#added a bit of colours too- i am not good with words as thank yous. but i hope the sentiment comes across in the art for your request

[averlym]

hi hi hi! not sure if youre still taking requests but.. could i get some parrward? I adore your art style and im so glad youve been alive and active again!! I remember I found your acc back in 2019-2020 and I got curious looking at my old acc and I had SO many of your posts liked- and here we are now! Hope life is treating you well ! :)

hihihi!!! some parrward for you <33 i hope life is treating you well too!

[buckys-little-belle]

Hi!! I love your story’s and am always looking for little and daddy Bucky story’s!! I was wondering if you could do insecure reader who’s bigger. She has bigger thighs a bigger tummy and face. Could you do reader is scared to sit on buckys lap or for him to pick her up and carry her around the house. She’s too scared she’s heavy and will crush him and his legs. or that he will drop her because she’s too big. She also never cuddles and sleeps with him in his room always sleeping in her room after he puts her to bed because she’s scared about her breathing or how she sleeps.

Bucky gets her to tell him why and then comfort. Just fluff fluff fluff. If your not comfortable writing this I totally understand!!! If you do could you ad paci use? Thank you!!! Sorry for the rambling…

Strongest Man Alive

Bucky Barnes x Plus Sized!Little!Reader (She/Her Pronouns Used)

Notes - This is not my best work, and has been in my drafts for MONTHS, it's something cute, and a little angsty at the beginning, but it does get super fluffy at the end. It's a little bit different than my usual writting style, so I apologize for that, but I do hope you like it and if not I'm so sorry! I hope I did this ask justice, and I hope everyone is having a good week!!! <3

Warnings - Talks of reader being self conscious for being 'bigger', kept very vague as she uses the words "heavy" and "squishy" to describe her body type instead of more concrete descriptions, the use of a pacifier is very brief as it's something I'm not used to writing, though I would be willing to continue, mentions of reader eating food "snacks" and "sandwich" though never specified, FLUFF at the end, but there is a moment of angst, I DON'T KNOW IF THIS IS A COHEARANT STORY, it's from the drafts and I gave it a once over and I think it's 'good enough' so I apologize if it's terrible <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

Y/n often spent their time at the Avengers tower sitting, standing, lingering around Bucky Barnes. It wasn't on purpose, the man just seemed to be the other half of some magnet imbedded deep in Y/n's heart. He just had some ability to pull her towards him.

Maybe it was the way he cut her sandwiches into perfect triangles, or the way his hand always found hers when she got scared. Maybe it was the way he seemed to be reserved around anyone but her that made her feel so connected to him.

He never sulked but always seemed to walk around with a frown stuck on his face, only ever changing it to a smile when she walked by his office or stopped by his room.

As much as Y/n felt like she was pulled to him, Bucky felt it multiplied by 100. His hands always aching to hold hers, his chest always feeling heavy when he began to think about her needing something and him not being around to help her.

The whole tower knew about Y/n's regression. Wanda and Peter often joined in, hanging out in little space and colouring in books Tony had provided, watching whatever new animated movie had just come out and sleeping over in makeshift tents in the living room.

Often other Avengers would help supervise activities, Steve loved playing action fighters in the common areas, Nat loved cuddle puddle on the couch, and Thor was always ready for a park day. Bucky on the other hand liked to stay in the shadows, buying stickers for the group of littles, making them lunch and dropping it off.

Bucky only stuck around if Y/n asked him to hang out with her. "Bucky can you hold my hand?" She had asked him when at the park, he of course grabbed her hand and helped her up the jungle gym.

"Bucky can you open this please?" She had whispered during a movie, her baggie full of snacks too difficult to manage on her own. He opened the baggie and held it in his own grasp, handing her a piece of candy anytime she had finished the previous one.

"Bucky will you colour with me?" She had yelled her ask one day when he was passing by the kitchen, Y/n sat at the island with markers scattered across the marble. He silently sat down and diligently coloured the page she had given him, helping her chase markers that had fallen.

He knew she was comfortable asking for what she wanted, and he knew she wasn't afraid of him ... so, it made his chest tighten every time she asked him to grab something from the top shelf instead of asking to be lifted like Wanda and Peter often asked.

He also felt off every time a little would come running out of their room after a nightmare, rushing into someone's room for a cuddle, yet Y/n's door never opened and neither did his.

Bucky was sure it was his fault she didn't seek him out for cuddles, he thought he had done something wrong when she never asked for a hug. Was it his arm? Was she scared he would turn on her? He couldn't figure it out.

That is until he realised she never asked anyone for a cuddle, or a hug. Nat, Wanda, and Peter would be all comfy on the couch and Y/n would be sat on the chair, a small frown on her face yet she never tried to find a spot next to her friends. And when she scraped her knee on the playground she declined Thor's offer of a "healing" hug.

"Y/n?" His voice was quiet but direct as he called out into the playroom, Y/n sat on the softly coloured rug, her stuffed animals scattered about.

"Hi Bucky!" She smiled, her pacifier tumbling out of her mouth and onto the ground.

"Hi." He sat down across from her, quickly pocketing the fallen pacifier before sought out the, now, dirty thing. "What are you playing?" His hands brushed a stuffed teddy, Y/n tilting her head in confusion as she looked around her.

"'m just dressen 'm up." She smiled at him, grabbing a stuffed unicorn and brushing it's fur back into place, shuffling closer to Bucky as she gathered a few other stuffed animals.

The moment her knees hit his she shifted back, so Bucky shifted his towards her again. Like clockwork she moved and left a small gap between them. "Y/n?"

"Mhm." She looked back at him, her smile one he could easily read through.

"Am I scary?" He asked calmly, not once loosing eye contact as she shook her head 'no'. "Do I smell?" He asked, this time with a laugh.

"No!" She giggled.

"Then why do you run every time I touch you." Instead of answering she bowed her head, hands running over the stuffed animal anxiously. "Why don't you hug Wanda or Peter?" He was worried that all the questions would make her want to run, but as she huffed and leaned into his space slightly he continued. "I know Thor was pretty sad when you declined his hug the other day." That one wasn't a lie, the man had gone on a rant about how he thought he had done something wrong, how he was sure Y/n hated him.

"I jus', I don' want them t' be mad." She admitted, huffing at the end of her sentence. "'m jus', 'm heavy, an' squishy. Wanda and Pete aren't heavy an' squishy." She admitted, eyes locked on the wall, the stuffed unicorn held a little closer to her body.

"What do you mean Baby?" Bucky asked, confused as to what she was alluding to.

"It's harder t' pick me up." She finally looked back at him, tears beginning to gather along her waterline. "And cuddling wif me wouldn' be th' same." She shrugged, trying to play it off like she wasn't bothered by her own words.

The tightness in Bucky's chest didn't ease up with his answer, his worry only growing. He had hoped it was an easy thing to fix, yet knowing Y/n didn't hug her friends, or him, because she felt too big made him hurt. "Baby," He began, not giving Y/n a second to doubt him, he picked her up and sat her in his lap. "you aren't 'too heavy' to pick up." He hated how quickly she curled into his chest, how clear it was that she was missing human connection. "I'm the strongest man alive, and you saying that you're too heavy is going to bruise my ego a bit, Baby." They both laughed, a few of Y/n's tears hitting the fabric of Bucky's shirt.

"I thought Steve was th' strongest man alive?"

"I let him win when we arm wrestle." Bucky admitted, causing Y/n to break out into a fit of giggles.

"'m gonna tell him!" She stood up, bolting for the door.

"Oh no you don't!" Bucky ran after her, lifting her off her feet in the middle of the hallway, Y/n pausing with a gasp, bracing for the two of them to fall, yet laughing along with Bucky as jostled her around, threatening to take her new colouring page off the fridge if she told anyone his secret.

After a pinky promise and some juice Y/n began to trust Bucky a little bit more. She let him pick her up at the playground, and gave him a hug before bed every night. She still worried her hugs were 'bad', that maybe no one would want to hug her because she wasn't 'little' but Bucky never once complained, instead asking for hugs in the morning too.

It took her a while to truly trust that Bucky wasn't lying when he said his back didn't hurt after picking her up, but eventually she became comfortable enough to run and jump into his arms, something she had always dreamed of doing.

It wasn't until a month later that Bucky woke up at 4 am to the sound of Y/n's hurried footsteps rushing to his door. Light creeping in from the opened door she didn't close as she ran to his bed. The sound of soft cries and whispers of "Nightmare" filling the usually quiet space.

Instead of letting her think too much about how she 'should' be cuddling, Bucky just scooped her up and tucked her into his bed, letting her know he'd protect her, and her stuffed animal. He liked having her in his room, it made him feel at ease knowing she was close.

After a few months of staying in Bucky's room, Y/n began to get out of her shell a bit more, hugging Wanda and Peter, and eventually accepting Thor's 'healing' hugs. She finally joined in during the weekly cuddle puddle, laughing along side Nat and her friends as they all got cozy on the couch. And for the first time ever she let someone else, the second strongest man alive, Steve Rogers pick her up. A pride filled movement the man would never forget.

Even though it took her a little longer than everyone else to be comfortable hugging and snuggling, she was happy to finally be apart of the group in ways she wasn't before. Bucky, the man who still often stayed in the shadows, helping from a distance, couldn't help but feel a little lighter every time he saw his girl get over her worries, knowing if anything got to be 'too much' she'd come running to him.

[seconds-over-first]

Saw your post and I have a few thinky thoughts about 141 x reader!

How about

Gaz x reader - in a supposed-to-be-secret relationship, but when reader gets hurt in the field it all gets a bit...too...obvious. angst or fluff, your call!

A/N: I no idea what I wrote—I am going off of 4 hours of sleep in about 2 days 🫠 Blacked out but here ye go! Thank you so much for requesting, it is such a good idea 🫶 I mean it tho when I say I have no idea what I just wrote. I am sorry. Pls lemme know if you want it rewritten or have a pt. 2 added.

pairings: implied!Gaz x gn!reader

warnings: canon typical violence

Ringing ears were never a good thing meant for the field. It meant the loss of a crucial sense—the ability to hear the subtle shift of earth under boots, or the click of a weapon in some hidden valley between trees or buildings. The headache that came with it, and the hot trickle of crimson kissing the earlobe, were a vulnerability. A weakness. A gap in defence.

It cost defence to be injured on the field. A few precious seconds that could either make or break a mission. Make or break a soldier.

Gaz was lucky to only have a bell sounding in his head. A few seconds of dazed stumbling over blown gravel. He needed his comms to work, and he needed his gun.

The world spun uncomfortably as he vaguely managed to bring a weak hand to his ear, the distant voice coming in through the channel of his captain. The sergeant winced as he checked in—consciousness wading through syrup with a slurry of words that likely came out unintelligible. But he was alive, and alive was enough.

He looked around, squinting through cracked and tinted frames, fixing his hat onto his head as he shouldered his gun. The skeleton of a burning vehicle they’d been approaching, engulfed in angry, hot flames. Gravel and burning, dead grass blown out into a wide radius. Whoever’s rigged the damn thing knew what they were doing.

Gaz looked around, stumbling forward as he mumbled into his comms to ease his captain’s migraine-inducing fussing. He’d quip back with something witty if only he could see straight. But his gaze only landed after a moment down to his feet, which swam through a smoky, hazy kaleidoscope of stars. Though the stabbing pain in the back of his head was nothing compared to the drop of his gut when he came to realise a painfully familiar hat that he knew to be yours.

Memory flooding his syrupy thoughts into a sticky sort of clarity, he recalled the instructions given to them not even an hour ago.

“Make your way to the city centre,” Price had said, giving him a pointed look as he spoke. “Take y/n with you. Ghost will spot from close behind.”

Where was Ghost now, watching the way smoke clouded their location?

‘Take y/n with you.’

His gut dropped as he stumbled around the ruined vehicle. He couldn’t call out—there’d be no reason if you were unconscious. You’d been just a couple steals ahead of him, he knew.

Where are you. Where are you. Where are you.

Gaz knew he couldn’t linger. He wasn’t supposed to. Their location was compromised by some sensor and a localised detonator.

He could look for you, though. He could look for you. He could find you. You couldn’t be far.

He longed for your touch. More than he knew he should. He longed for the colour of your eyes as you spoke to him, telling him that you were alright. He’d kill to hear your voice, calling to him. Helping him to find you. Even if only barely through the clouds fogging his ears, the distant echo in his head, he needed your voice.

Where are you.

He can vaguely hear gunshots in his ear from an open comm line—and for a sickening moment he prayed it was you. Reaching out. Even if you were under fire. You were awake. Alive. But that false hope twisted into a barbed hook in his throat when he heard Soap’s voice on the other side.

“Dinnae ken we’d be so fucked on a block scan, Captain!” he hears, but the sound is so loud that he can’t focus on what’s in front of him. Or rather, what isn’t.

Where are you. Where are you. Where—

There.

He’d been right not to call out for you—you were out cold. Lying at an uncomfortable angle against a building corner, dusted with dirt and scraped by shrapnel. But your lashes fluttered. Alive.

He can’t leave you there. You look so uncomfortable. You wouldn’t be safe until they were supposed to be able to call for exfil. The task was far from done.

He wished you could open your eyes. But maybe it was a blessing you didn’t. Who knew what kind of damage you’d sustained.

“Please don’t be broken,” he finds himself muttering, shaking his head as the slurry thickened. He can’t leave you. He can’t leave you.

One arm hooked behind you, the other propping you up so he could lift you. A heavy grunt sounds behind him, and he meets the shadowed gaze of his lieutenant. Rifle over his shoulder, printed gloves reaching out to grip his shoulder.

“Move, Sergeant,” is all he says. But Gaz can only frown. He wasn’t incapable of saving you. He wasn’t incapable of getting you out. It came with a sense of both guilt and grief, letting this happen. You’d only been a few steps ahead of him.

“Negative, Lieutenant, I’ve got—”

“That’s an order, Garrick.”

He blames his impairment of thought for the scowl on his face. The tightening of his grip around you. He figures he must look like a fool. Disregarding orders, disregarding protocol, for the simple reason that nobody should be left behind. But, that it shouldn’t be Ghost to carry you to safety. It had to be him. Had to be him.

He doesn’t release you easily. But Ghost was in a much better state than he to argue. All Gaz can manage before stumbling back up to his feet is a mumbled “be careful with them.” Frowning, but dazed eyes exposing his worried heart. Gaze glued only to you. Even unsteady on his feet. His eyes were on you.

