#I LOVE THE BLUE PALLETE AND EVERYTHING

[moe-broey]

Quick and rough Plumeria redesign, mostly just cause...... I gotta do what comes naturally to me, man. Give me some Shapes. Simplify that design or so help me.

I don't have a lot of complex thoughts about it, actually! Just the idea of having a "sexy" outfit that draws the eyes to certain parts of the body -- while simultaneously being modest and Sharp. Having an edge to it. Also!!!! The luna moth inspired wings!!! I wanted to stay within her og color palette, but I've also always thought luna moth wings would suit her... the top wing is vaguely heart shaped, too!

[xoxochb]

— here comes the sun ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: just headcannons pairing: riordanverse boys x daughter of apollo

percy jackson loves how good you are with your bow and arrow. he sucks majorly at archery so when you found this out you did everything in your power to teach him to be just as good as you were. this took four months. but! the good thing was that he learned eventually. it took this long solely because every time you were explaining something his eyes would trail down to your lips and he’d zone out and one thing leads to another now he’s kissing you and now you’re kissing back and now you’re not even in the archery field anymore— it’s a whole thing. during the fourth month you got sick of his nonsense and forced him to finally listen to your words and he ended up finally learning basic archery (he later earned a reward for his obedience). besides your great archer skills you’re also skilled at painting. like usual, percy loves to fool around. you’ll have your canvas out and paint sprawled along your pallet but this dumbass takes a finger of paint a spreads it over your face. you both end up covered in paint and your work long forgotten. you made a mental note never to let him paint with you again, but knowing percy and his gorgeous sea green eyes you had no choice but to let him join you again. though you do warn him not to play around with your paint or he’d wake up blue (he probably wouldn’t mind this though)

jason grace is utterly obsessed with your singing voice— most to all nights this is the only thing that can soothe him to sleep. but not even just during the evening, it’s basically mostly throughout the day when you’re singing to him. sometimes you even play a variety of musical instruments to add onto the factor (he ended up learning how to play piano thanks to you). and!! another thing he loves about you is your poetry, especially when the poems are about him, those make his knees go all weak and his cheeks flush pink and he’s such a school girl, it’s ridiculous. but he loves your poems regardless if they’re about him or not, he likes listening to your sweet-like-honey voice and your extremely high vocabulary (gods, he loves your high vocab). along with your love for poems you also share a love for reading, often you’ll find old books to read together, whether it’s together, or separately then you talk about them later, he adores talking about nerdy books together. and since writing is something dear to you and your siblings you wrote your own novel some day with the help of your boyfriend (he’s your number one supporter), including a sweet dedication to him as a thank you and an I love you

leo valdez takes advantage of your healing abilities. every hour he shows up in the infirmary with a new injury whether it’s a small cut or something serious. after a while you started to realize he was purposely hurting himself so he could see you during your work. you scolded him for this and told him you’d much more appreciate his visits if he wasn’t hurt all the time. so after you told him this he started spending less time with his trinkets and getting hurt and more time bothering you in the infirmary (additionally bothering your patients). you’ve found, though, it’s not so easy to care for your patients when your boyfriend has permanently attached himself to you, you eventually had to restrict him from seeing you during your working hours. but do you think this would stop him? no it did not. every day he would wait for you outside as you work, your siblings scold him and tell you to take care of him so that resulted in you getting kicked out of the infirmary too. though with this new free time and all your siblings busy you were able to get the cabin all to yourselves!!

luke castellan is pretty sure every room you walk into instantly brightens up with beams of sunshine (not even figuratively, he really does believe this). your aura is enough the blind the regular man— but lucky for luke he is no regular man, he’s your boyfriend. unfortunately, this does have its downsides, which includes you waking up at the literal ass crack of dawn watching as the sun rises. slowly and carefully you slip yourself from his arms to sit on the porch of cabin eleven as you watch the sky switch from a dark purple/black hue to various colors including orange, pink, or yellow (sometimes all three if your dad is feeling generous enough). over time, though, luke realizes you aren’t in his arms anymore— the first time this happened he was confused and searched frantically for you, but eventually he gets used to you waking up early. on some mornings he will sit outside with you (he loves the way your irises get all bright and yellow at this time of day), he likes how everything is quiet and tranquil and this is one of the only times he’s able to spend alone time with you. he savors these moments over anything else in his life

[dandylovesturtles]

just a little A Team hurt/comfort

------

Raph knocked over some moving boxes during their last shouting match - he spares them a guilty glance as he walks past. Someone has tried to clean up the mess (Mikey, most likely), but he can still tell that they were recently upended and their contents left scattered on the ground.

He knows this is why they told him to go get Leo for breakfast. They want this to be a peace offering. Raph would like for it to be a peace offering, too, but...

Well, it's not like he likes fighting with Leo. Things are just... complicated.

He makes it to Leo's train car, and takes a deep breath before pulling the curtain back. He can do this. One civil interaction.

Leo's already awake, scrolling through his phone. That's in his favor - Leo's always grumpy if you wake him up. At least this way, Raph doesn't have to.

"Hey Leo," he says, and his brother flicks his eyes up from the phone screen. "Breakfast in five. Mikey made waffles."

"Oh, sweet," says Leo. He grins, but even Raph can tell it's forced. "I'll be there in a sec - just checkin' the socials."

And for a moment, Raph almost says something; says that he's sorry, and he takes back everything he said, and Leo should just forget about it, not worry about it, he doesn't want to fight anymore and this is stupid-

And then he thinks about Karai, and the Shredder, and their dad, and the far too close call they had to losing each other, New York, the whole world-

And he thinks about Leo skipping training to go skateboarding, Leo showing up late to patrol with a quip and laugh, Leo charging into fights without so much as a word to the rest of them, Leo who can't take anything seriously-

And it dies in his mouth. He says instead, "Yeah, sure. Just get there before it gets cold."

He turns to leave, but before he can, Leo calls out, "Hey, Raph?"

Raph only half turns, looking over his shoulder at Leo. Wondering if, maybe, Leo is going to try to say something instead. Wondering if he finally gets it, or if they're going to start fighting before breakfast.

Maybe Leo is running the same calculations. Raph is sure he is, actually, because Leo's brain twists over words the way Donnie's twists over physics.

So he must come to the same conclusion, because he doesn't say anything about the fight, or training, or his responsibilities, or any of it. What he says is, "Love you, big bro."

And Raph's heart drops into his stomach.

-----

Leo's always been looser with those words than any of the rest of them. Been that way since they were little, and Splinter kept them in the same part of the sewer, sleeping on pallet beds with whatever pillows and sheets he managed to find in the dump.

"Goodnight, Daddy. I love you," said Leo. "Goodnight Raphie, I love you. Goodnight, Donnie..."

The ritual was long - Leo always used three times as many words as other people. Sometimes Splinter would say, "Yes, yes, Blue, now let your brothers sleep." Sometimes Raph would say, "Hurry it up, Leo." Sometimes Donnie would hide his head under his pillow, or smack that same pillow over Leo's face.

Nowadays, Raph misses that: the sincerely sweet way Leo wanted them all to know he loved them.

As he grew older, Leo began using those words more flippantly. "I love you, but" became one of his stock phrases, a way to soften the blow of criticism. "Come on, you know I love you," said to ward off any retaliation after a prank or insult. "Love ya, bye!" rushed out at the end of one of their rare phone calls, a signal he didn't want to talk anymore.

But every now and then, Raph still got the sincere version. When he brought Leo tea the morning after a bad bout of insomnia. When Leo fussed over an injury, gently winding bandages around his arm or leg. When Leo was sleepy after a long Lou Jitsu marathon, and he reverted to the old ritual as Raph tucked him into bed: "Goodnight, I love you."

The "love you" Leo says to him now, in his room, before breakfast, with the mess of their last big fight barely cleaned up, is none of those.

The "love you" Leo says now is a question.

He doesn't pronounce it like a question. There's no upward lilt to his voice. He doesn't end it by asking if Raph knows. But Raph can still hear it, buried deep in Leo's tone: he's not sure. About loving Raph? About being loved? About what there still is between them?

Raph loves Leo. He loves him so much it aches. It's why he knocked the box over. It's why he wants to knock another ten boxes over. It's why he just needs Leo to understand, to hear him, to see what he sees when he closes his eyes and sees Karai, and the Shredder, and their family almost-

But here they are. With Leo saying "love you" like it's a question and Raph doesn't know the right answer.

"Yeah," he says. "Breakfast in five," he says.

He doesn't know the right answer but he does know that wasn't it.

He leaves Leo in his room, and goes back to his own. Puts his face in his hands. He sees Karai.

He knocks another box over.

-----

Leo's hand is a tiny thing in his. It's also, maybe, the only part of his body that isn't broken. Not like his legs, his arms, his shell, his jaw, his neck-

Raph can't look at his neck. The bruise there makes him want to throw up.

Leo's been out of critical condition for almost two full days. It hasn't made any of them less on edge, and they still spend most of their time crowded in the med bay, watching Leo's chest like it will stop rising the moment they turn their backs.

But Leo's heart doesn't stop, and he breathes in and out, and Raph holds his hand and strokes the back of it with his thumb.

He'd wanted Leo to understand.

He hadn't wanted this to be how Leo learned.

When he closes his eyes now he sees Leo right next to Karai, and he has to touch Leo again, to make sure he's still really there.

Movement from the bed, and a soft noise. Raph's gaze trails up from Leo's hand to his eyes, open but heavy lidded, clouded with a haze of exhaustion and medicine.

"Hey, Leo," he says, trying to keep his tone upbeat despite it all. "You're home; you're safe."

"Mm," hums Leo, still sleepy. He twists the hand that Raph's holding, adjusting his grip so it's wrapped around Raph's thumb. He strokes at Raph the way Raph had just been doing for him, and Raph feels tears sting his eyes.

"Love you, Raphie," says Leo, and this time, there's not a hint of uncertainty.

Raph's heart lurches again. Whatever answer Leo had been looking for last time, he must have found it.

But.

Raph doesn't plan to leave anything to chance. Not anymore.

"Love you too, Leo." He leans in, press his forehead to the top of Leo's head. "I love you, too."

Leo makes a pleased noise, low in his throat. He's already sinking back into sleep, his grip on Raph's hand growing loose. His breaths are still steady and even, heart beating strong, the look on his face peaceful.

"Goodnight, Leo," says Raph. "I love you."

[m4lexxx67]

I did it, I'm done!!! I finished what is probably one the coolest projects I have ever done and it turned out SO COOL, I'm so excited!!! Everyone come look at it cause I made a fucking killjoys shirt collection!!!

Everyone of the Fab Four got their own type of shirt that I think fits them and they're all the same concept (logo on the back, name in the front, most of the design in their color plus some smaller detail in another color that's kind of in their pallet (taken from their ray guns), words associated with the character) but the font and placement of the writing changes and all that and I really love that they obviously belong together but still look so different!

Also fun fact it took fucking FOREVER to paint Ghoul cause it's sooo many lines and painting lines takes so much time cause you can't just carefully draw a sharp edge and then quickly fill in the rest (like for example Jet's logo) because basically everything is edge! And the design for Kobra's name? Such a pain in the ass, there's so many sketches that were all scrapped. Like in total it took me maybe one and a half to two hours to come up with all of the designs, except for Kobra's stupid fucking name, I kept going back to it for literal weeks!! But honestly so worth it, it turned out exactly as I wanted and just all in all feels very Kobra to me

(As for the different shades of blue/green on Jet's and Ghoul's shirts... The shirts have been done for a while and were lying around my room without being folded or anything, so that's just folds and light reflections, the colors are actually very even)

[oneofstarkskids]

saturn

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky just likes to spoil his doll. you shouldn't expect any less on date night

genre: do you even have to ask anymore? ofc it's fluff

*not my gif*

it was your favorite night of the week. date night. you and bucky promised to spend one night a week just for yourselves. no missions, no avengers, just the two of you.

you would switch off planning every other week. today it was bucky's turn, and he always had the most romantic ideas.

you always loved spending time with bucky, but you especially needed it today. you felt inexplicably exhausted and wanted nothing more than sweet kisses and soft whispers from your blue eyed soldier.

his hands were resting on your hips and he had this teasing grin that told you he was up to something. "sam's letting us borrow his truck and it's already packed up."

you arched a brow, "how long are we going to be gone?" he kisses your forehead, "just for the night. don't worry, doll. i've got everything under control."

his words melted your heart and a smile spread across your lips instantly. "you can't tell me anything? not even an itty bitty clue?" you asked with a pout.

he gave you a stern look, "no, because that would ruin the surprise."

you groaned, but bucky just wrapped you in his arms and kissed all over your face, "you can wait a couple hours. trust me, it'll be worth it."

you grinned and shook your head, but you believed him.

he set you down carefully, "now go pack an overnight, so we can get out of here." you laughed and started walking away, but jumped as you felt bucky slap your ass. you turned around and shot him a glare.

the drive down was long and unfamiliar. you practically sighed in relief when bucky finally stopped the vehicle and turned off the engine.

you stepped out to stretch your legs and look around, but there was nothing to see. nothing but miles of fields and distant trees.

"hey, bucky?" you shouted to him as he got out too.

"yeah?" he shouted back, digging in the cargo bed for something.

