#i find figure drawing fun because of how quickly it gets done

[ghostlysleuth]

I follow you on twitter & all I gotta say is, I love the diversity in your drawings so much, I hate when people make girls all stereotypes & your art makes me feel so comfortable it’s like a warm feeling not to mention your nsfw art. It doesn’t just show the list it shows the love & affection each character has for eachother it shows how intimate & hot the moment can be but also sweet? I’m not sure I love your art too much it really makes my day to see it, but any tips on anatomy?♥️

thank you so much!! i totally get what you mean by a list, that really is what diversity can feel like sometimes. my weight and figure have fluctuated so much over the years and i've gotten enough shit from family about eating habits and how chubby i've gotten, to the point of dysmorphia, and turning to art (and not to mention seeing the vast majority of fat butch rep) to remedy it has done wonders for my body image, and i'm really glad people like how i do things.

in terms of tips, as someone who went to school for this sorta thing, i'm gonna try to make this as accessible as possible aka free resources.

timed figure drawing!

legit, you gotta draw naked people posed in intricate ways. there's literally no avoiding it, you have to draw from life and not from tutorials. obv, i'm not saying go out and attend a life drawing course -- that's expensive shit -- so here's a few options:

i use a site called quickposes, since most figure drawing galleries require subscriptions.

you can set a timer for how long you want on each pose/reference. i recommend challenging yourself with shorter times as it helps you to get rid of any hang-ups about getting the anatomy exactly right. the drawing's got to get done by the end of the timer, don't focus on the details. just draw, be done with it, move on to the next drawing.

there's also a youtube channel that we'd use in class when a model couldn't show called new masters academy and they have a bunch of timed daily drawing exercises.

as a general rule, don't lean on the amount of time you have. what you're wanting to do is get a FULL PICTURE on your paper as soon as possible, regardless of a long or short time. get the full figure onto the paper then use the rest of the time to fuss over details, shading, editing, etc.

do studies!

kinda similar to the last one but in the more time-consuming sense.

use pinterest. it has a lot of uses for a lot of things but i use it quite a bit for both anatomy refs and costume design inspiration. this is legit what my home page looks like now because of it.

here's a board i made on anatomy, pulling from different body types; obviously i get a little gay wid it, but there's a verrrryyyy clear lack of certain body types in a lot of body refs like muscular women, fat women, just overall people who higher fat content than the lean, almost 0% fat of the figures seen in most tutorials and galleries:

this is where pinterest really shines because you can find literally everything on it.

in particular, there's an account called character design references, that is basically a stockpile of references for artists. i wouldn't normally recommend artist tutorials when it comes to wanting to learn anatomy because it can get a little echo-chambery (side-eyes the male vs. female tutorials that float around on twitter all the time) but there are actually some boards that have genuine studies on the human form, even from a medical point of view.

LITERALLY JUST DRAW A LOT.

I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH IT'S GONNA TAKE A LOT OF TIME AND PRACTICE TO GET TO A CERTAIN LEVEL OF SATISFACTION.

like that's it, full stop, draw often. if you're feeling rusty, go back to basics. if you're art blocked, go back to basics. if you're bored, go back to basics.

[fanficgirl429]

Mike has a feelings for you (fluff)

Prompt: While babysitting Abby she tells you that Mike has a crush on you

Pairing: Reader x Mike Schmidt

----

“I can’t believe I have to fucking work today,” Mike says, pulling his gray security shirt on. “I told them I can only work during the week!”

Your best friend scrambles around the living room, looking for his phone, keys, and wallet- all of which are in various places. You are currently sitting on the couch, watching all of this unfold. He was always leaving his items in various places. How many times had you told him to leave them in the same spot?

He finds his keys and phone and shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Where is my wallet?” he says, running his fingers through his already messy brown hair.

“Did you check your room?” you ask.

He quickly leaves the room and returns moments later with his wallet in his hand.

Mike let’s out a sigh and looks over at you. “Are you sure you’re ok watching her? I can always call Max.”

“I don’t mind watching her at all,” you tell him.

You stand up and walk over to your best friend. Wrapping your arms around his waist you pull him into a tight hug. He instantly relaxes and wraps his arms around you.

“You have no idea how amazing you are,” Mike tells you, smiling.

You laugh as Mike takes a step back and towards the front door.

“Thank you so much for watching her,” Mike calls. “I owe you!”

“Hey Abs,” you say, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “What are you drawing?”

Abby smiles and passes you the sheet of paper. There is a white house with a large tree and three people standing out front. A man, a woman, and a child.

“You have to tell me who everyone is,” you say, pointing to the three people.

Abby stands up and comes to sit besides you on the bed. Her small hand points to the man on the page, “That’s Mike,” she moves her hand to the woman, “you,” and points to the child, “and that’s me.”

You weren’t shocked that you were drawn- Abby tended to draw the three of you alot. Mike and you had been best friends since middle school and you loved Abby like she was your little sister. Most of her drawings were things the three of you had done together or what she wanted to do with the two of you.

“And who’s house is this?” you question.

“We all live there together,” Abby states.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” you reply.

“Yea! Because you and Mike are going to get married!”

Abby’s comment throws you off. Not once has she ever asked about your and her brother's relationship.

“What makes you think we’re getting married?”

“Because Mike has a crush on you,” Abby says, shrugging.

You laugh. “No he doesn’t.”

Abby nods her head. “Yes he does. He says your name a lot in his sleep.”

“But that doesn’t mean he has a crush on me,” you tell her.

Abby’s silent for a moment then answers quietly. “You make him smile and laugh and he’s always happy when you’re around. He’s not like that around anyone else.”

Her answer surprises you but kids are very perceptive. Instead of pressing any further, you tell Abby to start to get ready for bed.

“Do you have a crush on Mike?” Abby askes as you tuck her in to her bed.

“Oh…um…yea, I do,” you tell her.

Little does Abby know but you are in love with her brother.

Abby smiles and nods and you turn the light off, closing the door behind you as you walk back to the living room.

—-

Abby falls asleep quickly and you sit in the living room watching tv. Your mind keeps going back to conversation with Abby. Does Mike really have a crush on you?

Abby doesn't know it (well maybe she figured it out) but you’ve had feelings for Mike for a long time. You loved your relationship with Mike and didn’t want to jeopardize it so you never made any indication or moves towards him. You had hoped that maybe he would be the first one to make a move but he never did.

All of the sudden it hits you, how tired you are. You stand up from the couch and stretch and slowly walk back towards Mikes room. This isn’t the first time you had slept over. Many times after Abby had gone to sleep, you and Mike would stay up together, hanging out. At first Mike insisted that you sleep at his house but now he didn’t even have to say anything- you would just crash on his bed, next to him.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep and a few hours later, the bed dips slightly as Mike lays down next to you- waking you but only for a brief moment.

—-

The sun peeks through the curtains in Mikes room and the smell of bacon and pancakes wake you up from your sleep.

The spot on the bed next to you is disheveled -the only evidence that Mike has slept there.

As you lay in bed for another minute, you hear voices drifting down the hallway. You can’t make out what they are saying but you can tell it’s Mike and Abby.

Standing up, you walk into the hallway but hang back for a moment- waiting to see what they are talking about.

“Did you know that Y/N had a crush on you?” Abby tells Mike.

“How do you know?” you hear him ask.

“She told me,” Abby states matter of factly.

It’s then that you decide to walk into the small kitchen. Abby and Mike are both sitting at the small kitchen table, eating bacon and pancakes.

“Morning,” you say, walking over to the coffee maker.

“Morning,” Abby and Mike say at the same time.

Mike's hair is sticking up in various directions and he looks like he just woke up. His dark t-shirt hugs his frame and you know he’s wearing his favorite pair of flannel pajama pants.

“I’m going to go draw,” Abby says, leaving you and Mike alone in the kitchen.

Mike watches as you pour yourself a glass of coffee but don’t turn around to face him.

“So,” he begins. “Abby told me something interesting…”

“And what was that?” you question, although you already know the answer.

“She said that you have a crush on me.”

“Oh. Why would she say that?”

“She said that you told her you did.”

You turn around to face your best friend, your eyes locking with his. His cheeks are slightly pink and it makes you feel better that this conversation might be slightly embarrassing for him as well.

“I-uh-,” you stammer.

Mike stands up and walks over to you and your back presses against the counter. He slowly moves his hands to your waist, waiting to see how you’ll react. When you don’t move away, he grips your waist, his brown eyes locking with yours.

“What if I told you that I had a crush on you?” he says.

A soft smile crosses your lips and Mike reaches up and places his hand against your cheek, his thumb moving in small circles.

You move your arms up and snake them around his neck, waiting for him to make the next move. His body is pressed against yours and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest.

Within moments, he leans down and brushes his lips against yours before pulling away.

“Why did you stop?” you tease him.

He smiles as his presses his lips against yours and they move together, almost as if the two of you had done this before.

[ikimaru]

when and how did you find your art style? has it changed much over time?

I'm gonna go on a tangent here bc it's pretty interesting for me to look back on aksjd

I don't think it was really linear in a point A to point B kinda way, I still got it more or less where I wanted it to but I can't say it felt streamlined

my first fandom was pokemon anime, so I was 100% set on learning that style first bc that was fun to me, instead of learning basics or anything I went right in and learned how to draw humans in that style, then I got into Death Note so I had to learn an entirely different style bc the previous one didn't help at all, I didn't stick with it very long tho because THEN I got into vocaloid and various anime and more colorful characters so it was pretty much the huge eyes - dot nose style for a while

*then* I got tumblr and this site was very.. overwhelmingly cartoon-oriented so I quickly took an interest in cartoony styles and learned the style which I used between 2011-2016 pretty much, I think that was the first one where I could be like "it's mine" bc I was actively figuring out things I liked and putting my spin on them and it was so fun

but by the time I got into vld I wanted it to be more more complex so I was focusing more on learning lighting, anatomy and making the faces less cartoony annd I really wish I tackled the style of faces differently and I didn't end up hating drawing for several years in the process without even realizing it BUT Anyway

with gnshn last year is when I finally started compiling all the things I liked about drawing again from past styles and also new things so I can all combine it together at last, which is something I haven't done in huh 6(??)+ years.. ughhh lmao I really had to stop and be like "what do I WANT my art to look like?" and I'm still working on it

but yeah basically, it IS a lot more streamlined if you pick tutorials and go like that's a good™️ style to learn and go from there, instead of learning/unlearning things over and over like I did, I don't regret learning the previous styles tho, each of them were what I wanted out of it at the time, but there was a learning curve every single time

anyway your art path is your own whether you choose to get better in the faster way possible or do detours or something else, once you have a set of things that feel personal to you in how you draw them and you can comfortably use that to draw whatever u want to, you'll just know, it doesn't have to happen asap c:

[janeyseymour]

She

an anon requested this song fic based on Dodie's song. It's a really beautiful song about longing... and i attached is my own cover of the song if you'd like to hear my version of it :)

WC: ~2.6k

From the first day you began working at Abbott, you knew Melissa Schemmenti was an ethereal being. She was perfect- stunningly gorgeous, hilarious and quick witted, fiercely protective of those who she cared about- never one to back down from a challenge or threat that presented itself. And somehow you wormed your way into her heart- you still don’t really know why or how. 

Apparently, you were the absolute opposite of someone who would find themselves interacting with Melissa. You were just… you. You were young. You were positive and fun-loving, coming in with your hair done up nicely and always wearing something that had flowers on it. You were far from the blazers and jackets that she wore, but also just as far from the leather that she was usually clad in- your style was more Janine-esque. And oh how she loved to make fun of her colleagues outfit choices most days with her big skirts and ill-fitting sweaters, the clogs and shoes that didn’t have laces. The difference between you and Janine was that your clothes were shaped to your body, showing off your figure instead of hiding it- you wonder if that’s why she doesn’t make comments about your bright and sunny disposition.

But she liked having you around- she made it a point to keep you close to her during staff meetings, lunches, and outside of school- going as far as letting you come over for dinner and making you various meals.

And after so much time spent with the redheaded woman who loved to play hard and tough but was actually one of the sweetest souls, you find that you’ve developed feelings for her. The more time you spend with her though, it makes it harder and harder to mask and keep under wraps. Because she means everything to you, but you doubt she’ll ever know that. And oddly, you find that to be okay because you would rather have her in your life as a friend than as nothing at all. 

——

But are you allowed to look at her like that? Could it be so wrong when she’s just so nice to look at?

You’ve had ample time to look at Melissa- she’s always sitting next to you or across from you if you’re at her house. You would be lying if you said that you never stole a glance at her figure- it’s killer. But what really draws you in is her face and the way that she is so expressive with everything she does. Her eyes light up when she’s happy, and the way that she scrunches up her nose when she finds something so delightfully adorable melts your heart. The redhead’s smile is radiant, and you swear it could light up even the biggest of cities all on its own. And when she’s sad, you see the way that her usually sparkly emerald eyes dull just slightly in disappointment or regret. It’s in the way that she bites her lip subconsciously when she’s hesitant or nervous about something. 