Ghost looked between you and his subordinate, with a critical eye. The man was stubborn and set to stay on his feet. To stay with you in his sights. It rang a tune in his chest that he recognised. Eyes dark from the skull that hides his face, the lieutenant nods.

“Copy.”

———

tag list: n/a

[xxladyballadxx]

Date Night

TF: ROTB Mirage X (human) reader

☁️ ✨Fluff✨☁️

A very special day has arrived where you go on a lovely date with your awesome goofy alien robot boyfriend Mirage. Planning to watch the gleaming stars of wonders up in the dark sky is going to be such a wonderful time for you and . Once you threw on your (f/c) mini dress and a bit of makeup, you slipped your flats on and stepped outside your home where Mirage awaits you. His blue energetic eyes widened when he held his head down to look at you. “Wow, (Y/n), you look…” Mirage motioned his eyes upwards and downwards, gazing upon you admiringly, “You look beautiful.” 

Your cheeks swirled into a warm heated red colour, “Thank you, Mirage.” 

Mirage smiled as he transformed into a Porsche 911 car, he flipped open the car door wide for you, “Shall we go, my lady?” 

“Let’s go.” you entered inside the car form of Mirage, seating at the front where the wheel is. Mirage closed the front door afterwards and drove off down the road while you settled down to relax, letting your alien robot do the driving as always. 

The two of you finally arrived at the destination. An edge of the cliff, a great spot to watch the stars. As soon as you exited the car, Mirage transformed back to his robotic form. “Amazing view..” you set your (e/c) eyes on the  stratosphere that is filled with stars sparkling out of it. 

Mirage sat onto the rocky ground, carefully not to sit too close towards the edge of the cliff otherwise he would end up falling down. You climbed on top of him to sit yourself down onto his lap. 

“Oh how I love to watch stars at night..” You spoke in a soft manner, your eyes being shone on by the stars of heavens. It begins to get cold as the beautiful night goes on, Mirage cuddles you with his gigantic robotic hands around you, being extra careful not to crush you to death. 

“A beautiful night, isn’t it?” Mirage set his glowing blue eyes on the dark sky, watching the stars shooting in different directions. Those stars somehow reminded him of his home planet Cybertron. He wishes to take you one day but would be too risky and Optimus would never allow it. 

“Yeah it is, our own heaven of dreams.” your voice dropped in a soft, soothing manner. You leaned your head back to Mirage’s chest while holding his big hand with your small adorable hand. 

 “A happy place where we can just be ourselves.” Mirage added, shining a smile of joy across his face. You carefully climbed up to his charming face to peck a kiss to his silver lips. “I love you so much, Mirage.” you warmed his machine heart with your loving words. You couldn’t tell if he was blushing or not. Robots can hardly blush since they’re alien robots from outer space. “I love you too, my little spark.” Mirage replied, stroking your hair softly with his robotic finger. 

You cuddled his face with your arms planted on it, feeling the heat of warmth floating over you and your whole body is no longer feeling shivery. You swept back down to sit on his lap once again after cuddling his adorable face for a bit. 

A goofy robotic alien and a sweet human girl spend the rest of the evening watching the stars together. Talking, flirting, complimenting each other and making out a drawing from the gorgeous midnight sky, connecting each little sparkle to see what they came up with. 

You wish this beautiful moment with Mirage would never end…

(A/n) - Damn, I never knew I would write this and I am shockingly in love with an alien robot. Mirage is such a goofball and I love that guy sm! :'') I've watched the new Tranformers movie on Friday with a good friend of mine and it turned out to be quite good. Some people may disagree with me on this but it is surprisingly much better then the previous Transformers movies. Just saying. Anyway, this may look shite but I hope you all like it.

UNTIL NEXT TIME ^_^

[artedimichelangelo]

Hi love! I am in need of some fluff for Aegon 🥺 may I request something with him falling in love with reader who is his aunt / Alicent's sister and trying to prove himself to her? Only if you are comfortable with it of course 😇 thanks!

My heart is yours, as yours is mine - Aegon Targaryen x Hightower!Fem!Reader

Author's Note: Hii! Thanks for your request, I know it's late and I think that this is not even really good, I tried my best on this one and I hope you like it. I also added a few lines from "Dangerously Yours".

Pairings: Aegon Targaryen x Hightower! Fem! Reader.

Warnings: English is NOT my first language; possible grammatical errors; Targaryen inc*st (reader is Alicent's sister); a tiny bit of angst; fluff; kinda ugly results of my writing, I don't think I did a good job on this one; let me know if there is something else that I might have forgotten.

Word Count: 790 (a really short one as you can see).

Issa gevie rūklon: My beautiful flower.

Whenever Y/n entered a room, Aegon longed for her eyes on his figure.

He took every opportunity he had to prove himself to her. To show his aunt how great he was, although he knew he really wasn’t, as his mother always used to tell him.

There were many different reasons why Aegon did that. Y/n looked at him with different eyes, proud ones, as she was the only one to really love him, in his good and especially in his bad moments.

The prince was in love with the young Hightower, another explanation to his odd behaviour.

“Aegon, my dear?” To wake him up from his thoughts was Y/n’s faint voice. "My dear" echoed in his ears like a soft melody from the birds of their majestic gardens.

“Yes? Is there anything you need, aunt?”

The young Targaryen moved his hand towards Y/n, his fingers barely touching her cheek. Almost too afraid to feel her soft skin, afraid he might hurt her in some way.

“I wanted to talk to you about something important.” She sat opposite to him and grabbed his cold hands into her warm ones, their fingers almost intertwining. “So I shall require your utmost attention.”

Aegon gave her a confused look, his breath stopping for a second. The worst case scenario flooding his head: what if someone hurt her? What if someone tried to touch her? Was she perhaps getting married?

He nodded, signalling her to proceed.

“As someone who deeply loves you, I must speak the truth.” Her eyes were focused on her nephew, almost as if she could ever detach them from him. Y/n’s emerald green velvet dress glowed faintly under the dim lights of the chamber, showing how it tightened around her curves and how it perfectly matched her voluminous crimson hair. “I believe you are doing too much.”

The prince did not know how to respond. All the words stuck in his throat, almost preventing him from breathing easily. He had by no means expected such an answer, and did not fully understand what she was referring to.

“My sweet and precious treasure, you can barely rest, your dark circles are as violet as the colour of your eyes, you are exhausted from fatigue and pain, and I can sense it perfectly.”

Aegon couldn’t even look at her. He felt embarrassed, guilty for no reason, weak compared to how he had shown himself the previous days, as tears ran down his now scarlet cheeks.

“My brave dragon, do not overwhelm yourself because you do not need to prove anything.” She took the prince’s face in her dainty hands and made him look carefully into her eyes. “Not to your mother and especially not to me.”

Y/n welcomed him into her arms and whispered sweet nothings in his ear, her fingers intertwined between the white and silky locks of Aegon’s hair.

The young Targaryen prince could perfectly feel her flowery aroma, almost intoxicating his nostrils. However this did not bother him. Her scent made him feel close to the Gods, as pleasant as it was.

“You are enough, my love. I wish you could see that with my eyes.”

A moment of silence fell between the two. It wasn’t awkward at all. It was quiet and put the two at ease. It made them appreciate the warmth of the flames dancing in the fireplace.

“May I kiss you?” He whispered, but Y/n heard those words clearly.

Everything felt surreal to her at that moment.

“Come again?”

Without any warning, Aegon’s lips quickly found Lady Hightower’s. At first she was taken aback, then she slowly melted into the delightful motion.

Y/n didn’t know if what was happening was right or wrong, but still it was almost impossible for both of them to pull away from each other.

“I love you. You may as well take my heart Y/n, it’s already full of you! I love you like a bee loves a daisy.” Aegon’s violet eyes lit up when they landed on her green ones. “I would die for you, I would kill for you, if that means you are safe.”

Blood flushed her cheeks and her heartbeat grew faster with each word.

They were both aware that no soul in the Seven Kingdoms could be as devoted to the young Hightower as the prince.

“My heart has always been yours, Issa gevie rūklon.”

“And my heart belongs only to you.” She reassured him, although he already knew that.

They were aware that everything would have had consequences in the family.

But it did not matter in that moment, as exchanging pleasant kisses and warm touches was enough to give them a fair amount of peace of mind to worry about the world another time.

[ruiimellowww]

Okay HI hello 👋👋

I saw ur art about Sun & Moon through a reblog and I am such a simp for those two omg so here's a rant :33

(Also if you're not comfy with this pls ignore this rant then, and I am so sry if that is the case!! Will stop immediately if you tell me to /srs)

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CAN I JUST SAY I am sosososososo in love with your desgin for the dca cuz holy shit I have never seen anything hotter. O.O LIKEEE THE HUMANOID VERSION??!?!!?? UGH soooo goooodd 🥵🥵 I love the designs and the- the little EARRINGS as well?!??! Omg sooooo cutee aaaaaa 💞💞

and-and omigosh UR ART IS SO GOOD AS WELL!?!? I straight up just wanna munch it. I am eating ur art fr. In LOVE with ur artstyle it's so yummy 😍

Anywhoooo I also scrolled through your dca tag aND *GASP* ECLIPSE?????? 😍😍AND I?? WANNA??? BE ENVELOPED????? BY HIMM??? (I feel like mans would give THE BEST cuddles on the planet!!!)

HOLLLYYYY SHITTTT thE SIZEEEEEEE

Big tall omigoshhhhhhHHH M- my brain- my heart my- mY EVERYThIng is mELTING! ! ! ! ! Literally his size just does something to me I cannot comprehend why omigosh

(*lays in a puddle on the floor*)

I can imagine sosososo many different scenarios where that height could be used aaaaa >~< <333 ;P

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Omg if you have any HCs (and *wanna* share, ofc.) about him (Or about Sun & Moon) I'd love to listen to you ramble about them??? <333

So curious about ur HCs & would absolutely love any crumbs about the dca ksskksskkdkdjdks ❤️😂

Uhm uhm first off, thank you so much I can't rlly put into words how sweet this is and I totally don't mind the rambles because me too. And also because its been YEARS since I last used Tumblr or did anything answering Ask is a bit tough for me.. MmMM

Although I don't have many HC at the moment.. I can however give you a little insight I have regarding my Human DCA :]

Moondrop (Moon) and Sundrop

- when I first designed Moon (after the game came out) he had a much wilder look to him, especially the face because I was really into the idea of him being simply insane hence the red.

- later when i got back to his design and adding colours I thought that it would be fun to make it Blue and white themed, which I actually didn't see a lot back then

- he wasn't supposed to look human even as a Humanoid, I liked to think that Sun & Moon simply had a renovated body. They are just as much Animatronics as they had always been, robotic parts and everything but with a bit of twist

- So then onto Sun.. the thing is its sad to say but I never explored much with Sun's design back then as much as I did with Moon, so I can't provide a good reference

- although I had a rough idea of how sun would look like I never quite liked the way I drew him, so he's always somewhat been stuck in this unfinished stage

- Then there was eclipse, who was my absolute FAVORITE at that time, I don't think I loved a character MORE THAN ECLIPSE EVER when I was drawing him out

- yes!! It was very much inspired by the 3D render shown here as the ref, though I did make some changes of my own to the design as well

- I had a lot in my head when I was drawing him, but the one thing that I loved most about this design still to thisq day is rhe face. The way I him to look back then was sort of a mix between my Sun and Moon designs, only leaning more towards Sun in colours and Moon in appearance with the crazed look in his eyes

The height was just a funny little thing I thought of, cuz imagine this giant fkn ahh robot just comes in here and picks you up 💀 god I would piss myself

Cough..

So in regards to the new design, I did kind of get rid of the animatronic feel to him that I had done with the DCA and his old design, all of them now look a whole lot more Human which is what I intended for

Eclipse has a few scars around his body; right forearm, left side of his torso that leads all the way up to his chest. Plus a bit of his face that is burnt which you can't exactly see because of the Black spots

Overall I like my newer designs quite a lot and has also changed a lot, this is probably the most insight you'll get out of me abt my art 😭😭 cuz I don't usually ramble this much otherwise

I might come up with some head canons at a later date, but they'll be fun thats for sure ;)

[yoshihashismattebum]

9 People I'd Like to Get to Know Better

Thanks @sycamoretrees for the tag!

Last song: I'm going to cheat and go for a whole album. I've been really enjoying Where's My Utopia? by Yard Act recently: deceptively clever stream-of-consciousness lyrics that walk the line between wry irony and passionate sincerity, all set to post-punk beats that you can dance to. (Shout-out to HELLMODE by Jeff Rosenstock and Sorry for the Late Reply by Sløtface too – both brilliant albums as well)

And while I'm breaking the rules, I might as well mention my wrestling playlist that I've been working on! It's a really eclectic mix of songs that remind me of various different things in wrestling – feuds, characters, general vibes etc. It's not finished yet (I'd like to organise it thematically and write some annotations to explain my thinking behind the choices), but maybe you'll find something on there you like!

Favourite colour: it's a tie between blue and purple (especially lilac). Also currently enjoying the yellow-green of the new leaves that are appearing at this time of year!

Currently watching: wrestling, surprise surprise. I'm just about keeping up with AEW and completely failing to keep up with NJPW. Other than that, I've not really been in a big TV/film mood recently. Although I did see Dune Part 2 the other week, which I thought was fantastic. My partner and I have also become slightly addicted to watching Gab Smolders play Nancy Drew games on YouTube.

Spicy/savoury/sweet/(sour)/(salty)/[umami]: since @sycamoretrees set a precedent of adding options, I'm going to go with another write-in candidate: my beloved umami. I am a Marmite fiend and will eat just about anything if it has soy sauce/miso/strong cheese etc in it. I enjoy pretty much all of the above tastes though, especially when combined in interesting ways. If I had to choose between the original options, I probably lean towards savoury; I have extremely strong opinions on crisps.

Relationship status: I've been with my partner for almost 11 years now :) (While I'm here, go check out her fantastic art and tabletop RPG writing at @mortphilippa! Obviously I'm biased, but she's super talented!)

Obsessions:

Too many to mention them all, but here's a selection:

Wrestling (of course): as well as my usual AEW & NJPW, I've watched some CMLL recently, which has been fun. I also recently reached new levels of nerd by emulating King of Colosseum 2, a Japanese wrestling game from 2004, on PC. It's good! Holds up well!

