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her-power · 11 months ago

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The End of All Things (Part Four: e.m. x fem reader)

TRIGGER WARNING & C/W: 18++++ MDNI!!! Sweet! Eddie, hurt/comfort, grief, talk of grief, fluff, heavy drug use, suicidal thoughts, talk of death/dying, lots of crying, lots of swearing, some smut, unprotected p+v, trauma

Part One: Denial Part Two: Anger Part Three: Bargaining

Summary: Relationships are tested, choices are made, words hurt, and you might end up kicking Eddie Munson's ass. Full plot summary is on part one of this series.

Word Count: 8.6k

A/N: I also submitted an original sketch in this part. It's been years since I have drawn something so it's not great and I fucking forgot how hard it is to draw hands and draw a person lmao but I wanted to give you guys a little added bonus to this series.

A/N #2: This part was a bit rough for me to write, but also super healing in a way. I felt like I was looking into the eyes of all of my friends as I was writing this and just remembering things after so many years since losing my mom. Part Five will be released after the holidays, I need a bit of a break to be with my family and be prepared for the griefy feels. I love you all, thank you for giving me a platform to be creative and to heal. <3

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Eddie was pacing in the break room of the record store; inhaling deeply on his cigarette as he tried to gather his thoughts. The trip back home was uneventful, you had stayed at the Inn in Philadelphia for a night again. He had noticed a change in you after the cemetery. It was subtle changes; you would be unusually quiet, but then you would snap out of it and that big, beautiful smile he loved so much would appear. You were tired a lot; Eddie had noticed the bags under your eyes as the weeks went by. He knew you weren’t sleeping. Even when he would stay in the same bed as you, he knew you only pretended to be asleep. When you thought he was asleep, he would hear you rummage around in the kitchen, or go sit out on the porch, smoking a joint.

Then it hit the two-month mark, and you were starting to terrify him. Summer was almost over, you had lost interest in things you loved to do, like painting, singing, reading. You would go to work, come home, stay awake, sleep, and then go to work again.

Eddie would try to get you to talk to him, but you would shut down, blocking out anything and everything around you.

He plops on the chair, his leg bobbing nervously, cigarette dangling out of his mouth. He stood up and started pacing again, he couldn’t sit.

Eddie had called the realtor two weeks ago; she had a kind voice and gave him useful information and advice when it came to potentially buying a house. He was also curious why there weren’t any hits on the house, it had been on the market for a while and parts of it had been redone but no one was interested in buying it. She told him it was a mystery to her as well, there was nothing aesthetically wrong with the house, the foundation was perfect, the roof was brand new, but no one seemed to care for it. The owners had lowered their price five thousand dollars under the asking price, and there was still no jump.

He had been saving money here and there for a couple years; he would call it his emergency fund. But when he had saw how you looked at your childhood home, how your eyes lit up with nostalgia and joy, he knew what he had to do.

He was doing everything in his power to get enough money for the down payment on the house; he had mentioned the plan to your father. Eddie had thought he would think he was crazy, that neither one of you could afford to live in a house, let alone a mortgage. Instead, he asked Eddie how much he needed. Eddie didn’t want anything, he told him, just support. Your father then said something to him that he will never forget.

“I have two loves in my life: my wife, and my daughter. Some people aren’t lucky enough to have that happen to them. Some dad’s leave, some do stupid shit and some die. I love my daughter with all my heart, but I don’t want her to feel stuck here. I don’t want her to worry about me or worry about what my future holds. I don’t want her to stop her life because her mother died. I’m gonna be okay. I’m going through it, and I’m always going to, but I’m okay. I’m practically an old man, I lived my life, and it was beautiful. It’s still beautiful, but I’m not gonna fully rest until I know that my daughter will be okay. And if she stays here, she won’t be.” He swallows, taking off his glasses to clean the lenses. “Now, I’m asking you how much you need not as a charity. But as a man, looking at a kid I watched grow up to become a man and fall in love with my daughter, who has been by her side through all of this. Wiped her tears, fed her, laugh with her. My daughter loved that house, and the fact that you didn’t even hesitate to call the realtor speaks volumes just what kind of man you are. You want to see her happy, and you are a big part of her happiness. I couldn’t have asked for a better man to love my daughter. I know her mother would agree. So, you’re gonna tell me a number, and I’m gonna do my best to give it to you. Don’t fight me on this.”

Eddie had almost sobbed right there; it was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to him. He told him a number, and your father said to give him two weeks. Part of him still didn’t want to take it, but he knew if he didn’t, your father would give the whole thing to the realtor.

He had lit up another cigarette and blew his bangs out of his face. He had called you a few hours ago; you had the day off and planned on taking a nap. Eddie had told you he had found this certain type of acrylic paint you had needed and asked if he wanted to pick it up for you. You had thanked him but said no, and the rest of the phone call was uncomfortable silence.

“Munson!” Sully’s booming voice comes echoing into the break room.

Eddie sighs. “What?”

Sully peeks his head in, his large frame would intimidate most people, especially since he had an enormous throat tattoo, but Sully was a big teddy bear. He was a businessman second, and a father to two beautiful little girls first. “You good, kid?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He inhales on his cigarette and puts it out in the ashtray.

“Any word from her?” Sully was asking about you, and Eddie had told him he spoke to you a while ago. “How’s the money saving going?”

Eddie had told Sully about his plans, and he was more than onboard with it. He said he was close to the owner of the record store on Newbury St in Boston, that he had put in a good word for him, and the owner was more than happy to welcome him into the store when he was ready. The record store in Boston was two floors, both floors had rows of records, and the bottom floor had a little sound stage where locals would perform for a monthly open mic night.

Eddie had gone back on the floor with a tote of jazz vinyls, he sat in the aisle and organized the records by artist. Robin had come to visit, had sat on the floor with him, passing him each artist he asked for.

“I’m worried about her.” Robin says suddenly, looking up to meet Eddie’s eyes. Eddie glances at her and goes back to moving around the vinyls, swallowing hard.

“Me too.” Eddie says softly.

“Has she said anything? When I saw her at the Hideout last week, she looked like a walking zombie for Pete’s sake.” Robin looks up at him, he shook his head, staring at his hands, the skull ring on his middle finger. He fingers it gently. “Are you alright, man?”

“Not really.” He laughs tiredly and looks at her. “She won’t talk to me about how she’s feeling. She’ll talk to me about everything else but that.”

“What happened at the cemetery?” She asked gently.

Eddie shakes his head, running his hands over his face. “A breaking point, I think.”

“Jesus.” She mutters. “What do we do? Intervention? Get a priest? I don’t know how this shit works; I’ve never had someone close to me die before. Is there a rule book? Do we just not say anything and let her be stubborn and just slowly disappear until she’s whittled down to nothing, and we just glue her back together and tell her we love her but what if at that point it’s too late and we can’t—"

Eddie kneels in front of Robin, gently holding her face. “Hey, breathe, dude. Deep breaths.”

“I don’t want anything to happen to her.” Robin tells him quietly, her eyes filling with tears as she looks at her friend. “Why did this have to happen?”

Eddie caresses her head, gently patting her and pulls her in for a hug. “I don’t know.” He mutters. He was so tired of saying it, tired of saying he didn’t know, because it sounded so fucking simple, but it wasn’t.

“Why doesn’t she want to talk to us? We’re her friends, she shouldn’t have to suffer alone.” Robin looks up at him and he sighs, gently knocking her chin.

“I’m going over there after work. I don’t care if she hates me, I need to at least get an idea of what’s going on.” He leans back against the shelves, leaning his arms on his bent knees and Robin wipes her face.

“How are you holding up?” Eddie looks at her. “With all of this? Losing her too?”

Eddie gives her a sad smile. “Would you believe if I told you I was fine?”

“No.” She smirks at him.

“It’s a surreal feeling honestly.” He realizes he hasn’t spoken about this with anyone, even you. “The only time I ever experienced some sort of loss was when my dad went to prison, but fuck him, he can rot there for all I care. But he’s still alive, she’s not. I’m still trying to process how someone can be here one minute, living, breathing, and then just be…dead.” He shrugs, realizing he’s crying and quickly wipes his tears away, he almost laughs. “See? I don’t even notice I’m crying, it’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not.” Robin says, reaching over to squeeze his knee. “You’re going through it too.”

“Yeah, but I feel like I shouldn’t.” He sniffles, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “She wasn’t my mother.”

Robin gives him a sweet smile. “No, but she was the next best thing to you.”

He sighs, shaking his head, another tear falls down his cheek. “There’s just so much pain in her. I can feel it.”

He points to his heart, “I see how much pain she’s in and I want to take all of it, so she doesn’t have to, I’d rather suffer with it for the rest of my life, then watch someone like her go through that when she didn’t deserve it. Her mother didn’t deserve to die. I guess no one does, even the shitty ones.”

“Nah, the shitty ones deserve it.” Robin laughs and Eddie chuckles. “You really love her, huh?”

Eddie nods and he sighs, looking into her eyes. “I have to tell you something.”

Eddie tells her his entire plan, about the house, about your father helping him with some of the down payment. He told her about going to see your childhood home, how it’s been on the market since June, and no one is interested. He told her that if his plan works, he’s gonna ask you to marry him the first night you sleep in the house, and that was the first time he has said it out loud. Robin cried happy tears, followed by punching him in the arm.

“You guys are leaving me!”

“Ow!” Eddie laughs, rubbing his arm. “It’s not even set in stone yet.”

“Dude, you know it’s gonna be!” Robin smiles, pulling him in for a hug. “I’m happy for you, but I’m gonna fucking miss you, man.”

Eddie kisses the top of her head, rubbing her shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll miss you too.”

“Steve is gonna be devastated.”

“Nah he’ll be fine.” Eddie jokes. “Yeah, I know. His little boy is growing up.”

“That sounds so gross when you say it like that.”

***

Eddie had driven to your house after closing the store; your car was still in the driveway and the outside lights were on. Your father had gone to Jimmy’s for the weekend, and he had called Eddie at the store to make sure he planned on going over there. Your father didn’t say it, but he was worried about you too.

Eddie walks into the house, hearing the television playing in the living room. He peeks his head into the living and sees your form curled up on the couch, a knitted blanket over you with your hood over your head. It was freezing in the house, Eddie had saw you set the air conditioner to 60 degrees. The only source of light was from the television, it was nick at nite and I Love Lucy was playing. Eddie notices the three empty beer bottles on the coffee table, a half smoked joint, and a bottle of aspirin. He quietly clears the table, dumping out the remaining beer from the bottles in the sink and tossing them in the recycling. He washes his hands and heads back to the living room; he squats on the side of the couch where you were laying, leaning forward to kiss your cheeks softly and caress your head. You stir, opening your eyes, meeting Eddie’s and you smile softly.

“Hey baby.” Eddie says sweetly to you, rubbing your cheek.

“Hey.” Your voice is groggy, and you sit up a little, stretching. “What time is it?” You pull your hood down, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“A little after ten. Go back to sleep, I just wanted you to know I was here.” He kisses the top of your hand, and you lean into him to kiss his lips.

“No, it’s okay, I feel like I haven’t seen you.” You lay back on the couch pillow, reaching out your hand to cup his cheek. Eddie put his hand over yours, and scans your face, he hated how tired you looked. Your hair was in a messy braid over your shoulder, you looked like you had been crying for hours before he got there.

And your eyes.

Eddie inhales a shaky breath as he looks in your eyes and sees that the light that was once there, was gone. You notice his staring.

“What?” You ask with a smile.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, getting up and sitting next to you, lifting your legs to drape them over his lap. “I just missed you today.”

You smile, reaching over to entwine your fingers. Eddie leans his head back on the couch, gently rubbing massaging circles around your thighs as you both stare at the television.

Eddie feels you shudder under his touch, so he stops.

Apparently, you didn’t want him to stop, because the next thing that happens is you straddling him, pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss. He holds your waist tightly and groans when you grind yourself against his jeans. You pull off your hoodie, wearing only a lace bra and you deepen the kiss again.

Talk to her, idiot! Eddie is saying to himself, and he moans in response when your teeth graze his throat. She knows exactly what she’s doing, she’s avoiding, she knows how she looks, stop kissing her and talk to her!

Eddie’s conscious screams at him but he continues to kiss you, continues to touch your skin. His skin prickles with goosebumps when your hand touches his stomach above his jeans. Your hand slides down into his pants, grasping his hard length in your hand and Eddie moans loudly.

You’re a stupid fuck! Snap out of it, dummy!

“Wait, wait, wait.” Eddie finally says breathlessly against your lips. “Stop, stop.”

You pull away from him, removing your hand as if it burned. You stare at him with confusion and concern that you may have hurt him. Eddie runs his hands over his face, leaning forward on his knees. “We need to talk.”

“Don’t like that.” You say softly, laughing a little, your heart was racing.

“No, it’s not that kind of talk.” Eddie gives you a sad smile, taking your hand in his and rubbing his thumb over your skin. “You’re starting to scare me.”

You pause, staring at his face. “What? What do you mean?”

