#and the last one imma pretend is fine and all or i will go insane

[kingleedo]

ONEUS 'Same Scent' Traditional Ver || Leedo

[spiltscribbles]

Hi love!! I just took a look at the prompt lists u have linked and the prompt “you said what to your teacher?” sounds like it could be absolutely hilarious if u wanna write something for that!! <33333

Notes: OMFG HIYA DAN BABEYYYY!!!! Thank you SO SO much you absolute angel face!!! This was the first thing I tried writing and actually enjoyed and just wrote it all at once in the middle of the night dlkfsajlkgjasdofiewghklsdgj THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU!!!!

.-

You Said What To Your Teacher? | Send Me A Prompt💜

.-

“Do you remember when we were nine and I gave you my last sparkler because Regulus was crying that he wanted your purple smoke bomb and I was left with only my shitty poppers to throw when the ball dropped on New Year’s.”

Sub half way to his mouth and mobile lodged between his shoulder and ear, Sirius gently sets down his sandwich and dabs off the splatter of mayonnaise on his cupids bow as he tries to parse out what in bloody hell his best friend is blabbering on about.

“Oh, hi, Jem. Yeah I’m doing well, mate, thanks for asking. Works the typical grind but I think Minnie is about to give me that promotion any day now.”

“It’s a simple yes, or no answer, arse.” James retorts haughtily, sounding somehow frenzied and buoyant all at once.

“Pardon me, I thought we would just have a normal conversation like typical blokes,” Sirius sniffs, tilting back on his chair and clicking around on his desktop to look at the revised dimensions of a new building his firm was employed to begin constructing in south London. “Now remind me, my sweet. Was this the same New Year’s that you stuffed that stink bomb in the back of my shirt after stomping on it so it’d explode on me?”

“That is neither here, nor there.”

“I still feel the debris on my poor back on especially rough days.”

“You’re a twat.”

“And you’re acting dodgy.”

“I need a favor, and I thought a transactional proposition would be the sort of thing that you corporate types would appreciate.” James jabs, laughter in his words. Sirius just hopes he could picture the middle finger he’s emulating through the line.

“Just because you’ve completed residency doesn’t make you a special snowflake, you do realize this, correct?” Sirius tells him, already shooting a message to Minerva and his team that he’ll be jetting off a bit earlier so he could do whatever it is that James needs.

“Slander! It makes me the most special snowflake, Black. And it eats you up inside.” James retorts, moving away from the receiver to yell something towards one of his interns about a patient or the other.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, gorgeous. Now are you going to ever tell me what it is you need from me, or keep trying to get in my trousers, because listen either option is aces on my end. I’ll just add it to the document I send Lily every week about how I’m so obviously your dream partner.”

“It always just comes back to your burning jealousy that I chose her over you, doesn’t it?” James pretends to sigh forlornly. “Listen, my love. It’s not my fault that some birds are just born prettier than others.”

“Psha, I’m the prettiest fucker you know, Potter.”

“It’s the attitude for me, just absolutely no decorum about you.”

“Is this about that snag with me teaching Haz how to properly curse at a United fan?” Sirius asks, moving to collect his satchel and jacket. “Because I stand by that. We’re a fucking Arsenal family, damn it.”

“We were at brunch when he called that poor woman a weasel faced toad, Sirius.”

“Good man,” Sirius insists, waving goodbye to the secretary who always gives him the most devoted heart eyes.

“Well, speaking of the sprog. I’m stuck here with a new bout of paperwork to get someone transported to us from a hospital in the states, and Lily’s stuck in the maternity ward till at least nine.”

“Ooo, a bit of God father/God son time then??”

“With great power, comes great responsibility,” James says gravely.

“What have I told you about your shitty nerd references and how they give me a rash.”

“Spider-man isn’t simply for nerds you absolute pleb! There’s been three bloody franchisements for him in the past two decades!”

“Imma let Harry eat ice cream for dessert, I reckon.”

“Then you’ll have Lily to answer to,” James warns, still seething from the jibe. “And if you’re taking the bike, can you at least park a block away. This new school we’ve enrolled him into this year is well and proper, and I’d not want them to think that our son’s God father is some sort of ne’er-do-well.”

“You put respect on Rosco’s name, or so help me!”

“Right, right, the only constant love in your life.”

“She’s the only one who understands me.”

“ Whatever, just try and behave decently, will you?”

“Hah, and why wouldn’t I?” Sirius asks as he tosses his helmet into the air, patting Rosco in apology for James’s impertinence.

“Hmm, we’ll see, won’t we.” James says in an irritatingly ominous tone before clicking off the line.

.-

There are a lot of reasons why Sirius could hate James. He could hate him for forcing Sirius to join him on his morning runs, or hate him for his intensely perky attitude about every sodding thing. Hell he could probably hate him for his complete disregard of the mad sport that is American football. But all that withstanding, Sirius reasons that for today he’ll hate him for his cryptic fucking warning and how he knew this would happen and is probably cackling over it as he fills out a new set of discharge papers.

That absolute, unceasing, weasel faced, toad.

The ‘this’ that Sirius is referring to of course is the fact that Sirius is left dumbstruck and gawping as he strolls leisurely into Harry’s third year class, eyes roaming over the small cluster of children who had stayed after hours for extra tutoring and who are now just lounging around, waiting for a guardian to come and pick them up. But instead of first spotting the dark head that belongs to his God son, Sirius’s gaze focusses on a man… A very fit, very golden, very beautiful man. A man that’s all lithe limbs and honey eyes, and a small, quietly encouraging smile as he kneels down to chat with a blonde girl who’s got on a blue tutu and rainbow poncho.

“Fuck you James Potter,” Sirius hisses lowly to himself as he tries to collect his wits about him, and remind himself that flirting with his God son’s actual, fucking professor is not a thing that is approved of.

“Uncle Pads!”

Sirius starts, feeling suddenly grounded as Harry bounds towards him and hugs his torso with a tight squeeze. “Hiya Prongslet,” he says, grinning indulgently as he ruffles a hand through Harry’s wild mop of curls.

“Am I coming to yours then?”

“If you’ll have me,” Sirius winks, tapping the bridge of his specs fondly.