Tabletop role-playing games – an ever-present obsession for me. I've just wrapped up a 4+ year D&D campaign that I was GMing, which is an odd feeling, but I'm so proud of the story we told together. I'm also currently GMing/writing stuff for Cy_Borg, Liminal Horror and Brindlewood Bay, among others! There are tons more I want to run though – too many games, not enough time! (I am always up for conversations about TTRPGs by the way – I could talk forever about them! Hit me up if you wanna chat!)

Puzzle games: more of a recent obsession. I continue to do the Wordle every day, but I've recently been enjoying Connections (sorting words into categories), Heardle Decades (identifying songs from the intros), and Squeezy (a weird game about fitting letters into other words). I'm also going through a bit of a point-and-click adventure phase. Really enjoying Unavowed by Dave Gilbert currently. I'm not usually an urban fantasy fan, so it's a testament to how good the writing is that I'm loving it as much as I am.

Spring flowers: spring has well and truly sprung here in the UK, and I am loving all of the flowers that are popping up everywhere! There's nothing that brings me joy quite like going for a walk and doing some plant-spotting (I'm trying to get better at identifying plants this year! I'm mostly reliant on Google Lens and a bit of inherited knowledge from my Grandma currently)

Oops, that was A Lot! Enough about me. Time to tag some other people! (Only if you feel like it though! Absolutely zero pressure)

IRL friends (I know you all very well already, but I always love hearing what you're up to 💙): @thewaythroughthewoods, @thepenultimaterolo and @mortphilippa (and @unpairedbracket if you fancy it!)

Some Tumblr people wot seem cool (sorry if we've not interacted much – I've not been on Tumblr a lot recently and I'm bad at starting conversations!): @norfkid, @sybilius, @dansedan, @unlikelywrestlingfan, @punkrockpariah

[canirove]

The Princess & the Football Player | Chapter 5

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"He was wearing what?"

"Just a towel."

"And you didn't faint?" 

"I was so shocked by what I was seeing in front of me, that I didn't have time to think about anything else."

"Oh my God" Roberta laughs over facetime. "And then he went to apologize?"

"He did. And he called me by my name, and I swear it has never sounded better. Eleanor" I sigh.

"Girl..."

"I know, I know. And you know what makes it even worse? That his girlfriend, ex girlfriend or whatever, was at the stadium too."

"She was?"

"Yep. She was wearing a shirt with no number or name on it, but she was sitting with the other wags."

"Then maybe she's there only as a friend."

"Maybe... I don't know" I say, letting myself fall on the bed. "When did you say you were coming?"

"In a couple of days for the last game of this round. You'll thirst for Declan, and I'll thirst for Rashford. Deal?"

"Deal" I laugh. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━      

"Ok, is everyone wearing their clothes?" Kane asks before completely opening the changing room's door. 

"One minute!" someone shouts.

"Who was that?"

"Jack."

"Oh dear" I say.

"Not a big fan, uh?" Kane chuckles.

"He just isn't my cup of tea. But please don't tell him. The other day he said I'm his favourite royal."

"I won't, don't worry."

"Ready!" Jack shouts again.

"We sure?" Kane asks, looking inside the room. "Ok. After you, ma'am."

"Thank you" I smile.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━      

"Nice to see you again, your Royal Highness."

"You too, Declan Rice. And wearing clothes this time."

"Disappointed?" he asks with a cheeky smile.

"A bit, not gonna like” I sigh. Oh my God, why did I say that?

"I like the number on your shirt” he says as he moves a bit closer, his finger hovering over my shirt as he draws the number.

"Because it is yours?" I ask, trying to sound cool and condifent despite feeling my heart beating way too fast.

"Maybe" he shrugs, still smiling. "Do you also have the red shirt? We are wearing that one for our next game."

"I don't look good in red."

"You look good in every colour, Ele... I mean, ma'am. I'm sorry. My mum always calls you by your name and I'm used to it" he says, the cheeky smile now turning into a shy one. I honestly don’t know wich one I like the most. Both? Both.

"It's ok, don't worry" I smile back. “And thank you.”

“What for?”

“For saying I look good in every colour. I don’t think it is true, but...”

“But it is true” he shrugs.

"Ok everyone, get ready for the photo" Kane announces.

"Would you mind if I posed next to you? My mum would love it."

"It'll be my pleasure."

"Great" he says with a big smile that is added to my collection of Declan Rice smiles that make me swoon.

Once everyone is ready, I'm posing with Grealish to one side and him to the other. Grealish has his hands in front of him, but Declan doesn't. One I suppose is on Kane's back since he is to his other side. The other... The other is on my back. On my low back to be precise.

If anyone else touched me like that, they would definitely get a murderous look from me and some words from David. But that's not Declan's case. Mainly because I think I've forgotten how my body works. I'm only able to feel his touch even through the fabric of my shirt, and it isn't until the photographer asks for some smiles, that I remember where I am and what I am supposed to be doing. 

"Ok, we got it. Thank you, everyone" he says.

"My mum is definitely framing this and putting it next to the other one" Declan chuckles.

"She has our other photo framed?"

"She does. She sent me a photo of the shelves where she put it, it's like you are part of the family" he laughs. “I can show you, I just need to go grab my phone.”

"Ma'am, we have to leave" David says behind us.

"Maybe... Maybe you can send it to me? I'll send you a dm on Instagram from my personal account."

"Oh, ok. Great. I didn't know you had one.”

"That's because it is a secret" I smirk.

"My lips are sealed, then" he says, moving his fingers over his mouth and making me look at it. At his lips. At how kissable they look.

"Ma'am..." David insists.

"Yes, sorry. Keep an eye on your dms, ok? And good luck for the next game.”

"Thank you, Ele... ma’am."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━      

"You must be careful, ma'am."

"What?"

"That boy. You must be careful" David says when we make it to my hotel room.

"I don't know what you are talking about" I shrug.

"Eleanor..."

"You only call me by my name when it is something serious" I chuckle.

"Because this is serious. You are the future Queen of England, and he is a football player. It can't be."

"Why not?" 

"Haven't you heard what I just said?"

"Urgh" I complain.

"Eleanor, I know you fancy him. And he seems to fancy you too."

"Wait, what? You think he... You think he fancies me?”

"Yes, I do. To be honest, I don’t know how no one else has noticed. Especially today. You were so reckless...”

“We were just talking, David. And somewhere private.”

“But you are Eleanor, Princess of Wales. Talking about you sells. Imagine that someone in that changing room notices they way you were looking at each other, they tell their partner or a friend about it, and that person isn’t careful or tells the press about it. Or imagine that someone was taking a photo or a video with their phones, they post it on social media, and someone sees you.”

“But...”

“This relationship is not possible, Eleanor. Not even as a fling like happened last summer with Damiano. It just can't. So you better stop it before it even starts."

"What if I can't, David?" I sigh.

"It doesn’t matter. You must end this, Eleanor. You must."

[profound-bouquetbird]

you don't have to write this, just a request so yk,

if possible could you write Alador Blight x Reader smut?

specifically that Alador and Reader have been friends since hexside and at some point reader maybe suggests Alador take a break from work?

honestly it makes me a bit red to request but it's similar to "say no to this" from Hamilton

So yea :') take creative liberty if you wanna write this, you don't have to tho

have a nice timezone writer !!

Well damn- of course i will write this! Thanks for the lovely request anon!

Edit: I AM SO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK ME SO LONG I FORGOT I HAD IT IN MY DRAFTS 😭 😭 😭

I have never written smut in my life, i just read it so this shall be interesting

Here are some words that you my need for this fanfic: y/t = your track, h/c = hair colour

Alador Blight x afab!reader (they/them pronouns)

Warnings: smut

Contains: oral (m receiving), a bit of hair pulling, afab reader

Minors dni

Enjoy

It all started with two young Hexside students, one was in the abomination track, a kid named Alador, and the other in y/t, A kid named y/n, they were good friends, maybe even had crushes on one another, but both of them were too shy to ask the other out

Alador soon cought feeling for another girl and in the future they got married and had three children, but his love for y/n never seemed to disappear, and that created deep regrets

When the collector showed up and changed everything, he got to see his first lover again upon teaming up with Edalyn

"hey Alador! We accidentally broke one of your abomination creation, can you fix it?" Eda said as she walked in to the base

"of course Edalyn." Alador said as he went towards the entrance and picked up the broken abomination

"oh and before i forget y/n wanted to talk to ya." Eda said as she walked away, Alador seemed to not hear what she said and walked over to his workshop

He dragged the abomination in to the workshop and slammed the door behind him, locking it so that no one would bother him

"uhh, hello." A voice was heard behind him, he quickly turned to see y/n sitting on the desk

"y/n? What're you doing here?" He asked as he walked over to you, the tips of his ears turning a light pink

"just wanted to check in on you, you seemed kind of distant lately." They said as they got off of the desk

"I've just been busy." He states as he walked over towards the desk, pulling the brocken abomination creation with him

"with what?" They asked

"things." He answered

"well i could help you with those things." Y/n said as they looked at Alador, wiggling their eyebrows. Alador turned bright red as his pants seemed to be tighter than before

"so what can I do?" They asked as they pulled a chair next to Alador and sat down

"well for started you can screw these bolts on to this metal chest plate." He said as he took the chest plate off of the abomination and gave it to you

"that's not the only thing I can screw." Y/n mumbled, but Alador heard it, his pants tightened even more

They worked together on the chest plate, but Alador's pants never seemed to loosen up

"you good there?" Y/n asked, seeming to notice Alador's sweating

"yup- just fine." He breathed out

Y/n raised their eyebrow but shrugged it off and continued to work

Soon y/n was done with their part of the chest plate and they decided to check out Alador, i mean who wouldn't?

Untill they spotted it

Alador had a tent in his pants, they smirked

"oh so that's why you're sweating." Y/n said, Alador's face turned red as he just ignored y/n ad continued to work, thinking they would drop it

"well you could have just asked for my help." Y/n said s she got up from the chair and kneeled down in front of Alador

His eyes widened as he looked down to see you smiling innocently at him

"may i?" They asked

"please do." Alador breathed out

Y/n smirked and started to unzip his pants and pull his underwear down

Alador gasped as his length sprung up

Y/n grabbed his length as she started to pump him, he panted as y/n's movements quickened, they put their lips on his tip and slowly circled it with their tongue

Alador grabbed the table tightly as he bit the sleeve of his coat as to not make any noise to alert the others

Y/n slowly started to push his length down thier throat as alador bit harder on his sleeve, panting heavily

Y/n giggled seeing his reaction and that sent vibrations up his shaft as he groaned and grabbed y/n's hair and pushed them down his dick

They gagged but continued their motions, Alador's hand still in between their h/c hair

Alador felt as if he was going to explode, his dick pulsating in y/n's throat, but before he could finish y/n pulled away from him

"w-why'd you stop?" Alador panted as his and left their hair

Without a word y/n stood up and sat on Alador's lap, catching him by surprise

"though I'd try something else, but i have to have your consent of course." They claimed, smiling innocently

Alador rolled his eyes as he stood up and put y/n on his work desk, y/n's eyes widened as he tugged at their pants/ skirt/ whatever you're comfortable with, looking lustfully in their eyes

They smiled lightly as they nodded and alador quickly took their pants/ skirt/ whatever you're comfortable with off withe their underwear

"well someone's needy." They teased, propping themselves on their elbow's, alador groaned as he slowly started to insert himself inside of y/n' wet heat

They moaned as alador put a hand over their mouth

"Quiet they might hear us." Alador whispered, they nodded as they grabbed a clean cloth near them and tied it to heir mouth, bitting on it, getting alador a bit more turned on, but he wasn't going ti admit that of course

As he slid himself all the way in he gave y/n time to adjust before rocking them back and forth at a snow pace

Y/n's needy moans were muffled my the cloth as they barely mumbled something and pulled at Alador's coat, signaling him to go faster

He sighed and went a bit faster as their muffled moans became more frequent

Alador being lost in pleasure began to speed up a little more ad he quietly moaned and groaned in to y/n's ear, they squeezed his coat as their tight heat tightened even more around him, slowly but surely y/n was feeling a knot tighten in their stomach, they released with a moan as Alador groaned he thrusted harder in to them, making them whimper and moan as they grabbed on to Alador, feeling weak after their orgasm

Alador's thrusts became more sloppy, y/n knew he was about to finish and with one final thrust alador pulled out and came on their stomach

They both planted as alador reached and untied the cloth around y/n's mouth

"we better clean up before anyone sees us like this." Alador stated as he pulled away from y/n's grasp

"I'll get you a towel and clean clothes." Alador said as he out his pants on and unlocked the door to his workshop, leaving it and closing an locking the door behind him

"seems like you had a fun time." A voice was heard, he turned to see Eda

"Edalyn! Were you listening in on us?!' he panicked

"yeah thought you were gonna talk crap about me or something but instead i got free porn audio that i will use to blackmail you." Eda said as she waved a scroll around that showed a voice recording

"Edalyn, don't. you. dear." He said

"catch me if you can!" She yelled as she got on owlbert ad flew away

"Edalyn."

Hope you liked this story sorry if it is a bit cringe, i mean it is my first time writing smut sooo

But again hope you like it and i hope you have a great rest of your day

Byeeeeeee

[sirowsky-stories]

The Flowers Always Know

Chapter 8 - The Job

Description: Learning what Anita had planned for you wasn't at all helping your fragile state of mind. Marcus was, though.

**Beware! Author chooses NOT to display warnings on the individual chapters of this story. Read at your own risk!**

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 3490 (1691 words added) Masterlist (this story)

   Well, if you did have any expectations about what the job might be, you couldn’t have been more wrong.    Anita had left you alone in what would be your very own office, to think about whether or not you wanted to sign up for it, and honestly, you’d never been more nervous.    You’d been pacing around the relatively large space for a good hour, muttering to yourself and twisting your own thoughts into a veritable hornets-nest, until you didn’t even know what you were thinking about anymore.

   What parallel to this situation could have possibly brought your mind to fucking shoelaces? And exactly how much of the past hour had you spent comparing the advantages and disadvantages between round and flat ones?    A knock on the door woke you from your attempt at unravelling the nest, and you were physically relieved to find Marcus on the other side when you opened it.

   Once it had become clear to you that this anxiousness you were experiencing was only going to escalate no matter how many breathing exercises you tried, you’d decided to text him. Sending him just your location and a plea for him to hurry.    If you’d even attempted a phone call, you would likely only have ended up screaming incoherently at him, or possibly just sobbed like a child. Both options were feeling increasingly likely to happen either way, if you were honest.

