now, fingers hovering over a keyboard as he listens. Han is on the other side of the room, fast asleep on the sofa with him mouth hanging half-open. 

A coffee cup sits in the ground next to him and his phone dangles from relaxed fingers, dangerously close to falling. You lean over and grab it just as it starts to slide from his grasp; Han doesn't stir, not even when your shadow falls over his face. You catch a glimpse of his phone screen before your thumb locks it, long lines of lyrics set out in a basic notes app, the top bar lined with notifications; you put it down hurriedly on the armrest of the sofa, not wanting to pry.

When you look up, Chan is watching you, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Hi," you say, turning your back on Han. Your hands are awkward after touching his phone - you fold them in front of you, one hand twisting at the fingers of the other.

"Hi," he replies softly, and smiles - something that's meant to be encouraging, you think, but this is so far out of your normal routine that you don't think there's anything that would let you just relax, rather than standing here awkwardly in the middle of the room with nothing else around to draw his attention.

"There's another chair over there," he says, pointing to the corner behind you. "Come and listen to this."

A clear goal. An easy one to achieve too - the breath rushes from your chest as you drag the chair over to his desk, some of the tension in your limbs draining out with it. You sigh again as you sit down, this time as your tired body presses back into the seat and finally finds relief - you've been engrossed in practise all day, sliding right past lunch and nearly dinner too, barely stopping for a break. Not that you'd meant to, you knew better than that, but when you'd felt like you were actually getting somewhere-

"You look tired," Chan comments as he hands you a set of headphones, one hand idly untangling the wire as it stretches out to you. His voice is decidedly neutral, his tongue lazy as it lets the English syllables slide past one by one. He talks to you in English almost all the time recently, you've noticed; ever since the album released, or maybe a little before. Not that you mind. English is...comfortable, in a way that Korean sometimes isn't. It's always been easier for you to be Australian.

"Practise was good today, though," you reply. "I feel like I might actually be able to dance in the group without sticking out now."

"You've been doing that for a while," Chan says, bemused. "Lee Know didn't have anything to say at all the other day."

You can't help the derisive snort that escapes your mouth, swallowing the acerbic laugh that tries to follow it before you can make even more of a fool of yourself. It's so rude; maybe you are tired. You certainly aren't as careful as you usually are, even though you know that can preclude trouble. "I don't think he's being as hard now that I'm not debuting in two weeks," you blurt out, and then drop your eyes down to the headphones in your hands. 

"That doesn't mean he's lying," Chan insists. His hand pats your knee - just a brush of his fingers, there and there and gone again. "You don't really need all this practise anymore, you know."

A shrug works its way up to your shoulders, though it feels more like a defensive hunch than anything else. "I'd rather practise than waste my time sitting around," you answer, and at least the words are strong, even if your body is not. "Especially when there's still a chance I could end up sitting around in Australia by the end of the year."

Something flashes across Chan's face, twisting at the edges of his mouth for just a moment before disappearing - disappointment, or frustration? It twists at your gut twice as hard, whatever it is, upsetting the delicate balance you'd found for just a moment while sitting here. "Do you want to listen to this song?" he asks, changing the subject before you can say anything to defend yourself. "We recorded it roughly, but I need a real version of it, and I think you'll like it..."

His voice trails off as he turns to the computer, pulling up whatever he's been working on. You take that as a sign to pull the headphones over your ears, offsetting one side slightly so that you can still hear him. Music fills your ears - a slow, roundabout beat and a heavy bass, overstrung by lyrics about bravery and fear and the darkness of being alone. Beautiful, in a way you're not sure how to express, and artistic, winding its way into your chest where you won't easily forget it.

You really like this song, so much that you're almost afraid to admit it; because if you did, you'd have to admit too, how its spiralling beat brushes against that dark spiral of anxiety that always lives in your chest, and the cold memories that the words stir up-

"I like that," is all you say when the music ends, one final downbeat cutting through the instruments abruptly.

"Really?" Chan asks, like it's unexpected, or unbelieveable.

"Of course," you insist, headphones sliding down around your neck. "You really want me to sing that?"

"Well, if you're going to spend all of your time working anyway, you might as well do some of our work for us," he says, the tone of his voice and the way his head tilts to point at Han's sleeping form informing you that he is joking. "Listen to it a couple more times, I'll see if Han has the lyrics written down on his phone, and then we'll try it."

"Why wouldn't you be able to sleep?"

Chan's voice startles you, loud after a long period of silence. You hadn't even seen him turn to look at you, or even stop working to check the messages that are popping up in the group chat, his phone propped loosely between his hand and the table. "What?" you ask, one hand coming up to stifle a yawn as it tugs at your jaw.

Chan glances down at his phone screen as another message pops up, and then back at you. "Earlier, you said you wouldn't be able to sleep if you went home," he says, by way of explanation.

"Oh, right." You'd forgotten about that text. You hadn't really thought about it being something that might raise questions at the time; you'd been more focused on the sudden worry you'd had over him assuming that you were regularly here all day and all night. "My house is just too quiet sometimes, I guess. I'm not really used to living alone."

His head tilts, curiousity flaring in his eyes. "You know, I've never actually asked where you live," he says. "Are you still in the dorms?"

"They gave me an apartment," you answer. "I think we're in the same building, actually. That's what they told me, anyway."

"Really?" His eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise. "And you've never come over for dinner? Changbin hasn't dragged you to the gym? No one's run into you in the hall?"

"Lee Know sat in my living room for like ten minutes once?" you offer weakly, though you know it's not nearly what he's looking for. You've got nothing to offer him - even Minseo hasn't been over in a few weeks, each of you too busy on your own trajectory to cross paths. You'd had lunch in the cafeteria twice, and that was all, far from the silent walls of your empty house and it's too-big rooms.

A smile ghosts across Chan's face, strangled by the constant turn of his thoughts back to the problem he thinks he has identified. "On his way back from the store?" he questions knowingly, and you nod.

"He said no one was home at your place."

"If he went into our house, why did he-" he starts, and then cuts himself off halfway, shaking his head. "You should come over for dinner or something. Watch one of Han's animes. If I'd known you were in the building, I would have invited you ages ago."

Apprehension rises in your chest at the openness of the invitation, the way he's able to simply pick it up and throw it out there without even a moment of hesitation. Not that you should feel dread over something as simple as an invitation to dinner, with a group of people you now see every day anyway...but you've never really seen them outside the studio, and you wouldn't know what to expect even if you sat here and tried to guess. 

And even this, sitting here in the dark talking to Chan, is something you've never done before, the reason why you'd sat here so quiet when you'd first come in; if your body wasn't so tired, if the night wasn't dragging on into morning as you spoke, you don't think you'd have been able to sit so still in this chair at all.

"Maybe," you say, acknowledging the invitation with a dip of your chin. "When there's time. I'm really busy practising for debut right now, and I don't want to miss anything."

You're surprised by the look that passes over his face, the tightening of his mouth and the corners of his eyes. "You spend a lot of time in that studio," he says - and you're not sure what to think about the tone of voice that he uses, switching back and forth between stern and...soft, like he's worried he'll say the wrong thing or something. As if he could do something wrong here, when he is the leader and you are-

Well, nothing. You're nothing. God knows what he sees when he looks at you, other than the trainee he was unwillingly saddled with.

"Yeah," you acknowledge, because there's no use in denying it when you know they know the kind of hours you've been pulling. There being eight of them just means it's impossible to avoid running into one of them at every strange hour of the day. "If these are the last three months I have here, I don't want to waste any of it."

"You said that at the concert," Chan recalls. "You still feel like you're not going to debut?"

The memory sits awkwardly in the air of the room; you shift in your seat, shrugging as lightly as you can pull down the movement of your shoulders, trying to play it off. "Do you still think I'm scared of you too?" you question, trying to play it off easily rather than having the words slide heavy from your tongue.

Amusement dances in his eyes. "Maybe not so much," he answers. "You made a joke earlier."

You frown. "Is that...weird? I make jokes all the time, don't I?"

"Not as often as I'd like," he says, and then his face softens. "It was nice, though. So is this - us, talking."

"Mm," you hum, your mouth closed around several sentences that spring immediately to mind. The instinct to measure everything you say and watch your mouth is burnt into you, caution wrapping its cold little hands around your throat every time you start to relax. And now you don't know what to say, when it feels too pointed to make a joke after he's just pointed it out, and too crass to pull out excuses for why this sort of one-on-one rarely happens - and then silence stretches too thin, and time ticks too far onwards, and you've missed-

"Can I tell you what I think?" Chan says and leans back, his arms reaching towards the ceiling as he stretches.

A breath hitches in your chest, apprehension freezing it still. "Okay," you say, your hands twisting together.

His gaze is steady when it returns to you, his hand still where it comes to lie flat on the surface of his desk. In the background, Han shifts in his sleep, the couch cushions shifting underneath him. "I think you're scared to be one of us," he says, every word carefully measured against some weight you cannot see. "And you're scared to trust us. Maybe just me, specifically."

Your heart leaps into your throat in surprise, tears pricking at the back of your eyes. "I'm not-" you begin, but his hand lifts in the air, stopping you short.

"I don't mean in a bad way," he hurries to add, before you can go on. "I understand why; I wouldn't trust anyone either after what happened to you with Midnight. And I've been there before, you know, so...so I know why, I promise. But...I wish you would let me help you. I really want to help you."

You swallow hard, but the lump in your throat remains, the tears threatening to gather in the corners of your stinging eyes. Your stomach feels like its been turned upside down, your equilibrium shaken and turned around. "I..." you begin, as if you have a response, but nothing follows it, your mind racing to catch up in a conversation you hadn't expected to have and didn't plan for. "I...this is my last chance. If I stop, if I..."

"Hey," Chan says. "I understand, okay? And I'm not going to kick you out, or yell at you, or whatever it is you think a leader does. I like having you around, it's too late for all of that now, okay?"