“Brilliant! I’ll just tell Professor Lupin.”

Oh, that’s a very sexy name if Sirius does say so himself, though he tries not to marinate on the fact as he waits patiently while Harry leads that absolutely delicious looking man towards him. And God, the way he’s tipping back his head only slightly to meet Sirius’s gaze— It’s lewd.

“You’re Harry’s God father, yes?” Is the first thing Professor Lupin says to him, stretching out a hand that’s all long fingers stained by ink, and knobby knuckles that Sirius suddenly has the insane craving to nip at.

Jesus, he needs to get himself the fuck together.

“Ahem, yes, yes. I’m that. I’m Sirius I mean— Oh, my name, and erm— I’m also serious that I am his God father, that is a thing.” Sirius rambles, feeling like a complete idiot as he takes hold of Remus’s slender hand into his own, and shakes it with two, awkward pumps— holding onto it for a beat too long.

Sirius repeats, fuck James Potter.

“Right,” Professor Lupin says with something akin to amused. “Well he’s only got his maths to finish tonight, and a bit more reading for history.”

“Oh, good. I’ll definitely help with that. I’m great with numbers.”

“Wonderful,” Professor Lupin nods at him before peering down at Harry and grinning widely. “You did great today, just keep up with your novel for Professor Meadows and you’re splendid. Yeah?”

“Thank you Professor Lupin,” Harry preens, chest puffed out not unlike how James had used to do back in their school days every time they won a footie match.

“Nice meeting you Mr— ah?”

“Black!” Sirius quickly offers, straightening up immediately like a rose bud stretching towards the sun. “Sirius Black.”

The corner of Professor Lupin’s mouth twitches up, and Sirius is struck with the searing need to see the full force of his smile directed towards him— and also to snog it right off. “Remus Lupin, just to make things even.”

And fuck.

Sirius swears— hand on his chest and face to God— that it was a flirtatious inflection that Professor Lupin— Remus— used right then, but before he can even have the chance to toy around with the development, a mother in yoga pants and Starbucks strolls in and Remus walks over to greet her hello, and before Sirius knows it, Harry’s tugging on his hand and dragging him out the room.

Damn it.

.-

Despite his total and complete fail of a first meeting with Harry’s sickeningly attractive professor, the rest of the night turns out to go as perfectly as planned. Otherwise known as them stuffing themselves with greasy pizza, and heaps of ice cream, and staying up an hour past Harry’s typical bed time to play Far Cry instead. And if Sirius contemplates asking him more about this elusive Remus Lupin, he bites down the urge and concentrates on sticking his spoon onto his nose before Harry could beat him in their match.

It’s totally fine.

That is until it’s six o’clock in the ruddy morning and he’s woken up by the loud knocking of his front door, only to be met by the grossly chipper faces of Lily and James— that sort of glow is only a thing that happens after a good shag, and Sirius knows that for fact.

“We brought pasties,” Lily tells him as she sashays indoors, red main of hair billowing in the late autumnal breeze and her voice ringing out like she’s some sort of radio show host.

“How was last night?” James asks him as he toes off his boots and follows Lily to the kitchen.

“Fine,” Sirius gripes, still pissy from James’s cruel joke. “Haz is always great.”

“Mmm, I hope Remus didn’t give you any trouble picking him up, you’re on the paperwork and everything but it’s the first time he ever met you and all.” Lily says, faux lightly as she picks out the plates and turns on the electric kettle.

“You knew!” Sirius accuses emphatically, pointing a heated finger her way and then directing it towards James.

“Knew that he is exactly your type?”

“And that you’d look like a tosser talking to him for the first time,” Lily tacks on, giggling.

“Fuck you, and fuck your weird, married telepathy!”

“Nah, not telepathy mate,” James assures, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re just incredibly predictable.”

“We’d have to be thick not to know that you’d be a total idiot around him— You’re the worst whenever you have to talk to pretty people who you actually want to do more than just screw.”

Sirius feels himself go scarlet. “That is an attack on my person, Evans!”

“Yes, dear. I know.” Lily croons, patting him on the cheek like a doting grandmother. “But does it help that I think you should totally go for it.”

“Lily! He’s our son’s teacher!”

“Only for this year,” Lily shrugs, sitting on a stool that lines the island. “Besides, I really like Remus. We have the same cycling class and he taught me how to make my face into an emoji like I’m a Kardashian.”

“You guys talk about’m like he’s the second coming of Christ,” James harrumphs, doling out their mugs with a scowl.

“He’s just so pretty,” Sirius sighs, beyond dejected. “Did you see that little birthmark on his cheek that looks like a butterfly! And Jesus, his eyes are like a third of his face!”

“Don’t forget how well he fills out those trousers for such a skinny bloke,” Lily adds, mixing the honey into the tea that James had just poured her.

“I alas did not get a chance to give his ass the appraisal it warrants,” Sirius bemoans.

“I very much do not like the idea that my best friend and wife are thirsting over the same bloke.” James sniffs.

“Jealous, lover,” Lily leers, laughing at how James wrinkles his nose at them and kisses his cheek in reassurance. But Sirius doesn’t pay them any of his attention, is too distracted by painting the picture of Remus in his mind’s eye, and how he really does need a second look if he loves himself at all.

“He’s like those caramel lollypops from when we were kids,” he tells them unceremoniously. “But instead of that tart middle, he’s just sweetness through the center.”

“You want to lick him, huh?” Lily asks, smirking at him with a lecherous air.

“I want to lick him until he goes mad and begs me to just flip’m over and—“

“Enough!” James quickly cuts in with a smack of the hand against the countertop. “This man is Harry’s professor, I can’t have these sort of images of him while I go to pick him up after class.”

Sirius jerks forwards, beyond excited. “Then let me pick up Haz from school today, yeah? It’ll give me a chance to speak with Remus!”

“Why do you want to talk to Mr Lupin?”

The three adults turn around at once, met by the image of Harry in the spare uniform he keeps at Sirius’s house— hair sleep rumpled and specs askew.

“Hallo my beautiful boy,” Lily grins, her and James each kissing his cheek and giving his shoulders a squeeze as he sits between them.

“Why do you want to talk to Professor Lupin, Uncle Sirius.” Harry asks again, earnestly as he tares apart his cheese and veggie pasty. “Do you like him?”