Eddie looks at you, really looks at you. “You know what I mean.”

You pull your hand away from his and he sighs, he can already feel you pulling away, he can see it in your eyes too. “Eddie, I’m fine.”

Frustration rose in his chest, and he wants to laugh but he doesn’t, he scoffs instead. “Is that a lie you’re telling me or telling yourself? Do you really think you’re fine?”

She blinks, her eyes already widening with tears. “I’m not lying, Eddie.”

“When was the last time you ate? When was the last time you did something you actually enjoyed? Because for two months, you have been disappearing in front of my eyes.” His own tears were filling his eyes, and he blinks them away. “You need to talk to me.”

“And say what? What do you want me to say, Eddie?” You raise your voice.

“Fucking anything!” He gets up from the couch and paces. You watch him with sad eyes. “Jesus Christ; I know you’re hurting; I know you’re in pain, I can clearly see that but all I’m asking is for you to talk to me. I told you I’m here for you, but instead you’re pushing me away!”

“Okay. You want me to talk? Let’s talk.” Your bottom lip trembles as you look up at him and toss your hoodie back over your body. “Every single damn day I am praying that I don’t wake up in this life, and I wake up in the next because I am tired. I am so tired, Eddie. When I sleep, I don’t feel this fucking throbbing pain in my chest like I feel right now. When I sleep, I have dreams instead of nightmares now and I see her. I see her and she’s alive and I want to stay there. I physically cannot stand to look at myself in the mirror because of how fucked up I look. I don’t tell you these things because it’s not your fucking job to heal me, it’s no one’s job.”

Eddie stands there stunned, his fingers clench around his chest, a lump forms in his throat, and a breath escapes him. “You’re telling me, that every day you pray you don’t wake up? How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?!”

“You wanted to talk!” You snap at him. “You wanted the truth so I’m telling you!”

Tears form in his eyes as he stares at you. “Do you have any idea what that would do to me if I lost you? I mean, fuck, I feel like I’m almost there just by how you’ve been lately. It would destroy me if something happened to you. It would kill me. And you pray for that every day?”

You stand up from the couch, grabbing the joint from the table and lighting it quickly; you inhale and let the smoke billow from your nostrils. “I don’t want to die Eddie.”

“Then what the fuck are you saying to me?!” He yells, tears spilling from his eyes.

“I’m saying I don’t want to feel this pain anymore! If I could cut it out of me without bleeding out I would do it! If I could swallow a bunch of pills just to get rid of it and be okay, I would do it! I don’t want to die; I want to kill this part of me that feels all this pain and guilt and fucking grief and just be done with it!” You yell at him, hot tears stream down your face. “So yeah, I pray for it.”

Eddie runs his hands over his mouth, a small sob escaping him as he stares at you. “Why haven’t you told me this?” His voice is so full of pain, it kills you.

“Because it’s not your job to heal me.”

“It is if I want to spend the rest of my life with you!” He cries and your breath hitches. “Fuck! I want it all with you. I want you; I want the marriage, I want those babies with you, I want a fucking house in the suburbs with a damn dog! Hell, maybe even a cat. But I meant it when I said that when I look to the future, you’re in it. And right now; I feel like you’re telling me you don’t want any of that.”

“Of course, I do.” You say quietly, averting your eyes, wiping away your tears.

“I don’t think you do.” Eddie’s hand goes over his heart again, feeling it slowly break.

“You’re not inside my head, okay?” You snap at him and point to your temple. “It’s a fucking mess in here. Why would you want to be with someone for the rest of your life who can’t even take a shower? Who has a devil and angel on her shoulder, one telling her it’s okay to feel all this pain and the other telling her, grab those drugs from a few months ago! You won’t feel a goddamn thing!”

“Hold on a minute, you told me you didn’t have any left.” He was big mad; you could see it in his eyes.

“I lied.” You meet his eyes, and he lets out a laugh.

“I know exactly what you’re trying to do and hate to break it to you, sweetheart. It’s not gonna work.” He wipes his eyes and his nose. “Did you do it?”

“No.” You whisper.

“Go get it then.” Eddie sneers and you look at him like he slapped you. “If you want to do it, numb your pain that way, fucking doit. I’ll do it with you. It will be a Kodak fucking moment.”

“No. Eddie what the fu—"

“Why? You want to kill that part of yourself, right? Why don’t you kill it slowly with the drugs? Better yet, I’ll go find the guy that supplied the shit that I had, and I’ll go on a fucking ride.” He heads towards the door, tears still running down his face, his eyes wild. You follow him and grab his arm.

“Eddie, stop it! That could fucking kill you!”

“Just a small part of me.” Eddie says, his tone cold.

You let go of his arm, eyes narrowing. “Oh, fuck you!”

“Stings, doesn’t it?”

“What are you doing!? Why are you acting like this?!” You yell through your tears.

“Because you’re not the only one who lost her!” It’s out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Your eyes are wide, glistening with tears. He stares at you, rubbing his palm over his lips. “I cannot imagine the pain you feel right now. But I look at you and I can feel it radiate it from you, every single day. The light in your eyes is gone. And it’s because you choose to suffer with this grief alone.”

You step back from him, shaking your head as you stare at him. “You know what? You need to go. Get out.”

“You think I’m gonna leave after what you just told me? You’re out of your mind.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“You are a fucking asshole!” Your eyes are wide, wild. You open the front door. “I don’t care if you sleep outside in your van, you need to get away from me!” Tears are pouring down your cheeks as you throw open the front door, you look up at him. “You promised me you wouldn’t push. You promised.”

“I guess we’re both liars then.” His big brown eyes match your same wild ones, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Please. Just go. Go away.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Eddie says through his gritted teeth.

“I want you to! I don’t want to see you! I don’t want to be in the same room as you! Get the fuck out of my house! Get out or I’m calling the fucking cops!”

He stares at you hard. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“I wouldn’t? I’ll just say the magic words, town freak, right?”

His breath hitches and he felt his heart snap in two. Those words have haunted him for five years, and you used it as ammunition, you aimed, and fired. He looks out to his van and then back at you, his face turns from sadness to full on anger. “Fine. Go ahead and suffer alone.”

He walks away from you, you slam the door shut, and slide down to the floor. Your breathing accelerates and you sob into your hands. You did it, you actually did it. You just took the last ten years, wrapped it up in a ball and threw it in the dumpster.

Eddie hops into his van, not even bothering to put his seat belt on and peels out of your driveway. He doesn’t even know where he’s going, he just drives. His heart was pounding, behind his eyes stung, he felt like he had his entire body was vibrating. He passes the Leaving Hawkins sign and keeps driving until he’s on a dark stretch of road; he pulls over to the side and turns the car off. He leans his forehead against the steering wheel, his breathing picking up, his hands grip the wheel in a white-knuckle grip. He leans back, punching his dashboard not once, not twice, but three times, and he screams, the sound so guttural, so full of pain, full of anger. “Fuuuuuuck!!!!!!!”

He sobs, hard. His body trembling as every single emotion that he had bottled up these last few months finally made its way to the surface. He shouldn’t have pushed, he knows that, but he’s glad he did. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have known how bad you were hurting, but it didn’t matter now. You told him to go, so he did. He takes a cigarette out, lights it and inhales, his breath trembling as the smoke comes out. He didn’t want to feel like this anymore, he needed to feel something else other than this pain, and he felt like a goddamn hypocrite when he turns on the van, driving to Indianapolis to a spot where he knew he’d be able to get rid of his pain. It didn’t matter now, none of it mattered, he was just pulling the strings to his own destruction.

He completely disassociated on the ride to the city; he doesn’t even remember putting on music. He goes down a side street, trying to remember if he’s in the right spot, and when he sees the neon BEER sign, he knew he reached his destination. He only knew about this place because of his dad, he had brought him here when he was last out of prison. In every corner of the bar, someone was snorting something, drinking something, smoking something. He parks the van and gets out; as soon as he opens the door to the bar he is hit with aromas of weed, cigarette smoke, and stale beer. It wasn’t that crowded, and Eddie was glad. He sits on the stool at the bar, the bartender was an older woman, maybe in her late fifties, with kind eyes and a sweet smile.

“What can I get you, honey?” She asks sweetly, placing a napkin in front of him.

“Whiskey, please, straight.” He hands her a twenty-dollar bill, which she hesitates to take, but does anyway.

She places the glass in front of him, and he brings the rim of the glass to his lips, knocking the whole thing back. He winces at the bitter taste and twirls his finger around asking for another. She refills his glass, and he nurses this one.

“You look like you’ve been trekking through a war zone there, sweetheart.” She tells him gently, leaning against the bar, shining a glass.

Eddie meets her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m not gonna pry, I’m just not sure if you’ve come to the wrong place or the right place.” She gently pats his hand and goes down to the other side of the bar to talk to the other patrons. Eddie glances around the bar, and his eyes fix on a booth in the corner. There’s a man speaking to a woman with their heads bowed, she couldn’t have been much younger than Eddie, she was strikingly beautiful, but had very sad eyes, he notices the exchange. The man had put something in her hand, and she walks away from him, leaving the bar. The man notices Eddie staring and nods at him with a smile, Eddie nods back, looking away from him. He stares at his glass, twirling it in his fingers, the brown liquid moves side to side as he stares at the glass. He turns his head to look over his shoulder, the man was still there, quietly sipping his beer, looking up at the television that had some sort of sports game on.

Eddie knocks the rest of his second drink back and gets up from the stool. He feels the hair prickle on the back of his neck as he walks towards the man. The man looks at him and smiles, leaning back in his seat. He looked like a washed-up version of Robert DeNiro, a little intimidating, otherwise he seemed nice.

Eddie takes out his hand and the man takes it. “Hi, I’m Eddie.”

“Leon.” He sounded southern, Eddie thought. “What can I do for you?”

“I don’t know, what do you got?” Eddie asks, already feeling the effects of the drugs that he didn’t even take yet. That’s how much he loved it the first time he tried it, and that was by accident. Again, it didn’t matter anymore.

Puppet.

“Uppers, downers, china white—"

Pulling the strings.

“How much for the China white?”

Destruction.

Eddie had driven back to the county line outside of Hawkins and had parked in an abandoned fishing spot. The only source of light was from the moon reflecting off the pond, and he opens the square. Leon had told him that if he wasn’t going to shoot it, he’d have to go slow, a small bump. Eddie hated needles, despite having all his tattoos, he couldn’t understand how someone could willingly stick a needle in their arm.

You’re about to snort it, you stupid fuck. What’s the difference? It’s still heroin.

Eddie takes a cassette from under his seat, he didn’t even bother to look at who the artist was, he was gonna throw it out anyway. He sprinkles a little bit of powder on it, no bigger than his fingernail and takes a rolled-up dollar bill. With no hesitation, he’s snorting it into his air ways. He grunts, his nostrils stinging, and a wave of nausea hits him. The cassette tape falls out of his hands, and he feels the vomit hit the back of his throat. He pushes his door open with his shoulder, vomiting all over the ground. He leans his body onto the door panel, wiping his mouth, coughing a little and that’s when he feels it. His eyes flutter close, and he feels a smile grace his lips.

“Oh shit.” He whispers, feeling the euphoria coursing through his blood stream, his nervous system, everywhere. He tries to think of something, think of you, think of her, and he felt nothing. Puppet. Strings. Destruction. He practically drags himself into his driver seat and slams his door. He reaches for the bag of powder, blindly finds the dollar bill and snorts again. He laughs when he lifts his head up, it falls back onto the headrest. Before he knew it, it was all gone and he was smoking a cigarette, his eyes half lidded, his head nodding to the side. He would jump awake, inhale on the cigarette and nod out again. He was just resting his eyes, he told himself.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s in your driveway. He sits up straighter, seeing that it was still dark outside. How the fuck did I get here? He pushes the front door open and practically falls out. He holds his head, the sudden pressure from getting up too fast making him dizzy as he stumbles onto your front porch, pushing your door open. He calls your name, but you don’t answer. He notices the stillness as he stood there, noticing all the lights were off, there was no sound. He suddenly felt sober, and his feet take him to the center of your living room. The light from the bathroom came through the door that was ajar, and all he hears is the sound of his own breathing and his footfalls.

He pushes the door open slowly with his palm, the hinges squeaking, and he sees you lying there. You’re on your back, your head tilted to one side, arms splayed out, unmoving.

A groan escapes him, a sound that started from the very depths of his soul. His body falls against the door, and he falls to his knees. His body felt stiff as he crawled to you, hot, angry tears were pooling from his eyes.

“Nooo…” He groans, his hand shaking as he turns your face, your eyes in a fixed stare. He inhales deeply, cupping your face. You just have to kiss her, and she’ll wake up. That’s all, like Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.

Eddie kisses your lips gently, his tears falling to your cheeks, and he lifts his head. You still lay there unmoving, no breath from your lips. His mouth falls open in a gasp as he looks at you, and his body shakes with sobs. He stares at your face, he couldn’t understand what was happening, why this was happening.