The joke is light, struggling to lift itself in the oppressive air of the studio, but it makes its way to you anyway, lifting a little of the weight off of your shoulders. "I really like your music," you tell him, and push a deep breath down into the bottom of your lungs. "I want to be one of you, really, and I don't - I don't think you would do that, I swear, I just...I know that it's not always up to you. The company can do what they like, and if they think I don't look like I fit in, or I'm not working as hard as you do, or they just don't like how-"

"You shouldn't worry about that," Chan says over the top of you, his face changing. "That's my job - you leave that to me, and focus on the things your working on."

You look down at your hands, then over at Han - anywhere but his gaze, when you say, "I can't trust them to listen to you. Not until I make it to debut."

Chan falls silent, long enough that your eyes stray back to him, unable to look away for any longer. You find a mess of emotions written across his face, lit by the illumination of his computer screen as he messes with the mouse, his attention far away from the track he's idly playing with. 

"Okay," he says when he's done, forcing his hand to move away from the keyboard. "I meant to talk you out of burning yourself out, but I don't think that's going to work."

"Sorry," you say mutely, and feel your shoulders hunch.

"It's okay," he says, before you can retract into yourself completely. "It's okay to be scared. It is scary. So, let's come to an agreement."

There's an unintended challenge in his voice, a way that his eyes watch you that incentivises you to sit up straighter and swallow down all that cold anxiety that freezes in your veins. "Okay," you say willingly. "Like what?"

You like the silent approval you see in his face, the way his mouth relaxes and starts to untwist from the frown it had turned itself into several minutes ago. "You promise me that you know how to take care of yourself, and you can practise as much as you feel like you need to until debut and we won't stop you," he says, "but after debut, you promise you're going to slow down. And you're going to trust me."

It's funny - you hadn't thought anything but the result at the end of these three months would make you feel better, but somehow, he strings together the exact right words to lift that weight off your chest and shine a light down the tunnel. You hadn't thought anyone would be able to do that. Maybe that's why you'd been locked away in the dance rooms, all alone; maybe he was right that you didn't trust anyone, and that maybe you should start.

"I can do that," you say, nodding in agreement. "And I can take care of myself. I won't debut if I'm injured, or I collapse or something."

"Good," he says, satisfied, and then adds, "And you come over for dinner, whenever we invite you. And you go out with your friends again. One of the girls from Midnight chased me down the other day to ask about you, and honestly I'm kind of scared of ignoring her."

"Minseo," you say and, inexplicably, you smile. "Sorry. She's...an extrovert."

"Two jokes," Chan points out, and then laughs at the look on your face, turning away to shut down his computer. "It was fine. She was cool. You have good taste in friends."

"We've been here together for a long time," you say, your eyes idly tracking the movement of his mouse. You glance at the clock in the corner of his screen just by chance - and then do a double take when you see the number there, squinting as if you've misread it. "Is it four AM?"

"It is, actually," Chan sighs as the screen goes dark, closing the laptop and pushing his chair back towards the couch. "Time to go home, I think. Do you want to walk with us?" 

His hand reaches out to rouse Han, the other reaching for the boy's phone, left abandoned on his desk. His coffee still sits abandoned on the ground, long gone cold since that first conversation in the group chat that had led to all of this. Funny, how that one little thing, left forgotten on the floor, had led to a night you wouldn't soon forget. 

"I'd love to," you reply, and reach for the coffee before anyone can knock it over, throwing it in the trash. 

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night @d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk @minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification @starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace @amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002 @hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff @splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit @jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @slutfortits @duhgurl @cheshireshiya @worcesheshestershiresauce @defnotfertilizedtoesw

[shibaraki]

SO THIS IS LOVE ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

synopsis: you’ve been dating your close friend and roommate, todoroki shouto, for almost a month. it’s new, and scary, and easier than you ever expected.

tags: GN reader, friends to lovers, newly established relationship, living together (+they were roommates), support engineer reader, pro hero shouto, fluffy fluff, implied class differences, casual affection (plenty of kisses etc), first date!!!, feeding each other, they’re in love your honor

wc: 4K

a/n: this takes place after my other fic ‘to build a home’ however!! fear not! it can also be read as a standalone ^_^ enjoy!

The vanity is littered with pieces of your life. Work you’ve brought home, tissue discarded after wiping down your dirtied hands, old draft sketches drawn haphazardly and set aside for sentimentality’s sake. Hero merch has been hung around the mirror frame. Small things. Keychains, magnets and bookmarks. A chibi shouto hangs on a ring, fist high and enveloped in ice.

Colour hems your peripheral vision, stems cut from a meadow and displayed in your room. Pink, green, purple and red. Shouto gave you a flower bouquet, roses and carnations and others that you cannot name without a guide; one he loaned expressly to learn the language of flowers for you.

The balmy, summer fragrance lingers, drawing a subconscious grin. You see it in your reflection, and you don’t look away. Not that you were unhappy before—but lately you can’t stop smiling. It is ever present, in your tone, in your disposition, in the pleased glow your coworkers liked to point out. Undeniably, things have been good.

Almost too good.

Dating Shouto changed everything and nothing. It was a uniquely embarrassing experience to reconcile just how obvious you had been throughout the years. You had prepared for wobbling baby steps. However, in many ways, it was as if you’d completely skipped the awkwardness all together, and Shouto became more emboldened than ever.

Exhaling, you push the thought aside. Your reflection relaxes once more as the tension bleeds from your shoulders. You’re all done up; donning your best clothes, an almost unrecognisable version of yourself compared to the oil-stained, work-swept appearance you usually took.

Tonight would be your first official date. Despite having been together for a few weeks now, your misaligned schedules and general lack of free time made it difficult to take that next step. You initially suggested setting up dinner at home. Candlelight and wine. Good food and good company is all you needed. As tempting as it was, Shouto insisted on treating you to somewhere proper—

His own words. ‘Proper’ was not your department. You didn’t know what to expect.

But the memory resurfaces, and at the vision of his soft pout, you ease. Things would be fine regardless of where the night took you.

Echoing through the hallway, Shouto’s bedroom door quietly clicks shut. You watch his silhouette appear beneath the crack of your own. He shifts his weight. The knock you anticipate never comes. Instead your phone lights up where it sits on the end of your bed. You stretch to grab it. The screen unlocks, opening onto your messaging app. Shouto’s name sits unread at the very top.

shouto : just now

Here to pick you up :)

“He’s trying to kill me,” you breathe, biting back an affectionate laugh and smoothing your thumb over the text. Filled with a sudden urgency to see him, you get to your feet. You pat down either side of your hips, ironing out the creases and give a last look to the mirror—pleased, beautiful.

Behind the door, Shouto anxiously waits. Fingers combed through his hair, the bicoloured strands have mixed into one another, brushed over to one side. The light glints. Gold studs sit in either ear, warming his complexion. He’s wearing a light sweater and dark trousers cinched with a belt. The sleeves are rolled midway along his forearm, casting light on a thin gold chain that hangs delicately around his wrist below the watch his older sister bought him for his birthday.

“You look really good,” you murmur, moving into his space. What would make an otherwise clumsy first encounter for any other came naturally to you both. Eyes drag over the length of your body. Shouto licks his lower lip, gaze heavier, and he pulls you in by the hips. A warm musk fills your senses. Pleasant notes of sandalwood and cinnamon. Your hands come to rest on his chest as you kiss his cheek.

“And you look beautiful,” he says. “Are you ready to leave?”

“I’m ready,” you concur, voice steeped in contagious excitement, “we’re going on a date”.

Shouto sways on his feet, your body moving with him, and his fingers dig into your hips as though restraining himself. “We are. Our first date,” stepping away, he gestures for you to take his arm. You coil around his bicep. Quiet, he continues, “I’m sorry it took so long to organise”.

You swat at his shoulder, falling in line with him as you make your way through the apartment. “Your needless apology is not accepted. I’ve told you it’s completely fine”.

Shouto hums a small, gratified sound, and then bends to take his shoes from the rack. You move to do the same. As you straighten he is pulling on a dark brown leather jacket, the collar flicking up when he shucks it around his chest.

A clink echoes out. He hooks his car keys through his forefinger and slowly looks you over without intent. “Bring a coat. The nights have been getting colder,” he tells you. You concede, endeared by his concern.

The car journey is mostly spent in a comfortable silence, feelings of anticipation tainting the air. You don’t ride with Shouto often, usually opting to take the subway, thus reclining into the plush padded leather is still relatively new. Shouto presses a button and a gradual heat gathers beneath your thighs. Your gaze drags to the gear stick, where his fingers are flexing. After some hesitation he shifts gears and rests his hand above your knee.

You stroke his forearm. His thumb moves in idle shapes. The traffic thins out when he takes an unexpected left onto an unassuming street and regretfully releases you. Car parked alongside a few others, strikingly expensive, Shouto cuts the ignition and you step out.

A clandestine entrance comes into view. Through double glass doors awaits a polished, minimalist lobby, leading to a flight of winding stairs. Upon reaching the top you realise the building houses a pair of adjacent restaurants. Traditional and Western, respectively.

Shouto encourages you toward the more traditional archway, and intermittently squeezes your hand. Your palms kiss, his skin a little clammy. The thought of him being nervous charms you. He glances over as you stroke your finger across his knuckles and his temperature seems to cool.

“Welcome”.

You startle. A server had approached at some point during the intimate moment, stoic and lingering; dressed in a pale kimono, not a thread out of place. With your attention she bends into a perfect bow. “It’s a pleasure to have you this evening. Will it be a table for two?”

“There should be a reservation under the name Todoroki,” Shouto replies with silvery cadence. Expression waning in recognition, the server nods.

“Right this way sir”.

You trail through the restaurant. The architecture is luxurious and calming, woodsy tones and warm accents. Thick sticks of bamboo hang over the ceiling, and pale structures formed to resemble cherry blossoms overhang the chef’s bar. Most notable is the fish tank behind it, pulsing gently as the filter whirls.

The server maintains a strict posture as she guides you to your table. Positioned in an intimate corner next to the window wall, overlooking a blushing cityscape, streaks of sunlight threading between buildings.

You take your seat and sink into the curved back. An illuminated centrepiece gently breathes, coming to life and casting a glow across the tablecloth. Cutlery of which you’ve never seen before is set out before you. “I will return to take your order in a moment…” you hear from your left.