“What’s got you dancing in here?” you ask as your eyes take a glance at the redhead’s voluptuous figure. Your eyes quickly flit up to her face though, and her eyes are brighter than usual, and you love the way that her smile meets her eyes.

“Just a good day,” she grins at you. “My cousin lost a bet, so I don’t have to make dinner tomorrow night!”

“Oh?” you raise a brow.

Melissa nods. “So, we’s getting Vin’s hoagies tomorrow. You’re still set to come over, right?”

“You know it,” you chuckle back. “As long as you promise I ain’t gonna get sick off ‘em.”

“You won’t. Half those reviews are full of shit.”

-

She doesn’t look thrilled coming into the break room for lunch today. Her eyes are dull, and there just isn’t the same pep in her step that there usually is when she sees you. She sits down quietly at her designated seat, keeping her head down and her mouth shut. She hardly touches her lunch that day.

“What’s got you down, Red?”

“I’m fine,” Melissa blinks quickly a few times. She tries to bring back the sparkle 

in her eyes, but it’s lacking. And it’s still lacking come the end of the day when the two of you walk out together.

“C’mon,” you say softly. “Tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours.”

She sighs. “I think I have to break it off with Gare.”

“Oh?” you raise a brow as you adjust the strap to your backpack.

“It’s just not working out anymore,” she says quietly. “He wants more than I can give him now, and maybe ever.”

You reach out and take her hand gently. “I’m here if you need support.”

“Thanks,” she says through a sad smile as she squeezes your handle gently before dropping it.

——

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep, she tastes like apple juice and peach.

Your phone rings to life at the ripe hour of one in the morning. There is your favorite coworker’s smiling face; and with you knowing what she was going to do earlier in the evening, you answer.

“Mel?” you ask, trying not sound as though you weren’t just in one of the deepest slumbers of your life.

“Please… come over.”

“Are you okay?” you ask her softly as you pull the covers back and slip on the sneakers by your bed.

You hear her sniffle. “Not really… no.”

“I’ll be there in ten,” you promise her.

And you are. Without the hustle and bustle of the city to detour you, you’re able to pull up to her townhouse in just seven minutes. When she opens the door, you can immediately smell the scent of lemongrass that is coming from the diffuser over in the corner, and she looks exhausted- as if she’s just woken up herself. But she’s also holding a glass of wine, so you really don’t know what you’re walking into. 

“Mel?”

“I- I thought I was fine. I was drinking some of the apple wine that you know I like and I dozed off on the couch. When I woke up… it hit me that I’m- I’m single again,” she whispers. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Okay,” you reply just as softly as her. “That’s okay. I’m here to keep you company.”

She nods as you reach for the bottle of peach wine that she keeps for you at her house. After she’s finished off the apple wine, she pours herself a glass of the peach.

The two of you begin to spend much more time together now that she doesn’t have to go out with Gary for dinners and for various events that his company would invite him to.

——

Oh you would find her in a polaroid picture.

Since her breakup with Gary, you and Melissa have been joined at the hip. It makes her feel less lonely, and you don’t mind being able to spend time with the woman that you’ve realized is essentially the woman of your dreams.

The two of you are currently out thrift shopping when you come across an old polaroid camera. You pick it up with wonder in your eyes. Melissa comes up behind you with a smile dancing across her lips.

“You should get it,” she says quietly. “It’s cheap, and it’s definitely vintage at this point.”

One of the people working there sees that you’re interested in the device and makes her way over. “It’s got a roll in there too. Works nice. We tried it out when it got here.”

You grin, keeping it in your hands. When the two of you leave the store, the camera stays safely nestled around your neck. 

It’s a rather sunny day out, so the redhead has her sunglasses on and looks like she’s practically glowing. Without her noticing, because she’s walking across the street, you snap a picture of her. The Polaroid comes out, and you dry it quickly as you catch up with her before looking at it. 

Yeah, she belongs in that polaroid picture. When you show it to her, she rolls her eyes. But then she gestures for you to take another. You hold the camera up to your eye, and she rolls those striking green eyes again.

“With you in it, ya goof,” she instructs.

Your lips form into a small ‘O’ before you take it off your neck and face the lens so that you’re both hopefully in the frame. She playfully pretends as if she’s kissing your cheek when you do snap the photo. The film comes out, you dry it, and when you look at it… wow. Your heart swells, and she looks at it in approval as well. 

It stays on your fridge. 

——

She means everything to me.

She just does. It’s that simple. She’s Melissa Schmmenti, and you would be a fool for not seeing her for the absolutely goddess-like woman that she is.

——

I’d never tell. No, I’d never say a word. And oh, it aches. But it feels oddly good to hurt.

You would never, ever tell her of the feelings that you’ve developed for her. Not after she’s been so upset about breaking it up with Gary. Besides, you know she says things like ‘decisive women are hot’ but what does that really mean in the grand scheme of it all? And even if she was attracted to women, who’s to say she’s attracted to you- that you’re her type at all?

And somehow, you’re okay with not telling her of your feelings. Because at least you’re lucky enough to have the woman in your life. If you were to confess your feelings and then she was never into you, it would crush you. You wouldn’t want to lose her forever. So, you hurt in silence. And it feels oddly good to hurt over this one- because at least she’s there.

——

And I’ll be okay, admiring from afar, cause even when she’s next to me, we could not be more far apart.

You sit outside of your classroom for your preps most days, responding to emails and grading papers, because you like the change of scenery. It doesn’t hurt that you usually get to see Melissa Schemmenti roaming the halls to chat with her work wife or with any of your coworker friends.

You can always smell her and hear her before you can see her, the lingering scent of lemongrass and clacking of her heeled shoes letting you know that she’s on her way down the hall. When she passes, you smile up at her. She smiles back, giving you a gentle wave, before continuing down the hall towards her classroom.

Sometimes she brings her own things out to work with you- or at least next to you. But you’re still worlds apart. Her single days now consist of going out and staying out to forget about all her problems, while you enjoy the warmth of your home. She tells you about the different people that she meets out at the bars and how they’re good company at the time, but she’s not destroyed when she parts ways with them. You know deep down that you won’t be out at the bars trying to pick anyone else up anytime soon- not as long as your feelings for the redhead are as strong as they are.

——

Cause she tastes like birthday cake, and storytime, and fall. But to her, I taste of nothing at all.

Coworker birthdays usually mean birthday cakes, gatherings, and just enjoying the company of each other. And at the beginning of the school year, your birthday falls on a Saturday. So naturally, you surround yourself with those that you love- your coworkers. Your parents are too far away, you don’t necessarily have friends around here. So, the Abbott crew is at your townhouse, happily sitting outside and enjoying the last of the Summer air with a few beers in hand before the crisp Fall air pushes in.

Melissa had taken it upon herself to make your birthday cake this year, and it’s perfect. It’s absolutely divine, and you can’t help but watch as she eats her own creation. She knows its damn good- you can see her smirk as the others praise her baking. 

As night falls, the cool air sneaks in, and you’re reminded that Fall is just around the corner. And as the moonlight, along with the streetlights out front, light up your backyard, stories begin to come out of times before you had joined the Abbott crew.

Barbara tells you all of how her and Melissa came friends, Mr. Johnson tells stories that you take with a grain of salt but deep down now that there are little bits of truth sprinkled into his tall tales. Melissa lets all of you know that compared to when she started, y’all are soft.

You hang onto her every word, and she looks to you occasionally, but her eyes mostly stay on her work wife as she reminisces about what she claims to be the good ol’ days.

Those tales that haunt the halls of Abbott somehow turn to other stories that don’t revolve around Abbott.

Compared to some of the other people in her life, you realize, you mean nothing to her at all. 

——

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep. She tastes like apple juice and peach. You would find her in a polaroid picture. And she means everything to me. Yes, she means everything to me. She means everything to me.

As your sitting on your couch alone on a Friday night, you stand to get some more wine from the fridge. Hanging on the metal box is that sweet picture of the two of you that you took on your polaroid. The other picture of just her is hanging there as well, as much as she tells you its ridiculous for you to have it hanging there- but you can’t help admiring her beauty. 

Just as your about to sit back down and dig into yet another mindless binge watch of your favorite television show, the doorbell rings.

It’s late, so you don’t answer- pretending to be asleep.

“It’s Mel, and I know you’re still awake,” you hear her voice call.

You make your way over to the door and open it. She looks… well she looks as beautiful as ever with her hair tied up messily and clad in her Eagles apparel, but she also looks beyond exhausted. But she’s here.

“You okay?” you open the door as you invite her in. Her smell lingers as she brushes past you, two bottles of wine in hand.

“I can’t sleep, as much as I tried, and I knew my favorite night owl would still be awake,” she tells you as she settles on your couch. She opens the first bottle- one that has hints of apple. Then she opens the other- a peach wine.

“You brought peach wine?” you raise a brow.

“I know it’s your favorite,” she shrugs. “What are we watching tonight?”

As the night continues on, you stay awake. But her head falls gently on your shoulder as she gives in to her exhaustion and is taken away into a dream- unable to stay awake with you and watch the world pass by in a gentle silence. 

You glance down at her. The frown lines or smile lines that are usually in her face are gone as she’s completely relaxed against you. Her warmth makes your heart swell. And she… she does mean everything to you- even if she’ll never know it. 

[docdufresne]

how r you so good at drawing (halo) armor. You’re literally one of the best I’ve ever seen. Tips please if possible? (specifically for the shapes of the armor)

Oh god heLLO; I'm super bad at explaining my process of drawing RvB armor, as it's been multiple years since I've done it up until recently, so I'm super rusty but I will do my best to explain myself!!!

I've never made any sort of tip guide or tutorial, so please bear with me!

USE REFERENCES!!! This can go for renders from the Halo games directly (ArtStation was a great place to start, I'm not sure how things are post AI ""art"" surge, though) but at the very least, screenshot the heCK out of the series from whatever season you want to draw. There are a lot of different angles, and after they started to animate, it made it easier to get references with arms up or splayed out to the sides, or legs bent and hand motions!! Depends on what you're looking for!!

For this Reference, I used a Halo 3 render, as well as the Caboose-isms poster render. There are more clear renders out there, I'm sure!

First step that I take in learning to draw a new set of armor is color coding the sections that I'm going to draw, and then labeling them with points of interest that make me remember the detail later; Like grooves, or a bevel that looks weird or silly. Color coding and labelling the parts made it easier for me to break it down into smaller bits to draw piece by piece, bc let's face it; Armor can be super tedious and daunting, especially if you're just starting out.

Remember It's ALL SHAPES!!! IT'S JUST SHAPES!!!! Break them down into more simple shapes to find what works best for you! Keep it loose in the sketch stage, so you don't get lost in the pesky details

Remember that the armor goes on TOP of a body, and isn't a part of their body! Halo Infinite dOES have prosthetics that are a bit smaller than the armor, which adds depth and flavor to your armor though!

When in doubt, draw it larger than you mean to, and size it down to fit your other pieces!

SIMPLIFY IT!!! TRACE TO LEARN!!!! Really just figure out where the pieces go and put them together like a puzzle! Armor is simply just, hard, and there's no easy way to learn quickly how to do it efficiently and well; It really does take a lot of practice and trying and sketching and watching clips and staring at other's art to maybe notice shortcuts or even details you didn't notice before!!

But the biggest tip that I can give you is just, don't be afraid to make "bad art" don't be afraid to draw "bad armor" !!! It doesn't have to be perfect, the details don't all have to align on model 100% of the time! All of my art, paintings and all, have things that I fudged or missed, or messed up on and didn't notice, but I still have fun painting and drawing because I like making people laugh with my comics and I like having them feel stuff about my paintings!

Sorry if this wasn't what you were looking for, but I hope this helps even just a little bit!!

[rayslittlekitten]

Days of Fine Wine and Roses

Main Masterlist “Dad Will” Masterlist

A/N: Feels like it's been ten thousand years since I started this (probably some time last year, or even the year before), but it's finally done! 😭 It all started because I wanted a dance with Will. I'll spare the excess commentary. Thank you so much to @carni-val and @lovebarefootblonde for beta reading! Banners by @spaghettificationandpretzels. Hope you enjoy and thank you all for being so patient! 🙏 😘

Rating: E (18+ ONLY PLEASE)

Word Count: 5,150

Pairings: Dad!Will "Ironhead" Miller x Wife F!Reader

Summary: With Lucy going off to college soon, a spontaneous date night gives you a snapshot of what yours and Will's life could look like with having more time for each other.

Contains: sex (PiV), oral sex (M receiving), flirting/bantering, aging, sugary sweet fluff, Will finding reader irresistible, Will still being self-conscious about getting older (I think that's it?)

