#i know the portrait is off but it was just a doodle

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Wanted to draw but didn't wanna mess with anything that had pen pressure in it just yet, so here's some ms paint doodles done while I watched a manchild play lethal company

[sysig]

Wuh oh (Patreon)

Bonus:

The novel experience of being crushed by a giant rock, a visual metaphor

[nightmareslug]

one of the perspective practices or whatever

[gu6chan]

the fourth one or something c.2022 idk

[kalims]

scribbles

"( – ⌓ – ) ⎯⎯ he lets you draw on his skin, yeah thats pretty much it.

ft. malleus, vil

malleus

it was... a breach of your patience.

the lesson, was awfully boring. the more you listened to the apparent 'heroic' doings of certain individuals. the more it strips away your attentiveness to the words spilling out of professor trein's mouth. no matter how many times you will your ears to make out the incoherent lecturing of the man... it remains deaf.

so you decide to sate said boredom.

how? of course you need to bother your seatmate!

your intentions remained within the circle of yourself of course. your eyes stuck to the stray marker over your paper so you silently twisted the cap off and scribbled on your paper—then it was your palm—and now, malleus' arm.

"child of...?" man. malleus finishes in his mind, his attention suddenly snapped away at the sudden tug of his arm. definitely not his own decision to even make it move in the first place. usually it would remain stiffly beside his body like usual and even if someone tried to pry it to them it would remain still. but without his attention, his body lets you.

without another word. you peel open his fingers, palm open to you and it's a notion he allows. and he stays silent when you tug his gloves off. perhaps with a curious huff, malleus drifts closer to you. to accommodate your actions that he's yet to get an explanation for.

... and suddenly there's very bright flowers drawn on his palm.

said owner of the palm might just be toe darkest person in the room so it's quite out of place.

but it's from you so he likes it.

he peeks at it, with a fond smile on his face. I should enchant it to remain there forever. he thinks to himself, the curve of his lips growing wider at his thoughts, like he'd proud of the idea. the idea of being able to carry around something made exclusively by you might as well shove him into a cannonball and send him to cloud nine.

it's adorable. you're adorable.

his world grows a little more blue the more he stares at you. and if it weren't for the searing glances the professor sends your way malleus would just let his eyes engrave you into his memory forever, so he laments over it and reluctantly peels his gaze off you. mind speaking a thousand memories, the very same reason he somehow can't hear anything trein says.

you draw a strange looking lizard beneath his ring finger, one that looks a little like him and he thinks that you're asking him for marriage.

that can be arranged... he ponders, oblivious.

vil

drawings, doodles, painting— art. a reflection of the soul.

vil is great at makeup.

every brush on your face, a step to beauty. that is his reflection. you are his soul. he wants to make you look—no, make you feel like you're beautiful cause the canvas he's standing in front of is his greatest piece of art, he'd want to put you on the tallest pedestal there is. the grandest one just so the rest knows your beauty is parallel to none, something they can see and admire but not reach.

but he also wants to keep you in his own room, because only he knows what he felt when he painted you. only he should be the one given the grace.

this... he doesn't know what to consider.

perhaps vil should be bothered, if not then a little peeved at the several colors across his skin. a myriad of doodles, some words, and some simple drawings. a poor portrait of him is drawn next to one he assumes yours, the 'fairest' word on the right side of his hand, and flowers.

he's sure though. you're definitely no artist.

the thought cracks a smile at him, and you steal a glance midst the cool tip of the pen dancing along his skin. "I'd thought you wouldn't even let me do this," you admit, chair having been moved over closer to him so you wouldn't have any leaning problems. a suggestion by vil you gratefully took up, though you doubt it was just another excuse to have you closer.

"why?"

"dunno," you shrug. "it looks unseemly compared to you."

he huffs, flashing you a light smirk. "so my face is, hmmm..." vil ponders for a moment, and your face twists to the realization that you possibly just exposed what you think. but you suppose it isn't really a problem since it was basically common sense that vil is...

"gorgeous." you finish for him.

his aura brightens. (probably will be for the rest of the week.)

your hand retracts from him, the marker gripped between your fingers. and he takes a look at your 'art.' he doesn't know if he should consider it as one since there are a heap of sloppy lines, and the color bleeds into his skin. some smudges that you accidentally brushed against that makes it seem like a messy picture of chaos.

vil strives for perfection, but it's only natural there are flaws. to love oneself, you must love all parts. and to love you, he loves whatever the ink on his skin is.

well, what the heck.

"pass it to me," he stretches his hand, and you quirk a brow. questioning but curious so he indulges you. "I'll show you how it's done."

note. ngl idk what I wrote for vil it's currently 12 AM rn ☠ <- newer note, this has been rotting in my drafts for weeks and I couldn't decide whether to post it cause I wasn't sure about vil's but here hehehe

[faithfulren]

late night art

late at night in the 1-A dorm common room, izuku and y/n bond over an impromptu art session. while izuku doodles all might in funny scenarios, y/n secretly sketches a portrait of him.

----

the common room of the 1-A dorms was quiet, the moonlight spilling through the large windows and casting a soft glow on the scattered art supplies on the coffee table. most of the class was already asleep, but y/n and izuku sat side by side on the floor, surrounded by sketch pads, pencils, and a few stray markers.

izuku was hunched over his paper, biting his lip in concentration as he carefully shaded what looked like a small doodle of all might holding a cat. “i’m not really good at this,” he mumbled, glancing sideways at y/n. “but it’s kind of fun.”

y/n peeked over at his work, a grin tugging at their lips. “you’re doing fine, midoriya. that’s adorable. all might with a cat, though?”

izuku flushed, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. “i-i just thought… it’d be cute. like, maybe he had a pet when he was younger or something.”

“that’s actually really sweet,” y/n said, shaking their head as they turned back to their own drawing. they’d been sketching a quick portrait of izuku without telling him, trying to capture the way he always looked so determined, even while doing something as simple as art.

after a few minutes of silence, izuku tilted his head toward them, curiosity getting the better of him. “what are you drawing?” he asked, leaning closer to peek. jis eyes widened when he saw the lines of his own face staring back at him.

“is that… me?” he asked, his cheeks flushing pink.

y/n paused, caught in the act, before shrugging nonchalantly. “yeah. you’ve been sitting still for so long, it was easy to use you as a reference.”

izuku blinked, his gaze shifting between the sketch and y/n’s face. “it’s… amazing. you make me look way cooler than i really am.”

y/n rolled their eyes, a soft laugh escaping them. “you’re plenty cool, midoriya. you just don’t see it.”

they fell into a comfortable silence again, occasionally breaking it with quiet comments about each other’s work. by the end of the night, y/n had a series of quick sketches of izuku, while he proudly showed off a little collection of all might doodles with increasingly ridiculous scenarios, like all might in a chef’s hat or balancing a stack of books.

as the sky outside began to lighten with the first hints of dawn, y/n tore a page from their sketch pad a detailed portrait of izuku with his focused expression and handed it to him.

“here,” they said, pressing it into his hands. “keep it. a reminder of how amazing you are, even when you don’t feel like it.”

izuku stared at the drawing, his expression softening into a shy, grateful smile. “thank you, y/n. this means a lot.”

with that, they gathered up their supplies, sharing quiet goodbyes as they headed back to their rooms. as y/n crawled into bed, they couldn’t help but smile, knowing they’d shared a moment that was just theirs, etched into the stillness of the night.

[leighsartworks216]

You Have A Type, Don't You?

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Based on this post

I wrote this instead of doing any of the work I need to do! I'm gonna go do that now lol

Warnings: innuendos, minor references to sex, the barest hints of jealousy

Word Count: 1,601

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Your pencil scratched across the paper, drawing Astarion over and over again on a single page. This wasn’t anything surprising; you drew all of your companions. Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae’zel - they all had pages of their own, but it was usually only one drawing. Some had even posed for it. It was just a way to relax, and their faces always lit up when you showed them, even if they tried not to show it.

Everyone needed a break from fighting and exploring day in day out, so you decided one more day here wouldn’t hurt. As such, you’ve spent the better half of the day just drawing. At first it was little doodles of Scratch, but then you realized you hadn’t drawn the vampire spawn yet.

Most of the expressions you captured came from memory. You’d occasionally sneak a glance for quick reference, pretending to stretch or get distracted by some birds. But at some point, he’d disappeared from camp. You just assumed he’d gone off hunting.

That assumption was proved quite wrong when a voice tsked over your shoulder, almost directly in your ear.

Startling away from the sound, you whipped around to see Astarion crouched down. He wore a self-satisfied smirk and settled down into a full sit on the ground.

“It seems someone is infatuated,” he teased. “So who is it? Someone we saved from peril, perhaps?”

Oh. Right. It had completely slipped your mind.

You cleared your throat as your cheeks warmed and smiled. “Y-Yeah, something like that.”

He chuckled. “Come on, darling, there’s nothing to be shy about. Spare none of the juicy details. What’s he like?”

“He’s, well,” you stammer, “he’s interesting.”

He scoffed. “That’s hardly juicy or a detail. Or is he just another pretty face?” He leaned forward, trying to get a better look at your drawings. You wanted to pull them away and hide them, but why? All the others had drawings done of them, and you loved showing it off when they were done. Why was this any different?

“No, he’s a lot more than that,” you admit quietly. You weren’t good at lying - usually Astarion took the lead any time you had to - but maybe if you didn’t tell a complete lie… “He’s funny, charming. His laugh lights up my world. He’s had a rough go of it, but he doesn’t like it to show.”

“He must like you if you know,” he hummed. Your heart leapt into your throat as he pointed to the pin pricks drawn on the neck. “Is he a vampire, too?” He chuckled, but it sounded strained. “You have a type, don’t you?”

You scoffed even as warmth flooded to your cheeks. “No! I do not have a type.”

“No, of course not,” he played along. “Certainly not for creatures of the night who bite into that pretty little neck of yours.” Despite his smile, there was a tension in his eyes. “I don’t mind, dear. I’d be more than happy to scrounge around some nights so you may indulge your new lover.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Astarion,” you assured. “He’s not… We’re not together.”

“No?” You shook your head again. He opened his mouth to give you advice or console you, but you cut him off. It was better to end this fantasy now, before it began to hurt too much.

“It doesn’t matter. Besides, you shouldn’t be sneaking around so you can look over my shoulder. I could have been drawing something terrible.”

He laughed. “All the more reason to risk a peek. You’re so good, it would be nice to know you can be tempted.” Then he scowled. “Unless it’s something terribly dull. You deserve much more than missionary.”

If your cheeks weren’t already blazing hot…

“In any case, I was only wondering when you’d draw my portrait. You seemed more than happy to provide the others with a likeness. And…” He looked past you, seemingly far away. “I haven’t seen myself in two centuries. One gets curious, especially when you’re as vain as me.”

If he heard your heart start racing, he didn’t comment on it. Drawing him would make him realize it wasn’t some other vampire crush you were drawing. But, it had been a while since your adventure began, and you’d drawn everyone else. You swallowed down your anxiety. “Yeah! Of course! Did you wanna pose, or anything?”

He blinked and suddenly he was back in the present. A sly smirk covered up whatever emotions could be lingering on his face. “If your little vampire friend doesn’t get too jealous. I would actually like if you could draw me just,” he paused, “smiling. It would be nice to know what everyone else sees. Make sure I’m not off-putting, you know how it is.”

