#rest vs. laziness

[fatherowlcoaching]

Doing Nothing Leads to Nothing

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[itslilacokay]

AU JUMPSCARE!!!!!!!!!!!

its just a normal swap au..... right? WRONG!

i want to explain this allllll in a future post do you guys wanna see that pleeeease let me know

[elegyofthemoon]

my need to powerwash my brain by spending my time exploring the dreamscape vs the dreamscape trapping me in stealth games

[darabeatha]

@predeition said ; Can Ashmi and I marry all your muses / from : 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃

M―MARRIAGE !?!

[financia012]

Lazy Days: A Source of Rest or Unproductivity?

Do lazy days make you feel rested or unproductive? In today’s fast-paced world, taking a lazy day can feel like a rare luxury. But does it leave you feeling truly rested or unproductive? Many of us struggle with finding balance between relaxation and guilt. Let’s explore the real benefits of lazy days and how to make the most of them. The Rest Factor Lazy days give your mind and body time to…

[reapersmarch]

I used the max amount of images in the post so an addendum here. here's the side by side:

this can become more/less dramatic if you want it to be, it really is just a matter of how painterly you want it to look. like, in this example, I went with more emphasis on carving shapes out in the shadows:

common places I will do this are around the crease of the nose, the nostril, around the eye corners and lids, the lips and the brow. u can see where I use harder lines to make the eyebags more pronounced (a favourite tactic I always use).

I also applied some other hashtag Skillz™ here wherein I soften the lines and use a clipping mask to colour parts of it that I want the light to hit or I want the shadows to blend. the mouth looks lineless but it's really just the lines being made the same colour as his lips to give that illusion ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

again, I have no idea what I'm doing generally speaking, this is just what works for me!!

by the way: chromatic aberration at about 2-4%, a really saturated red set to overlay at about 8-10, another saturated blue set to overlay 8-10, and a very very pale colour of your choice (I usually use one that suits the lighting I'm going for, but go to is a pale peach or lilac) hit with a high level of noise (I just eyeball it. usually around 15% ish) set to soft light at 10-20%. this is literally how I finish every single one of my bigger more refined pieces, but even the smaller sketchier ones get hit with some variation of this. it hides most sins. I used it on the above tutorial and example, and used it here:

*beachtega might have had the blue overlay layer omitted because it was TOO blue, but you get the idea

no one asked for this, but I've seen enough people mention the way I render that I figured I'd give some of my trade secrets away

prefacing this with i am entirely self taught and everything i draw has been improvised bullshit LMAO

i havent made a tutorial since i made icons on livejournal so give me a min here. firstly, I use procreate, so I don't know how universal this will be. secondly, this is the brush set I swear by. literally almost exclusively use it.

these specifically are the ones I use a lot:

soft is for drawing, eraser is for everything (painting, blending, and erasing. have used it to draw sometimes but it's not the best for it), and finger smudge is for blending and (sometimes) blush or generally very big soft colour application. the "hard rough - colour" was one I duplicated when I was using rough and hard rough more. I don't use it any longer.

here's a bel(f) drawing I did earlier this month that I sort of cleaned up a bit (barely) and his colour palette with the flats laid down:

when I start laying down the shading, everything goes on various multiply clipping mask layers. opacity varies. usually I drop the layer to about 40-60%, then adjust as necessary.

with my first shadow colour, I block out where I want the shadows to go. this layer is set to multiply at 50%:

at this point idc about blending, I'm really just looking to get the placement down here. once i Do That, then I'll go in and blend out some areas. I like some hard lines, as that really defines the soft ones, so while blending, I also use the eraser to carve out highlight areas:

I can't tell u nothing about over blending because I'm 99% I over blend anyway lol but just use ur best judgement. when I'm happy with that, I'll make a new clipping mask layer set to multiply above the first one and go over areas where I want to emphasize the shadows with my second shadow colour. this multiply layer is always at a lower opacity than the first one. I have it set to 30% here:

any sins can be hidden when I'm done. I put another multiply layer above these layers and set the opacity very low, usually ab 20-25%, and start laying down blush. tbh the opacity really depends on the colours being used. for ric, his gets set much lower and is blended a lot more. here i have this layer set to 25%.

I put blush in the same places: over the nose bridge, around the cheeks, up over the temples, the ears, sometimes a little on the neck, and on the knuckles and shoulders.

will smoth poses there u have it.

for the eyes, I don't use multiply layers. on the flats layer, I lay the base colour, then I go in with the darkest colour. personally, I like to keep the lines for the eyes very light, fill in the base, go erase the line, then use the darkest colour to ring the eye:

obviously you don't have to do that. I use the darkest colour near the top of the iris also and very lightly brush it downwards, then I take the highlight and put it where I want the light to hit:

hair is ez. because I use such a dark colour for bel in particular, that gets set to a lower multiply layer, usually ab 30-40%. this one is set to 40. if I really want to go for more shadow emphasis, I similarly will put another layer over top and make it much lower, then go and add extra shading. et voila:

I'll go in and add highlights in places I want to emphasize, and then finish the image in my usual way (chromatic aberration and a layer of noise hides most sins):

I usually adjust the colour with curves and some overlay layers but that's 2 ur tastes really.

that's really all it is. I also studied the painting style of a friend bc I love the way he lays down colours, and watched a ton of marco bucci videos. this one in particular helped a lot.

anyway that's my secret

[sugarontherush]

experimenting a bit with designs for animator vs animation

- after the note block episodes with green, I thought "WOW he can compose and play music with his hypothetical eyes closed"!" (tbh he doesn't need eyes, all he needs is ears) THEN i thought it was a fun hc that he ALWAYS had his eyes closed no matter the occasion, and that he only opens them on "special occasions" (his eyes are really sparkly and can flashbang someone when he finally opens them as a ref to the faces short)

- blue is able to morph her face into little emoticons unlike the rest of the stick figures, again a reference to the face short

OKAY ONTO THE ART STYLE THING

- i thought it would be neat if like the stick figures, the human versions also came with different art styles. after all, it's the internet and every single one of them is a piece of art made by a different creator with a different vision in mind.

- this is just a fun hypothetical because this would be tricky to incorporate

- popular newgrounds/internet styles at the time definitely could've influenced the way these guys looked, but I was too lazy to research that

[macfrog]

If you ever feel up to it - a little short story from the scom universe about reader and Joel deciding to have a second baby or finding out they're pregnant for the second time would warm my cold dead heart <3

i am. so. sorry. for the word count on this i truly do not know what happened. but i had a lot of fun with it, so. hopefully y'all do, too. happy fathers day! x

jellybean ~4k words | series masterlist warnings: pregnancy symptoms (feeling and being sick, horniness + sleepiness. aka me even when not pregnant), 99% just duckie vs her mom

Duckie spills the secret on a Friday.

The morning is lazy, slow. The breathing of the sea across a plain of beach. Your fingers sift through her hair like the breeze through sun-bleached pages. The way she and the sun tint the room peach.

Sarah sprawls out across the spot still warm on her dad’s side of the bed. She’s in a habit of waking up early to sneak through to your room, lift the bottom of the covers, and army crawl between your bodies.

Joel’s in a habit of stirring to the heat of her at his back, her tiny toes at his spine, and turning to scoop her in one arm. They sleep curled into one another, mouths catching flies.

This morning, though, she’s up to something. She brought a secret.

She’s flat-out on her stomach, pens scratching at the paper. There’s the scent of cherry and lemon and green apple tangling in the air. Taut frown on her face, tongue poked with concentration. She looks just like her dad.

She pauses and looks up at you. “What color is this part?” she asks, dabbing at the blank hubcap.

“Silver,” you reply, fixing the cap back onto the grape pen before it stains your sheets.

She huffs. “I don’t have silver, Mama.”

You tap on the page. “Daddy’s wing mirrors are black, but you did ‘em green. The colors don’t matter, do they?”

But it’s seven a.m., and you’re sharing only the red jellybeans for something of a pre-breakfast snack (the four-year-old’s idea), and you’re exhausted despite having slept the full night, and she keeps halting any time Joel’s humming quietens – just in case he spoils his birthday surprise.

She hunkers down with the lemon pen to nail the emblem of his truck, and you figure – color is just the least of it. Truthfully, to your kid – and so, to you, too – nothing has ever mattered more.

You cup her cheek and lift her gaze back to meet yours. “How about I grab you a glitter pen today, just for the wheels?”

She grins. Little milk teeth, gappy and gummy. Peach fuzz cheeks, sweet as the rest of her, a perfect fit in the palm of your hand.

I love you I love you you’re my whole world I love you, you want to say.

Instead: “Only if we tidy your room later. Deal?”

“Deal, Mama,” Sarah giggles, and her little ink-stained hands splay out across the page again.

She scribbles only a few more splotches of color before you both notice it.

The sudden silence.

The water’s stopped running. The shower screen rattles as he pulls it back. Dripdripdrip from the showerhead straight down to the empty basin.

Sarah twists to watch Joel’s disembodied arm blindly grab for a towel folded on the sink. It whips off out of sight, and he calls through from the bathroom.

“Duckie? You still there?”

“Gogogo,” you whisper, helping your daughter cover her dad’s drawing with blank sheets. “Leave the jellybeans, Duck, save yourself!”

She finds the entire thing hysterical. Swinging her masterpiece under one arm, two fistfuls of rainbow pens, springing from the mattress like it suddenly caught flame. She throws herself from the foot of the bed and dashes across the hall to her own room, candy scattering in her wake.

