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#and for a year old painting(?) i still like it a lot
sherbertday · 2 days
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A throwback and build up to the present day, to which I have finished painting the part five poster. This has been four years in the making…mainly due to the fact that I needed the inspiration to hit. Although I don’t draw as much Jojo as I used to, I still love the series dearly. And research for these posters has been a lot of childhood nostalgia from old gothic novels to Drew Struzan styles movie posters.
And so for part 6 it will likely take me a long time lol…who knows. But it’ll be a lot of fun to paint!
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Do you have any more stuff for Sunny & Sides? Your designs for them are some of the best I've seen, and I'd love to know more about your plans or headcanons for them!
No pressure ofc, I support you and your absolute galaxy brain :D
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Sure, here is a bunch of random stuff about in no particular order, lot of this stuff was just pulled from my notes but whatever lol 
Sunstreaker is egotistical, he knows he is the best and makes sure everyone knows it too. He also has the skills, looks, and combat prowess to back it up. Sunstreaker only really cares about himself and Sideswipe, considering pretty much every bots below him or not worth his time. He often makes sly comments, belittling or cracking jokes about bots whom he deems lesser. His friends are either Sideswipes friends who can tolerate him or bots who think he's cool, which is usually due to factors outside his personality. He's always down for a good fight, being ruthless and downright merciless in combat while still somehow managing to get as little dirt, energon, or other various combat filth on himself as possible, sometimes being nearly spotless after a battle aside from the energon coating his blade. Sunny likes to keep himself in good condition, making sure his paint is perfect and his polish shines, it really helps accentuate how he's the best.
Sideswipe is the nicer of the two brothers. He's outgoing and usually pretty friendly. Sideswipes is always looking for a fight. He loves the thrill of combat. He often treats serious situations more like a game than the high-danger situations he often places in. Sideswipe often can't sit still and always need something to do, and if there is nothing fun to do then he will make his own fun, he is often sparring with his fellow Autobots, trying risky stunts, pulling pranks on other bots and generally just causing chaos. He's very impulsive, often doing the first thing that comes to mind because he thought it might be fun, never considering the consequences. He's kinda like a jock who treats war like a sport with an almost ruthless approach to combat. He often tenses and banter with other autobots, sometimes making jokes at their expense, but unlike Sunny, he usually knows when to stop or when he's gone too far.
info dump bellow↓↓↓
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both emerged during the Autobot Decepticon war and never known peace times. They are the youngest of the crashed Autobots, both being around a thousand years old, which is very young when your species can live to their hundred thousands.
Twins are what happens when a shuttle-sized spark splits into two, so before Sideswipe and Sunstreaker split, their emerging was highly anticipated because shuttles are rare and extremely powerful, but their spark ended up splitting. When they finally emerged, it was a great disappointment.
they were mentored by Inferno and, to a lesser extent, his conjux Redalert (they are one of the many reasons for Redalerts anxiety). Sideswipe has a pretty good relationship with his mentors Sunny… not so much 
Sunny hates Earth, it's filthy it's wet it's squishy it's sticky it's too hot, at least compared to Cybertron's frigid temperatures, and its dominant species are nothing but a pain he hates he has to hide his existence from the stupid inferior fleshy creatures that rule this dirtball of a planet he hates how often on missions he has to have a fleshy human chaperone to perform basic task that he could easily do himself or wouldn't be a problem if humans just didn't exist. Whichever bot or bots are on a mission with Sunny where human help is required, the other bot will always be the one transporting the human because Sunny refuses to let a human inside of him.
Sideswipe likes Earth, there so much to see it his first time being anywhere without the war consent looming present of the great war, but having to hide all the time on Earth is frustrating, he's been able to seek out and do some street races without Prowl knowing, he likes quite a lot of human stuff human music is pretty good and he like some human tv shows and movies mostly the ones with a lot of actions and explosion, he like interacting with the humans he's allowed to interact with especially Carly and Raoul, thought Sideswipe often struggles to understand how fragile humans are and often can put them at risk without even knowing it. Sideswipe is still a little homesick for Cybertron, even if he's only ever known it as a war-torn mess.
their poses often mirror each other
Sunny tells Sideswipe to smile with his mouth closed because his split beak. 
Sunny is the decision-maker of the two, and though Sideswipe may make destinations for himself on his own as a pair, Sunny always has the final say. 
Sunstreaker hates Sideswipe stickers but gave up on trying to remove them because whenever he tried, he got his claws sticky. 
Sunstreaker and Tracks have a bit of a rivalry going on, though Tracks hates Sunstreaker more than Sunstreaker dislikes Tracks. Also, Sunny usually comes out as the victor of most of their little spats.
Sideswipe pulls pranks but doesn't dare prank Sunstreaker because he knows there will be hell to pay if he messes up his brother's paint job. 
sideswipe loves to cause chaos, Sunny often help
Sunny has some artistic talent, though he doesn't use it much
Sunstreaker always makes sure his frame is clean and in near-perfect condition. Sideswipe doesn't care as much but Sunny, make sure Sideswipe keeps up to a certain standard.
Sideswipe is very extroverted, loves interacting with other bots, and will talk to basically anyone. Sunny is more introverted and prefers to keep to himself and select bots. Sunny tries to encourage his brother not to hang out with bots he considers not good enough to be associated with them which is most bots.
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As for plans for them, I like keeping what I share plot-wise pretty vague. They appear pretty early on, and they both are pretty plot-important. I don't really care about spoiling characters who appear in the first seven chapters. After that, I'm a little more sneaky and vague about who will appear.
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cobaltperun · 17 hours
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Genius (4) - Bittersuite
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Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader
Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.
Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part
Word count: 3.5k
-God, I hope it all goes away, 'cause I can't fall in love with you-
A madman’s love.
