#I DREW THIS WHILE ON A PLANE!!! SO COOL!!

[z-eddsworld]

I feel like they wouldn't like each other

[iamfabiloz]

Dovewing but green

[totalswag]

pairs love - DREW STARKEY

authors not since drew is in pairs at the fashion shows i thought why not write something cute and adorable. like can we talk about how freaking good he looked walking around ugh. the poll is officially over and the rafe series won! ima start working on the master list and have it up.

summary you come out to visit your boyfriend in pairs during fashion week.

warnings kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower

Drew was invited to two fashion shows in Paris: menswear for Prada and Loewe menswear. He left three days ago, while you stayed at home to put the finishing touches on your flower garden.

You couldn't be more proud of your boyfriend with all the success he's gained over the past couple years. He truly deserves this. Getting the recognition he deserves.

Last night, you landed in Pairs, drained from hours on the plane and eager to shower and sleep on a bed. It felt good seeing Drew and being in his arms. Although it was three days without each other, you always miss his presence.

Drew had the day off, so he planned to take you out to dinner, walk around, shopping, and visit the Eiffel Tower. He advised you to get enough rest early so you have enough rest to explore the Pairs at night.

During dinner, Drew spoke about what the shows were like and meeting celebs he's seen in movies or other people for the first time. It was really cool hearing what he had to say.

You were quite excited to visit the Eiffel Tower. You've always wanted to see it in person someday. Your inner child was jumping up and down inside.

"That restaurant was so delicious; I can see why you enjoy it so much," you tell Drew, tucking your hands into your coat to keep them warm from the cold.

"I'm glad to hear that you liked it baby," He smiles, tilts his head to the side, and blushes.

You chuckle as you playfully nudge his arm. He pretends to fall on his side, with a dramatic expression on his face.

"You are such a dork," you laugh.

"Your favorite dork, dork," he responds in a playful tone, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you continue walking down the sidewalk.

Drew and you went inside a few stores that caught your eye; you might've bought a few things. Drew watched you in awe as you showed him different clothing throughout the store.

"What do you think about this one?" You inquired Drew, holding two clothes that piqued your interest.

Drew hurriedly glances aside from the apparel rack he was browsing. His brows furrow as he casts a stern stare with his pointer finger on his chin.

"I think both will look great on you, but I'd go with this one because it draws your eyes out," he says casually, sweeping his arm toward the shirt you first showed him.

"You are too sweet, you know that" you reply as you turn around, putting back the other clothing item.

He loves seeing you happy. He knew how much you've always wanted to visit Pairs and thought this was the best time to go.

"Thank you for the stuff, baby," you grin, gripping his hand and lifting the bag with your other hand.

When you went out of the last store, you heard people heading in your direction, fans. They walked forward with grins on their faces, carrying items for him to sign and their phones for photos.

When one fan spotted you were with him, she screamed your name out in delight, and the rest followed after. You put your free hand over your heart with a pout before beaming at the little fans.

We love you Drew

This is the best day of my life

I can't believe he's in front of me

He's so beautiful in person

Drew started taking pictures with the fans; giving them hugs, making videos for fans that couldn't make it, signed a few things, and had conversations.

Fans also came up to as well. They were all so sweet and caring. One fan came up to you with tears forming in her eyes, you opened your arms to welcome her.

You are so sweet, Y/N

You are so gorgeous

Can't believe you are here too

I love your relationship with Drew

When word spread that Drew was in a relationship, all of the fans went crazy, searching for who this mystery girl was. You were apprehensive about how the fans might react.

You eventually posted a TikTok video with your best friend, Madelyn Cline, and Drew happened to be in the background; people then connected the dots. In the end, they loved and admired you.

Being in a relationship with someone in the public spotlight offers advantages and disadvantages, but you wouldn't alter it for anything, especially if you love them.

"Don't cry now love," you tell her softly, "what's your name?" She tells you her name and goes on to explain how much she loves you and your content you post.

"That's so sweet of you, thank you."

You spent ten minutes with the girls until it was ready to go look at the Eiffel Tower.

The Eiffel Tower was everything you've dreamed of. Seeing it in person was one of the best feelings in the world. So many emotions were going through your body.

You got out your phone to capture some photos and videos to share later tomorrow. Drew snapped a photo of you with his digital camera, capturing the tower, and he couldn't help but smile.

He carefully put his arms around your waist, drawing you into his front, chin on top of your head, rocking you side to side slowly and silently while savoring the moment.

"This has been one of the greatest days of my entire life. Being here with you in your arms in Pairs. I just want to say thank your for bringing me out here and experiencing this."

You feel your body relax in his touch, allowing a sigh to escape your lips, your head to strike his chest, and giving him the opportunity to kiss you.

You two don't give a damn whether anyone witnesses you kissing at this point. Right now, just the two of you matter because you are in love. And you are in Pairs.

"I had to bring you out here with me, of course, sweetheart. You keep me warm, too, and I love holding you in my arms. However, when you consider it, this is our first trip to Europe as a couple” he says.

You move your body around so that your chests are against one another. In return, you up on your small toes and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him all over his face.

I love you.

I love you more.

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[ckret2]

Chapter 55 of human Bill Cipher finally having a little fun for the first time in over a month of captivity in the Mystery Shack:

Bill does his level best to teach Mabel everything he knows about everything as fast as possible (while Ford eavesdrops). In the process, he finally reveals something about his home dimension!

But not everything about his dimension.

"Did you have rainbows in Flatworld?" Mabel had started drawing her shapesona again at the bottom of a fresh piece of paper. The heart was holding out one hand with several strips of glue shooting in a beam out from the palm; Mabel started shaking glitter onto the glue strips to make them rainbow.

"Not natural ones."

"Awww!"

"We could make them with flashlights and prisms, though."

"That's something." Still, it wasn't as cool as a real rainbow. She started carefully drawing Bill floating above her shapesona. (She probably should have drawn him before she put down glitter. She had to push up her sleeve and lift her wrist to avoid smearing the glue.) "When's the first time you saw a real rainbow?"

Bill didn't answer.

Mabel glanced at him. He had a hard look in his eyes. "Bill?"

####

For the first time in his life, the triangle was up—up but not north—in space, in the third dimension, looking down but not south at the plane where he'd spent his entire existence. It shuddered and rippled and cracked, contracting, as the entire universe crunched together around him.

Great walls of pale blue flame half a googol light years wide erupted into third dimensional space, where stars were caught and crushed between the quickly collapsing cosmic tectonic plates. He hadn't known his flat universe had stars of its own.

His home world shattered and crumbled, shrapnel and rubble spraying out, stone instantly pulverized into dust. Distant oceans rode the waves of the convulsing universe, flinging billions of gallons of water into space in a fine thin spray, glittering in the sunlight.

As the triangle watched, a great flickering rainbow ring formed in front of the ejected ocean, like the hollow eye of a hostile god staring at him in judgment.

He stared back.

And he felt himself fill with more and more and more power.

####

"Bill?"

"Sorry, I was trying to remember!" Bill sat back, laced his hands behind his head, and shrugged, "It's not coming to me. But I'm sure it was after I took charge of Dimension Zero. From time to time planets with weather systems would fall in through a wormhole, I must've seen a rainbow on one of them!"

"Oh." The answer disappointed her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. She puzzled over it as she drew a fireball shape around Bill's hands in glue and shook on pale blue glitter.

Bill nodded at the page, "So what are we up to?"

"Fighting evil! With rainbow lasers and... whatever that magic fire thing you do is!"

"Hey, superheroes! Sounds fun. Who are we killing?"

"Superheroes don't kill people!"

"Fine. Who are we sending to the hospital with third degree burns?"

"I don't know, I haven't made up a villain yet." She almost asked Bill what kind of monsters existed in his world; but the question died in her throat. That might be too depressing a question. She added a heart-shaped glue outline around her shapesona and shook on a glitter rainbow, and set the picture aside to dry. She grabbed a fresh paper and tried to imagine what a two-dimensional butterfly would look like. Would it just have flat little stick wings since that was more aerodynamic? That sounded boring. She started drawing a two-dimensional squid instead.

Bill studied Mabel's latest finished work—the glitter-outlined heart, the glitter rainbow laser, the glitter fire, and the plain him. After a moment, he casually mentioned, "I used to wear body glitter."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"Earlier you asked me about glitter in my dimension," Bill said. "Body paint was makeup to us. I wore it when I went dancing."

"WHAT!"

"And I'd cut open glow sticks to paint my arms and legs!"

"What color glitter did you wear?!"

"Usually gold."

"What?! Bill!" Mabel laughed. "You're already yellow!"

"But I didn't glitter. That's important!"

"You're boring."

"Shut up! I was gorgeous and I knew it! Why mess with perfection?!" He gestured down at himself, perfection, as though he'd momentarily forgotten what body he was in. "Listen, club fashion gets repetitive. If you've seen one equilateral in cutesy primary color gradients, you've see 'em all. There's beauty in simplicity—not a lot of shapes can pull off a solid color with a little light highlighting and still look flashy!" He'd sat up straighter, chest puffed out proudly, as he talked about how pretty he thought he'd been. "Buuut sure, sometimes I highlighted my points for fun. And to keep from stabbing people—it's hard for other people to judge distances with strobe lights on."

"What colors."

"Usually red, blue, or purple. You know—nice contrasts with gold."

Mabel grabbed another paper and started drawing Bill dancing. He leaned closer, elbows on the table, watching with more interest now. Mabel asked, "You had clubs with strobe lights?"

"Of course we did, we aren't barbarians." Bill picked up yellow and black markers out of Mabel's supplies, leaned over to her drawing in progress, and started adding a decorative border around the nearest edge of the paper in dots and dashes.

"What kind of music did you listen to?"

"It was... It's closest to the music in— You've never been to that dimension. Well, it kind of sounds like... I'll never hit those notes with human vocal cords." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Hold on. Let me get Questiony's piano."

####

It turned out that Flatworld club music sounded kind of like a broken tornado siren.

"It doesn't sound very good on a human piano," Bill said, giving the electric piano balanced on his knees a disapproving look. "The intervals between notes are tuned wrong, it's about four octaves short, and it's missing that tympanic membrane shredding tremolo when the treble jumps."

Mabel regarded the piano with some dismay. "Do you know how to play anything else?"

Bill sighed.

He played "Don't Start Un-Believing" for her. He even did that cool thing where you drag a finger up half the keyboard at once.

####

By now, Bill seemed a lot happier to answer Mabel's questions about his world; but she quickly worked out which ones he'd actually give a direct answer. He was the most free with science-y questions, hit or miss on the fun cultural questions, and instantly evasive when asked about his own life or uncomfortable political issues.

When she asked if shapes and their houses just kinda floated unattached to anything because they didn't have a home planet, Bill said they did have a home planet—hundreds of miles below, marking south by its gravitational pull—and they lived in the sky in between their planet and its rings. When she asked what kind of clothing they wore, Bill said they usually didn't wear anything, unless it was for practical purposes (gloves for gardening; goggles for chemistry; elbow-, knee-, and corner-pads for spelunking), and when she asked about his top hat he said slyly, "You mean my telescope?" and gleefully refused to explain further.

But when she asked if it was true that equilateral triangles were the lowest rung you could stand on before getting knocked off the social ladder altogether, Bill said that was a pretty rude question to ask a triangle. And then he said his world didn't have ladders.

When he casually let slip that he'd been able to see the third dimension when nobody else could, she asked how that was possible. He'd paused, looked up from his seventh completely incomprehensible drawing of an animal (she'd asked him whether Flatworlders had pets), and, with an eager gleam in his eye, he asked, "How much time do you have?"

####

Ford heard Bill's voice the moment he opened the door—"All right, star girl, pop quiz, let's see how much of that you kept in your noggin."

"Oh, I'm so ready!"

Baffled, Ford leaned in the living room doorway. The room was absolutely plastered in crayon-covered papers—illustrations, lists, mathematical and scientific diagrams—stars, cells, planets, vehicles. At the moment Bill was pointing at six papers taped together with a diagram on them that Ford thought was a Punnett square that had been expanded into a four-dimensional tessaract. "A polygon's sides are determined by...?"

"Genetic inheritance!" Mabel announced, the proud student who knew all the answers. "You have however many sides your parents have genes for!"

"And the idea that polygons increase by one side each generation...?"

"Is propaganda! Because if everybody hides their kids without enough sides, and they only talk about the kids that did go up a side, it makes everyone think that's what always happens and their family is the only one that's failing!"

"Perfect! And the highest natural amount of sides a shape can have?"

"Twelve! Decadoggins!"

"Close enough, dodecagons! But this isn't Greek class, I'll give you full points. So, any shapes with more sides than that got them through—?"

"Random mutation!"

"Correctamundo! Meaning the only way to get shapes with hundreds of sides is..."

"Crazy bonkers inbreeding! Because the same rich families just keep marrying each other!"

"With consequences including—?"

"Um..." Mabel puffed out her cheeks as she thought. "Skeletons getting all crackly, having a hard time making babies, and high—uh—infant morality!"

"Mortality."

"Lots of dead babies."

"Yes! And remember: when a mutation makes a body produce so much more of something than it needs that it starts harming the body, that's called...?"

"Cancer!"

"Meaning circles are...?"

"Tumors!"

"And what do we do with tumors?"

"EXECUTE THEM!"

"YES!" Bill ripped the Punnett tesseract off the wall. Behind it was a piece of paper that read, in blood red crayon, ANTI-MONARCHIST ANARCISM. "You're ready to man the guillotines! A+, star girl! Give yourself another sticker!"

"Yes!" Mabel peeled a sparkly purple star off a sticker sheet and stuck it on her cheek. Her face had over twenty star stickers.

