Alexander Pushkin (the ugly one)

HELLO!

*Ivan was basically yelling.*

- @lobotomizedmeninyourarea

Alexander barely had the time to react when Ivan latched onto him, shouting right into his ear. He screamed, loudly, jerking away from Ivan on instinct.

“JESUS FUCK!”

He almost, almost socked her right in the face before realizing it was Ivan and not some stranger or an enemy trying to murder him or something. He had to take a breath, attempting to calm his racing heart as he looked up at Ivan.

“…” Alexander took a moment to catch his breath before speaking. “…don’t sneak up on me. Again. Please?”

He placed his hands on Ivan’s shoulders, smiling in a somewhat distressed manner.

*Ivan excitedly took Alexander's hands off her and stepped back for a moment, taking a bit to fix their hair up before looking at Pushkin again and gesturing to themself.*

By the way... Do you notice anything different about me—e?

He tilted his head at Ivan, wondering what they were doing now. Ivan was generally confusing and it was hard for him to wrap his head around why they did what they did.

Then she had to ask that dreaded question. As far as he could tell, nothing much had changed of them.

“Uhh…”

Were they trying to torture him psychologically?? Was that it? Was he just stupid? He swore he might actually go crazy because Ivan did not look different. At all.

His head raced trying to think of a response while he attempted to spot any difference. But he came up with an idea. Maybe he could smooth talk his way out of it?

MMMMWAH! You always know just what to say... But it was my lips! I got a new lipstick!

*Ivan said before letting go of Alexander and taking out a lipstick the same exact shade as her lips to show him what they were talking about. It made basically no difference in their appearance at all. They stood with her arms behind her back while batting her eyelashes at Alexander, waiting for a response as if it were some revolutionary thing.*

So—o? How do I look now?

Though he had to give Ivan a deadpan stare. Why would anyone buy lipstick the same shade as their skin tone?

He couldn’t begin to understand half of what went on in Ivan’s head. Usually when Ivan talks to him he feels like he’s missed the memo on something. Then again he feels like that with everyone. And everyone usually finds him hard to talk with. Except Ivan.

“I dunno Ivan. Are ya wearing, uh, masacra? I don’t know anythin’ about makeup so I-I genuinely have no idea.”

Are they doing this to show off? Is Ivan looking for compliments??? Maybe they are? He’s wracking his brain for answers. The only reason he could think of someone wearing makeup that’s practically invisible is to experiment. He’s never asked Ivan about their whole…gender shitck. He wasn’t sure if it was something they ever wanted to talk about.

Well it's more like a request... Drumroll, please!

*She then tapped her fingers on the wall with enough pressure to make a sound and stopped after a few seconds.*

Can I...

*Ivan paused for dramatic effect.*

Give you a makeover?

*She asked. They quickly added,*

You're beautiful as you are but... I'm DYING to know how you'd look all dolled up!

He’s never worn makeup before. Obviously. Even when he was younger, when people still saw him as a girl. He just wasn’t pretty enough for it. Ivan seems to think otherwise, saying he’s beautiful.

Ivan just seemed excited at the idea of it. Happy in fact. He feels a little flattered and warm inside. Desire the complicated feelings he had about it, with a heavy sigh, he nodded his head.

HELLO!

*Ivan was basically yelling.*

- @lobotomizedmeninyourarea

Alexander barely had the time to react when Ivan latched onto him, shouting right into his ear. He screamed, loudly, jerking away from Ivan on instinct.

“JESUS FUCK!”

He almost, almost socked her right in the face before realizing it was Ivan and not some stranger or an enemy trying to murder him or something. He had to take a breath, attempting to calm his racing heart as he looked up at Ivan.

“…” Alexander took a moment to catch his breath before speaking. “…don’t sneak up on me. Again. Please?”

He placed his hands on Ivan’s shoulders, smiling in a somewhat distressed manner.

*Ivan excitedly took Alexander's hands off her and stepped back for a moment, taking a bit to fix their hair up before looking at Pushkin again and gesturing to themself.*

By the way... Do you notice anything different about me—e?

He tilted his head at Ivan, wondering what they were doing now. Ivan was generally confusing and it was hard for him to wrap his head around why they did what they did.

Then she had to ask that dreaded question. As far as he could tell, nothing much had changed of them.

“Uhh…”

Were they trying to torture him psychologically?? Was that it? Was he just stupid? He swore he might actually go crazy because Ivan did not look different. At all.

