#Thought about trying to Color the rest and it was Too Much of a Daunting Task

[kiwipineappleparasol]

Happy 10th Anniversary to this uh.... Interactive Cutscene! I have been Struggling Lately so I decided to just color a Bit of an Old Scribble from Last Year (seen here)

[slippery-minghus]

i want to paint, but autism is hungry and needs to be fed 8hrs of skyrim a day

[spctrsgf]

mi luz

based off of this comment i wrote on tiktok: “he looks like he could use a hug and a shoulder to cry on.”

word count: 2.2k

warnings: nonspidey!reader, language, hurt to comfort fic (miguel needs a break. like a sabbatical or something)

a/n: ngl, i'm not too happy with how this turned out, probably because i wrote it all on a plane and it's not beta read, but i need more soft miguel fics in my life!!!

He’s tired.

He’s tired and he’s missing you. The boring, monotonous walls of his office harshly remind him of his place, the jubilant orange glow of his monitors tell him of just how much more work he’s got left before he can finally retire to your world.

Lyla, lounging atop one of his screens, watches him and his glossed over eyes, knowing exactly what the lazy flick of his fingers meant. She sighs, glitching over to bring one of his screens forward. “Miguel!” She yells, scaring the poor man out of his thoughts and momentarily extending his claws. “Lyla, what the fu- what the hell?” He growls, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“No kids are here, you don’t have to keep it PG.”

“Whatever.”

“Look, you got work to do, and if you don’t finish it soon, it'll be too late to get in some quality time with this lovely human,” she shoves the digitized photo of you up and into his face. “Before your next mission.”

He sighs, knowing she was right.

“Daydreaming about it isn’t gonna get you there any quicker,” she flickers to be right in front of his face, slapping a hand onto his nose as if she could actually touch him. “GET YOUR SHIT DONE.”

“Fine, fine! Get out of my face.” He grumbles the second sentence, swatting her away and strolling back up to his screens. His eyes catch on your photo, and he reaches to enlarge it in front of him, but—

“No,” Lyla dissipates the photo before he can even get to it, face twisted in disappointment. “No. Not until you finish working.”

“Hey! Who’s the boss here?” 

“Me. Now work.” Lyla glitches out of view with a triumphant huff.

He huffs dramatically, pouting as he pulls himself together. He lets his emotions drop from his face and slides into his stoic mask, resuming the work on his screen. It’s hypnotizing as soon as he gets into it; Lyla must’ve done something to keep him focused, he supposes. She always does have a trick up her sleeve.

In what feels like no time at all, he’s done with his work. With a final, defiant tap to close down his screens, he spins on his heel, ready to leave and go home. Ready to hop in through your window— as much as you hate when he does that— and rest his head atop yours, caging you into where you’re surely stirring something on the stove.

But as he turns, he’s face to face with none other than Hobart Brown. A look to the left reveals his partners in crime; and Miguel knows he’s in for a ride. At least a ten minute detour, as it always is with the four of them. 

“What?” His hands come to rest on his hips naturally, trying to become bigger to them as if it would make the next words out of their mouth more blunt and less angering. “We have a slight problem—” Gwen starts, before Pav butts in.

“It's not slight. It’s a pretty big deal!”

“Mate,” Hobie huffs. “That’s not helpful.”

“I’m trying my best!”

"Yeah, and that's going great-"

“Okay, stop it, all of you,” Miguel interrupts before they can go down the rabbit hole, trying to keep his already strung thin patience steady. “What’s going on?”

“There’s another fight going on.” Hobie gives the answer blunt, to Miguel’s satisfaction.

“Cafeteria?”

“Main hall. Sector D.”

The huff that erupts from his lips draws a colorful picture of his current emotions as he hops off of his elevated platform. “I’ll fix it.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Miles brings himself to stand in front of the man. “We’re not gonna hurt anyone, right?”

“I can’t make any promises.” He brushes past the kid, dismissing him with a shake of the head. 

“Miguel. Don’t take your anger out on them–” Gwen tries, but all it gets is his recoil and daunting stalk towards her.

“I will do whatever the–” the swear word is on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down. “I will do whatever is needed, but violence is not my first course of action.”

“Please be nice to everyone,” Pav says, peeking over Gwen’s shoulder. “It’s been a long week for all of us too.”

Miguel sighs and brushes past them, saying nothing. He brushes off their words in silent agreement. He didn’t really want to hurt anyone either. 

By the time he reaches where he'd been informed the fight was, there was a mosh pit encircling the brawl, a mass of blue and red and spidermen. He approaches from behind, the tide parting for him as each person registers his presence.

When he meets the pearl in the oyster, the hotheaded spiderman hasn’t noticed him quite yet. He’s got the other spidey— one of the many spiderwomen— beneath him, gnarly fist raised to land another punch. Miguel sighs, grabs the back of the man’s elbow, and dragssss him off.

“Everyone get away now.” His tone squeezes the air out of the room and leaves no room for discussion, not that anyone would dare to object. The spidermen flee the scene before he can even finish his sentence, and by the time he’s turned back to the perpetrators of it all, they’re gone too.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, murmuring a low cálmate under his breath as he moves to regain his bearings. “Lyla,” he waves the said woman near.  “Find those spidermen and remind me to get to them when I come back.” She sputters to focus in front of him, dipping her head in an obliged nod before sputtering off again to wherever she found herself needed. 

Miguel shakes and unclenches the fist he’s made with his free hand and stalks back to his office, rubbing the palm of his hand where his claws had taken purchase amidst anger. 

Sometimes, he regrets putting himself in charge of all of this… shit.

But… he’s the only one who can do it. No one had the vigor, the dedication, the understanding of why and what had to be done to keep the multiverses in line and make sure what happened to him never happened again. 

It’s tiring. It takes his nights and his days and chips at his brain until he’s sure there’s nothing left in the expanse of his head. For someone who appears naturally angry, he’s quite good at keeping all the real anger in.

The downside of this: he bottles it all up. But the bottle isn’t big enough, doesn’t last forever, cracks at the seams, and then shatters in a explosion of tears. It enjoys crumpling him into the floor, loves the way his hands shiver in the cold breeze, shakes him to the core and, for all his confidence, makes him doubt.

Lyla’s only seen him like this once, when he couldn’t get away and instead had to sequester himself into his office, not quite getting to hardwiring her nosy personnel to do something else. 

No, he doesn’t rely on her, as he normally would with other problems. He doesn’t trust her, he doesn’t even trust himself with post breakdown Miguel, no. 

He goes to you.

You. The lovely, kind person he’s had the great privilege of calling his. His love, his support, his everything, or better yet; mi luz. My light. The light at the end of the tunnel, at the end of the world, when he feels like the walls are caving in and there’s really nowhere else to go and nothing more to lose.

You calm him, like you always do. Effortlessly caring, eternally so. Never afraid to give, to let him take and take until he’s stuffed whole. You know little things about him, take the time to learn them. Like where to get his favorite empanadas— much better than the ones in the spidey cafeteria— and that he loves when you press your fingers into his shoulder blades. He loves your massages.

He loves you.

Tapping insistently at the shitty gadget on his wrist, he mindlessly pulls up the coordinates for your dimension. Second nature. He’s walked himself into some obscure corner of the building, but he isn’t processing such mundane things at the moment. He can feel himself slipping, the mask fracturing. He can’t be left alone right now.

You.

The portal is up now, flashing and glitching in an assortment of colors, beckoning him in with its delectable light, like a halo. Miguel wastes no time giving in, diving into the portal and tucking himself tight like a torpedo.

Multiverses zoom by as he glides through hexagons and hexagons, thousands of people in each. Worlds that he keeps steady, safe, perfect. Normally, he’d stop to smell the flowers, observe and appreciate the sereneness of every special home in front of him. Pride himself in the fact that there was a special home for someone to come home to. 

But not this time. No, this time he keeps his eyes screwed shut, he wouldn’t, couldn’t get distracted by the novelty. The bottle is cracking now, cracking into long and sharp spikes aching to slice across his chest. He’s so close, all he could get himself to do was focus on his breaths. In and out, in and out, in and out—

The abrupt warning of your multiverse approaching pinches his wrist, reminding him that this whole mess was very much real. He stumbles into your living room with a not so quiet thud, startling you. You drop the spoon you were stirring something with— smells like some sort of sauce, yum— and whip your head towards him.

He’s got his arms wrapped around you before you can even process that it's him, burying himself in your neck and inhaling the calm scent of you, a mix of your perfume and your detergent, so very you. 

“Miguel.” You sigh into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his waist as the initial shock of his intrusion wears off. 

He slumps into you, only trusting himself to let out a low grumble of your name. 

“What’s going— oh,” your brain puts two and two together. “Oh, Miguel, shh. It’s okay, I got you.”

And he breaks. Because he knows you mean it. He knows you have him. You always do.

The tears are bubbling over the rims of his eyes and splashing down his cheeks, his hands are twisted up in your loose shirt. He’s sure his claws have made an entrance too. One of your hands reaches to turn off the stove, the other rubbing incandescent patterns into his back. 

You were always so careful. Never leave the stove on, Miggy. Don’t wanna burn the food. He loves that about you.

“Hey,” your voice wisps in through the fog of his mental breakdown, of the end of the world. “Hey. It’s me. Just me. Your absolute favorite person on this planet.”

“Multiverse.” He manages through sob induced hiccups. 

“Multiverse,” You smile, breathing out a soft laugh as you toil him in closer. “Breathe, my love. I have you. Nobody is here but me, and I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

He nods, lets himself weigh more onto you.

“That’s it, I got you,” you coax. “Get it out of your system.”

He gives all the tears he has to give. He’s sandwiching you between the counter and his stature, but you don’t seem to mind. Your spilling words, mindlessly, talking until he’s done and ready to attach himself to them, the soft baritone of your voice.

And it takes time, but he gets there. He’s in the tunnel, the walls are caving in, he’s believing he's given all he has to give, but you’re there, and you’re telling him no, no you have not. You don’t get to lose, because you have SO much more life to live.

His light.

The tunnel lets up, opens up the walls, lets him bathe in you, in the way your arms are still hooked tight around his waist and you’re going on about how there was a new episode of your favorite show that he had to watch. 

And of course he would watch it.

He’d do anything for you, anything you asked whenever you wanted. And he knows, in turn, that there wasn’t a damn thing in this god forsaken reality that would stop you from doing the same for him.

You tell him as much. To his face, into his hair, with the dance of your fingers on his back, in the way you guide him to the couch, when you place down some food and a cup of water— you just cried out your backup supply— and again when you place yourself down next to him.

“I’m so beyond lucky to have you.” He murmurs to you, some fifteen minutes into the episode of your show, something about this dude with a metal helmet and a green baby? He can’t recall the name.

You turn, a smile gracing your features. “You deserve me. You deserve everything the multiverse has to offer and more. Dunno what I’d do without you.”

“You’d have one less person bothering you.”

“Ah, yes,” you laugh, swatting his cheek. “Like you’re such a nuisance.”

He laughs, actually laughs. It’s nice.

You tilt your head onto the girth of his shoulder, snuggling in tight as your attention is again sucked into the screen.

He smiles dazedly at you, finally feeling at peace.

Mi luz. My light.

is anyone else still obsessed with him or is that just me

[tasiales]

writing prompt idea - Alcina Dimitrescu x reader (long text below)

you've just recently started your new job as a nurse at the asylum, and it's during one of many meetings with one of your patients you're assigned to now what makes you trully fear for your life for the first time since you started your working journey there.

it takes one quick glimpse towards the haunched woman sitting seemingly peacefully on her bed scribbling something away in her journal to take your breath away. the woman before you is stunningly beautiful; her features and soft curves of her body hidden underneath all the clothing remind you that of someone sculpted by the gods themselves. it's only after your quick introduction to her that you've been pulled aside by one of your new colleagues to warn you in hushed whispers about previous unfortunate accidents revolving all other nurses ever interacting with your new patient you'd just met.

she's dangerous, they said.

be attentive around her, they warned.

she's a lunatic, they proclaimed.

how could she be, you thought, when she's one of your peaceful patients who you never had a problem with and whose sign of acknowledgement is barely there nods and tentative smiles she gives you during your rambling episodes to fill the silence in the time it takes you to finish your tasks. honestly, she's a delightful company in regards of not messing with you like others tend to do throughout your regular checkups. you try to focus on staying professional but it's hard to resist the pull you feel towards this mysterious woman who barely speaks. you'd been told she has amnesia and doesn't remember much, and you can't help but be sympathetic towards her with that bleeding heart of yours.

you don't give those warnings you'd received at the beginning of your job any ounce of significance until it's too late.

you have no clue what could be the cause of her enraged moment - snapping at you like that - but you don't feel like finding out any time soon. it was one of your checkups during which she suddenly lunged at you knocking the tray you were holding out of her way, pills and other equipment scattering on the floor and getting crushed under your feet. you had barely any time to think of screaming before there were hands around your throat and strong legs weighing down on you pinning you to the floor which you hadn't even noticed you were pulled down to. luckily for you, all the commotion taking place in the room was loud enough for one of the guards to take notice in; with their line of work they were accustomed to picking up on even the slightest signs of sound disturbance. you would never in your life forget those eyes staring down at you; they shined alarming golden - which was as disturbing as the fact she's physically strong enough to kill you - smoldering and daunting making your blood run cold, and in that moment you came to realize one thing that was probably meant to be kept as secret... that woman is not entirely human.

now resting in the safety of your apartment recovering from your miss death encounter, your fight or flight instinct though still in overdrive making you paranoid and jumpy, you're thinking back to that moment - with the woman you've been attracted to for a while squeezing the life out of you - you should've recognized something amiss when those eyes of hers - normal human grey-ish color before she went berserk - had started staring you down; should've heard the low tremble of her growls stuck in her throat waiting for the moment to be unleashed. you should've seen it coming, should've paid more attention and not getting your guard down like you'd been warned about not to do. but you were too preoccupied with chatting away believing in the innocence of your patient. now you know better.

you still don't know what was the reason for her to lash out in such a way, with such ferocity and animalism - the only topic you talked about when she decided it was a good day as any to choke you was Greek mythology(it's being your hobby since childhood), with Cassandra being brought up that particular day - and those golden eyes that still haunt your dreams is another mystery you're not sure you ought to crack open.