Ford leaned against the living room doorframe, watching the scene inside with wonder. He was more than a little iffy about the political lesson—he, personally, was incredibly opposed to the idea that it was morally imperative to execute anybody with extra body parts, nobility or not—but the presentation of it was certainly captivating. It had been a long time since Ford had seen Bill like this. (It had been a long time since Ford would have trusted any lesson out of Bill's mouth.)

"Now let's get back to biangles." Bill picked up a fake crystal ball that he'd drawn various lines and shapes on with a marker.

"Awww, again?!"

"Hey. Listen," he said firmly. "I believe in you. You'll get it this time, I know it."

Ford looked around the room, taking in the scene more fully. The floor was scattered with drawings of aliens. A few of them were various polygons—regular and irregular, with the irregularities further broken down by whether they otherwise showed radial or lateral symmetry—each with thin limbs and an eye on a corner. Most were fantastical alien animals, a few that Ford had seen or been warned about on other worlds. Some had been scribbled out and redrawn when Bill's limited artistic capabilities didn't live up to his unknown standards; a few were in Mabel's art style, meaning Bill must have described them to her while she drew.

Twenty pieces of paper had been taped together on the wall behind the TV, with a drawing of a planet surrounded by a circular ring of small blobs—a planetary ring?—and a moon further out. The empty atmosphere between the planet and the ring was filled with squares and rectangles, which were grouped together in red blobby circles that were each labeled by letter: "Country △," "Country B," "Country C," "Country D (communists)," etc. A badly-drawn sea serpent slithered along the outside of the ring with the words "Here There Be Monsters" written over it.

A tall column of taped together papers was covered in examples of alien writing systems—some of them Ford recognized from his travels through other dimensions. From the ones he understood, it looked like the words were demonstrations of Mabel's name in dozens of alien writing systems. Sometimes Bill spelled her name Maybell or Mabelle.

And there were so many papers scattered around the room with little graphs and symbols and arrows Ford couldn't make sense of. And in the center of it all, Bill, alive, energetic, his full attention enthusiastically focused on his student.

Bill had to be up to something; but Ford couldn't imagine what, based on the bizarre assemblage of information in front of him. What nefarious purpose could be behind showing Mabel how to spell her name in alien languages? Unless his goal was to so enchant her with tales of other worlds that he could persuade her to help him open a new portal...? No, even for Bill that felt like a stretch. 

He looked at the wall again. Surely, that wasn't Bill's homeworld. Ford had spent years of his life trying to find the world Bill was from; surely Bill hadn't just drawn it in the middle of Ford's living room. Had he?

"Okay, let's start with spherical geometry from the top," Bill said, polishing the crystal ball on his leggings to rub off the marker lines. "Don't tell anyone I can do this." He held up the ball, tapped it twice on the bottom, and it hovered in place when he let it go, freeing up both his hands to hold a ruler and marker. (How long had he been able to do that? Had he even noticed Ford was standing right outside?) He drew a line across the surface of the ball, "Pretend it's a planet. If you draw a line on a sphere, it's obviously curved, right?"

"Right," Mabel said.

"But now pretend you're on the planet. The surface of the world is a flat plane to you. From your perspective, you can walk in a straight line from point A to point B."

"But it's actually a curve. From space."

"Now you're catching on. That's what makes spherical geometry a little weird: when you're on the sphere you treat everything around you like it's 2D even though when you're off the sphere you can see it's 3D." Why in the world was Bill teaching Mabel about spherical geometry?

Bill drew two more lines to connect to the first. "So! You can draw a triangle on a sphere, no problem, right?"

"Right."

"And something you can only do in spherical geometry... is... pretend this is the North Pole and the South Pole..." Bill carefully rotated the ball under his marker as he drew a straight line from one "pole" to the other, and then drew a second straight line from pole to pole next to it. "Ta-da! If a tri-angle has three angles, a bi-angle has two angles. You've got yourself a two-sided polygon. Right?"

Mabel hesitated. "Right."

"You with me so far, Shooting Star?"

"So far," she said, with a tone that suggested she expected that to change very soon.

"But if you try to transfer that shape from spherical geometry to Euclidean geometry—" Bill turned to an expanse of still partially-uncovered white papers taped to the wall like a makeshift whiteboard, drew two points, and drew two straight lines, red and blue, between the points, "—it just doesn't work. You can't see a biangle in a flat world."

And now Mabel was squinting suspiciously at him.

Bill said, "I lost you."

"But where does it go!"

Bill shrugged. "You lost it when you lost the third dimension."

"But you said when you're on the sphere it's two dimensional!"

"From your perspective it's two dimensional, but there's still a third dimension enabling the sphere to exist."

"Then from my perspective when I'm on the planet shouldn't a biangle look like that?" Mabel pointed at the two straight lines on the piece of paper. "Since everything looks all 2D to me? But it doesn't! It's like flying from the North Pole to the South Pole through America and then flying back through China! China and America don't just squish together into the same place just because you're going in a straight line on a sphere!"

"I'd kill to hear you give a geography lesson to a Flat Earther convention."

Mabel gave him her best angry scowl.

"It was a compliment! I think you'd inspire some hilarious arguments, that's all!" Bill put two dots on the paper and offered Mabel the marker. "Look, try it for yourself! Draw a biangle."

Mabel took the marker and, after a moment of thought, drew two curved lines between the points, making a football shape.

"Those aren't straight lines, kid."

"Argh!" Mabel pulled the paper off the wallpaper, bent it into a curve, and shakily drew a straight line between the two points; but no matter how else she twisted or bent the paper, she couldn't find a path that would let her draw a second straight line between the points without overlapping the first line she'd drawn. She crumpled the paper, tossed it on the floor, and whispered, "It's witchcraft, Bill."

He burst out laughing. "I could name a few horror writers that felt the same way about non-Euclidean geometry."

"But whyyy does the biangle disappear when it goes from a sphere to normal flat paper."

"Because..." Bill groped for an explanation he hadn't already tried. He crossed an arm across his chest and tapped a knuckle just under the bow tied in his hoodie's draw strings the way some humans might tap a hand to their chin, his eyes narrowed in thought. How many times had Ford seen him make that exact same face in his true triangular form, whenever Ford was struggling to understand a lesson on portal physics and Bill was struggling to find a way to translate it into concepts Ford had encountered in his human education? "Let's try this another way."

The scene made Ford ache.

Look past the paper and the crayons, and the graph- and figure- and writing-covered walls looked so much like the advanced physics lessons and blueprints that Bill had coated Ford's starry blue dreamscape in during his sleep. Look past the flesh and bone, and Bill moved and gestured and spoke the way he had when he was teaching Ford how to build a bridge between worlds.

It was the first time since Bill's death that Ford had seen 100% of his personality shining—unhindered by grief, secrets, or a disdainful human audience. It was the first time in decades that Ford had seen Bill at his best.

In that moment, for a split second, Ford forgot how to hate Bill. He couldn't see Bill the traitor, Bill the invader, Bill the homicidal party animal. The only person in that room with Mabel was Bill Cipher the Teacher, Mentor, and Muse that Ford used to know so long ago. Like an ancient god who'd chosen to spend a day roleplaying as a giddy professor—Bill was holding back a tsunami's worth of vast, ancient, unintelligible alien knowledge so that he could drip out revelations at a faucet's pace, slow enough for his student to catch each drop in her hands.

Over thirty years ago, there had been moments when this Bill peeked out behind the above-it-all façade—and that had been the Bill that Ford was happiest to see, the Bill that Ford had thought of as a friend rather than a mere teacher... but each time, it hadn't been long before Bill seemly caught himself and turned off the faucet for the night.

Because he couldn't let Ford learn too much, or he would have seen through Bill's ruse.

Hatred tiredly crept back in.

"I've got it!" Mabel triumphantly flung her hands in the air. "It's like orange slices!"

"Orange slices?" Bill repeated.

"Be right back!" Mabel zoomed to the kitchen, shouting, "Hi Grunkle Ford!" as she passed.

Ford watched her go, then looked back at Bill; Bill had glanced at him for the first time. But all he did was frown and mutter, "I don't remember inviting you to audit this course."

Before Ford could decide whether to retort, Mabel charged back into the living room with an orange and a sharp knife. "Okay! If you draw a triangle on the orange," Mabel said, doing so with a marker, before cutting into it with the knife, "and then you—you cut it out all the way to the center..."

"Be careful with that," Ford said. Mabel was holding the orange in one palm and stabbing into it from the opposite side.

Bill said, "Lay off, Six Fingers. I'm keeping my eye on her, she's not gonna hurt herself."

"I'm being careful!" Mabel was struggling to get an even wedge cut all the way to the center of the orange; she eventually gave up and  dug into the orange with her fingertips to tug out a messy mangled handful of fruit, attached to a roughly equilateral patch of orange peel about two inches to each side. She shook orange juice off her fingers. "Pretend I cut that out better."

"I dunno what you're talking about," Bill said. "It looks flawless."

She pointed at each corner of the peel triangle. "Okay so, these are the three corners of the spherical triangle, right?"

"Right."

"And if you want to make a regular flat triangle, you can... try to cut a straight line between the corners, like..." She squeezed the rest of the orange between her knees, held the edges of the triangular peel with her fingertips, and sawed off the orange pulp underneath, trying to cut a flat level plane as near to the triangle's corners as she could. Ford almost warned Mabel about the knife again, but glanced at Bill's face and his expression of unworried, keen curiosity, and kept quiet. Bill reached out and caught the sawed-off chunk of orange pulp before it hit the ground.

Mabel held out the peel slice. "There! Right? Spherical triangle on top and flat triangle on the bottom!"

Bill considered that, one hand on his hip. He popped the orange chunk in his mouth. "All right. So far so good."

"But if you make a biangle..." Mabel drew two lines between the top and bottom of the remaining orange, and cut a wedge free. "There isn't anything extra to cut off to let you make a flat shape. There's just a straight line between the two points!"

"Ha! Okay, all right, that works! Brilliant! What do you need me for? You just taught yourself the whole lesson!" Bill ruffled her hair so enthusiastically that he knocked her headband askew.

She shoved him away, laughing, and straightened out her headband. "Bill!"

"What did I say! Didn't I tell you you'd get it?" Bill was beaming at her, impressed, delighted, proud. "Congratulations, you've just mastered college-level geometry."

"Wh—What? Are you serious? This is college stuff?" She shook her head. "No way, you're lying."

Bill pointed at Ford without looking at him. "Tell her."

He felt a little like a dog being commanded to bark; but he said, "He's right. I didn't start studying spherical geometry until my second semester in college." He was sure he could have studied it sooner, if his high school had offered it; and he doubted Mabel had absorbed an entire semester's worth of spherical geometry; but he didn't see any reason to point any of that out when Mabel's face lit up in excitement.

Bill said, "There you have it! Way to go, star girl! Two big stickers."

"YES!" Mabel peeled off two jumbo-sized star stickers with smiley faces and stuck them onto her earrings. "So does that make a biangle a girl or a boy?"

And Ford was immediately lost again.

"No," Bill said.

Mabel sighed loudly and tried again. "Does that make a biangle a line or a polygon?"

"Still no, but for a different reason. Externally, they look like lines to anyone who isn't psychic. Internally, their anatomy usually functions like a polygon's. But socially, you've gotta ask. Some of 'em consider themselves lines, some polygons, some claim biangularity is neither linear nor polygonal. Personally, I say they're whatever they say they are. Because," he said grandly, "I'm just that open-minded and accepting."

Ford stifled a derisive snort. But Bill's self-aggrandizing aside, Ford's mind was reeling trying to keep up—spherical geometry, the (gendered?) socialization of shapes, Flatworlder anatomy—what did psychics have to do with anything? Ford's fingers itched for a pen. He wished he had his journal with him.

Bill grabbed several papers off the floor and the floating crystal ball and climbed on top of the wooden TV cabinet. He left the ball hovering behind him seven feet up in the air, tossed aside several papers he'd already used both sides of to let them flutter back to the floor, and taped the rest to the wall with their blank backsides turned out. "Now back to remote viewing." He drew a grid in blue lines on the papers, said, "Toss me that triangle wedge," used a marker to draw an eye on the triangular orange peel, tapped it twice like he had the crystal ball, and stuck it against the grid, where it sat unmoving.

And the entire time, Ford watched with his arms crossed tightly.

Almost a month ago, Bill had given Ford his manipulative trap of a birthday gift, a miniature grimoire, five pieces of paper, margins filled, two rows of text per line, packed with as diverse an array of magical spells and occult knowledge as Bill could fit. It wasn't a gift, it was a boast and a taunt: look at everything I know that you don't; look at what I could teach you if you let me live. 

It was something Bill could have given him all along—effortlessly, with no cost to himself—but didn't, until Bill wanted something from him. 

On his birthday, Ford had wondered, furiously: when this was what Bill could have been—gift-giver, wish-granter, teacher, guide, friend—why did he choose not to be?! It was an internal scream of rage, the howl of a wounded victim at the condemned criminal as he was marched to the gallows: you monster, you monster, you monster, when it would have been so easy for you to be something better, why instead are you a liar, manipulator, torturer, murderer, life-ruiner, world-ender? Answer for yourself: why are you this instead of someone better? How dare you?

It had made Ford want him dead even more.

This was the exact opposite of the grimoire.

The question in Ford's head wasn't a scream of rage anymore. It was grief. It was a plea. It was one last desperate attempt to understand:

Instead of being who he was, why couldn't Bill have been this person? This charismatic, energetic, ecstatic muse who ruled like a king over a classroom he'd constructed himself, eager to share a trillion years of collected wisdom with a fragile mortal mind, lighting up with joy whenever she grasped something that was trivially simple to him? This guide to the vast wonders beyond Earth, competent and encouraging and funny, delighting in the weirdness of the wide wide universe? The Bill that Ford had once liked so much—the Bill that he'd called his friend?

