#the portraits do work with some aesthetics

[lunapwrites]

an interesting thing that i've realized through playing the sims: the art that i prefer to decorate a home with does not equal the art that i love.

what i mean by this is that while i'm putting a room together, and i'm considering all the lines and colors and shapes and cohesion of everything, 9 times out of 10 the classical portraits that i flock to at the museum do not work as well on the wall as the canvas with the paint splatters on a simple gradient background. it just doesn't. and part of me is upset about this because i am an absolute whore for baroque art. like, vermeer? gentileschi? bernini? render them unto me that i might gaze upon their beauty.

but would i put a copy of Judith Slaying Holofernes in my living room? no, it clashes with the upholstery.

too dark for the hallway.

sending mixed messages in the dining room.

so yeah, idk, having a big funky color block a la rothko has some aesthetic value on a day to day home use basis, and i'll probably die mad about it loll

[girlssagainstgod]

today's moodboard // October 18th 2022

[felikatze]

THE ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY: THE CRACK HEADCANON THAT RUINED ME FOREVER

HI. you might know me as the kingphie divorce guy. or as the guy who wrote the 6k ludonarrative essay. Today i am going to introduce to YOU @the-bitter-ocean's fantabulous ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY!!!

DISCLAIMER

This post contains SPOILERS for ALL of In Stars and Time. INCLUDING THE ACT 6 SECRET!!

You have been warned.

ALSO!!!!

The original headcanon/theory is VERY MUCH Ocean's fantastic work! I am merely rehashing all the arguments for it that have been laid out across various chats into one cohesive thing people can look at. Also citations! Who doesn't love those.

WHAT IS IT?

Well, it's quite simple. It's the theory that Euphrasie, love of my life and Head Housemaiden of Dormont, is from the forgotten island, same as Siffrin and the King.

(Yes, this is why divorce AU exists.)

WHY DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE THIS?

Quite a lot of reasons, actually.

It's really funny

Let us begin with: the basics.

SUPERFLOUS AESTHETIC DETAIL

HAIR COLOR

This is Euphrasie. She's very pretty. I love her.

You might notice several things about her, like her fantabulous white hair.

Well. What other characters have white hair?

You have guessed correctly. The ONLY OTHER white haired characters with actual artwork are Siffrin and the King, both from The Island The World Forgot. Thus we can assume that it's a typical hair color for islanders. Makes it stand out very much that Euphie also has it.

(What about the beautiful one- sh sh sh he's blonde. He's blonde.) (Well, actually, considering that they are the only one who acknowledges that Vaugardians are also weird, what if he's from the island as well? Checkmate atheists.)

EYELASHES

(EDIT!!!!! FINALLY PUTTING THIS ON THE MAIN POST!!!

Turns out I was incorrect in this. Some characters (Mira, Isa) also have eyelashes on SOME portraits. The mentioned chars r still notable for Always Having Em, + the Loop lashes are like, literally intended as plot twist foreshadowing, but, hey.

That's what you get for writing essays at 1am.

IN RETURN!!! Someone pointed out to me [i forgot who sorry] that Euphrasie's capelet.... has stars on it!! It's speckled like the starry sky!! Now isn't that a neat coinkydink.)

(Original text left up because I respect my past self's artistic vision. And his lunacy.)

Correct. Eyelashes.

Going back to our portrait of Euphie, she is drawn with precisely three eyelashes. Why is this notable? Because Siffrin and Loop are.

So much so, that being drawn with three eyelashes, is specifically an element of foreshadowing to Loop's true identity.

(squints at character portraits) literally no characters besides Siffrin, Loop, and Euphrasie have eyelashes? Oh my god. What? Nobody has eyelashes? What the fuck? (okay, some moments later: Mirabelle has eyelashes in some battle artwork, but these three are the only ones specifically with eyelashes in dialogue portraits, which is still incredibly odd.)

SPEAKING HABITS

(EDIT!!! Another Point that is Kind Of Off, in that other characters [e.g. Odile] also do this occasionally. Again, keeping the text for my creative vision.

In return I get to inform you that the King makes the "not so bright, Bright One" pun TWICE in different loops, thus implying the King likes puns. Take this as you will. That's been my psychic damage, buhbyeeee~)

Hey, so, you know when you talk to people in Dormont, a lot of the NPCS will have a nametag that just says "[something] One" right? Daydreaming One, Castle-Loving One, Beautiful One?

And I've seen people wonder, are these titles? Nicknames?

And I bring you this: Siffrin addresses these people with these epithets in his head, because they have no fucking clue what anyone's name is.

So Siffrin just naturally lapses into this style of nicknaming strangers.

Which two other people also do.

Bright one... ...... Do you remember? Traveling one! Are you done talking with your companions? Yes, wonderful, wonderful!

Funny little tidbit that these three characters all speak alike isn't it :)

Okay. With aesthetics out of the way, let's move onto the next tier of this iceberg:

THE MECHANICS OF FORGETTING AND BEING FORGOTTEN

I realize in the process of writing that we must outline the nature of the curse. What gets forgotten and what gets to stay?

The particularity that's important to us right now is: what people get forgotten?

All evidence points toward this: an entire person is only forgotten if they were physically present on the island when it vanished.

I'm pulling up two example cases to prove it: Siffrin and the Daydreaming One.

The thing with Siffrin is: we know he witnessed the exact moment the island vanished. And, very notably, Siffrin was in a boat.

You can get the dialogue that proves this only in ACT 2 in a secret room most people don't find on their first playthroughs, which is both very funny and very evil. Here's the dialogue.

Siffrin: "I ran away from home once!" [...] Siffrin: "And so I took our boat! Got to the beach, rowed away from the shore a bit. I was going to come back right away, I just wanted to scare my parents a bit!" [...]

Siffrin: "I started to row back towards the shore... And then, I... I... ..." Isabeau: ... Sif? Siffrin: (Woah! What?) "Um, yes?" Isabeau: Um... You were telling us how you ran away from home? Siffrin: "I... was?" Odile: You... Were. Bonnie: DID YOU FORGET WHAT YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT WHILE TALKING ABOUT IT?!?

Siffrin is from the island, but was not physically present when it disappeared. This resulted in Siffrin forgetting their entire identity, including given name and spoken/written language.

Additionally, this is confirmed via Word of God to be the exact moment the island disappeared, so here's proof I'm not reading into it:

Shoutout to bibliomaniac's insane google spreadsheet for the easily searchable screenshot. god bless. Brinny, ily.

On the other hand, with the Daydreaming One, we have proof of a person who is not originally from the island, but was physically on it at the time of disappearance.

Siffrin: "Don't you have a sister?" Daydreaming One: I... I don't? I just said I'm an only child, silly!

(For her to forget someone like her sister, so easily... Her sister must've traveled to...)

Secondly, we know that remnants of the island were not completely forgotten immediately.

Memory faded gradually, starting with the ability to still speak and think about it with accompanying headaches, until it ramped up in intensity and everything is simply gone.

The Sparkling Diary in the library is more or less proof. Memory of the island was gone, but... people still remembered that they forgot something. People still knew what they were talking about, (an island north of Vaugarde), just without the specifics.

"Urgh. Also, Dad noticed no one can say the name of the island north of here anymore?" "I tried to say it yesterday and I got like the WEIRDEST headache for HOURS."

And Odile also remarks the following

Odile: We also know that people could remember that country clearly, before.

This will be relevant later. Moving on.

CONTRIVANCES

THE HOUSE'S OBSERVATORY

SO. The House of Change of Dormont has this funny little room on the third floor. It's an observatory. To look at stars with. When entering this room for the first time, Mirabelle says this:

Mirabelle: What...? Was there a room like this in the House? Y-yeah, I remember! Someone was working here... Studying... They looked like... ... Um... Sorry, I can't remember.

This reveals to us several things:

This room is innate to the House, and not brought here by the King's weird redecorating

Someone from the House was using it for study

All memory of who or what was studying and being studied was erased alongside the island's existence

Of course we can say, "yo, what if Euphrasie was using this room and just forgot?" but that is. a headcanon. I ADMIT! It is a stipulation

However, I find the general presence of the Island written all over the House incredibly interesting.

Inside the Observatory, there's a pile of papers with messy handwriting. You can't read these in until ACT 4. Even in ACT 4, you can't read them. But you do learn what's written on them.

(A pile of papers.) (It looks like someone was trying to write your country's name.)

Inside the observatory is also a globe. Upon repeated interaction in... act 4, i think, you get this:

(You see a spot on the globe where the paint has started wearing out, like someone kept dragging their finger on it.) (You drag your finger there too.) (Erased. You almost want to look for lightless paint.)

BOOKS

During the various quests to discover the truth of the loops, you run into a lot of books, written in the forgotten language. Now, Dormont is not close to the island. Dormont is not close to the coast.

Bambouche is. That's why Bonnie has heard about the island before and knows it was a big deal - they lived really close to it.

Bonnie (and then1): I think, I think my village was really close to it!!! My sister said it was all everyone could talk about for weeks!!! Mirabelle (anxious1): That's so frightening... I'm glad that whatever happened, she didn't get caught up in it!

As we can see in this map, Dormont is in the southern half of the country, and very centrally at that, meaning it has basically maximum distance from all waters and ports. So why does this landlocked small town have so many books in this language?

These aren't just dry books, either. In Dormont's library, there's actually a translated version of volume 2 of The Cursing of Chateau Castle.

(You take the book out again.) (You can read its title, now...) (Your heart is beating, badump, badump, badump.) (It's...) (... A translated copy of "The Cursing of Château Castle", issue #2.) (You start laughing.)

CONCLUSION OF THIS SECTION

Islanders lived in Dormont. Maybe even multiple! We've established that whoever is in Dormont when it vanished would not simply disapper, instead

they forgot where they're from.

One day, the islanders in Dormont could no longer remember being anywhere but Dormont. Being anything but Vaugardian. The observatory fell into disuse, as the person studying there gradually forgot what they used it for, even as they desparately tried to hold onto it, boring holes into the globe, and scribbling its name over and over until its unintelligible.

And, in all likelihood, eventually that knowledge was just gone forever. They simply became part of Dormont, none the wiser to their own history.

Books slipped into cracks. Rooms fell into disuse. Nobody remembered to clean out the remnants.

Now. The real cinch of this.

Why, in particular, do I think Euphrasie is one of them?

Answer me this, then.

How does Euphie know what Wish Craft is?

1. How could she read it?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft exists, when all books on it are written in a language nobody can read.

The book in the storage room? The diary in the room behind the star door? The book in the secret library? None of them are legible.

There are no legible records of Wish Craft.

2. What about the Favor Tree?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft is related to the Favor Tree. It's also a Vaugardian practice to make requests of the Favor Tree, but they're just that - requests. Nobody thinks they actually have power.

Only Euphrasie does. She thinks it's the key to defeating the King.

(This is... A list of people who wished to save Vaugarde!!!) (You look around her desk, trying to find out more.) (Why would she record the people who wished to save Vaugarde?) (... There!!!) (It's a little notebook, jammed between random boring paperwork...) (In it, the Head Housemaiden talks about Wish Craft... How in the days before the King attacked, she noticed everyone was wishing to the Favor Tree for the same thing:) (To save Vaugarde.) (And she started wondering if this wish could be the key to the King's defeat, somehow...) (So the Head Housemaiden knew about Wish Craft!!!)

Except, when Isabeau talks about it...

Isabeau: Well, it's just a random big tree. But when you're a believer of the House of Change, the biggest tree in a certain place is called a Favor Tree! It's like, it’s the tree with the most power, so you can ask it things? As a favor?

He struggles a little to explain it. Almost, as though the tradition came from some other culture, imported into Vaugarde, and no one can definetely remember where it came from.

To note, here, is that the Favor Tree is hugely associated with Loop, and wishes in general. Wishing on a Favor Tree is such a hugely powerful ritual when executed correctly, that it caused the entire timeloops.

And I'm not even gonna break out citations to prove that Wish Craft is associated with the island. Come on. You know that. You played the game. It's required to beat the game.

If you haven't beaten the game, what the fuck are you doing here. Go back and play it, baka.

3. Something's breaking, failing, rotting

At the end of ACT 4, when Siffrin confronts Euphrasie about her knowledge of Wish Craft, Euphrasie is distinctly aware of this: the people of Vaugarde are wishing wrong.

It's true. All of Vaugarde wished to the Favor Tree, wished for us to be saved. We wished for a savior. A way for us to win against the King. And Wish Craft gave us the means to do it, didn't it? Made sure it'd work? [...] But... But something went wrong, didn't it? Something goes wrong, every time!!! [...] The only answer I can find... Is it's because we did it wrong. I don't know what happened But we must've done it wrong!!! None of us in Vaugarde knew the exact ritual, but-- But we must have done it so wrong, it broke, and it doesn't answer to us at all anymore!!! [...] I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!!!

There's only one person who knew how to make a Wish correctly. And he made it by sheer instinct. Something they could not place even if they tried. Just... a forgotten ritual, dredged back up by muscle memory. Something he's probably been doing since he's a little kid, something that's so backed into their habits they use Wish Craft to carve figurines out of wood.

To end, I leave you with this. Dialogue you get when you try to talk to Euphrasie again, before you talked to everybody else.

If you talk to me... REALLY talk to me... It's all over. What "it" is, I have no idea... I know... I can feel that... I couldn't change whatever comes next, even if I wanted to. But I know it is the will of the Change God. Or, no, perhaps... The will of something even bigger... ... Something will end, once you talk to me.

There is a way for Euphrasie to know all of this. To know Wish Craft exists, to be aware she's doing it wrong, but not knowing, remembering quite enough to get it right.

If she knew it all beforehand already.

[fryingpan1234567]

superheroes and social media

do you KNOW how often I see a cute trend on ig or tiktok or anything and I’m just like “man that would be cute for (insert hero ship)”

but that’s an issue because like… putting your face on the internet is DANGEROUS🙅‍♂️

I had. an idea. to solve all the issues!

as fun as it is to imagine the RobinOfficial account having 4 million followers, I think it’s more fun for everyone to have accounts that only follow and allow following in the caped community

so basically Instagram for just superheroes

the ones whose identities are known can post their faces, and the ones who are still under the radar have a close friends list that consists of the people who do know them

a very few amount of people who aren’t heroes are allowed on this Super IG

including Lois Lane, whose entire presence is standard mom posts but with like. Superkids and other Kryptonians. you get it

uhh Bernard Dowd too but he only follows Tim and Steph

Alfred, who only posts the Manor and London with captions like poetry

Selina Kyle because she already had a regular account but B was like “oh that’s dangerous now that we’re affiliated”

she was like “well how am I supposed to fuel my ego with no instagram for people to thirst after me”

B sighed and was like “well,,,,,”

Harley Quinn fluctuates between being banned and interacting with EVERYONE’S content with offensive amounts of emojis

anyways tell me WHY Conner Kent has the most iconic page on the internet

it’s full of these aesthetic photo dumps and crackhead videos of YJ doing dumb shit

also Tim. he’s got chaotic gen z billionaire vibes and most of his stuff is on his close friends list because B doesn’t need to see the REALLY dumb shit he gets up to

yeah they’re both hot and yeah they’re both elite pages. but Kon’s is Sabrina Carpenter energy and Tim’s is P!ATD energy so they’re different flavors of slay

on the opposite end of the spectrum we’ve got B, who has four posts, all exactly 365 days apart

it’s the yearly Father’s Day family portrait

Dick Grayson does that millennial vlog thing but Not

“a day in the life of a 24 year old cop (who also happens to be a vigilante)”

also a compilation of clips of him jumping off buildings, some taken by him and some by other people

can you IMAGINE this dumbass with a gopro

Red Bull wants to sponsor him what can I say

he lets his favorite villains follow him

WHEN I TELL YOU BILLY BATSON HAS THE MOST FAMOUS PAGE OF ANYONE IN THE COMMUNITY

because he was a public figure ANYWAYS. this is the idiot who used to walk around charging people’s phones with his powers and taking selfies for cash. people know him

so Captain Marvel has this crazy account with him doing memes and slo mo compilations of him punching guys from his body cam

his most hit post is a video where he found a cop harassing a bunch of kids on the street (who he happened to KNOW) and without saying anything at first just kindaaaaa walked over and fried the cruiser’s entire inner workings

“yo, copper! I think somethin’s up with your system, man!”

while the cop was trying to figure out how to start his fucking car again, Billy herded the kids down the sidewalk and they all took off running, giggling like maniacs