Shouto voices his gratitude. His focus turns to you as the server retreats. “Everything okay?” he asks, too perceptive for his own good, somehow managing to make it feel as though he is still holding your hand through all this, even with the distance.

You hum, not trusting yourself to immediately speak. The menu is thick and glossy and heavy in your grasp. “…All good, handsome,” your eyes skim over the eclectic dishes. You squint at the small font, mind unspooling at the assortment of food—most you hardly recognised. “What do you think you’ll order?

With the tilt of his head, Shouto’s focus returns to his menu. While he reads through you wonder if it’s obvious that you’re out of place here. That you came home hours earlier and scraped the grease from your nail beds after tinkering with Ingenium’s suit for most of the afternoon.

“Their signature dish, maybe. I’ve heard the meat is good. They make it with an iron griddle,” Shouto’s thumb plucks restlessly at the corner of the card. Voice pitched lower, he adds, “And it’s the only thing I find appetising on here”.

Your brows raise at his admittance. Partly relieved by the shared uncertainty, though more surprised he felt it at all. “You’ve never been to a place like this?”

Shouto gives a plaintive blink. “No, I have. Years ago when I first debuted my father would drag me to places like this to network,” he says, setting down the menu. Sheepishness colours his features, “But I’ve never been here specifically. Momo recommended it”.

“Momo did?” you echo, subconsciously leaning onto the table. Shouto nods and shifts in his seat. “Cool. Has she ever brought Kyouka here?”

A wayward curl of crimson falls over his forehead as Shouto tilts. He brushes the stray hair back. “No, not that I’m aware. She mentioned that her parents often spent date nights here and they loved it”.

You smile helplessly, restless with the urge to pinch and pull at him. It was obvious that he’d put effort into organising this—maybe a little much. He had overthought things in true Shouto fashion.

“Why do you think that is?” you muse, hoping he’ll see your sincerity and hear you out. “It’s because Kyouka doesn’t like… extravagance. It makes her uncomfortable”.

Shouto considers this. “…Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“That’s not it, baby. I told you I’m happy to go wherever with you,” Shouto’s gaze momentarily drops, the corner of his mouth curling up. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s just—don’t always feel obligated to go to these lengths. Or spend this much. We can save all the fancy stuff for our anniversaries”.

You sit in a brief, comfortable silence, skin warming at the realisation of what you’ve said and the weight it carried. As he studies you carefully in the low light you hear the far off sound of food popping on the hot stove-top and smell a sweet, buttery aroma.

“I understand,” he exhales, resting his chin in the cup of his hand. A smirk teases his lips. “I guess I’ll need to find some other way to spoil you”.

“Shouto. You do more than enough—”

The server is approaching from the corner of your eye. You lightly kick his leg beneath the table to alert him, and he catches your foot between his ankles. There’s a small notepad and pen in her hand. She gestures to the menu.

“Excuse the interruption. Are you ready to order?”

Shouto recites his choice and you choose the same, trusting his palate. “Could we have a pitcher of water for the table?”

“Of course, sir”.

Your eyes linger on his jawline, the flex of his throat. Shadows dance across his face. The live music flows supple and amorous through the room. You want to lean into it; find yourself in Shouto’s arms and move as the rhythm dictates.

“Did you have a good day at work?”

The normalcy of the question catches you off guard in such a setting, and you blow air into your cheeks, embarrassed to be caught staring. He sits with arms folded atop the table to lean closer, unabashedly staring right back. “Work is work,” you reply, giving the routine answer. “What about you? Anything interesting?”

At that Shouto reaches to rest his hand over yours. Broad palm and paling bruised knuckles. He’s cool to the touch. Your heartbeat picks up as he begins to play with your fingers. “I caught a man trying to flash his genitals at an all girls school,” he says, attention drifting as he recalls what, for him, is a monotonous day. “Stopped a train from derailing—ah. One of the students we saved had an interesting quirk. I thought Izuku was going to ask her for an autograph…”

The evening unfolds. Darkness envelops the city and one by one people switch on their lights. It comes to life. You share laughter. You rub his calf and wisps of steam flutter around him. You talk, settling into a natural conversation, a complimentary rhythm, as you would’ve at home. Your once friendship hung lightly between you, an ephemeral thing, lacking weight or gravity. Any other first date experience paled in comparison; this didn’t feel like a first date at all.

Sitting there, now with an empty plate and your glass half full of liquor, a different spirit seems to sift inside you. Uninhibited contentment. The dressed up, high class onlookers fall away. Shouto looks at you over the lip of his mocktail as if you are the only thing he can see.

“A little weird, isn’t it?”

Shouto raises a brow and hums, “What do you mean?”

“Well, this is the part where people learn about each other,” you say. “We already know almost everything”.

“Not everything,” he stops to think. “Sometimes I swallow my gum instead of taking it out”.

“You—” startled, breathy laughter overshadows your reply. You cover your mouth and shake your head. “That’s gross. You’re ridiculous”.

A dazed smile teases Shouto’s lips, “You wanted to know”. The ice in his glass remains, cradled in his right hand, while condensation gathers around your fingers. “…We knew each other as good friends. That’s different”.

You take a quick sip, “Think so?”

“I know so,” he murmurs, his leg sliding between your own. “Now I get to learn about you all over again, in a new way”.

The thin hair on your arms prickles. Warmth and desire seeps through you, soaked into adipose tissue, tenderising thought and thew. “What a charmer,” you say, voice a little thick, seeing the night with new clarity. “You’re right. We just started a few steps ahead”.

Pleased at that, Shouto’s attention falls to the empty plates. “Should we get dessert?”

You consider the idea. It pulls you away from the moment, and everything sharpens in your periphery. Coalesced voices, the clink of cutlery, dulcet piano notes flowing beneath it all. “Not here,” you decide, an excited grin unfolding. “Let’s go get ice cream”.

Despite your protests Shouto pays the bill. You allow it, begrudgingly, since he had organised the date. In passing you bow your head toward the chef working behind the bar, and he gives an effusive ‘thank you’.

“Thank you very much,” another server calls politely, delicate hand raised to wave from behind his drink tray. “Please come again”.

Already too late into the evening, any ice cream parlour would be closed. Even so you clasp Shouto’s hand, bracing against the warmth, and direct him to a corner store on the far end of the road.

The cashier—reclined in a fold up chair, feet propped on the counter and cigarette in hand—staggers, almost tumbling to the floor as he registers Shouto’s identity. Though few, other customers stop to stare.

That feeling of unease returns once more. Amidst the bliss, and mellow, alcohol induced haze, you had completely forgotten about his status as a public figure and the scrutiny that might befall your new relationship as a result. You’ve been linked to various heroes before for business but never romantically.

Shouto is oblivious to it. Rather, you suppose he is used to the scrutiny. You recoil from their staring, and subsequently from his side, your anxious mind assuming some distance might cause them to think twice. In that instant an arm wraps firm around your lower back. Anchoring your hip, Shouto keeps you tucked against him, searching your face for objection.

You chew the inside of your cheek and relent, because you feel better when you’re close to him. The apprehensive and moderately starstruck atmosphere barely tickles him as he rummages through the large freezer. Ice creams and pops of every shape and colour. With a quiet, pleased sound, he plucks out a packet of bite sized matcha ice cream.

The cashier has steadied his hands by the time you’re ready to pay. Shouto deliberately frowns at the cigarette butts on the counter, discarded in an Endeavor themed ashtray. Not on account of any suspicion or disapproval, just simple pettiness. You know that but the poor young man does not, as he continues to nervously explain that his manager is ‘pretty lax about that kinda thing’.

“That’s nice,” Shouto tells him, passing his phone over the card machine. You press your lips thin to keep from laughing. A ping echoes out and the money goes through. “Thank you. Have a good night”.

Confused, the man gives a tremulous smile and nods, “Thank you for everything you do, Shouto, sir!”

Stepping into the tepid night air brings a wave of relief. Shouto releases your waist to pass you your cold treat. Falling into a lazy pace you start back toward the restaurant.

You’ve chosen an ice cream bar on a stick. Teeth sink into it like warm butter, the first bite melting on your tongue. Shouto is eating his delicately with a small pick and at your satisfied moan, he freezes, the next piece halfway to his open mouth.

“I haven’t had ice cream in forever,” you effused, licking the remnants from the corner of your lips. “Do you like yours?”

“Yes,” he replies, strained. You watch him from the corner of your eye. There’s a blush high on his cheeks. Drifting into the car park, he catches your gaze, slowing beneath a stream of light coming from the street lamp above. Cast in a syrupy, honey toned veil, he holds out the pick to you. “Would you like to try some?”

You smile at this, and then wordlessly part your lips. Shouto visibly swallows as he feeds it to you. Sweet earthy flavours harmonised with a hint of bitterness flood across your palate. Chewing, you hold up your mostly eaten ice cream bar and gesture for him to finish it.

Like you, Shouto opens up in a silent request to be fed. You turn the tacky stick between your fingers so he can get to both sides. “Thank you,” he mumbles, gently brushing his thumb at your mouth to wipe away a smear of cream. “For the ice cream and for tonight”.

“What’re you thanking me for?” you smile, besotted. His arms rise to welcome you into his chest. “You’re the one that did everything”.

Shouto squints in obvious disagreement and dips to give you a kiss. His lips are careful, still sweet with vanilla. You feel the soft tickle of his breath to your cheek, fingers carding through his hair as you breathe each other in.

“Let’s go home,” he murmurs.

Arriving at the apartment together is somewhat odd. The air is charged. Where you’d bid any other date goodbye, Shouto crowds into the genkan behind you and locks the door. You shrug off your coat and the thin hair on your nape tingles as he places hands on your hips, guiding you to the side and slipping past you.

Shouto lingers and you wonder if he’s having the same thoughts. “Are you following me?” you tease lightly, giddy at his presence so close to your heels.

“I’m walking you to your door,” he says.

“What a gentleman,” you laugh under your breath. Turning to lean against the frame, fingers wrap around the handle behind your back. Head cocked, you add, “Gonna come in for coffee, too?”

