#me practicing and posting an oc like that could mean a lot more to someone else i think so why not

[isa-ah]

i keep rolling that 'how to draw burn scars' tutorial around in my head and im considering making an oc with scarring to practice hmmmmm

[mythicalcoolkid]

I love the "glasses are disability" thing because it applies to basically every complaint abled people have about disability

"You're not even that bad, why would you get that?" Have you ever used a magnifying glass for small details or zoomed in on a picture

"Why do you have that accommodation TODAY?" Why do you wear reading glasses when you're reading

"It seems like your 'needs' are inconsistent." Yeah and you wear sunglasses when it's sunny and not all the time

"But you can technically walk without that." Yeah and if I put the page really close to your face you could read it, it would just hurt and be hugely impractical, inconvenient, and limiting

"But you COULD go without it all the time, you don't NEED it to live." And maybe you could technically see without your glasses, doesn't mean it's comfortable or practical day to day

"If you REALLY had a hard time seeing you would have glasses." Have you ever known someone who couldn't afford a new pair of glasses? Or eye appointments? Someone who needed vision therapy or special prism glasses? Someone whose vision only gets bad during migraines or seizures? Someone with astigmatism that glasses can't help? Someone who didn't qualify for LASIK?

"You only use it when you're out in public." Have you ever gotten up to use the bathroom at night without putting on your glasses

"Decorating it is just trying to get attention, and it's a medical device so stop glamorizing it." Do you hate any patterned or colorful glasses frames too? Art with characters who wear glasses? People who make OCs with glasses? Glasses chains, prescription sunglasses, aesthetic fake glasses with tinted lenses?

"There are secretly lots of people just using aids for fun and attention." There are secretly lots of people wearing fake glasses or colored contacts for fun and attention, it does not affect you

"We need to find fakers, they're stealing disabled resources!" Someone pretending to need glasses is "taking" a seat in the front from someone who might need it more. That sucks and they shouldn't do that. But I'm not going to scrutinize every person who wears glasses to see if I think they really need that seat. You personally are not the arbiter of who is (based on the random times you've seen them) secretly not disabled

"My friend has that and doesn't act like that." Does every pair of glasses in production, or even every pair close to your prescription, work for you? Is your vision identical to every other nearsighted person?

"If you can do X why can't you do Y? Some people with that can do Y."/"But if you have that how can you do X? People with that can't usually do X." Some people are nearsighted and some people are farsighted and some people are both. Some farsighted people can read some without glasses and some can't. And good distance vision doesn't mean you don't ever need glasses, it's just an entirely different reason you'd need glasses

"You're too young to need that." And there are young people who need bifocal lenses

"Why don't you use this DIFFERENT aid though, it would look like you didn't even have an aid." Why doesn't everyone in the world wear contacts

"Why can't I/my friend/my kid play with it?" Do you let random strangers and children try on your glasses at the grocery store

"I was just trying to help, I thought you'd need a push/you were in the way." Are you cool with me suddenly pulling your glasses off your face to clean them, or because the glare was distracting me

"You'll eventually stop using it though right?" Are you planning on no longer needing glasses someday

Disabled people are free to add

I am aware this is not a 1-to-1 perfectly accurate post. Do not come into the notes trying to "um actually this isn't a perfect comparison." I know. Just don't

[soularsss]

Drawing Likeness: with Tem!

okaay since a few people actually showed interest in me sharing a bit of what I've been doing to figure out how to really capture likeness, specifically Temuera Morrison, I figured id do my best to write it out

I am also going to entice you with some of my recent clone art! (oooh some of it is unreleaaasedd)

I am putting the whole thing under the cut because I have a feeling its going to be long:

Read more!!!

a couple disclaimers before we start

-This is not some definite post about how everyone should be drawing clones, nor is it in any way claiming that this is the right way. This is just my musings as I stare at a mans face for way too long and try to replicate it

-I am inexperienced. As kind as you all are to me, drawing real people is relatively new to me, capturing a persons identity through their features is difficult for anybody, and I am no different. I have watched many a video on likeness and had my share of classes, but If im being honest, i rarely put it into practice successfully. So there'll probably be errors in this post or things i will come back to in a few months and wish I had said/done differently

ANYWAYs you guys get my vibe im just here to ramble and today we are rambling about mr copy paste. I am doing this for Law, my clone boy, because I plan on delving further into oc fanart and I want to put effort into representing him correctly!

SO LETS BEGIN

Before even deciding what specific pose of a person I want to draw, I tend to grab a bunch of references and compile them like so

(all of these can be found on my pinterest)

Why so many? Well, we are about to delve into facial features, so when we are dealing with photos we have to take into account that there are an abundance of circumstances that will influence how a persons face will appear, some of these include:

focal length: All of these are taken on different devices, and focal length can play a big part in distorting faces

age will play a part, your face changes a bunch throughout your life!

lighting, while not as major, can muddy the waters and make it difficult to interpret facial planes and features

SO, to make sure we get a proper grasp of what's really going on, I like to make sure we have lots of options to compare and contrast with.

Next up! What I like to do is block out the main facial features with colour on different layers, the features I block out usually are the general face shape, eyebrows, eyes, nose and lips. But what you are looking for is the defining features of a person, so that could include other things! Maybe a scar, or some particularly prominent cheekbones.

I dont have any rhyme or reason when it comes to picking my colours, all that matters is you can see all the shapes clearly.

Now I may be biased, because Ive been staring at these for 4 hours, but notice how it still looks like Tem? :D

Anyways, now we can break these parts down, and you'll see what I mean about compare and contrast:

We'll start with isolating the facial shape, putting all these next to eachother you'll notice they arent exactly the same (partly because of my shoddy work) But the distinguishing features run through each shape! Namely the very soft rectangular shape I sketched out in the bottom right there. Along with his soft, wide jaw structure.

I did the same for the rest of his features!

You'll notice I highlight the prominent shapes and ratios,

When drawing anything, it is important to start from the very base shapes and build up.

When drawing something you want to look like someone, those shapes relative to other shapes is what makes it look like them.

I didnt use the same technique with his eyes and lips, but I wrote out some helpful info for them! More importantly for his eyes.

When drawing eyes, I find the most important part is where exactly I draw the creases, (along with the overall shape of the eye itself) it is important to understand where those will present themselves with hooded eyes.

NOW, with an understanding of his facial features in place, lets take a detour to colours:

before I start, a couple things to note:

-Temuera morrison versus the clone troopers in the animated shows:

While I love the animated shows they don't exactly stay close to their source material. Im going to link here to an excellent post discussing whitewashing specifically in relation to the clones.

Temuera is Māori, of Te Arawa (Ngāti Whakaue) and Tainui (Ngāti Maniapoto, Ngāti Rarua) whakapapa, and also has Scottish and Irish ancestry.

The Māori people are the indigenous Polynesian people of mainland New Zealand (Aotearoa). Māori originated with settlers from East Polynesia. Māori people often vary in skin tone, Skin colour doesn't determine ethnicity. There's often a correlation but it's not a requirement.

But that is a tangent! What we are aiming for is to stay true to Temuera.

Bringing back my reference photos from before, Ive colour picked a buncha values and theyre all over the place. Why doesnt this work?

Similarly to earlier, you have to take into account the photos themselves. Many things like lighting, colour grading (when it comes to filmography) and makeup, can alter how a skin colour presents in photo.

You can attempt to get true to life by swatching from certain places on the face. Here I've tried to pick some photos with good lighting, and I've also tried to avoid overly lit/shaded areas.

Tem has a very warm, tan skin tone, Instead of colour picking I tend to try and replicate it myself, but I do often bring in references to make sure Im staying true to the source!

a brief intermission to talk about colour theory, something I myself struggle with alot. Often, when putting in flat colours without a background, I will forget to make sure the colours i intend to use will work with the skin tone i have picked! (something that is apparent in older works of mine, not just in relation to clones, but in general, the colours I end up with stray largely from their original sources and it is something I am doing my best to keep in mind and improve in! Although I don't think i am nearly experienced enough in the topic to say I have succeeded yet lol.)

anyways back to Tem :))

Now we can put all of that into practice! Things to keep in mind when drawing out a piece next to a reference like this:

the distance between the eyebrows? how far down his face does his nose go? Basically just, in relation to eachother, where do all those shapes we found earlier, sit?

The screenshot above is from before I did it myself, but instead of directly tracing from the reference, a handy trick I use it to complete your sketch first, and then overlay a traced version to see where your inconsistencies are! Alternatively, you could move your sketch over the image, but I didnt do it that way so!! uh!! im sure it works exactly the same!!!!

When it comes to a final illustration, or any sketch that isnt a direct study, of course you can push and pull and stylise! You'll see below that I'm not exactly 1:1 to my reference photo either.

The important thing with stylisation, or at least my own personal understanding of stylisation is that you need to thoroughly understand the thing you are stylizing! "You need to know the rules to break them" and all that. While shapes, lines and rendering can change, when it comes to drawing someone, and making it look like them, you have to make sure to keep their core features true to source. Caricature can capture a persons vibe whilst drastically exaggerating features, but it will only look like them if you KEEP THOSE FEATURES!!!! SHAPES!!! AHHH!!

But that is just my perspective on the discussion of style versus realism, please dont take is as Law, I dont know what Im on about half the time!!

anyways, after fixing your sketch, add local colours!

I rexified him because why tf not! But this is where you can go crazy with that clone personalization!

And then here is a very very barely rendered version (if you guys want me to explain how i RENDER that would need to be a completely different post, and I havent had anyone ask about it yet so who knows! maybe one day) But I digress, hopefully you learnt something new through my ramblings! It has certainly helped me organize my thoughts and I have also found some areas I would like to focus more on in the future to improve my own art!

TLDR: In order to understand an object, be it a face or a building or literally anything, you have to break it down to its simplest forms, understanding LARGER shapes will help you immensely in the long run

If you guys like this sorta content do let me know! I'd be down to do similar things for armor/anything really, I am very anti gatekeep so really anything at all you want to know! Send me an ask :))

also if you see a spelling mistake.. i don’t know how that got there

[lovewithmary]

(not) moving on — a max verstappen x stark!oc x charles leclerc series

★ fc: madison beer ☆ summary: evangeline "evie" stark is in love with her best friend, max verstappen, but he tries his best to keep her at arm's length. but what happens when she starts to get close to his fellow drivers in the paddock? ★ note: idek why i like creating stark ocs, but it’s fun. This is purely for my own entertainment but I don't know if I'll continue it. It depends if people actually want to see more of this. (realistically, I might continue it because I want to see it lol) btw how do people do the subtitles?? like I'm so curious I want to do those

schat = darling in dutch

next series masterlist

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 20,492,182 others

eviestark: life lately 💜

comments

user1: MY WIFE IS IN A RELATIONSHIP???

user2: she’s actually living the life rn

user3: SCHAT??? ANG???

user4: the random tony stark jumpscare in the photo dump LMAOOOO

user5: who is the guy with tony stark in the 7th photo?? ↳ user6: i’m pretty sure that’s peter parker, an employee of stark industries??? he’s started out as an intern in high school but he’s rumored to be the COO once evie becomes CEO of stark industries

user7: WHO TOOK THE 2ND PICTURE

user8: not the single guys from the f1 grid in her likes 😭😭

user9: THE WOMAN IN THE BACK IN THE 7TH PICTURE IM CRYING

user10: the first and second picture giving me 'boyfriend took these for me' vibes

user11: she looks so pretty and happy in the 4th picture <3

"You're playing with fire by posting our text messages, Ang," Max said, his voice shushed as he walked around the paddock.

"It's fine, Maxie. They'll probably connect me to a random famous person who is Dutch and then it'll blow over in a week," Evie dismissed.

"It doesn't really help that the guys are in your likes constantly," Max grumbled, and he heard Evie laugh.

"Some of them are pretty cute, and I think some even tried messaging me but I never saw them until it was late," she responded.

"Who?"

"Aww, Maxie, are you jealous?" Evie cooed, her tone sweet yet mocking at the same time.

"No... I just never expected them to be brave enough to message you," Max said.

"If you must know, I think it was Charles and Lando who tried. There are probably others, but I haven't seen them,"

"Did you respond to any of them?"

"Of course not, I'm loyal to you and only you,"

"Schat..."

"I know, I know, you wouldn't touch me with a ten-foot pole like that," Max could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

"You know we're just best friends, right?"

"And I'm saying I'm loyal to you and only you as a best friend."

"Are you doing anything soon?" Max was quick to change the subject, feeling as if he didn't, awkwardness would settle in and he hates it whenever Evie doesn't speak since he's fully aware that he loves hearing her talk considering how passionate she gets about things.

"Stark Industries' Gala is happening and Pepper's making me get a date for the event,"

"Why's she making you?"

"Something along the lines of I have to be seen with someone that isn't MJ, Peter, Ned, and Shuri," Evie sighed.

Max laughed at her situation, knowing that while Evie knew a lot of people, there were only a few that she could trust completely. And luckily for him, he was one of them. He was probably the first, considering they've known each other since she was 6 and he was 8.

"Good luck trying to find someone,"

"It's not even trying to find someone I'm struggling with. It's trying to find someone that's decent enough to spend my night with,"

"Who were you going to ask?"

"Well, I was going to ask you, but since we're best friends I don't think me bringing you as my date to the SI event would be something best friends do,"

"I'll go," Max said, shrugging.

"Wait, seriously? Like you going means you actually have to dress up,"

"I know,"

"The dress code is black tie. That means you can't wear your Redbull uniform like you're a walking billboard,"

"Do I really wear it that much? I saw people that were shocked when I wore a white t-shirt,"

"You're a millionaire who wears the same thing every day. So basically, every millionaire man,"

"I'm going to wear Redbull head to toe to the Gala now that you said that,"

[sotwk]

Taken (Eomer x unnamed OC) - Part 3 of 3

Part 1 / Part 2

Summary: After having his proposals and professions rejected by the woman he loves, Éomer still refuses to be dissuaded. He vows to continue fighting for a future with her--even if that means having to let go for the time being.

Word count: 6.7k

Dedicated to anyone who has ever known the pain of loving someone you could not have. <3

Content: Boromir lives (!), angsty romance, declarations of love, jealousy, mutual pining, class division, shield-maiden, Éomer King, Rohirrim OCs, post-RotK, non-canon pairing

Rating: T (Teens and up)

Warnings: Sensuality gets steamy, but nothing explicit. Mentions of old battle injuries.

To Read on AO3: Link

Taken 

PART THREE

Third Age 3019 May 6

Minas Tirith, Gondor

“If you would allow me to propose something your Grace, I--”

“Éomer.” The King of Rohan growled the ungentle correction with an irritated shake of his head. “If I have leave from your king to continue calling him Elessar, then I will not abide frivolous formalities from you…Captain. And speak freely! It is your candor that I came here for, as much as your counsel."

Boromir chuckled faintly. “Very well.” He downed the last of the wine in his goblet before picking up the jug to refill it, then reaching across the table to serve his guest as well. 

While Éomer took a hearty swig, Boromir used the extra seconds of silence to weigh his next words. The noble horse-lord had done most of the talking since his arrival at the house not an hour ago, rambling on with barely contained agitation that would have frightened or offended anyone unfamiliar with his character. But Boromir had known Théodred’s cousin since he was a child, and while he was not nearly as close to Éomer as he had been with the late Prince of Rohan, their friendship had deepened enough--especially over the past few months--to familiarize Boromir with the trigger points of his temper. 

And Boromir had never before seen him more sensitive about a topic than the matter they had at hand. 

Love certainly wields such terrible power over a man, the Captain-General of Gondor mused, before clearing his throat. 

“I will gladly fulfill your request of watching over her in your absence, making sure she is well-treated and wants for nothing,” he began. “But a soldier can quickly grow restless without sufficient martial exercise.” 

“I agree.” Éomer leaned forward to fold his arms across the table. “Has she not been here long enough for your men to grow accustomed to seeing her at the training grounds? None of them need spar against her or even alongside her if they do not wish to. She would be content to practice drills on her own. In fact, she may even prefer it.”  

“My men will tolerate her presence just fine. The valor she showed on Pelennor was well-witnessed, and stories of it have circulated around our garrison,” Boromir said. “I admit she may inevitably overhear crass remarks from some passing boor among the citizenry. A woman warrior still remains an oddity in these parts. But I am sure she did not come to her status without learning how to weather such criticisms.” 

“Yes.” Éomer stared at the empty goblet he rotated slowly between his hands. “She has had to bear with a lot of ignorant talk over the years.”

