#and i haven't even finished many drawings this year
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c0oki3cat · 7 months ago
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Posting this shitpost on here too cuz uuuuuhhhhh why not-happy 4/13 !1!!
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fragglerockopinions · 5 months ago
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vampthropologist · 10 months ago
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New selfship! I call them HarV (Harvey/Harv/V) - ref img
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homosexualcitron · 5 months ago
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save me t4t4t gay polycule save me
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attapullman · 8 months ago
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Pretend | Robert "Bob" Floyd
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Summary: You aren't sure what's worse: having to share a bed with the boy who was your first boyfriend who you haven't seen in years, or having to pretend he's your boyfriend when you wish he actually was.
Word Count: 4.4k
Warnings: f!reader, light smut, 18+ only as always, unprotected pinv, fake dating trope, one bed trope, lots of switching between present and past tense whoops
A Note From Mo: It's Choose-a-Fic! Thank you to everyone who voted and has been part of my 500 Follower milestone! Hopefully you like the fic I wrote just for you (with a little extra one bed trope as a special thank you)! 😘
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Coupe glasses tinkle and laughter rings out as the rehearsal dinner draws toward an end. Everyone’s had a little too much of the hotel’s signature white sangria. On your left, Isabel and Reuben are frozen in blissed smiles, the outdoor lights casting an ethereal glow. An idyllic night before the wedding.
You should be relaxed. You’ve had a little wine, the most delicious dinner, and tomorrow your college roommate is getting married at this stunning resort. But every time that big hand grazes your shoulder or his breath heats the skin of your cheek, you’re reminded none of this is real and you desperately wish it was.
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The only difference between six-year-old Robert Floyd and the man standing in front of you is the broad shoulders. Those pink cheeks are just as prominent and his eyes are wide behind updated corrective frames. Sandy hair politely brushed off his face. Even his thin lips warp in that same warm smile that instantly relieves tension. The only significant difference is those shoulders that fill out the entire doorway as he checks his rooming assignment with Isabel.
From where you stand behind her, suitcase in tow, you feel your cheeks warm and your gaze drop. You haven’t seen him since the engagement party where you muttered, “it’s a small world after all” more than once. It seemed all too coincidental that your college roommate would be marrying a guy who just happens to be in the same Navy squadron as your first grade boyfriend. 
To be fair, you had “dated” Bobby Floyd for a total of a week before your parent’s divorce landed you on the opposite side of the country. There hadn’t even been a formal breakup. He’d simply been the guy you jokingly referred to as your “first love” at wine nights. Occasionally you remembered his collection of vintage Coke bottle caps. 
He was practically a figment of your imagination until Isabel introduced you to the man in the nicely ironed pale blue button down and you sputtered out that you already knew each other.
You’re so lost in how bizarre the coincidence of it all is that you zone out through Bob’s check-in and the next few guests that arrive. It’s not until her line of relatives has dwindled that she remembers you’re sat behind her, sorting out the favors for after the reception. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have given you your card earlier!” she apologizes as she flips back over her clipboard to find your room number. It’s all forgiven, you were waiting to finish up your bridesmaid duties before checking in. Get the work out so you can slip on your bathing suit and enjoy the amenities - pool, sun, and cabana boys - before dinner tonight.
She hands you a room card and walks you through the map of the hotel. You miss the second half while gathering up all your items, mentally trying to remember exactly how many rights before a left. Dinner is at seven and anything else surely she will remind you. With a kiss to her cheek, you head off to your room to begin the fun part of this destination wedding.
The property is stunning, all sun-washed sandstone and lush tropical plants. Deep blue terry cloth draped over the sun loungers you would live on all weekend. Some sun to compliment what should be a flawless wedding weekend. Maybe you’d get lucky and one of Reuben’s hot Navy friends would join you for some eye candy. You deserved a little one-weekend-in-paradise romance.
Suite 4. It’s a little deflating to remember that you’re in this big suite alone because all the other bridesmaids have dates. A least you have some privacy. The intricately carved door accepts your room key and you push the heavy wood open, ready to change and relax.
W-why was Bob in your villa?
Standing amongst the floor-to-ceiling windows draped with ochre that overlook the ocean, white oak furnishing topped with plush linen bedding, and a trailing pothos overtaking the wall, was Bob Floyd - right in the middle of changing his shirt. Equally wide eyes taking you in as he held the bunched heathered grey cotton right in front of his head, thumbs through the head hole, mouth open in shock.
“What are you doing in here?”
What was he doing in here? This was your room. “Why are you in my room?”
Despite knowing he’s not in the wrong, his cheeks tinge a deep pink. Takes a moment to pop his head in the hole of his shirt and brush out the wrinkles. You cling to to the annoyance of him interrupting your afternoon instead of focusing on how toned he’s gotten as an adult.
“This is my room. Suite 4. See?” He holds up a card identical to yours, the glossy ‘4’ reflecting the sunlight. The same ‘4’ that looks back at you. 
Clearly there’s been some sort of mistake, someone at reception accidentally typing in the wrong number while going about their busy day or Isabel reading her meticulous list wrong. An easy fix. 
You bite your lip. “Oh. Maybe I grabbed the wrong card. I’ll go find Isabel and sort it out.”
“I’ll come with you, she might have handed me the wrong card. Probably supposed to be sharing a bed with Fanboy.” He’s impossibly sweet as always. 
You have no idea who or what a Fanboy is, but you accept his company back to reception, leaving your bag in the room purely because the bridesmaid dress alone weighs a half ton. The walk back there - with a few long turns - is a tad awkward as you both walk in silence, occasionally jerking your heads in the direction to turn.
Isabel has wandered away from reception, and is now soaking in one of the poolside bars with Reuben, their lovesick smiles contagious. She gives you the warmest smile when you approach, face splitting in two as she takes in your companion. “Hey, you two! You get settled in okay?”
God, this is awkward. Thankfully before you can muster the courage, Bob steps in. “I think there’s been a mix up with one of our rooms.”
Her eyebrows furrow as takes in what he said. Eyes flit to her lounger where her clipboard of rooming assignment lies within her tote. Reuben sips his frozen margarita in casual interest, not involved in the logistics.
“Which room are you in?” Even without her clipboard, Isabel is pretty sure she knows who is in what room. She spent months perfecting these details.
You hold up the glossy ‘4’, now slightly sticky with your sweat.
“Four? Hmm, I’m pretty sure that’s right. Was there a problem with the key? Both your keys?”
You give her a bewildered look. “One of us has the wrong key. We’re not sharing a room.”
“Why not? Your prude parents aren’t here to care if you share a room with your boyfriend.”
Every muscle in your body freezes. What is she talking about?
And while you’re paralyzed on the spot, Reuben looks like he’s about to throw up the margarita. Because he knows exactly what just happened. And not only is it his fault, but he does not have a solution.
Before you can question Isabel, the pilot is throwing his arm around your shoulders and grabbing Bob’s elbow, whisking you two away, calling out to his confused fiancée not to worry, he’s got it handled. The controlled hands of a fighter pilot steering you back in the way of Suite 4 while his face reads like he’s watching a plane crash.
Reuben won’t answer any of your questions, holding up a palm while you sputter out the who, what, where’s? of what is going on. Bob silently allows himself to be directed, confusion upon his brow, but patient enough to wait for an explanation. 
Once you’re privately within the confines of Suite 4, the soft scent of bergamot and sandalwood wrapped around your bodies, Reuben finally confesses his mistake.
“Isabel thinks you two are dating.”
You expect to see eyeballs on the floor from how violently they pop out of your head. What? Bob doesn’t look much better. You two have barely spoken in decades, let alone are in a relationship! Why in the hell would Isabel think that?
Reuben drags a hand down his face, wishing he was back in the pool drinking. “When Bob over here told me that you two dated way back, I casually mentioned it to Is. When she asked the other week if he’d be good sharing a room, I thought she meant Fanboy or Harvard.”
You skip over the fact that Bob has talked about you to other people to focus on the details. “She meant me.”
“How was I supposed to know that?” By this point he’s rubbing the skin on the back of his neck raw, eyes wildly desperate. “Can you two share? It’s only two nights.”
Your eyes meet ocean blue as you both look at the single bed, then at each other. Bob intervenes calmly. “Why can’t you just tell her we need another room?”
Reuben crosses his arms across his chest, suddenly defensive. “We don’t have any other rooms. We booked the place out entirely. Short of Aunt Muriel keeling over, one of you would have to be at another hotel.”
“That’s fine,” you quip, grabbing your suitcase and ready to get the hell out of this situation.
“There’s nothing within a half hour drive. And you’re both in the wedding, that is not going to fly with Isabel.”
You’re tough, you can do hard things. Two nights at a gorgeous resort where you have to share a king-sized bed with the sweetest man on the planet? Could be so much worse. From a look at Bob’s face, he’s having the same realization.
And right as you’re about to tell Reuben that it’s not a big deal, he sends in the clincher. 
“You’re also gonna have to pretend you’re dating.”
“You’re joking.” Your tinny voice rings out in the room. You can do a lot of things - go to a wedding alone, sleep in the same bed as Bob - but you draw the line at pretending you’re dating someone you hadn’t seen until an engagement party six months ago. Nope, no way.
You look at Bob, standing with his hand resting low on his hip, watching this entire scene unfold. Giving him an expectant look, he smooths out his face and gives you a little nod. He’s on whatever team you’re on.
And just as you were about to tell Reuben to get lost, Isabel’s sweet face floods your mind’s eye. That happy smile she always greets you with, and her dismay that something had gone wrong with your room. Her perfectly planned out wedding weekend ruined by her misunderstanding a minor detail. She would insist that you have separate rooms, even if it interfered with plans, and she’d be upset - the smallest tinge of disappointment clouding her bridal smile.
