#had a lot of fun with this one despite how annoying it was to draw

[asvidema]

wedding girls, myshka and agnes

[joshuamj]

Linktober Day 8. Tunic

[elodieunderglass]

And one amang, an Iyrysch man,

Uppone his hoby swyftly ran…

WAIT HANG ON - slamming the brakes on drawing this stupid picture - do you nerds even KNOW the etymology of the word “hobby”? The thing you do for pleasure? The thing you have too many of? The thing you spend too much money on and share with your friends? The thing tumblr probably is to you? Those hobbies?

It comes from a now-kind-of-extinct breed of Irish pony-horse. It was called the Irish Hobby. Supposedly the hobby got its name from the Gaelic word obann, or swift. They definitely were. They’d obann your pants clean off.

Fast tough little bastards, built for rough terrain and renowned for their speed and stamina, hobby horses belonged to the Celts, and their highly annoying style of mounted warfare. but their conquerors liked hobby horses a lot, kept them, used them for themselves, and found them useful enough, despite the fact that they also had famously useful things like mounted knights or horse archers. A lightweight Irish warrior, mounted on a hobby horse, was called a hobelar.

Reportedly and in depictions, hobelars rode without stirrups. Or saddles. Or bridles. Or - well - this is all sounding very improbable, because the hobelars COULDNT have just been charging around basically bare-assed on naked ponies, screaming, and somehow in the process undoing the composure of actual mounted armoured knights. Knights who, I remind you, had stirrups. Stirrups are useful! It’s quite likely the hobelars had some gear. And clothes. and weapons. And the ponies probably had some tack - I am picturing a bellyband that you could at least hang a saddlebag on, and a neck rope for catching the bloody thing, even if not a saddle. But the overall impression, somehow created by people on darling little ponies, was apparently quite striking and fearful.

I mean. God Forbid People Have Hobbies.

Anyway after a while, whatever people became the British had eventually conquered all of the rough terrain that hobbies were best at, and horse archers just got sexier, and mounted knights became aristos, and all the bog and forest people had been subdued, so it was time to sunset the hobelars. but WAIT! Hobby horses are still tremendously fun and appealing! They’re so fast! and you can ride them without a saddle! Sure, they’re not up to the weight of a mounted knight, or indeed a lot of guys… but surely we can still find a use for a hobby or two? In the back garden? Somewhere?

At which point an English king decided to keep hobby horses just for fun. No military application. No further development of the technology. Not for fun. Just as expensive, pleasurable, pets. Just for the joy of the thing.

And that is how hobby (activity done purely for pleasure) comes from hobby horse (small horse) possibly from obann (swift.) they’re very interesting and you should look all this up for yourself! because it sure sounds like Elodie doing a bit, doesn’t it?

Today, Irish Hobbies are functionally nonexistent. References for drawing include the Kerry Bog Pony, the Connemara, and (I personally think) Dartmoors and Exmoors. They’re said to have lent their speed to the Irish Hunter/Sport Horse and from there to the Thoroughbred, but every damn horse in the world claims relation to the Thoroughbred, and they can’t be THAT thoroughly bred.

At any rate - you can never have enough hobbies. Just be glad that yours aren’t expensive beasts with minds of their own, eating their heads off in the pasture! …Unless they are. In which case, you’re part of a proud tradition.

[luveline]

hi love! i absolutely adore ur writing and u should be so so proud of it. anyway i was just thinking about coworker james when readers car wont start in the parking lot and he like takes a look at it and is under the hood and reader is just like "oh...😍" cause the muscles are OUT and shes down bad

ty lovely 💌 fem

“Oh,” you say, “of course.” 

You drop your face into your steering wheel and sigh. An annoyed burst of sound, not cute or feminine or fun, a grunt of defeat. This sucks. Work sucks, life sucks, your car not starting is the least of your worries and yet somehow the most prevalent. 

How am I gonna get home? you think to yourself, defeated.

“Hey!” someone calls. Jogging, the last person you want to see in the world right now stopping at your door. James frowns at you. “It’s not starting?” 

You pop your door, careful not to pop him at the same time. “How’d you know?” 

“I heard the engine turn over.”

“It’s making a clicking sound,” you say, twisting the key so he can hear it. 

“It’s dead, probably. Your battery.”

James has an odd way of talking occasionally, as though you’ve started a conversation and he’s adding onto it. Remus says it's ADHD. You like it no matter what it is and despite yourself —it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t like him. Like, you hate him, he’s annoying beyond explanation, but your more positive feelings for him are heavy and ever present. So, so heavy.

“I’ll pull my car up and we can give it a jumpstart,” he says. “Easy fix.” 

“You don’t have to go?” 

“What?” 

“You have rugby today.” 

“Oh, no, it's the off season now.” He smiles and you don’t get why. “Let me go get the car.” 

James jogs back to his car and brings it next to yours. Everybody who isn’t Human Resources or security has left already, leaving the car park practically empty, ample room for him to park beside you. He gets back out. 

“I don’t have, uh, cables,” you say.

James gives you a smile that is as patronising as it is attractive. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I have everything you need.” 

He feels along the edge of your hood, pops the seal, pushes it up into the air, and hooks the prop rod into place. He’s clearly done it before, and the whole while you’re watching his arm. His rolled sleeves draw attention to the tightness at his bicep, and the moving ligament and muscle of his tricep as he leans into the engine to look things over. “I’m no mechanic, but I do know everything, and I thought maybe things were a bit hot but your engine’s stone cold.” 

“So it’s definitely the battery?” 

“Probably.” He scratches his jaw, peering curiously into the guts of it all. “When was the last time somebody looked in here?” he asks, squinting at you, unaware that he’s the finest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Your breath gets caught. 

“Have you ever had it looked at?” he asks, concerned. 

“I… maybe I did. I think so.” 

“You’re supposed to have it looked at every year? For MOT?” 

“I know, I thought you meant before that.” He’s distracting.

James looks you over. “It’s fine,” he says emphatically, “even if I can’t fix your battery, I can still drive you home. You’re panicking for no reason.” 

“Right.” Panicking! Yes, this is panic.

“Listen, can you get the jump leads from my boot? I have to open the hood.” He gestures for you to go. You do as he’s asked, wobbly, and struggle when you get there to actually open it. You slides your fingers under his car's emblem and flinch as it flies up past your face. 

His boot is surprisingly well organised. There’s a duffel bag to one side half-zipped that showcases a flash of red and white uniform, a pair of formal shoes, a dark jacket folded and hidden behind the bag. You want to be nosey and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid. You rush to grab the cables and almost clip yourself on the boot as you duck from under the boot and round the car. 

James smiles when he sees you. No indication that you’re an imposition, it’s sort of like you’re two friends. 

He pushes his sleeves farther up and digs in. It’s awful, what business does he have looking so sharply put together? You hadn’t thought you were preferential to muscle until right this moment watching James move around your engine like an expert. 

“What are your plans tonight?” 

Your palms are hot behind your back. “I was thinking I’d watch a new movie.” 

“That sounds fun.” He ducks away from the engine. “I don’t watch many movies.”

“What do you do with all your time?” 

“Argue with Sirius about who’s turn it is to wash the dishes.” 

You startle. “You and Sirius live together?” 

James laughs and pulls the leads to his own engine. “You didn’t know that?” 

“You come in different cars.” 

“I come in much earlier than he does. And after work he and Remus always have things to do. It’s weird, isn’t it, how couples are always busy? I feel like I never do anything.” James grins at you. “This is interesting, at least. My Friday night isn’t a total waste.” 

James gets into his car and you into yours. With some fiddling, pleading, and a strange noise, he manages to push life back into your car. His smile when it works is his worst one to date, elated and shockingly handsome. 

That Monday, against your better judgement, you bring him a little carrot cake in a tin. A thank you card felt like too much. 

To his credit, he doesn’t brag to anyone that he saved you. He says thank you for the cake with another real smile, and for some reason, despite the mild weather, he rolls his sleeves up at his desk. Almost like he noticed you…

Well, he couldn’t have. Right?

[sunsetmade]

hii, can you write something about rafe with a clumsy girlfriend? (I've read the previous one that you wrote and it's the first work of yours that I've read!) like she's just soo soft and gentle, moves clumsily and always has cuts and bruises (optional), knocks things and glass is too dangerous for her:((she's so me). everyone feels annoyed with it and makes fun of her for it, teasing rafe that he probably lost his mind, making a girl like him his girlfriend. it makes her think if rafe gets tired of taking care of her? she thinks that she'd be too hopeless without him with her:(( love lots and also, you can make adjustments, with no pressure!

Thank you so much for the request! I love the clumsy reader trope!

Hazardously Yours

Rafe Cameron x Clumsy! Reader

She was the kind of girl who got tripped up by her own shoelaces.

And not in that poetic, dreamy, “life’s a mess” kind of way—no, it was literal. One minute she was walking down the sidewalk, humming to herself or admiring a cloud shaped like a fish, and the next? Face-first on the pavement. Palms scraped, knees throbbing, cheeks flushed from the sudden, clumsy betrayal of her own feet.

She never fell with the kind of grace you see in movies. There was nothing soft or cinematic about it. Her arms flailed like she was trying to fly, panic flickered across her face as she twisted midair, and when she landed, it was usually accompanied by a loud thud and an embarrassed little gasp. Stairs betrayed her. Doorways brushed her shoulders like they had something personal against her. And anything made of glass? It practically shattered in fear just being near her.

People rolled their eyes. Joked about bubble wrap. Sighed when she knocked something over or arrived with a new bruise blooming across her shin.

But Rafe never flinched.

Not when she dropped his favorite mug—his favorite—just three days into staying over at his place. She’d stood there frozen, wide-eyed in the silence that followed the crash, already bracing for disappointment. But he just walked in, barefoot and shirtless, hair a mess from sleep, and stepped around the broken pieces like they were nothing.

“You okay?” he asked, eyes on her, not the mug. “Did you get cut?”

Not when she tripped over his gym bag in the hallway—despite him moving it just that morning—and slammed into the side table hard enough to knock down a picture frame and bruise her elbow. She’d winced and hissed through her teeth, trying to blink back the sting. But before she could say a word, he was there again, like he’d felt it happen from the other room.

He crouched beside her, his hands careful as they found her arm, his touch all softness and warmth. Fingers brushed over her skin as if he could draw the pain out, like maybe if he was gentle enough, it wouldn’t hurt at all.

“Easy,” he’d murmur, low and steady, like it was instinct. “C’mon, baby. Let me see.”

And she would. Always. Because no matter how clumsy she felt, how much space she seemed to take up in all the wrong ways, Rafe never looked at her like she was a burden.

He looked at her like every bruise was a reason to hold her tighter.

Like every fall was just another chance to catch her.

There was this one night—cold and blue around the edges, the kind that made the windows fog and the floor feel like ice—when she’d tried to surprise him by making dinner.

Tried being the key word.

She’d had a recipe pulled up on her phone, sleeves rolled to her elbows, and this determined little furrow in her brow that said tonight, I’ve got this. But the universe, as always, had other plans.

She chopped vegetables too fast, knicked her finger, and winced when blood beaded at the tip. In the chaos of trying to rinse it off and bandage it with shaking hands, she knocked a wooden spoon too close to the burner. The end of it blackened and started to curl, and she yelped, swatting it away just before it caught fire.