"Okay," Bill said, all sunshine and excitement, "Back to how to view the third dimension from the second dimension—"

Mabel said, "Can you view the fourth dimension from the third?"

Bill hesitated a split second, but said, "Sure! You can view any dimension from any dimension! You've just gotta bend your eye the right way to see higher ones!"

"What does the fourth dimension look like?"

"Well—hm. Imagine the way that the third dimension looks different from the second, and that's the way the fourth dimension looks different from the third."

Mabel stared at Bill.

"Eddie wrote an entire book about a square meeting a sphere because that was the closest he could get to telling other humans what seeing the fourth dimension is like! If I could still visit dreams, I could just show you, but..."

"Isn't the fourth dimension time? Blendo showed us the time stream! Is that what it looks like?"

"Nnn—close! You're close. The fourth dimension isn't time, but time is in the fourth dimension."

"How's that different."

Bill pointed at the floor. "If the carpet's the second dimension and the lamp's shining on it, the third dimension isn't light, but light is in the third dimension."

"Ohhh." Mabel gasped. "That's why you called some weird thing flying around in a higher dimension an eclipse! Because eclipses were in a higher dimension in Flatworld!"

Bill's face lit up in surprised delight. "All right, skip three lessons ahead, why don't you! In a week's time you'll be teaching people how my dimension works." He turned back to his papers and started drawing a branching river. "So! That time stream you saw isn't time itself! It's a visual metaphor being generated so humans can see time too—sort of a hologram projecting from the fourth dimension into the third—have I explained that the universe is a hologram yet—"

Why weren't you this person, Ford wondered. Why did you choose not to be this person? When it was so easy for you to be this? When this made you happy, too?

Why couldn't you have been this person?

Why are you only like this now, when you're about to die?

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed Infodump: The Chapter. This is one of those chapters with something hidden in it that'll unravel the whole fic if you happen to find it, so have fun searching for that. Let me know what you thought of this week's chapter! And get excited—we've got Big Things coming up... soon.)

[cupofadonis]

Wow, it's been a while since I drew something based on Sonic the Hedgehog!...

Well, well, I tried my hand at the Sonic Ova style a little, and I liked it!!

Honestly, the world of Sonic Ova - Planet Freedom is for me the most beautiful, interesting and canon place, and I am very sad that this world did not and never received its continuation...

This whole story with Sonic living on Mobius or Planet Earth is some kind of nonsense to me, because when I see cultural inconsistencies in the Sonic canon (which does not exist?? wtf-) I feel almost physically ill. A lot of characters were lost, deleted despite games and comics.

Eggman as a character stands still, and Sonic's world is not even clearly divided into which states...

Sonic's Ova revealed its potential for me in one film - What happened to the people in the new territory of "Dark Eggman"? Was it the apocalypse? How long ago did this happen? Is this why people moved to the fly islands? Why did people acquire animal features (For example, Sarah's cat ears and tail)? Is this due to the merger with the "Mobians"? Were there anthropomorphic animals before the apocalypse, or are they a consequence of it? Maybe the reason?

What about Sonic and Tails' house? Damn, did you see this COOL DESTROYED PLANE?!? Now remember Tails' house from IDW comics, which is just a damn joke

I can't love the damn Black Doom saga enough because it feels like a cheap Metarex parody. The only good thing Black Doom brought was the character Eclipse from Archie Comics -...Oh yeah, he doesn't exist anymore either. Like Cosmo.

Sally was a typical good character from the 97's who could stand up to the mouse from Chip 'n' Dale, but due to the company's negligence we have no SatAm ending, some kind of porn parody in Archie from Penderson, #Rally4Sally

No Sonic Ova, no completed Sonic Multiverse, there is no properly explained story of Silver, Blaze and Elise from Sonic 2006.

What about the fact that it was Sonic who was the Ultimate Life Form in the plot of SA2? What? Don't remember this? But what about the blue flask that fell to Earth and was considered lost? I congratulate you on the bad narrative of the SA1 and SA2 game series, friends...

Sonic Ova and SA1-2 feels like the only correct versions, it pains me to see how Sonic’s character is now changing for a new audience and the psychopathic egoist and narcissist Sonic turns into a sweet and shy hero, although even taking into account the seemingly terrible and negative qualities, Sonic was a hero...

Changes have always been and will be, this is normal, I don’t want to shout that it was better before and the grass is greener, but for me the canon is only Sonic Ova vision, and I would like to add this vision for myself in my Sonic Ova AU. I think it would be fun. Just for me and my auditory...

So ... What do you think about all of this?

[forecast0ctopus]

Any advice on drawing McCoy? I’m not used to drawing ancient wrinkley bastards (affectionate) and it’s surprisingly tough v-v

FOR SURE lmao i made. a diagram. just a warning that i am going to be irritating and long winded because u just hit a topic i really like sorry lmao

so first off i did some traces just to show whats there vs redraws to show my interpretation

ive said this on other asks but again jsyk, tracing isnt bad!! its a tool. theres some stuff with intellectual property and whatnot but using tracing to study shapes and forms is a really valuable practice.

also just taking some time to learn facial structures and anatomy is super useful, reading what bones and muscles are where and how they interact with one another. taking this info and staring in the mirror and moving your face around and thinking about it. just really furthers understanding of how the face works. trying to sound normal about this but i love anatomy and motion and physics and whatever

anyways im going to go through all the numbered points so there's no confusion. 1. forehead lines - self explanatory. more prominent when brows are raised 2. crows feet - at the outer corners of the eyes, more prominent when smiling or squinting 3. nasolabial folds - the folds that go from the corners of the nose to the corners of the mouth. more prominent when the mouth is wide, like smiling 4. brow furrow - self explanatory, most prominent when brows are furrowed. mccoy tends to have two right next to his eyebrows, kirk has one in the middle. everyones face works different lmao 5. chin crease - caused by how the chin and lower lip interact. 6. nasojugal groove - start from the inner corners of the eye and can extent over the cheeks. everyone has these and idk why people dont like them i think theyre really cool!!!! but Society. i guess. :/ 7. eye bags - caused by the skin sagging beneath the eyes. mccoy isnt even that old in tos i think hes meant to be mid 40s by the end of the 5 year mission, hes just got really prominent eye bags lmao 8. idk what the name is for these, but when the mouth is wide and pushes the skin to the sides, these folds sometimes form outside of the nasolabial folds 9. philtrum - the groove above the upper lip. i dont usually draw this but mccoy's struck me as prominent enough that i usually draw it on him 10. masseter - the muscle that moves the jaw up and down. its a pretty rugged muscle and while i wouldnt say mccoy's is especially prominent, it kind of extends that nasojugal groove from certain angles/positions 11. orbicularis oris - mouth muscle, usually easier to see when lips are pursed or frowns are pulled. mccoy's is pretty prominent from 3/4ths or side, his mouth tends to protrude in profile 12. this isnt a muscle but more of a line defining the planes of the face, but since i drew it i felt i should explain lmao

a few points:

im an animator i tend to exaggerate and emphasize certain things so i usually make him more square.

i like to combine eyebags and crows feet for brevity/flow, same with nasojugal grooves, eyebags, and masseter lines. my approach is always subject to change based on pose, expression, reference image, etc.

i take out details that i deem redundant or cluttering and keep what details i need to make things feel Right

all this info is applicable to any character of any age, its just in how you apply it and facial proportions that willl change how old a character is perceived to be

there's a lot more with drawing a Character rather than an Actor, just because the features are there doesnt necessarily mean things will feel correct? its very much in the mannerisms and poses and expressions

i only went over my approach to his likeness but not really body type or posing or anything idk if u want that i could always try to answer that later haha

_______________

anyways all that info kind of exists nebulously in my brain while i draw its not like im sitting there thinking Must Draw. Nasolabial Fold...... i jsut do what feels right with the visual info i have. also i love specificity in faces.... i dont like to be a hater but when every character is drawn the same it pisses me off a little lmao. so

also dont take my word as The Only Way to do anything i just draw how i like to draw and no one should feel like these are things that Must be done to be a good artist or anything do whatever the hell u wanna do

[weirdmageddon]

💿⚛️ davejade headcanons

sorry for leaving you guys waiting on this for like a week lol i kept being like “tomorrow for sure” but falling asleep but anyway here it is. i might add more to this if i think if anything but reblogs might not reflect the up to date source version so you can always find it here

most of these are pointing out stuff thats basically canon anyway but whatever lol. basically canon headcanons

dave tries to impress jade to get her attention because he likes her

this ones for you *misses hoop by 5 feet*

he doesnt mind jade’s inane riddles honestly. he isn’t perturbed by how she just knows things like rose is, because he doesnt think into it too far. he trusts her

he spends a lot of time indulging in her interests and showers her in his music and poetry

they draw things for each other a lot <3 jade has the pictionary modus and seems pretty good at drawing and of course dave sent her sbahj as furries in the mail. sending jpegs over the internet is BABY NONSENSE. real boys send their childhood friend/crush pictures they drew for them through the INTERNATIONAL POSTAL SYSTEM to an unspecified island in the middle of nowhere, pacific ocean that gets packages dropped by plane so the recipient can tangibly hold it and hang it in their room

actually i was going through the commentary and hussie addresses it as such:

“Also notice her SBaHJ furry poster, which was clearly a very thoughtful gift from Dave”

aww

jade would give dave a "cool" plushie of a tiger or something nd he keeps it on his desk . froot’s beautiful idea

he loves her plushie sensibilities. so much less unnerving than his bro’s phallic puppets. they're still soft but no cognitive dissonance this time about the softness coming from foam puppet ass hoorayyy

theyre still reading homestuck on act 4 but they understood them instantly

jade humors dave’s ironic cool facade because it makes dave feel more comfortable without feeling too exposed, but it’s because of this that he feels like he can open up to her because she isnt prying. (im still not over the smile here btw. only jade could make dave smile after a fucked evening where he spilled juice on his turntables and accidentally skewered an innocent crow with his sword and broke his window this mf is TYPING. also getting a bit of joy out of the fact that the only visible suit on his cards-themed bedcover in this panel is a heart)

but he knows that jade is not unaware of what he's hiding. couldnt even refute her lol

from the knight’s perspective, it’s “i’m not as [blank] as i appear. i want you know that about me if i know you well and trust you, or i DON’T want you to know that about me if i DON’T know you well. the reason is that i want to know that i can trust you to avoid turning my insecurity into a Whole Thing”

basically she allows dave to take initiative when HE feels comfortable and confident in sharing the things he’s self-conscious about. this really helps him be comfortable and form a strong bond with her

dave would wrap his arms around her to “ironically” imitate a pair of tangle buddy squiddles (while actually concealing genuine affection basically unbeknownst to himself) but he winds up looking just a little too into it for just an “ironic” bit yall……

jade is slower to realize her deeper feelings since she shows love to everyone (so long as theyre deserving of it!!!) it just hits her one day that she actually Likes him in a special way, while for dave it is more dynamic and gradual but very on the downlow, expressed in creative acts and services

once dave actually recognizes he’s really caught feelings for her down the line, dave and jade happily do the tangle buddies hug all the time. its like their handshake. its their weird couple thing

these two when together as a unit they do not give a shit about what other people think of them

this shit lol:

Creative Fucking Powerhouse the two of them

davejade ass song to me

jade is quite spacey and super appreciates dave’s level-headedness and steady pragmatism while at the same time not being a rigid stick in the mud about it. for example when they were acting as each others’ server players dave was advising her but it was appreciated by jade

sorry its just literally socionics duality LITERALLY THIS IS THEMMM (also i spent WAY too much time making these graphics and integrating texts from multiple sources please appreciate it)

fittingly with that, as ouroborista writes about the opposite space-time aspect dichotomy,

Space and Time are the fundamental Aspect pair. Their job is to make shit take place. To create novelty. Between them they span not only all of existence but also the inseparable twin approaches of any creative project. Space goes for breadth, for ideas, for expansive, holistic input, while Time goes for needlepoint focus and a rapid-turnover ability to pull through on the prompt. There’s a reason why these are the two Aspects necessary for any successful session of SBURB.

jade is literally always having a little giggle about him. dave is a funny guy. lame court jester ass boyfriend

he’d draw his post-ironic fursona and show it to her with the usual deadpan expression on his face, eyes obscured by his shades. but jade will look at it and when he sees her smile and laugh it makes it all worth it. his cheeks feel warm and he’ll smile slightly like “heh heh”. dave the type to smile like an idiot over anything jade does like his mouth keeps making a thin line and hes trying to fight it but . Jade

dave thought jade looked absolutely stunning in her 3 in the morning dress his mouth probably stupidly hung open the tiniest amount seeing her after swapping into it

of course she only wears it for what she considers "very special occasions"…..spending time with dave seemed to be a very special occasion :)

jade think dave looks sharp in his suits!!

imagine jade adjusting daves crooked bowtie and lapel and his palms start to sweat and he darts his eyes from behind his shades and chews the inside of his cheek she making him nervous bro 💯

jade is definitely the teaser and dave is the teased. still i dont think jade teases dave as much as john and rose which is why he feels more comfortable opening up to her about his shit. her teasings are much lighter and inconsequential

despite how funny and informal he is dave is a classy well-put-together romantic. he is responsible and harmonious in how he choses to present himself. remember when he got secondhand embarrassment from rose when she was drunk before her date with kanaya and he suggested to her and kanaya that the two reschedule? … he’d NEVER do something like that. sober. suit is ON. hair is neatly combed. he is right on time, not too early not too late, and his first words are “yo whats up”

dave has this designated driver energy about him

after dogtiering jade’s dog ears can perk and flatten, adding even more expressiveness

jade has so many hobbies and interests i think she’d get dave into horticulture somehow unironically

theyre both the kinda mf to ask “would you still love me if i were a worm”

dave’s hands are warm

jade’s skin can be cool to the touch in some places like the back of her arms or shoulders and dave places his hands there to warm them. or by rubbing them or something

idk just some associations space is cool and time is warm to me. the vaccuum of space is cold and time is associated with gears which are associated with generating heat and dave’s classical element is fire and jade’s is earth and her planet is initially covered in snow and daves is covered in lava idk…. just makes symbolic sense i guess but its also cute in its own right

dave would love going to the beach with jade on earth c cause the ocean is so boob i mean boob i mean boob i m,ean boob i mean SHIT . blue. blue

this Fucking animation bro

she infodumps about science and he sits his ass down to listen

jade does this (excuse the fact that the url is roselalonde)

[malacandrax]

Hi I just wanted to say I love your art sm and you actually helped me get back into drawing a ton, for a while I had this weird idea in my brain that I HAD to draw semi realism/realism otherwise every man I drew would be horribly twinkified and I'd never be able to draw the characters I liked, but I just drew my first ever man I'm happy with in a style that isn't semi realism and a lot of it was inspired by the way you don't always close your lines w lineart and don't use a ton of pen pressure sensitivity and your art comes out incredible. Those were things I always did but would try to stop doing because people told me they were stuff you "weren't supposed to do" and it just ended with me being frustrated whenever I drew and hating my art. But seeing you do it and make absolutely gorgeous stuff really gave me that confidence to just say fuck it and do it anyways and I'm starting to actually get in the flow of drawing again, so thank you :)

This is so so cool! I struggled for About Ten Years with not being able to line in a way I liked, and I’m so glad that my way of doing it is inspirational to someone else! I hope you figure it out faster than I did haha.