Isn’t the job of a bridesmaid to make the bride not have disappointment?
And now, sitting here at the rehearsal dinner, warm conversation all around you, you can still hear yourself let out a large huff of breath and agree. “Alright, we can pretend for the weekend.”
It’s a decision you stand by, but doesn’t make the subtle way Bob has been playing your boyfriend the last 24 hours any easier. He plays devoted partner a little too well. Carrying your beach bag down to the water that afternoon when everyone wanted to sit by the pool, sweetly rubbing sunscreen into that spot on your back that you can never reach. Grabbing a drink for you when he went up to the bar. 
Your lonely wedding weekend is suddenly filled with this broad-shouldered Navy man who gives you a shy smile every time you make eye contact.
There wasn’t time to put in ground rules before Reuben threw you you to the wolves to socialize with the rest of the wedding party. When Isabel saw you, standing a healthy foot away from Bob and her sculpted eyebrow raised, it was the first test of this “relationship”. Your heart slamming in your chest as you slipped a hand around that thick bicep and rested your hot cheek against his shoulder. His own face fighting anxiety as he allowed you to set the pace. Isabel’s smile brightening as she beckoned you closer, instantly fawning over the two of you and the way Bob’s hand fits a little too nicely around your waist.
Thankfully the copious amount of relatives and friends constantly interrupting Isabel and Reuben prevented your friend investigating too close into this development in your love life. Happy to believe over some intentionally placed hands and the casual way he throws sweetheart in when asking if you want a drink.
“Now that I have you alone, why didn’t you tell me you were together? First loves reunited?!” Isabel drags you away to the other bridesmaids, Bob giving you a small wave as he joins the men. 
You shrug, making a show of looking at the hibiscus to avoid her eyes. Desperate for a believable lie. “I didn’t want to…uh, distract from your big day?”
She wraps you in a warm hug you don’t deserve. “Not distracting in the slightest. He’s the best, you’re so lucky!”
You throw a glance his way, watching his good-natured grin as Reuben’s groomsmen, mostly aviators he’s worked with over the years, joke and jostle on the other side of the lawn. It’s side glances like these that carry through the night; when he pulls your chair out for dinner, asks the waiter to refill your water, and offers you half of his dessert. When your eyes do meet, you drown in the twin oceans that twinkle back at you.
By the time you’re heading back to Suite 4 to share that big bed, you’re pretty sure you’re not pretending to like him anymore.
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You’re regretting not putting up the pillow barrier Bob so kindly offered to set up. It seemed childish at the time - you didn’t need a divider to stay on your side of the bed - but now you’re lying here in your little cotton pajamas you did not expect anyone to see and you can hear him breathing and the room is a little too warm. Every sense is on high alert and a pillow barrier would give you an inkling of privacy.
In the silhouette of the moonlight peaking through the curtains, you watch the planes of Bob’s face as he peacefully sleeps beside you. If he’s good looking in the daytime, he’s breathtaking at night. Pale eyelashes against his cheeks, lips slightly pouted, hair mussed from changing sides. You wish you could smooth your fingers over the planes of his face, appreciate the sharpness of his jaw, the roundness of his cheeks.
Tomorrow you have to pretend all over again to be in love with him. A feeling that’s already starting to creep inside you. A whole day of his gentle touches and laughs against your cheek. He was the perfect boyfriend that week in grade school, and even more perfect as an adult. Holding his hand made you want to never let go…which promptly made you want to jump out of your skin. 
This was a tiny white lie to get through Sunday morning. That was it.
You keep replaying the last moment before you retired back to your hotel room for the night. The drunken group sitting around the fire pit, a bottle of tequila making its way around the circle. Not enough chairs so you ended up in Bob’s lap, body cradled in the firm comfort of his chest. 
He made it so natural, the way his hand ran up and down your arm when you shivered in the night chill. You knew he could feel the shock up your spine when you noticed how intently he watched you during your story of how Isabel found a rat in your dorm room. He made you feel like the only person out there by the fire pit. The only person on this island.
When even the tequila couldn’t keep you warm any longer, the group disbanded in favor of cozy beds and hot showers. And even when no one else was in sight he still kept his arm around your shoulder to share his warmth, the pinching heels you’d shed in his hand as he asked whether you wanted to shower first.
Lips accidentally brushing your ear when he said he liked your dress; it matched the bougainvillea.
While you hadn’t spent much time together since your parents moved you away too long ago to remember, you were continually floored by how thoughtful he was still. He remembered how Isabel didn’t like ice, and that a few members of his squadron had allergies. Giving up his water because the woman next to him was without. Not to mention how he seemed to go the extra mile with you. All the years of boyfriends before this and not a single one had ever noticed you picked the pine nuts out of your salad; your new fake boyfriend requesting a fresh one sans nuts.
And it was borderline torture watching him get ready for bed post shower. Face and chest red from the scalding water and slick hair pushed back, towel slung a little too low as he dug through his suitcase. You were still speechless as he offered to put up a pillow barrier or something if it would make you more comfortable, making sure you knew he respected your boundaries.
His eyes were so blue without his glasses…
Caution to the wind, you run a finger over his cheek, brushing away a rogue eyelash and promptly turn away from him. Only one more day and you would be free of wanting a man that wasn’t yours.
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The Fitch wedding day was perfect. Wide smiles, bridal lace, stunning hydrangeas, and not a dry eye in the house when Isabel and Reuben officially became husband and wife. It was the storybook start to a happy ever after. 
The sunlight blessed ceremony was followed by a lantern-lit reception, dancing and drinking overtaking the sprawling beach-front lawn of the hotel. You stayed out until the evening ended, the wedding party laughing and overfilling glasses of champagne until the last lantern was blown out. 
You barely remembered your rooming/relationship situation until a warm hand was on your forearm, asking if you were ready to go back to the room. It’s entirely unfair how good he looks in his suit. All day you’ve admired it, from the moment he emerged from the bathroom asking for help with his bow tie to an hour ago, when the wedding party did one last rendezvous on the dance floor. 
Bob has an ease on the dance floor, clearly practiced, the hand on the small of your back gently guiding. A hand big and warm and more distracting than trying to remember your own footwork. The dark-haired woman he seems close with whooping out, “Look at those moves, Floyd!” every time you get close, her own date cheering along. 
You shake the memory from your brain as Bob walks you back to the room. Keep the pining to a minimum until you can get to the airport and not have to see him ever again. You’re doing this for Isabel, your own emotions have no place. Even as you watch him open the door to the room and welcome you inside, looking so perfectly boyfriend-shaped.
Your skin feels too hot, your head clouded by bubbles and loud poppers exploding into the sky. Shedding this satin dress and getting into a warm shower sounds like heaven, washing away the buzzing ill-content flooding your body since you joined the wedding group that morning hand-in-hand with Bob. But a broken zipper interrupts those plans.
“Bob?” He stills on his way to the bathroom, bow tie loose around his neck. You indicate to the stuck zipper you’re fiddling with, warmth flaring at the top of your cheeks at your predicament.
The tips of his ears flush as he walks to you, chest a breath away from your back, admiring the way the satin flows over your curves and dips. Takes a moment to gather your hair over your shoulder before reaching for the zipper. The skin of his pinky accidentally brushes your neck, twin breaths catching at the shock. 
Firm fingers guide the zipper onto the track. As they guide the cool metal down your back, the boiling point that has been simmering below the surface since yesterday afternoon comes to a head. The lace of your bra is visible. Now the silken band of your underwear. The air of the room is still, eagerly awaiting what happens next.
While his voice is shaky, his words are firm. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
Your head turns to the side, eyes catching his profile, too scared to look at him directly. 
“What are you pretending to do?”
His face falls into the crook of your neck, fingers tightening along the satin of your hips. “Pretending I’m doing our friends a favor. Pretending I’m not falling for you. Pretending every time I touch you it’s not the best part of my day.”
Your hand wraps around his, rough skin and satin beneath your fingers. Needing to tether yourself to reality to make sure this isn’t a champagne-fueled dream that he’s professing against your neck. 
“In that case, I don’t want to pretend anymore either.”
While you can’t see him, you can feel his realization against your skin. Brow furrowing, lips parting. The soft brush of his nose as he straightens up, uses his hands to turn you to him. Finally forced to look at each other amidst the information divulged.
You aren’t sure who leans in first, who braved the waters of uncharted territory. Time stills and speeds up as his face grows closer. The scent of sandalwood and bergamot that’s followed you all weekend replaced by the woodsy mint of his cologne you’ve treated yourself to when tucked into his side. Anyone outside can hear two hearts beating erratically, anxious and excited. 
His lips are warm and comforting, just like everything else about him. Pressing delicately against yours, taking his time and letting you set the pace. You’re torn between the shock of how divine he feels and the greedy need for more. Senses overwhelmed by him; you want to taste more, feel more, see more.
When he pulls away, a gentleman not wanting to overstep, you’re breathless.
“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.” His confession is paired with pink cheeks and large hands playing with your fingers. 
You can’t help but to tease him, the banter from your childhood coming back. “Did it live up to expectations?”
“Way, way better.” Your smile is swallowed in his kiss, chins knocking as you trade off enthusiasm. A groan leaving Bob as you grab his hands and walk back to the bathroom. That hot shower still sounds amazing, but you need more of him.
The travertine tiles glow in the soft light as you watch your childhood love remove his suit, taking time to fold the pieces on the counter, letting you indulge in unbuttoning his crisp shirt as you share another sweet kiss. His own hands twisted in the dress barely clinging to your skin. The sounds that escape him as your hands explore his chest are purely sinful, meant only for your ears.
He barely lets you bask in his body, honed from years of Naval training, before he’s stripping the satin from your frame. You beg for another kiss, but he denies you. He can’t be distracted from watching every inch of skin being revealed. From letting his fingers follow the fabric as it pools at your feet. From kissing his way back up your body until your head falls back against the wall, fingers beckoning him to the shower.
