#maxi being so vulnerable here lmao

[jacobseed]

trembling hands

pairing: simon "ghost" riley/maxine sinclair warnings: angst, mentions of parental abuse, dealing with grief words: 1.4k

another one from the drafts. this was a full length version of this short fic prompt @imogenkol sent me from a while ago... anyways wow i just had to make this sad.

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Funerals were an occasion Maxine wasn’t accustomed to. When she was younger she might’ve been to a few, for family she didn’t know, but nothing that stood out to her of significance. At the time, it didn’t feel like much- just a child dragged to another place where she was meant to keep herself busy while the adults did what they had to. She was sure she had been to her brother's funeral, she wonders if she had been to her mother's. 

As an adult, she’s seen death in a hospital and on the battlefield, leading to services she felt uncomfortable attending - as if she doesn’t belong. As if she were at fault.

Today was something different. 

Piper had shown up to her apartment a week ago, emotionless and quiet, handing her an envelope with her name on it. Inside was a letter from their aunt, stating that their father had passed away and they would be holding a funeral back home. Making it known that they should attend the service.

While her sister said she didn’t want to attend, she did at the insistence of Maxine, who said she wanted to finally be rid of the memories and source of pain in her past. Yet, now that she was here, sitting in their old church with a flower covered casket in the center, the sun hitting it through the windows as if it was the radiance of God, she felt nothing but grief. 

Even though Angus Sinclair had hated his daughters for the single fact that they could never replace the son he had lost, she had hoped one day he may have changed his mind. Despite having feared him for her whole childhood living in his house- fearing his rage and drunken anger and senseless abuse- she had wanted a father who loved her. And she hated more than anything that she wanted that from him. She spent her whole life despising him and herself for feelings she couldn’t understand.

Now he was gone- leaving her feeling empty and alone. Until the very end, to his dying breath, he had not cared for the daughters he left behind. 

“We should’ve never come back here. Look at all these fake people- if one more relative I don’t know tells me they are sorry for my loss, I’m liable to go insane.” 

Piper doesn’t hide her disdain and reluctance to be here. She seems more bored and annoyed than remorseful. No, she seemed almost relieved. Maxine watches her carefully and wonders if she’s just bottling it all up, just as she was. She wonders if this didn’t affect her even a little bit.

“I’m happy the bastard is dead. Hope he rots in hell.”

Maxine places a gentle hand over her sisters and holds it tight. “Pip, please. Let’s just get this over with so we can go home.” 

A short sigh leaves Piper before she takes another look. “Maxi, are you alright?”

No. There was nothing about any of this that was alright. Whatever good she felt would come out of this trip was nowhere in sight and she shouldn’t have entertained the idea of showing up. She wishes her aunt hadn’t sent that letter at all. Both of them would’ve been happy going on with their lives never knowing if their father was dead or alive.

But she couldn’t cry from this overbearing emotion of despair- not here and certainly not in front of these people who never wanted them. Not in front of her older sister who had been her sole source of happiness and love- caring for and raising her when their father refused. 

“I just want to go home.” 

The rest of the day went by in a blur, most leaving Maxine alone in her seat as she stared at the casket covered in flowers for a man unworthy of their beauty. A man who did not deserve to be remembered in this way. She was surprised anyone could recognize the daughters of the deceased, but she was sure their aunt had something to do with that - neither of them had returned home in the ten years after they left. Even then, it was hard to remember people that were never around to begin with. 

After the service, they stayed the night in an inn, refusing the offer to stay at their father’s home to clean out what they wanted. They wanted nothing to remember him by. Maxine couldn’t sleep and stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought. When morning arrived, they packed up and took the long journey back to London. 

However, before she knew it, she was staring up at her apartment building. Piper was watching her carefully with eyes full of concern and she took her sister's hand in hers. “Maxi.” Piper pulls her attention back. “Do you want to come stay with me for a bit?” 

“No.” Maxine answers softly as if she doesn’t trust her own voice. “I want to be alone tonight.” She notices the worry in her gaze and she forces a smile. “I’m alright, Pip. I’m just going to sleep.”

However, inside her quiet apartment, she sits in the dark for hours, watching a light outside the window flicker. And as the rain comes, she watches as it runs down the glass in streaks. Her phone lights up every so often, dimly illuminating the space around her, but she pays it no mind as her thoughts cloud.

A knock at the door startles her from the darkness and she shifts slightly to listen, as if she possibly imagined it. As if she were a child again and she waited to hear her father’s boots thumping against the hardwood, towards her room. The knock comes again, a little louder than before and Maxine jumps to her feet, glancing at the room around her as if she were looking for something - anything - to save her. 

From the other side came a familiar voice she hadn’t heard in a while and her panic subsided. “Sinclair, open up.”

She rushes to swing the door open and immediately searches for him. “Simon? What are you doing here?” 

One look tells him everything he needs to know as he pushes his way inside. He keeps the lights off - he doesn't need them to know where she is- her breathing uneven as she holds back her sorrows gives away her position. “You weren’t answering your phone.” He speaks low and pulls off his mask. “Your sister told me everything.” 

Silence settles over them again and his hand brushing against her cheek sends a shiver down her spine. She’s worried he’s going to say he’s sorry for her loss. She’s not sorry. She shouldn’t be sorry. So why does it feel like she lost something she never had? 

“It’s okay.” He whispers, swiping away tears from her face with his thumbs.

Maxine doesn’t know when she started crying, but it’s impossible to stop now as she sobs. He was the last person she wanted to see her like this, and yet, she was thankful to him for showing up. The thought of being alone scared her and there was no guilt with him in the way she felt towards her sister. 

With trembling hands she couldn’t still, Maxine reached out for him. and with firm determination he holds them steady in his own, pulling her closer.

“Breathe, Maxi.” Ghost whispers evenly, voice unshaken. “I've got you now. Breathe.”

