#i never end up finishing drawings (which is why i usually never post it)

[rynpie]

felt the need to doodle lilia

[stonesense]

*although she's technically considered a surface dwarf, she spent most of her life underground in the Grand Necropolis, so I like to think she still retains some Stone sense.

Thank you @riessene for the template!

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Bad for Me — Cassian x Reader

Hi! I found this in my drafts and thought I’d share it while I’m finishing up the next part of Bluebird. I’m not sure why I never posted it 🤔maybe because I don’t think it’s very well written. Also, it seems I was using a prompt list for parts of dialogue in this, but I can’t for the life of me think which one it was 😅but anyway, enjoy an angsty piece with an angsty cliffhanger ending 💅🏻

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: None.

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“What the fuck is this?”

There wasn’t a part of you that didn’t shake with anger as you stormed your way into the sitting room. Anger that had built up and festered as the day had faded into night.

It was late. You’d waited up — waited for the telltale, arrogantly loud footsteps that had announced Cassian’s return. Where he’d been all day, you didn’t know nor care.

Sure enough, you found him in his usual chair by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey rested on the arm and his eyes closed. His fingers rubbed circles into his forehead — a positive sign that he was sporting a particularly gruelling headache.

Good. You would yell into his ear until he launched himself off one of the verandas and flew far, far away.

“What is this?” You repeated, chucking the item you held straight onto his lap.

His eyes slowly opened, and he glanced down impassively. “That’s a piece of paper. It’s useful for writing, or drawing, or—”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

It had surprised you, to say the least, to wake up to the folded note on your bedside table — in Cassian’s rough scrawl.

Find yourself a pretty little dress. Don’t make any plans for Friday next. We’re going dancing. Cassian.

“Explain.” You demanded, your tone clipped. Brash.

You didn’t want to go dancing with Cassian. Or walking, or running, or…anything.

It was bad enough living under the same roof as him. Working in the same circle as him. Bad enough having to be civil in the name of a unified front.

But you were professional. You could pretend to get along in front of people.

That didn’t mean you had to socialise with him, though.

With a sigh, he sat up straighter, brushing his hair back. “Rhys is having me play courtier again.”

Your head cocked to the side. “But you’re so terrible at it.”

The minuscule pause and tick of his jaw told you you’d landed a sure blow. A nervy spot, for Cassian, was certainly his abilities off the battlefield. Why Rhys insisted on sending the General on certain courtier expeditions was beyond your comprehension. And beyond Cassian’s, too, judging by how much he hated it.

You took no small amount of pleasure in that fact. A little payback for all the ways he’d torn you down over the years.

“Hilarious.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“I wasn’t joking.”

“Whatever. Rhys is having me represent him at a fucking ball in the Hewn City and I need a plus-one, so — you’re coming.”

Your shoulders tensed. “Absolutely not. Ask somebody else.”

“There’s no way I’m putting Mor through that. And she’s in Vallahan, anyway.”

“So take Amren with you.”

“Be real, Y/N.”

You stared at him, clenching your jaw. You hated him. Hated him so, so much — loathed him — that you swore your veins turned to ice around him. Ever since you’d met him, and you’d taken one look at him and thought he was the most beautiful male you’d ever seen. 

You’d sworn never to fall in love again, when you’d joined Rhysand’s Inner Circle — and seeing Cassian go through flings like you went through books only solidified that decision.

Hate was a good thing. Hate was something you could pour all your anger into and throw at the person that seeped into your thoughts a little too often.

And dish that hate out you may, but gods Cassian gave it back just as fiercely.

“Ask one of your many lovers.” You spat. “You have your cock in a different female every week. I can’t imagine you’re short on admirers.”

Cassian stretched his arms over his head. “And how many admirers do you have, Y/N?”

You tried your best not to flinch. To let him see the effect his words had on you was as bad as him thrusting a dagger into your gut. You willed yourself to give nothing away.

“Just find somebody else.” You said. “There’s not a fucking chance I’m going anywhere with you, of all people.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond. You turned on your feet and stalked from the room, leaving the note on his lap and your barbed words hanging heavy in the air.

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Three nights later, your bedroom door burst open so abruptly that you dropped your book on your face.

“Pause your masturbation for five minutes.” Cassian’s deep, arrogant voice filled the room. “I have your dress.”

You sat up, your entire body tensing the way it always did in his presence. “What.”

He kicked the door shut behind him, and even in your considerably-sized bedroom, his domineering figure seemed to take up most of the space. He strode to the foot of your bed — and paused, just for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of your nightgown, your unbound hair.

You didn’t have a chance to remark before he straightened himself out and launched a flash of pale pink fabric at you.

“For the ball.” He said. “I checked your size and asked the shopkeeper to pick it out, so…if you don’t like it, I don’t really give a fuck.”

Your eyes fell down to the dress in your lap. Undeniably pretty, with its rosy hue and flaring skirt, thin straps and tiny, beaded jewels. A dress you would probably choose for yourself, if the occasion called for it.

You’d always loved clothes; dresses in particular. The intricacies of certain garments fascinated you, and the thought of creating your own made your heart skip a beat.

You thought you’d feel pretty in this dress; prettier than you usually felt, in your leathers or shirts and breeches. It wasn’t all that often that you had an occasion to dress up for.

But even this gown wouldn’t convince you to accept Cassian’s invitation. Or, rather, his order.

You pushed the dress away from you, though your fingers lingered within the soft fabric. “You’re absolutely fucking insane if you think I’m going to that ball with you.”

Cassian’s eyes fell to where your hands stroked the skirts, before climbing back up to meet yours. The bastard knew what you were feeling. He fucking knew.

“Oh, you so want to.” He smirked. “I can see it in your eyes.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “So it’s a nice dress. I’m sure one of your many sexual escapades would appreciate it.”

The General’s head tilted, a few strands ripping from the loose knot his hair was tied into. “What is it about my sex life that bothers you so much?”

That you’re free to even have such a sex life without judgement. That you will never know what it’s like to be ostracised just for exploring such things. That you can fuck who you like with no repercussions. That it isn’t me you’re—

“Don’t mistake me for someone who gives a shit about anything you do.” You bit. “I just wouldn’t want such a nice dress to be wasted.”

“It won’t be. Because you’ll be wearing it to the ball on Friday.”

“No.” You threw the dress back at him. Picked your book back up. “I will not.”

“I’m going to hang it on the door.”

“Don’t bother.”

He ignored you, of course. The dress was hung. “We’ll be leaving at seven.”

“No we won’t.”

“We will.”

He pulled your bedroom door open, slipping out.

“Cassian?” You called, and there was a strong pause.

He poked his head back in. “What?”

“I’m not going to that damned ball with you.”

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You were going to that damned ball with him.

High Lord’s orders, your ass. You’d kill Rhys for this.

The dress was a perfect fit, clinging to you like a second skin. And as you stared yourself down in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the fabric, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this pretty.

A long, long time ago. A night of passion. A night that would ultimately ruin your life.

You shook the past from your thoughts, straightening yourself out. It was imperative that you wore an unbreakable mask to the Hewn City. One that was steeled and sharp and revealed nothing of the person that lay beneath.

A thump fell on your bedroom door. “We’re going to be late.” Cassian barked.

You rolled your eyes, turning away from the mirror. The beads of your dress swished as you moved, and you focused on that, rather than the oaf that was currently trying to break into your room.

Just a few hours, and this would all be over.

“Simmer down, General.” You pulled the door open, stepping out. “I’m ready.”

Cassian stepped back. And stopped.

His hazel eyes slowly traced the length of your body. And despite the fact that he’d griped about being late, he took his sweet time drinking you in.

You waited for the snide remarks. For whatever fault he would surely find with your appearance. But when his eyes landed on your face again, you couldn’t puzzle out his expression.

“Good.” Was all he commented. “Let’s go.”

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“Can you quit your fidgeting?”

Cassian scowled beside you, rolling his shoulders. “The collar on this thing is too tight.”

Your eyes travelled the sculpted length of his body — not for the first time — before you forced them away. He looked…undeniably breathtaking.

His comfort, you knew, was in leathers and body armour. Only on rare occasions like Starfall or Solstice did he swap his usual attire for more casual clothing like button-up shirts and trousers. You couldn’t recall a time you’d actually seen him decked in a tailored suit.

Until now.

The material was of deepest burgundy, outlining — accentuating — every last muscle it possibly could. There was something thrilling about the thought of so many deadly weapons hiding within that dashing attire. Something thrilling about knowing the Lord of Bloodshed walked beside you.

Right now, though, he was the fucking Lord of Complaining and Whining. You rolled your eyes, turning to him.

“What are you doing?” He watched as you pushed up onto the tips of your toes.

“Shutting you up.” You adjusted his collar, ignoring the feel of the backs of your fingers brushing his neck. “Better?”

“Suppose so.” He rolled those shoulders again. He wouldn’t be content until the suit was off him completely.

“Then let’s go.” You currently stood outside the towering gates of the Hewn City, the air always unpleasantly cold in these parts. You took a step forward, your dress swishing along the ground—

A warm, rough hand landed on your arm. Stopped you.

“What?” You glanced at Cassian over your shoulder.

“Rhys is expecting us to represent him.” He said, his hazel eyes strangely fierce. He always got that look when there was a task at hand. “I know we hate each other. And that’s more than fine. But just for tonight, can we pretend that we…don’t?”

You stared back at him pensively. A petty part of you wanted to shrug him off and scoff. To tell him that the unpleasantness with which he’d always approached you had long laid any potential alliance to waste.

But he was right — Rhys was counting on you both. And Rhys had done a lot for you since you’d turned up on his doorstep with barely a coin to your name. For him…for him, you would pretend to enjoy Cassian’s company.

“Whatever.” You shrugged the General’s touch off, turning back around. “Fine.”

It wasn’t going to be easy, though.

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You made sure, in your life, that you never had to spend any extended amount of time with Cassian. You tolerated him when you had to, and avoided him the rest of the time.

But you’d been for nights out in the same group, of course. And you’d forgotten how many females tended to flock to his side and fawn over him.

This ball was a sure reminder of that.

You’d barely stepped into the room and grabbed yourselves a drink before groups of females were glancing over and chatting excitedly, shrill giggles floating over to you. It was a mere five minutes before one of them mustered the nerve to ask him to dance, leaving you standing on your own.

It was during that first dance that you decided — you weren’t just going to be civil with Cassian.

You were going to be so sickeningly over the top that he’d have no chance of skulking off with any of those females and leaving you by yourself while he got his cock sucked. Not a chance. If they thought he’d been claimed by another member of Rhys’s Inner Circle, they’d back off; if a little begrudgingly.

So you watched. Waited for that dance to end. Rhys hadn’t given you any specific orders, besides attending on his behalf and keeping an ear out for any gossip. You drank your wine and enjoyed the music, and the second Cassian had an empty space before him, you dipped in before anybody else could.

It seemed to surprise him. He blinked at you, before straightening himself out. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing with you.” You grabbed his hand, fastening it on your waist.

“Rhys never said we had to dance together.”

“You want us to get along, Cassian?” The music began, tugging you into movement. “Then let’s get along.”

With the other couples beginning to dance around you, it left no other option than to follow suit and avoid causing a scene. Cassian’s jaw ticked, but he grabbed for your other hand and began to pull you around the dance floor with him. He was no seasoned dancer, by any means, but he displayed more skill than you’d expected.

Another thing you loved — dancing. Feeling like your feet were floating. Once you started dancing, you wanted to keep going and going into you fell off the world and tumbled into a blissful beyond. Nothing else mattered besides the music, the moves.

“I didn’t know you could dance.” Cassian commented, echoing the thoughts you’d had about him.

You shrugged, not misstepping once. “I was forced to take lessons as a girl.”

“I didn’t know that, either.”

“Why would you know? It’s not as though we like each other.”

He spun you around. Dipped you in his arms. “And why is that?”

Laughable, that he was the one to ask that question. “You tell me. You never tried.”

“Is that how it went?”

“It is.”

He stared at you, expression unreadable. No other words were exchanged as one dance came to its end, and the music flowed into the next piece. But you didn’t need words to carry out your plan.

The second you caught a glimpse of hopeful, waiting females in your periphery, you pulled Cassian closer to you once more, your bodies flush against each other.

You may have felt a teensy bit ridiculous as you slipped your fingers into the strands of his hair and brushed it out of his face.

“I like your hair like this.” The words were heavy on your tongue. Not untrue, but…painful to say out loud.

Cass stared at you. “…thank you.”

But his thanks was lost in your satisfaction as the awaiting female disappeared from the corner of your eye, skulking off to sulk, no doubt. It was an effort not to smirk. Still, you righted yourself and continued with your plan.