“Which is why I propose taking her as a member of my company while you are away. Just temporarily,” Boromir added quickly, noting the immediate change in the horse-lord's demeanor. “It will help her feel more at ease while here, separated from you and her countrymen, if she had a group to belong to.”

“She has already taken a strong liking to your Aerdis. Which, I must confess, took me by surprise.”

Boromir smiled at this, his fool heart ready to burst with joy at every casual mention of his betrothed. “My lady is an easy one to love,” he said simply. “And indeed, the two seem to enjoy each other's company. I am certain Aerdis would be happy to continue acquainting her with all of her treasured haunts within the city and even beyond its walls. But…” 

He rubbed his jaw slowly, ever the unconscious tell of his discomfort with the situation at hand. But it was no use dancing around the real counsel he wished to present to Éomer King. “When it comes to daily labors, a shield-maiden will likely be happier with work better suited to her talents.”

Éomer cocked an eyebrow, clearly undeceived by Boromir’s attempts at off-handedness. “What sort of work? I sense you have something specific in mind.”

“I do,” Boromir admitted. “And I shall explain it to you plainly, although I will first say that it is both a suggestion and a request for a favor.” At this point he considered offering Éomer another refill of his drink, but the deepening scowl on the man’s face made him think better of it. “As you may have heard, I have been charged by King Elessar to lead the delegation that will treat with the Southrons. Sadhar has already come forward with an offer to parley, as soon as next month.”

Éomer’s eyes widened; he caught on even faster than Boromir had expected him to. “And you wish to include her in your delegation?”

“With your approval, yes.”

“You do not have it!” Éomer exclaimed. “And how could you propose such a thing?! Have you forgotten how she was so nearly dragged off by those animals to be taken who knows where for purposes I dare not even think of?”

“Are you really asking that of the man who came to her aid?”

It was a risky move to prod at that wound, but Éomer looked properly chastised by it. “You rescued her,” he conceded. “And for that I shall eternally be in your debt. But I cannot pretend to understand why you wish to involve her in any dealings with Harad.”

“You must see why I thought of her,” Boromir insisted. “You, who can personally attest to what she is capable of.” But Éomer continued to look too distraught to think, so he laid the rest out. “I can count on the fingers of one hand every person I know who can speak a Haradric dialect with reliable accuracy. Half of them died in the war.”

Éomer rose abruptly, nearly knocking over his chair in his state. Muttering indistinctly, he turned his back to Boromir to glare out the nearest window and brood at the rain lashing against the glass panes. 

“When Théodred used to boast to me about her, I dismissed it as a mentor's pride in his fanciful protégé,” Boromir continued. “I suppose I too allowed myself to be distracted by her sex. But she really is a hidden gem in your Éored, is she not? Your cousin invested in her training with great thoughtfulness, and it has borne fruit marvelously. He really believed--”

Éomer slammed the heel of his hand on the window frame. “Théodred was not the one hopelessly in love with her for so many years! There lies the difference!” he snapped. “So when you ask for my consent to take her to meet with our enemies, consider that you are asking me to risk the life of the woman I absolutely refuse to live my own life without!”

And while Boromir reacted with silence, he stood there, breathing hard, one fist on his hip and the other hand pressed over his forehead. “Forgive me,” he mumbled. “The wine, I…and I have scarcely slept since--”

Boromir waved off the apology. “I understand your agony well. It was not long ago that I lived through the same, and just mercifully survived to a happy end. I am on your side, Éomer. I know politics and duty might make the lines difficult to discern, but I hope you can believe that.”

“I believe it.” Éomer made another weary swipe of his hand across his face. “At least I think I do. Too many things are changing too quickly, and I fear a failure to keep in step shall result in my simply being dragged along behind everyone else like an unhorsed sot.”

“Then maybe there is wisdom in her request to stay behind and out of your way. The time apart may provide you the focus you need to regain your footing.”

The tired lines on Éomer’s face tightened again. “And why must time apart involve setting her on a perilous road?”

“The mission carries little chance of peril. Peace talks, even with Harad, are nothing compared to everything she has survived to get this far. You know this.” Éomer brushed past Boromir to return to the table, but the captain’s frank reproach pursued him. “Separation from her is what you dread, not the Southrons.”

So furiously did Éomer scowl at the table surface that for a moment Boromir thought he might turn the heavy shelf over in a fit of rage. Instead he seized the wine jug, poured himself a gobletful, and drank it in two forceful gulps. 

“I had hoped you could give me counsel on how I might change her mind, and convince her to simply come home,” he finally said. “Perhaps even quell her doubts in the future she can have with me.”

Underneath the anger and frustration, Éomer’s raw misery lay bare to Boromir, and suddenly he felt a swell of compassion for the young king. Would that he could offer a swift resolution to his predicament, instead of mere commiseration for the challenges that still lay ahead. 

“However hard it is to hear, separation is the soundest advice I can give you today,” Boromir said. “Time and distance are most effective at calming the storm in one's mind, so that the heart may have its chance to be properly heard. Many have learned this from experience, myself included. I believe it shall be the same for your lady.”

Éomer's shoulders heaved in a ponderous sigh. “If only it did not feel like such a gamble.”

Boromir could not help a chuckle. “Then I regret I must tell his majesty, that you cast your first of many dice the moment you let her take your heart. But in the end, you shall be the one to decide how much you are willing to risk, and you alone decide when you are done.”

The anguish that resurged on Éomer's face was almost a relief to Boromir. The King of Rohan was wise enough to already know the graver half of the truth: that his new throne was in many ways a cage, and there was very little a good ruler could afford to risk in pursuit of his own desires. 

* * *

“Take the names of any fools who might give you trouble,” Léodor said, unhooking the reins of his horse to start leading it across the muddy yard. “I can sort them all out on our return.”

You laughed as you followed him to the edge of the farmland property, marked by the scorched ruins of what had once been a granary. “Do you really think I could wait that long without sorting such fools out myself?” 

“Anyone with the gall to harass a rider of the king’s Éored deserves a second dose of thrashing, or a third or fourth.” Your friend turned to grasp your forearm and give it a firm squeeze. “Although I sincerely hope these men of Gondor would know better, for their own sakes.”

“They are our allies, now more than ever before,” you reminded him. “And I have every confidence in their courtesy and hospitality.”

“Perhaps if you were less of a recluse and better at making friends, I would not worry so.”

Your knuckles barely grazed his sleeve as he darted away and promptly swung up to the safety of his saddle, chortling and calling, “You are only proving my point, sister!” 

“Waste not a thought or care on me, and focus them all on your family!” you retorted, and stepped back as he spurred his horse forward. “Westu Léodor hál!”

You watched him gallop off across the plains of Pelennor, back to the distant towers of the White City. Tomorrow, he and the rest of the Éored would finalize preparations for the greatly anticipated journey home. But as soon as he heard that you had been tasked with staying behind, to remain with the body of Théoden King, Léodor alone took the time to come looking for you. 

Whatever his suspicions regarding Éomer's selection of you as the one to leave in Gondor, Léodor spoke nothing of them. He was content to spend his entire visit sharing the cask of ale he brought, and talking your ears off about all the things he planned to do with his wife and son and infant daughter upon their reunion.

How far your relationship had come, you mused, as you watched the shrinking speck finally melt  into the shadows of the deepening twilight. With him and with the rest of the men in your company, when you had once sworn, in tears hidden, that they would never accept you. Now their departure would sting as though you had been orphaned for the third time. 

It is only for several weeks, you told yourself, to ease the weight of doubt that sat upon your chest. As you turned to walk back toward the cottage, a fierce wind rose and ripped off the cloak that was loosely draped over your shoulders. With a startled cry you grabbed for it, but not quickly enough to save it from landing in a large puddle.

You retrieved the soaked fabric from the mud with a sigh. A fat raindrop landed squarely on the top of your uncovered head, and was immediately followed by another and another. Spontaneous rain had been pouring on and off over Gondor since the King’s coronation, and you heard the locals welcome and praise this tumultuous weather as a blessing, a sign of war’s filth being washed away to cleanse the lands for rebirth. 

Shielding your eyes from the sudden deluge, you looked up at the roiling clouds overhead, further entranced by the sight of jagged lightning flashing over the White Mountains.  But when your gaze dropped back down to the horizon, you were alarmed to notice a horsed figure crossing the fields through the storm, approaching fast, in your direction. 

It was him. Without proof of his face or voice, or even the support of logic, you just knew. It was him. 

The very thought of that froze you, mind and body, in place. Pale and immobile and increasingly drenched, you stood like a deeply rooted tree while the rider drew closer and closer, on a horse powerful enough to sustain its determined gait over the sodden ground and lashing winds. Dumbfounded and dazed, you remained, until at last he came to a stop just several yards away. He dismounted Firefoot, his heavy boots squelching in the muck, and that sound snapped you to your senses. 

“My lord,” you rushed forward with the soiled cloak twisted uselessly between your hands. “The stables are around the back. Let me take Firefoot there while you get out of this rain.”

“I shall stable him,” Éomer said sternly, but not unkindly, to warn you against arguing. “Go and wait for me inside the house.” 

Without speaking another word or sparing a backward glance, you obeyed your king. You shut the cottage door behind you to keep out the ill weather, hung your wet cloak on a peg, and crouched by the warmth of the fireplace to dry off as best as you could. You kept your jittery hands busy feeding the flames with more wood, but your mind refused to be calmed as easily. 

What is he doing here?! The agreement had been for you to report to him the following day, to receive in full detail your last set of orders before the entire Rohan contingent departed. Éomer had granted your request to stay behind quickly enough, and with so little argument that you had hoped perhaps the issue between you was settled, at least for the time being.

If he was not prepared to completely abandon his fatuous notion of asking you to marry him, then time apart would surely set his mind back to good sense. The Éomer you knew could always be trusted to do the right thing. You clung firmly to this thought while you waited the agonizing minutes for him to return from the stables. 

As soon as he entered, you offered him the last clean towel you could find to dry himself with. He raised his eyebrows at your attempt to give him royal treatment, but graciously swiped the cloth several times over his face, neck, and hair, before tossing it over the back of a chair. 

“So this is the place.” He peeled off his riding cloak to reveal clothing underneath that was just as soaked as yours; he may as well not have bothered with the outer garment at all. “You said it belonged to Lady Aerdis’s late…uncle?”

“A relative of sorts,” you said. When you confided in your new friend your wistful desire to be housed outside the city, where you could have more quiet and solitude, she had been quick to offer the empty cottage in near Pelennor that was recently willed to her by deceased relations. “There are things I can work on to help restore it while I am here. Even my meager skills will serve a farm better than sitting on my hands in the city barracks watching everyone else in their labors. I wish to remain useful, and do my part in the rebuilding.”

“I understand. You have explained all that, and well,” Éomer said slowly. “But regretfully, I must rescind the permission I granted for you to live outside Minas Tirith. You can stay here for the remainder of this week, to rest and do as you please. But afterward, I would like for you to go back to the city and remain there until my return.”

You bit back a protest, determined, now more than ever, to reaffirm your position as his servant. “May I ask what I am to do there, then?”

“Lord Boromir petitioned me to loan you to his company, and I granted it. He shall assign your duties, and you will take your orders from him while I am gone.” 

Although it surprised you to hear this, it was a welcome prospect. Of all the men in Gondor you liked and trusted Lord Boromir the most, having known him since you were just a girl, albeit not intimately. This would provide an opportunity to improve on the connection. “Lord Boromir honors me with his request. And as always, it shall please me to do as my king commands.”

Éomer responded to your formal pledge with a weary sigh. He braced his hands on the back of the chair in front of him, and the way his knuckles whitened in the tightness of his grip, while he searched for his next words, did not escape your notice. 

“Make no mistake, this command does not align with what I desire,” he said thickly. “Leaving without you violates every instinct in my body, but if that is what must be done to make you see reason, then I shall bear it.”

“Reason?” you repeated stiffly. “What conclusion are you hoping I might come to?”

Éomer raised his eyes from the floor to meet yours across the room. “I know you believe that putting distance between us may somehow alter how I feel about you. But I in turn believe the time apart will help you accept how deeply in love you are with me.”

The heat that flooded your face burned through your mask of composure. “I am not--”

“Enough.” The sadness that bled into that single word made it a plea instead of an order. “I did not come to reopen discussions on the matter. Especially not if denials are all you have left to say to me.”

“Then pray tell, what has my lord come for?” you challenged him behind your icy courtesy. “How else may I serve you, Éomer King?”

The hurt that crossed his face came on so suddenly, looked so profound and real, it was as though you had physically struck him. He stared at you in a dead silence, and you forced yourself to hold his gaze while you held your breath, guilt sinking into your gut from the knowledge that you were the wretch who had gone too far. 

“Nothing,” he said quietly. “Clearly there is nothing more to say, other than farewell.”

He picked up his cloak, turned, and left, leaving you utterly dumbfounded, staring at the door that slammed shut behind him.

The longest seconds of your life passed before your shock and indecision were overcome by a wild hysteria that made your entire body grow cold.

You leapt for the door and wrenched it open, and stepped into the downpour in time to see him vanish around the corner of the house, heading back to the stables. 

The loss of him from your sight smashed through your bravado, and you cried out into the storm. 

“Éomer!!”

Before you could grasp your reasoning for why you did it, or what you planned to do next, he reappeared, every footstep leaving puddles as his approach backed you up into the cottage. His eyes bore down at you, his expression now guarded and inscrutable and expectant. Gusting wind drove in sprinkles of rain through the door left open and ignored. 

I am sorry. The whisper sitting on the tip of your tongue was smothered by a hostile inner voice. 

Let him go. It is your duty. It is what’s right.

But your stolid face collapsed under the weight of your anguish. A grimace squeezed out the tears that blinded your eyes, finally betraying your shameful truth. I do love you, Éomer. 

Gentle fingers settled lightly over your lips, stilling their feeble quivering. A voice even warmer and more tender than this touch eased your struggle.

“I do not need words. This is enough.”

As the hardened pads of those fingers brushed across the plane of your cheek, you closed your eyes and at once forgot all else that existed. Such was the power of his touch that for years you so vigilantly avoided, until that fateful moment of weakness after the coronation exposed your secret. That moment could never be undone, no matter how hard you tried to bury the truth now.

Éomer murmured your name, his breath warm on your temple, and then his hands stilled where they lightly cupped your face. In that pause lay a question, and the last time you answered it, you had hurt him. Foolish liar that you were.

“Yes.” The whisper passed from your lips to his as his mouth wasted no time seeking yours. You clasped your hands around the back of his neck, urging him closer as your own hunger surged. You felt the tremor that ran through his shoulders when you slipped your tongue against his. How could you have ever chosen to cause him pain, when you could have given him this instead?

He broke the kiss to let you catch your breath, but nuzzled your chin upward to gain access to your neck, so his lips could continue their quest to the hollow of your throat. You gasped at the scrape of his teeth on your collarbone, then moaned when he remedied his offense with reverent strokes of his tongue. His arms wrapped fully around your waist, pulling you greedily against him, fingers threading and tugging at your hair as he moved his worship to your shoulders.

But it was your touch, the scrabble of your hands over his hips and stomach as you held on to him for balance, that elicited a low growl. In just a few hurried steps, he backed you to the furthest corner of the cottage, until the side of the bed hit the back of your legs.

Your name was still the only thing he could utter, muffled in between the kisses he could not stop lavishing on every bit of your skin he could reach. Your hands found their way to his hips again, this time  sneaking underneath the wet fabric that clung to his torso, then brazenly gliding upward, past his belly to the taut muscles of his chest, high enough for your thumb to circle his nipple.

An ungentlemanly word suddenly rumbled from Éomer King's throat, so startled was he by the sensual touch. Within moments his shirt lay discarded on the floor, your back made contact with the mattress, and there he was, leaning over you, bare from the waist up to your hungry eyes. You gave yourself an extra second to appreciate the sight before hooking a hand over his nape to yank him back into a kiss. The fervor in his response left you writhing and whimpering and completely vulnerable in your weakness. 

A deep haze settled over you as you began to lose yourself to the pleasure of his ministrations. With every inch of you, you wanted this, and the way your body reacted to his every action, shaking in desperation for more, would surely tell him that. And yet… yet as you felt his fingers grope for the fastenings of your dress, felt his palm brush the back of your knee to your thigh, felt his hardness press against your hip… something inside of you jerked in reawakened panic.

“Éomer. W-wait.”

So soft was the protest, you were not even sure you had said the words aloud. But almost immediately, Éomer stopped and pulled back. He took one look at you, your disheveled state, and whatever expression lay on your face, and he sat up fully, turning away, dragging your heart out of your chest with him.