Damian Wayne doesn’t post a lot, but when he does, it’s to match with Jon

I mean like taking pictures of each other from across the same table and the captions are each half of a whole song lyric, stuff like that

his personal favorite is actually their softlaunch— they found an entire wall of mirrors at the planetarium on a date, Jon had his right hand on Dami’s waist and the other in his pocket, and Dami was standing in front of him, holding the phone with his right and tilting Jon’s face down with his left to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. neither of their faces are in it and it was Damian’s wallpaper for a WHILE

my babies ANYWAYS

Diana Prince posts exclusively about her favorite ice cream shops

Bart is the kid whose note is always like “in the hospital👍” / “sick again” / “hate broken ribs I can’t eat seven burgers in this condition” / “got possessed by a death god again :/ third time this week” and it’s like jesus man can you catch a break

can you imagine finding fucking Superman has a verified instagram account but it’s private so you can’t even follow freaking SUPERMAN

Duke Thomas is thoroughly over his siblings’ shit and there’s a ton of videos of them being dumbasses with captions like “someone save me it’s two in the morning”

anyways A COMPILATION OF TRENDS

“nobody move, there’s blood on the floor” for LITERALLY any ship it’s so funny

“what? you’re not coming to my tea party? Bethany, I made BISCUITS” with increasingly low res crack pics of Red Hood falling off of things, generously edited and posted by Tim Drake

dance trends with Steph and Cass

“guess which outfit is whose” with Tim and Steph but they’re both in their Robin uniforms

Tim making a cringey thirst trap edit of Jason who in response posted a clip of Tim tripping his own gear and setting off an alarm

“wearing the same outfit so no one can tell us apart” and it’s all the Batkids in their Robin uniforms (most of which barely fit) ((Bruce and Alfred cried))

the Superkids did the same thing a few days later and dragged Clark into it

not-quite-thirst-traps where they just kinda stand there over music but everyone in normal comments would’ve gone crazy

calisthenics trends. Thanks

it’s like a THING between all the Titans where they’ll sneak up behind each other, yell “THIS IS SPARTA,” and kick each other off roofs

someone sneaking up behind Jason while he’s belting Seasons of Love

MOTORCYCLE CONTENT

somewhere out in the world there’s a shaky, blurry video of Robin, Superboy, Spoiler, Blue Beetle, and Beast Boy dancing to and half-singing-half-yelling Tell Your Girlfriend

if you think of any more social media trends or videos or pics you see that remind you of a hero tag me because I’m obsessed with the idea of these idiots on socials

[sgnarl]

sgnarl 2024 updated comm post

helllooo. i know i updated my commissions last in january, but ive honestly improved and done a lot of work this year, so i felt the comm post needed to be updated

before we get into the details....

as always, if you're ever curious about the progress on a commission, just ask for an update and i'll send you one.

character credits: @loveaankilaq / @anaelwings, @goldencamelias, @orcapologist, @bearliquids, @hobgobbin , @too-many-muses , @mightymessenger @odiletheswanqueen

i only accept payment upfront & i will not negotiate on paying after. payment info at the end of post

you can contact me right here on tumblr dot com, just DM me!

Full Body Character - 30$

Add character +10$

Add shading & lighting +10$

Price points for the background can be negotiated based on the level of detail required, or if they are a complete or partial background

Portrait - 30$

Portraits will always be rendered

They will always have a "decorated" background (simple shapes, colors, concepts, or designs)

Portraits will always be from the bust up

Full Canvas - 70$

The full canvas option can get a bit abstract. Basically, you just sit and talk with me about your character/s, their aesthetics, occupation, their lore, specific poses or concepts you want and then I go ham on the canvas

It will always include some level of shading and lighting & some level of background, whether it is a literal setting or a decorated/abstract background

The base price is 70$. However, if you'd like to add another character (as shown in the second example), it will be +10$, just as it is with the Full Body Character option.

If you're only curious and want to discuss this option, feel free to DM me, no strings attached

Concepts I Will Accept

✔️ - some robot/cyber/mech stuff (i really determine case-by-case), furry/anthro, non-humanoid creatures, fantasy, sci fi, OCs, weapons, blood, nudity/suggestive

✔️ - some fandoms I'm familiar with are D&D, Marvel & DC comics/movies, Assassin's Creed, Disco Elysium, ATLA, Metalocalypse, The Wolf Among Us. I'm capable of doing any fandom artwork with sufficient references & have done so in the past

Concepts I Won't Accept

❌ - hateful imagery, underage/abusive/incest ships, certain fandoms (Harry Potter, Voltron, Supernatural are among these), gore, and ofc I reserve the right to deny anything

paypal: thundahouse

NSFW comm post (minors DNI this link)

Further various examples below

Furry/Creature

Full Canvas

Full Body

^ non standing poses can count as full body commissions

[verlaineszz]

hi!! Can you write a yandere ghost dazai x human fem reader fic?

A/N: of course!! (✦ ‿ ✦) I've been actually meaning to write a ghost dazai but a yandere? Oohhhhh sounds great! :D, thanks for submitting this lovely request of yours anon(≧▽≦)!

YOUR SILHOUETTE A PALE MIST, BURY ME IN YOUR KISS!

ᯓ ⁺₊ ๋࣭ ⭑♡— YANDERE! GHOST! Dazai X HUMAN FEM! Reader!

𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ SUMMARY: Nearby a forest, there was a 1862 Victorian Mansion that still had strong walls and doors that stood strong against winds and storms. But there was something weird about the home, the past owners of the home were either found dead or moved out for good after just a week.

It was rumoured that it was haunted by a vengeful spirit, but no one dared to banish it or call in a priest.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ☠︎︎— HORROR + ANGST + SUGGESTIVE(?) + FLUFF

A/N: FINALLY A NORMAL REQUEST!! anyway, this fanfic may be abit long but apologies since you never really specified your preference for the fic but I'll try!! :D i haven't written yandere in a year so let's see what i can do. （＾ω＾）

𓂃 ࣪˖ ༒︎— WARNINGS : Blood, Death, Suggestive (?) , cursing, SLIGHT(???) GORE

You were currently moving in the old 1862 Victorian Mansion that was rumored to be haunted, obviously it was sold pretty cheap through the online site and the decor of it was absolutely marvelous, which made you not even care if it was haunted or not.. It was so cheap and so beautiful that how could you not buy it?..

The boxes of your things are already in your home and all you have to do is to unpack. You started unpacking and moving things around.

During your little unpacking session, you were gonna walk up the stairs but notice that there was this portrait shape that was covered with a red cloth that wasn't shown in the pictures online, you put the boxes down and decided to remove the cloth. When you slowly slipped the red cloth off the big portrait, there showed a man wearing a white jabot, blue and gold coat and a soft smile. This made you take a step back and look up and down to analyze the painting, the painting of the ridiculously attractive man.. Weird as hell!

You scoff and turn around to continue unpacking your things, but the second you turned around, you felt a pair of eyes watching you. You ignored the feeling and continue unpacking.

While you were unpacking, dazai— the phantom of the house that is the original owner of the home was watching you, it was new to him.. A female unmarried tenant? This might be his best bet to scare the living shit of you, since he hasn't gotten a female tenant yet.

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

The unpacking was done and you were visibly tired, immediately crashing on the red floral patterned couch that was in the living room. The whole place looked old but aesthetically pleasing. There was a fireplace, a grand piano, a grandfather clock, bookshelf and a coffee table with a wood vase of belledonna. You sigu and cross your legs, tilting your headback, this scene wasn't unnoticed by the ghost of dazai osamu. He was watching you with curious intent, he was sure that he'd have you dead or gone in no time since he never liked anybody living in his home. But since you were.. Really pretty.. Why not toy with you for a bit before placing your life in a casket?

During the first night, you were there on the bed in your new room, scrolling on your phone before looking at the time, it was 9:56 pm..you gotta take a shower before going to bed since you had work tomorrow. You stood up and removed your clothing before grabbing a robe and entering the bathroom, you turn the water on and began showering, as you showered, you still felt a creep run down your spine, as if you were being watched.

In dazai point of view, he was staring at your bare face, he smirked and checked you up and down.. Seeing your hips, thighs, waist.. And... He chuckled silently, seeing you showering without a clue that you were being watched, he quickly left and decided to give you some privacy.

After showering, you slid into a thin night gown before laying down on the canopy bed and scrolling on your phone, but as you laid down it felt strangely cold, the windows were closed so how could this be cold? You wondered before the bedside lights started ti flicker, but you quickly dismissed it as old house quirks— "must be some random Victorian magic or something.." you mutter before you continue scrolling on your phone, dazai continued to observe you in the shadows, sometimes moving places from time to time to look like shadows were moving which you unfortunately did not notice.

He pouted as he noticed that you didn't see the subtle appearances he did before planning of a way to get a reaction out of you.

You put down your phone and decided to sleep, it was now 10:23 and you really needed sleep. You stare at the canopy beds ceiling before slowly closing your eyes, your chest rising up and down slowly, a sight that dazai found warm. He stared at you with a grin as the moonlight through the window shined upon your body.

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧+

When you woke up, you felt like a hand was playing with you hair.. You immediately sat up straight and looked around, feeling spooked before taking a deep breath and getting out of bed to get ready to go to work then meet up with your boyfriend.

Whem you left, dazai stayed there, thinking about how to scare you even more, so when you left, he rearranged some of the stuff in yours house, small mischievous giggles came out of his mouth while doing so.

A few hours later.. The second you arrive back home and bring in your boyfriend, dazais expression from afar turned im disgust, obviously he didn't like other men in his house, especially when the man was with you when he just got a pretty lady in his humble abode!

your boyfriend wasn't really the most supportive person in the world or nicest.. He was just there, you didn't even know how you and him managed to get together when the whole relationship only felt one sided.

"This place looks.. Err.. Old.. You like this shit?" your boyfriend asked with a unimpressed look.

This left dazai pissed since he wasn't only in his house and taking you away from him but he was also insulting your choice in houses..

You and your boyfriend walked up the stairs to your room for some alone time, he sat there on your bed in a reckless way, he just laid there like he owned the place. He scrolled on his phone as you sit beside him on the right side of the bed and hug his arm, your boyfriend clearly couldn't care less which made dazai grumble silently in the corner of darkness.

You and your boyfriend were.. "cuddling" on your bed as he scrolled on his phone, probably lookin at other women before dazai got fed up and whispered something in his left ear to scare him— "get out, you scum."

Your boyfriends eyes widens a little, looking at you with a pretty annoyed look, "did you just call me something?.." he looked at you, visibly pissed, pushing your arm away from him. "What?? I didn't?" you replied back with an innocent look, dazai watched the scene, not wanting to resort to something else to not scare you away from him, he looks at your innocent face, though he can see you, both of you amd your boyfriend couldn’t see him.

"yeah right." your boyfriend scoffed, moving you away from him before he continue scrolling back on his phone, dazai clearly picked up that your boyfriend did not get the memo.

A few minutes later, your boyfriend stands up, eyes glued to his phone— "im gonna go find the bathroom."

When he found the bathroom, he did his business and started to wash his hands, The bathroom had a bathtub with gold stands, a small chandelier, a mirror, a silver faucet and a white and gold marbled sink, on the sink was some soap and a razors. The lights started suddenly flickering, your boyfriend scoffed in Annoyance. "why the hell did that bitch buy such a shabby old house..?!" he muttered while washing his hands before met with a cold feeling behind him, he ignored the feeling but it was obviously lingering. His eyes were just on his hands as he washed and washed and washed, he kept coating his hands with soap as he continue rubbing violently, the lights started flickering more frantically. "fuck"

A whisper was heard from behind your boyfriends back, "off", your boyfriend gulps as he washed his hands more violently, he couldn't move. He couldn't look up. He didn't wanna look at the mirror infront of him to see what was behind. "scum."

Your boyfriends eyes widens as he started to shake, he felt a hand wrap around his throat tightly, he looked up and saw nothing behind him but he felt something wrapped around his neck that was choking him. He coughed and coughed but when he looked down back to the running water and his hands, his hands were bleeding. Most of his hands skin was torn off, he looked at what he was holding and it was the blades. He hasn't been washing his hands the whole time.. He was getting cut.

He immediately sprinted out the bathroom, leaving the water and light on. You heard the opening of door bang againts the wall, you stood up from your bed and looked outside your room, by the time you went ouside your room, you saw your boyfriend sprint out of your house. "Hey! Wait! Where are you going!!" you yelled with a concerned tone, but when you yelled it, he was already gone. Your eyebrows furrowed in disappointment, your shoulders slumped, not understanding why he just left all of the sudden.

Dazai on the other hand was overjoyed. He even turned the sink and lights off for you to not waste water and electricity. Ah.. Only if you knew what he did.. He just saved you from your little toxic relationship, he really wanted to hear your voice praise him.

The day after that, you tried texting your boyfriend to only be met with blocked profiles and one messags, "we're done."

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

The haunting within your home escalates, multiple of your things was dissappearing or either misplaced somewhere.. There were nights where you'd be on your phone scrolling while comfortably laid down on your bed where you could hear whispers. It was either your name or threats— "Get out." - "[Your name], [Your name]"

It was a smooth deep voice that whispered subtly in your ear that gave you chills running down your spine, this honestly frightened you but you already paid full and moved all your stuff in so there was no way a little ghost or hallucination was gonna make you move out! Especially since this might've been the reasom why your son of a bitch boyfriend broke up with you, so.. why not keep the house?

The more you didn't budge through dazais antics, the more you pique dazais interest and attraction. You laid there on your bed, scrolling through your phone as you felt the vacant part of your bed get cold. You sigh— "does it always get cold whenever im not around?.." you mutter, still quite sad from the newly break up text before going back on your phone, suddenly one of your coats that was hung on the coat hanger on the side of room fell, you sigh in Annoyance and stood up, putting it back before you were met with a hand caressing your waist, "eek!" you squeeled before turning around to be met with.. Nothing.

You immediately ran back to your bed, hiding under the covers and forcing yourself to sleep, you stayed under the blankets, eye open and thinking about the situation. You're very sure now that it wasn't hallucinations and there really was something in your home, but the hand.. It felt human. It was cold but soft and gentle, not like the hands of your ex boyfriend.. You thought about more of the relationship between you and your boyfriend and realize that he never actually exchanged touches with you.. You were the one always handing it out but he never gave it back, this made your stomach hurl and you slowly slipped the blanket off of your upper body for air.. You stared at the canopy beds ceiling and tears left your eyes, "that bastard.." you mutter as you cried, you suddenly covered your face with your hands and groaned, turning to your side and cried in anger and sorrows.

The same gentle hands were on your waist, the hands that caressed you with deep devotion that you've never experienced before.. This is what you craved for.. You turn around and see nothing, you look around and you sit up, the room was dimly lit by the moonlight, casting a silvery glow over the old furniture. You wipe your tears before hearing a deep suave voice— "Don't cry now, bella.. Don't let tears stain your pretty face."

You feel your breath bunch up in your throat, "who are you?.." you mutter, trying to hide your fear.

"mm.. Nobody." dazai replies back, his voice was everywhere.. You couldn't tell where it was coming from.. If it was from left, right, front or from behind, the non visible hand on your waist slowly went down, giving a small squeeze to your hips before you woke up.

The sun was raised high as you looked at your window, you sit up and rub your eyes.. Was it all just a dream? Why did it felt so real? And why did you crave more of those little touches?..

The little touches that dazai gave you was subtle but full of devotion, he didn't even know that he would become so intrigued by you this quickly that he wanted to watch your every single move. He looked at you staring at nothing, perhaps you were in deep thought in his eyes..

He loved the way your lips would turn into a smile, he loved how your brows would furrow, he loved the way you breathed, the way you talked, the way you move, it was all fascinating to him.. He has been alone and lonely in the Victorian Mansion without any suitors..and you were visibly his type.

You started off you day with breakfast then taking a shower, you take off your clothes and looked at the mirror before hanging your towel, just when you were gonna turn around, you see a figure with brunette hair with their elbow on the sink edge and resting their face against their palm in a flash, you look back but nothing was there. You shrugged it off and continue to take a shower.

After showering and getting ready, you researched about the mansion and learned that there was an earl who used to own it but unfortunately died due to a murder, his name was dazai osamu, he was known to be popular amongst the ladies back in the 1860's before he died in 1872. You checked the pictures of him and it was exactly like the portrait by the stairs..

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

Every single night became intimate, you always saw him in your dreams and you always felt like you were getting watched.. Which turned invasive, dazai just wanted every part of you.