Joel’s head cranes around the doorframe. “Where’d she go?”

You smile, shrugging. Chewing innocently on a jellybean. “That’s funny. She was here a second ago.”

He pads over to the bed, towel slung loose around his hips. Smirks, when your hungry eyes descend his figure – the bearlike shape of him, all muscle and fur, toned where he needs it but soft where you want it.

He cages over you, dark hair dripping with the smell of citrus, skin sticky.

His lips are like velvet against yours. Tongue still singed with coffee. A low growl from his throat when you lean forward to lick into his mouth.

“Smell so goddamn good,” you murmur, dipping your head to bury into the crook of his neck.

His beard is fuzzier when it’s damp, natural masculine musk melded with the fresh soap and rich aftershave he uses. All honey and oatmeal, mixed with a woodsy scent – and fuck, it’s intoxicating. Moreso than usual – stronger and sexier.

You take his hands and lower them to your hips, letting his fingers knot around the baggy material of your – his T-shirt. Tugging on it, exposing the slip of delicate lace on your hips.

“Darlin’,” Joel warns, “we’re late. We still gotta drop Duckie off – If she walks in –”

You groan, huffing back into the mattress. The weight between your legs ripples over the horizon, pulses into weak nothing.

Joel fixes the shirt back down to your thighs just as the thunder of his daughter’s footsteps rumbles back into the room.

Tonight, he breathes, slicking some of the hair from his face.

You grin, taking his hand to pull yourself back up.

Sarah materializes in the doorway, a lingering half-girl. Smiling from behind the frame, twisting the ball of her foot into the floor.

“Hi, Duck,” Joel says, still playing with your fingers.

“Hi.”

“You look guilty.”

Her grin widens. She totters into the room, launches herself onto the bed, and nuzzles into your side. She squirms when Joel digs his fingers into her waist.

The beats of her laughter drum against your ribs, the same way her fists used to when she lived inside you.

“Alright.” You cradle her, her little head tipping back to wake the rest of Austin up with her squeals of glee. “Are we ready for some actual food, now?”

Joel chuckles, reaching for his mug.

Sarah nods from your lap. Her eyes drift down to the print on your tee. “Mama?”

“Mhm?”

“Do they like jellybeans?”

You frown. “Does who like jellybeans?”

Her finger prods lightly into your tummy. “The baby.”

Joel chokes, splattering coffee into his fist. He slams the mug down, pounds his chest clear of liquid.

“There’s no – Jesus, Joel,” you swipe mocha flecks from the sheets, “Told Sarah to be careful with her pens and then you spray coffee all over the…”

Sarah rolls off, cackling. “Silly Daddy,” she hoots, leaping on the bedroom floor.

“Hey,” you usher her over to the door, “Why don’t you go pick out what you wanna wear today? I’ll be right behind you. Quit tryna give your dad a heart attack, okay?”

“The baby, Mama,” she’s repeating, walking like a little convict. She turns over the threshold to her room like it’s a cell, her pink pajama uniform and guilty expression to go with it. Still laughing, swallowing the ticklish bursts when she notices you’re shaking your head.

“There is no baby.” You kneel before her, repeating, “No baby. Just you. How about your T-shirt with the butterflies?”

It seems to distract her enough. Thank Christ. She gasps, inspired, and twirls off to find the tee.

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, pushing back to your feet.

Joel’s flapping the sheets when you slip back into your room, still clearing his throat. Half-dressed: a white T-shirt over his broad chest and a pair of black boxers. Soaked hair clinging to the back of his neck and drying in flicks across his forehead.

Jesus, you want to pull him back over you and let him have his way.

You close the door over and spin, hands on your hips. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me?” he croaks. “Did you hear what she just said?”

“You’ve known this kid for four years, Joel, you really can’t tell when she’s fucking with you? She’s my kid, keep up.”

“Just seemed an awfully –” he thumps his chest again, “– awfully specific thing to say.”

“She’s in a phase I think,” you reply, catching the pillow he tosses across. “She’s telling stories. Last week, her pre-K teacher congratulated me our supposed wedding. Asked to see pictures of the Mickey Mouse officiant.”

“Jesus,” he grumbles. “She really bought that?”

You mimic the breezy voice: “Sarah was very convincing.”

Joel scoffs. “I don’t know if I can take a lying phase and a copying phase at the same time. Every goddamn word I say, she’s gotta repeat it.”

“She idolizes you,” you straighten the sheets, “I think it’s endearing.”

“Hm. Just wait until it’s you.”

He wanders around the bed, pulls your back against his chest. His arms cross over your tummy, lips pressing into your shoulder where his shirt has slipped.

“How much harder would two be?” he mumbles into the bare skin.

“Two Sarahs?” You scoff.

Joel laughs. “Yeah, you’re right. I forget she runs on chaos and jellybeans.”

“Yup,” you turn in his arms, linking yours behind his neck, “And there ain’t no point in talking about it anyways, because I am not fucking pregnant.”

He rolls his forehead against yours, stealing bristly kisses. “Okay.”

“I’m not, Joel.”

“I believe you, baby.”

Sarah’s bedtime is a liberal eight, eight thirty on weekends. She likes to sit up, lodged between you and Joel on the couch, and help pick the movie you two will watch once she’s in bed.

Once – and only once – Joel tried to fool her by pretending to play her choice, then switching as soon as she went down.

The kid quizzed him on the movie the next morning. He failed. She’s never forgotten.

Tonight, though, Joel’s out. Some game that you know and care too little about sports to learn the name or importance of. He’s with some buddies at the local bar, probably nursing his second beer in as many hours, and counting down the minutes until he can come home to his girls.

Sarah snores soundly, slumped at your side as though butter wouldn’t melt. The flicker from the TV across her face, the gentle mumbling of the voices onscreen. Her hands limp in her lap, fingers idling in a pink snack bowl.

You admire her, stealing a piece of her popcorn. Teeth grinding down when you remember dishing it for her earlier, hearing her curious voice ask whether or not the baby likes popcorn more than jellybeans.

Nope, you sang, tossing a handful in your mouth as you passed her the bowl. Imaginary babies don’t eat popcorn.

She snorted (which unnerved you, because what the fuck is this kid finding so funny?), and followed you to the living room so close that you could feel her toes at your heels.

Some of the kids in her class have siblings. Some older, but mostly younger. It’s the only fucking explanation, the only thing that explains this sudden interest in the real estate of your uterus.

She’s going through a phase, you tell yourself, suckling on popcorn. But then – how many fucking phases do kids go through? Which phases did you go through?

Barney & Friends. That was a fucking phase. Refusing to leave the house without the hoodie your mom bought you from the Museum of Natural History, even in the height of summer. Ketchup and broccoli, your boyfriend at seventeen, frisbeeing your neighbor’s newspaper and aiming for his flowerpots.

Phase, phase, fucking phase.

Does she know something you don’t?

…No. You took a test just last week. Shut up. Stop letting the kid into your fucking head.

Joel’s keys jangle on the other side of the door, shunting into the lock with a sound which stills your brain.

You tilt your head over the back of the couch, your man’s beard tickling your nose as he kisses you. “Evening.”

“Missed you,” he whispers against your lips. He straightens and tugs the jacket from his shoulders. “She not in bed yet?”

“She fell asleep down here,” you reply. “I got too tired to carry her up.”

He caresses your forehead, big pillowy palm. “You feelin’ okay?”

“It’s been a long day,” you grumble.

Joel smiles. He flops down onto the couch beside you, reaching over to stroke Sarah’s head.

You roll, solid as a rock, curling into his side. “She keeps saying it, Joel. She keeps fucking saying it.”

His chest jumps, tectonic plates moving with a laugh. “You’ve met your match, honey. Produced a professional little shit.”

“One of the other moms from her class is pregnant,” you mumble. “That’s gotta be it, right? That’s where she’s getting it from?”

“Maybe,” Joel muses. His fingers link with yours. “Why don’t you take a test anyways? Settle it in your mind?”

It startles you awake, even if only enough to prove the fucking point.

“No, Joel!” you hiss, body jerking. “If I take a test, and it turns out negative – which it will – she wins! My four-year-old fooled me. No,” you pluck spilled popcorn from your lap, pinging it back into the bowl, “I know this kid. I gave birth to this kid. She is not fucking winning.”

“Alright, baby,” he coos, “it’s okay. I won’t let the four-year-old fool you.”

You glower. “Thanks, asshole.”

He chuckles. “She’d make the best big sister, though. She would,” he insists, when you huff back against his chest. “She’d love being the oldest. Get to be bossy, get to call the shots. Get to protect them, no matter what.”

Your voice feels so small, as inquisitive as your daughter’s when you blink up at him. “Were you protective over Tommy?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, he was annoying as all hell – and I told him so – but anyone else had anythin’ to say about him, and – well, they had me to deal with.”

“Big scary Joel Miller,” you whisper, yawning into his shirt. “I knew him once.”

“Mhm,” he rumbles, “You sure did.”

You look up again, blinking all doe-eyed and dreamy. Already half-asleep.

“He never scared me,” you whisper.

Joel smiles.

“Well, you scared the hell outta him.”

Saturday morning, you wake to an empty bed. No snoring man, no scribbling girl. Just you – a starfish on the mattress. Bathing in waves of late-morning sun, sheets for coral, body as heavy as though you really are at the bottom of the ocean.