Or

you're a new nurse at the asylum getting attached to one particular patient of yours - mysterious Alcina Dimitrescu with amnesia who your colleagues claim to be deranged and a lost cause - until she assaults you during one of the checkups, and you're left wounded and terrified for your life. it isn't until few weeks later you have a chance at civil conversation with her but what you hear makes you want to rethink your eager approach to forgive her because cults? some cryptic sounding Miranda responsible for getting Alcina locked up at the asylum? her daugters being in danger from that woman? even though police claimed them to be dead? them being not entirely human? you talking about Cassandra triggered her memory? the two last ones you may believe but the rest of it? you find this all hard to be convinced of with no proof whatsoever. you would've thought her crazy if not for the fact that while looking at the sketch of that Miranda that Alcina showed you, dread starts pooling in the pit of your stomach because you recognize this woman staring at you from the confines of the journal; she's been everywhere you look after the choking accident making you all the more suspicious than you already were. now you think you were right to be unreasonably fearful of people surrounding you these days.

the question is... would you dive in into this sea of madness helping a complete stranger who you feel a pull towards and resurface unscathed, or would it consume you without mercy? only time will tell.

[xxsycamore]

Hi! Hope you've been well <3 I want to tell you that I completely adore your writing, it's very detailed and I love it. I hope it's ok to request something for the Late Spring Tryst #6 Gilbert from Ikemen Prince. I can only imagine one of his pictures/events where both MC and Gilbert get caught under the rain. Thank youuu <3

Wait, wait, I didn't say that I'll be taking requests! 😳 But maybe I can try coming up with something for you...👀✨ Thank you so much for your kind words! I hope you can continue to enjoy my works, have a great day! ❤❤❤

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

↬ 🖤 Gilbert takes care of his naughty little rabbit, who doesn't mind getting drenched in the rain to have him...

Gilbert von Obsidian x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Sex in the Rain; Rough Sex; Outdoor Sex; Vaginal Penetration; Vaginal Fingering; Creampie; Biting; Messy Sex; Dirty talk; Verbal Humiliation (mild); Aftercare • wordcount: 1, 713 • masterlist

Running barefoot on the tiled-floor corridors, barely missing your step down the staircase; the following loud creaking of a heavy wooden door being pushed open. It all swirls together in a colorful haze - the world before your eyes, the sounds and then the emotions; and then the sensation joins too, of being hit with a portion of sobering cool air as the outside is unforgiving. Even when you stop on your tracks and fixate the figure on the path ahead, your heart remains of someone running, beating so madly inside your chest.

Your soul is loud in parade, yet the skies are mourning silently. Why must they weep and rain down on the earth that Gilbert is walking? It's his return, yet the clouds disobediently refuse to part and make way even for someone as mighty and daunting as him. Very well then; you shall differ and be met with praise.

"And here I thought I'd surprise you by avoiding the main gates. Could it be that my little rabbit can sense me approaching? Have you missed me that much?"

Surprise you? If he really meant to sneak up on you, he would've done so without a problem; a longing gaze cast randomly past the windowpane was enough to spot him cross under the rose arch marking the entrance to the garden that is facing the back of the castle. It's some kind of test, perhaps, yet you willfully focus on the part resonating with your own version of this rushed meeting holding a deeper meaning, the signal coming from within, like you knew he was coming back early. Something akin to the concept of soulmates. Sweet thoughts rushing in, you quickly make your way across the cobblestone path marking the final meters separating you from him, with open arms. It's a little rough on your bare feet, yet the cold doesn't get to you.

Gilbert's embrace is a source of scorching warmth, but it strangely can't be found anywhere on his skin or under his heavy and warm attire. Like a spark that is needed to light a fuse, when you hug him, the fire envelops you.

Gilbert coos and returns the embrace, his arms resting on your shoulder and your head and act like a temporary shelter from the rain.

"Too taken aback to use words? I understand, for I, too, was overly eager to meet you again. I fantasized about you on the way back a lot, you know."

A lone butterfly flutters in the pit of your belly, not having sought refuge from the rain... The screaming reminder of something takes shape and washes off the innocent happiness of witnessing Gilbert's early return in one strong wave. Would he bring it up?

Looking up at him, you notice what the rain has done to him - dark hair sticking wetly to his cheek, begging you to reach and gently move it out of the way for him; one water drop running down the soaked eyepatch, right at the side of his tall nose, soon to meet the corner of his lips. Your throat is so dry, you realize, gulping down.

"You're out in the rain in that flimsy gown... how reckless, little rabbit..."

His glove-covered hands don't carry the warmth of human flesh, but the goosebumps are inevitably cast upon each and every millimeter of your skin that they graze. Your clothing doesn't do much in your favor, and that's where you want to correct him - it's not recklessness, it's impatience. But he'll interpret that wrong, too.

A harsh groping of your rear.

"What are you- doing-"

"I told you in my letter, didn't I? I'll devour you as soon as you enter my sight."

Fingers sinking into the flesh, the only thing keeping the gossamer from tearing apart under Gilbert's fingernails being the barrier made of black leather - much like the retractable claws of a big cat that simply means to play around and not cause harm. Not that Gilbert cares about your girly little gown, but marring the skin underneath should be a privilege saved for his teeth alone.

"Mm... rain mixes with your scent better than I imaged. Oh yes, I'll definitely will be taking you right here and now."

The reality of his words brings forth another wave - now without a doubt, arousal - over your abdomen and perhaps it's a little embarrassing to whine so early on, but it's too much. He wrecks you with words alone.

He turns you in his embrace, your backside sticking to his front, and the way he grips your jaw still can't distract you enough from the feeling of something hard pressing against your backside.

Hand moving your chin ever so gently, he urges on.

"Tell me, little rabbit, where should I bend you over? How about that tree over there? Or maybe you prefer the rose arch? Tsk, tsk, if only you would've waited a little longer, you could've been rolling in the silk of our bed instead, but alas... you're a naughty girl that would go to borderline animalistic lengths to have me inside her as soon as possible."

It should be more humiliating and definitely less arousing, the way he accuses of those things, yet you give him a further confirmation by grinding back against his tall frame. The little hairs at the back of your neck straighten up with the portion of warm air that leaves his lips, along with the amused chuckle he produces.

It's a mystery how he walks you to where he wants you - feeling a lot like a marionette guided by his hand - and you envy him for remaining so collected. Yet it's in the little things that you find an impatience of his own. The unfastening of his belt, the fingers finding your entrance to prepare for likely rough penetration... it's a little rushed, somehow. It tells you enough about how he feels.

"Aha, so you're already soaked... you can't blame the rain on this one, I'm afraid."

The thin material sticking to your legs has done nothing to make you feel clothed, yet when Gilbert hikes it up, you can't help but squirm. You're outside and practically naked; the spot is hidden from sight with tall branches hanging over the rose arch, yet the thrill is still tremendously present. The blunt head of Gilbert's cock presses against your freshly-fingered entrance, and in a flash all thoughts and feelings unrelated to seeking pleasure dissipate in the spring rain.

"You're sucking me right in... Aww, maybe I should tease you more and pull out before I bottom out all the way in? What sounds would you make then?"

You whimper and throw your head left and right to beg him to reconsider, hoping that it wouldn't make him more amused instead - if he's met with such apparent and vocal protest at the bare suggestion of it, the real thing must be a spectacle to see...but Gilbert can be generous too. If it's hidden behind his own pending need to feel your insides wrapped nice and tight around the entire length of his cock, that's it.

Your loud groan is not drowned in the rain and your hands are too busy keeping you upright to help muffle it, and it's good that they are, because Gilbert sets a steady rhythm right away, threatening to break your fragile balance. His thrusts are deep and hard; if there was a part of you not crazed with the strong feeling of him, now surely there's none. You feel him in your bones.

The target of his love bites this time is your left ear, and it means that you get to hear even the littlest noise of purring approval rising in his throat - the slight pain is coated in strange pleasure, as you've grown addicted to it, your tastes and preferences, your morality, your whole mentality, it's all bent and molten and reshaped into something dreadful and carrying his name.

"Are you going to be good and take my load inside you?"

He doesn't have to ask; it's absurd to think of turning around and wrapping your lips around him when you'll do a poor job of serving him with your mind emptied of coherent thoughts and muscle memory is nowhere near good enough for him. Your pussy clamps down on him, hands gripping the chiseled white stone harder until your knuckles start to resemble it in color. The rain makes the smooth surface of it more slippery, as if to rob you of the little stability you have.

"Just as I thought."

Gilbert is relentless and he presses up so deep inside it almost hurts; all in pursuit of his own pleasure. He hisses and finds it right there in your core, releasing his load inside you. It's scorching and it hits you deep inside, and though you want to fuck yourself back onto his cock, you stay and accept it obediently. Perhaps enjoying it like that is better than the pathetic instinct of your body, and Gilbert is doing you a favor you have to be thankful for. Either way, your pleasure peaks and you moan out his name amidst a strong climax.

The bite on your ear is kissed better, and the cock inside you withdrawn not long after. You didn't realize the stability you were so scared of losing was called Gilbert all along. The rose arch does nothing to hold you upright, and you feel your knees hitting the ground.

"Oh no, little bunny, you'll get all dirty in the mud... did I fuck you too hard and now you can't stand up on your own?"

The air is not enough for breathing, replying to him is out of the question. An unmistakable sensation is registered inbetween your legs, and you realize that Gilbert is watching you leak his cum, legs parted helplessly as you kneel on the wet, hard ground.

"You poor thing... You played in the rain and got all drenched up, didn't you? I guess that's your naughty way of making me pity you, so I can take care of you. But don't worry. I, too, look forward to spending some more special time with you while I warm and clean you up in the bath."

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @violettduchess @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @gilbertvonobsidian @aceuuuuu @atelier-the-atelier Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[little-red-fool]

OMG YOU'RE SEVENTEEN?? (I've been following you for months and I didn't once read the pinned message beyond the line about no AI and NFTs lmao) YOUR ART IS SO CRISPY I THOUGHT YOU WERE A PRO ARTIST AROUND 30 WTF

(sorry for the yelling via text)

HOW DID YOU GET SO GOOD!! (Tips on lineart please?) WE'RE THE SAME AGE, BUT HALF OF MY ART IS SHIT AND THE OTHER HALF IS FART

ALL HAIL LITTLE RED FOOL, BESTOW THY GREATNESS UPON THOU MERE MORTAL SERVANTS

But in all seriousness, any tips on, like I said, lineart or just digital art in general? (I just started digital, and... Ten hours of work and I'm just on base colors 😎🕶️🤏🥲) I love, LOVE your style and especially COLOR! How do you tie it all together? Like, I'm 17 too, but I'm not even close to your stuff?? I'm scared as fuck from ever trying color traditionally because I spend SO MUCH TIME ON A SKETCH, so I just picked up digital and HOURS LATER IT'S STILL AWFUL

Sorry for the rambling and repeating, man, it's been a long day and it's late in the Balkans... Don't let the rambling force you into answering tho

Have a good one. ->excited fellow artist

(tip of the day: did you know that in Romanian, moon and month are the same word, with the same pronunciation, spelling and plural? It's called: lună [loonuh] and I think it comes from latin, since Romanian is a heavily latin language, with bits of french and turkish (HEAVY bits), dacian, slavic, italian)

OUAHFSHD THANK YOU SO MUCH I’M REALLY HAPPY YOU LIKE MY ART!! Also I’m sure your art is better than you think it is (we generally tend to view our own creations as worse than others because we’re the ones that made them, don’t worry I’m the same as well ajdbsjd) but yeah I’ll be happy to give you some tips and stuff! (and yeah I never colour traditionally either I just leave everything in plain biro because I don’t want to mess it up lol)

(I haven’t seen your art so these will probably be more general tips but hopefully they’ll help a bit, also keep in mind that I’m not a professional so this will be more about what has worked for me but I hope it might help you a bit)

So for stuff like lineart, avoid using chicken-scratches—it might seem easier or less daunting to do shorter overlapping lines like that but it will give your sketches and drawings that overall fuzzy look, the trick is to have longer confident strokes. It might seem a bit tricky at first if you haven’t done it before so don’t worry it happens but if you keep practicing they’ll eventually look smoother and less shaky. For the longer lines it better to draw from either your elbow or shoulder, and by that I mean keeping your wrist still and letting the larger parts of your arm do most of the work—this will also help your wrist in the long run. For things like shorter lines and smaller details then absolutely use your hand to move the pen, but generally try to use your elbow and shoulder as it will help you get those longer smoother lines. Also this is just a personal preference of mine but I generally use brushes that have a bit of pressure sensitivity which helps add some line weight. If you don’t have pressure sensitivity another way you can get line weight is by taking an eraser to some of the edges and narrowing some parts.