When Will and Lucy made up after DisneyGate, he lessened her punishment so this weekend she's away with her friends to enjoy their time together before they go off to college, which leaves the house to just the two of you.

"Hey, you know what we haven't done in a while?" you ask Will after plopping down next to him on the couch where he's on his laptop with his reading glasses perched adoringly on his slim nose.

"Make brownies," he quickly answers without looking away from his screen.

"Yes, but no," you giggle. 

“Stop by Astrid’s,” he quickly guesses again, still focused on his laptop, clicking and typing away.

“Oh my God, you and your sweets!” You nudge your shoulder against his, your reaction pulling a small smug smirk from Will.

“We haven't gone on a date in a while.” You loop an arm through his and snuggle against him.

"You want to be wined and dined?" He asks, bringing his arm up and behind you while pushing his glasses up on top of his head with his other hand to look over at you.

“I want us to have a nice night to ourselves.” 

"You don't have a nice night with me every night?" he teases. 

"You know what I mean!" you nudge him again. His smirk widens into a smile.

"How about we try that uh… oh! I've got an idea!" A light bulb goes off in his head. "There's like, this social media trend of couples making plans by blindly making choices," Will starts to explain as he closes his laptop. "For example, I'll write on two separate pieces of paper, say two different restaurants and you pick one without knowing what I have written on either, and we go to the one you picked."

"Okay, that sounds fun, but since when have you kept up with trends on social media? You don't even have social media," you say with a raised brow.

"Lucy showed a bunch to me the other day, but the cutest one was with a puppy choosing which outfit it was going to wear."

"Hm, I think it would be fun to pick out each other's outfits," you tell him, suddenly intrigued by this idea.

"Alright, how about this? We throw a couple of restaurants in a hat and we randomly pick one. Leave that to probability," he suggests. "But we each get to personally pick out what the other person wears. How does that sound?"

"Hmm..." you pretend to ponder. "Okay!"

***

After the luck of the draw of picking a bistro you haven't been to in a while, the next step is to figure out what to wear. The two of you take a peek at each other's wardrobe options after a long, refreshing shower where Will decided to join you.

“The navy blue suit? Really?”

“You look handsome in any color but this one really brings out your eyes,” you tell him. “But most of all, I love how your butt looks in it.” You smirk and give his behind a squeeze.

"Do I have to wear a tie?" he whines.

You nod.

“Fine," he submits. "Well, I haven’t seen you in this sexy number in a while.”

Will pulls out a dress from the back of your closet and presents it to you.

“Because I never have a reason to wear it.” You look at the bold red slinky dress with an open back as you walk towards It. “I can’t even remember the last time I wore this. Might’ve been Fish’s wedding. Don’t you think this is a little over the top for where we're going?”

"I'm wearing a suit and tie. I don't think you'll be the only one overdressed."

"Okay, that's fair."

As the two of you start getting dressed in front of each other, you notice Will watching you. You slip into your dress, hoping you still fit into it. The fabric snugs over your curves and contours in all the right places. The zipper in the back is low enough for you to pull on your own but Will helps you with it anyways. When he comes up behind you, you feel the heat of his body radiating against your bare back. He gently puts his palm on your lower back for a moment before sliding it down to the bottom of the zipper, holding it down while pulling the zipper up.

You expect him to walk away to finish getting dressed but instead, you feel him pressing his lips against your shoulder and neck as his hands knead your waist.

“Babe,” you giggle. “This is why I never wear this dress. Because we’ll never leave the house.”

“If my shirt wasn’t already tucked in, I’d take you right now, just like this.” He continues kissing and nipping at your skin as his hands continue to explore your body, drawing a moan out of you.

"Now I remember why I don't like you wearing this out. I wanna show you off, but at the same time I don't want anyone looking at you the way I'm looking at you now."

His eyes rake over your body in the mirror.

“You’re like this gorgeous rose I just wanna ruin,” he growls.

"Well, know that you're the only one I'm going home with."

Turning around, you and Will steal glances at each other as you help him finish buttoning up his shirt for him and adjust his collar.

"I think that gray tie you have with the stripes will go well with the suit. It'll also compliment my dress."

"You don't think it'll also bring out my grays?" He asks, pointing to his head.

"Maybe, but trust me, it's a good thing. I've never wanted you more than I do now," you reach up and affectionately finger his graying sideburns. "And you’re probably gonna have other women wanting you to take them home with you as well," you chuckle.

"Even if I wanted to do that, I can barely handle you in bed. I don't need to add another woman in the mix," he replies.

"Uh huh," you smirk. “Sure.”

"Besides, she's just gonna be watching because all my attention would be on you," he says as he pulls you in against his body.

"Or you would be watching. How about that?" you tease.

"Nah ah. I'm too greedy.” He shakes his head. “I don't want anyone pleasuring you but me."

"Most guys would jump on that opportunity," you say, taken aback by his response.

"Well, I'm not most guys," he points out before leaning in to kiss you, but you pull back.

"We should get out of here or we'll never make it to dinner."

"Why don't we just skip to dessert first?" His nose nudges against yours as his hands slide down to your ass.

"You mean the chocolate lava cake with a scoop of vanilla ice cream that I know you're gonna get?" you tease.

"You know what I mean."

"Already? Was shower sex not enough to hold you through until after dinner?"

"Seeing you in this dress got me all excited again." He tries to kiss you again but you dodge him.

"Nah ah," you shake your head.

"Not even a kiss?" His eyebrows shoot up to his graying hairline.

You stare at him for a few moments with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth until you finally press your lips against his. He wraps his arms around your waist and presses your body against his as he deepens the kiss. You can feel a bulge poking you, making you giggle. You pull back, breaking the kiss and leaving you both breathless.

"Now go put on a tie while I throw on some make up and fix my hair," you tell him.

"Yes, ma'am!"

***

You weren't expecting live music, as the many times you've dined there, there never was. It's been a while and they've updated the place, adding a dedicated space for live entertainment for evening service and a Frank Sinatra cover band is setting the mood of the room. During dinner, you find yourselves being very touchy with each other. You toe at his ankle underneath his slacks and his hand caresses yours. Flirty eyes dart back and forth as you banter in innuendos. It's like when you first started dating over two decades ago. You're both falling in love with each other all over again, except with someone different. He's no longer a potential partner; he's your husband, father of your daughter and your best friend. At the core, he's still who you first fell in love with, but he's so much more now. He’s the man you've built a life with, who has walked beside you for the last twenty years of marriage. With Lucy going away for college, this feels like a preview of what your marriage could be like having all this sudden free time, getting to re-discover each other together.

“Mm, that is good, but not as good as mine,” Will reacts after you feed him a spoonful of your tiramisu.

"What is it?" he asks after catching you glancing at him.

"Hm?" you hum.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I can't look at my handsome husband?" you ask with a mischievous smirk.

"You mean your old and graying husband?" he jokes.

"You're still handsome," you tell him. "Maybe even more so now than when we first met."

"Oh yeah? How so?" he questions, indulging you.

"You're like fine wine. As you age, the tastier you get." You bite into your lower lip.

"Is that so?" He leans in with his elbows on the table, intrigued by your analysis.

“You’re in your prime. You’re older, but wiser. You see graying hair and wrinkles, but I see experience and maturity. I mean, your charm and personality also adds to it," you reply. "Fatherhood probably has something to do with it too, but in a way that gets me all hot and bothered.”

"Your opinion is biased because you're married to me and I'm your child's father," he points out.

"Why don't we go ask the young hostess? She was totally giving you googly eyes when we walked in," you challenge.

"What? No, she wasn't! She was just being friendly and courteous. It's her job."

"Babe, you're so adorably oblivious sometimes. She totally was! She never once made eye contact with me, only addressed you the whole time with a goofy smile - the same one you gave me when we first met."

"Hi! How were your desserts?" Your waiter comes over to check on you.

"They were delicious!" Will pulls back from the table as the waiter takes the empty plates.

"Yes, they were," you agree.

"Anything else I can get for you?" the waiter asks.

“No, we are good. I think we're just going to finish our coffee. Thank you!"

"Sure, here is the check whenever you're ready. Take your time, enjoy the music!”

"Your handsome husband also can't read small letters," Will adds as he pulls out his reading glasses and then perches them on his face for a second to look at the bill.

As quickly as he had put them on, he pulls them off and places his credit card with the bill. The cover band starts playing "Fly Me To The Moon". Will suddenly stands up and offers his hand.

"Care to dance with this tall bottle of fine wine?"

"Where are we going to dance?" you ask, glancing around at the other tables surrounding you.

"We can do it right here. We're not gonna bother anyone. There's enough space for us."

You finally take his hand and he leads you to the space beside the table. With one hand on your waist and the other holding your hand up, he starts slowly swaying. Your other hand rests on his broad shoulder.

"I wined and dined you and wanna give you a dance too," he tells you, pulling you in closer to him.

"Yeah, we haven't danced in a while," you realize.

He senses your hesitance as you're dancing a bit stiff and still glancing around.

"Don't worry about those other people. Let them watch,” he whispers. “I want everyone in this restaurant to know how much I love and adore my wife.”

He leans in and rests his forehead against yours. You let out a chuckle. Feeling a bit more relaxed, you're finally enjoying this intimate moment.

"In other words...I love you," Will sings along.

When the song ends, there's a round of applause. Will nudges the tip of his nose at yours before giving you a small peck on your lips.

"Give it up for this beautiful couple!" the singer announces and the applause gets louder.

After settling the bill, as the two of you make your way to the front door, Will notices you lingering behind.

"Are you okay? Are your heels bothering you?" he asks, pausing to wait for you to catch up.

"No. I just like watching you walk away." You flash him a wide smile and a corner of his lips turn up as well.

He offers you his elbow when you finally reach him, which you take, but not before quickly grabbing a handful of his butt. When you finally reach the entrance, the hostess thanks you for coming and hopes you had a great experience.

"We sure did. My beautiful wife here thought the tiramisu was to die for, wasn't it, sweetheart?" He turns to you, giving you that goofy grin you had mentioned to him earlier.

"Yes, it was amazing," you confirm. "We will definitely come back again."

"Anything you want," he adds.

"Are you okay to drive?" you whisper, looking at him suspiciously. "You only had one drink."

"I'm drunk on you," he replies, his eyes never leaving you.

You roll your eyes at his silly antics and turn to the hostess to wish her a good night, which Will also does before you whisk him out to the restaurant.

***

When you finally arrive home, you kick off your heels and groan, feeling the relief. As you bend down to pick them up, Will stops you.

"I got them, babe," he says as he loosens his tie and finally releases himself from the constriction.

“Why, thank you!"

He bends down to grab them for you as you start walking up the stairs. His eyes follow you before his body does, enjoying the view as you ascend. Before both of your feet can touch down inside the bedroom, your husband is already all over you.

"Babe!"

You squeal as he snakes an arm around your waist and pulls your back against the front of his body, groaning while he presses his crotch against your ass. He tosses your shoes into a corner while latching his mouth onto your neck.

"Mm," you purr. "You complain about getting old and gray, but your sex drive is still that of a teenager," you giggle.

"We've talked about this. You're my Viagra," he replies and gently bites your neck.

You reach back between the two of you and palm his crotch, feeling him starting to engorge. He moans into your neck, sucking harder, in turn making you slip out a moan as well. Your other hand creeps up to the back of his neck, fingering his blondes and grays at the nape. His palm glides up from your waist to one of your breasts, giving it a healthy squeeze. Sighing, your back arches and you cup his bulge, giving it a gentle tug. He moans against your skin and sinks his teeth into you. Your bottom lip finds its way between your own teeth while also eliciting a pleasurable sound.

Wanting to take control, you find the willpower to pull away from his touch. Whipping around to face him, you grab the edges of his shirt collar and pull him closer to you, smashing your painted lips against his. His hands snake from your waist to your lower back, pressing your body against his as he deepens the kiss, almost continuing where you left off earlier. You gently guide him to the bed until the edge hits the back of his knees, causing him to fall back.

You hike your dress up so you can climb over him and straddle him. Starting on his neck, you suck and kiss on his delicate flesh, leaving light pink marks. You then start unbuttoning his shirt, taking your time with it. As each button gets undone and his chest gets revealed, you place a soft kiss on his smooth skin. You give some extra attention to his scars as you come across each of them. He's always been self conscious of them, but you always tell him you like how it reminds you how rugged he can be. There have been times you've imagined what it could have been like to have met Will while he was still in the military, thinking about your man in uniform.

The scars are also reminders of how far he's come, his life experiences marked on his body. He's told you how he earned each and every one of them. Some are from protecting the country, some are a result of being careless as both a man and boy, and then there's the most recent one still so prominent on his lower abs. It's been so long, but he's got a constant reminder of one of the things that haunt him the most. You give it a tender kiss before continuing down his body.

When you reach his belt, you tug on his shirt until it gets untucked. Will looks down at you as you continue making your way down to undress him. He takes in an audible sharp breath and his abs tighten when you brush your lips on it. You look up at him and keep eye contact as you lower yourself, following his faint blonde trail until your knees touch the floor.