Her giggles carry all the way upstairs. Sarah. They surf into the room on a sunbeam, sounds like bubbles which shatter and sprinkle over your aching body.

You smile into Joel’s pillow, breathing in the smell of him, and peel your eyes open.

It’s ten thirty. Definitely – you blink three times and rub at your eyes, just to make sure. Ten thirty, and something’s swirling behind your navel. Something that sharpens, sours, when you push yourself upright.

“Oh, shit,” you rasp, and throw yourself across the room.

You barely make it, collapsing in a heap at the toilet. Your stomach empties in seconds; three heavy, painful gags and your head is in the bowl, choking on last night’s dinner.

“Motherfucker,” you spit, gasping, “Oh, Jesus.”

You’re sick. You’re just sick. Sarah probably caught something from pre-K, passed it on without even knowing. And, hey – you feel better, now that that happened.

You’re just sick. Nothing else.

“Mornin’,” Joel calls, watching as you stagger into the kitchen.

Sarah mimics his drawl. “Mornin’, Mama.”

“Hi, Duckie.” You crumple into the chair beside her, shoulders hunched. The smell of burnt toast and grape juice twists up your nose, and you suck in a slow breath.

Joel sweeps a hand over your forehead. He tips your jaw up to face him. “You alright? Thought we heard running.”

Sarah rips a slice of toast in two. She stares at the fluffy insides, the jam dripping from the tear. The sight of it lifts the hairs on your skin, the gloopy mess splattering onto her plate.

“Just feel kinda…funny,” you slur, turning away.

“Funny? Funny how?”

“Funny how?” your daughter parrots.

You shrug. Every word, every inhale makes you feel even more nauseous. “Probably just ate something.”

“Heard that one before,” Joel drones, and you throw him a flat look.

Sarah licks the jam from her fingers. She holds her tiny hands up to her dad, snorts when he pretends to bite at them.

“Eat your breakfast, Duckie,” he says then – in his Dad voice. And in something softer, kinder: “Can I make you somethin’?”

You swat the idea away, but it’s already churning in your stomach again. “Just gotta – get over whatever it – is.”

The table falls silent. Joel and Sarah stare blankly at one another. When you turn to look at your daughter, she’s staring straight back. Smirking.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you clip, wincing again at the dribbling jam.

“Alright,” Joel utters, “I think you oughta take a test now.”

“That is not what this is,” you groan, petulantly pushing up from your chair.

He takes your hand, steadying you. “No? I was thinking about it, baby, and I don’t think we’ve been safe enough to be so sure.”

You dump your golden toast in the trash and turn, crossing your arms. Your shoulders lift. “We’re not being any less safe than we have been the last four years.”

“Safe,” Sarah says, and Joel holds a finger up.

“No,” he tells her. “No. Not that word. Go back to funny.”

She beams at him. “You’re funny, Daddy.”

He sighs, pacing over. “Look,” he lowers his plate into the sink, “I’ll take Duckie to the park. Let you rest up, give you a quiet house for the morning. But darlin’, if you’re not better by tonight, you’re takin’ a test.”

You grimace. “But she –”

“I know –” he grits his teeth, “– I know you don’t want her to be right. But I want you to be okay, more ‘n I want to prove my child wrong. Like it or not, you’re taking a damn test.”

Your eyes flit across to the kid swinging her legs in her chair, the splotch of jam down her Peppa Pig T-shirt. Your greatest accomplishment and your biggest challenge, wrapped up into a hundred-centimeter, jellybean-fueled monster.

Her cheeks lift, jam-covered and smug.

“Funny,” Sarah says, nodding.

The afternoon strings the sun high in the sky.

You’ve been home alone for the better part of an hour, busying yourself by cleaning to take your mind off the nausea tugging at your esophagus. Making and remaking beds, folding laundry until your fingers cramp.

Sarah’s room has never been tidier. Joel’s workshop has never seen so little dust. And you have never been more determined to prove your four-year-old wrong.

You’re lingering in the bathroom, the window gaping. Sucking in breath after breath of fresh air – which only serves to tickle the acid burning its way up your throat, entice it further.

You’re emptying the cabinets, reorganizing them into some senseless order. Playing Tetris with boxes of Band-Aids, slotting in tubes of toothpaste. You blindly reach behind your hip for the next box – a nearly empty thing which rattles when you lift it, jitters as though nervous.

You glance down.

“Fuck off,” you hiss, throwing it on the shelf beside some tampons.

It stares back at you, as blinding as the sun. The two display window examples, pregnant and not pregnant, like a wink peering out from the dull cabinet.

Your gums taste of bitter bile, rancid. Teeth furry and aching. Your entire body aches – though nothing quite so bad as the space below your ribs, still tender from all your retching.

Slowly, your hands slip down your front to cup your lower tummy. Rounder than before, suppler – bloated, even.

“’s from all the throwing up,” you tell nobody in particular. Maybe yourself. There’s a desperate edge to your voice, almost a plea.

But then – a plea to who? For what? There was nothing you loved more than carrying Sarah for nine months. Duck. Start saying duck. Baby Duck.

You were never on your own. She was right there. Someone to talk to, someone to complain to. Someone to weep to, in the quietest lulls of night.

Her language came to you as easily as your own. All her kicks and punches, her fucking acrobatics while you tried to sleep. It was love, in its most chaotic form.

And you loved her, the very moment you saw those two lines. The very moment you realized she’d been in there the whole time.

You realize now, squatted on your bathroom floor, that it feels the exact same. A warmth, radiating from your very core, if only you’d pay it enough attention to feel it.

Like there’s someone there. Right there.

“If you’re fucking with me,” you warn your stomach, reaching for the single test, “I will lose my shit.”

Love, in its most chaotic form bursts through your bedroom door no less than half an hour later.

“Hi, Mama!” Sarah sings, tearing through the room with her hands behind her back. Her knees bump against the side of your bed, the air about her summer-warm and pollen-sweet.

“Hi, little Duck,” you mumble, voice swollen. You wipe sleep from your eyes, asking, “How was the park?”

She answers with a wide grin on her face, whipping out a small, shabby bunch of flowers. Dandelions and daisies tangled around one another, loose petals scattering over your bedsheets.

“Oh, baby,” you push yourself up, ignoring the sickly weight in your stomach, “Are these for me?”

She nods. She dusts her hands free of grass when you take the bouquet. And then, as you smell them and hum with delight, she turns.

First, over to the dresser. She stares at her reflection, pokes at some of the makeup on the table. Then over to the window – where her breath fogs the glass. You hear the whack of Joel’s tailgate closing, and she tracks him into the house, before examining the windowsill.

You watch nervously as she drifts back over to the bed, a curious hop to her movements. Inspecting, like she knows there’s something waiting to be found. Someone.

“Did you have fun with Daddy?” you ask.

“Yep,” her small voice says, distant and distracted. She disappears into the dim bathroom.

You slump back down on the mattress, dropping the flowers in a clump on your bedside table. “I don’t even know when I fell asleep, baby girl,” you say through a yawn.

Sarah doesn’t reply.

“Duckie?”

“What’s this?”

You lift your head. “What’s wh…Oh, n-no, Duckie, wait –”

She flees past you, one fist raised and wielding the pregnancy test.

“Sarah! Jesus, fuck –”

You’re chasing after her before you have a chance to consider it – nausea be damned. She’s squealing something, roaring with laughter, blitzing out into the hallway. She swivels, ladders down the stairs backwards, leaps straight into the arms of –

“Christ, Sarah –”

Joel stumbles backwards with the force she throws at him. She’s safe in his arms by the time you reach the top of the stairs, waving the stupid stick around his head like it’s a magic wand.

“Daddy!” Sarah cries.

He glances up to you: hunched over the top step, panting, clutching your stomach. He pinches the test from her grasp. “What do we got here, baby duck?”

She kicks her feet. She has no fucking idea what they have, but she knows you didn’t want her near it – and if you know your kid, you know that’s all the catalyst she needed to fucking take it.

You slowly make your way down towards them, smirk growing the nearer you draw.

Joel glances down to the test. The creases by his eyes deepen. He hugs Sarah closer.

“Two...two means...pregnant, right?” he asks.

You sigh, nodding. “Mhm.”

His head lifts.

He breaks, the second he sees your expression. Eyes glassy, tears spilling onto your cheeks. The same smile you wore that June morning: sleep-deprived and shellshocked, a love pumping through your veins so strong that you thought you might burst with it.

Joel reaches for your hand, reels you in against his body.

“Shit,” he laughs, holding the test up.

Your shaking hands take it from him – though you already knew what it says. You were dreaming of it all when Sarah broke into your room.

Dreaming of linked hands and echoed giggles; of bunkbeds and matching surnames, of all four seats in the truck filled and all four chambers of your heart spoken for.

Dreaming of one on each hip, one in each hand. Dreaming of them tag teaming Joel, of the word kids slung with his southern twang. My kids, the kids, our kids. All ours.

Dreaming of two Sarahs, goddamn it. Because nothing ever completed your life as effortlessly as one Sarah, and – hell, she was born to follow in her dad’s footsteps and become the elder Miller sibling.

“Shit,” you agree, turning to sob into Joel’s chest.

“Duckie,” Joel says, voice hoarse and choked by tears, “You’re gonna be a big sister.”

She giggles, tracing the damp lines down your cheeks. As she reaches your jaw, the elation on her face slowly dwindles into something of a frown.

Your lips part to repeat it – a big sister, Duck – when her tiny voice steals the air from your lungs.

“Shit!”