Once he was sitting comfortably, you turned to a fresh page and began drawing. The paper was hidden from his view, but he watched as your hand, wrist, and arm all moved in tandem like a clock’s gears to create an image. Your eyes moved between the sketch and him multiple times. Sometimes you’d glance up and draw for almost a minute. Then other times you kept going back and forth, constantly checking for reference.

Watching you work was fascinating. All your surroundings faded away. Karlach being her usual loud self, Wyll dancing, Gale cooking, Lae’zel sharpening weapons - nothing could turn your attention from him. He almost felt subconscious with the intensity of it. Your eyes studied him, taking in every single feature, and translated it to your journal. What did you see when you looked at him, he wondered. What did the world see? It had been so long, he couldn’t even remember his face. All he knew was he was attractive.

With a final few marks, brushed away to blend them into the rest, you looked down at your masterpiece. You were so caught up in the drawing you forgot why you were hesitant before, but now that Astarion stared at you from two different angles, your anxiety came back full force. There was no way out of this.

“All done, dear?”

You smiled shakily up at him and turned the journal around. His face scrunched up in confusion. When he met your eyes, he was decidedly unamused. “Darling, if you’re going to draw your fleeting fancy, don’t trick me first. I know it’s hard to see past the depraved bloodlust, but we don’t all look alike, you know.”

“No, Astarion, it’s not- I-”

While you fought to find words, Karlach picked up the slack. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted across the camp, “IT’S YOU, FANGS!”

Dread washed over you. You closed your eyes. If a merciful god was going to kill you and rid you of this embarrassment, now would be the time. A bolt of lightning, perhaps. You’d even welcome decapitation.

You risked a glance when you felt your book being tugged carefully from your hands. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly open as he tried to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. Gods, now he was going to leave camp. You buried your face in your hands. He was going to pack everything up and leave before the sun even touched the horizon. And you’d never see him again. Maybe you’d go find Cazador yourself, just to kill the bastard.

“All these drawings… are me? Darling?”

You inhaled deeply and lowered your hands, but you couldn’t bear looking at him. He could stab you with his dagger and you’d apologize to him for it all. Hell, you’d let him drink you dry if it meant leaving this all behind you. “You’re very pretty,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t know how to ask, and just- You can rip the pages out, burn them, whatever makes you feel better. And if you leave, I won’t blame you or chase after you or-”

“I’m not upset.” Your head never shot up so fast. “Well, a little. You’re not subtle when you stare, you know. I thought you were just uncomfortable being around a vampire, but this…” He turned back to the portrait you’d just finished. “This is really what I look like?”

You swallowed away a small portion of the shame. At least he wasn’t running away. “As best as I can capture you, anyway. Y-You’ve got these sharp eyes, and your hair curls around your ears, and you get little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you laugh - and I just like drawing you.”

The page flipped over again. The page of expressions, capturing everything you described. When he smiled full and bright his fangs were on full display, accented by the laugh lines on either side of his mouth. And the puncture wounds on his neck…

“Ah, so when I said you had a type…” He chuckled, but it didn’t hold as much warmth as usual.

“Your laugh does light up my world,” you admit. His red eyes were on you in an instant, flickering over your whole face. “Just, for the record.”

He glanced at the drawings once more, contemplative. Then, he held the book back out to you. “I wouldn’t be… opposed to trying this. Whatever this is.”

You reached out to take it, but he pulled it away. “But, no more sneaking glances across camp when you want to draw me. I would be delighted to model for you again, in any pose your sweet heart can concoct.” He held the book out again. “Deal?”

You grabbed onto the book, finally relaxing as you smiled. “Deal.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @mjmygd @flsalazar @thedevilssinner @marina-and-the-memes @softempest @rebeccasship @pinkishredlemonade @faeoran

[mother-giselles-hat]

Do you think Emmrich keeps a little notebook. Do you think when he was an uncertain young boy, terrified of the dark and the gloom and the inescapable inevitability of death being so very in front of him so shortly after a devastating loss, he needed an outlet? And perhaps an older, kinder Mourn Watch member who themselves did not choose their path but rather stumbled upon it gave the gangly youth before them a small collection of pages to work through his racing thoughts in?

I'm picturing clumsy doodles of flowers from graveyards that as one flips through the years of journals kept neatly on a personal bookshelf turn into masterful sketches worthy of publication in a scientific journal. Rough strokes with lots of pressure behind them, intent on getting the repeatedly written rituals correct so that he no longer has to reference a cheat sheet. Maybe even a list of names, pages upon pages worth crossed out until at last, underlined so strongly the pen tore through paper, we find the name Manfred.

And I like to think that he goes through at least a journal and a half while getting to speak with so many companions from so many parts of the world he has previously never dreamed of traveling to himself, not when there's so much to be done at home. Recipes are scrawled out in Bellara's and Lucanis' handwriting and pasted into the back. There are attempts at drawing the anatomy of Assan, a list of what snacks Halla like best courtesy of Davrin. Even a carefully curated, bullet-pointed selection of topics that seem to work best when trying to get Taash to let down their guard. And of course, a cross-sectioned diagram of the Yam-And-Jam-Slam.

And then, permit me if you will, the opportunity to ruminate on human Emmrich, on a day yet to pass, in which a romanced Rook that never violated their love's privacy finally feels brave enough to go through some of his untouched belongings to see what they want to keep, and finding such lovely records of their first months together. And despite the ache in their chest and the tightness in their throat, they don't stop at the first sign of something more, a little scribbled observation about how much sadness this Rook has in their eyes for someone so new to the field. And then they find the portraits, the loving detail put into the light of the fade reflecting off their cheekbones, their eyes. The carefully crafted notes on what sort of jewelry might do them justice, small scenes of a man, his beloved, and a skeleton strolling across sandy beaches, through shadowed forests, across snowy mountain peaks and through bustling city streets. Until they blink, wipe the tears from their eyes, reach the end of the last journal in what feels like mere minutes (but in all reality is probably something closer to hours).

The handwriting is less structured, the pen doesn't press quite so insistently as it once did. But the sentiment, the sincerity, of the final entry could only be his.

Death is not so frightening knowing how fiercely I have lived. Nothing it could take is greater than all I have been given.

Idk. Just wondering.

[impishjesters]

I have this idea floating around in my brain for a while about a reader who likes to draw and because they have a crush on Jax they draw him. Jax eventually steals their notebook and probably teases them about it lol.

Jax x Crushing!Reader

warning(s): innuendos, bullying/teasing, Jax note(s): Look it's me and Jax, there's gonna be innuendos or some spicy wording and bullying. It's like a packaged deal or something. A/N: If you see me mixing Angel Dust's speech into Jax, no you didn't. If you didn't notice, I don't know how to tease and not be an asshole, so pretty on the brand I guess.

Caine had given you a sketchbook upon request, it was a little different than an actual sketchbook but it did the job regardless. Ever since your arrival, your fingers have been itching to draw, there were so many new sights and so much new inspiration.

There were so many things, so why did it seem like the doodles of Jax ended up on almost every page?

Easy, you had a crush on the apathetic, mischievous jerk named Jax.

Why? Well, now that’s the million-dollar question. He’s not inherently awful, no, that’s a lie, he’s an asshole. You don’t really have a good read on him yet but he’s funny! That’s gotta be redeemable, right? However, his jokes are usually backhanded and often involve being mean at the expense of others.

Okay so he’s a walking red flag but there’s something about him that has you crushing on the purple bastard.

Looking down at the sketchbook on your lap shows another two pages filled with sketches of random things, though most of the page is filled with Jax. You had taken to sketching things back in the real world to remind yourself of home, but eventually, those sketches would involve Jax doing mundane things.

Thing’s like sitting at a table eating real food, though you took creative measures when drawing an open mouth on him, it still looked off but it was serene and domestic. Then there’s the little sketch at the bottom of the page of Jax leaning against a window and staring outside. You’d manage to nab the pose and angle when he was leaning against one of the many random geometrical-shaped things in the main room and later added in a window.

It was embarrassing that almost more than half of the pages in the book involved Jax to some degree. Some pages weren’t even subtle, the whole page taking up a detailed portrait version of the male. Sometimes you even got creative and put him in different clothing.

Thumbing through the pages you saw there weren’t that many empty pages left. You’d need to ask Caine for another one and figure out what to do with this one. It couldn’t be left out in the open, you knew Jax had keys to everyone’s room and wouldn’t put it past him to go snooping. He’d already questioned you about the sketchbook before.

You’d been so focused on the sketchbook that you hadn’t noticed the man of the hour walking up. Jax noticed your intense focus and peeked over to see the infamous sketchbook on your lap, and with practiced ease managed to yoink it right off your lap.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? You finally showing me what you keep your nose buried into?”

A yelp left you, stumbling to get on your feet you rushed to him and began swatting at the book and of course, he’d keep raising it just out of reach. “You took it! I didn’t say you could look at that!”

“Nah, pretty sure you said I could look at it.” He continued to lower and raise the book as you jumped to grab it. Sure he was curious before, but with a reaction like that? How could he not be even more curious? What kind of seedy shit were you drawing? Or perhaps some spicy nonfamily-friendly content?

Jax ignored your frantic words and opened the book to a random page, he was going to tease you about whatever dumb stuff you drew since you always had your nose in it but all he saw were sketches of himself.

A normal person might get embarrassed and hand the book back, but he’s not a normal person. It’s a little freaky, he won’t lie. A glance downwards shows him you’ve gone silent in front of him, simply staring down while he invades the privacy that was your sketchbook.

Your face is red and you look like you’re going to cry any second.

He’s a jerk, he was going to fuck with you, and he still is, but for the moment he’s taking in all the creative little pieces involving his face. Ya know, he never really thought much about how he’d look in other clothes. Gotta say he looks pretty snazzy in something that isn’t these shitty overalls.

“You know if I didn’t know any better,” his fingers still flip through the pages as he steps closer, circling you. “I’d say you like me.”

“I don’t.”

The reply is rushed and he rolls his eyes at the blatant lie, he’ll humor you this time. “Oh yeah? Does that mean you’ve got sketchbooks for everyone else too? Cause I’m pretty sure this is the only one I’ve seen you with.” He taps a doodle on the cover that gives away it’s the same notebook he always sees you with.

Tears trickled down your cheeks, you knew he was a jerk but this felt like too much. You just wanted your sketchbook back and to run away to your room, maybe pin something in front of the door that would render even the key useless.

His eyes roll the second he sees a tear, he’s not really seeing the problem here. You’ve got a book full of creepy—okay not completely creepy, he’s a good model so good on you for seeing that—sketches of him and he’s truthfully honored. It’s clear that you didn’t do this with everyone, so he’s honored to be your little model. Besides, it’s not like you actually have a crush on him, right?

Minutes tick by of him simply eyeing you, you’re still crying and it’s starting to get a little ugly and snotty, ugh. But you aren’t trying to further deny his little comment about you liking him. He’ll have to have a little talk about that later, what you could possibly see in him because he knows that you aren’t a sadist—oh, are you a masochist? That’d explain a lot.

Jax sighs and closes the book but doesn’t hand it over, simply putting the free hand on his hip. “You know if you wanted to see my face all you gotta do is ask. I’ll gladly show you this handsome face any day toots.”

Of all the things you thought he’d say, that wasn’t it. “H-huh..?” You embarrassingly wipe away the tears and snot before looking up at him.

