#sketching my hatred beloved

[zeesdoodlesnshit]

So... My brother told me that Jax and Deadpool were kinda similar then I was like "Nuh-uh" but then when I drew him, it became a habit

JAXPOOL!!! Feat. My gayass sona again

Jax and I are 💅✨Besties✨💅

[conejitocelestial444]

Drawing my favorite characters starting off with the beta kids uwu

•

I cant believe i haven’t drawn the four of them all together. They all make me very happy T_T

~enjoy~

john has 0 drip everyone else is cool 😎 maybe i should have given him a clown nose? Maybe i should draw him as a clown hehehe

[missshirophantom]

Yandere Alphabet Sebastian Solace

From the author: hello everyone. I apologize for the abrupt disappearance after the first posts. There was a lot of shit going on in real life. And now especially, especially when I almost had a panic attack. This post... a small attempt to somehow cope with all the emotional problems. Ahem, I apologize for the mistakes, because English is not my native language and I used a translator. Yes, and I just got over it now... Tears, that's it. If I feel better (and a positive reaction will be enough), then I will write a small sketch using this post.

Warning: dr#g use without consent, threat of broken bones, threat of bondage, slight isolation, hint of c#nnib#lism. If you are for the fact that yandere Sebastian is gentle or dark, then you are absolutely not here. The author does not approve of the above written in real life.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

— Due to so many years of literal torture and DNA implantation, Sebastian has forgotten how to show love and affection. At least, that's what many people imagine.

— Thanks to vague memories of his past, he often gives "gifts". These are usually very rare deceased marine life that he found while exploring the complex. Most often, he drags soft objects such as pillows and blankets to another person.

— It is worth considering that he will often be... Biting his beloved is not strong, of course, but deep enough and in prominent places so that the bite mark remains as long as possible.

— In rare moments, Sebastian can clamp his beloved with his tail and hands, preventing them from moving. Such moments last quite a long time — from several hours to even days. But don't be afraid, he will feed you.

— About feeding... Sometimes Sebastian intentionally brings dead marine life and forces the beloved to eat them raw, saying that he did not find a normal meal for you, and that's all he found, and there is no necessary equipment to cook.

— And I. Don't even think about giving up this "meal", because he can get very angry at you the longer and more persistently you refuse.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

— This case can be described as follows: rarely, but aptly.

— Sebastian hates people, especially getting dirty in their blood. But when the threat is directed either at him, or at the beloved, or at his refuge, then... Yes. It's better not to see it. In particular, you don't need to know where that poor guy's body goes next.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

— Despite his hatred of people, which he skillfully hides by contacting them in his store, especially if you are a person yourself, but in moments of his bad mood, Sebastian can mock you. Especially when you are trying to escape or are somehow stubborn, protesting against his actions and the like.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

— It all depends on how his beloved behaves. If they try to escape more than once, he will give them a "medicine" in order to keep them in a sluggish and weakened state in the shelter.

— Well, he also locks them in a shelter while he goes out to get supplies. For good behavior, they may not even tie you up and tie you to the railing of the stairs.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

— It's not much... It is difficult, especially when Sebastian vaguely remembers his life before his arrest and experiments.

— But if he is in a good mood, he can talk about his past. Especially about his cat, whom he misses.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

— Definitely an annoyance. And the stronger and longer the beloved resists, the stronger his irritation, turning into anger.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

— Sebastian does not consider this a game, even though he finds it funny to watch the escape attempts of the beloved and their plans for this. But still, he is serious that even for the sake of his "fun" he does not allow another to escape.

— So, yes. the DNA of the same white shark, which awakens in him the instincts of pleasure over the attempts of another to escape.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

— Oh, definitely quite strong and a decent dose of "medicine" if the beloved misbehaves for too long. Sebastian rarely uses physical punishments. Except when he is very, very driven. Then he will definitely break a couple of bones in his legs.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

— Sebastian just doesn't know. The arrest and experiments forced him to think about the present, not the future. Especially when there is a looming danger over him because of his mutations. And not only that.

— But somewhere in the tender moments with his beloved, he definitely thought about having a family with them. And also a safe place where they both don't need anything and no one bothers them.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

— As long as the other person does not speak directly and flirt, or God forbid, does not try to touch the other, then Sebastian is ready to be patient. And if any of this happens, he immediately throws this person out of his store and forbids him to come back. Believe me, this is the mildest thing he can do in bouts of jealousy.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

— Believe it or not, but it's pretty good, let it depend on the mood. Sebastian definitely likes to hold his beloved with his tail and sleep in this position, curled up in the "nest". Bite them, thereby marking them. As it was written above, he gives, albeit sometimes gloomy gifts: dead marine life, someone's bones. But it's definitely nice to get the same pillows and blankets from him. On particularly "lucky" days, he may even bring some simple puzzles, blank paper, and writing supplies. Or even the clean clothes of the employees! And also, as it was written, he definitely likes to watch the beloved eat the food he brought.

— However, do not try to annoy him in any way or, God forbid, make him angry. And even if nothing serious happens for the first time, it's better not to push your luck.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

— He will definitely compose a little poetry and read it to you. But mostly his love language, if you can call it that, is gifts, not particularly frequent physical contact, as well as... preening when Sebastian's mood is definitely high. He likes to mess with the hair of his beloved, untangling tangles with his claws and cleaning them from dirt. But it's definitely somehow caused by injected DNA and getting some instincts. Well, Sebastian can also be a good gentleman.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

— Yes. Quite a lot if you continue to test his patience.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

— It varies depending on how much his patience is exhausted. If he speaks from the most harmless to severe punishment, then it goes something like this: stronger and deeper bites that leave a scar; short-term deprivation of food; small doses of "medicine"; medium doses; a large dose; broken bones, usually legs.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

— Freedom, defined. Sebastian will definitely lock the beloved in the shelter while he goes on business. But even without that, he still has no intention of letting them out of his sight, especially when they are not the first to try to escape or behave badly.

— It will also definitely monitor your meals with extreme care and sleep patterns.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

— Surprisingly, he is quite patient. But even such patience has its limits.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

— Sebastian will refuse to believe that their beloved has died. By that time, he will have time to get very attached and it will be a blow to him. So be prepared for the fact that he will simply lose the remnants of his humanity and will babysit your body by locking himself in a shelter.

— Well, if it's an escape... It won't be difficult for him to find you. He knows this place like his own... "Five" fingers. Plus, his senses are highly developed, as are his newfound instincts.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

— Definitely not for both questions. And even if Sebastian hated people and if you are a person yourself, he will not let you go.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

— After the accusation that he did not commit, years of experimentation on him, torture, as well as the loss of some memories, you evoke in him... Something really different and new, amidst all this hatred and irritation. This feeling made him relax a little, feel the warmth in his chest and just made his barely controlled instincts calm down.

— You can say that he is really curious. Plus... Years of loneliness in this cruel situation are making themselves felt.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

— Definitely a confusion. Why do you want to come back at all? There, on the surface, you will find a much more cruel world than here, next to it. Yes, the conditions here are not so good, but it is much better than sitting behind bars in a dirty cell or, God forbid, being a test subject of these disgusting people.

— Despite the confusion, Sebastian understands these feelings. But he definitely didn't want to watch the situation worsen. He will definitely give you "medicines" to let you forget, but he will not work hard with it. After all, Sebastian does not want to be like the people who conducted experiments on him.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

— Not really.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

— It's definitely that Sebastian has become a monster, without a shred of humanity. Despite everything, he still misses the time when he was human, and these words will infuriate him. Plus, the same flashlight or flash in sensitive eyes. This disorients him for a few seconds.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

— Mentally? Not much. Physically? Quite a lot, and it depends on how much you've exhausted his patience.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

— It depends on a lot of things. From the time you are with him, situations have occurred, especially those related to your life. The longer you stay with him and the more situations there are related to your life, the more he will begin to take care of you. But as for the conquest, this is another story and much longer, because Sebastian lost that normal part of himself, acting on the basis of instincts and vague memories.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

— It depends on the situation.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

— Oh, Sebastian, which is a little surprising, will try to prevent this. He doesn't want a man like you to become even a little bit like him.

[fridaysmind]

Vicious angel

Sentinel x Megatronus (Hot NSFW)

This sketch is drawn by my friend @missiva12 , please admire her works. Tags: !size kink, praise kink!

The majestic beings, created in the image of God, towered above him, each one of them. He felt a trifle small in himself, and being directly next to them felt as if he were halved even further. It seemed to the Sentinel that everything could be tweaked without overreaching. That the feeling would go away if he kept himself busy, if he worked with the Primes, if he became part of their inner circle. That's when they'd stop seeming repulsive.

But it wasn't like that…

The closer he got, getting more and more personal proxies, the more he was invited to meetings or free events, the more he was ready to scrub his tanks of disgust. Their voices are unnecessarily annoying. Someone's one of their palms presses against his shoulder and squeezes too hard. Someone smells vilely of expensive liquor, but he smiles and laughs with them.

The Sentinel is taught over and over again, he misdistributed the data, he got in the wrong rack, he is asked for the quality of the weapon, even though it is not even his job! The news feeds are once again dotted with headlines about the unrivaled strategy of these great guys, glossing over his existence when the whole tactic was his idea!

Not enough. It's never enough. And in place of the burning hatred, he was strangled by the desire to praise again. Praise tugged at the strings of his spark, especially his praise, the strongest of the Primes, evoked strange mixed feelings that made him want to reach for it again. And the Sentinel was reaching for it.

His frame ached terribly from work and training, more pleasure in staring at his reflection in the training room than twirling his weapon, but once again Sentinel didn't choose. A supine position would relieve the discomfort, but the difficulty lay in the weight of another mech on his back, pressing his breastplates against the long conference table.

«I don't want to pretend not to notice, my friend.» Megatronus' strong palms slid around the curve of another's waist.

«I know you are young, but I do not consider you foolish or ignorant, all instruction is only for the better, for each of us can see that you are capable of more.»

It was an accident to find himself in such a situation. First there had been the conversation with the overworked Prime in the night, then the careless words of annoyance that had come out of Sentinel's vocolizer, and the dialog that had soon turned into clamping down on the smaller mech's figure. He wanted to refuse, was already ready to say something, but Prime gave such a light and reverent compliment to his work that it made him hesitate a little. Of course, another reason this purple bastard was so beloved by the populace, he knew exactly what to say and when to say it. Then another, then another and here was Sentinel, in a completely empty office except for them, pressed against a flat surface and venting noisily at the gentle touches.

«You don't mind? You've worked hard over and over again, definitely deserve a good rest and knowing you, you're more than able to handle…our slight height difference.» he laughs. Of course, it's easy for him to say. But Sentinel really deserves all the attention he can get, doesn't he? And he's capable of enduring almost anything Prime has prepared for him. No one could handle any of the tasks better than him.

Megatronus' palm presses against the interface panel and, covering the entire area with a single manipulator, presses down, rubbing the already heated metal, causing the counsellor to whimper quietly. The plate pressing against the protoform smears the moisture inside in a thin layer and it causes a slamming wave of shame. Just a couple words of praise from him and Sentinel is in such a shameful state. The thought of opening up and showing his feelings is embarrassing and distasteful. A crumb of sanity has returned to him and, withdrawing his manipulator behind his back, the mech wraps his fingers around the others limb, wanting to get up, to end this misunderstanding, but the masked faceplate presses against the back of his helmet.

«You're doing great, its fine, don't worry, I promise I'll take care of you» Sentinel exhaled deeply at the affectionate voice over the audiosensors, his frame instantly relaxed and his fingers unclenched. Again the slight prick inside spark, a sense of rightness, of comfort.