“You’re so beautiful.” It’s more breath than words, but ignite the goose flesh along your skin as he adjusts the hot water and shower head to your liking.
Minutes or hours passed as you reacquainted under the steam. Your fingers tangled in wet strands of sandy hair, fingers slipping along any skin you can reach. His own hands tightly hugging your body, holding you close as he appreciates your nude form. Swallowing each other’s moans as his fingers dip between your folds and you run your palm along his shaft.
The universe has ceased to exist by the time Bob kisses you against the shower wall, fingers wrapping under your thighs to hoist you to his level. Loving the way you giggle as your arms wrap around his neck, trusting him wholeheartedly. Eyes trained at where he lines up with you, relishing the way your breath catches in anticipation. He kisses your forehead as a promise to take care of you, a promise you know he’ll keep.
Once he’s seated deep in you, the moment about connecting rather than getting off, he tilts your head up to check in with you. A kiss as his eyes search you for discomfort. The flames of his eyes burning the brightest blue. One final clench around him and he knows he needs to move; if not for his sake, for yours.
It’s the most glorious dream as he fills you completely, hips rocking into yours as sweaty foreheads meet.
When he brings you to orgasm, a steamy moment punctuated by your muffled screams against his shoulder, there’s nothing fake about the affection as he peppers you with praise. Or when he fills you with his own release a moment later, exhaling thank you, thank you, thank you.
A pillow barrier isn’t even discussed as you lay in his arms that night, cheek against bare chest. His arm trails down your arm like it had the night before, a mindless action you now recognize as meaningful to him as to you. Sated and content, as it should be.
You sit up a little to run your nose along his neck, producing a low groan from him. “You need something, sweetheart?”
“I was wondering, after that,” you gesture to the shower, cheeks heating, “does this mean we’re, uh, dating again?”
He smiles at your flush, cupping your face with one of his large hands. Presses the sweetest kiss to your lips.
“You know, we never had a break up. Technically we’ve been dating this whole time.”
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no-144444 · 1 month ago
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misguided mishap- l.norris
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Day 5 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist
summary: One bed… what could go wrong? (SMUT 18+)
pairing: lando norris x fewtrell! fem! reader
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Long days and long flights. That was your life now. Yes, you were excited when Max had asked you to join Quadrant straight out of college as one of their PR/ marketing managers, but that was when you still thought it would be an office job. You liked to travel, in the sense that you liked seeing new cultures, countries and relaxing every now and then. What you didn’t like was the 4 days when you’d somehow been in 3 different time zones, trying to wrangle an overactive puppy in the form of a 21 year old skateboarder. Thus the joys of the job. 
Yet now, you were busy at a party making connections and ‘networking’ (Max’s favourite buzzword), too tired to even notice  Max and Lando’s eyes on you. You smiled and politely laughed at exactly the right moments in your conversation with Mark from some startup you’d never heard of or cared about. They both watched with soft smiles on their faces as you navigated the conversations simply, making everyone feel heard. Max was proud to say the least. 
Ever since you’d left for college, Lando hadn’t seen you. He’d always enjoyed your company as a kid, and he’d even thought he’d had a crush at one point, though Max did shut that down pretty quickly. But seeing you now? You were gorgeous. He couldn’t describe it. It could’ve been your personality, your smile, your eyes, or something fucking cosmic, but Lando was in love, and there was no stopping it. 
“Busy?” Lando smirked, handing you a G&T. You’d just finished up what you’d hoped to be your last business-related conversation of the night. 
You turned to him, startled, then smiled. “Hi Lan,” you gratefully took the drink with a nod. “Thank you.”
“It’s good to see you,” he leaned in closer, trying to not draw attention to the two of you. 
“It’s good to see you too,” you smiled back. “Congrats on your win last weekend!”
He smiled bashfully, proud of what his season had become. “Thanks,” he nodded, slyly wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “What have you been up to?”
“Working for Max,” you chuckled. “In Quadrant, of course, but still, I’m basically just Keegan’s PR manager,” you pointed out Keegan, who was busy trying to explain the theory of a kickflip to Max, who had been struggling with his skateboarding skills for some time. 
“You work in Quadrant?” he gawked. “I had no idea.”
You smiled. “That’s the sign of a good company, the boss has no clue what’s going on.”
He chuckled. “I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you too,” you nodded, noticing that little sparkle in his eyes as he watched you. 
“Why hasn’t Max been bringing you to races?” He questioned, taking a sip from his drink. 
“I’m busy now,” you shrugged. “Keegan is a handful.”
“Why didn’t you come to Ibiza?” 
You chuckled. “You must’ve really missed me if you’re asking this many questions,” someone knocked into you, pushing you even closer to him. He blushed and whether it was because of your words or the closeness of the two of you, he didn’t know. “Ibiza is a party place, I don’t like parties.”
“Why didn’t I see you at home then? I went back a few weeks ago.”
“I was home a few weeks ago. Maybe we just missed each other,” you suggested. 
“Not off galavanting with a boyfriend?” he teased. 
You leaned in ever closer, directly at his ear. “Why? Jealous?”
He smirked, shaking his head. “You are something else.”
“And to answer your question, no, no boyfriend. Too busy trying to wrangle Keegs,” you smiled as you watched Keegan burst out laughing with Max. “How is F1 going?”
“You haven't been watching?” he asked, chuckling. 
“I get too stressed knowing you’re in the car,” you explained. “I almost lost it when you crashed in Austria.” 
“Good to know you still care about little old me,” he grinned. “I promise you I’m safe.”
And something about the way he said it made you believe him. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the air, maybe it was the intoxicating closeness of him, maybe it was just always supposed to be like this, but you didn’t know. All you knew was that Lando was in front of you, with all of his attention on you, and you felt like falling straight into his trap. 
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you reminded him. “We both know you’re not safe in that car.”
He shrugged. “I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can,” you looked up at him through batted eyelashes and smiled. “I think someone’s a fan,” you chuckled, drawing both your attention to the group of girls around his age who were losing their shit over the fact that he was here. 
“Please don’t make me talk to them,” he pleaded and you laughed. One of them slowly started approaching. 
“I don’t think you have a choice,” you smirked and stepped back, waving him a goodbye as his next conversation started. You didn’t notice that he followed you out of the party.
“Trying Irish goodbye?” he smirked, joining you in the elevator. 
“Fuck! You scared me!” you startled. “Do you have to be such a dick?!” 
He laughed, wrapping his arms around you as he apologised. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he mocked, using that stupid baby voice. 
You shoved him off with a playful smirk. “And yes, I’m tired. I just want to get to bed and lie down.”
“Don’t know how well Max will take you not saying goodnight,” he teased. “Might even come check on you.”
“Max can fuck off,” you sighed. “I’m a grown woman, and anyways, he wouldn’t come to the room he probably thinks I’m fucking someone.”
He almost did a double take when you said that, you caught it in the corner of your eye. 
“It’s a long story, but basically Max walked in on me having sex with this guy like 3 whole fucking years ago, and he always brings it up,” you explained. “He likes to hold it over my head.”
“How would he hold that over your head?”
You shrugged. “He thinks I make bad choices, that was one of them in his mind.”
“Was it a bad choice?” he asked, his eyes bearing into the side of your face. Anyone could feel the charged air in that tiny inclosed space. It made the fucking hair on your arms stand up, and gave you goosebumps on your legs. 
You felt your face heat, but answered simply. “No.”
“So then it wasn’t a bad choice,” he told you. “Max shouldn’t have any say in what you do. He’s your brother, not your keeper.”
“I know,” you answered simply, finally looking at him. “Thanks Lan.”
He offered a small smile and let you out of the elevator first. “What room are you?”
“213, you?” “213,” he read out the card the hotel had given him. “Well, that can’t be right.”
“I think it is, I was talking with the hotel staff and they said they’re fully booked up that people from the same companies have been forced to share. Did you come here under Quadrant or Mclaren?”
“Quadrant,” he sighed. You nodded. 
“It’s fine, we’ll survive for one night,” you dismissed the issue with a shrug. 
“One night? I’m here for a week,” he explained. 
“And I’m only here for tonight,” you yawned. “Off to Melbourne in the morning.”
“Break?” 
“Nah, visiting Keegan’s family and doing press stuff,” you explained. You opened the room and let out a sigh of pure rage. “One bed.” 
“I’ll take the floor,” he nodded but you stopped him. 
“We’re adults, we can share a fucking bed Lando,” you chuckled. 
And something about the way that you looked at him made him want to kiss you. The alcohol he’d consumed had definitely loosened his inhibitions and now he was solely focused on you. The way your hair fell, the way you talked to him, the smile on your lips, the way you weren’t shy with him. All of it made him fall deeper and deeper. He didn’t realise he was kissing you until you pulled on his hair, kissing him back. 
“Lan-” you pulled back slightly, but he just started kissing down your neck. “Close the door.”
He kicked it closed and kissed you again, hungry for more. “Jump,” he told you, you obliged and he caught you, carrying you over to the bed. 
“You sure you want this?” you asked as he started pulling off his clothes. 
“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he smirked, pulling at your clothes. “You sure you want this?”
You just kissed him in response. He kissed down your neck, down your torso, and in between your legs. He took his time pulling off your trousers and underwear. Then he settled himself in front of you and smirked. 
“Such a pretty pussy baby,” he said before placing his mouth on your clit, sucking hard. You let out a yelp as he smirked against you, lapping at your folds, insatiable. It  made you delirious, how good it was, how good he felt. The way his tongue smoothed through your folds, sucking on your clit while he let’s out soft groans as if he’s the one getting sucked off right now. He had you squirming under him, holding your thighs in an iron-clad grip as he sped up. He got sloppier, more lewd sounds coming from the both of you as you got closer and closer to your peak. 