"Babe, wait."

Will quickly grabs a pillow and places it on the floor in front of you.

"I don't want you to hurt your knees," he tells you.

"Always so considerate, even when it comes to getting a blowjob," you chuckle.

"I always want you to be comfortable, especially when you're giving me a blowjob."

The pad of his thumb brushes against your cheek.

You reach for his belt and slide the leather out of the buckle. You can feel his erection growing as it brushes up against your palms. Once you have his fly undone, you grab the top of his pants and boxer briefs, gently but firmly pulling them down. He tilts his hips up and his thick cock springs out. Will groans when you give attention to the creases where his leg and crotch meets, kissing and licking the delicate spots, causing his cock to twitch. When you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, you run the tip of your tongue from the bottom to the top of his shaft. His blue eyes twinkle as he watches you kiss and lick him up and down.

"God, you're so fucking sexy," he growls. “How did I get so lucky?”

He cups your cheek as you take him into your mouth, making him hiss. Satisfied with his reaction, you're encouraged to go deeper. You relax your throat and push down further until you feel your gag reflex a hair trigger away from bringing your dinner back up.

"You don't have to do that, babe," he says, sensing your hesitance. "I appreciate you trying though."

You keep eye contact as you continue to suck on him, hollowing out your cheeks when you pull back. Will takes in a sharp breath watching himself disappear deep into your warm and wet mouth again until he taps the back of your throat. He fists your hair and grunts.

“Fuck,” he whispers. "Baby, you keep this up, I'm going to cum in your mouth.”

Taking that as a sign of encouragement, you move up and down on him, sliding him in and out between your lips.

"You want that, don't you?" he teases.

You pull his cock out of your mouth with a pop and slurp up the drool that dribbles down your bottom lip and corners of your mouth.

"It has been a while, huh?” you ask while licking him like a lollipop.

“You really want me to cum in your mouth?” He asks genuinely after studying your face for a moment, thumbing the apple of your cheek.

“Hm…” You take a moment to consider it. “Nah ah, I’m not done with you yet.”

You start to pull the rest of his bottoms down until they’re down to his ankles.

“Scoot back,” you command as you slip his trousers and boxers off his feet, leaving him in his dress shirt and crew socks.

As he follows your instructions, you stand up from between his legs and hike up your dress. You then crawl over him, straddling him again along the way, and lean down to kiss him. He eagerly kisses back as his hands grip your hips and then slide back to your ass.

As you continue to make out, Will’s hands move further down, teasing the hem of your dress until he slips his hands up under. He pushes the dress up as his palms press into your skin until he finds your ass again, this time bare and giving it a big squeeze. You grind down on him as his hips thrusts up, rubbing your covered slit against his hard cock.

Will’s fingers find their way between your legs, making you twitch when he lands on your wet opening beneath the thin fabric. He teases you, rubbing slow small circles, coaxing out your arousal. You moan into his mouth when you feel his fingers putting gentle pressure, threatening to penetrate you. Your hips start rolling, wanting more, but he just proceeds to tease you.

You continue to rock against him, but break the kiss. With noses touching, you gaze into his eyes, intentionally dragging your damp panties up and down his length. A sudden gasp escapes you when Will plunges his middle finger inside you. You bite your lower lip and push back as he pumps into you.

Taking back control, you reach down and lightly run your fingernails along his hard cock.

“You’re driving me crazy, baby,” he pants. His lust-filled eyes turn darker as you wrap your fingers around him and stroke.

Will dips another finger in as he thrusts into your hand. You stifle a moan and after a few moments, finally end the torture. Hopping off of him once more, you do a quick strip tease, unzipping your dress first and then pulling down the straps off your shoulders before shimmying out of it, letting it pool at your feet. The whole time you are amused by your husband who is watching while jerking himself. Tonight you wanted to make it all about him and to boost his ego, but somehow he always manages to boost yours even in the smallest ways.

Since he’s enjoying the show, you take your time stripping off your lingerie set. You turn around to show your backside and then unhook your bra. Coyly looking over your shoulder, you pull your bra off and toss it aside. With your arms crossed over your breasts, you turn to face him again. You release your arms, letting your breasts hang freely, to finally slide your thong off your hips and letting them fall to the floor.

Returning to the position you were before, you straddle him and grab his rock hard erection, guiding it to your aching pussy. You rub the tip against your dripping opening, coating it with your lubrication.

“Babe…” Will croaks.

When you’re ready, you finally sink down onto him and he lets out a guttural moan, your own voice joining his as he fills you up. With your palms on his chest, you start moving up and down, riding him slowly at first to get adjusted. You then bear down, sitting as deep as you can. You stay still to really soak in the fullness as he stretches you out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix, drawing another guttural noise from the back of Will’s throat.

“I can stay like this forever,” you groan.

After getting accustomed to his size, you start moving up and down again, but only giving him short strokes, teasing just the tip. Will’s shaky breath hitches. You watch him as you continue the torture, seeing how he reacts to every move. Feeling yourself clench from all that teasing, you sink down further again, deep down, letting him stretch you out in all directions. Will reaches for your breasts and massages them while teasing your nipples, making your hips twitch.

“Mm, you feel so good,” you tell him.

You then start rocking back and forth, feeling it out and finding the perfect position and rhythm. It doesn’t take long for you to do as you’ve done this probably literally hundreds of times. Your hips move a little quicker, but not quite enough. Drawing out the tease, you move up and down on him, only letting the head penetrate you before sinking down all the way again, repeating the movements.

Getting impatient, Will grips your hips and keeps you still after you envelope him again, and thrusts up to push himself even deeper. Bracing yourself on his chest feeling his muscles flex under your palms, you let him take over for a bit. He pounds into you from beneath, with so much force you’re practically bouncing on his lap. You help him out by rocking against him. His hands glide behind you and he squeezes your ass, pumping up inside of you.

When he bottoms out, you take the reins again, repositioning yourself so you’re squatting over him. It’s one of his favorite views, watching you spread open for him as he disappears inside you. You slip him back inside and place your hands on his chest for support. Slowly at first, you start bouncing on him. As you pick up speed, you’re quickly reminded your knees aren’t what they used to be.

“Okay, this might’ve been a bad idea,” you laugh as you shift your weight behind you to ease the pressure on your knees and balance yourself.

“I got you, baby.”

Will grips the bottom of your thighs to assist you in dismounting him, but finding yourself in this new sexy position, you start carefully bouncing on him again with your weight mostly on your hips and arms, and with Will’s help, it’s effortless. From the twinkles in his eyes, you can see how mesmerized he is by what’s in front of him.

His hand wanders between your legs and his thumb brushes over your clit, spreading your arousal all around and making your elevated hips stutter. You are getting slicker as your orgasm starts quickly building.

“Mm, look at you, my sexy little mama.”

There he goes again with the ego stroking. You start moving a little faster and Will matches your rhythm, getting his second wind and thrusting up again. In the midst of the excitement, he slips out of you and you nearly crush his cock and balls.

“Whoopsie!”

“Are you okay?” he chuckles.

You nod and attempt to reposition yourself.

“Come here.”

He offers you his hands and you take them. He pulls you up towards him so you’re properly straddling him again with your knees planted on each side of his torso as your body prefers. After pulling you against his chest and stealing a kiss from you, he flips you onto your back and then practically tears his shirt off, tossing it on the floor. He props himself with his tattooed forearms, each of them on either side of your head. His head dips down to latch onto the side of your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. He then makes his way down and pulls one of your nipples between his teeth, gently tugging on it and swirling his tongue around it.

You sigh as you gyrate against him. His attention turns to the other one, but only briefly. His knees spread your legs wider as he settles in the space, reaching down to align his cock with your opening. He shoves himself deep into you and you grab onto his broad shoulders as he drives into you over and over again. Your gut gets tighter with each stroke so you wrap your legs around his waist and start moving with him.

"You know, you keep complaining you’re getting older, but you sure don't fuck like you are,” you compliment.

Feeling encouraged, he hooks his elbows behind your knees and nearly folds you in half. The new position forces you to release his shoulders and allows him to penetrate you even deeper. Your eyes roll back when he hits your g-spot.

"I still can't believe you're my wife sometimes, even after all these years,” Will tells you, then leans down to capture your lips, slowing his hips for a moment to really savor the kiss.

He picks up the pace and slams into you with purpose. You clench up and instinctively find his hands which are planted beside your head. A few of your fingers hook onto his and you hold on as you chase your release.

“Come on, baby. I know you’re getting close.”

You start to unravel as he continues to pound into you. A cry shoots out of you and one leaves Will shortly after as you both come together. He doesn’t stop moving against you until your orgasms subside, slowing down to a halt.

He collapses on top of you to catch his breath. After a minute or so, he leaves a tender kiss on your forehead before rolling off of you. You turn to him to lay on his chest and he wraps an arm around you. The two of you remain silent as you let your hearts come back down to resting rate.

“You know, there is one thing I do enjoy about growing older,” he starts as his fingers caress your spine.

“Oh yeah? What?” You ask, cuddling against his chest.

“That I’m doing it with you.”

He looks down at you to meet your rolling eyes, but your already glowing face brightens up even more.

“We should implement a date night every Friday. How does that sound?” He asks.

“That sounds wonderful,” you answer with a wide lazy grin.

“I love you so much.”

Before you can respond, Will cranes his neck and lays a passionate kiss on you while pulling you in closer to his body where you remain to have a lazy post-bliss make out session.

[oddzo]

I’m excited to finally be able to share my drawing of my favorite Camp Camp X Gravity Falls crossover idea! :D

A long string of my thoughts regarding the crossover under the pics, you have been warned lol

It’s crazy to me that despite all the jokes that Harrison looks like a human Bill Cipher there is absolutely no fanart (that I have found) of him interacting with any of the Pines.

Yeah there’s art of him with Bill, but the Pine’s family are the ones that have trauma from him and therefore would have the best reaction.

Just imagine them meeting the one kid that not only looks like someone possessed by Bill but also does real honest to god magic and has an affinity for fire!

With how much shit the Pine’s have dealt with it wouldn’t be a stretch for them that Bill came back as a kid. They’d probably assume Harrison was being possessed or something.

Harrison especially looks like Bipper so I’d imagine he’d be especially unsettling to Dipper and Mabel. (Probably gonna draw him and Mabel interacting next)

Dipper immediately being super suspicious of Harrison and doing that stalking thing he does to try and figure him out. Dipper seeing Harrison make a mistake with his magic that makes him not look great and Dipper just freaking out more.

Mabel being uncomfortable with Harrison but trying her hardest to be nice to him because he hasn’t actually done anything yet. Becoming friends when she realizes that Harrison is just a kid and not anything like Bill personality and morality wise.

Harrison enjoyed coloring in that one episode so she could probably get him to do art with her. They’d have so much fun with him showing her his magic tricks, he’d be so happy someone is genuinely interested. His magic would probably improve with the encouragement she would give him.

Mabel being reminded of Bipper whenever Harrison gets a bit arrogant. The thought goes away pretty quickly though cause he usually gets humbled really quickly and just accepts it lol

Ford also immediately being suspicious of Harrison but not doing anything rash yet until he can test him. Losing his shit the first time Harrison does magic in front of him.

Someone on here posted a mini fic thing where they said Ford almost dropkicked Harrison the first time he does magic and I love that (I’ll look for the post later and tag it here) Edit: here’s the link! https://www.tumblr.com/the-sprog/659871894550577153/i-just-had-an-idea-could-you-imagine-a-crossover

Stan giving Harrison the benefit of the doubt but keeping a close eye on him whenever he interacts with one of the twins. Not outright hostile to him but not exactly kind either.

Stan somehow finding out about how Harrison accidentally made his brother disappear and immediately noticing the similarities to what happened with him and Ford. He probably gains a bit of a soft spot for Harrison after and gives him pointers on random things, probably a few pep talks.

Oh also I know it’s just a difference in the two art styles but CC characters tend to have more yellow sclera and oval pupils/irises and it really doesn’t help Harrison’s case lmao

I can keep going but this post is already really long so I’ll stop for now haha 😅

[kaybreezy3000]

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Sometimes your fanfic best friend gives you a shout out in an anon ask reply, and then you get excited and make your quickest Five fanart and first-time sort of animation based on a pairing she mentioned and that you wrote years ago. 😄

Link to Bad Kitty's ask

Link to my other art and stories on Tumblr

Link to my long read/3-part Five Centric TUA story with Five paired with a character similar to the one above (and yes-she has Harley Quinn vibes but don't worry if you don't like her-she is not her, I just borrowed some of her wild and fun and qualities. 😉)

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Updated note added late 6/28/24 after a continuous thread of harassing comments from one user that now has been blocked. No this is not 'AI' made or traced like that person repeatedly said it was. I did not steal someone else's art like they accused me of with no back up other than ripping me apart with more mean comments about what looks so bad about this. They also said my other art posts are 'AI,' and that I have no drawing skill or understanding of how clothes fold.