[domiiomii]

Sevika is my favorite character but it is hard for me to analyze her because I feel her ending is so unfitting for the rest of her writing and feels so forced it makes me second guess every other thing that was established about her, it is truly sad to me how the conclusion for such an interesting character ends up being imo a lazy way to tie lose ends for the rest of the abandoned Zaun vs. Piltover class war plot line.

I was thinking about this because I found this concept art of how Sevika would use Silco's office as her room after his death and it is so harrowing how for Sevika her entire life was Zaun's liberation.

The thing about her is, unlike Silco who at least had Jinx, she 100% sacrificed her whole personal life for revolution and thus perhaps her compromise to it was even higher than Silco's and then she becomes part of the same system that she spend her whole life fighting against? How do we make any sense of that?

I see Sevika leaving Vander, because of his refusal of fighting against Piltover, as such an important point for her character and I would argue probably the most important we see in establishing who she is, her ideologies and how much she is willing to sacrifice for that dream. Then Act 3 happens and it is such a weird watch for me because clearly the writing was trying to re-establish her as a sort of Vander figure with the whole "we don't hand over our own people" thing (even though I would argue her motivations where ideological while Vander's were personal), her giving a speech on Vander's statue, under his shadow. It feels like an attempt to make her into a "good-zaunite" by making her into a completely de-fanged version of herself and what that ends up meaning is her becoming non-threatening to the status quo and instead becoming part of the system, legitimizing it and therefore protecting it.

In this regard I think that Sevika choosing to follow Silco might be as important as her abandoning Vander. I find their relationship very interesting because they have similar ideologies and Silco is so dependant on Sevika and they both know it, for over 7 years she could have abandoned, betrayed or disposed of him but she didn't because she understood that violence was the only way to liberation and in that path she did all sorts of reprehensible things just like Silco for that ultimate goal again with the understanding that violence was necessary, she chose Silco because she understood that liberation would come through struggle not by manking deals with your oppressors like Vander did... And then just like Vander she ends up doing exactly the same thing, rendering all those years of struggle, all those actions, violence and atrocities meaningless.

And so for me most of what we knew of her character and what was established about her ideology becomes nonsensical when we see how she ended, either you take it as she completely betrayed herself and what she fought for her whole life or she was never the person the writing showed us her to be and just acted without thinking all those years (?). Furthermore we are shown just few episodes before the end how the people of the undercity don't even listen to her, so again it is just confusing how she ends up as a council woman for a city that doesn't even want her.

Ultimately if this was some sort of commentary about how revolutionaries can become sucked into politics and be de-fanged in favor of becoming part of the system rather than fighting it I could accept it even if I didnt like it but with how reactionary and anti-revolutionary s2 is, it just feels more like a "see? violence is never the answer! if you want change just become a diversity hire and change the institutions that oppress you from within!" /sarcasm

[beegalactica]

How to be an A* Student in 2025

2025 is the year of THE academic comeback, but it's not just a comeback, it's a full academic GLOW UP. The best part about these tips is that this is not meant to be short-term, this is meant to help you create long-term hot girl habits that will help you year after year after year.

Imagine being a student is like training in the gym: if you want to see long-lasting results, you don't go to the gym for a while and then drop off and get lazy, so why do we see studying as a long-term chore, when it's a long-term privilege?

So many people worldwide dream of having an education, but do we really want to waste it all by scrolling on social media and rotting in bed? I don't think so.

Get organised: Get your notes in order. Turn a subject topic into a cheat sheet or revision booklet. Update your notes after each class. Get your homework out of the way as soon as possible. Create a list of all your topics for each class and rate each topic Red/Orange/Green based on how confident you feel - when it's time to study, start with the red topics.

Create a schedule: If you like things being super organised down to the last detail, try time-blocking and schedule specific time slots to complete your tasks. If you like being more flexible and fluid, set subjects to focus on each day and write a rough to-do list (I set one main task per subject). Make sure you do the subjects that you hate more than you do the ones you like, revising is meant to be uncomfortable, that's how you train your brain and overcome challenges.

Stick to it: Use the Pomodoro technique if you struggle to sit down and start. Start on a 5-minute break to train your brain to slowly stop what you're doing and get started. I would recommend 25/5 repetitions but if you're like me and can deep work for hours with full concentration, do what works best for you but do not end up working for hours without breaks or water. Make sure you take breaks to move around, hydrate and rest your brain and eyes.

Just sit down to start: if you really struggle with procrastination, set up all your work, put your phone away, and just stare at your work - that always gets me to start working because I get bored.

Prioritise long-term gains: Top students focus on studying little and often rather than cramming the night before. This can be 1 hour a day for 5 days prepping for a test vs 5 hours the night before. If you have a period where you don't have any tests right then, but you know you have a long-term exam coming forward, why not spend just 15 minutes to make sure your notes are organised? Always think about the big picture. The topic might not be the most important thing right now, but you know it will be important in the final exam, so if you have some downtime, why not make sure you're confident in it?

Work-life balance: Whilst it's good to be an academic weapon, your social life doesn't have to suffer at the same time. This is why scheduling is so important - it helps you utilise your time efficiently, and limit how much time you waste trying to decide what to study, so you can have more time to spend on things you love. Dedicate 1 hour a day to something you love to do and make sure you do it!

Find what works for you: Experiment with different techniques. Just because one technique works for one subject doesn't mean it will work for another. Just because it works for even just one topic doesn't mean it will work for another. Don't be afraid to switch things up and curate your study habits to suit your tastes. Always remember - the only person it has to make sense for is YOU.

Let me know if you would like more tips or a more in-depth explanation about any of these! I am really passionate not only about education but also about how we can all harness it to become well-rounded people. I have also been a straight A/A* student my whole life so I have many tips to share!

[tojisun]

call of duty masterlist - 01

02 mlist; 03 mlist; series mlist

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all works belong to tojisun. all forms of reposting are not permitted; please do not translate, copy, revise and/or refine my works.

short legend:

❦︎ - nsfw

last updated: march 22, 2024

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- SIMON (GHOST) RILEY

sweet like cinnamon

right to heaven ❦︎

like a sugar rush ❦

in his favourite sundress

how he loves

little marks - suggestive

forehead kisses

cigarettes n kisses

like a sugar venom

teasin touches

just you and me - suggestive

cinnamon on my teeth

young and in love

liquid velvet on your tongue ❦

break me softly

glinting in the dark ❦

claim me softly and carnally ❦

lazy mornings

missin’ you

gon’ wife ‘er up ❦ - fan fave

she said what?

dirty talking and promises ❦

pull out- ❦

holiday special!!

coming back to you

cherry waves

the hottest

remember his hands - p link!! ❦

still your passenger

how he fucks ❦

anniversary of an uninteresting event

needy needy ❦

dark signs

distraction

strumming for you

marry me?

how it must be to date him (visuals)

giggles and love makin - suggestive ❦

his kinks ❦

cuteness and shyness

so drunk of you ❦

drag me under

his beautiful worship ❦

show him how desperate you can be ❦

open for a threesome ❦

tall people things

your ‘boyfriend’ [simon’s heart eyes]

caging you in ❦

jewelled eyes ❦

teaching you how to shotgun ❦

his jealousy burns

more than friends, less than lovers (but it’s getting there)

- JOHN PRICE

my precious wife ❦

pick up truck? pick up truck!

lap sittin n thigh humpin ❦

pretty puppy

leather and choking - p link!! ❦

tracing his hand

his loving touch

work song (hozier)

you love it like this ❦

- KONIG

my little sparkle - 01, 02 ❦

little prey ❦

sweaters and crushes

how he claims - p link!! ❦

he loves you like this - semi-dark

the silliest

- VALERIA GARZA

nothing to lose

her pretty little gf

trophy wife

doing her makeup

my wife

- JOHNNY (SOAP) MACTAVISH

a little louder ❦

wrapped in me

cherry pics plz ❦

- KEEGAN P RUSS

his princess ❦

all his ❦

- ALEJANDRO VARGAS

he's missed you

- KYLE (GAZ) GARRICK

the kind one ❦

- MULTI (COD)

the honest man - konig vs. simon (ghost) riley ❦︎

your little scarlet - simon (ghost) riley & john price ❦︎

took your life away - alejandro vargas vs. valeria garza

sharing is caring - tf 141 ❦

warming ‘em up - konig/(ghost) riley/(soap) mactavish ❦

sugar and cookies and crushes - price & soap

the cuckolding of simon - ghost/keegan

so wet for us - ghost/price ❦

his command - poly!141; price x reader x simon ❦

and when he leaves, it will feel like death - open character

- MULTI (OTHER)

slice of cherry pie - toji fushiguro/simon (ghost) riley

white lines pretty daddy - toji fushiguro/simon (ghost) riley ❦︎

tight bf shirts <3 - ghost/soap/gojo ❦

bundling him up in your warmth - ghost/toji/aizawa

sharing is caring - toji/ghost - suggestive ❦

how big? - ghost/toji ❦

how they taste - ghost/toji ❦

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𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 this is a completed masterlist (i reached 100 links LMAO) so pls refer to 02 & 03 mlists for the rest of oneshots and the series mlist for ongoing works ^v^ ୨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

[yoshimura110]

One-shots

Vampire Cookie-Babysitter

Vampire Cookie is known as a lazy vampire, who is always drunk with wine(?). He may not be a good example for children, but he is a good takecarer since he had some experience with his sister in the past. Sometimes vampire Cookie will have to look after Y/n. All he will do is put them into a baby seat(despite Y/n is not a baby) when he take a nap and drink some wine while carrying them around.