“You heard me. Ya know I love this face too, very handsome. Maybe we can get Caine to put up some artwork in the tent of yours truly.” Jax wouldn’t consider himself vain, but you did have a way of making him look more, dare he say, attractive.

“I-I don’t… I don’t understand…” Was he still making fun of you?

He rolls his eyes before playfully hitting your head with the book. “Jeez, and here I thought you were smart.��� Jax leaned over like he was speaking to a child and pushed the book to your chest. “I’m saying, the next time you wanna draw me I’ll give you a front-row seat. Maybe even take it to the bedroom so we won’t be disturbed.”

You push the book into his face to cover up that growing smirk and blush furiously. “Wh-what?! N-no I-I don’t…!” It’s hard to tell if he’s being serious or not in his offer to model for you, especially with the bedroom comment.

“C’mon, clearly you got taste. I mean that book is filled with sketches of me. I’ll commend you on your immaculate taste.” Jax taps the book before playfully bopping your nose. “At least let me give you the pleasure of seeing me close up. I’ve never been a model before so you might have to get a little hands-on to get me the way you want me.”

As the innuendos continue your face feels like it’s getting impossibly red and warm. Somehow this is worse than him telling you a sketchbook full of his face is creepy, in fact, you’d almost prefer it because your poor little heart can’t take anymore. You let out a yell and it stops his tangent but that stupid smirk of his never disappears.

“Offer still stands. You know where to find me.” Jax turns away but not before throwing a little wink over his shoulder. He still plans on pestering you about what you see in him, but for now, he’ll cut you some slack. You’re about as red as Ragatha’s hair and as much as he loves to see it, he didn’t plan to get this sidetracked when he saw you on your own.

He’s got a sucker to prank.

[storgicdealer]

ok gang. its theory time

the analysis of the new mercenary scene. meta, blueprints and time

warning it is incredibly choppy because of the chaos i am in rn !!!!!! but anyways

okay so. the video cuts off at green&red defending themselves but i doubt that really means a lot

the glitching. it IS reminding me of the way chosens memories were scanned through. but mercs having a whole tv remote?? chosens memories mightve as well pushed them to use youtube ?? but why didnt they access it earlier ?? why vic didnt???

bc of these question im more willing to think they themselves decided to use youtube right now. maybe only right now !

this raises a ton of questions. does outernet have somewhat of an access to internet after all? is it just their own tech? (could be supported by the fact that if youtube was common there i doubt theyd be using specifically television for it. i feel like theyd use other screens instead without a need of a remote especially considering how advanced their tech is)

still possible that it is common. considering they aren't that focused on it and there are random workers in the bg literally enjoying the show

this whole thing is VERY meta lol but i do think the mercs are the ones that influenced the stream in this way

A BIG portion of alan drawing a flower from ava season 2 is paid attention to in the glitching scene for some reason ?? maybe as a note for his and secs alliance.

the video then cuts off and goes to victim again. the whole video was watched through

the stream cuts off to mercs. **RIGHT** at the moment chosen notices the freedom stick rights article. based on the vid it could be just primal messing with shit but i feel it was intentional. (ha. freedom? loser. we're here instead)

later. the video resumes at victim again. i didnt see any changes to vics or chosens ending.

okay. the mercs. pulling up screenshots for this one

i. cant decipher THAT much even though the quality is 1080p for me.

but i DO see that the first blueprint has as i suppose the hover ??

the text pinpoints "power core" and its pretty much the most readable thing for me. another one is kyokaz was here its just a cameo

the blueprint shows buttons? perhaps the controller of the hover? going to a circle thingy. perhaps what is working inside the hover

the whole thing on the left corner says f___ complex but i cant decipher

second screenshot. the blueprint left to the first one looks like a pc?? and its not surprising even in the screenshot itself bc. the mercs have one to the right corner behind em

now. third sc.

HELLO?

firstly. A VIC DRAWING????? WITH A GUN????

there is a possibility of it being any stick but. i feel its victim. in my guts

shooting?? what. for.

it is scribbled out . . .

there is a possibility (along with the self portrait of vics in the unused bg) that it was just. him doodling. it would kill me actually because he is no great artist like sec. just a doodler (<words of flareboi here)

now. this

again . the question how they accesed it.

if they can get youtube to open there. how did vic not know of the showdown. of sec

showdown was uploaded online. that was literally in canon !!!

unless there's a rule that not everything internet-like and youtube like can be accessible. but i dont really think of any implications that proved that

except. for the fact that showdown was already uploaded. before the ep even ended. would it imply time passing differently in both realms?

lord i needed to scream it out.

OH GOD !!!!!!!!!!!

[sweet-villain]

A Heart Dared To Be Broken~ Eddie Munson

Summary : You were just a bet to Eddie.

Angst

You leaned against the plaster wall of the school hallway, fingers tracing the fading band posters. Laughter rippled from the courtyard, but the words that pierced through sent a chill racing down your spine.

“Eddie’s just doing it for the bet, man.” Mike’s voice carried over the swelling noise.

Lucas chuckled, mocking disbelief. “No way. He wouldn’t—”

“Definitely would,” Mike interrupted. “Harrington dared him. Said he couldn’t score a date with you.”

You swallowed hard, your stomach twisting.

“What if he actually likes her?” Lucas asked, concern knitting his brow.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mike replied. “It’s all for the glory of Harrington’s stupid dare. Can you see him getting serious?”

Your heartbeat quickened as their words spun around you. They didn’t know you listened; they thought their secrets were safe.

“No way,” Lucas muttered. “She’s… different.”

“Different?” Mike scoffed. “Eddie just wants to prove he can. It’s a game.”

Footsteps approached, laughter fading as they stepped away. You stepped back, breath caught in your throat.

Betrayed. The weight of their words stung sharper than any teen drama. Eddie leaned against the nearby locker, a grin plastered on his face, unaware of the storm swirling inside you.

" Good Morning, sweetheart" Eddie greets you. In that moment, his smile felt like a slice of sunshine, warm yet blinding. You forced an uneasy grin in return.

“Hey,” you managed, adjusting your grip on the strap of your backpack.

“Ready for the big history test?”

Eddie crossed his arms, feigning a relaxed posture, but the playful glint in his eyes hinted at mischief. “You mean the one where I’m gonna ace it and you’re gonna...”

Your laugh cut him off, more strainedthan amused. His eyes sparkled with a challenge, but a tightness coiled in your stomach.

“...struggle?” he finished, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

" You're so funny" you roll your eyes into your locker looking for books. You rummaged through your locker, the metal cool against your fingers. Textbooks jostled, their spines creaking, almost mocking your growing anxiety.

“Seriously, you’re not gonna study?” Eddie nudged your shoulder, laughter dancing in eyes.

" I have more important things to do" he stopped laughing. The weight of his gaze deepened, framing your unease in the air between you. You diverted your attention to the array of books, willing your heart to steady.

" Like what? Draw in your sketchbook? " Eddie tilted his head, an eyebrow arched in mock disbelief. 

“Just trying to find my study materials,” you replied, attempting nonchalance. You could almost hear the sarcasm in your own voice. Pain bloomed in your chest while Eddie observed you, amusement flickering as you struggled to maintain composure. 

“Right, your study materials.” He leaned in closer, his presence both electric and unsettling. “You mean the scribbles or the doodles of creatures that don't exist?”

Your determination to remain casual wavered. The pictures flashed in your mind, sketches of monsters that seemed more real than ever since you first picked up the pencil. 

“Creatures can exist,” you retorted, diverting your eyes back to the locker. “You just have to look closely.”

Eddie pushed off the locker, leaning back as if he intended to take the conversation in a new direction. “Alright, Picasso.” He smirked. “So if if I slide you a piece of paper, you’ll draw my portrait?” 

“Only if you promise to stop calling me Picasso,” you shot back, crossing your arms. Your heart raced, but you felt the urge to keep the banter alive.

For a moment forgetting you are just a bet to him. “Deal,” Eddie said, chuckling as he pushed a stray curl back from his forehead. “I’ll even throw in a classic Munson smile for your masterpiece.”

Inside your mind you were plotting your revenge on him. He wasn't about to make you a fool. Not anymore. 

The bell rang, a shrill cry echoing through the corridor. Students drifted past, laughter intertwining with chatter, but the noise felt distant. Your focus narrowed on Eddie’s grin, a mask painted over a reality you could no longer ignore.

“Guess we should get to class,” you said, forcing a lightness into your voice while the weight of his betrayal pressed down on you.

You slammed your locker making Eddie jump a bit hearing the slam. Eddie blinked, clearly startled by the sudden noise. A mix of confusion and concern flashed across his face, but the usual grin still lingered at the corners of his mouth.

“Whoa, easy there,” he said, backing off with raised hands as if trying to placate a wild animal. “Didn’t mean to disturb the masterpiece over here.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t just making fun of me,” you snapped back, but even you could hear the edge of humor in your voice. 

Eddie feigned innocence, placing a hand over his heart. “Me? I would never,” he said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But if it makes you feel better, I could always pose like a stick figured warrior instead. Less pressure, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you, edging toward a smile.

His playful banter hung in the air, an invisible thread connecting you, but the realization hardened the smile on your lips. Just a bet. Just a game. 

Eddie starts talking about his campagin last night but all you could think about is getting revenge on him. “You should’ve seen it,” Eddie continued, oblivious to the storm brewing within you. “Crawling through the yards, battling against the undead—Lucas got all dramatic about losing his sword, though it was just a stick he found in the woods. I swear, the guy needs a lesson in imagination,” Eddie chuckled, his animated gestures drawing you in despite your frustration. 

“Right, because sticks are the key to a successful campaign ” you replied, your voice laced with dry humor. 

Eddie threw his head back, laughter erupting from his lips. “Absolutely! You’d be surprised at the power of a well-placed stick.” He gestured grandly, illustrating the absurdity with wild swings of his arms, the laughter in his tone like a melody coaxing you to forget the turmoil churning within. 

You matched his enthusiasm with a tight smile, fighting to mask the bitterness. “If only

if only everything else were just as simple,” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could catch them.

Eddie’s laughter faltered, and he turned to you, genuine curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”The curiosity in his gaze pulled at any lingering threads of resentment, but you steeled yourself. "Nothing," you replied. You hated that your voice trembled, that you felt so vulnerable standing in front of him as he blinked, searching for something deeper behind your facade. 

“C’mon,” he pressed, his tone softening. “You can’t just drop a line like that and leave me hanging.” 

You took a breath, willing the flicker of unease to settle. Eddie’s concern felt like a chain wrapping tighter around you, holding you in place. 

“What do you want me to say?” Your voice barely held up in the chaos. 

Eddie studied you, his brow furrowing, genuine concern brewing behind his playful exterior. “Just be real for a second. What’s going on?”

You hesitated, caught between the urge to spill everything and the instinct to guard your heart.

You took a deep breathe, rolling your eyes as you kept to yourself heading into the classroom, with a confused Eddie behind falling in step. Inside the classroom, desks sprawled before you like a battlefield. Your mind swirled with chaos, fogging your thoughts while sunlight streamed through the dusty windows.

Eddie plopped onto his seat beside yours, the weight of his presence both familiar and hurtful. 

He leaned back with an exaggerated sigh, arms draping over the backrest. “So, what’s the plan? Are we gonna sit here in silence, or do I need to start cracking more jokes until you crack a smile?” 