“Éomer, please. I am… I just…”

“No, I understand and I agree. To carry on would be unwise.”

He rubbed both hands roughly over his face, shaking away the stupor induced by his desire.

“All these years I have ordered the men to give you the respect you are due. I cannot risk your virtue or reputation now, however long I have wanted this. Wanted you.”

You moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. “You are my King, and it is my duty to protect you and your reputation. We must behave prudently.”

He nodded, but still looked so pained you could not help but lift your hand to try to soothe the scowl from his face. He angled his head to kiss the inside of your wrist.

“I will have you,” he muttered, his diverted gaze making it seem more a promise to himself than to you. But when he turned his eyes back on you, the wanton lust pooling in them stirred the heat in your belly. “I will wait for the right circumstances, however long it may take, but I will have you.”

He rose and walked a few steps across the room, perhaps in need of distance from you. As he stood closer to the fireplace, the light illuminated a view so rarely seen by anyone, many people in Rohan had come to believe that Éomer was simply hale and hard of body beyond the limits of mortal men. 

The numerous scars that decorated his body testified to both his fragility and his strength. Many of his wounds had been tended to by you on the battlefield, carrying terrible memories that were now also moments of pride and achievement that you shared with him. 

Éomer seemed to feel your intent gaze upon him, and he stretched out a hand to you, beckoning you to rejoin him. As soon as you were within reach, he wrapped his arms around you again, drawing you against him, sighing contently as your touch drifted over the bare skin of his chest and shoulders.

Your hand moved with intention, skimming down to his lower abdomen, probing carefully for the large scar you knew sat just below his ribcage. That injury was less than two years old. It still amazed you how it had managed to heal with little issue, under the constant strain of the many violent battles Éomer fought in since. 

So close. A chill ran through you as the memory rose unbidden: you pressing down hard to staunch the bleeding, screaming for someone to help carry the barely conscious Marshal to the nearest shelter, where you could safely attempt to clean and suture the wound. If the orc blade had sunk in only a fraction of an inch deeper, it would have been beyond anyone's power to save him. You came too close to losing him that day.

Eomer's lips brushed against the shell of your ear as he interrupted your reminiscence with a whisper. “How can you still doubt that we belong together, when already you are part of me?” 

Your fingers passed over several other scars from injuries you had tended to over the years, and came to rest over the tattoo on his upper right arm. The black dragon curled around the edge of his shoulder was identical in design and location to the mark borne by every rider in your Éored. Your possession of that dragon mark bound you to Éomer intimately, but also defined your role in his life. Sharing his bed, or even being with him just once, was not your place.

“None of these give me any right to claim you,” you said softly. “You must still marry. And it is your duty to marry well.”

He caught your elbow as you started to move your hand away, and guided it back to slide over his waist, to rest over the scar once more, willing you to hold fast to the memory it carried, and hold fast to him.

“What does it mean to marry? Is it not just the giving of one's entire self--mind and body, heart and soul--to another?”

He hooked a finger underneath your chin, urging your downcast gaze to rise and meet his.

“How am I to dispose of things that are no longer in my possession? I have long been taken, solely and utterly, by you.”

And with that gaze he set upon you, you wondered: how many glances must have he given you in secret all these years, with eyes that burned with something more than the devotion of one comrade-in-arms to another? What willful blindness had you clung to for years, for you not to have noticed it?

“I must fulfill my duties to Rohan, this is true. But not even a king can be asked to do the impossible.”

“But to wed a great king to a lowly servant--” You shook your head. “Many would argue that is the real impossibility.”

A new expression akin to anger flashed across Éomer’s face. Before you could wonder what you might have done wrong, he dropped to his knees before you, both knees, his hands wrapped tightly around yours.

“My lord!” you cried, aghast that he would debase himself, even in private. You tried to force him back up, but he would not budge.

“Never speak of yourself as lowly again,” he admonished. “King or peasant, there is nothing more lowly or humbled than a man so wretchedly in love, as I am with you.”

“Éomer…” You sank to the floor with him. “If only things were so simple. I wish it could all happen as you say, but I just do not see how. I do not know what can be done.”

“Let me hold your love for a while longer, and wait for me,” he said gently. “That is all I ask. The rest is mine to accomplish. As long as your heart is mine, and I know you have given it to me freely, I will fight for my right to keep it.”

You felt his grip around your fingers grow tense in the long seconds of silence that followed. At last, you brought his knuckles to your lips, kissing the hands you adored with such devotion.

“When you leave, you shall take my heart with you,” you whispered into his palm. “But I fear it will be a greater challenge than you believe, to keep others from wresting such an unsuitable offering from your hands.” 

“They may certainly try, if they wish to test me.” The ice in his tone unsettled you, even though that veiled threat was certainly not for you, while the warm caress on your cheek was. “Not for a moment will I appear unclear or undecided when it comes to my intentions towards you. I will never make that mistake again.”

“B-but the Council of Eorl. The lords…”

“They answer to the King,” Éomer interrupted. “Do not privileges, as well as duties, come with this crown? Trust me. Please.” He bowed to rest his forehead against yours. “While we are parted, I will prove to you that it can be done, that I will do whatever I must to marry you, and to honor and protect you thereafter.”

“Marry?” you murmured. The idea still seemed no more than a ludicrous fantasy. But then Éomer kissed you again, deeply, as though determined to memorize the taste of your lips, urging you to focus on the present moment. 

Because he was yours, even if just for that night. Even if by dawn, it could all crumble under the pressures of the world outside these walls. Éomer loved you, and held you in such high regard to want you as his wife and queen. You would swear to anyone that this knowledge alone was already a dream fulfilled. 

And yet. If you were brave enough to hope, maybe…just maybe, this would not be the last impossibility to come true for you. 

* * *

They do not know. Hundreds of Gondor’s citizens bearing streamers and flowers lined the streets of Minas Tirith that morning to join King Elessar in sending off the departing Eorlingas. But it occurred to Éomer how strange it felt that none of them had any awareness of a matter that was not only monumental for him personally, but carried significant consequences for all of Rohan.

Soon that will change, the young king vowed to himself. Soon his Council will hear the truth, and afterward all of Rohan, and then the rest of their allies. But for the moment, discretion--no matter how bitter the pretense tasted. 

No one except for Lord Boromir and his betrothed, the lovely Lady Aerdis, who both stood next to her, understood what truly lay underneath the courteous gestures exchanged between the King of Rohan and his shield-maiden. A simple bow, an exchange of a few words, and a locking of gazes that was all too brief. Had they not spent that one evening together, Éomer would have remained trapped in the false belief of her indifference towards him. The memory of her kisses would have to suffice for a while, and he could only hope he had given her enough to remember him by, as well. 

He brushed the edge of his hand over his lips just as he turned away, and forced his feet to carry him down the line of assembled well-wishers. 

A noticeable hush descended on the crowd of onlookers as Éomer came to the end of the road where, closest to the ruins of the Great Gate, the King of Gondor himself met him, flanked by none other than Imrahil, the Prince of Dol Amroth, and his only daughter.

“Lady Lothíriel.” As Éomer took the hand she courteously offered him and brushed a kiss on her fingers, he became aware of the wan smiles that surrounded them, and the unsubtle tittering of a few ladies watching. “Your presence this morning is an unexpected and most delightful gift.”

Lothíriel was astonishingly beautiful indeed, with such radiant grace and sweet smiles, that it would not have surprised Éomer if many citizens of the White City came out just to catch a glimpse of her. “I wish you, Lady Éowyn, and all your men a safe journey, your Grace,” she said. “And may you have great success in your labors, so that we can soon celebrate your speedy return.”

“You are kind, my lady. I certainly hope for the same,” replied Éomer. “We leave behind treasure beyond price here and shall be eager to return for our own.”

Two Rohan lords had already swooped in to engage Imrahil in quiet conversation, and only stepped aside when Éomer himself approached to exchange farewells. Éomer’s admiration for the Prince only grew the more he learned about him and spent time with him, but the unabashed thirst of his counselors for Dol Amroth’s friendship irritated him. Yet another issue he intended to settle in the ordering of his House’s affairs. 

Finally, Éomer came before Elessar, who embraced him tightly and honored him with a bow, from one king to another. “Worry not, my brother,” the man once called Aragorn said quietly to him. “I shall see to it that they are cared for, these ones whom you so dearly love.”

He smiled at the look of mixed wonder and apprehension on Éomer’s face, and dipped his head in another show of reassurance and of farewell.

With that, the Rohirrim set off on the North-way in a procession over a mile long, accompanied by the fanfare from the people that continued to line the road stretching across Pelennor. Countless flags in a multitude of colors and sigils from the different regions of Gondor fluttered in the air, and from every direction, enthusiastic cheering and waving followed the Riders across the fields.

At the head of the procession, behind his standard bearer and with Éowyn at his side, Éomer quickly fell into a brooding silence that did not escape his sister’s notice. 

“I truly did not think I would ever see the day when the two of you would be willingly separated,” she said lightly. When Éomer looked at her with raised eyebrows, she shrugged. “I am sure you have good reasons for choosing her to stay behind with our uncle.” 

“Many reasons,” Éomer grunted. 

Éowyn regarded him thoughtfully. “Has the time finally come when you would allow yourself to be open with me about these reasons? And the other concerns weighing on your mind and heart? It is just you and I now, Éomer,” she said softly, stretching out her hand to him.  “I may not have uncle’s experience or Théodred’s cunning, but I love you beyond words, and would do anything to see you happy. Let me help you.”

Éomer smiled at this, and reached over to take her hand and squeeze it. “Perhaps I can aspire to the happiness you have found with Lord Faramir.”

“Having my affections stolen by a High Man was not what I aspired to,” said Éowyn, trying to look annoyed but unable to hide the blush on her cheeks. “But love, it seems, is the wildest beast of all. It will not be tamed, or bridled, or even reasoned with. It goes where it wills. Éomer…” Éowyn’s sweet face turned stern. “You have suffered enough, and have been forced to carry so many burdens, not least of all our uncle’s crown, which I know you never wanted.”

“It is my honor to take the throne in Uncle and Théodred’s stead,” Éomer said firmly. “And why do you make assumptions about the things I want?”

“I know who it is you have wanted, for a long time now,” Éowyn said with a stout confidence that took Éomer aback. “You are discreet, brother. But I have watched you and looked out for you, more closely than you realize.”

Éomer shook his head. “I am still learning the many ways I have been underestimating you, Éowyn. Soon I shall believe myself unworthy of your care or help.”

“Someone has to care for you, during the frequent times you would not.” Éowyn glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were still out of hearing range of the rest of his Éored. “Especially now that you have left her behind.” 

Éomer pressed his lips in a tight line and returned his gaze to the road ahead. “I will be back,” he said. “There is much to do in Rohan before then, but with Uncle waiting in the Hallows, I can hardly afford to dawdle or delay.” 

And she is waiting. Éomer caught a glimpse of his sister’s suppressed smile that told him she had already thought the same thing. Another person with strong opinions to contend with.

Éomer spurred Firefoot forward to signal the standard bearer, who promptly blew one quick blast on his horn. As the King took off in a steady gallop, the thunder of hooves rose behind him as nearly a thousand other Rohirrim picked up their pace to match his, drowning out the excited shouts of the Gondorians that started them off at last to their journey home.

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[nostalgink]

Due to some past trauma from previous fandoms, I'm not particularly one to engage in fandom related discourse anymore, but when you not only name-drop me, but continue to perpetuate lies about not only me, but also my friends.... that's when I'd rather "clear my name" than allow for a nasty rumor to circulate when I know it's out there.

I want to go through everything that went down in order as best as possible. Even though I’ve spent so much time on this receipt post, truly this issue was something very small, the root of the issue lies with CookieRuby herself, given she decided to continue to create and perpetuate lies and rumors about myself and others. I know she will most likely continue to make up whatever she wants to have happened to obtain pity from those who do not know the context, but I thought that if she was going to do so regardless, I might as well let everyone know mine and my friends’ side of things. Because sadly I got some very worried and confused messages wondering if the statements were truthful. Hopefully this reassures most that they are in fact not.

I also would like to say while I am deeply upset that someone would lie about me like this and continue to emotionally manipulate, then double down on it all… I still do want to say that if you know people who act as such to please help them get the help they need. The timeline of this basically showcases us interacting at 3 points ever, but its obvious in her own obsessive world she has created, it has been brewing with her much longer. Which all of this is genuinely concerning and I hope she gets help. Despite my anger.

In the beginning

I believe I knew about them prior to them joining the old Darkwing Duck RP server I used to be active in back in 2022. If you know me, I follow practically every artist in the fandom. Especially as the fandom loses traction and there are less and less of us actively creating works. So naturally I followed. I even found her oc interesting. I mean why wouldn’t I? Magentus, while more of an oc now than he was in the past, at the end of the day still is my sona so to speak. I love seeing others put themselves into their own work in their own ways. Unfortunately once I got to know them, their attitude towards others when it came to their oc soured my interest.

In a lot of her posts, she makes claims towards my friends and I (as well as I suppose vague unknown other “harrassers” prior to us. I only put it in air quotes because the amount of lying she does, ironic I know, makes me question the validity of anything she says.) that we actively hated and made fun of her for disliking Drakepad. As you can see in the screenshots provided, that is exactly the oppposite.

I also want to mention the screenshots here are an anonymous friend’s server that I used to be active in. In the screenshots provided by Soy, it refers to their old server. Though I believe there is a point in our screenshots where one is referenced in another. (I am currently not looking at them, so I can recall which is referenced in which.) I wanted to make sure there was no confusion with that. These were provided to me by Drake. I could not find them on my own. This was her asking about playing her oc initally. and some stuff I didn't screenshot previously I think?

On Soy’s Side of things

Initially I had another draft of this whole rant, but because of these screenshots I got so peeved that I spiraled into a mad disorganized rage due to the ridiculousness of all of this. So I thought it would be best to rework my words into a more composed response. Personally I had read the first set of messages after they had happened, but when it comes to the discord screenshots, these were new to me. We were all suspicious of her potentially using an alt account on tumblr to ask as a “friend”. Because while I cannot say the same for my friends, I had online friends when I was young who pulled very similar stunts to continue to emotionally manipulate me into remaining their friend and under their thumb. I do not fuck with that sort of behavior anymore. And to note from Soy they said that they had joined their old dead DWD server and immediately dmed them. The obsessive manner of her continuing whatever game she thinks this is is a genuine concern and big alarm sounding that she needs to talk to someone. She is older than me, but I have already dealt with extremely similar people in my preteens, so it’s sad to see someone being so immature like this. (I hit the 30 post limit so the screenshots will be in the reblogs for anything missing)

responses to tumblr posts

Starting with the post that finally prompted this response, I want to cover my personal opinion of each thing mentioned. Unfortunately as you will see, I do not have proof for my own ponytown run in personally, but if you read all of the messages provided, you can probably tell who’s more truthful considering it’s a 1-0 with me having evidence and her none. You’ll notice she remains vague when she can, which is most of the time.

First we need to all heavily note that this was a supposed dream. She is her character Hannah in her dream, alongside Drake. Soy, an anon, and myself appear as “hooded people” in her dream and do an incantation on her in order to curse her to not be with Drake. I suppose this causes a curse that forces Drakepad to be real in her dream? Then we say quotes she is claiming we said. I will get to that in a moment. This is a summary so that if she deletes the post linked, you still have me explaining it. (I wrote this last night, unfortunately as of right now while I was acquiring links she did in fact delete the post. Likely because of my warning post from the other day. So she is stalking my account still.) Then her own oddly crafted happy ending where the spell is broken and she gets her ending of support.

Now I’ll cover the “quotes”

“Drakepad is the only true ship”

You will here her claim people saying this to her often. In reference to my friends, such claims have been proven false. We supported her opinion despite our own. Even comforting her and letting her know its awful for anyone to try and pressure her over such a simple difference in taste. Also adding the fact we supported her oc x canon even though she could not RP it in the old server.

“Darkwing DENIED YOU” with her claiming it is something I said to her in Ponytown.

I will go more in depth in exactly what I said in ponytown further down, but I never once said this. She insisted that my opinion was that her oc x canon was not valid. I was Negaduck in game, then I specifically swapped to my Magentus pony and stated how hypocritical it would be for me to say such a thing. Then proceeded to let her know, though I was annoyed, that it’s alright for her to not ship something she does not like, but continuing to bring up that you hate a ship to people you know don’t mind it or even ship it themselves is rude. Then she proceeded to do something I can only describe as something I am seasoned to as the son of an emotionally inmature mother. Again I will elaborate in the ponytown section.