“Oh, erm—“ Sirius feels his insides squirm, not sure where to step, afraid that his God son might not appreciate the fact that Sirius’s already planning out a reception party for his impending nuptials with Remus.

“I think it’d be cool if you did.”

And in an instant, Sirius feels his shoulders loosen and his smile go elastic. God he loves this kid. “yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Harry nods, taking a sip of his water to clear his throat. “Ron told me that Professor Lupin use to be married to his Uncle Fabs and then they broke up last year, so I bet he’s sad now. And you’re the best person on the planet and you always have fun! You should make him happy again.”

Sirius’s heart seizes, suddenly needing to be the person to help Remus with anything he could ever need.

“You’re a diamond kiddo, you know that?” Sirius says, standing up to lift his eight year old God son into the air and blowing a raspberry to his cheek. “Shove it to your dad, you’ll be my best man at the wedding, yeah?”

“Imma need to start smoking if he’s gonna be this much of a prat all the time now,” James mutters lowly, making it so Lily crows with laughter.

.-

That afternoon finds Sirius parked back outside Harry’s school, straightening the collar of his jacket and combing a hand through his hair. Though once he steps into the nearly emptied classroom, he’s still slack jawed when Remus looks over his shoulder towards the door and grins at him in such a glimmering sort of way, that it punches Sirius in the fucking solar plexus!

“Mr Black, twice in one week?”

“Hah— Yeah.” Sirius hopes his smile comes out more gentle than a grimace. “It’s not far from my work, actually. So I guess I’ll be around more often.” In fact, the drive is a good twenty minutes from his office, but Sirius doesn’t think that’s really relevant.

“Lucky us.” Remus retorts, looking up and down his frame with a slow, languid sort of gaze that makes Sirius feel filleted right open. “Well I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

“You can know whatever you want,” Sirius practically sputters, wonders if he should try and act cool, especially now that Harry’s wandered over towards them.

“Is that an open offer?” Remus asks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and lying back leisurely against his desk.

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”

Remus’s beautiful face goes absolutely incandescent right then. “Good.”

“Good,” Sirius repeats, completely devout.

“Oh, before you go,” Remus says, pointer finger raised to freeze them while his other hand fishes into a drawer of his desk. “It’s not a caramel pop, but at least the Tutsi ones are sweet all the way through.”

Sirius feels his jaw completely drop while Remus gently places the stick of the treat into his open hand, tossing him a quick wink before walking off to chat with a new parent who had wandered in.

“Harry— You said what to your teacher.”

“That you said he looked like a caramel pop,” Harry answers, totally owlish and unconcerned.

Sirius contemplates drowning into the lake, but then decides that this is a game he will not lose against Remus.

“All right, Prongslet. Let’s grab us some chocolate eggs and you can tell me everything you know about your dear Professor.”

“Okay, Uncle Pads,” Harry beams.

.-

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist💜

[fluffymcu]

Almost got away with it (Scott Lang x reader)

I’ve had this idea for months now and I’m not sure if ive written it or asked anyone else to write it, sorry if I did, but I can’t remember. I have a bit of memory problems but I’m just gonna go ahead and write it since there’s not enough Scott Lang fics. :)

Summary: reader tickles her sister Cassie and when their father, Scott returns home, Cassie tells on her sister and demands that he gives her a taste of her own medicine.

“Stop stop y/n stohohop!” Your little sister Cassie squealed as you tickled all over her midsection. You giggled at her desperate state and lifted her right arm to get at her armpit. She arched her back with a squeal and twisted and turned around on the mattress of her bed. She hadn’t necessarily done anything bad, you just had these moments in which you felt like being evil towards your sister. It was always fun to mess around with her. Plus, she annoyed you to death sometimes so, why not annoy her back?

“Stop laughing so much then!” You teased, zeroing in ok her ribs as she cackled. You smirked and started to punch at her sides.

“I cahahant! It tihihickles!” She giggled. You chuckled and kept playing with her until you heard the rumbling sound of your dad’s van pulling up. You quickly stopped and looked outside the window if Cassie’s room. “Daddy’s here!” She exclaimed. “I’m gonna tell in you! Imma tell daddy you were torturing me.” He said, pointing a mocking finger at you. You turned around to look at her with a nervous smile.

“Please dont tell. I was just playing with you! Don’t tell dad it he’ll get me too.” You begged. But judging by her determined yet evil expression, you knew she was going to do what she wanted. It didn’t matter now though, you had to get out of her room and not look suspicious. You ran out of her room after turning to her one last time. “Don’t tell.”

You ran downstairs and threw yourself in the couch, pretending to watch tv. Seconds later, Scott walked in and set his keys on the rail. “Hey bug.” He greeted, wiping his feet on the rug.

“Hey dad, how was the date?” You asked, trying to breathe evenly from running down the stairs so fast. He smiled as he walked into the kitchen.

“It was great! I really feel like me and Hope are growing in our relationship. But I don’t wanna go all into detail. You’re still young.” He smirked as he waved his hand dismissively. You rolled your eyes and chuckled. He paused to look at the condition of the kitchen and nodded with his eyebrows raised. “I see you girls left the kitchen nice and messy just for me! How thoughtful!” He smiled sarcastically.

“Yup! Thought you might need something to do after your date instead of just going straight to bed.” You smiled. Your dad scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully.

“Ha ha. Hilarious. I’m surprised you guys didn’t just set the whole kitchen on fire. I mean, what didn’t you guys make while I was gone?” He looked around at all the pots and baking pans and mixing bowls that were used and left in the counters. “You guys had a baking competition or something?”

You giggled and turned around and sat up a bit to look at you dad from the couch. “Yeah, we made a lot of brownies and then we got hungry for food and made macaroni. Sorry we made a mess.” You said, laying back down on the couch.

“Well, at least it’s not as bad as last time when I went on that short mission with Hank and Hope.” He shrugged, thinking back to the time he came home to the kitchen so cluttered and messy, he thought he was hallucinating from his tired he’d was. Of course, you helped clean it up, but it still made his eyes sore. You nodded with chuckle and turned your attention back to the tv.