Dimming the optics slightly, Sentinel feels the panel press with more force and it moves aside on its own. Warm metal slid between the slippery servos, a chuckle of irritation from Prime, and the dentoplates clenched only briefly before wet fingers slid into place and the unaccustomed frame began to wriggle. The left manipulator gently pressed the mech tighter against the table. Scooping sticky moisture onto the fingers of the second manipulator, Megatronus gently pressed one into the port. The finger slides in without much obstruction, but the inside is still hot and so tight just for the finger. The tip of the spike rests painfully against his own plates, the desire to be fully inside burning his gut.

There was a click and the sound of an interface panel being pushed back from behind the counsellor, the heated metal touching the open port, sliding between the servos, gaining moisture and pressing its against the bellyplates. Following his curiosity, Sentinel lifted up, looking down between his servos. His optics widened, no, nope, that won't go in, this fragger is huge. Sentinel felt a chill of worry run down the back of his helmet, the blue frame barely flinched, but Prime ran his free palm over the mech, whispering soothing words again.

«It's okay little one, it'll fit you, I'll make you ready.» Megatronus' entire attention is focused only on Sentinel and the latter likes it. He wants to stay just so it doesn't stop, lying in the barely lit cold blue room, with a nice weight on his back and the sounds of systems working behind him.

In a very short time, the walls of the port were already being stretched by three thick fingers, sliding in and out with a sinful squelch. Sentinel vents noisily in response to each movement, not allowing himself to let out a groan at such a simple caress, his not a budding academy student. The port stings slightly, but it is a pleasant feeling, incomparable to anything else. Mech prefers to believe that Prime is here to bring him pleasure, that this is how it should be, these misunderstandings should thank him for all he puts up with, should worship the efficiency and beauty of their counsellor. Megatronus swiped his manipulator across Sentinel thigh, grabbing servo's and lifting it up. Standing like this would be uncomfortable, but long training and stretching had helped noticeably.

Fingers slipped out of the port, a couple strands of lubricant trailing behind them, the now freed palm placed on the curve of waist, as the tip of the spike pressed against the entrance, wiping away a drop of pre-transfluid. Prime gently rubs circles into the Sentinels frame as it enters inch by inch into the prepared but still tight port. The stretching of the walls causes the blue mech to hiss and reach forward with his hands over the surface.

«Shh, it's okay, you're doing great. Remember the breathing practices? Inhale deeply, exhale and relax, you can take it, baby, you can do it.» his voice is velvety, so polite for his height and size. Annoying. Self-confident, huh? Another cocky…but Sentinel follows the advice, exhales, concentrates on relaxing, feels the thick metal filling him in a way he didn't know before, but seems to unconsciously need all his assets. The bumps and bulging segments hit the sensitive wires perfectly, and along with the discomfort comes the pleasure that makes his lips form a circle and a whimpering moan erupts from the energon receiver.

The Sentinel's port is almost suffocating in its narrowness, soft and pliable, it perfectly accepts whatever is given to it, the tip sliding further and deeper, eventually resting against the reservoir. Megatronus looks down, his spike barely halfway in. Good boy.

The counsellor breathes even deeper, clenching his palms into fists and biting his lip to the point of pain. Good, so good, would it be better when he started to move? The answer didn't take long, wiggling his hips slightly, Prime began to gently withdraw so that he could enter again. The sound of joined hips accompanied the shriek and Sentinel instantly covered himself with his manipulators, blocking the path of his voice. The tempo of the thrusts continued to increase, intoxicated by the stretching, he whimpered and moaned, over and over.

«So beautiful and strong, you are unsurpassed, my dear Sentinel, so heavenly» Prime squeezes the base of his spike as tightly as the rest of it is squeezed by crotch. He slides his hand back and forth in time with his hips over the part of the metal that can't go inside due to the limitations of their little counsellor. The wings in front of him are like a magnet, but his hands are busy and he can only stare longingly at their tantalizing twitches.

He's cute. Spicy and cute. Sentinel's scowl and cheeky bottom-up stare made him even more endearing at times, each of the Thirteen agreed with a chuckle. Lucky to get him first, thanks Primus. Lowering the blue servo he'd raised, Megatronus hugged the mech's pelvis and began sliding circles around the most sensitive part of the protoform, causing the hips to twitch and the walls of the port to contract around him. Owning manipulators at the faceplate doesn't help Sentinel be quieter and it's even cuter. Maybe others will hear, find out who got to their mutual favorite and lose their reloads in envy. Yeah, maybe.

The smaller mech rides the slippery caresses on the table, unable to think of anything but the pleasantly cold surface beneath him and the fire between his lower pair of limbs. Full and hot and so good. The quick, rough thrusts make him rub his cheek against a small puddle of his own saliva. The charge of arousal builds rapidly, like a knot tying at the bottom of his abdominal plates, Sentinel presses closer to the caressing fingers, begging not to stop, not thinking about how it sounds, wanting only to feel the release, long-awaited and desired. Just a couple of presses and he collapses, the reboot seeming to come over him in a wave, his legs shaking uncontrollably and his thighs clenching.

As the mech sprawled on the table with muted optics and fluttering port, Megatronus wrapped his large palms around the Sentinel's slender waist and squeezed around it, accelerating his thrusts to as fast and short as possible, with a sigh of pleasure, releasing jets of transfluid inside. Even after rebooting, he didn't want to come out, this port felt right, as if its frame had been restrained by God specifically for this purpose, hes so perfect.

But it is impossible to be inside this wonderful creature for the rest of eternity, so with a slight movement, the spike unwillingly slipped out of the warm mech with a wet squelch. Stepping back a step or two, Megatronus inspected his work with pride. The still stretched crotch clenched around the hollow, the protoform twitching and their mixed fluids flowing down the inside of thighs, golden wings shimmering in the light of the blue diodes on the wall, beckoning again. How pretty…

Leaving him to cool down and rest a bit, Prime walks over to a small sink, and wets a clean rag from a large pile. After tidying himself up, he closes the panels, picks up a new rag, and walks over to the recovering mech.

«Hi again, am I overdoing it?» Sentinel had no words or thoughts in response, everything in his processor blended into a homogeneous mass. He just mumbled something and jammed his faceplate back into the table. There was a hearty chuckle from Prime's side.

"Oh, I beg to differ," stepping closer, the tall mech flipped the figure onto his back and sat him on the table. "but it's more comfortable this way."

The soft cloth gently stroked Sentinels cheek, wiping first the faceplate, then the mech quite unexpectedly slowly knelt down and pulled apart the still twitching servos, causing Sentinel to come to his senses rather quickly. The sight of giant standing like that made the metal heat up again, but there was no more strength left. Meanwhile, the cloth collected the droplets, lines of streaks, and rubbed the sticky thighs with gentle actions. When the purple arm pulled back, the Sentinel's panel slammed shut.

They sat in silence for a while, one staring at his wrists, the other, still kneeling, gazing with blue optics at the features of the faceplate opposite, until he stood up and reached for mech. Slipping his manipulators under shoulders, Megatronus lifted the nearly weightless body and pressed it against his breastplates, holding his back with a hand. His counsellors faceplate expressed complete surprise, to say the least. He didn't seem to have expected such an action from Prime.

Not only did he not expect it, but he was almost furious. What insolence, to hold him in arms like a child or an invalid, this in the spirit of their fragger company!

"Don't look at me like that, my friend, I've tired you enough already, it's up to me to take care of you and bring you to the platform." Megatronus' voice, deep, quiet and poised, echoes off the walls of the palace's corridors, soothing and as if putting him into a trance. Optics fading again, Sentinel snuggles the side of his helmet closer to Prime's frame, sinking into a recharging embrace. Satisfied and smiling beneath his mask, Megatronus runs the fingertips of his second manipulator over the lovely wings and carries hes little prince to personal quarta.

He didn't clean up the drips and streaks on the floor and table, maybe too tired for that and left the job to the janitors. Or maybe he wanted to leave the traces of his little victory for others to see.

(If you like long posts or prefer short posts, please share with me)

[falsemilkbun]

I have so many feelings about this sad dusty little pigeon. God. Let me count the ways. This isn't Smart Meta, I have been doing too much tourist season work to be smart. All this is is aaaaa wife! ;~;

Like, that these are images of the same person and there's a continuity between them is so good and tasty and important. To me.

ETA: William this literally spoils the ending GTFO

I think a lot about how there's this throughline of palatability and consumability with Mithrun, so to speak. He spends his younger days making himself palatable and bubbly and friendly and perfect for everyone around him, all the while being a bundle of resentment and inferiority under that surface presentation.

And it works, he's beloved by everybody but Milsiril, who is more demonstrative about her negative feelings and finds his chipperness and sociability unsettling and annoying. She only starts to feel for him when she sees the dungeon he's built, because it's the first real exterior manifestation of his pain that's been revealed to her. And his inferiority is pain; his status and the fact he's loved at all is so intensely tied to his appearance and his presentation, and by that token it's completely conditional and he knows that. His greatest desire was a reality in which he could trust no one would (one assumes just emotonally) hurt him.

His drive is to be loved safely and completely, and it's ultimately a self-destructive drive that doesn't disappear when his desire and motivation are taken from him. What he wants, which isn't apparent to him for some time, is to be completely consumed. He wants to not have been discarded.

Like, there's definitely rage with his demon obsession. He is angry, but it's more complicated than simple anger at what was done to him. The parts where he's angry are sandwiched between parts where he's expressing all this insecurity, all this yearning to be fully consumed and fully loved. The fact that he wasn't makes him think of and describe himself as literal garbage.

So much of his scary forward momentum comes from what amounts to heartbreak and self-hatred. He was smothering in pressure and inferiority, and that made him vulnerable to someonething that offered him an escape only to gradually and then suddenly eat him alive. That maimed and disabled him, that purposely stripped him of the features that people valued him for. That ate the Good Parts and left the rest, which is most of him.

I don't know. Except I do. This is kind of a doodle/sketch of a smarter meta post I want to do eventually.

They're the same. There's continuity. To me. That feels important. I don't jibe with thinking of them as distinct, or with the idea that what happened fixed or matured him somehow. He's in the exact same kind of pain the whole time, it just depends whether he registers it or not.

And of course my pairing agenda is involved, because Kabru is kind and patient with him and ties stupid little bows in his clothes and doesn't really ask anything of him. And doesn't believe he's incapable of sleeping with magic or drugs. And doesn't believe he's incapable of feeling or growing or living a worthwhile life. Kabru doesn't believe he's garbage.

[katerinaaqu]

Gullible Clytemnestra

And the sketches go on with yet another woman of Greek Mythology, Clytemnestra! A really complicated and deeply hurt and also deeply hurtful character! Clyrtemnestra who lost herself in rage and madness after the death of her beloved Iphigenia, her first born daughter (or her elleged death depending on the source) got into an affair with a man that shared her hatred, Aegisthus, and eventually murdered her husband

For her design I traced a screenshot from the movie "Black Swan" specifically when the protagonist, Nina, succumbs to her dark side and madness. For her makeup I was of course inspired by Mycenaean makeup and images For her hair I aimed for a slightly darker tone but my colored pencils are garbage so yeah! Hahahahahaha! And I am not a good artist as well! XD Of course blood on her cheek inspired by Aeschylus Oresteia and the play "Agamemnon" where Clytemnestra claims how the blood of her husband splattered her face.

Other Homeric Character designs:

Diomedes

Odysseus

Calypso

Patroclus

Antilochus

Achilles

Neoptolemous

Penelope

Helen

[mothmans-left-buttcheek]

The Bitch, the Witch, and the Star

Jay Mocking x Allie Perea x Nova James

Inspired by @eddiemunson-reader-shame and @floredaqueen FOLLOW THEM OH MY GOD!!

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary- Fresh out of school in the summer of 85. Allie Perea and Jay Mocking are enjoying the cold delights served at Scoops A’hoy until Nova James shakes up their evening.