Style wise, it kinda just happens, I don’t think many people fit super neatly into boxes anyway, so don’t stress over it, I definitely don’t know what my style is defined as haha! I thought it was semi realism til I googled it HAHA. I copied artists like makani and coey, reapersun and loish when I was a teenager and it definitely swayed my style!

Also I relate extremely to not really vibing with how other artists do lines. For me personally I THINK its because I think in shapes and not lines, and I started out painting and working in tone. Like real life doesn’t have lines, and when you paint it’s generally just varying between soft and hard edges, using the colour and tone to do the lifting for you. It’s way harder to figure out where to put a line, or what things need a line and what doesn't, if you’re not used to thinking that way.

I definitely ink more like I paint, kind of thinking about planes and shadow or overlap more than the outline? Like I draw the top curve of the cheek, then the jowl, then the chin, it kind of feels like cutting a 3D shape out in the space…? But I think that’s why mine are often choppy haha. In traditional art I always preferred a square brush, which carries over to my preference for minimal width variation on tablet.

Saying that, I *do* sometimes work more with width, though it's still messy and choppy haha. my trick with those is that I always choose a brush that has a fairly consistent minimum width, I can draw with a fairly fixed line, but also press down a little to get the variation when I want it. (As opposed to brushes that kind of go really thin and really thick with little effort, like a brush pen, I just don't have the control...) Below are my main blobby inkers, I can pretty comfortably draw a fixed width face, but I can make it wider if I want.

Anyway I went off on a tangent, I hope you can make art in ways that feel natural to you! And I hope making art brings you joy!

Some artists I love the lines of are linnea sterte, steven sugar, momopachi, jadenvargen, artharakka, beidak-art, pien-art, wombrion! 

[peachhcs]

I feel like will and Sammy were one of those friends that like took naps while cuddling, or maybe at any free time they would be together, sometimes they said flirty comments to each other and still be like “we are best friends, we would never like each other”

no, no we’re just friends | the wonder years

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

1.5k words

takes place fall of will’s first dev program year (samy is a junior) this was genuinely so fun to write. i added some more plot to it, i hope that’s okay, but keep sending in requests for the wonder years i love writing their younger dynamic!

au masterlist

a weekend of no hockey games? not even traveling? those types of weekends were rare for the boys. 

they'd been on the move since the start of the season in august meaning two straight months of nonstop hockey every day, every week, every weekend. things were hectic–chaotic even—but they loved it. playing hockey everyday? it was the dream and so was finally getting to sleep in on saturday morning without worrying about waking up at ungodly hours for morning practice. 

the boys scattered themselves across the hughes family living room after a long night in ann arbor. what other way would they spend their free weekend besides driving an hour to samy's house where ellen welcomed them with open arms—secretly excited that her house was filled with people again. 

things were quiet now that the brothers were gone even though luke came back every weekend to do his laundry. 

samy excitedly showed them around the city she grew up in for most of her life with will chirping in every now and then with tidbits from the places he's visited. surprisingly, the boys were really into the museum of art by the university, especially ryan and drew. 

"no way someone painted that," ryan mumbled as their gazes stared up at the large 4 foot painting hanging off the wall. 

"i could do it better," aram shrugged earning a slap on the arm from jacob. 

"no you could not," the brunette muttered, shaking his head. 

the two began quietly bickering about who could paint better. will rolled his eyes before flicking over to briefly meet samy's gaze who lingered beside the blonde. she softly giggled at his friends' antics which resulted in a soft smile on the boy's lips. 

"i'd really like to see you guys try and paint," samy cut into their bickering as she led the way to the next painting. 

"you think we can't paint?" jacob raised his eyebrow at the girl. she only shrugged. 

"let's be real, you can't paint to save your life," ryan added with his own laughter. 

"uh, i can to. i took art classes my freshman year," jacob defensively crossed his arms. 

"ooh, so cool," ryan's mimicry voice made the group laugh. 

the banter didn't stop the entire time they were in the art museum. at least not until they made it to the natural history museum where the boys were really excited to look at dinosaurs. samy couldn't help but giggle as she watched the six boys hurry to see the t-rex up close. 

"how do you think they got it here?" gabe wondered. 

"a plane?" drew raised his eyebrow. the dark-haired boy smacked him on the arm, rolling his eyes. "smartass," gabe mumbled. 

"what's your favorite dinosaur?" will wondered over the commotion of the other guys. 

the girl's eyes slid to his, sparking some in the light while she thought about her answer. "good question. i really like rhinos. they don't have any in this museum though," she finally decided with a tiny smile. 

"didn't quinn buy you a rhino stuffed animal however many years ago?" the blonde asked. 

"he did! it was like my 7th birthday or something. i can't believe you remembered that," the youngest hughes chuckled. 

"only because i remember we sent you the nerf guns after being upset all summer that your brothers had them and you didn't," will informed making samy laugh again. 

"those were the best gift. i think we still have them in our basement somewhere, but i definitely lost all the..what do you call them? pellets?" the two shared another small laugh before the group headed to a different exhibit. 

after the museums, luke graciously met up with all of them and took them to dinner close to campus (but secretly ellen sent him money to pay for all eight of them because poor luke was a broke college student). the boys were definitely excited to see luke and they got him into a long conversation about hockey and what college was like. 

samy and will were at one at one end of the table where they immersed themselves in their own conversation again letting the others talk luke up because the two already saw him all the time. 

"happy there's no saturday practice tomorrow?" the brunette wondered, sipping on her lemonade. 

"mhm. i don't think i've really slept in since like..i moved here," will chuckled. 

"do you ever sleep in though? i'm pretty sure i always hear you awake at like eight in the morning with luke and jack at the lake house," samy raised her eyebrow which brought a flush to will's face. 

"you gotta get up early to hit the green," the boy argued referring to all the times they went golfing. 

"oh, right, right. how could i forget?" samy made a face. 

a small silence settled between them as their eyes drifted down the table where their friends excitedly talked with luke. something warmed in both of their chests seeing how well they everyone got along. samy really couldn't be more happier that will introduced her to these boys and seeing how much her brother loved them all too. will thought the exact same thing. 

the two years ahead were gonna be the best years. will knew it and so did samy. 

it was late when the group made it back to the hughes house. ellen and jim already had the air mattresses blown up meaning everyone immediately collapsed on sight after changing into pajamas. samy made herself comfortable beside will who briefly scrolled through his phone. the girl had a small cup of ice cream in her hand, quickly offering some to the blonde. 

"mm love rocky road," will hummed as he took the bite. 

"i know we have the same taste," the brunette giggled. she fished around for the remote before turning the tv on the lowest setting and flipping to some random movie playing. 

the girl stretched out, letting her eyes grow sleepy. her head dipped onto will's shoulder making the boy flush briefly before he hooked his arm around her own shoulders. this wasn't abnormal for the two, especially after the past summer. they'd become a lot more touchy with one another, always poking and prodding—so a head on the shoulder as samy fell asleep wasn't something the two thought twice about. 

not until the morning where they were in the same position except samy's head fell more onto will's chest with one of her arms spread out across his torso. the guys woke up before they did and ryan was the first one to notice the sleeping pair curled up on the couch together. 

"dude, look," the brunette nudged drew's shoulder who slowly sat himself up while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

"are we sure smitty doesn't like her?" drew mumbled with a tiny snicker. 

"he's gotta or something. i mean look at them!" ryan exclaimed. 

all of the guys were still in denial about will saying he didn't have feelings for samy and never has. they were literally staring at the two asleep together. gabe, aram, and jacob woke up a few minutes later hearing ryan and drew's voices. 

"why are you guys talking so damn loud?" aram grumbled. 

"look at smitty and hughesy," ryan urged his friends. the other three shifted their gazes towards the sleeping pair and they immediately understood what the fuss was about. 

"damn. if i didn't know any better.." jacob trailed off earning laughs across the group. 

"should we wake them up?" gabe asked as ryan took some pictures on his phone for later use whenever will wanted to try and deny his feelings. 

"i think your voices were loud enough.." samy's eyes fluttered open. the boys immediately quieted down, but the smirks didn't disappear on their faces. 

samy slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. will shifted against the couch, his own eyes opening up too. 

"good morning love birds," ryan sang. 

"oh this again," samy playfully rolled her eyes. 

"what do you mean this again? you guys were literally cuddling," aram pointed out and all of the guys nodded in agreement. 

"and?" the girl raised her eyebrow, gazing over at will briefly who was now fully awake. 

"and? y'all are acting like a couple!" ryan exclaimed again. 

samy and will instantly bursted into laughter which left the boys silent and confused. 

"no, no we're just friends," the brunette got out through her laughter. 

"friends don't cuddle," drew cut in. 

"yes they do. i cuddle with my friends all the time. you guys are just afraid to," samy argued, pushing herself off the couch. she looked down at will for confirmation. he saw the guys' looks, knowing exactly what they were thinking. 

"come on, we're just friends. it's nothing," the boy agreed with samy. 

"exactly, thank you. can we stop making a big deal out of it and get breakfast?" the boys looked between the two for a few more seconds before deciding to drop the subject for now, but still not believing a word either of them said. 

[realsgwife]

Gloryhole

"How many more hours until we land?" Sally asked, her voice a soft blend of boredom and hope. 

"Just three more," the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom, the words echoing through the cabin. 

Her eyes flicked to the younger steward passing by, his name tag glinting in the artificial light. Kenneth. She had noticed him during the pre-flight briefing, his energy a stark contrast to the weariness that seemed to cling to the rest of the crew. 

"Would you like me to bring you anything?" Kenneth offered, pausing in his steps. 

Sally considered the offer, her eyes lingering on the tray of beverages he balanced with ease. "No, I'm fine. Thank you." 

His smile was polite, yet there was something in his eyes that made her look away, a spark of curiosity that seemed to dance around the edges of propriety. She couldn't quite place it, but it was there. 

The flight to Amsterdam dragged on, the hum of the aircraft's engines lulling the passengers into a state of forced tranquility. Sally went through the motions of her job, serving drinks and reassuring nervous flyers, all the while aware of Kenneth's glances. He was new, she had heard, a junior steward eager to make a good impression. 

After the final meal service, she found herself in the galley, her hands trembling slightly as she washed the last of the dishes. Kenneth appeared beside her, his youthful face a stark contrast to her own reflection in the stainless steel. 

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low. 

Sally took a deep breath, pushing down the flutter in her stomach. "Just tired," she lied. 

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a beat too long before he spoke again. "I know a great place for dinner when we land. Care to join me?" 

Her heart skipped. It had been a long time since anyone had asked her out, especially someone so much younger. But something about the way he said it, the confidence in his tone, made her feel seen in a way she hadn't in years. 

"I'd love to," she said, her voice a little too bright. 

The remaining hours of the flight seemed to stretch on forever, but finally, the wheels of the aircraft touched down on Dutch soil. The passengers applauded, jolting Sally out of her daydream. As they filed off the plane, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation for what the night might hold. 

Once they had cleared customs and collected their luggage, Kenneth led her through the bustling streets of Amsterdam. The city was alive with a vibrant energy that made Sally feel both invigorated and slightly overwhelmed. She had been to the city before, but never like this. 

"I know just the spot," he said, guiding her down a narrow alleyway. "It's a local favorite." 

The restaurant was tucked away, a cozy little place with candles flickering on the tables and the scent of garlic and wine in the air. Kenneth ordered for them in Dutch, his accent surprisingly good for someone who had only learned the language for his job. 

The conversation flowed easily between them, a mix of work stories and shared laughter. He was charming, attentive, and she found herself relaxing in his company. The wine helped, too. 

As the meal drew to a close, Kenneth leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "There's something else I want to show you. Something...different." 