   He noted your frantic expression when he stepped inside, but he didn’t comment on it, possibly for fear of setting off a bomb of emotions, which was admittedly not at all a ridiculous notion.    You wanted to thank him for arriving within a few minutes of receiving your message, but like him, you also feared that if you opened your mouth, the bomb would go off.    He attempted a humorous approach instead, which unfortunately didn’t work either.

   “Sooo… the job involves your own office, hm? Colour me intrigued,” he hummed, taking a little turn around the room with his hands clasped behind his back.

   You wanted to answer him with something coherent, something explanatory, but the moment you opened your mouth and sucked in a breath, panic was all that came out.

   “Marcus, I am freaking out!!” you all but shrieked, unable to control yourself at all, alternating between tugging at your blouse and nervously rubbing your sweaty palms down the sides of your jeans to try and dry them.

   “Whoa, hey… Easy, hermosa. What’s going on?” he beckoned, sounding honey smooth, but it wasn’t nearly enough to ease your racing thoughts down the slightest.

   You returned to pacing, still frantically trying to make your hands do something, as if it could somehow release a bit of the tension from your frame. But you must’ve looked absolutely crazy.

   “She wants me… Me… to be in charge of the ENTIRE Creative Division!” you spewed, not even looking at him to gauge his reaction, because you were too busy trying not to asphyxiate yourself through hyperventilation. “Which would mean I’d be in charge of everything from approving or even developing new action-figures, toys and games, to overseeing the school material for superpowered children.    It would mean being responsible for several smaller departments, handling budgets and lawyers and-… Oh my god… he press!?”

   You could feel your pulse skyrocketing and suddenly you really were struggling to breathe.

   “I… I can’t do this… Marcus, I can’t! It’s too much, too big… I’d never be able to handle it,” you panted, no longer pacing but twisting and turning on the spot, clawing at your collar even though it was already loose.

   But then a flare of anger found its way to the forefront of your emotional turmoil, and you were immediately spurred back into motion, gesticulating even wilder now.

   “And she knows it too! I swear she’s doing this just to fuck with me… What other reason could she possibly have, to offer someone completely inexperienced and untested such an advanced position?    You’re right, she is horrid!”

   Somewhere in the back of your head a small warning light was going off, yelling something about how you weren’t sure if certain offices in this building might be bugged, and if so, by the very same person you were cussing out right now.    But you couldn’t see that little blinking light behind all the blaring neon signs made up of your anger and fear.

   “Okay, please just stop moving for a second,” Marcus implored, and you wanted to, but your body felt like it was boiling and freezing at the same time.

   You felt like you were a freight-train, needing several kilometres of stopping-distance once you’d reached top speed. And you had no idea how to even operate the brakes.    Marcus had to grab your shoulders and physically stop you, and you still kept trying to tread on the spot.

   “Look at me, querida,” he beckoned, and while your eyes were darting all over the place, at his urging you managed to force them to stop on his beautiful face, and it made it slightly easier to breathe. “You survived the impossible. You did that.    Sure, there were doctors and nurses helping you fight, but all they did was keep your heart beating. The rest was all you.    You are the strongest and bravest person I know, and I truly believe that there is nothing you can’t do.”

   “But… I had you to lean on,” you protested, not really because you thought he was wrong, but simply because you were overwhelmed, and you wanted someone to tell you what to do so you wouldn’t have to think on your own anymore.

   “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” he countered with a nonchalant twitch in his shoulders. “And what in the world makes you think you’d have to do this alone?    Besides me, there are literally hundreds of people in this building that wouldn’t hesitate to help you if you asked. It’s kind of what we do here, remember?”

   You sighed and bowed your head a bit, feeling defeated by the fact that he wasn’t taking over your burdens and letting you escape from taking responsibility for yourself. Even though you knew he was absolutely right in just being supportive and encouraging.

   “Not two hours ago, I stood in your office telling you that I didn’t want to be a manager, and now that’s exactly what she’s asking me to be,” you lamented, the lack of movement forcing your body to settle down and the adrenaline to ebb out, leaving only deeply rooted fears and angst behind. “Every inch of me is telling me to just run out of here, and not even consider it, because this is not who I am.    I’m not a career-woman, I’m not ambitious like that. I don’t want fame or more money, I just wanna go to work every day and know that it makes me happy.”

   You looked into his eyes again, searching for some kind of positivity or at least softness, to shield your fragile nerves from the harshness of reality and responsibility. But instead, you were met by an uneasy sadness, the origin of which you couldn’t understand.    That is, until he spoke.

   “If that’s how you feel, then… why are you still here?” he asked, and he sounded so frail suddenly, as if one word from you could send him shattering into a thousand pieces.

   He’d always seemed so solid to you. So steadfast and reliable. And now he was crumbling, because of something that was happening to you.    For the first time since you found out what the job was, your body stopped trying to crawl out of its own skin, and you felt your shoulders slump with failure and shame as you realized what your words must sound like from his perspective.

   “Because of you, Marcus,” you hurried to explain, needing him to know just how important he’d already become to you. “Because the idea of coming to work every day and see you, talk to you, be a real part of your life, in any capacity, makes me absolutely light-headed with joy.”

   Damned it, why were your eyes watering? You needed to see his face clearly to know how he was reacting to this, and whether you should back off or press on.    But your heart was open and its contents already pouring out, so in truth, there was no stopping it regardless.

   “Even though I’m terrified of this job and all the repercussions it could have, there’s also a giant and treacherously fearless part of me which keeps telling me that none of it matters if I can just see you.”

   It ended up being a bigger statement than you’d intended, and now you were suddenly terrified you’d said too much.    You studied his face carefully as he stared back at you, but he looked… indecipherable. There was no way to tell if what you saw in his face was joy or sadness, or maybe incredulity. It could be all of the above.

   But whatever it was, you only saw it for maybe two seconds. After that, he was abruptly too close for you to make out anything other than the sensation of his lips on yours, instantly making you forget about everything else.    This time, his kiss wasn’t tender or soft, but demanding. Craving. As if something had unlocked within him and was trying to suck you in and lock you up so you could never leave him. Even his physical reaction seemed to confirm it, holding you so tightly to him you couldn’t have escaped his grip if you’d tried.

   Like before, your body reacted without your permission, or giving any advance warning, heating and quivering with the pleasure of feeling him pressing his entire body against yours.    You felt your hands find their way to his waist and immediately pulled his shirt out of his suit pants to go exploring on the warm skin of his torso, which he seemed to like immensely. Feeling your hot skin against his drew a deep growl from him, sending tendrils of excitement through your blood.

   He let his own hands slip underneath your shirt, but since he was clearly reluctant to allow any space between you, he settled for just stroking and caressing the taut skin of your back and occasionally squeezing the softer curves of your love-handles.    It wasn’t until your knees were actually starting to cave in from the oxygen-depravation caused by your uncontrollable panting, that he finally pulled away. His own breathing was equally laboured, and you were mildly smug about that.    At least you weren’t the only one losing control.

   “Damn… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push,” he apologized as soon as he could speak, which threw you for a moment.

   But then you realized he was referring to your earlier reaction and how much it had scared you, and you could see how it would worry him.    This time had felt different, though. Maybe because it hadn’t been you who’d instigated this one. Or maybe just because you’d gotten over the shock of the first time now, so it felt less overpowering.    Whatever the reason, you were only happy in that moment.

   “I would say this felt more like being pulled…” you winked, shifting your arms up to wrap around his neck. “But either way, I enjoyed it. A lot, in case it wasn’t obvious.”

   “It did seem like it,” he chuckled, before turning serious again. “I just wanna be clear about the fact that I’m seriously not in any hurry. Yes, I obviously like you and I want to explore this further, but only on equal terms.    And as far as the job’s concerned, I don’t care if you take it, I’ll make sure you get to see me every day anyway, if that’s what you want.”

   You pulled back just a fraction, so you could look into his eyes without having to cross yours, and you were pleased to feel his grip around your waist unchanged even as you leaned your shoulders back.

   “I didn’t dare to believe you might be into me like this,” you admitted. “I told myself it was just about the recovery, and you were simply being the kind and helpful person you are. That you’d probably do the same for anyone who needed you.    Because why the hell would superhuman Team Leader Marcus fucking Moreno ever look twice at little old me, if not for the supervillain crossing my path.”

   “No, hermosa,” he immediately rejected your perspective. “It was never just about trying to set things right for you.”

   “I know. Somewhere in my heart, I always knew it was more than that. It’s just that I’m used to being passed over, or not even being noticed, and then you come into my life with this incredible intensity and emotional availability, and I couldn’t believe it was all for me.    To be honest, part of me still doesn’t.”

   “Yeah, I remember,” he surprised you by saying, and when you raised a questioning brow at him, he elaborated. “Do you still feel like our care of you was exaggerated?”

   You ducked your head then, not wanting to answer, which was of course also an answer.

   “Mm-hm, that’s what I thought,” he sighed. “Tell me what it’s gonna take for you to believe me when I say you’re worth every effort? Not because you’re special or more important than anyone else, but simply because you exist.”

   “I don’t know,” you admitted, raising your head enough that he could see your face, although not meeting his eyes yet. “I’m just such a mess right now. So much has happened in such a short time, and it still keeps on going. Like I’m on a treadmill and someone keeps increasing the speed, waiting for me to fall so they can laugh at me.    And maybe I’m dead wrong about everything, but I have never been cared for by anyone. I’ve always had to take care of myself and I’m proud of the fact that I always have.”

   “Yeah, I kinda guessed as much. And you should be,” Marcus softly commented when you paused to breathe, and this time, you did look up and meet his eyes.

   “I really don’t know if I can do this. But I think the reason it scares me so much is that a part of me really wants to try, you know? While another part of me is so sure I’ll fail that it just makes me wanna forget about the whole thing.    And then in the middle of all that, there’s you, and everything I feel about you, mucking it all up and making it impossible for me to know if I want the job because of you or because of the challenge.”

   “Hm. That’s a lot going on in just one little head,” he agreed with a mildly concerned crease between his brows, but he wasn’t trying to be funny.

   “Too fucking much…” you nodded, and then tried to bring a little humour into it yourself, just to take an ounce of weight out of the conversation. “Regardless of the size of the head.”

   It did work, making him smile again, but he was still concerned for you.

   “Ay, querida. Tell me what you need from me to help you make this decision?”

   You looked down on your own hands, which had settled on his chest at some point, and you fiddled with the buttons on his shirt while you tried to think.    What did you need?

   However, Mrs. Moreno had apparently decided to be the one to help you with that, as she, yet again, barged into the room unannounced, with that uncanny timing of hers.    Giving no indication she was even surprised to see her son’s arms around you, or your ruffled clothes, she simply stepped around the two of you, calmly looking at the desk and the chairs as though she was surveying the place.

   This seemed to you to be extremely odd behaviour, but Marcus looked only annoyed, so he clearly knew exactly what she was up to. He didn’t even bother loosening his hold on you, and just patiently waited for his mother to explain herself, as if they were engaged in a match of who could stay quiet the longest.    It took a while, and you wondered if you should interject, but something told you to just stay out of it.

   “Well?” she finally caved, after like five minutes of aimlessly trudging about.

   But it wasn’t her son she was addressing. She turned to look at you as she uttered the single syllable, and all at once, you knew exactly what she was referring to.

   “Am I wasting my time on you, or not? Because I told you; I don’t have time for intermissions,” she bluntly stated, letting her cane come to rest between her feet while she placed both hands over the head of it.

   Marcus’ arms tightened around you, as though he was trying to protect you from having to answer. But you did.    She could’ve offered you more time to think about it, but it wouldn’t have made the decision any easier to make. And you were fairly certain she knew this, which might mean she was actually trying to help you. Although it seemed unlikely.    You pushed away from her son, who reluctantly let go of you, and turned to face her.

   “Okay. I’ll take the job, but I’m not making you any kind of promises.    You know my resumé, which means you know damned well I’ll most likely fail, which for all I know, might be exactly what you’re hoping for.    But whatever angle you’re working, you better believe me when I tell you that this is not a game. You might be enjoying this, but it’s my reputation and credibility which gets ruined if I can’t cut it, so stop treating me like some stray dog you took home to try and domesticate.    I’m not your god damned pet.”

   You didn’t say it loudly, or angrily, just potently. And she smiled in return, which actually managed to make you feel better, somehow. Like you’d been officially initiated into the Kingdom of Mamá Moreno.    Now you just had to prove your worth. Which… shouldn’t be that difficult, right?    She swung her cane to the side and started walking, and it looked like she would leave without any further comment.

   “You’re welcome, hijo,” she smugly grinned at her son just as she passed him on her way out of the room.

   “For what?!” Marcus almost barked at her. “Stressing her so badly you nearly gave her a fucking heart-attack?”

   “No, mi amor. For showing you her heart,” Anita countered, impressively calmly, but her son apparently didn’t buy a word of it.

   “How would you know anything about her heart? You haven’t spared a thought to her or given her the light of day in four months,” he challenged, but she just left, looking for all the world like nothing at all significant had happened.

   Meanwhile, your nerves went straight back to fraying, and while Marcus was still shaking his head and staring after his mother in disbelief as the door closed behind her, your pulse had already hit the roof again, and you were literally seeing stars.    Your knees actually did finally give out, and you slowly drooped to the floor, panting, but with no amount of pleasure this time.

   It was a slow and silent kind of panic now. Something building from deep within you, freezing more than it burned, turning you abnormally still as it locked your body up, piece by piece.    Your breathing was the only thing giving away what was happening, and once he heard it, he forgot all about his mother and hurried towards you.

   “Sweetheart, what is it?” he asked as he crouched beside you.

   You wanted to answer him, but your jaw was locked up with the rest of you, so you closed your eyes and tried to think about happy places and peaceful moments, and it gradually brought some warmth back into your blood.    He seemed to understand you needed a minute and used his hands to rub soothing circles on your back and shoulders while he waited, and then just held you until you started being able to move again.

   “…Creative Department Manager,” you whispered, tasting the words for the first time, and they were just as daunting as you’d expected them to be. “Fuck me,” you added, just trying to release some tension from your brain.

   But from the corner of your eye, you could see him trying to resist smiling at your words, clearly relaxed now that he knew you weren’t going to need to visit the med-section.

   “Quite happily, hermosa,” he grinned, just barely able to keep from giggling. “But maybe not on the floor of your new office, on your first day.”