The chicken—once hopeful and golden in the pan—burned while she was distracted, the skin going from crisp to char in a matter of seconds. Smoke curled from the edges, and she tripped over the corner of the kitchen mat trying to fix it. The world tilted, and she landed flat on her back with a clatter—pan lids bouncing across the tile like coins spilled from fate’s pocket.

That was when Rafe walked in.

He froze in the doorway, one hand still on the knob, the other holding a bag of takeout he hadn’t even mentioned he’d gone out to grab—just in case. His eyes scanned the mess: the scorched spoon on the stove, the trail of flour dusted across the counter, the smell of something definitely overcooked, and her… lying on her back in the middle of it all, dazed and breathless.

She braced for it. The groan. The tired sigh. Maybe even a What were you thinking? She’d heard it from others before. From family. From friends. From strangers watching her knock into life like a pinball.

But Rafe didn’t do any of that.

He blinked at her once. Then slowly, softly, he smiled like she was the best thing he’d seen all day.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, his voice low, already moving to crouch beside her.

She sat up with a groan, cheeks burning hotter than the oven. “I think I burned dinner,” she mumbled, swiping flour off her shirt and wishing the ground would swallow her whole.

Rafe didn’t even glance toward the stove.

Instead, he gently pulled her into his lap, settling her between his legs on the cold tile like it was the most natural thing in the world. His arms wrapped around her, one hand brushing the hair from her cheek, the other steady on her hip.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, quieter now, like the only thing that mattered was her.

“I cut my finger,” she admitted in a whisper, holding it up like proof of her defeat.

He took her hand in his, turning it carefully to inspect the sloppy Band-Aid she’d slapped on. Then he brought it to his lips and kissed just beneath the pad of her finger—soft, slow, deliberate.

“You could burn the whole house down,” he murmured against her skin, “and I’d still think you’re the cutest damn thing on the island.”

And somehow, that made her want to cry more than any disaster in the kitchen.

⸻

Soon, she noticed his home changing in small, quiet ways.

The coffee table with its sharp corners? Gone, replaced by a smooth, rounded one she wouldn’t bruise her knee on when she walked too close. The tall, thin glass tumblers he used to drink from—crystal-clear and easy to knock over—disappeared one day without a word. In their place were thick, plastic ones, wide and sturdy, ones that could bounce off the floor and survive her clumsy grip.

He never said a thing about it. Never made a show of what he’d swapped out or why. He just adjusted the space around her like it was the most obvious thing in the world—like it wasn’t even a question.

And of course, she noticed. She always did. One evening, curled up beside him on the couch, she looked over her shoulder and asked casually, “Did you get new cups?”

Rafe didn’t even look up from his phone. Just shrugged pulling her into his chest more and said, “Didn’t like the old ones.”

But she saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Saw the way his eyes softened when she drank from one without hesitation, without worry. When she tucked her legs under her without wincing from bumping into something sharp or fragile or cold.

Because in a world that often made her feel like too much or not enough, Rafe didn’t just make room for her.

He built it.

Quietly. Intentionally.

Like she was worth bending the whole damn world for.

But no matter how many times Rafe assured her she wasn’t a burden the thoughts still lingered. And it didn’t help that every time they went out people noticed.

It started at a party—one of those outdoor things on the edge of the marsh, where the air smelled like salt and beer, and the ground was soft enough to ruin your shoes. The kind of gathering where everyone wore polos with popped collars, where the music was just a little too loud and the conversations blurred into one big hum of laughter, clinking bottles, and private school arrogance.

She hadn’t even wanted to go. Crowds weren’t really her thing, and uneven ground was even worse. But Rafe had been invited, and he’d said it so gently—“Just come for a little, stay close to me”—and she had.

She’d only wanted to help. That was it. The drinks were running low, and people were getting loud about it, so she offered to refill a few cups. She ducked over to the flimsy folding table someone had set up near the cooler, her arms already full of bottles, trying to balance them against her chest.

But her elbow caught the corner of the table—just barely—and the whole thing wobbled. A single wine glass, the only real one among a sea of plastic cups, tipped and tumbled before she could catch it.

It hit the ground and shattered.

Sharp and loud and immediate.

The music barely stuttered. But the laughter?

That was different.

It cut sharper than the glass.

Someone whistled low. “You seriously let her near glass, Cameron?”

Another voice, louder and smug: “Man’s got a death wish.”

“Does she come with a warning label, or?”

She froze, glass glittering at her feet, the neck of a bottle still clutched in her hand. Her heart beat too fast, cheeks blooming hot with embarrassment as the sound of their teasing rolled over her, careless and amused.

Her first instinct was to apologize. Then to disappear. She crouched down, fumbling to gather the shards with shaking fingers, her vision blurring as her eyes welled up from the sting—whether from shame or frustration, she didn’t know.

But before she could even touch the first piece, Rafe was there.

He crouched beside her without a word, his body blocking her from the crowd like a shield. “You’re gonna cut yourself, pretty girl,” he murmured, voice low and steady like he didn’t hear the people behind him.

He tugged his hoodie sleeve over his hand and carefully swept the broken pieces into a small pile, his movements methodical, calm. Like he’d done it a hundred times before. Like he wasn’t even a little surprised.

She didn’t know what to say. Her hands were still trembling, her breath caught in her chest. She waited for him to snap. To sigh and look at her like she was a problem. To mutter something like Why do you always have to—

But he didn’t.

He stood, slipping his hand around her waist, guiding her away from the crowd with quiet confidence. His palm rested firm and warm at the small of her back, thumb moving in slow, grounding circles like he was soothing her without saying it aloud.

They didn’t go far—just around the side of the house where it was quieter, the laughter and music muffled now, distant. She stood there, arms crossed tight over her chest, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

Rafe didn’t say anything right away. He just looked at her. Really looked. And she hated that his expression wasn’t angry. That it was soft. Understanding. That it held none of the frustration she’d braced for.

Because that somehow made it worse.

It would’ve been easier if he got mad. If he scolded her or joined in on the teasing. Then she could’ve curled in on herself, said I know, I know, and carried the guilt like a stone.

“I’m sorry you have to baby me all the time,” she whispered after he had started driving towards his house.

Her voice was barely audible over the hum of the car, but it felt deafening in her chest. She kept her eyes fixed on her lap, fingers twisted together, nails picking at the skin around her knuckles like maybe if she focused hard enough, she wouldn’t cry.

Rafe glanced over at her, his brows knitting together the way they always did when something was wrong and she was trying to hide it.

He didn’t say anything—not at first. Just flicked on the blinker and pulled over to the side of the quiet road, gravel crunching beneath the tires as they eased to a stop beneath a cluster of trees. Crickets chirped somewhere in the distance. The party was long behind them now, but her shame still clung to her like smoke.

He turned off the engine. Silence settled in the car, thick and gentle.

Then he shifted in his seat, turning to face her fully. One of his hands reached out, finding her bare thigh under the hem of her skirt. His palm was warm and steady, grounding, and when he started tracing slow, lazy circles into her skin with his thumb, she couldn’t help the tiny shiver that rolled through her.

“I like babying you,” he said, his voice low and calm—like he was reminding her of something she already knew but had forgotten in the haze of humiliation.

Her eyes stayed down.

“I like knowing I’m the one who gets to keep you safe,” he went on, fingers moving in soothing patterns. “I like carrying you when your feet give out. I like wrapping your ankle when you twist it. I like kissing the bandages on your fingers even when you pretend you’re fine. And I love being the first person you look for when something goes wrong.”

Her throat tightened. “But I mess everything up.”

“You don’t mess everything up,” he said, firm now, but still gentle. “You just…move through the world like it wasn’t made for soft people. That’s not your fault.”

She finally lifted her eyes to meet his. There was something sad in her expression, heavy and uncertain, like she couldn’t quite understand why someone like him would want someone like her. Someone who broke things. Someone who broke herself.

“Why?” she asked, voice cracking a little. “Why do you care so much?”

And the way Rafe looked at her then—like she was the only thing that ever made sense—nearly knocked the breath from her lungs.

“Because you’re mine,” he said simply.

Like it was the easiest truth in the world.

Like it didn’t need further explanation.

And in that moment, with his hand still warm against her skin, his eyes locked onto hers like nothing else existed, she realized something bone-deep and terrifying and beautiful:

If she didn’t have Rafe, she might have fallen apart a long time ago. She was hopelessly in love with him.

⸻

It was only after everything—the soft moments, the quiet nights, the way he folded his life around hers without ever making her feel like she took up too much space—that people still talked.

It was at a bonfire. Another one of those Kook parties perched on the edge of the water, where the flames reached high into the night and the laughter stretched even higher. Red cups glowed like fireflies, the speakers pulsed with music that was too loud to feel real, and the girls floated like they were born for it—bronzed skin, glassy smiles, perfect balance on heels in sand.

She already felt like a ghost in someone else’s movie.

But she smiled. That gentle, quiet kind she always gave when she wasn’t quite sure how to belong. She let Rafe tug her down onto the blanket between his legs, his arms winding tight around her waist, his chin resting against her shoulder like it was second nature. Pressing kisses to her bare shoulder as comfort.

And for a little while, it felt okay.

Until she stood to grab a drink.

It wasn’t anything dramatic. Just a misstep. The firelight warped the shadows, maybe the cooler was too close to the dip in the sand, or maybe it was just her usual clumsy luck—but either way, she stumbled. Fell forward onto her knees, palms skimming the grit. The cooler tipped. A stack of drinks toppled. A red Solo cup flew like a frisbee and splashed down—sticky, cold soda soaking right through her shorts.

And then came the laughter.

Loud and sharp and cruel. The kind that didn’t even try to pretend.

Someone clapped. Actually clapped.

“Oh shit,” someone wheezed. “Didn’t she trip at the last one too?”

“Man, Rafe, you’ve got your hands full.”

“How do you even function with her around? I bet she costs more in broken glass than gas money.”

The comments weren’t even whispered. No one tried to hide it. It wasn’t a joke told at her expense.

It was a performance.

Her face burned, and her hands shook as she scrambled up from the sand, trying to brush herself off and pretend it didn’t sting. But the tears already pressed hot at the backs of her eyes, and her throat felt too tight to swallow.

Then came Rafe’s voice—low, lethal, and louder than the fire crackling behind them.

“Leave her the fuck alone,” he said, sharp as glass, “or you’ll be picking your teeth out of the dirt.”

The bonfire snapped, sending sparks up into the dark.

And everything went still.

She turned, startled—but Rafe wasn’t looking at her. He was locked onto the source of the voices across the flames, his jaw clenched, hands curled into tight fists at his sides. His blue eyes had gone pale and hard—icy, detached, and cold in a way that made people go quiet.

No one said a thing.

He didn’t have to say it again.

Then he looked at her.

His features softened the second their eyes met. He crossed the sand in a few long strides, touched her face with a tenderness that cut right through the ache in her chest.

“You okay?” he asked, so soft it didn’t match his voice a second earlier.

She nodded. It was a lie. He knew it. But he didn’t call her on it.

“C’mon,” he murmured, tucking her into his side. “Let’s go home.”

When they got to the car she didn’t cry.

She kept her arms folded tight across her chest, legs curled up beneath her, her soaked shorts cold against her skin, the sting of humiliation still echoing behind her ribs.