Hearing the innuendo, his expression settles into fond amusement. He cups your cheek. You lean into the shallow of his palm and draw him closer with your eyes. He inclines his face, nudges his nose against yours, and your mouths come together, already soft and open. You kiss for a while, before his lip curls and you both devolve into quiet laughter.

Breathless when he pulls away, you say, “Goodnight, Shouto. Thank you. I really enjoyed myself”.

“Sleep well,” he returns. “I’ll see you in the morning”.

Upon entering the solace of your bedroom, you’re overcome by an urgent giddiness. The energy has you bouncing on the spot, a squeal building in your chest that you don’t release until your face is buried deep in a pillow.

Sleep finds you in the early hours, creeping in amongst your tumultuous thoughts, mentally listing the options of what to do for the second date.

It’s as though you blink and morning shutters in. You stretch, limbs caught in the covers, and shy away from the light bleeding through your curtains. As senses sharpen and your body wakes, the distant sound of pots and cutlery draws your focus.

Your feet drag on the cool floorboards, dazedly wandering towards the tantalising smell pouring out from the kitchen. Shouto stands at the sink in a wrinkled shirt, the hem falling over his red boxers. There’s a slight bounce to his step as he moves, and his expression visibly brightens as he notices you.

“You’re perky this morning,” you mumble, still one foot in sleep, rubbing at the corner of your eye. “What, did you have a hot date or something?”

Hearing the affection in your voice, Shouto flashes a small grin. He slumps against the counter, leaning to check on the rice cooker. Steam curls up into the air. “A really hot date,” he affirms. A smile pulls at your lips.

You notice the two bowls already set out and turn to the coffee machine to pull out a second mug. “Sure there’s enough water in that?”

“Yes,” his puffy eyes narrowed. “I remembered this time”.

You hum, satisfied. Shouto drapes himself around your shoulders and you turn to press a soft kiss to his bare collar, exposed by the loose material of his sleep shirt. The roommate act falls away. “When do you need to leave?”

A warm breath brushes your temple as he sighs, “About twenty minutes”.

“You should go ahead and get ready, then. I’ll plate this up”.

Shouto nods with some reluctance. While he’s gone you fill his bowl and break an egg into it. Adding a little soy sauce and a dash of salt, you whip the rice with a pair of chopsticks until the egg is golden, turning foamy and giving the rice a tender texture. After repeating the steps you sprinkle mixed seasoning over both meals.

You set his coffee down on a coaster as he jogs out into the living room, hair lazily styled and his hero suit zipped to his midsection. “Thank you for the meal,” he says, slightly faster than usual, before proceeding to shovel the rice into his mouth.

“Don’t choke,” you pluck a sticky grain of rice from Shouto’s cheek and eat it. He blinks at you as he chews. “At least give me a few years first”.

The crinkles by his eyes deepen, scar tissue pulling taut. You swallow a hot mouthful of coffee to distract yourself from the way he visibly brightens. “I can give you more than a few,” he replies.

Heat prickles beneath your skin, “No romancing me at breakfast”.

Shouto laughs warmly. And with that you finish your meal together. He departs for work in a hurry, kissing the top of your head and calling out as he goes,

“Have a good day, love. I’ll see you at home”.

[medicetwork]

Mercs if they had modern day cellphones!

Heavy:

The screen is too small and his fingers are too big.

The screen also tends to hurt his eyes after a while but he absolutely refuses to turn down the brightness, saying it would make it even harder to see than before

His main favorite functions are video calls with Medic or his family and listening to music.

His life is complete when he discovers E-books

He can’t read them on the screen but he loves being able to clean Sasha while having his favorite book read to him

Medic:

Really doesn’t use it for much else than phone calls and the occasional google search at first

When he discovers mobile games that takes his interest though!

He becomes a candy crush mom.

Oh you have a broken arm? Wellll…You can tough it out, champ. He’s on level 7,229 right now.

He would make all the other men get Life360

Scout:

Total social media zombie(I say as if I am not one)

Surprisingly he’s very popular on apps like Twitter and Tik Tok. People think he’s hilarious!

Unfortunately somewhere along the way he says something less than respectful about something and his account gets banned

Eventually he’s on account number 6 and trying to regrow his following

It never recovers

He finds out about NFT’s

Sniper:

Mainly uses it to watch youtube and play music

His phone is always on silent and Do Not Disturb

He loves those videos where those guys go out into the middle of the woods and just start building a fucking house out of clay and sticks.

He prefers texting to calling, finding it much faster(he just like me fr)

Baffled by just how much porn he has access to now….

But he’s not complaining.

Soldier:

He doesn’t use it because he just keeps breaking his phones.

They’ve been dropped, blown up, set ablaze, dropped in water, eaten by a bread-tumor monster, eaten by Soldier(???) and run over.

Even if they didn’t get destroyed within 3 days he still wouldn’t use it for much else besides setting alarms and sending confusing group texts.

However, with each new phone he has gotten he asks Pyro for stickers and sticker bombs his phone just for fun

Has an American flag wallpaper

Pyro:

Watches a lot of Youtube!

They love art tutorials, cooking tutorials and those videos with the guys that put molten hot metal balls into water and those videos of people crushing things in Hydraulic presses

Their search history is so fucking strange:

“my little pony free episode”

“my little pony movie free”

“how to draw clouds”

“gasoline cheap prices”

They follow Scout’s pages and always send him nice comments and like his videos

Engineer:

Loves listening to music and watching movies on his phone

Eventually learns how to code and make his own apps

This is also how he discovered he could jailbreak his phone and turn it into a universal remote for his sentries

Very slow texter

Uses way more emoji’s than needed

“Hello yall 👋🏻 going to the hardware store today 🔨let me know if yall need anything while im out👋🏻🚶🏼”

His most used app is the settings app

Spy:

Of course all of his phones are burners.

He never uses one for more than one week

Loves pirating movies on it and watching them in bed

He has no contacts. No personal information and keeps his location off at all times

Likes to pretend to be different people and play around with Google and Youtube’s targeted ads and algorithms

One day he’s an 86 year old woman that’s recommended nothing but metal bands and funeral home ads

The next week he’s four years old and getting recommended Mario and Minecraft let’s play videos

He uses twitter

He’s doxxed many people on Twitter

Like Scout he has MANY banned accounts and has also hacked and stolen many accounts

…He hacked one of Scout’s accounts and got it permanently banned

Demoman:

Loves watching Top 10 videos

Also loves having so much ease and access talking to his lads

He video calls his mother often even she just nags him the whole time and keeps accidentally hanging up

Is frequently texting the other team’s Soldier and laughing at what he says back

Uses Discord and Reddit and is in many servers and communities that focus on paranormal activity, urban legends and cryptids

Actually makes his own youtube videos searching for said cryptids

Frequently comments “cringe” under Scout’s posts

[spider-jaysart]

Supersons headcanons:

Since Damian's a vegetarian and is much more used to eating healthier stuff, he is much more vulnerable to getting stomach aches after eating junk food and too many sweets

Jon's favorite color is yellow

Damian sometimes wears non lens glasses for the aesthetic when going out in civilian form

Jon once won a roller skating competition and earned a golden medal as a reward. He keeps it hanged up on his wall in his bedroom near his desk

Damian was one time interviewed by Buzzfeed in one of their "The puppy interview" type of videos (the series where celebrities get to play with a bunch of puppies while answering questions the whole time). He was in such a happy and smiley mood during the entire video due to being surrounded by all of the small little pups around him and getting to play with them. He even named each puppy in his head while answering all of the interviewers questions and also tried to adopt them all at the end once the video was finally over (Bruce said no though because It's too many puppies to actually handle and take care of at the same time). This video is known as one of his most popular ones because it shows an unusual joyous side of him to fans and viewers

Jon is the type that's quick to download any kind of app games that look fun to him and now he just has so many of them on his phone because of it, that it's beginning to run out of storage space at this point

Damian will always "borrow" Jon's clothes but never returns them back to him

Jon loves pop tarts. His two favorite flavors are cherry and blueberry. He got Damian to obsess over them too after letting him try one of them during a sleepover at his house. Damian's favorite poptarts are brown sugar cinnamon and the s'mores one

Damian hates Oreos and any Cookies n' creme flavored food while Jon is the one that actually loves them

Damian has beef with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles after losing a skate boarding race to them one time with Jon (a refrence to another headcanon of mines that's in a separate post)

Jon and Damian both cosplayed as Ashley and Leon from the Resident evil 4 remake one time for fun while going to a video game convention (Jon was dressed as Ashley while Damian was dressed as Leon)

Jon adores Damian's young little Nephew and Niece Mar'i and Jake and loves it whenever Dick is visiting with Kory and them at the Manor, because that's when he gets to see them both again all the time

Jon had one time gotten some chocolate milk spilled all over his shirt because of some new bullies who had done it to him during lunch time. Jon was very upset about it because it was his most favorite shirt that was just ruined, especially because of the worst fact that it was also currently picture day at his school, so he was gonna have to be forced to take his photo looking like this. Fortunately for him though, Damian had soon found him sitting down outside before photo time, as the young half Kryptonian was just in a distressed mood. After explaining everything to his best friend about what had happened to him earlier, Damian immediately got an idea and used his artistic skills to fix the problem by grabbing one of his black pens out of his backpack and drawing on top of the stains on Jon's shirt with it to make it look like it had actually belonged there. Once he was finally done, Jon's shirt looked surprisingly even better than before, with all of the line art that Damian had drew on it looking like an artistic peice of a pirate ship on the sea, making the chocolate stains look like the splashes of the seas water on the shirt. Jon happily thanked his best friend and gave him a tight hug in response, quickly running to go get his school photo taken soon after letting go of him. And while Jon was now busy doing that, Damian meanwhile went to go find the bullies that were messing with Jon to give them a little payback for what they had done to his best friend earlier and everything else that Jon had told him about. After that day, the bullies never bothered Jon again, which was kind of a surprise to him, especially with how unusually fearful they would always seem to be whenever interacting with him now. He has no idea why they currently act this way with him, but he doesn't mind it so much and is happier about it being this way instead anyways, since they leave him alone now (Another thing that had also surprised him was the fact that all three of the bullies had matching black eyes in their picture day photo in the school's yearbook as well. And after getting the chance to show them to Damian while in confusion about it, his best friend just shrugs his shoulders and says he wonders what it could've possibly been that had happened to them in response, while also seeming very "clueless" about it as well)

[tropes-and-tales]

Hi! If you do headcanons, can you do a Dating Ray Merrimen headcanon?