“Fuck, you’re dripping baby,” he groaned aginast your pussy, sending vibrations up your entire body. Your stomach clenched and contracted, and you came all over his face with a loud moan. You’d feel bad for the neighbours if you weren’t so horny. 
“Lan!” you groaned out, pulling his head away and back up to your face. He pressed kisses all over your neck, undoing his trouser to finally let his cock out. He was rock hard, he’d never been this turned on. “Fuck me, please fuck me,” you begged, and everything else fell away. He bottomed out with a moan as you bit into his shoulder to stop yourself from screaming, and when you nodded he started moving. 
You felt like heaven, gripping him like that. It made him feel like he couldn’t stop. Totally pussydrunk. “F-fuck baby,” he whimpered as he picked up the pace. 
“I’m-i’m gonna cum-fuck!” you moaned as he started hitting that gummy spot inside you, making you see fucking stars. “Yes-yes! There Lan, don’t fucking s-stop!”
He wasn’t planning on stopping. He picked up the pace even more, until the room was full of those lewd sounds from your wet pussy and his dirty mouth. 
“Y’like getting fucked like this? In hotel rooms just to l-leave the next morning?” he smirked as you squirmed under him. “Oh baby n-no, you’re not runnin’ away,” he grabbed one of your arms, pinning you down to the bed with a smirk. “Y’think they can hear us?”
That made you clamp down on him even harder, moaning even louder.
“You like that naughty girl?” he smirked, punctuating every word with a particularly hard thrust.  
“Y-yes!” you cried out, barely able to listen to what he was saying. It was all too much, too good, too little. 
“Fuck you’re perfect,” He groaned, biting into your neck as he willed himself not to cum. “Such a naughty girl.”
“Yours Lan, a-all yours,” you whined as you felt yourself getting closer. “I-I’m gonna cum!”
“You cum baby,” he huffed. “Give it to me.”
And he pushed you over the edge again. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, making you cum again as the world went blurry and your ears started ringing. Finally, he came inside you, triggering yet another orgasm as you screamed into a pillow. 
You fell asleep instantly, and he took it upon himself to get you cleaned up. He cleaned you up with a wet towel, put one of his hoodies on you, and kissed you goodnight before joining the bed and wrapping his arms around you. 
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You woke up like that, sore but satisfied with Lando beside you.  Then you realised. What had you done?
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ
navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
fic-tober masterlist
taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen
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thatbennybee · 2 months ago
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ChordStriker!AU Q&A
I'm doing a bit of a Q&A about my ChordStriker!AU on insta after sharing this teaser WIP, so I figured I'd present some of the questions here! (Feel free to ask more btw!)
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Rock!Poppy
Q: "Is Poppy's family (Peppy & Viva) still with her since the Bergens didn't attack them?"
A: Peppy is with her, but he is confused/in mental decline like canon King Thrash was. Viva is missing. Poppy was old enough to remember her.
Q: "Will Viva play somewhat of a role in this AU?"
A: Yes, she's had a much bigger impact on Poppy's life, even till this day even though she's been missing for many years now. Poppy has never stopped looking for her.
Q: "Is King Peppy still a liar in your AU?"
A: Nah, he's normal. Sometimes hating him with my entire being is hard, so he gets to be a good dad this time. He's just not all there mentally so Poppy is more like his caretaker now.
Q: "Poppy's relationships don't last long because she gets bored... So how long is Branch going to last?"
A: The Rat Pack (Snack Pack) is wondering the same thing, but Poppy's never used the bf/gf/partner labels before meeting him which is strange... 👀
Q: "Does Poppy still party?"
A: She's a total party animal! Her parties are even more intense than a Pop Troll party since Rock Trolls are pretty extreme. LOL
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Pop!Barb (Barbie)
Q: "What does Barb look like?"
A: For now, this is her design, it might change once I have time to draw her digitally.
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Q: "Does this mean Barb has to go through the events of Trolls 1?"
A: Nope, Barb never befriends Bridget because they have never met. They have found a way to remain undetected in the forest. (Thanks to Branch’s constant nagging about safety)
Q: "How does Barb's gang look? Is there any significant differences in their dynamics?"
A: I haven't had time to finish them all, but here's some of them for now. There's more members of The Lunch Rush, but this is all I have for now!
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Val Thundershock → Valentina Wondershock.
Only Queen Barbie calls her Val. She is very optimistic & loves to sing & dance! She's Barbie’s right-hand troll, BFFL & knows everything about her. They have a very... "close" relationship. ;] She's a popstar who's managed by Demo and loves to help make Pop Village a happier place.
Riff
He's a university student studying to be an engineer. He's very soft spoken, doesn't like to make a fuss and is probably the nicest guy around. He's quite close to Barbie and sees her as an older sister. He's actually on friendly terms with Branch. His favorite treat is lollipops. 🍭
Carol
But you can call her Carrie! Everyone does. She's a bit of a diva, loves to look good & dull things bore her. She will ignore anything that doesn't catch her eye, even trolls. Best to be looking your very best!
Sid Fret
Just call him Sid, no need to be so formal. He is every trolls dream guy and he knows it! He's a great roller derby racer and loves the attention trolls give him. Sure, he's a little self-absorbed, but he's a very loyal friend.
Demo
Not much has changed about Demo. He's perfect as he is <3 He's just a little more excitable & cutesy than before. He cares about Valentina a lot & they are very close friends.
Petra
She is the blueprint, she's the moment, she's everything. A model, actress, singer, you name it, she can do it. She's perfect... Who doesn't want to be her?
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Branch
Q: "How different is Branch in this AU vs canon Branch?"
A: He is the same Branch essentially, just without the development he gains at the end of Trolls 1 & so-on. None of it occurred, so he is still grey, miserable & a recluse. He helped Barb to come up with a plan to keep everyone safe after nagging & warning her for ages, but after that, he returned to his bunker & is still not well-liked by the village.
Q: "Does she know Branch's whole past? If she does, what was her reaction?"
A: Not sure if you meant Barb or Poppy, so I'll answer for both. Barb—no. I don't think she'd ever find out, and she's also not the type to ask. Their personalities clash a bit too much, she stays out of his way like he asks her to.
For Poppy—I think it would come up naturally in conversation after a while when Branch feels more comfortable sharing. Poppy isn't the type to pry, but makes it clear that it's out of understanding, not a lack of caring. She can tell that he is closed off for a reason. She relates to that. I think she'd be beyond pissed once he told her, though.
Q: "Will Branch's brothers be in this?"
A: Yes, but Floyd will be getting the bigger role this time.
Q: "How quickly does Branch fall for Poppy? I'm sure the answer is yes, but is he happy?"
A: I'd say he's quite guarded in the beginning. He is cautious around her for the first few weeks, but he starts to come around once he picks up on Poppy being emotionally guarded herself.
Things move quickly once their walls come down around each other, & a mutual understanding is there. Poppy fell for him first. (At least, that's what Branch lets her believe, as it was love at first sight for him, but he'd never tell her that; she'd get a big head about it.)
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taylormarieee · 2 months ago
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-Birds of a feather ~A Dean Winchester oneshot~
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Summary: you and dean used to be a thing, attached at the hip like birds of a feather, he thinks you guys should stick together and honestly, so do you...
Word count: 2.7k
Pairing: dean winchester x fem!hunter!reader
Warnings: hurt to comfort, slight angst, fluff, illusions to sex but none takes place, sam being a supporter/wingman, kisses, touches, mutual pining, reader playing hard to get(just a lil bit), teasing, that's it! lmk if I missed stuff<33
A/N: Hey... how yall doing... I know i've been absent and i'm sorry, so here's a little fic to bring back the life in my blog!
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You and dean were the "IT" couple. You guys did everything together, you guys were two peas in a pod. He loved and adored you and you respected and loved him.
You guys were made for each other and it showed. Sam used to get disgusted after a while when you two were so smitten about each other, but then came the arguments.
The arguments about the tiniest things. the arguments that led to angry sex. The moaning, and sweat on each others bodies. The feeling of him inside you was always a good way to release the stress, but then after that there would be a good day and then the cycle started again.
Until there was no more sex, just arguments that led to dean leaving at all hours of the night and you finding comfort in his younger brother.
Talking to sam felt like the best thing in the world every time you fought with dean. You hated fighting with him. He was your love, your future husband, the man of your dreams.
He meant the world to you, and you couldn't bear losing him to some shapeshifter or some demon or even just speeding to fast in his car.
That's why it hurt you when sam got the call that his brother was seriously injured in the hospital due to a car crash. He loved his car so it shocked you when you found out.
JANUARY 6TH 2004, LAWRENCE MEMORIAL HOSPITAL, 11:01PM...
You both rushed to the hospital and never left his side. When he finally woke up, you hated to break it to him but you couldn't do it anymore. The arguments, the cold shoulders, him driving off and staying out drinking his life away in all hours of the night.
You kissed him goodbye and left. You lived with Bobby for a little while just until you got on your feet but then you found out a demon was after you for what your father did, something you'll never know.
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He's been dead for a little while. Your father. You've been trying to follow in his tracks for a while now.
But anyway, you have been living with Bobby for a while now and every time Bobby said that Dean and Sam were coming over, you always made sure you were never home.
But one day, Bobby didn't tell you and you heard the rev of that impala and immediately froze. You were in your room finishing up your drawing on this Wendigo you killed last week for Bobby with the help of Rufus.
"Hey bobby, what's up." Sam spoke, the vibration of his voice echoing around the halls.
You grabbed your sketchbook and tried to sneak downstairs and run out the back to where your car was parked but unfortunately, they were in the kitchen where the backdoor was.
You peeked in and of course Dean had to be the first one to notice you.