You made certain that yours and Cassian’s bodies met in all the right places. Very close. Very dangerous.

Perfect — because there were still hopeful, simpering females watching. Waiting for you to walk away.

“Dance with me again.” Your breathy tone wasn’t entirely for show — nor was the hand you trailed down his arm for emphasis.

But Cassian frowned at you. “What are you up to?”

“Me?” Your eyes glittered. “Nothing at all.”

He kept his gaze on you, following you into your second dance. You could have sworn you saw the slumping of many shoulders as you spun around the floor, Cassian’s hands like a burning brand on your skin.

You weren’t even really paying attention to him, simply following the steps mindlessly, until he spoke again.

“That isn’t how it went.” He said.

Your brow furrowed as you spun around. “What?”

In one swift move, he was pulling you against him, pressing your fronts together. “You said I never tried to know you. I refute that.”

You shrugged. “You treated me with the same contempt as the bastards I ran away from.”

“You treated me like I was dirt beneath your shoe and I didn’t deserve the time of day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. That simply was not true. He had always been cocky, and arrogant, and difficult. He acted as though mud wouldn’t stick to him, as though he could do what he liked, when he liked.

Suddenly, you didn’t want to be dancing with him anymore. Didn’t want his hands on you, simpering females or no.

He could go to hell.

“I never thought you didn’t deserve the time of day.” You contested tersely. “I—”

“I know.” He interrupted. Spun you around again. “I worked it out eventually.”

“Excuse me?”

“What your problem is.” Another dip.

You didn’t like this conversation — it’s direction. It would be easier to run away, to avoid it.

Easier, but cowardly.

“Pray, tell, General, what do you believe my problem is?” You stared at him.

He leaned down, just as the music faded. Poised his lips at your ear. “Jealousy.” He murmured, the word seeming deafeningly loud. “Sometimes the way you look at me makes me think that perhaps you don’t hate me that much.”

You knew your body stiffened between you. And as he pulled back and smirked, you also knew that he knew he’d won.

Whatever it was that glittered in his eyes was…knowledge. Knowing. An understanding. And that couldn’t mean anything good for you.

“Cassian?”

The two of you looked up upon the intrusion, only realising then that the music had stopped, and the dancing with it. A doe-eyed girl stared at the General with bright, sparkling hope in her eyes.

“I was hoping I might have the next dance.” She said.

You didn’t care anymore. You barely spared either of them a glance as you let go of Cassian and pushed out of his arms.

“He’s all yours.” You said.

And then you went to find some fresh air.

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“I’ll be sure to tell Rhys that you spent the evening skulking around on your own whilst I did all the posturing.”

You glanced at Cassian out of the corner of your eye. You weren’t interested in a verbal sparring match right now. The night air was pleasant on your skin, and you allowed it to cool your face, your neck. Allowed it to wash away the tension permanently coiled within your veins, if only for a few stolen moments.

“Go ahead”, was the only reply you offered.

Eyes pierced into you as you bathed yourself in the moonlight. Even with your own shut, you could sense Cassian watching, waiting. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of anything beyond vague acknowledgement. Not now.

That seemed to fucking torture him.

“What—no smartass response?” He quipped.

“No, Cassian,” you sighed quietly. “No smartass response.”

He paused — seemed genuinely knocked silent for a moment — before he scoffed. “I don’t believe that for a second. Even in silence, I know you’re up to something. That scheming brain of yours—”

“This scheming brain of mine is exhausted.”

As your eyes flew open, you caught the way he faltered, a slight misstep, the barest ruffling of his wings. For all he was the General of War, the Lord of Bloodshed, you’d also observed him to be a profoundly emotional person. And that emotion sometimes won as he fought to hide it.

This emotion…it was ire. Gone was the sharp-edged teasing. He found issue with your words, and his jaw gave a telltale tick.

“What could you possibly be exhausted by?” he scoffed. “You need only turn up looking like a fucking goddess and people respect you. You’re not some lowly, bastard-born brute. You don’t get sneered at simply for breathing—”

“You believe people respect me?”

“Of course they do!”

“You don’t.”

He stumbled — actually stumbled — and it was only that which alerted you to the way he’d been inching towards you. But his steps faltered, and he gaped at you like your revelation was entirely out of pocket. Like you had no reason to feel that.

“You have never respected me.” You held firm on your point, even if your voice was a tad quieter. “I fled a fucking viper’s den and ran to Rhysand’s court, hoping to find a sense of…of belonging. But you…” A soft, rueful chuckle shuddered out of you. “You have made it your mission to ensure that would not be the case.”

Slowly, Cassian’s brow pinched. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, seeming to search for the right words. “That…isn’t how it went…”

“It is,” you shrugged. “You said I treated you like dirt — perhaps, unintentionally, I did. Perhaps it was a defence mechanism, because I never expected to flee absolute hell and come face-to-face with a male that I immediately wanted.”

There they were — the words out in the open. The truth wedged itself between you like a glaring, unmissable sign. You had never hated Cassian. Quite the opposite.

“I thought that I would never want another male in that way again.” You revealed hoarsely. “I thought I would live a life content with just…being me. With friends and nothing more. But that first day I met you, I walked in and I…I knew. I felt it.”

Cassian blinked, slowly shaking his head. “What…”

“And then you were so hostile, and I thought that maybe that was a good thing. That it would discourage me from feeling things. But I must be a fucking glutton for punishment, because no matter how cold you were towards me, my feelings only grew. And I tried…I tried so hard to shift them into hate, but I couldn’t. I’ve never been able to. I simply…can’t.”

The way he stared at you…so hardened, so severe…you couldn’t get a read on the reaction. But then…had you ever really been able to get a read on him?

“You were right…what you said about me being jealous,” you swallowed. “I was. I am—”

“That was…just a joke…I was just being a dick—”

“No,” you shook your head. “You were right. I was jealous in there, and I’m always jealous when people flirt with you. When I see you smile at them and joke with them and I shouldn’t wish it was me but I do. These feelings are constant. And that, Cassian…that is why I am exhausted. It’s exhausting for me to know you.”

Silence.

It should have been a relief, to have finally shifted such heavy feelings from your shoulders. But they were like tangible beings, fogging the air around you, wrapping you and Cassian up in a situation that was complicated and ugly and not at all ideal.

You knew he would do nothing with your feelings…except maybe sneer at them, laugh at them, throw them back in your face. You expected nothing from him. And the longer the silence went on, the more you began to wish that you could steal your confessions back. Shove them deep back into that narrow part of your heart that was still capable, somehow, of feeling such things.

You cleared your throat, tweaking the pretty, delicate gloves that covered your hands and forearms. “We should…head back inside.”

You breezed past him, suddenly desperate for the mindless chaos of the throne room. But you’d only managed a few steps forward before Cassian was gripping onto your arm and yanking you back.

Your dress fanned out as he spun you around, and a breath pushed out of you as he slammed you against the nearest wall, the cold brick biting into the fabric of your dress.

Before you could say anything, he was dipping down, his mouth sliding over yours.

Cassian kissed you deeply, punishingly, his lips moulding to yours perfectly. You gasped against him, and his tongue slid into your mouth to dance with yours, his rough, rugged taste invading you.

You’d thought about this moment a ludicrous amount. You’d imagined what the weight of his lips might be like, how perfectly his tongue might duel with yours. Nothing — no amount of imagining — could prepare you for the reality. The sense of rightness as his hand coasted up to clasp the back of your head, his fingers sinking into your hair. He gave a gentle tug, and you moaned in immediate response.

Air, it seemed, was not important. Not as you kissed him back feverishly, gripping at his shirt in an attempt to pull him as close against you as he could possibly get. The press of his hard body against yours was pleasure in itself. You nipped his lip, desperate for more, more, more, and he groaned in response.

This — this could very well spiral out of control, and you would welcome it. You wanted him to tear your clothes off and take you against this wall. You wanted him to make you feel like he wanted you, like it wasn’t exhausting to know him—

But there was suddenly emptiness and coldness. And it took your mind a moment to catch up and realise that he had pulled away.

Not far. Just enough to stare down at you, his deep hazel eyes flaring and furious. His panting breaths sawed out of him, landing directly on your lips and making you desperate for another taste. You tilted your head up—

He shook his head. Stepped back.

“No,” he murmured, voice gruff. “No. You…you are very bad for me.”

Your entire body turned cold at the words. Words that sliced at you, reminiscent of ones you’d heard before. “What?”

“You’re bad for me,” he repeated. “And I am very bad for you.”

“Cassian—”

“Don’t—don’t even say my name.”

With a swiftness that sent a gust of wind rustling the skirts of your dress, he turned, wings flaring and launching him into the star-speckled sky above you. You gaped at his retreating figure, flying off into the night, leaving you alone not only in that courtyard, but in the fucking Court of Nightmares.

Your mouth had turned dry, your skin cold. You lingered out there long after Cassian had flown off, waiting to see if he would come back. Pathetically hoping he would.

He did not.

And as you conceded, slipping your courtier mask back into place and turning to retreat back inside, his words rang like a deafening klaxon in your head.

You are very bad for me.

[ma1dita]

crazy little thing

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies

(posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)

—

“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!” 

Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.

Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.

“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?” he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long. 

“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.

Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”

The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.

“Right… she’s just a friend.”

Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.

Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother. 

“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”

The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.

Why are feelings so damn complicated? 

It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.

“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).

“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.

“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”

If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.

—

Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual. 

Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.

Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head. 

That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?

Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table…. You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.

You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.

Nothing gets past you at this point.

But that sucks too sometimes, you know?

Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime. 

So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.

The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection. 

Devotion. 

To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away. 

That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not. 

But you two are just friends. 

Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.

Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.

If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.

You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids… and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable… or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.

“Take a break, Trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.

“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.

“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”

“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).

Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready for anything that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.

“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin. 

Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.

“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.

There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.

“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.

“Heh… I think they were just practicing or something…”

He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience. 

Fucking hustlers.

—

The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.

“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.  

“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”

Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin. 

“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.

“Oops.” 

Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.

“You've already got Trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.

The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.

“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”

“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.

“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.

“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”

“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, Trouble?”

Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees.

Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stolls put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.

“You gonna charge him again?”

A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.

“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.

“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.

“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”

—

Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.

“Wanna get out of here?”

You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"

"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.

"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"

Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.

"Don't worry about it."

He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.

"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.

"Why's that?"

"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"

He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.

“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"

You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.

 “Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”

You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.

In short, he’s fucked.

"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.

But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.

I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places... That this heart of mine embraces...

You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.

“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.

“Only if it makes you laugh.”

And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.

I’ll always think of you that way… I’ll find you in the morning sun….

Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.

“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.

“No, you don’t.”

His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.

“I don’t.”

And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon… but I’ll be seeing you…

It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.

Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart. 

“Thank you.”

Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on.

When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.

—

“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.

“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.

“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”

“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.

“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”

“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.

—

“My body ages,

my anger burns into a seam.

I am so annoyed by love

and still it comes.”

-Kate Baer

ask to be added to luke/general taglists!

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[theillustraitor]

My human Dan design! Plus some ghost Dan to practice drawing him.

I'll explain more in depth below the cut for those who are curious, but the basic ideas for why he looks this way is that his human half is a mix of Danny and Dan(with a small sprinkle of Vlad). It was supposed to eventually match his ghost form more, but things had to be cut short on that path so he got kinda stuck with a middle of the road body(he's roughly late teens).

I'm desperate for him to not look exactly like Danny, but I also had this funny idea that he would somehow end up attending Casper High after he is decently redeemed(so his human body had to be younger than his ghost form). Like just imagine the interactions. Dan would *definitely* get revenge on Dash lol

More detailed explanation:

The clone Dan was stuck in was pretty much constantly destabilizing post AGIT. This was due to the imperfect nature of them, Dan's high power, and the physical difference between the two forms. Vlad and Danny kept it from totally falling apart by using the ecto-dejecto. They had to use it *a lot* though.

Vlad tweaked the clone to be able to be shaped by Dan's ghost(to fix the incongruence of the bodies, and to possibly make it so the body could handle Dan's power better). This is what led to the mixing of Dan and Danny; the body was going from Danny to Dan in terms of appearance. It was taking some time though and they were definitely going to run out of the ecto-dejecto, *especially* since Dani also needs it(I like to think that the ecto-dejecto wasn't a permanent fix, so she has to use it on occasion. There's also no way Danny would give a mid-morph sample at this point cause he and Dani are still pretty distrustful of Vlad.)