The AI accusation is a very mean thing to say and it's happening to so many people on here and in the actual profession art world. I do agree that I am not great at art or writing but that doesn't mean I am using AI and claiming it's mine. It's very sad that people feel the need to attack art in this way when it's clearly not even good like mine.

This picture/animation was done with me doing a very bad, very fast sketch, and then hardly correcting my lines before I quickly color filled the drawing that I MADE based off the fact that I have drawn Five in a suit more times than I can count and I have basic drawing skills, not great skills but basic. The reason the hard lines are both gray and black in some spots is because I went in after to correct stuff like gaps that needed to be filled for color filling and I did that in a different layer with black rather than the gray I used the first time. It's an error but one I was aware of but didn't care about because this was supposed to be fast and messy.

So yeah... this is NOT TRACED, and from what it was supposedly traced or 'stollen' from, I have no idea what this user thought that was because they never backed that up with some image that they seem so sure I used. This was based on Five with one of my original characters, so that image they claim I stole didn't exist until I made it.

I'm just trying to have fun with my friends on here while learning to draw better digitally. I am not an artist, and I definitely don't get paid or try to make people support me.

To those like the user who did this, please just chill with the mean comments and be kind to art makers on here and writers and all content posters. If you don't like something ignore it or keep your negativity inside instead of spreading hateful intentions and saying things that are not true about people and their work or their ideas.

Sorry to go off about that on here when it was just supposed to be silly and fun, but this stuff isn't okay and needs to be shut down. I am not always going to post 'proof' pictures of my works in process. I have done that before, but it's not what this is about for me, so I don't even think to do it normally. I have other art posts on AO3 with hand drawn stuff so I figure I don't need to prove I can draw. If someone wants proof, it isn't hard to find it through my posts.

I know most people are only here just for the fun stuff and let's have more of that. ❤️ Peace and love to you all.

[kyuteflesh]

kyle “gaz” garrick / f!reader

﹒⪩⪨﹒ ﹒⪩⪨﹒ ﹒⪩⪨﹒

anotha one (much love to everyone who supported my last post 🫶🫶 ur the best). not the greatest i could’ve done, less serious this time, experimenting, barely proofread, just writing to cope. enjoy :p

more plot than porn tbh, +18

141 was finally home after what felt like an eternity.

you were close with all of the members but one: kyle garrick, otherwise known as gaz.

every time you all had plans together, garrick would be the first to tap out within an hour. tonight was the night you would figure out why.

“i have a question.” you announced, downing your second shot of tequila

“ohhh! getting serious now, are we lass?” soap exclaimed, nudging ghost who in return gave him a pinch on the arm. you could only purse your lips at him.

“go on. we’re all ears.” price replied. soap and ghost crowded next to him.

“how come whenever we go out, kyle never comes? am i that much of a dick repellent??” you huffed.

soap coughed up his drink. “far from it. honestly, he just has a wee bit of a problem.”

you weren’t sure whether you should’ve been offended or not by what he said. “and what in the hell does that mean?!”

“we all agree that you’re the bonniest l—“ johnny started, only for price to quickly cut him off in attempts to deflect the attention away from them.

“garrick fancies you very much!!” there was no way in hell he was gonna let a drunken soap spoil what they talk about when you’re not around.

…………..

“in what way???” you were flabbergasted to say the least.

“way to go, captain.” ghost grumbled, facepalming in the process.

“he told us that you were so attractive it was intimidating to him. he doesn’t wanna mess anything up, so he refrains from overstaying his welcome.” price chuckled between air-quotations.

johnny was having a blast, cackling and slapping his knee. “LORD HAVE MERCY! THAT IS THE HEADLINER OF THE CENTURY.”

several drinks later, you found yourself staying in a hotel room with the group. nothing going on besides friendly banter.

simon’s phone buzzed and everyone turned to him. “who is it? some girl from the bar?” soap grinned sheepishly. “would you shut the hell up for once? it’s garrick, said he’s about to be here.”

“about time that man shows up!” price and mactavish silently cheered together.

… so many thoughts in your brain right now. how were you going to act after finding out hes been crushing on you for how many years now??? you weren’t sure if you could deal with the anxiety of presenting yourself in this state.

that’s when you heard a knock on the door.

“well would you look at that..”

“that’s our cue, gotta go!”

“sorry l/n…”

and with that, simon opened the door for gaz, and the rest of them swiftly escaped. literally no time to process anything.

you looked up at kyle. “are they coming back?”

he shook his head and took a deep sigh.

“no, they aren’t.. i rented this room for us.”

flabbergasted x2. and he could tell.

“i know i’m practically a stranger to you, i apologize. however, i’m determined to change that.”

he’s not a stranger to you. you know tons about him due to soaps big mouth, and the times where he would barely speak– because other little fun facts got tacked on from there by the group messing with him.

honestly, that’s what draws you to him.

you weren’t gonna say that. you haven’t said anything.

he sat down next to you, taking yet another deep sigh.

“i don’t want you to think i dislike you, and i’m sorry if i made it seem that way. i really like you y/n, and i just never knew how to go about dealing with these feelings. i thought they would go away if i distanced myself but t—“ you pressed your lips to his. kyle’s eyes widened, but he promptly snapped out of it.

he wasn’t about to fumble a second time. he’s been waiting for this moment forever.

it didn’t take long for it to turn into a heated make out sesh.

he put his hand on the back of your head, gently weighing you down to the bed. he was on top of you, kissing down your neck.

gaz parted away from you for air. “is this ok?” he asked, toying with the bottom of your shirt. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable in any way.

“of course it’s ok. you can do whatever you want with me.” you giggled.

he slipped a hand up your shirt, caressing every inch possible. “these already feel so nice. i wanna see them bare.”

your face turned a light shade of pink, “you first.”

gaz took his shirt off without any further hesitation. he wasn’t the bulkiest of the group, but he still had a nice, toned figure.

that was enough to really get you going. you followed along, straight to the point too considering you removed your bra prior to his arrival.

“bloody hell.” he leaned his head into your chest.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing at all. you’re absolutely breathtaking.”

(SO INTO BODY WORSHIP CHANGE MY MIIINNDDDDDDDDDDDDAGHHH) gaz wasted no time sucking and kissing on your tits. his hands were wandering for a good minute before he started to travel towards the burning heat between your legs.

after finally getting your skirt and panties off, gaz took a moment to admire his prize. “such a pretty fuckin pussy.”

he started to gently massage your clit, gathering your slick to help. “all of this for me? i’m truly honored.”

“hush up already and do somethinggg.” you begged.

“aw, needy all of a sudden? where’v you been keeping it all this time?” he began to stick two fingers inside of you. “whatever you say, luv.”

he was eating you out while making sure your hole got attention too. curling his fingers, going at a generous pace. “you taste so good. need your mouth on my dick at the same time.”

kyle laid down, and you got on top of him nearing his cock. he started to lap at your cunt again, returning to his previous tempo as his digits pumped in and out.

you squeaked, starting to work his dick with your hand. you took the tip into your mouth, licking the mess of precum that was left because of for you.

as much as you’d rather have his dick inside your pussy, something about the both of you being pleasured orally was insanely hot. enough to help your climax build.

“more, please.”

“more what?”

“add more fingers. i need it, please kyle.”

practically fisting you, he had four fingers inside you now (rookie numbers tbh). you on the other hand, were gagging on his dick. you could feel it twitch with every gurgled moan you let out.

“i’m gonna cum” he choked out. this man is one hell of a trooper. a munch if you would.

“i wanna cum on your tits. just need you to finish first.” he flipped you over, back on top of you. two fingers this time, but it was enough.

“right there. don’t stop-!” you were struggling with words. squeezing his free hand. so focused on the intense feeling you didn’t care about who could’ve been hearing you.

you finally let yourself go. face glazed with sweat and spit. kyles was 10 times worse. hot tho.

kyle was eager to cum. after giving your pussy a final kiss, he started to work on his own release.

hovering over you, he continued to jerk himself off. you pushed your boobs together, anticipating the sticky coating. he groaned in response, getting shakier by the second. without any word, he finished all over your chest.

“have you gotten over your little crush yet?”

“for fucks sake. definitely not.”

[montammil]

June of Doom Day 24 - "Let's get you cleaned up."

| Blankets | Stitches | Bandages |

Characters: Lawrence, Marshall

Came out later than I was intending because I got a bpd diagnosis today lmao. Not what I was expecting but I guess that means just another oc to project all my issues on--

Didn't proofread because I'm exhausted lol. I know I probably got some medical inaccuracies, but I don't take my whump seriously enough anyway XD.

CW: Parental whumper, dangerous cuts, blood, stitches, stockholm syndrome, mild infantilization, platonic/non-sexual nudity

...

It was like every other day. Lawrence worked a lot and Marshall would keep himself entertained while he was gone.

He often went out to the yard to tend to the plants, drawing in the sketchbook Lawrence got him, and reading through his bookshelf. He reread some of them already, but he was going crazy without anything else to do.

He had always lived a solitary lifestyle, but this was a whole new level of isolation.

Even though Lawrence said to never go into the forest alone, he never said anything about the beach.

Lawrence had been gone since this morning. He usually left at ten, and then returned by five. And since Marshall was done his chores early, he had nothing better to do other than explore the beach.

The tide pools were always pretty to look at, and he liked finding interesting seashells to keep.

He made his way through the woods, wincing when sticks poked his skin. He eventually got out to the clearing of the coast. It was a gorgeous sight, as per usual. The sky was clear and the ocean sparkled, glittering beneath the sunlight. The waves crashed against the sand. Marshall always appreciated how peaceful it was out here, no one to disturb the stillness of the beach.

Marshall wandered down the shoreline, admiring the seagulls flying above him and the different kinds of shells he could collect. He picked out the prettiest ones, deciding he could make a bracelet out of them for fun.

He looked up from the sand to gaze at the ocean. It was so tranquil today. He loved how the salty air smelled, and the way the cool water felt against his bare feet.

He liked to swim every now and then, and sometimes Lawrence even swam with him. It wasn't very fun though, since Lawrence would freak out the entire time and make him promise not to go deeper than his waist.

He sighed at the thought of having to endure another lecture about safety when he got home.

Just as he was walking up the steep hill of rocks and large boulders, he tripped over the sharp edges of a rock and tumbled backwards, yelping as he skidded down the rocky slope. The grit dug into his palms and the exposed part of his knees.

Marshall laid on the sand, dazed and confused, trying to figure out what happened.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, glancing down at his hands. They were bleeding profusely, and so were his knees. His calves were cut up too. Some of them were small enough to be small scrapes, nothing that a bandaid and some ice couldn't fix. But some of the cuts were deeper and wider than others, and they burned like fire.

He squeezed his eyes shut at the overwhelming pain.

It was his fault for being clumsy, so he sucked it up and started cleaning himself up as best he could.

He picked the pebbles out of his knees and hands, gritting his teeth through it. It wasn't very effective, and he had to stop due to the blood coating his arms.

Marshall slowly made his way to the house, stopping every few minutes to take a breather.

He didn't want to get in blood in the house, but he needed to call Lawrence. He was told to only use the phone in case of emergencies, but he thought this counted as an emergency. He knew he was definitely going to get scolded later.

The scolding would definitely be worse if he didn't call him, so this was for the best.

He limped up to the front porch and swung the door open, wincing at the soreness in his muscles.

He quickly staggered inside and grabbed the home phone from the kitchen. He dialed Lawrence's number and waited impatiently for him to pick up. After a few rings, the line connected.

"Hi, Marsh! I'm sorry, but I'm kind of busy right now. Did something happen?" Lawrence asked. Marshall could hear the sounds of several people talking in the background, so he assumed he was at one of his production meetings.

"I, uh, kind of got hurt and I was wondering if you could come back."

"Hurt? What do you mean?"

He winced when he took a step, trying to ignore the sharp pain coursing through his body. "It's fine. I just scraped my knees and hands." Marshall wiped his tears, glancing down at one of his open wounds.

The biggest one was on his leg, right above his knee and still had blood pooling from it. He grabbed a napkin with his free hand to put over the cut. It was a miracle he wasn't having a panic attack.

"How badly?" Lawrence's tone was deadly serious.

"I don't know." Marshall cleared his throat, which had been feeling scratchy the past few minutes. "But it really hurts. There's blood everywhere, and I'm so sorry! I'll clean it up, I swear. I just thought you should know, and I couldn't get the bleeding to stop, so--"

"Just put pressure on it, I'll be home in thirty minutes! Can you hold on until then?!"

"It's fine, I'm not dying." Even if it felt and looked like it.

"Just wait there, okay?!" He heard frantic footsteps, and him yell something to likely one of his coworkers. "Stay on the line."