You stared at the desk in deep thought not daring to look at him. You thought you meant something to him but he only wanted to please Harrington winning the stupid bet. You pressed your palms flat against the cool surface of the desk, grounding yourself in the midst of the storm swirling inside you. 

“Why do you care?” The words slipped out, sharper than intended.

Eddie turned to you, eyebrows raisedin surprise. “Why wouldn’t I care?”

You broke eye contact, your fingers picking nervously at the edge of your notebook. “You know,” you replied, each word heavy with unspoken tension, “people don’t usually care about stories that aren’t theirs. You just want the thrill, the chase. A bet.”

His expression shifted, confusion sweeping across his features like a shadow. “That’s not—”

“Isn’t it?” You shot back, finally meeting his gaze

with a fire igniting in your chest. You leaned closer, the distance between you and Eddie shrinking but the gulf of understanding growing wider.

“C’mon, you think I’m some trophy for you to snag just because Steve put up a dare ?” The words hung in the air, sharp and unforgiving, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

Eddie's mouth opened, then closed, like a fish out of water, searching for air, for a response. His eyes flickered with

" You think I didn't notice? You think I'm some stupid girl? You don't look at me the way you look at Chrissy over there." Eddie's face fell, disappointment etching its lines deeper. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” Your voice broke slightly, turning your vulnerability into a question loaded with disbelief. “Why play me for a dare? You don't even know me!”

“Hey, that’s not fair.” Eddie leaned closer, the intensity in his gaze pinning you like a fluttering moth against the wall. “You think I don’t know you? We’ve been hanging out for weeks and I like you. You’re not just some dare to me.” His sincerity cut through the fog of disbelief that loomed over you.

“Weeks,” you repeated, scoffing. “A couple of jokey lunches and borrowed mixtapes don ’t mean anything when it’s built on a foundation of deceit.”

Eddie flinched, the wind knocked from his sails as your words landed hard between you.

" I mean look at this way, you just wanted to prove Harrington wrong. That's it." Eddie recoiled slightly as if you’d thrown an invisible dart. “You really think I’m that shallow?” His voice wavered, disbelief lacing his words. “You think it’s just about proving some point to Steve?”

“Your always trying to pick a fight or banter with him. You never considered someone else's feelings" Eddie’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your accusation visibly sinking in. “Seriously? You really think I’m the type to just chase a dare?” 

" You can tell Harrington you got me fooled, what a win for Eddie Munson" you clapped, rolling your eyes. His expression darkened, eyes narrowing like a storm brewing on the horizon. “You think I want to just be some mindless pawn in this stupid game? That’s not me!”

“Maybe not,” you shot back, your voice steadying with the anger spilling over. “But it sure looks like it when you let him call the shots.”

Eddie leaned forward, determination igniting his gaze. “You’re not seeing the bigger picture.”

" Oh? Poor Eddie Munson can't get his dick hard then, is that it?" His expression twisted, surprise morphing into something sharper. 

“Wow,” he said, voice low and steady. “That’s a new low, even for you.” Anger tinged his words, but confusion lingered beneath, like a storm.

" Cry me a river, Munson" Eddie's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with defiance. He exhaled slowly, controlling the fire flickering within. “You’re really painting me with a broad brush here, aren’t you? You don’t even know what I’m capable of.”

“Clearly not much,” you shot back, frustration bubbling over as the hum of classroom chatter faded into the background.

" You're not scary, Eddie. I don't care what your capable of, clearly you can't even get a date" Eddie’s nostrils flared, and the color drained from his face. His frustration morphed into hurt, but underneath the rawness simmered a fierce resolve. “Really? That’s how you see me?”

" Pathetic" Eddie’s eyes narrowed, a mix of hurt and simmering anger flickering within. You felt the air grow heavy, your words echoing like a bell tolling in an empty hall. 

“Pathetic?” His voice dropped an octave, his gaze sharpening like a blade. “You think you can just throw that around without consequences? I’m not some chump you can tear into just for kicks.”

" Oh look, Eddie Munson knows how to talk and use words" Eddie’s expression hardened, discomfort shifting into something more dangerous. “You’re right. I’m not just going to sit here and let you dismiss everything we’ve built. You think I’m trying to play you? I've seen the real you.”

That was a mistake, you're nothing but an asshole that doesn't even know what real feelings are to a woman. You're an idiot Eddie." Eddie inhaled sharply, the wind knocked out of his sails. The laughter from the hallway faded, leaving the classroom swathed in a heavy silence that rippled with tension. 

“Wow.” A rough laugh escaped his lips, but it held a pitiless edge. “So this is what it’s come to, huh? Just lobbing accusations because you found out I’m only a player in someone else’s game?”

" You keep trying to please the wrong people. Tell Harrington I said hello" You turned away, the words a shield against the crack in your resolve. As you gathered your things, a heavy silence bore down on you, thick as fog. Eddie’s presence lingered, a fierce energy that both annoyed and electrified.

You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand, furious at yourself for breaking under the weight of it all. Folding your arms over the books, you turned your back to him, determined to block out his gaze.

" Dustin was right, I should of never agreed to whatever this was. You broke my heart, congrats. You graduated from Heart Break school..." Eddie’s silence hit like a loaded gun, the air crackling with tension. The chatter from the classroom faded into a muffled hum, isolating the two of you in a bubble thick with unspoken words and heavy breaths. 

Wait,” Eddie said, his voice a low growl cutting through your storm of emotions. You didn’t turn around; fear of his gaze held you captive.

“Just… Let me,” he continued, desperation seeping into his tone.

You remained facing the window, your heart pounding against your ribcage. Outside, laughter danced through the mid-afternoon sun, a world away from the whirlwind inside you.

“Please,” he urged, voice softer, almost trembling. “Just listen to me for a second.”

You remained still, heart pounding. The aching silence stretched between you, a taut rope ready to snap.

“Please, just hear me out,” he pressed, the desperation threading through his voice like crackling electricity. You remained muted, feeling the weight of his gaze boring into your back.

It was wrong for me to listen to Harrington and take the bet, but I couldn't be around you becasue you make me nervous" He says.You turned, slowly. The intensity in his eyes surged with a mix of vulnerability and something deeply raw. 

“Make you nervous?” The disbelief dripped from your voice, thick as molasses. “So you thought a dare was the way to handle that? A bet on my feelings? You weren’t even trying to get to know me, just trying to entertain Steve.” 

Eddie’s jaw clenched, the frustration simmering just below the surface. “You have to understand, it ...was stupid. I’ll admit it. But I had my reasons.” His voice dropped, the bravado slipping away like sand through fingers.

You crossed your arms tighter over your chest, defensive, pushing back the urge to listen—a part of you still wanted to believe in his sincerity, in the sparks that had shot through your shared moments. 

“What reason could possibly justify treating someone's feelings like a game?” You shot back, your voice laced with disbelief.

Eddie hesitated, searching or words amidst the chaos in his mind. “I thought… maybe if I could make Steve eat his words, it’d all be worth it.” He took a deep breath, frustration and regret mingling in his gaze. “You were just too good at making me feel something more than I deserved".

Eddie’s confession hung suspended between you like the hum of electricity before a storm, sparking an array of emotions within. 

“More than you deserved?” You stepped closer, voice barely above a whisper. “Is that really how you see yourself as?” 

Eddie flinched, unsure how to respond. The weight of your gaze bore down on him, and for a moment, silence enveloped you both like an electric shroud. 

“Yes.” His voice trembled, revealing a raw honesty that caught you off-guard. “I thought proving myself to Steve would somehow change that.” 

Eddie’s vulnerability flickered like a candle flame caught in a draft, wobbling between hope and despair.

" Harrington is something else, he will know what's coming. I'll give him a piece of mind" Eddie held your gaze, and the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes transformed into a spark of curiosity. “You think he’ll care?” 

" Not with my foot up his ass, he will be throwing up my shoe laces" Eddie's laugh, unexpectedly rich, broke through the tension. “Now that’s a visual I needed today,” he said, shaking his head, the pain easing momentarily. 

“Glad to entertain,” you shrugged, the ghost of a smile.

" I know where he lives and I know where he works, piece of cake" Eddie’s eyes lit up, a mischievous spark igniting within. “Now that’s the spirit! Maybe we should form a revenge committee or something.” The playful glint shifted the mood slightly, but shadows still clung to the edges.

" You're not off the hook Munson" “Not off the hook?” Eddie’s voice turned more serious, beneath the cocky grin. “You really think I don’t know I messed up here?” He leaned forward on his desk, intensity sharpening his gaze.

" You don't, Eddie. You really hurt me and right now I don't think it's best if we hanged out anymore." Eddie recoiled, as if you’d struck him. The playfulness vanished from his eyes, replaced by a raw vulnerability that tugged at your heart. “You can’t be serious. We had something real, didn’t we?”

" I was stupid to fall in love with you" The words hung between you, heavy with truth. Eddie's face paled, the spark of mischief fading, leaving the raw ache of reality in its wake. 

“Love?” he stammered, voice strained as though processing an overwhelming blow.

" It doesn't matter anymore" He stared at you, bewilderment etching deep lines across his forehead. “It matters to me. Everything with you has meant something deeper than just a dare.” 

" It really hurts. I fell with your brown eyes, the way you laughed, the way your dimples popped out. The way you said my name. The way your arms would feel around me. The way you held my hand and walked me to class. The way you played with my hair and shared lunch with. The way you explained your campaigns to me, the way you let me come to band practice. Eddie you've made me a fool." 

Eddie’s expression shifted, raw pain surfacing behind the layers of bravado. “I never wanted to make you feel like that,” he whispered, as if the weight of your words pressed down on his chest. “I swear.”

" And worst of all, I waited for you until you were ready to kiss me. You told me you needed time and I gave you it but now, you made me into a bet for your own joy" Eddie’s face turned impassive, as if your words carved him into stone. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I never wanted it to come to this—”

“You should have thought of that before playing games with my heart ” you shot back, the heat of your frustration hurling every syllable like a well-aimed arrow. “Words don’t mean anything when they’re just a cover for a stupid dare.” 

He stood up from his seat, stepping closer as his hand reached out to grab your shirt pulling you closer. His grip was firm, but his eyes held an urgency, a request for understanding that tangled with your own hurt. 

" I think... I love you too" His words hung in the air between you like a delicate thread, wavering in the tension of the moment. You searched his gaze, uncertainty swirling within you, battling against the urge to believe him.

“Don’t,” you said, voice low, you don't get to use those words like they are air you breathe." Eddie flinched, the gravity of your words landing like a strike. He stepped back, hands falling to his sides, frustration flickering across his features. “What do you want from me?” he demanded, his voice a harsh whisper.

" I want you to go fuck up Harrington first and then get it through your thick skull how you hurt me, how of an idiot you really are..." “Fine,” Eddie relented, the fire simmering behind his eyes, transformed into determination. “I’ll take down Harrington. But don't think that’s going to fix what’s between us.” 

“Nothing will fix this,” you replied sharply. " I'm really special, in my own way and you've lost that." Eddie studied you, frustration etching lines across his forehead. “You don’t mean that. You can’t.”

The air felt electric, charged with anger and hurt, a volatile concoction swirling around you. You shook your head, tears threatening to spill over with each heated heartbeat. 

"Seriously, Eddie?" You spat, a tremor weaving through your voice. "You still don’t get it? You’ve reduced me to some forgotten whim in your tangled game, and I refuse to let you rewrite my story for your own amusement.”