Since Jack had originally made the ecto-dejecto Vlad could not figure out how tf to replicate it. Jack had also forgotten how he made it because, I mean, it’s Jack(nevermind that he wouldn’t even have a reason to remember how to make something that’d help ghosts/was a failed version of an experiment)

Vlad then developed a way to convert the ectoplasmic nature of the clones to good ol’ human meat(aka permanent stabilization for Dan). Vlad ended up having to do that to Dan before his human form could completely match his ghost form, hence the mix and being physically younger than his ghost form(a note: the bodies not matching remains a problem, but not a crippling/kill him kind of one. Dan is usually in pain after going ghost, especially if he used his powers a lot, but it fades relatively fast. Additionally, he(unrelated to body stuff) cannot be ghostly for too long because the ghost half will destabilize(not goopy, time/reality)).

I also had this idea that the ghost catcher could be used to permanently fuse Dan's ghost to the human body. I doubt he's fused with the clone body in AGIT, and this would continue to be a problem with my idea; Dan is basically just puppeting/overshadowing the bodies. The catcher has a merge side, sooooo

Finally, some design stuff(and a bit about him going to Casper). As mentioned Dan looks younger, which means he is capable of attending Casper High, and he does so because he never actually finished school(and he would be able to stalk/keep an eye on Danny and the others better. By this point he no longer wants to kill them, and is instead paranoid about the possibility of them dying, so yup, stalking). He'd be put in the same grade as Jazz so they could hang out and what not.

Vlad is also glad to have any time away from Dan because they fight a lot lol

But once at Casper due to his Vlad half he plays football(Vlad fusion aside, it’s a sport where he can be violent w/o problem). Dan got a letterman jacket from that, but he still hates the popular kids so he had Sam dye it black.

The hair streak is also from Vlad, but Dan's hair style is just his ghost form's minus the whole fire thing.

His clothing style is a mix of Vlad and Danny’s(except the jacket). Shirt is from Danny, pants from Vlad, then sneakers + dress shoes = boots.

Finally, it’s a bit subtle but he has heterochromia; one eye is Danny's color, the other Vlad’s.

[stevesbestgirl]

Their Girl - Game Day

Soft!Daddy!Stucky X Little!F!Reader

Warnings: age regression, brief descriptions of food, passive alcohol consumption (nothing major), reader gets overstimulated, younger than usual regression, crybaby queen reader, reader’s hand gets swatted, but no real violence

4275 words

A/N: This is part of Season 2 of Their Girl! Season 2 is still in progress and won’t be posted until it’s finished, but there is a new character in this part that hasn’t technically been introduced yet. Rest assured, the remaining pieces will come in time, but it’s Super Bowl Sunday here in the U.S., so enjoy! 

"Papa, I don't wanna watch football," you pouted as Steve pulled a Giants jersey over your head.

He cupped your chin, "Can I tell you a secret?" You gave a solemn nod and he cracked a half smile, brushing his thumb over the line of your jaw, "I don't really care about football either. But it makes Daddy happy and helps him get along with Uncle Tony. Do you think you can help me?"

"Can I take my game with me?"

Steve pressed his mouth into a thin line; he should have expected that. "Yes." Your face split into a grin, but Steve held up a finger, "But we're staying until the end of the game. And if I hear any complaining-"

You shook your head, "I won't."

He tapped your nose, "Good girl. Now let's get going." He hoisted you up on his hip, grabbing your backpack with his other hand.

You leaned out to watch him scoop it up, a curious look on your face. Steve chuckled, "What is it, sweetheart?"

Your cheeks warmed, "Daddy is strong." You never got tired of how easily he carried you around.

He squeezed your leg, "You like it when I carry you around?" You buried your face in his shoulder in lieu of answering. He pressed a kiss into the top of your head, "Good thing I like carrying my baby around too."

You smiled, still feeling shy as Bucky came into view, leaning against the couch. "Look at my girl," he grinned, pushing off and striding toward you. 

As Bucky reached for you, Steve spun you away, clearing his throat and puffing out his chest. Bucky grinned, changing course to cup the back of Steve's neck, "And my guy, of course."

Steve rolled his eyes, "Sure thing, Buck."

Bucky pulled him in for a kiss anyway. "Now c'mere, you," Bucky held his arms out and Steve handed you over. "Are you ready, doll?"

"Did you get my game, Papa?"

"Got it," Steve held it up before he zipped it up inside the backpack.

The three of you headed to the rec room, which Steve had promised would have fun things to do.

You could smell the rec room before Bucky even opened the door; the scent of pizza and chicken wings wafted out. The sound of chatter followed, growing exponentially louder as Bucky opened the door.

Inside, Peter and Wanda were making a racket at the foosball table. Tony, Thor, Loki, Nat and Bruce were seated at the ring of sofas that centered around the enormous television. To your surprise, there was another adult present, seated on the opposite end of Tony's sofa. It was your new friend from the office, Stephen Strange. You offered a shy wave, your comfort around him having dwindled since your last meeting.

"Thought you guys were gonna miss kickoff," Tony noted.

"It took a little bit of convincing to get everybody here," Bucky grimaced, setting you down.

Bruce held out an arm for a hug and you climbed onto the sofa next to him, tucking underneath and into his side, "Hi Bruce."

"Hey kiddo, how's it going?" You shrugged. "That bad, huh?"

"I don't like football."

"Why not?"

"Too much yelling."

He grimaced, "People get excited, huh?" You nodded. "What if you got excited too? Would it be okay then?"

You shrugged again, "Maybe."

"Why not give it a try? You might like it."

You stayed quiet; you didn't know if you wanted to like it.

Loki caught your eye from the sofa across from you, drawing a chuckle from Bruce, "Go on."

You hopped across the aisle to climb up next to Loki, "Do you like football?"

He shrugged, "Would be better with weapons."

You glanced at the TV again; you didn't think weapons were the problem, but you weren't going to argue with Loki. As one team kicked the ball all the way down the field to start the game and the crowd went crazy, you couldn't help but think that your daddies could have done a better job. But they were both watching the screen, even Steve, who had said he wasn't interested. 

"Did you bring your game?" Loki's gaze flicked from the screen to the group of adults, back to you.

You nodded, "In my backpack."

The corner of his mouth lifted, "Do you want to play?"

Glancing at Steve, you nibbled at your lower lip; it might be a bit early to ask. But you slipped off the couch and trotted over to Steve, hands clasped behind your back, "Papa, can I play my game with Loki please?"

He gave a soft chuckle, his gaze flicking to Loki on the other sofa, "It hasn't even been ten minutes, sweetheart."

You glanced over your shoulder at the TV, "But it's screen time, right?" You let your lip jut out a tiny bit, shuffling between Steve's legs. 

A little crease appeared between Steve's brows as Tony snorted a laugh, "She's not bad."

"You two can play, but not the whole time, alright angel?" Steve offered, ignoring Tony. He tipped his chin at the backpack by the sofa, "Go ahead."

You beamed, "Thank you!" Scuttling over, you rifled through the bag, pulling out your game and clamoring back onto the sofa beside Loki.

"Wait, I wanna play!" Wanda's voice piped up from the foosball table, a note of resentment at not being invited in her voice.

"Me too!" Peter echoed, scrambling to follow as Wanda grabbed her own game and climbed up next to you. 

Shuffling over to make room for her, you bumped shoulders with Loki, making him glance sharply away.

"Sorry," you murmured, pulling in to try giving him more space as Peter squeezed in between you and Wanda, crowding the sofa further.

"It's fine."

"Babydoll, do you want to sit with me?" Bucky patted his lap.

Nodding, you disentangled yourself from the others and scurried over to Bucky, who pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arm around you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You looked to Loki, "Are you ready?"

He nodded, though he looked a bit displeased, his mouth pressed into a thin line as Peter and Wanda chattered beside him.

You played, but Loki no longer seemed in the mood for it. He kept glancing at Thor as though he wanted to go home, but Thor, whose face was painted and had a plate piled with food, didn't seem to be going anywhere soon.

When the Giants made a big play, the room exploded with noise, even Bucky, who was usually so soft-spoken. He threw his free hand in the air in a fist,  "YES, WHAT A THROW!"

You tensed, squeezing your eyes closed as though it would muffle the sound. For once, Bucky didn't notice- he was focused on the game. Stifling the threat of a pout, you set your game down and wriggled out of Bucky's grasp, expecting him to protest. But he let you go, his fingers grazing your arm absently. 

Since you'd already gotten up, you had to find something to do. You slunk over to the food table, appraising the snacks, but you weren't really hungry. Glancing over at your daddies, you wanted them to notice you. Usually, they were so attentive that you couldn't hide anything from them, but today you couldn't seem to compete.

"Too loud?"

You'd been so busy watching Steve and Bucky that you hadn't noticed Peter trotting up to you; it looked like game time had been abandoned. Wanda was snuggling in with Natasha and Loki was speaking urgently in Thor's ear.

You hesitated before nodding; Steve had said no complaining. But Peter gave a knowing nod, "Me too." He held out a hand, "C'mon."

You followed him over to the closet. Inside, board games, blankets, and spare snacks filled the shelves. Eyeing a thick comforter at the very top, Peter climbed the shelves with ease, never wavering as he pulled the blanket out with one hand and tossed it down, following with two others before leaping from the top to land on the newly cushioned floor. 

You watched him wide-eyed, breathing a soft, "Wow," as Peter grinned up at you from his dismount.

He began spreading the blankets out in a dense pile on the floor, carefully closing the closet door to muffle the noise as another cheer went up from the sofa area.

Once he was satisfied with his nest, he fixed a serious gaze on you, "I'm gonna go get our stuff. I'll be right back."

He grabbed the door knob, but you touched his hand, "Wait, um," your cheeks flushed with warmth, "Could you get my paci from my backpack?"

Peter smiled and nodded before disappearing, closing the door behind him. You decided it was kind of nice in here; the door muffled the sound nicely and the blankets didn't even smell like a closet. You took another from the shelf, wrapping yourself up as Peter returned, slyly slipping back in and closing the door without a peep.

"Here, pretty girl," he said with earnest enthusiasm as he gave you your things: your game, your paci, and your sippy cup, also from your backpack. He also gave you a cookie from the snack table and a pair of blue headphones.

"I don't like loud noises sometimes either," he said nonchalantly, as though that explained everything.

"Thank you," you murmured, suddenly feeling shy at his attention. Peter was always nice to you, but this was different. He was looking at you the way small children often looked at babies, or children smaller than them; like he was honor-bound to make sure you were cared for.

Part of you wanted to reject his help; you didn't want to be the baby of the group, but you supposed Peter knew what that was like too. So you slid the headphones over your ears, muffling the sounds of the game even further, before you put your paci in and played your game. 

Never being allowed to play your game for this long at home, you lost yourself in it. It wasn't until the closet door opened, Tony on the other side, that you remembered where you were.

"Found them. What are we doing, playing Seven Minutes in Heaven?" He smirked, "I get next round."

Feeling extra small, you just stared up at him, eyelashes fanning your cheeks as you blinked in the bright light.

"It was too loud, Daddy," Peter explained, placing himself resolutely between you and Tony. 

"Pete, you can't-"

"Tony found them, Steve, in the closet," Bucky was calling back over his shoulder. Peering over Tony's shoulder, his expression melted into a smile, "What are you doing in there, babydoll?" Registering the doe-eyed look on your face, he gave you an easier question, "You comfy?"

Nodding, a contented smile peeked out from behind the pacifier. 

Peter didn't budge from his place, "See? She's comfy. We're having fun!" His fists were balled up, even though no grown ups had demanded the closet be vacated.

Steve appeared over Bucky's shoulder, "What is she doing in-" Much like Bucky, Steve instantly softened his tone at the sight of you swaddled up and dewy eyed, "What are you doing in there, angel?" Bucky murmured something in Steve's ear before turning his attention back to you, "It's halftime, princess, do you want to come out for some pizza?" He paused to placate Peter, "You two can come back when the game starts again, if you want."

Peter nodded adamantly, but it was your nod Bucky was waiting for. You were feeling slow, like Bucky's string of words needed to be untangled before you understood what he'd asked you.

With a soft whisper in Peter's ear, Tony guided him back to the party, leaving Steve and Bucky with you. Steve knelt in the doorway, offering a hand, "You hungry, sweetness?"

You blinked at him once before messily untangling the nest of blankets you'd buried yourself in and clamoring over to his hand. But instead of accepting his help standing, you raised both arms, "Up?"

Steve grinned, hoisting you up under the arms and taking you out of the closet to sit on his hip. He removed the headphones Peter had loaned you, setting them back in the closet with your other things.