And, of course, he will not give wine to them even if he get drunk.

Chili Pepper Cookie-Babysitter

Chili Pepper Cookie is a cookie who likes a good treasure, and she is not a good babysitter, but it doesn't mean she is that bad either... Chili Pepper Cookie will bring Y/n around on her adventures as her crime partner.

She will use the small cookie cuteness as a distraction while she takes some wallets from behind. She will make sure to protect them even its a little dangerous for their adventures.

And them receive some candies and money just to not tell the others (:

Mystic Flour Cookie VS Dark Cacao Cookie(dragon lord)

Well... where i should start...

After that, events of cookies of the Dark Cacao Kingdom get in ill of flour. Dark Cacao, with his soldiers, decided to go to beast yeast. Many hours later, Dark Cacao lost some of his soldiers, and he continued adventure with the strange palace with the rest of his soldiers.

Since everyone knows the events, i will start talking about Y/n. After the battle with Shadow Milk Cookie, Y/n were adventure with Gingerbrave and with others on beast yeast. In the middle of the way, a fog flour appeared, making everyone lose the vision. "i-i c-cant see...G-gingerbrave! Can you hear me?!

They looked around and didn't hear or found anything. The small cookie walked inside the fog, confused, searching for their friends. "Someone? Hello?..." Y/n start get very relaxed for some reason, their body seem light.

Suddenly, they hear an unfamiliar voice. "Are you lost, little one?". Y/n heard the unfamiliar voice hesitating and scared decided to follow the voice. "Who is there? Where are my friends?"

"Follow my voice...I will help you." The more steps Y/n took more, their body seemed to get light and weak the fog disappeared. "Where I am?"

The small cookie was inside a cave in a mountain. In front of them was an unfamiliar cookie, with a kind expression, but for some reason, the small cookie felt something wrong on that cookie...it made them remember Shadow Milk...

"Fear not little cookie, I Mystic Flour will take away your worries away... no need to fear, you are safe from the pain and manipulation you suffer from others"

Before Y/n could say anything, they coughed flour, and their vision got fuzzy. "..."

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

"Beast!" A loud voice could be heard in the cave. The voice was from Dark Cacao Cookie, who held his sword appointed towards Mystic Flour with the white and black dragon on his shoulders. His appearance was more powerful and without worries. "Give me back Y/n, my soldiers and my cookies! I will end your evilness!"

Mystic Flour was on the throne(?), the small cookie on a jar next to it, it was annoyed due dark Cacao refuse to turn to Flour, it couldn't take the soul jam back. "Your foolish cookie, I was going to set you free from pain, but you still refuse...and about this little cookie you really think you can take care of them after everything you done to your own son?"

"My actions were wrong but it doesn't mean I will stop to fight for ones I care, even if it means spill my jam I will fight for saving my kind from you!"

The beast standed from her throne and walked towards dark Cacao after she caressed the jar with the small cookie inside

Everything around the room turned to flor, the beast stared at Dark Cacao with a dark expression, Dark Cacao was ready to fight with his sword in hand.

who will win?

[mattastr0phic]

Red Vs. Blue face headcanons! Since y'all wanted em out before Season 19 dropped!

In defense of Simmons not being a red haired twink: big buff DnD and science nerd.

And some extra notes under the cut:

You can take all these with a silly grain of salt, I'm not a long-time RvB fandom frequenter but did like some bits.

Simmons: Dutch-Irish but keeps getting called 'of a Latino persuasion' by Grif. Also funnily uses 'cracker'. (so mixed.) Cybernetics built from the same sort of stuff Lopez is made out of, visibly running down the left of his face, neck, ribcage, and arm. His arm worked the best for Grif because they're around the same height.

Grif: Too lazy to cut much of his hair, but it's necessary when his helmet doesn't properly secure. Also, a beard is beneficial for catching some little save-for-later snacks. Carving started out as a fidgeting task if he somehow couldn't sleep.

Donut: Just barely hits the twunk allegations in comparison as the lankiest out of a group of fat and buff guys, somehow more durable than all of them despite it and is still above average in build. Started really trying to compensate for his image because of his scar, which developed into really being able to love himself.

Sarge: LOVES his sergeant stripes. Don't tell him but his eyes might be blue. He will say they're grey, though. Don't ask about the bullet hole in his head, either. It's not that he doesn't want to talk about it, just that he'll probably go on a rant about Grif.

Church: Rest in piss Jimmy. Church doesn't naturally feel sleepy though, not like he has this body for long. The scar on his neck was smooth enough to not raise any alarm, and a lack of sleep may have hindered his fight-or-flight reflexes while he still lived...

Tucker: A few scars from his alien encounter, a glimmer in his eyes a slight indication of his connection with the blade-key along with the visor changes. Poor guy couldn't grow his hair long because of the helmet.

Caboose: Most head trauma of anyone ever, injuries hidden by his thick curly hair. Sure doesn't keep him down! It may contribute to a loop of him losing teeth and continuing to worry about the tooth fairy being mad at him, though.

[ineffably-human]

We're going to scream about Nandermo all week, but right now I need to talk about Baron Afanas. Because the Baron's arc, so to speak, always felt like a big part of the series DNA for me - and oh fuck did this episode deliver on why.

I think we can agree: in the show, vampire society is fucked up, right?

Vampires on their own have plenty to deal with that can make them crazy. They have to live by killing. They lose everyone from their old lives. They have to find new reasons to keep going on, forever, so shit can get decadent really fast.

But holy shit, what that's turned into in vampire society? Where you actively put cruelty over mercy, and violence over solving your problems? Death cults and scam artists roam free, but if someone has depression the best thing to do is ignore them. Someone can get their mind wiped or be locked up for centuries, and that's just what you do to your species.

--

So: the Baron's arrival is the first conflict of the whole show. The joke is about an ancient powerful creature of pants-shitting terror, vs three lesser vampires who just want to live their lives and not get murdered for being too lazy to conquer humanity. There's a lot of talk about how to please him: do you keep to the old ways, or pick up some new traditions? Decorate with flayed skin, or with glitter? And the Baron says: who cares, you're all soft and useless. All that matters is getting more control over this world, until people are cattle and we have no reason to hide anymore.

But later he confesses: that shit stopped mattering ages ago. He's not even real nobility, he's literally impotent, and he talks about doing horrible things because he doesn't know what else to say. He's angry and half-crazy from boredom. And admitting that, owning those feelings, means suddenly he has three new friends and a whole new world of things to enjoy.

There's the Baron the rest of the vampire world knows, but for one night we see the ancient, unknowable terror was just a guy. Maybe he's always been just some guy.

That fun puts him in a vulnerable position, and he's killed by the most unwitting vampire slayer in fiction. But Baron Afanas is changed. He sucks dirt for a year and still comes out of it with a new lightness and joy to him. He saves the Sire, another ancient terrifying monster everyone was eager to kill or send away. They adopt the hellhound. They get cozy and give advice. They make popsicle stick houses and go on walks. They live.

And that seemed like the end of the story until last night - when the Baron suddenly felt like the butt of a joke everyone knew but him. Spurred on by someone else who feels lonely and ignored, the Baron felt vulnerable. And he snapped back to how he lived for centuries.

'What the hell are you all doing, enjoying yourselves? We're supposed to be unhappy. We're supposed to live centuries of unhappiness, bringing pain to everyone in our path, and we're definitely not supposed to cheer up our friend who's sad.'

--

Nobody liked the Baron before Guillermo killed him, not even other powerful vampires we meet; they saw the Baron as a crazy far beyond their own crazy. But this is also how vampire society values you. It's how they measure Nandor's worth when they think he's dead, too: how old and powerful you are, how much you've been able to conquer and kill.

Vampire pods are both cliquish and aren't expected to last in the first place. If someone dies, you literally paint them out of your lives and forget. Everything we see discourages feelings, sincerity, or even basic companionship. The only way to earn respect is to be cruel. The more cruel you are, the more powerful you are. The more powerful you are, the more feared you are - the lonelier you are, the crazier you are. It's practically designed to create the Baron, or worse.

But new vampires don't behave that way. And the vampires we follow in the show don't behave that way - because they have each other, because they've been encouraged to have each other, often by Guillermo. (Holy shit, Nadja saying maybe she'd be fine dying, and Nandor immediately asking if she's okay? Nothing changes in this house, except everything does. They're not going to almost lose one of their own ever again.)

The vampires in the heart of vampire culture never seem happy to be like this. It doesn't have to be like this.

--

The Baron doesn't become a tyrannical monster for long. Because he never actually was one - and because he spends two evenings and a fireball to the face, watching Nandor and Nadja fight for Guillermo. Watching them plead and cling and defy, seeing Guillermo's earnest feelings in spite of his bloodline and the mistakes he's made. Seeing Nandor's perfect trust, and then his grief, the way he insists that Guillermo was never 'just' anything. The Baron can't find real fulfillment in hurting someone (because that ship sailed ages ago). He can't deride them for caring, because he's cared for a long time now.

And when the Baron admits that's who he is, when he says it out loud, he only gains more in his life. He finds new depth in the happiness he'd felt for a while now, because he's admitted and allowed himself to be happy. And now he has the children he's always wanted. Living together, the Baron and the Sire are still ancient and powerful - and they're also family, finding real joy together in a world that was ready to dispose of them.