She does as he says and takes a slow deep breath and as she exhales her head falls against his chest. His presence is a comfort she never wanted to covet, but his warmth and care was enough for her to want him all to herself.

Although she was confused by his sudden display of compassion, Maxine felt herself sink into his arms and silently prayed to whatever God was listening to allow her to find the salvation she needed from her grief. Simon Riley was no God, but he held onto her tightly and his gentle lips against her head felt like a clear answer to her prayers. 

And as her breathing slowed and her eyes stung from the tears, she found herself asking him to stay with her and wasn’t ashamed as they moved to the couch and she laid against his chest. Fears of her past coming to her the moment she closed her eyes were laid to rest as she realized she was only thinking of the man who held her. Of his warmth and his safety and the heavy beating of her heart.

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taglist: @strangefable @statichvm @tommyarashikage @risingsh0t

@anoramactir @firstaidspray @carrionsflower @josephzeppeli @pitchmoss

@pavus @florbelles @thedeadthree @roberthouse69 @carlosoliveiraa

@shellibisshe @jamessunderlandgf @g0dspeeed

[taglist opt in]

[magma-queen]

I got into a crazy writing mood after writing that fix yesterday, so here’s some Hardenshipping fluff that no one asked for! 🤣 Enjoy! This was inspired by the brilliant @ticklepinions

“Maaaaaaaax..” Archie groaned, collapsing on their bed, head first. “Maaaaax…”

“Oh, for the love of God, Archie..” Maxie sat up, whacking him on his back with his book. “I am RIGHT HERE. What is it that you need?”

“Ubbles.” He said, muffled from laying against the mattress and covers.

“Uh, one more time?”

Archie twisted himself around and laid on his back, reaching his hand out to his husband.

“Cuddles. Now.”

Maxie smirked at him. “Well, why didn’t you just say so, then?” He scooted himself over to his side of the bed. “Come here, you big softy.”

Excitedly, he hopped over next to him and practically melted, enjoying his husband’s attention and loving touch. He laid his head in his lap.

“What the hell has gotten into you tonight? I’m used to you being all cuddly, but not THIS cuddly.” He blushed. “N-not that I’m complaining. Is there something wrong, Archie?”

“Nah..” he replied. “M’ just stressed out, that’s all.. I just needed some quality cuddle time with me hubby.”

Maxie chuckled. “I see.” He pet his head affectionately, then stroked his chin like a Skitty.

“M-Maxie!” Archie squeaked. “Ack- No! Bwahaha! Stop it!”

He raised an eyebrow. “But why? You look like you’re having so much fun~” He teased, keeping up the tickly touches at his husband’s neck and chin.

“Gahahahaha-!” He scrunched his neck up, pushing Maxie’s hands away. “Quit it!”

*chuckle* “At least I get a smile from you.”

Blushing, Archie sat back up, got into the covers, and wrapped his arms around Maxie’s waist, returning the cuddles.

“Mmm… Yer so damn warm…”

“I’ve literally spent most of my life near volcanoes, Archie. But you love it, anyway.”

Archie guffaws. “I sure as shit do..” He held him closer to his chest. “Hey, Max..?”

“Yes, Archie?” He questioned, looking up at him with curiosity.

His grip on him was gentle, but tighter.

“I know this is gonna sound really random… but I gotta tell ye… yer just like a stress ball.”

While he was telling him this, Maxie was grabbing a cup of water. (Yes. Water lmao) and he almost spit it out.

“*cough* A-A what??”

“A stress ball.” Archie repeated.

He just tilted his head in more confusion. “Archie, love of my life, I don’t understand. How am I like a stress ball? *snicker* I don’t stress myself out THAT much.”

“Well… it’s because ye calm me down every time I’m stressed.”

“Oh. I see. How sweet of you to say.”

Archie then smirked. “But….”

???

Maxie knew what the look on his face meant. “What are you-“

“Heh.. the only difference between ye and a real stress ball…” He grasped both of his sides.

“AAAEEEE!!!”

“Is that ye squeak when I squeeze ye!” He cackled, continuing to squeeze his sides.

“N-Nohohohohohoho! Dohohohohon’t!!” He fell back giggling, trying to squirm out of Archie’s arms. Ahahahaharchihihihihie!!!” He squawked, flailing back and forth.

“Haha! I gotcha!” He teased, pinning him down and squeezing his hips next. “Yer beautiful laugh is what puts me at ease, babe.”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA!! AHAHARCHIHIHIHIE!! ST-STAHAHAHAHA-!” He wrapped his arms around his stomach, cackling.

“Mm? What was that, babe?” He teased, nuzzling his beard into his neck while squeezing his sides once more. “Didn’t hear ye. What did ye want?”

“STAHAHAHAP!! ST- *SNOOOOOOOORT*

Archie immediately halted, devious fingers pulling away from Maxie. His mouth was open wide, in shock and amusement. Maxie on the other hand was HORRIFIED and slapped his hand against his mouth.

“What… was that..?”

Maxie’s face turned beet red, and he covered his face with his hands. “N-Nohohothing!! J-Just stop!! You’re embarrassing me!”

He smirked even more. “Didn’t sound like nothin’.. I think I wanna hear that again.” He said as he dove his fingers up his husband’s armpits.

“ACK- GAAAAAAAH!!!! NOOOOHOHO ARCHIE GOD DAHAHAHAHAHAMN IHIHIHIHIHIT!!! AAAAAH!! NOHOHOHO!! *SNORT* ST-STAHAHAHAHOP!!!”

“Oh my god.” Archie was almost in tears, his husband was so fucking cute. He gave his hips another squeeze.

“F-FUHUHUHUHAHAHACK!!! *SNORT* AAAAAHAHAHAHA!!!! *snort snort* STOP!! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!!” He begged, arching his back and trying to wriggle his skinnier body away. No such luck. (Suffer, nerd)

“Hehe.. what’s the matter, Max? Ticklish?” Archie chuckled, easing his tickles a bit so he could answer him. “There’s no way that the leader of Team Magma could be this ticklish.”