Rafe didn’t press. Just drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting halfway on her thigh but also holding her hand, thumb rubbing slow circles into her skin like he knew she needed the pressure.

She didn’t cry when they got back, either.

Not when she showered. Not when she pulled one of his hoodies over her head and climbed into his bed, damp hair dripping onto the collar. Not even when he sprawled behind her, watching her quietly as she braided her hair with trembling fingers.

But it cracked anyway.

Her voice broke before she could stop it. Small. Raw.

“I don’t want you to be embarrassed of me.”

Rafe sat up instantly. “What?”

She still wouldn’t look at him. “I know I’m not like the girls you’re used to. I trip, and I spill things, and I embarrass you in front of your friends. Everyone thinks I’m just this… this mess you got stuck with.”

“No one thinks that.”

“They say it to your face, Rafe.”

And something in him changed.

Not anger. Not the kind he’d used at the bonfire.

This was quieter. Sharper. Sadder.

“You really think I could ever be embarrassed by you?”

She finally looked at him, eyes glassy. Silent.

“I’m in love with every single thing about you,” he said, voice rough. “You fall and laugh like it didn’t hurt, even though I know it does. You drop something and say sorry like the world might fall apart because of it. You get hurt and still tell me you’re fine—like it’s your job to make me feel better about it.”

He reached for her wrist, tugging gently until she was in his lap, knees tucked against his sides, her cheek pressed to his shoulder.

“You’re soft in a world that’s made of sharp edges. That doesn’t make you weak, baby. That makes you the bravest person I know.”

The tears finally spilled. Quiet, slow, steady.

“You think you’d be hopeless without me?” he asked, brushing one away with his thumb. “I’m hopeless without you.”

She let herself cry then. Really cry.

And Rafe just held her. Rocked her like she was something precious, something he had every intention of protecting with his life. One hand cupped the back of her neck, the other spread across her thigh like he needed to be touching her, needed to remind her she was there, that she was safe.

“You make me want to be someone careful,” he whispered. “You make me gentle.”

She let out a quiet, broken sound and pressed her face against his chest.

“You make me feel safe,” she breathed.

Rafe kissed the crown of her head, his lips lingering like a promise.

“Good,” he murmured. “Then we’re even.”

⸻

After that night, something shifted.

She still tripped.

She still stumbled into things that didn’t move fast enough to avoid her.

She still had bruises blooming on her shins and Band-Aids wrapped around her fingers like tiny flags of surrender.

But what changed—what really changed—was that she wasn’t afraid anymore.

Not of falling.

Not of the stares or the sighs or the heat that used to flood her cheeks when she messed up again.

And especially not of him.

Because he never flinched.

Even when she caught her foot on a crack in the middle of the street and pitched forward without warning, he was already there—arms like steel looping around her waist, steady hands pulling her back against him before her knees even brushed the pavement.

She’d gasped, heart in her throat, but Rafe just laughed softly behind her ear. “You really out here trying to give me a heart attack, huh?”

She grinned, breathless but safe, and leaned into his chest, not caring that people on the sidewalk were staring.

Or that one of her shoes was now facing the wrong direction.

He steadied her, then tucked her hair behind her ear like nothing had happened. Like it didn’t matter at all. And maybe it didn’t—not when he was there to catch her.

And then there was the night she fell out of his bed.

She’d rolled too close to the edge in her sleep—dreaming about something she’d already forgotten—and tumbled to the floor with a soft thud, limbs tangled in the sheets. The impact startled her awake, a confused noise slipping from her lips as she blinked into the dark.

But before she could even process where she was, Rafe was already up.

He crouched beside her, sleep still tugging at his lashes, his bare chest had marking from his hand from where he’d been lying on his stomach. His hair was a mess, and there was a crease from the pillow pressed into his cheek.

And he was smiling.

That sleepy, amused smile that only came out when he was too tired to fake anything but too in love to be anything but soft.

“Did you seriously fall out of bed?” he whispered, voice rough with sleep.

She groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “I didn’t mean to.”

He just chuckled, brushing his fingers down her arm as he peeled the blankets off her legs and gently scooped her into his arms. “You’re unbelievable,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he carried her like she weighed nothing.

He settled her back into bed like he was tucking something fragile and sacred into place. He smoothed the blanket over her and pressed his forehead to hers.

“I love you,” he whispered, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Even when you’re falling out of furniture.”

She laughed, eyes fluttering closed as he curled around her again, his arms strong and warm at her waist.

And this time, as she drifted off, she didn’t worry about falling.

Because she knew—without a single doubt—he’d always be there to catch her.

[bobozolol]

Yet another TWST OC RAHHHHHHHH—

(Smaller intro for now. Will update later :P)

Twisted version of Sabor from the movie, “Tarzan”!

Standard Information

Name: Ja’Bari Kyrie Johnson Birthday: June 18 Age: 16 Height: 171cm Gender: Male Pronouns: He/They Sexuality: Bisexual Homeland: Sunset Savanna Grade: Freshman Class: Class B (No. 10) Club: Track and Field Club Best Subject: Flying Hobbies: Tattoo Art Pet Peeves: Loud talking/yelling for no reason Favorite Food: Chicken Peanut Stew Least Favorite Food: Cottage Cheese Talent: Sneaking up on people

Brief Summary

Ja'Bari is a Leopard beastman and a first year in Savannaclaw's dormitory. He's much more reserved and quiet than the others in his dorm, and is notorious for his intimidating demeanor, despite his slimmer stature. That being said, he's actually really chill as long as you don't annoy him, and is very loyal and protective should you become his friend.

Unique Magic: Hidden in Plain Sight

Allow's the user to blend in entirely with their surroundings for the perfect strike; silencing any and all sounds to outside ears. More often than not, this ability is used to stalk unassuming victims and allows for the perfect ambush.

Extra Fun Facts and Stuff

Most of the time, he doesn't even have to try to sneak up on people. He just stays quiet and it startles people when they finally notice he's been there the whole time lol.

Dyes his hair a lot; often does his makeup and dresses in Gyaruo fashion and alternative style clothing.

Was one of the contributors to the various students getting injured during Book 2, being able to take them down with more stealth and secrecy.

Shares the same room and class with Jack and considers him a close friend. Jack was originally unsure about how to feel about him since Ja'Bari had no issue helping Leona with his scheme, but the two have grown really close.

Draws small designs on his arms. Keeps a sketchbook full of his favorites.

People used to think Ewe was his brother since their last names sound similar.

(I originally though he was a jaguar but the name stuck so I decided not to change it lmao-)

(+ a quick sketch)

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

marvel men- stoner edition

this is how i think the marvel men would act while you (and them) are high:) please enjoy and get baked appropriately, whichever method you choose stay safe! <3

peter parker

- one word. munchies.

-this man prepares an entire feast before the two of you get high and he gets so hungry it’s not even funny. you pray to get a bite in… but he cooks such good food, so you can’t complain.

-you bring over a desert so it’s even, last time it was chocolate fudge brownies and he kissed the chocolate off your lips

- he’s very touchy, always wanting to cuddle!1!1 more than normal, like he literally sits you on his lap despite there being an empty chair next to him

-you guys watch starwars movies often, or compilations of brain rot that you both know all the references to- you laugh with him for hours to the point you’re silently dying, tears down your face and needing to call a time out

-often times you get high at his place, with lots of low, dim christmas lights, open windows for the nice breeze (and so you can sit on the fire escape) and he always makes sure your spot on the bed is made and has stuffies!

-essentials- fuzzy blankets. his camera (to take pictures of you), fuzzy peaches and baggy clothes

bucky barnes

- super good at rolling. you make him roll everything for you and he pretends to get annoyed but secretly he loves it

- he has a much higher tolerance then you so it’s super funny when you’re already on cloud nine and he’s barley high yet, he makes fun of you

- he’s super protective of you if you guys go out, normally you go to the gas station to grab snacks because it’s close by, but despite this he holds you close and always is slightly in front of you when people are around to shield you

- you guys typically smoke at the little creek by your house and watch the stars or in your room, from out the window

- he really likes your room (mainly your bed) and is constantly insisting on cuddling, which results in you freaking out because he threatens to wear his outside clothes under the sheets if you don’t hurry up

- super calm and relaxed, but still alert to protect you! even if you’re in your home, he’s still a guard dog

- you tend to play with his hair and put butterfly clips in it (he “does not” like this)

- usually if you’re at your house you watch lord of the rings

- essentials- his fancy lighter he likes to show off, chocolate covered pretzels, baggy clothes and a nerf gun (to protect you ofc)

steve rogers

- says “do a flip!” to anyone who is on a high surface, including you

- he always brings his notebook because he claims his ideas flow better when he’s had a few hits, so sometimes he’ll just randomly pull it out and write or draw

- he likes to draw you a lot whenever you guys get high together

- huge video game lover! you guys play Minecraft together at his house and build little villages (and then he brings you to the nether with no weapons so you’re running around freaking out)

- #1 fruit gummy and goldfish lover

- if he slid his hand on your upper thigh and gave you that look he knows drives you wild, you would have 216 nickles. which isn’t a lot but it’s weird it happened 216 times (you fuck after)

- does spot on fuck boy impressions to make you piss your pants from laughing so hard

- essentials- a game, lunchbox snacks, thin blankets (so he doesn’t get hot, he’s picky), and his notebook

matt murdock

- he likes to eat “treats” that you bake, his favourite is the homemade rice kripsies with weed butter

- you guys always cheers them before you eat them after a nice homemade, candle lit dinner

- typically you guys lounge on the couch and like getting stoned when it’s storming so you can listen to the rain on the roof (his high, echoing loft makes it louder:) )

- he’s old fashioned, you guys make a charcuterie board and play board games like chutes and ladders and battleship

- matt like to run you a bath, light some candles and play with your hair while you watch a cheesy sitcom

- lazy make out sessions allll the time, and being perched up on his knee while he rubs your arms and back

- words of affirmation… always. he already tells you stuff all the time but when he’s stoned it’s every two sentences. “you’re so soft and sweet and so good” is a classic, where he rambles on

- just really romantic:) also SEXY! but sexy romantic. he takes care of you and touch is a must

essentials- red wine, sweet smelling candles, his dog eared box game of battleship and some good italian bread

loki laufeyson

- this man… yeah. sex!

- the two of you stretch out with a soft blanket and watch compilations of people acting like idiots and getting hurt, or super bad reality tv to laugh

- i feel like he’s artistic! whenever you guys smoke that side comes out even more, so you guys often paint together- recently you did that trend where you painted your partner in real time

- he’s a cat man so your black cat locks is always with you, curled up in a ball or slung across his shoulder

- he really likes frozen/ cold fruits. like frozen grapes. i feel he would have a deep connection to them and would feed them to you like some greek goddess

- sometimes you guys smoke before a night out in town, and you go see a play or something and eat sooo much popcorn up in those little balcony boxes

- late walks in the city too, to look at all the pretty lights and such! he often snags you a fresh baked good from a vendor to nibble one

- essentials- his cat, his grapes, and his lady!! also he has this really soft pair of sweatpants he likes to wear, black of course! you guys have matching ones

[axelnyx]

Pt2 of trans soap + poly!141

part 1

Fic Name: Angry Again

Chapter 2: Keeping It Tactical

can also be read on ao3

Sleep didn’t come easy when Soap finally dragged himself back to base and into bed. The sergeant laid awake, staring up at the ceiling as he replayed the conversation with his parents over and over in his head. It’s not like it’s the first time they had said things like that to him, but it still hurt. Stirring up old memories and emotions Soap had hoped to leave behind him. Bitterness began to build in his chest, leaving him even more tense and restless.