Warnings: profanity, references to sex, a bisexual disaster, this is basically just fluff with cursing and friendly bullying

Playlist: Rio by Duran Duran, Walk This Way by Aerosmith, Cheri Cheri Lady by Modern Talking

A/N: So I’ve been engaging in fanfics for years but rarely writing my own since I’m mostly inspired by original characters, so this is a scene with two of my favorite Stranger Things oc’s including my own because I am simply self indulgent lol. Basically I thought “what if I threw three girls in love with Eddie Munson in a room” and this was the result. I’ve done my best to interpret the characters with the information I could find while also manipulating some information for the sake of timeframe, I apologize if anything is out of character!

The artwork above is just a sketch I made while letting the fic cook, it's not great, I'm more a writer than an artist, but I hope y'all like it. There’s also songs I’ve associated with certain moments in the fic, feel free to give them a listen.

(Listen to “Rio”, Duran Duran)

There wasn’t anything to do in Hawkins Indiana. Sure there were record stores and vintage diners along the main strip downtown, but those industries were carried on by traditional residents alone. There wasn’t anything charming about Hawkins, it was just your run of the mill middle of nowhere Midwestern town. Until the Starcourt mall.

The newest edition to the smallest town in the Midwest was a hit amongst locals. Normally your selections for an evening out were slim to none, you’d have to drive hours away for the best date nights. But the Starcourt Mall was a shining beacon to the people of Hawkins, a tower of neon lights that sang a song of genuine entertainment. Shaky escalators, iconic chain clothing stores, a food court fumigating with grease, and a cozy movie theater to boot Hawk theater out of business.

It had everything to appeal to anyone from a rambunctious teen to a generous grandparent, the glow of the sun coming in from the glass ceiling more than just a natural light source. It was the light of hope for social lives all across town. Not to mention the impact it had on the economy. Hundreds of new jobs opened up to the ambitious folks in Hawkins with the promise of decent salary. Many people left their jobs at their local mom-and-pop-shops, so the town lost some of its historic charm with the modern mall, but with all the beloved structure had to offer it was difficult to find real fault in Starcourt. There was a Jazzercise studio, a gaming arcade, Sears. With no competition for miles, Starcourt Mall ruled Hawkins Indiana the summer of ’85.

(Listen to “Walk This Way”, Aerosmith)

“Where’d you get that record?” Allie asked.

She lounged casually in the plush seats in Scoops A’hoy, the slightly sticky leather clinging to the dense fabric of her brown carhartt jacket. Select patches adorned the piece, their rough texture matching with the slightly worn out graphic of her Van Halen shirt. Allie’s stare was buffered by square glasses, her round brown eyes flickering across the table with growing judgment. Full cheeks which would look lovely in a smile only adding to her youthful appearance while her full lips pulled into an unamused frown. A hint of pink in her tawny skin accented by the dark birthmarks under her eye. Her brown hair tickled her shoulders with a volume brought on by messy waves.

Allie Perea was rarely seen without a displeased stare, could’ve been caused by her tumultuous family or could’ve been caused by her fresh seeded hatred for Hawkins. She’d moved in less than a year ago, yet within her first day she had marked herself as a basket case amongst her fellow classmates. The bucket of insults she had collected filtered out to one title she did her best to wear proudly, “The Bitch of Hawkins High.” She possessed an off-putting attitude ready for someone to have a problem with her and an unwillingness to be social, which made her seat in a social setting like Starcourt Mall unusual. In truth Allie stared at the girl across the sugar stained table, a shadow looming in the bright colored shop.

Brown hooded eyes stared back at her framed by thick black eye makeup, black hair teased to high heaven like a rain cloud around her head. Her upturned nose sported a septum ring and her tall cheekbones were painted with unnaturally sharp black contour, it washed out her pale skin to a sickly ivory. A Siouxsie and the Banshees shirt cut off her shoulders while fishnet gloves crawled up her arms to meet the short sleeves. She had thin lips painted in a deep red with an oval birthmark dotted just under the left of her lip.

Janice, Jay, Mocking had practically grown up in Hawkins. She memorized every store to street corner, remembered all the awkward stages of the preps and jocks that mocked her, and knew every hypocrite that attended Sunday service in the church her parents pastored. In middle school her odd tendencies were mostly glossed over thanks to the authority her parents had in the community, but she lost her safety when her childhood sketches of graveyards and growing taxidermy collections got out. Her outcast shift was welcomed by her peers with a series of rude and ironic insults, and despite all the bird puns made from her name “The Hawkins Witch” was the name that stuck the most.

So it was appropriate for the bitch and the witch to grow a relationship that benefited the both of them. Allie had someone to help her navigate and Jay could be weird without being alone. Getting to know Starcourt mall had become their pastime, so despite their antisocial tendencies the two enjoyed getting complimented by strangers or berated by their school nemesis in a building with more escape routes.

Jay had let Allie’s question hang in the air, the two giving matching deadpanned stares while Scoops A’hoy bustled around them. After a slow deliberate blink Jay eventually answered, “Sam Goody’s.”

A lick of shame twisted her tongue, and Allie caught it.

“Sam Goody’s? Isn’t that a chain store? Weren’t you bashing chain stores last week?.” Allie accused.

Jay rolled her eyes back and pulled the vinyl into her lap, “look, Tears for Fears came out with a new album and I’ve been dying to-“

“Tears for Fears?” Allie interrupted.

Jay stifled just for a moment, unsure if she misspoke, “yes? Tears for Fears, Songs from the Big Chair?”

The girl across from her adjusted her glasses and brushed her hair back.

“What happened to all the punk ideologies you were preaching last week? Not going to chain stores or feeding the industry and shit?”

“The album came out months ago and Music Mania downtown still doesn’t have any copies, one little Sam Goody’s run isn’t gonna hurt anyone,” Jay defended herself with a near perfect cadence. Like this was an argument she had rehearsed in her head.

“I’m just surprised you’re breaking your ‘goth principles’ over Tears For Fears.”

“Bitch, you listen to Phil Collins.”

“I do, oh I do, proudly in fact. But I’m not busting my balls adhering to rules of my subculture, and then breaking said rules for a pop group.”

“They’re pop-rock! You know what- forget it, I’m not taking shit from a ‘metalhead’ that listens to Prince.”

Allie slowly shook her head while maintaining eye contact, “... says the hypocrite.”

“Yeah?” Jay answered while raising her brows and cocking her head to the side.

“Well you’re a try hard.”

Allie crossed her arms, “you’re a poser-”

“You’re a virgin,” Jay interjected while slightly lunging over the table. The two were locked in a stare down for a long passage of silence.

“… do you wanna split a sundae?” Allie asked suddenly.

Jay’s eyes flickered to the table as she contemplated with a hum before she looked back up at Allie with a shrug, “butterscotch?”

She grimaced and groaned to disagree, “grody.”

Jay sighed in disappointment, turning her head to look back at the menu and consider their options. Just as she did so she was hit with a whiff of sweet perfume and a flash of baby blue in her vision. She felt her stomach drop just for a moment as she recognized the form walking up to the register.

(Listen to “Cheri Cheri Lady”, Modern Talking)

If mermaids were real she would be a siren. Warm skin shining rose gold in the light, plump round lips painted with delicate gloss, and deep doe eyes with lushes lashes fluttering with mischief. Her maple brown hair was long and rich in volume, curled to perfection while her bangs floated gently over her forehead. One birthmark kissed her left side just under her lip and another sat comfortably under her right eyebrow. She was dressed simply but with perfect measure, her blue dress hugging her slim waist and chest tightly while swaying around her wide hips and along her thick thighs.

Aknova James was borderline Hawkins royalty. Her parents were loaded so she was afforded every luxury the average resident of Hawkins would have to go out of their way for. While growing up under the influence of the Hippie movement from the prior decade, Nova grew into an incredibly classy young woman. At least she appeared classy. Just underneath her elegantly trimmed smile was a carefree attitude and an iron resolve, few people’s opinions could deter her predetermined perspective. And should someone cross her, she had a few choice words which would knock the wind out of anyone’s sails. Thankfully the shining star used her power wisely… more or less.

“Ohhh fuck,” Jay muttered as she watched the new customer pass by their table.

Allie’s brows furrowed and she twisted to try to match Jay’s gaze, “What?”

The second she spotted the cheerleader her own jaw became slack, “Ohhh mierda.”

Both the odd balls were familiar with Nova, mostly from the captivating atmosphere she carried through the halls, and long winded rumors of her privileged position. Being on the cheer team also granted her revered social status, and the outcasts clocked her high school social class from miles away. She was in a different league from the two entirely; when she entered a room, things shook. They could only hope things would shake away from them.

“That’s Nova James,” Allie commented with surprise.

“Yeah I know that’s Nova fucking James, her giant ass is ten feet away from my face,” Jay hissed. Curling her fingers together and resting her elbows on the table, her chin sat atop her intertwined gloved hands. Narrowing her eyes at the girl who had approached the desk, she grumbled under her breath just loud enough for her friend to hear.

“Shit, she looks hot. Really hot.”

“Good, she’ll take some of the attention off of you and your rats nest,” Allie teased while pulling at the wispy strands of Jay’s teased hair.

“It’s a bat's nest, god, and you know what, maybe I want a little attention! I’m hot! And when Madonna wannabe’s aren’t walking around like they’re god's greatest gift to the mall, I actually get compliments!”

Allie opened her mouth to reply to her friend’s banter but was left without any silence to fill.

“God she really pisses me off. Every time she comes in here she asks for a sample, dislikes the sample, and orders two scoops of strawberry in a waffle cone. But like three bites into the ice cream she sticks the whole thing into a bowl. You’d think she’d start cutting to the chase and getting strawberry in a bowl, but no, she goes through the whole process every time.”

The brunette stared at the rambling goth across from her with concern. “… are you stalking her?”

Jay looked back at her with a face still perplexed in frustration at the girl currently ordering, “I’m here a lot, and I like to people-watch, okay? Look- just look-“

As she insisted and subtly pointed to Nova, the girl already had a small spoon between her lips. Chewing slightly and nodding in response she tossed the spoon into a small trash bin. She pursed her lips while thinking for a moment, the dirty blonde currently working the desk sighing with an empty stare as Nova contemplated. She finally spoke up and pointed to a flavor sitting deep in the display. Allie and Jay watched intently while the employee leaned to grab a waffle cone, and after digging her scooper into the tub she lifted a perfect scoop of pink and red, followed by a second scoop to raise the height of the treat.

“Yeah, she got strawberry,” Allie nodded absentmindedly at the scene in front of her only to be immediately shushed by Jay who was still watching like a hawk.

Nova received the ice cream with a smile, licking a stripe while rummaging through her purse. She took a second bite while pulling out cash and dropped it casually by the register. Her motions stilled as she waited for her change to be rung up, and only once the receipt was handed to her did she take a third bite of the ice cream. After a brief conversation with the current employee the girl was handed a small bowl, and Nova dumped her ice cream down into the cup quickly while the waffle cone peaked out like a tall tower.

“Boom!” Jay slammed her hands against the table. “Just like I said. She literally has a pattern!”

Allie flinched, startled from the noise but nodded back.

“Yep, yeah, wow,” she began in a sarcastic voice. “She literally did exactly what you said she would do. That was crazy. I’m so- so enraged by her behavior. Good catch Jay.”

“… can you at least pretend to care?”

“I was pretending.”

“Well then do it better-“

“Hey Jay,” a new voice chimed into their conversation.

The two girls turned their gazes to the opposite side of their table to find a pretty brunette in a blue dress staring at them patiently while chewing on a spoonful of ice cream. A smirk tugged at her lips and she batted her lashes with feigned innocence. The once previously hunched over goth straightened in her seat and smiled politely.