For colours it mainly depends on the lighting—lighting is everything and will affect how the rest of the colours will look, so it’s important to have an idea of the brightness and colour of your lighting. The background also plays an important role in picking colours for me as well as it helps provide colour context and makes it easier to pick colours by eye if you want a certain mood. If you want a more dependable way on getting colours to match up then I’d recommend having a layer that’s just colour on top of the rest of your piece—you can play around with the blending modes and opacity, I mainly use either an overlay layer with a medium colour that’s slightly desaturated or a colour burn layer with a light saturated colour; most of the time I use colour burn because if you put it over your lineart then it will also tint the parts of your lineart or sketch that’s at a lower opacity too. But with figuring out colours I’d highly recommend researching some stuff about colour theory, there are a lot of good and easy to understand explanations and art tutorials on YouTube so I would recommend starting there (unfortunately I can’t link recommend specific videos because my playlists are a mess ajdbsjdbsj but some good channels to learn from are Sinix Design, Marc Brunet and Marco Bucci).

In terms of general digital art tips, ALWAYS FLIP YOUR CANVAS. You will not believe the amount of times I’ve looked at a drawing and thought it looked pretty good, flipped the canvas and found that everything’s wonky. In cases like these the liquify tool is your best friend, as well as the lasso tool and transform tools, as well as just manually fixing them by redrawing some parts. Also use as many layers as you need, and by this I mean if you’re working on your sketch, lineart or colouring or whatever and you want to do something you’re not sure you’ll like, duplicate the layers so you have a backup in case it goes wrong and you want to go back. When I say use as many layers as you need I mean use as many as you need, these are some of mine and they’re all from just one sketch because I get really anxious about messing stuff up lol, also don’t be afraid of drawing separate parts on separate layers and merging them afterwards if you want.

Also take your time, unless you have a deadline don’t feel like you have to complete a drawing within a certain timeframe, if you want to get faster at drawing then that’s great but don’t feel like you need to push yourself, especially if you’re just starting. Practice takes time and patience is your best friend, and you probably hear lots of other artists saying this but trust the process. You might get to a bit you’re struggling with and not like it and want to abandon the drawing, but I found that rather than saying “this is bad” or “this is wrong” start asking “how can I make this work” because a change in mindset can help you a lot with art. Also don’t feel like you have to reach certain milestones with your art by certain points either, like with the age thing and comparing your progress with other artists of either the same or different ages, because it can make you feel worse about your art. Trust me there are some artists younger than me who are like 14 or 15 who’s art I envy and—again with the mindset thing��instead of getting down that your art isn’t similar to their’s or worrying that you’re “behind” in your artistic development (there is no such thing btw everyone learns at different ages and speeds so don’t feel bad if you haven’t progressed as much as you would have liked to) it helps to ask what you like about their art and what you would like to incorporate into your own—this has helped me learn and improve a lot faster.

I don’t know if I have any more tips at the moment, but I hope that answered some of your questions! (also sorry it’s a bit long or some bits don’t make a lot of sense I like to ramble a bit lol) (also also thank you for the little fact as well!)

Have a nice day anon 🧡

[crguang]

Cabernet anon again 👋🏾 🍷

I was rereading your post on when I asked for your thoughts about her and saw your list of your favorite ladies so far. I noticed that you have Adela and Oak Casket (they’re also on my top favorites list too) and I was wondering if you could give us some thoughts or even thirsts about them. Honestly anything you give us great so I have no complaints whether you lean more into one more than the other.

Can I be this emoji 🍷? I definitely be coming back to ask for more ptn stuff so think of me as the ptn girl lol?

HIIII yes you can!! wine emoji for my cabernet anon fits so well, welcome to the circus🙂‍↕️ i have so many thoughts about oak and adela, i’ll try to condense them so this isn’t a lengthy answer.

let’s start with oak!! my attachment to her is very personal and kind of heavy so i won’t say too much but i really resonate with her. she’s experienced death even if it wasn’t in the literal sense and is constantly around the dead since; she’s alive but she’s not. she despises the living for the suffering they cause and forgets that she’s living too. she spends all her time tending to the dead, comforting them, listening to them, making it so that their last regrets are put to rest along with their consciousness. in a weird way, she’s super comforting to me because she understands how ugly living can be. i realize that it’s a sort of twisted line of thinking to believe that death is true salvation but as someone who is scared of it, it makes the whole thing less daunting and in general easier to accept. she had to hold an official funeral for herself to put her past to rest and i felt that so bad😭 i looove how twisted she’s become by being a bridge between the dead and the living world, all she hears are regrets and all she feels is the powerlessness that comes with dying, so she’s obsessed with the idea of experiencing a more “satisfying” death through Chief and that’s so… delicious. and despite how comforting i find her, she’s kinda evil lmfao, she’s the reason for so many conflicts in syndicate from selling information and trafficking goods, and she’s not afraid to use those guns like damn. i always forget about that part because she looks so nice until she whips them out in battle

oak’s design is also one of my personal favorites in the whole game. i’m a sucker for religious themes in darker stories and the priest robes made sexy is insaneee. the cross over her chest, the stole, the gloves ughhh she looks so good. the color green symbolizing immortality when she deals with death all the time because the souls she’s let rest will forever live on with her. her eyes being different color (green and pink, opposites) because she’s at once dead and alive, the only link between these two realms… the black strands in her otherwise ashen hair as if she’s been tainted in some way and carries death with her forever— the cardinal directions on the altar because she’s essentially a guide ohh its so good. plus that ENG voice does a lot of things to meee it’s so soothing and deep, she sounds exactly as she should and it tickles my brain really nicely. paired with her playful yet scary allure it fits her soooo well.

needless to say that oak is insanely gorgeous and i need to feel those hands on my hair while i go down on her and she’s praising my enthusiasm like ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh she has the same effect on me as black swan from HSR where every time i see her i have to stop and stare for a while because i can’t believe how sexy she is. how do her boobs stay in that dress. they have to be so perky for her to not need a bra. need them in my mouth until they glisten as i pull away i want her so bad. i feel like she’s a reallll moaner, her voice gets deep and slurred and raspy mm… i’ll show her pleasure she can only get while alive, trust!

on to my BABYYYYYYY. ADELA. oh my goodness i love her so much it’s incredible. i love love love charming women and she’s the epitome of that!!! my first thought about her was, “omg she’s so charming” and she’s only proven that throughout her event. she’s so cute, so kind, so selfless and holds a genuine desire to help others. she’s not manipulating chief and after they broke her shears, she even looks out for them the whole time. bringing them back to her home, changing them, making breakfast, washing their clothes?!$(!?(!?! she just wants to do some good and escape her own troubles i love and understand her so much. i have an avoidant personality so i will run from my issues, if i could erase my own memories of past suffering i would do that in a heartbeat 😭 i really understand the need to eradicate all traces of your pain and sadness, even if some of it is necessary for growth. the analogy of troubles manifesting as long, long hair until it’s all that she sees is incredibly creative and it makes the audience sympathize with her desire to cut it all off despite it causing others pain. she’s such a soothing soul that people have no issue confiding in her, her presence is reassuring and she’s always so calm… i wanna give her a hug and stay like that for half an hour, she could cure me. her voice!!!! i was not expecting the british accent but it’s so soft and sweet. i could listen to her talk for ages, it’s a shame she never has much to talk about because she forgets everything.

i love the “character wants to help others but only hurts them and themselves” trope and that’s literally her. erasing people’s memories unprompted is insane, especially when they include people who mean a lot to them, but she doesn’t see the wrong in it because in her mind she’s solving all of their worries. it’s really cute but she lacks so much nuance that it affects her as well, she wants a peaceful life yet she cuts off her own memories whenever something goes wrong which causes her to forget about the places she’s lived in and the people in it too. she’s not living any sort of life, she doesn’t know where she’s from and has no friends, she isn’t truly remembered by anybody— she’s an empty shell with a smile on her face. it’s sad how someone who so readily helps others must feel so empty inside. she says she has no worries but that’s because she has nothing she cares about enough to worry over, otherwise she’ll snip snip it off just like she did her memories of Chief. she’s learning to feel her feelings and let them pass tho, i’m proud of her <3

what happened with her mother destroyed me because i relate a lot and would have done exactly what she did in that situation, she believed that she was a burden and failed to understand that she was loved (though that’s her mother’s fault) so she ran. my hearttt.

her design is also one of my favs like look at her!!! her hair is what drew me in first and it’s so fitting considering that it’s her whole thing. it looks so good, i love the colors and the stray strands that give it a messy look, and how it gets longer as she’s controlled by the shears like it has a mind of its own. i have no idea what that contraption is on her chest but the scissors are great, and the ones from her earrings too. the leather straps/harness of her coat are my favorite part they remind me of a (sexy) straight jacket and it ties into the whole “she creates her own constraints” thing about her that i love. all in all adela is sooo pretty, just stunning. blue and black were my favorite colors for over a decade so im really biased towards her color palette hehe.

omg i really love how scary she is with the shears it’s such a harsh contrast with her personality. her ult voice line is lowkey terrifying, no wonder she’s an urban legend; “shhh… i… found… you…” in a quiet, sing-song voice is crazy

since she’s more comforting to me than anything else slow, loving sex would be soooo nice. she feels like a service top (my kindred spirit) and she’d want to “ease your worries” that way once the shears are off limits, so she’d learn your body inside and out to make you feel so so good until you forget all about what had you stressed in the first place. she can’t use her blades but we can always scissor! i’m just like her so i wanna fuck her brains out until she can’t remember anything but the words “yes” and “please” <3 she deserves to be so overstimulated her worrying brain turns to mush. wearing a coat with nothing underneath is a choice but like oak, there’s no way her tits just stay in place unless they’re perky enough which kinda drives me nuts mmhhhhh i wanna suckle them like a pacifier😞

this ended up long anyway im sorry about that hhjhgdd but in my defense they’re my favorite characters…

[winters8child]

It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 21

I was not prepared for the onslaught of emotions overwhelming me, so I froze. It felt wrong to kiss Bucky with Steve sleeping just a few steps away. I loved two men, and I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting either of their feelings. It seemed inevitable, like a train barreling toward me that I couldn’t escape. Bucky felt my hesitation and pulled back, searching my face for answers.

I blinked out of my reverie. “I can’t do this, Buck. It has nothing to do with you, but…”

Bucky looked hurt as he let go of me. “Steve…I know.” He looked at the floor and took a step back. “This sucks. I don’t know what to do, Doll. I just know we can’t keep playing this game of hide and seek. You have to tell him the truth…about everything.”

The next morning, everyone packed up, and we made our way to the SHIELD facilities in London. Steve and I were busy helping to locate the rest of the Hydra hideouts, while Bucky did his best to avoid me. It was difficult, given that both of us were part of Steve’s new team, the Howling Commandos. It was a colorful group, made up of the soldiers Steve had saved from the Hydra facility where he had found Bucky.

We all gathered in a dimly lit pub, and despite the ongoing world war, the atmosphere was surprisingly cheerful—maybe they were just drunk. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I enjoyed the company of these men, who seemed to appreciate me. Most of them I knew by name, considering that I had been the one patching them up. I sat between Dum Dum Dugan, an American soldier, and a British guy named James Falsworth. James was charming, and whenever he got chocolate in his rations, he would share it with me as a thank you for mending him up.

Steve and Bucky were at the bar, deep in conversation, but it was too loud for me to hear what they were saying. Suddenly, the room fell silent, and everyone turned their attention to the door. I craned my neck, trying to see what the commotion was about, and then I saw her: Agent Carter in a red dress, walking straight towards Steve. She looked stunning, like a Hollywood starlet, and even Bucky and Steve seemed to be impressed. A pang of jealousy hit me, and I needed some fresh air. The pub was too stuffy, and the cigar smoke was overwhelming.