"did you drag me out here to murder me?" you joke bluntly.

you turn to meet his disappointed scowl. "really?" he asks as you walk towards him.

you laugh, "i'm kidding! but seriously, what are we doing all the way out here?

bucky starts unfolding blankets and making a pallet in the back of the truck, "well, ever since we watched the one movie about the girl who falls in love with the boy but doesn't tell him she's dying, you haven't stopped talking about how romantic star-gazing is. so..."

he pulls out a large telescope and has the cutest grin on his face. you can hardly contain your excitement, "bucky! that's so sweet!" he gently sets the device down before you run into his arms.

"anything for you, doll face," he chuckles and places a kiss on your temple.

you help him finish setting the scene before laying in his arms and talking for a couple of hours. and of course, he brought snacks. could he be anymore perfect?

once it finally gets dark enough for you to see the stars, you look up in awe. you'd lost complete track of time with bucky. he stands up in the bed of the truck and reaches for your hand to lift you to your feet.

bucky brings you close and positions the telescope just right for you. he stands right up against you as you gaze at the sparkling sky. every now and then you'll ask him about a constellation and he'll look at this book that he brought along to give you the answers.

one could say it was the perfect date, but what really made it perfect was him.

a/n: i low key rushed the ending but its fiiiine. it's 4 am, give me a break.

[starlightguh]

An Artist Always Signs His Work

Word Count: 1,879

Tags: inappropriate uses of paint, Oral f!receiving

AN: 18+ Smut !MDNI¡ I started working on this before the Rafayel banner announcement and wanted to finish and post this before the new card dropped! I’ve truthfully not been the biggest Rafayel girly but lately he’s shown up in some spicy dreams of mine so I hope this does him justice 💕

I was taking my time doing my hair for a little outing with Tara that I had planned, when my phone started buzzing. I pause my hair routine and see Rafayel’s picture with his contact name: My Sushi <3 light up my screen.

I answer with a cutesy ‘Hellooo’ and am met with a disgruntled groan from the other end.

“I can’t do it! I won’t do it! I simply cannot draw anymore no matter how much Thomas threatens me!”

“Woah, slow down what happened?” I stifle a laugh at his dramatics.

“They expect me to have a new painting for that gallery by the end of this week and I just can’t! No matter how much I’ve painted nothing is giving that inspiration I need….You have to come help,” his voice sobbed on the other line.

“Rafayel I can’t, I have other engagements today I can’t just drop everything to help you with your art,” I sigh at his drama.

“Oh so you hate me. I get it. Well I see how much you care about me and my dying wishes, so I’m hanging up now,” his voice was full of sass as he then hung up on me.

I let out a long exasperated groan and gave Tara a phone call, “hey girl I might have to rain check on our tea date.”

“Oh that’s funny you called first! I actually ran into Dr.Greyson and am kinda caught up with him right now…We’ll definitely touch base and reschedule when I see you at work! Bye girly!”