“Hey- hi, Nova. Good to see you.” She slurred in slight panic.

“You know I thought Elvira was sitting here for a second, I was about to ask for an autograph! How are you?” Nova asked as she shifted her weight to one hip, eyes flickering between the two girls sitting side by side in the booth.

Jay let out a breathless laugh while her flattered face grew pink.

“I’m good, uhm, have you met Allie?” Jay asked as she motioned to her friend next to her, Nova’s eyes quickly followed like she had been waiting for the stranger to be brought up.

“No, not formally, I’m Nova James,” she said with an award winning grin. Her hair falling delicately to one shoulder as if it was commanded to.

Allie was struggling to respond, staring wide-eyed while her mouth hung open and a hum rang out, like she was a robot in the middle of saying hi before someone hijacked her programming. Jay gently kicked Allie under the table to silence her droning, their thick boots creating a dull ‘thwack’ against each other.

“Hi! Nice to meet you finally, formally, properly, uhm- I’m Allie Perea, I moved here a few months ago- New Mexico.” Allie came to life and spoke quickly.

“No way,” Nova’s voice peaked with intrigue, “that’s so cool! I went there for a music festival with my parents when I was younger.”

Allie was wide eyed behind her square glasses, “Oh wow, you’ve really traveled- uh, yeah we get really good groups out there. My dad took me to see Van Halen last year.” She said and after a beat tugged on her tour t-shirt.

“Those are the guys that did that one song-” Nova hummed the opening melody to Jump while squinting her eyes to place the group in her mind.

“Yeah! Yeah that’s them!” Allie answered with a grin

“Gnarly, they seem fun to hear live.” She complimented while watching the bundled up girl continue to gawk. Allie’s soft features slowly started to curl into an impressed smile, eyes shining with excitement at the mention of the band. Although the transfer student was a fresh face, the cheerleader couldn’t help but find Allie endearing and sweet.

Allie’s mind on the other hand was a whirlwind, this casual interaction defied everything she knew about the social hierarchy in Hawkins. Cheerleaders didn’t talk to basket cases and when they did they certainly weren’t nice about it. Yet the wealthy girl was currently on equal footing as the outcasts, enjoying the same atmosphere and the same sweet treat. The concept helped to soothe Allie’s rampant anxiety.

Jay looked between the two for a moment as the conversation halted, so she interrupted the awkward silence with as charming a smile as she could muster, “Well what brings you to the mall? Running some errands? Meeting up with a hot date?”

Nova laughed and waved her hand in the air, “not today, I’m just meeting up with a friend.”

Nova glanced between the two girls, her foxy eyes glimmering with cunning as her freehand pressed on the table. Leaning over the table to get closer to them she tilted her head.

“Actually, you guys are friends with Eddie Munson right?”

The question punctuated a pause in the banter, Jay and Allie flickering their eyes to meet as their faces twinned in confusion.

“Yeah? We are.” Jay answered uncertain.

“Does he have a job right now?”

It was then Allie barked a harsh laugh, a mocking smile stretching her lips.

“I think Eddie’s allergic to work! Guys been slacking off all summer, super bummed about being held back… I shouldn’t have said that last part.”

“It’s fine, I suspected as much.” Nova pulled out a small paper from her purse and slid it onto the table.

“My dad’s looking for someone to keep our pool clean for the summer, pay’s pretty good. If you guys could let him know I’d really appreciate it, have him give me a call if he wants the job.”

As the paper rested between the pair they both moved to inspect it, and sure enough it was Nova’s phone number. Written plainly but perfectly nonetheless. Jay ran the paper between her hands for a moment while she glanced back and forth between the paper, her friend, and the cheerleader.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, we will let him know of the opportunity.”

“Great, you guys are the best! I’ve gotta go but I’ll catch you later,” Nova gave them a playful wink and walked off, her hips swaying side to side as she waved to someone beyond Scoops A’hoy. “Isa! Over here!”

Jay scrambled to lean on the table and watch the swaying of her skirt, “hate to see her leave, love to watch her walk away-“

“Holy shit what was that?” Allie exclaimed as she grabbed Jay’s arm and shook her harshly. “How did she know your name?”

“I don’t know!”

“I thought I was gonna die! Pinche madre, she knows my name now!” Allie deflated in her seat and slapped her hand against her chest.

Jay was too busy examining the slip of paper in her hands, bouncing slightly in her seat while relishing over the dark ink, “and we have her phone number! She gave us her number!”

“… yeah, for Eddie…” Allie corrected with a studious cadence.

Jay turned to look at her, both staring deadpanned as they had earlier.

“… and? She handed it to me.”

“I don’t think she wants you as her poolboy.”

“Hey, I could make a great pool boy. I’m fit, I’m handy-“

“Jay, she wants to fuck Eddie.”

“Ew!” Jay’s face scrunched up like she had tasted a fresh lemon and she dropped the number on the table.

“Gag me with a spoon, don’t put that image in my head!”

“It’s obvious! If her family was really just looking for someone to clean their pool they’d get some average Joe off the street, but Nova’s looking for someone specific to take it. I mean she went out of her way to talk to us just to get to Eddie!”

Allie waved her hands in the air for emphasis and finally slapped them back down in her lap, her friend watching with her lips pressed thinly together and a stare that suggested denial. With a groan Jay dropped her head into her hands and rubbed her face harshly.

“Oh god, she’s gonna fuck Eddie…”

Allie nodded back, the thought that they were accidental accomplice’s in an aspiring hookup was awkward enough. But when factoring in that one of the most popular girls in Hawkins High was making a pass at their loser Dungeon Master, a guy so different from her, a whole new cloud of shame hung over their heads in response’.

Considering Eddie’s romantic track record, Nova’s chances with him were shaky; his last relationship ended in a felony and his crush turned out to be a lesbian. Whatever the result, Allie and Jay had to endure bearing witness. The two girls sat in quiet contemplation, imagining what kind of dumpster fire Eddie would make out of Nova’s advances while also reeling that they encountered a wild cheerleader and survived unscathed.

“… do you wanna split a sundae?” Allie asked with disdain still present in her attitude.

Jay raised her head, humming in contemplation, “butterscotch?”

“… fuck it, sure.”

[cartoonicle]

My First CPC fanart ever!

An AU where Frederick becomes sorta evil after dethroning his father and taking everything tired of the abuse and belittling

I call this one the ‘The Cruel King and his Generous Queen’ note: that he isn’t cruel to his loved ones or his kingdom but you can still be cruel if it’s to people you hate. Evil comes in all its forms.

The second one I call ‘Sink or Swim, Father’ No one knows what happened to the former king of the Plaid Kingdom well except for Frederick. He locked his Father in a darker and dirtier dungeon than the one his father locked him in, whenever he gets angry he takes his rage out on his chained up father.

This one is called ‘You lost Blaine’. Blaine wasn’t going to lose his position to the throne that easily but in the end all of Frederick’s anger and pent up hatred towards his “perfect” brother powered him through the battle and defeated him. Frederick didn’t want someone who betrays their family in his kingdom Frederick exiled his brother until he could learn to let go of his selfishness, his ego, and his perfection. Then he can come back.

And lastly the one I’m most proud of is called ‘The reason for Everything’ all the things he has done wasn’t just for him but for the people he loves including his beloved Gwendolyn. Of course he had the children after becoming king, exiling his brother and marrying his loved one, but having children didn’t change his opinion on the cruel world he would never let his father out and he would never let his brother come back not if it meant putting his children in harm’s way. No one would ever hurt his sparkling spoiled Mariana (I didn’t know how to make her glow) or his cherished little Brandon.

I made this all for @iamlambcat and I hope they can tell me what they think!

Links to helpful art bases

[polarisdelphi]

Back on posting old art I never posted, Frau Schneider, my beloved 🖤

I'm seriously considering turning her into a sticker and slapping it everywhere I need to remember something to do. Drinking water? Frau is there judging me. Writing? Frau is waiting. Sleeping at a decent time? She's at the clock, looking at me with hatred in her eyes.

Jokes aside, this was more of a try on stylized drawing, which I completely suck. Since I studied Schneider's face thoroughly once for another drawing, I figured stylizing him would be easier for me as a first try.

I love his nose HAHAHAHA that's my anchor on his likeness xD

Sketches, breakdowns on how I got here, what I thought on shapes and more on his features - and just general artist blabbering, down below!

It was born from these loose sketches:

And I do like the ~proper~ one too. Took a lot of screenshots of the video's making of to understand his mannerisms when ~in Frau~, and there's a big change between the video and the live versions.

Video is a proper, collected, older woman with a dark side from repressed unfulfilled desires, live one is a brute, angry, harshly dominant one. 100% angry all the time, taking her dogs for a walk 🖤

Keeping some harsh shapes on the first one 'cause we all know she's evil, and some more organic ones on the second one 'cause she's UNHINGED.

(Also, Frau's coat are a thousand little Edelweiss 'cause you know. Schneider, Austria, his wife hahahaha aaaaand I have roots from there too, so I decided to shamelessly slap Edelweiss everywhere xD)

Another interesting thing to note, was trying to keep the male proportions on a female presenting appearance. Because we all learn about better shapes for women, how they usually are ~smaller, softer and more delicate~ than males (please read with sarcasm) but Schneider is still a man in woman's clothing, acting like a woman. So I had to keep in mind what I'd draw if it was just him as himself - big hands, big feet, tall as a fucking tree, very large shoulders, toned arms and muscles, all that. No ~delicate~ features 'cause he's still a man, but in here he's a woman.

I'm not saying I succedeed. But it was a good first try :)

Given I have so many drag queen original characters, it's something I think it was nice to study and have in mind T-T

About his features, like I said, I studied him once 'cause I was trying to go for stylized Live aus Berlin Schneider illustration once, but all I got is: I can draw his likeness from memory now, that's it *cries in incompetence*

I said before, I'm not good at stylizing.

So, his key features are: very slim and small mouth, big nose (gods I love his nose, I'll always say that), kinda small eyes and there's almost no distance to his eyebrows (on the video they paint his brows to make a LOT more arched, almost like original Maleficent), longer face, big and square chin, sharp and high cheekbones. I figured if I kept all that in mind, I'd have his likeness.

That's what I used to go figuring out how to draw Frau like that :)

And why am I blabbering all this?

I just hope it helps other self-taught artists out there who have a hard time finding resources and see other people's drawings and go "oooh man how do I get there?" and the artist always go "I dunno just draw a lot and you will get there :)"

Yes, yes, draw a lot. If you don't practice, you won't learn. But there ARE tools, observation studies, drawing studies and a WHOLE lot of things you can learn from other people to get where you want to faster and easier - but most of these resources are, nowadays, behind a paywall. So I just figured I'll share what I learned and hopefully it'll help someone struggling with the same things I did less than a year ago ;)

[ostebee]

Some sketches of my new AU: God of Dreams Grimm and small story underneath. You can also ask him if you wanna ✌️ askbox is opened. I will be glad to see your feedback too 🫣

From the very beginning of Dreams there was a moth God with ironic name and kindest heart ever. He liked creating Dreams and helping bugs: he sent answers and blessings, love and cherish to everyone in need. He has no tribe of his yet all the Kingdom loved him.

One day he was on the stroll as usual and saw something wicked and weird, malicious even. It was Heart, small patch-worked Heart who made tiny beating sounds. Yet, Grimm had no reasons to be afraid. He didn't knew that some of visitors of his sweet beloved realm could be like this Heart. It squeaked quietly when Grimm took it and said:

"Please, help me! I'm dying!".

Grimm wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to help but haunting feeling... It was almost unbearable. He stroked the Heart to calm it down and said:

"What can I do for you?".