“Daddy!” Cassie squealed as she came running down the stairs to greet her father. You began to feel nervous but you put on the innocent act.

“Hey peanut!” Scott smiled as he bent down to give Cassie a hug. “Did you behave?” He smirked and Cassie bounced on her heels a bit.

“Daddy? I need to tell you something.” She said, her voice dramatically serious. Scott made a serious face to play along with her.

“What is it?”

“Y/n almost killed me.” She said, pointing over to your seat at the couch.

“What?” Your dad asked, looking shocked.

“Yup! She was torturing me like she always does. She was tickling me so much I couldn’t even breathe! I thought I was gonna die!” She squealed. You tried to hide your nervous smirk. Thank god the the couch was positioned towards the tv, them only being able to see the back of the couch.

“No way!”

“Yuh-huh!” Cassie nodded. “She needs to be punished.” She nodded, crossing her arms. You immediately tensed up.

“Well, what do you suggest we do?” Scott asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You need to teach her a lesson!” Cassie cheered, pounding her fists together. Your dad chuckled before bringing her fists down.

“Well, I think you’re right. Y/n should know better than to torture her sister.” He teased, standing up and stepping closer and closer to you, standing behind the couch. “And she should definitely know better than to pretend to be the tickle monster when we all know who’s the real tickle monster around these parts.” You turned a bit to look at him towering over you.

Nervous giggles were already spilling out of you as you covered your torso the best you could. “Daddy wahahait! I wasn’t pretending I wahahas just playing arohohound!” You rambled. He raised his eyebrow at you before circling around the couch to come closer to you.

“Get her, daddy!” Cassie cheered as Scott chuckled before pouncing on you and attacking your belly and making funny growling noises.

“Ack!! Ahhh!” You squealed and threw your head back in defeat as squirmed around time escape your dad’s evil fingers. “Dahahahahaddy plehehehease! Ihihihim sohohohorry!” You laughed, arching your back when his fingers traveled up to your ribs.

“I forgive you, bug, but I still gotta teach you a lesson!” He teased, lifting up your shirt. You knew exactly what was coming and you screamed out begging.

“No! No no no nonono daddy wait! Wait!! Plehehease don’t!” You begged, your dad chuckling as he play fought with you, dodging your pushes and grabs before grabbing your wrists and taking a deep breath. “Nonono please wait! DAHAHAHAHAD!!” You screamed, falling into silent laughter for a few seconds after he blew an abnormally ticklish raspberry right above your belly button.

Scott laughed a bit before bending down to blow another one, eliciting the same reaction out of you. After that, he began to squeeze at your hips, making you squeal and buck. You shook your head side to side as your belly laugh came out.

Your dad surprised you by shooting his hands up your armpits again and wiggling his fingers furiously while burying his head back in your belly. You began to cackle, his fingers in your armpits and his face repeatedly blowing short raspberries on your belly driving you insane. After a few seconds, you felt him mumble into your belly, making growling noises and noms. “Who’s the tickle monster?” He teased, not pausing his attack.

You could barely form words anymore. All you could do was lay there and let out your loud belly laugh. Your dad had no mercy, continuing his attack while repeating his question. “Come on, y/n, if you want me to stop, who’s the real tickle monster?” He asked again.

You gathered the little rest of your strength and finally yelled. “YOU AHAHAHARE! YOU’RE THE TIHIHICKLE MOHOHONSTER!!” You went limp as relief flooded your body when your dad finally stopped and stood up.

“You’re darn right!” He smiled, ruffling your hair and giving you a kiss on your forehead, walking back to the kitchen to start cleaning up. Cassie hopped over to you and pointed a finger at you.

“Ha ha! I got you back!” She giggled, sticking her small hands in the crook of your neck, attempting to tickle you as well. You shrugged up your shoulders with a laugh and playfully pushed her away and you panted.

“Whatever. Go help dad clean up.” You sighed, keeping her at a distance with your hand to keep her from tickling you again.

“Why me?” She furrowed her eyebrows and crossed her arms. You sat up a bit to look at her directly.

“Because, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I almost got tickled to death just now. So excuse me if I’m a little exhausted.” You deadpanned at her, a hint of playfulness in your tone. Cassie dropped her arms down and relaxed her face.

“Fine. I’ll help this time. But you help dad clean up next time okay?” You chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah.” She then skipped her way over to the kitchen and started helping Scott clean up.

[thewheezingbubbledragon]

It Is Done

After a week and a half of working, designing, and occasionally shrieking bc y'all are amazing, I have completed the DC OCs aka us but like we fight bad guys instead of colds.

As always, click for better resolution and ask me in my DMs or in my asks if you can use the art before taking it. ALSOALSOALSO everyone I drew will get the transparent image file of their character!

INTRODUCING THE MAGNIFICENT MARVELOUS MINOR SUGAR RUSHES

INTRODUCING OUR MAIN CAST:

@theatreandcomicfreak aka The Hawklett (or Nightengale to the public) (maybe leader? Idk who would be in charge.)

And the alt. name:

This one was incredibly fun to work on and my favorite part was the chest plate / ragged detailing oj the cape/gloves. I dont know why the color scheme works but it does so imma just walk away and pretend I knew what I was doing.

NEXT UP:

@weird-pale-blonde-person aka Alacrity!

Hands down one of my favorite designs/poses of the whole lot. Probably because @weird-pale-blonde-person designed the suit herself (everyone go follow her shes amazing and I would die for her) and put hours of her life researching the backgrounds, powers, and names of every speedster character in the DCEU to make Alacrity a unique figure! Seriously girl youre insane and I love you

NEXT WE HAVE...:

@evil-elf16 aka Enyo!

One of the most difficult poses to sketch out. I spent like an hour trying different poses and styles to get it to work properly and OH BOY AM I HAPPY WITH HOW THIS TURNED OUT!!! Thank you a million times over for liking the Red Hood design it just sparked my creativity. This was one of the quickest outfit sketches I did aside from Alacrity's bc something just clicked when you said that. God himself was like '+25 to your next inspiration roll' and I just about died.

NEXT UP IS:

@myblacknightworld aka Cain!!