"C'mon out and stop hiding ya ijit!" bobby calls out drawing now Sams attention. Both of the Winchester brother's had wide eyes as they watched you come out from the corner.
You were wearing a black long sleeved crop-top with baggy jeans that had stars on the pant legs.
"I'm not an ijit bobby, how many times are you gonna call me that!?" you ask bobby while rolling your eyes trying not to acknowledge the brothers, specifically Dean whose eyes cannot leave your body and face.
'When did you get so many piercings.' he thought to himself.
"Well when you stop leaving the house for hours everytime I tell you there coming over, you haven't seen em in months almost a year now, you can't keep hiding." Bobby tells you.
you sigh and look at the both of them and that's when you lock eyes with dean again.
"Hey dean. Hey sam."
"Hey." they say in unison. you give them a tightlipped awkward smile and then put your journal down.
"Wanna see some of the drawings of my most recent kills so far? It's a lot of vampires, demons, wendigo's you know, the whole shebang." you aks with a smile.
They both smile at you like there proud and say sure. you nod and open your journal.
You had some notes and details next to your drawings. They all looked at it in fascination and awe.
"These are amazing! Did you hunt them all on your own?" Sam asks as he flips through the pages.
"N-no, well kinda. I had help every now and then." you say looking at bobby with a smile.
He grew to be your father and you really appreciated him for who he was and what he's done for you.
"These are really great but uh, can I talk to you outside for a minute? Please?" Dean asks looking at you with those puppy dog eyes that you knew you couldn't say no to.
"Yeah Dean, sure... cmon." you say as you walk outside with him near all of bobby's abandoned junky cars.
"What's up dean?" you asks folding your arms across your chest.
"how have you been?" he asks keeping it casual and short.
"I've been doing fine, how about you?" he smiles and steps a bit closer to you. you fight the urge to step back.
"I've been thinking about you. For months. Wonderin' where you've been, how you've been holdin' up but I see you've been doin' just fine." he says with a slight tilt of his head.
"Yea I have de-"
"I ain't finished just yet doll. Why have you been avoiding us? Avoiding me?" he asks sternly.
you roll your eyes, 'here we go'.
The conversation you've been dreading to have. You thought he'd just leave it alone but what the hell were you thinking?
This is Dean, THE Dean Winchester we are talking about here. He's relentless until he gets his way.
"Look Dean, I really don't want to talk about this right now ok? I don't wanna argue with you." you tell him in the most nicest way possible.
"Ok..." he takes a long pause. "Why not?" he asks, making you sigh a very annoyed and long sigh.
"Because Dean, the way we could turn a civil conversation into an argument was honestly stupid and insane, so please for the sake of saving me a headache and meltdown and you getting into another severe car crash, drop it." you explain to him.
His eyes soften almost. Letting the relentless side of him slowly fade away bringing out your dean, the soft mushy bear dean.
"You- you still remember that night?" he asks softly.
"dean I remember it like it was yesterday. All I have are nightmares of you in the hospital, your heart stopped beating for 5 minutes! How could I not think about how the man I loved died right in front of me over a damn argument! I always blame myself!" you shout.
"You shouldn't ha-" he starts.
"I shouldn't what? Have that guilt?! Oh, but I do Dean. Every day I play scenarios in my head. M-Maybe i-if I was more understanding then you wouldn't have left, maybe if I wasn't so mad over the smallest thing, maybe if I just talked it out like a normal human being, then maybe, MAYBE! the love of my life would still be with me right now."
His eyes widen. He's stunned at your confession but you don't even give him time to talk as you walk towards your car, A Cadillac DTS.
You hop in and drive off.
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~NOVEMBER 18TH 2005, BOBBY'S GARAGE, 9:30PM~
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Your car finally pulls up in the driveway and you notice that dean's impala is still here. 'So there staying the night huh?' you thought.
you turn off your car and get out. you open the door with the key you have and walk inside the house.
Bobby's asleep on the couch in front of the new tv you bought him two weeks ago.
You smile and grab the nearest blanket you can find and wrap it around him to shield him from the cold outside.
You lay a soft kiss to his head and whisper him a goodnight. you turn around and notice a figure standing in the kitchen, you jump and pull out your pocket knife but you realize it's just Sam.
"Hey, sam." you greet quietly.
H eturns around clearly pretending to not know about your prescence and smiles.
"Oh hey! I promised Bobby I'd still be awake in case you ever came back." he says as you walk over to stand next to him.
"aw thank's Sammy." you say with a geniune smile to which he reciprocates.
"hey, can I uhm, tell you something that I think you should hear?" he asks shifting his weight.
"yea go ahead." you respond crossing your arms in front of you, a habit you had.
"Dean hasn't been focused or okay ever since you left. He's been kinda broken. Screwing any girl that looked at him the right way or taking his anger out on me and that's nothing I can't handle but, I just hate seeing him like that." Sam expresses.
"Hate seeing him like what?" you ask concerned.
"Like a part of him is missing. Whenever I look at dean, he's staring into nothing, as if he's dead. There are nights where he mutters your name and hugs the motel pillows like they are you. Only to wake up facing the reality that your not there, your not here with him anymore." he explains.
"I just can't keep seeing my brother drink and fuck his life away until he slowly fades into nothing. I watched him die for 5 minutes, I'm not going to watch him suffer anymore. Please, bring the life back into my brother, that is all I ask." Sam asks and then walks away.
"goodnight." he say lastly before dissappearing into the other room.
you stand there, contemplating on what you just heard, clearly not seeing the effect you left not only on dean but on sam as well. It tugs at your heart and suddenly you feel dizzy, almost like you can't breathe.
You step outside for a second and breathe in the cool air. You sit down and cry, you just cry and cry.
~MEANWHILE, INSIDE WITH SAM AND DEAN, 3 HOURS PRIOR~
"Sam come on please. You gotta tell her. I can't keep doing this anymore, you said it yourself Sammy." dean pleads with sam.
Dean had asked Sam to talk to you, to just tell her how he's been feeling and tell her that he needs you, that he can't keep living without you.
After you broke up with him so randomly in the hospital, he just couldn't keep going.
He was constantly overstimulated and constantly angry. The anger in him never died down until he saw you today for the first time in months.
His heart warmed up at the thought of seeing you in that outfit and being so bubbly, it made him miss you all the more.
Like a burning flame that was slowly dying and losing its light and being drained of its passion by the coldness of your heart.
It left him stunned that you could do something to him after such a tramatic experience.
All he wanted was for you to fuel him back to life, bring the happiness back into his life.
All those other chicks he fucked and left in different towns just weren't doing it for him anymore.
Not like you.
You had him hooked. Enfatued by your mere presence. He needed to be careful with you though.
Placing the sofest touch to the weakest petal. Caring for you like a rare feather.
He never wanted you to leave his side, because right now? He was going crazy in the maze in his empty mind.
He may be speaking in poems or riddle form but for you? He couldn't contain or shield his seeping heart that was torn.
And that his why his brother had to confess that to you, what dean didn't predict was for it to go that way.
~BACK TO THE PRESENT- NOVEMBER 18TH 2005, 10:45PM~
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Your just sitting outside now, all forms of crying done. You didn't know how much you hurt dean that night.
You were just doing what was best for you, but I guess that was you being selfish. You only added salt to an already salty wound.
You made him bleed more than he did that night. You made his heart collapse.
He was your everything, and you guess seeing him die that night, you felt the need to distance yourself as much as possible to make sure you didn't lose him again.
And yet, all you did was hurt him even more and make your life and his ten times worse.
Bobby was right, you couldn't keep hiding from him. He was your savior and your becon.
He was always there at your beck and call. You both flew together like two parrots in love.
You stuck by each other like seahorses. You made him whole and he made you complete.
You were each other's puzzle pieces. He was the Clyde to your Bonnie.
You were going to do everything and anything it takes to get him back to you.
You get up, ready to open the door but someones hand is already turning the knob before you and it swings open.
Dean...
"Oh sorry, I didn't know anyone was out here," he announces tiredly.
Your frozen, you forgot how good Dean always looked when he woke up in the middle of the night.
Tousled hair, soft pink lips, and glazed-over eyes shining in the moonlight.
"n-no it's ok, I was actually going to come look for you. I wanted to talk to you. Is that ok?"
"Yea yea, that's fine with me." he says a slight smile on his face.
You both sit down staring at the stars in silence before Dean speaks up.
“so, what’s wrong?” He speaks out into the misty air of the night.
“I’m so fucking sorry. I should have never left you that night. You died and then came back and you were fucking suffering and I just hurt you even more. I know you can probably never forgive me for that and I just wanted to let you know that I am incredibly sorry. I love you Dean, your the love of my life, your my safe place. I wouldn’t even be alive half the time if it wasn’t for you, I am grateful for you, your my future husband and I know I ruined my chance of ever getting to kiss you again but just know it’s ok and I’m sorry.” You speak out in one breath!
Dean blinks as it takes him a second to register what you said because you spoke so fast but he eventually chuckled and pulls you closer to him.
“Oh doll, I love you so much and I forgive you, why wouldn’t I? You’re the only thing that kept me going. My motivation to find my dad, my motivation to move on and protect Sam. I don't know where I would be without you and my brother. I love you for that and I’m grateful to have you here with me right now. No more focusing on the past, time for the future. Cmon, let’s go inside.” He says with a smile on his face
you nod and smile grabbing deans hand so he can pull you up. He walks towards the door to open it and you stop him by grabbing his hand.
“Dean wait!” you exclaim. He turns around with confusion and you grab his face and kiss him. You kiss him roughly and you kiss him with so much passion.
He grabs your waist and kisses you back with the same amount of passion.
you both break the kiss and rest your heads on each other.
“don’t know what that was for but I really liked it.” Dean speaks with a smirk on his face to which you giggle at.