Night after night, he always gave you touch without showing hisself, but you already knew what he looked like through the painting.. But what made you feel guilty was that you couldn't touch him back, though his touches were random at night, it still gave you chills.

You lay calmly on your bed, you stare at the canopy beds ceiling as the nonvisible hand moves the hair out of your face, this was weird.. And you knew you needed to end it some way somehow.

Dazais feelings of making you stray away or die were now completely gone, he just wanted you by his side. He wanted you to be his.

You move to your side and look up, only to be met with a young man with brunette hair, brown eyes and a gentle smile. Your eyes widens and you look at him, was this really him?.. He grins and he caresses your cheek, "Do you enjoy my company, bella?" he asked in a soft suave tone, your eyes quickly relaxes as you slightly blush— "i guess so."

RING! RING! RING! Aw.. It was your stupid alarm, you open your eyes and look to the side to be met with nothing.. This was the first time you genuinely saw his face up close in real life.. You sigh and get ready for your day to go back to work.

You get ready and go down the stairs, trying to find your keys.

Dazai on the other hand, was holding your keys, he didn't want you Going anywhere. You looked and looked and looked.. But to no avail, nothing. Your workplace was pretty far and since you were near the woods, little to no cabs were around so you decided to call in sick. You began undressing, removing your work clothes and slipping into something more comfortable...

Dazais plans were to stop you from leaving the house in every single possible way. Night falls dark and the moon had risen up, leaving a pale glow outside, you were currently trying to think of what houses would be possible to stay in to finally escape the ghost who played games with you but as you were thinking on your bed, you went on your laptop and you scrolled on homes that were available, while you were scrolling, the laptop immediately closed as a hand wrapped around your waist, feeling a cold aura behind you. "what were you looking at bella?" he rests his chin on your shoulder, you sat there frozen before turning to him and being met with his pretty face.. His pale skin and brunette hair was a criminal combination, his face was so close to yours as he hugged you tightly from behind.

"..." you couldn't muster up a sentence.. "You aren't thinking about leaving me.. Are you [Your name]?.." he looked at you with pretty eyes.

"i.. Was just looking at houses." you replied back with a half life half truth statement. Dazai clinged onto you, it felt oddly comforting.. "You know im just here to protect you, Right? I'll treat you waaay better than that little ex of yours, my dear." he whispered in your ear in a possesive tone, blush crept up to your cheeks as he held you tightly, you looked at him and his gaze fell onto your lips, he examined your pretty face, though he was dead, he felt oddly giddy because he gets to hold you while your pretty face was close to his.

"You'll stay with me, got it? You're mine and no one else's."

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

Dazais desire to be with you turned insanely strong, so strong that be believed in something obsessive, every day he'd find ways to try and painlessly take your life without even realizing it, you already knew. You walked around the halls in your home knowing that at any second, the ghost who haunted you could come and just swoop you, you were confused why he wanted to kill you? You thought he loved you.. So why did he want to kill you?

You decided to confront him about it. As soon as it hit nightfall, you laid down on your bed and waited for his presence to immerge since his energy was stronger during night, as you feel his soft cold hands touch you waist, you grab his hand and turn to him, "What the hell have you been trying to do..!?" you ask in an angered confused tone.

He looks at you with slightly wide eyes before reverting back to normal, "oh whatever do you mean bella?" he tried to play it off.

"Why have you been trying to kill me!?"

"... I love you okay? I'm doing all of this for you." he said sternly, holding your hand softly and kissing peppering it with kisses.

Eventually the two of you broke out into a fight, though he tried to explain hisself, he really didn't wanna fight you. He just wanted you to understand that all he has done was for you. And he wanted for you to understand.

He gripping onto your waist, burying his face on the nape of your neck, his expression soft but disappointed..

"you really dont understand, don't you? I love you. And i'll do anything just to have you as mine."

His tone was low but it gave a hint of obsession.

"Please. Just dont go.. I- i can't keep being alone in this place. You're all i have." he muttered, his voice slightly whiny but full of sorrows as he held you tighter.

You felt awful, he loved you like no other and treated you better than anyone of your exes, though he was dead, he would love to kiss your lips again and again.

He held onto you tightly as you kept quiet, sighing before replying back— "If you keep this up, I'll move out. I'm serious."

Dazais eyes widens and the words that left your lips broke him since his body was buried under his house, his soul couldn't leave the mansion whatsoever, "Please! I can't lose you. Not now, not ever! Please! Give me a chance!" he gripped onto your clothing, "i love you more than my own existence, you're the only thing keeping me feel alive again and sane in this place, this place feels like an asylum! Don't.. Go." his voice cracked as he pleaded for you, tears was already beaded on his tear ducts, he didn't want you to go, he felt lost like some puppy, he just wanted you to stay with him, eternally.

He was so obsessed that he wanted to bind your soul with his so you could be his, together and forever in the afterlife.

A/N: originally, i was planning to make dazai kill reader but today i wanted to leave a cliffhanger. Thank you for reading and i really enjoyed this request!! :D I'll try to get into more yandere themes so i could do better in the future, thanks again anon for this lovely request of yours （＾ω＾）

© All works by @Verlaineszz. Do not copy, redistribute, or repost on other platforms.

[godbirdart]

Do you have any specific process to get ideas for your backgrounds in your character pinup drawings how do you manage to make them all so awesome and cool

thank you so much! the way I like to tackle these is to think of them as if they're the character's splash art in a gacha game while also taking elements and rules from magazine covers.

now, I use the term "gacha game splash art" kinda loosely here, as that kind of art often depicts contained scenes or flourishes of elemental power. what I mainly focus on is how splash art showcases the character's personality within that contained art piece or scene.

I want everything in the piece I draw to reflect and correlate to the character itself. any accessories, text and elements are always taken into consideration. for this i'll often look closer to the character, their toyhouse page / bio, or sometimes even the client themselves if i'm familiar with them or have worked with them repeatedly before.

for example, archie here is an arcanine. I've utilized this for the background header, where you'll see arcanine's in-game category, pokedex number, type, body shape icon, as well as one of its abilities: flash fire. there's also a fire type icon.

another example is afol's piece. the client had specific ideas in mind for this art - particularly in the emotion and expression the art is meant to portray. I really wanted to incorporate this quote from afol's toyhouse profile as I felt it added to that raw, conflicted emotion the client was after.

as afol is a musician and a sky god, I also wanted to highlight it by adding "GODOFSKY - The Sky God's Solo Suite" as an artist / song title signature that again could tie into that emotional conflict.

the magazine aesthetic is something sort-of new to these pieces, with afol's piece having more of that distinct cover vibe than earlier ones; however I've been taking notes from magazine covers from the start.

I always have to make sure text and accents don't take away from the character, or cover them up or clutter the canvas too much. you'll see this a lot on magazines, how the title is always the largest text with everything else being much smaller or thinner. i follow similar composition rules when drawing. keep the model as the focus, and add things around them as needed to break up negative space and balance out the art. in my portraits, the character's name is always the largest text.

beyond these conscious choices - i dunno! my clients always come to me with fantastic prompts that mesh well with what I vibe with artistically.

i love being handed a few prompts and told to run free with them, and i love when clients come to me looking for a specific aesthetic or emotional piece. i absolutely adore drawin smug and confidently villainous gremlins, but some of my all-time favourite pieces to draw are the ones with a lot of raw emotion in em.

honestly i think a lot of the coolness comes down to my clients just havin cool characters to begin with lmao

[justporo]

Bookcases

A comment and a comment reblog inspired a thought (thank you!) - @kruczecycki and @notabot2.

Let me try and paint a picture for you that I feel like might represent Astarion as well as his aesthetic:

Astarion always had had a thing for, well - things. But of course they weren't just things. They were works of art, they were memories, they were opportunities, they were collectibles.

And one of his favourite kinds of things had always been: books. So once he'd had the opportunity, he'd gotten bookcases - up to the ceiling, filling a whole wall. And maybe even a whole room sometime. Because they filled up so quickly.

It wasn't a single genre dominating but rather an eclectic collection of everything that peaked the vanpire's interest. Poetry, history, novels of all kinds (and of course every Drizzt book he could find), journals, collections of letters, even encyclopaedias.

To the untrained eye, it might have been nothing but chaos because it followed no definite order. But it wasn't a mess at all. Astarion always knew where everything was. For every book, he could tell you where and when he'd gotten it and give you at least an outline of what it was about.

Every single volume was always handled with care, no matter if it looked (and probably was) centuries old or was brand new. But still every book was meant to be taken out, to be read and experienced, not only to be looked at in its neat place high up on the shelf.

Between and in front of the books, where the space would allow, there were more things. Little things, pretty things. Things that were aesthetic to look at or things that reminded him of pleasant memories. A small bronze statue, a mechanical clock under a glass cover ticking away, a small portrait painting of no one really, a framed old map of Baldur’s Gate, pressed exotic flowers. In some places you had added little somethings for him as well: a plant maybe and a small painting you had gotten painted of the two of you, a neatly lettered version of his favourite poem in a frame.

Whenever you looked at Astarion's bookcases you were immediately ensnared, very much similar to how it felt with the man himself: you didn't even know where to look first. It felt like you could never posssibly take in all the beauty at once.

There was just so much interesting and beautiful stuff, so many intricate details, so many various titles. You could've easily gotten lost in every single one of them. And that was what added so much to the beauty: on the surface, it was incredible to look at, but it was so much more! There was also so much depth and such a caleidoscope of different aspects, each asking to be explored and admired. Every single one of them worthy of your undivided, loving attention.

You liked watching Astarion add more things to his bookcases, as much as to himself: new treasures, different pages, fresh ideas. And then you also loved to listen to him talk about his latest additions and why they were so interesting to him.

Another thing you enjoyed to do was to just look at the huge collection. Tilting your head to read all the titles and softly letting your fingertips wander over the spines: old and new, cracked and broken, smooth and flat. Then sometimes you would slide one of the huge tomes or several smaller books out of their designated places - you knew you were always welcome to go explore. You liked to snuggle up with them on a nearby seat, getting lost in them for a while with your legs swung over the side of the chair. Maybe find your way into a new world or looking at a new perspective of your own.

But it was even better when you did that together with Astarion. Let him suggest several different possible books to possibly pick. Watch his face light up when he started to talk about them.

And then snuggling up together on the couch, getting cosy and letting Astarion read something to you. Maybe learning something new, find about something you hadn't known before or just enjoying an absolutely made up story - and always learning about and starting to love a new aspect of your vampire.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess

[laylajeffany]

Llama, Llama Baby Drama | Wenclair One-Shot for @based7100

Summary: Enid gets an emergency call to babysit on a date night. When Wednesday shows up with intentions of having it anyway, they have a much-needed conversation about their future. (separate from my established Wenclair universe in CftF or Black Menagerie) WC: 4,979 (STILL UNDER 5K OKAY) Rated: All Ages

trigger warning: a baby

Prompted by @based7100, "Wednesday and Enid having the do you want kids talk" as part of my >5k writing (post-taxes) challenge

“Why is it sticky?” Wednesday asked with a grimace as Enid tickled the baby that was perched on her hip. The infant gave a loud squeal of laughter that drew a deeper cringe from Wednesday at the sudden pitch.

“She is sticky because she just ate, and I didn’t want you breaking and entering and setting off the home alarm! You’re lucky I have werewolf hearing, otherwise I would have made you be the one to settle her down.” Enid said with a smile of exasperation, opening the door wider, allowing Wednesday entry to a townhouse. Enid pressed buttons on a keypad when Wednesday came into the doorway of the space with some agitated trepidation. Monsters, serial killers – entering the lair of either would’ve brought her glee, but entering the space of an eight-month-old was like being dropped into a hostile landscape without adequate preparation.

She noted Enid in her stocking feet and untied her boots, staring up at Enid and the little she with unblinking eyes, attempting to assert her dominance in the small person’s home. Enid just rolled her own and gave Wednesday a peck on the cheek as she stood tall again, clutching her backpack strap. Enid looked at the entryway clock and added, “I’m going to get her cleaned up – it’s close enough to time – I’m going to get her in the bath if you wanna just make yourself comfortable! You’re like, forty minutes early, so don’t blame me that you’re bored!” The baby stuck her entire fist into her mouth, gurgling while a trail of saliva slipped her all the way down to her elbow. Again, Wednesday was sure she made a face, unable to help her disgust.

Make yourself comfortable was quite a loaded statement, as Wednesday didn’t have a portable bed of nails handy. She and Enid had their third Saturday night date cancelled in a row; the last minute “emergency” babysitting request coming through from a Normie family she’d made friends with in Jericho (really, Wednesday considered grandma falling down the stairs more of a coming of age event than an emergency) dampening a makeup date from a makeup date. Unable to tolerate three weeks in a row of a Saturday night without her girlfriend, Wednesday had cautiously accepted the invitation to come over after the baby was in bed. The child’s mother had said that was acceptable – and though she feared becoming a 80s movie babysitter cliché of making out on the couch while there was a killer outside, she’d taken the chance as the next week was supposed to be just as busy for the seniors at the end of their school year as they’d all been. (It was unlikely the house had a landline for anyone to ask if Enid had checked on the baby, anyway.)

Enid disappeared with her down the hall, using a different tone in her voice than usual to talk to the baby, who obviously couldn’t comprehend what she was saying regardless of her cadance. Staring after them for a long minute, Wednesday gave a tiny blink and took a look around – finding a stereotypical portrait of a family sitting in a field of leaves with their infant from the fall. The picture-perfect matchy-matchy white, suburban American aesthetic completely draining her before she even properly entered the home.

Exiting the foyer into the living area, she recoiled a touch at the explosion of color and plastic toys. Wishing she’d brought Thing to put him to work, she thought about perching herself on the edge of the wooden rocker in the room, not touching anything when she realized – if she didn’t pick up the toys while Enid was picking up the baby, it would just be that much longer before they’d be able to sit together on the plush loveseat under the window.

Wednesday let out a silent sigh, dropping her shoulders, taking a sharp glance around trying to figure out the organizational method when she realized – there wasn’t one. Unable to tolerate such a disaster, she began sorting the toys into piles, little rubbery blocks with forever chemicals laced into them together, tiny plastic people that probably had lead in the paint, and stuffed animals that had polyurethane filling which would outlive them all.

She found a few collapsible baskets that had never been put together near a stack of unopened mail on a bench, keeping everything separate as she got it off the floor. She rolled up the blankets, then went so far as to wipe down the tabletop when she couldn’t identify the crusty material that was gathered on top, using a deplorable smelling baby wipe.

It seemed like Enid at least hadn’t been forced to make anything for the baby, as there was just a spoon and a little plate in the sink and cleaning off the high chair tray. (Wednesday could handle blood spatter, entrails, and digging through bones, but honestly – the mush and droll were going to push her over the edge.) After putting everything that seemed dirty in the dishwasher, Wednesday followed the sounds of splashing and giggles to the bathroom down the hall.

Enid was on her knees in front of a tub, where the baby was in some sort of special seat. Not sure if she needed to avert her gaze for privacy, Wednesday almost disappeared but Enid shook her head, “You can come in! It’ll be a few minutes. Bailey loves to play in the water!”

Bailey. That was surely, the name of a dog, not a human child. Certainly – not an adult someday who needed to enter the workforce someday.

Avoiding yet another dramatic sigh out her nose, Wednesday hovered, her arms crossed as she stared the child down, who dropped her silly little face full of joy at the leer. Bailey frowned severely, suddenly – and Wednesday took the cue to leave, wandering into the baby’s nursery.

The room was surprisingly neutral, which Wednesday did appreciate with the lack of stereotypical pink. The baby’s crib was simple, and though Wednesday might’ve joked about smothering Enid in her sleep the first day they’d met, she knew that it was important to just keep a fitted sheet on so the baby didn’t manage to do so to themselves. There was a second rocking chair – a glider, in the corner, a small bookshelf, overflowing with titles, a dresser that seemed to be doubling as a changing table, based on the diapering supplies, and a few unopened boxes of toys that she probably wasn’t developmentally prepared to play with stacked in the corner. The walls had simple wooden, cut-out letters that read the girl’s name, and three photos above the dresser of her with the family, a few peel-and-stick bunnies at her eye-level beneath them.

Wednesday squatted down to examine the child’s literature selection, shaking her head in disapproval. How did they expect to raise a well-rounded child if she lacked the classics? There wasn’t a Homer, Miguel de Cervantes, Shakespeare, Stephen King, or even a single Orwellian novel on display. Her own father had been sure to get through all of the works of Poe and War and Peace before Wednesday had even left the womb!

