#i want to do another rough pass and add the background but that is for another day

[yasur-sketches]

for monthss Ive been wanting to animate lloyds voice to my design and now its real

[notsoangels]

❝ HIGH ON YOU

pairings　jungkook x f!reader

genres　 smut

warnings explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, spitting, fingering, clit play, squirting, drug use (weed), strong language, nsfw.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ© NOTSOANGELS 2024.

something about sharing a joint with jungkook and getting lost in each other’s touch makes the night unforgettable . . .

the room is filled with a hazy glow, the soft light from the lamp casting warm shadows on the walls. jungkook's apartment feels cozy and safe tonight. you sit close to him on the couch, passing a joint back and forth. each time your fingers brush, you both giggle softly. the taste of the smoke lingers on your lips as you take a drag, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. jungkook’s eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans in, his voice a low murmur, “feeling good, baby?”

you exhale, the smoke curling around your face as you smile. “yeah, this is nice,” you say softly, handing the joint back to him. your fingers brush again, sending a small shiver down your spine.

as you both continue to smoke, the effects of the weed begin to take hold. the room blurs around the edges, and every touch feels more intense. you lean closer to jungkook, resting your head on his shoulder. he turns slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “you look so pretty like this,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

a blush rises to your cheeks, your heart beating a little faster. “you always say that,” you tease, your voice filled with affection.

jungkook chuckles, setting the joint aside and wrapping his arm around you. “because it’s true,” he says, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. the soft music playing in the background adds to the intimate atmosphere.

after a while, jungkook shifts, turning to face you fully. “come here,” he murmurs, pulling you onto his lap. you move willingly, straddling him and resting your hands on his shoulders.

your faces are close, breaths mingling as you look into his eyes. jungkook’s hands settle on your hips, his thumbs stroking your skin through your shirt. “i’ve been thinking about this all week,” he admits, his voice low and husky.

you smile, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “me too,” you whisper, then your mouths meet in a slow, deep kiss. it starts gentle, lips moving softly against each other, but quickly grows more intense. jungkook’s tongue slips into your mouth, exploring and tasting. he pulls back slightly, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips before he spits into your mouth, making you moan.

jungkook’s hands roam your body, slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin. “god, you’re so soft,” he groans, his mouth moving to your neck, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin. your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you rock your hips against him.

his touch is everywhere, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever his fingers go. he slides a hand down to your core, slipping beneath your panties to find you already wet. “so wet for me,” he murmurs, slipping a finger inside you, making you gasp. he adds another finger, his thumb circling your clit as he pumps his fingers in and out.

your breaths come in short gasps, your body trembling with pleasure. “baby,” you moan, your hips moving in time with his fingers. “feels so good.”

he kisses you again, swallowing your moans as he speeds up his movements. “you’re doing so good, baby,” he praises, his voice rough with desire. “i want you to come for me.”

the pleasure builds quickly, a tight coil of heat in your belly. you can feel yourself getting closer, your body tensing as you chase your release. “i’m close,” you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders.

jungkook’s fingers move faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. “that’s it, baby. come for me,” he urges, and with a cry, you do. your body shakes with the force of your orgasm, your walls clenching around his fingers as you squirt, wetting his hand and the couch beneath you.

jungkook doesn’t stop, his fingers still moving inside you as he kisses you deeply. “so beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips, his free hand coming up to cup your breast, squeezing gently.

your body is still trembling, your breaths coming in shaky gasps. “jungkook,” you whimper, your hips moving restlessly. “i need you.”

he pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. “i’ve got you, baby,” he promises, quickly undoing his pants and freeing his erection. he guides you up, positioning himself at your entrance before slowly lowering you onto his cock.

the sensation is overwhelming, your already sensitive body reacting intensely to the feeling of him filling you. “so big,” you moan, your head falling back as you take him in.

jungkook groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “you feel so good,” he says, his voice strained. “so tight.”

you move together, a slow, steady rhythm that quickly builds in intensity. every thrust sends waves of pleasure through your body, your moans growing louder with each movement. jungkook’s hands roam your body, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. he kisses and bites at the skin, leaving marks that will remind you of this night for days.

the room is filled with the sounds of your lovemaking—the slap of skin against skin, the wet sounds of your bodies moving together, and your shared moans and gasps. the pleasure builds quickly, a crescendo that leaves you both breathless.

jungkook’s movements become more urgent, his grip on you tightening as he nears his release. “come with me,” he urges, his voice rough with need. “i want to feel you.”

you’re right there with him, your body tensing as you reach your peak. “jungkook,” you cry out, your body convulsing as you come, your walls clenching around him.

with a final thrust, jungkook follows you over the edge, his body shuddering as he finds his release. you cling to each other, riding out the waves of pleasure until you’re both spent.

you collapse together, breathing heavily, your bodies tangled in a sweaty, satisfied heap. jungkook presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his hands soothing over your skin.

you smile, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the weed. “i love you,” you whisper, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

“i love you too,” he replies, pulling you close. you lay there, the music still softly playing in the background.

[writingonleaves]

went on a little drive, which is where i get my best ideas, and wanted to add onto this little headcannon about the devils having a sibling trip

i'm taking inspiration from some of the incredible hockey content i see from specific teams (ex. umich hockey, the bruins, the sabres) and incorporating that into my au hoping that one day the devils get there (i'm not a social girl but i have so many ideas @ devs social content production department you should hire me)

ANYWAYS so on the sibling trip, let's say it's a trip that requires somewhat of a long plane ride. so lets say the players and their siblings / mentors are going to dallas

the social person has an idea of doing a little boyfriend v brother bit and clementine is 100% down. anything to do to pass the time.

there's a debate on whether to do luke or jack. ultimately i think jack does it, with luke laughing in the background the whole time and claiming that he could've done better (he so could've)

so picture them on the plane, all with mics attached to them, nico and jack both having a whiteboard and a dream

questions range from the basics like birthday, favorite food, colleges she attended to obscure things like names of her three housemates at UCLA, name of her first car, and the name of the cafe she likes to indulge in during a rough shift

(yes clementine absolutely thought of these questions and she's well aware some of them are not fair. she's not here to play nice!)

i wish i could word it better but the editing is god tier. i'm talking zoom ins to nico and jack's gulps, quips heard from people off camera (luke, nina, other staff) because most everyone on the plane is gathered around to watch this

like can you just picture jack not knowing some of the answers and trying to be casual about it but it actually kills him inside and nico just leaning back with his dimples and laughing the whole time. incredible dynamics at play.

it ends up becoming one of their most viewed pieces of content

i just feel like this is a fun way to showcase the siblings trip with a subtle nod to clem x nico in a way that's respectful and makes sense. if only the devils social team would step it up (hire me pls. and i could go on a whole rant about nhl / team marketing via social content but that's an essay for another time)

[plvtosun]

blanca has a playlist now!

it’s a little over an hour long, + i made one on youtube for anyone who wants to listen but doesn’t use spotify. there’s 18 songs, about half of them are in spanish. i couldn’t find any spanish/english lyric videos so sorry about that </3 but i did put in some mvs that i thought were cool on the youtube playlist. (except for the pretty woman one lmao the message at the end is good but it’s uhhh… kinda weird lol so feel free to ignore it and just listen to the song)

background for the songs below the cut if anyone’s curious!

songs 2-11 are basically just blanca and her experiences that made her who she is + her personality.

songs with [*] are the ones i recommend watching the music videos for cause i think they’re pretty cool :b

i’m from LA - self explanatory right?? lol

son mis locuras - blanca’s inner monologue while she’s still living with her family, i guess? nothing super deep. i like the line “me dicen ‘nena, te pareces a tu abuela’” (“they tell me ‘baby, you look like your grandma’”) because blanca’s named after her maternal grandma, so that’s a fun coincidence with her story and the song that i didn’t even think of when i added it to her playlist at first tbh

maría la curandera - it’s like her favorite tía in mexico teaching her about doing limpias (spiritual cleansings) for herself when she visited as a kid. cozy comforting vibe overall

cumbia feminista, mujer moderna, whore - these are grouped together because they deal with purity culture, which is something blanca had to deal with her whole life and it felt like it got worse the older she got. people trying to dictate what she wore, how she expressed herself, being catcalled and shamed, all that fun stuff :))) whore specifically relates to her dynamic with someone from her past who tried to put his idealized image onto her and got mad when it didn’t line up with who she actually is. she blares that song when she’s reminiscing and she looooves shouting “you love me for everything you hate me for” at the top of her lungs.