Eddie’s expression shifted, hurt mingling with anger. “You’re acting like I haven’t tried to show you who I am,” he said, voice rising slightly. “The stupid bet was just a misstep—a foolish attempt to prove a point...” He paused, words tumbling from his mouth like dominoes teetering on the edge. “But I wanted to be more than that. I liked the way you saw me.”

No you liked the attention I gave you" Eddie’s brow furrowed, shadows flickering across his face. “You think that’s all this is? It’s more than just a game for me.” 

“Then why the bet?” You crossed your arms, every word hardening even further into indifference. The classroom buzzed with life around you, students oblivious to the storm brewing in this corner. 

“I don’t know!” Eddie exploded, throwing his hands up in frustration. “It was stupid. I thought it would be easy, a way to impress Steve and prove a point. But then… you came along, and it all became so much more complicated.” 

“Complicated?” You scoffed, feeling the anger bubbling inside. “You turned my life into a circus act while smiling like a clown. I’m not this easy prize you showcase to win over your friends.”

Eddie ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mixture of frustration and desperation. “I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this,” he said, voice lowering, almost cracking. “You’re not just some prize. I never wanted to treat you like one.”

“Then why do it?” The words slipped past your lips, tinged with an urgency that resonated like a drumbeat in the charged silence. You felt the world around you blur into the background, focusing only on him—the boy with wild hair and a leather jacket, standing in stark contrast to the orderly classroom with its rows of desks and bulletin boards cluttered with reminders of school spirit.

His eyes, once playful and bold, now faltered under the weight of your gaze. “Because I hought I could impress him.” Eddie’s voice cracked like brittle glass, revealing the vulnerability beneath his bravado. “I thought it would be funny. It was all a mistake, and then—” 

“Then what?” You pressed, clenching your fists to keep from shaking. The edge in your voice sliced through the tension, a sharp demand for clarity.

“Then I realized,” he began, voice unsteady, “that I liked you. It was never just about the bet. I thought I could have fun, but it spiraled into something real. I didn’t want to hurt you—”

“Then I started to like you.” Crumbling under the weight of his admission, Eddie’s gaze fell, the bravado of moments.

" I thought you loved me?" you asked " Or was that a joke?"Eddie's mouth parted, surprise wiping the smirk from his lips. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, grappling with the weight of your question. “It’s not a joke,” he said, voice strained. “I really do"

" Then why play Harrington's game? To look cool?" Eddie’s brow furrowed, emotions swirling in his dark eyes like a brewing storm. “You think I wanted to? It just… happened. I got caught up in this web of trying to impress him, while something real started stirring between us.” His voice dropped to a whisper, the weight of his admission heavy in the space between you.

" But yet you're not doing anything to show me. Show me you love me." Eddie’s breath caught, caught in the swell of your words. “What more can I do? You think I don’t want to show you? I’ve been juggling everything—trying to prove myself to Steve, trying not to ruin this with you." He ran a hand through his hair, fingers trembling slightly as if trying to grasp the right words.

“Then stop trying to impress him,” you shot back, frustration surging within you. “Start caring about what’s right in front of you. Me.”

You stumbled through the classroom door before Eddie could reach for you, pushing past a group of students gathered by the lockers, oblivious to the storm brewing behind your eyes. You spotted Harrington leaning against his car, the sun glinting off his sunglasses like an unspoken challenge. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Steve called out, pushing himself off the car and approaching, his casual smile fading into confusion as he caught sight of your expression. 

A sharp crack echoed in the air, drowning out the laughter surrounding you. Steve stumbled back, hands shooting up to clutch his now-bloodied nose. Eyes wide, he blinked in stunned disbelief.

“What the hell was that for?” he shouted. " You've made a bet on me, with Munson!" Steve cradled his nose, confusion morphing into realization as he wiped away the blood. “Whoa, what—” His wide eyes darted between you and where Eddie hovered near the entrance, uncertainty shadowing his face. “You can’t just go around treating people like pawns in your little games, Harrington!” Your voice cut through the air, sharp and demanding.

Steve straightened, wincing as he wiped blood onto his sleeve. “What are you talking about?”

" You know exactly what you little shit!" Steve stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. “Whoa, whoa. Let’s not escalate things here.”

“Not escalate?” You glared at him, fingers clenching into fists. “You orchestrated the whole thing! Shall I tell Nancy? Does she know? " “Hey, come on!” Steve protested, the confusion in his eyes shifting to defensiveness. “It was just a stupid bet! I didn't mean for it to blow up like this.” 

“Stupid bet? You’ve turned my feelings into a joke!” You retorted, the fire in your veins boiling over. Steve raised his hands defensively, taken aback. 

“Okay, okay, but it was just supposed to be a bit of fun, alright? I didn’t think it would actually go this far.” 

Rage surged through you, hot and unyielding. “Fun? You think making someone a trophy is fun? You turned me into a punchline.”

As you were about to swing again, Eddie grabs you and turns you around to face him as he stares into your eyes. Eddie’s grip on your arms felt grounding, a stark contrast to the swirling chaos inside. His eyes locked onto yours, raw with a mix of determination and something deeper. 

“Let me handle this,” he said, voice low and steady, yet somehow soothing amidst the whirlwind. 

“Eddie, no,” you protested, pulling your gaze away. The electricity in his eyes sparked a flicker of hope, but the anger roiling within you demanded attention. 

“Just… trust me ,” he urged, his voice steady as it wrapped around you like a protective shield. The intensity in his gaze pulled at the fraying edges of your resolve, urging you to let go of the anger, if only for a moment.

This time Eddie pushes Steve against his car, seething with anger.Eddie’s hands gripped Steve’s jacket, slamming him against the cold metal of the car. Steve’s eyes widened, the breath knocked from his lungs. “You ever think about how your little pranks can ruin someone’s life?” Eddie demanded, his breath hitching with the weight of pent-up fury.

“Eddie, chill!” Steve gasped, hands bracing against the car as he struggled to find his balance. Panic stirred in his eyes, disbelief mixing with realization as he stammered, “Look, man, it was supposed to be harmless! I didn't know she’d get all worked up over it.”

Eddie's grip tightened, his expression a tempest of anger and hurt. “Harmless? You think making her the butt of your joke is harmless?” he snarled, his voice low and fierce, each word slicing through the simmering tension. 

Steve stumbled over his words, desperation lacing his tone. “I didn’t think—”

" what's going on here? " Robin asks as she walks up to the car. The words hung in the air, a sudden distraction that sliced through the tension. Robin's presence arrived like a breath of fresh air, abrupt and disarming. She tilted her head, arms crossed, a look of bewilderment clouding her face.

" Why is his nose bleeding? Eddie what did you do?" She continued to ask. Eddie released Steve, who slid down the car with a gasp, cradling his nose as he winced. “It’s not what you think, Robin,” Eddie shot back, frustration lacing his voice. He turned to you, eyes still burning with a mix of anger and desperation. You could feel the weight of Robin’s gaze on you, a careful observer caught in the aftermath of something chaotic and unfiltered. 

“Okay, so what’s happening? Because I just saw a punch thrown and now I’m confused.” Robin stepped closer, concern etching into her features as she glanced between you, Eddie, and a dazed Harrington, who was struggling to regain his composure.

Eddie turned to Robin, catching his breath as he rubbed the back of his neck, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Your pal Harrington here decided to treat my girlfriend like a bet,” he said, venom thickening the final word.

“Steve made a bet,”

Robin blinked slowly, her confusion deepening as she processed the accusation. “A bet? On what?” 

Eddie turned his intensity on Steve, the fury still crackling in the air. “On her! He thought I wouldn’t be able to snag a date with her. Said it was a challenge.”

Robin’s mouth hung open, disbelief morphing into a frown. “A date? Are you serious? You're such a dingus!!” She shifted her gaze to Steve.

Steve winced, the gravity of her words sinking in like lead. “It was just a dumb dare, Robin. I thought it’d be funny!” He looked around, desperation spilling from his eyes.

“Funny?” Robin’s voice cut through the air, disbelief etched across her features. “You think betting on someone’s emotions is funny? You were supposed to be better than this, Harrington!”

“That’s enough!” Eddie barked, his hands slamming against the car, fists trembling at his sides. “You need to understand that this isn’t just a game. You don’t treat people as pawns in some ridiculous contest. You never know how it can affect them!”

Robin stepped forward , her jaw set with determination. “This isn’t just about jokes or bets, Steve. You’ve crossed a line. You have to take responsibility for your actions.” She shot a glare at him, her frustration palpable even in the shifting tension.

" I'm sorry" Steve says to you. " I was an idiot" He adds. “An idiot?” Your voice sharpens, the hurt leaking through your words. “You think that covers it?”

Steve fidgets with the collar of his shirt, avoiding your gaze. “I didn ’t mean for it to come out like that. It was just some stupid bet.”

“Stupid bet?” you shot back, eyebrows raised. “You treat people like that for fun?”

“Come on, it wasn’t supposed to be serious. We were just messing around,” Steve stammered, glancing toward the ground.

You think this is funny? You played with my feelings like they were a game, Steve.” 

The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the school parking lot. The fading light wrapped around you like a cold shroud.

“Listen,” he began, " how about free movies for a year?"Your laugh burst out, sharp and humorless. “Movies? You think I’m going to be swayed by popcorn and a flick?” 

" How about driving you to school every morning?" Eddie cuts Steve off, " No your not!"You turned your head, the noise drawing your attention.

How about you let me drive your car whenerver I want? How about you let me put a bet on you and see how you feel?" Steve looks in horror at you. “Do you even hear yourself right now?” Your voice drips with disbelief. 

“Look, I get it. I messed up,” he stammered, hands raised in a half-hearted defense. 

“ Or should I send Hargrove on you?" you asked.Steve’s eyes darted around, scanning for an escape. “Okay, that’s low. You know Hargrove...”

" I'm still here" Eddie says. Eddie leaned against the rusted side of Steve's car, tossing a crumpled soda can into the nearby wastebasket. “And I’d love to hear more about this bet.”

Steve groans, " how about you do the same thing to Nancy as Eddie did to me? Then you'll feel how I feel? Hmm?" you asked. " How about I call Nancy instead?" Eddie raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, you mean turn our sweet little Steve into the town’s biggest villain? I’d love front-row."

“Please don’t,” Steve whispered, his face flushing crimson.

Eddie chuckled, running a hand through his dark curls. “Relax, Harrington. I wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation of being the good guy."

Steve shot Eddie a glare, frustration radiating off him like heat from a fire. “It’s not a joke, Munson. You don’t get it.”

" Look I'm so sorry for making the bet with Eddie. It won't happen again" Steve says to you. You crossed your arms, the bite of his apology doing little to thaw the ice between you. “It’s too late for regrets, Steve. You can’t just wipe this away with an 'I’m sorry' and expect it to all be fine."

Your hand reaches for his keys. " You should walk home, I'll drive Robin home" you smirked. Steve’s eyes widened, panic flickering across his face. “Wait, what? You can’t just—”

“Watch me.” You turned your back on him, the weight of his gaze heavy on your shoulders as you approached Robin.

Eddie is laughing as Steve glares while Robin high fives you. “Now that’s what I call a comeback,” Robin said, her grin wide as she fell in step beside you. 

You slid into the driver’s seat, your hands gripping the wheel, knuckles white. Robin hopped in, a bounce inher step as she settled into the passenger seat. “You know he’s going to sweat bullets all the way home, right?” 