"I suppose with the right company, it can be beautiful, this eternal existence."

--

There's an inherent selfishness to being a vampire, taking from someone else in order to live. But there doesn't have to be inherent cruelty, or lack of love.

They're all ready to admit they care. The Staten vampires have all cared for Guillermo or each other in their own ways this season. And Guillermo doesn't lack for flaws, but loving his monster family has never been one of them. (When he and Nandor work their shit out, they're gonna be insufferable.)

Now they just have to let the Guide in. Because she's absolutely starved for love, and vampires get pretty fucked up when they're on their own.

[obsessedwrhys]

SCIENCE VS MAGIC

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Donnie disapproves your magical abilities. Sort of enemies to lovers trope, lots of bickering, reader has telekinetic/telepathic powers (origin will be explained throughout the fic), fluff, angst, this fic is kinda long (didnt proof read I got lazy). Reader is fem!!

ᯓ★

To think that all of this started from a normal dumpster that you ended up crashing into after falling out of the sky was like a cliché opening to a movie. Even from the height of the fall, due to your superhuman abilities, you managed to survive but however you endured some severe injuries that left you unconscious.

The crash was loud enough to catch the attention of the four mutant brothers just a few blocks away. Once they made it to the scene, it was like a scene from E.T. They were actually convinced they just witnessed the crash of a spaceship, but there was no spaceship of any kind, just a girl inside a dumpster bin.

"Did she just fall out of the sky?" The eldest asked out of concern.

"Ooooh, do you think she's an alien?" The brother in the blue nudges his brother with a playful smirk.

"According to the visual evidence before me... no, she is NOT an alien Leo"

"Awwww c'mon, maybe aliens also look... humanly!"

"Then does that mean we're aliens?"

"Alright, enough chit-chatting. All this alien talk is making my brain itch. Let's bring her somewhere safe" The eldest suggested which the rest easily went along with.

Just like that you were brought into their lair, you were instantly taken into Donnie's lab to have your wounds treated. Since the brothers trusted him, they left to let him do his work. With his goggles on, he carefully applied medicine on some of your wounds with the help of his tweezers. It was when you hissed that it made his body jump.

"A bit gentle will you?" You asked and he stares at you for a while.... before skedaddling to his monitor to check on your current health status.

From how fast he ran you almost thought you scared him. Just then it came to the realisation that you weren't in your home realm, you were in a completely different place. You could tell because you couldn't detect anyone of your kind with your telepathy. You watched as the... turtle? A walking turtle? Wait turtles walk. A humanoid turtle? Man what realm is this...?

"You're in stable condition even though you fell from about 100 kilometres from the sky. How is that even possible?" He stroked his chin as he taps on the side of his face while trying to make sense of all of this.

"Well... I drank some milk before I ran away. Maybe it made my bones stronger"

"That is absurd. Milk does not make your bones stronger! That supposition is unjustified and irrational. I refuse to hear any of it" He said, or more of the word, yapped. He then took off his goggles and put it aside to continue typing whatever it is on his keyboard.

"Okay, sorry... but I need to get going" You got up but the pain from your injuries made you stutter in your movements, you hiss from the pain.

"That won't be possible. You will need time and energy to heal due to your condition. Besides, what can be more important?" He said, forcing you to lay back down on the operating table.

"Well... would you believe me if I told you I'm a being with superhuman abilities who also happen to be on the run from some space cops because I was accused of breaking realities by travelling in between too much?" You asked. Your question having him bat his eyes at you a few times. Suddenly he starts to examine you with his eyes sparked with intrigue but it was for the wrong reason.

"Ah, hallucination, one of the most common causes of brain damage. How could I have failed to notice this? Could you stare into this light? How many fingers am I holding up?" He continued on trying to examine you but you just stare at him in disbelief.

Of course he thinks you're crazy.

Guess there's only one way to prove yourself.

"Now if you'd just—" The second he sees all of his things floating from the table was when he finally shut his mouth close, his eyes wide from shock as he began to freak out on what to do in this situation.

"I'm not hallucinating and neither are you... this is all magic" You simply said before putting all his things back to it's rightful spots.

He stands there, his eyes not blinking even once as he seems to be having a very hard time digesting your words. Magic?

M.A.G.I.C.?

His left eye twitched which made you wonder if you had just struck a nerve.

"Magic. Does not exist...!" He said, grabbing what seems to be his tool. A staff?

"Magic roughly translates to the art of manipulating natural forces. Annnnnd that's exactly what science does. Magic is just a thing people make up to downplay the works of scientific discovery because SOME people happen to not appreciate the gift of wisdom but rather on fantasy. It's quite self-centered if so to speak" He crossed his arms with a faint smug. Did he just look at you when he highlighted the word some?

"That sucks... but you can't deny that what I have is magic" You said, using your telekinesis to grab a bag of candy from the shelf.

"DONT TOUCH MY STUFF!!"

"I'm not touching!! Look!" You held up both your hands in the air as you used your power to feed yourself the candy roll. He glares at you as he snatches the bag of candy from the air.

"That's it! If you will be staying at MY lair living in MY lab, you will be living under MY rules missy!"

"Missy?!"

"Yes you heard me louuuud and clear!" He said. Ah some part of you is telling you this is gonna be a complicated stay compared to the rest you've had.

For the next few days, you were able to properly get to know the people who have saved you. They introduced themselves as brothers. The one who seemingly always checked up on you was named Raph whilst the other two brothers who are always hanging out with you were Leo and Mikey. That leaves the brother who was... well... constantly eyeing you being Donnie.

The reason why you'd phrase it like that was because every time you found yourself simply resting or spending time with his brothers, you could always catch him spying on you. Most of the time he'd just be peaking from behind objects or if he's feeling brave, he'll straight up choose to stand on the other side of the room with his eyes locked on you like a hawk.

If the staring wasn't weird enough, he would also ask you multiple questions that he seem to have written down in his notebook. He would have the end of his pen pressed against his chin as he asks his questions.

"Well, with your gifted talents, are you able to read minds?" He asked, seated on the ground as he faces you.

"Yes" You responded with your arms folded.

"Confident, but that doesn't mean you're correct. In order to comfirm that theory, we must carry out a test. Now, what number am I thinking?"

"7"

He'd stay silent, his brows slightly narrowed as he slowly nods to himself.

"Interesting... buuuuut 7 is the most common number people would think of in this scenario... it could just be a lucky guess" He said, brushing off your showcase just now while he jot down on his notebook.

You tried your hardest not to roll your eyes once you heard his response. Why does he even bother asking these questions if he doesn't like the answers you give him? Something tells you he's probably just messing with you.

"Alright, next question, are you able to carry out mind control?"

Multiple times, you've told yourself to be patient but as days go by, his behaviour was really driving you insane... to be fair you've also been driving him insane by sharing his room. He seems crazy obsessed with privacy. Which you get. But he's on a whole different level.

"Seriously?" You'd stand in front of his invention. You have no knowledge of what it's even made out of but you were sure it was programmed to keep you out of his side of the room. See it as a semi-transparent wall that he can activate and deactivate.

"I'm not gonna touch your things. You act like I'm some kind of criminal"

"Which YOU AREE!! Your story of being wanted by these space cops easily proves that point. I will NOT risk my tech to be stolen by a space criminal!!" He'd say, pointing at you before crossing his arms with his body facing the other away.

"..... no hard feelings" He'd add in the end.

Riggggght. No hard feelings.

"Well then, I guess I'll just go and have a goodnight sleep" You'd turn on your heels but after taking just a few steps, you'd stop in your tracks. Your back still facing him.

"Oh and by the way, the name space criminal sounds pretty cool. Don't you think?" You'd ask as you show him the remote he needs to deactivate the wall he has set up. The second he sees he has lost it, he began to panic and check for ways out.

"Nononono...! But how?!" He'd question since he was sure it was on him the entire time you've talked.

"A criminal never reveals her tricks" You'd grin as you happily hopped away. The sound of him slamming on the wall making the satisfaction in you grow.

"NO!! DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE!! COME BACK!! HEY!!"

Despite you slowly getting use to his behaviour, you still wonder why he has this much dislike towards you. You wouldn't say it's hate since he's still generous enough to let you stay in his room. But who knows? What if he did actually hate you? You laid down on the skateboard ramp as you stared up at the ceiling.

Your peace soon interrupted once you sensed the familiar presence of someone approaching you. You tried to ignore him when he suddenly sat down beside you. It was awkward silence for a moment.

"... what are you doing?"

"Resting"

"Resting? Does your abilities cause you to grow tired quickly?" He'd ask, whipping out his notebook from out of nowhere.

"Is it like a video game where you have an energy bar for each time you use it? Does it happen to also drain your life force? Do you age faster?" His questions were being asked quicker than you could answer. It was really annoying you like he was a fly that wouldn't leave you alone.

"Do you happen to burn calori—"

"Shhhh" The sound of you shushing him mid sentence made his eyes go wide. It was like he wasn't sure what had just happened.

"Excuse me I wasn't—"

"Shhhh"

His brows twitched almost out of fury once he realised what game you were playing at.

"I—"

"Shhh"

"Now you—"

"Shhhhhhhhh"

"LISTEN—!"

"SHUUUUUSHHH!" Your words causing him to be so frustrated that he had to turn around and mutter whatever that it is to himself. From a few words you could only pick up being 'Dumb dumb' and 'You're the better person here'. You had to admit watching him lose it was hilarious to watch.