crumbling down → recuérdame → la llorona* - things are rough, but she’s alright for the most part now that she’s living on her own finally. → death of the tía she was close to, she struggles with it a lot because she felt like no one else really understood and accepted her fully. → remembering the time she was visiting said tía and how she and her cousin saw la llorona! the song comforts her because it’s a reminder and again, she thought la llorona was kind of pretty. (she wonders if la llorona scared the shit out of her cousin on purpose, to make him drop her instead of tossing her into the river to fuck with her…)

la vida es un sueño* - she lives life how the hell she wants! she’s over people trying to take advantage of her and tell her how to act. she’s angry and tired and done. side note, my favorite lines are “corazón sangrado, me has abandonado / necesito una limpia, que ando embrujado” (“bleeding heart, you abandoned me / i need a cleansing, because i’m cursed”)

songs 12-18 are the mushy toca (toki/blanca, coincidentally this means “touch” in spanish!) songs LOLLL i think the lyrics are pretty obvious so i won’t go into detail too much. i’ll add in (b) and (t) to show whose pov the songs are from

can’t get you out of my head (b) - “…shit i have a crush.”

oh, pretty woman (t) - HAHA he has one too you shy tsundere loser deal with it he likes you >:) pay attention to him dammit!

afraid (t) - ohhh she’s scared. but why? hm. alright

your sweet six six six (t) - the LET ME IN eric andre meme. he’ll be nice :( give him a chance don’t pass this up c’mon

sour candy (b) - give her a second to thaw out, she’ll get there

mary on a cross (t) - another nudge. he’s not scared off at all.

love song (b) - :)

[mandalorianbrainweasel]

Commission Information

Can also be found here if tumblr doesn't glitch it for the fifth time.

As said, Tumblr is glitching like hell. But! I need to get money for surgery and I feel weird about asking for money with nothing in return so...Commissions!

I do standard commissions, art nouveau style commissions, and a few different niche commissions like making doll-style versions of characters, doing outfit designs, and finishing old sketches or redoing old art you may like.

I also love bringing OCs to life!

Will Not Draw:

Gratuitous Gore, Furries (no shade, I’m just bad at them. Normal animals? Fine. Anthro animals? I’m so bad at it).

Preferred Fandoms (though I will also draw OCs and other fandoms)

Star Wars (Mandalorian Armour will get a $50 upcharge on painting, Clone Armour will get a $25 upcharge on painting)

Time Princess (Mobile Game)

Sailor Moon

Apothecary Diaries

Pokemon (pokemon count as animals in the extras section)

Vtubers (I just like drawing them)

Vocaloid

Princess Tutu

DC

Marvel (Ironman will get you a $50 upcharge of painting)

Information (USD) under the cut.

Standard Commissions

Headshot (single)

Sketch Only - $50

Clean Lines - $75

Painting - $150

Headshot (kissing)

Sketch Only - $75

Clean Lines - $100

Painting - $200

Waist Up (single)

Sketch - $75

Clean Lines - $125

Painting - $225

Waist Up (extra figures)

Sketch - Plus $50 per figure

Clean Lines - Plus $75 per figure

Painting - Plus $175 per figure

Full Body (single)

Sketch - $100-$150

Clean Lines - $225-$275

Painting - $350-$400

Full Body (extra figures)

Sketch - Plus $75 per figure

Clean Lines - Plus $150 per figure

Painting - Plus $200 per figure

Finish It! Commissions

These are commissions that are based on past sketches I never finished. If you’ve seen a sketch from me here or on twitter you’d like me to redo as a full art piece, please let me know. The rates for these are as follows:

Redo Sketch - $50 (optional)

Finishing (lining and rendering) - $150 for a single figure, another $50-$100 per extra figure based on complexity

Art Nouveau Commissions

These are commissions that are only finished, rendered pieces, but there are certain breakdowns and extras that you can add.

Initial Sketch - $50-$75 per figure

Background Sketch - $25

Art Nouveau Lining and Rendering

$200 for one character and the background, adding another figure would add another $100-$150 per figure

Final Touches

$25, this includes things like changing lineart colours and colour balancing, along with adding some texture to the piece

Extra Motifs

$10 per motif, things like adding a kind of flower into the composition, adding a plant, adding a weapon, basing the piece off a tarot card, or adding some other extra (like the wine in the Cody and Obi-Wan piece)

Extras for All Commissions

Holo Effects - $10

Animals - $75 for sketch to render, only as an extra. If an animal is the only figure in a piece or a major figure, it runs you the same as any other figure.

Dollified Commissions

Sketch (per character) - $25

Lined and Rendered (per character) - $50

Outfit Design Commissions

Sketch (per character) - $100

Rough Colours (initial colourway) - $150

Rough Colours (per additional colourway) - $50

Commission Perks

All commissions receive a web-quality PNG of their commission

If your commission total passes $200, you can pick one of the following to receive:

A two-hour private livestream (you can invite whoever you want) to watch me work on the sketch for your piece, make comments, ask questions, and make additional requests

A timelapse video of the creation of your piece

None of this applies to NSFW including artistic nudity. If you’re interested in a NSFW commission, please reach out in DMs.

[muerteporfavor]

Vacation Update:

I wanted to talk about where I went on vacation (now that I am safely home and am not doxxing myself by doing so)

I went to the Silver Scream Convention created by the band Ice Nine Kills. It was truly magical. I did not have the privilege of going to the first year's convention last year however I have a lot of thoughts on this year's convention from an analysis point of view I guess?

Let me start by talking about a panel that will put everything I am about to say about the convention in context. The Spooktacular panel. There is a documentary style movie coming out (I believe the Los Angeles premiere is happening with all the cast on the 28th of September and then there is a Texas premiere with some of the cast at some point but I don't know when or where in Texas. They are also hoping for a theatrical release but I don't know when or if that will actually happen as it is only in talks.)

Spooktacular is a documentary film for the first ever haunted house to ever grace the country. It's title was Spooky World and was first unveiled in 1991. (Random tidbit: I got a free signed movie poster by the ex-owner/mastermind behind Spooky World plus the director and some guy who had a big hand in the filming process.) Prior to this Halloween themepark (think Disney World but for horror is a common comparison) there were only haunted hayrides. There were also celebrities of Horror/Halloween (including Elvira or Alice Copper, the latter who called spooky world to be there) who made appearances. To wrap this background up let's just say the owner had a 130,000$ loan (I swear he said 150,000$ at the panel but a source online who interviewed him claims 110,000 plus $20,000 in interest so its ballpark somewhere in there.) he had to pay back in like 5 years. And he paid it back in either (I can't remember which) a week and a half or two and a half weeks. Both of which is insanely impressive. (If you want to learn more about the former spooky world search up spooky world Berlin MA on youtube, the owner sold the attraction in 2005 and now it is in New Hampshire.)

Now. With all that being said, I think the Silver Scream Con is going to be the new Spooky World.

The Con just did their second year and it was confirmed by Ryan J. Downey, the host of all panels and Q&As, that the attendance number doubled last year's count. The first panel of the Con (Assault and Batteries with Alex Vincent and Christine Elise) had to add three rows of chairs more before the panel began because there were more guests than they anticipated. The line to see Dead Meat and get a picture/autograph was so long that it spanned the small vendor room from front to back at times. For the other booths in the vendor room it was a lot easier to wait in line so Dead Meat would be an outlier. I also heard from another guest that for the signings in the additional area (labelled Living Room in the schematic) that you'd wait about two hours to meet either Ulrich, Charnas (and company depending on the day), Todd, and Jericho. Personally, I only passed through the room but it was definitely very crowded and busy. (I also heard from another guest that the panel room for Dead Meat's panel was so crowded and hot that they ended up leaving because it caused them to struggle with breathing. This is not a sleight or even a universal experience it is a comment I mention to illustrate how massive this con is. I don't want anyone to think this Con was a Tanacon blunder or something. It wasn't they had plenty of space to do what they needed to do but it was clear that they might soon out grow the venue if their growth continues on the same trajectory.)

Pictured below is the schematic Silver Scream Con posted to their instagram so you can get a rough idea of the space (although I would not say it is necessarily true to size at all, it is a good idea of how things were set up)

Not only that, it taps into a previously untapped market just like Spooky World. The world of horror and alternative music (metal, punk, etc) has always been intrinsically intertwined. Most alternative people love horror whether its for the way the genre speaks to the fears of the time or the way the genre is constantly evolving. Previously, if you wanted to gather as an alternative music lover you'd go to a festival or a concert or any number of underground shows. Meanwhile if you are a horror lover you have, in recent history, always had conventions to go to. Spencer Charnas/ Ice Nine Kills artfully bring both worlds together in a clash that really tears the line between fantasy and reality (in regards to their two recent albums: Silver Scream and then Silver Scream 2: Welcome to Horrorwood where Charnas is the lead protagonist of the album concepts as a killer out for blood and does it through the killers we all know and love.) As far as I know this has never been done before, and if it has, it is nothing in comparison to what Ice Nine Kills and team is doing now. Right now they are making history in a big way.