“wanted to seal the deal of our love.” You say with a smile.
“your such a tease you know that? I was pining for you all day.” He says with a smile
“well what can I say? I’m a girl that likes to play hard to get. The moment I laid eyes on you today I wanted to pounce on you.”
“Well baby, you got all night.” He says with a smirk and a wink.
Birds of a feather, we always knew you two would stick together...
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Taglist: @dollyfl1rt @itzdarling + anyone else who wants to join!
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evercelle · 11 months ago
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happy new year!!! 2023 was the year of blue purple and also sometimes red ...... and I think 24 will probably be the same. lol
I feel like I didn't draw as many polished illustrations in 2023, but I did a LOT of rkgk and doujin, so I actually drew about as much or more than 2022. I also really didn't meet most of the goals I set for myself (like learning how to compose images with graphic design elements, instead of just filling empty space with hair and wings lmao)... but my big goal was finishing v3 doujin, and I'm really proud of that, because I've never been able to finish longer form storytelling before :')
i haven't really thought of art resolutions for 24, but that's ok!! Although I'm mostly drawing v3 stuff and it's a much much smaller fandom than gnshn, I'm v grateful for the new friends I've made and the old friends and followers who still support my silly draws, even if our interests diverge... being able to share my interests with someone means a lot to me. So, the only resolution for 2024 is: keep making whatever you like!!
may 2024 be filled with sincerity and enthusiasm for us all!!!
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lokideservesahug · 7 months ago
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The Wrong One...
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Pairing: Sergio 'Checo' Pérez x celebrity!fem!reader, (platonic) Max Verstappen x reader
Warnings: Some swearing. Badly translated Spanish (I'm sorry).
Notes: Anon ilysm. I'm so glad that people want to read stuff for him. I've been meaning to write for him and idk how I haven't yet (says the woman currently in the SP11 shirt...).
Summary: Y/N Y/L/N visits the red bull garage and everyone thinks she's with a Red Bull driver... except they all guess the wrong one.
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Yourusername: What great fun in China and thank you @redbullracing for inviting me!!
Liked by schecoperez, redbullracing and 123,789 others
View all 543 comments
Redbullracing: It was an honour to have you Y/N. It was truly a great weekend because you were in our garage.
↳ Yourusername: ❤💙 I'm sure it was mainly a good weekend because of your 1-2 finish...
↳ Redbullracing: It didn't hurt...
User1: guys, I don't think that's max
↳User2: No, it kinda looks like him
↳User3: Ha. It looks more like Checo than Max lol
↳User2:...
↳User1: Shit... maybe oomf on twitter was right...
User4: Y/N can act, model, draw, be gorgeous etc. What can't she do?
↳User5: Yeah I do love her stick man drawings
↳User4: They show pure talent!
↳User5: Support a good F1 team
↳User6: 💀 what and the one with the 1-2 finish wasn't good enough for you?
User7: Someone said that that dude looks like Segio Perez...👀
↳User8: Yeah but even if it is, it doesn't mean they're dating... Two people are allowed to just hang out platonically
↳User9: Bro look at that photo. He has her hand comfortable around her waist and they look like they're they're in love that they're about to get married
↳User8: It depends on how you view it
↳User7: Omd...
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Yourusername: Loml and apparently my best kept secret.
Te quiero cariño. Gracias por tantos años maravillosos juntos. No puedo esperar por el resto de la eternidad contigo❤ (I love you darling. Thank you for so many wonderful years together. I can't wait for the rest of eternity with you)
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Redbullracing: We love you Y/N
↳Yourusername: Lym admin💙❤
Schecoperez: I love you more mi amor. No puedo esperar para pasar el resto de mis días contigo. (I can not wait to spend the rest of my days with you)
Maxverstappen: Well done on finally coming out you two
↳Yourusername: Tysm Max. Doesn't mean I won't run away with your gf though😏
↳Maxverstappen: 😮
↳Schecoperez: ¿Qué? ¿Querida?
-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-
Tysm for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.
As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome.
Taglist (idk if this is your thing so if not then sorry) :
@nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee
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usagifuyusummer · 3 months ago
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Family Dinner Night!
Congrats Peri(winkle) for finally getting the Godparenting license!!! 🥳🥳🥳 - from your loving parents and godbrother 💖💖💖
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More concept art and as usual my insane ramblings below.
I NEED TO GET THE CREATIVE URGES OUT OF MY HEAD!!! It has been bothering with my motivation to finish my gazillions of homeworks lmao. I have so many ideas I need to let out!!! It's suffocating. I hope this will satisfy my creative urges for a while... Or not I will yap about my FOP AU on a separate post (when I'm able).
I can't stop being sad thinking about this family lol. Timmy 😭😭😭
I am not kidding when I say that my head is just filled with so many things that I want to contribute in the FOP fanworks lol. There's a lot I want to do, but so little time...
For now, I've decided to practice my take on the FOP artstyle. I wanted to do something simple as drawing and coloring practice. That's why the coloring this time is flat with no shadings. I think the show doesn't focus on shaded colors too much (except on scenes where there's a heavy implication of day/night, for shock value, etc.).
Just wanted to draw something cute because I haven't been feeling so swell lately. Nothing too poetic or detailed this time.
Other than that, two of the outfits this time is actually inspired by @suki-na-kumo for Peri and an image I found floating around in Twitter/X (sorry I don't remember who shared it) for Timmy's design. Suki-na-kumo's FOP family redesigns are so cool and adorable! I like that they always include flowy attributes in Peri's outfits lol. It makes him look like a pampered brat (which he kinda is seeing how his family coddles him), an otherworldly prince and also a Twink TM (that is unavoidable lol). I kinda want to draw their other FOP redesigns, but I'll just go with Peri's first.
I am not sure where that 18 year old Timmy design is from, but it kinda can be his design for those who theorise him on becoming a lawyer as an adult. There's a lot of instances where Timmy is wearing a suit in the show, but this design is one of my favs due to the hairstyle change. My adult Timmy designs in the future will be influenced from this piece of official art. I wonder if there are more Timmy designs in the wild wild west out there that I haven't seen... It is certainly an interesting find (Teen AJ is also there, and his design also looks cool to me).
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Cosmo and Wanda's oufits are something that I cooked up. I don't think the coloring looks good... I just did this on a whim, and for about 13 hours. Damn, I am procrastinating on my work lmao.
Still, the context this time is, that they've had a family dinner to celebrate on Peri's achievement on finally obtaining his godparenting license!!! Good for him!!!
This is an AU if Timmy somehow was able to find a loophole in the "losing your memories of your fairy godparents after you become an adult" rule. Because of that, he continued his life as normal (as Timmy's chaotic life can be), but this time he is able to keep in contact with his fairy family even if they're not contractually obligated to stick together. Timmy does live with the Fairywinkle Cosma's around his college to early work years, but he eventually was able to move out and live on his own at where he works as a lawyer after a while in his adulthood. (His birth parents eventually went on a lifetime vacation without him or just went away for too long that Timmy just lives on his own a lot after he is 18 and above...)
Despite living on his own nowadays (In a New Wish context), Timmy does keep in contact with his fairy family and visits them when he's not busy with his job. Cosmo and Wanda still took a long vacation in this AU, first due to, yeah, Timmy is no easy feat as a godchild lol, and second, they actually want to take their time to raise BOTH of their children (even if Timmy is no longer a child/godchild) and guide them until they're stable adults. Timmy during college years actually only stays with the Fairywinkle Cosma's on holidays, so when Timmy's busy with college, that is when Cosmo and Wanda take their time relaxing lmao.
Sometimes when they really want to have some time alone or when Peri wants to see his bro, they will send Peri to Timmy's college for a day or more. Timmy babysits Peri so much during his college years lol. They both had fun though! With a lot of Peri newfound nuclear fairy power shenanigans at Timmy's college lmao. Studying law and taking the bar exam has never been more chaotic with babysitting a nuclear powered fairy child.
There's a lot more on this AU that I've been thinking, but I'll stop here for now. I need to gather my AU ideas in one post sometime later.
Also, Peri and Timmy are both adults here, Peri's around his 20's here and Timmy is on his early 30's I think. Cosmo, Wanda, and Peri are in their human disguises here, because they want to learn more about human culture (A New Wish context) while also having the desire to be more in Timmy's life.
I headcannon Timmy to be kinda short in his adulthood. This is also a nod to that episode when his fairy family used imperfect human disguises, even Poof/Peri was taller than Timmy in his human baby disguise lol. And also hey, wearing braces during his teen years paid off! (his big teeth are visible only when he opens his mouth lol)
As usual, here's some concept art and a png lineart pic if you want to use it to color it better than I did lmao. (that was a long yapping session... thanks for reading)
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portraitofalinkonfyre · 2 months ago
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Burning Love
Chapter 5
Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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The rest of the chain was outside by the time you managed to waddle downstairs, huddled around a cooking pot with Wild at the helm for breakfast.
"(Y/n)!" Wind greeted, waving you over with his bandaged arm, drawing the other's attention. You waved groggily, plopping down next to the youngest hero on a nearby log. "Is Four okay, we haven't seen him yet."
"You say that like we haven't been hearing him," Legend muttered with a scowl. You were too tired to defend Four's honor, so you just waved off the pantless hero with a scowl of your own.
"Well, he's alive."
"Goodie."
"Legend, I swear to Hylia—"
"OKay!" Warriors cut off your impending insult with a loud clap of his hands. "We'll continue this when everyone's had coffee, yeah?"
"Great plan," you shot him a thumbs up while Legend muttered something ineligible in the background. Wild materialized behind you with a cup of steaming goodness, handing it over wordlessly. "You're the man, Wild."
"I'm the man," he parroted, returning your high-five with the speed of a shooting arrow.
"So," Twilight interjected and the seriousness of the conversation instantly increased. "He's cleared for travel?"