The night drags on and Soap is still awake by the time Gaz stumbles into their shared room. He lifts his head as his friend enters the room, his fellow sergeant trying- and failing- to be quiet. Soap’s anger quickly fades away into mild amusement as he hears Gaz let out a quiet curse when the Brit accidentally closes the door a bit harder than he had meant to. “Have a bit too much fun, Ky?” Soap teases, his voice startling Gaz slightly. “Tav? Why’re you awake? Thought ya were tired?” Gaz questions, his words slightly slurred as he stumbled over to Soap’s bed.

Soap rolls his eyes fondly, sitting up slightly and reaching out a hand to grab Gaz’s arm and steady him. “Ah was,” Soap replies as he helps his friend settle onto the bed next to him, “But, when I laid down, I couldnae fall asleep. Ye ken how it is.” Gaz simply hums in acknowledgement as he lays next to Soap and curls up next to his fellow sergeant’s side. Soap chuckles as he shifts to lean over the brit, drawing an annoyed huff from Gaz. “Hold on a mo’.” The scot says as he leans down to unlace Gaz’s boots, pulling them off and letting them fall carelessly onto the floor. Afterwards, Soap lays back down, wrapping his arms around Gaz before pulling the covers over them both.

There was no awkwardness as they laid together, the two sergeants having been in a similar position many times before. They spent most nights in the same bed despite having their own separate ones in the room. They found that the presence of someone familiar, someone they trusted, made it a lot easier to sleep and come down from the nightmares that, more often than not, plagued their dreams. A ‘tactical cuddle’ Gaz had called it when Ghost had found the two sergeant’s tangled up together on the couch in the team’s common room after a particularly hard mission. Soap had, of course, backed the other man up. Earning a look from the lieutenant that felt all too knowing. Like he could see something that Soap himself wasn’t even aware of yet. 

“G’night, Tav.” Gaz mumbles, his face buried in Soap’s chest. “Night, Ky.” Soap replies softly, holding Gaz just a bit tighter. The brit is out like a light within moments and Soap finds himself quickly drifting off to sleep as well.

The next morning, Soap is rudely awoken by his alarm. He and Gaz’s position had changed throughout the night. Now, they laid with Soap spooning the other sergeant, his arms wrapped around Gaz’s waist. Soap groans with annoyance, his arms tightening around Gaz as he buries his face in the man’s back, silently hoping his alarm would magically turn off by itself. “Tav, if you don’t turn that damn thing off I’m going to throw your phone across the room.” He hears Gaz grumble, his voice tired and raspy. Soap huffs and reluctantly untangles himself from Gaz, leaning over the brit to hit the dismiss button on his phone that lay on his nightstand. He feels Gaz relax the second the alarm turns off, the other man letting out a sigh of relief. “How ye feeling?” Soap questions with a teasing tone and an all-too-knowing smirk on his face. “Ask me somethin’ stupid like that again and I’ll tell Price you’re the one that hid his cigars.” Gaz says flatly in reply, cracking an eye open to glare up at the scot who was still leaned half over him. Soap chuckles as he climbs out of bed, careful not to jostle his fellow sergeant too much. “Shouldnae have drank so much. Yer lucky we didnae have ta train any rookies today.” He replies, jokingly scolding the other man. Gaz huffs, giving Soap the middle finger before turning over and pulling the covers over his head.

Soap lets out another amused chuckle before walking over to the mini fridge in their room and grabbing a bottle of water out of it. “Here,” He says as he walks back over to his bed. Gaz groans as he pulls the covers back and forces himself to sit up. He takes the bottle of water from Soap’s hand as Soap opens the top drawer of his nightstand and grabs a bottle of ibuprofen, handing it to Gaz as well. He watches as Gaz takes two of the pills and downs half the bottle of water. “Yer gonna make yerself sick,” Soap huffs as he takes the bottle of ibuprofen back and puts it back in the drawer of his nightstand. As he does, Soap sees his phone light up with a notification.

The scot picks up his phone and unlocks it before going to his recent messages. Soap’s mood instantly sours when he sees a message from his father. Against his better judgement, he opens the message, his eyes scanning over the words. “Don’t come crying to us when your teammates see through your little act and abandon you. We’re just trying to help you, but you’re obviously hellbent on making us the bad guys.”

Soap’s hand tightens around his phone as he clenches his jaw. “Tav? You alright, mate?” Gaz’s voice asks in an apprehensive tone. Soap looks over at his friend, seeing the concerned furrow of his brows as the brit glances between Soap’s face and the phone. Soap quickly forces a smile and turns off his phone, setting it back on the nightstand. “Aye. Right as rain. Cannae say the same for ye though.” He replies with a playful jab towards Gaz’s disheveled appearance. “Fuck off, ya twat.” The brit huffs lightheartedly, grabbing one of Soap’s pillows and chucking it at the other sergeant.

-------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Soap manages to drag Gaz out of bed and to the mess hall, breakfast is almost over. The dining area is mostly empty save for a few rookies who woke up late, and the familiar figures of Price and Ghost, who were sitting at the team’s usual table. The two sergeants quickly went and grabbed their trays, piling them with food. Soap makes himself a cup of coffee while Gaz grabs a bottle of water before they both make their way over to the table. Both Ghost and Price were nursing their own respective cups of tea, earning an eye roll from Soap. “Ye brits and yer tea.” The sergeant says playfully as he takes a seat next to Ghost, Gaz opting to take the spot next to Price.

Price lets out a small amused huff at Soap’s quip. “Bit of a late start to the day, sergeants.” Ghost speaks up pointedly as he takes a sip from his cup. To anyone else, it would seem like Ghost was about to scold them, but Soap could see the small upward tilt of the lieutenant's lips. “Isnae mah fault,” The scot complains as he starts to dig into his food, “Someone didnae want ta get outta bed.” He shoots a pointedly look towards Gaz, earning a glare from the other man. Price rolled his eyes fondly at the two sergeant’s antics and the team soon found themselves falling into their familiar rhythm of banter and playful conversations.

About halfway through eating, Soap felt his phone buzz in his back pocket. The sergeant set the cup of coffee he was sipping from down and pulled his phone out. He unlocked it and saw he had gotten another message. Biting his bottom lip, Soap hesitated before opening it. It was from his mother this time. “Stop being selfish and talk to us. We’re your family.” It read. Soap didn’t bother dignifying it with a response as he shut his phone off and put it back in his pocket.

He looked back down at his half eaten tray of food, his appetite suddenly no longer present. Soap used his fork to push around the food on his plate with disinterest.

Was he being selfish? Sure, his parents weren’t exactly the best, but they were still his family. They at least seemed to be trying to make an effort to reconnect. Right? Why else would they call him after all these years?

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with your food, Johnny?”

Ghost’s voice suddenly cuts through Soap’s thoughts. Soap looks up to see his teammates looking at him with varying degrees of concern. The scot smiles as turns to look at Ghost. “Aye, Lt,” Soap replies jovially, “But Ah’ve never been very good wit’ manners.” “Ain’t that the truth,” Price comments as he takes a sip of his tea. The captain’s gaze remained locked on Soap however, his eyes critical as they roamed over the sergeant’s face. Soap rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand, “Ye ken ye love me,” He teases with a playful wink as he stands from the table.

Gaz looks up at Soap with a raised eyebrow. “Where are you going?” He questions the scot pointedly. Soap shrugs his shoulders as he picks up his tray of half-eaten food. “Ah got paperwork tha’ Ah need ta finish.” He replies nonchalantly as he goes to grab his empty mug. He stops short as Ghost reaches his hand out and places it on top of the mug to keep it in place. Soap huffs before turning to give the lieutenant an impatient look.

“It’s a rest day,” Ghost says in a matter-of-fact tone. “Aye, I ken, but ah need ta get it done while ah’m thinking about it or it willnae get done at all,” the sergeant argues. Ghost shows no indication of caring as he continues to give Soap the same flat look, his hand still gripping the mug. “Simon is right, Soap,” Price speaks up, crossing his arms over his chest. Soap turned to the captain with a look of slight disbelief. He can’t count the amount of time Price had gotten onto him for turning in reports late, and now the captain was telling him not to do them? Now that just didn’t make any sense in Soap’s mind. “But, Cap-,” He goes to argue, but snaps his mouth shut as Price shakes his head. “I’m not saying you can’t get any of it done. I know how you are, lad, and you're right. If you don’t get something done while you're thinking about it, it won’t get done,” Price continues.

A satisfied and triumphant grin forms on the sergeant’s face as he looks back at Ghost. His grin grows a bit as he sees the obvious displeasure in his body language, the lieutenant all but glaring at Price. Gaz clears his throat as he faces Price. “As much as I agree with you, Cap, I think Soap should take the day off with the rest of us. Whether he thinks he needs it or not,” He says, throwing a sharp pointed look at Soap as if daring the other sergeant to object. “I wasn’t finished speaking,” Price replies bluntly. He leans forward, resting his arms on the table and giving Soap a stern look.

“You have an hour, Sergeant. That should be enough time to get a bit of your paperwork done. After that, you are to report to the common room. Understood?” The captain orders. Soap’s expression turns serious as he quickly nods his head. “Aye, sir,” He acknowledges. Price nods his head before looking at Ghost and giving the lieutenant a pointed look.

Soap watches as Ghost hesitates a moment, his hand tightening on the mug before he reluctantly lets it go. Soap smiles in delight as he plucks the mug off the table before walking away. He dumps his left over food before depositing his dirty dishes with the others. Afterwards, he turns to face his team. He's a bit caught off guard when he sees them all watching him closely, but quickly brushes it off and gives a playful salute and walks out of the mess hall.

[mystycalypso]

You're fueling my Ok Ko obsession.. /pos :)

Good. I refuse to suffer alone. /pos

In all seriousness, I'm so glad that people are enjoying my special interest. Like don't get me wrong, I'd still be posting this stuff if got zero notes because- I'm insane and need to draw them. All of them. All the time. Forever. But knowing that there are other people in this fandom who like me are hungry for content and are still mourning the show all these years later is so awesome. Heck, being here for new fans is just as, if not even more, incredible. The impact this shows had on me, my sense of humor, my speech (Sorey Kaydin that I've spread it to you), my artstyle, etc is like- so much, and sharing that with others is so fun. And every time I get a reply notification, or an ask, or even a reblog with extra text in the tags, I giggle and kick my feet, yknow like every grown man does lol. One of those "Wow, I'm not just shouting into the void" moments, but more like being on stage during a choir concert and occasionally seeing a friendly face. I see you all and it's only fueling my own drive further I hope you all know that.

(I really need to stop getting so sappy every time I get a nice ask/reblog /j)

Take more snake-man art/headcanons to feed yourselves my friends.

1. Sniff

So, despite literally being a snake, this is a very cat-like thing because he has a regular nose as well. Whenever there's a scent he want to take in more deeply or to remember better, he uses his tongue. (If you didn't know cats open their mouth while smelling to take in scents better, now you do!)