He thought it needs solace or wants to make a small confession before leaving. Yet it had something to surprise Grimm. It whispered sharply:

"I need you, Dreamwalker deity. Your very body, your bare soul. I need you thoroughly".

Grimm got scared. He tried to drop the Heart but it completely stuck to his hands. Bright flames of pure hatred and pain embraced the moth and devoured him in no time. From the ashes new Grimm was born.

No kind, no compassionate, no free anymore. He turned into Hearts servant, scaring away all bugs that knew him and adored him. He turned completely alone, abandoned by every single his follower. Even nowadays there's legends across the bugkind about scary Nightmare King, who turns simpletons into their servants and makes them forgetting about everything they know and love.

Yet, there's one more legend. The Pale light could purify his malicious soul and give him solace, which he was seeking for centuries.

[shiny-jr]

I fumkin love ur fic The Devil so much, love ur oc charlemagne and i gort SO down bad for him, very sadge to see that not a lot of people talkinf about him or the fic in general in tumblr but man that fic in quotev do have a gorilla grip on me that i would reread it back to back every saturday and sundays. Like, charlie is the blorbo from my yandere fic authors that i would want to chew up like a beloved dog toy, knead him like bread dough, let him rise and bake him at 400f for 15 minutes. Soak him with milk and suck the milk out like that one Webkinz toy and throw him against the wall to make a wet thud, wring him like a towel and clamp him down between my teeth and shake at breakneck speeds like those feral dogs , elbow bomb him like a WWE wrestler, put him in a meat grinder and make Charlemagne sausages,,, words alone cannot describe how much that man makes my brain go brr as in jackhammer obliterating tiled floors brr

It gives me some th0ts that wjat if tje mc somehow got into this groundhog type of situation and wakes up on the day where charlie would propose to her with expensive chunky ring. Id think after going thru all the shitstorm she would learn that "okay, maybe he is the greatest detective of all time, rivaling batman" and knows rhat if she drops everything and run, he is jusr going to find her and ruin everything again anyways

So she says yea sure go nuts, but there is that flavour of fear to whenever shes around him, im pretty sure anyone who is partially sentient can pick up on the vibe , especially charlie

Whenever he gives affection or gifts it woild be met with nervousness like mc is about to shit herself out of trembling so hard, but out of sheer fear and anger and hatred

Whenever he tries to ask what's wrong mc would simply dismiss his concerns and kinda gaslight him, saying he is crazy for thinking that something is wrong, the gaslighting done out of revenge and instinct to survive

I feel like that would be a mindfuck for him, i wonder if he would eventually just get used to it or he would smoke so much that he grows an extra pair of lungs cause the carcinogens mutated him so much that he went through rapid forced evolution

Of course, mc probably had to sacrifice her happiness with Elian and the pups, but i guess it should be temporary until charlie rests in pieces due to stress and confusion, but then the mc would also be in pieces from having her CPU on 100% everyday

Whoop another groundhog day event, mc just straight up murders him with the wine glass when she wakes up on the day he proposes to her again, unprompted, maybe even going all john wick and kill him with a pencil after sketching the final coat design

Also mans is lucky he is in the 70's, no doubt hes getting cancelled to hell if he is like in the 2020's

I can't tell if he would be the type to wear a hazmat or astronaut suit during the pandemic or he would brush the cheeky touch of the virus off as a mere cold, being anti vax and all

Makes me think about how he would react with social media and stuff, i kinda headcannon that he would obsessively read his comment section cause he loves feeling angy , but maybe he would simply not, cause as an influencer or celebrity, first rule is to never look at the comment section

Perhaps if you directly bring the 70's Charlie to modern days, he would go insane over social media and how much people talk about public figures

I also headcannon that a massive chunk of his regular business budget is allocated towards lawsuits too, cauae wirh all the stunts he is pulling publicly im pretty sure sometimes its just cheaper and more effective to pay the lawsuit than go on long shady battles wirh them, you know like how that "life hack" where you send a billionaire your wedding invitation and chances are they're going to give you gifts despite literally not knowing who you are? Yea that

I feel like if he is broight into modern modern times, his PR team would be working over time, crying, throwing up, shitting with all the crap he pulls. Everyone is bald from stress, everyone aged into an octogenarian and they have like a pager like surgeons where it alerts them whenever charlie does some silly shit and rhey have to do immediate damage control

Like he would spend hundreds of hours probably feeding the trolls and doxxing them too, nightmare for anyone on his marketing and PR team

But i might be wrong , he probably knows better and just ignores them

If he is 25 in like around 1974 (i assume thats when it takes place), he must be like 74 in 2023 and he would still slay the house down while battling arthritis and chronic bronchitis like yes hater king, go off 👏👏

Imagine though, 74 years old pulling stunts like how he did with mc in prosa, just need to pop a couple painkillers and go committing entering and breaking with their elderly walkers, maybe even with turbo wheelchairs

I feel like he would make his own Charlemagne brand electronics, and call it Charlemobile which comes built in with adware for his products only, like a popup ad keeps distracting you telling you to praise him and he would definitely 100% steal your information, like he is the only electronic manufacturer where you should read the terms and conditions word per word if you don't want to end up on craigslist one day

On the softer side, i feel like Charlie would prepare your medications when the both of you gets old and reminds you to eat it ❤️

Mc would try to sneak in a cyanide pill from time to time for his set of medications but have a sneaking suspicion that he might be immune to them cause of microdosing from years of assassination attempts

But lets muddle up the timeline again, i wonder like, will Charlie still kidnap mc even tho shes abstinent? Like no interest in dating other people, or interest in her dogs or interest in having children, she does her own NPC thing. But religiously rejects Charlie like muscle memory from clicking the "X" on a popup ad, will he still snap or will he just sees it as "oh well i can work with this"

Or like mc gets so spooked with all this groundhog day thing that she moves back in with the parents and refuses to budge, becomes a NEET,, will he still kidnap her ? Or kidnap her family in a twist of events

If they ever get married would he let mc see her family or is it a "god i fuckin hate my in laws , we are not going to the barbeque" type of deal?

I also keep thinking about the engagement announcement party near the end of the book, cause im a gal who has a really reactive bowel when nervous or uncomfortable or feeling strong emotions in general, i was thinking what if during the entire thing mc is stuck in the toilet and missed everything , including Elian and Charlie's top 5 freakouts of all time, so while you nuked the toilet, charlie nukes the whole place down. That would be funny i think

But yeah literally if i were in the story i would spend a great deal of time jailed to a toilet, i would literally miss every show of his because out of anger shits, i feel that would make him smoke a couple extra cigarettes that day and maybe even cry because it is force of nature, he cant conquer nature

Or can he? 👀

I feel like if this happens in the 1920's Charlie would consider lobotomizing mc but im glad its in the 70's

Do u think he would binge watch trashy TV reality shows and clutch his pearls whenever drama happens

Wow this is a long waffle, thanks for reading and until then, i shall be painfully yearning for more Charlemagne content

- Charlemagne Simp Anon (can i claim this anon pls)

Holy shit. Okay. When I saw how long this ask was, my eyes went wide like. My dude, this is a whole essay. I gotta put it under a special tag because I think this is the longest ask I've ever gotten and there's a lot of funny stuff from this. It's so wild to me that you would reread it so often?? That whole first paragraph really just shocked me.

These are a lot of thoughts you bring. A lot. Most I'm not even sure how to react to or how to respond. The part about his age though got me, because I know for a fact that Charlemagne would still be pulling crazy stunts at that age, like crashing the biggest fashion galas despite being on the ban list specifically because he's caused scenes in the past. Also, he would 100% watch horrible reality tv shows and clutch his pearls.

Unfortunately, I don't plan to make any Charlemagne content for the future, unless I had this groundbreaking idea and I see that The Devil reaches another milestone.

[kayssweetdreams]

A Wonderous Christmas Ch 7

Meanwhile, Back in the Real World...

Walt grunted as he went to complete his Winter of Woe he had practically grabbed all of the ingredients, and was just missing the first snow of Winter. Unfortunately, he found that trying to get snow, with a flame of pure hatred had made most it his attempts futile, as all of it melted.

The blonde man let out a yell of frustration, but calmed down. Because he knew it would be all worth it. Wilma walked in, holding the other things that Walt needed. "Walty, explain to me how you think this is going to work?" She said, doubt in her voice. Walt glared at her, a twisted smile on his face "THIS is how we get Wonderworld to reveal itself! 1. We cause the worst blizzard in history. 2. We draw out the Brunos so that they HAVE to use Mirabella's book to ward it away. 3. We steal the book, and use one of the spells to reveal the Balan Theater, and Wonderworld to the world. And last, 4. I become the strongest human being on earth, and this entire town will BOW AT MY FEET!!!" He yelled.

Wilma still raised an eyebrow at him "Yes. Because making a snowstorm is going to draw out one of the most beloved families in town, and make them use their magic so that you can reveal Wonderworld. Yeah...good luck with that." She said, completely unimpressed with her husband's plan. Walt frowned at her "You mock me now, but you'll see. It WILL work, especially because I have a little ace up my sleeve." He said, grabbing a bottle that said "Voice Mimicker" and calling for his Daughter...

Meanwhile, Back in Wonderworld...

The party had finally kicked into high gear, as Balan had revealed the way to the Isle of Tims, as well as the combined worlds. The human guests looked in awe. They had never known that the worlds can combine on the holidays. "This is incredible!" Eis said "Talk about a perfect shot! Where's my sketching supplies and paints when I need them." Lucy said.

"Is this part of Wonderworld's magic too Balan?" Yuri asked, a snowflake fluttering onto her nose, and causing a chill through her. "It is so dear Yuri! The worlds combine, from your night power to Iben's snow flurry." The maestro explained, taping Yuri's nose. Mei looked to see Aria playing with Phil and Lila Bia, while Trisha Jane was talking to Rebecca and Cal. "This really is a Wonderous Christmas Balan!" She said.

Balan chuckled and gave a smile, until he spotted Alice looking worried about something. He floated over to her, a concerned look on his face. "Alice dear, you look distraughten. Is there something that's gotten your spirits rotten?" He asked. Alice looked up at the maestro, worry and fear in her eyes "I'm just worried that this year might be like last year...when he and Mason had their split." She said.

Balan knew what she meant, after all, Leo's split had caused him to become isolated, which caused him to find Wonderworld in the first place. "Don't worry Alice, for Leo's thoughts aren't filled with Malice. Something is going to happen tonight, and Leo is just waiting until the moment is right." He said before a snowball hit his back, and Balan saw the Bruno Childen with their ammunition armed and ready.

"Oh, that's it little ones, let's go." He said, snapping his fingers and making multiple snowballs, the size of basketballs float into the air. "RETREAT!!" They yelled, running away from floating ammo. But Alice mulled over Balan's words, what was Leo planning?

Mei belongs to @sundove88

Rebecca belongs to @thehypercutstudios/@thehyperrequiem

Trisha Jane and the Kellers belong to @lovelyteng

Aria belongs to @shadowqueen402

[kazewhara]

I’m really glad that you’re doing okay zuzu^^

And thank you for always listening to me rambling lol (even if it’s just about ningguang, my beloved main, lmao).

Another thing, then I swear I’ll leave you alone, I was thinking about you and suddenly the idea of modern au kazuha who works part-time as a florist struck me.