[heartofstanding]

150-word meme

It's been over four years since I've done one of these and my creativity has been on fire lately (lots of ideas, not much writing, alas) so I figured it was time to bring this back and since we've now got the ability to option to add polls, I added a poll option.

Behind the cut is a list of current WIP projects (with excerpts). You can vote for one fic in the poll at the bottom and/or send me an ask with at least one number (you can send more than one number if you want) and I will write 150 words in the equivalent fic.

1. The Birth (Henry and baby Hal, modern AU).

‘Hal?’ Henry said. ‘Our baby,’ Mary said, looking a little hurt. ‘I thought we were going to call him Harry?’ he said. ‘He looked more like a Hal than a Harry to me,’ Mary said as if that solved everything. Henry didn’t know how that worked. Their son looked like a gremlin, not like a Harry or a Hal or like anything that should have a name that wasn’t Uglik the Wailing One.

2. this single knife in my heart (Hal’s perspective of his dagger incident/’but it is my knife and my heart too’)

‘Do you have any idea what you will say to him?’ ‘Well, I won’t make the mistake of asking him to abdicate, if that’s what you mean.’ Beaufort coloured dully and bent over his plate. ‘I thought it was the best thing to do – you know he hadn’t been well for years. I did not realise how poorly he would take it, how could I? It was the same logic he himself used with Richard. He was unfit as king, he could not carry on – why not give the throne away and enjoy one’s final years without the troubles? It was reasonable, wasn’t it?’ ‘The unreasonable part was saying any of that to my father’s face.’

3. untitled sodomy fic (Hal finds out Courtenay is gay)

‘Beaufort says you are a sodomite,’ he said. ‘It is a clerical vice, Hal.’ ‘It’s still a sin.’ ‘What, a vice a sin? I never knew that,’ said Courtenay. ‘I thought all vices were virtues. Indeed, in acting on my vice, I might have performed many a good deed for others and so be said to be virtuous…’

4. the wellspring (Joan of Kent/The Black Prince proposal)

‘Come out with me tomorrow,’ he says. ‘What?’ ‘We could go riding,’ he says. ‘Pass through the forest and the fields, go up to the moors. Or else have a hunt.’ She drinks deeply from her cup. She thinks, this is madness. She thinks, it would be good to leave the silent, still walls behind her and go through the world, breathe the free air. ‘It’s raining.’ ‘It’ll clear.’

5. she’s not coming home tonight (Philippa leaves England)

‘Will you tell me,’ Philippa said, ‘about our mother?’ Harry was silent for a long moment, his face still. ‘Why do you want to know?’ She bit her lip. ‘No one talks about her or when they do, they just say she was lovely as if that means anything.’

6. some rift, a hollow (Henry meets his son again after Bradmore's cure)

Henry thinks: O God, I am ill. I will die and Harry will be king and everyone will see his face. The longer he lies there and nothing changes, he understands it is only the relief of seeing Harry alive and well that has made him collapse. Then, he thinks: my son is here! My son will be well again! My son lives! I will keep my children safe. I will love Harry better. I will be a good man! I will learn mercy and forgiveness, I will take the penance the Almighty gives me meekly, whatever form it takes. I will go barefoot to Jerusalem to give thanks! Then, Richard’s voice: will you? You promise and promise and promise and then forget or find excuses. Do you forget I have the measure of your soul? You will do none of these things.

7. night's sister (Philippa of England gets visited by her sister's ghost)

It’s one of those strange kind of nights where Philippa’s skin prickles and she cannot lie peaceably in bed. After the winter solstice, day is fleeting and night stretches on seemingly forever. They go to bed early and wake late but in the midst of night, Philippa wakes and cannot go back to sleep. Her body feels heavy and strange, her hands slipping over it. At seventeen, she is almost a woman; she has carelessly shucked off the body she left England with and found herself in a different one, one with breasts and a body that wants some days and bleeds others.  At seventeen, she is as old as Blanche was when she died. She still feels too young to lie beneath her husband or to grow a child within her body, though Blanche, at seventeen, had done both and died with a second child half-grown within her belly. Philippa rolls over in her bed.

8. the silver blessing (Blanche's birth)

Mary takes her penance as meekly as a lamb and when her confessor leaves her, she moves, standing up and striding towards the window. Her fingers curl into fists, she straightens them and smooths out her skirts. He said, it is a mother’s duty to render up her child so that they may be all they can be. Think of the Virgin, giving up her Son to the Lord’s will. But the Virgin was special, chosen for God to carry her Son and give him, and she had borne what no mother should be made to bear and grieved most sorrowfully, even though she was specially chosen. Mary, at least, does not have to bear the Virgin’s sorrows. Not truly. She is giving her eldest son up but only to her own mother to raise for a time. Six months, perhaps, a year at most. And throughout that time, she will visit her mother and her mother will visit her. It will be bearable. It will be good for Harry too. He will have time on his own, Maman will help him grow in confidence and learning. But Mary will still miss him.

9. should've come with a warning (modern AU, set in a "everybody lives" fix-it verse. In the aftermath of her relationship with Louis Pfalz, Blanche has lunch with Joan of Kent.)

‘Is there anything you’d like to do?’ said Mum. ‘We don’t have to go to Richard’s for lunch, I can text him with an excuse.’ ‘Like what?’ ‘Traffic’s bad, we got away late—’ ‘He’d only invite us for afternoon tea.’ Mum’s lips pressed together. ‘We don’t have to accept.’ ‘He’ll just think I’m “damaged” then,’ Blanche said.

10. in the time of storms (Eleanor Cobham and no-good, very-bad year of 1441)

The little bottles tinkled as she ran her fingers over them. She hadn’t used them in so long. There hadn’t seemed to be much point. As Margery had told her, as delicately as possible, she was getting rather too old for there much hope left. As Southwell had told her, there was little they could do but hope that God, in His infinite mercy, would take pity on her. But why should she hope? She had done everything she could to carry a child but God’s infinite mercy had never let her birth more than blood and moles. She would tell Bolingbroke to take them away. He would look at her with his pale eyes that always seemed too compassionate, too knowing, and know she had given up. If had someone had come looking through this box, what had they hoped to find? Some foolish, superstitious child who sought love-charms or gossip? A chance to claim they had been brave enough to go through the witch’s box of spells, perhaps to take one and use it as a trophy – if that was the case, it was a weakness. They should be gotten rid of.

11. the king is dead (Eleanor Cobham and the death of Henry V)

‘Will you not go to him, your grace?’ Eleanor said. Jacqueline looked at her strangely. ‘The Duke of Gloucester?’ Eleanor said. Jacqueline shook her head. ‘No. I cannot go. I need to think, to speak with my people and take counsel. Prepare. Make plans. I cannot go.’ She paused for a moment, her mouth twisting and hands wringing the cloth of her dress. ‘You go,’ she said.

12. The Bargain (Eleanor's POV of 'some hope', documenting one pregnancy and miscarriage)

Also God said to the woman, I shall multiply thy wretchednesses and thy conceivings; in sorrow thou shalt bear thy children; and thou shalt be under the power of thine husband, and he shall be lord of thee. O God, if only it was true. If she had to go through this, there must be some reward, some reason. Her eyes streamed. It was not enough listening to Hume extol the duties of a loyal, patient wife or the promise that God’s will was done and done alone or his scolding that one must not put the Lord to the test. But there had to be some hope, didn’t there? There had to be some reason. She was allowed to be impatient; she was getting older and her prayers to both St. Anne and St. Margaret had thus yielded nothing.

You can send me an ask with one or more numbers (anon is on) and/or vote in the poll below! You can totally do both, too.

[zeawesomebirdie]

hi !!!! did NOT consider you might like to have the ask again to answer it. if you do:

seeing you post about your old west au is motivating me to at least draft my stuff out for my fic, too!!! so, firstly: good god thank you. secondly, what kind of drafting process do you normally go through? you don't have to answer this but everyone i know is pretty particular about how they write so i'm always curious!!!

Gosh okay I'm still so embarrassed about accidentally posting this before it was ready!! Lesson learned: only work on long posts on desktop (very affectionate). I'm going to copy paste what I had originally said, but there will be added stuff because it wasn't anywhere near ready to go (if you thought it was long before, honey you ain't seen nothing yet!)

Also I still am so proud of you for working on your fic, we are writing buddies now hand in lovable hand I love you thank you for enabling my rambling <33

Buckle in, here we go!

SO! My drafting process is always a moving target. I do what works best for the work in question, and things change depending on my energy and fatigue levels plus my motivation and interest levels

So that said, right now my process usually looks like:

ramble at someone in DMs, copy and paste rambles into a google doc for safekeeping and marinating

zero draft, aka word vomit until a plot forms, block out actions and the occasional dialog, determine chapter and story arcs

first draft, aka Where The Real Writing Happens

optional second draft, but only if the fic is under 10k

line edits

post :)

find a bunch of typos that I somehow missed during line editing, fix those before anyone notices

I will be showing examples because this is a bit hard to explain and Extremely Intense to a lot of people, and yeah that's because it is! I approach writing fanfic the same way I approach writing original fiction, and I find it works best for me as a plotter

If you are metaphorically inclined and familiar with oil painting: I write the way an oil painter paints. First I block in the big shapes, the gestures, and the colours. Then I come back in subsequent drafts and increase the detail until I'm done!

Further information and actual examples of my drafts will be below the cut, because this is gonna be super long and I love talking shop ^.^

And general content warning for non-graphic violence and graphic smut (and shitty early drafts); the examples are from Bruce Wayne/Dick Grayson fics

So before we get into the zero draft, I want to point out two things: first, I do full rewrites. This is why writing takes me one million years. I retype each and every word in each and every draft. Second, I'm actually trying something new with the Old West!AU, for reasons I will explain in a moment!

I started doing full rewrites in 2019 after a college writing course, in which we read Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott; she encourages the reader to embrace the shitty first draft. I ended up really benefiting from a zero draft too, something I first learned about in 2020 from someone on authortube who I no longer remember the name of. The zero draft is essentially a pre-draft, in which one gets the gist of the story out of their system before the prose clogs up the spigot

For me, zero drafts are something that need to be finished as fast as possible in order to get done at all, so due to the sheer length of the Old West!AU, I'm trying out writing little bullet points instead of my full zero drafting. Right now this fic is at 27 chapters, and this is part 1 of 3 total. I will be going back and filling in the actual blocking once I have all the scenes roughly accounted for

Context for the Old West!AU: Bruce is the Bat, a vigilante gunman who only kills when he needs to but still has the fastest draw on this side of the Mississippi. Now that he's taken care of the man who killed his parents, he's returned home to his Uncle Alfred and gone straight, meaning that he's hung up his guns and gone back to homesteading the family land. He adopts Dick and then a year later Jason as well, when small burglaries start happening in town, so he takes the Bat out of retirement and goes to investigate.

My bullet points started out like this:

Open on comparison between Bruce's first gun and the Bat's guns. Introduce Joe Chill, general drunkard. The Bat calls out Chill, shootout, Chill is killed. Chill drew first. Moment of reflection between Bruce's first gunfight at 15 to this one, at 21. Bruce goes home.

And that's the whole entire first chapter!

However, now they look more like:

The Sheriff runs up and shoots at him. The Bat has him disarmed with his own gun barrel to his throat in an instant. It doesn't take the Bat much time to get info out of him either. The burglar is only going after small change, not enough to be noticeable. That rules out the gambler, easily. The Sheriff can't do shit about it, because no one is willing to start an investigation for such small change. The Bat shoves the Sheriff to his knees and is gone before he notices. Alfred is waiting for him when he gets home, and asks. Bruce tries to deny it, but the clothes are in his hands and he can't. So he sighs and says he may have made a promise, but… there might be more to this than there seems, okay? He just… has a bad feeling about it. Alfred can't accept this, what about his sons? Bruce can't take this, and tells him he doesn't have to. Their yelling wakes up Dick and Jason, who stand in the doorway to their bedroom and look on with the door mostly closed.

Eventually both Alfred and Bruce yell each other out, and they sit down for coffee as dawn breaks. Bruce breaks the silence first, saying Alfred is right. Alfred tells him he understands. Bruce decides to let the Bat go for real now.

This is about half of the chapter, and closer to the blocking I normally do in zero drafts

So far this pre-zero draft seems to be working, given I've already finished part 1, but I also can't wait to come back and do the blocking in because that's when the fic really starts to take shape!

Usually though, I just start with a zero draft. I'm going to show you two different fics for the zero draft examples, because they were done differently, and like I said at the beginning, I try to adjust my process based on what is called for by what I'm writing

This first is from the fic I'm writing for @ful-crum. It's a 5+1, in which it is five times Dick fucks Bruce to distract him from discussing his emotions plus one time they actually discuss their emotions and then fuck about it.

Tim and Jason turn up an hour later, and they're incredibly concerned. Dick waves them off. Tim takes him at his word and heads to bed (he has a meeting with Wayne Tech at 8am tomorrow, ugh), but Jason sits down next to the bed and asks Dick what he thinks Bruce is going to say. Dick tells him he's not sure, I mean, it's B, y'know? Jason just nods, and they lapse into silence. Then Steph and Cass come in, and Bruce is most noticeably not present. Cass signs something about bed, and Steph tells Dick that she's worried about Bruce, to which Jason snorts and says they all are, but she insists that Dick talk to him. Dick doesn't even need to take more than a moment to decide that won't be happening. But Steph goes to bed, and it's nearly 04:00 when Jason heads up too, saying he'd love to help Dick lecture Bruce about staying out late but he's got stuff to do tomorrow. Dick asks if he wants to know what stuff, and Jason gives him a smirk and says ask him no questions and he'll tell him no lies. Dick can live with that.

As you can see, this is just general staging directions and vibes

This second example was supposed to be for BruDick Week 2024, but I accidentally got carried away and ended up deciding to write a longfic for it instead. The prompt was "brudick meet their AU!selves," so I did 66!brudick meets the Gotham Rogues Polycule, an AU in which Bruce, Dick, and Clark are in a very elaborate polycule with half of Gotham's villains.