Pulling out a few titles that didn’t sound horrendous, Wednesday shook her head at the modern children’s literature; thinking it was a damn shame that some of the best sellers clearly had no concept of rhythm. What a chore some of the books would be to have to read aloud, a near burden and waste of a tree’s time on earth.

She sat in the glider with a stack, ready to provide Enid with what she hoped would be interpreted as a humorous, critical review of some of the books, when her girlfriend came in with the baby all wrapped up in a towel, cheeks rosy – but significantly cleaner. “Forgive me, baby Bailey – I was so rude not to properly introduce you. This is Wednesday. Don’t mind the glare, that’s her friendly one.”

Wednesday was about to start her joke reception of Brown Bear, Brown Bear but Enid kept talking. She took out a yellow onsie with ducks on it, placing Bailey on her back on the changing pad, giving that same high, fake voice that was just so grating, even from someone she loved. “Okay, sweet baby – let’s get all dry…yeah, we’ll dry your little feet-feet-feet,” The baby kicked and laughed while Enid kept going, rubbing the towel along her. “And your legs-legs-legs,” She shifted into sing-song, “And your belly-belly-belly, and your arms-arms-arms…”

It went on for so long. Wednesday just continued to watch the spectacle, as she started with a disposable diaper and then worked her into the front-zipper pair of baby pajamas. “All done!” She waved her hands in a way that Wednesday knew was sign-language, and the baby copied it. Enid kissed her all over her face, making Baily whirl in happy sounds and Wednesday was sure, she was glowering, unable to help her jealousy – even if it was a baby she was being paid to watch getting Enid’s physical and emotional attention.

Finally, Enid completed the scene, looking at Wednesday with a seriously sort of expression. “We’re almost done. Can you hang in there?” She asked, using nearly the same voice that she had for the baby. Practically growling, she was about to stand up, when Enid developed an evil sort of twinkle in her eye and came forward, depositing Bailey suddenly onto Wednesday’s lap. Thankfully – she had some sort of protective instinct, and her reflexes kicked in before she could let the baby fall backwards. She went to make a snide, argumentative comment, but Enid just wasn’t having it. “Start reading to her, I’ll make her bottle, and we can be done in half the time.”

“Enid – I can’t –!?”

“Read?” She teased sassily, putting her hands on her hips, perching a brow. “Nice try. Here, she loves this one,” She reached down to a paperback (the very feeling of the thin cardboard cover making Wednesday’s skin crawl) with a worried looking farm animal on top.

Before she could protest again, Enid adjusted Bailey more in Wednesday’s lap, putting her back closer to her chest. Bailey looked at Wednesday with as much certainty as she returned, looking like she was about to cry. “Start reading and she’ll totes be fine.”

“Enid, I swear –”

At the empty threat, Enid dashed out of the room and down the hall. Wednesday let out a breath, grumbling, “Llama, Llama, Red Pajama…creative. Endlessly, creative.”

With a sigh, she started to read and Bailey settled at the familiar rhyme. Wednesday followed through, managing to go for the first few pages until she read, “Llama, Llama, red pajama feels alone without his mama. Baby Llama wants a drink…oh, no. No, no, no. This Llama is playing games with his caregiver and she needs to ignore him before she develops horrific behavior cycles that take years to break. Next thing she knows, she’s going to have nine-year-old llama walking in on mama and dada llama fornicating and traumatizing him like Pugsley because they never put an end to his bedtime drama. Oh, llama, drama – I suppose that’s nearly clever.”

Sighing, she flipped through the pages to find that indeed, the mother gave into the child’s tantrum and Wednesday snapped the book shut. Reaching into a stack, she pulled out another title. “Fine, Corduroy. At least Lisa understands that the value of something doesn’t lay necessarily in the perceived perfection of it, but in what it means to the individual. This is a better message for you to internalize.”

With that, she found herself actually gliding the chair back and forth, starting and finishing the story. Bailey yawned and gave a clap at the end, looking up at Wednesday, squeezing her hands open and shut.

Enid gave an amused chuckle from the doorway, shaking a bottle. “It’s right here, sweet girl.” Bailey kicked her little feet and reached her hands for it. Enid gave her the bottle and she held it with one hand, using the other to twirl at her own, light-brown hair as her eyes instinctively went half shut, but turned back to the book. Wednesday tried to hand her over, but Enid winked. “I think you’ve got this. Look, she’s relaxing on you!”

“I don’t like this,” Wednesday grumbled, but didn’t fight it too hard, not wanting to make the baby choke. In general, she wasn’t about to be the good Samaritan to help somebody experiencing that in public, as it seemed like a solid natural consequence, but she didn’t want to be the reason that Enid lost her babysitting gig. (She stubbornly refused to always allow Wednesday to pay for things and insisted on odd jobs around town to make her own money.)

“You’re doing great,” Enid promised, kneeling at her side, putting a hand on Wednesday’s knee. “It’s good to challenge yourself to do things that make you uncomfortable.”

She flickered her gaze down to the hand on her knee, wishing it were elsewhere on her body… “Give me another book,” She demanded as the baby was practically guzzling her bedtime bottle.

With two more selections (far better choices for her interest level of reading aloud to an infant – though she swore, if she ever ended up coming again, she’d bring some proper literature), Wednesday closed the third story up and looked at Enid, who was looking at her with…

…fondness? Desire? She couldn’t quite read the emotion. As the baby finished, Wednesday passed her over to Enid, where she curled instinctively into her neck, holding onto her shoulder with a contented sigh. Watching the sight herself for a long moment, she started to feel a strange discomfort and took the empty bottle, excusing herself as Enid started to pat her back and rock her to sleep.

With simple deduction in the kitchen that the bottle required to be hand-washed, Wednesday completed the task, then found Enid’s phone on counter. Unlocking it and logging into her own account for a food delivery application, she placed an order for a local favorite that was still open at the evening hour, and wrote threatening instructions not to knock or ring the bell. If that baby woke once it was placed in the crib, so help her…

It was hardly ten minutes later that Enid stepped out of the room with a little monitor in her hand, placing it on the end table that had little rubber bumpers on the corners, giving a stretch and a yawn before looking at the stiff-sitting Wednesday fondly.

“Hey,” She greeted, plopping herself down on the loveseat, turning right into her.

“Howdy,” Wednesday spoke in reply. “Is the small gremlin asleep?”

Rolling her eyes again, Enid put a hand on Wednesday’s cheek, turning it towards her to press a long, sweet kiss on her lips. “She’s out. Thanks to your help. I appreciate it.”

“I have been told I have a soothing reading voice,” Wednesday spoke of herself, squaring her shoulders a little bit. “I would still prefer to have been at the steakhouse and then stargazing in the cemetery with you, though.”

“I know,” Enid wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry. I’d usually say no to a same day request – but nana in the E.R. is a pretty valid reason. Imagine poor Bailey stuck there with them all night? She’d have been miserable.”

“You seem to do a good job at keeping her happy. I claim she’s still sticky, though.”

“Wednesday, she’s a baby,” Enid gave a tired chuckle, leaning back on the couch, intertwining their hands. “Thank you for being willing to even come over. I thought you might give me the silent treatment tonight.”

“I considered it,” She said honestly. “But…with time fleeting from us so quickly these days, only a month left until graduation – it seems prudent to spend as much time together as we possibly can, even if it includes minors.”

“Hopefully it’s a one-time thing. I told Bailey’s mama when I got here, I think that emergencies-pending, I’m tapping out for the rest of the year. There’s way too much fun left to be had and I don’t want to regret missing out for cash.”

“As I have repeatedly insisted, it is unnecessary. But I understand the desire to be productive and contribute to capitalism in your own way. I do hope you told her, she’s not allowed to have any emergencies next weekend.”

Giving almost a purr of a sound, Enid traced Wednesday’s jaw. “Not when I’ve convinced you to be my date to the Dark Prom.”

“As if I’d let you go alone,” Wednesday let out a little breath through her nose. “I’ve ordered dinner, so we can still have a touch of our date tonight as well.”

“Thank you,” Enid said quietly, kissing her again. “Hey…while we wait for that…let’s chat, since the topic is indirectly here, anyway.”

At the sound of sincere need for a challenging conversation, Wednesday’s defenses immediately went up. “Or I could pull you onto my lap and have you put your tongue in my mouth.”

“Well, I’m going to do that, anyway,” Enid giggled, straddling her to prove the point, giving her a long kiss. Thinking she was off the hook, Wednesday went to slide her hands along her back, just above her hot-pink pants, when Enid caught them and brought them together near her chest, pushing a kiss to her fingers. “We should talk.”

“We should keep doing that.”

“I’m serious,” Enid said quietly. “Look, I love you, so much. But – you’ve been very clever and used incredible evasive tactics each time we’ve tried to have a chat on any sort of serious front like the one that we really need to.”

Feeling trapped, Wednesday’s heartrate doubled in speed and she had to exercise every molecule of self-restraint she had not to shove her girlfriend to escape the situation. “I know, you’re not afraid of anything, but the future…it’s nerve wracking to think about. And, unfortunately – it’s really only a month away. I love you. I know that I love you, and I know that you love me, too. But we do need to start talking about what we want in life beyond just that we love each other. For your mom and dad, it was so easy – as they graduated Nevermore, they just ran off on trips and quests and got married and had more fun than they knew what to do with. We already know that our lives are going to be different than that. So…I just want to talk about that, a little bit – before we makeout anymore, okay?”

“Enid…” Wednesday tried to avoid her gaze. “I didn’t come over her to make things difficult, I thought since you would put the baby to sleep by seven-thirty, we could just spend time together-”

“We are. We will. But…Wednesday – do you want to have babies with me someday?”

Feeling like the springs in the couch cushions had just given out, popped her off and through the roof – Wednesday knew the color drained right out of her face, her eyes glazed over and when no words could form in her throat –

“Hey, hey…” Enid put her hands on her cheeks, snapping her awareness back. She pushed a sweet kiss to Wednesday’s lips and tilted her head. “Stay with me. I think that I’ve got my answer.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Wednesday responded with far more hostility than she needed to.

“Okay, okay…” Enid lifted her hands up in defense and sighed. “I’m sorry. That was so not a good way to lay that out there. But I’ve been trying to ask you more direct questions for months and you always avoid them, Wednesday. It’s frustrating! I want to plan for the future, and I want a future with you. I just want to know what that means.”

Wednesday swallowed thickly, trying not to feel overwhelmed and guilty. Her pulse was throbbing in her ears, her palms were sweaty –

“I told my mother that I would never be like her. I would never be a housewife, or a mother.”

There was a flicker on Enid’s face. Barely there, but obvious to the girl who knew her the most, who knew her the best, who loved her more than she’d ever thought possible.

“I mean, we’d be working, no doubt,” Enid said through a bubble of barely concealed emotion. “I can’t see you ever just wanting to sit about at home, and even if you were, you’d be writing or composing music or solving contracted murder cases, for sure…”

Cutting off her ramble as guilt was the next emotion that she started to experience, Wednesday hated how her harsh could snap out Enid’s light so quickly, even when she tried to hide it. “I…didn’t mean…Enid, when you just throw these things at me, I’m bound not to have an eloquent speech planned.”

“Well,” Enid shrugged, biting her lip. “We’ve talked about being married. That it might be possible for us. Just know – I’m open to having a family with you. Whether that’s us and a disembodied hand and a one-eyed cat, or us and a little…human-person, you know, I’m open to it. Just so you know.”

Getting a little lost in her comment, Wednesday popped a questioning brow. “Why would the cat only have one eye?”

Enid recoiled a little. “You seriously think you’d have a normal pet? Be real, Wednesday. The one-eyed cat would be a sign that he’s a street fighter. That’s way more your style than a cuddly, perfect Persian.”  

Wanting to acknowledge the other part of Enid’s sentence, she found words locked in her throat again. She gave a shrug and balled her hands into fists at either side of Enid’s ankles on the couch.

“We know we have the next four years together, so like – this isn’t a convo that has to happen right now, I guess. I’ve just…read, that the longer a couple takes to talk about their wants and desires for the future, the more challenging it is if those things are different from one another. I don’t want things to be challenging with you. I love you. And I want to know – your wants, so that…I can prepare myself for making them happen.”

She leaned forward and initiated a kiss and Wednesday immediately felt her heart rate drop. After letting it go on long enough that her hair was a little messy in the back from Wednesday’s wandering hands, Enid pulled away with a wink, wanting to check the baby monitor. “Oh, she’s out. I had her outside until just before she needed dinner. The fresh air always does that.”

Just as Wednesday was about to try and tug her in for more affection, an alert on Enid’s phone indicated that the food had arrived. She deactivated and reset the alarm after securing it in her hands. “It’s no steak, but carne asada will totally do instead of whatever frozen post-partum diet food Bailey’s mama has in the freezer. Ick.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “A mother feeling pressure to return to her pre-pregnancy size is such a horrific societal pressure that needs to be popped.”

Enid brought them plates and forks, giving an approving sigh. “I know, right? Like – you just grew a whole-ass human! Give yourself a minute, mama – you just performed a miracle, and you should appreciate your body.”

Biting back a comment befitting her father of appreciating Enid’s body, Wednesday thanked her for the dinnerware and served them, listening to Enid blather about how excited she was for the following weekend and all the songs she hoped the DJ would play, singing a few dramatically to remind Wednesday of how they went (as if she could forget the earworms).

After taking care of the dishes and putting the leftovers in the fridge, Wednesday knelt in front of Enid as she flipped through a streaming app, knowing it would be some time before she landed on something for them to watch.

When she put her hands on Enid’s knees, the same way that Enid had done when she was rocking the baby, Wednesday locked eyes on hers. Enid dropped the remote. “You okay?” She asked in a serious, worried way, rubbing her shoulder.

Nodding, Wednesday let out a breath through her nose and shrugged. “I’m open…to whatever feels right for us.”

Enid lowered her hand from her shoulder to take Wednesday’s both in hers. “You don’t have to say that just because I said it first,” She promised. “I meant it as in, there’s no pressure, like - one way or the other. I’m serious. I just want a life with you.”

“What if we found a two eyed cat…and a one-eyed child at the same time?”

Blinking, Enid smirked. “I’m not sure what circumstances would lead to that, but of course. I don’t care how many eyes a kid has. If it feels like they’re part of our family, of course they should join it!”

Wednesday gave a curt nod, finding the words that had been locked away. “I don’t know that I’d ever want to carry a child. Physically, I mean – in utero. It seems like a distressing invasion of my personal space that I’m not sure I would ever recover from, and not due to societal standards of looking a certain, outward way afterwards.”

Enid’s eyes grew a watery sheen to them. “Of course, Wednesday. We’d never put you through something that made you uncomfortable that way. I’m, ugh,” She groaned. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by practically forcing you to hold baby Bailey earlier. That was wrong, I’m s-”

“That was an okay sort of discomfort,” Wednesday promised. She’d very much survived that moment. “It’s good to prove to myself that I can be gentle sometimes. But…maybe – if we don’t happen upon any orphans with limb differences who need space in our home, and you feel that you would like to carry a child and technology advances in such a way that it is possible for them to share our genetic makeup and we have space and have open hearts and we decide it’s what’s best for us and our family in our situation -”

Enid cut off her near-breathless ramble with a very sweet kiss. “I love you. I love this. Keeping our hearts open. That’s all I wanted to know, Wednesday.” She beamed at her. “You did a great job with Bailey, tonight.”

“You’re the natural. I would likely have a large learning curve.”

Enid raised a brow. “I’m not so sure. I think if it was a child of your own, not one already on a firm schedule and routine, you’d be quite instinctive. What aren’t you good at Wednesday?”

“Engaging in conversations and expressing my feelings,” She muttered as she proved that very point that night.

“Well, it’s not your strength, but both are totally mine, so – that’s where you lean on me, because I’m your partner, who loves you. And,” She kissed her again. “I appreciate you, coming out here tonight, just to spend this time with me like we’d planned. And having this tough talk. I love you. Come put your butt on this couch so I can sit on you and kiss you again.”

Not needing to be told twice, Wednesday took that direction very well, enjoying about twenty minutes of heated kisses, heavy petting and almost a little bit more when a fussing sound came from the monitor.

Enid groaned as she pulled away. “Right now, my heart is so not open to this,” She giggled.

Wednesday smirked, following her, having an idea as they moved to the nursery. Bailey was crying, mostly asleep, but wanting…something.

“I’ll change her real quick,” Enid whispered, nodding, “That bedtime bottle will run right through a baby.”