“Lehehehehet mehehehe go, Archihihie…” He gasped, clenching his hands at his wrists, thinking that it will stop Archie from tickling him further.

News flash, it won’t. (Lmao)

“Or ehehelse…”

He smirked at Maxie and kissed his forehead. “Or else what, Max? You can’t stop the tickle monster, never can, never will.” He growled, tightening his grip on him, near ready to pounce again. “Damn, ye look so precious like this… I love ye so much..”

This embarrassed the Magma leader to no end. He thanked God that no one could see him so vulnerable, well… except Archie. He struggled, but it was no use. Archie was too strong and he was too weak.

“Me little stress ball~” The Aqua purred, nuzzling his beard into his neck once more, and giving his sides one more gentle squeeze, making Maxie squirm even more.

“No- St-Stohohohohop!” He giggled, trying to turn his head away from his rough, fuzzy beard. “A-Archie-! Hehehehehehe-!”

“Aww, c’mon… Don’t be like that… Ye know ye love my rough beard~ *nuzzle*

The man could only choke out giggles from his mouth, and at this point, he’s completely given up on trying to escape. He was too exhausted. Archie added kisses, which definitely did NOT help it tickle less.

“Hahahahaha- hehehehe A-ARCHIE! No!! Th-Thahahahahat tickles-!”

After a good while, he finally stopped, letting Maxie breathe.

“Ye alright, hun?” Archie finally asked, after nuzzling and kissing him to death. “M’ sorry… yer laugh is such a wonderful sound to me ears… *kiss* Forgive me?”

“Perhaps…” Maxie sighed. “If only I can do one thing.” There was playfulness in his tone.

Archie looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “What’s that, Max?”

“THIS!”

And with that, Maxie practically tackled the bigger man onto the bed and shoved his hands into his armpits.

“GAH-!! F-FUCKAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!” Archie’s boisterous laughter filled the entire room. “MAHAHAHAHAHAX!!! *WHEEZE* WAHAHAHAHAIT!!!”

“Oh, I’m done waiting, dear.” He smirked. “You deserve this more than you think you do.”

Tears had already sprang in Archie’s eyes, clamping his arms down only trapped Maxie’s hands, making his demise much worse.

“ST-STAAHAAAAHAHAAHAAHAP!! MAX PLEHEHEHEHEASE!! I’M BEHEHEHEGGIN YEHEHEHEHEHE!!!”

“Mm.. I don’t think so.” He smiled, lowering his hands to Archie’s sides and tickling faster. “Now that you had mentioned it, your laugh is just as wonderful~ why would I stop now when I can make you sing such a sweet melody?”

Flustered, Archie covered his blushing face, laughing harder.

“HAHAHA- GAHAHAHAHAHA!! *WHEEZE* STAHAHAHAP TEHEHEHEASING MEHEHEHE! HAHA- THAHAHAT’S NOT FAHAHAIR!!”

*smirk*

“Who said anything about teasing? I’m only speaking the truth, my love.”

Their fight continued, and neither of them noticed Shelly walk into their bedroom, yawning.

“You two are being so loud in here, I swear to god… Courts and I can’t sleep.. Tab and Matt neither.” She groaned, but she immediately found it amusing to see her best friend and leader getting his shit wrecked by Maxie of all people. “You, uh.. you okay there, Arch?” She’s never seen him laughing so hard.

“SHEHEHEHELLY FOR THE LOHOHOVE OF GOHOHOHOD HEHEHELP!!!”

“Help?” She grinned. “Okay, then.. I’ll help.”

She walked over to them and whispered something into Maxie’s ear. This made him chuckle evilly and grab both of Archie’s ankles.

“NO! DON’T YOU DA- GAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Maxie clawed his fingers at his husband’s feet. And Shelly was watching back, laughing.

“You said to help! And I did!”

“I MEHEHEHEHEANT HEHEHEHELP ME!!!!! NOHOHOHOT HIHIHIHIHIM-! GAH- MAHAXIE!! STAHAHAP!!!”

Maxie just smiled and kept up the attack. He began mocking him. “What’s the matter, Archie? Ticklish?”

“GAHAHAHA- FUHUHUCK YOU- AAAAAH!!!” He screamed when Maxie attacked his knees.

“There’s no way the leader of Team Aqua could be this ticklish.” He continued to mock.

“OKAHAHAHAY OKAHAHAHAY!! I’M SAHAHAHARRY!!! JUHUHUST STOP!!!”

Maxie decided that Archie had had enough. He released him and let him fall back on the bed, gasping for air.

Shelly walked out the door. “Now Goodnight, goofballs! Don’t make me come back in here, or you’re BOTH going to get it! The rest of us need beauty sleep! Especially me!” Then she closed the door.

Maxie leaned his head down and kissed his husband’s cheek.

“Are you alright, Archie?”

“Yeheheheheah…” He laughed, letting Maxie lay down next to him. “M’ okahahay..”

“Is it alright if we fall asleep like this?”

“Heh, whatever you want, babe..” Archie held him close. “Max?”

He looks at him. “Yes?”

“I love ye.”

“I love you too.”

[consul-valerius]

Detailed Character Sheet for Donna (from here !)

Character Chart

Character’s full name: Donatello “Donna” Rivera

Reason or meaning of name: They’re a ✨gift✨

Character’s nickname: Donna!

Reason for nickname: They like shortening their name to make it seem more casual, and it’s cute!

Birth date: some time in late November

Physical appearance

Age: 26

How old does he/she appear: 26 ?

Weight: 175 bs

Height: 5’2

Body build: rounder in their belly and thighs; they normally wear a corset because they’re a bit self conscious of it. short legs and smaller hands, but their arms are a bit long

Shape of face: facial hair makes their jaw seem a bit sharper, but roundish cheeks and a cleft chin when they’re shaved

Eye color: Main character Green 😔🤟🏻

Glasses or contacts: Neither!