Her eyes widened slightly, but she felt a thrill of excitement. "Okay," she said, her voice a breathy agreement. 

They stepped out into the cool night air, the cobblestones slippery under her heels. Kenneth took her hand, leading her through a maze of streets that grew darker and quieter until they stopped in front of a nondescript shop with a green neon sign. 

"This is it," he said, pushing open the door. 

The smell of cannabis hit her like a wave, thick and pungent. Sally had never been in a place like this before, but she didn't protest. Instead, she allowed herself to be led into the warm, dimly lit space, where the walls were lined with jars of colorful buds and the air was hazy with the sweet scent of marijuana. Kenneth moved with ease, pointing out different strains and explaining their effects with the enthusiasm of a sommelier discussing fine wine. 

"So, what do you think?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. 

"It's...interesting," Sally said, her cheeks flushing. She had always been curious about the infamous Amsterdam coffee shops, but had never had the nerve to visit one alone. 

"You should try it," Kenneth encouraged, his voice a gentle coax. "It'll help you relax." 

They sat in a corner booth, the glow from the neon lights casting an otherworldly hue on their faces. Sally took a tentative puff from the joint he had rolled for her, feeling the smoke fill her lungs before releasing it in a slow exhale. The conversation grew easier as the tension between them loosened, the topics veering from the mundane to the intimate. Kenneth spoke of his past relationships with a candidness that surprised her, and she found herself opening up about her own divorce. 

As the effects of the weed began to settle in, the edges of the world grew softer, the sounds of the city outside muffled. Sally felt a warm buzz spread through her body, a sense of freedom she hadn't experienced in years. Kenneth's hand brushed against hers on the table, and she didn't pull away. 

"Ready for the next adventure?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr. 

Her heart racing, Sally nodded. Kenneth stood, offering her his hand once more, and they left the coffee shop, the night air feeling electric on her skin. They wove through the streets, their destination an adult shop with a neon sign that blinked in the shadows. 

The interior was a riot of colors and textures, a playground for grown-ups with a penchant for the taboo. Kenneth's grip tightened around her hand as they ventured deeper into the store, the air thick with the scent of leather and desire. Sally's eyes widened as she took in the array of toys and devices displayed before her. 

"Let's check this out," Kenneth said, pointing to a curtained-off area in the back. 

Her heart racing, Sally followed him into the dimly lit space. It was a mini-theater, lined with small booths, each with a peephole at eye level. Kenneth's gaze was mischievous as he whispered, "These are the video booths." 

Her cheeks flushed as she realized what they were. "I've never..." she trailed off, not sure if she was ready for this. 

"Come on," he urged, his voice low and thrilling. "It's just a bit of fun. You can watch whatever you like." 

With a deep breath, Sally stepped into one of the booths. Kenneth inserted some coins and the screen flickered to life with a scene that was both shocking and intriguing. She felt a rush of excitement mixed with embarrassment, but also a thrill of curiosity. 

As the minutes ticked by, she found herself drawn into the scenes playing out before her. Kenneth's hand rested lightly on her shoulder, his presence comforting in this alien world. The films grew more explicit, and she felt her body responding in ways she had long forgotten. 

"You should try the gloryhole," Kenneth suggested, his voice thick with suggestion. 

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she couldn't deny the sudden interest that piqued within her. "What's that?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. 

He chuckled, his hand moving to her chin to turn her face towards him. "It's a hole in the wall," he said, his eyes searching hers. "You can...interact with the person on the other side." 

Sally's heart was racing now, the weed making her senses heightened and her inhibitions lowered. She watched as Kenneth stepped into the booth beside hers, the wall between them thin enough to feel his presence like a heartbeat. The screen in her booth flickered with a new scene, a woman eagerly tasting a man's cock through a similar hole. 

Her eyes darted to the side, where she saw the shadow of a figure moving in the neighboring booth. The man was tall, with dark skin that stood out against the red light that bathed the small space. He had noticed them, his gaze lingering on Sally before he reached down to unbuckle his pants. 

"What are you doing?" she gasped, her eyes wide as Kenneth stepped aside, revealing the gloryhole between their booths. 

"You said you were curious," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "Go on, touch it." 

Sally's hand hovered over the gloryhole, her heart racing. The stranger's cock was indeed large and uncut, the skin velvety and unkempt. She could see the shine of pre-cum glistening at the tip. The smell was overpowering, a mix of bodily fluids and something she couldn't quite place. It was definitely not the clean, minty scent she was used to. 

Kenneth's eyes held hers, the dare clear in his gaze. "Go on," he urged, his voice low and hungry. "You know you want to." 

Sally's curiosity won out over her shyness. She leaned closer, her hand shaking as she reached through the gloryhole. The cock in front of her was indeed uncut, the foreskin pulled back to reveal a glistening tip. She took a tentative sniff, the scent of unwashed skin and musk heavy in the air. It was a stark contrast to the pristine hotel rooms and expensive cologne she was used to, but there was something raw and thrilling about it that made her pulse quicken. 

"Go on," Kenneth murmured, his hand sliding around her waist to rest on the small of her back. "You know you want to taste it." 

Sally's heart was racing, but she couldn't deny the thrill coursing through her veins. She leaned closer, her eyes fixed on the stranger's cock, her hand hovering just out of reach. The man watched her, his eyes glinting with lust in the dim light. Kenneth's hand gave her a gentle nudge, and she leaned in, her nose brushing against the velvety skin. The smell was strong, a mix of unwashed flesh and the faint tang of urine. It was unlike anything she had ever encountered before, but she found herself inexplicably drawn to it. 

"Taste it," Kenneth whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her neck. "I dare you." 

Sally's eyes flicked to the stranger's cock, the challenge in Kenneth's voice egging her on. She leaned closer, her hand wrapping around the shaft as she took the first tentative lick. The taste was overpowering, a mix of salt and something faintly bitter, the smell of unwashed skin and the musky scent of smegma. It was a world away from the clean, soapedy flavor she was accustomed to. But there was something undeniably thrilling about the raw, unfiltered nature of it all. 

The man on the other side of the wall grunted, his hips jerking slightly. She could feel his excitement through the thin barrier, his cock twitching in her hand. Kenneth's hand slipped around her waist, his fingers ghosting over her hip to rest on her zipper. 

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a sultry whisper. "Show him how much you want it." 

Her resolve crumbling, Sally took the stranger's cock into her mouth, her eyes closing as she savored the sensation. It was thick and heavy, the uncut skin sliding over the head as she sucked and licked. The taste grew stronger, the smell of male arousal filling her nostrils. Kenneth's hand grew bolder, slipping into her pants to find her wetness. 

Her mind raced with the reality of what she was doing, the taboo nature of the act making her pulse pound in her ears. But she couldn't deny the thrill of it, the way her body responded to the anonymous cock in her mouth and Kenneth's touch on her clit. 

The stranger's breath grew ragged, his hands gripping the edges of the booth. Sally's cheeks hollowed as she took him deeper, her eyes watering from the effort. Kenneth's fingers worked in time with her bobbing head, his thumb pressing firmly against her clit. 

"You're doing so good," he murmured, his voice a mix of amazement and lust. "You're going to make him cum." 

The thought sent a bolt of excitement through her, and she redoubled her efforts, her mouth sliding up and down the shaft with newfound vigor. The man's hips began to buck, his breathing growing erratic. Kenneth's hand was a blur between her legs, his touch sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body. 

Suddenly, the stranger pulled his cock back, his hand appearing through the gloryhole. "Let me touch you," he rasped, his accent thick and unfamiliar. 

Sally's eyes flew open, meeting Kenneth's intense gaze. He gave her a nod of encouragement, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Go ahead," he whispered, his hand leaving her pussy to give her a gentle push towards the hole. 

Her knees wobbled as she stepped onto the stool, her body now perfectly aligned with the opening. The stranger's hand was rough and warm as it slipped into her pants, his calloused fingers finding her clit with surprising precision. She gasped, her hips bucking slightly against his touch. 

"So wet," he murmured, his voice thick with approval. "You like it, don't you?" 

Sally couldn't find the words to respond, her mind a whirl of sensations. Kenneth stepped closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Tell him how much you like it," he urged, his own hand moving to cup her breast, squeezing gently. 

"Y-yes," she managed to choke out, her voice barely audible. The stranger's fingers worked in tandem with Kenneth's, sending her closer and closer to the edge. Her hand reached back, gripping the wall for support as she rode the wave of pleasure. 

"Tell him you want him," Kenneth whispered, his voice a dark seduction. 

Sally's eyes squeezed shut, the words leaving her mouth in a shaky moan. "I want you." 

The stranger's hand withdrew, leaving her panting and exposed. Kenneth's grip on her waist tightened. "Good girl," he murmured, his hand sliding around to unbutton her blouse. "Now, let him see you." 

Her shirt fell open, revealing her lacy bra and the fullness of her breasts. The stranger's eyes went wide with lust, his cock jutting back through the hole, demanding attention. Kenneth stepped aside, his own arousal evident in his tight pants. 

"Show him," he whispered, his voice a siren's call. 

With trembling hands, Sally reached back, unclipping her bra and letting it fall to the floor. The cool air of the booth brushed against her nipples, making them peak with excitement. The stranger's hand reached out again, his thumb tracing a line from her navel to her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. 

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice a gruff growl. "Now, sit on the chair and face me." 

Sally did as she was told, her legs trembling as she sat down, her back to the wall. Kenneth moved behind her, his hands sliding around to cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples into hard peaks. 

The stranger's eyes were glued to her pussy, his hand stroking his cock in a mesmerizing rhythm. "So beautiful," he said, his voice a low growl. 

Sally felt a strange mix of embarrassment and power as she watched him watch her, his desire laid bare. Kenneth's hands moved to her hips, urging her closer to the gloryhole. 

"I want to feel you," the stranger said, his voice hoarse with need. 

Sally leaned forward, her breath hitching as she felt the tip of his cock brush against her folds. Kenneth's hands moved to her hips, guiding her as she slid down onto the stranger's shaft. It was thick and unyielding, filling her in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. 

The stranger's eyes never left hers as she began to move, her hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm. Kenneth's hands remained on her breasts, his thumbs flicking at her nipples, his breath hot against her neck. 

"That's it," Kenneth murmured, his voice a gentle coax. "Take it all." 

The stranger's grip on her hips grew firmer, his strokes growing faster. Sally could feel the tension building within her, the pressure mounting with every thrust. Kenneth leaned in, capturing her mouth in a deep, searching kiss, his tongue mimicking the movements of the cock inside her. 

"I'm going to cum," the stranger groaned, his voice strained. "I want to cum in your mouth." 

Sally's eyes widened, but she nodded, her body on fire with lust. Kenneth stepped aside, allowing her to lean forward. The stranger's cock slipped out of her pussy with a wet sound, and she took it in her hand, eager to please. 

"Yeah," he hissed, his eyes never leaving hers. "Take it all." 

With a deep breath, Sally opened her mouth, the taste of the stranger's cock still lingering on her tongue. He thrust into her mouth, his movements growing erratic as he approached climax. Kenneth watched, his own arousal evident in the bulge in his pants. 

The stranger's cock swelled, and with a final grunt, he exploded, hot cum filling her mouth. She swallowed, the salty taste mixing with the lingering scent of his arousal. He pulled out, his cock spurting the last drops onto her face, his hand moving to rub the remaining semen into her hair. 

Sally's eyes watered, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she licked her lips, the taste of him still there, the act of degradation strangely exhilarating. Kenneth's hand reached out, his thumb tracing the line of cum on her cheek before sliding into her mouth, allowing her to share in the act. 

The stranger's hand withdrew, the tension in the booth palpable. Sally's chest heaved with every breath, her body still thrumming with unspent desire. Kenneth's eyes searched hers, his own need clear. 

"Your turn," he murmured, spinning her around with surprising strength. Her legs trembled as she faced the wall of screens, the images flickering with the depraved acts of strangers. Kenneth stepped behind her, his hands sliding down her body to grip her hips. 

"I want you to watch," he said, his voice thick with lust. "I want you to see how much I want you." 

He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock pressing against her swollen pussy. Sally could feel the heat of him, the throbbing length that promised to fill her completely. With a groan, he thrust into her, his cock sliding in with ease. 

"Oh God," she moaned, her eyes locked on the screen. The woman on the screen was being fucked from behind, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy. Sally felt a strange kinship with the performer, her own body mirroring the depraved scene. 

Kenneth's thrusts grew harder, his grip on her hips unyielding. The angle was perfect, his cock hitting her g-spot with every stroke. She reached up, her hand gripping the edge of the booth for support as he pounded into her, her breasts bouncing with every impact. 

"Look at them," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Look at how much they're enjoying it." 

Her eyes darted from screen to screen, each one more depraved than the last. Men and women in every conceivable position, all caught in the throes of passion. It was a visual symphony of lust, and she was the star performer in her own private show. 

The stranger in the next booth watched them, his hand moving in time with Kenneth's thrusts. Sally felt a thrill of exhibitionism, the idea of being watched adding a new layer of excitement. Kenneth's hand reached around her, his thumb finding her clit as he fucked her standing up. 

"Cum for me," he growled, his hips slamming into her. "Cum for them." 

The pressure inside her grew, a delicious ache that she knew would soon become unbearable. The stranger's eyes never left hers, his gaze hungry as he stroked his own cock, watching her every move. 

And then it was too much. Sally's orgasm hit her like a wave, her body shuddering with the force of it. Kenneth's name was a scream on her lips, the sound muffled by the walls of the booth. The stranger's hand shot through the gloryhole, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer to his cock. 