“Good,” you replied, tapping the ignition.

"He's walking for the rest of the week" you tell her. Robin leaned back in her seat, arms crossed, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “You know this whole thing will blow over, right? You’re not really going to drive him crazy forever?” 

" Let see him use those legs first" you pulled down the window shoutign at Steve, " Is that even walking?" Steve stood there, mouth agape, hands thrown up in surrender. 

“Real mature!” he shouted, embarrassment deepening the blush on his cheeks. “You can’t just act like this forever!” 

" This is my game now, Harrington" Eddie is laughing clutching his stomach. " You're not off the hook, Munson." “Let’s not start acting like I’m the villain here,” Eddie shot back, a playful glimmer in his eyes.

" you look like your pissing your pants, Harrington!" you shouted as you pass him driving his car. “Very funny!” Steve called after you, hands balled into fists at his sides. 

You rode the car in step with Steve, smirking. " move those legs, or are you too slow now a days? Is being the babysitter gettign to you?" Steve tossed his hands up in frustration, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “You think this is just a joke, don’t you?” His voice strained against the surge of humiliation.

" your fly is undone anyways" you laughed. Steve's cheeks flared crimson, hands darting to his zipper. “You’re unbelievable!” 

Eddie is driving behind the car, laughing watching it unfolds. 

" You need another leg, Harrington" you laughed watching as he stomped home. Steve growled ready to bang on his own car when you drove further making him chase the car. You pressed the accelerator, the tires screeching against the pavement as the distance between you and Steve widened. 

Behind you, Eddie’s laughter echoed, the sound infectious. 

“Look at him!” Eddie pointed, his voice rising above the roar. " Good luck getting home, Harrington!"

Steve flipped him off.

[ahllohehn]

HERMITS AND THE OLYMPIANS MASTERPOST (07/31/2024)

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

Hermits and The Olympians/Emperors of Olympus is a Hermitcraft/Empires SMP based Percy Jackson AU based off my art and headcanons!

(Please do not use the tags for other PJO AUs as I use them to specifically label what's based off mine.)

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

Seperated by art/doodles, headcanons/discussion, fanfics:

# 1 MUMBO PORTRAIT # 2 GRIAN, PEARL, SCAR & MUMBO ART # 3 HaTO FAN CREATION GUIDELINES # 4 GEM, CLEO, DOC PORTRAITS # 5 ETHO & BDUBS THANK YOU CARD # 6 STRESSMONSTER THANK YOU CARD # 7 CAMP EMPIRES FIRST APPEARANCE; BAD BOYS DOODLE # 8 OUTDATED CAMPERS GODLY PARENT SUMMARY # 9 CHIBI MUMBO THANK YOU CARD # 10 GRIAN CLOSE UP # 10.5 WATCHERS CAMEO??? # 11 BDUBS & SCAR; DEMETER CABIN'S HONORARY CAMPER # 12 RENDOG PORTRAIT # 13 MUMSCARIAN / RE: AU SHIPS # 14 IS THERE A CANON PLOT? Answer: I stick with what is canon to me, but I do not force others to follow so. As I am too lazy to do an actual plot. # 15 CHIBI STRESS & MUMBO # 16 BDUBS..? # 17 ETHO PORTRAIT / 1ST AU FICLET # 18 I JUST THINK THEATER KID ARES KID REN IS FUNNY # 19 JOEL AND LIZZIE; SOULMATES IN EVERY UNIVERSE # 20 ORACLE GEM...? # 21 oh snappers! (LOW QUALITY ETHO DOODLE) # 22 AT THIS POINT, DIONYSUS, ARES, AND APOLLO SHOULD FIGHT TO THE DEATH TO SEE WHO GETS CUSTODY OF REN # 23 SKIZZ & IMPULSE PORTRAITS / HEADCANONS # 24 ZEDAPH PORTRAIT

# 25 Camp Oracle’s Journal; Hermits and The Olympians # 26 GRIAN - THE DEATHLY ACTIVITIES MANAGER # 27 ISKALL & TANGO PORTRAITS # 28 KERALIS & XISUMA'S PERSONALLY MADE CAMP PIN # 29 I REALLY LIKE MAKING FUN OF REN /AFFE # 30 I ALSO REALLY LIKE INCLUDING MARTYN INTO THE MIX /AFFE

# 31 TREEBARK ARE MY BOYFAILURES # 32 RENDERED CAMP LOGOS (PNGS IN DISCORD SERVER) # 33 SHELBY & SCOTT PORTRAITS # 34 ETHUBS MY BELOVEDS :) # 35 INTRODUCING: GIGGS # 36 RE: CAMP EMPIRES AND CAMP HERMITCRAFT DOUBLES # 37 LET OLD MEN BOND LIKE OLD MEN (ETHO & TANGO) # 38 OFFICIAL HaTO DISCORD SERVER ANNOUNCEMENT # 39 MYTHICALSAUSAGE PORTRAIT # 40 XISUMA PORTRAIT # 41 HaTO FIRST COMIC SHITPOST # 42 FALSE, KERALIS, & BEEF PORTRAITS # 43 WELS & HYPNO PORTRAITS # 44 MUMSCARIAN FIRST MEETING DOODLE # 45 WHY IS WELS AN ATHENA KID? # 46 HOW IS GEM THE ORACLE # 47 HaTO SECOND COMIC SHITPOST (PRIDE MONTH) # 48 DESERT DUO ANIMATIC; INSPIRED BY BEAN'S TRAITOR SCAR FIC

# 49 MARTYN PORTRAIT / HEADCANONS # 50 IF SCAR WERE TO BE APHRODITE'S.... # 51 REN VS JARS # 52 LIZZIE PORTRAIT # 53 HaTO SCAR & GEM EMOTES # 54 HaTO CHIBIS BOUQUET DOODLE # 55 GRIAN AND HIS SON # 56 KATHERINE ELIZABETH PORTRAIT # 57 MUMSCARIAN MATCHING ICONS FOR PRIDE # 58 HOW ARE YEAR ROUNDERS GETTING EDUCATION? # 59 SHINY DUO MATCHING ICONS # 60 AROACE PEARL (PRIDE MONTH) # 61 BISEXUAL CLEO (PRIDE MONTH) # 62 CAMP CUDDLE SESSIONS # 63 TREEBARK COMEBACK # 64 When Does a Man Become a Monster?; Hermits and The Olympians

# 65 BOAT BOYS MATCHING ICONS # 66 WHAT DOIN'? CAMP HERMITCRAFT EDITION # 67 "I'M A CHILD OF DIVORCE" GESTURES TO ETHUBS # 68 MORE ETHUBS HEADCANONS CUS IM GAY AND SO ARE THEY # 69 DO NOT ANGER THE NON-ZOMBIE WOMAN, MR. ETHO # 70 NATURE WIVES # 71 I COMPLAIN ABOUT THE HEPHAESTUS CABIN'S ABILITIES # 72 TREEBARK MATCHING ICONS # 73 OLI PORTRAIT & HEADCANONS # 74 IT'S NOT ME IF THERE'S NO ETHUBS # 75 WELCOME TO HERMITCRAFT: GRIAN TEXT ADVENTURE # 76 GEM'S ORACLE CAVE TOUR

#77 THE BOYS (+ GEM) GO SHOPPING FOR SUITS #78 PEARL CHARACTER CARD #79 Camper Files; Hermits and The Olympians #80 STRESS PORTRAIT #81 CUBFAN PORTRAIT #82 FWHIP PORTRAIT

#83 PIXLRIFFS PORTRAIT #84 RANCHERS #85 WHY DO I HAVE SO MUCH TREEBARK IN MY INBOX? #86 IDK HOW SAD I'M SUPPOSED TO MAKE SCOTT #87 LONG TIME, NO NATURE WIVES? #88 AREN'T WE ALL A LITTLE SILLY FOR GRIAN SOMETIMES? #89 I HOPE YOU ALL KNOW I JUST BE SAYING ANYTHING ATP

# SECOND MASTERPOST LINK

OTHER HaTO Related Links:

HaTO Roleplay Blogs Masterpost by gem-the-oracle HaTO Archive of Our Own Series HaTO Discord Server

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Rafayel: Pouty Portraits | Drabble

So @la-spooky ended up inspiring me to make this little drabble of the fish on accident. You know, when inspiration hits, you go with it. Now personally I can't draw at all, my artistic talents ends at being able to string words into pretty stories, but I hope you artists out there enjoy this. Even if you don't consider yourself an artist and just doodle, this is for you.

Pairing: Rafayel x Reader Warning: N/A Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

Art was something of a guilty pleasure. You wouldn’t say you were an expert at it, especially not when compared to your boyfriend, Rafayel, but you certainly weren’t bad at it by any means. It was just something you couldn’t do often; you had your career to think about, which would always come first. It was something you had to sacrifice in order to stay focused on your mission, even if it was painful.

Still, as you relaxed in the studio, bored out of your mind, you couldn’t help but want to go back to those days where you’d laze about your room with a sketchpad and some music to keep you company. You looked over at your boyfriend who was promptly passed out on the couch after having pulled another all nighter. He had invited you over for a date, but by the time you arrived exhaustion had already taken him.

You hadn’t the heart to wake him up, so you did your best to entertain yourself until he woke up. Originally you had taken to playing on your phone, a few mobile apps and social media was enough to catch your attention for a while. The longer you sat around though, the more tempted you had gotten.

Rafayel had his studio littered with sketchbooks in every corner so he’d never have to worry about looking for one when inspiration hit. You were certain he wouldn’t notice a few pages going missing after you ripped them out.

With that in mind, you grabbed hold of one of the sketchbooks that had been teasing you, and some pencils to sketch with. You flipped open the pages, your heart blooming with affection at the gorgeous sketches that were in the book. You finally found a blank page and sighed. It almost felt like you were committing a crime, drawing in a sketchbook like this. His artwork was flawless, and you…well you could draw at least.

You sighed and grabbed your phone, popping in some headphones and listening to music. You took one more glance at your sleeping boyfriend before deciding to just draw him. So you did, mainly just several headshots to help you get into the groove of making art.

You didn’t even know how much time had passed as you moved to the third page, ready to draw your sleeping boyfriend since he was right there. Your eyes went upwards to where he was…or had been. You blinked in confusion, noticing Rafayel was noticeably not on the couch anymore.

Your head swiveled for a moment before suddenly you were staring directly into those sunset eyes. Your own widened in surprise and your brain buffered before you let out a shrill scream. You clutched the book close to your chest as you backed up. You could hear Rafayel's jovial laughing through your headphones, which you promptly ripped out to scold him.

“Raf, what the fuck, when did you wake up?” You said, glaring at him. Amusement swam in those beautiful eyes of his as he reached over and took the sketchbook out of your hands.

“Were you drawing me?” He said, looking at the pages of headshot sketches you had done. You felt a small blush creeping up your cheeks as you tried to be stern with him.

“Answering my question with a totally off topic question isn’t what I wanted, you know.” You huffed, going to take the book back, but he pulled it closer to him.

“These are really good, you captured my essence perfectly…why didn’t you ever tell me you could draw?” Rafayel said, never looking up from the sketches. You groaned and looked away, feeling bashful as a true, recognized artist looked at your crude warm up pieces.

“It’s just an old pastime of mine, nothing more.” You said, “Sorry I used your stuff, I should’ve asked.” You admitted.