2. Shedding

As my friend who likes doodling Boxman put it, "It's his time of the month" (except it only happens a couple of times a year), and similar to that, it doesn't just last during the actual shedding. Usually, there's a week or so where his skin slowly starts to become scalier, and lighter in appearance (along with his eyes clouding over) his scalp becomes full of dandruff, and it's distractingly itchy. Similar to say, a healing sunburn. He's a lot more touchy during this period as well, it's rather annoying. He will stay mostly in his office with humidifiers on to help the process, the few days after he sheds he's rather euphoric, moving around a lot more and is much more likely to just agree with any idea thrown out no matter how improbable or even stupid it may be.

He usually just throws away his shed but has repeatedly considered using the DNA in it for projects.

3. Coiling

This one's rather simple. Snakes like coiling around things/people they enjoy obviously because of their height difference climbing on Boxman isn't an option, so instead pressing against him, wrapping limbs around while lying down, shoulder touching, and general snaking around him, and even having Boxman climb him are comforting and a love language. A silent way of saying he enjoys his presence and being around him.

And finally...

4. Post situation embarrassment

Like I've said, his snake-ing out seems to be heavily linked to his emotions, especially negative ones. And even normally after lashing out there tends to be a feeling of embarrassment, Especially if it's towards someone you love. And when it's combined with those rattlesnake tendencies, it's even worse. How do you apologize after blowing up at someone and using what is technically a defense mechanism to try and threaten them? What about when it's not a conscious move but just instinct in the moment? Would you have attacked if him throwing a T-shirt on your head hadn't genuinely stunned you? How are you meant to be normal about hissing at the man you have a crush on? Or your ex-girlfriend? Or ever?!

[blackreaderfics]

🎃Wildcard | Jason Todd x Reader🎃

↳ Pairing : TitansDCverse!Jason Todd x Virgin!Reader

↳ Rating : E (18+ minors dni‼️)

↳ Summary : A round of Cards Against Humanity gets a little wild during “Game Night” at Titans Tower

↳ W.C : ~3.4k

↳ A/N : welcome to spooky season. this is my first ever fic for kinktober🧡👻 idk if this is controversial buuut I love that actor’s portrayal of Jason🫣

↳ Tags + Warnings: dubcon elements, oral (male receiving), face-fucking, orgy, stripping, degradation (“slut”), coercion, alcohol consumption (beer), teabagging, bullyish!jason x shyish!reader, reader wears glasses, reader is a virgin, jason is kinda a dickhead lol, side characters (rachel, rose, gar, and conner) are there, for sake of convenience they’re all 21+

Part 2

“Oh come on,” Jason groaned exasperatedly as you set your glasses on the coffee table. “Glasses don’t fucking count!”

After a successful mission and saving the world for the hundredth time, the Titans decided to unwind in the best way they knew how: a night in with board games and beer.

As usual, Jason had tried to make the games a little bit more exciting by adding a “fun twist”. Jenga became a drinking game; drink if you make the tower fall. Uno had become “draw or dare”, you could choose to draw four cards or get off scot-free by doing a dare. 

The “grownups” of the team—Dick, Kory, Hank, and Dawn— had excused themselves to do “grownup things” leaving you and the remaining group of young adults in the living room. Currently, you were now in the middle of another particularly heated game of Cards Against Humanity, the interesting twist being the person with the best card could choose for someone to strip an article of clothing.

Jason had been targeting you the whole night; teasing you for the baggy clothes you always wore. Purposely, just to annoy him, you’d only taken off your accessories and your zip-up hoodie.

Admittedly the clothes you wore didn’t really fit you right. You’d opted to wear oversized sweaters over fitted shirts, and unflattering pants over a more hip-hugging and slimming fit. Before you became a Titan, you were shyer than you were now. It had only been recently when you started to come out of your shell and get closer to your teammates. 

“Be for real. Glasses do so count!” You retorted. You had all but discarded your outer layers and were now left in pants and a tank top. You could take up a few turns with your socks and shoes if you needed to.

“Why do you guys wear so many layers?” Gar piped up. All he had on were his boxers and a single sock. Conner, who was sitting next to him, was equally fucked, only, with no socks as a buffer.

“Because we play idiotic games like this,” Rachel remarked dryly while drawing an extra card from the pile.

You and Rachel were the only ones currently safe from any unnecessary exposure. Rachel did wear a lot of layers, and despite having lost multiple rounds, still looked very much clothed. Rose sat far off on the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal looking on with about as much judgment as a girl with one working eye could. 

“You know, offer still stands. You can still join us, Rose,” Jason addressed the grey-haired, eye-patch-wearing girl without looking up from the cards in his hands.

“Hard pass. I’d rather watch you losers get destroyed.” She then unceremoniously returned to munching on her cornflakes.

Your gaze settled on Jason who’d shed his leather jacket and still remained in a plain black tee and jeans. He was unfairly attractive in the most basic of clothes. And though you hated his playground jibes and dirty humor, you couldn’t help but develop a little bit of a crush on the messy-haired boy. When his eyes caught yours, you could see the wheels in his brain practically turning as his smirk grew wider.

“How about…” He started slowly, “Boys versus girls. If you guys win, then we’ll get naked. If we win, you guys get naked.”

Of course he would suggest that, you thought to yourself glumly. The thought of showing your naked body to your crush didn’t excite you, it only made you more nervous.

“You’re just saying that ‘cuz you’re losing,” you said, masking your anxiety with a chug of your beer, “Conner’s literally only got his underwear left.” 

Conner, hearing his name, suddenly perked up. “For the record, I have x-ray vision. I can already see everything anywa—” Gar nudged him in the ribs to keep him from talking.

Jason shook his head. “It’s no fun if we already know who’s gonna win. Let’s vote on it then. Who here agrees to a wildcard match?” He raised his hand, and predictably the two other boys followed suit. “And who wants to play the way we’ve been playing; the boring virgin Y/N way?” He taunted cheekily.

You felt your cheeks warm again. He was never letting you live down the fact that you had confessed you were still a virgin during a past game of “Never Have I Ever”. You raised your hand and looked around for support. “Rachel,” you hissed desperately when you found she had not raised her hand. 

“Seriously? They suck at this game. It’s not like they’re gonna suddenly win out of nowhere," Rachel whispered back.

“In that case, I’ll play too,” Rose hopped off the counter and plopped on the couch next to you. 

“So nice of you to finally join us,” Jason crooned. “I’ll let you do the honors.” He passed her the deck he’d been shuffling for her to deal and sat back. 

After Rose had dealt all the cards, you looked at your hand. The deck you were playing with was a custom-made deck that Dick had ordered to round out the Tower’s impressive board game collection.

As a collective, you all pooled in ideas resulting in a deck of cards ranging from the peculiar to the mundane; from “taking shots off Nightwing’s ass”; to “Batman’s Worst Nightmare”; to names of each of your superhero aliases including all of the Justice League. For some reason, however, all the cards in your current hand were names.

“Make me laugh,” Rose ordered primly as she set down her card and folded her arms in expectation. It read: 

“If I could fuck anyone right now, I would fuck ______”

“Damn,” Rachel sounded impressed, “that’s certainly one way to start a round.”

Gar immediately threw his card down, followed by Rachel, then Jason. Only Conner and you were left.

“Time’s ticking Y/N,” Jason tapped a nonexistent watch on his wrist. Usually you would fire a comeback at him, but this time you could only frown as you chose your safest option and slid it tentatively over to the pile in the middle. 

“Time’s up, Conner,” Rose said as she gathered the cards. He passed it over face down, obviously not very happy about his choice. 

“Okay, we have a ‘Wonder Woman’,  a ‘Poison Ivy’….” She glanced around the room to see if anyone would give themselves away. “A ‘Robin’—wait...” She barked out a laugh. “I can’t not address this. I pick this one. Who fucking put down Robin?”

The room erupted into fits of laughter rivaling a high school classroom as they watched you sigh and bashfully raise your hand. 

“Oh, would you now?” Jason raised a curious eyebrow at you. 

“I-in my defense, there’s more than one Robin,” you sputtered pitifully before he could tease you further. You watched him stand up and begin to raise his shirt, giving you an eyeful of v-line and toned midriff. “W-what are you doing! I didn’t pick you!” 

Despite being only in a tank top, you felt yourself getting hot. Gar and Conner had equally toned bodies, but they weren’t affecting you the way Jason had been. Just to spite you, he kept his eyes on yours as he raised his shirt as suggestively as possible, bringing it up over his head and tossing it in a pile on his leather jacket.

“Just giving the person who wants to ‘fuck me right now’ a little preview.” He said, smile smug like he was doing charity for letting you see his 6-pack. 

Yea, real fucking Mother Theresa.

“Well, too bad I can barely see it.” You waved a hand in front of your face, “No glasses remember?”

“Come sit on my lap, mama, I’ll give you a closer look.” Jason plopped back on the sofa, abs flexing as he reclined with his legs spread wide, inviting you to sit with a pat on his thigh and a wicked smirk to match.

“Ugh, gross,” Rose made a face but appeared to be humored by Jason’s antics. 

“Anyway,” you interrupted desperately trying to change the subject. “Since I won, technically that means the girls won too. Rules are rules.” 

You had barely even finished your sentence when the boys immediately moved to take off their clothes. Your mouth went dry as they sat nonchalantly before you now, cocks resting against their stomachs.

In any other situation, you’d probably find this extremely inappropriate. They were your teammates. Sure, you lived together and had walked in on the occasional member changing or just getting out of the shower, but you were a bit buzzed off of the booze already, and this was different— you couldn’t help but stare.

“So uh…what now?” Gar’s nervous laugh broke the silence and everyone turned towards him; he blushed under the newfound attention.

“New game?” Conner suggested. He appeared to be just as clueless as Gar but with less of the blushing.

Rose looked over at you and Rachel for guidance, but seeing as neither of you knew how to react, the grey-haired girl merely shrugged back at the boys. “I’m down.”

“Ok, new game,” Jason agreed. “If you can make all of us cum in 10 minutes then the girls can get TV remote control privileges for the rest of the year.”

“All of you including Conner?” You asked brow raised, “He’s a super, that’s not fair.”

“What? It’s not like he has ‘super cum control’ too.”

“Actually, yea I—”

“Don’t answer that,” Jason cut in, annoyed. “Ok fine, I’ll give a handicap. If you can make one of us cum in 5 minutes untouched then the TV’s all yours.”

“Do you think we’re stupid, Todd?” Rachel narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Well…” He paused and tapped a finger to his chin to consider Rachel’s rhetorical question, flinching playfully when she raised her fist to jab in his direction. “Ok ok, but 5 minutes is a long time!”

“I meant the untouched part.”

“Your handicap is you can’t touch us, and our handicap is Logan.” He jabbed a thumb to gesture at Gar who looked like he was meditating to calm himself down. “He’ll probably reach the big ‘O’ before he reaches nirvana.”

“Deal, but if it’s gonna be like that then let’s raise the stakes a little.” Rose countered. “Not just remote control privileges. We get control privileges. Over you guys. If we win, you have to do whatever we say for the rest of the year.”

Jason fished his phone out from the pocket of his jacket and set the timer for 5 minutes. “And if we win, the same for us too.” He started the timer and sat back.