Her mouth opened, her eyes locked on the woman on the screen as she took the stranger in again, her movements sloppy and desperate. Kenneth's hand tightened on her clit, his other hand pulling her hips back to meet every thrust. 

The stranger groaned, his cum spurting through the hole and onto her face. Sally swallowed, the taste of the anonymous man mixing with her own arousal. Kenneth's strokes grew erratic, his breathing ragged. 

With a final grunt, he emptied himself inside her, his cock pulsing with every spurt of seed. Sally leaned against the wall, her legs shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. Kenneth kissed her neck, his breath hot against her skin. 

"You were amazing," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper. 

They stepped out of the booth, their clothes disheveled and their bodies still humming with desire. Sally felt a strange sense of liberation, as if she had shed a layer of herself that she had been carrying for too long. Kenneth handed her a tissue, his smile wicked. 

"Ready for the next round?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. 

Sally looked up at him, her heart racing. "What's next?" she breathed, her voice a seductive challenge. 

He leaned in, his mouth close to her ear. "The night's still young," he whispered. "And I have so much more to show you." 

With a wink, he led her out of the adult shop and into the night, the neon lights of Amsterdam beckoning them with the promise of more secrets and sins to be shared. 

"You left something behind," Kenneth said with a smirk, holding up her lacy panties. They were drenched, a testament to the carnality that had unfolded in the tiny booth. 

Sally's cheeks flushed as she took them from him, her eyes dropping to the ground. "I know," she murmured, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "A little souvenir for him, I suppose." 

Kenneth's eyes sparkled with amusement. "You're something else, Sally," he said, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and desire. "I had no idea you had such a wild side." 

"Neither did I," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. She tucked the panties into her bag, feeling a thrill at the idea of the stranger finding them later, the memory of her juices and the night's events forever intertwined with the fabric. 

They stumbled along the cobblestone streets, their laughter echoing through the night. The cool air was a stark contrast to the heat still pulsing between her legs, her bare skin exposed and sensitive. Each step sent a jolt of pleasure through her, a reminder of the evening's escapades. 

To be continued

[illubean]

May I request a Valorant viper x fem reader who has a talkative and bright personality, basically the opposite of viper plz who always bugs her 🙏

From Spite to Sunshine

Characters: Sabine "Viper" Callas Type: Fluff, Oneshot, Fem!reader in mind but never actually specified

sunshine x grumpy troupe has a special place in my heart <3 also in all of my val vics we'll pretend the fraternization ban doesn't exist xoxo

A/n = agent name

Warnings: none

When you first joined the Valorant Protocol, most of the agents were excited to have you. Your bright personality brought fun and happiness that the base sometimes lacked. You seemed to always be in high spirits.

No one in the protocol understood how an actual saint such as yourself ended up with someone as spiteful as Viper. She was cold hearted and seemed like there was no room for anything besides the hate inside that fueled her.

Your fellow agents constantly warned you of her unpleasant personality, but you payed them no mind. You believed everyone had a good side, maybe your peers had never taken the time to try and understand her. Every day you made an effort to speak with the scientist.

"You look nice today Viper!"

"Wow nice shot."

"You're so talented Viper, how did you get so smart?"

You constantly showered her in compliments and told her just about anything, even if she weren't to give a response.

Sabine, however, was conflicted. At first, she despised you. How could you be so happy all the time? Do you ever shut up? When you joined the protocol she was dead set on avoiding you, but for some reason you would pester her. But after a while of this, she started to accept it as part of her daily routine. She begins to question it if you're nowhere to be found, actually missing the way you would talk her ear off as she worked. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, she missed you telling her about your day.

She missed your plethora of compliments.

She missed your company.

She missed you.

Now Sabine is no fool, she can recognize the meaning behind this. She was in love with you.

To say the scientist was in love was an odd statement. And even so, no one would expect it to be on someone who's personality is practically on a different astral plane. But maybe that was the very thing that drew her to you.

You were like a ray of sunshine, warming up the dark hole that Sabine kept herself in.

Warm. That's how she felt around you.

So the next time you came to bug her, she wasted no time in telling you what she's been feeling lately.

"Hiya Viper, what are you working on toda-"

"Sabine," she cut you off. You tilted your head at her and let out a confused "Huh?"

"Call me Sabine," she said, looking up from her desk to make eye contact with you.

"Okay Sabine! So what are you up to?"

"A/n...it seems like I have taken a liking to you."

Hearing this, a bright smile spread across your face. All your efforts at befriending the cold hearted scientist has payed off.

"Aww I'm glad to hear that! In that case, call me Y/n."

She sighs before walking around the desk in front of her, moving to stand face to face with you instead.

"And by that, I mean," she starts, taking one of your hands in hers. "..Why don't we go out this weekend?"

You felt heat rise from your neck all the way to the tip of your ears while you stumbled over your words.

"Like a date!? Where did this come from? I mean yes! I would love to! Wait but what do I-"

You were cut off by the feeling of cool lips on yours as you stood there shocked.

"You talk to much. Let's go out on saturday at 5."

At a loss for words all you are able to do is nod.

"Good. See you then." And with that, Sabine left you alone in the lab with your own thoughts.

You liked Sabine, you really did. But you didn't expect to be this successful this quick. You smile to yourself before making your way out of the lab.

"I've got a date with big, scary Viper!"

[yakultii]

hiiii i know you said send anons but!!!! here’s how my day was!!!!!!!

okay so i’m learning about ww1 in history rn and we looked at these posters that were like. meant to convince aussies to enlist but they really just looked stupid and i drew stars all up my arm while writing poetry! and i had some really good pasta :)

okay have you ever had to calculate the slope of two coordinates on a cartesian plane? because i spent about two and a half hours doing that today and i don’t think anybody will ever use that in a real life situation and i hated every second of it

uh and i had drama today but i ditched most of it

aaaaand uh i had a steak sandwich for dinner which was good!!!

don’t redownload tiktok i believe in you!!! ily <33

dude this makes me so happy u have no idea !!!!!!!! hi hi !!!! thank you !!!!!

omg no but imagine if they had to come up w posters to try get us to enlist now (like the fact that joining aus defence force literally already has so many benefits and still most of us won’t do it lmao)

but omg I just know if I was still in school I’d think u were so cool (you are!)

and omg nope!!!!! ok so I did naturally well in everything in school EXCEPT MATHS from like yr 8/9 onwards (and chemistry ew vom-literally) (I swear I have dyscalculia and I had undiagnosed adhd back then) so idk if y’all can but in vic u can drop it in yr 11&12 if u persuade enough staff members to sign a piece of paper which I did but even thinking back to year 8 and 9 maths I promise u I haven’t used a single thing.. I do believe slaying primary school level maths will make ur life a lil easier(time effective?) but none of that other stuff like unless u have plans to go on studyingit at uni, or unless u enjoy it ofc but other than that I feel so ripped off that I spent hellish hours in maths class ewwwww. those days will be over real soon don’t worry!!!!!!!! but to answer ur question no I don’t think you’ll ever use it unless relevant to career lollll

omg damn where do y’all go to ditch? my high school literally locked us in w high gates ugh. not that that stopped me ditching :,)

but slay pasta and steak !!!!!!! I had a parmi w chips n salad hehe

I hope you have a good night <333

[eruden-writes]

Scent Match - Part 8 (Augustine + Amber)

Summary: When Amber Dyer decided to attend a Creator Con, she never expected to run into Of Wolf and Blood lycan heartthrob, Augustine Prime.

But, there he was, stooping over her table, asking to buy the unflattering drawing of his character. Valuing integrity over taking money from a celebrity and running (though she was sorely tempted,) Amber finishes the sketch and delivers it to Augustine.

However, he continues to doggedly pursue her and entwine their lives.

All because of her scent.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

First Part - Master List - Previous Part

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

If you like my content, please consider supporting me on: 

*:･ﾟ✧ Patreon or  Ko-Fi *:･ﾟ✧

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Quietly, the two headed to Augustine’s bedroom. Amber noted he hadn’t even bothered to turn off any lights, but that could have been excitement making him careless. If he even wanted her, she thought. Glancing sidelong at the man, he seemed rather calm. As if this occurrence wasn’t actually some long desired outcome.

In reality, elated prickles danced along his back and through his skin. It was only thanks to years of acting that Augustine didn’t grab Amber and drag her back into the bedroom. He actively fought his imagination as other images of tossing her directly onto his bed, climbing over her, letting his mouth taste her threatened to break his cool exterior.

As they made it into his room, Augustine barely kept from looking back at Amber to see how her watchful eyes took in the area as he turned on the light. The elegant navy blue and heather grey decor wasn’t really his own taste. It was meant to be pleasing and lush, while equally being easy to clean between guests.

The colorations were the last thing on Amber’s mind, however. No amount of preparation could have steeled her against a hotel bedroom. It was so surreal. Another full wall of windows that led to another balcony. Curtains open, overlooking the city skyline and the streets below as the night sky spilled overhead. As she walked further in, her shoes sunk into the soft carpet. Thicker than even what she had at home.

Her eyes gleaned over the bed, noting its size, but anxiety had her turning her attention elsewhere. A full-sized dresser with a large mirror sat near a plump cushy chair. With doors cracked open, Amber also noticed a walk-in closet and an en suite bathroom. There was evidence of Augustine’s stay, as well. Previously worn clothes, a pile of business cards on the bedside table, a book beneath the lamp, an empty soda bottle. Not exactly a mess, but certainly not pristine.

“Should I add a little zhuzh to the show?” Augustine winked as Amber turned a curious look to him. She realized she hadn't even noticed his clothing earlier. Augustine had already slid off his suit jacket, draping it atop the dresser, leaving his button-up and trousers on. for the moment. His hands were poised at the neck of his shirt, fingering the buttons teasingly.

Briefly, Amber Wondered exactly how he thought to zhuzh up his strip show. Probably with theatrics and gyration.

“Only if you want me laughing the entire time.” At Augustine’s curious sound, Amber elaborated with a helpless shrug, “I’ve had partners in the past try to sexily strip for me. It just makes me giggle. I don't know.”

“Well, thank you for telling me and saving my ego.” Augustine chuckled and gave a nod as he pulled his shirt up and over his head. Like the jacket, he laid it atop the dresser and kicked off his shoes and socks. All the while, he felt Amber’s eyes watching him, waiting for the last articles of clothing to drop. He could antagonize her a little, he knew. If he waited to divest himself of his trousers, he could force her to ask or initiate the last bit of stripping.

“Don’t make me regret being nice," she mumbled, shooting him a warning look while trying not to stare as he disrobed. But it was hard not to. The contours  and planes of his body drew the eye, making Amber think of all those masterfully chiseled statues in art museums. Her hand raised, but stopped short of touching him. “So, I should just touch you?”

“Yep, however and wherever you want. I’m pretty sturdy.” He thumped himself on his bare chest in demonstration. “Just, with you touching me, some things might, ah, rise to attention. Y’know?”

Amber raised a hand again, but it paused as she tilted her gaze back to his face. "Are you seriously okay with this?”

“Most definitely. I want you to want to marry me, so anything that’ll ease your worries is something I want to do.” Augustine gave a nod, exemplifying his own agreement to the circumstances. When his nodding paused, his expression turned curious. “Although, I’m kinda surprised you jumped to this instead of dates.”

Amber remained silent. She didn’t actually believe he’d want to go on any dates, if she was being honest. Amber was still fairly certain once the weekend was over, that was it. Sure, Augustine had given her his contact information and she’d even spoken to his manager, but once they were apart, that was it. It would be so easy for him to pretend it never happened.

“You can still back out of this at any time, Mr. Prime,” she answered softly as she reached out and brushed her palm gingerly down his chest.

His body heat bled from him, through Amber’s hand, and up her arm. From the edge of her vision, she watched Augustine tense and saw how his gaze intensely followed her hand as it skimmed down his torso. Absentminded, her fingers followed the edge of his chest hair, down over his abdomen. “And I know so many people would jump at the chance to marry you. Hell, so many would jump at getting you into bed.”

Before Augustine could ask her where she was going, Amber finished softly, “So I just… I don’t know why I have so much trouble with the thought.”

“What?” He still couldn’t follow her words or reasoning. Especially with her fingers touching him so lightly. Part of him wanted to grasp her by the wrist and press her palm flush to his chest, just to feel more of her.

“Other people can just jump into bed with strangers without thinking about it. It’s so easy for them. I guess I’m kinda using this as an opportunity to figure out what's-" Wrong with me. "-different about me."

Something in her scent turned sour, Sad. He didn't like that. He really didn’t like that if he was related to the cause.

Before he could even consider if it'd be a good move, Augustine carefully caught Amber by her wrist. When she turned a questioning look to him, his other hand gently cupped the side of her face. "I like the way you are, Amber. Don't push yourself if you don't want to."

The moment was getting too tender. This was supposed to be dirty and quick. Amber had been fully prepared to be rejected or even coolly let go after they did whatever she had the nerve to do. She wasn't prepared for this. The warm expression in his eyes, his palm softly on her cheek, her own heart traitorously thrumming.

“You’re surprisingly hairy." Amber dragged her attention from him, cheeks burning. She needed a distraction from the moment. “I thought Follywood types waxed everything.”

Augustine let his hand slip from her cheek as she turned her face subtly away. He shook off his disappointment with a shrug and a half-laugh, “Hard to wax when you’re prone to growing patches of hair or fur when excited.”

Amber hummed noncommittally, not ready to address his admission at being excited. “How was the charity date?”

“It was fine. A married couple won me.” He watched Amber as she fiddled with his trouser button and zipper. With her face turned away from his line of sight, she obviously cuy trying to gain some emotional distance. Or maybe she was embarrassed with how red her cheeks had grown.