His head raced trying to think of a response while he attempted to spot any difference. But he came up with an idea. Maybe he could smooth talk his way out of it?

MMMMWAH! You always know just what to say... But it was my lips! I got a new lipstick!

*Ivan said before letting go of Alexander and taking out a lipstick the same exact shade as her lips to show him what they were talking about. It made basically no difference in their appearance at all. They stood with her arms behind her back while batting her eyelashes at Alexander, waiting for a response as if it were some revolutionary thing.*

So—o? How do I look now?

Though he had to give Ivan a deadpan stare. Why would anyone buy lipstick the same shade as their skin tone?

He couldn’t begin to understand half of what went on in Ivan’s head. Usually when Ivan talks to him he feels like he’s missed the memo on something. Then again he feels like that with everyone. And everyone usually finds him hard to talk with. Except Ivan.

“I dunno Ivan. Are ya wearing, uh, masacra? I don’t know anythin’ about makeup so I-I genuinely have no idea.”

Are they doing this to show off? Is Ivan looking for compliments??? Maybe they are? He’s wracking his brain for answers. The only reason he could think of someone wearing makeup that’s practically invisible is to experiment. He’s never asked Ivan about their whole…gender shitck. He wasn’t sure if it was something they ever wanted to talk about.

HELLO!

*Ivan was basically yelling.*

- @lobotomizedmeninyourarea

Alexander barely had the time to react when Ivan latched onto him, shouting right into his ear. He screamed, loudly, jerking away from Ivan on instinct.

“JESUS FUCK!”

He almost, almost socked her right in the face before realizing it was Ivan and not some stranger or an enemy trying to murder him or something. He had to take a breath, attempting to calm his racing heart as he looked up at Ivan.

“…” Alexander took a moment to catch his breath before speaking. “…don’t sneak up on me. Again. Please?”

He placed his hands on Ivan’s shoulders, smiling in a somewhat distressed manner.

*Ivan excitedly took Alexander's hands off her and stepped back for a moment, taking a bit to fix their hair up before looking at Pushkin again and gesturing to themself.*

By the way... Do you notice anything different about me—e?

He tilted his head at Ivan, wondering what they were doing now. Ivan was generally confusing and it was hard for him to wrap his head around why they did what they did.

Then she had to ask that dreaded question. As far as he could tell, nothing much had changed of them.

“Uhh…”

Were they trying to torture him psychologically?? Was that it? Was he just stupid? He swore he might actually go crazy because Ivan did not look different. At all.

His head raced trying to think of a response while he attempted to spot any difference. But he came up with an idea. Maybe he could smooth talk his way out of it?

Alexander puts an arm around Ivan, laughing and giggling, clearly drunk off his ass. His smile is wide, crooked, almost looking like he’s baring his teeth with how sharp his canines are. But there’s no aggression behind his words.

— @rotandachebeneathmyskin

Ohhhhh... Thanksgiving! Yes, yes, let's celebrate!

*Ivan put an arm around Alexander and brought him a chair, getting himself one too. He opened his mouth to speak for a second, but quickly jumped and ran(almost knocking the chair down!!), before grabbing a glass and snatching the vodka out of Alexander's hand, pouring it, and giving it back.*

Let's see...! I'm thankful for... My tongue! To taste such good drink! And for eyes! To see master Fyodor... And ears to hear such beau~tiful music! And for the lovely people in my life! Like...

*Ivan put a hand to his chin and leaned back before leaning closer and putting up multiple fingers as he named people.*

My master Fyodor... Hawthorne... And you! Oh my, I am so thankful for you! My dear Alexander!

*He said as he began to giggle like a schoolgirl!*

He has to stifle a laugh as Ivan almost knocks the chair over. 

Sometimes he forgets how Ivan’s so boundlessly positive and has a helluva brighter look on life than him. 

‘Useless goddamn ray of sunshine’ he thinks. 

“At least ya can enjoy the simple things, that’s good. S’always good.”

Thankfully, his face is already red from the alcohol so Ivan can’t see him blushing when he leans closer. But Ivan saying ‘my dear’, that makes his face feel like it’s burning. Ivan’s laugh is cute he thinks.

“Kehehe, you’re a real schumck ain’t ya? It’s..s’cute though. Not much stuff I’m thankful for…you’re one of ‘em though, that’s for sure. But that’s enough right?”

He tries to smile at Ivan earnestly as he can so she knows he means it.