As Bailey whined and grumbled when Enid made to lay her back down in the crib, letting out a loud cry that made Wednesday wince, she shook her head, reaching her arms out. “I’ll talk to her.”

With an amused smirk, Enid passed her over and Wednesday sat back in the gliding chair, holding her awkwardly in front of her, explaining to the baby, who stopped, staring at her with exhausted eyes, “You’re fine. You’re safe. You’re warm. You’re full. You’re dry. You have everything you need, except about ten more hours of sleep. So, I’m going to rock you, and in five minutes, I’m putting you back in the crib, and you’re going to sleep. Do you understand?”

It was as if the baby said ‘yes’ when she gave a coo, reaching forward. Wednesday gave a curt nod. “That’s the rule. Five minutes of rocking, then back to bed.”

With the firm expectation set, she brought Bailey up to her shoulder the way she’d seen Enid do earlier. She snuggled right in, surprisingly – and thankfully – she wasn’t overtly sticky or snotty, as Enid had wiped her face pretty well after changing her. Gliding back and forth and patting her back, Wednesday thought that perhaps – if she had a beautifully haunting Russian composition playing softly in the background, it would help her stay asleep – adding that to her mental toolbox of notes in case the situation ever arose for her to develop a routine with a baby…

As she expected, once she’d put her foot down with the rule, Bailey knocked out on her shoulder. Enid whispered and motioned for how to transfer her into the crib, and as she did so, onto her back, Wednesday almost smiled at their tag-team success.

Back in the hallway, Enid winked and gave her a kiss. “You are a natural, Wednesday. You just do things in your own way. Now come here,” She gripped her collar, making Wednesday flush. “I’m about to have my own way with you.”

[your-poetic-lifeline]

Hello! I hope you’re having a great day/night!! I had this idea but I’m lacking my writing skills so here we go,

Mirage and octane dating their s/o (l HC that octane would date someone the opposite of him, the rare occasion that he will stop just for them) but their s/o want to keep it a secret because they’re scared people won’t like that they are in a relationship in general (like when kpop celebrities date someone and their fans go crazy toxic) idk if this makes sense but thank you and take care!!

HELLO!! I have emerged from finals ٩( ᐛ )و on that apex grind to celebrate. Hope y’all are doing good. :) And that I captured the vision for this one!

also imagine the internet in the 2700s… has to be a thousand times the hell it is right now.

Dating the Legends in Private

pairings: mirage x reader / octane x reader

content included: private relationship situations, relationship boundaries, gn reader, semi-fluff?

—————𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 —————

Mirage

༻ Mirage has a lot of things. Money and success from the bloodsport he made his career. A reputation and bloated ego followed around by cameras.

༻ But he’s never had love before. Not in the way he does with you. And it’s an entirely different thing from all that…

༻ It’s not something you can just show to the public so easily. But he really wants to.

༻ “I love you, so my fans will love you!”

༻ It doesn’t really work like that… with the Apex games being so big, Mirage is nothing less of a trending celebrity. That’s too many eyes peering into your relationship, you think.

༻ And people online can be heinous.

༻ Though his ecstatic pitch and sweet smile almost had you sold on the idea, you had to mention your concerns over the tougher realities of being in the public eye alongside him.

༻ He knows, but he loved the idea so much he was hoping you’d wanna risk everything for it like he wants to…

༻ He’s a little sad, but of course he keeps you off his social media as you wish; no questions asked.

༻ He probably thinks about it further and also starts making himself less recognizable when he’s in public with you. Wouldn’t want a fan or paparazzi disrupting a date with you after all.

༻ Not to mention the idea of anyone saying something below respectful or endearing of you makes his chest puff a little. He’d have no qualms confronting the source of the act. Online or otherwise…

༻ Wouldn’t be too surprised (or disappointed) if he got into a controversy for that!

Octane

༻ We’re well aware he lives on social media.

༻ Phone and selfie stick always on hand. Livestreams during the most casual of times.

༻ So I can imagine that if you didn’t let him know about your boundaries beforehand, you’re gonna find yourself in an awkward situation where a camera is shoved in your face and honestly— depending on how much you really don’t wanna be seen— you might catch your boy off guard with the harsh shove you gave his arm when he moved to pan the camera to you.

༻ He just thought a semi-regular appearance with the two of you together would be nice. Sure, he’s an adrenaline junkie, always doing crazy stunts, and that’s what people wanna see. But daredevil activities are not the only thing that make him happy.

༻ You make him happy too, so he wants to post you. But he completely understands the turn it could take.

༻ Realistically, I imagine him sneaking a photo of you onto his social media anyway. Perhaps a blurry portrait of you. The candid, aesthetic kind that has you mid smile.

༻ Whether you scold him for technically going against your wishes or not is up to you.

༻ And depending on how serious you seem with wanting to keep your relationship separate from his public persona, he’d probably think back on how he handled that. He’d start to feel a little regretful. It makes him realize he may have lost some of your trust. And he definitely doesn’t want that.

༻ He decides to take down the post and apologize to you. Sure, there are still screenshots and reposts out there. But that’s all they’ll ever see of you from this point forward. For once, he’ll take this seriously.

༻ And for a guy who isn’t known for handling consequences well, the idea of negative comments from celebrity articles or the typical weird, possessive behavior from fans upsets him and he now understands your reasoning more.

—————𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 ————

banner source

[ashxketchum]

They uploaded the video where Agumon, Gabumon, Veemon and Wormon will call out names of fans and look! We get a glimpse at Taichi, Yamato, Daisuke and Ken's rooms!

You know what this means? It's time for a certified Ayushi breakdown 🫡

There is so much blue in Taichi's room hahaha (taiyama win!), the soccer magazines + jump manga reference is so on point. And he has so many bags! Taichi why do you need so many backpacks, one for every outfit? 😆 THE DUMBBELLS THO my boy is working out to maintain that body we got a glimpse of in Tri 😌 The whistle hanging on the wall is also a nice touch, is it Hikari's whistle from when they were kids? 🥹 Or even if it's not, I'd like to imagine a scenario where Taichi helps Hikari with her kindergarten schoolwork occasionally by coaching football to the little kids in his free time! Can you imagine him running around with little kids who are about as tall as the football itself 🤣 I tried to zoom in to figure out what the magazine on his desk is for, and I could make out the word Nakano, so maybe it's just something he picked up on his way home (maybe he lives around Nakano?) since it looks slightly crumpled too, like it was shoved in his bag in a rush. His phone (and is that a wallet?) feel pretty standard. He is the only one who doesn't have a lamp on his desk + has some kind of reminder post-its stuck to his desktop, maybe he's not so good with passwords? Koushiro probably always lectures him about this every time he visits.

Now let's talk about Yamato, FIRST OF ALL I WILL SCREAM ABOUT THE KOD TSHIRT! HE STILL WEARS IT! I'M CRYING RIGHT NOW!!! And then his guitars because I swear I did a one hour deep dive trying to figure out the brand and model and I think they're both Fender (an expensive brand I would say) which once again makes me wonder how much money does the TakaIshi family has for their sons to have expensive, bikes, cars and guitars. TO TOP IT OFF Yamato is definitely an Apple bitch too like look at that monitor and keyboard, that's Mac and his phone is very clearly Iphone. Now his room follows a very warm, muted tones of black and brown. We can spot some music related magazines on his shelf and a big, plain tote bag on the ground (see Taichi one big bag should be enough 🤣) which looks like something he uses for grocery shopping. Yamato is the only one who doesn't have a wheelie computer chair, but rather a wooden one. Now whether he did this to follow the aesthetic of the room (highly likely) or because he doesn't actually spend a lot of time in this space is something we can all think about. He has a framed portrait or photo(?) up on the wall and I did consider him more of a framed art guy over a poster guy always so this is good to see too. Also nice to note that on his desk, he has THE HARMONICA 😭 And the same Jump issue that Taichi has on his shelf! His room is honestly a lot like how I imagined it to be in terms of the furniture and colours so I'm very happy with this sneak peek!

I am not qualified to comment on Daisuke and Ken's rooms, so will leave that to 02 fans!

[hollandsfavbabe]

Peter's Precarious Polyjuice Potion - part 2

Part 1

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis: in which you and peter are forced to take extreme lengths to protect your secret relationship with the help of your shape shifting powers

warnings: lying, extreme secrecy, a very flawed plan, made up asgardian traditions, end of a secret relationship

word count: 9.3k

a/n OMG IT'S FINALLY HERE! I'm so sorry for how long it took (life's a lot to handle sometimes), but isn't it so worth it?? Nearly 10K words, she's a big one. Stay tuned for a very special announcement tomorrow, possibly involving a new series about some very magical characters ⚡🦁! Without further ado, please enjoy this very lengthy part two! I hope you love it as much as I loved writing it.

With only a little more than 24 hours to prepare for the impromptu family dinner, you and Peter wasted little time (other than the 30 minutes spent celebrating your stroke of genius). You spent the entire night practicing shifting in between forms; MJ for you and Flash for Peter.

While transfiguring your figure to match MJ’s wasn’t much of a challenge, you found it exciting getting to practice on another human, something you had never tried with your powers before. At first you had to retain physical contact with Peter to hold his transformation as Flash, clutching onto his hand as you perfected every portion of his to match the yearbook portrait reference you had of the obnoxious boy. Eventually, you started getting the handle on holding his transformation without touching him and then progressed to being able to change him from opposing sides of his bedroom with the simple swish of your finger.

Once all the technical work was figured out, you focused on perfecting the individual aesthetics and mannerisms of your faux significant others. For Peter, you stole one of Bruce Banner’s compression button ups that resembled something one of Flash’s butlers would’ve dressed him as and transfigured a lightsaber slap bracelet into the same ritzy watch that you’d seen on Flash’s sickly wrists from days he had haraseed you on Campus. Unlike Peter, who was fortunate to still attend school in New York, Flash had followed you to MIT which allowed you to develop a form for Peter that was closer to the person he was now and help him slip into character.

One of Peter’s flannels sufficed for your own transformation into MJ, but neither of you had quite the right dark bottoms outside of Peter’s Night Monkey suit from your SHIELD hijacked senior trip. You tried to call her as she had remained one of your closest friends, but it always went to her voicemail no matter how many times you tried. You figured she was still in school as resorted to a midnight trip to the nearest Target, picking up a pair of black jeans that you thought suited her. Of course becoming MJ to date Peter publicly wasn’t ideal, but it was so much better than having to change into Flash.

By morning you both felt confident in your disguise and focused on narrowing down the specifics of your plan. Before long, it was time for your scheme to turn into a reality.

As previously decided, you and Peter left the Campus under the guise of two platonic friends going their separate ways to pick up two beloved dates. In reality, while your father and Pepper were hard at work in the kitchen. You transformed your cars to resemble the area of forest around them and returned to Peter’s room to get ready, evading the cameras with the same transformative tactic. Simple objects like cars were much easier for you to transform, meaning holding it wouldn’t be a challenge. People on the other hand, were much more complicated and a successful heist of this nature would require full activation of your powers. It would be exhausting, but you knew you could do it. You were determined to succeed, another blessing that accompanied your inherited stubbornness.

You and Peter lounged about in his room undetected by the others for around an hour, the amount of time it took to pick up ‘MJ’, before it was time to start the show. You both dressed and hobbled over to Peter’s window where he jumped before you. Upon receiving his shout of survival, you also shimmied out and jumped into Peter’s waiting arms below as he caught you with ease.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, setting you down on the ground while keeping an arm locked around your waist. As your boyfriend, he knew what a transformation of this size meant in relation to your health and worried as the considerate person he was.

You enclosed his hands in your own and closed your eyes. With a deep breath, you allowed the familiar skin-tingling sensation to surround you as your form was replaced with MJ’s. You open your eyes to meet the dark sea of murky brown enclosed in Peter’s and shoot him an assured smile along with a nod of approval.

“Let’s do this.”

It was with his hand entwined with yours that you made your way to the entrance of the most hospitable area of the campus where you knew the kitchen resided. The normally undecorated door sported a festive green wreath with red bows and silver bells embedded on the small branches as you rapt upon the wood and stepped head first into the lion den.

“I’m back!” Peter called, and immediately you two were greeted by Steve at the door. He took Peter’s coat from him like the old-fashioned gentlemen he was and as he turned to get yours, you had to fight hard to suppress the urge to smile at him like usual. Your persona has changed, you remind yourself, and the girl you’ve taken on does not smile at strangers. Ever. Instead you acknowledged Steve as stone faced as possible in the same manner MJ would’ve if she had done it herself.

“Nice to meet you MJ,” Steve smiled as he extended his hand to you, gesturing towards the thick flannel you had on. “May I take your coat?”

You eyed him down and shook your head.

“No, I like the cold.” you mumbled and walked off to the main room where Peter and the rest of the Avengers were so anxiously awaiting you, your father setting the last dishes on the table as they came out of the steaming kitchen.

“MJ!” he bellowed through the mass of hungry heroes at the sight of you and you can't help but feel strange about being called something other than the several names he had given you over his many years raising you. “We’re so glad to have you. Peter’s told us so much about you!”

You looked at your father with the same expression you had seen MJ give strangers many times before and nodded as he came forward, careful not to match his smile. You had to be absolutely unreadable, especially around your father or else your plan was sure to fail.

“Thanks for the invite. I’m happy to be here.” you recited in your practiced monotone voice, closely resembling MJ’s, but not quite mimicking it. You could feel your heart start pounding as your father eyed you with suspicion, his eyes narrowing at you.

“Have we met before? I feel like I know your voice from somewhere.”

You gulped as silently as you could, fighting hard against your nerves as your palms began to sweat. You balled them up before the perspiration could drip and gave a simple shake of your head, trying to stay as close to MJ as possible.

“I don’t believe so.” you stared him down with a classic MJ look; eyes in a half-lidded gaze and lips upturned into a bored sort of state.

“Hmm.” your father paused to ponder, his eyes scanning down to your balled fists that gave off a contradicting message to the thoughtless aura you aimed for. It was by the grace of a higher power that Pepper finally swooped in to save you, laughing angelicaly at Tony’s antics.

“Give her some space Tony! She’ll never come back if she thinks she’ll be suffocated.” she grinned and latched onto one of the arms he held propped upon his hips to pull him away from you. Instead she pushed him in the direction of the nicely set table and gestured for the others to take a seat.

“We just finished setting everything up, except for the main courses, so you’re welcome to come take a seat, MJ.” she offered, plopping down to the left of your father once he was settled in the head chair. You took note of the others as Bucky, Sam, Steve, Thor, and Natasha took their respective seats, leaving four empty chairs reserved for the couples that were supposedly attending.

Peter was by your side in an instant as if he could read the thoughts of doubt racing through your head. He took your hand and squeezed ever so slightly to remind you that neither of you were alone and that he wasn’t going anywhere. You wished you could show him how grateful you were for him, but even the semblance of a smile would’ve given you away to the others. Yet even under your mask, Peter could read you. It was a talent he had adopted from years of being around you and no matter what you put off for others, somehow he always knew.

He led you to your seats and pulled out a chair for you before claiming his own seat in between you and Bucky. You began to dish yourself up small helpings of every dish that was indicated as vegetarian friendly, a gesture from Pepper after Peter had told her about the real MJs dietary restrictions. You were lucky most of her sides ended up being meat-free naturally as any extra miles ran for ‘MJ’s comfort would’ve been taken in vain. Afterall, you would have to eat for two people the whole night.

It was while you were buttering up a plump Hawaiian roll that you realized that all of the other Avengers were staring at you, an awkward silence enveloping the room.

“So, MJ, tell us about yourself.” Natasha prompted, growing tired of the tension. She wasn’t as suspecting of you as you father who was eerily silent as he poured gravy on his mashed potatoes.

You cleared your throat as you rehearsed your background, careful not to break from character for a single moment.

“You guys probably already know, I used to go to school with Peter. That’s how we met. We didn’t have many classes together, but we were on the decathlon team together, so I guess that’s cool.”

“So I’m sure you know my daughter as well, right?” your father brought you up from across the table. He would’ve startled you if you hadn't been in such control of your expressions. Instead you gave him a curt nod, turning your head to peer at him.

“Yep, I was friends with her before Peter actually.”

“Well that’s wonderful!” he grinned, though you were sure you could sense the slightest tone of insincerity. “You know, she's coming tonight, but she’ll be a bit late. She went to pick up her boyfriend. You should know Flash, right?”

You felt Peter’s thigh nudge yours from underneath the table as you hesitated to reply, a reminder of the story you were to recite as soon as someone brought up Flash. It was imperative, otherwise the pieces needed to assemble the perfect date night heist wouldn’t fall into place as you had planned them.