“Please come back to me, please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything I said, please.” He cups your face, smoothing back your hair; you were so cold. “Just wake up now, and we can start over, that’s all. Just wake up…please!!!” He cries and cradles your limp body to him, trying to figure out something, anything that will get you to wake up. He kisses your cheeks, your hair, your forehead.

His head falls back, and a loud, guttural wail escapes his lungs. “Nooooooo!!!”

“Nooooo!” Eddie screams himself awake. The sun was beating down on him in the van as he catches his breath, looking around, panic and fright in his wide brown eyes. He was still parked at the pond. He feels bile rise in his throat and barely gets the door open before he’s violently vomiting on the ground. His vomit from the night before inches from where he stood. He wipes his mouth, his skin sweaty, damp. He squints in the sunlight and holds his stomach. He was still high, but functional, his logical part of his brain working faster than it did last night.

“Fucking idiot, Munson.” He says to himself, and then he remembers his dream. A breath is caught in his throat, and he scrambles himself back in the van, he starts it up, throwing it into reverse and speeds out of there. He was dry heaving on the way to your house, having to stop only once to pull over and vomit again.

He almost forgets to put the van into park when he screeches into your driveway. He almost falls out and scrambles up the steps, your door was unlocked. He doesn’t bother closing it when he runs in and shouts your name. His blood ran cold when he didn’t get a response from you, and he screams your name again. He runs into the living room, his breath caught when he sees that the bathroom door is ajar like in his dream. His heart pounded and he felt his hands shake: it was just a dream, it wasn’t real. Just a dream.

The door squeaks open, and you walk out, towel drying your hair from taking a long hot shower. A whimper escapes his lungs, and he startles you.

The towel falls from your hands as you stare at him and he stares at you, he’s looking at you like he’s seeing a ghost. You immediately notice his features, his pale face, his eyes wide with panic, almost black. He was sweaty, and your hand goes to your mouth to hold back your cry, you knew immediately what he had done and part of you felt responsible.

There was desperation on both of your faces, and the two of you crash into each other, sobbing and holding each other. Eddie holds your face in his hands, kissing you over and over, his tears mixing with yours.

“You’re here.” He kept saying and you weren’t sure why. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He cries holding your face and you shake your head, sputtering, you can feel your face flush as you caress his face, his hair, staring into his eyes.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have had you leave. I didn’t do the rest of the drugs, I got rid of them, I flushed them. I didn’t do them, I swear.” Panic is in your voice, and he holds onto your waist tightly as you keep touching him, keeping him upright.

Eddie feels his heart split in two and feels the guilt bubbling up in his chest as his head falls to your shoulder and he sobs. You hold him there, rubbing the back of his head as you both sobbed. “I fucked up last night, I’m so sorry. But I needed to not feel anything. I thought it didn’t matter, I thought I lost you forever and I couldn’t…couldn’t handle losing another person, I couldn’t handle that pain. There’s so much of it and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

You pull away and hold his face, shaking your head as you give him a small smile. “We have to feel it, I realized that after you left last night. That’s one of the only ways that lets us know that she was real, that the pain is real; that our love is real.”

“How do you not hate me?” His lip trembles. “After everything I said, after what I did.”

“Because I love you. No matter what and that’s a hard fucking pill to swallow when you realize how much you love a person, even when you’re so fucking angry at them.”

You run your thumb along his lips, and he smiles softly. “When you left last night, I wanted to die. I was awful to you, I pushed you away because I thought your life would be a lot less chaotic without me in it. And then…” You inhale deeply, your voice shaking. “Then I felt her. I felt this warmth, this blanket of pure comfort and I just let it consume me. Everything poured out, I thought my guts were gonna shut down and I would be stuck in a loop of constant tears forever, but I let her in, and she stayed awhile.”

Eddie laughs a little as tears continue to fall from his eyes, he caresses your face, your hair and kisses you softly. “I love you.” He whispers to you.

“I know.” You smirk up at him, wiping away his tears.

He kisses you again, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, letting out a sigh of relief. You hold him tight, rubbing his back and arms.

He takes a shower soon afterwards; scrubbing the last night away until his skin felt raw, and he swore he rubbed off most of his chest tattoos. He finds you in your room, and he walks in with no shirt, and just his jeans. His wet curly hair stuck to his chest. You’re sitting upright, sketching in what looks like your mother's sketch pad.

He sits on the edge of your bed, glancing down at the book. “You’re sketching?”

You look up at him and smile; you were just doodling. Some wildflowers, eye shapes, your hands. You didn’t feel ready to paint yet, and you forgot how much you loved to sketch. You couldn’t force yourself to be happy, but you could try to be a bit more human.

You feel his eyes on you and look up again. He’s smiling that sweet smile, his dimples large. He still looked a little high, but he was less sweaty, less jumpy. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to feel once it was completely out of his system. Would it hurt? He wondered. But he realized he didn’t care if it did, he deserved to feel that pain.

You close the sketch pad and put it on your nightstand, you scoot closer to him, you drape your legs on either side of him while he kneeled. His hand reaches up to caress your face, your lips, and you pull his mouth towards yours in a sweet kiss. You lay back, taking him with you, he cups your face, his other hand going to your leg to hook around his waist, the kiss deepening. His lips travel to your throat, leaving a soft trail of kisses there and to the center of your chest. You sigh lovingly at his touch, and he lifts up your shirt, leaving soft kisses on your tummy, around your navel and ribs. He feels you shudder at his touch, and he pulls you up, peeling your shirt over your head. You were naked underneath, and he kisses you again. The tips of his fingers glide up your arm, leaving goosebumps to prickle on your skin. You grip his forearm, and gently move your fingers up and down as he kisses your neck, slowly moving down, leaving soft kisses around your breasts, and taking your nipple into his mouth, gently sucking. Your back arches and you moan; he goes to your other breast, gently kissing and sucking. His hand travels down your belly while he teases your nipples, and he snaps the button of your jeans. He meets your lips passionately again, grunting softly as his hand slides down over your sex and fingers your clit generously. You arch your hips, and he pulls off your jeans and underwear. He hovers above you after taking off his own jeans and rubs your face. He leans down to kiss you, his lips soft. You let out a moan and he grunts when you feel him push himself inside you, your back arches at the feeling, a loving sigh escaping your lips. His mouth stays hovered above yours as he thrusts, and you look into his eyes. His fingertips dig gently into your thighs and a throaty moan escapes his lips. He caresses your face, kissing your lips softly, burying his face in your chest, licking around your nipple again. You grip his shoulders, moaning loud, the sensation of his gentleness, the grinding of his hips, was enough to get you to scream. Your orgasm was building in your lower belly, but you didn’t want this feeling to end. You held onto it, and flipped him onto his back, riding him gently, your palms on his chest. Your clit rubs against his pelvis, and your head falls back in a whimper. He holds your hips, his head arching back against the pillow. He sits up, holding him to you in the butterfly position, his arms tightly around your middle, his lips against your breast. The tingles in your belly grow, and you clench around him, your head falls back as you cry out in pleasure, your orgasm causing every part of your body to tremble, and tears spring to your eyes. He groans against you as he orgasms soon after you, he holds you to him, still catching up on your breathing and you look into his eyes. His hand caresses your cheek, and he kisses you gently. You push yourself off him so you’re sitting more in his lap, pressing your forehead against his and he hugs your waist.

Staring into his big brown eyes, you give him a soft smile, gently petting his face. “From now on, we need to be honest with each other. No more secrets.”

He shakes his head, smiling at you. “No more secrets.”

“I’m not okay, Eddie.” You tell him quietly, your eyes filling up with tears, he tightens his hold. “And I won’t be for a long time. When she died…I think, I think a part of me did too. That’s where that pain is.” You press your hand over your heart, and he gently kisses the center of your chest. “They say there’s stages of this grief, but I think they’re full of shit. I think you go through each stage, over and over and over again. It’s constant, like a running stream. And I know you’re not okay, either. You were right when you said that I’m not the only one who lost her—”

“Sweetheart, that was—”

“Let me finish.” You smile at him, kissing his nose and he stares into your eyes. “I’m not the only one that lost her. Yeah, I lost the bond that we formed as soon as I was born, I lost the late-night talks and getting my tears wiped away because she was my mother. You lost someone very special to you, someone who showed you love and comfort and a bond that can be so rare to find. I will never take that away from you. Your grief is your grief, not mine. But we can heal together. It's not gonna be easy, it’s gonna be really fucking hard but I plan on doing this with you for the rest of my life. I plan on feeling every single emotion that God or whoever the fuck throws at me, at us. I plan on you being by my side until we’re old, watching our grandchildren grow up, yelling at each other on how to figure out technology because let’s face it, this world is going to be run by machines soon. You are the best thing, the craziest thing, that has ever happened to me, and I’m gonna hold onto that until I can’t anymore.”

His eyes are filled with tears, and he smiles large, kissing you passionately. You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek before getting off his lap. He lights up a cigarette, inhaling it deeply and stretches. He looks at you with his arm draped over his shoulder, just watching you. He stands up to get dressed but you stop him.

“Wait.” You tell him, grabbing your sketch book. “Stay like that."

"What? Why?” He laughs.

“Shut up, don’t move.”

He smiles at you and stays still, and you begin to sketch out his form. Eddie suddenly felt shy as he hears your pencil hit the paper, this was such an intimate moment, and he didn’t want to mess it up. You concentrated so hard on what you were doing, and he felt his heart skip a few beats as he watches you, both nude, just the sounds of the creativity coming out of your brain.

You smiled when you were finished, and Eddie was able to move his limbs, feeling stiff all over. You wipe off the pencil dust and hand it to him. He smiles large, you had captured him so beautifully and he realizes it was true, you saw him for who he truly was.

Just Eddie.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Autumn had come out of nowhere, and you wrap your sweater tighter around you as another wave of nausea hits you. You had left work early; it seemed like every twenty minutes you were running to the bathroom to puke your guts out. You tried to think about what you had eaten the night before; was it the chicken? Was it the leftover meatloaf you had made for your father’s birthday? Eddie had been very cryptic lately, and it was starting to piss you off. He would ask you questions about what color paint you’d use to paint a kitchen, hardwood or carpet; you would overhear him talking to your father about stuff that had to do with finances, and your father had a glint in his eyes, and you tried to think of anything that could possibly make sense. The nausea hits you again and you run to the bathroom and vomit hard. You swore there was nothing left in your system to vomit but your body had other plans. You lean against the tub, the coolness of the porcelain an odd comfort against your skin.

Your eyes land on an unopened box of tampons, and a sudden thought occurred to you. Closing your eyes, you think back to when you last had your period; trying to figure out the math was like trying to figure out a formula with Einstein. Your eyes snap open; it had been over a month since your last period.

A month.

Nausea hits you again and you grip the porcelain, preparing for the worst but nothing comes. “There’s no way.” You say to yourself and lift yourself up on shaky legs.

Grabbing your keys, you rush out the door to your car, and go into a local pharmacy. You take the first test you see, and don’t make eye contact with the cashier as she rings you up. When you arrived home, you were grateful Eddie was still at work, and your father was finishing up a construction job in Ohio. You rip open the test, reading the directions.

“Pee on it? How the fuck…” Your eyes squint as you look at the small diagram drawing of how to get coat the test in urine. Groaning, you pull down your pants, and do your business, yelling comedically as you get urine all over your hand trying to match the test up with the stream. The directions said you had to wait three minutes for the results, and you sit on the toilet lid, your leg bopping up and down anxiously as you wait.

Once the three minutes was up, you don’t look right away. Your arm reaches the sink counter, and you take it, looking down at the tiny window. There were two lines, and you suddenly forgot what that meant. You scramble to dig the directions out of the trash, scanning the black ink until you reach the result section.

One line meant it was negative.

Two lines meant…

Your hands shake as you stare at the test in your hand, like it was a rare piece of art, and you were trying desperately to see if the picture would move.

No matter how you look at it, the result is gonna stay the same.

A smile creeps up on your lips, tears well in your eyes and you cover your mouth with your hand.

Something happens to you just now; it felt like the Earth shifted right at your feet. Before there was a constant tilt for so many months, now suddenly it was upright. Everything seemed brighter, you felt a dull ache in your chest, but it wasn’t pain, no, it was something different.

Something warm.

There was a human being growing inside you. Yours and Eddie’s baby. Your father’s grandchild, your mother’s grandchild. Yours. A being that had a part of you and a part of the man you loved. Your best friend, your lover, your confidant.

You were going to be parents.

You were going to be a mother.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fem!reader

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dwarvenbash · 9 months ago

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"I don't think it's nice, you laughin'. You see, my Krootox don't like people laughin'. Gets the crazy idea you're laughin' at him. Now if you apologize like I know you're going to, I might convince him that you really didn't mean it..."

The Kroot with No Name

My favorite operative in my Farstalker Kinband Killteam, the Kroot Pistolier (I prefer "Gunslinger" though, it's easier to say, too!) is such an awesome piece that can do some close-range burst damage AND can even get a shot off on a quick draw!

Free-handing the iconic poncho design was definitely a challenge, when you really look at it the pattern is pretty darn complex!