For a moment I would like to pivot to their concert. At Silver Scream Con they always have a concert where they bring special guests to perform with them plus a couple of opener bands. (This year, I can't speak for last year, Dead Meat James played the Sax during IT is The End and Leah Voysey (actress, from Terrifer, Clown Cafe Host) performed during Grave Mistake. The lines for the concert spanned blocks even when it was divvied up in threes (General Admit being the longest multiple blocks, then you had Psychos Only Access [special subscription for Ice Nine Kills] and their RIP vip line.) The line for general admit was so long I showed up 45 minutes early and missed the first opening act in its entirety while I waited to be let into the City Hall Lynn Auditorium building. (Which actually was disappointing because it was Funeral Portrait.) The line was so massive a guy coming through in a taxi rolled down his window and asked the line who we were seeing because he was so impressed by the line and immediately decided to look them up.

Anyway,

All this to say, I can't wait to see how Ice Nine Kills and staff deal with how explosive they are becoming and I will not be surprised if looking into a new venue for the Convention is in their future.

Cheers for now!

Muerte Por Favor.

[saucerfulofsins]

phd student here (just advanced to candidacy): i honestly feel like academia is meant to break us. my first advisor bullied me into almost committing suicide, and it's been ROUGH... but that said? i think you finishing your degree in spite of everything matters so fucking much. both on a grand scale (academia needs more people from "untraditional" educational and life experiences) and a minor scale (proving something to yourself and to the people around you who've played a part in breaking you). i believe in you because i believe in me. fighting is hard, but sometimes things turn a corner when you least expect it—networking at a conference i didn't even want to go to accidentally solved a big gap in my advising situation.

sending all the best vibes in your direction. you are smart, capable, and will end up in the right place eventually. academia destroys souls, and you're not alone. ❤️

Hey ❤️❤️

I like seeing it from that side. Maybe not doing it AS well as I could have if I'd have the circumstances other ppl write theirs in (I started mine first with a rejection of my initial topic,then switching to a topic I had taken NO courses or associated courses on, and all of this while I had the very real concerns I might have cervical cancer as a trans man... the day I found out I didn't was the day I found out my supervisor would be leaving, leaving me with about 10 weeks to write a MA thesis which obvs didn't happen and then shit REALLY hit the fan). I wouldn't consider anyone else's grade under my circumstances a true reflection of what they're worth, either. I should add that my MA program is a research master, preparing you for academia and after which you'd move on to a 3-4 yr PhD program in my country. If your grades and project are good enough, of course. Mine? Aren't.

I applied to some PhD programs last yr but only major/big name unis and I think that might have been a mistake too. I had an interview and everyone there sounded so smart, had so much background, and I'm from the countryside with parents that barely finished their high schools (with levels that wouldn't get anyone into uni).

But yeah. You're right. In the end this is one grade, and it's a passing grade, and I... I mean I won't get into a big name uni with this rn and I don't think I wanna pursue a PhD rn anyway just because of all the pain but also the backlog I have compared to everyone else there. I just really wanna figure out a way to stay involved in academia without ending up in this locked down situation where, as you say, there's an attempt to break down everyone that doesn't fit the way the established order thinks we should.

It's just super difficult to keep believing in yourself when you're turned down and turned away at every junction in your life. After so many years (I'm 31 now) it's just. There's a point where it feels too much. At the same time I took an entrance exam to uni at 21 which I failed, and which I took to be a sign I shouldn't pursue uni at all. Clearly I was wrong there. I just.

I just wish there were more ways of learning than just the one specific kind universities (and high schools for that matter) dictate rn.

I also wish you the best of luck in your own degree, now and in the future! I know a PhD is another step up from a MA and I cannot imagine how rough it must've been for you especially with your first advisor. You don't deserve that (and lbr no one does). If you ever want a listening ear abt what you're working on, even if it's something I know nothing about, feel free to contact me!

[vanessagillings]

Some of you may have seen the color rough of this in my instagram stories, but I finally got around to scanning the paintings I created over my winter break.  Here’s the first one -- a little bit of Hilda fan art.  I love that show so much!  The second I saw this scene, I knew I had to paint it.

This painting also served as technique experiment.  If you’d like to read the nitty gritty technical details, click below~

Okay, so.

I paint in winsor newton gouache watered down like watercolor.  I do this because gouache doesn’t bleed like watercolor does, meaning it’s easier to get crisp, solid shapes.  Ever had trouble getting watercolor to not look blotchy?  I recommend trying watered-down gouache!  The major draw back of gouache is that there are fewer colors available (especially that are lightfast, non-toxic, and permanent) and sometimes you want colors to blend and the paint just isn’t going to do that for you.  

But painting thinly in gouache has one other large draw back: unlike opaque gouache, I can’t paint light colors on top of dark.  With watercolor-like paints, you must move from light to dark and can’t make corrections.  I’ve developed a few tricks over the years to get around this (super clean wet paper towels work like watercolor erasers for one!), but mostly I’ve just gotten really good at painting it right the first time...as time consuming as that is.  If you’re curious to see some process shots, I upload them for most of my pieces to my instagram stories, and some are highlighted.  But anyway, most of my paintings take around 4-6 hours just to paint, not including all the lead up time of sketching, color-roughing, and transferring. The more complex ones, 12 hours or more.  

Lately, however, I’ve learned a cool new technique!  

In the past, I’ve tried painting light colors more opaquely in winsor newton gouache on top of my thinner winsor newton dark washes without much success (it just soaks in) -- but it turns out you CAN paint holbein acryla gouache on top of winsor newton without it simply disappearing!  The little hexagon-ish shapes up there were painted in holbein after the rest of the piece was completed (the white circles are white gel pen).  For best results, I recommend not mixing the holbein acryla gouache with any other gouaches, including winsor newton.  I used completely different palettes and brushes for them (it’s a sticky paint and hard to clean!).  Instead of using these paints like more colors to add into my usual ones, I instead use them like correction fluid and in moderation.  Just like with winsor newton, I recommend checking the lightfastness and permanency of each color, but more of holbein’s range is lightfast (likely because it’s plastic).

With this technique, I’ve been able to not only paint small details in lighter colors after a series of dark washes but have been able to mix matching colors in holbein to make corrections to my winsor newton, too.  The best method for making the two paints blend into each other (so it doesn’t look like thick paint is sitting on top of the thinner paint underneath) is to not paint the holbein TOO thickly; instead, paint just opaquely enough to cover what’s below.

Another example of this technique is my new year’s piece, which I actually painted after this one -- the little confettis were painted with holbein, as well as the ribbons.  It meant I didn’t have to be TOO perfect with my background washes because I could go back in and correct in a way that wasn’t noticeable...and it meant I didn’t have to try to paint AROUND all those little confettis, I mean talk about a nightmare.  And let me tell you, not having to paint around every tiny detail saves a ton of time!  I time myself for every painting in hour-long pomodoros, and paintings that would have once taken 12 hours now take around 4.  That new year’s piece would have once taken me two work days, but took only one.  GAME CHANGER.

So I just had to share, in case anyone wanted to try the technique.  I know lots of artists paint opaque gouache on top of watercolor washes, and this is kind of a similar idea to that...but I wanted to avoid the two paints looking different, and wanted it to look like I had painted the entire piece with one technique.  Painting in washes is still a perfectionist’s technique and you still have to get almost everything right on the first pass, but so long as you don’t overdo the areas painted in holbein acryla gouache on top, this method will let you paint tiny corrections and tiny details!

Hope someone found this useful! 🦊💛

[saffyspirals]

untitled; bakugou katsuki x reader

about: bakugou wants to cuddle and talk about his day, but you’re too focused on your newly purchased book to give him the time of day.

genre: fluff + slight angst (not really, just that you ignore him a bit)

word count: 650+

a/n: inspiration hits at the most random times! this came to me while i was doing the dishes :3

the second the clock strikes half eight, bakugou snatches the novel you’re holding. all your attention had been focused on it ever since you’d come home from work a few hours ago. you’d picked it up from a local bookshop on your way home after a fellow bookworm commented on its brilliance. it wasn’t like bakugou hated the fact that you were such an avid reader, so much so that anything and everything around you merely faded into background noise; it was the fact that when you became drawn to a book, bakugou too became part of said background noise.

unlike you, who had seemed to have a good day at work (it was one of the few things you’d spoken to him about before starting on your book), bakugou had had a pretty rough day. saving civilians on a daily basis was no easy task, and on top of that work, interviews, signing autographs and making deals with other agencies were things that also had to be done. you’d gotten home a little later than bakugou had, and he’d been so ready serve dinner, then cuddle on the couch and just rant all his problems away. you hadn’t even touched dinner; it was still waiting inside the microwave, getting cold once again. rather than blowing up at you about not giving him enough attention, bakugou figured he’d put all of his energy into scaring time into ticking a little faster, so it would be time for bed and you’d finally drop the book and cuddle with him in bed. of course, his silent cursing and menacing glares had done nothing but slow time down; the more he wished for time to pass faster, the slower it felt like it was going.