When he turned back around, you quickly stopped yourself from grinning and went back to your poker face. He takes a deep breath before he exhales painfully slow to sooth himself. You're pretty sure he's gone insane.

"It seems there's no use arguing against someone who doesn't listen" He'd speak but you chose not to say anything this time. Your absent of words irritating him bit by bit.

"I see. The common tactic of giving me the cold shoulder in an attempt to make me seem like I'm the idiot, well I hate to disappoint you but i will not easily fall for such trap" He said as he ends up crossing his arms with his chest slightly puffed out. His head facing the other way and his eyes shut from his pettiness.

It's bizarre how you're both the same age but he acts like such a kid compared to you. You sighed.

"Why do you even hate magic so much? Or just me in general. Do you have some sort of grudge?" You questioned and he opened his left eye to look at you, then his right eye. You could see his face relaxing slightly at your question.

"What makes you think I'd tell you?"

Ah what were you thinking... of course he wouldn't tell you...

"... fair point. Have a good day" You got up and ended leaving him there. Your powers helping you sense the disbelief he was experiencing at that moment.

Days passed by and each second that goes, you began to miss the realm you were originally from. Your family, your friends, they must be worried sick about you. Yet you're stuck in this world where you feel caged inside the sewers. There has to be a way to jump back into the realm of your home without triggering the system the space cops have set up.

You'd spend your time drawing out strategies and calculating the possibility of the chances of it succeeding. All of those plans written on plain paper you may or may not have stolen from Donnie's pile but oh well, it's not that you took that many anyways, besides he won't find out since you hide it under your pillow.

After countless tries, you still couldn't find the answer. The security is tight since those space cops are really out to get you. The thought of this being your new life really gives you the shivers. Just as you went in the kitchen to grab a drink, you were then approached by Raph.

"Hey (Y/N), you don't seem to be in good shape" He'd point out the frown on your face which you were quick to drop.

"Oh, that's nothing. Just still adjusting to this world. I haven't really gotten the chance to explore" You said before taking a sip of your drink.

"Well... in that case. How about you join us tonight for patrol?" He'd suggest. The offer so good that obviously you couldn't pass it up.

Which brings you on the rooftop with the four brothers. You had to admit it was nice to finally breath fresh air for once in this realm. The city seems so alive and although the tech isn't as advanced compared to where you're from, it still made the place look so fast paced and pretty. Is that a hotdog stand? You stood at the edge of the rooftop as you admired the streets, failing to notice Donnie who's been glaring at you since you've arrived.

"Alright boys.... and uh... girl. You get the drill!! Let's get this—" Sounds of a scream interrupted his words. All five of you duck to see a woman getting cornered by a gang of thugs in a dark alley.

"Oh no... we gotta help her!"

"Do not worry brother, for I have just the right tool—"

Before he could even finish talking, you have already jump down to the alley with the use of your telekinesis to help you land safely. You threw punches and kicks while simultaneously dodging the attacks thrown at you. Your moves catching the brothers off, each having a reaction of their own.

"Helllll yeahhh!! Save some for me!!" Leo said as he was quick to join you in the fight.

"Wait! Careful!" Raph following close by.

"Man! Who'd knew (Y/N) could fight like that?" Mikey was utterly astonished while Donnie who stands beside him had his teeth gritted out of annoyance.

"Yeaaah... who would have known...." His eyes sharp when examining all of your moves.

It didn't take long until all of the thugs were unconscious on the ground, you used your powers to tie them up with the rope that was conveniently nearby. The woman was safe and had managed to run away safely away from the danger. To avoid anyone from seeing you guys, you were all quick to leave. On the rooftop is where you celebrated your victory with them.

"That was awesome!! Up tops (Y/N)!!" He'd put his hand up and you were fast to high five him.

"What do you say we go celebrate this over some pizza?" Raph suggested which almost everyone went along with, all except Donnie.

Even back in the lair he was quiet. His expression blank like he doesn't seem happy about the pizza or anything. It peaked your interest almost instantly. That's why once the hangout was over and that everyone has gone to sleep, you felt awkward trailing behind him to his room. You could tell from his body language he had his guard up.

"Rough night?" You tried to start small talk with him. Something you didn't think you'd find yourself doing.

Even though he heard you, he still remained silent. This is starting to feel like karma for how you treated him all the time. You watched as he removes his armour to reveal his soft shell. Even though you'd normally just go to your side of the room, you couldn't bring yourself to walk away, you didn't know why but you felt involved with whatever it is he's dealing with right now.

"Is something wrong?" You questioned but he tried to ignore your presence by putting his equipments away.

"You're not your usual self... did something happen?" You asked and you could see his shoulders tense at your words.

"Hey I'm—"

"Just— Just stop!" He'd shout, suddenly turning around to look at you. His gaze deadly cold as he stares into your irises.

"You think you can just come into my life and try to take my spot?! All these countless years of building and inventing machines for my brothers, only for a fairy tale like YOU to pop out of nowhere!!" He'd say, putting out hand gestures to express his emotions.

You didn't say anything but listened with your eyes slightly wide. So this was how he felt about you...?

"It's not fair!! How is it that you can just do all these things with a flick of your wrist while I have to spend restless nights to even achieve that little?! You—!" He'd stop short, unable to finish as he takes a break to catch his breath.

You frown.

Ah you really feel like a terrible person right now... and it's not that you could control how you were birthed with your powers... but it was mostly because of the way you were pushing his buttons ever since you came. You joining their patrol tonight must have been the last straw.

"You're right. It's not fair" You'd utter and he stares at you, a bit taken aback from your sudden confession.

"It's not fair I get a head start compared to the rest... but that doesn't mean you can put out that anger at me! It's not my fault! Besides, you're clearly a smart dude and a very good brother from what I've seen. So why are you comparing yourself to me? It's like comparing a shark to an orca! It was never meant to be fair" You said. His eyes slowly trailing away like he was no longer able to look at you directly like he did before.

"I... sigh you're right... I'm... s—sorry" He muttered, his voice faint but you heard exactly what he was trying to say.

"Don't worry about it... I'm also sorry for the way I've treated you. Let's start over?" You asked, a slight smile on your face and he couldn't help but admit it was a good look on you.

"Yeah"

Ever since then, his behaviour around you seemed to change little by little. His questions seem to become less as he was now more attentive when listening to your answers. He'd also quit his weird staring habit... well just almost... he still stares at you but instead of looking so focused like you're a strange object, he looks at you with a more friendly expression.

His drastic change really got to you.

It was like a whole brand new person.

He began to act kind towards you. Even going as far as to offering to help with your strategy planning, it definitely threw you off guard when he told you he was willing to help. Obviously his constant yapping and disagreements are still there but they seem more playful compared to before. It was when you realised how he has made you laugh multiple times that you start to notice these feelings developing in you.

You almost hated yourself when you came to the conclusion you had fallen for the guy.

The same guy you could barely tolerate weeks ago.

The question now was that, did he feel the same for you? You could try reading his mind but would that be crossing the line? You'd be evading his privacy and that's the last thing you'd want to do. Inside the room where you laid on your bed, you couldn't help but think about these thoughts while also having your papers of plans scattered across you. How did all of these feelings even came from...?

"Well you're up early" He'd come in the room with a cup of coffee. You nearly jump at his voice.

"I'm early?" You chuckled, noting he was the one to be first out of bed.

"Jokes on you I didn't even sleep" He then placed his cup on his table before joining to examine your mess of papers.

"Now, shall we continue?" He asked to which you nodded.

It was hard to even focus being so close to him. Gosh you really are incapable of thinking now. You gulped, trying to remain calm. This was not you. You never act like this around anyone. All of this stressing made you zone out that Donnie took notice after realising you hadn't been listening to a thing he's been telling you.

"Hellllooooo? Have you used your telepathy to block me out? That's really typical" He'd say and it quickly took you back to the present.

"What?"

"What?" He laughs at your confused state. Ah this is giving you even more mixed signals...

"Sorry, just tired from waking up, let's continue" You said, trying to ignore what just happened, feeling as though you were slightly embarrassed.

"Nononoo, you've been constantly daydreaming everytime I talk to you. Something's up" He'd say.

Oh man some part of you wished he wasn't this observant.

"I guess... I'm just missing home...?" You lied, trying to excuse your behaviour. If he ever finds out you might just bury yourself.

"So you're homesick?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Don't worry, there's no shame to it, the sooner we solve this the sooner we get you home" He said confidently.

He then moved closer to you, his actions causing you to freeze. You were unsure what he was trying to do as he inches closer and closer to you.... just to get a pen? You were embarrassed the second he moved back to his spot. With the pen in hand he continued on writing. Ah that was awkward.

All this beating around the bush was driving you crazy.

"I figured it out!" Donnie exclaimed and it got your attention. You turn to him to look at his plan. It was a bit complicated but with the right timing it could work.

Then you wondered what will happen after you finally found a way home.

Are you just gonna simply leave?

"You don't look awfully happy about this. Is the joy too much that you're struggling to express it?" He grinned.

You sigh.

Now would be the best time.

"No I just... uhm... I have feelings for you?" You awkwardly confessed. Your words making the grin on his face drop.

"I'm saying it now so that if you reject me I can just simply go and we can pretend none of this happened" You tried to lighten up the mood with a weak smile but the shock on Donnie's face made you wonder if this was a bad idea.

Suddenly he was blushing.

You had to blink twice to make sure what you seeing was true.