More on the process under the cut:

I've always been a huge fan of the Kroot, so when their Killteam was announced a couple years back I was over the moon with excitement. I'm still in disbelief that they're actually going for an entire Kroot-focused detachment in 40k though; when that box is finally released I'm totally screwed. Anyway, when I picked these bad boys up initially, I had to put them all together in time for a Killteam Spec-Ops narrative campaign I was doing in a couple days, but I saw these two models in the instructions and my conversion-obsessed brain was already off to the races:

The poncho on the Warrior was straight out of a Spaghetti Western, and luckily for me, the Pistolier's arm bits fit almost perfectly (with a little greenstuff filling). If I was going to go full-on Western, though, the hardest part was definitely making a convincing-looking hat.

I toyed with a couple different methods, but the most doable seemed to be sculpting a greenstuff "crown" onto a flat "brim" piece. The problem was finding a good material to make the "brim", though. In the end, I settled on using one of these:

The humble milk carton pull tab! With some (somewhat) careful pruning, the thickness of these things make for a pretty believable hat brim at this scale. With a couple rings from a jeweler's chain because I had to throw in the Gun X Sword reference to accent the hat, it was done! I wouldn't finish painting the poor guy until wayyy later, but I got some fancy shaded priming done in time for the campaign, at the very least...

Thanks for reading! If I can get my workspace in order hopefully I'll be able to post more painted models, since they're more fun to look at and write about. I need a lot more practice painting, too, so hopefully this blog can help me feel like I'm progressing in my painting ability the more I post on it.

I definitely want to write more on here about the Kroot, too, since they're one of my favorite aspects of 40k! Expect some more on them when I get around to taking some pictures of one of the bigger Kroot conversions that got me into the hobby.

Next time though, I think I'll divulge a bit from the mainstream Games Workshop beat and write about some cool miniatures you may have never heard of!

#okay time to figure out how I'm going to tag this #warhammer #warhammer 40k #kitbash #mini painting #scifi #? i guess #and most importantly #the good the bad and the ugly #i mean hungry #did i seriously forget to tag this as #kroot #too

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campbyler · 10 months ago

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BHDSDNSJDBKSJDK S OMFG OMFG I GIGGLED LIKE A MANIAC LIKE THE WHOLE TIME I WAS READING HOLY SHIT AHHHHHHHHHH THEY ARE SUCH STUPID IN LOVE IDIOTS "yes youre obsessed with me" HOLY SHIT THE SASS OH MY GODDDDDD I WAS LIKE WHAT IS HAPPENING IS MIKE TAKING HIM ON A DATE HOLY SHIT AND THEN HE WAS BUT I DONT THINK WILL KNOWS IT WAS A DATE SBDSKNKJS THE COOL COOL MOMENT SDBSHD JS BSFHBSJDBS WILL LIKES HOW MIKE DRIVES OMFGG THEY LIKE HOLDING EACH OTHERS HANDS IM LITERALLY GONNA START SQUEALING okay mike is so real for his oshawatt pin on his fanny pack also ngl i kinda forgor that will works at starbucks but also like of course he does i feel like thats just a fact that everyone should know OMFGGG THEY ARE BOTH THE MOST CLINGY BITCHES EVER NHJSBUBHJWSBJ "engaging in behavior usually reserved for amusement park queues" HELP WHEN I TELL YOU I WAS TRYING NOT TO LAUGH OUT LOUD SO BADLY THAT I GOT LIGHTHEADED AND ALMOST FELL OUT OF MY BED I AM NOT FUCKING KIDDING I WAS OUT OF BREATH AND WHEEZING FOR LIKE FIVE MINUTES AND HAD TO TAKE A BREAK FROM READING NHJBSHBDKS THEY ARE SO FUCKING CLINGY OH MY GOD the vulnerablility 🥺🥺 they are being do soft with each other 🥺🥺 mike is finally opening up 🥺🥺🥺🥺 i love his car shopping list and his reasons 🥺🥺🥺🥺 also jesus FUCKING christ ted is fucking crazy that makes me so angry that he would do that and that it made such a lasting impact on mike that all those years later he would be worried about that happening to him its not okay OMFG OF COURSE HIS PASSWORD IS KERMIT HE IS SO SILLY NSDSHBDSB BESBDNSNDDNKJSNDB HES GONNA TEACH WILL HOW TO DRIVE HIS CAR OMFG OMFG OMFG THAT IS PROBABLY SO INTIMATE FOR HIM TOO BECAUSE THE CAR IS SUPPOSED TO BE HIS BECAUSE NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO DRIVE HIS CAR AND NOW HES TEACHING WILL HOW TO DRIVE HIS CAR JUST SBHSBDKSNDIJNSFS

you fr knocked this one out of the fucking park thea like full on grand slam, everyone made it to home and the ball went so far we couldnt even see where it landed i am very thankful that you guys take the time to write these chapters so well anyway happy holidays 🫶 (and merry july in christmas lmao)

AHHHH OMGGGGG SUCH A LENGTHY REACTION I HAVE BEEN SO BLESSED!! LET ME TRY TO RESPOND PROPERLY (picture me cracking my knuckles without cracking them ty)

i am loving this play by play of everything!! i do need u to know that this has been Exactly what my brain has been doing on overdrive since likeeeee. february or march when we first drafted the concept for ch9 😭😭😭 i loveeeeed including the detail of mike's fanny pack and it's def most of the reason why i really want to draw their outfits!! i think will's starbucks job has either only been mentioned once or has only been mentioned on this blog, but it's a very important part of the universe #2 #me 💚 ALSO HELLLOOO I HOPE YOU ARE ALIVE AND OK AFTER ALMOST FALLING OUT OF YOUR BED???

i will sayyyy the ted story was definitely a bit of projection teehee (thanks #mom) but i did think it fit superrr well and was a really strong reason for why owning the car would be so important to him! i was so excited to be able to have him open up this chapter as well :')

i did have to debate between using snoopy and kermit for mike's passcode but kermit won out!! also YESSSS U ARE HITTING THE NAIL ON THE HEAAADDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!

ty so so so MUCHHH for your kind words and huge reaction, i'm so glad you enjoyed!! happy holidays and merry christmas in july!!!

#asks #ch09 #acswy spoilers #i keep saying YOU'VE HEARD OF CHRISTMAS IN JULY NOW GET READY FOR JULY IN CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!

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redrydersrequiem · 1 year ago

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Wandering canary

Heyyyyyy first one piece fic, love the show and glad its doing so well, the oc character is about 32 to be closer to shanks and buggy’s ages this will be a buggy x reader fic because like so many others i love Jeff ward and his portrayal of buggy was “chefs kiss”

The strawhat crew finally landed on a seemingly normal island.( For once.) Finally able to restock their dwindling supplies and stretch their sea legs.

“Finally land!” Nami states pop in her back and relishes the feel of solid steady ground under her feet. “That storm was crazy, we're lucky we made it here.”

“Yeah it's nice to finally be somewhere that looks seemingly safe.” Usopp says looking around at the nice port and colorful looking town.

“Yeah, think of the new local ingredients we can find around here or all the beautiful island women just waiting for a dashing chief like myself to come along.” Sanji says straightening his tie about to walk further on the pier however he's almost pushed into the water by Zoro's yawning form, walking off the ship

“I'm ready for a nap, huuuuh”

“Damit zoro watch where you're going.”

“What was that waiter”

“Why you broccoli headed piece of”

Before the two can argue further luffy plows through them effectively pushing them into the dock below.

“Ohhhhhh I can’t wait any more, come on guys lets gooooooo.!”

Luffy wait nami call out but it's too late the captain of the going merry is off dust trailing behind him as the crew all quickly try to catch up before luffy accidentally destroys something

A short time later the merry was restocked and no threats were found (or had been created) so the crew decided to treat themselves to a night out.

The local bar was nice, not as nice as the Baratie but not run down either. Drinks and food flow, the crew having a grand time when a spotlight turns on illuminating the bars stage. Everyone claps as a person the crew assumes is the owner based on how nicely the old woman is dressed steps forward.

“And now for the event of the night, our very own wandering songbird, ms Canary.”

The room erupts in applause and cheers. The straw hats all look on expectantly slightly apprehensive of all the clapping after the last time the. Had to endure a spotlight and clapping, except for luffy he was full on cheering with everyone else.

The curtain opens and a woman dressed in shimmering jewel tones, coins and bells added to the hems of her skirts to make them jingle, she stands in the middle of the stage a tambourine in her hand posed for the music to start. But its not her outfit or pose that draws the straw hats' eyes. No, it's her blood red hair.

“Hey! Her hair looks just like shanks.” Luffy points nami quickly shushing him and lowering his pointed hand as the music starts.

*Think this outfit but of course character is not Esmeralda

Canary’s pov

* I changed some of the songs lyrics

{ rhythm of the tambourine starts playing}

The music starts and I begin my first movement. My tambourine mirroring my movements perfectly in time,

Hey, soldier boy, I see how you stare

Hey, fisher man, I see you admire

Come gather 'round

Hey, Jack and Pierre!

Come see me dance to the rhythm of the tambourine

Flash of ankle

Flip of a skirt

Feel them excite, enflame and inspire

Come see me dance, hey, what can it hurt?

It's just a dance to the rhythm of the tambourine

The regulars are all in the front row while those from out of town have sprinkled around the bar. One table is filled with younger ones all maybe 16/17 to 20ish years old all smiling at the performance, they definitely look out of place amongst all the Old beer gutted or wind beat sailors and fisherman of the island, but its the youngest looking one that makes me pause, or more specifically the hat on his head.

Memories resurface quickly. The call of my name comes from a fuzzy figure in front of me. I can’t make out any of their features besides their red hair and the straw hat on his head. The sound of someone yelling wait up idiot comes from beside me as blue infiltrates my vision. Their faces and voices are still blurry but hey at least I remembered something. I quickly shake my head and move back into my dance trying to appear normal

Straw hats pov

As she dances around the room coming to stand in front of. The table her eyes taking us all in with a smile on her face till she sees luffy. That’s when she freezes. A confused and distant expression crosses her face quickly, but as soon as it appears it disappears, the woman quickly regaining momentum and spins back into her dance. The straw hats all (besides luffy) silently look at one another making sure they all notice the pause. The music comes to an end, the woman exiting as a band replaces her now playing soft bar music, as everyone goes back to eating and drinking. The straw hats finish and decide to head out.

“Ahhhh that was amazing” luffy laughs rubbing his engorged belly.

“Agreed but did you see that woman's face when she saw luffy.?” Nami asks the group

“yeah she like froze or something” usopp adds

“Wait what?” Luffy asks

"Yeah when she was near our table did you really not notice luffy?” Sanji asks

“Yeah it was weird. How she,” but before Zoro can get out the rest of his sentence a yell of wait cuts him off. The crew all turn towards the voice to find the women now wearing a normal outfit jogging towards them.

“Please wait” canary says catching her breath

“How can we help you, miss?” Sanji Asks ever the gentlemen.

“Um, I'm sorry to bother you all but I was hoping I could speak to you, privately if possible.?”

The crew all look at each other before luffy interrupts and gladly invites the lady to the ship happily dragging her along the rest of the crew following

Canary’s pov

Night had fallen and the kitchen is filled with warmth, tea and snacks being handed out as the crew settles into listen to my story

“To start thank you for not thinking I’m insane, and let me formally introduce myself my names canary”

“Nice to meet you, canary. I'm monkey D Luffy and this is my crew.” The energetic brunette stats arms wide as he gestures to the others each one going down the line to introduce themselves

“Canary huh, got a last name to go with that?”, the green haired boy named Zoro asks.

“I don't actually that's kind of part of the reason I wished to speak to all of you.

“Zoro dont be rude go ahead ma’am start at the beginning”. Sanji scoulds Zoro before turning back to me

“Can you tell us why you need to speak to Luffy so badly?” Nami asks

“I know this is a strange question but none of you would happen to recognize me would you?”

The crew all look at eachother once more before all answering no.

“I should have known better.”

“Why do you ask?” Luffy asks now, invested in my story.

“Well about twenty years ago I was found on a beach after a storm. Some of the villagers nearby found me, treated my wounds and took me in.” I move my hair to show the kids the scar on my temple. “ I don't have any memories from before the storm but sometimes i get flashes of the past and one of them was a red haired boy wearing that hat.”

“That has to be shanks! Luffy says so excitedly, his whole being lighting up at the mention of this Shanks person.

“Shanks”

“Yeah hes the best,hes the one who made me want to be a pirate, hes also the one who gave me this hat.

“Really! then he could possibly know who i am.

“I mean yeah probably. He never forgets a face”

“Do you know where he is now or how to get ahold of him?”

“No unfortunetly, I haven’t really seen shanks in a little while. Hes out there sailing the grand line like us.”

Oh, is all i can get out a immense sense of sadness overcoming me at the possibility of knowing who i am is snubbed right in front of me

Strawhats pov

Looking at canary’s face luffy can help but to think of how to help her.