This is suitable for work!

Expect a long, long wait before you actually start dating.  Ray has no time for dating or relationships.  He’s not on any apps, and he certainly doesn’t want to be set up.  So when you drift through his life—maybe you’re a friend of Bosco’s girl—be prepared for the slowest of slow burns. 

It takes, let’s say…a month before Ray even notices that you’re hanging around with the crew.

It takes another month before he starts to remember your name.

Another month after that before you get the patented Ray Merrimen tip of the head in greeting each time you show up.

It is the slowest of slow burns.  You keep a little tally in your phone of how many words you exchange with Ray each time you see him.

You make a game of it.  Can you get Ray to answer you in more than a monosyllable?

The first time he finally does, you can’t help but laugh, and he narrows his eyes at you, not understanding the joke.

You know it’s a long shot with Ray.  You don’t get your hopes up—you still go on dates with guys you meet on the apps.  A few even tempt you into second and third dates, but no one can quite capture your imagination the way Ray does.

Even though you don’t seem to capture Ray’s imagination at all.  All of his brain power is consumed with bank schematics, armored van schedules, and planning his next heist.

But as much as you watch Ray and study him, you don’t really know him.

Case in point:  you assume he’s never thought about you, consumed as he is with his less-than-licit career.

You assume wrong.  Ray has been studying you on the sly too, and he noticed you the very first time you turned up.  Ray notices everyone, especially new folks, so when Bosco’s girl brought you around, he watched you and took in every single thing about you.

All those months when you felt invisible to him?  He was watching you, learning who you were. 

The thing is, Ray Merrimen is perfectly fine alone.  He prides himself on his discipline and self-control, and he is not the sort of man to chase a woman.

Instead, he sits back and watches and waits.  He studies you to see if you’re the sort of woman who can handle him.

All of this happens without you realizing.  You just think you’re a pining little idiot, so you’re surprised when you drink too much at one of Levoux’s parties and need a ride home.

“Don’t do that,” Ray tells you.  He takes your phone from your hand and cancels the ride-share you are trying to order.  “They don’t vet those drivers.”

The solution?  Ray drives you home. 

He’s quiet for most of it, but you’re a chatty drunk, so you talk and he listens, and you miss the little twitch at the corner of his mouth—his version of a smile.

He parks in front of your house, and he doesn’t leave until he sees your front door safely behind you.

The next time you see him, you thank him, and he tips you that same stoic nod in reply.

But you’re clued into him a bit now.  You’re falling into the same wavelength as Ray. 

Oftentimes, when you look across the room or across Bosco’s backyard, you see Ray watching you.

And when he catches you watching him, he tips that nod, gives the same small, tight corner-of-the-mouth smile.

When Mack celebrates his birthday at a club, you’re there in a dress that’s tight in the right places and short in the right places.

It draws a lot of male attention.

And Ray may pride himself on his self-control, but the absolute second he sees some fucking asshole eyeing you up, he’s at your side and refuses to move for the rest of the night.

Going to dance with your friend?  Ray lurks in the shadows right at the edge of the dance floor.

Going to the bathroom?  Ray walks you to the hallway and waits to escort you back.

Need another round?  Ray puts his hand on your lower back and gently ushers you there and back, and he lays down a crisp $20 to pay for it.

One of those fucking assholes eyeing you up?  He doesn’t get the message.  He keeps trying to sidle up to you, chat you up…

…until Ray wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in tight to him. 

It’s purely protective, and it raises an indistinct ache between your thighs to be held like this.  From no touch at all to this, Ray’s solid body shielding you, the clean scent of his body wash in your nose.

The night ends in another ride home from Ray. 

You’re tipsy, and this time?  He walks you to your door instead of staying in his car, but he doesn’t come in when you invite him.

“Next time,” he tells you.  “Be sure to drink lots of water.  Maybe take an ibuprofen before you go to sleep.”

He must see the blatant disappointment on your face, because he gives that small smile, then hooks a finger under your chin. 

He tilts your face up to him, and he bends his head to kiss you—the gentlest, softest brush of his lips against the corner of your mouth.

“Next time,” he repeats, and even though your head is spinning at even the tamest of kisses, it sounds like a promise.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

FICLET PROMPT!

New-ish boyfriends and Ed steals Stede’s t-shirt, maybe to sleep in? Maybe he just likes how it fits him? Anyway, he’s cute in it. 💖

Ooh thank you Kylie! This is such a cute prompt!

--

Let the record show: Ed Teach might've been a thief, but at least he was an honest one. And he'd honestly meant to give Stede his shirt back, he just...y'know, just kept putting it off a bit.

It had been the most picture-perfect first date Ed ever could've imagined. Ed was used to the pictures of him in full leather biker getup he put on dating apps drawing in the kind of guys who were allergic to commitment and expected Ed to be the hard-tough-bad boy type, but Stede had been interested in him based on a picture he'd added to the camera roll on complete accident. He'd fallen in love, he said, with a picture of Ed from his buddy Fang's last birthday party, smiling ear-to-ear with a pink party favor princess crown on his head and a dab of cupcake frosting on his cheek.

When Stede had invited Ed back to his place after dinner, Ed had accepted, of course - he wasn't sure he was ready for anything physical, and most of his relationships tended to fizzle out after that point anyway, but he wasn't about to risk turning Stede off. But they'd gotten caught in the rain with no umbrellas as they walked across the parking lot to Stede's apartment, Stede had lent him one of his shirts to wear, they'd had a picture-perfect night of movies and cuddles while Ed fell deeper and deeper into love with every passing second, and...

Yeah. Might've kept the shirt. Entirely, accidentally, of course.

It was an older t-shirt that Ed assumed Stede had gotten at one of the miserable work functions he'd told him all about. Stede was glad, he knew, to leave his father's company far behind, but the Bonnet Accounting t-shirt was well-worn and soft and faded and comfy. Stede was broader than Ed, so it sat on him too wide in the shoulders, giving it a deeper-looking neckline. It made Ed look small, small and safe, and he actually loved that, but the best part was that it smelled so much like Stede. Like warmth and security and lavender body wash and citrusy shampoo and Stede.

Once their relationship crossed the two-week mark and Ed had to admit to himself that he wasn't giving the shirt back, he decided that he'd keep it as a souvenir. When Stede inevitably got sick of Ed and dumped him, then he could bury his face in it and hug himself and pretend Stede was hugging him.

He already missed Stede's hugs, when he thought about that.

But the really amazing thing was that Stede wasn't showing any signs of getting fed up with Ed! They texted all day, and chatted for hours, and Stede loved the things guys usually hated, like Ed's sense of humor and his laugh and his collection of stuffed animals.

So, when Ed was feeling down with a cold near the three-week boyfriends mark and Stede offered to come over to check on him after work...Ed accepted. He honestly hadn't even consciously registered the decision to put the shirt on, he just knew that he felt bad and wanted comfort and it made him feel safe.

He opened the door, sniffly and mildlly feverish and wanting nothing more than a warm hug and some some affection - and Stede started grinning like Ed was personally responsible for hanging all the stars in the sky.

"What's funny?" Ed mumbled, waving him in.

Stede pecked a kiss on his cheek, then pressed a kiss to his forehead to check his temperature. "Nothing's funny. I was just wondering where that shirt went."

Ed froze. Blinked. Looked down.

"Would you believe," he said, "that I just happened to have an identical Bonnet Accounting t-shirt just, like, laying around?"

Stede laughed. Ed had had boyfriends break up with him over just touching their stuff before -

"I'm really sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean - you can have it back?"

"Oh, don't be sorry," Stede said, giving Ed a quick side-armed hug on his way to pop the container of soup he'd brought down on Ed's counter. "It looks good on you."

Ed sniffled, watching him warily. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Stede wrapped an arm around Ed's waist, holding him close. "You look really cute."

"I like that it smells like you," Ed admitted sheepishly, and Stede lit up like the fucking sun.

Stede probably excused how sniffly and teary Ed was that night as just being a bit sensitive from his cold, and Ed didn't know how to explain that he'd never known he could have a boyfriend like Stede until he found him.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Spiderband groupchat headcanons but it's based off my bio siblings and friends who're teenagers that i also consider my younger siblings because Y'all Do Not Know How To Write Teens

It's called 'Websters Declassified'

It was Margo's idea to start it obviously

Miles already had a groupchat app that she used for her family but the rest of the band except Gayatri had to install them-Gwen and Miles G DID have one but she took it off because she only ever used it with 65 Peter and she had multiple meltdowns looking through their messages so she forced herself to out of mental safety and he smashed his phone in agonized sadness after finding out about Jefferson so all the data on it was lost

Gayatri has an additional old one she uses for school friends since she's so popular and dosen't want to fuck up and accidentally send Spiderwoman stuff to them

The layout of it has a notebook theme and is popular among black people thanks to it containing various exclusive black stickers and emojis and that's why Miles and Margo both use it

Hobie's a bit of a grandpa when it comes to technology because of being from the 70s and not having been at Spider Society for that long so he had a hard time communicating in it at first,not helped by his cockney

Peni is reverse where she considers it slighty obselete thanks to her futuristic world but in a charming shaking her head 'This old thing' way(Just like she does with Noir /hj)

Their icons are:Miles-a black/blasian edit of Orihime Inoue,Gwen-A random picture of a half eaten pink cupcake she took,Peni-A lesbian flag meme,Pavitr-Bugs Bunny,Hobie-A black/blasian edit of Ichigo Kurosaki to match Miles(They are LITERALLY black4black Ichihime),Gayatri-Bugs Bunny but in one of her fem outfits,Margo-Nessa from Pokemon with a pink filter and Miles G-A cartoony drawing of a black kid with braids