Imagine you barging in his little shop one late afternoon, all frazzled and looking one inch away from madness because you urgently need flowers for a stupid reason such as “I need to insult this person, so how do you say ‘fuck you’ in flower language?” so much that you didn’t even notice the stunned boy holding a vase of lilies half in puzzlement and half in pure amusement. You have the decency to look sheepish, at least, growing more and more embarrassed as the boy (the very attractive boy, but that’s for later notice) gently laughs. He hums in contemplation, a sharp glint in his otherwise kind eyes as he very seriously takes up your request and immediately starts picking colorful flowers and arranging them in a bouquet that’s entirely too pretty for its own purpose. God, you almost wish the pretty boy in front of you dedicated those flowers to you, uncaring of the meaning if it meant receiving flowers from him at all. All too caught up in your own thoughts and in the way his gentle fingers wrap up the bouquet in satin ribbons, you almost fail to notice that he’s done, handing you the fruit of his work (but what you don’t fail to notice, is the tenderness with which he handles those flowers). You thank him profusely, tripping over your own words as you try to look at him in the eyes, he waves you off, mumbling something about how flowers can convey so much more than words ever could and how he’s glad to be of service to you. He proceeds to explain the meaning of every flower he arranged oh so flawlessly: red geraniums for ‘stupidity’, yellow carnations for ‘disappointment’, orange lilies for ‘hatred’, topped by some purple larkspur for ‘haughtiness’, by the end of his explanation, his expression is quilted in amusement and poorly hidden mischief, and you think that he, for once, doesn’t need any flower to say what he wants. But then, before you can leave, he wordlessly hands you one single lavender flower. You look at him expectantly, but he merely raises his eyebrows at you and goes back watering what appear to be petunias. This bitch. And as you leave with your bouquet from the glass door you hear a faint but teasing “you’ll come back, will you?” almost drown out by the sound of the bell attached to the entrance door. As soon as you step out of there, you fumble to get your phone, hastily typing, a google page with the meaning of lavender soon pops up: devotion and distrust. Which one is it? Oh. Guess you’ll really have to come back, won’t you?

Don’t mind me brainrotting lol, all of this cause I wanted to send this lil sketch of florist kazuha lol.

Hope this finds you well zuzu, I really wanted to thank you for your writings, im not really good with thanking with words, so here I am once again in your inbox lol.

-Hecate

i think i should make a tag for ask box pieces because this. this is AMAZING holy fucking shit WAIT BECAUSE HE DID THAT ON PURPOSE TO MAKE US COME BACKSUJSSBJSJDS AND LOOK AT HIS FACE OH MY GOD?? OH MY.GOF

hecate i literally just woke up no more than 15 minuted ago and you have made my entire fucking night, like i'm swooning and itching to write smth like this now ... thank you so so so so much for thinking of me and liking my writings, that's so goddamn sweet and i never know what to say in response, but believe me when i say my gratitude for you runs very VERY deep

now i think i'm gonna stare at this kazuha for a little while and cry because HE'S SO CUTEEKEHJEJSJDSNJDN LOOK AT HIM OH MY GOD

[coffee--writes]

The Message on the Wall

Pairing: James Potter x gn!Reader - Marauders x Reader Content

Word Count: 5.9k (jdklfdh im sorry) 

Warnings: Underage Drinking, Implications of... yeah. I think that’s about it. 

Requested: Yes, a long time (i feel bad for only getting to it but i hope the nonnie stuck around to see this piece) by an anon who asked for James x Reader with childhood best friends to lovers trope. 

Summary: In which, James Potter was busy writing himself a message on the wall but was too blind to read what he had to say. 

Pictures. 

In actuality they were only images. For Muggles, they stood stagnant, for James Potter they moved slightly. 

But in deeper meaning pictures were moments in time captured in a frame. They were a personal reminder of things that were, things that used to be and anything else that didn’t fall into one of the other two categories. 

James Potter adored pictures. His room was littered with them. A handful were of Quidditch players and Tutshill Tornados merchandise. One picture of him and his parents sat on the nightstand beside his bed. But adjourned on the wall to the left was a mostly blank wall. One small Tornados banner was pinned against the soft red paint and in the middle a picture he was particularly fond of. 

The film captured James at the age of four. A broom was clutched in his left hand and a toothy smile on his face as the wind rustled his hair causing it to stick up more than it already did. Beside him was you, your eyes crossed and your tongue licking a swirled lolly. 

When his mother had shown him the picture you had just left for home, making a young James quite sad that his friend couldn’t stay just a little longer. Euphemia Potter had smiled, handing the picture to her son. “It’s okay, my love. Now you have a piece of Y/N with you.” 

“How?” James had asked, his lower lip jutting out in a frown. 

Euphemia laughed. “The picture captures you together. Look how happy the two of you look!” she points at her son’s smile in the photo. “You can do whatever you’d like with it.” 

James grinned, his eyes lighting up once more. “I want to hang it, mum!” he dragged her hand into the bedroom with him, climbing on top of his bedsheets and pressing the picture to the wall. “Here. That way I can say goodnight to them even when they're not here.” 

Euphemia Potter smiled watching as her son tucked himself under the covers. “That’s a brilliant idea, James.” With a wave of her wand, two pins fastened themself to the wall, the photo beneath. 

That was the beginning of James’s love for pictures. More pictures would accumulate such as the one of him and his father at a Tornados game. Drawings you would give him of flowers and Kneazles. The pictures would come and go but yours stayed the same. An additional picture of you and James would later be added three years later when the two of you were seven. James’s broom no longer sat in one hand, instead was gripped with two and hovering five feet off the ground. He had a wicked smile on his face, his glasses slightly falling down his nose. You sat behind him, your small fingers clutching to his waist as the picture captured you mid-squeal. 

Time went on yet the pictures of the two of you stayed the same. Along with your drawings, which had improved dramatically since you were seven, he’d occasionally find a Hollyhead Harpies banner plastered to his wall. When he came to scold you, pink banners adjourned in his hand, you’d laugh at the pout on his lips. He could never stay angry at you and always joined in on your laughter. 

The final year before things would slightly change was the year before going to Hogwarts.  A third picture was added at the age of ten. The Potter family had accompanied your family on a trip to Diagon Alley in which you had bought your screech owl, Juniper. James had one arm wrapped around you. His hair was untidy and a goofy smile was on his face as his other hand flicked your forehead. Your eyes were closed mid-laugh as one hand pushed his face away and the other perched with Juniper who screeched happily on your available arm. 

Again, time went on quickly and changes were made in James Potter’s room but you were not one of them. He packed up his Hogwarts things the night of August 31st, leaving his room full of pictures with a soft smile. 

You rode on the train with him, both of you waving goodbye to your loved ones. You grinned at him wickedly, “Excited?” you ask. 

“Definitely.” he responded. “Do you have money for the trolley?” 

You slide into a train compartment, one small boy already sitting there. “Yeah. Do you need to borrow some?” 

James nodded and you rolled your eyes, handing money over to the kind witch who passed by, grabbing pumpkin pasties for you and Bertie Botts for James. 

The ride was life-changing as you made acquaintances with similar mindsets. Two more boys entered your compartment and along with the scrawny boy from before, all of you made it to Gryffindor. “Where dwell the brave at heart” as James liked to put it. 

First year was an interesting feat with James quickly falling head over heels for Lily Evans. Your friendship never faltered although the thought of her in his life made you feel odd. However, you were sure she wouldn’t be in his life for quite some time seeing as his persistent efforts were met with an equally stubborn rejection. 

“She’s a firecracker, that one.” he sighed, walking beside you down the hall after another devastating encounter with Lily. 

“You’re just embarrassing yourself now, my boy.” you reply, dubbing his nickname to ease the comment. 

He smirked. “Then why do you hang out with me?” 

“Because, I’m the one who makes sure you don’t cross the line from embarrassing to mortifying.” 

He shakes his head with a silly grin. “I doubt that. You love me. That’s why.” 

You laugh, an effective way of avoiding the curious ideas that ran through your young mind. “Don’t throw around the l- word so quickly! You’ve got to mean it.” 

James bumped your side. “But I’ve known you for years.” 

You ruffle his hair, making it messier than it already was. “Save it for Evans.” 

---

The year ended and the two of you went home to Northern England hands overflowing with Gryffindor red, spirits high with a drive for Quidditch practice and addresses from Remus, Peter, and Sirius tucked away in your pockets. 

James’s room changed tremendously that first year. Alongside the Tutshill Tornados merchandise were small Gryffindor banners, lions enchanted to roar at the touch. You had given him one of your sketches from the school year, one of Sirius and him laughing in Transfiguration, another of him and Peter skipping stones. The pictures of the two of you still remained, a small collection of dust coating the edges which he wiped away with a smile. 

Second year was merry and full of high spirits. James had acquired his father’s invisibility cloak which gave cause to a number of nighttime rendezvous and adventures in the kitchens. Suspicion arose on Remus, whose monthly disappearances came to your attention. With the help of Sirius and Peter, the group soon discovered Remus’s guarded secret and accepted the furry little problem with open arms. 

The Lily Evans situation did not get any better with James’s persistence holding up fiercely and her hatred toward him even more harsh. As Sirius had dubbed it, “Mate, at this point you’re never getting married.” Remus and Peter whole-heartedly agreed, sending James into an adolescent spiral. 

“What if I don’t get married, Y/N/N?” he confided in you by the shores of the Black Lake. 

You chuckled, his delirium quite adorable. “You’re going to get married, James. Trust me.” 

He sighed, snapping a twig between his fingers. “It’s not definite.” 

“Nothing is.” you counter. 

James groaned. “I know. I know. But I would like it to be. Wouldn’t you?” 

You contemplated the idea, a thought coming to your head. “What if it could be?” 

He stared at you curiously. Your eyes lit up and James grinned. “Hit me.” 

“If by the time we are thirty neither of us are married then we should get married to each other.” you propose, a proud smile on your face. “That way we can have a definite of our own.” 

James grinned. “I like that idea. But what if one of us gets married before that?”

You frown. “Then I guess it’d be a flop. But it’s better than nothing, right?” 

He agreed quickly. The sun was setting into a pond of pink. The wind rustled and birds chirped and the moment seemed picture perfect and James wished a camera would magically pop up and capture the moment so he’d be able to hang it on his wall for years to come. It did not work that way, instead, he turned to you with a smirk. “I don’t have anything to propose with.” 

You looked down in embarrassment and gave him a shove. “We’re not getting married yet! It’s just a deal not the real thing.” 

He rolled his eyes at you. “I know but it feels as though something special should happen. How about we seal with a spit swear?” 

You stick your tongue out and pretend to gag. “Ew! No.” you flick his forehead causing him to wince. He grins before flicking you back, watching as you fall back onto the grass. 

“I guess a flick works as well.” he sighs. “Y/N Potter has a nice ring to it.” 

Your head falls against his shoulder. “I can’t believe I might be a Potter one day. Sounds disgusting.” 

James laughs, the weight of your head feeling oddly familiar against his shoulder. “Oh, shut it!” 

--- 

The years came and went. Third year, James made the Quidditch team and he quickly became a ladies man despite his obvious pining over Evans. You made sure to keep his feet on the ground as you didn’t want his ego to get larger than it already was. You came to all his games, occasionally bringing a camera so that James could add his moments of glory onto his beloved room wall. There was the time he tried dedicating a shot to you and ended up getting knocked off his broom by a Beater. 

He made the next one thankfully. 

On the other hand, you had earned the title of master dueler amongst the third years for your quick arm and sharp spellcasting. While James was at Quidditch practice: you, Peter, Remus, and Sirius would practice in empty classrooms although after a while they became rather bored as you would always win. James would cheer you on, even when you beat him there was a compliment of your skill and he was more than anything, proud. 

The summer between third and fourth year was the year the Marauders got their first group picture together. Everyone had met up at the Potter residence, Euphemia Potter snapping the photo with Sirius and James to the left, Peter and Remus on the right, and you in the middle. James hung the picture on his wall as it was routine by now. The whole gang got to see his famous wall of pictures, his life an open storybook to anyone who looked closely. 