Batman and Robin were on a normal mission in the middle of the day, on the trail of Catwoman, who's been stealing from the Gotham Museum of Art again. One moment they were walking into the museum, the next they were in a weird swirl of energy. Robin clings to Batman and asks what's going on, and Batman tells him steady Robin, we just have to stay calm and see what happens. The energy clears as someone calls out “incoming! Clear the floor!” and they find themselves in what is clearly the Cave, except it's even more high tech than anything they've ever seen. There's three people in suits like theirs standing in front of a massive screen, and Robin identifies the Riddler immediately, even if he doesn't recognise the other two. Before Batman can stop him, he charges the Riddler, who jumps behind the man in black and blue with a laugh. Batman does call out for him to stop, but he ignores him. The man in black and blue meets his every move, almost like he's fighting himself, and he calls out to the man in red and blue “a little help here, Supes?”

The biggest difference here is how drastically these fics changed from their zero draft to the first draft rendition, and that is entirely because of how fleshed out they ended up being (or not being, lol)

When I zero drafted the 5+1, it was with the intention of that specific part simply being a chapter, whereas my original zero draft of the 66! meeting the polycule! fic was actually intended to be a two shot at most. I unfortunately lost control of the plot during the first draft of that one, and it spiraled into a longfic, which will become more clear in a bit!

Basically though, the goal of the zero draft is to know who's where and why at all times! With longfics, there is often a restructuring that happens after the zero draft is written, where I move scenes and sometimes whole chapters to their best locations. This is where I make the most use out of a beta! Pacing is a big struggle for me and it is easier to fix at this stage, before I have all the prose and have become attached to what I've written

Next up is the first draft, and this is a whole new document. This is where I write The Actual Words. This is more or less the final version of the fic, for longfics, give or take a few paragraphs and a shit ton of line edits. Having said that though, I write in fits and bursts, because y'know disabled and stuff. So I write a paragraph or two at a time, and I am constantly adding and subtracting words and lines and sometimes whole paragraphs while I am actively working on a chapter

I'm going to show the first draft versions of both of the above fics, and due to the length these will be extremely excerpted but they should serve as examples regardless. Generally speaking, my zero drafts are about 1/3 of the length of my finished fics, however the 5+1 is currently proving to be an exception so that number may not be super accurate

First, the 5+1:

“You did take care of them, right?” Dick asked, groaning when Jason’s mouth thinned as he looked away. “Is Steph at least still with him?” “Last I heard, they were—” Jason started, cutting himself off when the Cave’s alarm signaled the arrival of newcomers. A moment later, two muddy bikes roared into the garage, leaving dark tracks behind them as they parked haphazardly together on the far side of the garage. With the return of Black Bat and Spoiler, the only empty place on the garage floor now belonged to Batman himself. Dick tried to catch Jason’s eyes as they waited in the med bay for Cass and Steph to strip off their suits and join them, but Jason turned away from him, though he didn’t rise from the bed. Something must have gone down after he’d fallen unconscious, Dick was sure of it. Why else would Bruce have sent everyone else home early on a patrol night? He could already see it in his mind’s eye, Batman doing God-knew-what out in Gotham alone, Bruce coming home with a busted lip that Dick would have to personally clean up before they went to bed, how that lip would scab over and feel under his tongue when he kissed Bruce the next morning after waking up in their bed—Bruce’s bed—on accident. How that scab would stretch when the ghost of a smile caught Bruce by surprise after one of Dick’s terrible puns. “You okay?” Steph called across the Cave as she and Cass walked toward the med bay. “Never been better,” Dick replied, trying not to be put out at Jason’s eye roll. He put up a hand for Cass to inspect when she came up to his bedside, and after she had nodded her satisfaction of his health he smiled. “I’ll be right as rain in no time.”

And the 66! meets polycule! fic:

“You!” Robin shouted, not waiting for Batman to back him up as he charged toward the Riddler. Riddler didn't move—in fact, none of the three moved—then Robin was on him, punching his face hard enough to hear a distinct crack. That startled all three into action, Riddler swearing up a storm before throwing himself behind the blue masked man, who blocked Robin's next hits without hesitation. “Robin!” Batman called from somewhere behind him, but Robin ignored him, focusing his energy on striking past the masked man's defenses to get at Riddler. “I know you're behind this, you– you scum!” Robin snarled in Riddler's direction, placing a perfectly timed jab toward the masked man's left cheek and then feinting to the right. But the man met him easily, as though they were merely sparring. “I'm not who you think I am!” Riddler exclaimed, his hands cupping his face but doing little to staunch the blood streaming from his nose. “Let's slow down for a minute, okay?” the masked man said, his voice maddeningly level as if Robin wasn't trying every trick he knew to get past him. “We can explain.” “Yeah kid, there's a good explanation here, we promise,” Riddler added. Robin growled and spun around the  masked man's reach only to find him once again directly blocking him from Riddler. How in the dickens did he know exactly where Robin was going to strike before Robin himself knew? And why on earth was he protecting the Riddler? “Supes, we could use a hand here,” the masked man said, still obnoxiously calm, once again blocking Robin's fist and this time circling his hand around Robin's wrist to twist his arm behind his back. In a blink, Robin was lifted into the air by his collar, the blue and red suited man holding him at arm's length. Robin continued to struggle for a moment, but finally Batman came into view, frowning up at him. Seeing Batman's disapproval took every bit of wind from Robin's sails, and he deflated instantly. If Batman didn't think he needed to fight, then he probably didn't need to.

So as you can see, I just kinda fill in the details with each draft!

Which is where we come to the optional second draft. I try, I really do try, to do a full second draft of everything I write. I always am glad to have done one, once it's done. The problem is, I really do have very limited energy, and anything longer than a chapter or two just doesn't get finished if I try to give it a full second draft. I've instead been doing really vigorous line edits, which I don't have an examples of because those are done in the same document as the first draft!

Now, you're probably wondering why on earth I gave a smut content warning at the beginning of this post. WELL.

I am calling myself out as a newbie when it comes to the art of smut writing. My 5+1 fic, the one where literally every single part has extremely explicit smut, has the following in the zero draft:

Yes, that is not one, not two, but three "cue smuts." Clearly I was new at this (affectionate)

Shout out to past!me for this in the last part though, because at least it actually has some semblance of blocking even if it is still extremely lacking:

The kissing escalates (as it often does) to smut over the desk (though Dick does try to move the documents out of the way, even if Bruce is growling at him to leave it alone; he doesn't want to be the reason Tim has another caffeine-induced breakdown).

I didn't figure this out until I was actually writing this fic, but it turns out I not only need to block in regular action scenes, I also need to block in the smut, because otherwise I will be sitting there having no fucking clue what to write (very affectionate)

So I now present what a zero draft of smut looks like! This is from a 5+1 in which there are five times Bruce and Dick fuck because of Poison Ivy's sex pollen and it "doesn't mean anything," plus one time they fuck because they actually want to:

Dick asks if they can take off their suits, it's too hot he's too hot, and Bruce says okay, that's a good idea, and internally he's panicking because oh no. Oh no. But the moment the words are out he sees the relief in Dick's face, and realises Dick needs to be told what to do right now, so he tells him clearly to strip, it'll help. Once Dick is fully naked in the other seat, he turns to Bruce and asks if he needs help with his armor. His hand is tentatively, almost shyly stroking his cock, and Bruce is really struggling to not watch. He tells him no, he doesn't, and takes off the chest plate and arm armor, but leaves what's left of his leg armor on. He decides he can safely put his hand under his boxers, but Dick makes a little noise, and when he looks over he can clearly see Dick watching him stroke himself. Oh fuck. He's cumming before he even realises it, his boxers getting wet and sticky and his cock still so maddeningly hard and he strokes himself through it, unable to stop himself from moaning even as he tries to keep himself in a clinical mindset. Dick asks to see him, and Bruce, despite knowing what a bad, horrible idea this is, pulls down his boxers to reveal his cock. Dick shifts his hand on his own cock to mimic what Bruce is doing, and Bruce has the horrible realisation that he doesn't even really know how to jerk himself off. Dear God, hopefully Alfred stays the fuck out of the Cave tonight.

So it's really just more of the same general blocking directions and vibes!

Another thing of note for zero drafts, I try to use as few words as possible to get what I need across. These are only ever intended to be seen by myself and a beta, assuming anyone else besides me even sees them at all, so I use slang and shorthand and leave notes for myself in the text itself

This can be a bit weird for when I show it to betas (or anyone else, for that matter!) because there are some fics where the tone or the vocabulary in the zero is incredibly modern despite the fic being in a historical or pre-modern setting!

And I have yet to actually write the first draft of that one, so I'm going to give you the first draft of the "Cue more smut (but this time against the batmobile 😌)" scene so that you can see the difference between the blocking and an Actual Scene:

Bruce had turned his back to him, bracing himself against the batmobile, and Dick took hold of Bruce's hip to hold him steady when he slid a finger into his hole. A soft moan was all he got in verbal response, but Bruce pushed against Dick's finger despite Dick's best efforts to do this slowly. Chuckling under his breath, Dick slid in a second finger, relishing in the clench of Bruce's muscle as he began working him open. “Easy, B,” he said softly, leaning over him enough to move his hand from Bruce's hip to his cock. Bruce growled and arched into his touch, taking in Dick's fingers completely. “Someone's in a rush tonight, huh?” He didn't get a verbal response, not that he ever did. Bruce rarely spoke while full, relying instead on nonverbal communication to indicate his needs. It hadn't taken long for Dick to become acquainted with his movements back when they started this; after all, fucking was no different from fighting, not for them, not when they had flown side by side across Gotham for more than half of Dick's life. And Dick knew Bruce would always try to get him to rush just a little, knew he'd give in like he always did, wanting to have his cock inside Bruce as soon as physically possible just as much as Bruce did. He wasted no more time, sliding his fingers out and releasing Bruce's cock just long enough to slick up his own. The small whine from Bruce at the loss of contact ought to be ignored, ought not be acknowledged, and Dick knew that, but he couldn't resist leaning over to kiss the small of Bruce's back. Bruce huffed at him, glaring over his shoulder. Dick met his eyes with a grin. Then Dick gripped Bruce's hip again, holding him steady while Bruce leaned back to meet him, and slipped into his tight heat. There was a soft moan from Bruce the moment he bottomed out; Dick leaned forward again to kiss up his spine, keeping his cock buried deep even while Bruce began to rock back into him.

I do think the fic for @ful-crum would be easier if I had proper blocking for the smut, but also I do love a good challenge and you live and you learn, so I'm not super invested in going back and blocking in the smut at this point in time!

And honestly, once the line edits are done that's pretty much it!

I keep a little "posting info" doc for each and every fic I write, to which I add tags as I come to them in writing, so that I don't have to think about what needs to be tagged at the end after I've already forgotten what I've written. That has saved my butt so many times ngl, especially for longfics!

But really what keeps me from posting more often, despite how much I write, is that I fully finish fics before I post them, even if I'm posting them on a weekly or whatever basis. This is mostly because I can't guarantee when I'll need to randomly take several months off of writing, and I don't want to leave anything unfinished, but also because I don't want to actually end up leaving something unfinished for a few years until I cycle back into the fandom

And that's it!! Thanks for tuning in to this little master class :) If I can clarify anything please let me know; I tried to explain everything that I thought needed it but I can never tell what others will need more clarification on!!

And also, thanks again for asking this!! I don't know many people who do full drafts, or even many people who don't completely pants everything they write, and so I'm always excited to discuss my process!! I also am a firm believer in "take what helps and leave the rest," so if you find something in my process that sounds like something you'd like to do, give it a whirl!! I think it's super important to share the different kinds of processes there can be for writing, because everyone really writes so differently, you know?

Anyway, thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoyed my shitty early drafts (very affectionate)!!

[hellothere-generalangsty]

It's way past my bedtime ans my cat is sleeping-purring next to me but I thought I'd post the process of the @ailani-reillata Ailaniversary art I made today just to talk a bit more about it

Disclaimer: doing traditional art is cool until you need to scan it or post a picture of it 😂 also kinda long post below so ofc no obligation at all to read it!

Phase one: Sketching the Idea

My inspiration for the posture was a Yara Flor comic strip I found on Pinterest. Yara looks over her shoulder and her hair falls on the side of her face, and I loved the way it framed her face and thought it would look great with Ailani's hair.

I drew a little doodle on the page to help me visualize how the hair would be divided, and focused on 3 main parts (the lines, the bubbles, the empty space) which would - supposedly- help me during the lineart stage. Below are images of the final sketch.

I was hesitant on adding details to her arms, such as the folds of a dress, but I was so anxious about ruining the drawing I abandonzd that idea. I was considering adding her tattoos and was still not decided at this stage of the drawing.

Phase 2: Line-ing the Art

Is that even a real word? Idk, I'm too tired to English properly so we will say it is. Following the sketching phase was naturalle the lineart phase, which is one of my favorite stage when drawing. I bought new inking pens too so I was able to test them out, and it went quite well!

As you can see, the ribbons, outline of the skin and facial features have been done with my new pens, and i was quite happy with the result! It gives a more natural look to the whole drawing in my opinion.

At this stage I decided not to add her arm tattoos and consider this version of Ailani as the one you would find in the early chapters of Begged and Borrowed Time, so before she would get her tattoos.

Phase 2.5: Line-ing the Hair

This stage has it's own part because it was really fun to do! The inspiration for the way I draw hair comes from @/ssavaart (aka Scott Christian Sava on Youtube). I've been following him for a while now and I'm trying to push my art beyond my comfort zone and try new stuff thanks to him, and having fun with drawing hair is one of these things!

Look how beautiful these curls are. I'm not trying to toot my own horn or anything, but I'm really proud of the drawing at this stage 😂 it's the perfect moment where the inking went well and I have not yet ridked myself with the watercolours - so I always take a long sight (and tons of pictures) to celebrate reaching this stage without incidents.

Phase 3: Watercolours

Here comes the difficult part. It always makes me nervous because I always fear ruining my drawing and all the efforts I put into it by doing the watercolours. But I love the medium too much and if I want to get better I need to practice. So, testing the waters, I finally dive head first into this crucial stage.

The watercolouring goes well, I'm overall satisfied enough to take some pictures and even try to scan it, with the hope that the scanned rendering will be better than the usual "photographing and editing" I do with my phone.

Spoiler alert: the scan was NOT better than the pictures, and no amount of editing could change that. (Or maybe I am just very bad at editing.) So, back to my "photographing and editing" habits, I somehow managed to get a good enough result:

I still feel unsatisfied as I find these digital versions do not properly render the visuals I have on paper, IRL. With the digital versionsw the hair is either so dark we don't see the details, or too bright, the colours are too warm and light... And while Ailani looks light-skinned, the paper version has these visible brown tones that I struggled to find on the digital version, even when editing the pictures. The closest I got is the tone you see on the first picture, but the image is not lighted enough so the overall quality of the picture is a bit lessened by that.