Cairo had no idea how that felt, but the way Miller described it sounded exactly like what she was yearning for. Ever since she was old enough to yearn for love. To be loved by someone to the point of madness, for that someone to merely be a bone monolith beneath her, to be loved so fiercely and strongly that both her and the one loving her end up consumed by the flames of emotions within them.
To be madly loved and to madly love in return.
How did that feel? To fight for someone’s love, no matter the circumstances, the taboo, the judgment of society. To feel so right no matter how many people said it’s wrong.
She didn’t know, but she imagined Miller knew, he described it, after all. He wrote it with passion that struck her, that made her yearn for what he was painting in her mind. What about his age? Well, she did desire something that others would deem wrong, didn’t she? And then there was Winnie, and Cairo would have cursed her for filling her head with the ideas of giving her virginity to someone older if Winnie didn’t present such a convincing argument. To give her virginity to someone that was, as Winnie put it, wagyu beef, and not deli meat.
She didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to bleed the first time she has sex, the books she read made sex out to be raw, rough, immediate, a desperate act of chasing pleasure, they hardly ventured into the ideas of woman’s arousal, much less aftercare.
Could he give it to her? Could he see her for who she really was? Reveal sides of her she didn’t even know existed yet? He certainly found something worth it in this damn village she despised, he could do the same with her. Find worth no one else did, make her feel wanted by someone. Make her feel like she was the only one who mattered.
Her phone buzzed and she glanced at it. You sent her a message, but she didn’t reach for her phone to reply. She just leaned her head back instead. She couldn’t deny the visceral reaction she had whenever she was reminded of you. Of her heart beating faster, or the dreams she had, or the fact that she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking forward to more on Monday mornings, listening to Miller, or sitting next to you, your arms occasionally touching and making her feel like she was on fire.
How did you see her? Did you still see the girl who read to you, the girl that dragged you around the forest around her house, the girl who pushed you away? Or did you see her for who she was right now? A ghost, someone a rare few paid attention to, though she kept hearing she was extraordinary. A lonely girl longing for attention and escape. You were certainly providing her with the escape she needed, seeing as Saturdays became your usual getaways, and you took her to places she had no idea about, she was living when she was with you, free from the shackles of nowhere Tennessee.
But your love for her was a lot like Winnie’s. Immature, normal, fueled by reasons appropriate for your age. She couldn’t imagine you or Winnie being driven to madness by your love for her, if the way you loved her even included anything romantic in the first place.
She needed a love that wasn’t ordinary. She needed her madman’s love.
And she feared that whatever was happening between the two of you wasn’t a product of love or friendship, but a desperate attempt to emulate what was once lost.
Cairo didn’t want that. She didn’t want to emulate the past, she wanted… What did she want? She knew what she didn’t want, but what did she actually want?
~X~
This wasn’t working, and the only reason you still tolerated this class was because Cairo was there as well. You suppressed a sigh as Miller droned on about the writer’s style being bold, and too much, and it really was.
You were trying to reignite your love for reading but all this was doing was making you wish to never open a book again in your entire life. You couldn’t get the fact that he went thought student’s stuff out of your head, and that impression alone ruined the class for you.
“Meet me after classes,” he leaned over Cairo’s shoulder, too close to her, secretive, whispering so no one else but Cairo could hear him. Though not quiet enough for you not to hear him, even if you looked like you weren’t paying attention. The fuck was with this guy? After classes?
You were reading too much into it, right?
~X~
Was he seeing her? Like Winnie said? Cairo wasn’t sure yet, but she couldn’t deny their similarities, how at ease she felt, how the only time she felt this much at ease was when she was with you on your rides outside the village. It compared to that as far as her ease went, but it went further, it met other needs she had as well. The ones she hated to admit she had. Her need for approval and attention from someone older, something she never got before, being a big part of it, and what made this seem more impactful to her than what she had with you.
And then there was a part of her that consciously made what she had with you feel like it was to be expected. Like it was a given that you’d reconnect. And she needed to look at it that way, otherwise she’d spiral into fear and panic, because if it wasn’t a given, and if both of you chose to actively put effort into rebuilding what you once had, then that in and of itself, would be a form of madness she wasn’t ready to face just yet.
“See you on Monday, Mr. Miller,” Winnie said as she opened the doors so she could drag Cairo to get her beloved food.
“Bye, kid,” a kid, that’s how he saw Winnie, but he didn’t call Cairo a ‘kid’, so at the very least he didn’t see her as one, though her and Winnie were the same age. He saw her as an adult, and she very much liked that. “Oh, and Cairo, are you going to come this Saturday?” he asked her.
She realized she never got to answer him, and it wasn’t just because Winnie came in, there was an issue of already making plans with you. “I already made plans with Y/N, but I’ll see if she’s fine with postponing,” she told him, not quite ready to give a definitive answer.
He seemed a bit startled all of a sudden. “Y/N?”
Cairo nodded, not sure what made him react the way he did just now, though it was subtle she could see he was a bit uncomfortable.
“Did- Uh, did she mention me in any way?” he tried to brush it off as a normal question, but the way he avoided her eyes gave him away.
“No,” she replied. Not even sure why you would mention him. You didn’t particularly enjoy his class, she could tell by the way you actively tried not to listen to him, and she knew you were doing bare minimum on the assignments. You didn’t like either him or the class, and Caro didn’t know why, she didn’t ask why, and you never told her why.
“Oh, okay, forget I said anything,” Miller regained some color when she denied you ever mentioning him and she just nodded, choosing not to ask him about it.
She’d just ask you. After all, you were the one who kept something from her.