Taking her time with fasteners, if only to disguise her trembling fingers, Amber continued, “What were they like?”

“Nice enough. One of them, Asher, owns a bookstore in Portland and their spouse, Trin, does IT for some big company. We chatted about the series, both books and the show, and they tried to get information about the new season from me.” Augustine let the words amble over his lips as he watched Amber. She succeeded in loosening his trousers, letting them fall.

Her refusal to look at him shifted away from shame and toward attentive curiosity. The outline of his dick beneath the fabric of his boxer briefs teased at her thoughts. With as tightly his excitement strained at the material, she didn’t need much imagination to figure out his girth and length. However, she still couldn’t bring herself to touch him there. No, her hands dawdled at his thighs, teasing the wisps of hair - slowly becoming thicker - that dotted his legs.

Frustrated with the lack of touch and the lack of Amber looking at him, Augustine narrowed his eyes, deciding to prod at her. “They were both pretty flirty too.”

Without thinking, Amber firmly palmed at his erection as she rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to get jealous.”

He couldn't stop the roguish grin that split his lips, hips rising to meet her palm. “Obviously. You’re the one here with your hand on my dick and not them.”

Both the heat and hardness in her hand brought a flush to Amber’s face. She couldn’t very well pull away, though. Especially not with his damned smug grin on his face.

Forcing her actions to be fluid and smooth, she kneaded at him through the fabric. “Why didn’t you end the night with them? Sounds like they’d have been down for it.”

Though firmer, her touch still wasn’t enough for him. The craving for more scraped along his insides. He barely stopped himself from grinding against her touch, silently begging for more. “They weren’t you, Amber.”

“You say that so easily, but I guess you’ve probably had tons of relationships and, like, bacchanal-level orgies, huh?” Amber found herself rolling her eyes, yet again, as her tone inched toward sarcastic. It was easier to grasp onto her image of him than admit his words had any effect on her.

Likewise, it was easier just to let her hands move than to think about what she was doing. Unthinking instincts guided her actions. Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of his boxer briefs, yanking them down. His cock bounced out eagerly, bobbing under her gaze. Veins strained under the skin, complexion dark and ruddy compared to the rest of him.

On a conscious-level, Amber absolutely ignored her curious thought of his taste or how her mouth watered in preparation. Even as she knelt before him, hands braced on his hips, her cognitive dissonance kept her mouth running. “Missing out on a potential threesome isn't such a bummer for you.”

“Mhmn…” Sharp excitement sliced through Augustine as Amber lowered to her knees, her breath ghosting over his member with the closer proximity. Involuntarily, his cock flexed, an ache burning for more attention.

“Oh my gods, you have.” Finally, she turned her gaze to his face again. She’d see how full his beard had grown, how thick the hair on his chest and arms had become in such a short amount of time.

Something in his stomach flipped, seeing surprise and a hint of curiosity swimming in her eyes. Excitement lurched further as she - seemingly absentmindedly - dragged her parted lips against the side of his shaft, her hand stroking the neglected side.

“There’s been some.” He shrugged, throat tightening as he silently choked down a groan. Despite his restraint, his body was too tempted by the heat of her mouth and leaned toward her. He wanted to do more. So. Much. More. “They’re not my favorite thing. They’re pretty smelly with all those sweaty bodies.”

She could imagine Augustine, an obnoxious enrobed Dionysus-Adonis hybrid with a crowd of people flocking to him as he lazily drank a decanter of wine with a smug grin. Heat flared down Amber imagining the sight. Suddenly, she also realized what exactly her mouth was doing as his dick throbbed against her lips.

Masking her shame, Amber pulled away from Augustine, sitting back on her heels. Craning her neck to look up at him, once more very aware of their size difference, she clamped down on her fluttering heart.

A flicker of disappointment passed his features at her sudden distance, but it quickly upended at her words. “Alright, I’m done with this form. It’s pretty basic. Shift.”

Giving an unimpressed wave of her hand, she waited for Augustine to comply or refuse.

The bright smile gave away his answer as he straightened from a slight slouch. “Yes, ma’am.”

Augustine didn’t even take a step back before focusing on the change. Amber watched as his hair thickened - creeping along his entire body in a ripple - into a pelt of fur the same color as Augustine’s regular hair color. The previously pointed ears grew larger, extending the curvature of his jaw until they angled near the crest of his head. His nose and jaw elongated, becoming something between a wolf’s snout and a human’s face. Similar growth happened to his feet and hands, she realized, as a toe claw nudged against her knee. She swallowed, dutifully trying to ignore the images that tickled her thoughts at the size of Augustine’s hands. He was certainly more canine than she’d seen of him in-person, so far.

She let herself glean over his entire body, though she did keep his dick in her peripheral. Already hard, his member appeared to grow larger, likely in proportion to his own everything getting bigger, and turned from ruddy to bright red. Even the head narrowed at the tip, flaring a little before the shaft to take a more arrowhead-esque appearance.

Again, stray thoughts bombarded Amber's head. How did he taste? How hot and solid would his cock feel on her tongue? Or better yet, inside her? Amber's insides clenched at the idea and she abruptly remembered she wore a dress thanks to imaginative 'easy access' scenarios blooming in her mind.

In this form, Amber’s scent became fuller-bodied in his nose, weighing down on his tongue. His very tastebuds buzzed. It made Augustine want to drag his tongue along every inch of Amber, taste her fully and completely.

"You're very large." She critically eyed Augustine, trying to determine just how much bigger he had grown. Though his fur made him appear larger than he was, she thought.

"Thank you."

It took Amber a beat to realize why Augustine sounded so delighted and smug. He thought she was talking about his cock! A blush seared over her face as she glared up at him. "That's not what I meant!"

Amber's glower only made Augustine's grin grow. "It's ok. I know I pack an … intimidating package."

She didn't know what prompted her retaliation. Maybe her curiosity just won out. Maybe she wanted to knock that smirk off Augustine's lips. Either way, Amber found her hand wrapping and the base of his cock, beneath the bulbous knot. With little preamble, she took him in her mouth. Under her tongue, Augustine tensed, surprised by the sudden tactic.

Closing her eyes, Amber focused on taking more and more of his dick with every bob of her head. She listened as his breathing hitched, heard how his clawed toes dug into the carpet, felt how his muscles twitched and tightened. She even thought she could feel a breeze from a wagging tail, but that may have been ham imagination.

Each reaction ignited a long forgotten feeling. Something she rarely felt herself. Smugness.

It wasn't until her lips met his pubus, thick fur tickling her nose, that Amber stilled and peered up at Augustine. Against her tongue, his member weighed heavy and hot. She held back a smile as his cock twitched excitedly when their eyes met.

"Fuck, Amber," Augustine gasped, gold eyes wide and wolf ears pricked forward. She had him entirely buried in her mouth, her throat. A challenging glint in her eyes as she stared up at him. Amber's expression and the very sight of her looking so confident made his heart pound. He had to focus to not let his tongue loll out of his maw in an obscene pant. "That's… You're impressive."

"Or maybe you're not as intimidating as you think," she returned after she eased off him, wearing a pointed expression. Amber forced herself to not stare at his now slickened, shiny red member still bobbling for her attention.

"Point made," he chuckled, now realizing how tight his hands balled into fists. It had been that or grabbing Amber by the head, threading clawed fingers through her hair as his hips worked against that talented mouth. Even just thinking it made his arousal jolt. He needed to find something else to grip onto lest he forget himself. "Can we move over to the bed?"

She shot a dubious look to the king-sized bed. He was about to assure her that it didn’t mean he had expectations, he just needed something to grab onto that wasn’t her head or hair or… well, her. Amber cut him off before he could even soothe her worries. "Alright, but there's no guarantee we'll fuck, got it? I'm getting comfortable with you. That's it."

Hypocrisy tilted through her mind, knowing full well her words clashed against the fact she had his dick in her mouth moments earlier. Whatever. Her boundaries could ebb and flow.

When Amber got to her feet, Augustine backed away to the bed, flopping back on his elbows once the back of his legs hit the mattress. As the bed creaked under his sudden weight, he offered up a grin to Amber. "I'm just happy with whatever you want to do."

Approaching him, Amber rolled her eyes at his words. A small part of her echoed how strange it was that she felt so comfortable around him, a veritable stranger. A different part of her - more curious to see how this all would end - focused more on exploring him again.

Ignoring Augustine’s splayed legs, Amber leaned over him with one hand going to the ruff of fur around his neck. As her hand sunk into the dense fur, she gave him an experimental scratch.

Unprepared for the new turn of events, a strangled sound left Augustine as Amber’s other hand drew to his ear. His eyes fluttered shut, leaning his ear into her touch. Heat churned inside him as his head nuzzled into her touch, an indecent whine leaving his throat.

The reaction tickled Amber’s senses. In that moment, her suspicions eased, seeing him openly tilting toward her attentions with a genuine need. It was still ridiculous, all the same. But it was genuine ridiculousness, she realized.

It was her amused snort that made Augustine’s eyes crack back open. His clawed fingers dug into the blanket beneath him as realization struck. In his efforts to get more touch on his ear, he had unwittingly bared his throat to her. A mark of extreme vulnerability among lycans. Though Augustine doubted that’s what held her attention.

No, Amber had her head tilted to the side and a considering smile on her lips. The warmth in her eyes nearly struck the air from Augustine’s lungs, having not been subjected to such a tender look from her before. He held his breath, too afraid to break whatever spell she had woven.

Something in Augustine’s expression shocked Amber out of her momentary affection. Painfully aware of the gentleness in the air, she tore her gaze from his face. She needed a distraction. As her attention fell, it caught onto his red arousal. That would be distraction enough.

Amber’s hands trailed down Augustine’s front, carding through the shorter fur that spread down his torso as she lowered herself to the floor between his legs. He was still under her touch, his eyes watching her hands travel further southward.

Then her caresses bypassed the one place he was most eager to feel her touch. Augustine only barely swallowed down a frustrated whine as her fingers worked through the thicker fur of his legs, down to his ankles before beginning to traverse back upward. The return trek, however, was remarkably slow. Slower than before.

“Amber, please, you’re torturing me,” Augustine groaned, head lolling backward. Heat throbbed between his legs, impatient and edging toward painful. All the while, her fingers continued to toy up his legs, fingers digging through the fur to scratch lightly against his skin.

“Am I?” Her tone was too amused to be completely innocent or unaware of what she was doing. Leaning closer to her dick, she puffed warm breaths over his shaft, but didn’t touch him yet.

Augustine gave an affirmative grunt, eyes glued to her.

Her lips quirked into a wry smile, tilting her eyes to Augustine, though she couldn’t see his face at the moment. “I did say this was about me getting comfortable, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” She’d probably shirk away with his next words, but he couldn’t help it. He watched her carefully, a lazy grin on his lips, as he said,  “I like you feeling comfortable enough to torment me.”

Amber only gave a momentary pause. Barely a hiccup in her actions as she gathered up her nonchalance. Nosing along his furry thigh, she sighed, “Ah, so you’re a masochist.”

“Only if you want to be a sadis–” A sharp exhale interrupted Augustine’s retort. He groaned, curving forward as Amber’s mouth once more enveloped his cock.

Well, that was one way to silence him, Amber supposed as she slowly inched down his shaft. He tasted heady and salty on her tongue, the throb of his pulse taunted her. Her tongue writhed curved around the underside of his member, flexing against him. With every movement of her lips, every flex of her tongue, Augustine twitched or groaned. Such small movements evoking such grand displays of pleasure.

After one pass downward and back up, she lifted her mouth from him. Though she lingered close enough so her lips would tease his tip as she spoke. “I don’t want a partner that does everything I want. I’ve been in that position and it’s not fun.”

The look in Amber’s eyes was earnest and sincere and serious. Augustine found curiosity rousing in his thoughts, along with a dose of faint anger. Had she meant the unspoken meaning? That someone had forced her to be someone she wasn’t? Or was it just a life experience?

Augustine shelved the thought for the moment. Tonight was about her comfort, her exploration. Not him getting personal answers. If he had his way, there’d be time for that later. He reached for her hair, threading his clawed fingers through her hair gently. Imperceptibly, she leaned into the touch, only the slight pressure of her against his fingers any indication of her movement.

“I’m fine with being a masochist to your sadist, but–” A wolfishness stole across Augustine’s maw as his fingers tightened in her hair and he leaned over her. He gave a tug, experimental and light, enough to get his point across and was rewarded with a surprised, sinful little squeak from Amber. “Turnabout is fair play, Amber. Wouldn’t you agree?”

For a beat, she stared up at Augustine. His mouth full of sharp teeth and eyes that nearly glowed in the dark and razor claws, of which one set was currently lightly grazing her scalp. His slouch over her just made the size difference between them all the more prominent. Shameful excitement thrummed through Amber, burning hotter as his grin broadened toothily.

It was that grin that kicked Amber’s thoughts back into action.

“I suppose that’s true,” she replied airily, her lips still hovering close to his dick. Moving slowly, her hand drew to his knot, fingers coiling around the bulbous bit of anatomy. Augustine’s gaze slid from Amber’s face to her hand, air caught in his lungs. A thrill pulsed through him, throbbing against her touch. He completely forgot about his hold on her hair, fingers falling lax, as she shook him off.

“But I’m pretty sure I still have the upper hand,” Amber added, the corner of her lips tilting in a grin of her own. A bit of wryness crept into her voice as she asked, “Can I keep going now? Or are you going to interrupt me again?”

This was not the Amber he had met in Artist Alley. Her half-lidded gaze and that smile that made it clear she knew she was in control made that clear. Though he thoroughly enjoyed the shy Amber, he was curious to see where this one led. Augustine had a feeling this wasn’t a part of her she showed to just anyone. Or, hell, maybe it was something long-buried.