You babbled softly to yourself, suddenly entranced with the way Steve's blonde hair caught the light, your fingers drawn to the glistening gold. Steve and Bucky talked, though you didn't have enough capacity to truly listen. 

"You don't think something is wrong, do you?"

"She seems happy."

"She doesn't usually get so small, Buck-"

"I know, Stevie," Bucky said soothingly. "We'll talk to her when she lets us." He kissed Steve on the cheek and you on the forehead before he veered toward the snack table, "I'll get her something to eat."

Steve fixed you with a puzzled look, "Is everything okay, sweetheart?" 

He brushed hair away from your face and you leaned into his touch, "Papa." The word was slurred and barely audible, but Steve heard. 

Fingers still buried in the hair behind his ear, you smushed your face into his neck, granting him a sloppy kiss, accented by a muffled, "Mwah." You giggled to yourself as Steve took his seat back on the couch, cradling you carefully in his lap.

You returned your attention to Steve's hair, fingers quickly undoing any attempt he'd made at styling it. He allowed it without complaint; it wasn't a secret that Steve liked having your attention, especially with an audience. 

"Papa pretty," you declared, both hands shrouded in Steve's golden crown, now tousled and messy. Natasha laughed, drawing a derisive look from Wanda. Loki, who had been unsuccessful in convincing Thor to leave, looked miserly and disinterested, tucked into the corner of the sofa with his game, though he wasn't playing. 

"Oh no, I don't think so," Steve suddenly tutted, capturing both of your hands in his, "My baby is the pretty one." And he buried his face in your neck, kissing and nibbling and tickling, your giggles devolving into gasping breaths by the time Bucky returned with food. 

Steve relented, gathering you back into his arms to make room for Bucky, but before he could settle, you were straining against his grasp, trying to get to Bucky, "Dadadadada."

"Hold on," Steve chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you in place. "Wait just a minute, sweet pea-"

"Dadada," you insisted, undeterred by Steve's interference. Reaching insistently for Bucky, you were no match for Steve's strength, eyes welling with frustrated tears.

Once Bucky was settled, he moved the plate safely out of the way, pulling you into his lap from Steve's grasp. 

He cupped your chin, wiping a stray tear away, "No need for that, Daddy's right here, princess." You sniffled, urgency forgotten now that you had Bucky. He leaned in closer, cooing, "We know you're extra little, but try to tell us what you need with your big girl words, okay doll?"

To his surprise, you shook your head, "Uh-uh."

"You don't want to use big girl words?"

But you only babbled back at him, the sounds not quite forming all the way.

Steve caught Bucky's eye, but Bucky didn't push further, keeping a close eye on you as you grabbed a fistful of goldfish crackers from the plate he'd brought, sloppily spreading a trail of them from the end table to your seat on the sofa. 

Steve captured your fist in his hand, trying to work the crackers loose before crumbs ended up scattered all over the rec room, "Here sweetness, we'll feed you instead, hm?"

But you let out a squeal of protest, fist instinctively jerking away and scattering crackers across the floor. 

Before you could process, there was a sting to the top of your fist; Steve had given you a sharp tap, "Hey!"

As the realization set in, you stared at Steve with a wobbly lip, sucking in a breath, but before you could cry, Peter exclaimed, "That's not nice!"

"Pete-" Tony began, trying to shush Peter from the snack table, but Peter ducked his arm and charged over to the sofa, crossing his arms expectantly at Steve.

"Hitting is mean."

Now that the attention was on someone else, you buried your face in Bucky's shoulder with a soft whimper, watching Peter and Steve. 

"Peter, honey," Steve tried to explain, "I didn't hit-"

"Yes you did, I saw," Peter insisted, though he glanced at your face, verifying your watery eyes and sniffles before he challenged Steve for the second time. 

"I would-"

"I saw too," Loki chimed in. Wanda was quiet under Natasha's guidance, but she nodded her agreement.

Steve looked pained, "That wasn't to hurt-"

"Steve just needed to get her attention," Bucky tried to help.

But Peter wasn't having it, "Pretty girl is little, she doesn't know." Catching the note of ferocity in his own tone, Peter dialed it back, stealing a glance back at Tony to make sure he wasn't in trouble yet, "You're strong Uncle Steve, what if you did hurt her hand on accident?"

Steve took a deep, calming breath, "I would never hurt her on purpose. I'll be more careful, okay Pete?"

Peter didn't appear convinced, but he nodded. Steve urged him over closer, speaking low, "You're doing a good job looking out for her, okay buddy? I appreciate it."

Peter nodded again, stealing another glance at you to make sure you were really okay. But before he could return to Tony, who was still at the snack table chatting with Stephen, you held out your hand, offering the last goldfish cracker clutched there.

Politely accepting a cracker, Peter scuttled back to Tony, his courage depleted after standing up to a grown up. 

Steve turned his guilty gaze back to you. You stared at him, tucked into the safety of Bucky's chest. He captured your now empty hand, pressing kisses into the back of it, "I'm sorry if I surprised you, sweetheart. Will you let me feed you, please?"

You nodded slowly, making no move to lift your head from Bucky; he was rubbing your back and it was making you sleepy. 

"Buck, she won't sleep tonight if she naps now," Steve warned, taking the plate from Bucky's free hand and offering you a bite of pizza.

Bucky chuckled at your groan of protest as he removed his hand, propping you up in his lap so you could eat, "C'mon doll, eat something for us?"

You nibbled the pizza half-heartedly, but it was enough for them, both men raining praises on you for being so good. You only ate a little, but Steve and Bucky were more focused on keeping you calm and happy. 

Suddenly remembering the party, you peeked at the others. Wanda was laying with her head in Nat's lap, playing her game solo. Peter was with Tony and Stephen at the snack table still, looking a bit shy. Thor was engrossed in the halftime report on the TV, bringing a large flagon to his lips for a deep drink, oblivious to the thunderstorm of atmosphere surrounding Loki beside him. 

Loki looked miserable. His game was turned off, resting on the arm of the sofa. He had his knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them so his chin rested in the gap in between.

Tugging Bucky's sleeve, you pointed, "Dada?"

Bucky spoke gently in your ear, "What is it, princess?"

You struggled for the words, "He sad."

"He does look a little sad, huh?" he murmured, stealing a glance at Steve to see if he was listening, but he was chatting with Nat and Bruce. "You wanna help?"

You nodded and Bucky dutifully carried you over, patiently waiting for you to speak, "Loki?" It didn't sound like it usually did- the syllables were disjointed, but Loki was already paying attention.

"Yes," he replied plainly.

"I sit?"

"Sure."

Bucky settled you in between Loki and Thor, "Shout if you need me, okay baby?" He kissed your forehead before he returned to Steve, who urgently spoke in his ear, his gaze on you.

Loki didn't strike up a conversation. Words weren't your strong suit at the moment, so you just leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder, "Okay?" Loki gave a short hum that sounded like approval, so you closed your eyes. 

After a minute or two, Loki shifted, lowering his legs. You sat up as he readjusted, and he glanced at you, "You can stay- if you want."

Smiling, you leaned on him again as he grabbed his game. Lighting up further, you pointed, "I watch?"

He gave a tight nod, "Sure."

So you watched him play for a few minutes, disturbed only slightly when Thor finally stood to refill his mug and get more food. When Thor came back, plopping into his seat and shifting the sofa, you were pushed further into Loki, sliding down into his cushion with him.

You let out a soft, surprised squeal, fingers curling around Loki's arm for support. You saw the way Bucky's head snapped to you, instantly seeking you out to make sure you were okay. Steve, who had never stopped watching, narrowed his eyes.

"My apologies, little one, are you alright?" Thor patted your head.

Giggling, you nodded, allowing Bucky to relax as the game started again. As the ball was kicked again, everyone settled back into their seats to watch, although the noise quickly picked back up.

Before long, there was a collective inhale across the room and then all of the adults started shouting.

"Come on!"

"That was pass interference! Are the refs blind?"

Thor thumped his fist on the arm of the sofa, "Foul play!"

Peter caught your eye from his place next to Tony before he stood. Moments later, he was in front of you, the pair of blue headphones and your pacifier brought from the closet. 

Rather than hand them to you, Peter carefully put the headphones on your head, though they weren't plugged in, and held the paci up to your lips.

"Fank you," you slurred around it, grateful to Peter but suddenly shy at the attention.

Peter grinned proudly before climbing back up next to Tony, who ruffled his hair. 

Loki grabbed the end of the headphone cable, plugging it into his game so the sound would cover the noise.

Resting your head back on Loki's shoulder, you could hear the faint murmur of chatter and the occasional exclamation following a big play, but the sound wasn't so overwhelming. 

And despite the dull uptick in the volume after each play, your eyelids grew heavy, your cheek smushed against Loki's shoulder. 

You woke as your seat suddenly shifted again, the collective shout loud enough to pierce the protection of the headphones. 

Jolting up to see Thor jump off the sofa, his fists raised in the air, "YES! YES!" The other adults cheered with him, but the sudden change in atmosphere was a shock. With a single sniffle, you burst into tears, the sound muffled underneath the din. 

Before you could inhale for a wail, a pair of arms hoisted you up, Steve's scent soothing you before you'd even caught a glimpse of blonde hair. 

"I've got you, sweetness," he cooed in your ear, whisking you back to his place next to Bucky. 

You sniffled weakly, lip trembling, but no one other than Loki seemed to have noticed anything was wrong. By the time Bucky finished cheering and Thor sat back down, Steve had you cradled in his lap, Peter's headphones playing soft music in your ears. 

Bucky smiled at you, brushing his thumb idly over your ankle. You blinked at him and Bucky instantly noticed the glitter of tears on your lashes, giving your ankle a soft squeeze and lifting a headphone to talk to you, "You okay, babydoll? You need to go home?"

Sloppily rubbing an eye, you shook your head, "Daddy havin' fun." 

But Bucky shook his head, leaning in closer, "You tell me if you need to go, okay?" He cupped your chin, "My baby is more important, alright?"

Cheeks warming under the intensity of his gaze, you nodded. Looking satisfied, Bucky sat back, though he rested his palm on your ankle, his thumb resuming its path. 

You curled your fingers into Steve's jersey, watching the people run around on the screen for lack of anything else to focus on. With Bucky's thumb tracing over your ankle and Steve's warm palm tracing your back, watching the game wasn't so bad. 

As a man in blue ran down the field, another cheer went up, growing louder as his long strides carried him down into the very end of the field. Thor launched from his seat shouting again, oblivious to the sharp look he got from Steve. But you were ready for it this time, clapping along with everyone else.

The room quickly got quiet as all the players lined up by the goalposts, the tension obvious.

Bucky's fingers slowed on your ankle, squeezing softly as the play started. You struggled to keep track of the ball, but the room exploded in cheers again and Bucky hoisted you off Steve's lap as he jumped up to match Thor's enthusiasm.

Giggling, you clapped again, "Did we win, Daddy?"

Bucky grinned, looking as excited as you'd ever seen him, "We sure did, babydoll."

"Yay!" 

Bucky looked so happy to see you excited about something he liked, blue eyes lit up with little crinkles around the corners of his eyes. Maybe you could like football too.

[ryuichirou]

I love how you draw the tweels and Azul. They look so imposing in your art style! I know you love drawing Ignihyde, Octavinelle and Scarabia boys a lot, but I'm curious if you have drawings of the rest of the twst cast as well. I'd love to see everyone in your art style!

Anon! Thank you so much for your kind words. I’m glad you like how I draw the Octa-boys. I’m not even sure which dorm I draw most often, but it has to be either them or Ignihyde haha. But in all honesty, I really love drawing all the characters; even if we don’t care much about them, they are usually still quite pleasant to draw at least once.

Which is why I can actually compile my drawings of pretty much every character in this reply! It’s honestly surprising lol but also not really. I can’t believe it’s been a year since we started drawing and posting twst…

Alright, here we go!

Heartslabyul – wow, I can’t believe I don’t have any coloured Aces that are relatively new… We like Ace a lot, I should probably draw him. And Cater too, to be honest, this is my only coloured sketch with him. I never expected to enjoy drawing these boys as much as I do, to be honest.

Savanaclaw – Leona is the only character I don’t have a proper sketch that is not a commission with lol I’m sorry. But I actually quite like the comms of Leona that I got to draw, so here is one of them! I also really enjoyed drawing Ruggie, I should do it again… And Jack too…

Octavinelle – aw yis yakuza fishies babyyyyyyyyyyyyy. Come on, you know I love these guys lol Whenever I look at them I feel at home. It’s a shame I don’t draw them wearing fedoras (for some reason I’m still intimidated by fedoras), because I love everything about their dorm uniforms.