“She gaved me PTSD by her DrakePad hate. And with her tumblr post who HURTED my friends saying we “FORCED” Drakepad on our server she lied.” Which was aparently what Soy said.

I cannot speak to how soy feels completely on this, but I know they did not develop post traumatic stress disorder from this. Nor have they said this quote if you could not guess. I believe the friend was the one in the screenshots between them and soy on discord I shared above. Again, I do not trust that these are her actual friends. This is not to say she couldn’t potentially have friends who agree with her, I just don’t trust her truthfulness especially with said discord dms. But you as the reader can make your own opinion on that. From what I was told by Soy, they joined (I believe after they realized they couldn’t do oc x canon with our Darkwing in the old server, which was his choice to make.) and asked if they could do darkwing x hannah. Soy and others kindly let her know that they were working on a drakepad relationship, but saw no problem in doing dw x lp x hannah. She accepted I think? But regardless then returned to our server to both brag about how someone finally let her, but soon ranted about how uncomfortable poly stuff made them. Some of this is word of mouth, but you can see other parts referenced back above.

“You deserve no friends.” by an anon

Again, I question the validity of this claim, but assuming someone actually said this to her this is horrible to say to someone. Back in 2020 I dealt with prosh*ppers in a problematic fandom harrasing me because I outwardly was against their adult x minor ship. Unfortunately if you know what fandom I mean. (keep guesses to yourself, I don’t want to bring it up in public.) You know it’s very popular unfortunately. I was sent death threats and people telling me how unworthy of friends, love, or anything they could throw at me. I would never say this to another nor condone saying this to another. Even if CookieRuby is in the wrong here. Everyone deserves the chance to have friends and flourish as a person. I’m angry but I’d never wish such a thing. And while I’m at it I would like to suggest to you as the reader that if you are considering doing such a thing don’t. Block her, move on. It’s not worth it. I’m only here right now to give context, then I’m done. I do not want anyone going after her. I’m just here to show my receipts, not to harrass her. I’d just prove her point if I did that. I’m not that sort of person.

And I was shown her speaking about her inferiority complex. I do not have one, so I cannot speak to how true this is, but considering this was March 2023...it seems despite her admitting this, she has obviously continued to lie about people. So I don’t know if she has that complex, but she is a chronic liar at the very least so there’s that I guess.

Ponytown run ins

The provided screenshots below are from before what I’ll be describing to you. I had to re-listen to a voice note I sent after this. It’s all I have besides the discord message of me realizing it was her. I do not want to attach it just because I keep my voice to myself most times. I’m shy gang.

Starting off I was just finishing my Magentus pony. For a while they had a color palette I had just chose myself without reference and I was finally giving them their reference colors. I was returning to the darkwing rock circle I was hoping to start a darkwing pony hangout at, when I saw a Darkwing pony approach. Now, I don’t know if this was coincidence of perhaps she knows about the hangout from my story. Considering she has alts, she probably was checking my story, but that is speculation. I immediately am eager to friend them because of their pony. But of course the first words from her are “why do you have me blocked?” my mood immediately changes as it hit me that someone had told me prior she had an account. Likely due to the incident in the other ponytown screenshots. I ask to confirm if it’s her and she says yes.

So I simply put that she cause discomfort to my friends and I and that I use the block liberally. During this I am scrambling to try and block her on ponytown too, but unfortunately my block list is too full because I have been blocking Dream SMP ponies left and right. So I decide maybe here is where I can put my foot down on things. I also mentioned a side thing about how the old server I was in had a policy about posting over people, but she seemed to focus on this more. (I do not recall if this was enforced at the time, but still it was focused on way more than the main issue I was bringing up.) I mentioned how she’d post over others. I told her that it wasn’t my main point and to forget that and move onto the main issue. I explain to her as adult as I can back to her Drakepad issue that “You were being rude to people because you could get your ship. We tried to be nice and I just blocked you because I didn’t want to deal with that [anymore].” and the only thing she got from that was me saying “rude” I suppose so she responded saying “oh so I’m the toxic one?” and boy have I heard this one get pulled on me before. It’s giving emotional manipulation. I calmly reply “That is not what I said.” I said something else that I couldn’t recall, though likely just me restating what happened, then she said “well I guess I’m sorry-” I was on a call at this time with my boyfriend while he was on break as this went down, so I began speaking to him irl. I guess I did not respond to her in time because she continued with the classic backhanded comment of “Since everyone wants me to apologize anyway” or something to that effect. It was in that way that someone who does this wants you to just accept the apology even though it was not a meaningful one. She does not have to apologize, no one is making her, but that was her attitude about it. I thought I’d just end it off there with a joke to myself so I didn’t lose it. I went “I have a mother, I can be emotionally manipulated at home, I don’t need this game from you. Bye.” and logged off. Honestly there is when it actually got personal. Somewhere in the middle she insisted what I had mentioned earlier with us hating oc x canon and drakepad and all that and that statement from earlier still follows.

I even have a later note worrying there would be a post on her tumblr, but I checked once and there was nothing so I thought maybe she had gotten over herself…..we are here now so nope. Also this was 2/2/2024 for timeline’s sake.

I was transcribing from a voice note, so if it seems like there are any holes in that ask me, I’ll try to fill in what I missed.

Misc

Lastly here are things I did not know how to organize into the rant. As well as some people making mention to their experiences with her in reply to my Instagram story. I swore I would get all I could and I meant it.

And anyways thank you to those who actually took the time to read all of this mess. I don’t know how I did drama back in the day this has truly been so exhausting to write, but it was important that I did. Honestly despite my anger this is really dumb to have to make, but I do not like being lied about. I especially don’t like my friends also being lied about. And again just block her and do not engage. I do not condone harassment of any kind. I am going to go sleep as I finish writing this. This was a tiring experience. She’ll probably continue but now I am satisfied knowing we’re all on the same page.

[gomzdrawfr]

want to join the fandom cause it seems fun seeing fanarts and you and others interacting but I don't know how...and with the whole ai thing im scared...

my advice: just do it

really! sometimes all you really need is a leap of faith, and that was exactly how I dropped into the cod fandom. When I joined the ghoap discord server I talked to one of the artist I really like and respected from my lurking time (hi @bressynonym) aaaand the rest is history

I didnt know how to draw properly, nor digitally, all I did was scribbling on OneNote (yeah!) and rambled about cod characters, it is daunting and it is scary to interact but after a while? you may just be able to find someone to brainrot together with

start small, like commenting, reblogging, talking, chatting- doesn't have to be towards artist/writers, it could be the art/fic enjoyers!

you need to put yourself out there if you want something

as to if you want to start in the fandom as a creator, here's some more tips (which are all based on my experience, I am no pro at doing this, hell Im still learning myself, and I am by no means speaking these on behalf on others!)

establish a goal: what are you making? fandom based? original creations?

as with starting new, everything may take a while for stuff to happen, you'll feel like you're speaking to the void at times (esp with original arts, but do know that your stuff do get perceive by others as time goes, I would advise to draw fandom stuff as a beginning to get that boost going if you want! or else it's going to be quite hard to get things rolling)

imo this is hardest part of any new creator, you'll have to bear with it and try not to give up (but I understand how incredibly demotivating it could get, there were times when I stopped posting about Raven entirely, but eventually I post it anyway cuz surely someone out there will like them, it just takes a lot of patiences and perseverance)

btw, engagement can also vary from time to time, you may be booming for a bit, then suddenly you dont, it is a cycle that will bound to happen

take rest regularly, and I mean a break from social media because numbers, discourse and everything can get to you, very quickly (I cannot emphasise this enough)

the numbers are not worth it over your mental health (comes with practice to really solidify this thought)

study the algorithm (pain): see what other creators are doing to get where they are, what tags are they using in their post? what features/niche do people like?(this is, if you really want to grab some form of engagement, bcuz reminder in the end you are creating art for yourself first!)

example: I think posts would get more reach if you tag it with the ship name first, followed by the characters' name (doesn't work all the time tho)

that's the thing about algorithm, it is ever-changing, and you'll have to learn to adapt with it when it does!

expanding on that, studying algorithm could be about ships (for example, ghostsoap is most popular in the fandom), or really good rendered art/flashed out fic that leaves your jaw on the floor, or ships that gets lesser attention in general which puts you, who make content about them, easier to be brought into the light (like Faralex)

bUT, it can also be personality!

(again, not saying this is meant for everyone and strictly from my own experience + what I observe) for me, I made up the lack of my art by establishing a personality: a wild panda who yaps about price and their oc and also kinda everywhere in the place (just like this post LOL), OR you're the person who named themselves after Soap's ash particle number OR you're the one who likes bottom Ghost- literally anything goes, you want to make an impression in different ways, some more funny/goofier than others but it works (be mindful and stay respectful tho, dont wanna be the asshole in the fandom now do ya?)

efforts ≠ engagement (not all the time, but most time) and this is a fact. Sometimes, you can't expect a piece you did for 10+ hours to get thousands views and likes, especially in a fandom space. You need to understand algorithm is that wonky. (very disheartening, but again, you make the art for you and the few others who genuinely likes them, and those people can go a long way) be mentally prepared for such events, and try not to beat yourself up too much for it

ultimately tho, do it, do it scared but do it anyways and again, draw the things that bring you joy, I hope these could be helpful in some ways!

[ineed-to-sleep]

Hi!! I Love your art sm. Do you have any tutorials on how you draw heads? I always struggle getting the proportions right, even after trying the lumos method and using reference photos?

Thank you and I love your ocs!

Thank you!! <3

I've been thinking about how I was gonna try to help you here tbh, because I myself don't really have like a, set static process for drawing heads jfkakdk so I didn't wanna get here and just sound like that owl meme yk

Even though that's kind of basically how it goes jvvjvkkv I draw a circle, draw one or two guidelines, then just follow my heart <3 but that's not very useful advice I don't think.......

So what I can recommend, which is just what worked for me, is this:

Practice drawing the head from various angles and making it look consistent. I've been practicing this recently and it's been massively helping me understand the head's proportions better. I think this works regardless of whether you're drawing it realistically or heavily stylized, all that matters is that you aim to keep the proportions and angles looking right

(personal example I'm still working on just to show you what I mean + a handy ref someone posted on pinterest of this asaro head)

Using stuff like the Loomis method is good, but there are other methods you can try out that could help you more! I've seen this one from Sinix with the mask method, and there's also a box method on Proko's channel. Try out some different methods and see if any of them work for you

Also, measuring!! It'll go a long way when studying or drawing from reference honestly. Try sketching it, then compare your sketch to the reference and take some measurements to see what went wrong. You can draw lines on top of the ref to compare or use anything like a pencil to measure if you're drawing traditionally

Drawing the skull is also really helpful! Just like drawing the muscles to understand the body, drawing the skull from various angles will really help you understand the structure that lies underneath the face, which will help you draw it better when you plaster some skin on top of it. I personally haven't done skull studies in a long time, but when I did them a few years ago they helped me a lot

(these are from 2 years ago I think? but yeah they really helped lay those foundations)

And finally, I think drawing from imagination(without any refs) after doing any of these studies will really help to cement what you've learned into your head. Kind of like a revision to help you memorize the steps yk

That's kind of all I have because my process is pretty much intuitive, but what I can say is that these studies are probably the reason why I draw intuitively at all + without much reference most of the time. I hope these are helpful <3 Good luck!!

[be-my-ally]

Before the Draft Notice

This follows on directly from Splashing Around Chapter 1 & Chapter 2. 

Hello darlings! So, I had something else ready to post, but, well, it's not yet even Halloween and therefore I’ve been informed it might be a little, teeny, tiny, bit early for Christmas fics - so here I am, bridging the gap with a little teeny tiny filler. Let me know though if/when you think it might be the correct time for festive fluffy fun! 

warnings: kissing, implications of underage. unedited (I will probs come back to this tomorrow).

1957 elvis x oc

wc: 2.4k

Elvis wasn’t home soon though, he dawdled in California until they all saw the news articles of him at a fancy Halloween party and though the other girls had a lot to say about it, Louise privately thought it made sense; he was young, he was popular, he was making it, why wouldn’t he be rubbing shoulders with the starlets and actors of the west coast? Although that didn’t mean she didn’t share their fears, understanding their annoyance was borne from stress that he was leaving them behind. Besides, he’d called in a terrible temper the night before and it was, or at least Louise thought, an effective way for him to blow off some steam. He had been on the phone to them for hours, forcing them to pass it around to one another, telling them the same story over and over - presumably intending on doing so until someone managed to calm him down. Louise dreaded to think of the cost of just that one call - surely more than she’d spent on the phone in a year. 

“Hey Elvis, it’s me.” She could picture his nostrils flaring as she heard a puff from him,  

“Lou-ise.” He was curt, and she worried the phone cord around her finger, twirling it as she tried to think of what to say; desperate to prove herself to him and to the others - to succeed where all the others had failed.  

“I, uh, I heard ‘bout the, I heard about the police.”  

“Did ya? Wish they’d just move on; I’m not doing anything wrong. I don’t get why they hafta keep picking on me.” Louise hums, and he continues, “They’re sayin’ I’m - I’m lewd, got the goddamn police after me again like I’m a fucking criminal. Ain’t enough they’ve made me 1A already, they gotta try and prove their goddamn point.” She sighs,  

“Well - I thought that didn’t bother you anymore?” He huffs back at her,  

“Well, no, it don’t. I find it funny most of the time now. I mean - they didn’t even look at me the whole night, but it’s still, it’s still not fair to treat my fans like that either is it?” She murmurs back to him in what she hopes is a consolatory tone,  

“No, no you’re right El… it’s not, it’s not fair.” She pauses, briefly, “What’s really the matter though? That’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before.” There’s a longer pause, as if he’s debating whether to tell her. She shakes out a hand to the others left in the room motioning at them to leave. They grumble but filter out, talking about who was driving who home. Then, in a whine,  

“Some reporter had me read something from Sinatra.” Ah, there it was, “And, and, I just don’t know where he gets off being so mean.” He sounds like a little boy complaining about someone in the school yard, and Louise smiles,  

“Uh-huh, I hear you. He is being awfully unfair. You want me to write an opinion piece back to him? I could hand it in for extra credit in my English class.” He laughs,  

“Oh, I shouldn’t be bothering you with all this. Not at -” She can practically hear him adding up the time difference on his fingers, “- well, this late on a school night.” He pauses, “What are you doin’ there anyway - shouldn’t you be at home?” She winces, it was pretty late, and she’d hoped he wouldn’t ask that.  

“Well, we were all here waiting for you to call. Wanted to be here in case you needed us - all of us that could be here anyway - and well, a lot of the others have gone home but, well, your mom said I could stay as long as I liked so, well, here I am.”  

“But you’ve been keeping up with school? You’ve not been skippin’?” She rolls her eyes, and he tuts,  

“I heard that.” Louise giggles back, 

“You can’t possibly!”  

“Trust me - I always know.” He sighs, “God, I can’t wait to be home.” He yawned, jaw cracking, “Gotta, gonna go to this party, just - think it’s just a lil, little, uh, gathering - then I’ll be home.”  

“Well, I’ll be waiting,” He pauses,  

“Well - it’s, it’s probably best if you, well if you go home ‘til I call for you hmm?” It wasn’t unexpected, but Louise still felt her stomach drop.  

“Yeah, of course, uh, whatever you say.”  

“Just be for the best, I think honey.” 

“Yeah, I get it, sure.”  

“Sleep tight then baby, I’ll see you soon.”  

“Yeah-huh, you too.” He hangs up and she’s left holding the receiver, in his empty living room, uncertain really what he’d been saying.  

When he finally got back Louise didn’t get a call, and then she heard he had left for Hawaii before she had managed to muster up the courage to call him herself. Once Elvis returned, he didn’t call her himself for days, although she did get several calls inviting her up to the house which she of course accepted every time. And every night it was the same story, she sat there, quietly with the other girls while he chatted and played evening after evening. Louise wasn’t being ignored, not really. He was just…sharing his affections. Equalizing his attention amongst them all. It wasn’t until a week later, on the weekend, that he came around to the girls, flopping down onto the sofa between them and resting his head onto Louise’s lap. Frances had his feet on hers, and she softly brushed his sole until he huffed, twitching his foot away and turning his head into Louise’s stomach. She gently stroked his hair, fingers barely catching in his freshly washed strands. She could feel his hot breath against her skin through the thin fabric of her dress and it makes her hair stand up on edge, the intimacy of the moment almost too much for her as she tries to keep her breathing steady.  