“Oh hey! I have an idea. why dont you join my crew?”

Everyone’s heads turn eyes going wide as they stare at the rubber boy.

“Really?” Canary asks the young kid

“Yeah any friend of shanks is a friend of mine besides were bound to run into him eventually i know it.”

Before canary can speak Zoro interrupts the over enthusiastic boy

“Luffy the grand line isnt a place for just anyone to travel around its dangerous especially for someone who’s just an entertainer no offense canary”

“I’ll try not to be but I will correct you and say I'm not just an entertainer. I happen to be a petty good sailer and im a marksmen, i'm not exactly defenseless” canary says pulling out the mini Gatling gun on her thigh

“Wow that's cool you know how to use that

“I do i even make my own ammo and everything, I can use a sword too but I'm not really an up close fighter unless I have to be.

“I want to see, I want to see” luffy cheers.

“I would be happy to show you all my skills if that would ease your minds, and besides I’ve traveled a lot looking for where I came from, and I've made friends at every island I’ve visited I can help you get around the grand line, help navigate which islands to go to and which to avoid.”

“Well guys i don't know about you all. But a beautiful talented woman is always welcome to travel with me,”Sanji says with a stricken look on his face as he gazes at Canary.

“I wouldn’t mind having another female around to Be honest.” Nami says wistfully.

“Hey im always for new friends” usopp joins. Everyone turns to Zoro the first mate being the final decider

“If she can actually defend herself and keep up then she’s fine by me”

“ALRIGHT!!!!” Ms canary welcome to the going merry.”

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece fluff #shanks x sister #shanks x reader #buggy x reader #buggy the clown #opla buggy #opla x reader

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munsonownsmyass · 1 year ago

Text

Matt Murdock x tattoo artist reader

Summary: Finally working at the place of your dreams, you get the hardest client of your career.

Notes: When I read The Sweetest Pain (and part two) from @e-dubbc11 it sparked something in me. So I really wanted to make a little piece too. This one takes place in Billy's shop and the stories are intertwined, but can be read separately.

Warning: None. Just some flirting, pining and yearning for hot Matt. What?! So no spice in 3.8K words?! No, sorry. But there will be in part two (if anyone wants a part two, that is 😅)

Words: 3.8K

Standing outside the Anvil Tattoo Shop, you take a deep breath. For longer than you remember, you’ve wanted to be a tattoo artist. For years, you’ve practiced and been working in small, sleezy parlors, anything to get some experience. It had all been leading up to this. Hopefully a place at one of the finest shops you’ve seen.

Whenever you’ve walked past, you’ve been dreaming about working here. The owner, Billy and his employees are immaculate in their work, truly amazing and you want to be part of their team. With another deep breath, you pull yourself together and walk through the doors.

It’s still early, so there’s only three guys there. Billy you recognize instantly, but the other two you haven’t seen before. They all raise their gaze as you walk up to the counter.

“What can I do for you?” Billy asks, looking up from his sketch.

“I was hoping to get a job. I… I love your shop and admire your work so much and I want to be just as great as you some day, so-“ You stop, mentally scolding yourself over how awkward you are. Word vomit as if you’re some crazy fan. Hugging your folder full of your drawings and tattoos, you look to the men before you. “Sorry. I just-”

“Let me see.” Billy gestures to the folder and you hand it to him, hoping it’s good enough to land you a spot in his shop. “Why do you want to be a tattoo artist?”

“Because I’ve been through so much shit in my life and I’ve only ever felt happy when I draw… Or get a tattoo.” You chuckle softly, looking at Billy as he goes through your stuff. “Getting a tattoo is pain, but it’s a pain you control. It’s therapeutic. So whether I’m the one wielding the needle or getting a new piece on my skin, it’s like therapy. It’s something I can control.”

Billy stops and look at you, his eyes looking you over. You see in his eyes that he gets it, that he too have been through some shit in his life. And maybe that’s why no more than 10 minutes later you’ve signed a contract to work at Anvil Tattoo Shop.

The first few days go by so fast. You get your own space and some new gear, watching as Billy works. One of his buddies, Frank, lets you do a little piece on him so they can see how you work. Billy looks over your shoulder at the little skull you’re tattooing onto Frank’s chest.

“Your linework is amazing. You’re already on your way to being a great artist, Shortcake.” Billy rubs your back softly before he walks back to his own station. You blush, thinking this is probably the best day ever in your life so far.

“Easy there, kiddo. Billy is taken.” Frank whispers with a smile, looking at your flushed cheeks. You just laugh, before putting the needle back to Frank's skin.

“Oh, don’t worry. He’s not my type.”

You could swear you hear Frank's heart stop for a second. You just grin, dipping the needle again, before tattooing again. “Okay, he is hot. Even a blind person could see that, but… I dunno, just not what I’m looking for.”

“I’ve never heard anyone say that before.” Frank chuckles, looking over at Billy. “I’m gonna rub that in his face.”

“Oh, I believe you.” You both grin as you finish up your work.

You’ve been there for almost a week now, when a new client walks in. Billy had already said that the next one through the doors would be yours and you’ve been sitting on the edge of your seat all morning. But your mood falters when you see his cane and glasses.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but this is a tattoo shop, just in case you didn’t see it. Fuck, I mean-” You bite your tongue, ready to bury yourself in a hole. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He chuckles, showing off a beautiful smile that leaves you weak in the knees.

“My brain stops working around hot guys.” You chuckle, but then shake your head, wishing the earth would just swallow you whole at this point. So fucking embarrassing. “Fuck. I’m sorry. Again. Look, I can get another artist for you.”

“I think you’ll be just fine.” He chuckles. Lucky for you, he seems to find your awkwardness adorable. You look to Billy, silently asking if it’s okay or if he’d rather pull you from this client, but all you see is him and Frank trying not to laugh.

“Okay, good. So what can we do for you today?”

“A tattoo would be nice.” He grins playfully and you hate the way you react to it.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place then.” You bite your lip, hating the fact that your first real client is this hunk of a man and not just some random girl. You really don’t want to make a fool of yourself but it seems like that ship has already sailed. “Right, if you come with me, we can discuss the design.”

“Would you mind?” He extends his arm for you to take, so you do, guiding him to a little desk where he can sit while you draw.

“Looks like we know what her type is now.” Frank whispers, making Billy break. They both laugh and you flip them off, making a mental note to kick their asses later.

“Hey Frank.” The man says, smiling in Frank's direction.

“Hey there Red. Didn’t picture you as a tattoo guy.”

“I’m full of surprises.” He smirks and you sense there’s some kind of inside joke between the men, especially when you see the way Frank just smiles, before he turns back towards Billy.

“So, uhm…”

“Matt.”

“Matt.” You say softly, thankful he is blind and can’t see the heavy blush on your cheeks or the way your eyes study his face. He is really handsome and you're instantly drawn to his lips. Really beautiful lips. This is bad. You should focus.

“What type of tattoo were you looking to get?” You question, but you’re not even sure you hear the answer. Something something catholic. Look at that jawline. And that scruff. Wonder how he’d look with a full beard?

“Okay, good good.” You cough, scribbling something down on paper. Matt laughs, placing one of his hands on your arm.

“You want me to repeat it?” He smirks. Shit. He knows. Of course he knows. He probably has this effect on every woman he meets.

“Yeah, that would be nice. Just so I’m sure we agree.” You say, this time really listening to him. You love the idea he has, already doing a little sketch as you talk. It’s a typical catholic tattoo, a cross, rosary and a text, but you’re determined to make this great and special.

Soon you’ve done talking, already have a time booked and an outline to work with. As Matt leaves the shop, you sigh at the counter, not being able to think about anything else than what color his eyes might be. Frank and Billy come up on either side of you, both with shiteating grins.

“You want me to help with the sketch? I think I paid more attention than you did.” Billy grins and Frank cracks up.

“Fuck off. Fuck all the way off.” You flip them the finger before walking back to your desk. This was probably going to be the hardest job in your career.

When Matt returns a few days later for his first appointment, you’re nervous. Not just because you’re going to be so close to the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, but also because you want to do a good job. You want to do Billy proud and Matt trusts you. He’s put more trust in you than anyone before. You’ve thought about it, him not being able to even know what you’re putting on his skin. So you’ve done something you never thought you’d do.

With help from an old artistic friend, you’ve managed to make a sketch he can feel. Each line is raised from the paper, almost like braille. You know he probably can’t make out everything, but at least it’s something. You slide the sketch over to Matt and watch as his fingers touch the paper.

“I know it’s not perfect, but I hope you can feel some of it.” You bite your bottom lip nervously, studying his face. He smiles as his fingers dance over the sketch and you see the surprise on his face when he reaches the text, made in braille. You already had another sketch with the actual text, this one was just for Matt.

“You-” He looks up, his eyes almost finding yours as he searches for the right words to say. “This is incredible. Thank you. You didn’t have to do all that for me.”

“Yeah, well… I know how much a tattoo can mean to a person and it’s something you’re gonna have with you forever, so… wanted you to know what I made for you.” You shrug, blushing again when you see the smile on Matt’s face.

“It’s perfect. And the most thoughtful thing anyone has done for me.” His hand lands on yours, giving it a soft squeeze. “So thank you. Well, should we get started then?”

“I’m ready when you are. Just let me prepare the stencil.”

You lead him to the chair before walking over to get the stencil ready. You hear Billy and Andy snicker softly, but you try to ignore them. But when you turn around, you stop dead in your tracks. There he is, shirtless. His body is beyond what you could even conjure up in your mind, muscular and hard. So hard.

You’re not a believer, but you almost feel like thanking God for bestowing Matt and his perfect body upon you. You praise yourself lucky he wants the tattoo on his back, cause if he had faced you, you’d never get it done.

After everything is prepped and Matt is ready, you start. He doesn’t even flinch as the needle pierces the skin.

“Just tell me if it hurts and you need a break. It is a big piece for a first tattoo.”

“I’m used to pain.” He smiles over his shoulder before laying down again and you continue your work. Billy walks over every now and then, complimenting your work. You’re happy for the praise, you really are, but you barely notice him, all your attention on Matt. How he breathes softly as you work, a small sigh or groan if you hit a sensitive spot.

“You have a very gentle touch.” He says at one point and you almost combust, thoughts about how you wish you could have your hands on Matt in a not so gentle manner. But you just bite your lip, trying not to say anything.

“You making Matt feel good over there, Shortcake?” Billy teases and you just shoot him a grin, shaking your head.

“Are you jealous?” You ask, making sure to look him in the eyes as you dip your needle. “I can do you once I’m done with Matt.”

“Oh, you got a deal.” He grins and you turn your attention back to Matt. It was all just for fun, both because he was your boss and he had a girl. But you enjoyed the playful banter and flirting.

All too soon you’re done with the first session and clean up Matt’s tattoo. You’re really proud of it so far and you make sure to tell Matt all about it, trying to give him a mental image of how it looks. At the counter, as you make his next appointment, he leans in close.

“So you and Billy… Are you dating?”

“What? No!” You say a little too loud, causing Andy to chuckle as Billy feign being hurt. You mouth a sorry before looking at Matt again. “No, we’re not. I’m single. Very single.”

“Good to know.” He gives you another one of his radiant smiles, before taking the card with the time of his next appointment. At the door he pauses. “So. How am I supposed to care for this when it’s on my back?”

“Oh, uhm… Maybe a friend… or your girlfriend can help you?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend. I’m very single too.” With a grin, he leaves the shop and you don’t even try to hide the grin on your face. He’s cute, single and you’re pretty sure he just maybe a subtle, but lewd suggestion. Oh, you’re definitely in trouble.

The next few days you try to forget about your hot client and luckily, Billy has some clients come in with wishes that match your style. So you emerge yourself in work, trying to make the days go faster.

When you walk into work, everyone else is already busy with clients. You greet them and see Billy’s girl is in for her second session. You’ve been dying to meet her, so you walk over. But before you say hi, her beautiful tattoo steals your attention. Billy’s work is always beautiful, but this octopus is something else. You lean in close to really see all the fine details, putting your hand on Billy’s shoulder very carefully.

“Wow! Billy, that’s incredible.” You say with a big smile.

“Thanks…” He pauses and looks up at you. “Shortcake, this is my sweet girl. Baby, this is my new artist, Shortcake.”

She extends her hand and you shake it, noticing the beautiful rose tattooed on the back of her hand. “Hi there. It’s nice to meet you.”

You could see what Billy saw in her. Beautiful and she seemed kind. And she did have very good taste in tattoos, so you already knew you’d like her too.

“Oh jeez, I should have recognized you from your pictures. Why didn’t you tell me she was coming in today, Billy?! It’s nice to meet you too.” You say, genuinely happy to finally meet her.

Sitting down at your station, you pull out some sketches for tonight’s client. “Wish I’d known she came though, so I could have made a better impression.” You gesture to your clothes and makeup which was very basic this evening.

Billy just smiles before looking over his shoulder. “You always look good.”

“Aw, thank you.” You smile with a shy shrug. “You too, by the way. Love the new hair.”