“What’s mine is yours.” He said offhandedly, “Still, can I keep these? I really like them.” He said and you looked confused for a moment before nodding.

“If you really want to, I guess you can. They’re in your sketchbook after all.” You shrugged, “Why would you want them anyway? You could do a way better self portrait.”

“I don’t want a self portrait made by me…although I have to ask why did you draw this expression on me?” He said, pointing at all of your sketches having a similar theme.

“Your pouting face was…inspiring.” You settled on; Rafayel didn’t look amused by this, in turn showing you that adorable pout. He looked away for a moment before getting an idea. A smile gracing his pretty face.

“Well how about you do a proper drawing of me.” He started, leaning close with a sly grin, “You can draw me from reference. I’ll sit however you want, just make sure to get my good angle…wait never mind, that would be all my angles.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you fought your inner emotional turmoil, “Okay, but it won’t look good, you know?” You pointed out. Rafayel's eyes furrowed in a confused expression, his hand cupping your chin to make you look at him.

“Anything you make is breathtaking.” He said, “I wouldn’t ask anyone to draw me. I’m very selective. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Cocky bastard.” You said, but didn’t bother to slap his hand away, “But fine…I’ll sketch you but on one condition.”

Rafayel smirked, “And what would that be?”

“Later you…need to give me a drawing lesson or two.” You said and his eyes widened in surprise before taking a soft turn.

“Sure, but why are you suddenly so interested in drawing when you said it was just a pastime…unless you deceived me earlier.” He said, trying to lighten the mood. He could see the unsure expression on your face as you stared off to the side.

“Because drawing like this again reminded me how much I enjoyed it.” Even though you knew you needed to focus on being a good hunter and a steller bodyguard…perhaps you can give yourself some enjoyment in your life again. Art was freeing and you had dearly missed it.

Rafayel's hand was still on your chin as he forced your eyes back on him. He pressed his forehead against your own and stared into your eyes, “Anytime you want to relax and draw, just let me know.” He said, clearly realizing just how stressed you had been.

You smiled, relaxing into his touch, “Fine…shall we get started? Things are getting a bit too depressing in here.” You joked. Rafayel's grin seemed to spread once more.

“Sure…so did you want to do a nude sketch ooooor?”

“Oh my god Raf, just lay on the damn couch…clothes on.”

Hope y'all enjoyed this one! It was fun to write, and honestly I think formatting this took longer than the actual writing lol.

[docwritesshit]

hihi!!! can I request a traffic light trio x fem!goddess reader please!! (all separate head cannons!!)

Oooo this’ll be fun!

Traffic light trio x Fem!Goddess!Reader

Redson

With this one, yall met a celestial event

One look across the room and this one became so curious

You were someone newer, under the wing of Quanyin and still learning the ropes but getting the hang of it quite easily

So you two met, begrudgingly under Quanyins guidance

But Reds was very… nice and polite. Very different from the stories you heard

Then things evolved and here you were dating!

She visits you more often than you visit her, mostly because his father likes to joke they took after him

PIF and DBK both approve of this btw. They would be hypocrites not to.

Gifts and trinkets they made decorate your walls, however they are more mystical in nature

Loves loves loves when you send gifts back. Likes the the little swans you make to actually fly down to him the most

Dates consist of you guys walking the celestial heavens all day any day

Letters travel back and forth between you two a lot because yall are both pretty busy

What you don’t know is that they save all of the letters in order to craft you a swan of your own made up of the love he has for you

Cuddle up to him and watch them combust

MK

Ok he may have flown a bit too high while in his bird form and smacked you in the face-

Instantly transforming back and apologizing profusely

Then he gets stars in his eyes once he really looks at you

“Wow… you might be the goddess of my dreams- SORRY THAT SLIPPED OUT!”

Poor boy, he’s too cute for his own good

Once you start dating, he sends you so many doodles he’s made of you

So. Many. Doodles.

Even makes you a whole ass portrait for your anniversary

Yall both go to Flower Fruit Mountain for dates

Wukong keeps to himself, but gives MK proud smirks so damn often

Loves cuddling you. Snug as a bug in a rug when you hold him with all your robes flowing around

Makes you food. Is very particular on how he makes it cause you’re a goddess-

Loves star gazing with you and hearing all the stories you tell about different constellations

Oh my god he’s so fucking cute I can’t express how endearing it is

Would try and replicate a clay pot he saw and it would come out a muddled mess and you still cherish that thing

You are so protective of him if any other celestial tries to criticize you for dating the pupil of that “menace of a primate”

He has and will faint if you coo over him being cute. Do it, it’ll be funny

Mei

Honestly, pure fucking coincidence you two met

You were talking with the her uncle and she decided to crash in for a visit

Took one look at you and went “oh, cute. Imma keep her!”

And so you two are dating now-

Dates take place in Megalopolis mostly, she doesn’t really like the celestial realm and you haven’t seen a lot of the modern world

Likes to take you on motorcycle rides the most. The gleam in your eyes pales to the sun in her mind

Gives you her jacket if you get cold, even if you pint out you can just summon one of your own.

Loves doing your hair. Trying out different hairstyles is so fun.

Gets you a phone. Then sends you songs that remind her of you. You have so many playlists from her

Teaches you hand to hand combat with weapons because you never know when you need it

Loves hanging you off her arm and bragging how she bagged a “goddess”

You wanna know what’ll get her weak as well? Do her own hair. Face will be beat red. Do it.

That’s all :3

[obsessedwrhys]

Aesthete

(adj.) Someone with a deep sensitivity to the beauty of art or nature

ᶻ ���� 𐰁 .ᐟ where Abby let's you draw a portrait of her

c/w: fluff, reader is female because I refuse to believe she's straight 😡, abby being insecure (?), gun talk, some cursing, just two lesbos bickering like a married couple, kissing, did not proof read this!!

ᯓ★

Inside your shared room, you somehow found yourself painting on another canvas after just telling yourself you'd be done with your last one. Since you were a kid, you've always been drawn towards anything that had to do with brushes and colours. It was better spending your time painting rather than talking to people, they were always rude or just straight off insensitive. All except for someone...

Abby...

She always adored your skills. Everytime you were assigned to go on patrols together, she would just peek her head from behind your shoulder to see what you were doodling in your journal. Out of everyone you knew, she was the one constantly bragging about your drawings to her friends. And you guys aren't even dating!!

Yet... which you always liked to tell yourself.

With your brush applying another soft stroke on the canvas, you started to grow bored of it, another idea already crawling up from the back of your mind. Maybe you could try doing a portrait, you have the experience but you just don't have the subject. Almost out of instinct, you knew who to find. Pretty much the only person you'd figure would be fine with this.

Abandoning your brush and pallette on the round chair, you decided to leave and try to find Abby. It wasn't hard to find her since she would spend almost all of her time in the gym. Swinging open the glass door, you headed in and walked past several other WLFs who were also training, your eyes glued to one person.

There she was, doing bench presses as usual.

You decided to stop a few feet away from where she was, almost like you were in a trance from watching her biceps flex each time she lifted the heavy weight. Not wanting to be seen as a creep, which you already have, you walked closer to make your presence known. "Hey Abby" You said with a smile. Your voice startling her a bit.

"Oh, hey" She said before setting the weight back to its rightful place. She sits up on the bench as she looks at you with a friendly smile. "You need anything?" She said, always kind and polite towards you that it somehow made you feel all giddy inside.

"I was wondering if you'd liked to be the subject of a portrait I'm doing" You said and your words struck her a bit. She looked like she just received news of something big. "Uhh... if you're worried about the portrait turning out ugly, I promise I'll be extra focused on the details" You said, figuring if that was the reason behind her reaction.

"Huh? Ah no, I wasn't worried about that. I'm just surprised you'd pick me" She chuckles awkwardly as she stands up, her height scaring you a bit. "Did you expect me to pick someone else?" You asked, the two of you walking side by side.

"Well... maybe I figured you'd choose someone more... elegant" She said, holding the door open for you to go first. "Elegant?" You scoff out of amusement.

"Didn't you show me one of your books? Where all of the people drawn were wearing those tight dresses and having their hair up so high" Abby said, recalling the memory.

"Pssh, that's different, trust me, I know what I'm doing" You opened the door to your room, inviting her inside.

"Whatever you say" She responded with a playful smile. Once you closed the door, her eyes were already examining around the room that's messy from all of your art stuff.

"Seems like you didn't take my advice" She said, looking at the stack of books you had thrown along with the pile of discontinued drawings.

"I'll do that later" You said dismissively since you realised everytime you cleaned your supplies, you were always gonna use it and make a mess anyways, best to save it for a day where you have the energy to clean.

"Soo uhh... what do I...?" Abby walks over to where you're busy setting a brand new canvas.

"You can just sit at the sofa so you can be right in front of me" You said, putting everything in place and she just does what you instructed. She finds herself seated in front of you and it somehow made her shy. Does she pose or...? This is all new to her.

"You can move your body around a bit, just try not to move your head a lot, so uh... relax" You said, already picking up your brush. "Got it" She said as she leans back onto the cushion.

With your focus on the portrait, you failed to notice the way she was watching you, her gaze was full of warmth and admiration. She was eyeing your every move as if she was watching a film.

"I never got to ask, how did you learn to paint?" Abby said and it made you stop in your act to think it over. "Can't remember exactly when, I just knew it was fun to do so I kept doing it" You simply responded and she smiles softly at your answer. "Fun huh? Is that why you're doing a portrait of me?" She said and her playful tone made you almost freeze in place.

"I guess you could say that" You said, your hand carefully doing the shades of her face. The room remained quiet for a moment, just faint sounds of your brush mixing together different colours on your pallete. "Can you lift your head up a bit?" You asked and she does just that. "Perfect" You said and quickly press your brush back on the canvas.

Your eagerness had her struggle to contain a smile. "If only you were this passionate about your gun training" She said since this was a topic that you could care less about.

"I don’t really like guns, it's too violent for me"

"True... but its also the reason why you're still alive. C'mon, at least fix your aim" She said which had you turn to look at her.

"Whats wrong with my aim?"

"Errr..." She trails off, struggling to find the right words but you were well aware of what she was trying to say. "Just try not to have your bullets flying everywhere" She said, her response having you raise an eyebrow at her.

"... don't make me draw a hairy moustache on you" You threatened which had her laugh.

"Am I supposed to find that scary?" She asked to which you pointed the end of your paintbrush at her to warn her to be careful of her next words. This action just encouraging her even more but for her sake of not wanting a horrendous looking moustache on her portrait, she'll stop.

After a while, she let's out a soft sigh. "Getting tired?" You asked, your face hidden by the canvas so she couldn't see you.

"A bit" She admitted with an embarrassed chuckle. Your head peaks from the side of canvas, trying to mimic the sweat that was still present on her forehead due to her earlier workout.

Without even realising, you were basically staring at her face a little too hard. It was funnier from Abby's perspective cause all she could see was your pair of eyes staring at her so intensely. "Am I too far away? You're looking pretty hard" She joked, pointing out how your brows were slightly narrowed.

You ended up shushing her which she found amusing. "I'm thinking, don't disrupt my thoughts" You said.

"Yes ma'am"

After a couple of minutes, you managed to finish the portrait, just a few details here and there then you were finally satisfied with yourself. "You can get up now" You said as you carefully added some tiny dots or lines. Abby pushed herself off the sofa and stood beside you.