Skin tone: lighter toned

Distinguishing marks: beauty mark on their face and embarrassing goat-tee

Predominant features: I would say their eyes and hair

Hair color: Magic color shifting hair babey

Type of hair: wavy

Hairstyle: a messy lob

Voice: a bit deeper than expected; if they’re talking to people they want to impress/don’t know, it gets higher pitched, but with friends it’s pretty low

Overall attractiveness: ummm attractive ???

Physical disabilities: They have pretty weak lungs which sometimes makes physical activity difficult for them, particularly when they’re anxious

Usual fashion of dress: They go for more flowy bottoms and tighter fit tops; wardrobe is just layered stuff from the bohemian section of Forever 21 tbh

Favorite outfit: Long maxi shirt with a turtleneck/mock neck is the go to + corset and flats

Jewelry or accessories: Chokers and rings babey

Personality

Good personality traits: determined, socially conscious, good listener, fairly good at quick problem solving, super open-minded

Bad personality traits: very easily discouraged, can be gossipy, is too blunt sometimes, naive, not good at setting boundaries for themself

Mood character is most often in: Literally can only describe it as chill; they try to keep a level head so that they don’t work themselves up

Sense of humor: tik Toks that you send your friends at 3am

Character’s greatest joy in life: Magic! They love that part of themself and exploring it

Character’s greatest fear: In-game: Never truly knowing who they are Post-Game: deeply afraid that their life wasn’t worth saving yoikes

Why?: they’re both kinda tied together: after losing their memories, they always had a nagging fear that they were really just an awful person and couldn’t remember. Even after getting their memories back, they suffer through a pretty bad imposter syndrome+survivor’s guilt: were they good enough to save twice (explained more later lol)? is that even fair compared to all the other people who died of the plague?

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil?: Losing Valerius again/finding out he lied to them again

Character is most at ease when: They’re at home, in their room, smoking and reading

Most ill at ease when: they don’t know where they stand with a person

Enraged when: When someone does something they know is hurtful but continues anyway

Depressed or sad when: They feel manipulated or taken advantage of; they doubt their intelligence and being played really makes them self-doubt

Priorities: They’re a corny main character: it’s their friends, silly!!

Life philosophy: Take care of you and your own, but also don’t forget to look out for your community

If granted one wish, it would be: To rekindle their relationship with their aunt

Why?: They’re too afraid of ever reaching out to her again on their own, but it’s something that eats away at them

Character’s soft spot: Little baby critters + Valerius lmao

Is this soft spot obvious to others? Probably yeah

Greatest strength: their magic 😎

Greatest vulnerability or weakness: their naivety

Biggest regret: toss up between leaving their aunt and agreeing to be Valdrmar’s apprentice

Minor regret: never making up with Lucio

Biggest accomplishment: Breaking Valerius’s chains, they’re a softy lmao

Minor accomplishment: Making Nadia laugh (again, they’re sOFT)

Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: mmm probably their past relationships before moving in with Asra ?

Why?: they don’t want people to think they’re foolish or easy to manipulate

Character’s darkest secret: their use of dark magic + parent’s history of using dark magic

Does anyone else know?: Technically they told Asra of this first, but Valdemar knew of it without them ever having said it.

Goals

Drives and motivations: They really want to help make Vesuvian prosper as it’s their home. They also want to be the best version of themself so that their friends have someone to rely on

Immediate goals: Post-game, they want to open a school with Valerius and Portia to help boost the literacy rate for Vesuvians

Long term goals: They would actually love to have kids of their own. Would also enjoy taking a more political position once they set up an actual school with mtuliple teachers. Traveling too, to learn more, but they want to do what they can in Vesuvian first.

How the character plans to accomplish these goals: with the poWER OF FRIENDSHIP and Nadia’s money lmfaoooo

How other characters will be affected: Definitely shifts Valerius’s goals of.... ahem, taking over Vesuvia. Makes him a lot less of a classist and actually begins paying attention to what his community needs from him. In response, this really helps his relationship with Nadia; they’re all able to work together and enjoy one another. And Dad Valerius!!

Past

Hometown: still working this out, but somewhere South probably

Type of childhood: very. messy. and painful for them.

Pets: they used to have a cat, but now they have a bat!

First memory: Their parents trying to umm.... sacrifice them

Most important childhood memory: Their aunt showing them how to bring plants back to life with magic

Why: For most of their childhood and adolescence, their parents’ history and use of dark magic really haunted them. They felt like magic was a destructive and evil thing that ruined people. However, seeing their aunt use it to bring life to something really shaped them and their views of the world; there can be life in destruction.

Childhood hero: I guess their aunt!

Dream job: as a child, it was definitely be like..... a world renowned magician lmao

Education: they’re self taught! Their aunt owned an inn and a professor would often come to it and bring them books to read, but they more or less taught themself how to read and write.

Religion: very spiritual but doesn’t follow a specific religion per se

Finances: grew up relatively poor, but the helping run the inn kept a roof over their head until they ran away

Present (in-game)

Current location: Asra’s shop

Currently living with: Asra! Lmao

Pets: their bat, Romeo!

Religion: same as before

Occupation: shopkeep

Finances: oh lawd they struggling (post-game they are basically Nadia and Valerius’s sugar baby lmfaooo)

Family

Mother: Viola

Relationship with her: not. Good. Because she tried to sacrifice them.

Father: Raul

Relationship with him: ALSO. NOT. GOOD. FOR THE SAME REASON LMAO.

Siblings: none!

Relationship with them: thank goodness!!!

Spouse: Valerius uwu

Relationship with him/her: solid! sexy! fun!