Well that was easy. I continue to finish getting ready to go see my dying artist…

~~~~~~~~~

Im buzzed into Mo art studio with no problem. I didn’t bother calling Rafayel back since I knew where he would be whether I showed up or not.

“Knock, knock,” I call out as I open the doors to his studio space.

“Studio’s closed, I'm busy passing away…” Rafayel, whose clothes were covered in various paint colors, was laying on the floor with his arm covering his eyes.

“But I came to revive you.”

He lifts his arm away from his face and he lets in a sharp little gasp as he takes in my appearance.

I was a bit dressier than usual in my shiny short white dress and my hair and makeup done. I smiled down at his stunned expression as the pupils of his eyes darken.

“I think I’ve found my inspiration,” he says with a bit of a confident smirk.

He slowly lifts up his torso and smiles up at me before holding out his index fingers and thumbs to create a frame of me in his vision.

“Oh so that’s why you wanted me to come here, you needed a muse?”

He stands up and his taller height makes me lean my head back a bit to glance into his deep sea blueish eyes. Rafayel placed his hand under my chin and moved my face from side to side, appraising my facial features.

“Not necessarily, but your beauty has striked my inspiration. Come here while I paint,” he takes my hand and drags me to the center of his studio.

He has me sit on top of a stool in front of the background of his flowing white curtains as he sets up a canva and easel in front of me.

I sit a bit awkwardly, unsure of what to do with myself. So I kick my feet a bit as Rafayel is pouring the paints he wants to use on his wooden pallet.

His eyes are scanning the scene before him as a mischievous smirk crosses his face, “I think the subject needs more color.”

I look down at my white dress and frown, “Well I didn’t exactly bring anything else.”

He wordlessly strides over to me, and with a paint brush he slashes a stroke of blue paint on my bare arm.

“Hey! Rafayel! What are you doing?!” I shout as he laughs while splashing my skin with more paint.

“I'm just painting on my lovely canvas,” he smirks and then dips his hand in some of the paint on the pallet.

He places his forehead against mine while letting out a shaky breath as his paint covered hand slowly and sensually caresses down my bust to my waist. As his hand is the paint brush that has now ruined my dress, he stops at my waist and grips it.

“Raf,” I whisper as I glance at his plush lips. His eyes were now dark and intimate as he no longer stared at me like his muse, but rather his meal.

He lets out a huff and leans his head down to place a soft kiss at my pulse point in my neck. The only sounds I could hear was the smacking of his lip’s against my skin and the shakiness of my own breath.

I felt his nose drag up against my neck as he then brought his lips to my ear to whisper to me, “You know, when I paint, I prefer to paint subjects in their most natural state…”

He purred in my ear and pulled away a bit as he dipped his hand in his pallet and proceeded to set it down as he covered both hands in colors.

“Rafayel,” I said in a warning tone as he now has both of his hands on my body and ruined my dress with shades of blues and purples. “You owe me a new dress.”

He looks down at the paint covering my arms and seeing his hand prints on the dress he hums and nods, “You’re right….Let’s get this canvas to her natural state then.”

Before I could process what he meant by that, he had unzipped my dress and removed it off my body. I let out a yelp as the cold air touched my now exposed skin.

“This too,” he grumbled and popped my bra off immediately.

As I sat on this stool naked in nothing but my panties with wet paint covering my arms, I looked at him annoyed as my face with hot with embarrassment, “Shouldn’t you stop fooling around and actually work on your painting?” My eyes glance to the now abandoned easel he had set up.

His hands were all over my skin, his soft fingertips gently tracing paths around my breasts and sternum, leaving color in its wake. “But I am working on my painting dearest, it’s already beautiful,” he says in a whisper before leaning down to capture one of my plump mounds in his mouth.

I wrap my legs around him and let out whimpers as his tongue swirls around my sensitive bud. His face is now getting paint on it from the trails his fingers left behind earlier.

As he pulls away from my breast with a smack he stares up at me as he goes to give the other one attention. My face contorts as the feeling of his lips breaks my composure. His deep eyes are drinking in my expression as his mouth works on me and I close my eyes and turn my head away to hide from his intense gaze.

Rafayel pulls away and moves my head to face him, leaving more stains of paint as he does, “Look at me.” His voice sounds deeper than his usual teasing tone and is full of command.

I open my eyes and as I do he leans in and kisses me with a fierce intensity. His hands cup my jaw and I wrap my arms around him as his tongue parts my lips and dances in my mouth.

I drag my fingers into his purple hair as he groans into my mouth. When he pulls away I’m panting as our lips are still connected by a strand of saliva. He licks his lips with a smirk and he bites his bottom lip as he takes in my panting and flushed form.

“This is almost the vision I have,” he says as he crouches down to get more paint on his hand. He slides his hands that are wet with fresh colors up my legs as he parts them to have me sit in a straddle pose on the stool. “Beautiful.”

His hands grip my thighs as he stares at the small wet patch that’s dampened my teal cotton panties. Rafayel, like a man possessed, slides his hands underneath both sides of my underwear to slide them off me. My legs follow his path as the cotton is now cast aside and his hands are holding my painted thighs apart to expose my wet center to his vision.

“Now that I’ve painted my canvas, it’s only right that I sign my work,” his voice rumbles as he gets closer and closer to my center and he gives a lick on my slit.

“Raf-“ I pant and go to grab the back of his head, but he stops my movement with a grip on my wrist, “Don’t move or you’ll ruin the portrait.”

He lets my wrist go and dives into my center, drinking in my dripping essence with his thirsty lips. I can’t help but grip the sides of the stool and lean my head back with a moan.

The contrast of his hot mouth on me in comparison to my cold body covered in wet paint made my mind melt. I was drowning in pleasure as I could hear the lewd squelching and smacking of his mouth on my dripping pussy.

I could feel more than hear him growl as I placed my legs on his shoulders and my toes dug into the fabric of his white shirt.

“Gods Rafayel…I’m gonna,” I squeal as I close my eyes and feel his tongue on my clit.

As I focus on my breathing I can feel his tongue make what feels like the shape of an R on my slit, followed by an A then F….

I could feel my lower body tighten and heat up as I was close, “Rafayel please I’m-I…” I sputtered out as he made it to Y in his name.

He pulled away for a moment and his voice was filled with lust, “Come. Let go for me.”

When he went back to my clit and quickly finished spelling his name he then slid his tongue inside my needy hole and I instantly came undone on his mouth with a high pitched moan.

As I was breathing heavily from my orgasm, Rafayel pulled away with half of his face dripping in my juices. He smiled and licked his lips, “Perfect stay like that.”

He stood and rushed over to the actual canvas and quickly began trying to immortalize my pleasure in a painting on his canvas.

Needless to say he had to repose his muse with a few more orgasms to ‘get my expression just right.’

The finished product was me covered in paints of blues and purples and completely fucked out of my mind, while his actual portrait depicted a naked woman being swallowed up by the sea. I was too embarrassed to acknowledge that her pleasured face was what Rafayel saw as he expertly pulled out of me over and over again that day.

~fin~

[malfunctioningemi]

Hi im emi and i think way too much about sk8 the infinity part 261

COLOUR THEORY TIME i just had like, a brain blast in realisation.

Reki is yellow coded, langa is blue. Usually people would ASSUME reki is the "red" character of the show because of his hair, but i think that just helps to show off his passionate and firey personality. His colour is yellow because he is energetic, friendly and most often optimistic (especially when it comes to helping people learn how to skate or make friends)

Langa is blue coded, usually used for quiet, cold and mysterious characters, or those with lots of sadness (think inside out). BUT because he is pastel blue, his sadness is lighter because of people like reki lifting him out if it. He is still young and has time to grow.

Because they are yellow and blue coded, its different from what is the usual trope of red and blue which are most often rivals or opposites. BUT because theyre yellow and blue, theyre actually perfectly made to compliment each other. I like to see it as reki being the sun to langas moon.

Now. You know who IS red coded? Adam. He is passionate and all about love and anger, the two emotions most connected to red. Because he is red, it links into his whole idea of thinking he "belongs" with langa, but he is already fulfilled by being with reki.

Then we see adams colours slowly change from red to that dark blue we see him wearing in the finale. He comes to realise that he was chasing after langa because he thought they were the same (blue = sad and hurt. Adam being a deeper blue means his emotions and sadness runs deeper aka because he has had YEARS longer to sit with his feelings and trauma) but it takes langa, a fellow blue, being happy and excited and wanting to skate with REKI not him, to show him that he doesnt have to put on this red boisterous persona. If we look at Adam through the years, he's never really had a red-coded personality. It's always an act. How he thinks people wANT him to act.

He's a blue, just like his hair and the suit he wears.

Now. Joe and cherry.

Cherry being pink is so INTERESTING TO ME. Its seen as graceful and youthful, but is also just a toned down version of red. Cherry CAN be graceful and composed, but is also full of so much anger and emotion (especially towards adam) and the fact the two are similar in colour makes me so invested. I also think Cherry has a complex colour pallet- being not only pink, but also wearing deep blues and whites. He is elegant and complex.

THEN JOE. oh joe. My deep green giant. He is down to earth (haha get it) and is always trusting his gut with everything, AND IDK IF YOU HAVE NOTICED THIS BUT HE NEVER GIVES BAD ADVICE!! Green is usually associated with grounded and level-headed characters, but green is also the colour of jealousy. Joe doesn't seem like the jealous type, but he has this strange loneliness to him. All he has is his restaurant and Cherry. He never seems to be able to fully grasp what he wants, so finds his fufillment in other places.

Now onto the fact that pink and green ARE opposites and so are cherry and joe. Where cherry is quiet and reserved, joe is loud and energetic. Their lifestyles and jobs couldn't really be more different. They argue and bicker and always seem to know what perfectly annoys the other most.

BUT!! Pink and green (while being opposites) ARE ALSO COMPLIMENTARY!!!! they work well together beCAUSE theyre so different. And being together just seems to work out somehow.

ANYWAYS. Yeah. Sun and moon coded renga are very special to me :)

[fantasy-angelo]

@centuryberry

I come bearing a gift

Im finishing up a whole bunch of other stuff that has been in the works for a LONG time, but i also did a quick sketch to not burn myself out

Yue's everything guys

She's just a lil guy who won't hesitate for her loved ones uwu

I also tweaked the colors to where the blues won't clash horribly and might probably translate well into lego :D

The clothes color pallet was still berry lol

[fourmoony]

Friends or What?

James Potter x F!Reader

A coming of age story in which Potter's Corner Shop has a funny way of bringing people together. Falling in love is daunting when everyone is watching.

Ao3 Link (chapters will be uploaded here the day before Tumblr).

CW: For Chapter One, the content warnings include: Use of the word 'fag', but in context to a cigarette (UK slang) Foul language A minor using the word 'shagging' Smoking/Drinking alcohol A comment about hoping someone chokes Threat of caving someone's head in with a baseball bat (it's lighthearted, I swear) Implied internalised homophobia Mentions of fighting

Please be aware that this fic will contain multiple hard to read scenes, and I completely understand, if because of this, you choose not to read :) it's a coming of age fic, while there'll be lots of fluff and happy moments, there'll also be lots of hard, uncomfortable moments, too. Please, please, do not make yourself uncomfortable.

CHAPTER ONE (7k) -

Sirius is stocking the fag drawers, behind the counter, when you come in through the shop door. The little bell above the wooden frame dings to announce your arrival. Sirius doesn’t turn upon hearing the bell, nor does he acknowledge there’s even anyone in the shop. You follow his lead, heading up the sweetie aisle, wiggling your fingers as you go, lips puckered in anticipation as you search of the cherry lollies you know were delivered this morning. Whether or not Sirius has bothered to unload the pallet yet is a strong factor in whether you’ll find them sitting where they’re supposed to be. Your eyes scan the shelves, there are no cherry lollies to be found. No worries, you think, picking up a fashion magazine as you pass the stand.

You walk the loop of the shop, hear the bell ding in the distance signal someone else has come in. It smells like newspapers and the inside of the fridges that line the back wall of the shop; the radio crackles through tinny speakers, playing the UK Top 40 and you just know Sirius is hating every minute of it. When you approach the till, Sirius still has his head in the fag drawer, whistling along to his own song, radio be damned.

“You didn’t put the cherry lollies out, lazy arse,” you say.

Sirius jumps, turns as though you might be standing there with a balaclava and machete, ready to demand he open and empty the till. He rolls his eyes when his brain catches up with the situation, head bobbing to the left where the storeroom door sits, a pale blue, creaky thing that drives everyone insane on stock days with its constant whine every time it opens and closes, “Help yourself.”

The storeroom is cold and dark, but spacious, with piles of overflow stock lined up against the walls, organised into specific sections. It’s almost scary how neat it is. There’s a pallet in the middle of it all, wrapped in black plastic that’s been ripped at the top; likely Sirius taking the fags out. You scan the pile with a frown, knowing it’ll be an annoying game of Jenga trying to find the lollies without pulling everything else down with them. It takes a while, and a bit of rearranging, but you find the tub and return to Sirius with a triumphant smile. The customer that followed you in is filing out the door, so you allow Sirius to scan your items and give him the money.

“You should be about halfway through that pallet by now, it’s gone one in the afternoon, you know.” You chastise Sirius playfully.

He scowls when you sit on the counter beside the till one leg curled up and tucked underneath you, the other swinging back and forth, kicking and wobbling the specials display underneath the till. He knows he’s not getting rid of you any time soon when you flip open your magazine, unwrap your lolly, and stick it in your mouth.

“It showed up late. Problem with a road closure, or something.” Sirius replies, turning back to the drawer.

He rips open a packet of Sterling Duals and starts stuffing them into the drawer. You hum, amused, “That what you’re going to tell Effie?”

Sirius scoffs, an air of arrogance to him when he looks over his shoulder, long, black hair flicking with the movement, “It’s the truth. Plus, Effie never shouts at me. You know this.”

“Perks of being the boss’s son.”

Sirius seems to preen at your jab over his nepotism. He’s always very happy to be known as Euphemia and Fleamont Potter’s son. You don’t know much about his situation, just that the Potter’s took Sirius in when he was sixteen and none of them ever looked back. He’s happy and he’s cared for, and he seems to love being their son. So, you don’t ask. It’s none of your business, anyway.

The bell dings again and you and Sirius both look over out of habit. You have to lean past the roll stand to your left to fully see who’s came in, but when you catch sight of James, your grin grows wider. James Potter is Euphemia and Fleamont’s son. Biological son. Granted, that doesn’t matter with the way Effie fawns over Sirius like he was the biological one. She claims to love them the same. You secretly think Sirius is the favourite, though you have no idea why. He’s an insufferable shit, most of the time. James is nice. He’s bright and always happy, a proper ray of sunshine which, on the bad days, can be a little annoying.