Scarabia – I also don’t feel like I draw these two often enough, but their uniform is probably the most difficult one to draw, simply because of all the details and prints and gold and accessories. But it’s so worth it!... I also think that Jamil is the prettiest snake in the world.

Pomefiore – it’s stupid how long it took me to find a Rook that doesn’t look creepy in my drawings lol I really love this side of him. I also really enjoy drawing Vil, but whenever I do, I feel intimidated. I just can’t mess him up..! But if the Vil that I drew ends up looking good, I get so emotional that I cry (not a 100% lie)

Ignihyde – picking an Idia and an Ortho out of hundreds of sketches of Idia and Ortho was more challenging that I thought it would be, so I picked these because I still really like their faces and think they’re cute! I also can’t get enough of them… to this day… Their hair, their teeth, everything.

Diasomnia – I feel like whenever I draw these guys we have an urge to make it into an art, this is why we have a lot of finished rendered artworks with them. Their aesthetic is just… super fitting for all kinds of dark and gothic stuff. I also adore drawing their eyes!!! All of them have such pretty eyes.

The teachers – if you feel the urge to laugh at Crowley for only getting a black and white sketch, I encourage you to also laugh at Vargas for not being here at all… I think he is the only character that I’m missing, huh.

Others – bonus round! I actually also have a sketch of Fellow Honest and Gidel but by the time I remembered them I got tired of making this thing lol, and we haven’t watched the event yet anyway, so they’ll get their chance to shine some other time (you can find it on my ko-fi though). Meleanor is also here, and I honestly I would be happy to draw every twst mom at some point… And other minor characters too…

But not the dwarves; screw them (just kidding I might draw them too at some point).

[thefaiao]

Do you remember what hooked you on the LISA series? It's a decently impactful set of games so I'm curious as to why you've created so many drawings from it

A great question. I don't think I can answer this with absolute precision, but I'll try. I'll begin explaining how exactly I first got into drawing LISA, and we'll work from there to the reason I believe I am still compelled to draw more of it.

I first played and finished LISA at the end of 2016. I was decently active at that point, but hadn't garnered much attention to my drawings. I had made a Hotline Miami post that had gotten decently popular, and a few Yogscast(1)(2)(3) drawings that also did decently well, but overall nothing super noteworthy. Most Yog fans at the time weren't into what I liked mainly, which was Shadow of Israphel.

I was immature at the time, so had a hard time connecting with people in fandoms. Not to mention, I was a Brasilian in a sea of Americans and Europeans. You'd be surprised how hard it was to relate with people in that setting, but I tried here and there.

I felt pretty strongly about the HM post though, since it felt like a great personal achievement. I felt a drawing I had a clear vision for had achieved what I set out to do with it. Seeing how much people liked it, it was pretty magical when you've never had a post "do well".

Anyway, people were hopping out of tumblr and onto twitter, and I did as well. Twitter, despite everything, sort of puts you way closer to other people. Your reply to someone important is very visible and hard to ignore. It was a type of equalizer. There I had gotten to get my drawings actually seen and shared by Austin, the guy who made the LISA games.

Having had my drawings shared and recognized that way had a strong impact on me, and I even got to talk with an artist I really looked up to at the time, Maren, who had also gotten into LISA. She had done art for SBFP and TF2, so it felt surreal to me to be acknowledged by someone like that. Up to that point I really felt like more of a passive observer to everything.

In 2014 I finished high-school, and 2015 I spent the whole year learning how to draw better. I tried so hard that I ended up dissociating, a very scary emotion, that I didn't even know was a thing at the time. It felt like all that time and effort was starting to pay off, and that there was a way forward here.

First I posted sketches, and the passion I had for the game and motivation from the recognition led me to put a lot more effort than usual into my drawings. I ended up making these, which got really popular, it was very validating.

So because of all that I kept drawing. I'll be honest, a lot of the time I just wanted to get even more of the attention of these weird new cool popular friends that were paying attention to me for some reason. I was very lonely at the time. I think I stayed lonely for a long time after too.

But eventually people move on, as is normal with fandoms. I didn't really feel my passion for drawing and LISA die out though. I had started a massive LISA art project at the time, that took me 5 long years, and also was more focused in college, where I did Game Design.

Drawing wise, eventually I branched out to other RPGmaker games, but LISA was very easy to draw. It was sort of a home-base for me. Something I could come back to when I was uncertain.

I think Urasawa put it quite well, with Billy Bat:

Drawing the same characters over and over is extremely rewarding, and a great way to reflect on your progress so far. I suppose it's meditative, but that's not quite the right word. It's very fun and constructive, and people can also keep track of your progress through that. I did the same with OFF characters, a game I had drawn way before all this.

Of course, I had a lot of issues because of how things developed. I related a lot of my self-worth with the validation I received from people online, and I still do, to an extent...

When I started taking the game I'm making, Meanderer, more seriously, and started living alone, posting anything felt awful. I didn't have the energy for bombastic posts, or the time spent developing the way I draw the characters like I did for LISA, that is, with ease and style. It felt very humiliating, but I understand it was a warped view of things.

It was a long and depressing time in my life, but it taught me a few important lessons, and made me sort of re-evaluate how I engage with "online" overall. But I still liked drawing LISA throughout all of this, I almost felt ashamed of it to a certain point.

All of this isn't to say I didn't love the game itself. It wasn't all just context. I really, really love LISA. It drove me to sobbing tears, which I don't think another game has gotten out of me. It's a fantastic game, that really showed what fresh things you could do with the medium. When I played it I'm not sure I fully understood how much I loved games.

I just grew up with the characters of LISA. Maybe not in my adolescence, but definitely in my adulthood, and with my art. These characters help me orient myself, understand my limits. And it's damn fun to get better at drawing them. Even just a character on an empty blank canvas, with only black and white lines. It's the most fun in the whole world.

To finish it off, I have a general philosophy of not republishing drawings. So whenever I want to do a LISA post I have to draw a LISA post. Just keep drawing and drawing. Don't get hung up on one drawing or idolize one thing you did. Keep making things. It doesn't have to make sense. Just keep drawing.

(There was a power outage while writing this and I had to retype this whole damn post by the way. Appreciate it!)

[ganondoodle]

i have seen people talk about how hard it is to draw anything if you have aphantasia (which is good to talk about and true and valid and also intersting to read and this post isnt to devalue that, two things can coexist etc etc)

i personally struggle with the opposite; i have incredible imagination, i'd say it's my best and only "inate talent", (this is not a brag ..) all stories i think about are movies, i can stop them, change camera angle and poses, rotate ever object however i want, place lighting sound and voices, even styles, i switch from ghibli to botw to fortiches style, even into the style of a comic i recently read which wasnt even animated, the only thing that only works half the time is music-

and that all might sound fantastic, but its a mess, it goes too fast and too quickly, things never play out one way, theres interruption, involuntarily sudden changes to other subjects, i feel like struggling to keep an angry horse on one path, it makes me waste HOURS each day just reversing and redoing a scene like im a movie director wizard in my head, theres no ONE finished version, it changes everytime yet i go back over and over again to make it better, i forget most of it within a few hours anyway; even IRL when someone tells me about a memory and they are not sure if i was with them during it once they start to explain trying to make me remember it instead i will imagine it, in the end i wont be sure if i actually remembered or if i just imagined it too real, it scares me how much i forget and cant remember only for my mind to make shit up, makign me doubt my own memory (its weird how it works, i have horrible geographical memory, when i drive somwhere i have known my entire life i need to remember the path to it by imagining driving it, i remember significant things but not the path to them or how they connect or in what order, i have to go through it in my head every single time)

by far the worst part though is that extreme disconnect between whats in my mind and what i can do, just because i can imagine things like that doesnt mean i can draw it (god i WISH), nothing i have ever drawn is how it was in my head, the few things you get to see are the ones i won the fight against myself with to keep going and say 'good enough' at some point the speed is a problem too, the things playing in my head, sometimes even multiple at the same time, play like, again, a movie, whatever im trying to draw is rarely ONE thing, its a whole scene that plays over and over, i want to draw it all but it wont work bc my mind is too fast and i am too slow, it makes me try to skip ahead and get things done as fast as possible, it NEVER works (also too much, theres so many things in my head, i have almost the entirety of the totk rewrite in my head already, novels worth of lore and story for my other projects, its overwhelming how much is in there that i cannot get out and on paper)

its why comics take me so long to make, why detailed paintings are so rare, its the rare times i can force myself to try and tune out my mind and just work on what is in front of me, usually works for a few hours .. if i can manage to reach that sort of focus at all, its why basic sketches of characters are so much easier to do bc i dont have to fight as hard to just draw a character doing nothing- as soon as i want to make it a sketch page of things and scenes the movies are back and are there to haunt me until i cry and give up after hours of trying to keep up with my mind that i will never be able to catch up to (and this is only about drawing .. )

i know skill and speed increase over time, but i wont ever get to where my mind is, its always ahead and trying to skip and jump towards it only makes me stumble and fall flat on my face- maybe its ADHD, maybe its the autism, maybe its the depression, maybe its just me, maybe its just all of that

what im trying to say is, head full, too much thought, too fast, never able to translate it into viewable things in the way and speed as my head works, i explode

[mysticum-draconis]

Mini portrait of a still of Jadzia Dax from "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - S06E26: Tears of the Prophets", drawn in the note space of November 12th in my 2023 diary, which is the day that I first watched this episode.

Yeahhhh, so I'm really not happy with how this one turned out... at all. It went a lot quicker and smoother than I expected (I usually have to fight tooth and nail to get the jawline and eyes/nose/mouth correct), but it was only after colouring her that I realised just how wonky her face looks in my drawing. I keep changing my opinion on how it looks every time I look at it - sometimes I think it doesn't look as bad as I thought it was and sometimes I groan in horror at my creation 😔

I'm currently fighting my way through art block, so I suppose it's not surprising that I'm not happy with this one. I never like to draw these diary illustrations after a year has passed since I watched whatever I'm intending to draw, however (I finished drawing this on the 12th this year), and I just couldn't decide not to draw Jadzia from this episode, because, well, anyone who's seen this episode will understand why 🥲

I'm mostly happy with how the title came out, at least. I'm not too happy with the positioning of the words, but I am pleased with the font and colour of the letters.

HB mechanical pencil and Lyra colouring pencils ✏️

Process photos and reference below cut.

Please don’t use or post on other websites without credit or permission, thanks 🙏

I swear she looked better before I finished colouring her 🙄

Honestly, trying to copy from this still was a nightmare, because Netflix wouldn't let me screenshot it, so I had to take a photo of my computer screen with my phone and it ended up really washed out 😑

[frokenkeke]

Making of Ashes to Ashley

Recently I posted my comic Ashes to Ashley, and got such a tremendously kind and loving response that I felt like sharing a little bit more about where it came from.

The story is about a transgender awakening, where the quiet and somber Ash explodes out of the closet as the loud and colorful Ashley. This was always the plan, however the details changed along the way. Quite quickly I realized that I was writing about myself and my own trans journey. I never played in a band and I don't imagine I'll ever grow bunny ears (sadly), but still Ashley is undoubtedly a reflection of myself. I just allowed life to become a stage and gender performance a rock concert.

Above are the first idea doodles I drew late at night in early April. I quite enjoyed giving Ashley lipstick and prominent eye shadow, since I hadn't ever done a character like that before. The idea was a bit of exaggerated femininity that accidentally becomes raw punk expression. One or two people have pointed out the Um Jammer Lammy similarities, and they are absolutely not coincidental. Initially I imagined Ashley would've been more reluctant about her transformation, which is why she looks a bit more annoyed in some of my sketches, but the story became more bright and funny if it was made immediately clear that this all happens off of her own volition.

Some method and color tests. My girlfriend suggested I instead go a lot more raw with it, which is why I ended up adamantly using an ugly sponge brush built into Photoshop. Sapphic Disaster are some form of punk-shoegaze band, so combining rough pencil linework with crunchy texture coloring felt like a fitting visual representation of them. This also side-stepped the biggest problems I've always had with drawing comics – dealing with inking is a boring waste of time, and working digitally always makes me fixate on perfection. By just using pencil on paper I had to stick with whatever errors couldn't be saved by a regular eraser, in fact I dedicated myself to only using an old worn down Bic mechanical pencil and embraced the idea that the comic would consistently look a bit off and amateurish. Of course I allowed myself the luxury of cleaning up my drawings digitally before coloring, but that can only take you so far. This way of working helped me make fast progress and kept each step engaging, I've never had as much fun drawing a comic as I had with Ashes to Ashley.