I excused myself and went outside, leaning against the lamppost in front of the pub, trying to calm the jealousy simmering inside me. Before long, I heard footsteps, and Bucky stepped outside, his eyes scanning the area until they landed on me. He smiled as he approached.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his concern evident.

I didn’t feel like talking, and I didn’t want him to see this vulnerable side of me, so I just nodded. Bucky didn’t seem convinced. “She asked him to dance, and he told her he wasn’t interested, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he explained, noticing my silent turmoil. When I didn’t respond, he began to pace in front of me, frustration clear in his steps. “This can’t go on like this. We need to talk to him about everything. We’re at war, and all I can think about is you, Steve, and this goddamn situation.” His eyes pleaded with me, as if he was waiting for a salvation that only I could provide.

“You’re right…I know. I’ll tell him. I promise. I’ll tell him tomorrow,” I said, the unease in my gut growing heavier. It was a daunting task, but it was probably for the best.

When tomorrow came, I walked to the SHIELD office, knowing Steve would be there since Howard Stark had said he had something for us. I was curious about Stark’s request, but I was even more nervous about revealing the truth to Steve. He was already waiting in front of Peggy’s desk when I arrived. He was talking to a female SHIELD agent who was clearly flirting with him, though he seemed nonchalant, or perhaps oblivious, to her advances.

Swallowing my jealousy, I walked up and greeted them both, leaning on Peggy’s desk. Stark was running late, and as I waited, I started to look around and noticed my file on Peggy’s desk. I picked it up and flipped through it, finding my medical information and details about my past—where my family came from, that I was an only child, my parents’ names, and where I grew up.

I landed on a document about my health and vitals before and after the injections. It was standard information until I came across a line that stopped me cold. “Subject before infection: pregnant. It will be interesting to see how the injections affect gestation.” Across from it, it simply read, “Injections were fatal to embryo.”

I felt dizzy, and my stomach churned violently. I dropped the file and clung to the table as I dry-heaved. Steve must have heard me, because he came over and took my hand, his face filled with concern. “What’s going on? Are you alright?” he asked, shock in his voice.

I grabbed the paper basket next to the table and threw up. I was so absorbed in my sickness that I didn’t notice Steve picking up the file and reading it.

When I finally looked up, I saw the shock in Steve’s eyes as he read the document that had made me sick. He put the file back and helped me sit in a nearby chair. “I don’t understand…this is your file…how…when?” he asked, his voice trembling.

I wiped my face with a tissue from Peggy’s desk, my own white complexion mirroring my inner turmoil. Steve began rubbing my back, trying to soothe me, though I knew he was full of questions I wasn’t ready to answer. I wanted to talk to him, but this wasn’t how I had envisioned it.

After a long, tense silence, Steve finally said, “Talk to me.”

And I told him everything.

Next Chapter

[the-albster]

Open Mic Night

I thought I was going to have more time to finish this one this week, but alas, college life and extracurriculars have caught up to me. Still, I am very attached to this piece, and I have had this idea for a while. I hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 2,468

Content Warnings: mild panic attack, self-deprecation, mention of a noose in song lyrics

Summary: Pari signed up to sing a favorite song of hers at an open mic night, and all of her friends come along to watch. It's dark and snowy, and she's getting more and more nervous. She admits she's scared when she's in the bathroom, and Kariah helps her out. Pari gets up onstage and performs, any nerves immediately fading. All of the friends applaud and compliment her, and it ends in a group hug and late-night food.

Content Used: "The Cave" by Mumford and Sons

Art By: @eventidebrine

_________________________________________

It was a cold, snowy Monday night. A very anxious Pari was walking briskly through the snow, holding gloved hands tightly with Kariah, wearing her guitar on her back. Behind them was the rest of the friend group; Faith, Christine, Todd, Marisol, and Tristan. They were all happily chatting amongst each other (minus Faith and Christine, who were arguing again,) and Pari had it completely tuned out.

“How are you feeling?” Kariah asked, squeezing Pari’s hand. She looked gorgeous in her champagne-colored puffy jacket. Pari wished wearing her hair down everyday didn’t bother her as much as it did; her ears were pretty cold from her hair in her signature bun.

“Fine,” Pari said, but that was not what she meant.

Tonight was the yearly open mic night. This one was different from most; you had to sign up in advance in order to be able to perform. Todd said he had heard rumors that it had gone on for almost three hours last year, so they were doing this to shorten it. This year, Pari decided on a whim that she would try to sign up for a position, not expecting for there to be one open for her.

But there was exactly one. Which meant that she was performing in front of an audience.

Pari wasn’t the type that had stage fright normally, but something about this was daunting. Maybe because of the rawness of the song she was playing, and how she would be able to see every single audience member. Also, all of her friends insisted on going along, and none of them had ever heard Pari sing. Todd had heard her tune her guitar, but he had never heard her playing a full song, and he especially had never heard her sing.

What if her voice wasn’t good? What if she was too quiet?

“Honey, you’re not fine. You forget that I can see right through you.” Kariah squeezed Pari’s hand tight. “You’re going to do amazing.”

“You got this, Pari!” Marisol squealed, skipping forward to walk next to her. She was wearing a beanie, her hair now about pixie cut length, and her jacket was so big on her that it didn’t look like she could move her arms. Pari glanced back at Todd, who was looking at Marisol fondly. She smiled softly at him, and then looked back at her.

“Thanks, Marisol.”

They arrived at the cafe moments later, and the anxiety was beginning to overtake Pari. She took a deep breath and then, as a form of comfort, made sure she had everything.

“I have my guitar… Kariah, you have my backpack?”

“Yep. And I looked at your list. Your shirt, skirt, headband, brush, makeup, and heels are all inside. I triple checked.”

Pari breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re perfect. Thank you.”

Todd stepped forward to be near Pari, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Pari, you’re gonna be great up there. I can’t wait to hear you sing.”

“And,” Kariah added, “I’m proud of you for trying something new, even if it’s scary. You’re going through with it even though it scares you, and that is bravery if I’ve ever seen it.”

“I don’t feel very brave,” Pari snapped, and she looked down, guilt already filling her heart. “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

Tristan came up from behind Pari and wrapped her in a big bear hug, patting her shoulder roughly, yet it was comforting. “You’re gonna kill it, Par!”

Pari looked back at Christine, who nodded at her. “You’ll be fine.”

Faith shoved her girlfriend and leaned forward. “You’re going to, like, kill it out there! I don’t know why you didn’t want me to ask daddy to record it professionally.”

“I’d rather not feel like I’m on a news show when I’m performing,” Pari responded. “Also, thank you guys.”

Feeling supported by her friends, Pari walked inside, taking a deep breath. It was, thankfully, right between performances, so nothing was interrupted.

“Y’all go find us seats. Todd, save me one up front. I’m gonna go with Pari to get ready.” Todd nodded and grabbed a program as Pari handed him her guitar. He led everyone to their seats as they all grabbed programs. Tristan handed a couple to Pari and Kariah, and Kariah opened it immediately.

“We have four performances to get you ready, Par. Come on, let’s go find the bathroom.”

Pari took Kariah by the hand, and Kariah briskly led Pari to the restroom. It was a small, yet surprisingly clean single-stall bathroom.

“You go in the stall and change, and I’ll get your makeup and stuff out and get ready to doll you up.” Kariah reached into the bag and handed Pari her clothes. Taking a shaky breath, Pari took them, and she slipped into the stall, shutting the door behind her.

The more Pari thought about the performance, the more anxiety she began to have. She had signed up for this because… well, one, she didn’t think there would actually be a spot for her, and two, because she wanted to give back to her community by participating in a local event. And she wanted to do that, but the idea of going up on that little stage and completely letting herself go in front of all of those people sent a wave of nervousness throughout her body. She would be performing, something she didn’t normally do, and she chose a song that made her feel vulnerable. No one had heard her sing. Kariah was the performer, not her.

Soon, the thoughts came rushing back. “I’m not good enough.” “I can’t do this.” “Everyone’s going to laugh at me.”

And as soon as Pari was dressed, she crumpled to the ground, tears streaming down her face.

Kariah knocked on Pari’s stall door, and Pari moved just enough to open it for her. She sat down next to her girlfriend, brushing a hair out of her face.

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?”

“I’m…” It was hard for her to admit it, but she did. “I’m scared.”

“Oh, honey…” Kariah wiped a tear off of her face. “Can I hug you?”

“Please�� please do.”

Moments later, Pari felt Kariah’s arms around her, and she melted into them, holding onto her so tightly. She was shaking, fearing what was going to happen when she got on that stage. And now that she was crying, it was going to look like she didn’t want to be there. She did.

She was just scared.

“It’s going to be okay,” Kariah whispered, stroking her hair. “You’re going to do great. I’m so excited to hear you perform. You’re going to be the best part of that open mic night, and deep down, you know it.”

“No, you’re only saying that because you’re my girlfriend.”

“I’m saying that because it’s true. I know you’re scared. Trust me, I’m always scared before I go up onstage.” Pari looked up at her, eyes red, and Kariah smiled softly. “It’s true. The pre-show jitters exist. But once you’re up there, and you get started, it’s going to be fine.” Kariah let Pari go and then stood up, bringing her up with her. “Come on. Let’s do some warm ups.”

“In the cafe bathroom?”

“In the cafe bathroom.”

Pari wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. Kariah gave her one last hug and then twirled her around. “Follow what I do, and the pre-show jitters will be gone.”

She led her through some tongue twisters, some energy warm ups, and some stretches. By the time they were done, there were two shows left. As Kariah began to do Pari’s makeup, she looked into her eyes.

“When you get up on that stage,” Kariah said, “imagine you’re in the music practice room. Think of the song that you’re singing, and how it resonates with you. Feel the music, feel the moment, sing your heart out.”

Pari nodded, a soft smile escaping her lips, feeling much better. “Thank you.”

_________________________________________

“Ugh! I, like, love the arts, but I came here to see Pari! When does Pari get to go?” Faith flipped through her program and huffed.

“She’s next, dumbass,” Christine pointed at the program. “That was 11. Pari’s 12th.”

“I’m so excited!” Marisol exclaimed, leaning forward to rest her head on Todd’s. “Todd! Are you ready to see your sister perform?!”

Todd nodded, leaning his head back to look at Marisol. “You know it, babe.”

Kariah was sitting front and center, staring at the stage in anticipation. She was wondering how Pari was doing while she was back there waiting to go. It had only been one performance, but Kariah felt like it had been so long, and she was ready to see her girlfriend shine in the spotlight.

Then, moments later, Pari came out.

Since Kariah did her makeup, she knew how pretty Pari looked, but something about the cozy lighting in the restaurant made her look gorgeous and elegant. Her skirt flowed behind her slightly, and her hair was neatly tied into a bun on her head. Kariah was in awe of how gorgeous her girlfriend was, and the more she looked at her, the more excited she was to see Pari perform.

As they were sound-checking Pari, Faith leaned forward and tapped on Kariah’s shoulder. Kariah turned around. “Hm?”

“You did her makeup, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you did, like, amazing. Pari looks really pretty right now.” That made Kariah smile. Faith, the expert of fashion and makeup in the friend group, gave her a makeup compliment. That made her feel special.

“Test, test.”

The crowd began to quiet down. Kariah looked up at her girlfriend, so excited. She was sensing the nervousness coming back to her by the way she was tensed up onstage and by the look in her eyes. Pari looked out at Kariah, who smiled and gave her a thumbs-up.

“Hi, I’m Pari Shepard, and I’m going to be performing one of my favorite songs. It’s called ‘The Cave.’ I hope you enjoy it.”

Pari took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and Kariah began to smile wider than she had in a while.

And then, she began to play.

As Pari’s fingers moved along the strings of the guitar, Kariah could see the nerves and the tenseness in Pari completely vanish. In fact, as she began to play, she noticed a small smile creeping onto her face. And the music itself was gorgeous. Kariah was expecting her to go up there and play some chords and sing along, but Pari played lots of little, intricate notes that formed a beautiful melody. Kariah was gazing at her, and she couldn’t stop smiling. She was so proud.

And Pari’s voice! Her Polish accent just barely shone through, making her voice sound gorgeously unique. Though her voice was soft, it was still clear, and it filled the room. Everything about Pari was ethereal. Kariah took a quick glance at Todd next to her, who had a look of pure pride on his face.

“I’m so proud of her…” he muttered. Kariah smiled wide and listened as Pari sang.

“But I will hold on hope

And I won’t let you choke

On the noose around your neck

And I’ll find strength in pain

And I will change my ways

I’ll know my name as it’s called again…”

Kariah could tell that the lyrics really meant a lot to Pari; the idea of overcoming struggles and finding strength in hard times. She didn’t want the singing to end. She was lost in Pari’s beauty, her talent, and honestly, just everything about her. The way her eyes sparkled as she sang something meaningful. The way her fingers strummed the guitar. The way she rested the guitar on her knee as she played. The way she smiled as she sang. The way it was so clear that Pari was up on that stage doing something she loved.