This pose took me the longest to finalize. I went through so many variations and eventually settled on one that was close enough to my original sketch to be frustrating but different enough to be good. Also handsdown one of my favorite outfits that I made. ALSO YOURE ONE OF MY FAVORITE PEOPLE ON THIS SITE I WOJLD DIE FOR YOU. Also, also, I realized it looked oddly like Hawkeye's outift and I cried inside but like.... I still love it okay?

YET ANOTHER ONE WHOOP:

@rogueinkglitch aka Crow Ranger!!

I hated the colors for the first hour of its existence, tweaked one (1) and was suddenly fine. This is what I signed up for when I decided to become an artist, isnt it? This one was SO FUN TO SKETCH bc the wings had SO MANY POSSIBILITIES to make the whole drawing seem more flowy!! I would never have thought up this design for a superhero alone and I love it to bits. (Also your face took so long to draw bc it had to be R I G HT DANGIT I REFUSE TO GET YOUR FACE WRONG YOU'RE TOO HANDSOME AIIGHT?!?!?) Also youre the ONLY boy here. It's amazing. Also one of the taller people?!??!

AND FINALLY:

C'est moi. @thewheezingbubbledragon aka Lady Ataraxia (Or Orchid to the public)

This one... Look I dont draw me often. This was a Struggle(tm) and 90% of this was on ghe fly BUT i finally got it done and i like this version MUCH better than the last one!! How much of a Struggle? I spent 2 hours working out a 3 color pallette and altered 2 of them, added 4 more, and didnt use one at all. I'm the tallest one here. It's amazing and hysterical. I'm almost 5'9" and not a single one of you is over 5'5". It's glorious.

(And hey if any of y'all are interested: I have an Instagram where I'll be posting these (with everybody's permission) as well as a million open commission slots! My instagram is @ commissionimpossible and I'll be opening a commissions tumblr in a few days, hence the @ signature in all the pictures. So yeah, if you like this and want to commission me: send me a DM and we can negotiate on prices, tiers etc! Or e-mail me at commission.impossible.official@gmail.com!!)

All in all one of the greatest projects i have EVER worked on and i met a bunch of beautiful, amazing, caring people. I would willingly die for all of them.

Here's a link to the original post that imspired it!! (I highly reccommend skimming through the notes if youre on a dryspell for inspiration. These people are hilarious, imaginative, and a pure blessing.)

Sorry if I didnt draw your character, I was kinda busy and I only had time for 5 (technically 6 since i didn't count myself bc I am veddy schtupid) but maybe at some point in the future i can do more? In any case THANK EVERYONE WHO LET ME DRAW THEIR CHARACTERS SO MUCH THIS WAS AN AMAZING EXERCISE IN DIFFERENT BODYTYPES, HAIRSTYLES, FACES, AND CHARACTER DESIGN!!!!!!!!!

[morningpages-louise]

July 22, 2019

Life is a journey of self-discovery. Everything we do. Everyone we meet. All the circumstances is meant for us to learn more things about our energies. So strange, how we spend a lifetime discovering things about ourselves. I think its cause we’re constantly evolving and shifting. We’re always changing, and so there’s always something new to uncover. Lest we remain stagnant. I decided to skip OJT today because I needed to catch up on school work which I have yet to start on, plus I have to get ready for my interview this Wednesday.. LORD pls let me wake up. Because I swear to god, I have a really hard time waking up. I cant even wake up to my 20 alarms anymore, legit. Okay my roommate and her boyfriend just came in and ruined my alone time. Lately, I’ve been thinking about travelling, and what an amazing experience it is to meet new people who grew up in completely different settings and cultures than you did, and exploring foreign cities with those people. I miss Amsterdam. I miss Lille. I miss everything. I really developed an attachment for Amsterdam, it’s insane. I can’t wait to do that soon. But first, I must focus on finishing my thesis. You know, I know I have to eventually move to Canada but right now, I can’t imagine it. Having to leave Manila. Earlier as I was pouring coffee and I did that thing where I pretend like my past self is peering over me, along with all the other people in my life (lol, I really home I’m not the only one who does this but if I am its cool too) and I realized that I’m kind of living the life my younger self had envisioned me to. I’m living in a big, vibrant city (Yes, Manila - the shithole everyone likes to look down on, but which I also secretly love) I’m living in an apartment here (Hello, apartment stories) I’m dressed in clothes I totally could envision my future self wearing. Im out here writing. It’s just crazy, I remember seeing this quote before about how we’re living the lives we once dreamed of yet now, because we’re all wanting new stuff, we’ve forgotten about it and how sad that is. We human beings, we never appreciate what we have until we lose it. Right now, I’m still in an awkward-ish place with Kristine because of the party she threw on saturday, but I’m glad that it happened so if ever she throws one again, I can be like no because of how rowdy the other one was. Like I legit had such a hard time sleeping. Yesterday, i was supposed to do work but dude I’ve just been so tired lately. Always doing something. I never have time for myself, or atleast when I do, I’m too tired to even do anything aside from lie on my bed and scroll mindlessly on my phone. My head isn’t in the right place to create. To write. To read. To process anything. It just wants to be gulay. And I think that’s fine too. But yeah. Conserve your energy. So last night, I was literally just reading Sally rooney’s conversation with friends and I forgot what it was like to be so enraptured in a book. Like I literally had to stop myself from reading. I was so hooked, but I couldn’t stop. Ya know. My thoughts are coming in so slow because I’m so distracted I’m not sure if I’m doing this right because I know freehand writing, you’re not even supposed to put periods or correct any phrases but I sometimes reword mine. Oh well, there is no right way to do boring pages dba. I’m spacing out rn lol so funny. But yeah, time to get moving. I just had several thoughts in mind thats all. After this, I shall probably do my makeup and then get going to commune where I shall work for the remainder of the day. I will do my 1se a day post from yesterday since I kind of just passed out. And then maybe fill out a little gratitude post if I feel like it than ill start working by plotting out the tasks that I need to work on in my little cattleya filler. Its gonna be a productive afternoon :) I shall read an essay after this, and maybe do a little meditation. I usually do my meditations at night and cut it real close to the strike of 12 but I somehow always make it and currently my streak is at 8 :D But yeah I love you Manila, and I’m just trying to make the most of my stay here in Pobla because it might be like 2 Torre where time flew way too fast that I wasn’t really able to create lingering memories in. So yeah, brb Imma be productive for a bit.