Here's a before and after from initial scan to finished panel. I often only tidy up around focal points like faces or hands, and allow the rest to remain as it is, usually parts like the legs or Ashley's ears.

Character references and my initial color picks, they went through small changes as I went along. I liked giving all the band members different sorts of rabbit ears to make them all look distinct from each other.

Here's some ideas for the Sapphic Disaster band logo and the comic's color palette, notice how Ashley is more vibrant than Ash.

While working I filled up numerous papers with doodles trying to workshop panels and layouts. It's too much to show all of them here, so I composed a few collages of my favorites.

It was pivotal for me that Ash would always look painfully cute. The sketch of the table scene with Floyd shows a rare out-of-character confident and laid-back Ash. In the presence of Floyd?! Never!

I was very concerned about the reader recognizing the old Ash when first seeing Ashley. She may be all excited about being a girl, but her nervous cluelessness remains. I ended up going back and redrawing two panels in Ashley's introduction to strengthen this impression.

For those not in the know, shoegaze is a rock subgenre that centers around noisey guitar textures, typically achieved through heavy use of effect pedals at the musicians feet; hence the name. When Ashley plays her guitar she produces a cacophony of strange sounds, the reader will have to imagine what they actually sound like, but I always imagined their opening number "I Wanna Be a Girl" to sound like a couple of amateurs trying to recreate Lush's Blackout.

The page where the band go around looking for Ashley while she's receiving her makeover was shoehorned in at a later stage for pacing purposes. That's why Gabriel is suddenly back to pulling cords after previously claiming they're all set, oops!

One of the core rules to this story is that everyone is always overly supportive of Ashley's transition no matter what. This is what makes the otherwise stern and serious Floyd especially funny, my girlfriend was pivotal in sprucing up his dialogue, adding bits like "have you seen the health care waiting lists?, "I know an endocrinologist who owes me a favor or two" and "give me 35% more danger"

Towards the end I discovered that Ashley and Debbie dancing was apparently the most important panel in the entire comic, judging by how much I tried to perfect it. (For the record, my favorite panel is when Ashley screams into the microphone that she wants to be a girl.) Maybe Ashley and Debbie dancing should've replaced the final full-page panel? Well, we got a lot of cute doodles out of it regardless. Just kiss already!

Initially I imagined Ashley to be standing alone in the "could this be the real me" final panel, but I realized her odd family of friends was equally a part of the real her. She was always right where she needed to be, she just needed to find herself within that place. (I ended up giving Ashley a cigarette because otherwise it looked like she was praying.)

Here are some ideas for the cover illustration, of course in 1:1 format to look like an album cover. Up until last minute I planned for the comic to have You Made Me Realize as its subtitle to distinguish it from eventual follow-ups, which is why the You Made Me Realize EP cover art is paraphrased in the top-middle. I ended up just going with Ashes to Ashley to keep it clean and simple. The title Ashes to Ashley was blurted out immediately by my girlfriend when I first showed her my concepts for the story. It's perfect, she's perfect.

I drew two Ashes and two Ashleys for the cover art and let my fingers smudge all over the latter. While most obviously riffing on the cover for My Bloody Valentine's Loveless, it's equally taking from the Ecstasy of Saint Theresa's Pigment.

And there you have it.

However I never intended this to be the full extent of Ashley's story, just a satisfying and complete end of a chapter. I've already finished writing the next story, Today Forever, and I hope I can get it out to you all soon enough. Your love for Ashley keeps me going.

/Kiki

[cyborgpuppyofficial]

so why do you like Scourge the Hedgehog? What got you interested in him?

Yo my first ask!!!! Thank you so much for asking me a question, and to anybody else, I'll always be happy to respond to questions you may have about me or my oc's. Anyways, this is gonna be kinda long. ^^'

Long Explanation: So I've always liked Scourge design wise, ever since I was pretty little. Maybe about seven was when I saw him for the first time? I used to mistake him for Manic, but eventually learned the difference. When I learnt he was an Evil Counterpart of Sonic, I was hooked on him. I've always been a fan of AU's, and the concept has been something I loved to write for a very long time. Since I was young, I didn't understand his character, and wrote him in a dumb way when I was younger. Usually as a generic bad boy antagonist in Sonic High School AU's and stuff...

Later on during 2019, I was bored and decided to read more of the Archie Comics. That's when I learnt his backstory, and I became HOOKED on his universe, and the other Anti Counterparts. I began doing research, and I ended up starting a Gacha Life Shorts Show called The Misadventures Of Moebius on Tik Tok. It's still currently going, and I genuinely have fun writing it. It's mostly just me expanding on Anti Mobius, since the Archie Comics came to an end, and we never got to see many things from the universe. Many of the early episodes are inaccurate to my thoughts on most of the characters nowadays, and how they act. But to be fair, it's my first ever series, and I was only about 12 when I began making it for the first time. And at that point, I didn't even finish reading Archie like a dummy. I basically wanted to make silly shorts with some goofy characters I liked.

AUGH SO CRINGE AUGHHH. TmT

I appreciate his cool design, and the many writing opportunities he holds. It's easy to see Scourge as all evil, and write him as a cool villain. This is because of his cocky and rebellious demeanor. But it's also just as easy to see him as a misunderstood and not all evil character, which is how I personally see him. I think the idea of him and his father would've been cool to see more of, since obviously Scourge's home life effected the way he turned out growing up. And that if he's with the right people, he could've been just like Sonic! Kind of like an inverse on what he says to Sonic during one of their battles. In other people's AU's he's still a bad guy, but in my own I redeemed him. The nuanced way that people can see his character is a reason why I love him so much!

Plus, I like how he isn't super crazy like other Archie Sonic Villain's. Sometimes he's just kind of a dickbag, and I always enjoy someone who can be threatening, but also silly. I don't love everything about his character of course, he has some things that I try to forget about with his writing. But that's basically the case for every single character I like from anything ever. XD

I love this little shit so much. XD

TLDR:I've liked the green goober for a while now, but only since 2019 have I been more public about my love for this dummy. I love the idea of his universe, I like the many paths writers can take his character, and I just think his personality is really fun.

If you're interested, bellow is a work in progress on my Headcannon/AU Scourge that I use in my TMOM Episodes and videos! I hope to draw him, and the other cannon cast more often. And maybe interacting with my Anti Counterparts I made, or original characters from his universe I've built up for five years now. But I'm starting out by just making him a ref page. My next post will hopefully be him, or my next video. ^w^

I'm making this design for a video! And also just for fun! I can't wait to share the final with ya'll! X3

[serickswrites]

could you add me to the tag list for Eyes Like Fire? also, how to you organize all of your WIPs and tag lists? i can barely keep my few WIPs untangled in my head

- @eyehartart

Hello, friend! I absolutely can add you!

Ok, so the tag list is the easy part because I only tag people who reblog, comment, or reply to a post (the likes are just beyond my brain at this time), and of course if people message or send an ask for me to add them. As for how I organize all my WIP, it's a really shitty system, but I have a notebook that I put all the stories I want to continue in. I put one per page and I put the general plot (like how many parts, what happens in each part) and then when I'm ready to write it, I put it on a word doc (or sometimes they sit in my drafts on tumblr depending on my mood). My notebook is a bit of a monster right now because I have filled it, so I have loose pieces of paper, post its, and notebook paper jammed in it because I refuse to get a new notebook to fill until I finish writing all the pieces in it. I used to have multiple notebooks at a time, but that was really stressful. I highlight a story once it's completely written and I put paperclips on the top of the pages that still need to be written.

I also keep notes on my phone because if the idea strikes and I don't have my notebook with me I have to write it down somewhere. It's really not a good system, but it works for my brain. I continue pieces on request, or if I see that it's getting good traction and I wouldn't mind continuing it. More often than not though, when I post a piece, I already know (and have likely plotted) that it has multiple parts--usually because I envision the ending and have to work backwards.

I hope this answered your questions! In the mean time, please enjoy another 'Eyes Like Fire', which, fwiw, is actually not fully plotted. I am lowkey pantsing this one lol

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: destruction, mayhem, unconsciousness, magic, binding

Villain hadn't moved from where they lay. Hero slowly crept forward. They didn't have any salt, but they couldn't let Villain get up and continue on their rampage. They had to do something.

The demon seemed unconscious, Hero realized as they pulled out their phone. They didn't need salt, but they needed something to bind Villain so they could no longer attack the city.

Hero scrolled until they found a binding spell. They quickly skimmed the spell, reasoning that they would remember it more once they got going.

"I'm not going to let you destroy my home. I'm going to stop you. And send you back to where you came from," Hero muttered as they grabbed the chalk they always kept in their pocket.

The spell was simple, draw a circle of power, draw the binding, say the incantation, and then, boom, demon would be trapped and bound. Hero worked quickly. They couldn't risk the demon waking up. Didn't want to risk. They didn't know why Villain had fainted and they weren't about to question this boon. They just needed to stop the demon.

They stood back to admire their handy work. They had drawn a crude circle around the demon, large enough that they didn't have to get too close--Hero remembered something about their ability to possess different bodies if another body touched their current body. Hero felt bad for whatever person this demon had possessed. Once they bound the demon, they would look up the exorcism spell. One thing at a time.

Hero quickly muttered the spell, they had to do this before the demon woke up. They had to work quickly. Villain groaned as Hero muttered the final word. Villain blinked up at Hero, their eyes glinting with the reflection of fire deep within. Hero had never seen a demon with eyes like fire. "What--" Villain's words suddenly cut off as the magic took its course.

Hero was ready. They had beaten a demon! But as they watched Villain rise and step out of the circle, they realized they had made a mistake. This wasn't a spell that would bind Villain to the circle. This was a spell that bound them to the spell's caster.

"Oh fuck," both Hero and Villain said in unison as they realized what had gone horribly wrong.

Tags: @wankusbonkus@st0rmm@pigeonwhumps @eyehartart

[0theghost0]

Update

Hi hi, everyone. I know it's been a long time. I was actually typing up a message to @prince-infidel because of an ask they sent me, but I realized I should probably just make it a post. So I guess this is an update. Okay, short version: The end of 2022 and the entirety of 2023 was horrible for me. A lot happened, and 97% of it was not good. Now to get into a bit more specifics. While all of this crazy stuff was going on, a friend of mine really needed help with their company. They were just going through a ton, and I jumped on to help them while they were trying to figure that stuff out. Turns out that I was a good fit. So I've completely changed careers currently. Also, with all of this crazy shit going on, I stopped drawing entirely. That's a first for me. No matter what was going on, I always had my drawing as an outlet. It was very new for it to be gone. I actually only recently started drawing again, and when I say recently, I mean last week. I haven't even finished anything and my progress comes in very small doses. Baby steps I guess. Now the stuff you're actually probably interested in. Even though I haven't been drawing, I have been making art. - I've been putting crazy amounts of effort into making costumes. It's really fun and I've level grinded a lot with sewing and fabrics. I made an entire Victorian costume on my own. It was cool. - I weirdly started working on dolls? I have no idea why I started doing that. I hate dolls. - I started making weird... sculptures? I don't know how to describe them. It's basically recycling and turning materials into monstrosities for my own entertainment and to scare random people. - And I've delved more into my hobby of SFX makeup.

I have been being creative, it's just a bunch of stuff that no one cares about. It makes me happy and that's all there is to it really. Which brings me to the long version, because I have no idea how to continue this without going into details. I can only assume all of this answers anyone questions who might be curious. Time to get a bit more specific.

I don't know how to start this, so I guess I'll just say that my interests have completely moved. I think everything above should make that clear, but when I'm referring to interests, I mostly mean the things that inspire me. This is actually typical for me. I love fiction and am a fan of many, many things. I get really involved in a fandom for a while, get bored, then move on to one that is piquing my interest more. Eventually I come back and the cycle starts over. I always keep up with all of my interests simultaneously, it's just that one usually dominates the others. The thing is, comic books have completely lost my interest currently.

There's a lot of factors. I'm not going to repeat stuff that you've probably heard a thousand times from other people about the current state of the comic industry, comic writing, the movies, the video games blah blah blah whine whine whine. I think one of the big things though is that this last year has really changed me. I'm just a really different person now. I'm not that happy-go-lucky nerd I was before. I think my major concern is that I honestly think it would be fucked up if I continued to post here.

People started following me here because of my art and my posts. It would be fucked up to switch that around on them and just show back up as this different person with different art, different interests etc. I've thought about making an update on here a bunch of different times, but I never did because of stuff like that. However, in a way, it's been really nice. It's been nice to just do whatever stupid art project comes into my head, and to do it just for the sake of making something. I think dropping drawing all together (not by choice, mind you) turned out to be good for me. I think I got in tune with a creative side of myself that I'd lost a long time ago. It's been pretty neat.