God, Kariah was so in love with her.

When Pari was done singing, she looked out into the audience, tears filling her eyes as she smiled. “Thank you.”

The room filled with applause. Kariah stood up, screaming, “Go Pari! You did it, honey! I love you so much!!”

Pari walked off the stage, her eyes watering and her body trembling. The adrenaline must have rushed when she went up there, and now that she was done, it was fading out.

“Pari! Oh my gosh!” Marisol was bouncing up and down. “You did so good!”

She smiled at Marisol’s compliment, and she set her guitar against a chair. “Thanks, Mari.”

Kariah took a step forward, taking Pari’s hands. “You, my Pari, were amazing up there. I’m so, so proud of you. I love you more than anything.”

“Thanks, babe. I love you too.”

Pari leaned forward and gave Kariah a tight hug, and Kariah kissed the top of her head, taking a moment to wipe the tears off of her girlfriend’s face. Those tears were likely a mix of emotions from the song and emotions from getting through that performance. They made Kariah begin to tear up as well.

Kariah felt Todd’s arms around both of them, and then Marisol joined. Tristan came up behind Todd and put his hand on Pari’s shoulder, hugging her too. Faith stepped forward and tried to drag Christine along, but Christine wouldn’t budge, so she joined the hug on both of their behalfs.

The group hug made Pari feel seen. Happy.

Loved.

Like she was lovable.

“Thank you guys for coming…” Pari said between tears, “and thank you for this. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you guys supporting me.”

“Wanna stay and get food?” Tristan exclaimed as the hug dispersed. “It’s on me!”

Everyone cheered and nodded, and as Pari was walking, Christine tapped her on the shoulder. She held out her hand, which Pari took, and they shook hands.

“I knew you had it in the bag, Par. Nice job.”

Pari grinned and nodded. “Thanks, Christine.”

Todd stepped forward and squeezed Pari. “You really did. You put yourself out there, and I didn’t know you could sing OR play like that! What other secrets are you keeping from me?”

A soft chuckle escaped Pari’s lips. “None. Thank you, Todd.”

She went and rejoined the rest of the group, sitting next to Kariah and leaning over on her shoulder. Being on that stage sent a new wave of confidence through her, and lit a fire in her that maybe, just maybe, going on a stage and singing with her guitar was going to be a new passion of hers.

Kariah looked down and brushed Pari’s bangs out of her face. “I really am proud of you.”

Pari smiled and looked down. “Thanks. For once, I’m proud of me, too.”

[caffeineinducedbeing]

the rest of our lives

The sun cast a warm glow over the Redmont courtyard as Alyss and Will walked hand in hand through the gardens. The soft summer breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers. It had been a few months since Will had proposed, and now they were knee-deep in wedding planning.

They strolled over to a quiet corner of the courtyard, where they sat comfortably on a bench.

Alyss's eyes twinkled with a mix of emotions, from excitement to a touch of nervousness. She turned to Will, her fingers lacing with his. "I never thought I'd be the one planning a wedding. It's like something out of a dream."

Will chuckled softly, his gaze fixed on her. "Well, it's a dream I'm more than happy to be a part of. And it's a lot less daunting when I know I'll be marrying my best friend."

Alyss shook her head, a warm smile tugging at her lips. "You charmer"

He shrugged playfully. "Just speaking the truth my love," Then he leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

Alyss giggled, her eyes shining with happiness. "Definitely exciting. But also a bit overwhelming. There's so much to figure out and arrange."

Will chuckled, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "Tell me about it. Who knew there were so many details to consider? The colors, the flowers, the guest list..."

"Exactly," Alyss agreed. "And don't even get me started on the seating chart. It's like a puzzle trying to figure out where everyone should sit."

They both shared a laugh, the shared challenges of wedding planning being nearly comedic in the face of all they'd been through together already. Will leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on her temple. "We'll figure it out, the important thing is that at the end of the day, we're married."

She smiled, her heart full of affection for the man beside her. "Yeah, as long as we end up married, the day will be a success, everything will fall into place."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Then, Will spoke up again. "Have you thought about the vows?"

Alyss looked thoughtful for a moment, "I have. I want them to be personal, meaningful."

Will nodded, "meaningful, I guess I can do that."

Alyss nodded in turn and said jokingly, "You're probably going to have to throw in that you'll promise to love me for better or worse."

I'll make sure to fit it in somewhere"

Alyss chuckled softly, leaning her head against his shoulder. "You better. And I'll promise not to laugh too hard when you start tearing up during the vows."

Will feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Hey, I can't help it if I'm emotional."

She grinned, playfully hitting his side. "I know, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

They didn't speak for a moment, they sat peacefully basking in the others presence.

Then Will said sincerely, "And I'll promise you that I'll always support you, that I'll be your partner in every adventure, and that I'll love you with everything that I am everyday of our lives."

Alyss froze, feeling an overwhelming amount of love pass between them, she looked up at him, drew a breath to speak, then stopped, her head plopping back on his shoulder with an annoyed thud.

"I can't top that" she said in feigned grumpiness.

Will laughed, "you're not supposed to"

Their eyes met, a shared understanding passing between them.

Alyss curled further into Will's side, feeling a sense of calm wash over her. "I can't wait to be your wife"

He wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her close. "And I can't wait to call you my wife. It feels like we've been ready for this for a long time, now that it's finally happening...."

Alyss finished the sentence for him, "It does feel that way, doesn't it? Like our lives have been leading us to this point somehow."

She felt him nod a few times, then press a kiss to the top of her head once more. "I'm just grateful that I get to spend the rest of my life with you, Alyss."

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with affection. "The rest of our lives are starting pretty soon aren't they?"

"In about 2 months, yes they are"

She kissed him long and slow, a promise that transcended words.

"I can't wait" she whispered

[itsu-saragi]

Devlog #3 - Revisions and Indecisions.

Sjdjfdhs hi. Apologies for letting the “see you in a month” turn into several months. Work got busy, then I caught Covid, after recovering I went on vacation, and then work got busy again… But I did work on this VN all throughout.

I didn’t make as much progress as I wanted, but some progress was made nevertheless.

So what exactly did I do? Let me count the ways.

Story Revisions

Changed the premise from magic academia to magic uhhh small business? Workshop? Something like that, I'm not sure what to call it.

My original story followed the player character and their love interest as they explored their university campus. This came to be because I was tinkering with the concepts of "group partners to lovers" & showing the player character as non-humanoid to allow for reader-insert and immersion, like the Obey Me games and the pink sheep MC. But the story stopped being appealing to me, plus the scope started to become bigger than I had anticipated. Multiple CGs in different locations across a giant campus? Yeah that's a nightmare to draw.

I'd still like to explore the idea of a non-humanoid MC though, so maybe that'll be a future game, or at least another brain dump post!

But anyway, I shrunk the premise. One store, one LI, and the customers that enter the little workshop. I'm still sticking to the idea of mundane modern fantasy though.

Because of the location change from university to workshop, I've had to revise the LI a lot. He's shaping up really well though! His name is Fen, I hope I can introduce him here sometime soon.

Building Frameworks

I'm not sure what to call it, so for now I'm calling it frameworks.

Basically, instead of tackling each aspect of the game separately from drafts to completion (ex: drawing all sprites right now and then moving on to writing the script), I want to create rough versions of everything.

I think this will help me because then I'll have an idea of how much work each aspect will entail, and I can hopefully spot and remedy any holes or glaring skill issues.

This is especially important for coding. I'll be using RenPy, the classic engine for visual novels, but I have very little coding experience. I'd like to gain some before I start creating the writing and assets meant to be incorporated into the platform.

By creating the framework (or I guess prototype is the better word in this case), I'll get some understanding of how RenPy works and once I have the assets complete I can insert those in.

For plot frameworks, I'm trying not to go into too much detail. Lots of bullet points cause I fuck with those.

For character frameworks, I must admit I'm putting a lot of thought and detail into Fen, but I think I should as he's the core of this game. I'm reminding myself though that much of him can still be altered if the story requires it.

There's definitely more frameworks I need to think about, like sprites, backgrounds, and music too.

But to sum it up, I'd like to create a rough draft of the entire game, and then only afterward do I start going in and changing details and adding colors to the big picture. I hope that makes sense.

Next Step: Character & Coding Frameworks

For the rest of April and probably the entirety of May as well, I'll focus on fleshing out Fen and putting together the coding framework.

I think figuring out Fen's character arc will help me get an idea of the overall story, which is incredibly daunting yet exciting lol

I'm not planning on making the coding look pretty, I just want to make something that functions. I have no clue how well that will go so please pray for me or something.

Personal Thoughts: I am Afraid

I think the reason why I didn't make a lot of progress is because lately, I've been afraid of doing so. I've never made a game before, or written an original story. I don't know what I'm doing, and instead of directly addressing things I've kept working around them. And because I haven't made much progress, it stresses me out. And then that stress makes me do less work.

Hellooo feedback loop.

I'm an indecisive person who likes to look for the right or most optimal answer. But in a creative project like this, it's hard to know what the "right" answer is cause it can be subjective.

I'm trying to remind myself to enjoy the process and to take small steps, and everything is still changeable as I'm still in the beginning stages. It's hard, but as I'm writing this update I think I'm feeling better.

I'm sure this gamedev journey will be me enjoying the ride and then immediately hating it, so for anyone reading: thank you for your patience. I appreciate you.

I'm going to try and post an update, no matter how small it is, once a month. So. Cheers to me being able to post this in April.

I'm still trying to figure out what to post and how to get my thoughts across. I've never done anything like this before, so please bear with me. If you have any feedback, please feel free to share!

And again, thank you to whoever's reading this. I hope you have a great timezone :)

[beforeiforgetyou]

Driving home late night

Listening to jazz and thinking of

What?

Thinking of you

Thinking of love

Thinking of what kind of food I have in the fridge.

Driving home to jazz pretending I don’t got

Secrets to keep

Money to make

Obligations to meet

Wondering

Yeah I’m wondering

What’s on your mind and

Why?

Everything feels so

Deep

All the time

I swear that I’m

Trying

God knows it too

He knows that I’m

Fighting

Even if the war isn’t holy

Even if I’m on the losing side

Doomed from the start

Victim of prophecy

I’m more resilient than I thought.

Words

These are just pretty

Words

Definitions and connotations are

Up for debate

But

Still just words always

Plaguing my thoughts and

Keeping me up

Late

Late night and

I’m listening to the playlist you sent me

Thinking of

Tomorrow and

Next week

I feel like a gambler back at the casino

Hoping I’ll win big this week

Again

But then I remember that

Luck

Is just another

W-O-R-D

The world is so noisy and

Everyone talks too much

I want…

Yeah

What do you want Gil?

I want

Late nights

Jazz music

Cold beer and

You

You wrapped in satin sheets the

Color of your eyes

But

Close your eyes

Just lay there while I devour you

It could be so easy

But it’s not

It’s nuanced

Complicated

More words that don’t sum up these

Feelings

You’re the sun

Big

Radiant

Shining

Giving life to everything your rays

Touch

Me?

I’m the moon baby

A tiny little rock

Orbiting

In your galaxy

A million light years away from you

Just a speck

In your Milky Way but

It’s okay

You keep me warm

Anyways

Always

Sitting in the dark listening to

Jazz

I’m more of a classical music guy but

Something about these horns

Keeps me

Listening

Pondering

Admitting to myself that sometimes

I worry

Because what if this kind of

Love

Can’t be replicated?

What if I never find someone who makes me feel the way you do?

What if

I’ll be chasing

Ghosts

For the rest of my life?

Maybe it’s the dreams

They’ve been daunting

Haunting

This weekend

Sometimes

I look at you and

Wonder

What kind of girl is this?

Who is she when no one is

Looking?

I wonder if she knows yet

Laying in bed and listening to jazz

Someone’s playing a saxophone that

Sounds like the way

My heart feels

All the time these

Days

Speaking of days it’s

Daylight now

The music

Still playing in the background

But

Responsibilities return and

I need to get to work.

[universestreasures]

blasterdiablo​:

❝ You were able to hear all that, huh..? ❞ 

If Asaka could hear them from through the floors, then it surely meant Misaki could have very well heard the scolding through the walls too. But perhaps it was due to the Hare’s innate excellent sense of hearing..? Considering Asaka was the only one who showed up this time around, perhaps that assumption held true this time around. He recalls the other night when Misaki had heard the Hatter pass judgment on Ren’s work, remembers how she cried and was taken away by the Cards. And now he realizes how he… hasn’t seen her since.

–When he thinks of Misaki now, all he can picture is her tear-stained face as the door last shut him in.