Either way, excitement crept up his spine, his tail wagging against the bed, as he nodded. “By all means, please continue.”

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[chzdavmpr]

Delicious in Dungeon Reading Diary Vol 5

Spoilers below, obviously

Oh so we are getting right into Falin weirdness off rip.

I called it that this person was the mad mage.

Hmm. So they recognize Laios, but know it's from within a painting that they recognize him. I'm surprised but I think that actually fully explains how the painting work. I guess it's time for a big rant on my guess as to how living painting work. If you don't care skip this paragraph. Ok so the mad mage made the paintings to trap people and it seems like whenever someone enters them a scene starts playing like a tape, except that people trapped inside can interact with things. These recordings are of things that actually happened, and the people within them act roughly how they actually did. However the mad mage is the exception to this. It seems that they can either perceive through the scenes of their painting counterpart or just know everything that happens in the painting. It also seems that they can choose to override their painting counterpart's recorded actions and take control of them, allowing them to know that laios was in all the paintings. This I'm a bit iffy on because if I recall they seem to think Laios is some kind of kingdom infiltrator in the painting which wouldn't quite line up but it's the best I got. Additionally you can draw/paint extra stuff onto the painting and it will be sentient but won't be in the painting proper, just kinda in a plane on top of the painting, or maybe that's just because Laios drew bad. Either way that is a lot, but hopefully this is the last time I should spend way too long talking about living paintings.

Very funny how the label follows them. I also love Senshi's face of "what the hell man those are my hams"

Oh so since Falin was made with the dragon's flesh and blood she is the dragon. Wait does this mean Falin is dead forever? I sure hope not.

I'm skipping over most of the next 3 chapters, I'll get to them in my final thoughts.

Wow this samurai guy is having just an awful time.

So senshi probably got the cheese from the orcs. But I should mention I've also been watching the anime with some friends as it comes out. And one of them has a huge pet peeve about every time they have oil in the dish, since he says they should've run out forever ago. I'm not bothered by it at all, and find it very funny how he reacts every time oil is on screen. The reason I bring this up now is if this cheese is seen more then just this once he is gonna blow his gourd and it will be very funny.

Senshi giving Chilchuck "the talk" is so funny that I literally got light head from laughing.

It's very cool that Laios is learning magic. I feel a lot of stories wouldn't do that just because he's "the fighter" and Marcille is "the wizard" and they would have to stay as those archetypes.

The art in this whole series is great. I love the way the cockatrice is drawn here.

It may have been fine if it didn't come right after another whole chapter where Chilchuck recaps the story so far like there's been a hiatus and they wanna make sure you remember everything.

Man this chapter is on a roll with these A+ panels

I somehow only just now, while taking the above picture, that the chapter called cleaners has the characters dressed up as cleaners. That's cute and I may be a little stupid.

Ok so I was gonna say this this guy may be Delgal hiding, since we saw that the mad mage is looking for him.

But then I remembered; isn't the whole backstory for the golden city that it's king told of the mad mage and then died? Cause that would make it kinda hard to find him.

But then now when I'm composing this I'm remembering that the dungeon doesn't allow people to die, so either he died right outside or that story was wrong. Hmmm.

Seriously every panel with Shuro has him look like the worlds most depressed man.

He's practically sinking into the earth.

You know in retrospect, if the Dungeon Gormet Guide was a bunch of lies and guesses it's awfully lucky that it's happened to be right about what is and is not poisonous. (Or which tentacles' swelling can be reduced with vinegar)

To conclude my thoughts on this volume, that first chapter is great. I was a little worried about what the next plot hook would be but it delivered. They just show straight up that the elf is the lord of the dungeon. And they introduce the mystery of "what is going on with falin." But then it spends 2 whole chapters just telling us stuff we already know. Like it was kinda cool seeing the B Team piece together who A Team is with limited knowledge, but other then the stuff about Shuro there wasn't much new or interesting.

And then the party is just trapped on the 5th floor the entire volume, I imagine because next volume their plans will change and they won't want to go back to the surface and the author wanted to avoid too much backtracking. Which I get, but it ends up feeling like a bunch of these chapters are just kinda killing time until the B team shows up.

That being said, still a great volume of manga. Probably the weakest so far, but only because it's a like a 4.5 instead of a 4.75 or 5.

[nyenuma]

for @rokurookajima my love

They sat together that night and watched the season finale of Korra.

It was a pretty great episode. Wan thought so, anyway. It was the perfect blend of scary and exciting and cool, like all the best Korra episodes.

They watched the evil hybrid Unavaatu pull the Great Spirit out of Korra, bit by bit through her mouth. And then destroy the Great Spirit while Korra looked on helplessly. It ended on a cliffhanger—would Korra find a way to bring the Great Spirit back?

Raava shifted at his side. Wan tried hard not to turn and look at her. He liked watching the episodes with her but always felt so self-conscious, like she was watching him watch the episode, like she was a little person in his head looking through his eyes.

Or something.

But she wasn’t looking at him now. He studied her from the corner of his eye, saw her shoulders shaking and her throat working. She was crying. Her face was dry and she didn’t make a sound. But she was crying, like an alien would, her eyes wide and staring at the screen as the credits rolled.

He didn’t know what to do.

***

Later that night, when he curled up under his thin, stale-smelling blanket, she sat on the steps near him and said, “I’m leaving.”

He sat up—he couldn’t help it. Raava pulled back a little bit. He made himself hold still so she wouldn’t pull back more.

“Why?” he asked.

She shrugged. She’d crossed her arms on her knees and propped her head on them, so the movement made her whole body hiccup. “This place isn’t for me. I need to go somewhere I can be—real.”

Wan stared at her. A thousand thoughts ran through his head, clamoring together until they were just the mindless hum of TV static.

(don’t go—take me with you—you’re real to me—you make me real—)

All he said was, “I won’t have anyone to watch Korra with anymore.”

Raava looked at him. She really looked at him. She didn’t smile, yet her eyes softened.

She got up and went to the coffee table and rummaged there for a minute. Then she came back and knelt in front of Wan, on the stale blanket.

“Unbutton your shirt,” she said.

He stared at her. The room was so dark, still. The light from the old aquarium played across her face.

He unbuttoned his shirt. Just the first few buttons, and then Raava lifted her hand. She was holding a blue pen, the same color as the writing on the tapes she left him.

She leaned forward and pressed its tip into his chest, to the hard flat plane of his sternum where the skin stretched.

She drew carefully, surgically. Like the pen was a knife and she was cutting him open. Her breath blew cool against his throat.

Wan didn’t glance down. He stared straight ahead.

When she was finished she drew back and nodded, inviting him to look. He obliged, though he didn’t really need to; he knew already what it was, had recognized its shape as she’d carved it onto him.

The Great Spirit’s eye. A curling, four-pointed star with a circular pupil in the middle, just like the one that had shown up on Korra’s chest when they had reconnected in season three.

“There,” Raava said quietly.

She capped the pen and laid down next to him. Pretty soon she was asleep, her chest rising and falling in even rhythm.

But Wan was awake the rest of the night.

[natty1730]

Chapter 6 : Watercolor Eyes

Daisy could feel herself tossing and turning in her sleep, sweating from her past memories resurfacing back to her.

She heard Avó in her bedroom. Her Avó was on her knees at the foot of the bed crying her eyes. Daisy was only two at the time and didn’t understand what has happened. "Avó? Você está bem? O que aconteceu?, Por que você está chorando?" (“Avó? Are you okay? What happened?Why are you crying?” ). Avó was whipping her tears and looking at her granddaughter. She walks and lifts Daisy up and puts Daisy on her bed. “"Querida, é sobre sua mãe." ("Honey, it's about your mama. ") Daisy 's eyes were wide and she was worried about her mami. “"O que aconteceu?"("What happened?") . Both her grandma and Daisy were crying. "Algo ruim aconteceu com sua mami, ela sofreu um acidente quando estava caminhando para chegar em casa do trabalho." ("Something bad happened to your mami, she had an accident when she was walking home from work. ") "Ela está bem?" ("Is she ok?") Avó was avoiding Daisy’s eyes because they are the same as her daughter's. “Ela foi morta, Margarida,” (She is dead, Daisy)Daisy cried so hard and she hugged her Avó. "Não vovó, não, ela pode estar morta, ela é minha mãe, ela é minha mãe"("No Grandma, No, she can’t be dead, she's my mama, she's my mama") she cried and cried “"Quem fez isso com ela?” ("Who did this to her?")

Avó looks at the ground. "A polícia ainda está tentando encontrar o assassino da sua mãe. Eles não sabem quem é isso." ("The police are still trying to find your mama's killer. They don't know who this to her.") They cried and cried for hours.

The young girl jumped awake from her dream, and tried to catch her breath. She glanced at the time seeing that it was 3-am, and laid back down onto her bed to stare at the ceiling. Daisy rubbed her eyes away from tears that started to form, and shut her eyes tightly. 'God don't cry. You've been crying so much lately and it's honestly stupid. No one fucking cares so just shut up and take it." She flipped her pillow to the cold side and shoved her face into the pillowcase. 'I wonder what Dee is doing... he's actually really cool. I'm glad that I'll see him tomorrow.' She thought, smiling and slipping into a calm sleep.

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No no no! Not good enough, Again!" Daisy's father said, accidentally spilling a bit of scotch onto the marble floor while doing so. "Father, please let me have a break! My fingers are starting to bruise, look!" The girl held her red-ish purple fingers up to her father's face so he could get a good look, but he merely shook his head and walked behind Daisy. "You will only get a break until you have actually perfected the piece, now again." The man held his daughter's head to look at the music, and forced her to stare at the sheet music. The girl drew in a sharp breath and started to play once again. Daisy could feel her tear ducts starting to water, and her ears started to ring. "God damn it Daisy !" Her father said, before letting go of her head, and forcing her up. It wasn't until the man shoved a rag into her hands, Daisy realized that her bruises had started to bleed, and the blood smeared on the keys. "Clean this up and go. Her father sighed, and walked away leaving Daisy to clean the piano with a rag and bleeding fingers. As the young girl started to wipe the keys of blood, her mind trailed to a certain blonde haired boy and his family. 'I can't believe that the man on the plane is Dee's dad, hopefully he's not over there when I work with Dee. That'll be awkward.' She wiped up the last bit of blood and ran to her room to clean up her hands.

This looks stupid." Daisy mumbled out loud, looking down to see all of her fingers containing band-aids. She glanced at her clock and internally cringed when she saw what time it was. '4pm, I've been playing for eight hours.' She thought to herself while sighing, and walking to the closest to grab her coat. Daisy shrugged it on and made her way downstairs to meet the butler and escape the house, even if it was just for a couple of hours. As the girl snapped on her seatbelt, she couldn't help but notice her father staring at her. "I had a pack of cigarettes lying next to my coat the other day... you wouldn't have happened to know where they are would you?"He said, pulling out of the driveway. Daisy's palms started to sweat and her heart got faster as she reached a hand into her pocket and realized that she stored the cigarettes in her coat pocket on the day her bed was stolen from her. The girl awkwardly coughed and shrugged her shoulders while looking into the window, "I'm not sure. I also don't know why you would ask me." She said, mumbled the last part, noticing her father just sighed . “Please meet me back here at 8pm sharp.”The girl just gave him a strange look “Yes, father.” before taking out her backpack and leaving the car so she could walk to Dee's house.

While walking to Dee's house she saw the car drive away, so she decided to slow down her pace and lit a stolen cigarette from her pocket. As she inhaled the stale smoke from the cigarette she stopped to look above the sky. Daisy took notice of the way how the sky's shockingly beautiful orange sunset was starting to be conquered by the rain clouds that were forming. 'I hope it doesn't rain while I walk to the car.' She thought while taking in one last breath before dropping the cigarette onto the damp concrete and roughly putting it out.

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“Dad please just don't be embarrassed." The blonde haired boy said, sighing nervously while looking at his father. "I promise I won't be embarrassed, I just want to know who she is! That's all!" Glam hummed, while finishing up dinner. You're gonna love her dad! She is super cool, and really funny!" Heavy said, placing an ace on the middle of the table. "Oh come on! I didn't raise my children to be cheaters! Hmph." A muscular woman said, leaning back into her seat and crossing her arms rather angrily. "Ma I didn't cheat I swear! Besides, we're both losing anyway." The two slowly looked over to Ches who was relaxed as usual, holding his cards faced down.Hey, you should really try not looking at your cards until the end. It really works." All of a sudden everyone heard a faint knock at the door. "Please everyone just... be cool. We'll be in my room for most of the time so you don't need to worry." Dee said, quickly making his way to the door and subconsciously fixing his hair. But before he could open it, his father seemingly appeared out of nowhere and opened the door. Glam's height blocked Dee from seeing the girl who was standing at the door, but he could see his father's face turn into a look of surprise. Dee finally pushed past his father to see Daisy , standing and awkwardly scratching her head and Glam’s eyes widened in his mind he thought ‘she looks a lot like Gia’"Uh hey Dee's dad. Long time no see?" The girl said rubbing her palms on her legs to rid herself of the sweat that was forming. "Wait Daisy you know my-" But before Dee could finish his dad had cut him off. "Daisy! It is great to see you! Please come inside, I've just finished making dinner! Besides I'm sure everyone would like to get to know you! We have a coat rack off to the side, if you want to take it off." Glam hummed happily and walked back to the kitchen to set the table for dinner. Dee stared back at Daisy who was shrugging off her jacket and placing it next to an almost identical one. "Wait, so how do you know my dad?" The girl finally looked back into Dee's blue eyes and smiled gently. "I called him creepy on my flight here."

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