Marshall did so. He felt nauseous and his head was throbbing. He slumped down on the ground, biting his lip hard enough to break the skin.

The napkin was soaked with his blood now. He let out a small groan and wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. He tried thinking about other things to distract him from the pain.

A little sooner than thirty minutes later, Lawrence slammed open the front door, panting like he just ran a marathon. The first thing he spotted was the blood.

Marshall tried to get up and show him his injuries, but he wobbled and fell back, letting out a distressed noise.

Lawrence rushed over to him. He crouched in front of him, grabbing his wrist to examine his hands. "What happened?!" he demanded, inspecting each cut, and then moving up to his knee. He tried being as careful as possible when he peeled back the napkin, revealing the wound. His eyes widened in horror. "Shit." It was rare he cursed in front of him, so Marshall knew he was freaked out. "How did this happen?"

Marshall didn't meet his eyes. "I fell, it was stupid."

"It's fine. Everything's fine..." Lawrence's hands were shaking, a clear indicator he didn't believe his own words.

He rushed to one of the kitchen cabinets to grab the medical supplies, and then jogged back over to Marshall's side.

He started applying some disinfectant on his injuries, emitting a cry from the brunet. Lawrence cooed and rubbed his thigh soothingly. He dug into the med kit to pull out a suture kit. Marshall paled at the sight of it, immediately shaking his head.

"N-no, I don't need stitches. They'll be fine. It's just a few scratches." He tried pulling his leg back, but Lawrence firmly kept it in place.

"It's okay, just try to relax. I've done this before, and it'll be quick." Marshall remained skeptical but obeyed him. Lawrence pulled his leg into his lap and unwrapped the suture needle from its package, readying it against his skin.

Marshall wanted to ask for something to ease the pain, but he couldn't speak. He squeezed his eyes shut.

He could handle this. It was just a couple of stitches.

Marshall's bottom lip wobbled. It hurt so much. He hissed while Lawrence thread the needle through the cut. It only got worse once he tugged the string tight. He opened one of his eyes to see how many more were left.

The wound was extremely wide and long. Lawrence went on, his eyes not leaving his work for a second. It broke his heart each time Marshall would cry, but he persisted.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally tied the last stitch. He then put on some antibiotic ointment and covered it up with a bandage. He stood up to put the medical kit away. Marshall's entire leg was red from the blood, but it wasn't as swollen as he thought it would be.

Lawrence squatted beside him to wash out the other wounds, and then put bandaids over them. Marshall was scared more would need stitches, but after those, Lawrence deemed them unworthy of that.

Marshall put his weight on the blond, who scooped him up and carried him to the bathroom.

"Let's get you cleaned up, buddy." Lawrence placed him on the closed toilet seat and lathered a sponge in water and soap. "Just gonna do a sponge-bath for now, okay? We can get you a bath in a few hours when we need to change your bandages. Now, arms up."

Marshall mindlessly obeyed, letting Lawrence pull the shirt off of him. He had a few growing bruises on his newly exposed skin, but no cuts.

"Why didn't you stay inside?"

"I was bored," Marshall admitted.

Lawrence scrubbed the dirt and dried blood from his skin. "There are plenty of things to do in this house. What were you doing outside anyway?"

If he weren't injured and on the verge of a breakdown, Lawrence would have definitely unleashed his full anger. "I went to the beach. It's comforting." Lawrence briefly paused, to which Marshall continued, "I fell down on that rocky hill-thing. You know the one I'm talking about, I think."

A long, disappointed sigh left Lawrence's mouth. "You're telling me, instead of climbing the actual path like a sane person, you decided to climb the rock mountain?" Marshall shrugged. "You can't do that again. It's dangerous. And you almost gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry..." he mumbled. He leaned forward so Lawrence could clean his back and check for bruises. "You're acting surprisingly calm," Marshall joked weakly, in attempt to lighten the mood.

"I'm keeping my composure, for your sake. This could have been a lot worse than just a few stitches. If you'd gotten tetanus, we would be in the hospital." He pulled back to look at Marshall. "You did get your tetanus shot, right?"

"I think so."

Lawrence's lips curled into a frown. "You think so?"

"I don't remember, okay?"

"Marshall..." He shook his head in disappointment. He retrieved some fresh clothing and helped him into it, putting him into sweatpants and an old t-shirt. "You're getting a tetanus shot tomorrow, no objections."

He really disliked when Lawrence talked down to him like a kid, but it was a nice reminder that someone cared about his wellbeing, even if he wasn't pleased. "Okay," he whispered.

Lawrence kissed his forehead and picked him back up, carrying him to the couch. He gingerly lowered him down, before grabbing a few pillows and blankets.

Marshall watched him spread the blankets across the couch. When he was satisfied, he gently tucked a pillow under his head, and then wrapped a fuzzy blanket around his thin frame.

"I'm going to make you something to eat, alright? Then I'll go clean up the mess."

Marshall didn't even realize there was a puddle of his own blood still in the kitchen until now. His lips quivered, and Lawrence pressed another kiss on his head, making his breathing even out again.

"Sorry I messed up your day."

Lawrence smiled sadly. "You didn't mess up my day, you could never. But we're going to have a conversation about listening to me. That's all you need to do, kiddo. If I tell you not to do something, it's because I have a good reason. I'm just trying to take care of you."

Marshall nodded, allowing Lawrence to leave. He was tired of getting into arguments with him about the 'listening' thing.

It wasn't worth it anymore. He'd never win.

He tried to get comfortable on the couch, but all he could think about was the gaping wound in his leg and the pounding headache that hadn't gone away.

Marshall allowed himself to be fed chicken noodle soup for lunch. He stayed laying on the sofa, trying to focus on the TV and the sound of Lawrence washing the dishes. He had just taken his medicine, so he hoped it would kick in soon and his body would start relaxing.

He felt a tear slip down his cheek. He tried wiping it away with his arm, but more just came out. It was humiliating, and he was ashamed of himself.

Lawrence's face softened when he saw his reddened eyes. He finished drying off the bowl and quickly crossed the room. He knelt beside him, stroking his hair away from his eyes. "Oh, honey, what's wrong?"

"I'm just stressed and in pain, 's all." He sniffled.

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

He wiped his tears again. "Can you hug me? I just-- I don't like being alone right now."

Lawrence didn't hesitate for a second, shuffling onto the couch to hold him in his arms. He stroked his hair and spoke sweet nothings into his ear, occasionally planting kisses on his head. He'd never feel comfortable being vulnerable like this with any person. Even when he was an actual kid, his parents didn't show him this much affection.

He pulled back. "My poor baby," he crooned, squeezing his cheeks between his fingers. He pushed the brown locks of hair behind his ears. "Are you ready for a nap, kiddo? Or do you need more cuddles first?"

"Cuddles."

"Of course. C'mere, Marshie." He shifted around on the couch so Marshall could lay atop of him. Lawrence buried his nose in his hair and continued to stroke his head. Marshall clung to his sweater, drifting off to Lawrence's heartbeat.

[onejellyfishplease]

Hi hi!! I have questions regarding snapdonnie (plant boy)

Can he talk? If he can what would it sound like? How would he try to hide this from his brothers if he does? Are your commissions open? Oh I wonder if he would just disappear. I imagine this is sensory hell for him. On top of having to eat bugs. eugh hahahaha I love this! He kinda reminds me of those mushroom zombies (/pos)!! What are your thoughts on him? I would love to hear more about this creature against nature (or with nature now, haha!!) I was originally here for open your wings but I have gotten thoroughly attached to the wacky Donnie fusions. Are you alright if people draw him?? How did you do this?? This is so cool!!! I love all of your Donnie designs but he is most definitely my favorite.

(Feel free to ignore, this turned into just gushing about him)

I was gonna keep going but it was going to get into weird unhinged cult territory really fast, hahaha!!!

Wow! Hi!

I will try to answer all your questions, me and @zeawesomeness were just throwing ideas around for SnapDonnie, so theres quite a bit to talk about!

What does he sound like:

I'd imaging real gurgly when he's like that, but he absolutely hates the sound of his voice, and the fact that most of what he says is muddled. So id say he mostly uses sign language to communicate. while he can still do that

How would he hide it from his brothers:

He would definitely try at the beginning! especially when it starts off as a small growth on his softshell, but eventually the consequences get too big and it gets revealed relatively quickly (at least compared to Open your Shell)

Are my commisions open:

uhhhh, not at the moment, but if there's enough interest in commissions for my art (which would be amazing) then i would be open to opening them!

Is this sensory hell for him?

Absolutely. especially now that flies are attracted to him. he hates it. his shell is consistently moving and it is hell.

My thoughts on him:

I live this creepy little dude. but now there is a little bit of trepidation with it. because now i want to turn this into a proper au and i need to stop doing this to myself.

More about SnapDonnie!

he was infected with this venus fly trap-like curse (from what I havent figured out yet, either kraang or mystic)

it started as a growth in his shell, which then sprouted those flytraps (which he couldnt hide)

the energy needed for the transformations makes Donnie ravenous, and the more he eats, the faster he turns. this is the part where his family find out.

yes he was compelled into eating raw (kinda rancid) meat.

they find out that this infection will continue until Donnie is fully turned into a carnivorous plant.

at the end of the transformation, Donnies face would split open and the single flower would bloom.

Small teeth-like spines are growing down the middle of Donnies face.

Donnie has to balance, starving himself without rotting/wilting (bc yes he does that now), while not eating too much that the transformation continues at too fast a pace.

it doesnt help that sometimes he goes feral (and his face does the splitty open thing), and attacks and tries to eat anything in his path. including his family. Ah yes. Angst.

so they need to figure out how to help Donnie before they loose him forever.

Okay I think Im done with ranting lol.

Can you draw him?

ABSOLUTELY!! please tag me if you do! in fact I am completely on board with you drawing anything from my aus! I love receiving fanart!

I think thats all the questions answered! I love asks like this lol, theyre always so fun!

[guttergirlcore]

East Coast Baby I (JJ Maybank x reader)

WARNINGS // NON-CON, DUB-CON, violence, possessive behavior, stalking, alcohol use, jealousy, manipulation, toxicity, gaslighting, Topper jump-scare, non-canon ages, pogue!reader, she/her reader, mentions of familial trauma

MINORS DNI --> READ RESPONSIBLY

Synopsis // Running from a trauma-addled past, you arrive in OBX to find some peace. Shortly after, a series of strange events ensue, drawing your circle smaller and smaller, eventually driving you into the arms of one JJ Maybank. What you hadn't realized, however, is how difficult it would be to escape the one person you never thought you'd have to run from.

divider by @firefly-graphics​

Word count: ​2.6k

~

Everything was still so unfamiliar.

Even though you had been in Outer Banks for an entire month, you still felt like a stranger. You had visited your aunt’s house on The Cut a handful of times in your life, but now that this was your living situation for the foreseeable future, things looked truly bleak.

Still, not nearly as bleak as it would be if you had stayed back on the mainland.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your aunt, or that the general scenery was anything short of spectacular because neither was true. For one, it was that your aunt was hardly home enough to get to know her, being as she was working two jobs just to keep the lights on.

Two, from what few interactions you had with anyone else, you could say with definitive proof that the people on this island suck.

Topper Thornton and his group of lackeys, for instance. Only yesterday, you were making your way back to The Cut with a gallon of paint in hand. Even combined, you and your aunt didn’t have enough money to get you a car, and you hadn’t gotten around to looking for a bicycle yet, so on foot was the only option.

You heard the crunch of tires on gravel behind you and looked over to see an obscenely large black truck slowing beside you. A truck like this one could’ve easily covered your aunt’s bills for months. Out of the passenger side window leaned a boy with an entitled smirk on his face.

“You’re new. I’m Topper. That’s Rafe, and that’s Kelce.” The boy said, throwing his thumb toward the driver of said truck and another boy in the backseat.

“What’s your name, darlin’“ the one named Rafe drawled from the driver’s side. 

“Not interested.” You replied back, quickly turning and walking forward. You were kind of lonely on this island, sure, but were you really going to find friendship in these three frat posers? Not likely.

The truck lurched forward another two feet or so.

“Aw, now is that any way to talk to a couple of guys just trying to offer you a ride?” Topper asked. Sententious judgment laced his tone as he added, “Back to... The Cut from what I can tell.” he turned to share a laugh with Rafe and Kelce.

You had dealt with entitled assholes like these three your entire life, even before you came to The Cut, so it pained you none to let them know precisely what you were thinking at the moment.

“And you and your goons live where? Figure 8, the land of the incorrigible and morally corrupt? Fuck off, thanks.”

Topper’s face twisted into an ugly grimace as Rafe pulled off, clearly done with their fun. Before being rid of them though, Topper chucked a crumpled plastic water bottle from the passenger side window, tossing you a middle finger as the truck disappeared into the distance.

“Littering prick,” you muttered as you continued on, picking up the trash to recycle later.