His gaze falls to the floor around him. And he suddenly realizes the mess he was asking Asaka to walk into. But before he can feel embarrassed for not cleaning up before inviting her in, she steps inside and all at once Ren feels like he can properly breathe in the studio despite all the doors being shut. The graveyard of discarded hats and torn ribbons were the last thing on his mind for once.

There’s the quiet shuffling of his chain, the sound of metal against metal dampened by the shreds of fabric tangled around the links, as Ren makes a spot for himself next to Asaka on the floor. He picks up the damaged brim of one of the hats his father had torn pieces out of to make room for Asaka’s box of goodies. With a sigh he sets it aside. It was one of his experimental pieces, put together from scraps of other failed projects in an effort to not be so wasteful. It was patchwork in nature but the colors were cohesive enough he had thought… Looking at Asaka now, she would have been the perfect model for the blue and white checkered pattern. It’s too bad it was far beyond salvation at this point. Perhaps when he had more time on his hands he’d make her something in return for today.

For now, the boy almost looked disappointed at Asaka’s insistence on not sharing with him, but the moment he went to pout at her the sugary sweet scent coming from the box caught his attention entirely. Again his stomach protested despite himself. But the discomfort of hunger was short-lived, Ren’s face lighting up as he peered into the box. To Asaka, it may have felt insufficient for a meal, but to Ren it was almost too much!

❝ Oh, wow, Asaka! You helped make all this..? It looks great! ❞

He could hardly decide where to start. Ultimately reaching for the tart first and taking a decent bite out of it. Unsurprisingly, it tasted just as good as it looked! But as much as he wanted to scarf down the rest he hesitantly puts the now half-a-half-a tart back into the box. The strawberries did well cleanse his palate, the metallic taste in his mouth that had been bothering him was all but gone just like that. Seems he was cautiously approaching the rest of his meal after that initial bite. Not because he didn’t like it, no. It was because for some reason the task seemed almost daunting to him now. A couple days without food would do that to just about anyone though.

❝ You can’t… tomorrow, I mean. You can’t come here tomorrow. ❞ He says as he scoops up a bit of the pudding with a finger so he can give it a try before elaborating further. The chocolate was smooth and rich, and paired well with the strawberry tart he had taken a bite from earlier. Which gave him the brilliant idea to use the other half of the half a tart to use as a utensil for the rest of the pudding. ❝ Tomorrow’s the deadline for my assignment, so Hatter will be here all day. And if Hatter catches you he’ll– ❞

Ren shifts where he sits, the shackle encompassing his ankle scraping against the floor as if to remind them both of it’s presence. The Mad Hatter had made comments to Ren on a couple occasions now about how he’d turn his friends into hats themselves if he continued to be distracted by them. But he didn’t want to scare Asaka or Tetsu the way his father had tried to scare him. So he keeps that detail to himself. Knowing all that, and still risking Asaka’s company… It seemed Ren was truly growing desperate during these trying times. He deflects from finishing his sentence by bringing himself to finish off the tarte and pudding. All that remained in the box by then was the apple, but it seems to be put to better use busying his hands than filling his stomach. He figures he should save it for later anyway.

The moment he was finished eating would be it though. Their time was almost up. As short as it was the small moment they shared surely gave Ren the very much needed push to see this seemingly impossible assignment through to the end.

❝ Pass or fail… regardless of the results father will let me out after. So I’ll visit you instead! It’s on rather short notice, but it might even be possible to host a tea party. It’s been a while since Missy, and the rest of us all got together. ❞ -

At his question, she couldn’t help but frown. How could she not hear it? Sure, her hearing was probably one of the best around, but Hatter was yelling so loud surely everyone in Wonderland heard it. It makes her wonder why no one has ever called him out on his behavior. Maybe it’s because it fits in line with his role, or maybe because everyone is too afraid to. 

The Mad Hatter, the maddest of the mad, wasn’t exactly someone you wanted to make your enemy. There were rumors of what he would do if you got on his bad side. Some would say he would force you to an eternal tea party, while others said he’d use your blood to paint the roses in the Queen’s garden. Regardless of torture, everyone pretty much stayed out of his way. The only ones who could sway him were no doubt the Queen and King, and yet they didn’t exactly seem like they were doing anything about his cruelty towards his son despite his closeness with their daughter.

Misaki’s parents were kind, a rare trait from those in the their positions that Misaki no doubt inherited. However, they were strict with tradition. Everyone had to play their roles to the letter, even if Asaka knows that the Queen of Hearts has never once beheaded someone in her time as the ruler of the land. It was hypocritical if you asked her. Why force everyone to play the roles that have been passed down when there is clearly deviation? Guess when you make the rules of the game you can do as you please.

Did that mean that Ren was destined to become as twisted his father when he grew up, and there was nothing he could do about it? It was just...part of his role? 

The very thought of it made her tremble ever so slightly, Asaka thankful Ren seemed to be too occupied in his small yet appreciated meal to notice how her skin was looking pale. She couldn’t help but tighten her hand into a fist, it seeping with emotions. She felt sorry for Ren. She felt angry for Ren. She felt like what was happening to him was unfair. 

And yet...she was powerless to do anything. If she couldn’t change her own role, what makes her think she had any chance of free Ren of his? A March Hare was only good for cooking and attending tea parties. That was the scope of her role unfortunately. Well...it at least would allow her to stay by Ren’s side, considering the closeness the Hatters and Hares always had. That was the one glimmer of light in this dark fate they had all been cursed with, a fate that they or anyone else were powerless to change. 

“T-That’s okay. I’d rather not make your life harder than it already is. I’ll see you when you get out. Maybe I can even bake some treats for the party. I’m sure my father wouldn’t object to that. It is...what my role is, after all...” A tea party sounded like just what everyone needed. The stress of their training to fit the roles of their predecessors was taking it’s toll on the current generation. They were all just kids, and if you know anything about kids, they need time to well...be kids! A nice little party would be just what they all needed. 

Asaka then shifts her position ever so closer to him, her hand moving without even thinking to place it on his own. She can feel the roughness of it as she gently slides her fingers over the many cuts and bruises. It pained her to no end seeing them like this. She remembers when they were free of such things, back before Ren had ever picked up a sewing needle. Back before he was forced onto this path that clearly wasn’t making him happy...

“Ren, I’ve been...meaning to ask you this.” The hare’s voice grows softer as she looks at him, a somber expression gracing her face still. “Do you...Do you even...like making hats and gowns? Do you even...want to be the Mad Hatter when you grow up? I-If given the choice, would you...would you do something else?” 

Asaka knows asking such a thing seems pointless. They didn’t exactly have a say in the matter, but... “I’ve heard rumors in the kitchen that Misaki wants when she takes the throne...to give us the choice to choose our roles. She wants us to...be who...we want to be. I just...wanted to know how you feel about that, since...”

A wave of hesitation washes over her, as if someone will off her head for even speaking such a desire. However, when she looks at Ren smiling despite the horrific nature of his situation, it gives...it gives her the strength to say what most would deem as taboo. 

“I...I don’t really want to be the March Hare...Being a cook isn’t...what I think will make me happy. It’s...It’s fine, not terrible or anything, but...a part of me wishes I could be...something else. Like...Like a stage performer in a circus.” She smiles slightly at the idea. Circus performers didn’t have a place among the Wonderland roles, despite how some might see their world as nothing more than a big circus. The thought of performing for others and being a shining star on her own stage brought Asaka nothing but joy. Oh, how she’d love to be able to do that!

But that choice is out of her hands, and remembering that causes that brief smile to fade once again. “Do you...you understand how I feel...?”

The March Hare was so focused on this moment, having just asked burning questions she just had to use some of her last moments with Ren that night to ask, that she misses the crying sounds coming from down the hall from Misaki’s room...

~

[genshrineimpact]

universe abound

| ◆ ch.5 ⑊ high tea.

⬙⤠ masterlist ⤝⬙

◇ a/n ◇ how do writers build such intricate worlds i am literally pulling my hair rn trying to connect the dots and covering the plot holes sldkfjlsdkf no one look

"your grace-"

"[name]."

"how could i dare to speak the sacred name with this lowly tongue of mi-"

"beel."

the joy that spreads across her expression just from a single mutter of her name makes you feel a little awkward. you weren't even saying it in a pleasant tone, more of a ‘parent scolding a child’ type of tone… you used to find the cultish and worshipping tendencies of sagau romantic, but to actually receive the treatment like this… it feels a little daunting.

"that is my name, yes!"

"hey! how come she gets called by name and not me! i, for one, will gladly call you by name as much as you want!" barbatos puffs out his chest proudly, throwing you his signature wide smile. you’re still not used to this version of him - you have definitely seen this particular skin before, but you never really owned it, seeing as by that time you had other higher priorities to use your money for instead of using them to buy clothes for a fictional character.

that's so weird to think of.

"[name]? ehe, you're staring… does this appearance please you~?"

".... eh?"

"i thought you'd like it, cause the last time an outsider visited, they had this look and you sounded so excited and happy to see him... so i decided to copy them! well, with a few modifications of course~" he motions towards the crystal cores on his braids, smiling as he's recalling an old memory, "you used to laugh whenever i start chasing around the crystalflies, remember? i couldn't help but take a few, i thought you'd like it!"

you want to question so many things in that sentence. like, what did he mean by an outsider visiting? when is this last time he spoke of? what did he mean by you sounding excited and happy? and when did you ever see him chase after crystalflies? was there such an event in the game? why is he speaking as if he’s met you in person before when you've never-

a pinming cup is elegantly served in front of you with a soft clink. your eyes trail up the arm sporting bright colored geo lines to meet morax’s amber-gold eyes, and he offers you a gentle smile.

wow, he’s so beautiful up close.

"oh. i… am glad you think so, [name]."

oh shit, did you just say that outloud?!

"[name], [name], what about me??"

you palm your heated cheeks and decide to abandon your shame altogether. fuck it, if you’re going to be here for a while - which it looks like you will be - then you might as well live out your younger self’s daydreams of interacting and spoiling these ‘fictional’ characters, "you're pretty too, barbatos. and you too, beel."

if only you had your phone with you now, so you can capture the beautiful sight of raiden ei herself blushing, eyes crinkling in a smile, shyly hidden behind her palm covering her lips. on your other side, venti himself has for once quietened down, opting to beam at you with both of his palms supporting his chin, elbows leaning against the table, faint pink dusting his cheeks and a lovesick grin on his lips.

morax sits at the last open seat across from you, still wearing the same smile as before, and you wish you could screenshot this picture-perfect scene, share it online and watch as people lose their minds. because it feels like you're starting to lose your mind right this moment.

"so, [name]. though we are more than joyous that you’ve decided to return, it would be nice to have some… explanation, regarding what has been going on. and perhaps plan our next course of actions."

morax’s calming voice does nothing to quell the sudden spike in your heart rate.

explanation? they want you to explain… what exactly? if anything, you were the one who should be hoping for an explanation. you came to this world because of the game, right? you didn't want to be here in the first place…

"i… can’t."

"your grace, please rest assured, you can trust us completely-"

"i’ll be completely honest. i can't give you any explanation because i have no idea why or how is it that i am here with you right now."

your confession brings a sudden silence over the group.

this time, the anemo archon is the one who reacts first. leaning closer onto your side, eyes wide, he tries to meet your eyes, "b-but- didn't you hear our prayers? received our offerings? isn't that why you came back?"

prayers and offerings.

you think back to the notifications you received. you suppose you can call them prayers, to some extent, although you’ve never seen it as such before this. so the 'person' behind those were… the inhabitants of teyvat themselves? and the free gifts were offerings from them?

… regardless of whom those pings came from, they were the reason why you tried to open the game. so technically, you can say that barbatos is correct, right?

you were about to nod when morax's question intercepted the motion, a slight frown forming between his eyebrows as he observes your expression.

"[name], are you aware of the state of teyvat right now?"

the geo archon’s question triggers a flutter of scenery that you’ve seen through the led screen of your device. they flash before your eyes and you briefly feel the hot lead of guilt filling your stomach. that was… what, months ago? a year? time usually passes faster in the game than in real life, but is that really the case here? because if so, you don't really want to know how the current situation is.

you decide there's no point in lying, so you nod, "just the… gist of it. i know that things aren't… good."

"... forgive me if this sounds intrusive, however, i must ask - where have you been prior to today, [name]? we haven't seen you in person ever since…. ever since you ascended celestia," he sounded… pained, when he says this, and you observe his neutral facade in confusion.

not ‘ascended to celestia’, but ‘ascended celestia’ itself? you might not remember all the lores anymore, but you could've sworn nothing mentioned that.

but then again, the original lore never mentioned the existence of a divine creator or anything pointing to such a being.