They use it almost every day and night-It actually messed up a few of their sleep schedules but they fixed them again when it started going too far by reminding the other to go to sleep because they love them and deserve good health

Gwen sends them her audio files,either as gifts by covering their favorite songs or just to try out how a new song sounds

Pavitr violently falls over from so much bouncing with his phone getting the brunt of it SO many times but it's somehow always completely intact despite having no special protection

It's where Miles came out to them after her egg cracked but she did because they were all sitting together physically so she'd have them there to comfort them as she sobbed in a big flurry of different emotions

The other girls then start sending her transfem memes on a regular basis and Miles G is actually the one who made her her Orihime pfp

They tried to have movie nights but the collective audhd proved to be too much so they just have normal ones

It's incredibly active and a mixed ass bag,one second they be talking about Spiderjunk,the next someone's venting to the point you can feel them shaking through their texts and then they're discussing the history of legos

Peni's the one who most uses it in class and had a special mini comic where she got it back from her principal and didn't learned her lesson at the end

Since Miles uses kamojis,Margo is a gifs addict

They learned a lot about eachother cultures,more than ever

Selfies sending is a pretty regular thing

Miles G was more hesitant to start using his app again than Gwen since his was actually the same but he prowlered through and now it's a healthy and stable part of his life

Gayatri looks for wholesome videos to show all of them

"MARGO,GIVE ME YOUR PHONE"-Hobie at least twice a day

Gwen and Margo are an e-couple in the sense that they act exactly like girlfriends in it but are in denial irl

Hobie randomly infodumps in it once he gets the hang of it and takes up Miles' kamoji usage but only the smug/bitchy ones

Their usernames are mostly just their names but with a special twist to give them personality-Miles is her name with a sunflower next to it,Pavitr has a sparkles emoji and Miles G has his in that edgy font.But Margo is 'Margo Thee Byte',Gayatri is 'The Ungwen' as a reference to 'The Undead' and for irony,Hobie is 'What are you?A cop?',Peni is 'Pastel Genesis Evangelion' and Gwen is just an assortment of pink emojis

Rio:Mija?Are you texting a boy? Miles,texting Hobie:Technically yes but also literally no

Margo gets them to be on her streams and Miles ends up making her own channel and her fans nearly broke her comments section when Hobie made his first apperance(Tragic day for weird ass Miles fanboys)

Gwen and Peni start rubbing off on eachother,like Peni starting to love her kind of music and Gwen starting to get blunter

Pavitr is the most slang knowledgable and this is thanks to Gayatri-He surpassed the best there is

Miles and Hobie did the 'At Dairy Queen with my Dairy King' meme once but the picture wasn't them at Dairy Queen,it was them chilling with mutated cows they'd saved and they didn't even get the food at Dairy Queen,Hobie cooked them copies because fuck capitalism

[spnfanficpond]

Weekly Pond Newsletter

We are into August, and those of us in the Northern Hemisphere are just hot hot hot hot hot! We're tired of complaining about the heat and would like to complain about some cold, again. 🤣

Old Business:

Angel Fish Awards - The deadline to submit nominations and earn entries for July's raffle has been extended to tonight at midnight, EDT! (Honestly, Admin Michelle probably won't get to it until later than that, so there is some grace if you're still late.) It's a whole new list of prizes, so be sure to get your nominations in!

Giveaway in the Discord server - This weekend, we're giving away a copy of Self-Publishing Websites For Authors Who Want to Conquer the World by Will O'Shire. It's a funny and easy-to-read book on how to set up an author website and more! Drop a link in the giveaway channel to a fic featuring one of the main characters as a writer of any sort to earn an entry into the drawing! Deadline is midnight tonight EDT!

Fishing For Treasures - This weekend is FFT over at the @fanficocean! August's theme is Original Characters. Head over there to read fics with new characters and see how they interact with your old favorites! We will be celebrating FFT the 17th and 18th. The deadline to submit SPN fics with OC's to us will be midnight EDT on Friday the 16th. Submit links to the blog here or drop links in the #fishing-for-treasures channel in the Discord server!

Monthly Prompt for August - The prompt is up and it's Cat vs Dog!! Click here to see all the adorable fuzzies and get inspired!

New Member Spotlight - We got a ton of new members in July! So many, we needed to add a Keep Reading cut to the post! Click here to see the post and hopefully meet a new friend!

Last week's #TweetFicTues prompts -

New Business:

Manta Ray chat in the Discord server - Admin Marie will be hanging out to chat with everyone on Friday evening, 8pm EDT. Having trouble controlling your plot bunnies? Marie has a spray bottle for that! 🤣 Let her encourage you to finish your WIPs or distract you both from writing altogether by asking her what she's baking!

SPN Rewatch: FanFic Edition - On Saturday, we will chat at noon EDT about the next two episodes in our rewatch: 2.19 Folsom Prison Blues and 2.20 What Is and What Should Never Be. Why does Dean fit into prison life so well? Is it the same as how he became such a good PA in Hollywood Babylon or something else? In Dean's perfect life fantasy, why does his lawnmower have no blades? We'll ask these questions and more during our chat, so be sure to join us!

Competitive Writing Sprints - On Sunday next weekend, Manta Ray Arthur will be hosting a session of writing sprints at 2pm EDT in our Discord server. Add words to your WIP and win fabulous prizes!!

(Divider by @glygriffe!)

That's all for this week! To see all Pond events, and also other SPN-related things like conventions and online concerts, check out our Google calendar! Click here for a static view in Eastern US/Canada time (desktop only, no mobile app access, sadly), and click here to add our calendar to your own Google calendar! We try to keep it as up-to-date as possible. If there's something you want to see on the calendar that's not there (maybe a convention we missed, cast birthdays, or something similar), send us an ASK and let us know!

Hope you have a great week! - From your Admins and Manta Rays, @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, and @heavenssexiestangel!

[blue-disco-lights]

✨ Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨

Honored and delighted to be tagged by @heymacy @mybrainismelted @energievie @stocious @deedala

@spookygingerr @lingy910y @roryonic @mmmichyyy @sgtmickeyslaughter

@jrooc & @ardent-fox - thank you! i love these chances to get to know everyone better each week!

=======

name: julia

age: X=(Nosho)x2

your time zone: Pacific Standard Time (PST) / UTC -8 (it's a pleasure to hang out with you Australians on discord at night!)

what do you do for work? manage operations for a small agency

do you have any pets? a cat and a dog who are the most reluctant roommates and eat each other's food

what first drew you to this fandom? i was perusing the schitts creek subreddit in 2021 and someone recommended the show, specifically these mysterious mickey and ian characters. I was looking for a new show so in i went... and i have yet to emerge! This is really my first fandom and i can’t believe how nice and SO talented everyone here is!

are you a morning person or a night owl? for those of us who stay up late reading fics and then wake up early and read fics, this is a tricky question...

what are your hobbies? reading, galladrabbling, learning to draw a little, walking with audiobooks

how tall are you? 5' 6”-ish

if you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live? I’ve toyed with chicago, but considering how california i am, i’d probably freak out the minute the temp got below 45 degrees F (7 C?)

favorite color? aquamariney-blue

favorite book? tough question! one that comes to mind right now is Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine

favorite movie?  I can watch Pride & Prejudice (2005) anywhere anytime

favorite fic? Well this is basically impossible. None the Wiser, ORFNSP, You Deserve Good Things, Like Real People Do, and and and ...

favorite musical artist: new order & depeche mode, as this will answer the above age question for you

what is your average screen time so far this week? uhh… i do a lot of stuff on my phone ok??

what's the first app you open in the morning? instagram & discord

how long have you been on tumblr?  2 years

finally (and i know this one is hard) tell me a fun fact about yourself: there’s a chance i might still be able to do a cartwheel

=====

(note: tumblr is glitching and can only tag 5 people per line!) I'm late today, but I shall still tag you

@krysmiss @suzy-queued @palepinkgoat @ms-moonlight-inn @mickeysgaymom

@tv-obssessions @astaraels @too-schoolforcool @bawlbrayker @deathclassic

@transmurderbug @ian-galagher @sandrashaine @francesrose3 @doshiart

@jademickian @piefrans @sweetbee78 @vintagelacerosette @gillyp

@gembu-tortuesouscafeine @heymrspatel @jessieoneday @callivich @look-i-love-u

@creepkinginc and anyone who I've missed and would like to play!

[northstarco]

─── I CAN'T SEE THE STARS HERE

⟡﹐ꊞ inside niko's phone !

⟡﹐ꊞ similarly to most of us, niko is absolutely chained to his phone, but in the most ironic way possible, is also pretty chronically offline. he hasn't gone through many phones in his lifetime, mostly because he doesn't change his phone until it's hanging on it's last breath and can no longer charge. for almost five years straight he had the same iphone 10, then the screen broke forever, which finally pushed him in the direction of getting a new phone (much to the dismay of taeyong, who had been nagging him to get a new phone since the first few cracks started showing). ever since the death of his former phone in late 2021, he got the iphone 11 pro and has stuck with it for the past three years, somehow without cracks appearing on the screen.. but it probably won't take long for that to be the case. jungwoo has already dropped it a handful of times, and considering niko's track record, the phone will barely be functioning in weeks time.

a thing that is synonymous with every phone case niko has had is the stars he draws onto them with sharpie all the time. he gets a clear phone case, grabs a sharpie, and doodles everything of interest. he pairs the tiny drawings with the endless stickers he collects (or the ones his friends from back home send, he has a bunch he still hasn't used). there's a barrage of stars, cats, hearts, and planets you can make out on niko's phone case. just like phones, he usually never switches phone cases, it's just until he wants to do something else and there's no more space on his see through phone case. still, his phone cases usually stay the same for up to a year or sometimes even more, he doesn't really get bored by them.