Children: eventually will have a son with him, Damien

Relationship with them: super close, wants to be the mother/father figure they never got to have

Other important family members: Their aunt! She raised them and saved their life. Things got messy because their aunt sadly was caught up in many abusive relationships that would also spill over into Donna’s life. They had to run away to survive essentially. Haven’t talked since

Favorites

Color: Purples

Least favorite color: Orange hurts their eyes a bit

Music: *bangs on table* sea shanties with Julian sea shanties with Julian!!

Food: they have a horrible sweet tooth

Literature: a slut for romances and philosophy lmao

Form of entertainment: other than reading, crafting!

Expressions: I’m too. Dumb to answer this LMAO

Mode of transportation: This hoe walking everywhere, horses scare them lmao

Most prized possession: Their tarot cards!

Habits

Hobbies: Reading, writing, sewing dolls, and painting!

Plays a musical instrument? They can play the flute pretty well

Plays a sport? LMAO. no.

How he/she would spend a rainy day: curled up in bed drinking coffee

Spending habits: they’re a poor hoe with expensive tastes, hence their sugar mama and daddy uwu

Smokes: yes to weed and like cigarettes, which is not good for their already messed up lungs lmao

Drinks: They date Valerius. Yes they drink.

Other drugs: only weed for this boy

What does he/she do too much of?: sleep. they got sleepy bitch disorder.

What does he/she do too little of?: exercise lmao

Extremely skilled at: they’re a magic man

Extremely unskilled at: cooking!

Nervous tics: they bite their cuticles, pick at their skin, and tend to disassociate/zone out. Asra normally gifts them stim toys to help them not do that to their skin, but they’re too embarrassed to use them when in public or with friends

Usual body posture: hunched over something

Mannerisms: they gesticulate a lot when they talk and sometimes don’t realize how loud they’re being until someone points it out to them

Peculiarities: as mentioned, they zone out quite a lot and sometimes do it in the middle of a conversation, which can be a bit alarming

Traits

Optimist or pessimist? They try to be an optimist!

Introvert or extrovert? A very nice introvert lol they have a social battery and when it’s done it’s DONE

Daredevil or cautious? Daredevil

Logical or emotional? They wear their heart on their sleeve lmao

Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat: Messily methodical ?

Prefers working or relaxing? Likes to relax, but cannot relax if they have work to do lol

Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Acts confident but is very unsure of themself

Animal lover?: oh absolutely

Self-perception

How he/she feels about himself/herself: They have a very negative self image. Even before getting their memories back, they felt they were a bit of burden and were paranoid that their personality was all made up. They really only value their magic.

One word the character would use to describe self: Messy

One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: “It’s becoming a bit harder to really trust my master and what he says about me. I can’t help but think there’s something... not right about me, but I don’t know what it is. I can smile and joke with him, and I love him a lot. But it feels like there’s something missing that will blow up my entire world, something he’s trying to save me from. Does that make us bad people? Am I a bad person?”

What does the character consider his/her best personality trait?: that they are open minded

What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait?: their holes in memory

What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic?: their magic hair!!

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic?: probably their hands/fingers from them picking at them

How does the character think others perceive him/her: they feel like most people think they’re ditzy or unreliable. Generally needs to be told that they’re liked in order to stop doubting themself.

What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: Having more self confidence and a better idea of themself

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: they love people! big people pleaser.

Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others?: if they need to, yes. They can be pretty shady, but again, sometimes they’re overly blunt with people. it’s a toss up

Person character most hates: proooooobably Lucio lmaoooo

Best friend(s): Asra! Portia!

Love interest(s): Valerius! Nadia!

Person character goes to for advice: Portia

Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Valerius lmao and Asra too

Person character feels shy or awkward around: Muriel and Vlastomil

Person character openly admires: Julian, surprisingly

Person character secretly admires: ooooh honestly Valdemar lmao

Most important person in character’s life before story starts: literally Valerius

After story starts: a tie between Nadia and Valerius

[maxskulline]

Character Sheet: Max

Basics

Full name: Maxine Sullivan Nickname(s): Max, Maxy, Madx  Title(s): Team Skull Grunt / Team Skull Admin (Post Game) Sex: Female Gender: Female Height: 5′4″ Age: 19/23 (Post Game) Zodiac: Scorpio Spoken languages: English / A few Alolan words

Physical characteristics

Hair color: Strawberry blonde (Natural), Hot Pink (dyed) Eye color: Pink  Skin tone: Very slightly tanned due to living on Alola Body type: Skinny Voice: Young Renee Zellweger  Dominant hand: Right Posture: Relaxed Scars: Mostly on her legs and arms/elbows from accidents Tattoos: Several in the post game verse (I’m yet deciding which to give her) Birthmarks: Here and there Most noticeable feature(s): Freckles, bright pink hair, pink eyes, symmetric features, snakebites, two fully pierced ears, pierced nose bridge

Childhood

Place of birth: Heahea City  Hometown: Po Town Birth weight/height: Average First words: “Bampa” (Grandpa) Siblings: None (that she knows of) Parents: Evelyn Sullivan, Niamh Sullivan Parental involvement: Due to their conservative nature she hasn’t been in contact with her parents since the age of 15, the age Max was sent out to restore Family values after failing her island challenge. Children: She helps Rosie to help raise Thursday, Rosie’s son in the Post Game Arc. 