"i… i’m not…. i don’t……."

the words are tethering at the tip of your tongue, but something holds them back from spilling out. a dark thought crosses your mind, the possibility making you freeze in fear for a second.

so far, you only know that the game - or whoever it is - that's responsible for bringing you here, actually went through with it because it thinks that you can save this world, in one way or another. knowing this, you can certainly choose to go along with this whole charade; to just play your part and maybe if you're lucky you’ll get some kind of more concrete instructions on what exactly it is that you're supposed to do to ‘save teyvat’. but…

on the chance that it is mistaken, and you're not this all-divine being, the moment the real one arrives, what will become of you?

will you be tossed aside? burned at the stake? stoned to death? electrified into a crisp by beelzebul? stabbed through morax's spear? tossed down starsnatch cliff by barbatos?

you shudder. reading about those 'bad ends' in fiction works was one hell of an experience in itself, but having the possibility of those events actually happening to you is enough to make you rethink your whole plan of action. there's no guarantee that these three will believe you and there's also a possibility that they'll turn back on you the moment you tell them the truth. but lying to them just feels… wrong. and just as risky.

"before that… first, answer me this. how do you know that i'm…. well… me, and not just some… impostor… who's pretending to be the creator?"

the three archons look as if you've just slapped them right on their face. flabbergasted and looking borderline offended, morax - as expected - is the first to compose himself, and he scrambles to pick his words carefully.

"how? but… how could we not? we could never forget your voice, your grace. just as how crystalflies would gather around areas abundant with the energy of their respective elemental types, our very being always yearns to be in your very presence. it is simply the law of nature."

"the aforesaid. there is no question that you’re the divine creator. even i who have not met you directly before this occasion knows that you are, without a doubt, the one who has been guiding me all these times," beel explains with conviction, purple eyes crackling with electro, "please rest assured, if such a sinful being dare to appear in front of your eyes, i will strike it down at once and vaporize them to dust."

her words bring a certain scene at tenshukaku to mind, and you shudder. your silence only deepens the furrows on the two gods' foreheads, and they glance at each other in silence, wondering if they had somehow aggrieved you with their words. in an attempt to do damage control, barbatos inches his hand towards your side of the table and speaks to you in a gentle tone.

"[name]... your appearance may change and you may look like just a normal human being, but the whole teyvat will always recognize you as its master. and that includes its people - meaning, us! you are, undoubtedly, the one and only creator of this teyvat. this barbatos guarantees it! so… so, please, don't look so scared of us, okay?"

your eyes flick between the anemo archon and your steaming cup of tea as your brain tries to come up with a reply. you'd never pegged him of all people to be as observant as he is now… or perhaps your expressions aren't as controlled as you thought.

all this thinking and speculation exhausts you. already, you can feel a tightness at both sides of your head, a warning sign of an incoming stress headache. with a loud sigh, you slump backward onto your chair, hands raised in a surrendering motion.

"fine. i'll tell you what happened from my perspective… with one condition. i want you all to promise me. me, not as your 'god' or 'creator' or any 'divine being', but as… a friend. promise me that whatever happens in the future, you won't hurt me."

"hurt you?! my liege…," the dark purple-haired god shrinks on her seat when you give her a stern look following her outburst. meanwhile, the other two look just as petrified at the prospect of you asking them to swear that they won't do such sacrilegious action.

it finally dawns on them that you do not trust them.

".... very well. if it will ease your heart, as the god of contracts, i shall oversee this promise to ensure that it is held. a binding contract between us and a single individual - [name]."

you can feel some tension leave your body at morax's declaration. in your frazzled state, it seems that you have forgotten about that option. contracts - yes, that could come in handy, you'll have to remember it. you'd like to believe that based on his lore and character, morax would never break a contract, especially the ones he has set personally.

so for now, you should be safe…

"great. now… it's up to you to believe me or not. but i really hope you do and won't think that i'm being delusional, or something."

and so, you began your story. starting from the very beginning. your identity, your life back on earth (though you skipped telling them a lot of things there, because you don't have the energy nor memory capacity to narrate all the years you've lived in - how the hell does morax remember all his 6000 years of life??), how you found out about genshin and started playing it (it took a while to explain this because you can see the confusion in their faces whenever you said certain words like 'video game' or 'server'), how years passed and how it was supposed to be terminated but somehow only you could still access it, how you then started receiving the strange notifications…

you're fully aware that it isn't the wisest decision to lay all your cards on the table like this, but as you glance up at them in between words and find them looking back at you so intently, as if they're hanging on to every single one of your words… it warms your heart and pushes you to tell them the whole truth.

there's a glimmer of recognition in morax's eyes as you tell him about your visit to liyue. he says nothing and lets you continue talking, but there's a solemn smile that tugs on his expression when you stutter on your words, the sadness of seeing liyue so broken evident in your tone. 

you're actually talking to them.

they're actually able to hear you.

this used to be what your younger self wished for the most. you remember it well. the longing to be able to converse and interact with them, to experience teyvat in all its entirety. maybe if this whole thing happened then, you would have eagerly taken the mantle of the 'divine creator' without as much thought.

you're supposed to be all grown up now, but it seems like that yearning never truly left you. perhaps once you've passed a certain treshold, age is truly just that, a meaningless number that matters little, in the grand scheme of things.

by the time you finish, your throat is dry and the tea has gone cold. the four of you fall into silence, each of you with your own thoughts. you sigh and sip on the now-cold tea, silently waving your hand when morax notices the state of your drink and tries to stand, probably to brew you a fresh batch. he sits back obediently and regards you with a calm gaze.

"i understand now that this must be very confusing to you. we've burdened you without knowing. please accept our apologies."

you head shakes automatically and relief floods your veins, creating a small grin on your lips, "you didn't know. it's fine. so you… believe me? you don't think i'm crazy?"

"of course. this explains your hesitance and… aloofness."

"ahaha… sorry about that…"

"i'm sad that you don't remember the older times, but i believe you, [name]!" barbatos smiles, though it's not as bright as his previous ones.

"i... share the same sentiment," beelzebul fixes her gaze on you, "it appears there are some mysteries that need to be solved regarding this matter. but if i may be so insolent as to suggest, i think the matter of teyvat is more of a priority at this moment."

you understand what she meant by her words immediately, and a hopeless sigh left you.

"but i don't know what i'm supposed to do. do you really believe that i can save a whole world, when i've been living a normal life so far?" you raise your eyebrows at her, arms crossing loosely on the table as you lean forward onto it, "from my perspective at the moment, i'm powerless."

beel doesn't look at all convinced, but it was morax who speaks for her, his chin lightly resting on his other fingers which are curled underneath, as his index slowly taps onto the corner of his lips.

"if i may suggest a theory… perhaps you’ve just yet to regain back all of your powers upon setting your feet back into teyvat."

"but what if i don't have my powers anymore? or any powers whatsoever in the first place?"

"oh, but you certainly do. we're here in your abode, are we not?" he chuckles, eyes soft as his voice takes a nostalgic tone, "the sub-space creation was something you taught me a long time ago. this particular one was created by yourself. in fact, i've had the honor of visiting it quite a few times in the past, along with barbatos and a few others, to partake in various festivities hosted by yours truly…….. however, as i was saying, the sub-space needs to feed from the owner's power to continue to exist. so the fact that we're able to converse like this here…"

"aha! this realm itself is proof that you do have your powers!" barbatos exclaims, snapping his fingers in excitement and turning towards you as if waiting for your praise. across from him, beelzebul lightly pouts, and you have an inkling she's somehow upset that she's the only one who hasn't had the chance to meet you and be involved with whatever festivities morax talked about within this realm, a long time ago...

"i… i see. i didn't know that," you scratch your cheek and look down contemplatively at your crossed arms, "then… do you have any suggestions on how to… maybe regain my power? or see if it really is my power?"

"i believe getting reacquainted to teyvat itself should help. even i am not privy to the inner workings of your power, so i do not know much about it. but what i do know is that you're the one who initiates us as allogenes and you have a strong connection with teyvat, with it being your first ever creation."

you nod, knowing the implications behind his words and the pleading looks from the two sitting by your sides. they want you to visit teyvat. in the end, it all comes down to that.

"okay. i'll do it. mond, liyue, inazuma, sumeru, snezhnaya, natlan, fontaine - all seven of them, i'll go and hopefully we can figure out something."

suddenly, you blink and cast your gaze toward all three of them.

"by the way… where are the other four archons?"

a heavy silence blankets over the previously light atmosphere. another shiver travels up your spine upon seeing the solemn expressions of your beloved characters.

"[name]... though this is a regretful outcome, please understand that none of us wish for you to take the blame for it."

morax materializes a pouch sewn from some sort of intricate-looking cloth and unties the string keeping its contents from spilling, before letting them fall onto the table.

you can't help the horrified gasp that escapes your lips at the sight of four gnosis, each bearing different colors and yet all missing its luster.

green, red, and two shades of blue.

dendro, pyro, hydro and cryo.

your head spins.

"but," you barely manage to whisper; it feels like cotton is rapidly stuffing your lungs as you speak, "wh-what of the… their nations, their people-"

"i’m afraid…"

".... they’ve all been destroyed."

© genshrineimpact | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @paintingsofdragonspine | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies

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[dulcewrites]

Despite My Better Judgement

Summary: Your eccentric but kind hearted best friend tasks you with the duty of throwing “the best bachelorette party ever” in Wyoming of all places. An unexpected night with a brooding cowboy happens. (1.3k words)

Paring: Rhett Abbott x fem!reader (only thing mentioned is clothing)

Warnings: 18+ content, PIV (don’t interact if you’re a minor please and thank you), reader being insecure

A/N: This is my first work on my side writing blog. My first one, a top gun fic, is on my main blog. I think I’m gonna post all my ideas/writing on here. This is also my first time doing a reader insert. I also just want to say I see all of “my” characters as black (I plan on writing more stuff that outrightly depicts that) but anyone can read this. I think it is important for fellow black writers/writers of color to get support and have a space. Anyways I hope you guys like it. Please like, reblog, follow❤️

You are not boring nor stiff; you’re measured and pensive, two separate concepts. So when your best friend hints that her bachelorette party should be completely different from the one you had been planning, you can’t help but feel a spike anxious energy shiver up your spine.

Nature? Horses? Glam camping? Taking several born and raised city women (yourself included) to the backwoods of some Midwestern dude ranch was not for the faint hearted. But here you are are, adorned in a sparkly black cowboy hat and your best mini dress. Despite the lack of prep time and the initial shock of the idea, you’re actually having a good time.

“We need to get you laid,” Melody, the bride to be, giggles over the noise of the crowded bar. She fixes her white hat which stands out amongst the black ones of the rest of the bridal party.

“I thought this was a celebration of you becoming an honest woman. Not a plan to get someone to fuck me,” you down the rest your drink with a grimace.

Yeah it had been… some time. But it’s by choice!

“Why not both,” says Melody with a shrug as her eyes start dancing across the bar. “One night won’t kill you. God forbid you might actually meet someone you like.”

You roll your eyes. What’s the point of meeting someone kilometers away from your home base? Especially this late in the trip. Today was the second to last full day you and girls has in Wyoming. Plus the idea of going up to some guy and flirting was daunting.. even after the free drinks you’ve been giving (curtesy of nice patrons seeing the bridal party attire).

“I’m having a good time with just you guys. I mean how beautiful was the horse trail today,” You say, trying to change the subject quickly.

“That’s too bad you’re not up for it… sad eyes over there has been eyeing you for a minute,” Sasha chimes in, half nodding to the bar area to the left of table.

You find yourself sitting a little straighter, straining your neck to the left trying to discretely see what Sasha is talking about.

You make not do subtle eye contact with melancholy cerulean blue eyes slightly hidden by a big brown cowboy hat. You take in the boyish good looks and an obnoxious belt buckle. The staring is disrupted by him tipping his hat with a small smile.

Oh…

Melody let’s out a bit a of squeal and hits your arm.

“He’s cute. I recognize him from the rodeo we went to yesterday!"

She pats your arm encouragingly. You open your mouth, then close it. You know better than to try that. With a wave of your hand, you shut that down quickly.

After drinking some water after your drinks, you and Sasha excuse yourselves from the group to go to the bathroom.

“Maybe it’s tequila shots making me sappy but I wish you saw yourself the way others do,” Sasha sighs quietly as you both touch up your makeup.

You don’t really know how to respond to that. It’s not a new topic between you and friends. Your confidence is something you’re working on, but you still have moments where self-doubt can be all consuming. You squeeze Sasha’s hand hoping she realizes how much you appreciate her. How much appreciate all the girls, and this trip.

Her words continue to resonate in your head as you two leave the bathroom. Why wouldn't some that attractive be into you? You're a catch.

"I'm gonna go to the bar. Get a.... drink," you announce to the table. Melody raises an eyebrow with the knowing smile.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea as well," she says as fixes your hair after you take your hat off, and picks a piece of glitter from your dress.

"There! Go get em tiger!"

While you're walking over, you remember why you don't do this. Your stomach feels like it is gonna fall out of your ass when you sit down at the stool next to the handsome cowboy. How do you even start a conversation?

You are taken out of your thoughts quickly.