“Oh, I can’t be around Flash for too long. He’s a real creeper.” you deadpanned. The other Avengers froze in the middle of their meal, all setting down their utensils and staring at you with intrigue.

“Like in the mortal television program? What is its name … Mind Facts?” Thor asked through a mouthful of cranberry sauce that he evidently had not learned was supposed to be enjoyed with other foods.

“Are you talking about Minecraft? The video game?” Peter suggested, the only person present who was young enough to make sense of the god’s unintelligible examples.

“Yes! The Craft of Mining!” Thor exclaimed. “‘Tis a much enjoyable endeavor indeed.”

“No, I’m pretty sure she means that this Flash kid makes her uncomfortable.” Sam reasoned, stamping out the sidetracked babble at the source as everyone’s attention returned to you.

“What do you mean, MJ?” asked Pepper. Despite all your preparation, you were suddenly realizing how much you lacked an explanation for why you and Flash couldn’t be together other than the truth. Without completely reasoning through it, you conjured up the best lie and let it slip out of MJ’s lips as the immediate regret sunk it.

“I have a … restraining order.”

SIlence washed over the table as the Avengers looked at you in surprise. Even Peter seemed shocked, but he quickly morphed his expression into one of remorse as if he had already known about the tragedy you had just made up out of thin air.

“What happened?” asked Bucky curiously, before receiving a hard elbow from Sam for asking such an invasive question.

“I don’t want to get into it.” you replied, satisfied with the severity of your lie preventing any further questioning out of respect for your fantastical situation. “It's fine though. He can be here as long as I’m in another room.”

“That reminds me,” Peter stood, clearing his throat. “I haven't shown you my room yet. Wanna check it out?”

“Sure,” you shrugged and stood to take his arm as the two of you headed towards his room, leaving a table of conflicted Avengers in your wake. Your father parted his lips, nearly calling you back to the table long after you and Peter had snuck out of sight until the sudden blare of the doorbell rang out from the entrance.

“I got it, ” he assured Steve who was eager to open the door until he was encouraged to stay at the table. This time your father went to open it and was met with you smiling in your normal form, your hand hooked in the crevice of a strange boy’s elbow that he had never seen before, Flash. Well, more accurately, Flash/Peter. In the two minutes you and Peter had been gone, you both managed to change into different outfits and transform into different people.

“Hey dad!” you greeted, leaning forward to kiss his cheek as you did all you could to separate yourself from the quiet stone-faced girl you had been pretending to be only a moment ago.

“Hey junior,” your dad smiled, pulling you into a casual hug before stepping back to motion you inside. You hurried in with Flash/Peter right behind you though he stopped in front of your father and held out one of his transfigured hands to shake Tony’s, grinning at him in a weird not even Flash like way that you supposed would have to do. “You must be the famous Flash!” your dad smiled back, accepting the shake before pulling the disguised boy inside.

Flash/Peter’s watch glinted in the artificial light of the dining room, the cherry on top of a perfect disguise. You had used a slap bracelet to make it,  transforming the original green of the lightsaber blade it took the shape of into something that resembled a Rolex.

“Famous?” Flash/Peter quirked an eyebrow as he began removing his own puffy jacket. “I don’t know about famous. I’m a pretty mediocre guy if I do say so myself.”

You kneed your boyfriend in the leg, a not so subtle reminder that he was supposed to be a walking endorsement for the person he was presenting as Flash naturally was. He doubled over in pain and you ignored whatever strange looks your fellow Avengers sent your way.

“Ahh.” he groaned, keeping his whimper down so as to not give his real voice away.

“Isn’t he just the silliest?” you mustered another fake grin that was becoming easier to produce with each front you hoisted up to protect your plan. You pulled Flash/Peter back up so he could be straight on his feet once more and headed towards the table, sitting in the only two seats with empty plates. “He gets so funny when he’s nervous. I’ve been trying to remind him he can be himself.” you enunciated the last part for your boyfriend’s sake.

“Oh you’re so right sweetie,” Flash/Peter reached to hold onto your hand. “I just don’t want anyone to think I’m a conceded assho-”

“Turkey’s ready,” you heard Pepper announce as she brought the large bird out from the kitchen and set it on the table. You hadn’t even noticed her absence at the table throughout all the chaos of pretending to be two people. You were reminded of your alter-ego as she set down a smaller dish closer to where you had been eating before. “I also have a vegan substitute for MJ.”

“So, Flash,” your dad began, retaking his position as the head of the table as he began carving at the turkey. “MJ and Peter were here not long ago. I’m guessing you know about them?”

“Of course I do, Mr. Star- I mean Tony,” Flash/Peter corrected himself, careful not to slip up by calling your father a name that was all too easy to trace back to Peter. The correction however, was almost worst as you noticed your father’s brows indent into the glare of a skeptic. “I’m friends with Peter actually. He’s a great kid.”

“That’s funny. I could’ve sworn he was just saying the exact opposite about you.” Sam pointed out, crossing his arms as he set down his fork. He could tell something was off as the man rarely mentioned Peter without sneaking in a jab.

You burst out laughing as an attempt to ward off the growing tension. It was all too artificial.

“Isn’t he just the sweetest?! He always thinks the best of everyone!” you exclaimed, throwing an arm around your boyfriend and flashing the table a false smile.

“Then how do you explain the restraining order?” blurted Bucky, joining Sam in the skepticism.

Flash/Peter’s eyes widened as he failed to provide an answer, nearly abandoning his impression of Flash’s voice.

“It was uhh… a total misunderstanding? I’m sorry, is MJ here? Like right now?” he asked, as if the information was new to him.

“She just went upstairs with Peter,” your father answered, though some of the cheer in his tone had been lost. He suddenly turned to you, and while you weren’t currently in your disguise, his stare felt like a flashlight as if he could see right through you. “I told you we were all going to be eating together. Why didn’t you tell me that she and Flash don’t get along?”

You mentally cursed yourself at the idea. Perhaps if you had spun your lies differently, you and Peter could’ve pretended for two seperate dinners instead of trying to juggling both to hold it together for one.

“I forgot?” you shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t think the restraining order is that big of a deal anymore.”

“Great! That means we can all eat together,” your father cheered, the prospect of his plan coming together overpowering any suspicion he had of you. He stood from his spot at the head of the table and veered in the direction of Peter’s room. “I’ll go get them.”

“No!” you shouted, dread corrupting your face until you noticed the warning look from Flash/Peter to correct yourself. Any extreme objection would be a dead giveaway.

You cleared your throat with a laugh and stood, pushing away from the table. “I mean, no, that’s okay. I can go get them,” you offered. “Flash, do you want to come with me sweetie? I should probably show you where the bathroom is. He has indigestion”

“Oh yes, that would be lovely.” Flash/Peter agreed as he stood with you. He sent you a subtle wink, confirmation of a successful save.

“Okay,” your father agreed, settling more of your worries until his gaze slipped towards Flash/Peter’s wrist where you had forgotten about the transfigured watch. “Just remember to take off your slap bracelet.”

Your heart dropped as you looked down at Flash/Peter’s wrist to discover the enchantment had faded, a symptom of your anxiety. You had been so focused on keeping up the facade of his facial features, the watch detail had entirely slipped from your control revealing Peter’s extremely recognizable lightsaber slap bracelet.

Flash/Peter looked down at his wrist, his eyes widening as he came to the same realization and proceeded to hide his entire hand behind his back.

“I don't know what you mean.” he tried and it took every morsel of your remaining strength not to slap yourself in the face.

“That’s really funny, Flash, because I swear Peter has one just like it,” your father declared to the table, one of the detriments of having a dad that knew your boyfriend so well. “He’s obsessed with Leia’s green lightsaber.”

“No, the blue one is Leia. This one is Luke’s!”

Silence took over the atmosphere in the room accompanied by stares of shock as Flash/Peter’s correction landed. You knew he couldn’t help it, Peter hated when people got Star Wars general knowledge wrong, but boy was the timing inconvenient. 

“Uh, I mean, that’s what Peter would say. He loves that kind of stuff. Oh god, my stomach hurts so bad. We should go babe.” Peter tried to cover, gesturing for you to escape with him to what was presumably the restroom though you were starting to think maybe there were better odds of your survival if the two of you booked it for the nearest remote village instead.

“Sure thing,” you nodded as you escorted him from the room, trying your best to ignore the suspicion that you could feel rising. The operation was still salvageable as long as you and Peter were convincing enough.

“Y/n said that dinner was ready?” Peter said only a moment later, reemerging into the kitchen as himself with you by his side in your MJ disguise once more.

“Yep! You guys can go ahead and take your seats.” Pepper smiled, seemingly the only person unphased by your slap bracelet slip up. You and Peter both did as you were told, sliding into your seats and digging into the meal.

“This is delicious Mr. Stark.” you deadpanned, offering a compliment to your father in hopes that it would subside his skepticism.

“Actually, I made it.” Sam interrupted in between bites, wishing for credit where it was due. You nodded in his direction, trying not to emote.

“Oh, well thanks Sam. It’s good.”

“How did you know my name is Sam?”

You shrugged in a manner that seemed aligned with MJ’s performed disinterest though inside you feel like you could explode on the spot.

“You just seem like a Sam,” you covered. “Or an Anthony, I just went with the first choice.”

“It’s Falcon to you, hot shot.” Sam returned, taking another bite of his turkey. You weren’t unused to harsh comments from him in your usual form so you simply returned to your own plate.

“MJ,” your father beckoned for your attention to which you gave it to him. “I thought you were vegan.”

“Oh, yeah I am.” you nodded. Panic erupted through your core, but you tried to contain it on the surface.

“Then why aren’t you eating the special option I prepared for you?”

“Yeah and why are you in Flash’s seat, Peter?” Pepper joined the questioning. It was then you realized that Peter had chosen the seat to your left where he had previously been dining as Flash rather than his assigned seat on your right.

“My bad, I didn’t realize he was sitting here.” Peter awkwardly rose and moved to sit in the correct spot.

“Yes, and while I appreciate the effort, I can have meat on Wednesdays so it’s okay.” you fibbed. Your father had never strayed from the path of being a practicing carnivore and so you hoped his lack of vegan insight was enough to be unaware that there were no breaks.

“So, how long have you two been seeing each other?” questioned Natasha, changing the dangerous topic of conversation though you supposed her reasons for asking we drastically different from yours.

“Four months.” Peter answered.

“Two weeks.” you chimed at the exact same time of Peter’s own response earning a conflicting look from the other Avengers.

“Uh we mean four months and two weeks.” he covered. “But honestly it feels like we’ve known each other for way longer.”

“Probably because we have known each other longer.” you elbowed Peter under the table, a stabbing reminder of the backstory the two of you had spent an hour preparing earlier that day. Perhaps the time would’ve been better spent constructing an exact timeline.

“Oh right, because we’ve gone to school together since middle school.” he smiled, reminded of your carefully constructed story that pulled from when he had first met the real MJ so many years ago.

“So that means you know my daughter!” you dad exclaimed, though the majority of the genuine excitement he had showed during your first appearance of MJ had completely disappeared. “She just got here with Flash. I know you can’t be in the same room as him, but you really should say hi. I can show you to her room.”

“Oh no need!” you assured him, though with too much enthusiasm. You had to swallow it down as you stood, returning to the character that resembled MJ. “I can go find her myself, I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah and I really have to use the bathroom.” Peter stated, replacing his napkin from his lap into the chair likely so that he would know where to sit when he returned as Flash.

“I’m pretty sure Flash is in occupance of the lavatory.” Thor informed your boyfriend.

“Oh, well in that case, I’m going to use the one all the way across Campus.” he stated and at once the two of you were charging towards the exit. Overall, your confidence in your performance was starting to plummet, but you hoped it was convincing enough.

“What is up with these kids?” your father asked once you and Peter were far out of earshot. He consulted the table for any take similar to his own. There was something off about your and Peter’s dates and he intended to figure out exactly what it was.

“I bet it’s some kind of college disease that’s spreading around. You remember how crazy it can get.” Pepper shrugged, the least suspecting of the table apart from Steve who was always slowest to process anything out of the ordinary.

“I wasn’t that bad. At least I could hold a conversation for more than five minutes without running off.” 

“I wish Wanda would’ve come,” Bucky stated, reflecting on her mind reading capabilities. “I swear she only scheduled that date with Vision to miss this.”

It was not even a moment later that you and Peter returned flushed from the quick change into the alternative couple, Flash/Peter taking the napkin-less seat.

“Feeling better Flash?” your father asked though his tone made it sound more like teasing.

“Hmm - oh! Yeah, much! This all looks delicious by the way. My compliments to the chef.”

“Thank you-” Sam had started to say, until he was abruptly cut off by your father.

“That would be me,” Tony took credit, and while you were confused by the blatant lie, you were sure it had something to do with his ever growing suspicions.

“Ahh yes, well, thank you Tony.” Flash/Peter eyed your father. As in tune with your boyfriend as you were, you swore the assumed first name basis was on purpose now to defame the real Flash.

“Except for the mead. Only the finest can come from Asgard-” Thor started, before he was shot down as quickly as Sam had been by the very same man.

“Speaking of compliments, I just love your T-Shirt,” your father praised, abandoning his plate to stare at Flash/Peter with curious gaze. It was even more frightening than any of your previous slip ups as he hogged every question to point out every flaw in your plan.  “Does Peter know you’re borrowing his clothes?”

Flash/Peter looked down to the wrinkled shirt on his shapeshifted chest, the white text starkly contrasting the black cotton to spell out, “Right now I’m in a galaxy far far away…” You couldn’t believe he had forgotten to take it off. It was a dead giveaway as no one else in the campus, in the whole of New York even was as much of a Star Wars fanatic as your boyfriend as emphasized by his slap bracelet.

You stood up from your place beside Flash/Peter and pulled him away from the table with enough force that it might’ve ripped his arm off had he not had the strength of Spider-Man even when trapped in his school nemesis’ body.

“Oh that’s so funny. Flash must’ve borrowed it from the pile in my closet.” you rambled out an excuse.

“You have a stash of Peter’s weird nerdy T-shirts?” Natasha commented as she lifted her glass of wine to take an overly lengthy sip.

“They’re not weird! Just punny.” Flash/Peter defended in a voice that was all too reminiscent of his natural tone rather than the false falsetto that Flash spoke in. You elbowed him as the two of you ducked away to change.

“We’ll just go put it back now!” you shouted to the table before disappearing out of sight.

“Wasn’t Peter wearing that shirt tonight?” Steve wondered aloud.

“I don’t know,” Sam shrugged. “I couldn’t tell with that goofy flannel he had on over it. How many years has he lived here and no one’s taught him how to dress himself. I think that should be the next operation.”

“Yeah, we could call it Operation Put Peter’s Pull-Overs to Death.” Bucky agreed.

“Guys, let’s look at the bigger problem here,” Tony interrupted as he quite frankly didn’t mind how Peter dressed. “Don’t all four of these teens seem suspicious to you.”

“Well I suppose a little bit, but it could be winter festivities.” Thor shrugged, unbothered by the whole affair.

“What the hell is a winter festivity?”

“He means Christmas.” Natasha filled.

“He’s not from where Christmas is celebrated.” stated Tony before turning to the god for further elaboration.

“In Asgard, winter festivities are when the finest of young people come together to fill the chilled night air with the sweet scent of love-”

“And I’ve heard enough of that.” Bucky forced the story to a stop, nearly running out of his seat quicker than you and Peter had.

“We’re at dinner for the love of God!” Sam looked at Thor with the most incredulous of expressions.

“That’s exactly what I mean, it is for the love of gods.”

“Quiet! I can hear them coming back,” Tony shushed, hoping that what the two of you pulled next would be enough to expose whatever you were hiding. Now, be super analytical here. Watch for any slip ups.”

You and Peter returned to the table, sitting back down in the seats of MJ and Peter once more carving into your meal. Peter was able to swallow a few more bites, but your anxiety surrounding being caught had caused you to lose your appetite.

“Wow, this is so good.” Peter groaned.

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that.” Sam chided. He too was getting tired of the game at play as he started noticing the same signs your father pointed out.

“Right, well, I thought I should do it again.”

“I hear you’re studying literature, MJ,” your father sent you a question. “With a specialty in classical era Russian authors?”

You gulped down your food nervously as you nodded though you couldn’t recall ever telling your father about MJ’s academic choices. You completely missed the discrete screen he had opened on his lap under the table that he had used to look up all of your friend’s credentials. It was one of the perks of being Tony Stark, he could gain access to anyone’s personal information with the simple tap of a button.