You, Rachel, and Rose made a beeline for Gar, who’d still had his eyes squeezed closed in the middle of the sofa.

“Fuckin’ hell, I should’ve known you’d try ‘n cheat,” Jason grumbled and stopped the timer. “No double or triple-teaming. One to one only and I get to choose the pairs.”

“And why should you be the one to choose that?” You turned toward him, trying (and failing) not to look at his dick. It was long and thick, with a slight curve and a pretty pink color at the tip.

“‘Cuz you wanna fuck me so bad,” he simpered, an impish grin playing on his lips.

“Oh god,” You rolled your eyes.

“Let him choose,” Rose challenged unfazed at Jason’s constant goalpost moving. “Whatever strategy he thinks he has isn’t gonna work.”

Jason ignored her and carried on with making the pairs. “Rachel and Conner, Rose and Gar.” He pointed directly at you, “You and me.”

Upon his directions, the three of you moved to stand in front of your now-designated partners. Finally satisfied, Jason set the timer again and pressed start. Almost immediately Rachel and Rose set to work on their mission, stripping their clothes down to their underwear. You tentatively followed suit, shimmying out of your jeans and kicking them aside. Jason eyed you, fully reclined in his seat with his hands comfortably behind his head. 

“Well, this is gonna be easier than I thought,” He yawned, looking as nonchalant as ever. 

“I doubt your porn-addled brain has ever seen a real woman before, Jason.” The taunts you directed at him should’ve sounded more confident, but instead were dulled by your nervous fidgeting at the hem of your shirt. 

This was the first time you’d ever been half-naked in front of a boy. And not just any boy, but a boy you liked. But the way he always seemed to tease you and make sexually insensitive jokes at your expense made you anxious. It wasn’t overt bullying, but the little comments he would sneak here and there were beginning to eat at you. If you showed him any more of your body, would he make fun of you even more?

“Trust me, I’ve seen plenty,” He assured, “But how ‘bout you jog my memory and demonstrate?” His gaze moved down your chest and back up to your eyes, daring you to take it off. 

You fidgeted again under his stare, feeling a sensation growing in the pit of your stomach. It was a mix of anxiety, embarrassment, and something else you could quite place. When you glanced over to the other pairs, Rachel had already taken her top off and Rose was in the middle of a strip tease. 

“Four minutes,” Jason announced, with a bored expression. 

Feeling a sense of urgency, you pulled off your tank top, exposing your lacy bra. When his dick twitched, both your eyes shifted to the hardening situation in his lap. You could see him fighting the urge to touch himself now, and that gave you a burst of confidence. 

Rachel and Rose were now in between Gar and Conner’s legs, not touching them, but teasing them by blowing hot air on their cocks. You followed suit, with only three minutes left you had to do something. After all, forfeiting your will to the whims of three boys with raging hormones didn’t seem like a fun idea, especially since you knew how playfully vindictive they could get. They’d probably try and make you human furniture or whatever other sick and twisted thing they could think of. You shuddered at the thought of the kind of torture they could come up with.

You sank to your knees and sat between Jason’s legs. You watched him involuntarily swallow and sit up straighter, pulling his hands down from his head to steady himself and clutch at the couch cushion beneath him. 

“Three minutes,” Jason glanced at his phone, but he wasn’t as confident as he was before. If anything, he seemed much more distracted by your presence at his feet.

Satisfied with his change in demeanor, you only smiled at him, fluttering your lashes at him as you brought your mouth closer to his balls. You opened your mouth and exhaled softly.

He hastily brought a hand to his cock—beads of precum already spilling from its tip—and made minute motions with the pad of his thumb to calm himself down. His chest raised with shallow breaths as he looked down at you now, eyes heavily lidded with lust and wanting. 

“Fuck it—” He hissed and without warning, reached his other hand around the back of your head, pushing your nose into his balls as he began to jerk off. Your eyes widened, taken by surprise at his sudden actions.

From where you were kneeling you could already see Rachel and Rose giving their partners full-on blowjobs, completely forgetting the game they had agreed to earlier. The sensation in your stomach moved down to your clothed sex, and you could feel a tingling sensation as he rubbed your face obscenely against his balls, moaning with need.

“Open your mouth —oh fuck— please.” His voice sounded strangled as he held you at the base of his cock, masturbating desperately to chase his release.

You obliged his request, opening up and taking his balls into your mouth, looking up at him as you felt his grip on the nape of your neck tighten. He was clearly getting off from the sight of you beneath him, massaging thoroughly with the flat of your tongue. He brought your head back and, with his other hand, held his cock by the base. 

He groaned again when he saw your lips now glossy with spit. “Open f’me again, baby?” he asked despite the fact that the tip of his cock was already being pressed to your lips. Your cheeks warmed as he let out a moaning “fuuuck” when you opened your mouth again to allow him inside. He pushed your head down deeper to take all of him in, and your eyes began to water as the tip of his cock grazed the back of your throat. 

“You don’t know how fucking pretty you look with my cock in your mouth, Y/N,” he murmured, releasing the pressure off your head for you to catch your breath. He let out a short laugh as if your gasping for air was funny to him.

“Had no idea you were such a fucking slut under all those clothes. How’re you a virgin when you’re takin’ my cock this good, hm?” His voice was gentle and soft but borderline condescending as he spoke. 

Jason brushed away a tear from your eye and leaned over to bring you into an open-mouthed and sloppy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. A string of saliva connected at both of your lips when you separated. 

“Gonna fuck that pretty little mouth of yours. Keep it open,” He instructed. Within seconds he was guiding your head back on his cock, bucking up into your mouth and against your throat. You made a garbled sound, which only seemed to make him thrust harder. 

“Oh fu— that’s so fuckin’ good, baby keep doin’ that,” he moaned, though you weren’t doing much except letting your head loll up and down like a brainless doll with the support of his hand at the back of your neck. 

The living room was now filled with the pleasured moans of the three boys and the gagging ‘gluck gluck’ sounds of the three girls as each of them fucked into your mouths, getting off on the lewdly slick sounds of their cocks pistoning in and out in a relentless rhythm. Your mouths became just another hole for them to fuck.

“Shit—” His hips stuttered; he was close. He brought both hands to your head pushing it down so your nose pressed against his base. “You know how to swallow right, baby?” He grunted. 

You couldn’t respond with words readily—your nose was plugged and his cock clogged your windpipe— instead, your throat closed over his tip, as if a Pavlovian response to his question. He groaned and not shortly after, you felt his hot cum shooting down your throat. 

When his softening cock finally left your mouth, you swallowed his sticky release as best as you could with your punished throat. He swiped some of the cum the had dribbled down your lips with his thumb and pushed it past your lips, making you suck it. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he said breathlessly as he watched you suck his thumb, mesmerized by the way your eyes locked on him. A loud moan from Gar interrupted, making both you and Jason tear your eyes off each other. The green-haired boy was currently stroking his cum onto Rose’s waiting tongue. About a minute later, Conner came too. 

It was only then that you realized that Jason had come the fastest; faster than the “handicap” he’d claimed Gar to be.

“So…I’m guessing that means we won?” Rachel had already started pulling her clothes back on. Since she started dressing, everyone else mundanely followed suit. 

Jason tugged his jeans back on, “Sure. Fine. Whatever, we’re all yours for the next three months,” he sounded less than enthused but still took the time to find your discarded tank top and jeans and toss them over to you as well.

Rose threw her shirt back on and adjusted her eyepatch. “Girls, what are we thinking? Anything we want our new servants to do for us?”

“Hmm…” You tapped your chin in mock thought, giving Jason a sly look that could give one of his own cheeky smirks a run for its money. “Oh, I‘ve got a few ideas.”

©️ blackreaderfics // dividers by cafekitsune & poison-aesthetics

[milolunde]

So, Sonic Forces! … again. Posts like this will be put under Forces!RW from now on, just so I can keep things together.

Following this post, I’ve been thinking about my reimagined Sonic Forces a lot. It’s high up on my list of things to rewrite, but… that list is quite long and is made up of stories that, for the most part, will live exclusively in my head. However, I had so much fun making my last post that I wanted to make another.

I wanted to touch on an aspect of the Phantom Ruby: how it’s able to make hordes of copies at Infinite’s will.

In my mind, the Phantom Ruby makes clones with the same attributes as any other illusion. Those made to witness the illusion will be unable to control feeling, despite reason, what they are witnessing is real. This enhances the Phantom Ruby’s powers, making its illusions able to affect the world as if they were real.

However, copies are different as they can perform most of the abilities their source can, but only if Infinite has a solid grasp on what those abilities are. For example, Chaos remains in his base state because Infinite does not understand his evolution, but he does understand chaos energy and chaos manifestation, so Shadow’s copies is able to harness Chaos Spear (though its nowhere on the scale of a true Chaos Spear. It gathers available chaos energy and turns it into a weapon, but without an emerald the copy has to draw upon the natural chaos energy around it). This is also one of the reasons Zavok is so… lame, for lack of a better word, and why Infinite resigns his copy to being Sonic’s jail keeper.

Why, then, would Eggman have Infinite stop at making copies of Zavok, Chaos, and Shadow? Of course, it’s because he finds them worthy allies as they have all put Sonic in close life or death situations and all have beaten Eggman himself at least once. If they worked together, they would undoubtedly be able to take Sonic out without the need for more manpower.

But… why not copy Sonic himself after his capture? Eggman chooses to copy Metal Sonic so, with Sonic himself imprisoned, having Sonic’s speed and agility on Eggman’s side would be a valuable resource.

————

vvv Continuation + Close Ups/Textless Art vvv

————

Eggman told Infinite they should make copies of Sonic to torment the world they were conquering. Having their precious hero, or at least his likeness, working with Eggman would destroy their moral… Infinite proposed, instead, not only was it too soon to show their cards in Infinite’s full abilities, but that tormenting the world with their hero acting against them would be nothing compared to the psychological play of allowing the world to believe Infinite, a hand in the Eggman Empire, had taken him out for good. Letting a likeness of their hero wander around could work against them, influencing people to gain a “hope against all odds” approach.

While Eggman agreed, it wasn’t until after he had Infinite show him the Ruby could, in fact, make a copy of Sonic. Despite not wanting to, having the copy ended up working in Infinite’s favor. After commenting on the pest Sonic was, the Doctor agreed that, yes, looking at that hedgehog for too long was giving him a migraine; he didn’t want to imagine what having hundreds of him would do… Good. Because Infinite thought Sonic was too annoying to waste his power forging copies of him, anyway.

Infinite looked at the copy. He could appreciate the hedgehog’s indomitable spirit and his ability to ruin things. He could even acknowledge that, yes, he was enough to be the world’s hero.

Until now.

————

Five, closing in on six months after Sonic’s defeat, Tails found himself miles from his live-in workshop, the last one left after Eggman’s takeover. He managed to gather supplies before his home was invaded and made it out by his scruff on the Tornado, but she hadn’t gotten them out without taking severe damage. Still, she flew, and she landed, and Tails could start repairing her to the best of his ability. He didn’t need a plane since the sky had been put under lockdown, but the Tornado was Sonic’s. He’d hate for Sonic to find out he had wrecked the Tornado and done nothing to fix it.

While sorting out the damaged parts, Tails heard something scuff behind him… He tensed before he moved, much too caught up with the Tornado to remember he should defend himself first, worry later, when his eyes caught the source of the sound.