Still, I won't complain too much, because overall it was a very fun drawing to do, I enjoyed every stage of it and I would love to do another piece like this! But for now I will go to sleep because it is Way Past My Bedtime 😂

If you've made it this far, thank you for your attention, feel free to let me know which stage is your favorite and what you liked most (or disliked most) about this drawing!

I for one really had fun doing Ailani's lips, as well as filling her hair, and colouring her eyes! 😊

[thevulturesquadron]

Hi! I just want to say that WOW you are an amazing artist. Your anatomy and colouring are just breathtaking. How long have you been drawing?

I am a thirty year old baby at art and trying to improve and push through being bad at art, but i'll be honest, it's frustrating having hands that just cant make what i am seeing in my head! Basically... how long do you think it took you to make art that is kind of good? And do you have any tips?

What??!! Thank you so much!!!!! 💜💜💜

I have no words, really. I always feel like I am such a fake when it comes to art because I draw once every 5 years under the impulse of a hyperfixation or another, and I feel like I never take the time to improve. You are too sweet, I don’t deserve it!

I’ve been doodling here and there since I was in highschool, but only seriously picked it up in my 20s. And trust me when I say ‘here and there’. I used to try my hand for a couple of months and then it would take years to go back into the mindset of wanting to do more and better. It’s been like this ever since. I just do things when I have too much love for something and I need to let it out somehow. But in all honesty I feel like I started to be confident with myself and my range only when I hit my 30s so what I am saying is - it’s never too late, as long as you return to it no matter how rusty you feel. But that feeling of never being good enough compared to what you envision - be it art or writing - that’s never going to go away, you just need to conquer it and accept that every piece you make is another step towards getting better. And I know it sounds like a cliché but try not to put any pressure on yourself because of that either -  even if you end up drawing once in a blue moon like me, it counts. It really does! And sometimes you get a bit proud of what you do, sometimes you’ll feel like you learnt nothing. Knowing and understanding that - that it’s not just a way up, that it has highs and lows - has been the one thought that has always kept me going. Gosh, when it comes to tips I feel like there are so many other artists here that are better equipped to help than I am, but I’m happy to share a couple of ‘quick/dirty first stops' that have saved me from giving up:

References!!! Don’t EVER be afraid of using references especially when learning anatomy. Look for poses that inspire you, gather angles for hands, feet, eyes. You are not cheating, you are learning. If you are like me also, and drawing/sketching is a hobby and not a career, using references for poses comes with no strings attached. I can’t stress enough how important it is to use references. 

Colours: I. suck. at. picking. colours. Trust me. Most of the things I draw I leave as sketches because my brain can’t comprehend colour theory so when I do end up adding colours it feels like a miracle each time it looks ok. So I use palettes. There are sites online but also most tools for digital art offer ways to create colour pallets. Sample & drop is your friend! 

Also depending on what tools you are using, don’t shy away from playing with colour balance, brightness, curves or from experimenting with colour overlay layers to unify the look. 

In general, based on what program you use to draw - look for simple tutorials to get familiarised with it. I use Procreate and to this day I am amazed about how many ‘cheats & tricks’ it has. 

Probably a beginner move but one thing I rely on is Pinterest - I create boards for poses, references, colour pallets. So that when I get an impulse to draw and I am not sure where to start or what colours to use I have a library of things I saved in time! 

Hope this helps! Again, I don’t consider myself a real artist, I don’t sell any of my work and I just post what I create here out of love for a fandom or another. BUT I am always happy to share the little I know or learned along the way so don’t hesitate to ask! <3 

[darklydeliciousdesires]

From Blood, Love and Courage - Chapter Nineteen.

So, guys. We’re almost at the end of the story, the next chapter seeing us to the close. I’ve really enjoyed writing this and want to thank you all for your devotion to engaging with it :) you make it worth the effort. 30 notes will be to unlock the last part!

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen

Words - 4,560

Tag list - In the comments, please message to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“Cage!”

“Yes, that’s your cage.”

“Charlie cage!”

“Uh huh.”

“Asshole!”

Taza snorted with laughter, shaking his head and feeding the bird another dried raisin. “You’re still not fond of Hank then, huh?” He was taking five minutes to breathe, after lugging boxes all morning into Angel and Lily’s new abode, a mere three weeks after they’d found it. The landlady had said she’d wanted someone in the property as soon as possible, Angel making that happen by paying an extra month on his former residence, Lily’s too in lieu of giving more reasonable notice, meaning the amazing three-bedroom home they’d found had become theirs with the kind of speed he was seeking it to. He needed something to keep her mind off the whole Johnny Boswell debacle, Lily becoming very frustrated over the fact her vengeance upon him would be delayed in the coming.  

“Glasses!” Charlie chirped, ambling close.  

“No, stop that.” he scolded, jerking his head away from the beak that came into his peripheral vision, the bird obsessed as ever with his eyewear. Following Angel and Hank inside, he watched them place the cage down over in the corner, where Lily had designated for it to be put, the lady herself currently making another trip from her apartment, Jodie following in her car, both of the vehicles once again loaded to the brim. “Go on in there, then.” He spoke, opening the cage and crouching slightly for Charlie to scamper off.  

“No!”

“Charlie,” Angel warned, pointing. “Don’t you be sassy!”  

“Fuck you!”

“Hey, don’t you make me use your government name, get in the damned cage.”

Taza couldn’t help but laugh.  

“Charlie Horacio Armstrong, get in there, now!” Angel pointed, raising his eyebrows. “I ain’t playing, homeslice.”

“Charlie’s a good boy.” Off he hopped, Taza shutting him in, the bird looking around before beginning to preen himself.  

“He’s been mad about it all morning,” Angel spoke, lifting his black vest up and wiping his clammy face on it. “He hates having his routine messed with.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like change, do you, bird?” He received a disgruntled squark in reply, laughing softly through his nose. “Alright, what’s next?”

“Kitchen stuff.” Off they went to the van. Most of the bigger items of furniture had arrived way earlier, Angel hiring a U-Haul for that job, the couple deciding to get rid of his couch and armchair since Lily’s were newer and a little bigger, much too large for her former apartment, he’d always thought, but looked great in the lounge of their new home.  

Once Lily had arrived back, she began unpacking a few bits and pieces in the kitchen, turning the fridge on (thank goodness it came with the property, as Angel’s was on the way out and hers didn’t belong to her and had stayed at the old apartment) and putting away the two boxes of beer within it she’d bought for the guys, hearing a clicking noise approaching.  

“Hey Lily! Is leopard my colour? Look man, I think I pull these off!” Coco called, entering the kitchen, walking with careful, exaggerated steps, wearing a pair of her very high heeled sandals.

“Take those off!”  

“Nah, chica, I like ‘em! I need a little height! Hey yo, Jodie! Toss me that!” he walked out again, Lily hearing Angel snorting with laughter, Coco then turning back to her, wearing one of her wide brimmed hats and a pair of her sunglasses. “You can’t tell me I ain’t pretty when you know damned well that I am!”  

“You look ridiculous,” Angel laughed, shaking his head, giving him a playful kick up the ass, Coco’s arms flailing at high speed as he tried to regain his balance.  

“Damn, how’d you girls do this? It's like being on stilts!” he exclaimed, coming back into the kitchen, Jodie coming up behind him and grabbing his hips, giving him a good dry hump.  

“Yeah, that look is really doing it for me, baby,” she announced, smacking his ass for good measure, Angel, Lily and Taza falling apart completely.  

“To answer your question, they don’t. They get a few hours in and complain, the shoes come off, and then you have a wailing drunk chick on your back with her shoes in one hand and her purse in the other at 2am,” Angel replied, pulling a face at Lily as she scowled. “What? You did that last Friday, both you and your little friend here complaining about numb toes, me and my brother having to carry you both to the next bar.”

Laughter abounded, but no more so than at Coco, still trying to balance, walking around bow legged, his arms wide and windmilling.  

“Coco, you should probably know the last time I had those shoes on was when your friend over there was piledriving me against the bedroom door. Left some really nice heel dents in his butt cheeks, too,” Lily informed him lightly, leaning against the fridge with a raised eyebrow, Angel winking at her. That had been a fun night.

His face was aghast. “Oh god, no!” The shoes were kicked off at speed. “I’ve probably got scabies now or some shit!”

“Honey, that’s a skin disease that dogs get,” Jodie informed him, lifting a heavy bottomed casserole dish from a box and placing it down on the island.  

“Exactly!” Coco shouted, walking past Angel, getting clipped around the head for it. He and Taza headed back to Angel’s old place in the van, Jodie going out to the curb when Hank called for her, EZ returned from his trip from there in the U-Haul.  

“You gotta go back to your old place again?” Angel asked, draping an arm around her shoulder, Lily moving to snuggle him.  

“Nope, all done and keys returned. It was a little sad, saying goodbye to it, but damn, I’m loving all this space we have now.” Their new abode was definitely a lot bigger than either was used to, about three times the size of Angel’s old place, and Lily’s old apartment could fit in the space of the new lounge and kitchen alone. It also had something else neither was used to, being a bungalow and an apartment dweller respectively; an upstairs.  

It was where they moved to later that day after everyone had left, just Lily and Angel putting their new bed up, the latter cursing a hell of a lot at the screws, doing the completely standard male thing and abandoning the instructions that came with it, deciding that the black iron, four poster canopy bed wouldn’t be all too challenging. What kept him going through his annoyance was the thought of tying Lily to it. After all, that was exactly why she’d chosen it.  

It had been a month since their sex life had resumed, and now almost three since her attack. She still suffered nightmares because of it, probably about two per week, but knowing that at least two of the men who had done what they did to her were dead and gone went a long way to helping her heal from it. For everything else, she had Angel. He had to remind himself sometimes, that she was still on a long road, little instances taking him by surprise when he inadvertently freaked her out.

“Oh fuck, sorry, sorry,” he apologised later that evening, while they were fetching groceries from the local market, needing a break from unpacking. He’d approached her without word, putting his hand on her shoulder, Lily throwing the box of cereal she’d been holding into the air in fright. He’d very neatly caught the Cheerio's mid-air, though, placing them into the cart, Lily steadying herself with a couple of deep breaths.  

“it’s okay, I just... I get spooked out sometimes,” she lamented, feeling herself begin to calm again. Being alone was still something she wasn’t a hundred percent comfortable with where going out was concerned, her habits changed slightly. Angel now came with her to the store, she could only manage short walks to places on her own, and if she was in the house by herself, she always kept her gun close by. It was taking a while for her to iron out her issue that she was capable of looking after herself, that confidence in her ability to do just that still lacking, even with her return to training as of a week ago.

He smiled weakly, kissing her head. “I know, and I need to remember that. I think I get distracted by how well you’re doing in other respects.” It was a complex field to navigate, knowing that whereas he could hold her down by her neck and pound the living hell out of her in the middle of the bed and she’d be absolutely fine with it, if he didn’t announce his presence when walking up to her from behind, he’d likely startle her. She had her moments of finding herself again, though, and his pride grew with every one of them. Take the previous week, for instance, when overheard her giving some guy at the yard an absolute tirade over his repeated haggling with her over the price of iron, demanding to speak to a man.  

‘Motherfucker, as far as you’re concerned, I am the damned man, and if you don’t want what we’re offering then feel free to pack your shit up and drive on over to the next nearest scrapyard, which is twenty miles north of here. Up to you, but I don’t have all day to deal with you and your fucking chauvinism.’ Oh yes, he’d been very proud, standing outside of the office and hearing that, grinning widely as he’d eavesdropped.  

The man had then gone right out to Bishop to complain about the ‘rude woman on reception’ calling him a chauvinist and a motherfucker, Bishop smiling with amusement before telling him that maybe, he shouldn’t have treated her like a chauvinistic motherfucker if he didn’t want to be called out as one. He’d of course believed Lily’s side of it.  

“What are we doing for dinner, getting something here or ordering takeout?” she asked, throwing a very large bag of oats into the cart before turning the aisle, Angel grabbing a few boxes of granola bars and placing those in, too.  

Right on cue, he yawned. “I’m not down for anything that doesn’t involve opening the door, taking a box and sitting down on the couch again.”

“Pizza it is. I’m picking up ice cream while I’m here, though. I might want to let it melt on your chest later and lick it off.” The way he did a double take and rapid eyebrow raise had her in utter hysterics. It felt good, to be sexually playful with him again, since she knew he very much thrived on it. Not necessarily having ice cream eaten off him, but he loved it when she flirted with him, whether casually or covertly. Just like she did the following evening.  

“Baby, you up or down?” he called, entering the house and not immediately being able to locate her.

“I’m in the mood for doing both.” Walking around from her concealed place behind the kitchen door, she revealed herself, standing there in deep red satin underwear, and a very suggestive smile.  

Angel didn’t speak for a few seconds, his breath held fast, eyebrows rising. “Well, god damn.”  

Her smile grew wider. “The exact reaction I was looking for.”

“Oh, sexy assed mamacita of mine,” he began, shrugging his kutte off and placing it over the arm of the chair. “That ain’t my reaction.”

She raised an eyebrow. “It isn’t?”

“Nah.” He advanced on her quickly, making her squeal. “This is my fucking reaction.” He lifted her as he ran her back into the kitchen, placing her atop the island as they enjoyed a heated exchange of kisses, hands stroking her smooth, pale skin. “Fuck, I want you so badly.” He groaned, her fingers unfastening the buttons of his dark blue denim shirt as he pulled her underwear off, her legs entwining around his waist while he freed his cock, Angel immediately sinking into her, her moan pouring from her lips to his as he bit her cupids bow, tongue snaking with hers, hands tangling in her hair. “You’re so fucking sexy, and I love you so damned much.”  

Those words went right to where his cock arrowed into the silky heat of her, her hands grasping his shoulders as she panted, overcome by the pressure of him dragging her walls, the passion of him, the heat of the moment. His language of love was steeped in frequent verbal declarations, but the physical is where he thrived, Angel craving the intimacy of such almost as much as the sexual thrill, the need to ascend to the edges of heaven, and take her with him while he did.  