Adult life

Occupation: Pokémon healer for Team Skull / Apprentice Pokéranger, Guitarist and Waitress (Post Game) Current residence: Po Town Close friends: Rosie, Guzma, Plumeria, Dosh’Te, Mist and Clarissa are the friends she would take a bullet for.  Relationship status: A clusterfuck of a relationship with Guzma that’s pretty on and off all the time during the game verse and which gets more serious in the Post Game arc.  Financial status: Perpetually broke Criminal record: Burglary, physical violence, pickpocketing, blackmailing, drug dealing Vices: Smoking, drug abuse, using sex as coping mechanism, nail biting when stressed

Sex & romance

Sexual orientation: Pansexual Preferred emotional role: submissive | dominant | switch Preferred sexual role: submissive | dominant | switch | Doesn’t care Libido: High. Turn ons: Confidence, pet names (babygirl, kitten), praise, choking, power play, slight degradation, dirty talk, teeth, love bites, being tied up, tying someone up, breath play, pegging her partner, tall people, natural people, hair pulling, the risk of getting caught, pet play (and a shitton more I don’t wanna get into rn lmao) Turn offs: Low to no effort from partner, age play (including diapers etc.) Love language: Preparing a Tapu Cocoa, actually calling or texting back, sleeping in the same space, allowing snuggles, telling them she misses them, giving any sort of affection and as Max is not good with words, then in the future she will write and compose songs for those she loves.  Relationship tendencies: Demiromantic/further on the aromantic side with a clear exception for Guzma. All other relations are platonic or sexual, or both. 

Miscellaneous

Character’s theme song(s): Addict of the Gallery - Faith Marie Hobbies to pass time: Nursing Pokémon, skateboarding, playing guitar, dancing, sex, rocking it off with friends in clubs or at gigs, traveling (if she could spare the cash), song writing, shoplifting Mental illnesses: Max isn’t diagnosed with a mental illness but she tends to disconnect from her emotions by disassociating for a while a lot. She has a bad habit of suppressing pain through sex or/and drugs (latter during the later part of her game verse), can be emotionally stumped, has a temper and builds heaps upon heaps of guilt upon herself.  Physical illnesses: N/A Left or right brained: I’d say it is quite balanced. Fears: Rejection, living on the streets again, losing herself, losing her Pokémon, not being a good enough role model for those who count on her, making herself vulnerable to emotional torment by letting people close enough to hurt her, that nothing she does has meaning, not being good enough, not having a clear goal to spur her forwards.  Self-confidence level: Fluctuates. Most of the time at least she appears quite confident.  Vulnerabilities: Her Pokémon, Guzma, Rosie, the handful of people she calls friends, her pride. 

tagged by: @fracturedhues (thank you so muchhhh <3) tagging: @skulldxddy @xxsacrificiumxx @tenderpoison @anhedonialunatic @acricaleo and everyone who hasn’t done it yet yo <3 

[youngjaelook]

Yes — Jackson Wang

author’s note — so i’m planning to make this a little drabble series lmao. also a huge shout-out to @fentitrbl she’s such a sweet person fr. thank you so much for being so nice and encouraging towards me! i hope u like it <33 #UNEDITED!

“Come Spring Day” found here! & “Starless Sky” drabble found here! 

summary  — You’re not sure if you’re ready to say yes after everything that’s happened between you and Jackson. 

warnings — slight angst, slight fluff, & implied smut

word count — 1.5K

The moment Jackson's finger twitched to open the blue, velvet box, you almost ran, purely out of fear. Yet somehow, your legs stood still and your eyes couldn't tear themselves away from the crystalline ring that stood under the soft glare of the pale moonlight.

You gulped.

Jackson was always shit at timing; there was this one time, in the middle of drilling himself inside of you, he gazed deeply into your eyes, and you braced yourself for whatever, sinful or perhaps romantic words that would roll off his tongue any moment now. But all you got was a "shit — I think I forgot to buy tissue paper this morning."

And moments like this definitely proved your earlier statement — Jackson Wang is shit at timing.

You couldn't manage to utter a single word rather than a shaky, incoherent "what?"

Jackson was oblivious to it all — the rapid pounding of your heart, your wide-eyed gaze and the trembling to your fingers. He had mistaken it all for happiness, relief probably? Though, it was none of those things. In fact, it was the opposite.

Had things been different these past months, you would have said yes in a heart beat. Now, though, you don't even know how to respond, while he's peering up at you with so much hope, so much love. You couldn't dare break his heart like this, yet you did so anyways.

Jackson beamed at you. "I said, will you marry me —"

"No,"

You didn't know what was more intimidating, Jackson's silence, or the look of disappointment behind those hazel eyes of his.

You reached out to explain, to justify yourself, but he had pulled away so quickly, you feared he might've gotten whiplash. "Don't be like this, Jackson. Let me explain —"

Jackson rarely ever glared at you, and so when his eyes turned to slights and his gaze burned holes into your face, you recoiled.

"Forget it," he snaps the box shut, and the pretty, dazzling ring is hidden underneath smooth, rich velvet. "Fuck! Do you know how embarrassing this is?" He rises from his kneeling position, and looms over you.

Jackson doesn't notice, but you do, you see the tears welling in his eyes and the sight nips at your heart strings. You felt like the villain.

"I just thought," he allows his tears to stream freely down his face. "I thought you loved me. And I thought that after everything that's happened before would only make us stronger. Guess I'm wrong, then." It doesn't take a lot to see that Jackson was beating himself up for your rejection.

He always did this; blaming himself for everything that didn't go his way.

You thought differently, though.

Taking matters into your own hands, quite literally, you stand up to grasp either side of his jaw in either of your hands. "This isn't your fault, I swear to you. Jackson, it's not that I don't love you, because I do — God, I fucking love you. I," you inhale sharply, pressing your forehead against his cheek, your rubicund lips so close to the skin of his jaw. "We just need to take things slow, alright? Please understand that, understand me."

Jackson's stubborn tendency shows, when he looks at you with defiance in his eyes, but then as his gaze finds your own, the look dims and then flickers away all at once.

His hand reaches up to caress the side of your face, despite the bitterness that lingers in his chest, and smiles softly at you. "You're not going to leave me again?" Sometimes you wonder if Jackson Wang is just playing dumb, or if he's actually oblivious to your constant heart eyes, lingering touches and soft pecks.

Either that, or you're just not very good at expressing your feelings for him.

You smile against the corner of his lips. "No, I won't."