~

You had just been contemplating your imminent evacuation from the OBX at home when a knock on your front door startled you.

You made your way to the front of the house and pulled open the door, only to be greeted by a different blond boy standing on your porch.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” you asked.

“Oh, uh... Miss Laura?” the blond scratched at the back of his head, a confused expression on his face.

“Miss Laura’s niece, actually. You are?”

“Oh! I’m JJ. Your aunt’s letting me mow the yard,” the boy, now identified as JJ, informed you, gesturing to the old push-mower propped up against the oak in the front yard.

“Sorry, she must’ve forgotten to let me know,” you added. “Um, if you need anything, let me know, I guess?”

JJ nodded curtly and turned on his heel, headed for the mower as you closed the door. You felt a little awkward with a stranger hanging out in your yard, but you sent a quick text to your aunt that JJ was here. Her response came a few seconds later:

“K. Left money on table 4 him. Tell him thx”

Sure enough, there was a twenty on the kitchen table next to a note that read “MAKE FRIENDS :)” So even your aunt, who you’ve had all of five conversations with, noticed your loner tendencies. Awesome. You grabbed the bill and headed outside.

JJ was already pushing the mower around when you walked up to him.

“Here’s the money for the, uh, mowing.” you gestured.

JJ quirked a blond eyebrow. “How do you know I’m not gonna take it and run?”

“Intuition. Besides, it’s a small island- and while I might not know where you live, I’m betting Laura does.”

JJ let out a good-natured laugh as he took the bill and shoved it into the pocket of his cargo shorts. “So, does Miss Laura’s niece have a name?”

You hadn’t realized you failed to introduce yourself to him earlier. “Oh, I’m y/n. Sorry, I don’t get many visitors. Sort of bad at introductions.”

“You’re new around here, yeah?” he asked.

“Guilty,” you shrugged. “I’ve been here about a month and haven’t really gotten around to the whole friend thing yet.”

“Do you want to get around to the whole ‘friend thing?’“ JJ asked. “Me and my friends- we’re having a kegger tonight. You should come along.”

“That sounds nice but I don’t have a ride, and I’m kind of still getting the lay of the land, you know?”

“Ride with me. I’ll pick you up at 6. Cool with you?” he asked.

In truth, you weren’t Little Miss Social Butterfly, but if you had to encounter another one of your aunt’s attempts to break you out of your proverbial shell, you might actually die. And what the hell? This party might be a nice break from the monotony of life on The Cut as it had been thus far. Besides, JJ was cute. Like, really cute. If all the people here looked half as good, you doubted you’d find the OBX quite so tragic.

“What the hell. I could use a night out.” You smiled at the blond.

"Alright then," JJ smiled back. "I guess I should get back to-" he gestured to the mower beneath his closed fists.

"Oh! Right, yeah. I'll leave you to it."

As you walked back inside, you went right to your room to find an outfit for tonight's activities. Just as the deliberation process was fully underway, a figure rounded the side of the house just near your window.

The sun glinted off of JJ's golden skin, his now-shirtless torso glistening in a sheen of sweat. His arms strained against the weight of the mower, and you watched as a single droplet of sweat streaked a thin path down his abdomen. His shorts hung lowly on his hips, and it made you take a quick intake of breath.

Just as you were about to rip your gaze away from the scene, JJ's blue eyes connected with yours. He smirked full and unabashedly. Feeling the heat immediately rise to your face in embarrassment, you ducked down beneath your window.

Great. That's just great. Already making a stellar impression on the locals.

The sound of the mower steadily receded and after a few more moments, you peaked your head back up, only to be greeted with a startling knock at your window.

You shrieked, holding a hand to your heart as you tried to steady your breathing. You pushed the window up.

"Sorry, sorry!" The now shirt-clad JJ laughed. "You're kind of jumpy, huh." He stated rather than asked.

"Not usually," you laughed pitifully.

"Mowing's done and I'm headed out, but I'll see you tonight, yeah?" The blond asked.

"Yeah. I'll be there." You smiled.

"Alright, see you tonight." He said, grinning wide.

You slid the window closed after the boy walked off, pressing your warm forehead against the cool glass.

OBX may end up being eventful after all.

As you finished the last-minute touches on your eye makeup, Aunt Laura softly pushed open your bedroom door.

“I’m headed out again, kiddo,” she smiled tiredly, dressed in her server apron for the casino on Figure 8. 

“Lock up when you leave, okay? There’s a spare key under the plant on the porch. And try to have some fun for me.” She added with a genuine smile.

“I will, thanks, Aunt Laura.” You stood to hug her tightly before she departed.

Although Laura wasn't around much, she had done more for you in a month than your parents had managed in your whole life.

From your experience, genuine love like what she offered to you was rare, without which, you were sure you'd be out on your ass again.

You watched her headlights pull out of the front yard and down the street, just as it was replaced with the single round headlight of a motorbike. JJ nudged the kickstand down and pulled off his helmet, shaking out his blond hair in the setting light.

You ran to your room, grabbing your bag off the door knob. Unsurprisingly, you felt a little jittery to meet so many people at once but excited nonetheless.

“Hey!” You met JJ at the door, his fist raised in an anticipatory knock. His eyes traveled over your frame, taking in the casual, albeit skimpy, outfit you’d chosen for the occasion. At least you’d be cool in this summer heat wave.

“H- Hey,” JJ stuttered out, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “You ready? I mean- you look ready! You look great, that’s what I meant.” 

You laugh and nod, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

You trail behind JJ to his bike and he turns to you to offer a helmet.

“One helmet,” he says.

“Oh, no, I don’t want to take your only one!”

“Y/n, really, take it.” He took your hand and placed it on the helmet. Relenting, you slid the hard plastic over your head. Before you could react, JJ’s ring-clad fingers were working the buckle underneath your chin. Your eyes met his blue ones and he flashed you a smile before flipping down the dark visor over your eyes. He climbed on the bike, beckoning you over. 

“You ever rode on a bike before?” he asked.

You flipped the visor back up. “No! Where- How do I...?” You practically shouted, your hearing muffled by the padded helmet.

“Here,” JJ chuckled, pointing to where you should position your legs behind him. As soon as you were settled in, he nudged up the kickstand and revved the engine.

“Now, just hold onto me,” he said. You could hear the smirk in his voice as the two of you pulled off in pursuit of what JJ called “The Boneyard-” the beach this kegger was supposed to be held on.

The Boneyard was actually so beautiful.

The two of you arrived just as the sun was setting, casting warm streaks of golden light across the sand and assortment of driftwood. 

From what you could tell, the party was already in full swing. The beach was filled with people clustered around popping bonfires or standing in groups, all with red solo cups in hand. Music blared as your eyes grazed over the beach, connecting with a group of three stoney-faced boys- Topper, Rafe, and Kelce.

So their supposed hatred of Pogues doesn’t extend to free beer. Got it.

You rolled your eyes in their direction before JJ pulled your attention back to him and the three friends that gathered in front of the two of you.

“Hi, I’m Pope- Heyward.” Pope extended a hand out to you and you chuckled a bit as you shook it. 

“Old school. I like it,” you laughed freely now.

“This is John B., and that’s Kiara,” JJ added.

The taller boy next to Pope raised his hand in a half salute, half wave.

“Hi. Nice to meet you all.” You remembered your first interaction with JJ this morning and added, “I’m y/n. New here.”

“That’s pretty obvious,” Kiara added. “Call me Kie.”

“Thanks,” you said. “It’ll be nice to have some friends this side of the island. I’ve already seemed to make some enemies out of the locals.” You gestured towards the still-staring Topper, Rafe, and Kelce, though now they were joined by a pretty blonde girl. 

“Ugh! They’re the actual worst. Just stick with us and you’ll be alright.” Kie said, rolling her eyes.

“Technically, if you want to avoid Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, we’re probably not the best friend group to stick around. They kind of have it out for us too.” Pope shrugged and JJ shoved him on the shoulder.

“Shut up, dude. She’ll be fine,” JJ laughed as John B. filled a cup for you from the keg.

~

The five of you sat laughing by the bonfire. A cold gust of wind had you shivering and JJ noticed.

“You cold?” He asked, already taking off his flannel.

“A little, yeah,” you smiled as he draped the fabric over your shoulders, putting your arms through one at a time.

“Subtle, dude,” Pope laughed from across the fire.

“I’ll show you subtle, come here!” JJ shouted as he and Pope barreled off in a faux wresting match.

Kie shook her head and resumed her conversation with John B. about climate change and its impact on coastal environments, which gave you some time to zone out.

You nuzzled your face into the flannel, JJ’s body heat and scent engulfing you. Kie glanced over at you and signaled to John B. He got the hint and the two stood and walked a few feet away to refill their already full solo cups.

Just as you were starting to settle into your inner brain babble, a tall figure approached.

“First time you’ve been without your guard dogs all night,” Rafe Cameron chuckled humorlessly. 

You looked around for JJ or Pope, but they were nowhere to be found.

“You know, you really shouldn’t hang with the Pogues. They’re sort of the wrong crowd,” Rafe began.

“Rafe, I am really not interested in entertaining your bigoted elitist bullshit, okay? I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions of who I do and don’t hang out with. You don’t even know me.” You scooted further down the piece of driftwood you two were sitting on, but Rafe followed close behind.

“Hey, you don’t want my advice, that’s fine. You’ll see soon enough.”

Your eyes connected with JJ’s across the beach at the same time Rafe’s did. In what was obviously a calculated move on his part, Rafe’s ringed hand reached over to rest on your exposed knee. 

Before you even had time to react, JJ was on Rafe, dragging him back by the collar of his shirt toward the water’s edge. Shouts erupted from around you as you stood to see the commotion. 

At the shore, JJ and Rafe splashed in the shallows, tossing each other this way and that. JJ landed punch after punch to Rafe’s face, Rafe landing punches in JJ’s sides. You rushed to the boys, shoving past body after body.

You desperately clawed at Rafe’s arm in a feeble attempt to pull him off of JJ, but as he prepared to land another punch, his arm swung back and connected harshly with your jaw.

You fell back onto the hard sand, the muffled shouts, curses, and cheers blooming like fireworks around you.

The last thing you heard before total darkness invaded your vision was the deafening pop of two shots.

~series masterlist~

[slashmagpie]

Blood & Snow

Pt. I

Directory: {Pt. II} {Pt. III} {Pt. IV} {Pt. V} {Pt. VI} {Pt. VII} {AO3}

Welcome to my @hermithorrorweek fic! I spent a while trying to figure out seven different fic concepts based on the prompt, and kept coming up blank, up until I decided to combine them all and write a single fic, with each prompt being the theme for a different chapter. Blood & Snow is the result, and at the time of posting it is not quite complete, but I'm excited to share it with you nonetheless. I'm hoping to post a chapter once per day, but later chapters may be delayed depending on how long it takes me to get them written. Some of this builds off concepts I played with in some of my earlier Decked Out 2 ficlets, which you can find in my writing tag. TWs for this chapter include: non-consensual body modification*, unreality*, panic attacks

I. GAME MECHANICS

Game design is simple, really.

Well, no, it’s difficult—but the principles behind it are simple. Make it fun. Make it challenging. Make it rewarding. 

Decked Out 2 is a game.

To be more precise, it’s a long-running, deck-building, dungeon-crawling game. It’s competitive. It has rewards—bragging rights, for one. Trophies, for another. If you win, you can get crowns, and buy things to make you more powerful, to make the game more fun. You get frost embers, which are used to build the deck, and—

Clank is Decked Out’s central mechanic. Trigger a shrieker, generate clank. Easy as that. Taking your artefact will also generate clank, because it angers the spirits of the dungeon. That’s another important thing about game design: atmosphere. Design. Having something that feels cohesive. So—no, max clank isn’t quite as dangerous as it should be, but very few mobs would work to replace the vex, because, well, they’re not the spirits of the dungeon, and—

Hazard is generated every thirty-seven seconds, roughly. It used to be thirty, but that lined up with card draws, and the sound cues were hard to keep track of. So. Hazard is generated every thirty-seven seconds, roughly. Hazard makes the dungeon more dangerous to traverse, by closing doors, raising pathways, and otherwise making certain routes more dangerous or downright impossible to cross. People underestimate hazard at first, but quickly find out that hazard kills. When clank maxes out, that turns into hazard too, because max clank wasn’t dangerous enough by itself, because the vexes aren’t doing their damn jobs—

There were two older systems that got replaced. Not a lot of people know that. Focus could be built up, would synergise with other cards, but it was just—it wasn’t working. It got reworked. No one would miss it. Delve was a difficulty setting, but it was dumb, just press a button to choose your difficulty, that works way better, and—

Game design is simple, really. 

Decked Out is not a game.

Had it ever been a game? In its first iteration, back in season seven, had it hungered the way it does now? Had it slept, slumbering beneath the earth, soaking in blood that would slowly, slowly bring it to life? When the idea had wormed its way into Tango’s head, a sequel—had that been his own thought? Does it matter if it was?