“I’ve got a bad feelin,’ Ma does too.” Louise’s hand stills, her other coming down to tickle his back, soft fingers dancing over his shoulders. Elvis twists his head, nodding against her hand and Louise gets the hint returning to gently brushing through his hair. 

Frances pipes up,  “What d’you mean?”  

“I’ve - I’ve got a nasty feeling about my notice - don’t think it’ll be long now.”  

“Oh.” Louise feels her chest tighten, worry already setting in as Frances responds,  

“No! I’m sure that’s not true Elvis! You’ve got so much already planned!” He huffs, and Louise whispers back to him,  

“Well, we’ll deal with it if it is,” He whines a little into her,  

“Y’all gotta promise me - promise me you’ll all be good while I’m gone, I don’t - don’t wanna hear you’ve gotten into trouble.” He pauses, his voice muffled by the fabric of her dress, “Don’t want anything to change.” Louise can’t help but think about all the ways she wants things to change, namely how it’s now been months since they last kissed properly, and she felt like she was close to begging for it - propriety be damned. Whether Elvis notices her telepathic hinting, or if it was always in the plan is unclear, but within the hour he had returned to his bedroom, presumably to get changed again although he didn’t bother to announce that to the room. George tapping on her shoulder twenty minutes later after some sort of Chinese whispers had taken place with orders for her to be sent up to him.  

Louise tentatively knocked on the door even though she knew he was expecting her, awaiting his, “Come on in little Lou-Lou!” before opening it. He’s perched on the end of his bed when she walks in, her feet sinking into his soft, still new-feeling, thick white carpet, and he opens his arms to her. She practically throws herself into them and is immediately rewarded by him pulling her tight to him, his arms folding around her back, clutching her close. She couldn’t break away further than an inch if she wanted to, not that she did. She contented herself nosing at his neck, before one of his hands strayed up to rest on her cheek, turning her face to his, before falling down to her neck, fingers splayed up to her chin. She tips her head up, meeting his eyes and he winks before ducking his own head down to meet hers. It’s at once far more involved than the last time they’d kissed. This time he’s kissing her like he’s hungry for it and he pulls away, briefly, with a tug to her bottom lip,  

“God - I missed ya, baby,” before clutching her face close again. Louise feels like her body is burning from the inside out, can feel the heat building and starting to radiate off her, and Elvis’ arm clenches around her, stilling her movements as she practically bucks against him. She just melts, his arm the only thing really holding her up as she willingly goes along with her devourment. He laughs, his fingers grazing her waist, as she gasps for a breath, her eyes still closed, “You’re so pretty.” Her eyes flutter open in disbelief, unable to believe, even having heard it herself, that Elvis was telling her she was pretty. She gathered her strength to place her wobbly arms around his neck, murmuring back to him, “No, you’re the pretty one, gosh you’re gorgeous, you look so good,” as she presses little kisses all over his cheeks and face. He reciprocates, and she manages to keep her eyes open, watching him at impossibly close range. He ends by pressing a kiss to her mouth again, and this time Louise pushes herself against him so hard that they go tumbling down onto the bed. She giggles, looking around at the blue walls, but Elvis quickly regains her attention, caging her in under him and capturing her mouth with his again. She relaxes into him - completely at ease and trusting.

By the time they make their way back downstairs, Louise was dazed, and her lips bitten sore, and she was pleased to notice Elvis’ looked the same - a little zing of possessiveness sent straight up her spine. Yes; she mussed his hair up to look like that. His lips are rosy and plumped because of her. She misses everyone’s first looks, coming in behind Elvis, and though he doesn’t announce what they’ d been up to she can feel their knowing eyes, and she resigns herself to having to field questions on the nature of her relationship with Elvis.  

Elvis immediately situated himself back on the couch, patting the space next to him.  

 “C’mon little girl, come sit next to me.” Louise writhes a little, her face echoing her jumbled internal thoughts. 

“What? C’mon, what’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He teases, eyebrow rising and Louise is quick to walk over to him, anxious for him not to change his mind despite her annoyance. He grabs her wrist before she can sit down, tugging her to stand in front of him. “You don’t wanna sit with me now?” She thinks, but doesn’t say, ‘well, no. because you’re holding me upright.’  

“No, no, I do. I just, I know you don’t mean it in this way, but it’s just…well, Elvis - you’re not that much older than me, and it feels like sometimes you’re, - “She pauses, unsure how to put it, his gaze hardens,  

“I’m what?”  

“Like you’re, oh I don’t know Elvis!” He doesn’t let go, and he doesn’t respond, just waiting her out. “Well. You just don’t needta call me little all the damn time.” His brow furrows as he tries to work out what’s referring to,  

“What? I can’t call you little girl?” He scoffs, “I don’t mean nothing by it. Jus what you are s’all.”  

“Elvis.” She pouts, and he grins, pulling her closer, pressing his palms to her cheeks,  

“Just my itty-bitty baby girl.” She groans, annoyed he wasn’t taking her seriously, and stomps her foot. He cackles in response, drawing back.  

“See, what did I tell ya boys - She’s just a baby.” He says it with a sneer, and it suddenly doesn’t feel like kind-hearted teasing anymore. Louise can rapidly feel tears of frustration blurring her vision, frustrated at the situation, and at how it’s impossible to argue she’s not a baby when she’s crying at everything. Elvis frowns. “Oh, honey, there’s no need fo-” But they don’t stop coming, and he watches almost forlorn himself as a fat, salty teardrop slides down her cheek. He sighs, “C’mere with me.” He drags her out of the room away from the others and pulls her along all the way back up to his bathroom, “C’mon, here we go,” He picks her up to balance her on the vanity while she sniffles.  

“So-rry,” She manages to get out, while he gently wipes at her eyes with his thumbs, “Didn’t mean to, I know you were playing.” He smiles, eyes almost pleading, crinkling just the tiniest amount around the corners,  

“Thought you were gonna fight it out with me. I wasn’t expecting the waterworks, but I guess, well I guess, you’re jus’ a little over-emot’onal huh, darling?” He kisses the tears away, teardrop clinging to his lip as she struggles to compose herself. “Will you still come back tomorrow?” The question startles Louise enough for her to stop the tears,  

“Of course! Whenever you want me too.” Elvis brushes his hand through his hair, shoving some of it back into place.  

“Honey, I want you here all the time. Even when you’re bein’ silly.” He taps her nose and Louise giggles again. “Look, I think someone here is tired, so how’s abouts I drop you home?”  

Louise blinks back at him, the offer almost unheard of, “You want to?” He nods, his hair flopping back into disarray,  

“Yeah-huh, let’s wash your face, huh honey? And then I’ll take you home. Tuck my baby in for the night.” Louise blushes, this was exactly the kind of comment she’d just been protesting, and yet now it was making her head feel fuzzy and her tummy flip with anticipation. Elvis shifts his weight as he cocks a hip, holding his hand out for her hold for balance as she hops off the sink and as the sturdy weight of his fingers sink into hers Louise decides it’s not an argument that she has any desire to win.

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 23 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3319 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

Finally, I spotted him, chilling on a couch in the corner, rocking a beer and a smoke as his serious eyes stared at me. My heart tightened seeing him like that; normally, when he saw me, it meant smiles and a hug. Now, however, he just watched me, his cool blue eyes meeting mine from across the room. I held his gaze for a while, my face turning a bit warm as we looked at each other. Heart skipping a beat, I wondered: was he gonna brush me off? Stand up and bail, pretending I wasn’t even there?

✦ summary: Reuniting with James forces Nore to confront the complicated feelings that arose after their kiss.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle, drinking, smoking, recreational drug use

✦ a/n: Hello! I'm finally on Christmas break and have lots of free time, so I'm trying to write as much as I can! I'm really glad I could post this chapter before the end of the year, and I hope it won't take me too long to post the next ones :) We're on the final half of the story, and things will get a bit more intense from now on. So, how do you think James and Nore are gonna deal with their feelings from now on? I'm really excited to write about it! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is welcome and motivates me a lot! ❤

✧ I want to be the girl with the most cake / He only loves those things because he loves to see them break / I fake it so real, I am beyond fake / And someday, you will ache like I ache ✧

It didn't take too long for me to catch up with my friends again. Just a bit over two weeks post-Leanne's birthday bash, Cliff gave me a ring with some exciting news: the band had landed a gig at a renowned venue in Los Angeles, and if the first show drew a good crowd, there was talk of a repeat performance to wrap up the year.

I hadn’t crossed paths with James since he had kissed me; gotta admit, the idea of facing him after all that had happened had me feeling a bit uneasy. But I was hopeful that, when the time came, we could have a conversation about it. I just hoped we could keep our friendship. There were many things I could handle, but losing him for good was not something I was ready for.

The band needed to fill the place, so Cliff asked if I could bring someone along. I ended up inviting Pat, my friend from the record store, to join me at the show. I mean, asking Dave was out of the question; as time went by, he was getting more and more bitter every time Metallica came up. Even though he wasn't thrilled about me going to the show, having a companion seemed to ease his mood a bit. Ever since I came home with a bruised hand from having to defend myself, he seemed to gradually become more protective and concerned every day. I knew he'd rather I not navigate crowded spots alone, especially at a metal show. But, when it came to Metallica, his wounded pride still had the upper hand.

I met up with Pat right outside the record store before the gig, so we could go to the venue together. She greeted me with the biggest smile, her blonde locks and blue eyes all dazzling.

"I'm so stoked!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing with happiness as I handed her the ticket and the backstage pass. "I've never had backstage access before. This is gonna be rad!"

"Yeah, it's cool. But don't expect anything too fancy; we usually just score some drinks and access to the dressing room," I said, throwing out a strained smile. I tried not to let the nerves creep in about seeing James again, but now that showtime was approaching, my anxiety was cranking up by the minute.

"Oh, don't be a buzzkill," she pouted. "You’re in a bad mood today? Aren't you happy to see your friends?"

"Sorry, Pat. I'm just kinda on edge," I replied with a sigh. Despite really liking Pat, I wasn't up for diving into the whole James-kiss situation with anyone. Truth is, I had been mulling over it way more than I'd like. Couldn't wait to clear the air with James once and for all.

We rolled up a bit later to the venue, and there was already a decent line of fans. It always blew my mind how they had just dropped their first album not long ago but were pulling in a hype crowd that was growing by the day. I could sense the West Coast getting too cramped for whatever they were cookin' up. And, like always, no need to wait in line for us; the IDs whisked us straight backstage, where the guys were getting their act together, getting stage-ready, and already a bit toasted.

I couldn't really zone in on the whole scene that kicked off with Lars, Kirk, and Cliff swooping in for the welcome party; drinks were handed out, cigs were fired up, and Lars, as usual, threw in his cheeky comments ('hey, your friend's a total babe!'). But honestly, none of that was grabbing my full attention. My eyes were on a mission, desperately looking for the only person I wanted to see. No matter how much I tried to fool myself, all I cared about was making sure things were cool between James and me.

Finally, I spotted him, chilling on a couch in the corner, rocking a beer and a smoke as his serious eyes stared at me. My heart tightened seeing him like that; normally, when he saw me, it meant smiles and a hug. Now, however, he just watched me, his cool blue eyes meeting mine from across the room. I held his gaze for a while, my face turning a bit warm as we looked at each other. Heart skipping a beat, I wondered: was he gonna brush me off? Stand up and bail, pretending I wasn’t even there?

Instead, he just got up, strolled over, and handed me the beer bottle.

“Want some?” he asked, throwing a faint smile my way. I blinked, kinda surprised. The way he talked, it was like nothing had happened. Like he never had kissed me. Like I never had bolted out of Joe's kitchen, leaving him all alone.

But, hey, wasn’t that exactly what I wanted? For things to be normal again. For us to stick to being friends, no drama.

“Of course. You ever see me turn down a beer?” I replied with a grin. He let out a soft chuckle and handed over the bottle, his cold fingers brushing mine for the briefest fraction of a second before he brought the cig back to his mouth.

Before long, the venue staff gave us the heads up that the show was about to kick off. The guys wrapped up their final checks, and Pat and I joined them, enjoying a beer by the stage. Pat was all hyped about it; even though she didn't know the band, she was really getting into the music, full of the enthusiasm you'd expect from a dedicated fan. As for me, I was a bit more reserved this time. Don't get me wrong, I was always happy to catch up with my friends, but I couldn't ignore how uneasy I felt, especially when I noticed James's glances, splitting his attention between the crowd and shooting looks my way, a silent storm brewing in his blue gaze.

After the concert wrapped up, he handed his guitar over to a puzzled Kirk, not even bothering to look at him. He headed my way, big steps and a bit of annoyance wrinkling his forehead; at that point, I was almost sure he was going to cup my face in his hands and kiss me again. The idea had my face turning hot, my heart racing, and the palms of my hands getting sticky with nervous sweat, recalling the feel of his lips on mine. Instead of that, he just stopped and locked eyes with me for a moment, carefully studying my face before saying:

“So? How was the show?”

“It was awesome! You guys rock, I loved it!” Pat exclaimed, all excited, breaking the momentary electricity that had arisen between us two. James raised an eyebrow, curious, as if just now realizing she was there, and shot me a puzzled look. I just shrugged, wearing a slight smile.

"It was killer, like always," I said with a grin, and he shot one right back at me. There it was — the familiar, genuine smile I'd been missing all night. I couldn’t help but feel relief wash all over me when I saw it.

We wrapped up the night at some random downtown bar. Most of the time, I stuck with Pat since she only knew me there. A couple of beers, a joint, and watching her all hyped up did the trick; I started to unwind, and soon enough, I was enjoying the night with a lightness I hadn't felt in ages. Had a cig between my lips, just chilling and keeping an eye on the guys from a distance. Cliff and Kirk were deep into some serious chat, sharing a joint. Lars and James had found some fans from the show, cracking up and talking loudly while passing around a bottle of vodka.

"Can I ask you something?" Pat threw out. I shifted my gaze from the scene, catching her curious, kinda fuzzy look — probably thanks to a bit of the booze. Before I could even answer, she kept going: "What's the deal with you and James?"

"Me... and James?" I raised my eyebrows, totally caught off guard. She nodded, a little smile playing on her lips. "We're... We're friends."

"And that's it?" She raised an eyebrow, and I furrowed my brow.

"Of course, that's it, Pat! You know I'm dating Dave."

"Yeah, I know. It's just..." She started, letting her eyes wander over to Lars and James before turning back to me with a mischievous grin. "He's quite the looker. Mind if I flirt with him a bit? Just for fun, you know."

I blinked, caught off guard, and then burst into laughter, my face heating up in a mix of surprise and confusion. Out of all the scenarios playing in my head for that night, Pat showing interest in James was definitely not on the list.

“Sure, why not,” I said, and she shot me a smile before strutting in the direction of James and Lars. I watched her go, a little smirk on my face, a tiny pang of envy sneaking into my chest. Maybe life would be more of a breeze if I could summon that kind of confidence in myself so easily.

"So now you're playing matchmaker?" I heard Cliff's familiar voice, and I looked up to meet his brown eyes staring at me. I grinned as he lit a cigarette, handing it to me before popping the top of the beer can he had in his hand. "Are you okay?"

"Never been better. And you?"

"Are you sure?" he raised an eyebrow. "Last time I saw you, you weren't very happy."

"Yeah, felt a bit down after... you know, what happened," I confessed with a sigh. "But I think that's all settled now, isn't it?"

Cliff didn't seem entirely convinced. He took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke billowing out before he reached out to me. I took the cigarette from between his fingers, bringing it to my lips.

"I thought James liked you," he commented, his attentive gaze fixed on my face. I shrugged.

"Maybe he does. But you know I have a boyfriend, Cliff. Maybe it's good for him to be distracted by some other girl for a bit," I said, and Cliff snorted.

"Not even you believe that, Nore."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think? Are you sure about what you're doing, throwing your friend at him like this? Or will you regret it later?"

"Why would I regret it?" I furrowed my brow, then stared at him defiantly. "I know what I'm doing, okay?"

"If you say so," he shrugged, taking the cigarette back from my hand.

I watched him walk away with a frown, scanning the area for James, my stomach churning uncomfortably when I couldn't find him anywhere.

We bounced out of the bar late at night, still riding high on excitement and energy, a bit too drunk but not giving a damn about it. Lucky for us, the guys were staying at a friend's house nearby, and a quick call to Pat's dad had us sorted for a ride home from their place. I said my goodbyes to the guys and enjoyed the cruise home. Pat, usually a chatterbox, was oddly quiet on the drive. When I nudged her about James, she blushed so hard I couldn't help but crack up.

When I got home, I made a beeline for the shower. The hot water washed away the remnants of the night's boozing, helping me unwind and finally realize how tired I was. I slipped into my PJs, hopping into bed next to a knocked-out Dave.