Impossible.

Tails didn’t think it was possible, but he tensed more at the sight of his brother, his big brother, the sight of Sonic walking idly past him. Something slipped past Tails’ lips, maybe it was supposed to be words, but he didn’t know which ones. His big brother stopped. And turned towards him…

————

Gotta cut myself off from my more story-writer way of telling this before I get carried away. Apologies! But, if I’m able to work on this more, maybe there will be a full scene in a full chapter in a full story for this? Perchance…

Shadow would appear and, before Tails could process it, would be fighting the copy down the street. Shadow’s been dealing with Phantom copies since day one of Eggman’s invasion, and he knows Sonic well enough to be able to spot a fake from anywhere.

Tails would, of course, chase after them, leaving behind the Tornado and all of his supplies. As far as he knows, it was Shadow who helped take Sonic down in the first place and he’s ready for answers as to why, and answers on how Sonic got back, and why they’re fighting again, and…! Well, a lot of answers!

By the time Tails gets there, Shadow would have already taken the copy down; it’s on the floor, lifeless, and starting to disappear. Tails would launch himself at Shadow, claws and teeth bared, kicking and scratching out of everything he’s thought and felt about Shadow for the last five months, but Shadow would easily subdue him. Tails is tired, and hungry, and most of all he’s devastated.

Once Tails is able to hear anything Shadow tries to tell him, he would tell Tails about the fact Eggman is generating copies. Shadow has a certain soft spot for Tails, especially in his current situation, so while the scene would be to get information about the Phantom Ruby to Tails, it would also serve to give him the comfort he needs, and closure that no, Shadow didn’t hurt Sonic and, no he’s also not looking for him but, if he hears anything, he’ll let the kid know.

————

I don’t know if I’ve said it, but I’ve got a biiiiig list of media I’ve rewritten entirely in my head for fun and that usually means I have the most barebones chapter layout for them and even some ‘first drafts’ for certain chapters; like this hypothetical chapter!

That’s it, really. I had fun talking about Forces and showing how I would do things! I tend to get carried away a lot when I’m writing about the things I like. I really didn’t plan to write this post out the way I did. Hopefully the difference between my presenting the concepts and writing them out for a more entertaining read of what I would do wasn’t too confusing.

[takemebacktowheniwassane]

i've been seeing a lot of falsettos posts recently deconstructing the fandoms beliefs and firstly

holy fuck thank you, i try to steer clear of fandom (and fandom-izing thereof) drama but this is getting a lot more visible recently so here's some little tidbits for you

whizzer brown is not an unflawed character!

okay so i haven't seen enough dissecting this but!!! in the chess game!

the whole point of marvin using that game to determine the ending of their relationship is because he suspects whizzer is constantly deceiving him and wants to prove it.

whizzer LITERALLY proves him right!

he asks marvin to help him along (yes i know he says he doesn't want help, hear me out, it's a little more complex than that) and takes advantage of the fact that marvin is- like- infatuated with him.

he draws him into a sense of false security then starts throwing accusations at him ("since you need a man!" "what?" "who's 'brainy'," "or witty, move.") until hes able to win, which he does with ease because he's been using marvin having this idea that he isn't smart against him.

of course, marvin's side of this isn't the best either but honestly, for once the fandom should focus on a different character when they think 'insane asshole'. typically we should also probably change our perspectives a little to be more unbiased cuz fr guys, this is getting really.. annoying.

i understand he's the most visibly flawed but that doesn't excuse constantly picking the worst parts of this musical (without other context, btw) to use against him.

and this post certainly isn't here to excuse anyone either i've just got a lot of opinions that i wanted to share while falsettos is.. trending? right?

2. marvin's (headcanoned but still somewhat researched) autism

this one isn't brought up as much but when i do see it around, it's kind of a skewed viewpoint.

while rewatching bits of the proshot i realized a lot of different neurodivergent traits that he shows-

he's helpless during I Never Wanted to Love You and is childish and regressive when he's upset (not every autistic person is like this either, i know this is a bit of a touchy subject so i just wanted to add that).

usually when people depict it i see it either toned down or joked about which is fine when all in good fun, and when its done respectfully.

not here to attack anyone, just here to point it out and say that yes :) he most likely is neurodivergent, but despite that his actions aren't condoned. he's still kinda a dick who needs to get his shit together

3. ..the lesbians also have shit going on?

just putting this out there- I DON'T SEE ENOUGH FOR THE LESBIANS! OR TRINA!

the girls in this musical are like thoroughly neglected and i think that's kind of shitty just assuming the fact that william finn put them in to demonstrate how gender roles put people in degrading positions (and he even makes it more prevalent by showing marvin as something like a misogynistic character who forces whizzer into more feminine roles to show the audience what woman have to/had to go through in society).

anyways, the lesbians aren't just there guys. they have a plotline too. in Something Bad is Happening, you derive a lot from charlotte singing about the outbreak of HIV/AIDS and realize how she operates on a daily basis (she's passionate about her work and takes every bad day as a hit to her life and career, explaining in a way that as a black, jewish, lesbian, FEMALE doctor in this time, everything that goes wrong is immediately brought down on her so much more than it would as any straight white male pharmacist-).

cordelia on the other hand has to handle the fact that her girlfriend is so adamant about her work ethic that she can't actually be super present in their relationship at times like that.

but either way she still sticks by her and is constantly trying to be supportive and endearing despite feeling like she's not amounting to her gf who's basically a hero in her eyes.

i kinda just wanted to bring that up because they mean a lot to me and they don't get enough love from the fanbase, thank you for listening to my TED talk <3

[intestinesinbows]

ㅤ ㅤ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀GRAY, Colt

Colt x Reader

⏕⏕ꔫ⏕⏕

TW ♡ none unless you count guns as one

note | this is from a request ! Also I wanna give a heads up I will not be writing anything sexual about Colt or Natalie Rupnow ! If anyone does request anything like that in the future it will be deleted TωT

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⏕⏕ꔫ⏕⏕

Boredom, boredom, & more boredom was what your day consisted of. For August it was rather unsuspectingly hot today and school wasn't making it any better.

♡

Sitting at your desk felt like hell itself. Checking the time over and over again and happening to shift in your seat wasn't fun. You just wanted it to be over.

♡

You rested your head in your hand just to make the position you were in slightly less uncomfortable and annoying despite knowing it wouldn't do much.

♡

Out of boredom you drabbled on the piece of paper in front of you which was the assignment you were supposed to turn in but you couldn't help but hold onto it for a few more minutes just to draw cats and whatever you liked.

♡

Though you got this weird gut feeling.. like you couldn't help but feel someone was watching you, before catching a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye.

♡

You turned towards it to see your friend Colt trying to get your attention. You both usually sat together as that was your assigned sitting. As the teacher spoke you leaned in and let him whisper what he needed to say in your ear.

♡

"I got something cool I want to show you." Were the simple words that came out of his mouth. You shrugged it off not thinking much about it but the situation was much more drastic than you expected.

♡

You continued doodling on your paper when Colt nudge you. You raised your eyebrow at him and he pointed to your paper. The teacher was too far into his lesson for him to notice the both of you so you shared it with him.

♡

You let him borrow a few markets and you drew on the paper together but not a lot for it to cover your answers but enough so that on the sides they were filled.

♡

You both had to lean in together so you could share the paper so obviously both of your shoulders would brush up against one another.

♡

As you both drew your colorful disasters the bell had rang which caught you off guard since you weren't keeping track of the time anymore.

♡

You accidentally bumped your head against his when trying to get up from your seat completely forgetting how close the two of you were. It was a gentle bump but still you muttered a soft apology.

♡

After putting your stuff away and grabbing your bag you and Colt decided to go to lunch together like usual but this time there was a twist.

♡

You had both agreed to sneak out in the back of the school so that you could go on your phones and retreat back into the school when it was time for lunch to end.

♡

Sneakily you both hid yourselves in the crowd full of kids in the hallway before making it to the back of the school.

♡

Once you were out you followed Colt to an area where cameras weren't visible to catch the both of you. Aka your secret hide out which wasn't a secret it was just a place away from the school.

♡

Despite trying not to get caught the two of you already knew the cameras inside the school had captured both of you but at least for now you just wanted to lay low so the teachers wouldn't find the two of you.

♡

Walking around the deserted area you were in which was mainly an area with trees colt spoke up. "Oh shit wait a sec-" you stopped your movements and colt placed his bag on the ground. He knelt down to it and looked up at you.

♡

"Please do not tell anyone I have this, please." His tone was serious and he was looking at you very intensely. What could it be? "Um, okay... I promise I won't." You responded.

♡

He thought for a few seconds before making up his mind and pulling a gun out. Your eyes widened you were almost a little bit excited by seeing it. "Woah. How did you get that?" You asked in amazement. He simply shrugged and smiled.

♡

"My dad." He didn't specify whether his dad gave it to him or if he stole it from his dad but either way you didn't really care. He had a gun and that was cool to you. He gave you it and you looked at it curiously.

♡

It sure as hell was real and in a stupid sense of fascination you pointed it up to your face with your finger on the trigger. He pushed it away from you with a chuckle. "You don't wanna die just yet right?".

♡

You simply laughed at his words and he took the gun from your hands and put it in his bag. Checking the time on his phone it was best you both headed back to the campus.

♡

The sun beamed down on both of you getting you both a little sweaty as you walked in the short grass. "So are you trying to shoot up the school or something?" You said jokingly. He laughed and scratched the back of his neck.

♡

"No definitely not... its for protection."

[myshollow]

Actually thought I'd share some reimagined Benson lore considering i was planning to with that reference drawing and just..forgot. I think out of all the main characters, his lore is the most straightforward. Here's a bit of what to expect from him (serious plot wise):

In the overall timeline, naturally he'd learn to be less uptight and more fun-loving. This not only comes from his time with Mordecai and Rigby, but from other characters like Pops, Muscle Man, Pam, etc.

Something I want to accentuate is that Benson is actually relatively understanding and fun even at the start. I feel people sometimes forget that Benson was never really a grumpy, fun-hating, douche (at least not all the time), he genuinely secretly liked Mordecai and Rigby, and has a good relationship with the rest of the guys. (Just look at a Skips focused episode like Over the Top or Skips Strikes. He's actually the one initiating a lot of the silly silly things). Yes his development will involve him being more consistently fun and chill, but it's not because he inherently lacked it in the first place.

The main problem Benson has from the start is that he doesn't respect himself. He thinks he's a dead end, washed up middle aged loser who's done nothing with his life (..his crash out in busted cart lol). Every endeavor he's taken has just resulted in failure, him being in a band, him being a stick hockey pro, even him being a normal nerd. Either way he can't seem to be happy with himself. And while he has his friends at the park, and even gets Pam as a partner, that doesn't fix this issue. Sure Mordecai and Rigby being dicks makes him lose his mind, but it's not what he tends to be truly angry over. In his eyes, they're just kids who are learning and growing, despite how annoying they can be (hence why he's usually apprehensive to actually fire them). What's his excuse for being a nobody?