Jackson doesn't need to lean forward to have his lips on yours, because you take initiative and kiss him first. His lips feels soft and velvety on your own, and it takes almost everything in you not to give in to your urge to push Jackson against the wet sand.

The waves roll against the shore and it only gets stronger as the moon inches up higher in the sky. You wonder why he had decided to propose here, why now?

You're pulling away from him, but not far enough for him not to feel your long, thick lashes brushing against the tops of his cheeks, you smile softly. "How long have you been meaning to propose?"

Pulling you flushed against his chest, his hands resting on the small of your back as he sways with you in the breeze. "I had the ring even before we uh, broke up." You're stunned, and it's so painfully obvious in your face, and body language, prompting Jackson to dust soft pecks against the bottom of your jaw.

You suck in a deep breath. "Jackson, I —"

He shushes you instantly.

"Don't say anything else, please. Let's just head back to our hotel room." Jackson was still hurting from your rejection, and would much rather make love to you as a form of apology for rushing you. You can't seem to construct any words of your own, while Jackson's arms pull away from your torso, leaving you feeling exposed to the blowing wind.

You think he's going to desert you there, on the beach, with your maxi dress flailing in the breeze. But he takes you by the hand, leads you back to the room without uttering a single word.

The walk, or perhaps the march, back to your hotel room is full of tense silence, and it's gnawing at your heart. The guilt starts to settle in, when Jackson squeezes your hand gently and brings them up to his lips.

Once he has you in the safe haven of your hotel room, he's kissing down the exposed skin of your shoulders, up the junction between your collarbone and throat. His lips move in such a sensual, and slow manner, and it has you shuddering underneath his touch, getting you blitzed on his scent like he's your own brand of personal heroine.

He nips at a particular spot just below your jaw and it prompts you to groan his name in response. "I'm sorry, baby," he murmurs softly against your skin. "sorry for pressuring you, for hurting you before. I promise I'll do better, promise to be better."

Jackson renders you silent for a moment.

There is a silent battle you're fighting within you, and your heart, your poor heart, is caught in the crossfire. It screams in the midst of all the chaos, and confusion, screams for you to say yes! And you wonder if you should, though Jackson doesn't give you time to think, when he lays you on top of soft, cotton sheets.

He tugs at the flimsy material of your dress until he manages to lift it off of you. You're nearly bare underneath him and it makes you feel vulnerable, especially when his eyes are raking up and down your body as if he could see through you.

You assist him in prying off his pants, and shirt, so desperate for him to make love to you already.

And when he finally has you pinned down beneath him, his lips latching on to any skin he can find, he's pushing into you.

While you drown in euphoria, your mind goes back to thinking. You watch through heavy eyes as Jackson takes care of you, shows his love for you through such sinful actions.

Why wait, when you know this is who you want to be with for the rest of your life? You can't picture anyone else waiting for you at the end of a white aisle, or kissing you goodnight before you sleep. You can't picture anyone else growing old with you, or loving you the way you deserved to be love — you can see Jackson, and only him.

You see white flash before your eyes, and your chanting Jackson's name, telling him how much you love him, while he finishes himself off.

You slump against the, now disheveled, sheets and gasp for air.

Jackson, despite his aching muscles, walks to the bathroom to fetch a warm rag for you because he's made a mess of himself on you, and would rather not have you sleeping with the essence of his arousal dripping down your legs and stomach.

You shudder when Jackson runs the damp rag along the skin of your thighs, and tummy. And when all is done, he lays beside you, basking in the sweet scent of your skin. He holds you and whispers sweet nothings into your ear as the heaviness of your eyes start to grow. But before either of you can fall asleep, you lean in closer to him. “Yes,” is all you can say.

If Jackson hears you, he doesn’t stir nor does he make a noise.

But when you peer up at him through your lashes, you can make out his smile despite the dim lighting and you know, you just know that he’s heard you.

[encoresencores]

girl crush (part 3)

But none of the many objects of my adolescent (and then teenage) obsessions were quite so untouchable as Celeste. With her, it was different — I didn’t long desperately to be her friend, but was content with gazing up, from a distance, to the pedestal I had set her upon.

I never knew her personally; I only knew of her, and that was enough. In school she was one of the lead Chinese dancers, and at every Chinese New Year or Teacher’s Day (or whatever uninspired drag of a special occasion’s) performance, the curtains rose on her standing front and centre. When the other girls filed off into the wings, she would emerge from the riff-raff, upstage in the spotlight, regal and delicately arranged like a flower as she remained on stage waiting to begin her solo; the calefare having dutifully made way for their star. Everyone knew who she was. She was Ding Laoshi, the Chinese dance instructor’s, favourite; I once heard from a friend that Ding Laoshi referred to her as “小公主” - little princess - and it was obvious why. When she danced, in her long graceful lines and winsome smile was a dramatic air of triumph and tragedy combined, femininity glorified and yet reproached. She was all vulnerable charm and earnest strength. I could never tear my eyes away from her when she was onstage.

Offstage, she was steeped in a mist of mystery.

But first, a description: she was tall and lithe, with a long neck and expressive fingers, no curves to speak of. A golden-brown, sharp-jawed face with full lips and fierce, dark eyebrows; large almond eyes that were challenging and secretive at the same time; long lifted cheeks that gave her face a sense of yearning openness. To this day, I am still of the opinion that no one’s features came together as alluringly, as perfectly exotically, as hers did (which I suppose already explains my untiring fascination — as you might know, I am too easily mesmerised by all things beautiful).

In real life, she carried herself in a self-conscious, tentative manner that made her seem more fragile than her strong limbs and powerful technique on stage betrayed; her shoulders were slightly hunched, accentuating jutting collarbones, and her hands always carefully held in front of her body (I knew this from passing by her in the corridors, or spotting her from afar in the canteen). On Instagram, for she was one of those people who lived their lives on Instagram, she regularly posted dimly-lit close-ups of herself looking vacantly into the camera, lips parted so a flash of white teeth showed through, and captioned these photos with melancholy and cryptic poetry. She was too thin, and her gaze a tad too raw, to be considered sexy — but she was endlessly sensual.