[spiltscribbles]

43 for pynch please?

~Notes: Hey fam! Thanks so so much for the prompt! I wasn’t sure which list you intended by let me know if it wasn’t the right prompt love

.-

Send Me A Prompt

.-

Ronan flies out to Cambridge on a Thursday afternoon. 

It’s the middle of October, first semester of university, the place where Adam’s fighting and sweating and succeeding as always in Harvard. proving wrong some invisible force that continues to envelop him whole in ways Cabeswater could’ve only dreamed of. (Sometimes, when Ronan can’t sleep, and he’s watching the ever rigid tension seemingly woven into Adam’s shoulders, he wants to ask if that invisible force has the shape of Robert Parrish, and if Adam could ever escape that particular demon. But Ronan never asks and Adam never leads on and that’s enough most of the time.)

Stepping out onto the terminal, Ronan checks his watch— a fancy, leather banded thing with an Italian name. The exact replica he’d once seen Niall dawn. It’s just turned a quarter after three, Adam’s stuck in his lecture till at least half past four, so instead of waiting Ronan waves down a cab and gives the address to the campus.

It’s a miserably rainy New England autumn day, chilly and pouring and all the things Ronan hates. 

Fuck.

It’s not even a school break or anything like that. The only reason why Ronan’s even here, and why Adam agreed to take a voluntary day off is because last week— during one of their insanely frequent Skype sessions where Adam would work on his assignments and Ronan would dick around the farm, punctured by their occasional conversations— Adam had stated, in that measured, stripped down way of his, that they were nearly reaching their one year mark.

“Fuck out here?” Ronan had balked, which in Ronan terms means he snorted with a considerably less snarl. “Who would’ve bet on that?”

“I would have,” Adam says, and fuck, Ronan fucking hates shitty technology because now instead of it just being their stupid voices Adam can see the way those simple little words have elicited an insanely embarrassing response from Ronan. Cheeks and ears infused red and pale eyes darting anywhere but at the screen, thinking that it would probably reck him if he got to see the look on Adam’s face and not be able to kiss him right then. 

“Me too,” he softly confesses. 

“You know Lynch,” Adam had begun with that customary, shit eating charm Ronan was much more comfortable with at this particular moment. “Most normal couples celebrate that kind of shit.”

“You saying we’re not normal Parrish? Because I take that as a fucking offense.”

“I dunno,” Adam levels him with a look through the laptop monitor, low voice transforming to a husky, Henrietta drawl. “You wanna celebrate or not?”

That had been what spurred Ronan on to buying a ticket that night, and what brought him to this hellish fortress of highfalutin  academics and the bratty kids of senators and ambassadors   and millionaires who think of university as merely a downtime until they can get that pretty little superlative to smack on some inconsequential resume.

Except no, this isn’t the ninth circle of hell because Adam’s here, and that makes everything pretty alright.

~*~

Adam meets Ronan at a coffee shop cusping the campus’s borders and nearly topples over his drink when he crashes his lips against Ronan’s as soon as the laws of physics would allow it— a cacophony of lips and teeth and spit that makes Ronan’s toes curl.

“Fucking settle the fuck down Parrish,” Ronan scolds with no actual heat, as if he weren’t meeting every peck with the same amount of fervency, as if his hands weren’t patting up and down his face and locking in his hair, this edge of desperate.

“Embarrassing ya?” Adam teases, nudging their noses together. 

“Sorry to break it to ya lover boy, but You’re always fucking  embarrassing me.”

Adam only leers, carding an appreciative hand through Ronan’s grown out locks. “Lover boy? Hah, i like that. Imma gonna have to use that.”

“I fucking dare you.”

Adam tips back his head with laughter, and Ronan decidedly stays quiet, pretends that the sound isn’t all the golden and splendid and wonderful things he’s ever known strung together, like the most beautiful instrument.

Sometimes Ronan reminds himself that no, he did not in fact dream Adam.

~*~

They do not fucking hold hands all the way to Adam’s dorm because that is totally lame and wimpy and for fucking dorky little bitches. 

But if their pinkies are hooked into one another’s… Well then, who the fuck is even asking?

~*~

“I swear to God Ronan!” Adam reprimands, face set in a scowl and swatting Ronan’s hand away from where it was cupping his ass while Adam was trying to gather the last of his things to throw in his duffle.

“Hey, don’t swear to your creator prick.”

Adam just waggles his tongue at him and Ronan dips down to bite it, which then leads to Adam giving a curious tug onto Ronan’s  hair, making the dreamer moan and Adam get this sharp, instinctive gleam to his eyes that always means trouble in the most spectacular of ways. 

Half an hour later Ronan’s lounging lazily on Adam’s twin sized bed while the aforementioned boy is zipping up the last of his necessary belongings and cursing at him to “Get the fuck up already.”

“Alright, alright madonna, don’t put your fucking panties in a twist.”

“Pretty misogynistic smack for a dude who just had my dick up his ass like ten minutes ago.”

“Yo, I like what I like, doesn’t mean I can’t still pound the face of any fuck that tries getting at me,” Ronan sniffs, mock indignant.

Adam only snorted, letting out a dry breath that tells Ronan that he’s reluctantly amused.

“Fine whatever, you’re an enigma rapped in a contradiction,” Adam waves him off in a universally recognized shooing away motion, making Ronan role his eyes while slipping back on his boxers and jeans. “my point still holds, if you can’t say it in front of Blue, reckon you can’t say it at all.”

“What a peachy bit of advice honey dumplin,” Ronan says in a falsetto, putting on his best imitation of Adam’s accent he can. 

“You. Are. A. Piece. Of. Shit.” Adam tells him between sugar cloaked kisses that taste like coffee and blueberries and the splendor of The Barns at dawn.

Collecting their things and locking up his dorm, the pair don’t make it down the hall before being accosted by another student. An objectively pretty student with long curly hair wrapped into a messy topknot, and warm dark skin, with even darker eyes that have this impossible glittering to them. 

Ronan hates her right on sight. 

“Adam! Oh thank God!” She crows, and Ronan most certainly does not appreciate the way it’s like she can’t help but run her eyes up and down his person before settling on his face, features going soft as she spoke to him.