I let out a soft chuckle when his arms wrapped around me, his lips landing on my neck. It was like he had a sixth sense that woke him up the moment I was back, even from the deepest sleep. Like he just knew I was nearby. How could I think of anyone else when Dave loved me like this?

“Hey,” he mumbled, his voice all sleepy, planting a kiss on my shoulder.

“Hey,” I replied with a smile, turning in bed to face him. I swept his ginger hair away from his face, and he grumbled before pulling me closer, burying his face in my neck.

"Missed you tonight," he murmured, his raspy voice making me shiver in the best way. "Glad you're back."

"Course, I'm back," I whispered, running my fingers through his hair. "We’re not gonna fight tonight, right?"

"Hmm..." he grumbled, his lips making their way up my neck until they met mine. His hands grabbed my waist as he settled on top of me. "No fights... got something else in mind."

I laughed into his kiss, my face warming as he turned up the intensity, making my whole body heat up. In that moment, wrapped up in his arms, I was sure I was loved. I was sure he loved me. And that was, and always would be, enough. 

Or, at least, that's what I told myself.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

[slutouttanowhere]

Pairing: Jeff Hardy x Leona French™️

Warnings: Randy being a dickhead, use of the insult “freak”

Word count: 5k

A/N: this will be the first installment of my nostalgia WWE fics, for me that would be early 2000s Ruthless Aggression Era. I’ve always been a fan of Jeff Hardy, and growing up I never knew how bad his “demons” were until recently. Don’t worry though these fics will have none of that, I think the man has experienced enough angst in real life I don’t plan on including any of it here. This fic references Beyoncé’s Freakum Dress, any and all lyrics used belongs to said artist. Leona French is my black!oc, her character bio is linked to my pinned post. Hope you all enjoy this silly goofy one shot, leave a like and reblog, follow me ✨

Monday Night Raw 2004

It wasn’t until we were walking through the arena doors that I had second thoughts about tonight. It’s not uncommon for my cousin to talk me into things. Probably why our parents didn’t want us hanging out a lot. “Lita, are you sure about this? I mean I’m not a wrestler, what if they throw food at me?” I turned to her, we walked side by side with our arms linked, but it was more so me holding onto her so I wouldn’t tremble out of my skin. 

“Yes, trust me. All the WWE wants right now, are hot girls that can dance and put on a little show in between segments. And if someone throws something at you, it better be flowers or I’m gonna whoop their ass.” She reassured me for what felt like the fifth time in a row, the hallways were lined with WWE talent, some of them waving to Lita as we went. A few of the women’s eyes lingered on me, scrutiny settled deep in their gazes. I’m used to the heat of female competition, but this was something else. 

My first Monday Night Raw as an “employee,” I usually only showed up as a fan in the crowd when Lita could get me tickets. I’m supposed to be practicing for my audition with the ballet company, yet here I am half naked about to show my ass for the world. I can only pray my parents aren’t watching. Soon we come to a stop near the end of a deserted hall, two guys who I recognize as Lita’s boyfriend Matt, and his older brother Jeff. 

They were dressed similarly as usual, though Jeff’s clothes were more cut up than his younger brothers. His fishnet top was cut so the bottom of the shirt stopped just below his belly button, leaving his lower stomach, and v-line exposed. His arm sleeves coordinated with their all black theme, and were cut up as well. I always admired their edgy style, especially Lita. I knew she got a lot of heat for dressing the way she dressed, in combination with being a hardcore female wrestler. 

“Matt, Jeff, you’ve met my cousin Leona before haven’t you?” Lita reintroduced me to her friends, for a moment I felt stupid, because why would they care to remember who I was just because Lita and I were related. I chewed my bottom lip nervously, catching Jeff’s attention. 

He laughed sheepishly, “might have been concussed that night if I’m being honest.” He smiled playfully, he was a lot sweeter than what one might think, despite all his tattoos, and multi colored hair, from what I’ve observed. He’s diffident, and mostly to himself, not the misfit you’d think he was. The pictures in the magazines didn’t do him justice either, his eyes were greener in person, and has a much taller build. 

“Me too.” I joked, Lita, and I all chuckled, though Jeff and Matt seemed confused by this. Now it was my turn to feel embarrassed.

I stumbled over my words at first. “I used to be a cheerleader all through high school, you’re not the only high flier around her bucko.” My lips curled into a tiny grin, Lita bumped my shoulder scoffing. Matt hummed in response, he folded his arms across his chest, and a tiny smile on his lips as he listened. 

“Captain of the cheer squad, four time national champion.” Lita gloated, she looked at me proudly, hands in her hips, and chest puffed out. 

“That right? So I guess that means I’ll be seeing you hit a Swanton Bomb tonight?” Matt suggested half heartedly, a humorous expression etched across his face. 

“Four time national champion, we’ll be expecting you to jump off the titantron.” Jeff said quietly, one hand over his chin, his index finger pressed to his bottom lip, he grinned watching the look of horror on my face. I could never be half the daredevil he was, and there’s nothing in the world that would make me want to try. 

He held my gaze, and I’ll admit I felt a little shy around him, it’s not like his poster isn’t on my dorm wall or anything. I for damn sure never expected to be talking to him this long. “Hell no, I’ll leave that to the stuntmen, besides this was just a one off.” I shrugged, I tried my best to be humble despite my talent. I loved being a performer, but I didn’t like the attention, such is the life of an artist. 

“That right, Leo here actually has a brain unlike the two of you. She’s only here because she owes me a favor, and what’s a spring break without a little fun?” Lita smiled mischievously, Matt rolled his eyes at his girlfriend.

“Um I think you forgot to count yourself sweetheart, you’re pretty and…well that’s about it.” He chuckled, the two of them seemingly forgetting all about us, Lita’s hand shot out to swat Matt across the chest, but he dogged her, then ran off. Without a second thought Lita pursued him.

“Are they always like that?” I pivoted back to Jeff, who was shaking his head watching his brother act childishly. 

Slowly his eyes lifted to meet mine, his head tilted to the side, “is the sky blue?” That sweet southern twang hitting a little heavier towards the end, and I swore I could drop to my knees right then. A giggle pressed past my lips, and his next words took me by surprise as he suddenly complimented me.

“Aw man, that laugh is so adorable.” Jeff’s eyes slid over my face taking in all my features, there’s not a magazine article in the world that could have prepared me for Jeff Hardyz charisma. The way he looked directly in my eyes, into my soul, as if he looked away he’d miss something spectacular. My shoulder leaned against the cool white brick wall as I stood next to him, he was slouching a little, but our height difference was still evident. 

The corners of my lips tugged into a grin, “are you flirting with me?” I asked, perhaps a bit coy, this sudden confidence went against everything I previously knew myself to be. I typically avoided the male species at all cost, but he had such a warm, welcoming presence. His undivided attention made me feel like I could tell him anything, and that freaked me out a little. 

“You won’t be here long, mine as well make it count this time.” He shrugged, he stood with his hands in his pockets, more talent would pass us. He barely looked their way. 

“So you do remember me!” I shouted, I pushed myself off the wall unaware of just how close we were, and lightly slapped him on the chest. 

His head fell backwards, “of course, even if I landed on my skull that night I wouldn’t have forgotten this face.” He chortled causing his whole face to light up, the butterflies in the pit of my stomach swarmed violently. After I took too long responding he spoke up again. “So why exactly are you dressed like you’re going out to a nightclub?”

“Do I not look good in this dress though?” I asked, letting out an airy laugh, and pulling my fur coat open to playfully show off my outfit. Jeff shamelessly checked me out, getting an eyeful of my cleavage, all the way down my curves to my legs, and my chunky heels. 

His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, a hungry stare in his eyes, “I’m sure you look good in anything.” 

He was saying all the right things, and looking at me in a way that was making my face heat up,  my lips parted to speak, but I was cut off by Lita’s long arm hooking around the back of my neck. “They’re ready for you at guerilla, if you and Jeff are done eye fucking, I’ll walk you down.” My heart jumped at her accusation, the feeling of embarrassment settling onto my face. 

“Oh that right, Lita is actually a rodeo clown between segments.” Jeff rolled his eyes, an unimpressed expression on his face, yet again taking the heat off me. 

“Shut up Jeff.” she sneered at him, and took me by the hand dragging me away. I could still feel his eyes on me, peeking at him over my shoulder, and just as I thought he’s watching me be taken away. A tiny smile on his lips, he nods his head at me as a ‘see ya later,’ and I hoped it was a later. 

Waiting at the curtain were my backup dancers, and Stephanie McMahon. I’ve met her a number of times, she’s always sweet, and comforting. Nothing like her tv persona. “Alright, it’s a packed house, and after that match with Rocky, and Austin they’re quite rowdy.” She explained, I tried to swallow my nerves, as someone who was typically a part of the crowds I knew first hand how nasty people could get. 

“You’ve rehearsed a bunch of times, you’ve got this in the bag Leo, and then before you know it, it’ll all be over. Then you can go back to your prissy little dorm room.” Lita teased me, she pinched my cheek, but I cringed away from her. 

“First of all, that prissy dorm houses your lousy ass more times than I can count. Secondly, don't ruin my makeup, okay?” I hated being talked to like I was a child, Lita and I were only two years apart. I know she’ll always see me as a baby because of the kind of life she lives constantly on the road. 

“Yes! That is exactly the attitude you need tonight, now don’t waste it, save it for the audience.” Stephanie gripped my shoulder, and smiled at me encouragingly. 

I turned to my other dancers, “y’all ready?” They seemed more excited than I was, so I tried to mirror their enthusiasm. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have something special for you.” Lilian Garcia addressed the crowd, they were buzzing, and when I turned to Lita, she gave me a thumbs up. 

“A one night only attraction of. Leona French, performing her rendition of Freakum Dress!” The lights dimmed down, and as soon as the music started I was handed a mic right before I stepped out. “To be, or not to be.” I sang sultrily as I sauntered out, at first the crowd didn’t know what to make of seeing me. I could visibly see some men were quite annoyed, instead of focusing on the crowd I looked right into the camera in front of me. When we got closer to the ring I shed my fur coat, and suddenly the noise began to pick up. I couldn’t help the grin that slid onto my face, I twirled my hips, and popped my ass to the bass of the music. I’ve practiced the routine so many times I could do it in my sleep. “Oh put your freakum dress on, every woman got one.” My body moved fluidly through the steps, I let myself get lost in the music, and soon I felt like I was actually having fun. 

Improvising a little, I climbed out of the ring, and danced over to the barricade where a young man around my age was gawking. I made my way back to the steel steps putting one foot up, and pooped my booty back. Considering they weren’t throwing food at me, I took that as a compliment, but by the end of the performance everyone was on their feet cheering, and wolf whistling. We bowed, blew a few kisses, but then made our way to the back. 

Lita wasn’t there when I came back through the curtain, but I think she told me she might have had some segments tonight. I would probably run into her later, “that crowd was jumpin!” Maddison, one of the dancers laughed, she chugged some water. 

“It sure was, you girls were great! Leona your energy was incomparable, and just so natural. Good job tonight.” Stephanie placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, her kind words making me proud of myself. 

“Thanks boss lady, we’re gonna go shower and change.” I thanked her, shaking her hand, and we all made our way through the arena. I was so busy blabbing to the girls that I didn’t even notice Undertaker when I ran into him. My eyes widened, I’ve only ever seen him from a distance, which he was big then, but up close he’s huge. The girls and I collectively quieted down upon seeing him, “I’m so sorry…Mr. Taker.” I said like a doofus, his eyes shined humorously, but that’s all he offered us. 

“Just Taker is fine, you’re Lita's cousin aren’t you? That was a hell of a performance y’all had.” And this is where I realized I might have a thing for gothic southern men. Or maybe I was just a sucker for the accent. I recall a number of stories about Taker being the best person to ask advice, literally everyone would ask him his opinion. 

“Wow, thanks, I’m a huge fan by the way, um any pointers?” Why not ask the most successful man in the entertainment business his thoughts on my performance. The girls looked at me like I had three heads, it’s what I expected none of them watched wrestling. 

“We’re gonna go shower, we’ll catch up later.” Lisa patted me on the shoulder, I nodded, and let them excuse themselves. If anyone was ‘prissy’ as Lita put it, it’s definitely them. Never struggled a day in their lives, spoon fed country club for their entire lives. Only sports they knew were golf, and all American football. That was an excitable level of violence for them, however, I usually craved something a little more aggressive. 

He pondered for a moment, “well…it looked like you were having fun, and that’s when you really started to connect with the crowd. That’s important, it’s not just you, and them. You’re in on it together.” He explained, his voice deep, but his tone ominous. A backstage official informed him that he was needed, Taker nodded his head, and turned back to me. “A lot of people are gonna try and groom you, make you out to be what they want. Especially because you’re a girl, and seemingly have a lot of talent that could make people a lot of money. Nothing is more important in show business than to do things by your own volition, and stand on it.” That may have been the wisest bit of information I’ve ever received, he held his hand out for me to shake. Without hesitation I took it, grateful for this moment, and to think I was gonna pass up the offer. He shook my hand surprisingly gently, then went on about his business. I watched him for as long as my eyes could see. I felt light, like I was no longer a part of this physical plane. I looked down at my hand in disbelief of what just happened, my whole body still buzzing. 

I just performed for thousands of people, and then The Undertaker just dropped a wealth of knowledge on me. I’m just a girl, I’m just some kid, how did I get so lucky? “Are you gonna keep standing in the middle of the hall like an idiot?” I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of an arrogant voice, slowly I turned to be met with the last person I wanted to run into tonight. Randy Orton, Bautista by his side, the only one of the two who had some etiquette. 

Bautista lips form a tiny smile, he had a familiarity to him, as if we’ve been knowing each other for a while. “Hey, I remember you, you’re Lita’s big brain cousin, what college was it you went to?” I could feel my face heat up, it was sweet of him to remember something so small. 

“I don’t know about big brains, but I’m attending Tisch School of Arts in New York.” I said shyly, I tried not to make my accomplishments a big deal; I guess it couldn’t be helped when Lita is blabbing about me to everyone she sees. 

“So an art school.” Randy didn’t sound too impressed, far be it for him to care about anything other than himself. I might have actually found him attractive if he wasn’t such a dickhead. 

“Hang on there Randy, Tisch is no run of the mill dance school, their acceptance rate is pretty low from what I understand. I had some family that tried to get in a few years ago, they had to audition 3 times.” Bautista explained coming to my defense, while simultaneously shutting down his partner's rudeness. He did it in such a calm manner, I bet he’s great with kids. 

Randy eyed me, when he lingered too long on my chest I rolled my eyes, and side stepped him. He’s exactly like the pricks that frequented the country clubs back home, the only way to deal with them was to ignore them. “Anywho, it was nice meeting you, I’m a big fan, Bautista.” He held his hand to his heart, touched by me saying this. 

“You’re a wrestling fan?” Randy questioned, he looked gobsmacked by this revelation, I grimaced turning to him. 

“Yeah…” I said lifting my eyebrow daring him to challenge me, but he scoffed. Folding his arms over his chest, a smug expression on his face, I regret even running into him.

“I mean, of course you are, who wouldn’t wanna watch me on a weekly basis.” The haughtiness in his tone made me want to throw up, I couldn’t even disagree which was the worst part. He’s so good at what he does it upsets me, if only all that talent came with a muzzle. 

“You literally have zero shame don’t you?” Jeff came up from behind me, his face paint dripping off him, no doubt  from a match may have just had. An unimpressed look on his face, his arm slipped around the back of me, and held onto me almost protectively. I could feel my face heat up from his touch, I wasn’t going to deny him. 

“Meanwhile you’re dressed like some freak.” Randy spat venomously, I was taken aback by his sudden mood change, Jeff’s expression darkened, but didn’t have a verbal response. He took a step forward, Randy mirroring his movements. There’s no love loss between the legacy kid, and mister daredevil. Jeff seemed to get the best of Randy in matches most of the time by out sitting him, and stealing the wins. Which is really more so Randy’s fault by letting his emotions get the best of him. 

Bautista pressed his hand to Randy’s chest. A warning glare in his eyes. “Cool it man, you can’t afford to get into another fight this week.” He mumbled, but Randy wasn’t hearing it. The grip Jeff had on tightening, his nails digging into me as if to hold himself back. 

“Trying to show off around your little poptart, wanna be, girlfriend aren’t you? Please do Jeff, I beg you.” Randy pressed his palms together, goading Jeff into a fight, I looked to Jeff who was clearly thinking about it. He’d do it even if  only to make a point, but before I could get a chance to interject he reared back his fist. Popping Randy right in the nose. My mouth dropped, and my eyes widened. 