So Benson’s main development is learning to just be kinder to himself, and be more comfortable with his jagged past. He can make the best of where he's at now, and not worry about being someone “cool” or someone who's accomplished a lot (bc he's already those things :)) He can be more at one with the hobbies and interests he had put to rest, especially with the help of others. He can get back into stock hockey/drum playing with the help of the general park crew. He can indulge in his more nerdy/dorky interests with Pam’s influence. He can truly be himself. All while still being the park manager, because despite the grievances he has with the job, he genuinely loves the park, and wants to continue to support it.

[nemisisnemi]

Happy Birthday Nemi!

Happy birthday to the most annoying and nuke-able sona ever!

This will function as his birthday post since I'm too busy with finals to properly celebrate </3

everyone's least favorite kitchen exploding mf is getting a full body design!

yes, Nemi will finally have one of those twst oc intros :O

can you believe that it's their 3rd official redesign already? It felt like just yesterday when Nemi became my blog's "face"/brand, and now I'm already improving upon the initial design :,)

nemi rambles ab old art + some unposted Nemi art below!

This was Nemi's first appearance on tumblr and also my pfp when first starting out! It was made in reference to something with @spookyavenuestreet's Augustino/ram ram!

I also think i drew this piece over a year ago? It's really shocking on how much my art style has changed since then

Nemi's first ever design! I like how you can immediately tell it's one of my older pieces from my art style-

I'm glad it changed since there's too many sparkles and kind of difficult to tell what they're looking at

ONTO THE NEXT PIECE!

These two pieces are references to how Nemi likes to break into Diasomnia (via the window) to visit Augustino! I'm pretty sure Spooks has a corresponding piece of art to this piece lmao

Oh past Nemi, you had no fear and just fought with Diasomnia students just for funsies :D and also Malleus too apparently-

Now this one! It's a reference to how before all the lore was really "coherent" and just fun shit, they didn't get along with Sebek despite being friends with Augustino!

The hands were originally an idea from spooks! something something mythology?

It got scrapped in the end tho. Was fun for the short bit it lasted!

Ah this one!! :D This was my pfp for the longest time before I changed it to the one I have right now! (That'll change whenever I finish making my 3.0 model)

It's the Nemi you're all probably familiar with! Purple hair, a mischievous smile, and with the iconic hand positioning lmaoo

My current pfp! (for now) The hair got more blue/indigo with pinkish tips :D

There's different versions, but i never ended up using them :(

Here are the different versions! I somehow lost the initial file and couldn't be bothered to put my eye moles back in

Now some art I don't think i ever posted!!

It's a traditional piece! I messed up on the hair since I didn't have the right colors :(

It's a cute simple piece of Nemi messing with Leona nui in class! As you can see on the pieces of paper, Nemi doesn't really pay attention in class...

You can typically find them in detention if they don't have any class or a shift at the Mostro Lounge!

More traditional art! and also more Leona nui bullying (affectionate)

It's a lot harder to draw on paper after only doing digital art for a while. This piece and the one before were pieces I drew during my senior yr of high school!

I think the only piece as of all the drawings so far that weren't made during high school is my current pfp! That piece was made during the summer after I graduated (well, more like skipped my graduation and just collected my diploma after but still-)

HI3RD AU!!!!

Here are some of my HI3rd Au Nemi pieces! Anything related to that au is just angst- I still don't feel like explaining the lore in detail so I'll just rapid fire it:

-Junqiao is a herscherr

-Junqiao possessed Nemi (via gem)

-Junqiao is a homewrecker bc he slowly made Leona fall for him while possessing Nemi's body

-Nemi got forced to become a valkyrie against their will after regaining a bit of control from Junqiao

-end game plan is for Nemi to give up their body and consciousness over to Junqiao since they no longer have anything to really "fight" for as Leona loves Junqiao now instead of them :D

-all Nemi wanted was a simple life, no valkyries, no honkai, just a simple life by Leona's side (but even that is a pipe dream eh?)

More Hi3rd au pieces :D

The first piece got worked on a bit more after I posted it originally! And I dont think I ever posted anything about the other one? I might make it into a fully rendered piece if I ever get the chance and motivation!

Spirit Animal AU! on RIOFY

this is by far the happiest Nemi has ever been in any Aus I put them in

whore era with those exposed shoulders and chest opening /j

rapid fire lore:

-something something pacts n shit with Leona & Junqiao

-learns to be more open with themselves in fashion choices via the whores (Leona & Junqiao)

-destructive trio poly qpr! (Nemi, Leona & Junqiao in this au)

-eventually gets forcibly "sibling'd" after meeting Viz & Yuhua ( @twistedwonderlandshenanigans & @distant-velleity 's ocs)

And this is my most recent drawing of Nemi! (besides the 3.0 model redesign) I never posted this bc I ended up hating how the full body looks. The body pose is just really awkward and stiff; a complete 180 from how it looked in the sketch phase

Sorry none of the pieces are really in order from oldest to most recent! :( It's kinda difficult to track down which ones came first for the older pieces, but I think you can kinda tell by the hair color, hair length and most obviously; my art style

Nemi's hair has been slowly shifting from purple to a more blue tone! It's also slowly getting longer, but I think it's going to settle around the shoulders!

MOOTS' ART!!

we start off strong with spooks' art!

.....THE JAR (sobs) it was a joking comment ab shaking or putting Augustino in a jar. Then spooks decided to literally draw it. ahaha....

another spooks art! this was for ram ram's birthday! and Nemi made an (uninvited but welcome-)appearance :D

This piece is an art req that got answered! The one who drew this is the very very lovely: @amatsuchan-eiliniel !!!!

THANK YOU AGAIN AMATSUUUUUUUU YOU COOKED AND AIUGHDGHJFGGKGBFHDHF NOM NOM NOM

thank you for not forgetting Nemi's eye moles despite the fact that i forgot to add them when drawing initially hgfdhbfhg-

Now onto some silly ones from the Leona simping serv- i mean The Prince's Uprising zine server :D

These are by soru from The Prince's Uprising zine server... hi @le-monchou

its still all very funny but also terrifying just thinking about how you drew Nemi dying in a fucking glue trap lmao

AND FINALLY: RATMI.

This is by the lovely @aprityormarj

something something nemi ratatouille and this was made

yes. this is Nemi as a rat. Ratmi at your service~

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That finishes it off for Nemi's bday post!

Hopefully I remember to schedule this post for December 7th bc that's when my sona's birthday is!

Irl nemi's bday on the other hand isn't until the 26th! I'll hopefully be making a birthday piece for both Nemi and irl nemi by then!

[lannisterdaddyissues]

1, 13, 15 for the mi ask game!! <3

@airlocksandaviaries @sevenseasofyeet @guidonian-hand

1. What is your favorite M:I movie? I change my mind every time I watch one, but overall, I think 4. It's the one I rewatched most when I was younger!

13. If you were a member of the IMF, who would you be? A field agent? Analyst? Director? Serious answer: I'd probably be a nurse hired to treat injuries when the field agents come back from their missions, since that's my job IRL. Fun answer: Analyst, because I want to be Brandt. Pay me to complain about how people do things and contribute nothing of value to the team otherwise <3 oh wait that's already what I do online-

14. Do you have any M:I headcanons? YES but they're all fluff and shitposts I'm so sorry guys I forgot all the serious ones so I'm just going to throw a bunch of bricks through your window one by one:

Ethan:

Secretly loves bubble baths but rarely indulges in them unless forced

Watches Benji and Luther play video games a lot despite understanding none of it, he has fun anyway

Back when Ethan and Julia were married he used to make themed lunches for her every day 🥺

Draws caricatures for fun

Benji:

Auteur cinephile and really annoying about it oh my god shut up we're watching a movie we don't care shut up <- Brandt

His secret side job that funds his phat pro gamer rig in Rogue Nation is drawing furry porn commissions for people on Twitter I'm sorry for this one I really had to post it I'm sorry I truly think I'm right though I'm so sorry please block me

Luther:

If he weren't an agent this man should have been a restaurant critic because boy howdy does he have opinions about everything he eats and everyone else will hear them

He and Brandt go fishing together in their downtime. They bicker the whole time and catch nothing because they both suck at it. It's enrichment for them

Ilsa:

She's the one who collects souvenirs from their trips around the world. And those souvenirs? Cool rocks. She has a cool rock collection and she is very proud of it. I cannot stress enough how important Weird Girl Ilsa is to me, you simply must see my vision on this one

She would love Furbies sorry I'm being cursed again but you know she would

Brandt:

He likes birdwatching, which sounds like a really boring milquetoast "if beige was a guy" hobby and it is which is why I gave it to him but he's actually really passionate about it and he accidentally gets everyone else into it too, so they'll be out on a mission and Ethan will randomly be like "whoa, a yellow-crested sparrow!" and Brandt will be like "what where. Show me the sparrow. Yoooo that's nice!" (The squad needs to slow down for five seconds and appreciate some wildlife ngl. I think it would be better for them than therapy <3)

He can rap like nobody's business. You wouldn't think this man has ever listened to a Kanye song in his life but he has the Monster rap tattooed behind his eyeballs

His movie taste is so bad though oh my god Brandt why is your most-watched movie on Netflix Gnomeo and Juliet. Brandt

This guy is so sucks but I love him so much god I love him why do I think about him so much. @parlaypeach this is your fault

Jane:

Animal lover but really weird about it in the way that she loves the cute ones and the weird freaky ones equally

She will belt out the entirety of Hamilton in the shower if you give her enough time (she's terrible at singing though. Narrative foil moment with Taylor Swift I mean Taylor Swift no wait I meant Taylor Swift I mean. Sabine Moreau)

Hunley:

This man is so obsessed with cat videos, someone stop him

Goofy boss of all time TO ME. Proud owner of no less than 30 #1 Boss mugs courtesy of the squad, and he loves every one of them

He did not die because I miss him :'(

Grace:

Grace is the name Ethan and Julia would have given to their daughter if they had children. It's not Grace's real name but it still feels important for some reason

🥲 I made myself emo guys

Oh also she never learns how to drive. She graduated from the Ethan Hunt School of Clown Car Tomfoolery and is never getting that second degree

The only person on the team she's never lifted anything from is Paris because she's afraid to get her fingers cut off

Halloween lover. She's not a big holiday person but she LOVES Halloween

Paris:

Not a headcanon but do you guys think she would like Hello Kitty. Do you think Paris Missionimpossible would fw Hello Kitty. Please say yes this is extremely important to me

(She likes Hello Kitty)

It takes her a while to find hobbies she likes because her brain isn't wired for it since she's only ever had to do things to survive, but I think she would be really good at origami. She gets completely absorbed in it and no one is allowed to talk to her while she's doing it because it helps her concentrate. Everybody has received little origami gifts from her at one point ;w;

Alt fashion queen but we all knew that

Degas:

If Ethan is Grace's spy dad and Benji is Paris's spy dad I have decided Donloe and Tapeesa are now his parents :') He calls them regularly on a burner phone and has to join them for dinner every few months :'))))

Knows lots of pop culture. Grace and Paris know nothing about pop culture so he takes it upon himself to teach them about it. He and Benji go head to head at bar trivia night and it's always a toss-up who wins on a given evening

15. What's your favorite M:I ship? Ethan x Julia <3 followed closely by Ethan x Ilsa. But really I don't know they're both everything to me ;-;

20. In which M:I movie do you think Tom Cruise's hair looked the best? Objectively Fallout, subjectively Rogue Nation because I like his anime boy fringe.