You don’t even think about it, always being flirty by nature, so for the rest of the evening you and Billy keep it up, all for fun of course. Your mind is still on Matt and your appointment tomorrow. You can’t wait to see him again.

“You’re daydreaming again.” You hear Billy say as he keeps working on Rose. “Thinking about anyone special?” He grins and you know he’s referring to Matt.

“Oh, you know there’s only one guy for me.” You wink at him, before returning to your client. You focus on your work, but the mention of your name makes you look up in time to see Rose walk out the shop.

“Done already?”

“She was just tired.” He looks after her and you don’t press him further and just return to your client.

One of your favorite things was to sleep in, just laying in bed, maybe reading a good book. And even though you had no plans before later today, you had woken up at dusk, unable to fall back to sleep. Today was Matt’s second appointment. A small part of you had thought about being slow today, dragging it out so he had to come back.

You had heard about Billy’s little trick with Rose, making sure she’d come back. You noticed it quickly. He works fast, but not with her. It was kinda cute. So maybe you could do the same? No, it wouldn’t be proper. You shake the thought as you get ready, deciding to head to the shop early. Better to use your time cleaning than just pace your apartment.

Getting there, you restock on colors, gloves, needles. Clean around your station and the others too. When Billy walks in, he seems pleasantly surprised, but also has a worried look on his face.

“You okay there, Shortcake?” He walks closer, leaning against the counter as he looks at you.

“Yeah, just… Getting ready for Ma- my appointment. Thought I’d clean a bit.” You smile, continuing to sweep the floor. But Billy's hand on yours stops you.

“I can see you’re not.” He takes the broom from you and puts it aside, getting you to sit down on your chair. “You really like this guy?”

“Well, I don’t have to.” You shrug, looking away. Even though Billy has mixed business with pleasure, it doesn't make it okay for you to do it too. He and Rose had been friends for years, so that was different. “I know it would be unprofessional, so-”

With raised brows, Billy looks at you and for a minute you’re not sure if he truly is offended. But his face makes you giggle. “I’m sorry, Billy. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” He reassures you as he pulls you in for a quick hug, before he lets you go again. “You’re talented and you’ll do great. And if that Murdock guy doesn’t like you back, he’s a fool. Now, back to work.”

He pats your back as you walk away and returns to his own stuff. You look over your shoulder, thankful for Billy and for him taking a chance on you.

Walking through the doors to the Anvil Tattoo Shop was the highlight of Matt’s week. Ever since the last appointment, he had been thinking about you. Besides being one of the most thoughtful women he’d ever met, you were funny, flirty and smart.

Throughout the session he had a hard time focusing with your hands on him. Surprisingly gentle, considering the needle in your hand. He hadn’t felt the pain, not really, too focused on you. How your heart would beat faster whenever he touched you or gave you a compliment. How your blood would rush to your cheeks at his smile. But most importantly he was surprised at how much he loved his name on your lips.

“I’m ready for you, Matt.” You say softly and Matt has to fight not to smile like a fool at your sweet voice. He follows you to the chair, smirking as he hears the way your breath hitch at seeing his bare chest.

Like the last time, time flies by in the chair. He should feel bad for being here, for enjoying your company as you defile his skin, but he doesn’t. He’ll atone for it later. Atone for the impure thoughts about you.

He knew he would feel everything more given his heightened senses, but this he would never have expected. How soft your touch is, how your breath ghost over his skin when you lean in closer. Your body pressed against his all while inflicting him with this sweet pain.

Between your flirty remarks and your genuine attempt to get to know him, you ask if he’s okay. How can he even answer that? Now that he’s felt this, he will never be okay again. He is exposed in a way he’s never been before, completely at your mercy.

“How’s it going here?” Billy asks as he inspects the tattoo. There’s about an hour's work left and you’re so happy with what you’ve done so far and by the look on Billy’s face, he's proud of your work too.

“With me or her?” Matt questions, making you smile again. “Cause even though I’m no stranger to pain, it’s starting to hurt a little.”

You all laugh and before you can stop yourself, you gently caress Matt’s arm, promising him it’s over soon. Billy gives you a soft pat on the back and notices how some of your hair has gotten loose, so he tugs it back behind your ear, so it’s not blurring your vision.

“Don’t worry, Matt. I’m sure she’ll make it up to you.” Billy winks up at Matt and you can’t help but play along.

“Oh, you know me, Billy. Always leave ‘em feeling good.”

He just about to say something back, when you hear Rose call him from the counter. You’d been so busy with Matt and Billy, neither of you had noticed her come in. She seems upset, so Billy quickly leaves you to your work and follows her out.

“You know what's happening?” Andy asks quietly and you just shake your head. You’re suddenly nervous on Billy’s behalf. You know he’s in love with Rose, that’s clear to see, so you really hope there aren't any problems.

“So, if Billy isn’t your type, who is?” Matt’s question takes you by surprise. You had never mentioned that to anyone besides Frank.

“Ehm, well… I’ve always had a thing for mysterious guys with red glasses. And I do have a thing for eyes, especially if they’re-” you drag out the last word, watching Matt smile as he removes his glasses, revealing the most beautiful hazel eyes you’ve ever seen, “-hazel. I was gonna say that, you know.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You work a little more, seeing out of the corner of your eye how Andy is making his way to the door, trying to eavesdrop on Billy and Rose. Dipping the needle again, you sigh. “I hope he’s not in trouble.”

“He’s not anymore.”

Before you can ask how he knows, they return and everyone in the shop pretends nothing is wrong. When you find out the reason behind Rose being upset, you could kick yourself. You apologize to her several times, promising you didn’t mean anything with the flirting. It’s in your nature, but you promise not to do it again.

Everything seems to fall into place and you finish up Matt’s tattoo. It’s beautiful, if you had to say so yourself and you knew Matt would love it when you tell him about it.

“You know-” he starts, smiling softly, “- the last time it was quite hard to do the aftercare properly. And my friend Foggy was not too pleased with rubbing my back.”

“Well, we can’t have that. So what do you suggest then?” You laugh seductively.

“What if I buy you dinner?” He gives you a flirty smile, making your heart beat hard in your chest. “Then you can tell me all about the after care or… You could show me?”

“Dinner sounds great.” You giggle, feeling your cheeks burn. “But I’m not off until 9.”

“I can take your last client.” Billy says behind you. “She can be ready at 7.”

You look over at Billy with his arms around Rose, both of them giving you a big smile. You mouth a thank you, before returning to Matt to discuss the details about tonight. When he leaves, you can’t help but smile. Dream job and maybe soon, a dream man. You couldn’t really imagine life getting any better than this.

Tagging: @itwasthereaminuteago @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @pedrito-friskito @chvoswxtch @yarrystyleeza @theradioactivespidergwen @mattmurdocksscars @boliv-jenta @murdock-and-the-sea @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @brokebonewritings

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock #daredevil x reader #daredevil fanfiction

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mad4turtles · 2 years ago

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~misinformed~

(A ROTTMNT One-Shot)

In which an upset outsider doesn't have all the facts. Donnie intervenes.

(outsider POV. my first time writing in this style :D)

---

Your first mistake is thinking it'd be funny.

The mutant turtles—the Hamato's, your friends' supply—have been coming by Run of the Mill for about two years. Every time they show up, something happens, so much so that anyone not living under a rock knows who they are by word of mouth alone. Some of Hueso's newest customers come to see what spectacle the morons make of themselves this time.

The normally straight-laced, no-nonsense bone man doesn't seem to mind. He'll roll his eyes and sigh whenever the Blue one loudly struts in like he owns the place, but he hasn't turned them away since that one time the purple one tried to flip a table and failed.

It's as if the owner has a soft spot for the freaks. You can't imagine why. Not when chaos follows them at every turn, dragging others into it against their will.

Like that time with the Shredder beast that tore up the surface. You could care less about the humans, but you almost felt bad for them once the turtles got involved.

And then there was the invasion.

You were on your way to class when rubble started raining from above. Tendrils of pink, slime-coated tentacles seeped through the cracks of the only barrier between the human world and yours. And you're a big freaking guy, a bull yokai that towers over most of your peers, and you were cowering in a corner until the shaking stopped, and the world went quiet after what felt like years.

You learn later that the fabled Krang had been released from their prison dimension by a group of human cultists called the Foot Clan. The turtles were right in the middle of it.

Some thanked the turtles for cancelling the apocalypse, saving the world in a feat of bravery and selflessness. Others, like yourself, who'd heard from the eyes and ears above ground about how the Foot Clan had released the Krang, wanted to wring their necks.

So when, after two months of no-shows, the Blue one shows up alone wearing an oversized blue hoodie, a brace on his left knee and that stupid grin, approaching the counter with a barely-there limp in his step, you and your friends grin.

Your second mistake is leaving your table.

You wait until Hueso leaves to get his order to approach the boy and tap him on the shoulder. He turns and cranes his neck to meet your eyes, smirk firmly in place as he leans against the counter. “Can I help you?” he asks.

You snort, folding your muscular arms. “You're one of those turtle guys, right?”

Blue raises an eye ridge at you like you're the stupid one, gesturing to himself with a wave of his arm. “I mean, I am a turtle, so...”

You fight to keep your grin. “Yeah. I heard you guys were a big help during that crazy shit with the Krang. Terrible stuff, that was. A miracle you made it out.”

The kid's face twitches in an odd way you've never seen before his grin comes back up like shutters on a door. “Yeah, you could say that,” he says, inspecting his nails. “We're basically legends now, my bros and I. I go by many names, Neon Leon, Nardo, The World's Greatest Ninja--but you can call me Leo, my good man. Need me to sign your napkin for ya? Your face, your shirt—?”

The audacity of this kid. You admit you feel more than a little satisfied when you slap one hand down on the counter, making him jump as you loom over him.

“Sure. You're a hero, alright,” you sneer, drawing up to your full height as the kid bumps the back of his shell against the counter. “But I heard that you and your 'bros' were the morons who let those Foot freaks set the Krang loose in the first place. Ain't that right?”

You watch as the kid goes ridged, eyes wide, the smile wiped clean off his face. Finally. “How—I mean, I—I, uh—”

“What? Got nothing to say?”

You feel eyes on you from other patrons, your friends chuckling from your table, watching the smug idiot under you start to sweat.

“How about I help you? You can start with, I don't know, an apology. How many humans do you think lost their lives up there, hm? I don't give a shit either way, but since you're out here boasting about being their 'hero', I'd say that's a pretty big deal. Or what about the Yokai down here who thought they'd lose everything when the rubble fell and destroyed homes and businesses? You ever think about them while you were up acting like some big-shot playing pretend?” You chuckle. “Must've hurt like a bitch when reality slapped you in the face.”

There's a light tremble in the kid's hands as he tries and fails to muster a smile that falls hilariously flat. “L-Look—look, man,” he stammers, looking away and clutching his wrist with the other hand, subtly trying to skirt around you away from the counter. “It was—I messed up, I know that, and I—”

You don't let him finish. You don't care for his excuses. Instead, you shove him in the chest hard enough that he topples gracelessly to the floor in a heap. Your friends laugh a little louder, and you almost join in. This is their supposed hero?

“Then you got a lotta nerve showing up here like you didn't nearly start the apocalypse, buddy.” You snort again, sending his mask tails flying as he shuts his eyes against your breath. You lean down, lowering your voice into a growl for his ears alone.

“I speak for a lot of us when I say we're sick and tired of you freaks barging in here. We were fine until you showed up, acting like you belong. You ain't even true Yokai—word is you're a bunch of lab accidents that mad bastard Draxum cooked up. You weren't wanted then, and you're sure as hell aren't welcome now, so you'd best be on your way and not show your sorry shell around here again, you freaking pest—”

You have just enough time to watch Blue's eyes snap wide open, haunted and unseeing before a voice stops you cold.

“Hey.”

You lean back and turn around. The Purple one with the fake shell is stomping the distance between you, a look in his eyes that almost makes you think twice. Almost.

Beneath you, Blue is shaking. “D-Don,” he forces out in a choked voice. “You-you're meant to wait out—”

Purple walks right past you, not even looking at you, and kneels beside Blue, taking him by the shoulders, eyes roaming him up and down. “Are you alright? Are you injured?”

Blue looks at you briefly before looking away, utterly cowed. “'m fine.”

“You certainly do not look fine, seeing as you're on the floor, and my scanners picked up an abnormal heart rate increase. Was this fine gentleman responsible or am I misreading the situation again—?”

“Just drop it, Don. Tio's comin' back with our orders soon, so we'll split.”

You watch as Purple's drawn eyebrows (seriously, who does that?) furrow as he helps Blue to his feet. “Don't you wanna talk to Hueso? He hasn't seen you since your rehab started—”

“I know,” Blue snaps, looks like he regrets it, then hangs his head again, staring at the hand holding his wrist. You notice a blue cast under the drooping hoodie sleeve. “I know. But I just. I wanna go home. Okay?”

Purple stares.

You huff. “Better listen to your 'bro', here,” you say. “It's probably the first good idea he's had.”

Your last mistake is opening your mouth.