Fourth year sparked love, pranks, and new ideas. Peter went on his first date, flaming at the cheeks as his friends waved him off embarrassingly. Group pranks ensued upon Snape whose oily hair was dyed all colors of the rainbow by the end of the first semester. You had gone on your first date as well, Steven Goldstein from Hufflepuff whom James threatened to beat up and Sirius who gave him “a talk”. 

Most importantly, the group addressed Remus’s furry little problem seeing as each year he came back with more and more scars than before. Two ideas sparked up from the meeting and both were large feats that every member of the group was willing to take. 

“So wait..” Peter asked. “You want to make a map�� that tracks everyone in Hogwarts?” 

James nodded and Remus shook his head. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Don’t look at me that way, Remus.” 

Remus shoved him lightly. “How would that even work though? Isn’t it a little invasive?” 

You smiled. “It most certainly is invasive but think about how awesome it’d be to have something like that. All we would need is…” 

“A complex locator spell.” you and Sirius said together. 

Everyone grinned. “Pete can do the drawing and sketching. He’s good at that stuff. We should check for secret passageways. All of us could do the magic. We’ve got the brains.” 

“I don’t think someone with brilliant magic technique would use the word brain to describe their intelligence.” you point out. James simply flicked you in the head. 

“And there’s the Animagi thing…” Sirius added. 

“That’s a reach.” Remus replied. 

“More than the map?” Peter questioned. 

Remus sighed. “You guys don’t have to do that for me. I’ve been transforming on my own for years. No need to have buddies now.” 

“Nonsense.” you say. “Anything for you, Rem. This is what you deserve.” 

The friends looked at each other silently. “Are we ready to pull off the biggest student feat in Hogwarts history?” Sirius whispered. 

“Aye, aye.” Everyone cheered. 

Peter grinned. “We’re up to no good.” 

James smiled back. “Then let us manage our mischief well.” 

WIth that the group commenced, exiting the abandoned classroom they used and taking off to class. James walked by your side as you headed to astronomy together. 

“I can’t wait till we pin this down. It’s going to be an epic year.” he grinned. 

You chuckle. “I know you’ll end up stalking someone, Potter. Evans by the looks of it.” 

He shook his head, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Nope. I’m gonna stalk you instead. See if you’re hiding any secrets from me.” 

You smile. “What secrets could I possibly be hiding from you, my boy?” 

James nudged your side with a smirk. “You’re telling me a good-looking fellow like yourself isn’t sneaking off with some other lad other than their best friends.” 

You shook your head, the word “good-looking” repeating itself in your mind. “No. If I did I would tell you.” 

“Good.” he said, starting up the stairs to the Astronomy tower. “I don’t need some arsehole stealing you away from me.” 

You roll your eyes. “No one could ever steal me from you, James. I’m not a Quaffle.” 

He nods with a grin. “Yeah. I suppose you’re more of a Snitch.” 

You laugh, dashing up the stairs in hopes that you wouldn’t be late for your Astronomy lesson.

--- 

As one could guess more pictures and sketches made their home on James Potter’s wall. It was a cluttered mess but beautiful nonetheless. It was as though the wall had an expression of its own with its array of Quidditch jerseys, photographs, art, and ticket stubs. Nobody touched the wall except James as he liked having every picture in place. His wall organized the way he liked it best… messy. 

Fifth year was the first year you didn’t see James every week. He had eagerly signed up for Quidditch camp and had left for Wales with promises that’d you write about the boys and the progress on the map and Animagi projects. The projects went well with Peter completing the outline sketches of the maps, Remus filling piles of papers on Animagi transformations and finally Sirius and you gathering the needed ingredients for the Animagi process. 

You had grown taller over the summer, hair lightening and your features more accentuated. Eagerly you awaited James’s return and when the time did come you had woken up early in the morning to see him arrive by Portkey on the hill. The second he appeared you had rushed over, engulfing him in a hug. You had missed his touch, his constant nagging and overall  the James Potterness that followed him around that would never fade with time. 

Meanwhile, he was left out of breath, a couple of inches taller and a smile on his face as he squeezed you back. “Y/N/N! I missed you, you lazy hag.” 

You laughed, messing up his hair that sat more neatly than in previous years. “And I missed you, my boy.” 

The next days before school were spent catching him up on the map and at the pond by your house. With each swim you noticed the changes in James such as the six-pack the tedious trials at Quidditch camp had given him. 

“Oi!” you shouted, splashing him in the face. “Whatever happened to the skinny twig that was my friend?” 

He smirked. “Oi! Why are you looking?” 

You bit your lip, not allowing him to see you flustered. “I’m sorry. You’re my best friend and it’s a very noticeable change!” you pointed at his toned stomach. 

James tapped your nose and you stared at him in annoyance. “It’s only noticeable if you want to notice it.” 

He turned around, making to walk back to the shore of the pond. You didn’t remember when James had gotten so cheeky although he’d always been that way, just never with you. Wickedly, you took the bucket that floated beside you and dunked it in the water. With a mischievous grin, you snuck up behind him, dumping the bucket of water on his head. 

James turned around with a gasp, jaw dropped. You laughed, a wide smile on your lips at the sight of him drenched in his swim trunks. It wasn’t until his arms tucked along your waist, dragging you to the deeper ends of the pond did the smile drop and his return. 

“Why you little…” you seethed. “James Fleamont Potter if you-” 

It was too late by then, your body submerged in the water and you swam up, his laughter the first noticeable sound. You scowled as he doubled over with laughter on the shore. “I’m never letting you go to Quidditch camp again.” 

The two of you walked home as the sun set, many flicks to the forehead ensuing as you did. 

---

Fifth year was by far the most epic year of your Hogwarts experience. Everything was prepared for the Animagi transformation and phase two of the map project was ready to launch with Remus having gained access to the restricted section of the library. 

It seemed as though the whole student body had recognized the change in James’s physique which only led to an inflation of his ego. The worst part was that Lily Evans just so happened to be one of those said noticers and while her defiance toward him was still strong, she could be caught staring in class much to James’s delight. 

The Animagi process began as soon as the September full moon. While Remus suffered in the Shrieking Shack, the four other Marauders set their Mandrake leaves into their mouths preparing for an uncomfortable month of bitterness on their tongues. The leaves were held under their tongues when talking in class and for the rest of the time they resorted to note passing leaving the entirety of Hogwarts wondering why the Marauders went quiet so suddenly. 

During the period between moons, they worked on their map. Stacks of books, both regular and restricted, lay among them. Each had a quill and parchment used to take note of spells or pass messages back and forth. As you worked you received a message from James in the form of a crumpled ball of parchment. You smoothed it out with a sigh. 

I hate this thing. It tastes like piss and lime. 

You held back a chuckle, writing your own message next to his. 

You’re not backing out of this, Potter. It’s for Remus. 

He stuck the leaf under his tongue in order to stick it out at you and you rolled your eyes. He scribbled a message back. 

I know. I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it. 

You smirked, tossing the parchment back to him. 

If your scrawny arse can come back from Quidditch camp with abs then you can stomach keeping a leaf in your mouth for a month. 

He smoothed it out and you went back to your work only getting in a minute's reading before the parchment bounced off your head. You scowled at his antics but he only looked at his book with a smirk. Unfolding the paper, James’s messy handwriting took up the last blank space on the parchment. 

Nice to know you still think about my abs. 

Your stomach squirmed at the feeling that inflamed from his words and the smirk that was on his face. You flicked him on the head, throwing the parchment into the fire before Sirius could ask what it was. 

--- 

It took moon soaked leaves, untouched morning dew and a lightning storm to finally complete the transformations. It was on a late November night that a lightning storm finally struck and in the fifth corridor bathroom the Marauders made their first transformations. For Peter, a small rat with a wriggling tail. For Sirius, a pure black dog. For James, a large stag with mighty horns. For you, a sly fox with sleek orange fur. 

Thus that night began the use of the nicknames: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs and Vixen. Dubbed by James and agreed upon all around. The final full moons of fifth year were spent prancing around Hogsmeade alongside Remus whose scars diminished with each transformation spent with his friends. 

The downside of it all was the building tension in the school. With Lord Voldemort on the rise, more and more of your classmates were showing their true colors. Select Slytherins no longer wore short sleeves, their wrists always covered even in the heat of summer. Watchful eyes and protective glares, you went home for summer in worry. 

Over the summer, Prongs lost his Pronginess. He wrote to Lily Evans most days of the week and now the things she sent him hung on his wall alongside you and the Marauders. An anticipated change but a scary one still. Every outing with James became more about Lily and less about anything else. You could feel your best friend slipping away and you told him so the night before the start of sixth year. 

The two of you sat together in the branches of a tree. The sun hit your skin in rays and clouds passed by over your heads. James’s voice droned on about his darling Lily flower and with an unknowing malice you snapped at him. “Shut it!” you groaned. 

His eyes looked over at you, hands holding your head in remorse. “Aren’t you happy for me? You’ve been acting off all summer.” 

“I’ve been acting off because you’ve been acting off. I am happy for you but Evans is the only thing you talk about these days. What happened to talking about the Tornados or sneaking out together for milkshakes?” 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s different now.” 

“Well, it shouldn’t be.” you exclaim. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t grow up. I support the idea of you no longer being a cheeky bastard. If you’re happy with Evans then I am happy for you. But being with Evans doesn’t mean you have to forget about me or the Marauders or everything else.” 

James nodded, a leaf spinning between his fingers as he frowned. “I’m sorry, Y/N/N.” 

You shake your head. “I am too. Sorry I snapped at you, my boy.” your head fell onto his shoulder the same way it had done for years only this time things had changed. The weight still felt perfect on his shoulder but now his stomach turned and his breath hitched at the close proximity. Things were indeed changing although the two of you only danced around it, not wanting to address the mess you two had made. 

Your head was still against his shoulder as you spoke quietly. “Just remember you’re not a Quaffle.” 

He chuckled, stroking your hair affectionately. “I guess I’ll be the snitch then.” 

You smiled, swimming in the feel of the James Potter you knew so well. Later that night, the two of you snuck out like old times, sharing a chocolate milkshake and sending each other glances the whole way home. 

--- 

Sixth year was a rollercoaster. The map was finished, all the efforts poured out finally receiving an equally impressive outcome with the parchment branded with the names of the Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs and Vixen. Remus had his first kiss and Sirius decided on leaving home and James welcomed him with open arms. 

The other Marauders were not impartial to the changes in your and James’s behavior. The miniscule changes in his face when you napped on his lap or the flush of your skin when he rustled your hair. In all honesty, it was as though the two of you were finally waking up and seeing what they’d been seeing all along. However, your own defiance was strong and love wasn’t simple. James was still under the impression that his heart beat for Lily Evans and you flirted around your feelings as opposed to finally confronting them. 

When Gryffindor won the Quidditch season, you were the first one in James’s arms to congratulate him. He spun you around, a large grin on his face. “We won!” 

You smiled. “That you did, my boy. Celebration calls and are you thinking what I’m thinking?” 

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Hmm? Let me guess… Firewhiskey?” 

“That’s my boy.” you cheer, linking your arm in his and dragging him off the field as Lily Evans watched the boy she had taken a chance on run off with someone else.

---

Firewhiskey made for a fine celebration and resulted in James and you collapsed on the floor of the Gryffindor common room at two in the morning. His glasses were crooked as he stared up at the ceiling and your hair fell in waves on the floorboards. 

“Blimey, I can’t believe we won.” James chuckled, his words slurring together slightly. 

“You deserve it, my boy.” you say, lightly punching his arm. “How are you feeling on this fine evening?” 

His cheeks went pink but a smile overtook his features making for a hilarious expression when he shouted out. “Randy!”  

You doubled over with laughter. “Gosh, James. I don’t need to hear about this.” you shove his grinning face with your palm. 