It’s rather hard to be angry at the world when James Potter is standing there with his stupidly pretty grin and his big brown eyes, spouting such optimism into the world that things just start to feel better because he says they will.

“Delivery came late, mate. Just got it half an hour ago.” Sirius doesn’t even greet his best friend with a ‘Hello’, just moves straight onto damage control over the fact he’s still restocking the fag counter at one o’clock in the afternoon.

“Don’t listen to him, Jamie,” You say, popping the cherry lolly out of your mouth to talk properly, “He’s a dirty liar. Lazy arse, too.”

James laughs, approaches where you’re perched on the counter and stands so close you can smell his aftershave. It’s a bit of a cliché, honestly; fancying your boss’s son. Well, really, he’s your friend before he’s Effie and Monty’s son. You’ve always been friends. Since before you started working at the shop. Since school, really. But still. The cliché sits a little clunky in your chest sometimes. Especially when he looks as handsome as he does, today. He’s wearing his rugby jumper and a pair of joggies. Really, it’s nothing special. But he looks so soft. So cosy. His hair is all mussed up from the wind and his glasses are a little squint.

You reach out a manicured finger to push them further up his nose and he smiles down at you. Yeah, you think, pathetic.

“Are you here to work or cause trouble?” James asks with a teasing smile whilst Sirius sputters at your accusations.

“I can multitask, you know,” is your reply, words sweet as honey, “But to answer your question, no, sadly I am not here to work.”

“And yet you’re still here, annoying me with your presence.” Sirius mumbles.

You roll your eyes, turn to James with pouted lips, “See the way he talks to me?”

In James’s defence, he plays the game. See how far you can push each other before the other gets flustered and has to walk away. Last week he gave you a taste of your own medicine so bad that you had to stand in the stock room like an idiot for five minutes counting tins of beans until your face returned to its normal colour. You’re good at putting up a front, acting like whatever the two of you are doing doesn’t effect you, that you’re cool, calm, and collected about the whole thing. But the tins of beans in the stock room would tell a different story, could they talk. You’re glad they can’t, as silly as that thought is.

James, bless him, humours you – much to Sirius’ dismay – and coos, brows furrowed in mock-sympathy, “Poor soul.”

“Okay, fine, if this was your plan to get me to do the pallet, I’ll go.” Sirius finally breaks, hands held up in surrender.

It wasn’t your plan, but you watch him leave with an amused smile.

“The road into the village was shut, I know the delivery was actually late.” James laughs to himself.

“Hm,” You hum, ditching your magazine to the side and swinging your legs over the counter until you’re standing behind it, “Me too.”

“Thought you weren’t working today.”

You shrug, picking up where Sirius left off with the fags, your back turned to James, “I’ll do these and then I’ll be off.”

“Thanks.” James rounds the counter the normal way, punching his clock in card on the machine beside the till.

You look up, find him leaning against the counter by his hip, a small smile on his face. He’s so charming, you think.

“Don’t thank me,” You warn, the ghost of a mischievous smirk dancing across your face, “I’m putting them all in backwards, so he has to redo them all.”

“You know how he gets about the fag drawers,” James groans, because he knows he has to spend the rest of the day listening to Sirius gripe about whatever it is you’re about to do. “They’re his… area.”

“Yeah, well,” You shrug, “He didn’t put the cherry lollies out.”

James doesn’t have an answer for that. He just huffs a laugh and reaches for a packet to open and starts to pass you them.

-----

‘The Saturday Girls’, or so they’re nicknamed, are nice. They’re so coined because they only work Saturdays to help with unloading the bulk of the delivery that comes that morning. It’s a weekend job, perfect for them because they’re still in school, and it offers them a bit of pocket money. It would’ve been a dream job for you at fifteen, but Shauna and Lisa sometimes seem like having to work a shift in Potter’s Corner Shop is the bane of their entire teenage existence. Like now, Shauna stands leaning up against the end of the third aisle, passing Lisa packages of toilet rolls off the trolley with a sardonic look on her face.

You can hear them talking about a girl in their form class, how she’s after Shauna’s boyfriend and it brings unwanted flash backs of being that age, that naïve, when the idea of someone stealing your boyfriend felt like the end of the world. Really, they should have a trolley each, working on separate aisles. But you don’t get paid enough to boss them around; and if Shauna’s insults to whatever girl is trying to steal her man are anything to go by, you don’t actually want to be on her bad side.

Sirius has taken a falling out with the fag drawers since your ruin of them, yesterday, and so you’ve spent the better part of the morning facing them all the correct way. There’s a box of clipper lighters on the floor at your feet to be unloaded, too.

“I’m too scared to tell them that putting toilet roll on the shelves isn’t a two-woman job,” James appears behind you following the nerve grating squeak from the storeroom door, leaning on the counter with a lopsided smile.

He’s placed the clipboard with all of today’s stock details on the counter, pen tucked neatly under the clip of it. You know he’s here for your signature, cutting the job in half for you by doing the inventory himself. He likes numbers, you hate them, he’s happy to do it so long as he doesn’t have to fix the mess you created in the fag drawers. Besides Sirius, you’re the only person to be trusted in Sirius’ sacred area. Ironically enough. You pick the pen up with a hum, scribbling your name to state you were here when the delivery arrived this morning, “Some poor girl in their form is getting it tight, today. Shauna thinks she’s after her man.”

James laughs airily, “So I shouldn’t go over there and intervene?”

“Best not. I’ll come up with something I need help with in five, ask her to help me. Just need to finish these, first.” You say, waving a packet of JPS Red around so James knows what you’re talking about.

“Thanks,” Is James’ reply, “For the signature and for saving me from getting called a daft bint, or something, behind my back.”

Your laugh is bubbly and comes out of your mouth so fast you don’t have time to be embarrassed about it. It makes James laugh, too, low, and throaty as he taps the pen against the clipboard. He shakes his head and makes his retreat to the office at the back of the storeroom, likely to file the inventory sheet for Monty to look over on Monday. It only takes you a few more minutes to fix the rest of the fags, all in their correct places, all facing the correct way. The clippers are unloaded haphazardly into the tub in the bottom drawer, and then you’re off, on the hunt for Shauna.

She and Lisa have made it to the baby wipes when you come down the aisle that they’re in. Shauna is leaning against the trolley now that she doesn’t have the wall at the end of the aisle to lean on, and she’s passing Lisa the packets one by one. Lisa has her head ducked into the shelf to reach all the way to the back, but Shauna straightens up when she sees you round the corner.

“Hey, you okay to help me build some stuff up in the storeroom to get it off the pallet?” You ask.

There’s an empty box on the trolley that you reach for, pulling it apart until it’s flat and you can stick it inside the bag on the back of the trolley. Shauna gives a longing glance to Lisa, as though being parted from her will bring her physical pain. It’s quite comical, really. A small part of you misses being so young and carefree. Shauna nods, following you to the storeroom.

James is holding the door open on your way past, “I’ll keep an eye on the till.”

You thank him and Shauna follows you through. There’s not much to be unloaded, really. You and James got the majority done this morning when it arrived, and so its overstock that’s left. Shauna follows your lead, knowing by now where everything goes. There’s cereal and biscuits, teabags and coffee jars, there’s alcohol and fizzy juice. Shauna doesn’t talk much while you work, which isn’t surprising. She’s rather quiet and subdued with the rest of the staff, most of the time. Without Lisa to bounce off of, Shauna doesn’t usually say much.

“How long have you and James been together?” Shauna asks out of nowhere.

It’s less surprising to hear her starting conversation than the question she’s actually asked, which is saying something. The box of ready salted crisps in your hands go toppling backwards from where you’d been reaching to put them on top of the pile as you twist to face her, eyebrows somewhere near your hairline. The girl looks nonplussed, lifting a crate of Red Stripe and placing it with the other alcohol against the wall closest to the door.

“Sorry?”

You can’t quite find the words, brain reeling at a mile a minute because have other people noticed whatever game you and James are playing and assumed you’re together? That’s incredibly embarrassing and unprofessional. Shauna doesn’t seem to notice your confusion as she barrels on, seemingly in her own world, “It’s just cause, me and this boy from school have been going out for, like, a month, yeah?”

She doesn’t actually wait for your response as she picks up another crate of beer and sticks it on top of the pile she’s created, “And this girl from my form keeps trying to text him. He’s told me he’s ignoring her, but I dunno if I believe him.”

“Right.” You say, a bit dazed, trying to keep up with what she’s saying whilst trying to put together what this would have to do with you and James.

“I guess I’m just wondering what you’d do if it was another girl trying to get with James. Like, would you go barmy?” Shauna asks, and you can tell there’s a hint of insecurity in there somewhere.

Picking up the crisps you’d dropped rather ungracefully, you tell her, “Well, James and I aren’t together. Like, at all. But if it was someone I really liked, I’d be a bit upset, I suppose. If he says he isn’t replying, I’d believe him until he gives you a reason not to.”

Shauna seems pleased with that answer, but feels the need to add, “Anyone would think you and James are together. Or, at the very least, shagging.”

There’s really nothing you can say to that, is there? It knocks the wind out of you, flusters you, and concerns you all at once. What do fifteen-year-olds know about shagging? Well, you suppose it’s all your friends wanted to talk about at fifteen, too. But. Well. No. Just, no.

“Right,” Shauna breaks your flustered silence by dusting her hands on the side of her trousers, “That it, then?”

Right enough, the pallet is empty. You open your mouth to talk but find nothing will come out, so you close it and nod. She files out of the storeroom after shooting you a weird glance but doesn’t feel the need to add anything more. You count tins of beans until your brain decides it can function again.

“The Saturday Girls have got to go.” You tell James when you slip behind the till ten minutes later.

He breaks his focus from the screen the security camera’s run on, eyebrows narrowed in concern, “She said something?”

You wave your hand, 'nothing too bad', it signals, “Asked how long we’ve been shagging.”

James promptly chokes on air, pounds his chest a few times with wide eyes. You wonder if you should be offended, or if he’s just genuinely surprised Shauna was so brass necked about the whole ordeal. You settle on a nod and a placating look, exactly, you think.

“She’s like, twelve.”

Huffing a laugh, you correct him, “Fifteen, actually. But still, I dropped a box of crisps, nearly toppled the whole tower I was so gobsmacked.”

“What,” James laughs after, “at the suggestion of shagging me, or her boldness?”

If there’s one thing James Potter knows how to do, it’s get under your skin. He’s wearing that signature knowing smirk, the one he wears when he’s thinking something mischievous, or he knows exactly what you’re thinking, feeling, like he can see right into your soul. He’s a prick, you decide. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

The thing is: this game is slowly spiralling into more than you can handle. It’d started as an easy way to irritate Sirius, then an even easier way to make the boring shifts go in quicker, then it was just fun. Watching the way his tongue pokes the side of his cheek when he’s considering a rebuttal, or trying to hide a smile, the way his jaw clenches when you come in on your days off wearing tight clothes, only to perch yourself on the edge of the counter and promptly tease him all day. It’s fun. But now it’s too much. James is too much. Because at the start, he’d get shy and flustered, brush you off in a polite manner. But now. Well, now he’s an evil shit who likes to make you weak and hot and bothered and all of the in-betweens every chance he gets.

“Jamie,” You smile, sweet as honey, eyes doe-like and offering him the challenge, “You couldn’t handle me.”

The minute James shakes his head, hair flopping to the side, tongue pushed into his cheek, you know you’ve won this round. He slinks off to find another job for Shauna to do, who you can see on the security cameras has gone back to passing Lisa things off of the trolley.

Twenty-six tins of beans. There are twenty-six tins of beans in the storeroom.

-----

The rota goes like this: Monday: Monty, open. You and James, close. Tuesday: Sirius and James, open. Remus, close. Wednesday: Effie, open. Monty, close. Thursday: Remus and James, open. You and Sirius, close. Friday: Sirius, open. Effie, close. Occasionally James, close. Saturday: You and James, open. Effie and Monty, close. Sunday: Monty, open. You and Remus, close.

The open shift runs from seven o’clock in the morning, until two in the afternoon, and the close shift runs from two o’clock in the afternoon, until ten o’clock at night. Potter’s is the only shop in the village open until ten, and it’s a busy shop because of this. Probably, also, because the Potters are well known, well liked, and well respected.

But the main thing to note about the rota is that Sirius Black and Remus Lupin are never scheduled to work a shift together. Ever. The simple reason is because they don’t get on. Like, despise each other for a reason that is unbeknownst to you, and even James, who is Sirius’ best friend in the entire world, his brother. Personally, you think their beef is pointless. But the delivery driver who dropped off the Saturday pallet five months ago and ended up having to break up a petty argument between the two would likely disagree. Apparently, some harsh words had been said between the two, and after the Potter’s decided Sirius was just as much an instigator as Remus was easy to snap, and that both of them were irreplaceable as workers, the new rota was made, stapled to the office wall, never to be changed, and with their names never beside each other.

It’s strange, to you, because Sirius and Remus are both lovely. You enjoy working with both of them. Separately, of course. They seem to know that in the situation of their hatred of each other, you and James are both Switzerland. You’ll listen to them rant about each other, sympathise with their feelings, but ultimately add nothing of note to the conversation. Sometimes you think that bothers them more. Unfortunately, there’s no avoiding their hatred of each other every Saturday in the pub, but they’ve become increasingly better at tolerating each other’s presence. It no longer ends in one or the other storming out of the pub or offering to meet each other outside for a scrap. Small wins. You’ve no idea where they get the energy to put so much effort into their animosity towards each other. A small part of you actually thinks they enjoy getting each other riled up to the point of snapping, the same way you and James do, just with more insults and less innuendos. Each to their own, you suppose.

Remus has his foot kicked up against the wall with a fag in his hand when you near the shop door. He’s staring across the road at the small play park, looking rather lost. There’s a group of kids on the swings, laughing and chatting away. They’re young looking. Ten, maybe eleven. When he notices you, Remus seems to snap out of whatever daydream he’s in, eyes softening and his lips turning upward into a smile. It pulls at the scar slicing across his cupids bow, taught, but paling out at the stretch. There’s a number of scars that litter Remus’ skin, the product of a nasty car crash he was in as a child. You don’t notice them as much, now, as when he first started working at Potter’s. They’re just part of who he is, and they make him no less handsome.

“Here even on your day off,” Remus tsks, passes you the cigarette.

You have a draw, blowing out the smoke with the ghost of a teasing smile on your lips, “Someone’s got to mind the till on your eighteen fag breaks.”

Remus laughs, accepting of the jab, “Monty’s in today. Shops not totally unmanned.”

“Ah,” You hum, passing him the fag back, “Unusual for him. He usually runs off the minute his shift finishes.”