“Hey Kat,” Adam greets, and Ronan is savagely proud that it’s with distinctly less enthusiasm. “whats going on?”

“Professor Gomez! I completely and totally lost the paper where i wrote all the junk he wanted for our presentations! And I’m totally wigging out because it’s too late to email him now and I haven’t started! And I don’t even remember what he even kinda wanted! Like fuck! I know he’s old but learn how to put shit online right? And I’m just such a mess and—“

Adam rises up a hand, lips quirked in an amused half smile. “Aren’t you presenting tomorrow?”

“You see my dilemma then!” She presses, big, caff like eyes pleading with him. 

“I don’t know how you put yourself through so much pressure the night of.”

“We’re all not geniuses like you Parrish,” she says in what Ronan bets was meant to be a scoff, but instead came out fond and self deprecating.

“Thankfully not,” Adam winked.”Let me grab my notebook from my room, I don’t need it anymore anyhow.”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She almost gushed.

“Course,” Adam says before turning slightly so that he’s only looking at Ronan, one eyed quirked in silent command for him to stay put. Ronan’s answering twist of the lips— telling him that he’s not his fucking keeper— must’ve not had the same bite behind it as intended because Adam only chuckles before elbow checking him and pivoting around back to his room. 

Just as soon as he’s out of ear shot the inevitable, exceedingly awkward, silence basically collapses between Ronan and this new girl who’s distinctly apart of Adam’s life that Ronan is separated from. 

Again, Ronan decidedly does not like her.

“So, ah, I’m Kat,” she tries to introduce, as if Ronan gave one singular fuck. “And you must be Adam’s boyfriend…  Ronan?”

Something warm and content coils deep in Ronan’s gut at the idea that Adam’s spoken about him to his college friends, to this girl in particular. That they know of him and could probably rattle off a few superficial facts about him that Adam’s told them. It makes him feel relevant, thought about. Makes him feel like Adam misses him nearly as much Ronan does him.

But this intruder doesn’t need to see the pleasure that causes.

“No shit,” he says with venom. “What gave it away? The just got fucked hair he’s sporting or the fact his jeans are sagging enough so you can see him wearing my Calvin boxers.”

In an instant, something passes through the girl’s, Kat’s, eyes, her mouth set in a straight line and posture stiff. 

“No actually, I just got a distinct, woe with me, tragic white boy with a past vibe from the little bit of descriptions Adam’s managed out, and well, you seem to fit that quite nicely.”

Ronan doesn’t mean for the huff of laughter to spill out his lips, but it does, and he may or may not hate her just a little less.

“Sorry,” she says with a grimace, falling back to a more relaxed stance. “That was rude.”

“What the fuck ever,” Ronan shrugs, snide.

“Right,” she nods, worrying on her bottom lip. “Well, ah… Adam’s doing great here.”

“Did I ask for your assessment on how’s Adam doing?”

“The way you were smiling at him before I interrupted and how you stared after his ass when he left was question enough,” Kat sniffs, and no never mind. Ronan definitely does not like her, not even slightly. 

“Fuck off.”

“He’s like flourishing,” she continues, as if completely impervious to Ronan’s nasty attitude. And fuck, he’s actually worried that Sargent’s taunting might’ve been right and love has made him soft. Or maybe this chick is just made out of some hard stuff, which then of course leads to the subsequent question of how is it that Adam seems to attract the impossible to him like he’s some sort of ley line all his own.

“Pardon me if I think you saying he’s flourishing is a load of bull shit considering you’ve known’m for like a hand full of weeks. And I own a fucking farm, I know what bull shit looks like.”

She pulls a face but charges on anyways, only ducking her head ever so slightly. Ronan supposes that’s as much of a concession as he’s ever gonna get from her. 

“Okay, point, that’s reasonable. But still, he’s changed, even just from that distant, aloof boy from my orientation group back in August… He’s like open up to some people in like certain ways… I mean like sure yeah it’s all really basic rudimentary stuff about’m, but like at least he’s letting people in? Yah know?”

Ronan does know, he knows probably better than anybody— even Gansey and Blue— that the one thing Adam hates is talking about himself, that he prefers the cold exterior to ever letting someone all the way in. They’re working on it, Ronan’s not exactly a walk in the fucking park either… 

Ronan nods to her, nods and ignores the all too familiar gleam to her eyes and touch of color to her cheeks. He looks at her and pretends he doesn’t remember that expression looking back at him in the mirror for sophomore and junior and a good chunk of senior year too, until he realized he might’ve had a chance.

“Yeah,” he tells her, watches as she darts her gaze anywhere but at him. “I know.”

She lets loose some of the static in the air with a little cough, and Ronan is thankful for it. 

“But yeah,” she continues on as if nothing had passed. “He’s a life saver, this Spanish class is way harder than they let on. I mean I know he says his Ma didn’t speak much of it at home but like you must’ve heard considering you guys went to school together. Like some of the dialect is just innate, I swear. I mean I think the ability to role your Rs is an abomination, and I’m like so jealous.”

She continues on with her nervous chatter, but Ronan doesn’t take any of it in, he’s still stuck on the bit where she made it seem as if Adam had some natural inclination to the language at hand…. As if his mother spoke it or something. And well, Ronan was never made privy to that, like ever, and he doesn’t know how he should feel about that. The fact that she, this random college friend, knew something Ronan definitely did not about the boy he’s suppose to be in relationship with.

She trails off and Ronan doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s because Adam’s finally returned. 

“Stuff highlighted in yellow are the requirements, orange’s the supplemental readings that should help, and green’s extra credit.”

“Oh God! Thank you Adam!” She squawks, full of glee when she leaps into his arms. “I could totally kiss you right now, ya know if your totally ripped, completely cross boyfriend weren’t standing right here… Hah, ah that was a joke, if it wasn’t clear…” She directs that part to Ronan and he just bares his teeth at her. “Oh, okay then.

With another round of thank yous, Kat waves goodbye. “See you in class tomorrow for my inevitably amazing presentation!”

“Oh, ah actually I won’t be there. Me and Ronan are going out to the city tonight for a long weekend,” he jostles his duffle as if to prove a point and Kat instantly smiles. 