“time for bed.” he says, raising the book up high just as you make an attempt to get it back. you take a peek at the clock, then look at bakugou who’s already shut your book. you’re ready to scold him for losing your page when he adds, “page 214.”

“i don’t have to go to bed now, i’m not even tired.” your words still have the snappy tone you would have used to scold him for closing your book. bakugou pays no mind to it. instead, he walks away from you, out of the living room, leaving you with little choice but to follow after him (and your novel). you get to your shared bedroom before making another attempt at retrieving your book. this time, bakugou lets you take it, flopping down onto his side of the bed when you do. although he tries to hide it, it’s pretty hard to miss the disappointment on his face when you choose to prioritise reading over him so, feeling bad, you put the book to rest on your bedside table and climb into bed beside him.

“i’m sorry.” he’s turned over so his back is facing you. it’s a silent message that words aren’t going to let you off the hook. you slowly shift closer to him, leaving your side of the bed. in a careful fashion, you wrap your arms around bakugou’s torso, half anticipating him to smack you away. he doesn’t, which has you inching even closer, until your front is completely pressed against him. bakugou can’t stop the content sigh from sounding once you do this. a hand brushes over the top of yours, and you smile. it’s a silent message that all has been forgiven. you press a gentle kiss to the back of his neck as an equally silent thank you. “how was your day?” you finally ask.

“was shit.” the honest answer has you scrunching your face up guiltily. bakugou knows what you’re doing behind him, and shakes his head for you to stop. “i’m fuckin’ tired though. i’ll talk shit about my coworkers tomorrow.” there’s no stopping the gentle chuckle leaving your lips. bakugou closes his eyes, finally, a small smile curling his lip upward. he wishes you a goodnight, which you return with a yawn.

“not even tired my ass.” is the last thing you hear before drifting off.

[here’s my masterlist] !

[trothplighted]

How would you imagine a Grindewald that doesn't pursue his oppressive plans? Where would he fit into the wizarding society? Still as a political figure that faces heat from all sides, a radical reformer pushing for exposing muggles to magic to improve wizards lifes? How would Albus fit into this if he would actually be with Gellert, would he face opposition from the ministry trying to get him off of Hogwarts, how would Albus friends now treat him and look at the relationship; newt/theseus etc seem to sympathise with Albus but their romance is 'safely' in the pass and Albus is "doing the right now" so to say...

I'm assuming you're asking about pursuing plans that subjugate Muggles as second-class citizens, if only because the rest of what he does isn't really that oppressive? At least, that's what I'm hoping, because that's what I want to talk about.

first things first, I think that reconciliation was possible after Ariana, but that both Albus and Gellert had a stick up their ass about it and didn't really feel like making nice. Albus is hearing from Aberforth that he failed and fucked up and he's an irresponsible idiot who put his dick ahead of what was good for the family (bold words from a man who got someone pregnant when he was fifteen, dude) and because he's self-hating about it he totally believes his brother. On the other side, Gellert is presumably upset about Ariana but justifiably believes that none of this would have happened if Aberforth hadn't started screaming at the pair of them that they couldn't take her away from him and they couldn't leave and how dare Albus do this, etc.

(another aside: the way Aberforth talks about this in Deathly Hallows is... creepy. there's not another word for it. it's creepy. Aberforth is someone else who JKR writes about in really loaded and frustratingly ableist terms, that's why I talk about him as a problematic figure, and unlike Albus and Gellert he hasn't really been retconned into a more positive guy, he's just creepy in completely different, equally cringe ways. also, Aberforth's simmering resentment in that same book really doesn't add up if you take what happened in FB canon into account, but this is if anything just more proof that we're well into what could be called JKR's The Peoples of Middle-Earth era)

so I think that they can reconcile, but I think it would probably have to be after Albus starts building a life for himself outside of his family. which brings us to something else - I think he taught at Hogwarts in the first place because of his sister and what happened to her. Consider that he's made significant impacts in the lives of two students from difficult backgrounds - Tom is a visibly troubled kid with serious problems who he takes under his wing and teaches and supports even though he's not Headmaster, and after he becomes Headmaster he goes out of his way to offer Remus safety even though Remus has what could be called outbursts that make him a danger to himself and other students. He never wants what happened to Ariana to happen to anyone else, he doesn't believe in turning someone away just because they'd be a challenge to help.

(one more aside: Obscuri as concepts are probably the thing Jo developed for the FB movies that do the most damage retroactively to series canon. Why wouldn't Harry have become an Obscurus when he was canonically punished for wandless magic? Why wouldn't Merope Gaunt have become one when her father and brother were physically and verbally abusive in the extreme and punished her both for not having enough magic and not exhibiting it in the right ways? What about Muggleborn kids from abusive homes or rough backgrounds? I think if she'd done more worldbuilding to establish what an Obscurial is and what an Obscurus is, this could have been avoided, but that even changes from film to film, with the most consistent lore in movie 1.)

but the point I'm trying to make is that if Albus is at Hogwarts, then it's a few decades later that Gellert decides to refocus. which means he's started his political movement, and he's begun gaining followers and loyalists. I could see them coming back together around the time that AWtFT is set, actually? if we're going by movie canon we genuinely don't know what it is he's done before this point except vague Bad Things that make the corrupt establishment look for him, and if we're going by book canon then it's completely wide open. but I think probably they'd come into contact, they'd talk it out, there would be apologies on both sides and then reconciliation. I really really want these two to be happy together. I want it very badly. I love them and I need them to be in a good place.

but realistically, I think it would have to be in a version of events where Gellert hadn't done anything actually and provably illegal - if he had committed serious crimes, he'd have to pay his debt to society with some kind of prison sentence, and Albus associating with him would be seriously detrimental to his reputation. They would want him out of his teaching job at Hogwarts (though whether or not that's successful would depend on how close Dippet was to the Ministry, because how much external influence the government has over the school is really never established firmly) and he'd be a bit of a pariah for fraternizing with a nascent Dark Lord.

but, if Gellert had only skirted close to breaking international law? they're good! the wizarding world is surprisingly libertarian when it's not an authoritarian state, and there's a shocking amount of bad shit one can get up to before it starts being the government's problem. all he has to do to stay with Albus forever is Never Commit Murder And Also Never Torture Anyone, which is surprisingly hard for him but is worth doing in the name of staying with your one true love forever, right?

so... who would he be, in this version of the story?

well, I think you're right - he'd still be a radical reformer, he wouldn't stop trying to bring down the system. but unlike canon, I think he'd get better at bridging the gap. like I've said before, the first Wizarding War is basically leftist infighting escalated to its logical conclusion - both Dumbledore and Grindelwald think society is bullshit, but one of them thinks Muggles are on the level of magical folk and one of them thinks Muggles need a bit of reverse-Uno-card imperialism to keep them in their place. if Grindelwald gave that up? shit, they'd basically be unstoppable. the underclasses of society vastly outnumber the upper classes, in both wizard and Muggle worlds, and a coalition of various groups (Muggle social justice activists and labor organizers, queer and landless and poor and otherwise disenfranchised wizards, magical creatures) would make short work of the establishment.

basically what I'm saying is that the take-over-the-world plan would have worked, and Gellert ruined it for himself by not aligning with Albus's idea of how things should be. sucks to be you, dude. better luck next time?

[bakugohoex]

Not neccesarily a request, but Porco would be the absolute blast to spend a quarantine lock down with. He would always find something creative to do with you and I stand by the headcannon that be can cook EXCEPTIONALLY well. Ya'll would be eating well. On top of it all, I mean look at him!? He's like a walking sex god. You guys could surely find something entertaining to do. If you get my gist.

“another lockdown with me, baby”

pairing: porco galliard x female reader

cw: modern au, nsfw (shower sex), aftercare

word count: 1200+

a/n: sorry i made this into a headcanon cause i loved the idea sm

summary: in which you and porco spend another national lockdown together

��� back to attack on titan masterlist

You remember last lockdown, being confined for 6 months just going on with work on team meetings and having girls night at home.

Yeah, well last time you had Porco with you and it was horrific.

2 months into your relationship you both ended up moving in with each other.

It was Porco’s idea as the idea of not seeing you every day broke him into pieces.

Imagine his little face for a week asking you to move in for hours on end, baby just wants to spend time with his fave girl.