~X~
You were in your garage, just cleaning your motorcycle and your gear when you heard the doorbell ringing. You weren’t expecting any visitors, so maybe it was just one of your neighbors. When the doorbell rang the second time you got up, leaving the rug you were using on the bucket, and quickly washed your hands in the sink, before going outside.
“Sorry for the wait, I was-“ you paused, seeing Cairo on your doorstep. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here,” you climbed up the stairs as Cairo looked to the side. You couldn’t read her, but you could tell something wasn’t right.
“Hey, Y/N,” she greeted you.
“Come in,” you opened the doors for her and stepped aside, she knew the house. Even if she hasn’t been inside in a long time. You followed after Cairo, taking notice of how she stopped and stared at the copy of Jules Verne’s ‘Around the World in Eighty Days’. You were trying to read it, but between Miller killing your desire to read and the book being closely tied to your and Cairo’s friendship while you were kids, you hated to admit it, but you weren’t having an easy time with it. Still, you were about two thirds in, so at least you were making some progress.
“Do you want something to drink? Or eat? I was about to make something for lunch anyway,” you were already heading toward the kitchen as Cairo sat down on the armchair.
“No, I just ate with Winnie, I’m okay,” she said and you chose not to push her. She was tense, and it didn’t escape your notice that she chose one seat that would put the most distance between the two of you regardless of where you sat down.
So, you mirrored her, taking a seat on the far end of the sofa, letting the distance between you engulf you. The silence felt deafening, and you hoped it wouldn’t come to this. This was the tension you were worried about the first time you took her out of the village, it wasn’t supposed to be happening now, two weeks after you reunited. “What’s wrong?” you asked carefully.
“Mr. Miller said something, well, he asked me if you mentioned him. Why?” she asked, looking you in the eyes and clutching the straps of her bag in her hand.
You could swear you were hearing alarm bells ringing in your head. Why would he ask her that? “I caught him and coach what’s-his-name going through your books on the first day, that’s all,” you had no reason to protect him, since Cairo asked so openly. Frankly, you weren’t sure why you haven’t told her that in the first place.
“That’s it?” she asked incredulously.
“You wanted more?” you were astonished. Now, you didn’t expect her to be furious, or go on a rant, or anything like that, but you didn’t expect her to think nothing of it. What did she even want from you, because you honestly couldn’t tell where you were standing with her.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she defended him. “Mr. Miller isn’t being inappropriate, he sees me,” she told you.
You raised an eyebrow, puzzled. Sees her? “Cairo, what do you mean he sees you?” you questioned, leaning a bit closer over the dreadfully large distance between the two of you.
Cairo looked away, contemplating whether she should tell you something and then, finally, she made her decision. “He sees my talent; he sees what others’ don’t. He- he gave me special treatment, offered me an early mid-term assignment,” she leaned back, likely reading your frown as if you were disapproving of her.
It wasn’t her. It was his actions. It didn’t feel right. It felt unprofessional, it felt like he was actively crossing boundaries with her, taking advantage of her need to be seen, as she put it. “Cairo, he might not be good for you,” you didn’t feel like you had the right to influence her, or get involved in her decisions, but you also felt like you had to, much like all those years ago, pull her away from something that could harm her.
“You just came back, don’t pretend you understand what is best for me,” she snapped, her voice shaking a bit and even from this distance you could see the tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m going to a poetry reading this Saturday, to see him, just so you know,” the fact that she was canceling your plans didn’t matter nearly as much as the reason why she chose to cancel them.
What pushed her this far? To seek approval from him of all people? “Okay,” but she was too emotional to talk to properly right now. So, you chose to back away for now, to just hope that nothing even worse would happen. And Cairo? She just left, closing the doors with a sound that rang through your mind as if it signaled the start of madness.
~X~
He truly did see her, he saw all of her. The ghost, the rose bush that wasn’t allowed to blossom, no matter how hard she tried. And she saw herself in him, she saw her reflection, and she wondered if he saw himself in her as well. She was willing to bet he did, they were both ghosts, cursed to never be seen for what they were by anyone who wasn’t like them.
He didn’t take her somewhere else, he showed her a side of her home she wasn’t aware of, and she managed to see worth in it she never knew existed. She yearned for more. She yearned for an even deeper connection. She yearned… she longed… she…
This wasn’t a given. This was something she had to reach for, something she had to work for, something forbidden, and yet so appealing at the same time.
Would he fight for her? Accept her entirely and burn in their shared passion and desires and yearning, or would he refuse to participate in this dance? She feared the answer, because, if he wouldn’t… who would?
And in the middle of it all, of all those thoughts and feelings, she just for a moment, saw your face as you told her he wasn’t good for her. Your eyes, intensely looking right at her. What did you see? What compelled you to look at her like that? And along the image of you, leaning closer to her, so close that she, despite the almost overwhelming distance, caught herself unsure if she should back away, maintain the distance, or lean in, encouraging you to keep closing the distance until there was none of it left. Along that image she vividly saw the wild rose bush crushed by an old fallen tree and her eyes widened as she remembered you pulling her away from it all.
Would you pull her back once again? Would Miller be the old tree to crush her? Or would he stand strong next to her as she blossomed? She didn’t decide yet, but she knew the way he was looking at her right now lacked the intensity your stare had.
~X~
You’ve been denying it for years, but Cairo, even after she pushed you away remained a constant presence in your life. You still remembered that time in the forest around her house, when she dragged you around and then just froze when she saw an old tree that had fallen over a bush of wild roses. It wasn’t the scene that remained in your memory. You weren’t old enough for it to profoundly affect you. Even now you didn’t come to give any deeper meaning to the imagery you witnessed.
It was still an impactful memory because she sobbed, and she wasn’t even aware of it. She let out a sound, filled with so much sorrow you couldn’t even comprehend what was going through her head back then. To this day, you didn’t know why it affected her so much, but you knew how it affected you. How it made you feel like you had to take her away from there, that you had to do something so she would smile again.