"Ah... why'd you have to make it worse for me? I was trying to get rid of these feelings" He ran his hand across his face.

What?

"Do you not love me?" You asked and it made him panic.

"Nono! It's not that, it's that... how will I love you if you're never with me? You have a home and I realised it's not here" He frown.

Maybe, it was in the heat of the moment, but you suddenly had a solution to solve this problem.

A solution you would blindly do for love.

"Then I'll stay"

"Sta—stay?! You can't—"

"But I can. Those space cops are out to get me and as much as I miss my people, I'm afraid I could put them in danger if I head back. Maybe... I can stay a little longer?" You said and for a second he stares at you... but soon his eyes sparkles with gleam.

"You wanna stay with me?" You smiled at how awfully innocent he sounded when he asked.

"I guess you've grown on me"

"Well wow... haha... okay... um..." He stutters, struggling to even put the right words in the right order.

"Do you want to um... eat lunch... together? I assume that you're starving right now" He said, trying to play it off.

"Sure, will you be cooking my meal?" You joked which he was quick to return with a smile.

"I'm starting to think you're gonna be more of handful now that we're dating"

"Likewise"

[pikachu78109]

General Team Rainbow Rocket Headcanons

((I’ve been listening to some Team RR boss themes out of nostalgia and I have never written anything about the Pokémon villains (specifically Generation 1-6 respectively) and I figured I would shower my thoughts on these dudes))

Giovanni

Gonna start off with the one and only Giovanni. He’s a bit tricky to pinpoint, but as a Mafia inspired character, Giovanni works in the shadows. He doesn’t operate out in the open (I mean, obviously) and handles the more business side of things such as negotiations and elaborate planning. He doesn’t care about getting his hands dirty but don’t mistake him for being lazy or incapable of fighting.

As a villain, he’s the most put together. He’s a rational thinker and analyzes situations thoroughly. Not much of an optimist, but very opportunistic however it’s coupled with a hypothetical mindset. Giovanni never settles for one backup plan. He never bites off more than he can chew. He bides his time and attacks when the moment comes.

Obviously views himself highly and expects absolute respect. Has no tolerance for failure, like most other villains (except Archie) and punishes Grunts severely for any indiscretion.

Giovanni is aware of Maxie and Archie as they used to be part of Team Rocket in their early years. He has a low opinion of them, Archie especially for his goofy immaturity and lack of asserting his authority. Still, it does impress Giovanni that these two have managed to make a name for themselves as bosses.

Extremely patient. Giovanni can play the waiting game and he prefers it that way. He hates sloppiness and would rather surveillance his opponents before striking. He’s got eyes everywhere to ensure that no stone is left unturned.

Actually a decent father to Silver, but very much so a deadbeat. Not a lot of contact between the two. However, there were a few instances where they crossed paths but it’s usually brief and contains less pleasantries.

Maxie

Stereotypical nerd alert. Maxie is the epitome of the phrase “well, actually” and comes across as SUPER condescending. He thinks he’s doing people a favor by showering them with his logic and reasoning but really, at times, he’s speaking nonsense. He’s petty whenever Archie is around and does things that irk him, but between the two, Maxie does seem more mature albeit condescendingly. Hell, I’ll just say he’s condescending.

Long standing rivalry with Archie. It’s an amalgamation of being petty, competitive, and all round, goofy. On the outside, the other villains don’t take these two seriously. However, by himself, Maxie is actually calm and low key, so to an extent, he’s favored a bit more than Archie. Still, it doesn’t discredit the fact that this nerd has beef with a wannabe pirate over the expansion of landmass vs water.

Motive wise, the rest of the villains see Maxie and Archie’s motivations as idiotic. Biggest facepalm in motion.

Secretly admires Cyrus but at the same time developed a jealousy towards him. Maxie admires Cyrus’ technical abilities, his masterwork tinkering with machinery, and the like, but harbors resentment that he himself struggles with reaching that level of success and skill.

Archie

Loud, proud, and all round ruthless, this pirate has no qualms in throwing down. Very loose and probably the least threatening boss, Archie embraces the pirate life and shows no real strictness in his methods. He gives everything he has in battle and doesn’t have a serious persona like the other RR members, hence why nobody takes him seriously.

Again, he has beef with Maxie as mentioned prior. Archie thinks Maxie is too uptight about everything and needs to loosen up. Highly competitive (especially with Maxie) so Archie is willing to take on his counterpart any time or day.

Probably the friendliest villain in the Pokémon main line series. He’s approachable and has that chill uncle vibe.

He does the most reckless things out of the group. It doesn’t matter what it is. Archie will do some random things, no matter if he ends up getting hurt. He’s sturdy, he can handle anything.

Cyrus

Cyrus is a shut in, a recluse so to speak. He hates engaging with others and doesn’t like to be bothered. He only comes out of his room when he’s has to, but only related to Team RR business.

A quiet man. Rarely speaks but isn’t shy in throwing in his two cents. Can easily clap back an argument with a couple of sentences effortlessly (he’s good with his words) and uses vocabulary that makes Archie scratch his head.

Doesn’t take much for Cyrus to kill the mood. Hell, just his presence alone dies whatever mood everyone’s feeling down by an inch.

Probably one of the few villains that contemplates their actions (Maxie and Archie being in the same camp). He doesn’t regret his actions, but finds himself wondering if something else had occurred how would the outcome change? It’s clear that he gets on fine with your Rotom-Dex, so there is some soft side to this ice cold, stone faced man.

Aside from Ghetsis, the other RR bosses kind of show some level of genuine concern for Cyrus. Like, man, are you okay? Cyrus doesn’t get hounded mainly for the fact that there’s quite literally nothing to bully him for. He’s silent most of the time and, to put it simply, nihilistic (or depressed in some cases). He’s hard to relate to, but that doesn’t mean that the other RR bosses (except Ghetsis) don’t check up on him. Look, they may be evil bastards, but they don’t mess around when it comes to mental health (except Ghetsis; he can go fuck himself).

Ghetsis

A complete madman in the flesh. Ghetsis is an unstable man and let me say that no one approaches Ghetsis unless they have a death wish. The man’s only best friend is manipulation and that’s all he does. Fortunately, Giovanni is aware of this and uses simple yet effective intimidation tactics to unnerve Ghetsis.

Every Team RR Grunt fears Ghetsis. Enough said.

I completely support the theory about Ghetsis and his Hydreigon attacking him. It fits given that his Hydreigon knows the move Frustration (an attack that increases the more the Pokémon dislikes its Trainer) and has used said move on Ghetsis, causing near fatal injuries.

Linking with the prior point, Ghetsis’ right arm was torn off (by Hydreigon) and replaced with a prosthetic, same with his right eye. There are scars all over his torso and legs. He has some mobility issues but can get by okay without any assistance. He wears cloaks to cover every inch of his body to appear bigger, but in actuality, he’s quite scrawny.

Ghetsis tried, at one point, to manipulate each of the RR bosses. Almost worked on Archie (bc Archie is somewhat gullible) whereas Lysandre and Cyrus knew immediately what cyclops was putting down. Maxie kind of just didn’t care.

Inserts himself way. too. much. Ghetsis cannot stand being pushed aside and prefers to be the center of attention. Dramatic, yes, but I can only imagine that if the conversation doesn’t involve Ghetsis, he’ll make damn sure that it makes it back to him, revenant or not. He’s a narcissist trying to dominant, but Giovanni isn’t having it.

No one knows why Ghetsis appears and acts so cruelly. Some say he was just born to be evil while others pin a complex backstory. It’s been theorized that Ghetsis has an ancient linage; his ancestors ruling over Unova, the Abyssal Ruins being a towering fortress that, for the longest time, ruled with power and swath of knowledge and wisdom. Over time, the ruins sank to the bottom of the ocean, taking the last remnants of the Harmonia name with it, leaving behind Ghetsis to carry on that legacy many years later. Of course, Ghetsis perverts the family name by asserting his own sinister misdeeds, pushing his warped philosophy onto others, like N, with manipulation. The God complex he forms has consumed him to the point where he can barely distinguish reality apart from his own twisted fantasy.

Says some batshit insane things that no one can comprehend. Don’t bother arguing with him; he cannot be reasoned.

Lysandre

This man hides his insanity very well. He carries himself with confidence and pride, so you would never suspect this man having committed regional (or global) genocide.

Has a way with words, similar to Cyrus. He can talk his way out of situations with little to no effort as he’s both eloquent and charming.

Quite favorable with Giovanni and possibly with Cyrus.

Can never tell what he’s thinking. You don’t know if he’s joking or if he’s being serious. It’s a constant coin toss and he’ll keep you on your toes. He finds this trait about himself amusing while others, like Ghetsis and Archie, find it annoying.

Despite how insane and deeply twisted his actions are, Lysandre actually used to be a genuine human being. At some point in his early life, he tried to be giving and helping towards his community and all of Kalos, which did help improve the quality of life in the region. But, over time, the constant pressure of trying to solve every problem has left Lysandre empty and exhausted. He has kept trying to find an excuse to continue his good efforts, but every time it yielded the same results, the same cycle. People take advantage of kindness, people fight and bicker over generosity, and people demand more. Lysandre just… burnt out. He got tired and grew to resent humanity’s unwillingness to accept and appreciate what was being given to them, ruining the beauty of the world by perverting the generosity to match their own needs and desires. It disgusted Lysandre, hence why he chose the destructive path that he did. What other choice he did have?

Can be sincere at times. When he says something positive, he means it.