He nods, sandy hair flopping in a mess of curls on top of his head. “Something about having to find a new supplier, the drivers for Zonko’s are complaining about having to drive into the village.” Remus speaks through an exhale, the wind carrying the smoke along the street.

He flicks the fag to the ground and follows you inside, finding his place behind the till whilst you meander down the aisles, still content in having the conversation, “That’s ridiculous. It’s only fifteen minutes off the motor way.”

Remus makes a noise of agreement but doesn’t say anything else until you return to the till with a cherry lolly and a magazine. He looks at your purchases with an enhanced non-surprised glance, eyes flicking up to ask with a simple look if you could be any more predictable. You shrug, hand him a fiver, and he passes you your change.

“Think they’re just annoyed because the only road into the bloody place is always closed because that daft Mr. Filch keeps forgetting to shut his gate and the cows always escape.” Remus comments, closing the till.

You take up your usual space, to the left of the till, leg tucked under you, subconsciously kicking the specials stand with your free foot. The customers are never surprised to find you sitting here. Most of them often comment that you’re like the store’s very own cat. Always lurking, happy to sit, and watch the people go about their days. Really, you just like to annoy whoever is working. Unless it’s Effie or Monty. They usually put you to work if you hang around for too long.

“They should really just bolt that bloody fence shut. He’s always losing his cows.”

“He does it on purpose. I don’t know why, yet, but he does.” Remus theorises, his brows furrowed as though it’s some great mystery as to why old Argus Filch is always letting his cows run free, as though he has some ulterior motive.

Perhaps he does. You’ve never given it much thought.

“They should switch to Ollivander’s, anyway. I’ve been telling them for months that they’re better priced. Plus, they’re closer, the delivery charge wouldn’t be as much.” You say, eyes scanning the pages of your magazine.

The cherry lollypop rattles off your back teeth, something you know drives Remus insane. You don’t stop.

“They don’t stock Pettigrew’s butcher meat, though.” Remus counters.

Pettigrew’s Butchers is the most sought-after Butcher meat in the village, and Potter’s is the only place that stock it. It’s what drives in most of the customers, you’d argue. It’s good meat. You’ll give them that. It’s why Effie and Monty have been hesitant to drop Zonko’s as their distributor because they’ll lose their access to Pettigrew’s. Truly a conundrum in the eyes of the village. You flick to the next page, shrugging, “It’s only a forty-minute drive out of the village. Wouldn’t Pettigrew deliver it himself?”

“What, every morning?”

You sigh, long and suffering. This conversation is, truly, boring. You love Remus. You do. Really. But you miss Sirius. Or James. Remus seems off, today. He’s less humorous, less sarcastic. You won’t push. You know he doesn’t like that. But you shouldn’t have to suffer the world’s most boring conversation because of it. Perhaps that’s selfish of you.

“Zonko’s doesn’t even deliver to us, every morning. Just have Pettigrew's tie in with the days we get from Ollivander’s.” You suggest, though, you know there’s nothing Remus can do about it.

It’s a conversation best had with Monty or Effie. Even James. But they’re smart. They’ll likely figure it out on their own. You hop off the counter, pulling the lolly from your mouth as you go, “Either way, it’s going to be a shit few weeks if we don’t have a distributor. I need to go, meeting Sirius for a cuppa at the Leaky.”

You wince as soon as the words come out of your mouth, watching as Remus’ expression falls.

“Hope he chokes on his cuppa.” Remus mutters, though a saccharine smile comes across his lips.

You roll your eyes, pointer finger already aimed at him, “Behave!”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, though you know behaving is the last thing Remus Lupin will ever do when it comes to Sirius Black. It’s ridiculous.

“Give Monty my love.” You say in ways of a goodbye and Remus waves you off.

You pretend not to hear when he tells you to give Sirius the middle finger for him.

-----

“You’re a genius, you know.” Sirius says, sitting your drink down in front of you.

The pub is, strangely, quite quiet. There’s a family of four in the far corner, eating a meal in stoic silence – awkward – and a group of older women by the bar, a bottle of champagne in an ice cooler on the table and bubbling glasses in each of their hands. Of course, you and Sirius were the last to arrive, meeting the rest of your friends at the only large table the Three Broomstick’s own, which lead to him shooing you off to get a seat and buying your drink for you. You won’t complain. Your regular table is already a mess of empty pint glasses from James, Remus, and Frank, and two empty wine bottles from Lily, Mary, and Marlene. Alice is on nightshift at the police station, a lucky feat for everyone because it means there’ll be no tequila shots tonight. Fine by you.

It’s a long table that you all occupy, with two benches running along either side, and no matter how busy the pub is, people always seem to know not to sit there. None of you would mind if they did, really. But it’s just something people don’t do. Your group has been coming to the Three Broomsticks since you were seventeen (not that Rosmerta, the owner, knows that), minus Remus, who moved to town seven months ago, wandered in for a pint one night, and unfortunately for him, got stuck with you lot.

“Mm,” You hum, cheeks puffing out in your pleased smile, “I know. Do feel free to tell me why, though.”

Sirius guffaws, rolling his eyes at your theatrics – as though he isn’t the carbon copy of you, just in male form – “For the Ollivander’s idea. Well, tying it in with Pettigrew’s, at least.”

“What?”

You hadn’t told anyone about that idea. Anyone other than Remus, at least, who looks incredibly sheepish when your eyes flick to him further along the table, conveniently out of arms reach of Sirius. James, who swallows a gulp of his pint before he speaks, looks incredibly cheerful when he says, “Yeah! Dad loved that idea. He didn’t even consider asking Pettigrew’s for a private contract. He didn’t think they’d be up for driving into the village, but turns out the son, Peter, delivers to the next town over twice a week, anyway.”

“Right.” You nod, taking a sip of your drink to wash the awkward feeling that’s settled over you away.

Really, you hadn’t meant to form some type of master plan.

“Sorry.” Remus winces.

“Why’s he sorry?” Sirius is quick to question, ever the one to start an argument, “What’s he done now?”

Remus scoffs, “Funny you think I’ve done something.”

“Well, you were the one apologising.”

“He’s not done anything, Sirius. Give it a rest, both of you.”

That shuts them up.

“I told Monty about her idea after she left on Tuesday.” Remus admits, looking rather sheepish.

Sirius seems placated enough with his answer, so he shrugs and enters into a conversation with Frank and James, who lost interest the minute Remus and Sirius started bickering. You assure Remus that it’s okay, waving him off before nudging your head further down the table, inviting him into the conversation with Lily, Mary, and Marlene.

Lily is complaining about her job in the council office. She’s pretty high up, though, you couldn’t for the life of you tell someone what it is she actually does, had they asked. Something to do with the local MP. There’s a shit tonne of paperwork and multiple people who Lily thinks are, in her words, so far up their own arse, they forget they’re civil servants and not, in fact, the be all and end all of the world. Her job is highly stressful, as is obvious by the empty bottle of wine in front of her, even though it’s not long gone five o’clock. Lily Evans worked incredibly hard to be where she is, though, the fireball of a human that she is, and she’ll be damned to ever give up, now. You admire her, really. She grew up in the village, like all of you except Remus, noticing the prejudice it held, the unfair situations people lived in, the real issues the place held, rather than what every other member of the council saw as ‘issues’, and she went to University, got her degree, came right back, and got to fucking work. She hasn’t solved world hunger yet, but you’re sure she’s well on her way to it. If there’s anyone who can do it, it’ll be Lily Evans.

Mary and Marlene are listening intently, especially Mary, who’s been begging the council to fund the one primary school the village has, Hogwarts, more substantially than it has in previous years. She’s a teacher there, and she loves it with every bit of her being, but the school is incredibly underfunded, so she and Lily have been working on a campaign to bring it to the Council’s attention. They’re making progress. But not as quick as Mary would like. That much is obvious in the way she rants about Lucius Malfoy and his pretentious, pompous, personality. He is a bit of a prick, honestly. He’s the head of the school board committee for the village, and he’s the main reason the school hasn’t received the funding it’s needed in almost ten years. He’s a toad.

Marlene, even though she couldn’t give less of a shit if she tried, is listening, anyway. She’s a good friend, Marlene, but past her friends, her family, and music, there isn’t much Marlene McKinnon really gives a toss about. You commend her for it really, her no-fucks-given attitude towards the world, the way she’s so carefree, and lives her life how she wants, no matter what. She’s laid back and honestly, doing better than the rest of your friends in adulthood. She’s the only one out of the lot of you who hasn’t had a full-scale meltdown, so far, this year. Or ever actually. You don’t remember the last time you saw Marlene truly upset about something.

“Honestly, Mary, you’d think he’d give more of a shit about funding things like the school’s library, considering his wife’s due any day now and his kid will likely attend Hogwarts.” Lily seems truly frustrated, her shoulder slumped, her index finger circling the rim of her wine glass.

“He’ll probably send his little demon spawn to some posh boarding school, knowing him. More money than bloody sense.” Comes Mary’s equally frustrated response.

She necks the rest of her glass in one gulp, shivers, and then sends Marlene off to procure another bottle. She goes without complaint, so you assume it’s her round.

“Surely it’s not legal to withhold funding from a school in such dire need of it.” Remus comments, ever the pessimist.

He thinks the worst of everyone. Especially Mr. Filch and his disappearing cows. He thinks he has an ulterior motive and he’ll die on that hill.

“Apparently there is no funding. And he won’t even push for any, either. It’s like he doesn’t give a shit that the school under his jurisdiction is struggling, majorly.” Lily replies, rolling her bright green eyes at the mere idea of Lucius Malfoy.

“There’s something not right about that.” You add, frowning.

Surely, he’d want his school to thrive. Apparently not.

“You’re telling me.” Mary pipes up.

“Anyway, enough work talk,” Lily says around a gulp of wine, waving her hand like it’ll banish all of the negative vibes Lucius has caused by simply existing, “How’d your date go with the handsome paper boy, Rem?”

Remus grimaces, “Don’t call him a paper boy, it makes him sound twelve years old.”

The story goes: Remus thought that someone was trying to break into his house, last month. Upon inspecting the situation with a baseball bat that everyone knows for a fact Remus does not know how to use, he met a rather startled, rather handsome paper boy named Christopher. Of course, Remus only learned this after he tried to cave the poor bloke’s head in with said baseball bat, only to find out that it was Christopher’s first day on the job and he had delivered the paper to the wrong house. After copious amounts of apologies, Remus had claimed he was fine with never seeing Christopher again. Until he realised that the paper’s he was delivering came directly from Potter’s. A travesty, really. Sirius howled with laughter, much to Remus’ dismay, and Effie had slipped an extra fiver into Christopher’s wages in ways of an apology. Turns out, no apology was needed, because Christopher, for whatever reason, took a liking to Remus and asked him out for coffee.

“Okay, your date with Christopher, then.” Lily corrects with a smirk.

“Wasn’t a date,” Remus singsongs, because he’s insecure and adamant that no one could ever fancy him. Even though you’ve already promised him that if he wasn’t painfully gay, you’d shag him. Lily had then felt the need to add in that if she wasn’t painfully gay, as well, she’d shag him, too. Still, he lives in denial. Idiot.

“Was too.” Marlene says, rather bluntly, returning with the wine which she passes to Mary.

She’s brought a glass for you, too, bless her. You finish the dregs of the drink Sirius bought you and accept the glass of wine Mary passes you with a ‘thank you’.

“You don’t even know what we’re talking about.” Remus argues.

“Christopher. The hot paper boy whose skull you nearly caved in with a bat. Keep up, Remus.” Marlene winks at Remus, who simply huffs in defeat, taking a long swig of his pint.

“So?” Mary follows up, never one to let Remus catch a break. She’s almost as bad as Sirius, except she does it in a much more loving, much less spiteful way.

“It went well. We chatted about books.” Remus bobs his head, swallowing thickly.

Sirius is eyeing him from the other end of the table, lips twisted into a mean looking frown. It doesn’t last long before Frank is asking him something to do with motorbikes, and Remus is long forgotten. No one else catches it, so you ignore it.

“Books?” Marlene asks in disgust.

“You spoke about books.” Lily repeats, clearly trying to find some hidden meaning she’s not going to find. You know Remus well enough to know he likely did spend the entire date-that-wasn’t-a-date nattering on about books. He’s a bookworm at his core.

“Yes,” Remus confirms, slightly agitated, “We spoke about books.”

“Right,” Marlene sounds a little deflated, always one for the seedy stories, “Lovely.”

“It was, actually.”

“I’ll bet.”

Remus huffs a laugh and excuses himself under the premise of a cigarette. No one bats an eye, and you watch him leave. It takes Sirius approximately two minutes to excuse himself from his conversation with James and Frank and follow Remus straight out the door to the smoking area. James and Frank continue on, too engrossed to realise the shit show that’s likely to unfold any minute. Lily, Mary, and Marlene fall into a conversation about whatever show the three of them are watching and you stand up, walking around the table until you’re sitting next to James.

He smiles warmly when you sit down, shuffling a little so he can face both you, and Frank who’s across the table.

“Alright,” Frank greets, head tipping forwards.

“Hiya, Frank. How’s Alice?”

Alice is Frank’s wife. They grew up together but didn’t ever get together until they both attended Tulliallan when training to become police officers. They’re sickly in love, it’s actually kind of nauseating at times, but sweet, nonetheless. They’d been daft for each other since they were thirteen.

“She’s good. On nightshift, tonight.”

You hum, sympathising with her. Nightshift is no joke, especially in a village as quiet as yours.

“Uhm,” You turn to James, “Sirius and Remus are in the smoking area. Together. Alone.”

James sighs, takes a swig of his pint, and is up like a shot to stop whatever fight is likely happening in the Three Broomsticks beer garden. He squeezes your shoulder in thanks before he goes, offering you a smile he only ever seems to give you. You can’t read it. But it’s soft. Not the teasing smile he has when you’re flirting merciless with him, or him, you. It’s just. A nice smile. For you. You watch him go; head turned, the ghost of a smile on your own lips. He pushes open the wooden door and it swings shut behind him.

“How longs that been going on then?” Frank asks, nodding his head towards the door James just went through.

“Pretty much since they met, I suppose.”

Frank laughs, which causes you to frown, and then he shakes his head.

“No. You and Potter.”

“There’s nothing going on.” You say, though your face heats up all the same.

“I can keep a secret, you know.”

“Why does everyone think I’m shagging James?” You ask, rather loud for how empty the pub is.

Your face is flames when Lily, Mary, and Marlene fall silent and look over at you, biting back laughs and whatever comments it is that are sparkling behind their eyes. You groan, embarrassed, and turn to follow James out of the door. For a moment, you think he’s allowing a full-on fight between Sirius and Remus occur. He’s standing not far from the door, sheltered by the wooden terrace that leads out to the concrete of the smoking area. It’s dimly lit in comparison to the rest of the beer garden. You frown on approach, confused as to why he’s just standing there.

It takes all of two seconds for you to see what he’s seeing. Remus has Sirius crowded against the wall, caged in like some sort of animal, and he’s kissing him so violently, so aggressively, that they actually could be fighting. In some sick, twisted way.