I've thought about just leaving this tumblr to history. I honestly think that I should. It can be a weird time capsule of this specific fandom in this specific time period. I've thought about just making different social media accounts so that people who want to see any of my new, awful creations could if they wanted to. I don't know though. I'm just all up in the air all the time now lol

I get this isn't an "all questions answered" kinda post. Not that most people needed them, but I know that there are people who just liked my art in general and I knew they must be curious. So I hope I at least answered some stuff and gave some clarity.

[yallthemwitches]

Catch the Wind, Chapter 3: "What's a Rosemary's Baby?

This chapter is the start of edging into a Mature rating. Nothing crazy, but don't want anyone aghast by it so I will stick it all under the "read more".

Once again inspired by @blvnk-art --one of which is a NSFW drawing that is posted on her twitter but not here on tumblr. The other inspired comic I will repost shortly.

Thanks for reading :)

She could feel his body clenching under hers. Her hands moved over his chest and rested just at the start of his neck. There was an incredible heat growing inside her and she felt frantic to increase it. Her hips moving fluidly, grinding her lower half into his as her eyes watched his mouth hang open in a never ending moan. She moved a hand to brush it through his already messed up hair, but once it reached the back, he thrust up his hips and she pulled at his hair in support. At her tug, he growled and grabbed hold of her hips, increasing his speed. With one last thrust, he took hold of her sides and pulled her gingerly and she obliged; sliding off his body to rest on her back and catch her breath. She regarded him: hair a mess, glasses lost somewhere neither of them knew, and bare chest rising and falling. Turning to her with eyes so full of fire and heavy with lust he panted out:

« Time out, Evans. »

She shot upwards in her bed. Around her, Marlene, Mary, and Alice were all still fast asleep and the sun was just starting to peek out from the horizon. Lily grabbed the glass of water beside her bed and took three big gulps. Despite it being just a dream, the heat in her body remained and her mind repeated the look he gave her over and over again. 

Fucking Hell. 

_________________________________________________________________

James waited as Lily entered the Great Hall that morning with baited breath. He couldn’t sleep last night, between Sirus blasting a record and his awaited study session with Lily, his beauty sleep was not meeting its quota.

Lily entered by herself looking more disheveled than she would usually allow. Her hair, which she had frantically brushed, was more frizzed and wavy than normal and her blouse was left uncharacteristically undone farther down than usual. Noticing the latter, she awkwardly tried to button it a bit more while almost running into a first year. 

Catching her glance after she had finished her fidgeting, James made a small smile at her and raised a hand in greeting. Rather than turning her eyes into slits like was custom or even returning the sentiment, her face turned bright red and she snatched a muffin off the table before grabbing at the strap of her bag and rushing out the way she came. 

James lowered his hand, crestfallen and turned to Remus. 

“You haven’t talked to Lily since last night have you?” Remus didn’t look up from his plate and grumbled out, “ You know perfectly well I’ve been with you since you last spoke to her. Why? Are you going to start overthinking things?”

He looked back up at the door that Lily had exited out of.  ”You haven’t done anything to muck it up,” Lupin groaned.” At least, not in the last, what, 10 hours, I hope.”

James continued to stare at the door. Yeah, I hope. 

———

What in Merlin’s name was THAT. 

Lily rushed past a group of Ravenclaw’s who began twittering loudly after watching her pass in such a disheveled state. 

She could hardly get herself out of bed with the horror she was feeling. Since she woke up he repeated like a mantra in her brain: Time out, Evans. She could hardly look at him just now without noticing that her dream did a bloody fantastic job depicting the square of his shoulders….

She groaned despite herself and ripped another piece of muffin with her teeth. There was a relatively empty spot next to the lake and she plopped herself down and laid back to stare at the sky. 

“Looks like the mudblood has had a tough morning.” She hadn’t noticed, but a group of Slytherins were sitting just down the shore, crowding around something that was hidden out of view. With Avery’s comment, Snape’s head shot up and locked on her. 

Not having the heart to entertain them, Lily kept looking up at the sky. She could hear snickering and hushed voices talking quickly. 

“...I bet the little bitch goes home to shag all the muggle boys on her holiday. Better get to them now before the Dark Lord kills them all.” Mulciber let out a cackle. Snape didn’t make a sound but made a weak smile to fein amusement for the sake of the group. 

Avery then calls out, “ Why so glum Ms. Evans? Did one of your muggle boyfriends get killed in the last attack?He made animated crying motions while the rest of the group burst out laughing with the one exception of Snape. 

Lily didn’t turn to look at them. Snape could see from his place that her face was contorting from the indecision to act or let it be. After a beat, he saw the smallest movement from her lips and the bottom of Avery’s robes burst into flames. 

The group jumped back in fear and Avery fell to the ground rolling to get the fire out. From along the way, Lily acted unfazed by the commotion, but a small smile crept onto her face as she closed her eyes. 

“You fucking Mudblood cunt,” Mulciber stepped away from the now smoking but otherwise flame-less Avery. 

“Who, me?” Lily responded with her eyes still closed. She could hear Mulciber’s footsteps bound toward her and when she opened her eyes Mulciber was only a couple paces away with his wand pointed at her. She reached for her own in her back pocket.

“N-no!” Snape stuttered out, and he stumbled his way besides Mulciber. Taking his wand arm, he pulled him around and whispered in his ear. 

“She’s Slughorn's favorite. You want to get sacked off the quidditch team?!”

Mulciber eyed Snape warily for a second before sticking his wand back in his robe and turning to address Lily. 

“Lucky for you little Mudblood, I have better things to do than waste my time on rubbish.” Spitting on the ground he walked back to his group and they started off, pulling a shaken but otherwise alright Avery with them. 

Snape, who had stayed behind, gave Lily one last pleading glance before turning to walk away. Lily jumped up from her seat and bounded towards him.

“I don’t. need. you. to. save. me.” She hissed at him. He didn’t respond and kept walking towards the retreating Slytherins. 

But before she could berate him further, a voice called out a couple yards away. 

“Evans’ is everything ok?” James and his mates were standing just up the hill. Sirius’ already had his wand pulled, and Lupin was watching the Slytherin group leave with a concerned furrow in his brow. 

James quickened his pace to be by her side. At his presence the soft expression on Snape’s face furrowed into anger and he clenched his hands.

“You’re right. You don’t need help, I see.” And moved quickly to join his friends. 

Lily watched him depart, still with her wand in hand and still breathing heavily.

“Evans…? Lily?” James was right behind her clearly unsure of how to proceed. He had taken his wand out but left it at his side. 

“I’m fine.” She choked out, clearly still upset. 

She swallowed a few times and took a deep breath before finally turning to him. 

“I’m fine,’ she repeated, “Just–give me some space ok?”

James searched her face. He glanced over his shoulders to see his friends still at the ready. Lupin nodded his head slightly. Do what she asks.

“Right. Ok, Evans. Hope you are alright.” He turned and used all his will power to trudge back up to his friends. Turning to look at her before they went back into the castle, she was still in the same spot, brushing off her skirt and collecting her things.

In the hall, James picked up his pace and turned east towards where the Slytherins’ had entered from the other side. Still with his wand in his hand, it was now clenched tightly as he walked with purpose. 

“Mate I think you should leave it alone,” Remus’ called from behind him. 

“If you try anything that will only upset her, trust me.” James slowed his gait. Remus was right. He made a loud groan and put his wand into his back pocket. 

“Fine.” 

Sirius came up beside him and clasped a hand on his shoulders. “We’ll get them back another day, Prongs. Knowing my family’s lot, we will have endless opportunities, I’m sure.” 

The boys turned back to walk towards class. Passing by the archways, James strained to see if Lily remained down by the lake, but she had disappeared.

_________________________________________________________________________

It was not an ideal start to the day. Between the dream and the run-in with Snape’s crew, Lily was just about tuckered out by lunch. Deciding one interaction with the Slytherin house was enough for one day, she caught Slughorn in the Great Hall to fabricate some story about feeling too sick to come to potions that afternoon. Giving her his best and promising to make her a little pick-me-up potion, she now felt perfectly in her right to sod off back to Gryffindor tower and to lay in bed. 

But by the time she had made it safe in her dorms, she remembered her little engagement with Potter.

“Ugh Fuck me,” she moaned and smashed a pillow into her face. 

Marlene, who was flipping through a magazine on her bed retorted, “Better not repeat that at your study session tonight unless you want Potter’s head to explode.

Lily gave Marlene a pointed look. Then flipped over to push her face into the mattress. 

“What if I just don’t go?” Lily’s voice garbled out from the mattress.

Marlene scoffed. “What? And stand up James Potter? Mr. Quidditch Captain? Mr. every-girl-wants-to-shag-him? That would be a laugh.”

Lily peeked an eye up from the bed.

“You seem awfully comfortable talking about my study session like it’s something else. I don’t appreciate it.” 

“Oh Lily Lily Lily. You and I both know nothing good happens with Potter and his crew behind closed doors.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Lily stumbled her way up the staircase and towards the third floor. Having tried to convince herself to stay in bed until the last minute, her nerves got the best of her and she forced herself out of the dorms with only 5 minutes before their meeting time. Even if it was just Potter, she still hated being late. Practically bursting through the door of the empty classroom, she was 5 minutes late and not wholly mentally prepared. 

James was sitting at the front end of the classroom at the professor's desk. Leaning back and balancing on just the two back legs of the chair, he looked up from a ruddy piece of parchment and quickly shoved it into his back pocket before jumping up. 

“Evans! You’re uncharacteristically late. I was just wondering if you forgot about me.”

Lily huffed and slammed her bag on a table closest to him.

“Fortunately for you Potter, you are for better or worse unforgettable.”

Despite the comment being conveyed as an insult, James’ heart leapt at the idea that she even took the time to think about him.

Noticing he was looking a little too pleased, a blush started to grow on her face and she pushed her hair behind her ear. His face sombered, and his eyes lowered into his lap. 

“Hey, before we start…are you…ok? I mean about earlier.” He didn’t look up as he said it which gave Lily the privacy for her cheeks to flush. She continued pulling the books out of her bag.

She felt a hand on the side of her neck. She hadn’t noticed he had crossed the small distance between them and was standing at her side. She hadn’t ever felt someone touch her there before. His calloused hand felt warm and soft. 

“You don’t have to say anything, I can see it in your eyes.” She kept looking down at her bag and felt tears starting to form. She brushed one away quickly, hoping he didn’t notice. 

His hand moved slightly to curve under her chin. His thumb softly brushed its way over her jaw.

“Please, look at me…” She listened. His eyes were just as comforting as his hand had felt. Despite looking at him this pointedly in her dream that morning, the lust and fire that had been there was now replaced with a softness and concern for her she had never seen in him before. 

“I can see it. I’m sorry you are hurt.” His thumb brushed its way back down her chin and he dropped his hand. He kept his gaze locked with hers for a second before giving a small smile and making his way back to the professor's desk. 

Lily turned to follow him with her eyes; not sure how they were supposed to proceed. James took his wand out of his back pocket and plunked it on the desk before jumping up and sitting on the tabletop. 

“So, I guess I might as well open with the elephant in the room,” James leaned back. Despite just having a very emotional and intimate moment, he had snapped back into his cocky demeanor. 

“I want us–would like us– to be friends.” His tone made it sound like a business deal. 

“Friends.” Lily echoed. 

“Friends,” James copied. “I figured if I am helping you study, there’s no reason we can’t be friendly.”

Lily’s mind ran through a million scenarios. It had never occurred to her to be friends with Potter. It seemed almost like a revelation to think that all this time, he could be something other than either an annoyance or an attraction. 

Fuck it. “Ok yeah. Let’s be friends.”

James perked up. “Really! Brilliant!” 

He launched himself off the table and picked his wand back up. 

“Alright, Evans, my friend Evans. Let's learn a thing or two about transfiguration…I hear you are rubbish.”

The lesson went amazingly well. Despite the emotional start and the somewhat awkward friendship truce, it gave James a new platform to be open with her. While helping, he joked and jumped about to get her motivated. He would poke fun at her badly done wand movements and she found herself laughing and giving him cheeky comments as payback. He even boisterously read aloud the steps to the spells with such a shakespearean flourish, she picked up the book and thwacked his arm with it playfully. In all, she had to admit, she was having a pretty good time.

“So, what do we do…y’know now that we are friends?” Lily asked playfully during a break in their practice. They had been at it for a better part of an hour and now sat across each other atop the desks. She hadn’t had this much fun learning something in ages, and she was feeling a bit slap happy. 