"Damn" She said, blown away by the portrait you had done of her. It was like a reflection in a mirror. "What are you gonna do with it?" Abby asked as you stepped back to finally admire your work. "I don't know... maybe I'll hang it up somewhere in my room" You said. This caught her interest almost immediately. "You want a portrait of me in your room?" She asked, seeming embarrassed.

"Well do you want it in your room?" You asked which made her go silent.

"It's fine, I really don't mind, you'd be surprised by how many scary things I've painted and displayed on my walls" You said, carefully picking up the canvas and moving it to the other side of the room. Abby simply follows you with her arms folded.

"Comparing my face to scary things doesn't make it sound any better" She said and you could sense a tiny hint of frustration in her tone which had you chuckle to yourself. "Stop being a baby and help me hang this up" You said after finding a open spot on the wall to put it.

"You.are.unbelievable" She shakes her head slightly with a defeated smile as she takes the canvas from your hand before standing on the chair to hang it on to the nail.

Once she was done, she stepped down from the chair to stand beside you. The two of you now staring at the portrait.

"I have to admit, you're really gifted" Abby said and it made you turn your head to look at her. "Thanks" You smiled at her compliment. The second she turns to look at you, you felt yourself melt at her stare as if her blue eyes were hypnotising you. You swore for a second you could see hearts popping up around her.

Why is she looking at you like that?

Like you're the single most beautiful thing she has ever seen

"If you uh don't mind... could I stay for a while?" She asked, her voice so soft it was intoxicating.

"Sure" You blurted out without even thinking twice.

Noticing how flustered you looked, Abby tilts her head with a grin. "You okay?" She asked but her tone was anything but concern, it was like she was teasing you, knowing the effect she had on you.

"Yeahh, I'm good" You turned around and began walking back to your supplies, feeling as though you needed to escape her presence quickly to be able to think straight.

"Are you sure? Cause you looked like you wanted to kiss me just now" She said and it stopped you from reaching out to your brushes. Your mind was short circuiting.

Fuck this woman...

"And what if I said I wanted to?" You managed to say since it was easier that you weren't looking at her.

Suddenly you could hear her footsteps approaching you from behind, almost like each step she took added a weight in your chest. The tension on you shoulders relaxed the moment you felt her hands placed on them, gently, she turned you around to have you face her.

"Then kiss me" She said, no, pleaded. Her face showing how much she also wanted this.

You leaned in closer to her, the two of you haven't even kissed yet but just from the feeling of your chests pressed together made you both breathless. Eventually you pressed your lips on hers, taking it slow as you wanted to savour this moment, but it didn't last long as the desperation started to grew.

Within seconds, you were kissing Abby hard and she did the same, her hand wrapped around the back of your neck while the other is placed on your hip. The kiss was messy. Your hands grabbing at whatever you could on her body as you were completely lost in the taste of her.

Your touch was driving her crazy as well, thinking back to the countless nights of how she much she wanted this. To have you this close, to have you melt just from her lips. Out of breath and feeling tired, you pulled away but Abby didn't let you and quickly pulled you back in for another kiss. Her action causing you to yelp and for a sec she felt her stomach flip. She chuckles.

"So pretty" She muttered before pressing her lips back on yours again and again, not wanting the moment to end.

"Abby..." You laid your hands on her arms and she pulled back to admire you. The mess she had made of you.

"Yes...?" She said, gently caressing your face.

"You keep kissing me and I'm gonna pass out" You said and your words had her chuckle softly.

"Sorry, can't help it when your lips are so sweet" She said, her thumb rubbing on your cheek affectionately.

"Did you think this would happen when you asked me to come over?" She asks.

"Ummm... maybe?" You said. You had a feeling something might happen but you never thought it'd turn out like this.

"I've just liked you for a very long time but I wasn't sure you felt the same" You confessed and her smile grew wider.

"Seriously? What, was me bragging about you to everyone not obvious enough? Should I have been starting a fan club for you so you'd find out better?" She teased and you smacked her on the shoulder playfully.

"Maybe you should, then I'd know that you actually liked me" She sighs, pretending to act like she's regretting this missed opportunity.

"You're right. Maybe if I did start a massive fan club dedicated to you, we would of had this kiss sooner" She said, leaning in closer to have her forehead rested on yours.

"Well we're here now aren't we?" You looked up at her, a smirk on your face.

"True" She then started to move and you couldn't help but let your eyes flutter close, waiting for her to kiss you again but somehow the feeling of her lips on yours never came.

You opened your eyes and found her actually moving her lips inches away from your ears instead. "How about we clean your room now, hm?" She said which had you in disbelief. She was now reminding you of how dirty your room is after just kissing you.

"If tidying up my things is so much fun then sure" You moved away from her but she was quick to follow you.

"If I get to spend more time with you, I don't see anything boring about it" Abby said, already on to arrange your stack of unorganised books. You watch her with a look of gratitude, knowing this mess is gonna take a very long time to clean.

"Thanks Abs"

"You can thank me with a kiss after we're done" She shoot you a cheeky smile which had you roll your eyes with the corner of your lips curving upwards.

"Fine" You stood beside her to help with putting your books in order. Seeing how focused you were, Abby couldn't help but have her hip nudging yours on purpose to get your attention. You chuckle, knowing this cleaning session is gonna take a while.

(Now I'm gonna do super duper angst Ellie, this plot has been stuck on my mind 😄)

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

✧˚ · .Painting their portrait ✧˚ · .

Note: I hope everyone is doing well 💖 I hope you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it 💖 If you want to commission me check my ko-fi and pinned post for prices. Thank you!

When he found out about your talent, he immediately bought you the most expensive equipment. Whether you like to paint on a canvas or on a graphic tablet, he will buy you only the best products. 

He's very old-fashioned and wants a classic portrait. He'll arrange a proper setting to fit his taste. With a fireplace in the background, an expensive suit, and some other decoration that screams old money, he’ll sit with his legs crossed in his comfy chair while he looks at you. A soft smile would appear on his face, especially when you two locked eyes. You thought about painting that lovely smile and contouring those sweet dimples, but you know him better and chose to leave a stoic expression on his face. His soft side is for your eyes only. 

He won’t mind sitting for hours because he'll have the greatest company. You two will gossip about the hottest tea at work, talk about his latest projects, and besides that, he'll have his romantic moments when he tells you how much he cherishes you. 

The final result leaves him in awe.

"Darling, this is astonishing." He said, amber eyes studying every inch of the canvas and feeling an immense sense of pride washing over him. He couldn't take his eyes off your masterpiece.

"I knew you had it in you," he began after a short period of total silence. "Yet you managed to exceed my expectations."

You breathe a sigh of relief. Even if he was your boyfriend, it was hard to please him. He didn't coddle you, so when he praised you, you knew it was real. 

He will hang that portrait with pride in his office, and he’ll tell everyone with pride that his partner made the incredible art.

With the corner of his eye, he noticed how you kept shifting your gaze from your notebook to him. Sometimes you'd stare longer at him, and sometimes your hand would go faster and then slower as if you were trying to remember something. Sometimes, you would scratch your head with the pencil and sighed in frustration. 

Whatever you were doodling, it wasn't coming along as you wanted.

Not being able to control his curiosity anymore, he slowly approached your desk. 

"Whatcha doing there?" he asked, looking over your shoulder, directly in the notebook. A wide smile appeared shortly. 

You didn't hide the page in time, and Leon saw the sketches with his face. You drew him from three different angles. Even if you were in a hurry, you still captured his soft features—his genuine smile and his gentle gaze.

"I- uh-I..." you fumbled, hands going in random directions over the paper.

"You don't have to hide it. I think it looks good." He smirked and went back to his desk. 

"Thanks. Listen, I was taking a break, and I felt a bit of inspiration coming in-"

"You don't have to excuse yourself." He chucked and turned to face you. In that moment, you saw a faint blush on his cheeks. "I think it looks great, given how fast you draw."

"And given how much you fidget,"

He chuckled. 

"Seriously, man, lay off that coffee." 

You both laughed, making some people turn their attention to you out of curiosity. A quick glance around, and you quiet down a bit. 

"If you want to finish, I'll try my best to stand still." 

"I would appreciate that." 

You both smiled at each other. Time went by fast, and by the time you finished, the office was empty. None of you felt the time passing by as you got to know each other better. Leon loved his portraits and "stole" your notebook. 

He loved everything you did. Every gesture, every tic, everything was just perfect for him. 

What he cherished most was your talent when it came to art. Everything you touched turned into a masterpiece, something so beautiful that it can’t be described by a simple man. So, when you wanted to paint him, he looked at you in shock. 

"Me?" 

"Yes, you." 

"Why?" he chuckled. 

"Because I want to. And because I want an excuse to stare at your picture for hours while you are away on missions." 

He pulled you closer and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

"Alright. Make sure to highlight my good side." 

"As if you have a bad one." 

Despite loving how affectionate and supportive you were with him, he never understood why. He viewed himself as a rough, cranky man who got on everyone's nerve. For short, an asshole. But to you, he wasn't like that. Despite the hardships in his life, he still maintained a soft gaze. 

Naturally, he wondered why you wanted him to be part of your beautiful portfolio. And more importantly, did he deserve to be part of it?

For the next couple of days, he waited for you to finish. He would peek in your room to see the progress, but you didn't let him. You wanted to surprise him.

When he came back from his mission, arriving in your comfy apartment, you shoved your art in front of his face. 

"Do you like it?" you asked excitedly.

He reluctantly took the canvas and stared at it for a few seconds. It's not that he didn't like it. It's the fact that he didn't recognize himself. His scars weren’t so prominent, his eyes weren't so full of sadness and anger, and his lips were curved in a soft smile. His features were softer, friendlier, even. 

“This… I know it’s me, but it feels like I’m looking at a stranger.”

"Why do you say that?”

“It feels like you retouched my face.”

“Hmm, no, this is how you look in real life. You're not as tough-looking as you think."

He loves it regardless, and he loves you even more. 

His muse in this life was you. Every time he looked at you, every time he saw your pretty face, his mood would lighten up in a heartbeat. A catastrophe at the moment would turn into something insignificant, something he could overcome with ease.

What he loved most about you was your talent. He was amazed at the beautiful things you could create with your hands, unlike him. He found refuge in your art, staring at your finished and unfinished projects for hours.

"Mi dulzura, what masterpieces are you creating?"

"Thank you, mi rey. Wanna be part of them?"

He smiled. He approached you with light footsteps, rubbing your shoulders gently when he reached your back.

"I'd be honoured."

He was thrilled. Being fascinated by your talent, he wanted to ask you long ago, but he didn't want to overcrowd you as you had many projects and clients. He didn't want to put more pressure. He simply told you that he doesn't want anything fancy.

He waited every day for you to finish, barely containing himself from asking dozens of questions. You had to kick him out multiple times from your room because you wanted to surprise him.

"Luis," you called out, "it's done!"

He came in a hurry, and as expected, he loved the result. He wouldn't stop praising you for creating another masterpiece.

"This is...I have no words. It's simply stunning."

"Well, you are stunning," you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I guess I really am your Prince Charming."

You chuckled and were ready to say something, but he caught your lips in a quick, gentle kiss.

From that moment on, he becomes your one and only muse. You'd paint him in various poses and various clothes, sometimes with you as well. He would sit near you, watching you do your magic without saying a word. He loves and respects what you do a lot.