He’d certainly thought it was. Began drafting up plans, re-evaluating what he’d done in the past and putting better spins on them. Decked Out 2 would be huge, would be the biggest project he’d ever worked on, but it wouldn’t take that long. Surely.

…Thirteen months later, Decked Out 2 opened its doors.

Thirteen months. It had started as a hole, as many things do. A hole, a build, a plan, a citadel—Tango had thrown himself into it like he would with any huge project. And at first it had been—it had been a project. A build, a game. A giant hole filled with promise. A castle built in a week. Just Hermitcraft things. The usual.

When had it started? When he’d dug, and dug, for hours and hours upon end? When he’d carved jagged-looking scars into the landscape and dragged the citadel up from them? When he’d started building level one? When he’d begun assembling the redstone? When the ravagers and wardens began to roam its halls? When did Decked Out come alive?

…Had it always been alive?

Okay, better question: when did—

A frozen shard is placed into the barrel. The door lights up, sounds play. The door opens. The hermit—Joe?—begins to take off their armour and items and set up the game. A difficulty button is pressed. A shulker is placed into its slot. The cards begin to filter through the system. A minecart ride, and a pressure plate—

Decked Out turns on.

The Dungeon watches carefully, hungrily. A shrieker triggers. A hazard door closes. The game is running, the game is alive, the game is always alive—

The Dungeon Master floats, untethered, bodiless, watching, speaking, unheard, unseen. His body stands in the dark, empty, eyes sightless and lungs unbreathing. Why would he need to breathe? Dungeons don’t need to breathe, after all. Games don’t need to breathe. And Decked Out isn’t a game, not really, but it still works on principles of game design, and none of those principles require the game to breathe.

So the Dungeon watches, and the Dungeon Master watches, and Joe runs straight into the blood-stained horns of a ravager, and—

And—

Tango tries to blink. To breathe. A hazard door slams open and closed. The wires are crossed, that’s not—he needs to go—an attempt to step forward dispenses a stack of frost embers into the dungeon. They’re not supposed to do that. That’s a bug, he needs to fix—

He needs his hands—

Stone walls aren’t fingers, but they flex all the same, groaning under the strain—

There’s an itching in his legs. Skulk creeps up the walls. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This isn’t—

It’s dark. A warden sniffs. A shrieker howls. Stone becomes sinew becomes skulk becomes shadow becomes smoke becomes a soul. The Dungeon Master wrenches open his sightless eyes, and the Dungeon sees—

(Buildings aren’t meant to have panic attacks. Neither are dungeons. Nor games. But Decked Out is not a game, never really has been, and Tango—)

Joe and Hypno stare in bafflement at the flickering availability metre outside of the dungeon. “Tango, fix your game!” Hypno cries, and—

Ha.

Here’s a better question: when did Tango become Decked Out?

[jetantifa]

I don't accept that the Fire Nation should be allowed to keep their monarchy and maybe Zuko tries and tries to cling onto power because he's convinced he can change things in the Fire Nation from the inside out. It's ill thought out, he's naive but he's desperate to try and the Avatar lets him, just as misguided.

Zuko talks the right talk when he's suggesting they need to pull back from the Earth Kingdom, but when an advisor points out that the quarry only exists because the firebenders made it possible to mine, that if they're pulling troops back then Earthbenders will lose their jobs, and what else will they find to do? Will they go backwards without people to guide them? He sounds troubled as he says it, it reminds Zuko of Iroh and something in him twists.

Zuko doesn't recognise it for what it is he's done until the military stationed there are drowned out, like rats, and the advisor begins to let spite bleed into his words, when he calls the Earth kingdom leeches who don't even know what's good for them because they aren't accepting that hand the fire nation offered them, and Zuko can't find a reason to disagree, he knows they can't govern themselves

It keeps happening, nobility stopping him from doing a smooth, clean break, a unit gets maimed, and Zuko doesn't know how to navigate it, he doesn't even know who could be involved. It's tied to the Earth kingdom but that just draws suspicion, after all, wasn't Zuko in Ba Sing Se for a while? Who's to say he wasn't murdering them in cold blood to stir some terror, to make his advisors push back, Ozai liked to do this then cut down anyone too unwilling to fall into line quickly.

The way it looks to the people, he's attempting to snatch away power from the nobility who usually back him, his family? Zuko can't get rid of them, because he knows too much change could set up a coup, so he's moving slowly, but in doing so, he's not removing fire nation bases, or pearing down his army, he's stagnant. When people start talking about Ozai again, in whispers, he doesn't understand, he thought if the head of the snake was removed, the rest would follow along so he could rebirth the fire nation into a new era.

But the imperialistic fire nation was always more than one man, it's systematic, it's a disease and Zuko only realises it when the walls are closing in and he's abdicating under threat of being usurped, he's stuck trying to figure out what's happening and anyway, I just think Zuko finding the freedom fighters, with Jet alive and making sense of what the fire nation represents, that the advisors and nobility obviously don't want to let go of their power because war is profitable, so ofc they dress it up as benevolent rather than controlling

I just think class traitor Zuko finally joining the freedom fighters could be so fun because the Palace was always stifling but he's only realising it when he's in the trees again, when the blue spirit comes alive again because you can't wash away 100 years of imperialism when it's embedded in the structure itself and they should start getting along in their shared ideal of wanting to resist. For Zuko it's to remove the rot, the corruption from the Fire Nation, for Jet and his people, to get the Fire Nation army to stop oppressing them, to leave them to govern themselves.

That it's Fire Nation propaganda that they (the Earth kingdom) can't function without the Fire Nation, it's nothing more than a way for the Fire Nation bourgeoisie to line their pockets because war is far more profitable than demilitarising like Zuko wanted so ofc they'd be at odd ends with him

[shadowuserannie]

KOTLC Miraculous AU (pt. 3)

Part one;

Part two;

Nino: Jensi OKAY SO MY REASONING; the part that Nino plays is a fun friend who's totally detached from Adrien's modelling, upper-class life. So I ran into an issue with Keefe being both Nino and Chloe. (NO KEEFE BEING THE CHLOE DOES NOT MEAN THAT THEIR FRIENDSHIP WILL END, FITZ WILL END UP WITH MULTIPLE BEST FRIENDS AND PLEASE READ FIRST PART FOR MORE DETAILS ON CHLOE KEEFE) There's also like. no other male main character that's even got anything other than Wylie. (and no offense to Wylie. He's cool I just permanently have him being at least 5 years older than the oldest of the main main cast mentally so it's hard thinking of him as anything but that and thus it's kinda awkward) so this is a chance to flesh out Jensi more!! He's also like, the kid who talks to people quickly and is really friendly, so I figured he'd be a good fit.

As for the rest of the characters, there's...welp this is the end. Mainly because I can't really find any other 'roles' they can fulfil since I've done the mains already. So they'll backfill, but I'll try to give them their own arcs as well.

For the adult characters, Sophie will be adopted by Edaline and Grady in the beginning already. They run an extremely successful bakery with multiple outlets across Paris. also should Jolie still be dead or be an older sister figure to Sophie? for funsies (and also because Amy's in a coma in the AU)

Gabriel: Alden. Yall knew this was coming the MOMENT I put Fitz as Adrien.

Felix: Alvar. HEAR ME OUT. ALVAR BEING MORE LIKE A DISTANT COUSIN (because reasons I haven't figured out yet) than older brother BECAUSE OF HOW OFTEN HE'S AWAY. Alvar returning and stirring Fitz into further rebellion (and making Alden remember why he threatened to disown his oldest son and failure) Alvar having his own agenda, that both lines up and collides with the heroes' (protecting Fitz, and then Biana when she returns)

Also just to clarify; my in-the-drafts AU is not season 1, season 2, season 3. Season 1 is mainly filler, and while I'm planning to use the 'villain of the week' eps turned into actual character development, I'm just trying my best. I also, plainly, just do not want to write 26/(maybe more including s2 eps) chapters just being recolors of the same episode with Sophie and Fitz's names over Mari and Adrien's. that is a rabbit hole I have seen many fall into and I don't think I could stand being that plotless (sorry)

Finally, depending on how much of the filler I cut, I'm looking at the entire story spanning about maybe two years at most. (keep in mind I am trying to avoid s4 and s5 entirely. just. no. I cannot draw out a reveal scene that long I'm trying to plan it in conjunction when Sophie and Fitz finally successfully hunt down the verse Master Fu)

[venture-through-the-mist]

Tennotober 2024

My collection of works based on the Tennotober 2024 prompts.

Hi all! I wanted to take part in Tennotober 2024, but I also knew that I wouldn’t be able to draw 31 art pieces, so I’m doing some fics instead!

The Warframe Tennotober 2024 Prompt List can be found here: https://forums.warframe.com/topic/1412660-official-tennotober-2024-megathread/

Day 22: Arcade: The Purpose Of Pinball

Drifter Lēna finds herself curious about what Amir does in his spare time. He’s quite content to share it with her.

TW: None for this chapter.

With that out of the way, the fic begins under the cut.

“So, what’s the purpose of these, exactly?” For a moment, she wonders if he doesn’t hear her as he continues to dart between the consoles, spending a few moments at one before switching to another, then back again. The Drifter is about to repeat her question, when she hears his voice above the odd sounds emanating from the machines.

“They’re fun. Plus, there isn’t really much to do unless we’re on missions or something needs to be fixed. Actually…Arthur mentioned one of the security cameras is acting weird again…I should probably take a look at that.” The subject change doesn’t phase her, though despite his realization, the technician doesn’t turn his attention away from the blinking screens. 

“Fun, hm? And no one else has an issue with it?” The rest of the Hex seem quite focused on the task at hand, for the most part. They all have their quirks, but many of them spend their time honing their skills, or taking part in target practice or…whatever it is Lettie does to sharpen her medic knowledge. Amir continues to dash between consoles at an almost dizzying speed, but he does reply, a touch of defensiveness in his voice.

“Not really. Pretty sure they know that the alternative is me tearing apart half the tech in this mall just to see how it works. I work just as much as the rest of them anyways.” Lēna raises her hands in surrender, realizing that she’s inadvertently said something wrong—damn her abysmal interpersonal skills, she thinks—, and rushes to correct herself, her words coming somewhat awkwardly.

“I didn’t…Sorry, I wasn’t trying to say that you don’t. I’m just curious, is all. Where I’m from, we don’t really get a lot of opportunities to just do things for fun.” Come to think of it, what has she ever done that was actually for her own enjoyment—and wasn’t just her being reckless? Certainly nothing in Duviri fits the bill, especially considering that she was running for her life for most of her time there. The closest she’s come, the Drifter realizes, is spending time with Mag, and even then, there’s usually some serious undertone.

Especially recently.

“Do you want to give it a try?” She’s so focused on her thoughts that she nearly forgets about the other being in the room until he poses a question. Lēna tilts her head—not that he sees it, his gaze is fixed firmly on the screens in front of him—, considering it.

“You sure? I don’t want to break it or something.” She hears a noncommittal huff from the other.

“You won’t. C’mon, give it a go. It’s getting boring having no one to compete against for the high score.” The Drifter smirks, moving towards one of the larger consoles. She watches Amir for a moment, noticing how he presses the buttons on the side of the machine in quick succession, each button seeming to control small levers which he uses to control the movement of a small, metal ball within the machine. He must pick up on her intrigue, because he touches the identical console next to it, sending a jolt of electricity through the machine and causing it to come alive with colorful flashes of light. She moves to stand in front of it, pulling on the knob that shoots the metal ball into the body of the machine. 

It can’t be that hard, right?

She quickly realizes that timing is important, as is figuring out how to aim the ball towards the glowing sections when the levers hit it. She groans in frustration when the ball rolls through the middle of the machine, where the levers cannot reach. The loss simply spurs her on, though, and she tries again, using the knowledge that she’s gained to better her score. She spares a glance at the other machine, and her eyes widen when she catches a look at Amir’s score.

How the fuck is it so high?

The Drifter supposes she can’t really be surprised, but she still finds it difficult to grasp just how much time the man must’ve spent playing these games. She can understand the appeal though, she realizes as her focus hones in on the sphere, on the flashing lights in the machine in front of her.

“Heh, not bad!” Amir’s voice cuts through her concentration and she hits the wrong button, causing her to lose the ball. Lēna curses under her breath, though the smirk remains stubbornly on her face. It only grows as she teases the other.

“Guess I’m just a natural. You better watch that score of yours.” Her confidence—cockiness, she begrudgingly corrects herself—causes Amir to chuckle, though he still doesn’t slow down. She launches another ball, restarting her game.

Eventually, Lēna makes it a habit to spend time playing these games with Amir, much to the chagrin of three of the other members of the Hex. Aoi and Eleanor don’t seem to mind though, the two of them often encouraging their teasing banter.

If the Drifter had to hazard a guess, she’d suspect that the others don’t really mind it either.