"More or less," you sipped your coffee and felt a bit more Hylian than you did a minute ago. "I still haven't figured out what's going on with him," you paused, an idea hitting you harder than Wind's windhammer. "Time, didn't you mention a library being here?"
"The Town Archive," the oldest hero intoned, expression contemplative as he mulled over your idea. "I've visited it once before, but it's certainly old enough to have some information."
"It sounds like the best place to start," Sky joined the conversation with a hum. "We don't know how dangerous his ailment is, or even what it is, for that matter."
"I agree," said Hyrule, turning his curious gaze to Time. "How many books do you think it holds?"
"Hundreds, I'm sure," Time answered, tone curiously wistful, and if you weren't drooling at the thought of all that literature, you sure were when Wild passed you a bowl of egg-fried rice. He looked up with a resigned expression. "Four, how kind of you to join us."
You glanced back quick enough to watch Four half-stumble down the stairs, shuffling over in a distinct rendition of Wind's impression of a 'penguin'. "Good morning to you too, old man," he plopped down beside you and accepted Wild's procured bowl of rice with a grateful hum. "Where's my coffee?"
"You're too young to be drinking that," Legend replied, taking a very loud, very obnoxious sip of his own.
Four cocked his head, puzzled. "I'm am?"
"And I'm the Queen of Lorule."
"...You're not?"
"No."
"That's... unfortunate."
"Sigh."
"Anyways, what were we talking about?"
"You, short stack," said Warriors. "We were about to ask if you wanted to stay behind and recuperate?"
"Why would I?"
Warriors deadpanned. "You're not exactly at one-hundred percent, and someone's got to protect (Y/n)—"
"Um, rude," you crossed your arms over your chest, your spoon sticking out of your mouth like a pipe. "Bold of you to assume I'm not coming with."
Silence.
"Jeez, tough crowd..."
"You're tough," you retorted before realizing that wasn't the insult you'd been hoping for. "Anyways, the library might be our only shot at helping you, Four," you said, bumping shoulders and ignoring the withering gaze Twilight sent the shorter hero. "And! Books!"
"Can't miss out on that," the blacksmith responded with a grin.
"It seems we've come to an agreement," Time observed. "We leave in ten," he paused at Wind's puppy dog eyes, sighed, and somehow managed to look five years older. "...or when Wind has finished his breakfast."
Everyone cheered as Wind brought his spoon to his mouth in slow motion.
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The town archive was unlike anything you'd seen before. Tall and imposing, its shadows towered way over your approaching group. Four's side was warm against your bare arm as you led him forward, not for lack of trust, but after seeing him wobble down the inn stairs, you were taking no chances.
"Woah," Four breathed. "It's bigger than my old forge."
"Yeah?"
"Definitely."
"Are you sure? You're not pulling my leg?"
"I think you'd know if I was pulling your leg."
"I hate you both," muttered Legend, and you didn't need to see his face to feel his undoubtedly dark glare burning holes into your back.
"Aw, let them be," Wind came to your rescue. He looked at you and winked. "He's just upset because he had to listen to some couple flirt last night."
"Wind."
"Sorry, we," he amended sassily. "had to listen to some couple flirt last night."
"...Was it good?" You asked with mounting terror.
"Not at all, but we're not allowed to talk about that."
"For good reason," Legend hissed. "It was the worst thing I've had the displeasure of hearing, and I've listened to Wind snoring."
"Hey!"
"We're here," Time announced, and you'd never been more grateful for a subject change.
The heavy wooden doors creaked open, the rusty metal plaque on the right one glinting softly in the sunlight. Squinting with all your might, you managed to make the scrawled lettering out to be "Town Archive", which was about as accurate as you could get here.
The group shuffled in, and you were instantaneously impressed at the impossibly large bookshelves lining every veritable wall, closing in on the lectern in the center in ordered rows. "Wow," you said in awe, deftly release of Four to peruse the massive directory on said lecture. Your hands glided the leather cover of the colossal book, only pausing to sneeze when you opened it and a cloud of dust shot forth. Most of the boys had begun to scatter, chatting individually about what they hoped to find—though you were sorely tempted to scream that libraries didn't have Lizalfo talons when you heard Wild make that particular quip—but Twilight, Time, and Four remained silently by the entrance.
"How many trees you reckon it takes to make a book that big?" Twilight asked in a hushed tone.
"More than one," was Four's response. "A big one... or four small ones."
Your eye twitched at the nonsensical exchange, but you forced yourself to refocus on the directory.
"...Why are you like this?" Time sounded as exasperated as you felt.
Your pointer finger traced down the 'D' list, eyes scanning over every title with fading interest. You had already searched over ten pages, and not a single thing had stood out among the dizzying selection. It was beginning to seem that you would never find an answer to the conundrum, which was as painful as it was maddening. As a medic, it was your sworn duty to help the sick, even more when the sick person in question was your dear friend, and you were determined to not add to your list of regrets.
Until you flipped to a random page, seconds from burying your head in your hands, and something finally caught your eye.
"I found it!"
"Found what?" Four appeared at your side almost instantaneously, flanked by Time and Twilight.
You tapped the scrawled title with a blossoming grin. "'The Complete Guide To Hyrule's Races'!"
"That sounds promising," Time's expression was curious. "Do you think you can find it?"
"I can try," you shut the book, the pages thudding together with a thud of finality. "The directory said it should be on the second shelf in one of the back rows, so I'll start there."
The heroes bade you good luck as you headed off in search of your prize. Twilight grunted softly as soon as your cape fluttered from view. "Ya know yer only diggin' yourself into a bigger hole, right?"
"Huh?" Four's face was the picture of confusion, but Twilight knew it was all a ruse.
"Don't play dumb," he chided. "Ya haven't given it any thought?"
Four's gaze flicked between the two heroes, and Time, who looked as though he had seen enough, motioned them to one of the quieter corners of the library. "Now," the older hero's gaze felt like a piercing beam. "What's this all about?"
Twilight snorted, tossing his head in Four's direction. "Wouldn't be about nothin' if he would man up already."
Time stared at the smaller hero, clearly demanding an answer with the sheer force of his mind alone. Too bad that Four didn't feel like passing out details of his (nonexistent) sex life like they were candy.
"It's no one's business, old man," he crossed his arms over his chest, expression a nigh-perfect recreation of Legend's resting-bitch face. "And that's final."
"It's only goin' to get worse," Twilight ran a hand down his face, eyes turned to the ceiling in a plea for divine intervention. "An' it's that medic's business, too."
"What about (Y/n)?" Time's gaze hardened protectively; the old man cared for you and it showed clearer than day on his scarred face. "Four."
"Don't," the smithy fixed him with an unusually harsh glare. Time's working eye narrowed; something was amiss and he was determined to find it. "You're not part of this, none of you are."
"So ya admit it's a problem?" Twilight interjected.
"No!" Four snapped. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I need more time, you can't expect me to..."
"We aren't expecting you to do anything," Time said slowly, looking equal parts ready to throttle someone and offer one of them a hug, just as Twilight muttered under his breath: "'cept what's right for ya and that medic."
Four bristled. "It's not like that."
"It could be."
"I can't— you have no idea about any of this," the smithy's face was growing redder and redder, irises flashing blue, as he growled. "S-So stay out of it!"
"Oh, we have some idea," Twilight shot back. "Don't tell me ya've forgotten our conversation?"
Four's expression twisted in discomfort, but it was quickly replaced by annoyance. "How could I forget?" he snarked. "You know they're not—"
A memory of last night flashed in his mind's eye, but Four dismissed it; there was no way you saw him... like that, he wanted to scream. You were just too nice for your own good. He tried not to think of the way your gaze roved his body when he undressed, chalking it up to misplaced curiosity. How could you want him when there were so many other options, as much as it pained him to think it?
"—it's fine, I'm going outside."
Twilight opened his mouth to fire back, only pausing when Time laid a hand on the rancher's shoulder, shaking his head with a somewhat defeated expression. Twilight huffed, but held his tongue.
Until cheery footsteps broke through the silence and your head peeked around a nearby bookshelf. You grinning vibrantly when you caught sight of them, and it was the most beautiful thing Four had seen in his life. "There you are, I can't believe you all disappeared on me like that!"
"Sorry," Four said rather sheepishly. His gaze snapped to the crumpled sheet of paper in your right hand. "What's that?"
You shrugged, holding it out for him to examine. Twilight shifted closer, subtly sniffing with a look of barely disguised interest. "I thought notes from a scholar would be more useful than a textbook, is all."
"It was a textbook?" Time questioned, and you made a face.
"Unfortunately," you grimaced harder. "I've seen enough of those things to last a few lifetimes."
"We can tell," Twilight observed, tipping his head to the barely legible symbols covering the page. Four wrinkled his nose, slightly miffed at the unfamiliar language. "Can ya read it?"
"A bit," you answered. "It's written in ancient Hylian."
"Ancient, huh?" Twilight leveled a knowing look in Four's direction. The shorter hero growled and shoved at his chest, and the rancher surrendered with a guffaw. "Ah'right, ah'right!"
"Do I even want to know?" you deadpanned.
Crash!
"Fuck!" came Wild's distinct screech, and you nearly tripped over yourself rushing to the source of the noise. Four moved to follow, but halted when Time's hand sealed around his wrist.
"Four."
"Let me go."
"What is it, exactly, that you are afraid of?"
Four's eyes narrowed. "I'm not afraid."
"Ya are," Twilight joined the fray with a jaded frown.
Four tried yanking his arm away, but Time's grip held true. "What do you know? It's not like you—"
"Wrong," the rancher interrupted tersely. "'M trying to help ya because I am the only one."
Four froze. Surely he couldn't be implying...