another thing that is very consistent with niko's phone is his lock and homescreen, it's just susi. sometimes it changes, sometimes he has a mood flip and his lockscreen will become an old photo his mom took back in 2009, but usually, it's susi. it's not unknown that niko is pretty obsessed with his cat, 'a little too obsessed' is what johnny says whenever he taps the other's phone to check the time and comes face to face with a feline. even when he does change his lock or homescreen, it's simply another picture of susi, maybe a small sight of his finger in the photo, but that's it, nothing too interesting. the inside of his phone is a mess, but it's also sort of organized in a sense.. his apps are all in a very specific place that he placed for a reason, and if they aren't, he will literally go insane. while he purposefully avoids certain apps, he has an insane amount of hours on all those app games. namely stardew valley, solitaire (because no one plays card games in real life anymore), and shattered pixel dungeon. he is not that difficult to entertain, especially in the mobile game department.

social media.. well that's definitely something. niko is pretty inactive, especially on instagram, which is something people have learned to get used to over the years. it's actually a miracle whenever niko posts on instagram, but even then, nctzens are just concerned if he's alive or not. he pops in every few comebacks to remind people that he is in fact, not dead! just forgot his password and didn't bother to try changing it. he often deletes instagram every few months because it takes up storage (which is often due to the shitload of photos he refuses to delete), but then he suddenly has an epiphany and redownloads the app, just to again abandon it until he finds something abrupt to post. he is regularly active on bubble, but even then it's nctzens making sure he's alive and him reminding them that he's barely hanging on! when niko does post on instagram, it's almost always a photo of him and susi, or some of his non idol friends, or just photos of himself he really likes, sometimes he just posts a photo of what his shirt says and calls it a day. there's an abundant lack of selfies on his instagram, most of the photos of him taken being credited to kihyun or one of his other friends.

his camera roll is pretty on par for what you might think, there are just so many fucking photos on there that it's a wonder the guy is so inactive on instagram. there are photos of susi, himself, random pictures he took of doyoung that he did not delete! but the older doesn't have to know that.., his shirts with random catchphrases, and a collection of selfies kihyun took when he left his phone unattended while the younger was in the room (photos he did not delete in fear of having to face constant whines from the vocalist). his gallery is huge, sometimes he just takes pictures of things he finds aesthetically pleasing, and simply doesn't delete them. he has never really been interested in photography as a hobby, he just loves taking random photos of things (and by proxy people) that he finds interesting. it's really a strange case because you'll see a photo that seems completely normal then suddenly there's a random photo of vernon in the mix, just don't question him on it, he doesn't really want to explain the lengths his photo gallery goes.

 ✰ the photo gallery , recents

to sum this all up, niko's phone is just everything that makes up his personality. it's not as aesthetically pleasing, no, but it's simply so.. niko. with a gallery that spans so many photos it should actually be illegal, his social media apps pretty much collecting dust, the astounding hours he spends playing card games (games he definitely does not find entertaining please believe him), it's safe to say that it's a mess, but just like niko's own room, as is with many aspects of his life, it's a mess that perfectly exemplifies everything about him.

[justalonelyslytherin]

Legacies | Eight

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Kazansky!OC

Summary: .Ana is left reeling and coping with her father's diagnosis while the mission draws ever nearer. Will she be able to concentrate on the mission? Or will there be another curve ball throwing her off her path?

Warnings: military inaccuracies, lots of swearing, almost/mentioned physical fight and violence, mentions of dying and being killed, mentions of parental death/parental loss

Wordcount: 3k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don’t allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don’t steal my work.

A/N: This is a chapter I'm nervous about posting because you might hate me ^^'. Jake's an ass in this - which in my defense: I'm only using and enhancing what the movie provided us with. He'll also get his redemption & explanation of why he acts like that later on &lt;;3

Taglist: open, message me or comment to be added, will be put as reblog

The menacing blare of the alarm rebounded in her ears even long after the actual noise had stopped. Yet the memory of it kept replaying in Ana’s mind over and over. She couldn’t shake it. Accompanying the noise were images of her simulation flight.

Her failure.

Because that’s how it had gone. She’d failed. Majorly. The curves had been too tight and her reactions just seconds too slow. There had been no other way but to swerve and dodge the oncoming – real – mountain she’d careened toward. In doing so she had crossed the mission's margin, climbing right into the SAMs radius.

She was angry at herself, mad she’d screwed it up so badly. Had it been only her attempt, she wouldn’t have minded it so much but she’d pulled Omaha and Halo into it as well. Which was so much worse. 

And while Ana was sure sweet Bob and fierce but equally uplifting Phoenix would have told her that anyone before her had failed their run-through as well, she didn’t want to hear it.

Even worse than the feeling of failure had been Maverick’s look of disappointment. Ana barely managed to look at him. While he hadn’t said anything that he hadn’t told the other aviators too, it felt much more personal. She’d glimpsed it in his eyes, there had been this unmistakable look. Remembering it made her sick to her stomach.

Knowing no one had managed to even reach the end of the course without crashing into a simulated mountainside or crossing into the SAMs range should have been a comfort, had it been true. But it wasn’t and the debrief would only solidify this.

The group of aviators was filing into the classroom to take their seats. Ana slowly trudged along the gaggle of people, nowhere near paying attention. She felt weary with her shoulders hanging low, every other step careened dangerously outward to the side in an almost stumble.

If it had been only the training with its demanding parameters and exhausting conditions, she would have been able to stomach it but there was one more thing: Her father’s condition. 

The news heavily weighed her down. She couldn’t help but worry and it was this incessant worrying that distracted her from the fast-approaching mission. 

Her father seemed to have come to terms with his imminent passing but Ana had a hard time accepting that this would be the end. How was one supposed to be alright knowing their loved one’s time was limited and the end was rapidly approaching?

She could barely handle the thought. The news had thrown her into a deep and dark pit of despair, leaving her lost.

Surprise crossed her face and her head snapped up when a hand connected with the small of her back, gently guiding her forward and past the rows of chairs. Glancing to the side revealed none other than Jake steering her intently toward the first row. She let him lead her, her dragging feet slowly picking up speed to match his. 

At the front row, he nudged her toward the chairs. Patiently Jake waited until she sat down in the aisle seat before he took the one beside her. He didn’t say anything, in fact, he didn’t even look at her anymore. She understood the gesture nevertheless. She was thankful for it.

While he was still Hangman, and he made sure she didn’t forget it during work, something between them had shifted. 

He was the only one that knew. Not even Bradley knew and they were like siblings. She couldn’t tell Rooster and neither could she tell Maverick. They were too involved, too close. They couldn’t be thrown off their paths as well. At least they should be able to concentrate on the mission ahead.

Yet it still was a relief to have someone know. It made it easier to act like everything was alright in front of the others.

—

Maverick didn’t waste any time ripping into Rooster who had just finished his simulation run. Their run distinguished itself from the others in one detail. Even if Maverick was keen on ignoring it. 

Harvard and Yale had accompanied him but nonetheless Maverick singled Bradley out.

“Why are you dead?” He asked Rooster as the young aviator sat up in his chair and looked straight ahead toward their instructor. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Ana could see him build himself up, ready to take on everything that Maverick would throw in his face. She hoped they wouldn’t goad each other up again as they had done during the dogfight.

“You are team leader up there. Why are you– why is your team dead?”

It wasn’t Rooster that spoke up but Phoenix. She sat beside Ana on the opposite side of the center aisle. Most of the aviators had been sitting passively in their chairs, waiting for Maverick’s rant to pass and so had she done it. But now, with her fist previously hiding her frown the dark-haired female aviator couldn’t stay still anymore.

“Sir, he’s the only one who made it to target.” 

And this was the one detail that distinguished Rooster from all the other aviators gathered in the room. He had reached the end of their simulation. He had reached their target.

“A minute late,” Maverick noted with a sigh, biting on no less harshly than before, “He gave enemy aircraft time to shoot him down. He is dead.” 

Ana knew why her godfather critiqued him so harshly. The mission was dangerous as it is, risking a confrontation with enemy aircraft was something they couldn’t afford. No matter what had happened between them, Maverick still cared for Rooster. Perhaps even more so because of what happened.

“You don’t know that.”

Rooster couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see that Mavericks' much harsher treatment towards him wasn’t because of any ill feelings from their instructor but because of his incessant need to keep him safe. Bradley would never want it, he would never allow Maverick to protect him – not after what had happened – but that wouldn’t stop their superior from trying to do so either way. 

“You’re not flying fast enough,” Hangman sounded condescending as he butted in, barely glancing at Rooster one row behind Phoenix. 

It was a quick defiant look, one that cemented itself on Rooster’s face as he turned back to Maverick and reiterated,

“We made it to the target.” It was a clear dig, a bone thrown out for the feral dog.

And Maverick took it without hesitancy. He was slowly getting fed up, perhaps it was the intense need to keep Bradley safe that spurred him on. Taking a step toward the aviators, he leaned forward. His stern look centered on Rooster alone.

“And superior enemy aircraft intercepted you on your way out.”

There was no way Rooster would be backing down. Ana realized how quickly this was leading up to another fight between the two. One that was far more personal than the discussion of the flight simulation. There was a heavy insinuation underlining their words. 

“Then it’s a dogfight.” Rooster blew the last straw to crush Maverick’s composure.

“Against fifth-generation fighters!” 

"Yeah. We’d still have a chance.” It surprised Ana how relaxed Rooster’s words were. She knew that behind his laid-back attitude, his insides were bubbling with hurt and anger.

Able to feel the tension having almost reached its peak between the duo the other aviators in the room looked away, uncomfortable with the situation at hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Phoenix pursing her lips as she looked down to avoid the men’s argument she was pinned between.

“In an F-18,” Maverick’s voice was full of skepticism, and without knowing he had raised his voice. Rooster followed, his voice growing in volume and bite.

“It’s not the plane, sir, it’s the pilot.” Ana closed her eyes and pressed her lips together as much as she could. She knew where this was heading and she dreaded all of it.

“Exactly.”

Maverick’s single word rebounded through the room, suddenly cloaked in silence. Everyone held their breaths. 

Now the bomb had been dropped. The damage was done and irreversible.

“There’s more than one way to fly this mission.”