She set a bar so damn high for you that it wasn’t just the fact that you were moving a lot that stopped you from being best friends with someone. It was the fact that they just couldn’t compare to her. And then you got a bit older and started understanding your sexuality and you tried, you really did. You dated on and off, but again, the connection you were seeking wasn’t there. No matter how amazing the girl was you just found it hard to let someone in the way you did with Cairo. Did you ever have any feelings for Cairo that weren’t purely friendship related? No, not even a childish crush, but the connection between you was just strong enough to affect you years after you last saw her. You felt that connection in the songs you learnt to play, in some of the music you created, brimming with longing and inspired by a friendship long ago left in the past that refused to fade away.
You glanced at her, at her focused gaze meant only for Miller in this very moment, and you weren’t sure how to feel. You just waited for the class to end. And then he approached your and Cairo’s table from behind, and you saw his left hand reaching for her hand as he leaned over her shoulder.
As if he absolutely had to say something only to her.
Your eyebrow twitched. How dare he? He was her teacher, and she was only eighteen. Without thinking you pushed the table to your left so abruptly he lost his hold on the edge of the table and stumbled forward, and, unable to stay on his feet he dropped to his knees to the gasps of the students.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry,” he got up, dusting his pants and raising his hands as he turned away from the class, embarrassed by what just happened. Just for a moment his eyes met yours and you glared, begging for him to read your mind and see what you thought. ‘Learn where the damn boundary is,’ is what you were trying to convey through your eyes. Consequences be damned.
Not like there would be any. If he went and reported you, you’d just say what you suspected, consequences of those actions be damned. He, at the very least, did show favoritism toward Cairo.
When the class ended you stormed out of the classroom, ignoring Cairo and Winnie’s eyes following you.
~X~
As you walked out of the classroom after all your classes ended you suddenly felt a hand grab your forearm and pull you aside much to your utter surprise.
“Come with me,” Cairo demanded, ordering you as if you had no choice but to follow her every whim.
“You could be a bit gentler,” you complained, not appreciating how tightly she was gripping your arm.
Cairo looked back at you, anger flashing in her eyes. “I could say the same to you, why would you make him fall like that?” she hissed, dragging you to a slightly secluded corner.
“Maybe next time he’ll think twice before putting his hands where they shouldn’t be,” you were instantly annoyed by the reminder of where he was about to put his hands. And Cairo jumping to his defense wasn’t helping.
“Yeah, and where is that?” she challenged you as you leaned against the wall and she stepped right in front of you. If you moved even a bit, you’d be pressed right against her.
“Not on you, that’s for sure. Or any of his students,” he had his responsibilities and one of those was to keep the proper boundaries with his students.
“And if I want him to?” Cairo demanded and you just… weren’t sure how to answer that. You knew how it made you feel though. And suddenly it wasn’t just about his advances toward Cairo being inappropriate in your eyes. You finally felt as if the pieces on your side were falling into place, and you were no longer seeing the girl you spent your childhood with. You saw an eighteen-year-old girl and somehow you were no longer certain you only saw her as a friend. It was as if the very thought of him touching her ignited flames of madness within you, a jealousy you didn’t even know you could feel over Cairo.
“Do you really?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
You took her words in, you forced yourself to calm down, to take it easy, to think rationally. “Why did you push me away when we were kids Cairo?” you asked and she backed away a bit, and though she didn’t leave, you could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t going to answer. And her answer mattered to you more than anything, because her answer was the only thing that could make any of this worth it. That was the only thing that could validate or invalidate your feelings. That was the only thing that could solve every question running through your mind. And she wasn’t giving it to you.
A/N: Is Cairo confused at the moment? Yup! Is R? Absolutely! So, tell me what you think, I would appreciate it!
Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae
@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh
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bloomeng · 2 days
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I know MXTX is a good author I want to get that out of the way before I get into this. She’s a fantastic (male) character writer and she has a great grasp on interpersonal connections. Though she’s working in an established niche genre she’s still very creative, I think SV especially is evidence of that. But there’s one thing that I just can never seem to get a pulse on, and that’s how much she means to comment on classism.
Author’s intent is always gonna be tricky especially when I have to rely on translated texts and interviews. There’s probably a lot of nuance that I miss, not to mention literally interviews I’ve never seen etc. It also doesn’t help that I haven’t read most of TGCF yet, so I can’t comment on that series, and with SV this conversation is less applicable, so for the sake of what I know best I’m gonna be using MDZS as my main example.
Classism is undeniably at the heart of MDZS’s themes, however for years anytime I analysis the text I’m usually fairly cautious to note that I don’t know if this was intentional. This isn’t because I think MXTX is stupid or can’t handle deep conversations, it’s simply because I can’t tell if it was her intent. On paper it seems obvious; WWX, JGY and XY’s wealth disparities, how privilege drives the plot, literally everything about the Wens as a whole. So much of the novel’s runtime is spent showing us how corrupt the feudal system can be, going so far as to have a protagonist who dies for the cause and two antagonists who are driven to be awful because of their poor circumstances in life. It feels intentional that WWX was granted a certain amount of privilege based on something he was born with (his parents connections) and how easily people turned on him because to the world he is a villain (also he does bad things that he likely wouldn’t have to if he had no need to defend anyone). JGY acting as a foil for WWX feels intentional and I would absolutely consider them foils regardless of intent. With all this in mind I would be inclined to say that yeah, MDZS is commenting on classism, but then WWX marries into the corrupt system and we the audience are supposed to read this as a good thing.