"Nice boots," his voice is smooth and soft despite the bustling energy of the bar.

Instinctively, you look down at the black heeled cowboy boots you have on. Maybe he finds the obnoxious but albeit cute bedazzled MOH on the side endearing.

"Thanks. Nice belt?" it comes out more like a question than you intended. He smile grows as he laughs.

"Appreciate it sweetheart. I'm Rhett"

He holds his drink out as a toast and you clank your drink with his as you tell him your name.

There's a period of silence as you contemplate what you're about to do next. You're in a state you've never been to, talking to a hot guy you've never met before tonight, about to do something you never do. First time for everything. You lean over trying to avoid his hat, lowering your voice to a whisper

"I'm gonna go to restroom. Maybe in a couple minutes you can come give me a hand with my dress?"

You get up before he can even reply. Your body feels hot as you walk to the crowed unisex bathroom, praying its empty.

As you wait in the cramped bathroom, it hits you that you just positioned a guy you don't know to come and fuck you. And despite how you're wired, instead of being embarrassed, you hope he gets the hint.

The pacing around the tiny bathroom is interrupted by Rhett coming in and locking the door behind him. His hat is gone, revealing longish dark hair.

He walks over slowly, pressing you against the wall.

"This is okay right?"

Hands working their way to your waist, and you answer his question by putting one hand on the back of his neck and pulling him down to a sloppy kiss.

He groans in your mouth as one of his hand leaves your waist and squeezes your ass. His large, rough hand works it way under your dress. Long fingers tug on your underwear to the ride before rubbing your wet folds. You mutter a curse against his lips.

As his lips work down you neck, you start fiddling with his huge belt; distracted as he push one finger inside of you. You finally get inside his jeans, stroking him through his boxers. Rhett's eyes flutter at your actions.

"Do you have a condom?" you ask as your hips buck against his hand rubbing it against for clit.

You whine when he pulls his finger out, putting it in his mouth a hum. He fishes about condom out of his wallet then pushes down his jeans and boxers.

"Turn around"

A shiver runs up your spine at his voice. Authoritative and warm. You turn around, sticking your ass out in anticipation. There's light shuffling before you feel his tip poking at your wet cunt.

Rhett bottoms out inside of you as you both let out satisfied sighs. He lets you adjust to the way he stretches you out before fucking into you.

He pins one hand behind your back as you hold onto the wall with the other. All that takes over your brain is the sound of him going in and out you, and the lewd moans you both are making. You desperately push back against his thrust.

"Fuck you take me so well"

The warm feeling in the pit of your stomach grows; you come with with a cry of his name. He continues to thrust into you as you ride out the warmth of your orgasm.

Rhett lets go of your wrist, bringing both hands to your waist. He comes with your ass flush to him.

You feel like your body is floating as your stand up straighter. You feel a kiss on your shoulder, and turn around to his lips back on yours. The kiss is sweet.

"We should probably stop hogging the bathroom," you say with a smile against his lips.

You both get cleaned up in a tranquil silence. It takes you by surprise when Rhett turns to you with a shy smile.

"Ummm, do you think I could see you tomorrow?"

Well, going against your better judgement went well once... what's one more time.

[baroquebucky]

idk if you’re taking requests but if you are could i get a loki one shot where the reader is super shy and quiet and the only person at the tower she really talks to is natasha but the others have tried and failed. but eventually loki comes to the tower and he gets her to trust him and she opens up to him?? or something along those lines lol i’m just in desperate need of some loki fluff🥺 also i absolutely adore your writing 🥰💓

a/n: yup yup ! i don’t write for loki much so i hope this isn’t too out of character !!

in which loki manages to break down your walls, magic free

word count: 2k

masterlist

You sat next to Natasha, quiet as the others laughed at the movie. You leaned over making a small comment to Natasha causing her to burst out laughing, the other looking over to see what had happened.

“tell them!” Natasha nudged you and you shook your head, looking at your hands as natasha repeated your comment, everyone bustling out into a fit of laughter.

“y/n is the funniest person here nobody can change my mind” Tony piped up, smiling at you as your face burned.

The rest of the night went smoothly, keeping to yourself and whispering to natasha, making her giggle.

“you really should try talking to the other y/n, they love you” nat urged you, walking to your rooms to settle in for the night. You shook your head, heart racing at the idea.

“no, i mean they seem nice it’s just i don’t know i get so nervous i don’t wanna make a fool out of myself and plus they’re so intimidating” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders as you stopped at your room.

“you know you’re an avenger too right?” Nat laughed as you rolled your eyes, waving her off and saying goodnight.

Morning rolled around soon enough and you walked out, steve and Sam saying good morning and you smiled at them, rushing to make a bowl fo cereal and sitting a couple seats away from them.

“so y/n what are you gonna do today?” Steve smiled, trying to make conversation with you.

You thought for a bit before answering, “not much, just train maybe uh, i might go shopping with nat later” you replied, ending the conversation and finishing up your food.

You excused yourself before they could say anything else.

“you know thor is brining his brother today” sam called out and you looked at him confused.

“battle of New York one?” You questioned and he nodded, you raised your brows in surprise.

“he’s good now, nice guy i think” steve added, not wanting to worry you. You only nodded your head and left the kitchen, going to train for the rest of the morning.

“is everybody here?” Thor boomed, a smile on his face as his brother stood next to him, arms crossed across his chest.

“where is y/n? Will she be joining us?” Thor questioned, slightly upset you weren’t there.

“I’ll get her she’s probably sleeping or something” Natasha smiled, heading to your room.

She knocked on your door, letting herself in after a couple seconds and found you passed out on your bed, a book next to your head.

Shaking you gently she woke you up, “y/n, wake up thor brought his brother Cmon” she spoke quietly as you stirred awake.

“what? what time is it?” you questioned, yawning and rubbing your eyes, looking around for a bit.

“3:12, you knocked out after our session this morning” she smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“told you i stayed up late” you defended, getting up and putting on some socks.

Natasha was in a t shirt and some sweats, so you figured your t shirt and shorts weren’t too bad. Surely the rest of the team was dressed casually too.

You entered the living room, still half asleep following Natasha, waving hi to everybody.

“now that everyone is here, this is loki, my brother! he’s a good guy now and since we’re gonna be splitting time between here and Asgard i figured a proper introduction was over due” Thor beamed at everyone.

“well hi loki, nice to uh- meet you, again” steve spoke up, trying to get the others to say hi.

“mm a pleasure” loki gave him a tight smile, you rolled your eyes at his tone. You finally looked at him, he was dressed in an all black suit and dress shoes, you scoffed at his outfit.

“you always dress like that?” You spoke up, upset that he had been rude to steve. Everyone’s eyes went wide, turning to face you and loki looked shocked.

“and you are?” Loki shot back, checking you out.

“y/n, and you should be nicer” you quipped, narrowing your eyes at him. Natasha smirked at loki, knowing how sassy you could be after a nap.

“you’ve got a quick wit, i like that” loki smiled and you rolled your eyes, shifting your weight onto your other leg.

As everyone else warmed up loki you stayed an arms length away, only speaking up when someone talked directly to you.

You slowly moved away from the group, turning to sneak away to your room. A smile on your face as you turned around, only to bump into someone’s chest.

“leaving my welcome party so soon, love?” Loki smiled as you stumbled back, eyes widening.

“how- you were just over there?” You gawked, looking back where you saw another loki sitting and chatting with the others.

“magic, did they not tell you about me darling?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

“no yeah they did, just didn’t pay much mind is all” you smiled, crossing your arms across your chest.

“you know, they didn’t tell me much about you, why’s that?” Loki asked, leaning against the wall and you fiddlers with your fingers.

“don’t really talk to them much, i- uh I’m pretty reserved” you spoke, a wave of realization washing over you as you fully woke up.

“don’t seem that shy to me” he smirked and you shook your head.

“no i was just really tired I’m so sorry I’m usually not like that I’m so sorry oh god” you spoke, fumbling over your words as your face grew hot from embarrassment.

“don’t apologize, i liked it” he smiled, pushing himself off the wall and moving so the oath to your room was no longer blocked.

“cant wait to see you around y/n” he spoke, letting you walk past him, biting your lip to contain your smile.

And you sure did see him around, telling him good morning when he sat himself next to you during breakfast, sparring with him when he suggested it after walking into the gym.

Loki found himself gravitating towards you, wanting to know everything about you, your favorite color, your middle name, your biggest fears. He wanted to know you.

He was persistent, constantly talking to you and spending time with you, he found himself doing things he never thought he would just to spend time with you. It’s how he was in his current predicament.

“okay just don’t smile or else it’ll crack” you replied, finishing brushing the green face mask on him, letting him use one of your head bands, one with pink fluffy bunny ears (he chose it himself).

“how can i not smile when the most beautiful person in all the nine realms is right here” he replied, making you roll your eyes.

You settled into you before, scooting next to him and turning on your favorite show. Both of you watching attentively as your masks dried.

“can i ask you something?” Loki spoke suddenly, you turned to look at him, a small hum signaling to continue.

“why don’t you talk to the others?” He asked softly, taking your hand in his to comfort you.

You let a couple moments pass to gather your thoughts, finally speaking up.

“they’re just really intimidating to me, i mean i grew up admiring steve and the other have saved the world countless times, I’ve helped them once but i didn’t even play that big of a role, it’s just really daunting you know?” He looked at the way your fingers intertwined and held back a smile.

“how come you weren’t scared to talk to me?” you looked at him, laughing softly.

“oh no i was scared shitless, you just wouldn’t leave me alone so i really had no choice” you replied, looking at your hands connected.

“is that how Natasha got close to you?”

You nodded, remembering the way she pestered you until you two became the best of friends, never leaving each other’s side for a whole week.

“well, i hope you know that I’m not going anywhere” he spoke, moving to face you. Reluctantly, you looked at him, tension thick in the air.

“what makes you so sure?” You asked, looking into his eyes.

Both of you leaned in a little, your breath hitched in your throat as you leaned closer, and closer, and-

ding! ding! ding!

Both of you jumped away at the sound of the alarm, clearing your throats and moving to wash the face mask off.

After you had both washed off the mask you headed back to your bed, sitting down with some space between your bodies. The sound of the show filling the room, neither one of you saying anything.

“what do-”

“why do-”

You both quieted at the sound of the others voice, laughing a little as you both stopped. He motioned for you to continue.

“what do you think about me?” You asked, fiddling with your fingers and picking at your nails, glancing at him for a second before focusing back to on your fingers.

“i think” he trailed off, scooting closer to you, “that you are one of the most amazing people I’ve met, that you are kind, funny and exciting” he finished, your thighs touching as you looked up at him.

“really?” you whispered, dizzy from how close the two of you were.

“absolutely.”

“what were you gonna say?” you asked, giving him a small smile before focusing on the tv show.

“why are you so sure that I’m gonna leave?” He questioned, eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes.

“i- well i never open up to people so they always just leave” you replied, furrowing your eyebrows before continuing.

“when i was in high school and such i used to be really outgoing and loud, everyone would tell me to be quiet when i got excited so i just kinda stopped altogether, no one complained much then” you laughed dryly, remembering the way your friends would get annoyed at how bubbly you were.

“they all left me after i stopped being loud, said i was boring.”

Loki felt his heart fall in his chest, he was angry at you past friends, but he was sad that you had changed so much for people who didn’t appreciate you.

“darling, look at me” he spoke softly, eyes meeting yours.

“i promise you that no one here thinks you are too much, i mean we have that falcon guy and spider boy, i can assure you they won’t tell you to tone it down” he reassured you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“how about we make a deal” loki smirked and you looked at him with narrow eyes.

“what kind of deal” you asked, suspicious of what he would propose.

“you try to come out of your shell more, and I’ll be nicer to the rest of the team” he stated simply, smiling at the way you thought about his deal, he could almost see the gears turning in your head.

“deal” you smiled, turning to look at him and extending you hand out.

He took your hand and pulled you to him, stopping you centimeters away from his face.

“may i?” He asked, eyes focused on your lips.

“yeah” you whispered breathlessly, crashing your lips onto his.

You both pulled away, a smile on your faces, you laughed at the way he immediately pulled you in for more.

You and Loki left your room not long after, knowing the team would be out and about despite it being almost 12 am.

“hi guys” steve smiled and you returned it, walking at bit faster before loki stopped you.

“remember our deal?” he whispered and you internally groaned, nodding and walking over to steve, heart pounding in your chest.

“hi Steve how has your day been?” You smiled, steve was taken back but quickly replied, easily falling into conversation with you.

Loki watched from a far, a smile on his face as you laughed, making conversation with the super soldier. Natasha stood next the Norse god, a smile on her face.

“Glad you could get her out of her shell” she smiled, eyes settling on you talking with Steve and Sam who had joined in.

“she just needed an extra push” Loki smiled, excited to see you become who you really were. Natasha felt her heart grow, she couldn’t wait for the team to appreciate you for who you always have been.