“Fuck we gotta go.” I grasped him by the wrist, and tugged him in the opposite direction. We ran until we couldn't hear Randy shouting, and bitching anymore. We rounded the corner, finally coming to a stop. We caught our breath, “you’re gonna be in so much shit.” I sighed once my breathing calmed, I slapped him across the chest. He barely flinched. 

“What, you just wanted me to let him talk about you like that?” He seemed offended by my disappointment, his hand ran through his blue-violet colored hair. 

“Randy is an idiot, being called a poptart isn't the worst thing, I mean he said you were a freak.” My lips pressed together, I could feel myself getting upset all over again, there was never a reason to be so fucking mean. 

Jeff shrugged his shoulders, “yea so? If I had a dime for everytime someone judged the way I dressed, how I talk, or the clothes I wore, well I’d be a fat rich man. But you don't talk about girls that way man, what did you do to deserve that attitude anyway?” Yet again we were standing close to each other, I chewed my bottom lip trying not to say anything stupid, my eyes lowered to the floor. I couldn't understand why he would get himself into drama over something so stupid. 

“Did ya see the look on Randy’s face though, I think I broke his nose.” He grinned, I couldn't help but laugh when I replayed the scene in my head, even Bautista was shocked. 

I shook my head, “by the time he gets done bitching at Stephanie about it, you’re gonna get into so much trouble.” I reached for the bandanna hanging out of his pocket, and began to clean off the face paint. The sweat dripping down his forehead made it easier to swipe away, with my other hand I held him by the chin, he took a step back putting his back to the wall causing me to step forward. I tried to avoid his eyes, acutely aware he was staring me right in mine. 

“It’ll be worth it.” He hummed, his hand reached out to play with my hair, gently sweeping it over my shoulder. His fingers caressing my skin on the way down, then finally rested on my hips. Once I was satisfied with the majority of the paint being gone, I sighed, and wrapped my arms around his neck. 

My eyes dropped to his lips, his tongue flicked out swiping his bottom lip, ‘this is a bad idea right?’ I thought to myself, ‘oh well, what’s spring break without a little fun?’ As if reading my mind, Jeff leaned in meeting me halfway in a deeply passionate kiss. His hands slid up my back holding me closer to his body, I couldn't help but let out a moan as his hands slid down to my ass, and gripped me. I don't know how long we stood there locking lips, but by the time either of us pulled away I was out of breath. My lips were swollen,  my heart was hammering against my rib cage, and my head felt a bit light headed. “So what now?” I pressed my forehead to his, I knew it was getting late, and I was gonna be no good tomorrow if I was too exhausted. 

“Got any time left to get something to eat? I know a diner that’s open late around here.” He offered. A hopeful look in his eyes. I peaked at him from underneath my lashes, my fingers playing with his choker necklace. Voices could be heard in the distance, it sounded like a few of the guys, but neither of us worried about it. 

“Sure, I got some time to spare, as a super fan I'd be honored to have dinner with Jeff Hardy.” I teased, he wrapped an arm lazily around my shoulder, some female talent we passed gave me a nasty look. Trish Stratus specifically did not like what she was seeing, our eyes watched each other as we passed by. I knew that her and Jeff were “involved,” but the extent of that? I was unsure about, however if this was her man she would have said something right?

Jeff, oblivious to this as he was talking, he snorted, “you’re a fan huh? Does this make you my groupie?” He asked jokingly, we were finally approaching my dressing room, Lita was further down the hall talking to Edge, and Christian. They were all laughing obnoxiously about something, but I turned my attention back to Jeff. 

“Oh definitely, I’m gonna write about it in my diary later.” I chortled, one hand on the doorknob, and the pinky of my other hand linked with his pinky. Neither of us wanted to let go, but we both needed a fresh change of clothes. 

“Well, I’m flattered…” He trailed off for a second, then said,  “I wish I could just wait for you here, but I need a fresh outfit so I’ll meet you back here?” 

“You’ll definitely be done before me, so you might end up waiting anyway.” I smiled sheepishly, my face heating up in embarrassment, I felt bad for making him wait after the long night he’s had, so I decided just then that I’d cut down time on my makeup at the very least. 

He made no fuss about it. “That’s fine, see ya in a little bit.” He let go of my pinky, then made his way back the opposite direction, and turned down a hall disappearing. It wasn't till I was behind the privacy of my dressing room door did I let out a long, heavy sigh, the other girls were nowhere to be found, so I revealed in the alone time. 

I didn't fight the dopey smile that grew across my face, “I kissed Jeff Hardy?” After I picked myself up off the floor, I locked the door behind me, and stripped down before getting into a hot shower. Getting dressed tonight has been the easiest task of my life since I was smart enough to pack only one other outfit. Had I been back at home I would have ended up overwhelming myself trying to decide what to wear. I pulled on my coat, then grabbed my duffel bag, and purse, throwing it over my shoulder. When I opened the door, Jeff was waiting outside like he said he would, his eyes taking me in, from my heels making sure to slow up at my legs, and thighs. Then finally landing on my face. 

“Hey…” He greeted me, his eyes sliding over my body, and slowing up at my chest before he got to my face. When our eyes met our smiles mirrored the others, he took me by the hand and walked us out of the arena to the parking lot. The night was mostly over, so there weren't many people left. My phone buzzed in my purse, I fished it out to see who texted me. I clicked on my messages to see I had been left a few, but Lita stood out to me. 

Lita: I nu u were w Jeff the whole time. ;) 

Lita: dont do anything I wdnt do

I rolled my eyes, I don't know if I  should be thanking her, or annoyed that she set me up, I scoffed, “freakin Lita.” 

“Everything okay?” Jeff asked, opening the passenger side door for me, the fall time air blowing my hair around, I peered up at him nodding my head. He watched me with a weary look in his eyes, I enveloped his face in my hands, and pressed my lips to his. He relaxed into me, “I think I’m gonna get in the car now.” He grinned like an idiot, and walked around the other side of the car. The drive wasn't long, but Jeff requested that I talked about myself, so I did. Not once did he interject, and by the time we made it to the restaurant, I felt like I had told him my whole life story. 

“I watched that little show of your’s by the way, you’ve got a lot more talent than you let on.” I was taken aback by this sudden compliment. We sipped on our pop while we waited for our food, and as I sat across from him, he seemed like the most normal guy in the world. “I could have watched that on a loop.” He said softly, his longing gaze making me shift in my seat. 

My eyes dropped down to his hands, I just now realized some of his dark painted nails had designs on them, “do you paint your own nails too?” I asked curiously, it’s something I’ve always wondered, but never had the chance to ask till now. 

“Most of the time, other time’s it’s Lita when we have some time off.” He explained, the image of them sitting together like two siblings painting each other's nails made me smile a little. Yeah that seemed about right.

“Don't tell me they didn't include that information in Tiger Beat.” He deadpanned, obviously no love loss for the magazine company, I cringed at the name, I hated them too.

I shrugged, “I wouldn't know, I’m more of a Teen Vogue girl.” I joked, that’s how the rest of our night went, we talked about anything that came to mind: wrestling, food, fashion trends, travel. Anything to keep the conversation going, Eventually it turned 1 am, I needed to get some sort of sleep before catching up with Lita tomorrow. She wanted to drag me around the mall before they headed to the next town. We sat in front of the hotel, I turned to him, I knew I could have invited him up. The look in his eyes told me all I had to do was offer, but he wasn't going to force it. Knowing I had a whole week to be promiscuous, I decided to prioritize sleep this time, slowly I leaned in, and he met me halfway. A kiss that started off sweet turned into something heated, and needy. We moaned into each other simultaneously, I pulled away first, Jeff was frozen in place. His eyes still closed. “I’m getting out of the car now doofus.” I giggled, then opened the car door. 

He suddenly came back to life, “oh, let me get your bag.” He reached in the back grabbing my duffle bag, and brought it around to my side of the car. I stood patiently waiting for him, my lips still tingling where he kissed me, I took the bag from him, and kissed him on the cheek. 

“See ya later.”I walked backwards in the direction of the hotel, we held onto each other's hands till we couldn't anymore. That night after I got ready for bed, as soon as my head hit the pillows I passed out. That night I dreamed about having a tag match with Lita and Matt, versus Jeff and I, and it was a banger. That might be long into the future, but as far as tonight I had the best time of my life.

[year2000electronics]

do you have any tips or suggestions for someone wanting to make their own oc story? your ocs and their stories are so insanely cool but i have no idea where i’d even begin to make one!

also happy y2kvr-versary ! late i know but it was still the ask blog that caused me to follow you and i’ve just stuck around for your other content after. :)

HMMMM lemme just spill a bunch of my thoughts all at once, this is just some stuff i personally like doing with my own oc stories! by no means is this a comprehensive list and i am not a professional!

1. accept the fact that you’re probably going to need minor/side characters. of course that isn’t always the case, there are story types that only focus on a handful of characters, but let’s use the reckoning as an example: even though i love all the characters there dearly, it’s about sinclair and his donning and subsequent subverting of the “mythological hero” mantle by taking on the vices’ challenge. montez and duncan, the other two archangels, are there to serve as a secondary antagonist in holy orders and bring some more life to the story’s world respectively, and That’s Okay. recognizing that not all your characters are gonna be the most specialest boys is a great place to start with structuring an oc story imo!

2. KEEP AT IT. the reckoning as it exists now didn’t truly come together until 2020, which is when the ask blog was made. cardine (the city the vices reside in) is such a key, important concept that drives the story along and the reckoning wouldn’t be nearly as good without it, and that only got introduced in one of the final drafts pre-ask blog!! reworks, practice with laying out the events, thinking and re-thinking of stuff and spending years with it is really good. it’s healthy. i mean a lot of great films and tv get ‘saved’ at the last minute from being terrible by one terrible concept being scrapped so revising and not being afraid to change things is your best friend

3. learn some rules. i’m of the firm belief that storytelling should be an all-access hobby for everyone, so you don’t have to read all of save the cat and then write out a full script or anything, but like. turn on a movie you like, or read a book you love. think about what they’re doing to convey primary themes to you. pick out the themes, actually, that’s good too. being able to pick up on themes that aren’t just being stated to you as if it’s dialogue from sonic heroes is a great teacher on how to subtly weave those themes into your story

4. don’t be afraid to break those rules! a lot of that stuff is great to pick up but at the same time they’re YOUR characters, and if you find yourself getting bored by playing too “by the book”, nobody said you can’t change how things work. for example, a lot of my oc stories have “villain protagonists” because i just really connect with the way ‘villains’ present themselves in media. if you find yourself fixating on a side character and brushing your main character aside? screw it! you can just make the story about them! what if a 7/11 clerk went on an adventure instead of the main guy!!

5. INSPIRATION IS YOUR FRIEND. WEAR IT ON YOUR SLEEVE. i don’t mean you have to publicly disclose every single thing you were inspired by, but the amazing digital circus is REALLY big right now, and gooseworx has told people IHNMAIMS and the raggedy ann movie were big inspos and she clearly loves those things because they uplift the work higher! (plus it gave people a new appreciation for those things) and, imo, understanding what inspires you and celebrating it is a lot better of a mindset than going into something out of sheer spite (like you’ll see a lot of people online making very inflammatory “i alone could fix a piece of media that had to go through an entire writer’s room as well as corporate mandates, gosh why doesn’t everyone just Make Things Good?” type posts on social media, and i find myself straying more and more away from that). best example i can think of are all those very ill-fated “original alien stories” that su criticals made back in the day that were even more confusing than the gems and everyone had to pretend that “of course it makes more sense for the aliens to be flowers, gosh, why didn’t rebecca sugar think of this? we’re so smart”. my point is hate and shame can fizzle out quickly but creativity is forever

6. and of course, always make sure you’re actually having a good experience with the process. fun, catharsis, importance, etc. if it sucks, you can literally hit the bricks. i say that with experience because before my original superhero story existed (iris of the storm), there was another (problem students). it was dormant as a story for a really long time because i had accidentally made a superhero story without any of the superhero tropes i loved, but i couldn’t just… delete it all! OH WAIT. YES I COULD. i started it all over and got rid of ocs that i was glad i made but don’t need anymore, and i’ve never been happier cos iris of the storm is actually fun for me.

BUT YEAH THATS IT. thumbs up

[skylinx2o]

Admittedly, I've been feeling terrible lately. I didn't even finish my weekly drawing and broke my now months long streak. I thought I would be able to do it, but my emotions weighted me down too much. I might go back to drawing one art every two weeks.

Anyway, I feel like I should do more fun things. I mean, drawing is fun, and I love creating stories for my OCs, but I do have a lot of other interests. And tho I'm sticking to talking about LEGO today, I want to talk more and get out of my shell. And maybe give you more insight into me as a person.

So today I'm going to talk about my favourite LEGO themes and why I love the series, plus how I personally got i to all of them. It's not a normal review whatsoever, just an excuse to ramble about my interests freely. Just remember this is my experience and my feelings.

(And it's not at all like I'm making this post because I need all of this to prepare for a speaking class and the only way to motivate myself is by making a post about it o _o Come on, I'm killing two birds with one stone here!)

Okay, so, my all-time favourite themes are (in chronological order to when I found them):

1. Bionicle

Honourable mention: Hero Factory

2. Ninjago

3. Legends of Chima

4. Monkie Kid

5. Dreamzzz

1. So. Bionicle. I have a weird history with Bionicle. My dad's friends used to get movies for us, and one day it just happened that my dad's friends gave us a pen drive with Bionicle: Legend Reborn on it. I think I would be around... Seven or eight when I watched it I've seen fans say that it was a pretty weak film, but I didn't know Bionicle back then, and I really enjoyed it! That movie was a soft reboot of the series, and as someone who started their Bionicle obsession with that movie, in my opinion it worked really well as a standalone supposed to capture new audiences. I really loved the sense of mystery that was probably lost on new fans. It wasn't exactly explained what or who Mata Nui was, besides him being a warrior who lost his people. And the ending... I really thought there would be a sequel to it, and was really intrigued by whom the great beings were, and what happened to the world, why Mata Nui knew them, what the giant ahh robots were supposed to do.

Of course, when a few years later in middle school I looked for the sequel, I didn't find it. And to be honest, the ending was disappointing to me. However, there was a whole other storyline in Bionicle to catch up on! And so one faithful summer was spent reading all the comics I could find, reading wiki pages one after another, playing Mata Nui online game obsessively, refusing to use a walkthrough. Believe me when I say I was obsessed!

And then out of nowhere in 2015 g2 came out, and I was stoked since I missed out on practically the whole g1 as it was being made. (I mean, it's understandable, I was born the same year the first Bionicle movie came out.) I mean, can you blame me for being excited? A dead franchise that I just started becoming a devoted fan of is suddenly revived from the grave. I felt like the luckiest person on earth that day. Honestly, g2 was a lot simpler than g1, but I really like it, even if most people said it sucked. Sure, it wasn't exactly like g1, and even I cringed a few times when watching the g2 show, but for what it was, it was cool in my eyes, and loved finding all the g1 references. And there were quite a few of them! The story of g2 was simpler, but for little kids I think it would've been fine. But alas, LEGO did a crap job promoting it, and it died early, with an ending that was so bad even I can't defend it. It just didn't make sense, and it was rushed as hell. But I still wished it would've continued.

I love both generations for different things, and I'm sad I didn't get any g2 sets when they were out (Lewa was my favourite one). But years later I managed to get a promotional anniversary set of Tahu and Takua, and you wouldn't believe my happiness when I was building it. It's strange being a relatively new fan compared to others I see online, but I still remember seeing Bionicle commercials, and even have a very vague memory of seeing a Phantoka commercial on our ancient TV. I mean come on, I was so into it, I even learned the Matoran alphabet! My mom had to listen to my countless rambling, and if I ask her about Bionicle today, she still remembers some answers, that's how much into it I was. Hell, this blog started as a Bionicle blog before I moved fully to Monkie Kid content.

Okay, this Bionicle ramble is getting a tad long, so I'll wrap this up. Would I recommend Bionicle to anyone? Well... Not really, unless you like long lore researching adventures. The story is so convoluted, with many sides stories, and it went on for so many years, that despite my obsession I still probably missed like, 40% of the lore. G1 at least, wouldn't vibe with casual audience probably. G2 might be easier on the brain, despite it having some deeper lore too. Plus, there's the cultural appropriation issue, that I'm not qualified to talk about, but others already made pages long blogs and articles about. Plus the weird gender situation. But, it's still a good story in my eyes, despite its many faults. But that's just me, and if you didn't catch on yet, I'm already deep in this hole and there's no getting out of here now.