Purple turns very slowly and finally looks up at you. His expression is blank, unreadable, and even with all your height and strength, you admit it's slightly unsettling.

“I'm sorry,” Purple says, “who the hell are you?”

Behind him, Blue tentatively reaches for his hand and tugs it, whispering frantically—“It's not worth it, Dee, come on, don't make a scene, it's fine—”

Purple whirls on Blue. You can't see the face he's making, but it silences Blue instantly, his eyes wide. Your friends suddenly start whispering harshly at you to back up.

You ignore them, crossing your arms again so your muscles bulge. “Just a resident of the city your friend here nearly destroyed,” you say, riding the high of putting one more smug asshole in his place. It's high time he learned it.

Purple turns around again. He doesn't blink. “Is that so?” he asks.

“Donnie, please—“

“Nardo, I am invoking my rights as the eldest twin to silence you while I have a civil conversation with this good gentleman slash bull-guy,” Purple says in a clipped tone. He slips his hand from Blue's and steps forward until he's toe to hoof with you. He barely reaches your chest, and you almost laugh. “Would you care to elaborate on what you were talking to my brother about?”

You're more than happy to. “Just giving some friendly advice. You all talk a big game, but there's a thing called growing up and taking responsibility. Sooner or later, you'll have to put your toys away and realize real life isn't a game. You don't play hero and expect praise or thanks when things don't go how they do in your video games. That's how little pests like him get—”

Between one breath and the next, Purple grabs the edge of an unoccupied table, ripping it off its hinges and slamming you in the face.

The world goes white for a moment, a ringing in your ears. Warmth leaks down your lip and clogs your nose, and one of your horns feels worryingly loose. The ringing fades, and you realize the restaurant is silent.

You blink once, twice, and on the third blink, you see Purple standing over you with a chair lifted above his head by the legs. His face is murderous.

“Wait—!”

Purple brings the chair down on you with enough force to rattle the bones in your arms as you shield your bleeding face. He swings again, hitting your shoulder. He swings again at your knee, again at your head. Heedless of your cries or the shouts from the wait staff, the chair comes down again and again and again and again, each time a little harder, until the chair finally explodes in a shower of splinters.

You're an aching mess of bruises curled up on the floor, arms over your head like a child. You dare to peek, and Purple is panting hard, a single chair leg in his vice-like grip. Behind him, Blue stares with impossibly wide eyes.

Then Purple raises his head to pierce you with a glare. He stomps a foot on your side, and a pixelated wave of purple energy swirls around his arm, turning the chair leg into a glowing staff that he thrusts under your chin, right against your throat. You don't dare to move an inch even as breathing becomes difficult.

“You seem grossly misinformed, so allow me to do what is typical of my generation and educate you,” he says, his dead monotone belying the bloodlust in his gaze as he holds yours tighter than the staff in his hands. “My brother is sixteen. He is sixteen, and he made a mistake. One he would not have made had he known, had any of us known, what was at stake. But we didn't. He didn't, and he nearly died trying to make things right. Think about that for a second. My sixteen-year-old twin brother nearly killed himself to right a wrong and save not just New York or the Hidden City, but the whole freaking world.”

The tip of the bo presses harder against your neck. You splutter, fighting for breath.

“And you,” Purple hisses, “have no right to judge him. But alas, you were, as stated previously, grossly misinformed. So I will let you off with a warning.”

He leans in close enough that you can see the sparks of purple flashing in his golden eyes like lightning, and you're as stiff as a rabbit under the claws of a hawk. “If you ever come near my brother again—if you even look at him funny, you or your peanut gallery over there, I will hunt you down and reduce you to atoms. And I'll take your stupid freaking horns and hang them on my wall, or use them as mugs, as that seems to be popular with D&D fans. Either way, you will cease to exist, and no one will miss you when you're gone. Are we clear?”

You nod as best as you can, not trusting your voice—it's gotten you in enough trouble—and Purple finally takes the pressure off your neck, removing his foot from your side. You gasp greedily for air, sitting up on your elbows and rubbing your throat, your body throbbing.

Purple has already turned back to Blue, and Hueso's chosen now of all times to come running out, followed closely by one of the servers, a harried-looking dragon yokai. He takes one look at the room, one look at you, before whirling on Purple, speaking in rapid-fire Spanish that you couldn't understand if you tried. Purple wraps an arm around Blue and replies, also in Spanish, in that same dead monotone. Hueso looks at Blue, and something softens in his expression.

Only for it to harden again when he turns to you, bleeding from the face, still on the floor and littered with bruises and splinters of wood. Your friends finally get off their asses and help you up just in time for Hueso to march over and give you all the tongue-lashing of your lives for harassing young customers. You almost fire back, but Purple is watching you. You see your death in his flashing eyes and shut your mouth.

You're escorted out with a warning of a lifetime ban, utterly cowed under the stares of the patrons and the resentful glares of servers as you walk out the door. You feel Purple's eyes on you the whole time, and only when the mystic door swings shut can you breathe again.

You didn't think anything would scare you more than the Krang had, though you never actually saw them. But Purple's threat looms over your head and echoes in your ears, and you wonder.

You don't go back to Run of the Mill again.

---

Thanks for reading <3 Feel free to send requests :3

#rottmnt #rottmnt fic #disaster twins #rottmnt fanfic #my writing #I may make a part 2 with Donnie's POV #Leo seems a little OOC but this is from a stranger's POV #protective brother #can you tell i love the disaster twins?

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rosrets · 2 years ago

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what are these shadow ideas you speak of 👀

you have no idea what you've just wrought. sorry in advance but no i’m not

SHADOW TIMELINE. i catalogue this in my mind when i draw him because i’m fucking crazy but i decided to draw it out because the doctors needed more reasons to lock me the hell up. this is essentially going to be me rambling about all my design notes for whenever i draw him + whatever else the fuck because i like to think about him existing a lot and pray for the day we get an actually good shadow spin-off (this will never happen)

baby shadow - was let out of his tube when he was about 10-12 years developed - lived on the ark for 5-3 years with gerald and maria and whatever other scientists were around. - he was totally nonverbal for a while and took classes to learn how to speak, this was great for the scientists though because the biolizard shockingly failed this . shadow was just autistic - really nervous and did not have a lot of confidence for the first like. year of being alive he hated being alone and always clinged onto whoever was closest to him

ark shadow - much more confident after getting closer with maria still quiet and fairly reserved but was not above playing some pranksandjokes. a bit of a trickster - chest fur, claws and quills maintained by maria. she liked cutting his chest fluff into a heart - rarely wore his air shoes on the arc because the sensation of metal + metal sucks and he wasn’t supposed to skate in the hallways. sometimes wore socks when his paws got cold (often) sa2 shadow - garbage memory. turns out being frozen for 50 years does wonders for brain function - fur is more unkempt, has stopped maintaining himself - extremely bitter and cynical, not an outright asshole though and is not above friendly rivalry even if he’s trying to kill the guy he’s racing. he is also incredibly trusting and loyal, struggling to see when he’s being used (ref. eggman, rouge to an extent) - considerably more smug, all he really remembers is maria dying and the fact that he’s the ultimate lifeform but he doesn’t brag and still keeps to himself. - development of the autism scowl begins - once he remembers everything he very quickly regains his senses, developing immense respect for sonic as an equal, as well as a strong sense of selflessness. promptly fucking dies. heroes - shth05 shadow - doesn’t remember fucking anything and is almost constantly on the verge of like 4 different identity crisises - quills got burnt off falling from earth, as well as an ear shredded when he fell into a tree or something idk. he was put in stasis before it could heal which permently fucked it up - still not maintaining himself - eyes wide and full of wonder. still extremely gullible and easy to manipulate, very trusting. (ref. eggman, black doom) - hardly speaks (more talkative in shth05 though) 06 - onward shadow - remembers everything and its extremely overwhelming but he’s dealing with it - most reserved he’s ever been, very distrusting, rarely lets himself gets close to others and the only people he allows himself to drop his guard down around and be a bit more playful are rouge and omega. rarely sonic but this is only ever heat of the moment and never intentional - hates physical contact, easy to overwhelm if he isn’t focused, autism scowl in full force - very hygienic but still a bit overgrown - newfound fear of attatchment and loss, tends to avoid it at all costs, tending to push people away. still fiercly loyal to those who do gain his trust even if he’s garbage at showing it and prone to focusing on the wrong things extra - brown eyes. they look red or orange under some light. blame sonic prime - he still has tourettes i wasn’t bluffing on that but i don’t think anyone thought i was. his tics are usually pretty subtle and only team dark knows about it - prefers fingerless because he likes to be able to feel the earth directly when he touches the ground. something about chaos power + sensory issues - paw pads glow green any time he’s using chaos power (chaos control, super shadow, etc) - he motified his shoes a few times just to fit slightly better. this is only a note because i keep changing the way i draw them - almost always some kind of tired but insists he does not need to sleep that often because of how his chaos energy works. thjis is NOT true he’s just stupid and has nightmares that he doesn't like to deal with - lives at the casino rouge had in sonic battle - still has a really bad memory from being repeatedly frozen - really fond of snack foods. will rawdog an entire pack of saltines in under a minute if you don’t stop him - prefers skating even despite the speed because the shock from running is overstimulating - hates loud noises but still thinks guns and motorcycles are really cool. he can handle it if he’s the one making the noise - semiverbal . does not like to talk . there are several reasons for this - have i made it clear enough that he’s autistic? he’s autistic BONUS - super shadow

- stripes flare out to look more like stars (this applies when he takes off his inhibitor rings as well) - red gets much brighter, eyes glow red + yellow - unstable in this form, it does not come very naturally to him and exhausts him quickly. not able to maintain it as long as sonic

#ask #therealsomajesticdonki #sth #shadow the hedgehog #i'll add more if i remember but this is what i have for now. smiles at you while shaking #this is so incredibly vulnerable for me #and also entirely from memory #tried to stay as accurate as possible to the games while putting my own insane spin onto it. i like him a lot.

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satureja13 · 2 years ago

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This is the last part of ‘The Story of Kiyoshi and Dtui’ (two years ago/link leads to chrono)

Dtui and Kiyoshi had risen from the ashes like a phoenix - stronger, smarter and more powerful.

But Kiyoshi’s first months at the temple had been very hard for him. For the first seventeen years of his life he’d been raised in the beliefs of the Council and now he had lost his home and his family (and almost his life). His whole life until now had been a lie. The guilt had been eating him up. And Dtui had been full time busy with keeping him stable.

He had so much to learn, though. And the studies and his duties at the temple distracted him and kept him from overthinking too much. There was a whole new fascinating universe to discover he barely ever heard of before!

And then there was this subliminal longing for this werewolf. Could it really be possible that he was his fated mate? Like Dtui and Ms Coombes had implied? What crazy fate thinks it’s funny to make up a pairing like the two of them?

So in addition he started to study werewolves in his free time. And what it takes to be mated to one...

And additional to all this studies he had always been the best student of his year at school. He really gave himself no time to breathe...

Kiyoshi waited for almost two years before he made his first move on Jack. Jack’s zodiac sign is cancer, so his birthday is between end of june to end of july. And on august 7th (i checked my tumblr archives lol) Kiyoshi asked Ji Ho if he can take Jack to the prom! Just a few days/weeks after Jack’s 18th birthday! Kiyoshi was just another premade then and neither part of the household nor was it planned to add him to the story. (And I learned about their zodiac signs in November ^^’) (crazy ö.ö) So now we know: - why he is so dominant in his relationship to Jack (because he prepares to become Jack’s Alpha. Even if it’s not his nature. (Kiyoshi is acting like a top/is a bottom and Jack is acting like a bottom/is a bottom.) But after all Jack went through plus the damage he took from the laboratory plus his puppy nature make Jack a omega through and through. He needs protection and someone to look after him - and a strong hand...)

- why they date in secret (because the Council is regularly raiding the temple and sent Sebastian to spy Kiyoshi. Kiyoshi does not want the Council to be overly interested in the boys to not put them in jeopardy. Plus the council is not aware that it had been Saiwa and Jack they had kidnapped and tortured in the lab. Kiyoshi does not want to draw the council’s attention to them again. This counts for Vlad too. Kiyoshi seemed to know about Vlad and his connection to the Council and that they were about to kill him earlier. See -> here and -> here.) Plus Kiyoshi feels guilty. He fears if Jack ever finds out about Kiyoshi’s family and that they are involved in the Council’s machinations, Jack would turn his back on him.