“What, you've never felt randy before?” he asked, a childlike expression on his face juxtaposing such an intrusive question. 

You hide your embarrassment behind a grin. “Yes, but I’m not going around telling you about it.” 

He tapped your nose with the tip of his finger and your stomach swirled. “And why not?” 

You turned over to your side. “I’m not sure best friends tell each other about being randy, Prongs.” 

James sighed. “I guess not. But how are you feeling, my little vixen?” 

With a swig of your drink and a grin you reply. “Randy.” 

The two of you erupt into fits of laughter. James pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I suppose it’s the whiskey then.” 

You stare up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I suppose so.” 

Both of you knew that wasn’t the case. You knew that despite the whiskey slowing the gears of your mind you still noticed James’s hand laying by your waist. You could still trace the outline of his chin and the bridge of his nose. James could still see the curve of your lips and the rise of your chest. Firewhiskey was most definitely not the cause of your randiness. 

But it was the easiest thing to blame. 

--- 

Your birthday came soon after with the Marauders celebrating in joy. Presents were exchanged with Remus giving you some books, Peter knitted (with the help of his mother) a pair of mittens for you and Sirius had gifted you a record to play on your stereo. 

But James had to be extravagant. It wasn’t everyday his best friend turned seventeen and he marked the occasion with something expensive yet meaningful. When you opened the small box inside had been a silver fox ring. It’s eyes sparkling gems that twinkled as if blinking. 

“James, I’m going to kill you.” you seethed. “This is way too expensive. I’m turning seventeen not fifty.” 

He laughed. “Oi, woman! It’s fine. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Besides, only the best for you.” 

You stared at it once more before engulfing him in a hug. “It’s beautiful, my boy. Thank you.” 

His arms squeezed your waist, breathing you in and remembering the sweet smells of childhood and friendship rolled into one. His eyes closed and it was as if he had drifted off into a pleasant dream. “Of course, my little vixen.”

You made certain to flick his head after. 

He was starting to regret giving it to you already. 

---

Sixth year came to a close with an even more devastating end than the last. The war only continued to rage with Muggles being murdered miles away from the school, Muggle-borns driving into hiding. Sirius’s brother was slowly falling into line with the other Slytherins, devoting their hours to the torture of Muggleborns, Lord Voldemort and the likes. 

James left Hogwarts heart-broken when Lily Evans broke up with him on the last day of term. “Look around!” Lily had told him. “You’re blind, James. I’m not the person you want and it’d be clear if you’d stop and take a look.” 

He hadn’t known what she meant and the first week of summer was spent crying and eating ice cream on the sofa with you by his side. His room had become a mess and Lily’s letters no longer remained on the wall instead crumbled up in a ball in the trash. 

Euphemia Potter couldn’t dread to see her son in the dumps any longer and she made sure to tell him so one evening after you had left. 

“James, you need to get your life together, my love.” she whispered, rubbing her sons back reassuringly. 

His words came out muffled into her neck. “It’s hard.” 

“I know.” she soothed. “And I’m always going to be there for you.” 

“Promise?” he asked. 

“Promise.” she smiled. “Now how about you go clean your room. It’s become quite dirty.” 

He nodded, trudging to his room with a broom. Lily’s words repeated in his mind as he entered. “You’re blind, James. Look around!” But there was nothing to look for. All he saw was his wall and a soft smile came to his face as he approached it. The Tutshill Tornado banners clung loosely to the paint and drawings of Kneazles and landscapes and trees. Pictures of the Marauders and Gryffindor lions. 

And finally the ones of you. 

His fingers ran across the picture in the middle. Four-year old James grinning and you licking a lolly. His eyes moved to the next one, seven years old and flying together on a broomstick. A grin broke out on his face as he saw the one with your owl in Diagon Alley, his fingers flicking your forehead. James’s mind was on hyperdrive as he examined each picture, one common factor in almost all of them. 

You. 

You were in many of the photos, a smile adorned on your face. If you weren’t in the photos you were the one taking them, knowing how much he adored them. Any pictures that hung were sketched by your hands. Here was James Potter’s open story, the story of his life all plastered to the wall as though it was an empty canvas. Present in every moment, every aspect, had been you. You had been the start of his book, the picture of the two of you as tots still smacked in the middle of the wall. Yes, he realized. You had started his book and had remained in it for quite some time. 

Lily Evans must’ve noticed and maybe everyone else had too. 

James had been blind to the message that was sprawled across his wall. He had been the one writing it, maybe not knowingly but writing it out all the same. Everyone had seen it except the writer and his subject, the message painstakingly clear years prior to its conception. 

He quickly removed all the pictures from the wall, grabbing each one that hung and piling them up in his hand. The door swung open as he dashed out of his room yelling, “I’ve got to go, mum!” before running out the front door. The hills of green were illuminated by the night sky, the stars burned for James as he hopped over branches and boulders to get to you. 

Your house was in the distance, your figure standing a few feet away from the home. He called out to you, your eyes turned to meet his. When he reached you, he paused, catching his breath. 

“James, what on Earth are you doing here?” you laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder as he breathed. 

He stood up straight, panting as he held up a photo. “This is us when we were four. The first photo we ever took together.” 

You squinted at him. “Right?” 

He shuffled through the pictures, fingers tracing each one. “And this is from when we were seven. That one from when we were ten. You gave me this drawing when we were six because you loved Kneazles and wanted one as a pet. That drawing was from the first year when we went skipping stones at the Black Lake and you sketched me and Peter.” 

Your face melts slowly. “James, I don’t understand. You’ve had these for years.” 

He exhaled, his eyes lighting up. “That’s the thing. I never saw it till now but Lily said I was blind and that she wasn’t the person I wanted.” You nod, wiping the sweat from his forehead with your sleeve and he grinned. “See that right there. That’s what I want.” 

The night air bit at your spine. “You want me to wipe the sweat from your forehead?” 

He shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Not exactly. I want you to wipe the sweat from my forehead for the next year and the next ten and then the next fifty. You’ve been doing it for years already and the thing is… I don’t think I want anyone else doing it for me.” 

You blinked as he came closer, his palms cradling your cheek as you gazed into his eyes. “You’ve been in my life for as long as I could remember and I want you to stay in it for as long as I live. You told me once to not throw around the l-word and I said…” 

“But I’ve known you my whole life.” you mutter. 

“I think I’ve loved you for a while. I just didn’t know it yet.” 

You shook your head as the wind rustled the branches, the windchime on your porch creating soft melodies. A large grin spread across your lips yet you continued to shake your head. “There’s a war, James.” 

He smiled. “Only more the reason to be with me.” 

“But I’ve been with you my whole life.” you tease. 

“Oh, shut up!” he chuckles, before leaning down to capture your lips. At that moment everything made sense. All the pieces of the puzzle sifted into place and the stars applauded you from the sky and the night gale created a ruckus at your shed blindfold. 

“Be my Snitch?” he asked. 

You rolled your eyes, “That’s the cringiest thing you’ve ever said, my boy.” 

He smirked. “Oh, but you love it.” 

“Perhaps I do.” you replied, flicking his forehead for good measure. 

---

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[hjarnrota]

shin yttd? 👀

Sexuality Headcanon: woof i think hes bi but theres so much disdain for other people and fear, and self hatred. its not easy

Gender Headcanon: flip flopping between cis and trans man, or nonbinary trans masc.. no real preference tbf!

A ship I have with said character: i ship him with the guy from one of nankidais other mangas LOLLL.. he made sketches of them working together in retail and well it did push me to draw nsfw. shins absolutely abhorrent and embarrassing first time and then he quits working there, hoping he never gets to see him again

THIS GUUUUY

A BROTP I have with said character: toxic soushin friendship my beloved.. literally nothing better than a punching bag and the worst person you can imagine. just the aspect that out of sheer misfortune you end up with such a manipulative and violent person who ends up getting attached to you.. what a nightmare. at the same time shin is so utterly alone and desperate for human connection he cant bring himself to cut him off. love the horror of it all!

A NOTP I have with said character: im so sorry comrades i dont get shinalice

A random headcanon: literally so bad with headcanons, i can only come up with full on scenes fuuuck. think hiyori made a deal out of shin having a weak stomach and put the thought in his head that his parents must be so annoyed with him for having to cook extra, or having to resort to cooking bland meals all the time so their son wont get sick. shin already thinks of himself as a burden, but when he gets home after a long day with his bestie and sees his parents had a big fancy dinner w tons of leftovers for themselves he just feels worse

General Opinion over said character: thought he was so annoying throughout the whole game up until the end of the second trial. his attachments to kanna and how his plan all backfired, the tragedy… it did tug at my heartstrings 🙄 then midori gets introduced and im utterly obsessed with him because yippiee finally he gets some punishment. can say only through their dynamic i started having some sympathy for him

[jillybean2011]

Alright, lemme just unload here...

I know I’ve been constantly dumping on Pixar lately, and to be fair, the recent movies have been amazing. Turning Red is AMAZING!! It’s refreshing to see so many female issues explored for young girls. But the ones released in 2019 were very disappointing as they all followed the bullshit “Someone leaves for something else and just abandons their family.“ theme. In fact almost all the sequel movies of that year did it. Endgame did it, Frozen 2 did it (more on that later), How to Train your dragon 3, then Pixar did it with Ralph breaks the internet, and my biggest complaint, Toy Story 4.

This theme not only bothered me because it was a terrible theme in the first place, it ruined the films series in the end, but it hurt me personally.

Every time I think of Toy Story, I can think of happy memories with my friends and cousins. I went to see the 2nd one with my two best friends and cousin. I saw the 3rd with the same 2 friends the year after we graduated college. The third made me feel better about them leaving for their futures because we had a bond.

Then Toy Story 4 came out.

They took all the 3 films’ story line, message, and nostalgia and threw it in the trash.

Literally.

I was in a bad place in 2019, and from these films before mentioned, the message I got from it was ‘Your friends are leaving you for better things and leaving you behind with nothing but memories and loneliness‘ hit really hard for me. Not one of those films made my mental state better. And to this day, I’m still slowly recovering. But I have other issues with the films.

Now to the biggest annoyance I have with it.

We had the Potential to have a Toy Story movie focused on little girls’ and how they’re expected to ‘mature faster‘ then boys. To have little imaginative Bonnie be a driving force of girls being allowed to be children longer. To have Jessie and Bo’s past abandonment at the hands of their beloved little girls come up and explode at Gabby for chasing a dream of a child that will give her up in just a few years. Then have Bonnie, a little oddball who plays by her own rules, find Bo and instantly love her to bits, thus slowly helping Bo and Jessie heal while showing girls they shouldn’t be in a rush to grow up, or to follow into society norms. THAT would have been a great movie.

Instead, we got this.

I HATE this piece of trash (Literally) because of one reason and one reason only.

He’s a toy version of Olaf. The stupid snowman that serves no purpose but to sell toys and make those shit Frozen shorts, has more products than Tiana, the only black Disney Princess, and honestly? Worse Disney character of all time. That’s why I hate Toy Story 4. It was just a sell out of a garbage movie, with a garbage plot and the ONLY redeeming quality was the animation.

BUt IT shOWEd WooDy he’S Not THe MaIN TOoooYYY! Bitch, that was the first movie. BuT WooDY LeARNEd WhAT It MeANs tO Be A TooOOOyyyY! Literally the second movie. bUT It SHowEd THaT He WaS Ok TO MoVe oN fROm ANd- FUCKING LITERALLY WAS THE THIRD MOVIE!

The amount of rage, disgust and hatred for what is being done to this once amazing franchise pisses me off to no end. Hell, while writing this, I already sketched out and wrote a better script for Toy Story 4.

All and all, we need to make a protest and demand the 2019 films get a do over, because the theme of them was disappointing and garbage.

This has been my TED talk, thank you for attending.