Honourable mention: This brings us to Hero Factory. I watched the first few episodes at around the same time as the first Bionicle movie. Came from the same source as before. I think it deserves a mention, because I still loved it, and did some lore digging, but I wasn't as obsessed with it as the other positions on the list. I didn't like the later stuff as much, tho some concepts were really cool too. But the story of the first episodes was really well done, and worked great as a movie. The fights were tense, and when watching it for the first time, I couldn't really know if the characters would be okay. Honestly, it got me really excited and invested. A factory of heroes is a unique concept, and I always found it intriguing how they made the robot society work. But, I don't think it needed more time than it needed, unlike Bionicle, where I didn't like the ending of either generation. I think it wrapped things up quite well with the first episodes, and the later ones just feel like cool side stories, and it works in my opinion.

This one I would definitely recommend, because I feel like it's underrated, and it's not long. Like I said, the version I got was just a one movie like compilation. I checked and there's just 11 episodes. It would probably take 1–2 hours to watch it, not counting the later movies and all.

2. Next one is Ninjago! I started watching it almost from the start. I must have been around ten or so... The episodes aired on TV, so I had easy access to it! I almost never missed an episode, and watched even the reruns. And believe me, I was hypnotised when watching it. Tho, starting from rebooted I watched the episodes online, first in my native language, then in English since I started getting too impatient to wait. This was my first obsession. For the longest time, when people asked me what I wanted to do, I said I wanted to be a ninja. One of my oldest OCs is Mika, and she grew up with me. Whenever a new season was to come, I would design a new suit for her. I have a whole dedicated blog to her, I wonder if you all can find it lol. Anyway, for a kid's show, the first seasons were really well written, and the show could be dark when it wanted, but it didn't lack jokes, and most were very funny. And honestly, Ninjago had a really big impact on my life. It taught me not to give up, and it made me want to make the world a better place. Grade school was a horrible time for me, and Ninjago was like my escape. Tho, I might have daydreamed about it too much at one point...

I started distancing myself from Ninjago around hands of time. I didn't watch the show as regularly, catching up on seasons long after they aired. I think that's also where the writing quality started dropping… I just didn't like it as much any more. But it should've been expected with a series that went on for so long. I'm not one of the people who think old Ninjago was better than anything. It wasn't perfect at all. But I didn't like the short format of newer seasons. But then secrets of forbidden spinjitzu dropped, and i as a person started getting better too, so I went back to Ninjago, and while it wasn't still the best and people had a lot of issues I loved those few next seasons. I mean, they somehow hit right into my interests with those seasons. First the adventure movies like atmosphere with the Egyptian like tomb, then they get sucked into a video game, then the very DnD like feeling Shintaro. It was right up my alley. My love for Ninjago was back in full force by then. So you can imagine how sad I was when the word that Ninjago was ending started going around. The series has been with me for half my life. My friends even knew how much I liked it, my best IRL friend even bought me a Ninjago set for Christmas one time. But you know, I thought it was probably Ninjago's time. Nothing can last forever after all, and it had a very good run. Why not end it when the story was still quite alright? And then… Crystallized happened. I didn't watch Crystallized. I heard the spoilers, and I wasn't… thrilled. Especially with Harumi. And people hated that season. It left a bitter taste in my mouth. It didn't feel like a send-off Ninjago deserved.

So you can imagine how damn happy I was about Dragon Rising! And surprise, it's the best Ninjago has been in a while! I absolutely loved the first season. The new characters are wonderful, and that change was certainly what Ninjago needed. And the fact that it's merged with one of other of my beloved LEGO series only makes it better. And that's probably my cue to move to it hehe

So, would I recommend Ninjago? Yeah. Its story is easy to follow, you just need to watch the show. If you're ready to watch sixteen+ seasons that it! Even the worse seasons have some value to them I'd argue. But I may be biased with how close to my heart that series is.

3. Yeah boy, Legends of Chima! I started watching Chima around the same time I started watching Ninjago, and I was equally hooked. And yes, my mom remembers this one as well, I watched it every time it was on too. Actually, I think the first fanfiction I've ever written was about Chima. With a pencil on paper. I think that, while the other series captivated me because of magic or the setting or the action, in Chima it was the characters and their dynamics mostly, despite there being plenty of magic powers and action too, plus a unique setting. The main characters all have distinct personalities, and it's fun to see how their personalities clash or work together. I think it's cool because the conflict between lions and crocodiles takes the main stage in the first season. Later seasons are great too, and they shake things up to make things interesting quite well. The lore isn't as broad as in other series, but it's pretty cool and interesting either way. There were some unique concepts there. I can't explain my love for this theme as well as with other series, because I don't think there was anything big that made me like it. It's just a cool show. I think what there was has been satisfying, tho young me was really sad and angry it ended anyway. But it's great for what it was. But I can't say I'm not happy that Chima is now merged with Ninjago, and it works so well together, and I absolutely love Lord Ras.

I would absolutely recommend it. It's a fun show, and only three seasons long. It can be both fun and serious, and I definitely had a blast watching it.

4. Now one of my newer obsessions! Monkie Kid! I watched the pilot in Chinese when it came out, then I promptly forgot about the series and binge-watched it all when season 3 came out. I was reading about Journey to the West long before the series was announced, since I have a liking for old stories and legends and myths and stuff. And Asian cultures fascinate me. I blame Ninjago with its Japanese influence and all the martial arts movies that were on the TV all the time. Plus Mulan and Kung Fu Panda. Anyway, I can't say much about how accurate it is or anything since I'm not Chinese, but I think the show is great. I noticed a lot of references to Journey To The West. No shocker here, it's inspired by it. But being in this fandom made me learn a lot of new things about China, tho I still have a bunch of things to learn. I'm no expert yet. Tho, I try my best to be respectful.

Umm... Like I said, not much to say about how accurate the story is. But I really liked Journey to the West, so naturally I like Monkie Kid too. Plus, MK i really relatable to me. I feel like my personality is really similar to his, tho I'm more introverted. For some reason, I relate to this portrayal of Macaque and Wukong as well.

I dare to say that from all the series so far, I find this one to be the most well written. I just find the writing to be the most impactful. Plus, the artstyle is very different from other LEGO shows. Action scenes are really fun. The artstyle definitely works in its favour. And yeah, I would recommend this show 100%.

5. And finally, the newest addition to the LEGO series, Dreamzzz! The show is really new and just starting, but I love the concept and the writing! Plus again, I really relate to Mateo. The characters feel like real people you would meet, and how they interact feels realistic. And I found myself liking even the characters that annoyed me, because their personalities were the realistic type of annoying, one that you might find out in the wild. And the concept of a dream world just really speaks to me. And it gives the creators a lot of creative freedom. All wacky things can happen in a dream after all. One thing I didn't expect in the show was the secret agency, and I think it's a clever addition to the story.

I would recommend this series. I hope it'll have a bright future, and that the writing will stay this good.

Well, time to wrap all of this up. Whoever suffered through this whole ramble deserves a juice and a cookie 🍪🧃 For a few finishing thoughts... I noticed a lot of the series I like blend magic powers and technology together. I just thought it's interesting. And I wanted to mention that the songs for Bionicle, Ninjago and Chima absolutely slap. I used to listen to them on repeat all the time lol Even my mom really enjoyed those songs

Yeah, I don't know what this post was for, I just felt like writing all that :v

[eldritch-spouse]

Pinnie I hope done you haven't done this already but if you have, please ignore!

I read your post on the demon triplets with an incredibly oblivious S/O and I just NEED to know how that would go down with Santi, Belo and Patches.

Because they could literally tell me they wanna fuck (even though Belo and Patches would never say it directly) and I would like them or whatever and still be like "OH you're hilarious. Anyways..." Because I am unable to differentiate between a friend joking about that or being dead serious AND ITS THE SAME FOR YOUR OCS (especially Santi I would cackle in his face I need this man so pent up he just takes action)

Santi has dealt with many people who weren't always too suave with their mannerisms. People who didn't want to read between the lines, or couldn't, and he's never had trouble being direct. If Santi loves you, he will tell you that to your face eventually. If Santi wants to fuck you and and his "come hithers" aren't really registering, then he'll just say it too. No shame. Having you respond as if he were joking is beffudling, he may even think you're mockingly rejecting him for a second. Fortunately, he doesn't have to go too far to mend this, or let his frustration make him act out. He'll simply pick a moment where you're aroused, and mention it. You're wet love, he can smell it. What's more, you're wet for him. He'll say it again. He wants to fuck you. Right there. Nothing in his face hints that it's a joke. And then, in that moment where it seems as if things are sinking in for you, he tells you he loves you. Drops those bombs on you.

Belo will be suffering in silence for the majority of time. This will heavily delay most of his confessions, as the power can eventually start to think that you know what he's saying. You know what he means, you just don't accept him. You're trying to gently let him down in your own way, which is very benevolent, but also very embarrassing... But then, in a last ditch attempt, he gets on his knees and professes undying loyalty, endless reverence, eternal servitude, his body is yours, his mind, his soul- ... And you??? Just think he's practicing aimless poetry??? He wants to die right there. So, he shifts his focus. He loves you. Do you love him? He would give his body to you at a moment's notice. Do you want it? If you give a joking answer to those questions, Belo is going to tear his own halo off.

Patches knows better than to get in his own head about it. You are oblivious, he can tell. Wherein he'd usually spend time scheming about important things, he's not spending that time brainstorming about the most sincere and non-humorous displays of love he could do for you. He needs to know how to snap you out of the assumption he's some joker. Do you not know him?? Do you think he's the type to just joke about wanting to fuck you? Wanting to be with you? Sigh. In the end, after a whole lot of searching, making shitty deals, and getting into perilous situations, he manages to get an ancient artifact belonging to seraphim. When someone is in love and looks at their infatuation, it lights up in a bright, almost blinding white. He explains this to you as he holds the priceless amulet and it glows bright enough to make your eyes water (a little too much brightness, shattering the stone within it slightly). Please let this one work, he doesn't know what else to do.

[ddarker-dreams]

Hi! I have a question, you can ignore this if you want to but I’ve found myself really loving the way you write and the range of writing you can articulate as well. Speaking from someone who is nowhere close to that level of skill you possess, would you mind being able to explain your journey of writing, if you practiced any particular methods or anything else to get to this stage you are at right now? Unless you have been gifted the talent of writing from birth and didn’t need to try for much long or long enough to call it a journey. Could you also spare some tips and advice for someone who wants to start writing stories and what to look into/practice?

I love your work a lot and I am constantly waiting for the notification of your new posts, despite not being a writer myself I do love breaking down and analysing writing and your stories are always such good options for me to look into. Thank you so much for writing and sparing your time to produce such well done pieces of work — I felt extremely corny writing this, excuse me for this language, I promise I’m not a pimp!

THIS ISN'T CORNY AT ALL!!!! ❌🌽❌!!!!

i'm deeply grateful for all your kind words, thank you so so much 😭

i don't mean this in a self-deprecating way, but i've never considered myself a gifted or super incredible writer, i just get hype about story ideas and try to make them as good as i can. due to that, i start sweating when people ask for advice because i don't consider myself qualified... i do have a writing advice tag, but take everything i say with a grain of salt!! if it's fanfic literally all that matters is that you enjoy whatever you're writing.

i'm more than happy to share my writing journey though!! it's kinda fun to reminiscence.

i've loved reading and writing ever since i was a little lock. while thinking about this ask, it occurred to me that what i've always been the most invested in are the characters. i'd think about 275894275 different storylines with them. i didn't start writing fanfic until i was around 11 though, everything was handwritten. or in flipnote hatena.

i did a lot of fanfic writing from 11-14 buuuut then my interest in it kinda fizzled out. it wasn't until i watched hxh for the first time that i took it up again bc chrollo is that powerful. that's when i started conceptualizing HWR. i looked at my early writing folder, the first HWR fanfic i wrote was in 2016 when i was 15 ?? here's a cursed excerpt:

anyway, once i started making googly eyes at chrollo, it was gg. i've been writing often ever since.

what's helped me the most is to focus on the elements i find interesting. for example, i like fleshing out my MCs, focusing on dialogue, and developing a universe around the main pairing. because i enjoy this so much it's (mostly) always easy to devote time and effort toward it.

so i think it comes down to finding out what niches you like and working with those. some writers prefer to write with heavy prose, others are more succinct, some writers like dialogue, others prefer to be more action based... etc etc. this does require a little time if you're completely new to writing, but you know yourself best. you'll eventually pick up on what part of the story you're most excited to write.

this isn't particularly mind-blowing or anything but i hope it helps some 😭 what completely Altered my mindset was when i realized i can be as self-indulgent as humanly possible. cringe is not in my vocabulary. write a MC where every single character is in love with them if you want. write a 100k word fic about your OC being isekaid into x world. post about your f/os, draw art of you with your fav, go ham.

[supermightyglue]

omgg im so obsessed with your jackass oc’s. i dont have a specific headcanon request but could you write more about a main cast girl?

yesssss yes !! & thank u sm that means the world <3 i have many more ideas and am gonna post actual headcanons and stuff but for now take this very random and very specific shit

her nickname is pissbaby. i have said it before but i must say it again so everyone is aware. she got it growing up and tbh there isn’t a real reason for it other than the fact that she has pissed herself a few times

went to the met gala with knox (was def invited before he was tho)

braids pontius’ hair a lot. does his hair in general. she’s good with hair styling nd even cuts her own

was the one to receive the off road tattoo

is always paired with knox (and tremaine sometimes) for press shit

has a lot of modeling/movie offers but tbh she just wants to skate and do stunts and travel and hang out with her guys

ik i said she cant cook but i changed my mind. cooking is lowkey her love language. she’s a vegetarian but doesn’t mind cooking meat if someone wants it. a long day filming? invites everyone over and cooks for them.

doesnt cook for herself tho. the queen of struggle meals. buys a lot of cereal

also always let’s ppl crash at her place. pontius is there a lot cuz the whole living in his van situation. he and steve were in her (iconic) cribz ep

present for most of the wildboyz trips even if she didn’t appear in the episode. she loves animals and traveling and learning about other cultures so it was like heaven for her

CRAZY stupid .. like, almost as bad as knoxville. she somehow was able to get in the bullpen and it scared the shit out of everyone (especially steve o)

honestly she doesn’t like fucking with animals and doesn’t wanna do anything to hurt them. she feels bad for certain things they do and regrets stressing them out

and she can be really sweet, but with animals? she is practically a different person. she turns into such a softie

has a few doggies. all rescues and with disabilities because she gets sad when people don’t want them

probably closest to the wildboyz, especially pontius. but knox too, and dunn <3

super fond of preston too. he’s so sweet and she can’t help but adore him

ppl swear either chris or pj is her soulmate (myself included nd i cant decide who pls help me)

always down for skate sessions

is sponsored by powell peralta (and is kinda at war with bam because he thinks his element sponsorship is better)

very fashionable. an it girl. (again, i picture her as devon aoki)

super scrappy and will fight a grown man

she knows how to fall because she’s a skater but she also has gotten some GNARLY injuries. usually to her head. always has bruises

knows first aid and she isn’t a medic obv but she has been SUPER helpful in certain situations

literally unable to drive, and yet, she drove for part of the gumball rally .. she managed to genuinely scare the guys. she doesn’t have her license for a reason.

one of those ppl who genuinely does not need deodorant but unfortunately the smell of jackass clings to her

has a lot of girl friends. she is a girl supremacist. we don’t blame her.

she can be really mean sometimes but most of it is on accident. she just doesn’t have a filter. the guys don’t really care tho, she fits in

ska music enthusiast. and a deadhead

so she doesn’t puke and doesn’t get grossed out HOWEVER she refuses to take part in that yucky shit. hell no. that’s what crosses the line.

once the guys collected a cup of their mixed sweat and poured it on her and she has never been so mad. like, she gets mad, she has a temper, but she lost her shit in a way that she never has before. made them turn off the camera. knoxville was the one to pour it—no one else was brave enough. tremaine was even on the fence about it. she ended up breaking knox’s nose. he was a good sport about it. they didn’t fuck with her in that way ever again

she can be kinda mean but it’s usually on accident cuz she has no filter. but for the most part the guys don’t give a fuck and it’s funny

interviewers and paps can be really really rude and sexist and the guys can’t help but get pissed and say stuff because they love her. BUT they also know that no one is better at defending her than she is. don’t fuck with her. ever. she will practically end someone’s career. she does not give a shit