This has always been my biggest qualm with the book. We spend so much time showing how awful this system is and the two people who do anything to try and save it are punished for it by death. Sure WWX is brought back but as soon as he’s in Mo’s body he’s aimless. JGY is of course the secondary villain of the series, but MXTX goes out of her way to make us understand that even when JGY had power, his birth kept him from actually holding any real control, and what control he did have he mostly used to get bad people out of power and make the community better (he was biased and paranoid and vengeful but MXTX’s characters are nothing if not nuanced). Why set all this up to end up in such a contradictory place?
I get that solving such big issues such as classism isn’t easy and we want a happy ending but does MDZS even have a happy ending? None of the mc’s besides LWJ and (supposedly) WWX and LSH and LJY are in good positions by the end of the story. I remember reading MDZS for the first time and thinking that LWJ would fall for WWX because of his radical ideas and eventually see that the Lans were contributing big time to this awful system that favors wealth over everything. Especially because we have a second plot line about whatever was going on with LXC and JGY. And then it just never happens. Instead the Lan sect are painted as ok just because they’re monks. The system wasn’t the issue actually it was the people in charge but don’t worry they’re gone. Life is great now that the most powerful sects are in the hands of a 15 yr old, a man with unchecked anger issues, a council of elders that think corporal punishment is the solution to everything and a man who committed to a life long bit to get out of all forms of responsibility. What could go wrong?
I’ve always thought it was strange and ooc that WWX just accepts going back to Cloud Recesses. His literal incense burner fantasy was a cottage in the woods away from society. He never really warms up to the rigidity or their bland ass food, and he doesn’t even really respect the Lans culture more than he has to. It’s clear he only lives there for his husband and son’s sake. So why am I to believe this is his fairy tale ending?
The only answer I’ve been able to grasp over the years is that the romance genre of the novel overpowers everything else.
This is what brings me back to my original point. I don’t know if MXTX’s intended to comment on class, because if she did I struggle to understand how the ending of the story fits this intention. Which means by default it wasn’t the intention, at least not the priority. I mean ok duh, obvious conclusion, this is a danmei, it’s the bl genre, of course the romance comes first, but that’s not exactly what I’m getting at. You can absolutely have a romance that comments on other things at the same time and I think MXTX’s writing is smart enough to do this, except it fumbled so hard at the end it left me questioning if she even meant to comment on classism in the first place.
A part of me thinks that all of this commentary was just a coincidence of the genre conventions. Cultivator/ historical fantasy tends to just have classism baked into setting, so maybe that’s all it was. Perhaps she was just borrowing what was already there to make interesting character motivations and it wasn’t done with any intention of commenting on any sort of greater societal issue. Which for the record would be ok. I’m not policing what MXTX should write and romance for the sake of romance is perfectly valid, but as a reader I’m allowed to say this particular instant made me dislike the actual romance she set up. These issues in the book made me actively dislike LWJ. I’m on an island about that though. Getting back to my point, I struggle to call this commentary intentional and thus things like WWX and JGY suddenly feel unintentional as well.
I also find MXTX’s own words to be contradictory at times. For instance, she’s mentioned that after SV she found writing more than one couple to be too taxing. When asked if other characters in MDZS were gay she said explicitly they were not, yet both MDZS and TGCF have unofficial side couples that are an inch away from being canon. She’s also mentioned that XY, Sl, and XXC were old characters of hers and were originally going to be the focus of the book, which leads me to believe that they would’ve been a canon love triangle. So I am skeptical when she said all the characters besides WWX and LWJ are straight. I’m not accusing her of lying or anything like that. Tolkien contradicted himself so many times in his letters and essays, it’s sort of par for the course in my opinion. What it does mean though is that I can’t get a read on her intentions. What I can gather from what she tends to focus on in her extras, interviews, and just the fact that this is the BL genre, I’m inclined to believe that a lot of these parallels are unintentional but then I circle back to just how heavy handed it all is and I’m unsure again.
Anyway this was just the world’s longest way to say that actually we don’t have any idea what her intentions are and this is why when I’m analyzing her work I make a point to not put words in her mouth.
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What app and what pencil do you use :3?
(I send u big hugs and hav a nice day :D♡)
Hehe. (Hugs back. I like hugs. XD) I believe someone else had a similar question before! I made this art then too to demonstrate how I use, Ibis Paint. The free beginner friendly drawing app! (No I'm not sponsored-) And as for the "pens", I usually go for the default brushes. As in the first basic ones you find on the app! ^v^ I've been promoting this idea for years and I'll never get tired of saying it! While fancier equipment IS nice, skills can ultimately outclass tools any day! =D In fact, sometimes limiting yourself can hone your creativity as it forces you to work with what you have and invent new ways of experimenting with materials that are often overlooked! That's how I learned. ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ -Bubbly💙
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carmenpeach · 6 days
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found this painting from when i was 16 or 17 (a little over 10 years ago now) and its an abstract self portrait, made with a mix of paintbrushes and pointillism with q tips, any color mixing done on the paper rather than pre mixed. at the time i wasnt entirely sure what the feeling in me was, but that it was something i desperately wanted to convey, of this detachment of myself from the world and my own mind i felt, every dot and stroke and mark i thought very carefully on and also let myself do it as it came to me. i felt sick making it as it distorted more, but also felt very satisfied seeing this itteration of my image come to life. it would take me years until i knew that this odd thing that tormented me was schizophrenia, so rediscovering this painting now that i know and understand myself was really touching as well as painful to look at, of this art i made and kept in secret that was as raw of my emotions as i could manage, a portrait of myself of pain and acceptance in one. the paper has over time become warped from storing and the weight of its dollar store paint.
i wasnt sure at first how i felt about sharing this or the story behind it, but being open about being schizophrenic rather than keeping it as a dark secret has brought me a lot of comfort. its let me meet and connect with a lot of people that are the same way too. i think about how happy i felt when i first saw someone on here talk about their experience and the way it perfectly mirrored my own thoughts i never shared, and it inspired me to open up in this psuedo public and private sphere. and so its nice seeing this painting that was of something dark within me now becoming a memento of that, and knowing its something that would have remained that way if it wasnt for others opening up this way too. something that had weighed on my heart that kept me in a self made cage, and how now i feel more free despite it all
all i wrote on the back was june 2013 and entitled simply "self-portrait"
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icewindandboringhorror · 10 months
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I’m always paranoid of my tumblr being deleted or malfunctioning or something like that someday, so here’s other places to find me/follow me, just in case lol
~ instagram - https://www.instagram.com/lucalicatte/
~ main youtube - https://www.youtube.com/c/LucaLiCatte
~ games/sims youtube - https://www.youtube.com/@cloudycatte
~ facebook page (I rarely use this because I hate facebook but.. it at least allows text posts better than instagram does, so idk maybe I’d use it more if tumblr went away? lol) - https://www.facebook.com/cloudycatteart/
~ Other Links (stuff I don’t use often/isn’t Main enough to list here, like twitter, neopets, other tumblr sideblogs, youtube channels, etc.) are here - http://icewindandboringhorror.tumblr.com/otherlinks )
#An updated version of this since some of the links on the old one are no longer the same lol#I might make a website website one day (not with a custom domain since I'm not paying for that/dont have the money lol#but like a 'my name.weebly.com type thing lol) but I haven't had the time recently. If I ever get around to it I'll update the post and#reblog that version. ANYWAY.. I just like to have one of these written out to reblog every once in a while. During the once ever few months#when poeple are like 'tumblr is failing again! it wont survive!' which has happened like 80 times but I'm still always like :0c what if!#also love the ms paint art done with a mouse ghhj#ANYWAY.. also if you want to see the stinky game I made that's not actually related to my own worldbuilding really (why I have never#posted anything about it publilcy because it's like.. how do I talk about it lol) I have my itch.io linked in the 'other links' page#as well as my General Projects blog. which talks about all the ongoing and upcoming projects I want to do that are#actually set in my world and can give you previews of some of the things I'm working on. Currently resuming my Game after abandoning it#basically for the entire pandemic and a little before that - as mentioned before - so that's OUgh.. in terms of A Lot Of Work#Especially since while kind of 'revamping and updating' I want to add a few features which are mostly easy but every once in a while#I don't understand something and it's like....... hGGhh...... Ironically despite Blogging I just hate talking to people in public open foru#.. I love privacy and security lol.. and I always feel that ONE day I am going to have a question that has not already been asked on a foru#somewhere and I am going to have to post myself and.. no.. I shan't even imagine it.. It's not even really social anxiety it's just like..#efficiency.. instead of wating like days to get an accurate response and resolve the problem with the general public I would rather just ha#e a one time 30min conversation with an expert and resolve it quickly. PLUS then I also only interact with One stranger instead of Many Of#Them lol.. any 6+ yrs of experience Ren'py experts hmu so I can pay you like $50 to have a single 45min conversation#with me over an insanely simple question and then never talk to you again until a year later when I have a second question. hhjb#ANYWAY.. I still really don't like instagram or it's layout and I never understood how it works like.. if I should be tagging photos or wha#or how you really use it and I just... euGH... stimky.. but it is one of the most popular so I feel obligated to link it. I wish facebook w#sn't such a nasty poo poo because I do actually like the variety of posts you can make and how Pages on facebook operate. In the scense of#it being similar to tumblr that you can make a VARIETy of styles of post. not just Only Post Photos or Only Short Text or Only Video which#is still like.. how the funk does sutff like that even get popular lol.. the Limited nature.. hewwo.. but alas.. and NO way I'm touching#fucking Threads please do not make an account on there and don't let your friends do it and don't let that shit catch on lol.#BUT YEahg... links...... just in case.. i hope tumblr stays aroundin it's current format forever though lol..#I'm pretty sure even facebook doesn't have audio posts. or tags the way this does. or CHRONOLOGICAL FEED. custom html for pages.. aaaaa
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imidori-ya · 2 months
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Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros is literal hot garbage and I will die on this hill.
#like it’s literally one of the worst constructed/written books I have ever encountered#how on earth could Yarros be married to a 20+ year military vet and yet still not even understand the most basic military concepts#it’s honestly astounding how brain dead her characters are#the way she writes makes it abundantly obvious that she thinks her readers are a bunch of idiots#who need every single story theme and element hand fed to them#the introduction of Varrish was just utter bullshit#she could have painted ‘VILLAIN’ on his forehead and it would’ve been less obvious#please tell us again how smart your main character is while she proceeds to do the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen#‘oh why won’t xaden trust me with rebellion secrets even though I basically announce my suspicions of the empire at every turn?’#idk violet maybe it’s bc you won’t do the mind training they’ve been telling you to do#so you’re constantly vulnerable to the mindreader YOU KNOW PERSONALLY#maybe that’s why no one tells you anything???#also holy shit her being like ‘I have to be careful and not let the empire know I’m questioning my duties’#and then immediately crashing into a scribe meeting to request more red flag reading??#like??? was she kicked in the head???#also the dragons stating multiple times that humans are basically like ants to them and they don’t care if they live or die#but simultaneously having to somehow be subserveant to the military????#bitch why weren’t you all enslaved by the dragons#this is such nonsense#also her prose is ass#come back when you can tell the difference between parse and parcel Rebecca#yeah a lot of my complaints are iron flame related#but that’s just bc it really hit home how bad this all is with the second book#net zero improvement#way to fail downwards Rebecca#ALSO!! what evil empire would conscript their enemies children into the one branch of their military where they get DRAGONS and SUPERPOWERS#like what??!!#in what world#what military would be so afraid of a new rebellion that they conscript the people with deep emotional ties to the old rebellion???#if real militaries worked this way there would be no more war bc we’d all be dead
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bloomingsalma · 6 months
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okay... so I get why I was hesitating to watch soulmate (2023)
#beautiful film#like the cinematography and scenery was so incredibly lush with comfort and nostalgia#so many rich colours so many interesting shots and angles so many different + distinct sets/places#and yeah it just. yeah. it really was heartbreaking#I already knew the big twist so it didn't shock me but the film did leave me with a bit of a sad ache#just seeing the ebbs and flows of their friendship and the longing they both have for each other. the intrinsic and eternal string that#link them together forever more. was just so beautiful#as someone who values their friendships a lot it was so beautiful to see a film centering on the eternal nature of true friendship#and how true deep friendship can almost be soul binding in which you guys never truly leave each other no matter the pain or distance#how those old friendships stay with you forever and how those friends you'd always return to because a piece of you still resides in their#palms#the film did a wonderful job between flashbacks too and leaving things ambiguous at times#spoilers ahead!!!#but what was most saddening to me was the years and happiness lost due to their miscommunication and intense love for each other that#actually ended up making them not address their problems with each other and therefore have their friendship fall apart#like. if they had just communicated about the guy and didn't distance themselves from each other#and if miso hadn't left the hotel after the Busan trip and they had just had a conversation about the fight#like. so much of the conflict and resentment and pain and distance wouldn't have happened#they could have travelled together painted together spent their years together#if just the most minute things had been different if they had just used their love as reason to address their problems rather than run away#they could've had so much they could've had so many years together if they had just spoken to each other#and that is the most heartbreaking of all. that they could've had a life together if things had been different#and just seeing the transition from their innocent and freeing childhood + teenagehood into the conflicts hardships and growth of adulthood#is painful too#just that loss of youthful freedom love friendship dreams and entering into the harsh and difficult reality#when things are no longer always about sitting under the sun with your friend and watching the sea#yeah that was hard#salmaspeaks#films#soulmate (2023)
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fingertipsmp3 · 6 months
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Just remembered another fucked up paint story (will put in tags because idk I like talking in tags more than actually in the post)
#so my friend works in a shop in which they do a lot of stuff with tools. and they’ve recently moved location so they didn’t have a tool#board or anything. so she’s there by herself this one day; it’s a quiet day (because they’ve just opened and no one knows they’re there)#and she’s like ‘i’ve got this giant plank of wood; i’m going to make a tool board i can mount on this wall’. so she gets it sized#how she wants it and idk.. cuts and sands it. don’t ask me i’m not good at carpentry. but then she’s like ‘i want to paint this black so th#tools will show up better and it’ll show up against the wall and look good’ so she finds some black acrylic paint in the shop#quickly she realises that the shit is watery as fuck and it will probably take 6-7 coats to be opaque and she’s like.. i don’t have that#kind of time. i work 7 hour shifts. i have to serve customers and fix stuff with my tools#so she calls up this 83 year old man that she randomly knows? i still don’t know how she met this man. not that it’s weird to know an 83#year old man but i still don’t know under what circumstances she met him or why they continue each other’s acquaintance. anyway.#she rings him and he’s like ‘i’ve got this black paint that was my granddad’s. it’s yours if it’s still functional as paint’#so she takes him up on that and he drives to the shop (no idea if this man has a license or can see or even should be driving btw)#and drops off this gigantic tin of pre-war black paint. she opens it and it’s rock solid. the brush doesn’t go in. she has to stab it with#a chisel. however once she does that; the paint underneath is like a dream. the texture is perfectly smooth and opaque in one coat#she finishes painting though and her hands and forearms are COVERED in the stuff. and it doesn’t wash off#by the time she came to see me and told me this story she’d showered three times and scrubbed her arms and most of it was still on there#i was like ‘you realise that you are going to die of lead poisoning from this pre civil war lead paint right?’ and she was like ‘yep’#‘but look at the tool board!’ ‘fuck the tool board does look great actually’ ‘right??’#so that’s the story of the fucked up paint. what made me a little crazy is that that century old paint dried faster than whatever paint my#dad gave me to paint that model bomb shelter. how does that shit make sense#it didn’t dry up in the can over the course of a hundred years but it dried on the board. explain#personal
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crowned-ladybug · 2 years
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Vision doodle to wind down from a busy but overall wonderful day and turn my brain off to painting
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serdtse · 2 years
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i have only two enemies in my life: myself and watercolour paints
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weaponizedmoth · 25 days
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I could never be J.C. Leyendecker but I could be my own artist, y'know?
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arolesbianism · 4 months
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I should rly play portal, but at the same time I find it kind of funny to have it continue to exist as that one game I'd fuck around with the physics in as a lil kid instead of actually doing the puzzles in my memories especially since I'm sure I'd have rly liked glados if I actually bothered to actually progress in the video game I was playing
#rat rambles#also Im just not in the market for a new interest rn but its still on the to play list#theres a lot of games I played as a kid that I never actually progressed in much due to me just fucking around instead#tbf I still kind of do that sometimes but thats mostly just when Im talking to ppl#12 year old me may have played video games very differently from current me#but I still spend too much time painting ever last spec of lobbies in splatoon#also Ive always been one to set arbitrary callanges for myself in video games I just would do it all post game as a kid#like Id breed new pokemon and go through each route with them in order#nowadays I just do the normal thing and start a new game to do challenges#tbf I didn't know how to restart pokemon games as a kid#if I did I would have actually played pokemon black instead of just sitting there with my hacked copy like ok guess Ill make my own fun#the first pokemon game I actually played fully was soul silver oddly enough#I also spent a lot of time fucking about in loz windwaker and twilight princess not actually progressing the plot#tbf I did actually try with those two I was just a kind of dumb kid who didnt know where to go to progress the story#although tbf part 2 I have always struggled with reading and focus and memory shit so I assume I just wasnt reading the dialogue well#even tho I liked reading books as a kid Id still skip and skim through most of the books a read since it was so hard to read for me#it still is to be clear but yknow#theres a chance I might be dyslexic but Im just gonna blame my adhd for now and call it good
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luveline · 3 months
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(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧
Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡ 
cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago. 
A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch. 
“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you. 
“I wanna see Max.” 
“She has to be here somewhere.” 
That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest. 
Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here. 
Steve frowns at you worriedly. 
“Who died?” asks a new voice.
You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers. 
“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips. 
“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”
“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes. 
“Is it awful?” you ask. 
“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult. 
“Who’s throwing up?” you ask. 
“Dustin. He’s outside.” 
Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.” 
He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes. 
“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.
You school your impression. “Like what?” 
“Like you like him.” 
You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?” 
She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?” 
“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings. 
“Looks like something. Are you dating?” 
“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.” 
“He was touching you a lot.” 
“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely. 
“Ew,” Max says with a laugh. 
“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s— 
“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder. 
You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug. 
“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly. 
Oh, boy, you think. 
As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.
From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy. 
Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet. 
“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.” 
“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.
“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.” 
“Steve.” 
“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.” 
“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty. 
“What?” he asks. 
His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles 
You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.” 
“Are you okay?” 
“What?” 
“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.” 
“I sounded weird?” 
“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.” 
You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it. 
“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do. 
“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.” 
Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice. 
“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.” 
You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something. 
After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie? 
“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged. 
You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews. 
“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way. 
He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused. 
“You were in the way of the light.” 
“That what it was?”
“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself. 
“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?” 
Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks. 
“It’s good.” 
“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.” 
He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you. 
Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise! 
You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this. 
You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing. 
He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs. 
You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes. 
“You okay?” he whispers. 
You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek. 
Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.
The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen. 
A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say. 
“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.
“I really like you, Steve.” 
He stares at you. “…But?”
“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.” 
“I thought…” And of course he did. 
“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.” 
He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.” 
“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes. 
“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious. 
“Yeah.” 
Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.” 
“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”
“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether. 
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.” 
“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.” 
“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks. 
“I like you too!” he says loudly. 
A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?” 
You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again. 
“You okay?” he asks tightly. 
“I’m sorry.”
He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?” 
You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.” 
He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?” 
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 
“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?” 
You nod vehemently. 
Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”
—♡—
The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm. 
A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.
“I think I might melt.” 
“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you. 
“You can be my parasol.” 
“Your what?” 
“It’s a sun umbrella.” 
“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up. 
You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.
He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.” 
If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay. 
“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur. 
He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?” 
“That’s perfect.” 
“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly. 
“No… I’m thinking.” 
“Nothing good ever comes of that.” 
“I have something I want to talk to you about.”
“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 
You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight. 
“It’s a question.” 
He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world. 
“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.” 
“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”
He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.” 
“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.” 
His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start. 
“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem. 
“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur. 
His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it. 
You tip your head aside to catch your breath.
“Better late than never,” you joke. 
Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.” 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️
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ew-selfish-art · 8 months
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DPxDC Au: Normally when Danny vandalizes ancient cave walls and historic places on his 'favor' missions for Clockwork, he gets sent back to erase them. But no, apparently this time, when Danny added his actual phone number into some painting, he's not allowed to go back and fix it. Ugh.
...
Tim has had the painting of Bruce professionally reviewed a few times since the old Bat was retrieved from the time stream. He's not entirely sure how the painting still exists, he's not even sure that it matters any more... But one day Tim catches something new in the painting.
It was small, and it could've just been the light at first but... Is that a phone number in the background?? It looks like black marker on the black curtains and it makes him feel feral. The family is kinder this time about how they think he's gone crazy- but each one of them admit that they can't remember a phone number ever being present.
The lab reports that the number was added over the paint- and that it's an ink based marking akin to a sharpie but like, hundreds of years old. So... It's been added recently but not at all recently enough for Tim to have an explanation.
Tim doesn't want to hear any more of his family members opinions on the matter and he certainly isn't going to just, stop investigating or something stupid like that. So, he takes the painting to the tower, gathers his team (Cassie, Kon and Bart), and they call the number in the middle of the night after a lot of planning/back-and-forth/catastrophizing.
It doesn't answer until the final ring, and the static that comes through the phone is bone chilling. A deep, monstrous groan which echoed with agony fills the room.
"I have a math test in like, three hours, who the fuck are you and why the fuck are you calling in the middle of the night?" The voice now complains, still sounding vaguely inhuman despite it's very human word choices.
"Your number is in a historical painting, we had a few questions but uh, you can call us back later?" Tim cringes as he says it but he hadn't planned on having to reply to someone trying to go back to bed. Or someone who was apparently also a teenager. (He had so, so many contingency plans for like, every kind of villain, alien or demon. lame.)
"...Ugh. might as well." The voice calls out, agreeing with a sigh that echos so deeply the team can feel it in their bones.
"Cool. Good luck on your test?" Tim offers.
"Mph." And the line hangs up.
...
Danny is at lunch with Sam and Tucker when he remembers the late night call. He'd spent the morning bitching about never getting a full night of sleep and it finally occurred to him what had happened. Of course his friends think it's hilarious that CW wouldn't let him erase his number. Of course they do.
They stop laughing when Danny calls the number back.
"Hello, this is Red Robin of Gotham. I have Superboy, Wonder girl and Impulse present with me. How did your math test go?"
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