“Holy shit.”

James’ eyes snap to yours, moving into action to pull you back inside before Sirius and Remus realise they’ve been foiled. His hand burns like fire against your arm, his eyes steely and sharp as he looks down at you, “You cannot tell anyone what you just saw.”

“You knew?”

James shakes his head, tongue darting out to lick his lips. He has you pushed up against the wall, much like Remus did Sirius, and your cheeks heat at the thought. Jesus, they’re more messed up than you thought.

“I suspected.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

“It’s not my place. Look, Sirius is – he’s complicated, okay? I don’t know if he even knows he’s – just don’t say anything, okay?” James is flustered, panicked.

You get it. Sirius has never mentioned being gay, so it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that perhaps, being gay isn’t something that was on Sirius’ radar until Remus popped up out of nowhere and sent his perception of himself tumbling. Okay. Fine. You get that. You can relate. Not entirely. The situation is different. James Potter is a boy you never paid any interest to, growing up. Not romantically, at least. Until he went away to Rugby camp one summer and came back looking like sin incarnate. Well, then you’d noticed, and everything you thought you knew about him came tumbling down. So, not exactly the same, but you get it.

“I won’t, James. I won’t say anything.”

“Not even to Sirius. Or Remus.” James looks panicked, like one wrong move in handling this situation will blow it up royally.

“Promise.”

James nods, seems to realise that he’s still got an iron grip on your arm, and drops it like you’d been the one scalding him. The door opens, washing you both with cool air, and Sirius storms back inside, halting when he sees the way James has you pushed up against the wall.

“You two shagging then?” He asks, a hint of annoyance in his tone you can only assume was brought about by whatever the fuck just happened between him and Remus.

“Jamie wishes,” You plaster a sickly-sweet smile on your face, “He couldn’t handle me.”

With that, you leave them to it, returning to the table and finishing your entire wine in one gulp. The girls are kind enough not to say anything, but Lily gives you a sympathetic glance and refills the glass for you. Frank laughs to himself, you flip him off.

Remus returns a moment later, dodging Sirius and James who are still huddled where you and James just were. He takes a seat, finishes his pint, and calls it a night without another word.

You don’t miss the way James has to grab onto Sirius’ wrist to stop him from following.

--

Ahhhh! The first chapter is out!

I sincerely hope ya'll enjoyed :) Let me know your thoughts.

[theres-a-body-here]

Would love a male reader being face fucked by the oni from dbd and then after he cums he pisses down the readers throat. You said nasty lol

The Oni x Male!reader

In the beginning, your relationship with The Oni was strained – to put it mildly.

To be blunt, you two were worse than Laurie and Michael.

Kazan would tunnel you during trials, making sure you were certainly dead before he could even fathom focusing on anything else.

And in return, you did everything in your power to deny him hooks. Flashlight saves, pallets, and plenty of For The People with Buckle Up.

However, as time went on, the dynamic shifted. What had once been hatred began to morph into something resembling rivalry, albeit still laced with animosity. Maybe it was because the both of you are stubborn, prideful, and anger-filled men who refused to give up easily.

Eventually, though neither of you could pinpoint exactly when or why, that simmering antagonism blossomed into an alluring attraction that neither party could ignore nor resist.

It wasn't uncommon for you to be seen sneaking off from the campfire to visit Kazan in his realm. At first it was just to tease him, but that evolved to sitting close to one another in silence.

Again, maybe it was because you two were so alike in temperament that the next jump was so large, because it rapidly switched from taking in each other's presence to full on casual sex. This is pretty impressive considering you can't speak Japanese and he can't speak English.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kazan stood above you, his towering figure casting a shadow upon you as you knelt on the old futon in his home. His erect blue member was right in your face as it twitched in anticipation.

Gently cupping your face in his hand, Kazan pressed the tip of his hardened member against your lips and traced them with it. You took a sniff smelling how hot and musky with sweat his cock was.

"さあ、小さな獲物よ...大きく開いてください。," he said, his voice thick with desire.

You felt your pants tighten at the sound of his voice, even though you didn't understand what he said. "I don't know what you said, but it's making me horny," you confessed, unable to resist pressing a tender kiss onto the slimy crown of his erection.

A low growl escaped from beneath Kazan's mask as he pushed the head of his penis between your eager lips, seeking entrance. You parted your lips to allow him to slip inside, taking the first few inches into your warm mouth.

"いい子..." he cooed softly as he reached down to pat your head affectionately.

Slowly yet surely, Kazan began to slide deeper into your welcoming mouth, the girth of his shaft stretching your throat until you found yourself gagging and choking on its sheer size.

Still, you continued to take him in, determined to not look like an inexperienced virgin

"そうか、お気に入りのものですね。," he murmured approvingly, seemingly pleased by your efforts. He continued to stroke your head lovingly, encouraging you to take even more of his length.

Eventually, Kazan extracted his pulsing cock from your bruised throat, leaving you breathless and craving more.

As he gazed down at you with an intensity that bordered on ferocity, he spoke once again in a low, tender voice, "あなたの顔をファックしてもいいですか？"

Despite not knowing Japanese, there was no mistaking the questioning inflection in his voice.

You decide to take a leap of faith and nod your head. "Yeah....sure," you coughed out as you tried to guess what you agreed to.

Your bold response brought a hint of amusement to Kazan's eyes, hidden behind his Oni mask. Ruffling your hair fondly, he readied himself once more, aligning his rigid cock with your swollen lips.

In one smooth motion, Kazan plunged his monstrous cock deep into your open mouth, feeling it glide effortlessly down your now looser throat.

Before you had time to think about the nature of Kazan's request, he seized hold of either side of your head, effectively pinning you in place. Then, with an animalistic growl, he commenced to roughly thrust his hips forward, driving his cock deep into your helpless throat.

Each brutal thrust left you gasping for air, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggled to keep pace with his unforgiving rhythm.

You wrapped your trembling fingers around Kazan's thick thighs, digging your nails into his skin.

The impact of his heavy balls against your chin grew increasingly violent. With each passing second, he sped up, turning your mouth into nothing more than a fleshlight.

Abruptly ceasing his relentless assault, Kazan held still, burying his cock deep inside your gasping throat. Silver pubes tickled your nostrils as you fought desperately for air. Through strained breaths, he whispered in a low tone ,"とても可愛い男の子 ."

Once more, Kazan resumed his violent pounding, forcing your head back so he could look directly into your glassy eyes. You felt his cock throb against your sore throat walls as it slid in and out of your mouth.

Rivulets of drool and precum trickled down your chin. Amused by your vacant expression, he let out a low chuckle.

Kazan tightened his grip on your skull, his fingers practically sinking into your flesh. Growling deep in his throat, he exclaimed, "すごく激しく射精するよ."

With a few final, powerful thrusts, Kazan drove himself deep inside your eager mouth, holding himself there as he began to release his load. Wave after wave of hot cum flooded your throat as his cock throbbed and twitched with every spurt

Determined to take every last drop, you swallowed as much cum as possible, but it proved too much for your struggling throat. Unable to contain it all, some of the excess semen leaked out of your nose, causing you to splutter and gag.

You manage to swallow most of it as Kazan pulls his cock out, becoming softer. You open your mouth, showing him. Kazan lets out an approving rumble from his chest as he holds your tongue between his pointer finger and thumb to inspect your mouth.

"良い子だよ。これはあなたのご褒美です," he says in a soft low voice.

Cupping your chin gently, he guided the tip of his now flaccid penis back into your mouth, then began to urinate.

Clamping your lips tightly around his member, you drank greedily as he continued to empty his bladder into your mouth. Every swallow sent warmth coursing down your esophagus.

As you drank, Kazan reached down to pat your head affectionately, taking pleasure in watching you consume every last drop of his urine.

Finally, he pulled out of your mouth before tucking his cock away. Sitting down behind you on the futon, he released a contented groan, his body relaxing from the recent exertion.

Pulling you closer, Kazan pressed his masked face against your exposed neck, inhaling deeply as he took in your scent. His calloused hands roamed across your distended stomach, feeling the contents of his seed and urine slosh beneath the surface.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Some Curtis love for you. ❤️

You know I will always take some Curtis love.

Warnings- FLUFFY FLUFF UNCLE CURTIS.

I'm A Girl Uncle Honey

"Okay Uncle Curtis, your birfday is same as mine." Sophia stated while she had Curtis sit on the edge of the couch, her makeup kit spread out on the coffee table.

Curtis gave a slight nod. "Yup, sure is Sophia Bear. Coming up in another month."

"So we gotta be pretty for the par-tay!" She announced while flipping open the pretty as a princess color kit, loaded with everykind of shade of eye shadow, blush and lipstick that a little kid could ever want. "I gotta practice your look now."

You watched from the other end of the couch, hiding your amusement with your nose in a book, but you peeked over the edge to see Curtis's reaction.

Now this man could give so many excuses to his niece, try to talk her out of painting his face. But he scooted closer while looking at the colors she had available and he pointed to a very vibrant blue. "This would make my eyes really look nice." In which she picked up her brush and dabbled it into the color, adding a generous amount of an almost neon blue.

"M'kay, close your eyes." Sophia said so seriously that Curtis followed her instructions right away.

Sophia concentrated so hard on applying the layers of makeup to Curtis, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth and her brows furrowed, much like his does when he was concentrating on something. After a while of them going back and forth about colors, she announced he was finished and set her brush down.

"How do I look?" Curtis asked, turning to face you. Your eyes were twinkling over the book as you studied him. You had to admit, Sophia did a pretty good job for being all of four years old.

"Very handsome Curtis, Sophia you did an excellent job." You praised, making the little girl beam proudly at her work. She swiftly turned to her makeup pallet, grasping the brush to give to her uncle.

"Okay, make me pretty Uncle Curtis." She informed him.

"Kid, you're already pretty without it." He took the brush and swipped it in the first color she was pointing too. "But let's see if I can do as good a job as you did on me."

It was much later, after Sophia was fast asleep in the guest bedroom for the night did you find Curtis washing off the makeup from his face. You leaned against the doorway watching him while he scrubed at the blush Sophia got half mixed in his beard. "You're pretty good with her, doing her makeup and everything."

"I'm a girl uncle Honey, I gotta be prepared for anything." He said lightheartedly as he continued scrubbing at his face. "You got any of those wipes to take this off though?"

[allzelemonz]

Wrong Color: Bruce Wayne X Clark Kent

Summertime Prompt: Day 5, "Doppelgangers/Evil Twins" Pairing Type: M/M Rating: E/Sex, violence, dead dove Warnings: Doppelgangers, rape/noncon, dead dove, painful sex, bloody sex, alien anatomy, anal sex, mention of character death, mention of necrophilia, mention of breeding, Background Relationships: Dick Grayson/Superboys, Jason Todd/Bizzaro, Tim Drake/Conner Kent, Damian Wayne/Jon Kent Summary: A peaceful night in Gotham is interrupted by imposters from another Earth. Each is strikingly similar to their Super counterparts, but everything is the wrong color. The Bats are attacked by evil and twisted versions of their partners with no mercy or remorse.

It’s a quiet night in Gotham for once. The patrols are handled by Stephanie, Cass, and Duke. Barbara is on coms from her couch, favoring it over the usual Oracle set up for lax patrols like this. Bruce is kind of relaxed for once. Alfred convinced him to get the boys together for a movie and aside from the occasional bickering, it’s going well. Jason’s fallen asleep, his head tilted back over the sofa and soft snores escaping him. Dick is stretched out over a couch, pillows and blankets cuddled to his chest like he’s little Robin again. Tim is clutching a cup of coffee with his legs kicked over the arm of his chair. Damian is laid out on a floor pallet as he shines a batarang and listens to the movie passively. And Bruce, he couldn't be more content. Maybe a night off to hang out with his kids every couple of weeks isn’t such a bad idea.

Then there’s something on his chest, that’s what he notices first. The heavy pressure like a brick hitting him square on. Then it’s the wind as it surrounds him and makes him shiver. In a blink, the den is gone and he’s face to face with Clark. They’re outside, it’s cold without a sweater, and Clark’s eyes aren’t blue.

“Clark?” Bruce says, breathy from being shoved and flown away. His hand reaches up to touch Clark’s face, but he’s stopped by a vice grip that would break his wrist if not for the watch on it taking most of the pressure. He winces. “Baby, what’s going on?”

Clark’s eyes flick over Bruce’s body and they are very much not right. Clark’s eyes are a perfect blue, a blue Bruce made sure to have his ties made in. Bruce knows his partner’s eyes like he knows the streets of Gotham or the compartments of his utility belt, these are not Clark’s eyes. They’re gray. Gray and harsh, wholly not a farm boy’s.

“Baby?” Clark mutters, smirking. “How did a subpar man like you get yourself into the bed of a Kryptonian?”

Bruce knows he has Kryptonite fixed under his watch. Dick called him paranoid for it, but when he started dating Clark he knew he didn’t want to take any chances. He trusts Clark, he loves Clark, but things happen. Things like this.

“Who are you?” Bruce asks evenly, his mind figuring a way to get the lead compartment open.

Clark clicks his tongue, his eyes now meeting Bruce’s. “Kal-El, of course. A much better version of your pathetic Clark.”

“What makes you better?”

The imposter has lines when he smiles where Clark would have dimples. “My planet lives.”

“You’re from another Earth.”

“Smart little thing, aren’t you?” He chuckles. “I can see why he finds you entertaining.”

“Father.”

The men look over to find a young man that looks quite like Jon, but Bruce knows it’s not. In the boy’s hand is Damina’s jacket collar, Damian on his knees and unconscious. For one, if Jon did ever hurt Damian he would be cradling him and holding back tears. And, again, the most obvious thing is the eyes. Jon, bright and happy all throughout his little years with dazzling blue eyes just like his fathers that would rival Ace’s pouting talents. This boy has those lifeless gray eyes.

“What?” Clark snaps, finally releasing Bruce’s wrist.

Bruce steps back, not reaching for the Kryptonite right away. It would be expected and he doesn’t have nearly enough to subdue two Kryptonians. He needs to wait for Jon to leave, take care of Clark, and slip away to the cave for his larger stash.

“We’ve found the information you requested.”

“Go on.” Clark crosses his arms and Bruce finds it much less endearing than when his Clark does it.

Jon tosses Damian to the ground and it makes Bruce wince, every inch of his instincts wanting to go to his son and make sure he’s okay. But he stays still, watching his opponents carefully and letting the Batman part of his brain work.

“Our counterparts seem to be in relationships with each member of this human family respectfully.” Jon gestured to the unconscious Damian. “I apparently with this pathetic child, Kon with scrawny one, B with the meathead, and you with… that.” He gestures vaguely to Bruce.

Clark tilts his head. “They have an additional, I saw.”

Jon rolls his eyes. “Apparently Richard Grayson still breathes here.”

“Interesting.” Clark smiles. “Why don’t you boys let out some steam? These inferiors must be able to handle our counterparts, so they should have no problem accommodating us.”