“That’s right.” you agreed, determined not to break from your expressionless front.

“Did you know that Natasha used to live there?” your father inquired and at once you knew what he was getting at.

“No, I didn’t. What was it like?” you replied, hoping he wasn’t about to do what you thought he was. But you and your father were all too similar and if there was a move you suspected him of making, chances were he would do it.

“Well,” Natasha cleared her throat, setting down the silverware she had once used to sift through her mashed potatoes. “- other than becoming a child assassin and spending every day of my childhood being brutally beaten to a pulp everyday to withstand the worst conditions that a hit might include, it was awful.”

“Wow, I’m sorry.” Peter sympathized, caught off guard by the misfortune of the whole story.

“Yeah it’s tragic,” your father brushed off, turning back to focus on you like the lense of a telescope narrowing in on the target star. “Now, you should really practice some Russian, with Natasha.”

“Tony, stop it.” Pepper tried in an attempt to stop the ambush from going too far, but she knew him as well as you did. When Tony Stark had an idea, he was like a bull chasing the red of a woven cloth. If anyone got between him and his goal, they would be squashed from the sheer force of his will.

“What?” he asked, as if he was clueless to the exposing plan that was currently in motion.

“You have that look in your eye. You know that one you get when you think you’re onto something?” 

“I’ve also seen him get it over a new microscope. While it was still in the box.” Peter added. You caught your laugh just in time, putting all your efforts into staying in character.

“Enough, we promised to keep that between us,” your father flashed angry eyes towards Peter before looking at Natasha. “Come on, Nat. Just one line of Russian? Wouldn’t you like that MJ?”

“No I wouldn’t…” you shook your head, though being MJ requires you to be less vehement than normal.

“Oh, but it would help you!”

“Fine, if it makes you shut up.” Nat gave in, before turning to you in your MJ form. You could feel your heart sink in your chest as if the growing weight from the pressure was starting to sink it.

“он думает, что ты лжешь” she spoke, and it didn’t take an expert in the language to know that her accent and inflections beyond perfection. She made a nod towards your father, a subtle attempt to warn you that he knew your plan was failing while she took your side. Little did she know, underneath the cool palette of MJ’s stone expression, you were panicking worse than ever before in your life which you could’ve conveyed had you ever learned to speak Russian.

“So, what did she say, MJ?” your father prompted.

“She dove a soak.” you replied in the best accent you could muster (which ended up being closer to a classic Californian tone than Russian), earning a stern look from Natasha.”

“Did you just say what I think you did?” she glared and you stood up with Peter, heading back in the direction of his bedroom.

“No - I - my notes are upstairs! Let me just go get them really quick.” you motioned for Peter to follow you, deciding that now was a good time for the two of you to switch as you feared being literally snapped in half by the Black Widow.

“See, I told you something’s off!” Tony exclaimed as soon as the two of you had vanished, his tablet above the table as he examined the real MJ’s Seal of Biliteracy.

“I hope you’re right. Otherwise Peter’s girlfriend just totally called me a fucking bitch in Russian and I don’t often let people get away after insulting me like that.”

“Cool it, Widow. I promise you, she did not understand an ounce of that conversation. MJ’s Cornell profile doesn’t even mention Russian,” he pulled up his screen to further inspect, zooming in on the certificate. “She’s actually studying Japanese.”

“Tony.” Pepper groaned at the sight of her husband holding the invasive tech.

“What?!”

“You are undoubtedly the worst iPad kid I’ve ever come across. And we live with Morgan!”

“Aren’t you more concerned with the fact that he can just access people’s private information on a whim?” Steve interjected.

“No. We’re all used to that.” Bucky shrugged as he was quite indifferent on the matter. He didn’t even have a personal phone for Tony to stalk.

“Got some embarrassing searches, Captain?” Sam teased from beside him. But Tony was on it before Steve even had a chance to think about a response.

“None other than the fact that he looks up Bluey on a daily basis to watch clips of it on Youtube.” Tony switched to a new tab that contained a detailed review of Steve’s search history before switching back to MJ and looking up Flash’s profile on Harvard for further opportunities of exposure.

“Hey! That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Steve exclaimed as he crossed his arms against his chest. “I love the Heeler family.”

“But I pay for Disney+. Why do you have to watch it on YouTube?” Tony protested before tucking his tablet away again at the sight of Flash reentering the room, only it wasn’t your face that smiled at the group as you entered, but MJ’s.

“We’re back!” Flash/Peter exclaimed, holding your hand close to him as if you were actually his date. You clutched onto his bicep, missing the firm muscle of Peter’s normal arm as you squeezed Flash’s much more flaccid one. It was then you noticed the disturbed looks from the table of Avengers.

“What?” you asked, moving one of your hands to pat your cheeks. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No, but you are holding onto the wrong man.” Bucky pointed out to which you realized that you, MJ, were holding the person that you were supposed to have a restraining order against.

You let out a scream as you tore yourself from Flash/Peter and booked it back in the direction you had come from. Peter was only a few seconds behind you as he started calling your name in Flash’s whiny voice.

“I’m starting to see it now,” Thor acknowledged as the gaps in your plan started growing too wide to go unnoticed any longer. “These young mortals are not who they pretend to be.”

“I told you!” Tony exclaimed. “I think y/n’s powers are behind it. There is no way that she and Flash just happen to appear right when MJ and Peter leave.”

“Either that, or this is just one bad Disney Channel show plot.” Steve shook his head, earning a crude stare from your father.

“What? First I got scolded for not using Disney+ and now I’m getting scolded for using it? Make up your mind!”

You returned as MJ only a few seconds later with Peter at your side as you thought it too risky to change into your other disguises considering the possibility of admonishment.

“Sorry guys, y/n is taking care of the restraining order stuff.” Peter professed as the two of you stood behind your chairs, but opted not to sit down in case you needed to quickly change.

“Is she now?”

“Yep.” you agreed, pulling out your phone as a distraction, hoping the Avengers would just see you as a blatantly disrespectful teenager rather than a skilled liar. You hated the thought of besmirching MJ’s image, but it had to be done to keep your secret. After everything else that had fallen apart, it was all you could resort to.

“Alright, that’s it!” your father exclaimed. “The jig is up you guys, we know what this is.”

“What?” your heart started beating wildly in your chest as you looked up from your game of Subway Surfers.

“I know you’re not really MJ. And I also know that if I went upstairs right this second, that neither Flash nor my daughter would be there.” your father stated, standing and moving closer to you as he revealed your biggest fear since starting the whole operation.

“No, I am and they definitely are!” you countered, losing the quiet aggressiveness of MJ’s normal tone as you defended yourself.

“Then how do you explain your phone case, huh? It looks exactly like the one I got y/n for her birthday last year.”

You looked at your phone case that displayed a solid ivory background and was covered with silly nods to the Harry Potter saga, something your father knew you would love. You laid it case-down on the table so it could blend in as  any ordinary phone once more.

“So, what if I’m just borrowing her phone case?” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Like Peter just borrowed Flash’s whole outfit?” he returned and instantly all eyes were on Peter who was not in his flannel ensemble, but his counterparts silly con style instead. He looked down at his clothes and cursed.

“Damn it, I knew I was forgetting something.”

“This has been really funny, said no one at this table, but it’s time to give it up.” your father ordered, but out of the many traits you had missed out inheriting from him, stubbornness wasn’t one of them. You glared a deathly stare at him, your nose scrunching as you painted on your meanest face.

“I am MJ!” you glowered, slightly raising your tone so that he would take you seriously.

At that very second, your phone screen lit up with the familiar likeness of MJ’s contact photo and the swipe to answer button as she decided on the exact moment that you were trying to be deceptive to call you. It was all over.

“Answer it.” your father ordered and you knew you had no choice. You picked up the phone and put it on speaker as per his instructions.

“Hey y/n!” the voice of MJ greeted you through the phone in her usual friendly monotone that she often used when speaking to you. While you had only known each other the last few years of high school and didn’t go to the same college, you two were fairly close.

“Hi,” you replied shakily. There was no going back now.

“Listen, I don't have much time, I gotta get back to one of my classes, but I wanted to know what your plans are for the rest of break so we could find a space to hang out.”

“Uh yeah, I’ll let you know. I’m not doing much, just in a lot of trouble.” you confessed taking in the absolute fury of your father. If looks could kill, you would be six feet under. Honestly, you couldn’t tell if he was more mad at you or proud of himself.

“Oh, ok. Well can you pass the message onto Peter? He would be invited too of course. I’ve already asked Ned.”

“Great. I’ll tell him.” you swallowed.

“I’ll talk to you later, I’ve really gotta go now.”

“Okay, Bye.”

Your heart sank as you set your phone down again and faced the reality of your choices. Your father knew and there was no fooling him anymore.

“Alright, give it up you two.” your father ordered.

“But, I’m not-” you tried, but of course it was no use.

“Now!”

You sighed as you let the facade fall, crestfallen upon your revealed appearance. At once Peter was at your side as your curly hair returned to its natural stage and color and your normal face emerged from MJ’s.

“Busted,” Tony crossed his arms and stared at the two of you. “I’m guessing Peter was Flash.”

“What the hell is going on?” Pepper questioned, the only one who had fallen for the high jinks.

“It’s a scheme! They aim to commit high trickery!” Thor accused, slamming his fists on the table.

“Relax Thor, let Tony finish speaking.” Steve requested, much less disturbed than the others despite the fact that he had also been victim to your foolery.

You couldn’t even meet your father's gaze, far too embarrassed by the failure at your attempt at concealing your relationship. You knew he was eyeing you down with his startling stare, you could tell by his shifting posture. You looked over to Peter who was equally ashamed looking, wishing that you could hold him close.

“What is this?” your father inquired, his brown stern eyes burning into you like a brand into hide.

“Requesting clarification, sir,” Peter uttered. You had learned from past experiences that he often slipped into using strange vernacular when in an awkward situation.

“Peter, I caught you in a game of hooky. That doesn’t mean you become a robot.”

“Right, sorry….sir,” Peter apologized, using the name he had been wanting to call Tony all along.

“I want to know exactly what's going on here… from you.”

Sensing general attention shifting in your direction, you lifted your head to see his finger pointed in your direction. You knew there was no denying his authority though you didn’t think there was much to explain.

“I think it’s pretty obvious what’s going on.” Natasha interjected, but she was brought down by Pepper who wanted you to get your chance at explaining. There was very little you could get out.

“I’m sorry, dad.”

“Why don't you two have real dates?”

“We’re not really dating those people Mr. Stark,” Peter contributed, hoping to take some of the weight off his shoulders, though it didn’t help much.

“So when I asked you who Peter was dating, you made up an answer?”

“Yes.” you admitted, lowering your head in shame once more.

“I knew it! He is gay!” Bucky exclaimed.

“What?” gasped Peter as he sent the soldier a well earned look of absolute shock. You couldn’t help, but roll your eyes.

“I already told you, he’s not gay!” you repeated your earlier statement, hoping it was enough to finally put the rumors to rest.

“Then why are you pretending to be his girlfriend?” your father asked and you knew you couldn't hide it any longer.

“I’m not, dad. I’m not pretending to be his girlfriend.”

“But you are quite literally in clothing you would never wear to try and act like someone else.”

“Yeah, if you two didn’t actually have dates, you could’ve canceled.” Sam pointed out though you suspected he only spoke due to his longing to be literally anywhere else.

“Right, okay so I did do that, but MJ is not Peter’s girlfriend. She never was.” you explained and at once you could tell the truth had finally snapped in place.

Your father’s eyes widened as he started to catch on to what you were saying. You nodded at him, taking a step closer to Peter and intertwining his hand in yours. He made it all obvious from the mere look he was giving you, soft and compassionate, two of your favorite parts of him. You could only imagine how in awe your expression was in return.

“I am.” you confirmed, though you hadn’t needed to say anything at all.

There was silence as the rest of the Avengers took in the reveal for a while before Tony broke the silence again.

“How long has this been going on for?”

You gulped.

“Three years.”

Your father nodded, pondering over the information before erupting in applause with the other Avengers joining just behind him and passing high fives all around as Tony shouted “I was right!”

You didn’t understand. He had seemed so angry at you seconds ago and none of it made any sense considering his ancient rule. No dating superheros, he had been preaching it long before you and Peter ever met. Yet it didn’t change the scene before you, the celebration played out as if they were footballers who had just won the championships.

“What the hell?” you cried?

“What?” your father paused all congratulations to turn to you.

“You’re not mad?” you questioned.

“Maybe a little about you lying for so long, but I gotta say, I am more impressed than I am mad. Why would I be mad?”

You almost couldn’t believe it. How could he forget his oldest rule?

“Because I’m not allowed to date him?” you stated as if it were obvious. It should’ve been, but somehow he hadn’t remembered.

“Why would that be?”

You stared at your dad in disbelief as the cheering instantly disbanded. The confusion you felt bubbles into a strange form of frustration. While you weren’t quite angry, you were blown away by the forgetfulness of your father.

“You said I’m not allowed to date superheroes! EVER! That’s like your oldest rule!”

“That's sad,” whispered Sam to Bucky, though it was loud enough that everyone heard it. You turned to glare at him before a large gasp erupted from your father and at once you could tell he remembered. You could feel it now, the shower of disappointment that awaited you, but instead all you heard was laughter.

Your father was laughing! Chuckling at the prospect of such a rule even though it was his very own. You stared at him, mouth agape as you waited for an explanation.

“Oh! Junior,” he chuckled, calling you by the nickname you had held from a young age. “I made that rule when you were obsessed with Loki. It doesn’t count for someone as harmless as Peter!”

Tony laughed as he gestured to your boyfriend who stood frozen like a deer in headlights. You expected the whole room to burst in the same hilarity, but what actually followed was almost worse. Heat bloomed in your cheeks as each of the present Avengers looked at you in disgust.

“Hey, you'd think he was hot too if you were 12!” you defended, though you felt silly.

“I, in fact, did not think Loki was attractive when I was 12.” Thor claimed, holding his proud mane of blonde hair high.

“You don’t count.” you glared at him.

“He literally almost took over New York and killed your dad?” Pepper recounted the events of the battle.

“I thought I could fix him,” you shrugged. “Still do actually…”

“Right, well moving on, if I had known you still thought those were the rules, we could’ve done this ages ago.” your father explained as if the information was a casual concept.

“Done what exactly?” you asked, requiring more explanation.

“You do realize this whole plan was to expose you and Peter right?” Natasha added.

And for what felt like the thousandth time in two minutes, your brain exploded from the new information.

“WHAT?”

“Well I wasn’t even that sure of it, I started to suspect it after I tried grabbing the Sorcerer’s Stone and literally all the Harry Potter movies were gone and I only know of one other person that considers them Christmas movies in this household.” your father eyed you as he explained it.

“Damnit.”

You really should’ve known. You totally had forgotten how similar you and your father were in that aspect. In many aspects really.

“So this whole time, everything with Operation Pair Parker, it was all so that Peter and I would confess?”

“Exactly. Though I must say, you had me convinced for a bit with the whole other partners thing. For a while at least.”

“I wasn’t convinced.” Bucky shrugged, crossing his metal arm over his chest.

“Yes you were,” Sam countered, calling him out. “You almost cried about it when you realized they might never be together.”

It was too much all too soon, but after a while you realized the whole plan of misdirection was equal in effort from you and your father as well as stemmed from the same intentions. A respect for the other and deep long running stubbornness. It forced you to crack a grin.

“So Peter and I were allowed to date this whole time?” you restated.

“Of course. In fact, I was surprised that you guys never dated in high school. It all makes sense now. Either that or Peter was gay.”

“What is up with people thinking im gay?!” Peter tried, but no one was paying attention to him.

“Thanks dad.”

“I am going to punish you for lying to me for so long though. You absolutely should've said something earlier.”

“That’s fair.” you muttered, gritting your teeth.

“Oh no it's not,” Pepper interjected. “C’mon Tony, it's the holidays! Can't we punish them later?”

“Fine, but I am going to make you expand your movie marathon to include the rest of us. Steve still has to check Harry Potter off his list.” your father required, reference the written list Captain America had been checking items off of ever since he had emerged from the ice.

“Yeah, as long as there’s a dog involved.” he agreed. You pictured Sirius Black in his dog form and nodded assuredly, omitting any of the tragedy that accompanied the name. You only nodded.

“Deal.”