“Are you telling me that Adam Parrish is taking an actual day off? Under his own free will?”

“I am,” he laughs.

“I’ll make sure to take you worthy notes then.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Can we get the fuck going before we completely miss our train?” Ronan interjects, only partially meaning it.

“You got yourself a real peach Parrish,” she harrumphs before walking off.

Adam glowers a total of three and a half minutes before dissolving into peals of laughter at a face Ronan makes at him. 

“Dork.”

“Dumbass.”

.-

The hotel suite is nice, nicer than the pictures on line lead on, and nicer than Adam would’ve ever allowed if he had any say, but Ronan’s trying to be fucking romantic or what the fuck ever, so he paid for it without telling him and he told Parrish to shove a dick down his throat when he started chiding at him for being so lavish— so not Frugal, so not him— with his money… And well.

“You taste like dick,” Ronan snarks, as cheeky as a snake can get, and Adam just throws him the bird when he leads down for another kiss.

“I’ll tell Gansey you don’t like his flavor,” Adam goads.

“Hey! What the fuck did I say about bringing up Gansey or any of them when our dicks are touching?”

“Huh, I dunno?” Adam blinks, faux owlish. God, Ronan’s in love with such a sarcastic asshole.

“I hate you and this is over.” Ronan tells him, matter of fact.

“Sounds reasonable,” Adam says, unimpressed while he gets up. The dim light of the room caresses the soft lines and flat planes of his beautiful face, skirts across the dips and valleys of his shoulders and stomach muscles and brings out the specs of gold in his hair. Ronan thinks back to earlier that day when Adam had teasingly called him an enigma, and silently laughs to himself, because Adam knows him. Adam knows the gears and slings that operate in his body and the staples of his life that sing in his soul. The memory of his parents, Matthew— reluctantly Declan too— The Barns, Adam himself. 

Adam knows all the intimate bits that string Ronan together but sometimes Ronan wonders if it’ll ever be a mutual trade. 

Adam’s always been beautiful to him, like a favorite piece of art that you can’t quite make out behind all the shadows, but now Ronan thinks that he’s also just as riddling as some of those posh paintings that hang up in places like The Whitney, the ones that Niall always pointed out in wonderment when he took his boys during their frequent family trips to New York City. Yes, Ronan thinks Niall would’ve been very much intrigued by Adam if they had ever met.

Swallowing down a lump he can feel start to form, Ronan breathes in before speaking, afraid that his voice might crack like some fucking ballerina.

“That Kat chick is fucking annoying.” Is what he decides to blurt out. 

“She’s not so bad once you get to know her,” Adam admonishes, redressing into a pair of Ronan’s slightly too long sweats. “She’s ambitious though, already the secretary to the Black Student Union and is running for a senate seat for student government.”

“well la-di-da,” Ronan snarls, derisive.

“Someone’s sour after a phenomenal BJ, if I do say so myself,” Adam counters, picking up the clicker and flipping on CNN to the muted tv.

There’s a thousand thoughts warring inside of Ronan’s head right now. Cursing at Adam and just moving on with the conversation and their weekend. Cursing at Adam and staying in his admittedly foul mood. Asking Adam just how many of these impossibly pretty, impossibly bright college kids are flirting with him while he stays oblivious. Asking him if he regrets having a ball and chain back in Henrietta. But what eventually clammers out his throat in a burning fury and pours from his lips is something that’s been nagging at him all fucking night long. 

“I didn’t know your mom spoke Spanish?” 

Adam turns around to him, lips pinched and brows furrowed, probably trying to parse out why Ronan sounds so peeved off.

“Ah yeah, I mean like her whole family’s from Mexico, she grew up speaking it.”

“Didn’t know she was Mexican either,” Ronan very nearly barks, hates how this suddenly feels like a betrayal. “So what you’re half Mexican and half…”

Adam’s face goes blank, and Ronan knows he’s annoyed him, truly, now.

“I dunno what the fuck Robert was, a bunch of different white trash shit. Why do you care?”

“You know my fucking heritage.”

“Niall’s a hundred percent Irish, and your ma is hundred percent dream, it isn’t that hard to explain.”

“And yet you couldn’t explain that your mom was Mexican.”

“You couldn’t guess from a name like Claudia Flores?”

“So what, her fucking name is hispanic, how am I suppose to pick out from which exact country or if she actually spoke it.” Ronan doesn’t know how to be any more clear about this.

“I don’t know why you’re so mad? What is the big deal here?”

“You’re fucking college girlfriend knew and I didn’t?” Ronan finally says, feels the piercing in his chest begin to dissipate at the light of understanding starting to come over Adam’s face.

“You are such a fucking idiot.” He tells him, astonished.

“Real nice prick,” Ronan scrambles off the bed, hates how vulnerable he is just lying there. “Just go fuck off.”

But before Ronan could storm into the bathroom he feels Adam’s hand— long fingers and rough edges— circling around his wrist, gentle, like a question.

“Ronan you’re an idiot because you seem not to understand just how much I fucking love you.”

Ronan stays facing the door, refuses to show Adam what kind of an effect he has on him, how his face goes blotchy and throat feels like it’s constricting. 

“Fuck off Parrish,” Ronan repeats, though it’s in a much quieter tone.

“I don’t know how to convince you to the truth,” Adam continues to speak as if Ronan hadn’t interrupted, tugging on him so he turns around and they’re face to face, blue eyes boring into blue. “I’m in love with you, I think I was in love with you before I knew even I could actually feel it…. That I wasn’t my father and that I actually got to have you. You’re amazing Ronan, you’re everything.”

Adam breathes out, like he’s marveling at him, and Ronan can barely handle the wonderment in his eyes, the way he’s holding and gazing at Ronan like he’s something fragile, something precious. Something he’s in love with.

“Whatever,” Ronan finally huffs out before snaking his arms around Adam’s still naked torso and kissing him to an inch of his life. 

“I love you too,” Ronan eventually says once they’re back in bed, and his head is propped on Adam’s chest where he can hear the fluttering of his heartbeat, and Adam’s tracing small circles on his back. 

He doesn’t think either of them really understands how much the other feels in it’s entirety, but he’s ready to spend an eon to try.