Jon smiles in a way that would make the Joker shiver and Bruce, for the first time, has a flicker of fear from the boy. “Thank you, father.”

Clark nods, waving him off. “Ah, and make sure to use Grayson. He was good on our Earth, I imagine he’s just as good here.”

With a sickly grin, Jon grips Damian’s collar and flies off. Bruce watches Clark carefully, waiting for the signs of beginning superspeed as he slowly unlocks the compartment in his watch. As Clark turns, Bruce holds up the Kryptonite.

“Oh, baby.” Clark mocks. “Wrong color.”

Bruce can hardly blink before Clark is on him. No, not just on him, Clark is in him. In a heartbeat, the imposter has Bruce on the ground with his clothes ripped from his body and his substantial Kryptonian dick shoved so deep into Bruce that it pulses against his heart. Of course Bruce has taken Clark fully before, he’s felt the massive length  stretched open his ass and reaching all the way to his throat. But Clark always prepares him, always makes sure Bruce has taken the durability medicine just in case, always fingers him open and kisses him a million times with adorably sweet words and those beautiful eyes. Having his entire digestive system fucked and fixed tightly around Clark’s dick has always been pleasurable, never like this.

He’s never hurt Bruce.

“I can see why he likes you.” The false Clark mutters in Bruce’s ear. “You take it like a good bitch.”

Bruce tries to think about the last time he heard Clark use that word. Never. Clark has never said that word as far as Bruce knows.

“I just want to make sure you know.” Clark mutters, his lips brushing against Bruce’s ear. “My boys are doing the same thing to your boys.”

Bruce winces, a growl ripping through his throat despite himself. Again, he knows it’s not new. He knows his boys are active with their respective partners, hell he just had the talk with Damian. But he also knows that the Kents are good kids, even Bizzaro is a gentle giant. He knows his boys are treated right. But with these Kents, Bruce wants to claw his way out of this and save them.

Clark starts to move then. His hips piston right away, fully splitting Bruce in half as he rocks in and out. “You know, Richard Grayson is dead on my Earth.” Clark grips Bruce’s hips and Bruce lets his head drop to the ground. “Do you want to know how he died?”

If Bruce was an idiot, he’d answer. But he knows better. He’s been taunted before, he knows that playing any additional part of this sick fantasy is the worst thing to do. Instead he just tries to focus on anything but the feeling of that hard steel dick plunging into his body and the blood it draws out.

“See…” Clark groans, changing his angle and successfully fucking up into Bruce’s throat. “My son thought he was pretty. And I thought he was pretty. It didn’t take much time until the whole family wanted to fuck that perfect ass of his. Poor little bird’s heart gave out.” He snickers. “We still fucked him of course.”

Bruce has never felt more rage than he has in this moment, but the mix of choking on the giant dick in his throat and his own blood takes all of his focus. His intestines are stretched out, his organs rearranged, normally a pleasant feeling with Clark and the medication to help, but right now Bruce didn’t even feel this much pain when Bane broke his back.

Clark’s lips press to his neck, his thrusts becoming shallow and fast. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure my seed stays in you for days, Bruce.” He licks a stripe up to his ear. “You know, on my Earth Kryptonians conquered everything. We fuck as we please and men like you get bitched early on. I could take you back, make you mine and make you give me a million kids.”

“Fuck… you…” Bruce chokes out, his heart starting to skip in an alarming way.

Clark chuckles in his ear. “Maybe if you get too loose, but just for a little break.”

Bruce squeezes his eyes shut, feeling his body starting to give out. He hopes the boys don’t feel this bad, maybe they die quicker, maybe they escaped. Then, in a split second, Bruce feels empty. He can breathe again and everything hurts so intensely. He can’t get his senses to work, his eyes are blurry and his ears pound so loudly it’s like he’s back in the Penguin’s overpopulated zoo.

“Bruce?” Clark, his mind supplies. Soft and worried and the cutest amount of south-midwest Kansas twang. Clark’s hands are gentle as he picks Bruce off the ground, cradling his body and kissing his head. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m so, so sorry.”

Bruce blinks his eyes open and steady enough to see that blue. That perfect blue looking down at him with tears everywhere. He wants to say something, but Clark’s name dies in his throat.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Clark soothes through his tears. “Zatanna’s coming, she’ll heal you, you’re gonna be okay.”

Bruce takes ragged breaths, a little smile coming onto his face. He knows Clark’s saying that to convince himself more than Bruce. He also knows that if anyone can fix this, it’s Zatanna. Anything is better than the Lazarus Pit.

Clark holds Bruce as he slips into sleep just before Zatanna arrives. With a teary-eyed but focused Clark, she heals Bruce first. Her incantations put halos over him and Clark almost sobs as he watches with his x-ray vision as Bruce’s intestines realign. Diana arrives purely to hold his hand, the only one he might not crush with his emotions like this. She tells him that the doppelgangers have been subdued and that other healers are working with Bruce’s boys. When Zatanna leaves the three of them just sit there for a while, Bruce asleep but healthy and Clark and Diana simply watching him.

“I almost lost him.” Clark mutters after a while, his hand brushing over Bruce’s hair. “I didn’t get here soon enough.”

“They caught us by surprise, ambushed the strongest first.” Diana says softly.

“Why him?” Clark sobs. “What makes them the strongest?”

Diana presses her lips into a line, remembering why Bruce is the one she would consider the most dangerous. “Bruce is Bruce.” She looks down at her friend. “Not only has he trained his children to be vigilant, he is one of the most prepared people I have ever seen. He could take the world if he had the motivation and time.”

Clark smiles softly. “I love him.”

“I know.” Diana says. “I love him too, you’re my dearest friends… I’ll ensure the men that attacked our family see justice.”

Clark sighs. “How… how could I ever be that man?”

“You’re not. That isn’t a man, it’s a monster.” Diana says firmly. She rests a hand over Clark’s on Bruce’s chest and dips her head to meet his eyes. “You should take him to his room. Check on the boys.”

Clark nods softly, his voice breaking. “Okay.”

Diana flies off to join the Green Lanterns who guard the doppelgangers and Clark, as gentle as he ever has been, carries Bruce into the manor. He passes Raven, still healing Dick as he lays sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood. Then Jason who is cuddled into Bizzaro’s chest like his life depends on staying there. Then Tim, passed out in his room down the hall with Conner pacing at his bedside. And finally Damian, held by Jon in the corner of the study where no one but Clark’s powered eyes could see.

Clark tries to put on a brave face for the trusted members of the League that fill the halls. Only the Kents and the inner council know what really happened, most have just been told it was just an attack. In Bruce’s room, Clark lays his partner down as carefully as he would a baby bat. When he stands, straightening his back and looking down at Bruce’s perfect face, he sobs again. He wants to make everything okay, he wants to go back and fix it. He has half a mind to find Barry and make him do just that, but he knows messing with time would only make things worse. So he settles for sitting beside Bruce’s bed and watching every last detail of his face as he sleeps.

[borathae]

"This is a little story about how Yoongi and Taehyung spend their days when the rest of the family isn't home."

Pairing: platonic Vampire!Taehyung x Vampire!Yoongi

Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff

Warnings: there are no warnings because this is nothing but sweet fluff and happiness, they go on a little ride with their horses, they're so important to me, hinted polyamory

Wordcount: 2.8k

a/n: i love them i love them i love them 😭 my two babies :( the header is ruining me btw, they're so pretty fandsfna

Yoongi is listening to music. It plays on his speaker and fills the room with its melodies. He already made a lot of progress with your witch office today. 

You, Jungkook and Hoseok are currently visiting Emma and Seokjin in Gordes for around two weeks, which meant that Yoongi finally had time to prepare his surprise for you. There is no reason for it, nor a special occasion, it is as simple as that Yoongi loves to make you happy. There is no better feeling in the world than knowing that he could make you happy. And because your witch business has been going so well lately, Yoongi decided that it is only fitting to surprise you with your very own witch office. Until recently, you made your potions in the main kitchen which often ended in stuff getting into your food and turning it inedible. Yoongi hopes that by surprising you with your very own kitchen, he can make it a lot easier for you. He can’t wait to get your reaction. He already started dreaming of it and feeling really giddy once he wakes up.

The room he chose for the surprise has been unused for decades. Yoongi already forgot its original purpose, but he liked that you had a window to look out of and beams to hang your flowers from. The floors were rotted and the wallpaper peeled off from age. Yoongi spent the first two days ripping everything out and then spent another five days replacing the floors and wallpaper. He went for a dark shade of your favourite colour and added wood panelling to bring it together. He also fixed the fireplace, making it so you could actually use it, and rewired the electricity so you wouldn’t die as you turned on a lamp. 

It is day eight today and Yoongi is currently busy with getting the kitchen working again, kneeling on the new floors, when a familiar scent hints his nose. 

He pokes his head out from under the sink, meeting Taehyung’s eyes. The latter seems to be back from a ride. Horse follows him with his normal scent and he is still dressed in old-fashioned riding clothes.

“You have made impressive progress”, Taehyung says, looking around the room, “I love the colours.”

“Thanks.”

Yoongi sticks his head back under the sink. 

Taehyung rounds the kitchen counter and sits down next to Yoongi. He pokes his arm, making Yoongi move his head again.

“What?”

“You are very cool, hyung.” 

“Thanks”, he says and looks back at the sink. He is almost done. 

“Do you want to come with me for another ride later? The weather is lovely today.”

“I don’t know yet. I still gotta rewire the stove.”

“I can help you with that.”

“No offense, but if you helped you’d kill her accidentally.”

Taehyung nudges Yoongi’s arm, “you are mean.”

“Sorry Tae. You can help me with the cabinets though. I’m sure you can paint them prettier than this.”

“Yes, indeed I can”, Taehyung giggles excitedly, “oh hyung, this makes me very happy. I shall change clothing and begin painting right away”, he says and stumbles to his feet, “will we go on a ride later?”

“Fine. I’ll ride with you.” 

One can call them old-fashioned or stuck in time, but the two vampires put great care into what clothing they wear for riding. Their petticoats and shirts are tailored, their vests hug their figures and their pants are perfectly ironed. They also make sure that their boots are polished and their leather gloves fitted. And while Taehyung goes for a colour pallet of whites and blues, Yoongi is dressed entirely in black. 

“Where shall we ride?” Taehyung asks, sitting proudly on his horse. 

“Where did you go?” Yoongi asks, sitting just as proudly. 

They pass their stable workers, greeting them with a nod of their heads. 

“I went west to the forests.” 

“Mhm. Wanna go east? For a change?”

There are hills waiting east. The grasses are tall and from the highest point, one has view of the town. 

“Yes, we could do that”, Taehyung says and gives his horse a gentle kick to increase its tempo. 

Yoongi follows next to Taehyung, looking left and right in case enemies showed up. It is a lingering habit from a more dangerous life. One he can’t seem to shake even now in times of peace. 

The two vampires put some distance between the stables and them, when Taehyung breaks the silence with a deep sigh.

Yoongi looks at him and the smile he sports.

“Isn’t the weather wonderful?”

“Mhm, it’s not bad.”

“Indeed it is nice. I think we made a lot of progress with the room today.”

“Yeah, I think so too. I can start with furnishing tomorrow.”

“Oh truly? I shall hurry up with painting then.”

“Mhm  I can help.” 

“That is very lovely of you, but truly I can manage.”

“Mhm. Okay.”

Taehyung looks at Yoongi, giving him a smile. One Yoongi retorts shyly.

“I think it is so romantic of you to surprise her. She is very lucky to have you.”

“No”, Yoongi shakes his head, “I’m lucky to have her. She makes me happy, so I wanna make her happier.”

“Well that is wonderful to hear. I can see that you make her very happy, hyung.” 

Yoongi flusters, rubbing his neck nervously.

“I try”, he murmurs, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. 

It isn’t long and the two vampires reach the top of the hill. They stay seated on their horses, looking at the town not far from here. The sun is hiding behind clouds today, which makes being outside comfortable with the two light-sensitive vampires. Despite the hiding sun, the day was still bright and the view of the town clear.

“This will never lose its beauty”, Taehyung says.

“Mhm, yeah”, Yoongi agrees.

Taehyung inhales the fresh air and sighs happily.

“May I help in decorating her office? I have ideas which she could really enjoy.”

“Yeah, you’re better at it anyways.”

“Thank you. I really enjoy interior design.”

“I know. You like it”, Yoongi says, unknowingly filling Taehyung’s heart with warmth. He knows him so well. 

Taehyung turns his horse so he was looking at Yoongi. He grins. Yoongi studies it.

“What?”

“What say you to a race, hyung?” 

“A race?”

“Yes, we shall race back to the stables and the winner gets one wish granted by the other person.”

“Alright, if you want to”, Yoongi says and turns his horse. He rolls his shoulders, tightening his grip on the reins, “I’m not easily beat though.”

“Neither am I”, Taehyung says and gets into position, “we will start after the count of-”

“Hya!” Yoongi doesn’t let him finish as he commands his horse into a fast gallop.

“Yoongi! You cheat!” Taehyung screams after him and tells his horse to run, “I wasn’t finished explaining the rules!”

“There are no rules! You’re just slow!” Yoongi calls back and runs faster. 

Taehyung furrows his brows. He is overtaken with playful competitiveness, speeding up with tears gathering in his eyes from the wind. He laughs as he does, feeling incredibly light in his heart.

“You are a total cheat, hyung!”

He passes Yoongi very soon, laughing and cheering loudly because the stables were too close to allow Yoongi to catch up.

“Yah, you brat!” Yoongi laughs, trying to catch up but it is too late. Taehyung races past the stables, slowing down his horse in front of them.

“I won!” he cheers, throwing his hands in the air in celebration.

Yoongi doesn’t slow down. Yoongi gallops past him.

“The last to get to the forests loses!” he calls out. 

“You are playing unfair games!” Taehyung complains and rides off. 

Yoongi has already put significant distance between them and he needs to catch up. 

“You are so unfair, hyung!” Taehyung laughs, meeting laughter as Yoongi’s answer.

It has been decades since the two vampires raced each other. It was the beginning of the 1850s and Namjoon hadn’t shown himself in almost seven years. Life at the estate was quiet. Yoongi hid in his wing for most of the time, while Jimin and Taehyung tried to learn how to function normally. One day, Yoongi took them out for a ride and he raced them until the horses were happily tired and the two recovering vampires had forgotten all about the past decades with Namjoon. At this time, Yoongi didn’t really know about what Namjoon put them through, let alone that he still regularly finds them to inflict more pain, so asking them for a race was merely out of his own desire. 

Back then, the vampires didn’t show that they enjoyed it. No laughter was shared, the conversations were dry and their faces stoic. Their emotionless hearts didn’t really feel the need to show that they enjoyed the time with each other. But one must know that if emotionless vampires spend time together even without their emotions, it was a very obvious sign that they enjoyed each other’s company.

Today it was obvious that they liked the time spend together. Today, Taehyung feels vast of air when he sees the utter happiness on Yoongi’s features as the older vampire looks over his shoulder. His black hair is tousled from the wind, his pale cheeks are flushed pink and his dark brown eyes are crinkled in laughter. They are spilling tears as well because of the wind.

“You’re slow”, he teases and looks back to the front. 