She was not just a talented dancer, but also a gifted artist. A painter and sketcher, one of her favourite canvases was herself — she experimented with wild lipstick colours and stunning, deftly-blended eyeshadow creations that would not have looked out of place on a runway. She was equally bold and varied with her fashion choices: from heavy maxi skirts and boots (in Singapore weather!) paired with skimpy tank tops, to baggy men’s shirts and oversized pants and aviators, to clashing colours and unyielding eclecticism of pattern layered unabashedly on pattern, to slinky evening gowns fit for a red carpet, to girlish blogshop chic… she pulled it all off seamlessly. Her style was the sum of all styles, her great skill that of metamorphosis. A chameleon of a girl, flitting from one look to another.

Fittingly, these artistic inclinations were accompanied by failing grades in math and science. Even her name suited her perfectly. Celeste - elegant, ethereal, poetic. Unique but not blatantly so. Anything else would have been too coarse, too common, trying too hard. But not everything about her was so deeply-passionate and dramatic: like any other teenage girl (here is a reminder that we were merely sixteen at the time), she posted cheery OOTDs, and food photos, and group snaps where she was grinning so wide that her eyes were tiny and all her teeth showed — those were my favourite photos, the ones where she looked gloriously happy. Tortured artist perhaps, but there was joy in her life, I was sure. This only served to further my obsession. I marvelled at how such a pensive, complex being could also be so purely exuberant and vital — it was precisely this polarity that mesmerised me. The capacity for feeling that she appeared to possess (deep plunges into depression, lofty heights of euphoria) was too far removed from my own petty anxieties and common joys for comprehension; she eluded understanding. I wondered how she had grown into this identity, what thoughts went through her mind, how much of what I saw was real. Her entire personality seemed like a dream.

I’m well aware that I’m manic pixie dream girl-ing her from start to finish; even back then I knew very well that the Celeste-construction in my head was merely my selective interpretation of what she projected to the world. But I reasoned that it was harmless, since it was all in my head. What makes me feel more guilty, is that I know the current, 2020 Celeste would likely be horrified if she ever stumbled across this. Her and her great struggle with being looked at and evaluated, her impassioned revolts against the unforgiving bounds of beauty. What violation would she feel if she saw me picking her apart, analysing her younger self in such excruciating detail? (On the other hand… perhaps the exhibitionist in her would enjoy the attention. I don’t know - I never properly knew her and I still don’t.) Now I recognise that she struggled intensely back then with body image and self-esteem and mental health in general — but at the time I knew only to be entranced, not empathetic.  

When I step back and look at it, actually, it’s strange the manner in which I viewed her. Because in a school as small as ours, I had many friends who knew her personally. I mean, we were in the same damn school — she wasn’t that far off at all. Also, it wasn’t precisely a secret that I thought she was cool, because she was sure to come up in rabid gossip sessions; she was considered “high profile” in our school, and in my defence, I wasn’t the only one who pondered and speculated about her life and her relationships (she briefly dated a boy in our level, a well-muscled good-looking jock-type, who was as obscenely rich and distastefully boyish as one could get — it perplexed me how someone like her could be attracted to someone like him — but that’s a story for another time).

A friend, Gina, once interrupted me when I mentioned Celeste’s unblemished complexion (while bemoaning my own persistent outbreaks) — “Celeste? No way. Her skin is quite bad leh.” Gina, always flippant and unabashed, and who was a classmate of Celeste’s, seemed keen to correct me. “She has a lot of pimples on her forehead. But in photos you can’t tell because of the concealer.” I took this in for a second, with brief wonderment. With just that, she had inched closer to reality.

The last degree of separation between us dissipated come year 1 of junior college, when we ended up in the same H1 Chinese class. It was a small class, only 7 students, all of us having had failed our Chinese O-Levels (haha). She sat at one side of the classroom with her classmates, and I sat at the other with mine. Our two groups didn’t mix, and there was no need to. No one really listened or participated in class anyway. It was H1 Chinese. By that time I was no longer as enamoured of her as I’d previously been, but it was still a thrill to be in the same room, to listen to her reply Chen Laoshi (a grumbling man of retirement age, balding and constantly sweating or complaining about the school management) in stilted mandarin when called upon. Her voice was husky, sounding like it did in the acoustic covers she posted online (by then she had added singing to her repertoire of talents).

One lesson, Chen Laoshi, exasperated by our unresponsiveness, shuffled us around and made us discuss a news article. I ended up paired with Celeste — we exchanged awkward smiles before going about perusing the passage in silence. All of a sudden, I felt distinctly embarrassed to be in her presence. I became conscious of how the waistband of my skirt dug into my stomach, and how my blouse was sack-like and sloppy, and the way baby hairs sprung straight upwards from my hairline no matter how I tried to pin them down. I squirmed internally considering the unattractive largeness of my round, sweaty face next to her fine-boned features. She was, and I was sure of it in that instant, too pretty not to be cruel. But when she finally spoke (in English) to ask me what the last sentence of the article meant — her voice, though American-accented, had an undoubtedly Singaporean accent. She had seemed so beyond my ken, but when the words “lah” and “leh” came out of her mouth, I was shocked to realise that somehow she was just another girl. Illusion dispelled — I gathered myself, and replied that I thought it was trying to say that, despite seeming advances in Singapore’s conservation practices, there was still a long way to go before the nation as a whole really embraced the spirit of sustainability.  

(this is so fucking long I’m dying omg kjfhafhalsf I have no idea how to end this. how did what I intended to be a brief character sketch turn into such a sprawling mess…. but still posting it NOW bc I just want to be done with it lmao. TO BE EDITED/COMPLETED, mayhaps)

(27.01.20)