“Dunno, guess what normal friends do. Talk about our lives…know each other's hobbies..”James teetered off. 

“Ok, I got one. What’s your family like?” He poised. 

Lily giggled. “Well, as you know they are Muggles,” James nodded in confirmation, “….and I have a sister who is a muggle too.”

“Ooooh, and what's she like? What’s her name?” The earnestness of his questioning made Lily laugh out loud. 

“Her name’s Petunia…we used to be really close, ‘till we weren’t.”

“Ah, bugger, it was your red hair wasn’t it. Bet she’s jealous of your red hair.”

Lily snickered, “Well I think it’s more because I’m a witch and she isn’t, but you might be onto something there.” Lily giggled and crossed her arms over her propped up knees. 

“Oh, and now she’s got this awful boyfriend named Vernon. Just the most boring bloke I’ve ever met and has this horrid mustache too. Last time I was home, we had his family over for dinner and we got into a big row about how I thought Rosemary’s Baby was a brilliant film. Honestly, some people have no taste.” She was rambling but James didn’t mind, she seemed so happy to divulge feelings that had clearly been bottled up inside her. 

“What’s a Rosemary’s Baby?” James inquired. 

Lily laughed and sat up. “Oh Merlin, sorry. I forgot–it's a muggle film which came out a few years back about a woman who gets pregnant and her witch neighbors plot to steal her baby.”

“God, I hate it when that happens. I tried to steal a baby the other week and you won’t believe the trouble it was.” James grinned at her. 

She laughed so hard she needed to steady herself on his arm. Her touch did not go unnoticed by him. 

“No, but really, it's actually a brilliant film–and it’s not just me who says it, there's loads of reputable people who think it's wonderful. But Vernon’s family was just disgusted that I could even find the merit in it—something that shows evil, dastardly witches.” 

 “Sounds like my kind of film.” James retorted. From their laughing they both had started leaning towards each other. Their legs, which were propped up on opposite chairs, were almost touching. 

Lily cleared her throat and settled her laughter. “And what about you Mr. Potter? Any awful family ties?”

James put his elbow on his knee and cradled the side of his head in his hands. “Nah, just boring purebloods. I’m an only child so I don’t get the honors of sibling strife. But Sirius comes around most holidays and livens up the atmosphere.”

“That’s awfully nice for your parents to let him around.”

“You have no idea.” James smiled at her and they held each other’s gaze for a moment. 

He was awfully close to her. He was still leaning carelessly on his elbow, and the way his eyes looked up at her made her heart beat faster than she liked. She still felt the buzz of her body from laughing more than she had in quite a long time. She could feel the flush on her face. There was a part of her urging, begging to just close the distance between them. It could take almost nothing…just to lean forward a bit further….

“Ah damn, I’ve got to try to get some sleep!” James jumped up out of his seat and did a dramatic yawn. Lily was caught off guard. Were they not just having a great time and perfectly poised to kiss? 

She immediately felt disgusted with herself. When have you ever wanted to kiss Potter? She literally shook her head as though to dispel the thought. We are friends now. Friends. 

James opened up the door to the corridor and let her pass through. She turned towards the direction of the Gryffindor tower but stopped when she saw that he was not following in the same direction.

“You are not headed back? It’s late.” Lily tried not to sound like she wanted him to accompany her on her walk back. 

“Nah, I like to get a little night air before I turn in. It’s good for your digestion!” He winked at her and she scoffed. 

“Yeah, alright then. Wouldn't want to keep you from causing trouble. Though be warned, I’m still a prefect you know.”

James laughed. “What’s the saying? Keep your enemies closer?”

She giggled and his smile grew wider from the sound. 

“Goodnight Evans.”

“Goodnight Potter.” 

Before he could turn she reached out and put her hand on his arm and squeezed affectionately. Some pink rose on his cheeks.

“Thanks again, friend.”

She turned and walked a couple of paces away. She could feel his eyes watching her leave. The look in his eyes from both the dream and just tonight in reality; the closeness they had just shared. She knew it wasn’t normal but she wanted more of it. 

“James.” She spoke his name for the first time. She turned around to where he had just been, but he had vanished. 

[aannonn]

A lil' fic I wrote on both my wattpad and ao3 account.. But wanted to post it here too, soooOooo let's go11!!

(aaand because i wanted to play around with Tumblr's colorful text once again xD)

Fandom: Animator vs. Animation (Short Films - Becker)

Relationships: Can be considered as both platonic and romantic

Characters: Color Gang & Alan Becker & DJ (mentioned)

Additional Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hugs, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sleepy Cuddles, Cuddle Piles, Platonic Cuddling, Team as Family, Family Fluff, The Color Gang Needs a Hug (Animator vs. Animation), No Dialogue

Free Hugs!

   Finishing the final touch with a small click, Orange stood back, silently admiring his work.

   What our dear friend Orange just did, my friends, is steal Minecraft's wooden sign and drag it into Alan's Adobe Flash, grabbing a pen and quickly scribbling some letters onto the previously clean wood.

   Earlier that day, Orange woke up, as usual, at noon, and quickly left his house, feeling strangely refreshed today.

   This strange renewal was quickly erased when he saw the state of his friends, however.

   His friends, his friends who are so stupid but also so loving that they are always there for him. His friends who are also his family, his main reason for living, the main reason why his days always seem to brighten considerably even more whenever they are close by. His small but wonderful family - along with Alan, their creator, of course.

   His friends- No. His little family has always been so energetic and enthusiastic, full of plans and just so.. lively. Looking so much like a big strong flame and tough and just so beautiful.

He wouldn't know what he would do if that flame faded.

   His light at the end of the tunnel, his sun on rainy days, the platonic, no homo loves of his life... It seemed to have suddenly faded.

   It was so all of sudden, so... disconcerting. Seeing his friends sitting on the couch looking like they're dying of some sorts - when, in fact, they're not - is just... disconcerting, to say the least.

   Dark circles in their eyes - or, well, whatever was in place of their eyes, - slow movements, becoming more easily distracted and looking like, with every minute that passes, they get even more tired than he is when he wakes up way too early to his liking. And that says a lot.

   Orange doesn't know why - none of them gave an exact explanation of the reason The only thing they told him was that it was a tiring day and nothing more than that.

ﾠ Which, was absurd. In Orange's personal opinion, at least. His friends were never tired - at least, not tired like him.

   While he feels sleepy and tired and with each passing day he feels even more disconnected from reality, his friends can spend a whole day awake and, even so, still not be tired.

   Quite the contrary, there is a strong possibility that they will feel even more energetic in the morning, much to Orange's jealousy exasperation.

   So seeing his friends in such a depressing state broke his heart — literally? Metaphorically? Coded heart? Whatever kind of heart StickFigures like him have.

   So, Orange made it his personal goal to, at least, try to cheer up his friends.

   They always managed to brighten up his days, even unintentionally, so it's time for him to return the favor.

   Orange scribbled a few more minecraft drawing decorations into the empty corners of the wood, making sure they were some of his friends' favorites, before mentally patting himself on the back for his hard work.

   He sighed, nervous but hopeful. If that doesn't work... Well, he'll think of something eventually.

   The important thing is that his friends - his family, are happy and comfortable, and nothing else matters to him beyond that.

   Walking slowly across the desktop towards the couch where his friends were still in the same state as before, lying down and sprawled out lazily.

   Which wouldn't be so unusual, almost making Orange think that his friends were happy again, if it weren't for the fact that they still had a, somewhat, depressing air around them.

   Sighing deeply, he walked in front of them, nervous, terribly embarrassed but most of all; Hopeful.

   He's usually not the one who initiates them, but...

   Red simply stares at him lazily, nodding his head in greeting. Blue raises his head a little to look at him, while Yellow and Green remain in the positions they were in, the only indication that they were listening is the small movement of their heads, although they still haven't given him a single look, very busy having a staring contest with the ceiling.

   Orange have a feeling that the ceiling is winning...

   Orange sighed again, his grip on the wooden handle tightening; Although it couldn't be seen, he could still feel himself blushing even without facial expressions.

   He slowly lifted the sign so the text could be read, shaking. - Not out of fear or nervousness, more like out of pure embarrasment because ohgodhesreallydoingitsomeonekillhimrightnowplease

   Orange simply stares at the ground, not making eye contact with any of them. - He can practically feel everyone's eyes on him, which leaves him a little overwhelmed, presumably reading the text over and over again to see if they're not reading it wrong.

   When a few moments pass without either of them making any kind of movement or noise or literally anything else, Orange slowly drops the sign, already feeling the regret and embarrasment growing even more, making him question why he even came up with this idea-

   He quickly broke out of his thoughts when he heard a small movement come from in front of him, making him tear his eyes away from the ground to look up, still slightly embarrassed about what he just did.

   ...Only to find a very excited Red doing little jumps of excitement, an equally excited Green although looking like as much as a smug, a shocked Yellow though looking grateful, and lastly Blue who, although he had no facial expression, seemed to be smiling softly at him, his head shaking in an fondly manner.

   Before Orange could literally do anything, Green slowly freed himself from the tangle of arms and legs on the couch, walking towards Orange in a certain way that would generate suspense, leaving the youngest of the five(5) extremely nervous and even more embarrassed.

   Green simply stood in front of him, staring at him for a long, unnecessary moment before finally leaning in to give Orange a hug, his gentle yet firm grip holding him gently and not looking like he wanted to let go.

   Orange stood stiffly for a few seconds, slightly surprised, before slowly trying to hug his friend back before he noticed Red jumping up from the couch - knocking Yellow and Blue over in the process, though none of them seemed to mind, not when the youngest of the four(4) jumped on the other two, giving them a tight hug that didn't hint like he would let go anytime soon.

   Red's sudden enthusiastic embrace threw him a little off balance, causing him to stumble backwards and, just like that, fall to the ground along with the other two StickFigures, the loud thud and Red's laughter echoing across the desktop as they all turned into one messy pile of hugs on the floor.

   He could distantly hear Yellow laughing too, before both he and Blue stood up to join the colorful pile, Yellow snuggling a little closer while Blue squeezed everyone in a soft, comforting grip, his signature bear hug.

   Well, great. Now Orange can't feel his legs with all of them on top of him!

   Not that he cares, though. Orange felt himself laughing, before, with some effort, he managed to free his arms from the deadly grip and hug his family with the same strength and softness, trying to convey the same comfort and happiness that everyone was providing each other.

   They were all happy and comfortable. Orange's mission was successful. And that was all that mattered.

   At some point, they all fell asleep in the comfy pile, small soft snores coming from it.

   In that same place at some point, Alan eventually sat down back at his seat in front of the computer, only to find his little StickFigures friends all in a little tangle of hugs.

   Alan felt himself get a little worried when he saw that Orange seemed to be being slightly crushed by the others on top of him, although the latter didn't really seem to mind, not when he seemed to happily return the hug and snuggle even closer, their chests? Their bellies? rising and falling so smoothly and slowly that it made the animator quickly realize that they were all asleep.

   Alan smiled softly at the adorable sight, before quickly opening Adobe Flash - which, for some reason, was already open - and drawing a small blanket and some pillows, bringing them to the still sleeping color gang, carefully so as not to wake them up, lifting up their little heads to place the pillows beneath them, covering them with the blanket immediately afterwards.

   He could vaguely see the colorful gang huddling even closer, their presumably snores becoming softer by the second.

   Thinking for a second, he slowly moved the cursor down and, very pretty much carefully, stroked the StickFigures' heads, sighing in relief when he saw that they didn't wake up and, instead, simply leaned into his touch.

   The animator smiled again, before using his other computer so he could work on his programs without having to wake the little ones.

   Before that, however, he belatedly noticed the wooden sign from Minecraft thrown carelessly to the side, the text "FREE HUGS" written in large letters with small animal decorations, - most notably were the drawings of the pigs - redstone, noteblocks and.. NetherWarts? Drawn one in each corner.

   Huh. How convenient.

   Alan shook his head. Anyways, he has a video to finish with DJ. And with absolute certainty he will tell DJ about all of this.

   Ahh.. DJ will love hearing about this.

AAand that's that! xD

also! some inspirations for this oneshot...

Inspired yea, but not entirely. xD

Pretty much the main inspo for this oneshot, although it is, in no way, meant to be related.

Welp! I think that's it..? xD

Cya ~ !

MIDNIGHT AGAINN AAAAAAAAAAAA

lil' edit; I edited it a lil'! I noticed I got some things wrong and forgor others, so I fixed it. ;') It's nothing too big, don't worry! Just some grammatical errors and that I forgor to put the second link to the main inspo for this oneshot.. welp-