"Don't give me that look," Twilight drew closer, towering over the smithy with a distinct wildness in his usually calm eyes. "Ya never thought ta' question why I leave fer a week every six months, or why I don't go off alone with yer little medic?"
"Y-You don't like (Y/n)?" Four was at a complete loss for words as the realization hit him harder than one of Wild's bombs. "How—"
"This ain't about me," Twilight's tone took on a distinct snarl that had Four wondering how he hadn't connected the dots in the first place. "It's about you and yer problem with makin' things easy on yerself. Ya think distance will make everythin' fine an' dandy? I can promise ya, it won't."
"But—"
"You can only deny yer nature for so long," there was a distinct sliver of regret in the older hero's tone that made Four wonder what exactly the rancher had experienced to look that way. "An' once it's gone, you're never going to get it back."
"Guys!"
All heads turned to you, and Four felt the inexplicable urge to gather you in his arms and never let go. Until he noticed your panicked expression and lack of paper. "Come on," you urged hurriedly. "We've got to get the hell out of here."
"What happened?" asked Time, beating Four by a millisecond.
Your expression turned grave. "Lizalfos,"
"In the library?!"
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Sigh. He'll get it eventually. ALSO Twi, you dog!
Just as a disclaimer, I've never played OOT so I have no idea if the term 'town archive' even exists in their world, but I'm going to pretend it does for the sake of the smut.
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heatherfranzen · 2 months ago
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HELLO
I'M BACK
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So much has happened this summer (I finished grad school! I moved halfway across the country!) and I'm trying to get back into a routine that involves having a life again: reading books, watching movies, playing video games, and, of course, drawing and painting again.
I am currently revamping my website. For many years, my website was solely a professional portfolio and shop. White background, simple links, zero personality. Purely a hub to point to my social medias, where all the fun stuff was. I hated going to my own website because it was boring and uninspiring.
Last year, I made a neocities account and learned HTML/CSS for fun. I became obsessed after realizing how much more exciting it is to NOT have a bland, minimalist, corporate-esque website. I love exploring everyone's fun neocities sites, which are nostalgic and truly personalized. It made me hate my old website even more. Then I had a big brain moment: incorporate the fun elements of my neocities site into my website. LOOK AT IT NOW. There is COLOR. Silly fonts. There is a pixelated space background. Tiny gifs sprinkled about!
I will be actually be maintaining my website's blog. That's where the main, long-form content of all my art-making will live. Social media will just get snippets of that content. I do think there is a way to connect Tumblr to my blog so that whatever I post there will be posted here, too, but I haven't tried it yet.
Anyway, Hello Hello Hello Tumblr!
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jeleynai · 4 months ago
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Hey there, I adore your art, thank you for sharing it and joining us on tumblr. Your Ghoap art makes me feel so soft.
I am curious about your rendering process. I like how your pieces are textured and coloured and the 3 dimensionality of it, is there a chance you'd be open to sharing some of the steps you take to get from sketch to the finished product? For example what methods (if greyscale, selection tool, etc.) and brushes you use? How you pick your colours?
No pressure in answering this of course, I am just glad to see what you'll be up to in the future.
Hellooooo thank you so much for your kind words!! I've actually been getting so many nice notes from people, I'm so sorry that I haven't responded to them much, I promise I read every single one and shed a little tear of joy at how nice you all are!
Now to the question!!
I made a little step by step image of one of the portraits I posted here for you with a bit of commentary underneath! I'm sorry if it's the ramblings of a mad-woman I'm a bit all over the place sometimes haha (I'm so sorry if there's typos, please ignore them)
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I'll also answer the direct questions here since I don't think I addressed them TOO directly in the image.
Methods: I work with soft brushes and the lasso tool for 90% of my process! I introduce textures as well obviously but I try to let my soft brushes do most of the work. A lot of that 'soft' look people tell me my art has just comes from subtle colour shifts and general softness achieved that way over working with harsher textures. I generally like to limit my layers somewhat, especially with simple pieces like the one above. That image is actually just a single layer after step 2! It helps me not get too stuck on one area but I also just... draw on the wrong layer very frequently even if I name them so I don't use them unless I'm working on pieces with different layers of depth (fore-/mid-/background etc.) I do check my values *constantly* (I use the colour-proof setup in photoshop) but I don't work directly from greyscale. I go straight into colours from the sketch.
How I pick colours: I do try to keep my colour palette cohesive and a bit more neutral to start with. I try to avoid extremes at the start so I'm not locked into that too early since it makes that 'subtlety' harder to achieve otherwise. For those colour shifts I talk about I just pick whatever base colour I put down and then shift the colours accordingly! Brush modes/layer modes can also help but I definitely recommend looking a bit into colour theory before relying on them TOO much! Otherwise using them will also end in strange results. There's no direct 'formula' I use when choosing colours since every light scenario is unique and will affect colours differently. I would definitely recommend James Gurney's book on Colour and Light!
Last but not least! If you're more of a visual learner and my rambling is a bit much in written form (I'm so sorry, I'm very chatty I know) I also have a few painting processes up on YouTube c: So if you want me to shut up and just watch me struggle instead then here's a link to the painting that started it all, the OG ghost soap piece I did over a year and a half ago: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D76X0MT4W5U
I hope that all makes sense!! I'm still super new to Tumblr but I'm always happy to ramble on about art so! Thanks for reading my rant haha
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sunlitpearl · 5 months ago
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You… are waiting for the train.
It's not a weird occurrence— You have to get to work somehow, after all. (Do you work? Well, of course you do. Why would you be here otherwise?)
The subway is packed at this hour. As the world wakes up and gets ready for the day, many a person needs to be somewhere else; their job, their school, their parent's house. They come into the subway in droves, pushing and pulling each way like a pack of sheep. To the side of the cacophony this comes with, muffled conversations and the of locomotives becoming ambient sounds, you sit on a bench towards the wall.
A kid approaches you. It catches your eye, because even in the mass of rushing people, he manages to make a bee-line for you. He has black hair, tousled messily one way or another on his head, and very big eyes. The light of the subway hits them in a way that you can't help but compare them to a galaxy. You've never been the poetic sort, but his eyes are as dark as void, and that's exactly why they reflect every thing he sets his eyes on with accurate detail. As if they're trying to soak in all aspects of life, so that he may use them later.
He looks like you, a little, though that's dumb because you don't have black hair or eyes, and you weren't that small when you were his age. (Or were you? You feel like you should look at yourself again.)
"You're the one that made this, right?" He says, turning his phone around to show you an image of what is unmistakably your art style. (But you blink, and it's not a drawing anymore— it's a piece of writing, the one you posted the other day on your personal blog. The one with three notes.)
Regardless, what he's showing you is yours. "Yeah."
"I really liked it." He smiles, and for a moment you are alone with him in a sea of people and all that matters is that this child you don't know is happy. "I didn't know other people liked this book. It's my favourite."
Oh, the book. The one your art-writing was about. "It's my favourite too."
Is it? It's a novel you read a few years ago, one that changed your life and impacted more than half of your daily thoughts. Even now, it sticks with you. But… No, no, you haven't even finished it yet. It's a novel you picked up because a friend recommended it to you- you're still trying to see where it goes, but you think you like it so far.
No, but, still. That doesn't sound right. What was the name of it, again?
"Really?" His eyes are sparkling in a way they weren't when he first approached you and you're, again, surprised by how dark they are. You smile.
A new train arrives. It's noisy.
He leans in a little closer so that you can hear him. "Oh, um. That's all I wanted to say. Just, thank you."
The kid turns his head around, searching the crowd until he finds what he needs. "I should… get going, I think. That one over there is mine."
And just like that, you wave him off as his small body disappears amongst the many passengers of the 8:10 train. As the doors close, you think you see him wave back.
Leaning your back against the wall, you let the murmurs of conversations that don't quite reach your ears lull your brain into quietness.
…Do you have a picture of yourself, in your blog?
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violetsquare111 · 7 days ago
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IT IS DONE!! lil comic page for saisk @alan-in-the-outernet 's figment noogai ava au! you should check out their blog NOW they've got so many cool aus including this one that live in my brain forever. this was a LOT of fun to make and i hope i can share the figment brainrot with more people yayyyy
(today i offer you content exclusively for myself and 4 other people. tomorrow? content exclusively for myself and 4 other people)
summary of the au under the cut because this probably won't make sense if you aren't familiar
so the idea of the au is that victim finds alan's destroyed computer after ava3 and assumes he's dead. they can't deal with the end goal of their life, the target of all their hatred, suddenly being gone, and so being dreaming about and eventually hallucinating an imagined version of him ("noogai"/"figment")
over time (quite a long time) figment shifts away from the 'noogai' role and into more of, like, "constant imaginary frenemy" mixed with "your subconscious that says everything you'd rather hide from yourself, including the fact that you do want to be better than this"
so IDEALLY vic can move on, grow, and let figment go. but what if they get desperate and lonely and attached enough to make figment real with rocket tech? well let's say figment is NOT having a fun time experiencing Everything At Once Suddenly and victim is quite disappointed in this outcome
that's the gist of what leads up to the comic! figment just... having to exist now, despite the very foundation of its "self" being the fact it isn't real... remembering things from its perspective in the past but knowing those memories never actually happened because it didn't exist... figuring out who to even be as a person, now that it is a person at all, and victim refusing to let it do that because it has been the only constant presence in vic's life for years and is now trying to change... these guys make me so mentally illllll
(not pictured in comic: vic losing their SHIT at figment's comparison)
again CHECK OUT SAISK'S BLOG THEY WRITE/DRAW A LOT OF COOL THINGS (including all the stuff i just summarized, created with some input of askers over there! i just drew the funny arts!!)
yeah this was really a blast to work on (even if also a pain sometimes) over the last 1-2 weeks and i got to practice a lot of things i haven't done in a long time. very happy i was able to finish this :D
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