Last lockdown, you both were a fresh new couple. This time, after a year together, it was a lot different. Your dynamic had been made and you both had a routine; he was still the same cocky bastard though.

He’d give such a smug look after hearing another national lockdown was happening, gleaming out a “another lockdown with me, baby”.

Lie ins, lie ins, lie ins, you both worked from home now and had daily meetings after midday. This boy will hold onto you for dear life and will never let you go.

Makes breakfast for you every day, he’s actually a decent cook because he loves food more than he loves you (he’d never tell you that though).

Will give you back massages from the strain of hunching your back in meetings. 

Boys a sweetie.

I know this man would see your bag on any online store and just buy it, he watched how easily you bought stuff last lockdown and now he’s the one buying it for you. Will add other clothes he likes, especially lingerie that he wants you to wear.

Workout who? The most you two do is go on a daily walk after dinner but that is literally it.

Movie nights and just cuddling in general, adorable boys just like you in their arms.

You both have separate nights a week where you have some wine/beer with your friends, he’ll stay in the living room and you in the bedroom, catching up with your own friends.

Definitely have a group call with your mutual friends and play drinking games to let loose.

With spare time, there's one thing that increases with both your alone time.

Sex everywhere, early morning kisses down your neck to the top of your underwear. Shower sex, bending you over whilst you make breakfast for him, before work calls, he’d fuck you and after work calls, he’d have these grabby hands to grab your tits.

This man just missed not seeing them for the two hour call you were both on, will put his head under your shirt and suck on them whilst he takes your jeans off. 

Late night sex, before dinner, just as you’re getting into bed. This man will wake you up at 3am after having a wet dream about you and want to fuck you.

His favourite was shower sex, he’d find himself joining you in the shower. He’d act like he came to wash your hair and body, but one slip of his finger and he began to rub against your clit.

Another rough hand against your mouth and his cock just happened to become hard and rub against your ass.

He will push you into the cold tiles and fuck you senseless, boy loves hearing the moans and soft whimpers you give. The water falling onto your back as his mouth goes to your breasts. Sucking as he slides back and forth with his cock pushing you to your limits.

Hearing you moan his name makes this man go wild, he just loves the sound of his name from your tongue. Will thrust even harder trying to hit every spot in you, this leads to you easily gushing onto his cock. 

Cum on sight, at seeing you cum he will cum back and you become dirtier than you did before you entered the shower. Baby will help you wash up though he may be horny, but he is a sweetie.

“We should do this every day.” He had just finished cleaning the cum from your body, the sweat that had etched onto your skin and the burning sensation away from your cunt. His smooth hands ran across your bare wet body, admiring you like a piece of artwork.

You leant against his body, giving a tired murmur back, “everyday, yeah…”

He laughed at how dull and tired your eyes looked, quickly grabbing the towel and helping you out. His own around his hips loosely, one action and he’d be free to you again, he helped to bring you out of the shower, holding your sore body with a gentle hand. “Couple more steps baby.” 

He left soft kisses against your shoulder as he directed you to the bedroom, he knew you'd be tired to dry your hair and your skin routine. Deciding to let you sit on the bed, he smiled at how you looked dazed almost high, perfect for him. “This one or this one.” He takes out clothes for you to sleep in, but you give a mumble of a third option.

“Your stuff.” He happily obliged grabbing his shirt and your underwear to put on you, you happily lifted your arms letting him put the shirt on before he softly lifted your legs. Small kisses going against your thighs, he was always so tender afterwards, so careful to not hurt you. 

“Let’s dry your hair and put some cream on and then we can cuddle, okay?”

“Okay baby.” You gleamed out watching as he got the hairdryer and easily moved along the bed to dry each part, he had worn some joggers having given you the shirt he was going to wear. His bare back hitting your back as he shuffled around you, he hummed a soft song that you could barely recognise but it soothed you.

“Sleep.” You whined out wanting to feel Porco’s arms around you as you watched some film you could fall asleep too.

“One more step, I know you’re tired, baby.” He put the hairdryer away, grabbing the moisturiser he knew you used. Taking some in his fingers he massages your face giving you a giggle.

You smiled as he rubbed the cream across your face, “my turn.” You pouted, he gave a soft smile, his blonde hair moving to both sides of his head. He passed the cream as you took some in your fingers putting it on his nose. You giggled at the white spots around his face before circling your fingers through it. 

“My skin better be glowing tomorrow.” He joked out as you chuckled at him, you moved backwards, finally reaching to the pillows as you felt it against your head.

Porco smiled seeing how you got under the covers in an instant. He quickly put some random show on, wanting background noise as he joined you in bed. “Come ‘ere.” He beckoned, making you lie beside him, his hand moving to your waist and others moving to cup your chest. 

“I love you.” You spoke slowly under the covers, he looked down to meet your small figure. The way you gave soft mewls at his action of massaging your right boob with his large hand.

“I love you too, baby.” He kissed the top of your head softly, watching how his love fell asleep.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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[ms-emily119]

Angry Sex

Warnings: 18+, Smut

So, we made this deal. If one of us were pissed off for some reason, like beyond reasoning and just wanted to get out our frustrations before we snap, we were allowed to let the other person know and you’d get a free sex pass. At first, we were both immature and thought about how much fun it’d be. He was certainly intrigued, but mostly because it was MY idea, and not his. Of course, he agreed because sex freely given? And angry sex, at that? “Hell, yes,” he yelled, before I could even finish my thoughts. It was an easy yes, on both sides. However, at the time I didn’t realize what I’d be getting myself into. We hadn’t acted on this proposal yet, as it would seem that things were going really well. Of course, we knew the day would come when one of us would get rubbed the wrong way, or just have a bad day above all days, but we’d been having really great days. Or, that is, until today. I’m sitting on the couch, the tv on in the background as I scroll through my phone. He has spent most of today in the studio, which I didn’t mind since I spent the day painting. It’s been a really great day on my end, but in the one message he’d sent me today, it seemed like he wasn’t having the same luck as me. He said he’d explain when he got home, telling me he was leaving right then and there because of how irritated he was, but that message was sent thirty minutes ago. Of course, I sit here in worry for his mental state, and what might be happening as he’s on his way home. When I look outside through the glass doors toward the backyard, I realize it’s raining. I can only imagine this isn’t helping the grumpy man that’s soon to be arriving home.  That’s when I hear a car door slam shut, as well as the back gate a few minutes later. Then, he’s coming through the back door, dripping wet with rain water and bringing in the storm with him. I stand to face him better, and take in the state of him. He’s pissed. Beyond pissed, that much I can tell.  He kicks off his sneakers, walking moodily to the dining table to throw down his keys and take the things in his pockets out. He huffs hot air through his nose, moving stiffly with ire. Then, when he’s done, he looks up and sees me. Now I can see his face, and there’s the storm. His eyes don’t hold the usual spark, a dark gray about them. They also lack the adoration for me that is always there, replaced by something colder and darker. His cheeks and ears are red from the blood rushed there in anger. His lips are in a thin pout, jaw clenching every so often. Maybe he’s afraid of what’s gonna fly out if he’s not too careful. Maybe he’s afraid he’ll say something he doesn’t mean with all the fury he’s trying to hold back. “Hey, baby,” I softly call, slowly putting my phone on the couch, not daring to break eye contact with him. He slowly blinks, letting out another deep exhale of air. He clenches his jaw again. He shifts on his feet slightly, his eyebrows coming together and his hands forming fists at his sides. He swallows and licks his lips once. He stares me down all the while, and now that I’m really looking, he’s shaking. I know for a fact that he’s not cold, so it can only be the bubbling anger. “Get upstairs to the bedroom,” he mumbles quietly, and I can just barely hear him, making the mistake of asking, “huh?” “I said get upstairs to the bedroom, right now, or so help me, I’ll take ya up there meself,” he finally breaks out into a loud voice, causing me to certainly not hesitate, running for the bedroom. I know now what’s going on. He’s pissed off enough, that’s for sure. He needs to release his rage, and he’s gonna take it out on me. I’m nervous and excited, my heart pounding in my chest as I hear him slowly make his way upstairs. I don’t know what to do, frantically looking around the room, and I must have not been where I was supposed to be because when he makes it to the door frame, he seems irritated. “Fuckin’ gone stupid, have ya? Clothes off and get on the bed. Now, I won’t repeat meself this time.” I quickly do as he asks, watching as he gets