It was a weak attempt of Rooster to have the last word. Maverick’s assertion had him, judging from the distinct waiver of his voice that made Ana’s heart clench. She hurt for both of them, she hurt for them hurting – and they definitely were, as their faces were barely hiding the guilt and hurt. She felt powerless to change the outcome or their stances. From the beginning, there had been nothing she could have done to aid them in conciliating, even if she longed for the ability to do so.

“You really don’t get it.”

Her eyes jumped to the other side. Jake was looking forward neither toward Rooster nor Maverick. He sounded relaxed like the tension in the air didn’t affect him at all.

“Jake,” was her warning for him to not get involved and make it worse. 

“On this mission, a man flies like Maverick here or a man does not come back.” Now he eyed Maverick. Silently Jake took in the guilt-stricken face of their instructor. Did he enjoy it? 

Just like Ana, Jake knew there was more to this than the discussion of technique applied to the mission. It was so much more than that.

To diffuse the moment, or to add more fuel to the already stoked fire, Jake turned towards Phoenix, “No offense intended.” 

Bob, who sat beside Phoenix and consequently peered behind her to glare at the blonde, murmured with an acidity Ana had never heard from the otherwise shy and quiet aviator, “Yet somehow you always manage.” 

Her heartbeat picked up as everything loomed to spin out of control. Jake’s lips quipped upwards as he turned to her, no not to her, to Rooster. 

“Jake.” Once more Ana hoped to stop him, to get him to focus on her instead of adding insult to the situation. And once more her attempt fell on deaf ears.

“Look, I don’t mean to criticize. You’re conservative, that’s all.” Ana glanced towards Maverick, hoping he would be able to stop the blonde. But her godfather had his eyes cast toward the ground.

“Lieutenant,” with a  weary sigh he looked up. But Jake didn’t listen even to their instructor at that moment. 

“We’re going into combat, son, on a level no livin’ pilot’s ever seen,” now he looked back, directly at Maverick and added, “Not even him.”

Maverick looked at Jake both surprised and caught off guard by the direct hit of the young pilot.

“That’s no time to be thinking about the past.” 

Ana’s blood ran cold. A chill crept over her back as her head snapped towards Hangman at her side. There was a deep etched frown on her face as she eyed him. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Would he? 

“Don’t do this,” Ana pleaded – begged? – for him to stop, her fingers dug into the plush armrests of the chair. 

He wouldn’t listen. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Rooster,” Maverick, sensing where this was going to go, tried to pull Rooster’s attention back on him.

“I can’t be the only one that knows Maverick flew with his old man.” Ana sat up straighter in her chair. A cold feeling of dread washed over her. She knew exactly what Hangman was playing at, what he was about to do – to say. 

“That’s enough–” It was one more fickle attempt by Maverick to stop the inevitable. 

“–or that Maverick was flying when his old man–” before Hangman could finish the sentence Rooster had sprung from his chair and charged across the room. 

Chaos broke out in the room, clamoring and shouts filled the space as everyone raced to go in between the two men. In a matter of seconds, everyone had clumped around the two, multiple hands were pulling Rooster back as he was seething.

“Lieutenant, that's enough. Hey!” Maverick shouted over everyone, as their frantic voices had mixed into an indistinguishable mess. Rooster was hellbent on ripping himself free and physically fighting Hangman. He could be barely stopped.

Ana had never seen the man this crazed and out of his mind. It unsettled her as she practically stood between the two fractions. Sitting before Hangman, closer to the middle aisle, she’d put herself between the two of them upon standing up. Now she had one hand firmly pressed against Hangman’s chest to keep him back and out of reach and one hand stretched out towards Rooster.

“Bradley!” Even her voice couldn’t carry through to him, no matter how alarmed and warning she sounded, he was too blindsided by his rage.

“You son of a bitch!” His enraged shout trumped over them all. While Bradley was out for blood, Hangman on the other hand was calm as one could be. 

He shrugged off the multiple hands on him with a simple, “I’m cool, I’m cool. Hey.” All except for Ana’s hand. She was quicker than him in slapping his hand away and followed the motion up with a hard shove against his sternum. 

“That’s enough,” Maverick demanded, still mostly concentrating on Rooster. Ana kept glaring at Hangman. He didn’t spare her even one glance. She was fuming, silently willing him to finally keep quiet but of course he couldn’t.

“He’s not cut out for this mission.” With that Hangman pulled everyone’s attention back towards him, just as Rooster seemed to have calmed down enough to not jump the blonde any moment.

“And neither are you.” Ana’s cold, shaky words cut through the air. “You are even less cut out for the mission,” she jabbed, taking a step closer to the blonde. Her finger bore square into his chest.

“You have no concept of teamwork. You don’t know how to play nice or work together with someone. How the hell do you think you are anywhere close to being cut out for this mission when you could be the reason all of us wouldn’t make it back.

Leaving your team behind is as bad as being too hesitant.

I’m not going to watch you kill yourself up there because you can’t work with someone else for once.

Nor am I going to watch you be the reason one of us won’t make it back home.”

The words poured out of her one after another, each sentence more stinging, more personal, and more damaging. Hangman’s facade was a strong one but his eyes betrayed him. Too bad that in her own whirling, burning rage Ana couldn’t see. The hurt that flashed through his eyes, the quick breakthrough of Jake was entirely unnoticed by her. Much like the other aviator's reactions all around her.

Barely having said the last words and with her chest still heaving from both the exertion and the adrenaline of the moment, she turned around. There was not one person that didn’t step out of her path as she stormed off, down the middle aisle and right out of the room.

As if nothing happened just now, Hangman acted indifferent as he stepped forward. 

“You know I’m right.” 

His focus shifted only briefly to Maverick before he eyed up Rooster once more. Stepping nose to nose with the brown-haired male Hangman slipped past, waltzing out of the classroom in a much more relaxed way. 

Neither Ana nor Hangman were left when Maverick dismissed the rest of the group.

Ana was on her way storming through the hallway, less angry but still fuming. Her boots thudded against the floor in quick succession. She couldn’t put enough distance between herself and the classroom fast enough. Unbeknownst to her, Hangman was in close pursuit, quickly catching up to her breezing through the halls. 

“Ghost.” His voice was like an electric current shooting through her. A thousand tiny knives nicked her skin, agitating her further. 

“Ana!” She’d never heard him call her by her name before. Now it sounded urgent and too close for her comfort. 

In a matter of seconds, a hand wrapped around her biceps and pulled her back. Her back collided with the wall with a soft thud. Before she could even react, Hangman had caged her in with his arms, looming over her. He was so close that their noses nearly touched.

“Fuck off,” she hissed between bared teeth, glaring at him with as much venom as she could. He wouldn’t budge.

“You are lower than the lowest scum, do you know that? Bringing this up and using it against him! How dare you?”

“I only stated facts.” The calm, stern way in which he spoke with her frustrated her. There was the cold, emotionless mask that was Hangman. He was guarded and entirely closed off. 

“Yeah, right,” Ana scoffed.

“He wasn’t ready and you know it too.”

“Just like everyone else! None of us are ready for this mission and yet Rooster still has the best shot at surviving the flight to the target. And it gives you no reason to bring up their past!”

“It does if–” 

“–Oh cut the crap, Hangman. I don’t want to hear it!” She didn’t want to hear his excuses and even less so his twisted explanations. What could make him think it was okay to say something like that? Done listening to him and even more so done with being in his proximity, Ana shoved him off her. Hangman went pliantly, his feet shuffled backward as she freed herself from the corner he’d created with his body. 

She glared at him furiously once more, her intensity beginning to fray at the edges. Finding herself locked in a staredown with Hangman, the tension felt higher than even before in the room. Scoffing one last time Ana shook her head and ultimately turned around to march off down the corridor.

There was nothing that could turn the situation around at that moment. Nothing could make it better. The best way was to create distance. Between her and him.

Hangman remained standing in the hallway, hands balled into fists and face twisted into an angry sneer. 

“Damnit,” he roared, punching the wall beside him. His muscles were tense as he ground his teeth together. 

“It does count if it is what holds them back and distracts them from the mission.”

[osatokun]

Hey, do you mind if I ask what your process is for drawing scenes/rooms? They have such a nice flow and soft feeling to them that I admire so much. My own scenes get a very stiff and naked-looking perspective, and I'd like to improve on that.

Hello! Thank you! <3 For complicated perspective shots I use very basic 3d models, it helps a lot in figuring out the right angle. I'm not good with perspective myself and I have too many ideas that needs to jump over my head and do it FAST before inspiration fades. So this is the good tool. (obviously, I start with thinking out the idea and composition first, and then figuring out perspective. The app is called design doll)

Then I sketch over

then *draw the damn owl* XD

The biggest part is to think about characters on the picture, where they are, what they like, what are they doing etc. This exact picture is a small celebration of ressurection of that little pink bear-chimera. All of the kids are living hard life, more or less they are all warriors (a werewolf, 2 changelings (and Glinda) and a vampire, Prince's adopted daughter).But Charlie want to let them be kids as long as they can. And then the details comes from the understanding of the characters. Werewolf kid has 2 boxes of noodles (and probably finishing up 3rd) because they eat A LOT and use a ton of energy. Vampire kid has no food because vampires rarely can eat food, Charlie is a special bean. They left a bun for Charlie because he doesn't like to eat much (he doesn't need too), but still enjoys the taste and sharing meal. He is busy changing plates and washing tho. There are werewolf's hoodie on the chair and a backpack, because it's Charlie's and Glinda's home, everyone but Monica are guests. There are coffee machine because Glinda works A LOT during the day and also wants to hang out with her new found family at nights. Each syrup bottle picked according to Glinda's and Monica's taste. a ton of frogs stuff- Glinda loves them. An unfinished painting-the abandoned woods in Umbra. Halloween lights-it's Charlie's favorite holiday. Little duck - one of the first things Charlie saw when he first come to Glinda's house (it sit in the sink, drifting in pink colored water). A bouquet of raspberry - Charlie gave it to Glinda in the first days of dating to impress her ( he also thought it had a good symbolism). he killed people to get this bouquet (no joke!!) I'm sorry, I got carried away! But if your question was only about perspective, you have the answer!