To have that side of their relationship resumed in full swing again was exhilarating for her, to feel so wanted and desired, everything within that had been so tainted now back to blooming wildly with erotic incandescence. Shrugging himself out of his shirt and kicking off the rest of his clothes, he unfastened her bra, yanking it off and with a splayed hand to her chest, the metal of his heavy rings cool against her hot skin, kissing a blazing constellation over her tits, sucking on her nipples as he gripped her thighs, slowing his thrusts down, but daggering her hard, forcing each feral wail from her throat as she tightened around him.  

“Yeah, look at you take that dick. Fuck, you look so hot.” he praised, pulling her legs over his shoulders as he watched himself sinking in and out of her, his shaft covered in the silky gloss of her arousal, the sight transfixing. He felt her flutter on him, knowing she keened for more friction, speeding back up again until she was screaming, hands clutching his forearms as her nails dug in.  

“Oh my god, fuck me, ohhh!” And oh, how he did. He pounded her on the island until she came so hard, she couldn’t speak in the aftermath, his own undoing leaving him trembling pleasantly, resting his head down against her heaving chest. “Fuck, I’m so dick drunk.” she panted, Angel snorting with laughter.  

“You gon’ be steaming by the end of the evening, then.” She was, too. They ate, watched a movie, shared a joint and then, Angel had her bent over the arm of the couch, pounding her vigorously,  

“You’ve fucking put numbing cream on, haven’t you?” she groaned, her body trembling to orgasm number two.  

“Yup” he admitted, grinning as he grasped the back of her neck, his other hand striking her butt in a hard, hard spank. “And you’re gonna lie there and love every second of taking it until you can’t walk, querida.” Keeping Lily happy; it was number one on his agenda, ever since she’d learned she would have to wait to get her revenge on the last remaining gutter dweller who had raped her.  

In some ways, he was glad that her fear, sadness and trauma had given way to anger, but in others, he saw very clearly that if she focused upon it too much, it would begin to poison her. He was able to separate that within himself, bide his time, it was, after all, part of being an outlaw. He could hang onto his need for vengeance until the time was right. Lily, though? She was understandably frustrated by it, and it was slowly bleeding further into her thoughts. While he watched her make amazing progress with her recovery, he also witnessed that need to remove the very last physical factor in what had happened to her take over at times.  

“Sweet pea, it’s dark, you only just got back from training, too. Come on, give it a rest for the night,” he called to her from the back door, watching her beat the hell out of the freestanding punching man she’d bought, her foot hitting the chest, shoulder and head in quick succession, spinning off her foot and landing a kick from her other leg straight into its face.  

“Nah, I’m good.” Except he knew very well that she wasn’t. He wasn’t about to argue with her about it, though. At least she was venting it out, he had to concede. He was just concerned with exactly how much venting she was doing.

Coming into the office at the yard the following morning, he was trying to find Taza, wanting to pull him aside and talk with him about it, get a little perspective from his wise VP. What he found though was hilarity, courtesy of Bishop and Charlie.  

“Sorry, excuse me,” Bishop spoke to the man on the other side of the counter, turning to Charlie, who was sitting on his shoulder, yelling utter nonsense. “What do you want, what?”  

More nonsense.  

“Snacks? You want food, alright, hold on.” He rifled around the desk, looking for his snack box, finding it and pulling out an almond. Charlie took it, and then promptly hurled it onto the floor. “Alright, your Tigger toy? Here it is, you want this?” More frantic jabbering ensured, Angel going over eventually, tapping his shoulder.  

“C’mon, homie. Quit your sass.” Immediately, the bird settled, beginning to groom his beard.  

“The hell was all that about?” Bishop inquired, raising an eyebrow.  

“You know when Cady is overtired and goes nuts? He’s the same, gets all spicy when he doesn’t nap, don’t you?”

“Spicy!” Charlie squawked softly, shaking his head, pushing it beneath Angel’s hand when he petted him.  

“I’ll get him out of here.” Bishop thanked him, Angel leaving the office. “Such a G, Charlie, with your shouting and shit.” he laughed, the bird pacified for his presence, settling as he walked over to the clubhouse, finding Taza outside, done for the day, enjoying a cold beer. He followed his eyes over to the side of EZ’s trailer, where Lily was beating the shit out his punchbag, taking the time from her lunchbreak to do so.  

“It’s good to see her returning to form, isn’t it?” He gestured towards her, Lily spinning and landing a flying head kick, the bag bearing the brunt with a loud thud.  

Angel scratched his beard, taking a seat beside him. “Hmm, I’m not so sure.” Taza raised an eyebrow of inquiry, reaching to ruffle Charlie’s chest feathers, the bird scampering onto his arm and walking up to his shoulder. “It’s all this shit with Johnny, having her chance to get even delayed. She’s pissed as hell about it, and I’d be lying if I said that didn’t give me concerns. I mean, is it healthy, that level of rage, where she’s training three times a damned day just to try and get it out of her? I guess at least she is letting it out, but you know what I mean.”

Taza was contemplative for a few seconds, before he cleared his throat. “Was it healthy for her to be as traumatised and frightened as she was? I’d count that as a very hard no. I think that you are perhaps being a little hypersensitive in wanting to protect her. Her emotions, she has to deal with them as they come to her.  

“We’ve seen many so far since her attack, and helped her move through them as she’s learned to process, to deal with everything in the wake of it, what it left her with. We’re now at the angered, venomous stage. And we help her move through it, just like we did when she was frightened and small, when she physically clung to us for support and comfort. Once she gets her shot at him, she’ll be fine. I firmly believe she’ll be able to put it to bed once she knows we’ve put his body in an unmarked grave.”  

Angel nodded, a crease still denting his brow. “That’s something else I’m kinda struggling with. He deserves it, no questions there. But her handing it to him... I dunno, man. I want her to, but I don’t at the same time. With us, we know it comes with who we are. We’re outlaws, murderers by default. I can kill someone and usually not think twice about it, same for the rest of us, but Lily? She ain’t a killer.”

“She could be, not even in this context.” He inclined his head, Angel looking over to where she rained round kicks upon the punchbag. “One of those kicks to the head with the power that girl has within her, she could easily kill someone and not even mean to, so what if she means to? You sound like you’re scared it might change her. What Johnny put her through already has. See, that’s the thing about Lily; the only constant in her life has been change, and to survive, she has to adapt to it as she sees fit. From beating down other kids who tried to bully her in group homes, to now killing her last surviving rapist, it’s what she has to do in order to adapt to, and ultimately move past the change forced upon her.”

Angel picked at his thumbnail, pulling the cigarette he had from behind his ear and lighting it, making a mental note to go buy a couple more packs. “You’re right, shit man. You are.” He shook his head, sighing, marvelling at the way Taza had such a sight for these things, how well he knew Lily, too. Then again, reading people was always his strong point. “I just gotta let her get on with it, then.”

“You do,” Taza confirmed, smiling widely when he saw Lily approaching. “Nice form, kid.”

“Thanks, I like to think the break didn’t hamper me too much,” she confirmed, leaning down to give Angel a big kiss. “I’m going to shower and get back to work.”  

“I’m gonna try like fuck not to join you.”

Lily raised her eyebrows, smiling suggestively. “Don’t try too hard.” She sauntered into the clubhouse, Angel turning rapidly to look at Taza.  

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Go on, I’ll look after the bird.” Angel was out of his seat in less than two seconds. Even though it was her idea, he saw it as a good way to furtherly keep her happy. Maybe if he left her blissed out enough on an orgasm, her day wouldn’t end in her going to training and then hitting her own punchbag again as soon as she arrived home. It was all about little distractions, pacifying the rage he knew kept a hold of her tightly, if she let herself think on it too much. It was also being tough with her at times, for her own good.  

“Hey, what are you doing?” Lily exclaimed the following morning, Angel taking her phone from her after he’d seen what she was viewing. Johnny’s Instagram, his stories full of training videos, her face sour at witnessing him enjoying his time out in Thailand without a care in the world. He knew it stung her, of course, it did.  

“Trying to stop you from making this worse on yourself,” he began, sliding her phone into the pocket of his kutte, reaching to stroke her face. “Baby, you gotta stop. It’s eating you up, probably just as much as what he did to you, too. You’ll get your chance, but until then you need to quit watching him like a hawk. You know what I’m saying makes sense.”  

Her immediate thought was to yell at him, feeling as if he were treating her like a child, her face reflecting as much, until she forced herself to be thoughtful. No matter how much she didn’t like it, he was right. She was torturing herself. She began nodding. “Okay,” she breathed, resting her hands on his waist. “I see the point you’re making, I do. It’s just hard, now that I know it was him, everything swirling around inside of me.”

He was sympathetic to that. Of course, he’d suffered the same. He was better at controlling it all, though, for the final outcome. It came with being an outlaw. “I know, querida. I know. Just imagine how it’ll be when you finally do get to take him down, though. Motherfucker ain’t gonna know what’s hit him.”

Lily let him carry on that afternoon minding her phone for her, but of course there would be times over the coming weeks when he wouldn’t always be there to do such. Just like one instance the day after Lily knew Johnny would be landing on US soil again.  

Angel had been out on a run for the last two days, arriving home at just gone midnight, to a sight that at first, flooded him with panic. The lounge was in semi-disarray, the kitchen even worse after he’d carefully made his way through, broken glasses and plates littering the floor, and Lily sitting in the middle of it all, wide eyed, trembling, looking like she was pulsing with nothing but pure rage.  

“Sweet pea, what the fuck happened?” he asked quietly, his boots crunching over the broken glass, noticing her feet were cut open in several places. She’d literally gone berserk. Crouching at her side, he wondered at first whether she’d gone into shutdown, her huge blue eyes unblinking, not reacting to his presence.

“They got him.”

He was confused for a second, not putting two and two together. “Who?”

Her phone was in her hand, Lily unlocking the screen and showing him the article she had found, after a few comments on Johnny’s Instagram page had alerted her to the fact that something big had gone down upon his arrival home.  

Angel took it from her, reading the headline from the news website.  

‘Amateur MMA fighter arrested on multiple rape and assault charges.’ He continued. ‘San Francisco resident and up and coming MMA fighter, Johnny Boswell was arrested last night upon his arrival at LAX in connection to multiple counts of rape, battery and drugging as many as fifteen separate women. The revelations come in the wake of Mr Boswell leaving the country after his former partner, Tyra Kennedy, as well as several other women, all came forward to authorities to give detailed accounts of his abuse. Mr Boswell remains in the custody of the Richard J Donovan Correctional Facility, bail hearing pending.’

Fuck. It was a lot to take in, and Angel didn’t know where to begin with it, because on the one hand, if he was found guilty of all fifteen of the charges against him, possibly more if this prompted any other victims out there to come forward, Johnny was about to be seeing the inside of a cell for very long stretch ahead of him. On the other, though, Lily now had her chance to exact her revenge ripped from her grasp. And she couldn’t even come forward either, because too many questions would be asked, they’d find the link between him and the other men, and police searches for the one buried way out in the desert would likely follow such.  

All Angel could do in that moment was pick Lily off the floor and hold her as she began to cry. Anything else could wait.

[sollucets]

Hi, this is Dani (aka @5racha) and I just saw your "event 12: loss" gif set (which is a spoiler for me but i don't care) and I absolutely love the fact you can do black and white with the gold showing. Is there a tutorial out there how to gif black and white with a colour? I mean, an easier way than to just colour each frame individually. Do you have one or is there one? I've been wondering about that for a while now and your gif set is looking absolutely incredible.

ah hello!! thank you for liking my set ;u; <3 fair warning, i notably love talking about this kind of thing and i am incredibly longwinded so i'll get the direct answers out of the way first and then i'll ramble at you about my own gif process for a bit

here is a color isolation tutorial (found via @usergif, who have many such good things). i havent specifically used this one but it's good and im basically about to rephrase it for many words

and basically.... there are ways to do it and sometimes it can be genuinely quite easy (hue/saturation is your friend!) but if your scene is problematic (lots of movement, the color youre trying to isolate is a skintone, low contrast between colors etc) it's still going to be really hard, and in the end some things Will be an every-frame or close to it kind of deal if youre still determined to do it

my eclipse prefects set basically demonstrates -- the blue ones were really really easy, since you just have to desaturate all colors except blue. the reds, because some of the backgrounds also contained red and because it's a skintone you then need to readjust, is much harder. you can kind of tell by the curtains in the first gif how this might cause a problem

and now im going to talk your ear off trying to explain applying that to the gaipa set in. far too many words. sorry

this set, being that the color is "yellow", is one of these problem children, some more than others -- for example, i tried to do the first one like this but gave up (check out the cool gray spots near his temple and his collarbone :'D)

the middle two were problematic using keyframes too, but a bit easier because they have less movement and the backgrounds are also darker, so ill try and show you, in case it helps??

here is the base coloring (ignore the orange skin, i knew i wasnt keeping this and also moonlight chicken is kind of like that)

then, the bw layer is added (i use gradient maps for grayscale usually), and then i crop out the section i wanted to stay colored using the ps pen tool -> path -> selection and then use that to apply a layer mask. you can also kind of handpaint this sort of thing if that's easier for you

the next couple layers up are color adjustments for this section, to make the yellow that already exists at base brighter & tone down the red. i have four more layers at the very top to do this and adjust the colors golder & more vibrant.

now then the actual trick is in keeping the layer mask on the correct part of the gif. so if i just did the layer mask on the b/w layer like that and didnt keyframe, because this gif moves itd stop working - it isnt Super movement, so it's not actually that big of a difference, but you can see (no keyframes on the right:)

the gray creeps onto the vase, the table, and the upper part of the flowers. if you overcorrect in the other direction, the skin of the woman right behind the flowers will become visible. so ! problem solving: keyframes

that's how it looks like - you start at the beginning of the gif with your layer mask selected, then click the stopwatch next to 'layer mask position'. then i usually use the move tool and arrow keys just to shift it along with movement of the object, and you press the yellow diamond at each point you do so

this is not foolproof and im still sort of new at it, so it can sometimes look odd. case in point if youve spent as long staring at this gif as i have you probably noticed the keyframe movement (it kind of jumps.....) but i decided i could live with that. sometimes you just have to figure out where your standards for 'looks bad' are, too OTL

gif 3 is like this too -- the only notable difference is that, instead of just desaturating the colors i didnt want i covered over them with a gold gradient map layer

so, basically, all of these gifs do originally have yellow in them, but i bass boosted the shit out of it and also colored over it in some places, and i used keyframes to fix movement

i hope this is at least interesting & that you can get use out of the tutorial, hehe. thank you for asking! enjoy finishing moonlight chicken, my belovedest of series