closer and takes off his shirt. I lay down on the bed and he takes his place between my legs, stopping and looking down at me. His expression hasn’t changed, remaining uncharacteristically stoic. “Tell me right now if you don’t want this, because I’m not gonna be nice t’ ya. At least not tonight.” As I look at him, I can tell he really means every word. I can’t say no, not now. I know this will pass, but it won’t if he doesn’t get my permission to fuck my brains out and release the stress. I nod my head, causing him to raise an eyebrow. I know he means he wants to hear me say it, he prefers I use my words. “Yes, I want this. I want all of it. I can take it,” I say in a mock innocent voice. At this he huffs a chuckle, shaking his head. “Oh, darling. Ya can’t play innocent wit’ me. Ya know I know it’s all for show,” he gets closer, hovering over me now with his hands placed by my head, his chest and nose just barely touching mine. His breath cascades around my face. My legs instinctively go around his torso as his crotch meets mine. I whine at the fact his is still clothed, receiving a darker chuckle from him. He moves his lips to my ear, biting my earlobe a bit before speaking. “Don’t worry, pet. I’ll give ya want ya want,” he whispers, sending shivers down my spine. “But first, I’m gonna take care of her like always.” Normally, he’d kiss his way down my body, but this is different. He licks and sucks on my neck, getting me to arch my back off the bed. Then, his bites on my left breast, really sinking his teeth in and making me yelp. He only laughs, moving further down, and leaving bite marks on my hips and thighs. When he gets to where he wants, he doesn’t hesitate. He goes in, licking and sucking, hungrier than he ever has before, which says a lot for him because he loves going down on me. This time, he wants to get my every wanton reaction, not caring about how loud I am, or how rough he’s being with me.  He holds me down, keeping my legs apart while keeping my hips in place to have his way me. He’s being sloppy and filthy about it, too. I’m coating his lips and cheeks at this point, and I’m holding onto the sheets for dear life, unable to breathe properly. Before I know it, I hit my peak with a whiney moan. This doesn’t stop him, only encourages him to go further. He adds his fingers in now, reaching where I never could and playing all my strings like only he does. He brings me to the edge sooner than before, cleaning up the mess he made fervently. My legs shake around his head, but I can tell he isn’t satisfied.  He stands at the edge of the bed, looking down at me. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, coming back to hover over me again. His lips just barely touch mine, as if he wants to taunt me, which he probably does. He starts to grind over my sensitive pussy, not caring about my whines and pleas. He finally kisses me, spreading all of me over my lips and tongue. He’s kissing like he needs to, as if I’m the oxygen on earth, and he can’t breathe. I surely can’t as he grabs ahold of my hands to place them by head, still grinding on me and kissing me ardently. I bite at his lower lip to get his attention and look at him to let him know that I need him. But, as I mentioned before, he wants to hear me say it. “Ni, I need you. Please, need you.” This snaps something within him. He abruptly pulls away from me, much to my dismay, and strips out of the rest of his clothes. He huffs out heavy breaths once again, quickly moving to get back to me. Once he’s finished, he grabs ahold of me, moving me to face the bed. He raises my hips, getting me on my knees, and shoving my face into the bed. He comes to hover over me and whisper in my ear, holding the back of my neck with one hand and my hands behind me with the other. “Need me, huh? My fuckin’ slut needs me, eh? Alright, I’ll give ya what what ya lookin’ f’r.” At this, he pulls away, taking away his left hand from my neck and going to slap my ass. It stings, causing me to yell out. This only riles him up more and he smacks it

again. “Yeah? Ya like that? I fuckin’ knew ya would, ya fucking whore.” I whine, shaking my ass in hopes he’ll get the message. He apparently does because his hand comes down on my ass again, this time harder than before. “You’ll fuckin’ get me when I feel like it. You can knock that right off.” I whine again, causing him to hit my ass again. He places himself behind me, though. I know what’s coming, and I’m eager for it. He’s mumbling under his breath, I know it has something to do with me being a brat and greedy whore from what I can make out. He places his head at my pussy, but doesn’t go in. He toys with me, rubbing it slowly, up and down my lips. I gasp, rolling my hips back in response. He groans, finally going in, both of us moaning at the feeling. But, of course, I don’t realize what’s about to take place for me.  He starts pounding into me, not letting me adjust like he normally would. Of course, this isn’t like it always is, even when we’re fucking. He doesn’t care at the moment. All he wants is to have me ruined on this bed, that much I can tell. He slams into me, soft grunts leaving his lips, and loud moans and whines from me. That’s when he pulls me to sit up on his thighs, still thrusting up into me. He lets go of my hands, but pulls my head back by my hair so he can suck and bite on my neck. I grab onto the hair at the back of his head, the other hand going to rub on my breast. This catches his attention, causing him to groan. His left hand travels down to my clit, rubbing on it in rough circles. My mouth goes slack, short breaths leaving past my lips. I genuinely can’t breathe, being overworked and overwhelmed by him. “Look at yourself in the mirror,” he whispers in my ear, I snap my eyes over to the mirror above the dresser that I’d normally use to make sure my attire looks alright. Now, it holds the reflection of him thrusting his hips up into me while he plays with my clit and I play with my breasts, thoroughly fucked out. “Look at ya, petal. Look at you gettin’ fucked out by me,” he says just before I clench around him in pleasure, making him whimper in my ear. “Fuck. Do that again, and you’re gettin’ even more ruined.” Of course, I have to challenge him. I do it again, only to have him abruptly push me forward, his hands slamming down onto the bed frame by my head. He has a different angle now, using it to his advantage. “Okay, brat. You wanna challenge me then, yeah?” He removes his right hand from the bed frame, going to my right leg that he raises and begins to snap his hips in to me like that. I hold onto the bed frame as well, needing something to ground myself to as my peak starts to creep up faster. I can just barely tell him. “Ni, I…,” I try to start to say. “Ni, I can’t hold on. Please, let me cum. Please, Ni. Fuck.” “Fuckin’ ya stupid, am I? Yeah, cum for me, ya fuckin’ slut. Go on then.” I nearly black out when I finally cum, yelling swears and his name. They become the only things on my mind. He’s truly fucked me stupid, and he knows it. As I go over the edge, I pull him with with me. He shouts out a curse, repeating my name over and over. When he finishes, he pulls out quickly to sit back on his heels and catch his breath, while I lose my grip on the bed and fall over on my side. He says something to me, but I can’t hear him over the ringing in my ears and the breaths I pant through my mouth. “Petal,” he questions louder, causing me to open my eyes, which I didn’t realize were closed. I look up at him, concern filling his eyes that are now bright and beautiful blue, the spark restored as well. “Are ya okay? I’m sorry if I as too rough wit’ ya. I didn’t mean t’ be, I was just so fuckin’ mad.” I start to breathlessly laugh, which surprises him into a nervous smile. “Do you feel like talking about it now,” I ask, causing him to laugh, too.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Go the Distance

Prompt: Hello, I absolutely adore your work 🥺😍🥺 your Sanders Sides angst is just so goooood!!! If you're up to it, I'd love to request a fic <3 Virgil has noticed [side(s?) of your choice; they're all good choices, I can't decide ;-;] has been distant and avoiding him and he just can't figure out what he did wrong but it's actually because [side] loves him and are trying to take some time to 'get rid of/push down their feelings' The angster the better but don't push yourself ^ Feel free to add or change whatever Have a great day and no worries if you don't do this 💜💜💜~@im-an-anxious-wreck 💜🖤

Thanks for the prompt babe you’re the best

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, some lite™ angst

Pairings: prinxiety, background platonic dlampr because found family dynamics motherfuckers

Word Count:  4191

Virgil and Roman's relationship hasn't always been, well, great. But it's been getting better!

Or, at least, it was.

Listen, Virgil knows he and Roman haven’t exactly had the most…painless history. Virgil’s introduction to the series was Thomas telling Roman his dream was to get rid of him and, well, Roman was first and foremost loyal to Thomas. Then the whole…insult thing, ducking out, and the absolute mess of the callback wedding debacle, it’s not exactly been smooth sailing.

 But—okay, and maybe they’d been a little harsher about things than absolutely necessary, and maybe Roman got hit with the consequences of their fights more than Virgil, and maybe Virgil hadn’t exactly been…overwhelmingly accepting of all of Princey’s little ticks.

 But they’d still been talking!

 After the wedding, no one was on good terms with anyone save Patton and Janus—and wasn’t that the shock of a lifetime—and Remus and Virgil. Because they made the smart choice and decided ‘nope, fuck that, I’m out.’

 It was a good choice. You have any idea how high their scores are in GTFO now? The first rundown’s a fucking cakewalk.

 Anyway.

 They’d been talking! Virgil still doesn’t know exactly what happened right after—he saw the video, of course he saw the video, but Roman sunk right to his room and there’s a good twelve hours between that and the next time Virgil saw him—but Roman had come out and approached him!

 Probably because he was still hurt by the end of the video—which oof, Virgil does not blame him for, that was harsh—and his only options were Logan, Virgil, and Remus and Logan, um, didn’t want to see anyone for a while and Remus is Remus.

 Side note: those two have been getting on better. Something about their twin Creativity thing meant Remus knew that Roman was hurting bad before even Thomas did.

 But Roman did seek him out, asking him quietly if he had a moment, just a moment, to sit together. Virgil had shrugged and passed it off as nothing only for Princey to literally sit on the floor and not make a fucking noise. He’d frowned and poked his shoulder, asking if he was alright.

 “Perfectly fine, Dark and Stormy,” Roman had said lightly, “and I’ll leave you in a moment.”

 “But you’re…” Virgil had waved to his silent form. “…not acting like you normally do.”

 Roman had laughed. “And here I thought I’d never hear you say you missed me being loud.”

 “Now let’s not jump to conclusions.”

 Sure enough, a few more seconds had passed and Roman had gotten up, quietly bid Virgil good day, thanked him, and left.

 You bet your ass Virgil sunk straight into Patton’s room to ask hey what the fuck did you do to Roman.

 Patton had sighed and said that they’re not sure what to do now—‘they’ being Janus and Patton. Virgil, still recovering from the whiplash of those two being close had shaken his head and told them to get it the fuck together.

 If he sunk into Remus’s room to ask how to take care of Roman, that’s his business. It’s also his business if he tackled Princey in a hug two minutes later.

 So. Talking.

 Roman, for all he talks, doesn’t really say much. The few things he does say are easily passed off as jokes, off-handed comments that no one really pays much attention to.

 Not that anyone pays nearly enough attention to Roman, come on, guys, he makes it easy.

 But Roman talked to Virgil. He’d come in and sit and Virgil would sit next to him, trying to make sure his arm didn’t burst into flames from where it was pressed against Princey—the dude’s a fucking space heater, okay?—just to listen. Some of the time it was Disney rants—okay, most of the time it was Disney rants—but some of the time…

 “Virgil?”

 “Yeah?”

 Roman looked down at his costume. Today was repair day, unofficially called when Virgil’s hoodie ripped during the night and Roman’s sword cut through his sleeve. Virgil looked up from his own mass of fabric, needle stuck in carefully so he wouldn’t prick himself. He frowned at the look on Roman’s face.

 “What’s up, Princey?”

 “Do you think my logo looks bad?”

 Virgil blinked in shock. Roman didn’t look up and see the surprise on his face, instead running his thumb slowly over the patch on the costume.

 “What the fuck are you talking about, Princey?”

 “It’s so complicated,” Roman said, still looking down, “Logan and Patton have really simple ones. You have a pretty simple one.”

 “Janus doesn’t. Remus doesn’t.”

 “Yeah, but they’re…”

 Virgil frowned deeper, putting his hoodie on the ground and shifting closer to Roman. The prince didn’t even look up, still clutching his logo in his hands.

 “They’re what, Roman?”

 Roman swallowed. “…allowed.”

 A growl sounded from Virgil’s throat before he knew what was happening.

 “And you’re not?”

 “Hmm?”

 “And you’re not allowed, Roman?” Virgil gripped his shoulder. “Look at me, Princey.”

 Roman looked up. Virgil swallowed another growl at the despondent look on the prince’s face. Instead, he gripped Roman’s shoulder tighter.

 “No one,” he said firmly, “is allowed to tell you your logo is bad. You hear me?”

 Roman blinked.

 “I mean it, Roman,” he said, softening his voice a little, “it’s you. It’s yours, no one’s allowed to tell you it’s wrong.”

 “So that’s…okay?”

 “Yeah, Princey, it’s okay.”

 “Oh.” Roman looked back down at his costume. “Okay. Thank you, Virgil.”

 “Anytime.”

 Virgil would come to be astounded at how much he means that.

 Because, really, now that Roman’s talking? Virgil’s fucking shocked that they didn’t realize how much Roman actually has to offer.

 First off, Princey’s smart as hell. Sure, L’s the resident braincell but you can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time.

 If Logan tries to tell you he’s not a dumbass sometimes he is wrong.

 Roman can puzzle solve with the best of them. Do you have any idea how much brainpower it takes to write a story? A script? Understand how all those moving parts fit together and make sense as a whole? Virgil sure as hell didn’t. He spent one afternoon trying to help Roman only for it to end up as Roman explaining what he was doing and Virgil frantically trying to keep up. Don’t even get him started on how impressive the Imagination stuff is.

 “It’s my job, Fall Out Brood,” Roman laughs every single time Virgil expresses how fucking cool this is, “have to be good at something.”

 And Roman is. He’s good.

 Second: Patton may be the heart, Logan may be the brains, but no one is as good at reassuring him as Roman. Probably has something to do with the Creativity gig. Roman had asked, politely, if Virgil would be comfortable telling him what to do when he gets really anxious, whether to leave him alone, get him somewhere safe, get him things, what have you. Virgil had told him, bemused, only to be shuttled into somewhere that screamed safewarmcomfortableeverythingisokay the next time he had a panic attack. Roman, with the lack of shame truly becoming of a theatre kid, had no problems cheering him up by loudly declaring he would fight whatever shadowy figures plagued his little nightmare, swatting at the air with his sword until Virgil’s sobs had turned into giggles. He never made Virgil talk about anything if he didn’t want to, didn’t try to sit and work through things if they weren’t ready, and never touched him unless he’d gotten the okay. The first time Virgil told him he’d be fine with receiving hugs in the aftermath was the warmest he’d felt in years.

 Princey gives really good hugs.

 Third: Roman’s fucking funny.

 Remember the whole ‘smart as hell’ thing? Know how Logan’s funny as fuck too when he lets himself be?

 Virgil’s lost count of how many times he’s had to gasp out for Roman to shut the fuck up because his sides hurt too much from laughing. He ends up sprawled across the fucking floor or the couch or Princey’s bed, dying very happily but painfully because Roman won’t stop making him laugh.

 Most of the time it’s due to something they’re watching and Roman’ll notice some detail that he picks apart until they’re both howling or Virgil will make one sarcastic comment that turns into a full fucking bit for like…ten minutes. Roman will just keep riffing off of the smallest thing until he’s laughing too hard to keep going—not very likely—or Virgil will flail out desperately and smack him—much more likely.

 Princey said he makes fun of the things he loves.

 …maybe that’s why he doesn’t make fun of Virgil anymore.

 Virgil curls tighter around the pillow, clutching it to his chest. As he rubs his cheek against it, he grimaces. It’s too rough. It’s not warm enough. It doesn’t smell right.

 They’d been talking. It had been good.

 But that was before.

 Before Roman had cautiously approached Logan with an apology, the offering of a new planner for him, the promise to listen to him, hear him out, give him space to speak. Logan had accepted.

 Before Roman had opened the border between his and Remus’s side of the Imagination, sending a little puppy scuttling over to his brother’s castle with a note, a dagger, and a vial of acid. It returned as a kitten with a beautifully poisonous rose.

 Before Roman had finally, finally, after days of trying, opened the door when Patton knocked, letting him come inside so they could talk, about everything that happened since…well, ever. They hadn’t stopped hugging long enough to walk down the stairs.

 Before Roman had let Janus, Janus, take care of him.

 And now…

 Now Roman didn’t want to be in the same room as him.

 It feels as if they’re walking on eggshells around each other again, Virgil appearing in a room only for Roman to completely disappear, getting up and leaving a conversation entirely just to avoid him, Virgil knocking on Roman’s door only for Roman to shout that he’s busy, not to come inside, Virgil, trying, trying to figure out where Roman’s gone, what’s happened, only to receive the cold shoulder.

 A problem none of the other Sides seemed to be having.

 He clutches the pillow to his chest.

 Did he—did he do something wrong?

 Does Roman—does Roman not like him anymore?

 Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed so hard about talking to the others. Roman needed space, needed time, he didn’t need someone else breathing down his neck. He should’ve let Roman set the pace, listened more, been kinder to him when he needed reassurance.

 Maybe he shouldn’t have made Roman think it was his fault that the others were taking so long, or suggested that if he wanted things to get better he should try talking first. Roman had been taught by everyone else that things were his fault already, Virgil didn’t need to jump on that train too.

 Maybe he should’ve been kinder to Roman, less focused on making the others understand that they hurt Roman. Everyone in the Mindscape knew that Roman was hurt, Virgil should’ve helped fix that, taken care of Roman, not pushed the blame onto everyone else.

 Maybe Roman didn’t like what he had to say about Disney films. They were Roman’s comfort watches, the last thing he needed was for someone to cruelly rip away his enjoyment of one of the few things he could enjoy.

 Maybe Roman didn’t like Virgil’s way of taking care of him. Virgil never pushed, never did Roman the courtesy of asking, like Roman did with him, just assumed he knew best how to comfort someone and left it there. Roman might’ve needed more hugs, more time, less distraction, just something other than what Virgil gave him.