In this moment, Taehyung doesn’t even care that he is slow and that he will most definitely lose. He saw Yoongi’s honest smile and can still hear him laugh like an excited boy at the candy shop. He sounds unlike the Yoongi he knows and yet he never sounded more like himself. 

“You are such a cheater, hyung! I would have won”, Taehyung calls out and squeaks in laughter. Riding a horse has never felt more freeing before. 

Yoongi wins as expected, celebrating his win by jumping off his horse and doing a little dance. 

Taehyung joins him soon, placing his horse next to Yoongi’s and jumping off. 

He runs to Yoongi and connects his palm with Yoongi’s arm. Yoongi stumbles back, teasing him by humming a victorious melody.

“You cheater. I won back at the stables”, Taehyung whines.

“Yeah and then I won right now”, Yoongi teases and does a little butt wiggle, “I won, I won, I won.”

Taehyung should be mad at him for cheating. He should whine about it more, but he can’t find it in himself to do so. 

Yoongi looks so happy. So carefree. And it doesn’t feel awkward between them. 

Taehyung feels overwhelmed in happiness. He closes the distance between them and takes Yoongi into a hug.

“Tae, come on”, Yoongi tenses up instantly. His butt wiggles stop, but a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest lets Taehyung know that he is still feeling good.

“My wish is to give you a hug”, Taehyung murmurs and nuzzles his face into the crook of Yoongi’s neck.

“Yeah? My wish is to not get hugged. Tae come on, you know how this makes me feel”, Yoongi complains and tries to push at Taehyung’s chest. 

“But I love you, hyung. Do you not love me?” 

“Course I do. Just”, Yoongi wiggles, “let go of me.”

Taehyung releases him from his hug. Yoongi fixes his coat and meets his eyes.

“Yah, come here you rascal”, he says and attacks Taehyung with a gentle head lock.

“Hey. Ah! Release me”, Taehyung squeaks in laughter, fighting him gently. 

Taehyung can’t remember if he ever play fought with Yoongi. He is quite sure that he didn’t. He watched Jungkook and Seokjin play fight each other on many occasions. He also knows that when Jimin feels playful he likes to pretend to practice boxing on his arm. And Jungkook regularly has his moments where he playfully slaps people’s butts. But he never had a playfight with Yoongi. This is new and it’s making him squeak in laughter while Yoongi laughs just a squeakily. 

The play fight ends with Taehyung attacking Yoongi with a hug and the Creator whining loudly. 

“I won”, Taehyung says, releasing him.

“I let you win”, Yoongi says and drops onto the ground. He stretches out his legs, resting back against a tree, “I’m stronger than you.”

“Yes you are”, Taehyung says and sits down next to Yoongi, “does this mean that I have another wish free?”

Yoongi chuckles, “I never agreed on that.”

“I think I have another wish free.”

“You’re a brat”, Yoongi says fondly.

“Mhm indeed”, Taehyung relaxes with a smile, “I shall voice my wish later.”

“Fine. If you want to.”

The two vampires can look out at the endless grounds this way. The meadows, the forests, the lakes and the various flower gardens. They see the estate in the distance and the hills even further away. 

“You seem carefree today”, Taehyung says.

“I feel carefree. I don’t gotta worry about life fucking me up again.”

“Yes, I agree it is rather healing to think that we live in peace these days.”

“I still don’t think it’s real. Sometimes I wonder if I’m still stuck in Namjoon’s curse and all the good things happening lately are just my brain making up stuff to escape the pain.”

Taehyung reaches over and pinches Yoongi’s upper inner arm.

“Ah”, he flinches away, touching the spot instantly, “what the fuck? That hurt. Why did you do that?”

“Now you know that this is real.”

“I just said that sometimes I wonder, not that I actually think it isn’t real.”

“No, I understood you, but we had to make sure.”

Yoongi snorts in amusement, clicking his tongue.

“Brat.”

Taehyung chuckles, relaxing happily. He follows a breeze of wind as it dances through the grasses and trees. 

“I think about these possibilities as well”, he confesses after some time of tranquility passed.

“You do?”

He nods his head, “I do. I sometimes wonder if my current perfect life is just another cruel mind trick of Namjoon. There were many occasions where he made me see wonderful things only to pull me back to torture again when the fantasy felt the most healing. The pain he inflicted afterwards always felt especially unbearable”, he says and touches his own hands as if to wipe the memory from his nerves, “I am scared that sometimes all of this isn’t real and that one day, I will have to return to being tortured again.”

Yoongi reaches out for his hand and closes his fingers around it. The shakes, which had started to gradually overtake Taehyung’s hands, stop. Taehyung looks at their hands then into Yoongi’s reassuring eyes 

“It’s real. You know?” Yoongi says softly.

Taehyung takes a shaky breath. He nods his head. 

“I know”, he whispers and allows a small smile to brighten his features.

Yoongi retorts it and looks back at the endless meadows. He slips his hand from Taehyung’s to play with his own thumbs instead. Taehyung traces his own knuckles. Moments before, Yoongi’s thumb grazed them mindlessly. Taehyung still feels the touch. He blinks the emotion from his eyes and looks at the swaying grasses. Their horses are close by, getting their afternoon snacking in. Taehyung’s horse was brown in colour and was dressed in dark blue gear, while Yoongi’s horse had fur blacker than the darkest night and wore black leather gear. It fit the two vampires. 

“I like that you open up to me these days”, Yoongi says into the silence.

Taehyung shifts his eyes from their horses to study Yoongi’s side profile instead. His older friend’s lips were perfectly pouted and his nose perfectly sloped, so that he had a doll-like elegancy to him. Taehyung thought him beautiful as artists thought nature beautiful and photographer light. 

“I only feel comfortable doing so because you made it safe to talk to you”, Taehyung answers him, “yes, I am aware that I wasn’t a safe space for you either, but I am grateful that you decided to become one for me and Jimin. I hope we can be safe spaces for you as well.”

“Mhm, yeah”, Yoongi doesn’t say more, but Taehyung didn’t need more. Just from those two words, he knew that Yoongi was honest. He smiles.

“Look at us, hyung”, he says, nudging Yoongi’s upper arm softly.

“Mhm, look at us.”

“I really like you, hyung. You know?” 

“I know, Tae. Me too”, Yoongi says as his eyes still follow the wind in the meadows. A sense of serenity surrounded him. The kind of serenity which hasn’t followed him for long yet, but Taehyung knew it will only grow from now on. He felt tranquil as well.

“We are truly at peace, aren’t we?” he says as he stretches out his legs. 

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t wanna jinx it.” 

“You won’t. The world is at peace and life is good”, Taehyung nudges Yoongi’s arm again, “you truly kept your promise to her. You made the world a safer place.” 

Yoongi smiles, “yeah, I guess I did.”

The two vampires will sit under the trees until the wind carried the first smell of evening with it. It will be a time well spent with conversation which naturally morphed into them working on music together.

[aeviiteernal]

Omg can you do a Myers (or maybe even Demogorgon if you write for him lol) with a Surviver who is basically IMPOSSIBLE to catch? Like their looping skills are insane and if he ends up getting them he cant feel good abt it bc all gens have been done in that done or everyone escaped😭

i love looping the killer for 5 gens <3 also sorry for not posting for a bit, been focused on my personal life and trying to hit a higher killer rank for the reset. but, i am still here AND alive !

Michael Myers

When Michael saw you in his trial, he knew it was going to be a tough one. After all, word from the other killers (and some matches himself) always groaned and complained how you could run them until everything was done.

He wanted to be the first one to finally kill you.

Thankfully for him, where the Entity had sent everyone was Midwich. Granted he brought the offering and was running scratch mirror but we won't talk about it..

Deciding to go into the trial with a plan: he wanted to lure you out through your teammates and pursue you immediately.

After downing half your team, Michael waits patiently for you to slip out and make your appearance...

To be expected, you finally made your grand appearance and Michael made his first move towards you.

You were trying to quickly patch up Nea, knowing for a fact it was a stealth killer as you heard no terror radius. That only solidified when a knife swept your back, making a deep cut. A yelp scream from your lips, forcing you to stop healing and start your chase.

With you injured, Michael thought he could easily down. Well... He was wrong.

You took him everywhere you could, going to different loops, winning his mind games--even him falling for yours--you tried your damn best to keep him distracted as the others did gens.

One, two, three... Michael lost track as his bloodlust intensified, only wanting to catch you. At this rate he would be incapable of salvaging this trial if he left now. So his only goal was to get you.

You made a mistake, a fatal one which pretty much landed you directly in his arms as he ripped you off the pallet.

For as silent as he can be, you could hear a frustrated exhale come from his mask as he went to throw you on a hook.

At least you know you wasted his time and made him resent you...

The Demogorgon

My sweet, sweet, demo...

An apex creature, causing quite a bit of trouble amongst survivors with its ability to track down anyone injured.

Of course, nothing that you couldn't handle.

Your team had a rather rough start, you were on Coal Tower and some of your team had been hooked which left you to be the only one that was never hooked once.

Neither was any gens done, so it was an anonymous agreement to have you distract the beast.

Not that you can complain, it was preferred you take chase anyways.

You walked through the blue realm, searching to find it. Thankfully it didn't take long as you stepped into direction line of sight of it.

And so the chase begins, not wanting to let your team down and to at least give them some hope.

Running around, you narrowly dodge its shreds, baiting them out by faking a vault and letting it smack against it.

Even if you got hit during chase, it never deterred you. You wanted to run for a million dollars.

As gens popped, the more the chase got intense. You were getting tired, and you know the Demogorgon was just as frustrated and tired. How could a human like you give it so much trouble?!

Eventually you were smacked to the ground and took to a hook. As soon as you were placed on it, the sound of the exit gates powering alerted the killer.

Although you may not be able to tell, you certainly did demotivate the demon as it ran off to go and get the rest of your team and try to get a second kill.

[pommyommyomni]

HHHHHH hi Yommy

Yommy Yoshi

Gwi-Yommy ((from the Korean word I learnt when I was 8 , "gwiyomi" which literally translates to "act cute"))

ANYWAYS

THANK YOU SO SO SOOOO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING THAT YOU HAVE SAID ON YOUR LATEST ASK , AND YES !!!! BY ALL MEANS , DAS ME FR 🫵🫵

((She is my main Sona , Aru !!!! She is a Satyr))

And babessss please , by all means again , go ahead and draw and colour me however you'd like !! Aru never had any official theme colours yet , but her robe is dark blue with a white hoodie underneath haha

((This is the only doodle I have of Aru by the way))

Hi Moonie baby !!! Sorry that it took so long for me to answer this ask sweetheart, I've been on an accidental hiatus (life got busy), oops :p I missed you lots !! I hope you're doing ok since I've been gone, love <3

that's so neat, the meaning behind Yommy! You're such an angel coming up with a nickname for me that translates to that, it warms my heart. I'm honored to have you think a nickname as cute as that suits me, love <3

Gosh I love Aru so, so much! Thank you for the art of your sona babes <3! I've been brainrotting about it since you sent the ask gah,,, the doodles you sent with the ask are also ABSOLUTELY adorable, I love how blushy she is/you are, little doeling <3

anyways, here's the colored version !! I hope you like it angel <33

I color-picked a pallete from your profile picture, I hope that's ok! (here's the pallete)

I also doodled a little bit, and i figured I should share those as well lol.

I decided I needed to make a little guy for me, so that she can interact with your little guy :) they just look like my roblox avatar tbh BUT I was excited to give Aru a friend !!

I also had like a thought while I was drawing and I had to draw it out or I'd explode. Most people are taller than I am, and I figured that would probably true about you and me too hon! so I drew us meeting except I'm short about it I guess??

This one is a WIP, I think! I 'd like to finish painting it for you, fawn—I've been having so much fun painting digitally and I'm very excited that I got to do it for Aru/you !! :)

That's all, I think! Thank you for being patient and waiting for me to reply, dear—it means a lot <3!! Sorry that this reply is so long oops ;p

I hope you're having a lovely day, my darling !! Stay safe and take care of yourself for me, ok? Drink water and eat if you're hungry, honey; and take your meds if you have any! And also don't die on me please, <33

[zr-art-world]

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE HELP MMMEEEEEEE DX

I've been playing with these twos designs since forever, but I can never be sure if their actually good, like, objectively.

Can people look at these and tell me what I might need to remove/improve/add

Some character info

I'll try to make this concise as possible

For one, this takes place in a superhero scifi setting.

Psi

With Psi, I was going with android with insect motif, in particularly, butterfly and moth.

He was a human who's psyche was put into a techno organic robot body because he was on the verge of dyeing.

He grew up in a privileged setting but was mainly raised by robots made by his family.

He used to be always sick as a kid

He is a child prodigy that has a hard time with people because of his up brining.

Before being put into a robot body, he worked as a scientist (robotics specifically, however, he heavily dabbled in other fields as well)

He put himself in the robot body after a group tried to kill him and steal his technology and use it for their own gain

He feels like his intelligence is his one good defining trait, something that he relies on and something he thinks is the only thing he can offer to help people

Because of his upbringing, he is naturally curious about almost everything, despite him probably already knowing about it from his research.

After having his psyche put into an android body, he left his previous position to proses his thought and feelings and he also felt like he could do more good with his new body and intellect

Aster

Aster and their younger siblings were orphaned kids and were captured by Venlarians (a faction of bad guys in my story baseikly) and were trained and brain washed to be assassins and soldiers. (Aster became a well known assassin and sniper)

They were also experimented on a given powers (Aster specifically has minor mater manipulation abilities and can heal really fast and from major injuries. They can also teleport and harden their skin)

At the age of 18-19, they escaped but were separated from their siblings

They are adopted by another character, Mar (Who was the adopted son of the bbeg and emperor of the venularian empire before killing him)

After living with him and Mar trying to give them a normal child hood and saying that he and his colleagues will find them. (After defecting from Venularian empire, he joined the coalition of heroes which is like the justice league to put it in short terms), Aster wants to go out and find their siblings.

They also want to help others because they want to repent for what they were made to to while being controlled by the empire and so no one has to suffer under the empire.

Once their old enough, they take a space craft to explore the galaxy and to find their siblings and to help people.

They love exploring different planets and parts of the galaxy

She often hides her true feelings under a happy go lucky veneer, not wanting to scare people and not wanting her loved ones to worry about her.

Because of her powers and background, she doesn't have a lot of worry about her well being, often saving her friends and people in need at the expense of her well being because "I'll just heal right up! Don't worry, I can take it"

Aster originally had some avian aspects and I want to add those features again.

some other aspects for these two, they were slightly inspired by Psych and Eros

Idk if I want to make psi a different color other than blue, make his color pallet black and white like before or what.

sry for all the text, I always feel weird when talking about my oc's for some reason but I felt like the context was needed for me to get help with their designs