And so your family date was rescheduled to the following night where instead of deception and stress, the space normally used for casual conferencing was transformed into a festive welcoming space. Snowflake decorations covered every corner of the ceiling and the chairs were arranged to all face a giant flat screen with loungers added around for you and the other Avengers to choose from.

Soon, the lot of you had settled down for the first few movies to kick off your marathon, sharing themed snacks and butterbeer from a recipe you had found online after your father declined importing the real beverage from Florida.

It was a better scenario than anything you could’ve imagined after revealing your relationship with Peter. Instead of drama and betrayal, there was light and laughter and just like always, Peter was right by your side in front of the others without a hint of bashfulness. You had just gotten to the third movie after spending the evening rewatching and finishing the first two.

“Which character was your crush when you were little?” you whispered to Peter, shifting closer to him in the oversized bean bag you two were sharing during the quidditch scene.

Peter sighed as he pondered all his options before landing on his final answer.

“Definitely Ginny.” he confirmed

“Good answer Parker.” you agreed, believing the girl was very similar to yourself. Or at least I’m a few ways.

“What was yours?” he returned the questioned, though you wouldn’t volunteer the information as easily.

“Guess.”

“Oh no,” Peter groaned as one particular person popped into his mind. “Don’t tell me you were a Draco sympathizer.”

“Don���t hate on his fan club,” you chided, remembering how strong of a chokehold Dracotok held over many in its active days, regardless if you felt bad for the pathetic blonde or not. “But no. I liked the twins.”

Peter chuckled as your answer made more sense than anything he had in mind.

“Which one?”

You opened your mouth, ready to respond, but your father beat you to it, his words sudden and unexpected.

“Fred,” he answered, popping a nerd gummy cluster into his mouth. “She’s got the Wattpad history to prove it.”

You turned in your seat to gawk at him as he offered the information to the whole room.

“You did not just say that.” Pepper scolded from beside him.

“How the hell do you have access to my Wattpad history?!”

Your father pulled out his tablet from seemingly nowhere and opened a tab that described every website you had accessed ever since you were an impressionable young teen.

“I have access to everything you did when you were little. I probably should’ve taught you about your digital footprint better.”

“Well anyways, he’s right.” you turned back to Peter, deciding not to bother with your fathers antics.

“But I’m nothing like them,” he whispered, careful to keep his voice low to prevent further eavesdropping. “Maybe you should make me taller and turn my hair red sometime.”

“You, Peter Parker, are everything I need you to be just the way you are. And I would take you over any of my fictional hallpasses anyday.”

You leaned in to nuzzle his nose with your own, sparring the hall from any intense PDA before your father spoke up again.

“That’s true. She still reads a lot of Spider-Man fics.”

“DAD!”

[canmom]

so hades 2 huh

it's fun! i am more convinced after actually playing it than i was in the runup to it. the green colour palette looked a little drab in the videos but it works better for me fullscreen in game, and I really like the second zone's design. the major aesthetic change does go a little way towards making this feel like 'new Supergiant game' instead of just a rehash of the first game.

the difficulty floor is higher than the first game. i think it's well-tuned to go into if you've beaten that one. so far i've played 6 runs, seen the first boss in 5, and and beaten her in 2 of them; yet to get more than about halfway through the second zone after that tho!

the new mana mechanic is kinda interesting, lots of tradeoffs to make. it's a bit more granular than the cast in the first game; you use it to do powered up versions of your attacks, and spending it also charges up the Call-equivalent.

i'm increasingly intrigued by the setting, and i really like some of the side characters like arachne. i think the time skip was a good decision - the story of Zagreus et al. was definitely done. the epilogue ending of the first game was way too neat.

still, starting a revenge plot in media res is curious. especially when Nemesis lampshades the lack of personal motivation. compared to Zagreus's very pressing and relatable motivation (run away from my abusive dad), Melinoë's motivation is a little more abstract - this seems to be deliberate. but it does a fair bit to sell the sort of 'desperate resistance base' setting. it definitely seems rather like they're setting up a twist down the line. but it lacks the immediate emotional hook of the overbearing patriarch in the first game. curious to see how it will work once I've seen more of the story.

as far as the new gods, I'm fascinated by the decision to make Hephaestus and Hestia both be Northern - probably Yorkshire. it's always fun hearing regional UK accents in games. they do also both feel like responses to the criticism that Jen Z never designs fat characters lmao. still, they are good designs. both have satisfying mechanics. Selene also has a really good design I think.

the other gods' mechanics have naturally been redesigned to fit the new game. still broadly the same themes, e.g. Zeus will still be lightning based, but different interpretations of what that means, so for example you have 'hitting an enemy produces a lightning blast behind them' as the primary Zeus mechanic instead of chain lightning. which definitely keeps things fresh. Melinoë's kit has a lot of directional attacks and, with the Cast now being an AOE which slows/freezes enemies, there's a lot more emphasis now on positioning enemies to set up AOE attacks which is interesting.

the witch stuff is quite fun in an admittedly slightly cheesy way. it's definitely pull on aesthetic currents which aren't at all Ancient Greek, like the pointed hats. but hey! I can get into it, it's not like the game's aesthetic has ever been all that strictly historical. even if I am still scratching my head at 'so mote it be'. apparently it's an archaic word meaning 'may', i.e. 'may it be so'.

of course the main thing is, the actual moment to moment gameplay is fun. it flows just as the first game did, and it's just as addictive with the way it spreads out story breadcrumbs. the vfx and such look great, the movement is already super tightly tuned (tbf it's basically the same as the first game with the addition of a new 'hold dash to sprint'), and there's a already good variety of enemy mechanics.

there's some obvious placeholders for some of the UI art and character portraits (notably none of the keepsakes have been drawn yet), but overall it's surprisingly polished for an early-access build. all the voice acting is already there - it's fun seeing the Supergiant voice cast return in new roles.

the meta progression element... there's some neat ideas, like an upgrade system with a limited set of slots that very much calls to mind NieR Automata's chip system. so there are some stronger tradeoffs to make; it's not as simple as 'spend resource, get better' as it was in the first game. and it's clearly possible to advance quite far even without a lot of meta resource investment. so far it definitely feels like my main limit is skill, and I'll progress further once I learn more of the enemy patterns and figure out what builds I like to play.

(though I guess the idea with this kind of game is that the power ups quietly boost you and make it feel like you're getting better a lot faster than you are just learning the game lmao)

overall, it's just really fun to have another Supergiant game to sink my teeth into haha. I still wish they'd continued their streak of coming up with new IPs each time, because they'd come up with fantastic settings, but there's plenty of interest here still.

also the more I work in game dev the more I can appreciate just what a ludicrous amount of polish there is in Supergiant's games. I can only imagine the amount of work it must have taken to tune the feel of everything this tight.

[werewolf-girlfriend]

ive been enabled so let me share some of my thoughts on how to get ur art noticed online

if u want Engagement on ur posts then i believe that its critical to make people care about ur art. the easiest way to do this is to appeal to something they already care about, like fandom, aesthetics/subculture, current events, having fun (people love humor!). a harder but perhaps more fulfilling route is to talk about ur own ocs and projects enough until people start caring about them too

theres an infinite amount of topics people care about out there so id suggest picking something u already care about urself and channel ur art energy there. trying to make art for the most popular things out there regardless own interests is an exercise in misery, id advise against it..! if im allowed to get superstitious for a moment, i do believe that even untrained eyes can tell whether a piece of art was fun to work on or a chore. and besides! if ur having fun then its easier to create more, and the more u create the more chances ull have at getting lucky and having a post seen :)

on a very related note, art is a way to communicate ideas so the quality of the idea being presented in a piece of art is paramount to how popular a post will be. what i mean by this is that technical skill isnt the primary determinant of a posts popularity. if all your posts are portraits of original characters then people will have a hard time connecting with your posts and theyll keep scrolling, even if those portraits are masterpieces! the major exception to this is probably other artists, who ive found usually have a greater appreciation for the technical side of art (we can only speculate as to why..!)

lemme finish by saying that making popular posts and being good at art are two entirely different skillsets, ive seen many incredibly skilled artists with jack shit for notes because they dont give people a reason to care about their stuff NOT TO MENTION its a huge game of luck whether a post will get seen. so dont go insane in pursuit of recognition!

(i dont want to make this post too long so ive included examples from my own art and their note counts with my analysis after the break)

hello and welcome to the extracurricular segment to this post :) i bring yall two pieces from my art blog @werewolf-artfriend:

here we have a portrait of my fursona that im still proud of and a sketch suggesting "what if sniffers (from minecraft) were the size of mountains?" (let it be noted that the sniffer sketch was posted right during the minecraft mob vote = peak interest in the subject of sniffers).

the portrait at the time of writing has a crisp 30 notes, whilst the sniffer sketch has over 2000 notes. from the same artist, on the same blog, posted only a few months apart. i believe this is a good example both of the power of a piece of art having an interesting idea at its core AND of a piece appealing to the interests of the masses

this is of course just two convenient example posts, but i have experienced fan art of popular topics getting thousands of notes a couple of times now, amidst my other furry shit that these days get around 200-300 notes in comparison

this may sound like a really long winded way of saying "fan art make the world go round" but i just want to point out the nuances that

1) it matters what u make fan art of: if a fandom is small or dormant (waiting on new canon content for example) then clearly less people will be excited about the fan art you make. dont expect 10k notes on ur post if the average recent post in the fandom gets around 200 etc etc

2) it doesnt have to be fan art! ive also had some of my bird art get thousands of notes because people simply like birds :) and this applies to ANY topic people care about! the world rly is your oyster on this one

anyway i think ive started rambling dhgdjhgd thanks if u read this far! i hope i got my point across! and if ur feeling down about ur art not being seen then just keep at it okay! keep creating and keep having fun! keep sharing ur ideas and perspectives with the world and ur audience will eventually find u! i love you!

[polish-art-tournament]

paintings* round 1 poll 82

about the artist: Since 2005 he is publisher and editor-in-chief of DIK Fagazine, and has founded the Queer Archives Institute in 2015

Maria Konopnicka (from the series "Poczet"), 2017:

propaganda: I will just quote some text from the curatorial text by Fanny Hauser and Viktor Neumann accompanying the "Poczet" exhibition at Kunst(Zeug)Haus, Rapperswil, Switzerland (23 August - 1 November 2020), because they talk about it better than I could: "The Polish word “poczet” once referred to the smallest unit of the army of Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth (1569-1795), and later came to describe a group of people of common descent or performing a specific role. Most importantly, the word relates to a series of portraits of Polish kings and queens (since 966 to 1795), arranged chronologically and conceived as pictorial representation of Polish history [...]. [...] The artist’s employment of portraiture, traditionally considered a bourgeois genre, constitutes a crucial part of his practice as a means to paraphrase and inquire the aesthetics of a variety of historic artistic movements and practices. Adding another perspective to the common visual codes and historical narratives, this contextual shift becomes a subversive strategy to challenge dominant modes of representation and commemorates those who have been subjected to the patrilinear logic of history. Radziszewski’s "Poczet" is a bold retake on the idea of the formation of national identity as demonstrated by pictures that testify to (or rather construct) the continuity of royal power, exercised by heterosexual, cisgendered males and perpetuated through royal marriages. Forming a gallery of twenty-two ancestral portraits of non-heteronormative Polish figures of the past millennium from fields including politics, science, literature and art, "Poczet" deliberately reaffirms the protagonists’ expression of queerness that has been suppressed or erased from their historiography to a large extent."

The series "Ali", 2015-2017:

propaganda: Taken inspiration from Picasso in terms of style (specially like the nod to Guernica), to pay homage to the real life figure Agbola O’Brown (pseudonym “Ali”), a Nigerian-born jazz musician and the sole black combatant of the Warsaw Uprising, right wing assholes like to definine who and who not belongs, so this work really speaks to me as a counter work.

[silkjade-archived]

in the moment we’re lost & found

Featuring— albedo, kaveh, zhongli, dainsleif ⤀ gn!reader, reincarnation au but also a some soulmate au vibes (?), dark / light academia themed a/n: i picked charas i thought would suit the aesthetic cus my favorite flavor of reincarnation au has to do with art and museums / luv history + art + museums + galleries !

— 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎

as an up-and-coming artist, albedo is a rising star in teyvat’s art world, but lately he’s been haunted by a face he sees only in his dreams. it’s unclear, and it drives him insane that he can’t quite make out all the details of this mysterious figure. albedo, whose artwork is notoriously lifelike, knows that something just isn't right; something is missing and he can't quite grasp it. countless times, he's tried to translate the idea of you onto paper, and countless times he's ripped out pages of his sketchbook, the abandoned drawings left crumpled in random corners of his studio, of his house, of his room. they say the mind is unable to create faces of its own so where did you come from? it consumes him— the way you replay in his head once he closes his eyes, as if he'd somehow stolen the memories of somebody else. perhaps this is what the tortured artists sing of when they descend to madness, haunted by an absent muse. at least… until the fateful day he sees you out on the cobbled streets of mondstadt. you pass by quickly, the moment as fleeting as a shooting star, and something in albedo clicks. he doesn’t have time to think, he just moves. his muse is here now within reach; how can he risk letting you slip away?

— 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇

careless collision, staggering steps… you snap your eyes shut as you try to mentally prepare yourself for the utter humiliation of falling into the akademiya fountain. except it never comes. your eyes flutter open, and are instantly met with just about the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. however, his expression is one of shock, as if he’s just as surprised as you are of his own actions, and truth be told, he is. because he seemed to have been able to watch the scene unfold, even before the other party had bumped into you. because kaveh is sure something had come over him, with the way time appeared to have stopped and his legs moved of their own accord. like his body was suddenly able to predict the future, or that it was the work of some absurd sense of muscle memory. even so, the weight of you in his grasp feels uncannily familiar. in a good way. it feels right; it feels like he had waited his whole life for this moment.

and suddenly you're hyperaware of how close the two of you actually are— but also of how safe you feel with his arm wrapped around your waist, or of how his large doe eyes seem to peer into your very soul, the carmine hues dancing with renewed life. you really can't shake the overwhelming feeling that you've met before, that perhaps this isn't your first time around at all. and so you have to ask, “have we met before?”

"no, but I'd like to again."

— 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈

you quite literally walk into zhongli, knocking his documents out of his hands and all across the marble floor of liyue’s national museum. zhongli sighs without looking up; he had spent the better half of a day organizing contracts and paperwork for a loan agreement to inazuma, though he supposes he should share in the blame for not watching where he was going. hundreds of years have passed since the immortal ex-archon worked as a funeral consultant; these days, zhongli opts to spend his time surrounded by artifacts of bygone times and bygone people. but when he looks up, his golden eyes widen and his blood runs cold at the sight of you in front of him. he freezes, as if time seems to have stopped for the both of you. his focus shifts back and forth between you and the painting across the room: a seemingly ordinary portrait, dated from around the time of the blonde traveler. still, whenever asked, he can confidently say that it’s his favorite piece, even in this house of invaluable artifacts and monuments to heroes, even among all the rich antiquities teyvat has to offer. and here you were in front of him, a perfect match to the painting's subject. the one whom he had once held so dear before being torn away by the hands of time, is now kneeling on the floor in front of him, frantically trying to gather the scattered documents, of which he had long deemed irrelevant. he feels his impenetrable stone heart flutter for the first time in what feels like a millennia because it’s you. he's sure of it. it's you, it's you, it's you.

— 𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐅

ever since your move to mondstadt, you've started having satin dreams of knights and castles, false flowers and fictional faces; dreams that undoubtedly end in war and destruction because everything shifts. castles crumble, faces morph— it becomes a nightmare so vivid it feels more akin to a memory than a dream. but through it all only one thing remains constant in that, in every iteration, you always fall in love with the same blonde man.

wandering the tranquil halls of mondstadt's national gallery, you find yourself before The Destruction of Khaenri'ah, a painting tragically beautiful in it's depiction of the ancient nation's condemnation by the heavens. you feel your eyes threaten to water, the ache in your chest an indication that the same anguish you've felt in your nightmares, has now sunk its claws into your heart. it's the first time a piece of art has moved you like this. so much so that you’re rooted in a trance-like state until someone beside you clears his throat, snapping you back to reality. he himself also gazes at the painting although his arm is outstretched; a handkerchief in offering for your tears. it isn't until your fingers brush against his that the blonde man turns to meet your gaze. shades of cerulean, bluer than the depths of the seas, all a mere backdrop to the stars shining in his eyes. stars that match the ones sitting in your own eyes. your heart skips a beat at the revelation. it's him, the man from your dreams. he’s real.

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform