hello gents

Hello Ladies and Gents

Hiya y’all. Riley here. It feels weird writing a post without Dark here.. wheeze. Anywho, I am here to clear up a few points of confusion in order to make things as easy as possible.

“Figments”, “the Void”, and “Figment Darkiplier” are not cannon. They were not produced by the original creator of Darkiplier (Mark Fischbach), and are an interpretation made by yours truly. What that means, is that it is not an openly sharable idea that can be passed from person to person without credit.

http://ask-sadisticdark.tumblr.com/copyright

This link brings you to a super boring page that describes the ownership of the developed idea of Figments, the Void, the Council and specifically my ASD Darkiplier. Myself, solely as a creator, developed the Figment character, the Void location to match, the Council, and the ASD Darkiplier.

What the page also mentions is that you are FREE TO USE THE FIGMENT AND VOID IDEAS. However, they are some expectations to such a use. Obviously, you were not the one who came up with the idea. It is also not a cannon character (not a creation by the original owner). Therefore, it is expected, and necessary, for those who desire to use “Figment” and “the Void” in specifics with what I myself have created, to offer proper credit.

Take it as the same as someone reposting artwork that is not theirs, without stating where they got the art from. Essentially, lack of credit is the same as claiming it to be your own.

The proper credit details just making it accessible somewhere for where you got the idea from. Tagging me once in a random rp post from a month ago counts, as long as it can be found somewhere. If someone asks “cool figment idea”, you are also expected to respond with “thanks, ASD got me hooked af on that one.”

It sounds all lecturey and eew and I’m not mad at anyone, but I’ve seen a few counts where it has been used on other blogs without any mentions or whatever and blah blah. I hold onto my creation very dearly, and I don’t want anyone else trying to take from me what I worked hard on.

Also side note: I’m not stating Darkiplier is my character cause hell to the no, that belongs solely to Mark Fischbach. So, if you want to do a Dark character as a figment, totally cool. Just with dat credit for the figment part, you feel.

Anywho, I love y’all and am super happy to see lots using the figment stuff to make their own characters. Keep it up y’all, and sorry for sounding like a fucking parent.

Kiss the Girl

Summary: Literally based on The Little Mermaid’s “Kiss the Girl,” Bucky develops a crush on you after seeing you in various of Tony’s soirees, but is too shy to go up to you. 

Word Count: 2,304

Warnings: None.

A/N: Something quick I whipped up. Hope you all enjoy. This is fluffy af.

Originally posted by adoroituoigrovigli


“It’ll be fun!” Tony had said. And honestly, Bucky felt like punching him, just breaking his nose, or bruising him enough in such a way that he would never suggest this to Bucky again.

How could a room full of drunk, screaming people could be fun? Bucky grimaced, as yet another girl sidled up to him and batted her eyelashes at him. He shook his head and gave her a polite smile.

Keep reading

6

Hello there ladies and gents! Thank you for waiting through my brief hiatus in the big apple! I thought you guys might enjoy a tutorial on how I go about on drawing legs. Unlike many, I don’t really like how thin and shapeless a lot of simplified legs look so I add a little meat into logical places (outside of thigh, calf muscles, et cetera). I also define the ankles and knees. I also put a bit of effort into the toes. The natural shape of the leg has a slight S shape, and is never perfectly straight. At the top of the leg is not strictly horizontal either, due to the structure of human hips and pelvis. Hope this was useful! Caio!

The R.R. Phenomena; A Summary and Addition - By Leon Rekjavik

Hello again, ladies, gents. 

Epic-essay writer Leon Rekjavik is here again! Today, I just felt like posting more analysis on R.R.’s posts, because, they’ve quite clearly changed since the last time I wrote an analysis on R.R. 

For those who have literally no idea who I am, a couple weeks ago, I wrote a long essay where I talked about R.R. in general, as a person, everything, and submitted it to the awesome ask-art-student-prussia blog here, because R.R. is only present here, seemingly. This was back when everyone kept doing those jokes on R.R.

Why do I even write this stuff about some random person who anonymously posts asks on this blog? I don’t know actually, I just feel like I NEED TO, for some reason. To serve some justice to this sweet, person…?

Anywho, now onto the analysis!

———————————————————————————————————

Initially when R.R. came to this blog, they were merely someone who posted these asks to this blog talking about how much they admired the work Mun uploaded onto this blog, but at the same time, talked about themselves in a self-deprecating manner. 

Now, when I say “merely”, I don’t actually mean “merely”. When R.R. writes, it’s not just a random ask, they standout with the the things they submit. A lot of time and effort is put into each ask they put through, and they clearly care a lot for Mun as a person, as an artist, etc. There’s a poetic drive of admiration when they send something, yet they always seem to constantly try to remind everyone, that no, don’t see me- see Mun! See how beautiful their art is.

No one knows who R.R. is, which is a shame, but, I think it’s understandable. At this point in time, where a single R.R. post receives 35 notes on Tumblr, anyone who’d claim they are R.R. (even the real one) would immediately be shot down as a fake. Such a case were very prominent some weeks back, when a trashy meme started circling around the blog.

Other than R.R.’s writing prowess, there’s also the mystery of their identity, and that’s what the real interest is with R.R. Who are they? As mentioned in the previous analysis, R.R. loves this blog, clearly a lot, but wants to remain hidden due to their insecurities, however, at the same time, they want some way to be recognised. This is where the signature end to each R.R. post comes, “-R.R.”. This is their trademark, their way of showing the world, yes, I am R.R. and this is the post I send to you, Mun showing my love! In a purely platonic way, of course, or at least assume.

Unfortunately, being the Internet, the trashy-meme became very popular, with people claiming they were R.R., when they clearly weren’t. This wasn’t just a one-off incident. This lasted for several days, and even resulted with R.R. actually writing a post, where they said that they felt that their presence had caused Mun trouble. Now, remember, R.R. loves Mun, this blog, and everything with it. All this attention that had enshrouded R.R. wasn’t why R.R. even began putting posts out with their insignia. They didn’t want attention.They wanted to show their love to Mun and her art. Though, this had an entirely backfiring effect. Now Mun's blog was all about them. 

So, R.R. decided to take LEAVE from the blog.

And tragically, this transpired literally right after the submitted an analysis that was made for people to understand R.R. better as a person and to back them up (nobody understands the crippling deprussian I went through, because of that. However, all this information is dumb and irrelevant, because no one cares about me lololol). 

R.R. decided to take leave from this blog, because they felt that their love DAMAGED this blog and what it was made and known for to begin with. With this, the silence period began. No posts from R.R., not a sound. People began apologising profusely, some people even coming out from anonymity and saying they were sorry. The blog went back to how it originally was- an art-student Prussia blog. However, a lonely ache remained with those who knew about R.R. 

This is a direct copy and past of what R.R. wrote in terms of leaving the blog, in two separate posts:

“I’m very sorry Gil, but this is the last ask I’ll submit. I’m afraid my presence has caused disruption to your blog. Those previous asks from yesterday were not mine. I won’t submit anymore asks after this one with my initials to avoid anymore trouble for you. For those saying I’m doing this for attention, I will probably never reveal my true identity out of fear. So you’ll never know who I am. Farewell, Gil. It was lovely sending asks those few times. I hope you’re successful with your blog.”

“-R.R. (I ran out of characters)”

You see, everyone who posts stuff on this blog either does an M/A! ask, or a question to Prussia or even Mun directly, or just saying stuff, and I quote, “I love this blog. Please have my babies.” No one, and I mean, no one, wrote the way R.R. did. They were special, people loved their pureness, and they missed it. 

And then, it happened. R.R. RETURNED, and they returned in a manner worth bragging about, for centuries to come (I am not exaggerating). 

“Perhaps one day, when time is nothing but the movement of leaves, and the sun’s died, there will be a moment of solace where everything is just everything, and nothing is just something. The next moment in ‘time’, they will not exist, but with lives so fleeting, even a moment is extensive enough. Their last words will be “thank you”, before they’re suffocated by heat and dust. Humanity’s falling grace would have echoes permeating light years away. -The one who left this blog, R.R.“

They came back, with POETRY. And it wasn’t just any poetry- it was MAJESTIC poetry, as you can see above. This piece got 31 notes- it is rare for an anonymous post with no picture underneath, no nothing from Mun, purely the anon, to get that many notes. 

As if that’s not enough, R.R. returned, YET AGAIN!: 

"Fatherland, o’ dear noble creature of war. From the moment of your creation, you struck the soil with the sword of your soul, sending tremors leagues away, notifying every breathing being of your presence. Your tenacious nature and valiant efforts bleed through history’s timeline, embedding itself over the course of countless lives. We shan’t forget your existence, for none would be here now without your cause for our effect. You will return to us again, one day, in solidarity. -R.R.”

Can I say I fanboyed/fangirled when I was this, as unprofessional as it is? 

(and this is where leon rekjavik gives up on professionalism completely)

LOOK AT THIS FINE ART, MY FRIENDS. THAT IS LIFE IN IT’S PUREST AND R.R. IS GODLY POET. CAN WE JUST LOVE THIS HUMAN BEING, LIKE A LOT. YES, THIS IS THE ONE THAT 35 NOTES HOLY ****!

I honestly don’t care what gender, sexuality, species, ANYTHING you are {(unless you are secretly evil like that anon said; 

“…-Anyways, from the very few asks they’ve posted, they seem cute, whether they’re boy or girl. And cute people don’t fake stuff unless they’re secretly evil (omg R.R. please be a pureroll).”}

I LOVE YOUR WORK!

(and this is where leon rekjavik gains their sanity again)

Excuse me for that.

Of course, the R.R. hype sort of came back, with people all but screaming in the ask-boxes about R.R.’s comeback, poetry prowess, just everything R.R. There were some sceptics, but that’s just the general Internet. Everything was back in the flow. Then, some people began to ask… questions. Like, what’s R.R.’s sexuality, what do you think R.R. looks like? I think R.R. is a boy/girl! No, they’re not a boy/girl, come fight me.

And then, R.R. replied, in the most sweetest, most serene way humanly possible:

To those who wish to know my face, look away from hither, for you shall not find the answers you seek for. Whether I find myself interested in boys or girls is nothing special. For now, why not enjoy the sweet summer that rains down from the sky, for it only lasts a few months before it’s a memory again. Leave your homes and walk bare-foot on the grass, feel the wind on your face, hear the nature around you. We don’t know if we’ll have a future where such luxuries exist. -R.R.

They have talent, and I don’t care what anyone says. Fight me. 

This new era of R.R. is obviously a way of R.R. showing their love to this blog, by submitting a form of art, poetry! And Lord, does it compliment the blog so well with the was they weave the words…

——————————————————————————————————

I wanted to write more, but I can’t…

Anyways, that’s a summary/analysis/explanation thing for R.R., for now, from Leon Rekjavik!

I was thinking of actually making a master-post for the R.R. asks, if Mun would be okay with that. I’m just another visitor to this blog, who likes your work a lot, but I couldn’t help but notice the amount of times someone posted an ask asking who is R.R. It may help clear some things up, and just help the people catch up with the entire R.R. phenomena.

I don’t know why I do these, even now… mysteries are just so fun to look through I guess?

I’m sorry if this wasn’t written as nicely as the other one I did. This is a link to the previous one if anyone is interested, it explains everything R.R. to the point, like it’s a must read:

https://ask-art-student-prussia.tumblr.com/post/162708791482/the-case-of-rr-an-analysis-by-leon-rekjavik

I’m not doing this in any form of promotion or attention. If you look at my Tumblr, I literally have nothing in my posts. It’s because I just like looking for cool blogs like Mun's here, and don’t feel like posting anything I do personally. 

I just want R.R. to be understood a bit better, that’s it. Also, I have a little too much spare time on my hands… (at the moment. Just wait for college to start).

I hoped you liked it.

Bye.

-Leon Rekjavik (it’s still not my real name, try finding me, stalker!)

P.S

Mun, please accept my humble submission! Don’t throw it in the reject pile!


how the fuck did you write all this what the hell oh m y hofdod?

Hello ladies and gents! I just wanted to give a quick update for those who take the time to read these things.

I’m working on a very ambitious project for the first time in years, since I used to be some edgy little teenager writing short stories about I was the best at everything or something like that. No, this project is nothing like that.

The project I’m working on is a webcomic called Alderburg. The comic in and of itself is a story of a young spectacled bear living in a small town trying to get his life back together and pull himself out of a pit of depression with the help of some friends. I’m loosely basing the story off of some real-life experiences. Characters in this comic are all anthromorphic animals, so yes it’ll be a furry sort of thing. I’m hoping you’ll enjoy the storyline I’ve been putting together, and that this project will be at least somewhat of a success for myself, just to see how far I’ve come in terms of artistic skill.

As of now I don’t have a solid upload schedule, but I do have the first ten pages planned out already, and I’m ideally going to upload new pages weekly.

Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you’re looking forward to seeing what Alderburg has to offer!

anonymous asked:

What's the silliest au idea you decided not to post? Only if you want of course, but you talk about writing stuff only to delete it all the time and im so curious now

The Lads as street magicians with actual magic. They busk on the streets of Los Santos, flashy tricks and slight of hand, enough to draw little crowds and get a couple of dollars from the few generous people in their hellhole city. Enough to distract from the way they’re robbing the less kind-hearted souls blind right before their eyes.

Its a neat trick, hiding their abilities in plain sight, enduring some sneers and shoves and attempts to work them out in return for a tidy profit. They don’t take too much, don’t want to draw too much attention to themselves, can’t risk getting caught out; you never know who’s a big name in this town. Never know who’s armed and dangerous, and the fear of pissing off one gang or another is all too real.

So they don’t make bank but they’re doing ok, they’ve gone from the streets to their own apartment; a shitty one-bedroom hole-in-the-wall but it’s not nothing. They’ve always got enough to eat, they get to play with their powers in broad daylight and they’ve got each other; who could ask for more?

But then, of course, come the Gents. The Gents who all trained their magic through the proper channels, came from families or communities where the existence of their abilities was an open secret, but have gone rogue for their own enrichment, joined up to take the mundane criminal world by storm. So when they walk past a couple of kids performing with real magic they notice, when the kids try to relieve them of their wealth they notice, and the Lads? The lads scatter.

It’s not a response they all agree with, flight over fight will never sit well on Michael or Jeremy, but it’s smarter. It’s what they’d agreed on, in the face of police or gangs or any kind of threat, get out, get safe and regroup. Undignified maybe, but better to keep their powers hidden and live on to fight another day.

But the Gents are no normal civilian adversaries, they have no problem keeping up, so when the Lads find themselves unnaturally corralled and cornered in a secluded alley they have themselves a little showdown anyway. The Gents think its cute at first, little baby sparks with their pretty, harmless powers trying to come up against 3 high level professionals, alright good luck kids. It’s not like the Gents are looking for a fight anyway, are curious more than anything, and waiting for the boys to exhaust themselves should be a piece of cake.  

Except the lads haven’t made it out here on their own for this long without perfecting some mighty strong attacks and repellents, have been practising on each other every day, and the only motivator better than fear for yourself is fear for those you love. They’re vicious, dirty untrained magic, wildly instinctual and impossible to predict, a maelstrom of impenetrable chaos. It’s impressive, unusual and creative and inherently difficult to combat, and hello hello the Gents could absolutely use that kind of edge in their endeavour.

(this is where some actual substance would go but instead i gave up and threw it out..)

“When have any of our plans ever actually worked? We plan, we get there, and then all hell breaks loose.” Albus rolled his eyes, with a hint of a good natured smile. The boy unwrapped the chocolate frog in his hands, and threw it in his mouth before the jump, but was terribly disappointed as he looked at the card. “Oh no, dad again? I mean, I already have at least twenty of these. Wanna keep it?”

hello!
  • Bom gente,eu quero agradecer aos 469 seres de luz que compartilham comigo meus sentimentos❤
  • Quero comunicar também que vocês podem me mandar pedidos de textos,status,etc pelo chat,beijos seus lindoss!

“Hello there, darlings and gents. Would you be so kind as to give a humble drawing such as my self a visit? It gets quite lonely in this dreary place, and I’d love some good company~”
_______________________________

Please like or reblog if you’d be interested in a starter from a heavily headcannoned Angel Alice!
Please note that this Alice is trapped as a drawing on a poster, and does not have her own body as Bendy and Boris might.

twitter.com
Shu 🍁 on Twitter
“can we talk about how pcap was chilling by Clara's area when fans approached him?”

It touching enough that as his time as the Doctor comes to an end Peter was hanging out among what is basically a huge collection of mementos, but yeah, he could have been by the TARDIS consoles or some other part of the exhibit. Instead he was at Clara/Jenna’s shrine.

And not just fans came to say hello. The gent pictured here is Terry Molloy, who played Davros in the Davison, Colin Baker and McCoy eras and regularly plays Davros and other characters for Big Finish.

Hello Ladies and Gent’!
Would be super kind to like and/or reblog if you’d be interested to roleplay with Yusuke Kitagawa from the recently NA released Persona 5 game.

  • SPOILER FREE. I won’t post anything plot-related until quite a while or P5 stuff that’d remove some fun into discovering the game so no S.Link/Confidant stuff or even gags.
  • My queue will be Art and Japanese stuff too related to Yusuke’s interests, no P5 in-game content outside official art that’s already been released like his character design. Anything fanart reblogged will be purely non-related to the canon content.
  • Fair warning that I won’t be roleplaying with P5 characters (canon or OC) written by people who didn’t finish the game or at least played the majority of it. Canons and muses non-related to P5 are more than welcome to hop in the bandwagon!

Be ready for…

  • Posing nude.
  • Fancy phrased sexual innuendos.
  • #fabulous
  • Can I borrow you 200 yens for the washing machine because I’m an artist thus I’m rich in culture but I’m broke AF and can’t wash one of my three set of clothes.

Hello ladies & gents~ Seeing all the awesome simblrs and stories/gameplay on my dash makes me a happy person! And considering I’ve seen quite a few people put up requests for sims/needed sims, I’d thought I’d put up some TS4 Sim requests! Now, I am a berry sweet simblr but I can do vanilla/banilla sims too, don’t you worry :3 the only thing is I’d probably only be able to upload to the gallery since I’m not too sure how tray files work :/ So I’m thinking 5 people this time around and if that fills up fast, I shall open it up for more:

  • Male or Female:
  • CC or No CC:
  • Name/Traits/Aspirations:
  • Description (body shape, hair type, any important facial features):
  • Berry/Vanilla/Banilla:
  • Public or Private DL:
  • Anything else you want to mention?:

So just drop me a message into my inbox and I’ll add a list to this post once I get some requests in :D 

My Current List:

  1. 108sims 
  2. @namea
  3. @silencedvixen
  4. indielectualll
Under the Mask. Leonard Snart x Reader

Request: snart/reader? Where snart is interested in reader despite her appearance. Reader’s face is filled with scars <from accident or an attack> n she has low self esteem because of it. Protective!snart pls.

Entering S.T.A.R. Labs was the best part of every day for you. Your three closest friends Cisco, Caitlyn, and Barry all worked there alongside you. It was also one of the only places you truly felt like a person again. No one besides the S.T.A.R. Labs team could look at you without only seeing the scars spilling over your features.

The bitter irony was you got them before ever being a vigilante. You got them being a civilian.

Your mind flashed back for the millionth time to that night. He targeted you through the crowd. Before long he cornered you on the porch. He tried to grope you, and your self defence classes kicked in. You landed several hits to his nose and jaw before he pulled a switchblade. Screeching curses, he slashed you three times across the face; the cheek, the nose, and across your eye, barely not blinding you. You had screamed so loudly people inside heard it over the music and came rushing out.

He had been arrested, but the damage was done. Three jagged scars would forever spread across your face like a spiderweb. You couldn’t go out without looks of pity from every face you’d meet, even your old friends.

On a night with you once again hiding out in your house, trying to hide your scars with different make up tricks but failing miserably, the particle accelerator hit. When you woke up two days later you were in the hospital, several tubes protruding out of your arms. In a rushed shock you ripped the IVs out. This was when you discovered your metahuman change. The holes in your skin healed instantly, without a trace.

It had given you hope your scars were gone, but here you stood, joking with Cisco, scarred face and all. “So what made you think red for the Barry’s costume? Why not say…blue?” You prodded Cisco playfully.

He stared at you in distain, “Blue? You kidding me? Might as well named him Sonic the freakin’ Hedgehog with blue!”

You snorted and Cisco laughed. “What’s so funny sweetheart?” A familiar voice drawled, coming around the corner. Flustered you grabbed your helmet and popped it on quickly, with only your (H/C) hair visible. To hide your face Cisco helped you retrofit a motorcycle helmet to match your costume, so no criminal could recognize your scars. The only differences really made were a speaker system for your voice and a paint job for the “hero look” you and Cisco loved to design. Leonard Snart sauntered in, eyeing you with the helmet. “Really (Y/N)? I already know your name? Is a mask really necessary?”

You sighed heavily, “It’s my business Snart,”

“And speaking of business, what is yours in being here Snart? Cause if you intend to try and steal something of ours, I don’t think you’ll make it past security here,” Cisco proudly patted your shoulder. You grinned under the (F/C) helmet.

Snart just rolled his eyes, “Barry asked me to hit up some leads for one of your cases, but the hitting up could use a little more hit,” he glance your way, “Looking for someone who can fight some hitmen and come away standing. What do you say our personal Phantom of the Opera comes with me?”

“Knocking some information out of some losers doesn’t sound like the worst way to spend my afternoon,” you hopped out of your seat and crossed to the doorway with Leonard waiting, “Cisco, let Barry know so if this idiotic ice cube tries anything he knows who to totally smack down.”

“Got it, see you when your done,” Cisco called as you and Snart made for the exit down the hall.

“You know I wouldn’t pull anything with you,” Snart commented, holding the door for you.

“I know, I know,” you waved a hand nonchalantly, “you have that deal with Barry locking you away if you mess with any of us.”

“That’s not what I meant…” He grumbled, but the words brushed right by you.

As he drove you couldn’t help but notice the features of his face. This had become a habit of yours ever since your own features had been hacked at. His cheekbones stood out equally, unlike yours which had one protruding thanks to scar tissue. His lips almost always held a straight line, yet seemed to express so much thought. Or at least you thought they did. His eyes were your favorite part, with so many shades of blue layered upon each other to create an unreadable look. He was attractive, no doubt, and that might be why you hesitate at showing your own face.

One silent car ride later and you and Snart made your way into a local dive bar. You looked over at Snart, who nodded at the group you were about to interrogate rather forcefully. They were easy to make out, so cocky with expensive watches and clothes unlike the other patrons. You marched over but Snart caught your wrist with his fingers before you could lift your arms to swing.

“Hello gents, I can see by those delightful grins on your faces you’re all pleased to see me again,” he began, the group clearly annoyed, “Now me and my feisty friend here would just like some information on a certain hydro-kinetic individual, and then we’ll be on our way.” The closest goon responded by striking you with a bottle in the shoulder, wrenching it from the socket. You huffed in mild discomfort before rolling it back into place, lifting the hand Snart still held. “Guess you need a little convincing from my lady friend,” with that, he released your hand and the fun began.

The same moron who tried to clock you with a bottle smashed it against the table, coming at you with the jagged edge along with his two friends. One flung a blade at you the impaled forcefully into your rib cage. Snart blasted him in the shoulder with his cold gun, then hit the ice forcefully, shattering the creep’s bones in his arm. His screams were cut off as he blacked out from the pain. One of the two remaining morons went to fight Snart, while the one holding the bottle stood his ground in front of you.

You pulled the blade from your ribs like a bored child. “A toy? For me? And I thought I’d just get pretty words from this fight.” You looked down in annoyance, “I really liked this jacket, guess your going to get a couple holes to match it now.” You propelled yourself forward, slashing the blade towards his chest. Having realized the pointlessness of the bottle, the moron finally made a smart move and dropped it, using his hands to catch you arm. You swung your head forward, cracking his nose with your helmet.

This had been your mistake, as the motion loosened the hold the helmet had to your head. Your assailant struck out blindly, clipping you in the jaw. The last bit of grip your helmet had was lost. As your one shield from the world skid across the floor you froze. Snart, having taken down the second attacker, stared in shock. In a mad rush of energy you punched out, landing a hit on your attacker’s windpipe. Without access to air he quickly collapsed. For a beat your eyes connected with Snart’s and the horror and dread of this moment seeped through your bones. Your throat felt like it had been crushed.

The natural instinct to hide took over. Turning on your heel you rushed towards the doorway, scooping up your helmet as you went. “(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Leonard grabbed your shoulder, halting you from putting on your helmet.

You didn’t turn around. No need to see the pity in his eyes. “What?” Your voice came out void of feeling.

“I’m going to the back to erase any security videos of our little… Encounter. I need you to grab blondie here,” he kicked the one holding the bottle, “and dump him in the back of the truck for questioning.” You gave a curt nod and shook your shoulder out of his grip.

Hesitating momentarily, Snart made his way to the back. You stared after him, holding back tears. He will never look at you the same again. No matter what you wear over your face, he’ll always know the disfigured features that lie beneath. Setting down your helmet, you quickly heft the unconscious suspect in your arms, dragging him out to the car.

When you came back in you found Snart standing by your helmet, a severe look stretched across his face. You shuffled over and went to lift your helmet, but found it heavier than ever. Turning it over, you found the inside completely frozen over. You spun to face Snart, whose eyes had a smug glint about them. You opened your mouth to yell but no words came to describe the feelings you felt. Did he really get such a kick out of your pain? His hands reached out to you, but you slammed your helmet into his chest, walking out to the car in silence.

He got in the car but didn’t start it. “You don’t have to be ashamed you have battle scars. Anyone in the business gets them from fights-”

“I didn’t get these being a hero,” you barely whispered, leveling your eyes against his own, shaking. “I can’t get scars anymore; I got these before becoming meta,” you heaved a breath that rattled your bones, “I got them from a coward, so yeah, I have every right to be ashamed!” By the end your voice had become a shriek.

Snart stared in silence for a moment. Then, seeming to make a decision, pulled back his jacket and shirt, revealing his collarbone and shoulder. He watched your face for expression as you took in the sight. Cigarette burns pocked his skin, as well as a jagged scar that crossed over his collarbone. “Trust me, I know a coward can scar you, but that doesn’t make you anything less than who you are.”

Tears welled in your eyes. “The things people say when they see my face…”

Snart wrapped his arms around you, pulling you snugly into his chest, “Let them face me and try to say something about you.”

You looked up at his eyes, “Why do you care? You’ve never seen my face and now you go defending it?”

Snart let out a small laugh, “I care about the girl under the helmet. Every part of her. Even the scars.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You felt a smile spread across your face knowing someone could love you. Every part of you.

Hello

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