- why he pretends to be interested in other guys and girls (see above)

From the Beginning ~ Underwater Love ~ Latest

#The Story of Dtui and Kiyoshi #sims 4 story #sims 4 simblr #sims 4 occult #sims 4 vanilla #Kiyoshi Ito #Dtui Ngyen #Komorebi Centre #mt komorebi #Underwater Love

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mayordea · 11 months ago

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huzzah! 2023 art review!

it’s almost the end of the year, wowzers! i always do one of these art review thingies since i always like looking back at the art ive made :> last year i posted the review on my other account and left it at there, but this year i want to actually review each month and notable pieces i made… just for fun!

this post is very much just for me lol, but i hope someone out there enjoys it. month-by-month review + previous year in reviews will be under the cut! 🩷

(also, shoutout to tumblr for going rouge and posting this way way earlier than i had scheduled 😍 luckily tumblr post editor is weirdly based and kept all my embedded links when i pasted it from the old one? hell yeah)

Jan: started off the year with a painting of my beloved ocs after ending last year with one! (and i will be talking about my older year in reviews, rest assured). this was my obligatory cute shared scarf art, and i wanted to try attempting to render something more involved like two characters and draping cloth. i don't think the result was too shabby, though this was before i discovered my favorite rendering brush for procreate, so in hindsight, it looks kinda flat and boring now. where's all the crunch? ah but anyway, starting a whole year with your art in a mid place compared to what you made later on is par for the course.

Feb: probably the month where i had the least art to put here, i remember scraping a little to find one. this was a chrobin piece i made in my sketchbook! nothing too noteworthy... i think i tried doing a slightly different approach to coloring with markers (applying the color before the lineart) and incorporating paint, but i remember this one giving me trouble. first of all, the size i drew this in was really small (it was in a small sketchbook and i decided to mask the margins with comparatively wide masking tape), and second of all the paper was absolutely NOT built for gouache, so it ended up a kind of wrinkly and muddy mess. i mean i'm still not the best with gouache now but still, not my best.

March: a redraw of a robin piece i made back when i was still on amino. i probably won't share the old versions because they're crap, so just trust me on the redraw part. anyway, the last iteration of the concept was in 2019 i think? and while i was proud of it for a while, its luster finally faded and i decided to try doing it again in procreate. this was when i discovered my love for the soft chalk brush in the jingsketch basics brush pack. for a while i've been using the hard render brush in that pack to render, but this one's texture and chalkiness totally changed the game. i was in love!! also tried to be a little more crazy and vibrant with how i applied the base colors, using saturated colors across the board. this process didn't consistently stick, but i think it yielded some neat results here. another hit from this month was my piece of grandmaster robin, since i'm really proud of the detail here!.

Apr: guys, april was MY MONTH! i remember making so much art in just a few weeks, something just clicked in my brain i guess. i chose my drawings of hagane rin and len since this was when i truly began to get comfy in my lineart era (after the grandmaster drawing). this month was full of detailed line drawings at that, but this one was what made me both enjoy the process a lot and do more of it. hell yeah. other hits: vocaloids at mcdonald's (i drew a background omg!!!), alice in ny fanart (just the euphoria of finally nailing a composition for this piece after struggling with it in november was great), and the end-world normopathy fanart (it's a line drawing, and a traditional one at that. i was happy with incorporating gold accents into my typically monochromatic style when it comes to my line-focused drawings as well as getting tamari's mechanical details nailed).

May: hell yeah. evil power couple time. this one was another line-art heavy one since i thought it fit the vibe. the softer colors in the background i feel like could have been executed a little better, but i do like how this came out, especially the armor (good god fe armor is a pain to render, but i think i've gotten better at it this year! middle school me would be so jealous). not much else to say here. Other hit this month would be my alice of human sacrifice fanart, another line-heavy traditional drawing. i think it turned out nice, especially for a crammed composition lol.

Jun: another end-world normopathy-centered fanart. i mentioned it in my og post but i was trying out a slightly different painting style where i did a black-and-white base first and then added colors as an overlay (also in the initial upload of the post i was so fucking meek about posting fanart of mariyam's alternate design teased at the end of the mv?? 😭 sorry about that, i've edited it out but it's still in early reblogs. kind of cringe on my part). i didn't end up committing to this consistently cuz the beginning process was kind of tedious (plus i'm too inept to pay close attention to values anyway), but laying down all the colors after the long rendering process was rewarding! it's a nice alternative with i get bored with my other method to yield basically the same-looking result lol. this month featured some more pieces that tried using this process, like the one with my oc alice, lucina and dark pit hanging out, and f!robin's resplendent design from feh.

Jul: ah yes my typical flavor of "improvised oc art that i invent new symbolism for on the fly that i apply meaning to after i'm finished". kinda just wanted to paint something again because i've been doing a lot of line drawings lately and to go back to my old painting process again. honestly, i mainly picked this one because i wanted more oc art and non-lineart drawings to be in this chart lol. art i made this month that i'm real proud of is this family pic of some young cryptonloids (i really like how the colors came out on this one!) and my birthday drawing for miku's sweet 16, which was originally completed this month. i opted out of considering it for my july art to avoid confusion. also also, this very whack pathological facade fanart (plus some doodles i didn't post) opened my eyes to the beautiful world of NOISE and HALFTONES and just slapping crazy textures onto my art like nobody's business. hell yeah.

Aug: ok this one is kind of another piece i picked to represent this month that isn't quite my favorite but i chose anyway for the sake of variety (in this case, i wanted more traditional pieces and non-vocaloid stuff). for once, i used my bigger sketchbook to make a big n detailed piece for my boy's new brave alt in feh (that game has zero significance to me outside of cool alt costumes for my faves). my actual fave from this month was young miku/meiko/kaito chillin in their house; i'm real proud of the background and lighting! but i still like this robin too ofc, big fan of how the colors came out ;3

Sep: another traditional drawing! felt compelled to draw kandy again, specifically her evil miitopia great sage incarnation :> this one was pretty standard in terms of process, and not much was really done to experiment. just wanted to draw something cool of my girl for my sketchbook. other fave from this month is this sketchy miku i did, i like how loose it came out and how the colors pop.

Oct: pretty palutena!~ i think i went into this trying to do something a little different with my painting process (i think it was to try incorporating more colors in the shading like the blue in the dress or more saturated colors near the focal point, but i can't remember LOL) or try rendering a more detailed character w/ a background (even if the background was pretty vague). i like this one! especially the color cohesion, it's pretty swag imo. other faves from this month was fanart i made for the song "orbit" since i also like how the color cohesion came out for this one, and the maid dress/crossover drawing i made for cringetober. no other words needed to explain why.

Nov: another digital painting! it's yet another ghost song, this time "uncanny". i really loved the aesthetic of this song, especially its bold colors and simplistic shapes, so i wanted to try capturing it in my style. i really love how the colors turned out on this, though i've yet to truly recreate what i like about this particular painting again? regardless, it's one of my faves, deserving of one of my favorite ghost songs. few other highlights from this month would be my obligatory purple robin drawing for the month, my sketchbook drawing of my luka design, and my fanart of utsu-p's song "ga". i like how i was able to do a couple of my different "styles"/processes this month rather than just sticking to just one. they all have their own feel to them that i like to play around with depending on the idea.

Dec: and finally, we're at the end. like july, we have another heavily improvised oc drawing with symbolism i came up with on the spot. that's just how i do things. anyway, this turned out really good in my opinion! i tried to stick to a color palette i saved in procreate a long time ago, and damn is it a fine palette. it helped me get a little loose with the colors and solely focus on creating a strong composition with colors and contrast rather than get hung up on sticking to typical color palettes. i also really like how i did the background by essentially using the liquify tool to swish all the colors around and then polished it a little on top. made for a really cool effect. other notable work would be the companion piece i made with my other oc that had a similar style since i liked the process of this one. there will probably be more as of when i'm drafting this (at the beginning of december) but i just wanna be finished w this post already bro

all around, very satisfied with this year. there was kind of a lot of song fanarts (something that i am somewhat guilty about because it feels like i'm unoriginal or something, but i swear it's cuz i'm really passionate about vocaloid music and need to act on what my braincells do when i listen to certain tracks), but overall i'm happy i was able to maintain some slight variety in the art i made this year through my chosen mediums and "styles" or processes i use.

this was the first year where i really wanted to have a fully rendered piece i'm proud of to represent every month. now, i wouldn't recommend this since forcing yourself to make art is not a good mindset to be in (sometimes, with how early i pushed some pieces out in certain months to get the monthly quota over with makes it seem like i'm getting paid to have a pretty year-in-review LOL). i was pretty lucky to not really have much burnout i guess?

~~~

ok now that all that boring stuff is out of the way, here’s my previous years! this is the sixth year i have made an art review chart.

lightning round review time! (probably just gonna be more boring stuff)

2018: ok, so this was the year where my prime art hosting platform was… amino… specifically smash amino. as much as i could rant about how much i hate that place now, i cant deny that it got me creating a lot of stuff. also it was an actual date archive for my traditional art because i never got in the habit of dating my physical art 🙃 uh don’t mind the absolute horrid graphic design on this one. i grabbed a template which was probably saved from a bunch of other places from amino and… didn’t really know how the formatting was supposed to work. first of all, i edited this in picsart on my phone and the chart wasn’t transparent, and second of all i didn’t know you were supposed to crop only the main focus so it could fit and be a little more clear. hence why its such a visual eyesore. i've been meaning to remake it to make it a little less bad (once i get my hands on the traditional pieces again), but i guess its shoddiness adds to its charm, much like amino. but anyway, 2018 was a bit of a turning point year for me in the smash amino art biz. on amino, i mostly made copies of official artwork from smash (character renders and so forth), and this year i actually tried experimenting with my own original ideas and scenes (my copying roots were still around at this time tho, seen in the november drawing which is based on ssbu’s mural art. i mainly moved on to copying artwork from feh). this was also the year i got my ipad and finally got into making digital art. i didn’t have the knowledge of digital art that i have today obviously, so colors and lighting were usually on the plain side. i also hit my stride with making more ambitious traditional art that incorporated backgrounds and such, and they’re pieces i’m still really proud of!

2019: so, i actually made this chart some time in 2021 or 22 because i didnt make an actual chart in 2019 officially (i forgor). which bums me out because i deleted my amino account by then, so a lot of dates for traditional pieces were flushed down the toilet the one time i needed them. so, to compensate, i tried scraping any digital piece i could to fill in some spaces, which is why some are more underwhelming than others. but yeah since this isn’t fully accurate to my art progress that year, 2019 is a bit fuzzy. main thing of note that year is midway through i got really REEAALLY into fire emblem: three houses and drew a lot of art of the characters (not shown much on the chart because they were mostly sketches and whatnot). imo there’s not much improvement or stylistic changes from 2018 in this year to note. 2020 on the other hand…

2020: if it wasn’t clear, this was my jojo phase. i got into jojo at the end of 2019 and my downward spiral into jojo hell bled into 2020 :p as such, i made a lot of jojo art. and because i made a lot of jojo art, this was the year where my style shifted drastically. i feel like it’s a common phenomenon for artists getting a total stylistic makeover after getting into jojo. whether it’s to imitate araki’s style or just trying to accommodate the characters’… features, i ended up facing the same thing. gone were big round heads with tiny mouths and in were tree trunk necks and higher effort placed in learning anatomy, both for the full body and well as the face. it was around may of this year i got procreate and moved on from ibis paint for digital art. while i still have my personal hangups with procreate, im glad i ended up investing in it since it really just works for me!!

2021: around summer 2020 in peak pandemic mood, i decided to indulge in some nostalgia and listened to some old vocaloid tunes from my middle school days. and then i kept rediscovering more stuff, and then i ended up browsing producers' individual discographies, and uh yeah i am still suffering the consequences of my vocaloid renaissance to this day. while it wasn't prominent in the 2020 chart, it really started to leak its way into my art subjects in 2021. however, i still primarily stuck to my roots with fe/"smash"/jojo fanart. this year was mainly trying to find my style again i suppose? i had already learned the ropes of procreate, its limitations, and the options it has to aid with the art making process, so it was just a matter of flinging a bunch attempts at a ~style~ to see which one i liked the most. i did try finding a painting/rendering style a lot by way of copying (mainly guessing based on speedpaints) other artists' styles and process with digital painting which ended up growing into my own thing. i know they all sort of look the same, but march, april, and october of this year all had slightly different ways of doing all the shading n rendering for painting that i liked experimenting w/ in the future.

2022: by this point, i had fully gotten used to procreate and the methods i used to make art, and the vocaloid train had no signs of stopping. i think the main thing of note this year was that i was able to break out of the "5 million overlays of pink and purple color vomit" box my digital art was set it. while it used to amuse me when i first began abusing it in my art, i guess i just sort of grew out of it? it ended up making a lot of my art look homogeneous, and it took out the fun trial and error of picking the colors to match the atmosphere myself. i also tried to get more experimental with my compositions, mainly in trying to make them more dense with Stuff as well as finally get a little more comfortable with drawing backgrounds. besides those things however, i remember feeling my art progress was very stagnant this year, with not much noticeable change from january to december. perhaps i've gotten a bit comfortable with the state it's in. regardless, still a good year all around.

~~~

whew. THAT'S finally done with. if you made it to the end of this very me-centered ramble, congrats. i will probably make reblog additions in future years to continue this little saga. idk if i'll be as detailed as i was for the 2023 lineup, but we'll see.

#not art #year in review #year in review 2023 #art review #fanart #mayors ocs #traditional art #digital art #long post #art #artists on instagram

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