 Maybe Roman didn’t like how much Virgil ended up hoarding him to himself. Not letting him go to the others for comfort, just to work things out. Maybe he thought Virgil was just keeping him upset so he could hang out with him more.

 Or maybe…

 Virgil muffles his sob in the pillow.

 Maybe Roman needed or wanted him anyway.

 Maybe Roman was just waiting until he could get the comfort he actually wanted. Maybe he waited until the others were easier to talk to so he could go back to what he really needed. Maybe Virgil was just a placeholder until Roman could get hugs from Patton and Remus, talk with Logan and Janus, not him. Never him.

 Maybe that’s…okay.

 It’s not, it won’t be fucking okay for a long time, but one day, it will be okay.

 Virgil curses and throttles the pillow in his arms, wishing for it to be real, to be warm, to be a chest of white and gold and a splash of red, for it to wraps its arms around him and say it’s okay, shadow-ling, I’m here, I won’t leave you, shh.

 But it’s just a pillow.

 Has his room always been this cold?

 Have Disney movies always looked this flat?

 Has music always sounded this gray?

 Has Virgil always been this alone?

 He can hear them in the living room below him. He can hear Roman and Logan throwing quips back and forth, can hear Remus tackling his brother into the wall, and Roman protesting. He can hear Janus scolding Remus and checking to make sure Roman’s not injured, can hear Roman wave him off gently and go right back to verbally sparring with Logan. He can hear Patton laughing too hard, falling off the couch and begging the two of them to let up, let him breathe, can hear Roman coo and call him sweet, adorable, in that soft voice he only uses when he’s talking to someone he cares about.

 Can’t hear any of them worrying about where he is.

 Maybe it’s better this way.

 He got greedy, took too much of what was never his to take, what wasn’t given to him freely. He latched onto the first thing he thought was for him and didn’t stop to think that it wasn’t. He may think he’s been included in the famILY but he knows he’s still an outsider.

 He may be Virgil now but deep down he’ll always be Anxiety.

 So here he will stay, in the cold of his room, in the dark of his face smushed into a pillow that will never be real. He will stay and he will be happy.

 But not today.

 He sniffles and smears his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie, not bothering to pull away from the pillow long enough to wipe tears properly. His limbs start to protest as he hugs it tighter, tighter, tighter, but it’s no use. He can feel his own arms through the pillow. There isn’t enough—there’s too much give in the pillow. It’s just a fucking pillow but it’s not enough.

 Another laugh from downstairs and Virgil growls, burying his head in the pillow until he can’t hear himself think.

 Can’t hear anything but his own muffled sobs ringing in his ears.

 Can’t hear anything other than the thought swirling around and around his head that he’ll never be enough, that he’ll never be wanted, that he’ll never be anything other than Anxiety.

 Can’t hear the soft knock at the door.

 “Virgil?”

 The voices in his head must be getting pretty powerful because he’s certain he can hear Roman calling for him. He buries deeper in the pillow.

 “Virgil? Virgil, can you hear me?”

 Yes, he thinks, yes, I can hear you, which means I’m not crying hard enough.

 “Can I come in, shadow-ling?”

 Yes, he thinks, come in and make me forget that you don’t need me anymore.

 He must really be losing it because he thinks he can hear the door open and close again with a soft click, followed by a sharp intake of breath and a soft coo.

 “Oh, shadow-ling,” the imaginary Roman murmurs, “come here, little Stormcloud.”

 Oh, his imagination is being cruel to him right now because the sensation of warm arms around his waist and shoulders fucking burns. He buries his face in the pillow until he can’t tell which way is up anymore, not sure how he’s tricked himself into imagining Roman’s cradling him but too unwilling to let the illusion go.

 “That’s right, Stormcloud, relax for me, I’ve got you, I’m right here, shh, shh, you’re alright,” the imaginary Roman keeps whispering in that cruelly soft voice, “you’re doing great, shadow-ling.”

 Virgil wants him to be real. So bad he aches from it. But he knows he’s not.

 What happens next breaks his fucking heart.

 The imaginary Roman kisses him.

 It’s chaste, a barely-there brush of his lips against his forehead but it tears a whine out of Virgil’s throat before he can stop it. The imaginary Roman hushes him gently, pressing another kiss to the part of his cheek not buried in the pillow and it taunts him with how real it feels. The slightly chapped lips, the warm rush of air as Roman breathes, the light brush of his nose as he pulls away.

 It’s too much.

 It’s too much and he wants it to be real so badly but he knows the instant he pulls away it will vanish and that might just break him.

 Then he realizes the imaginary Roman is talking to him.

 “Breathe, Stormcloud, you’ve got to breathe,” he coaxes, “I know it’s tempting to stay buried in a pillow all day, but you can’t breathe properly like that, sweetheart.”

  No, no, don’t call me sweetheart, I’ll break.

 “Shadow-ling, Stormcloud, my darling,” the imaginary Roman says instead, “come on…”

 Well, now he’s disappointing imaginary Roman too. Figures. He can’t do anything right.

 “Of course you can,” the imaginary Roman pleads, “just breathe for me, shadow-ling, I’m right here, I’ve got you, you can keep your eyes closed if you need to, just breathe.”

 Another whine. Another kiss pressed against his head. The whine grows louder.

 “Shh, shh, my darling,” imaginary Roman murmurs, “breathe, come on, just—trust me, okay? Can I ask that of you, Stormcloud?”

 And goddamnit, this is why Virgil can’t do anything.

 Virgil trusts him.

 So he prepares himself for heartbreak and lifts his head.

 “Thank you, shadow-ling,” imaginary Roman—wait, he’s still here?—murmurs, rubbing his back, “there you go, now just breathe—oh! Oh, come here, lean on me, I’ve got you.”

 Having listed to the side horribly, Virgil lands against a solidwarmsafereal chest and—and—

 “R-Roman?”

 “Yes, my darling,” not imaginary Roman says, still kissing Virgil’s forehead, “I’m here, I’m here.”

 White-hot rage burns Virgil’s tears.

 He lets out a yell and shoves, not caring that it throws them both horribly off-balance, threatening to send him tumbling to the floor. He hears Roman cry out, trying to keep ahold of him, but he scrabbles and gets his hands around the bedpost and pulls.

 “Virgil—Virgil stop, you’re going to hurt yourself—“

 “Why do you care?” The rage coats his tongue. “You fucking left, you—you—you fucking didn’t care about me anymore, you decided you didn’t want me anymore and you fucking left so don’t try and care now!”

 “Virgil—sweetheart, I—“

 “Don’t fucking call me that!” He keeps his eyes squeezed tight. “You didn’t give a fuck about me when you left, when you got your fucking family back, you think—you think you can just waltz back in like you didn’t abandon me?”

 “Virgil—“

 “Because you did, Roman!” Virgil blindly shoves at where the prince was before, knocking him into the wall. “You fucking left me as soon as you got the others back like I—like I never did anything for you and now you—now you can’t even look at me.”

 “I’m looking at you now.”

 Virgil laughs.

 He throws his head back and howls until his chest and throat ache.

 “You didn’t give a shit when the others started talking to you. You just fucking up and abandoned me like you never cared about me in the first place. You replaced me with them or—or abandoned me as your placeholder and I’m fucking hurt, Roman.”

 “I know.”

 “Then why did you do it?”

 Silence.

 Virgil’s heart stops.

 No.

 No, no, no, no—

 He fucked up.

 He fucked up so bad.

 Roman left.

 Roman’s not here anymore.

 Roman left again, he made Roman leave, he—he fucked up so bad, he shouldn’t have yelled, he’s fucked up, he hurt Roman, no, no, no, no—

 On instinct, his hands hook into claws.

 Only to be caught by warmsolidreal hands and brought to something soft.

 “Don’t,” comes Roman’s softsaferealhurt voice, murmuring in his ear as he holds him still, “don’t scratch, sweetheart.”

 “Don’t—“

 “I know, I know,” Roman says immediately, “you said not to call you that. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”

 …what?

 “I didn’t realize I was hurting you,” comes the voice again, “that’s no excuse, I know, but please, Virgil, I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to abandon you.”

 Virgil swallows. “What the fuck do you call it then?”

 “I didn’t want to push my luck.”

  What?

 “You were being so good to me, Virgil,” Roman murmurs, oblivious to the internal struggle Virgil’s currently facing, “so kind, so supportive, that I…I realized I wanted to ask more from you. Things I had no business asking. And the longer you kept on being you, the harder it was to resist the urge to push and risk shattering everything you’d let me build with you.”

 “What—“ Virgil swallows— “what the fuck did you want?”

 Roman stills in front of him. With his eyes still shut, he can’t tell what’s going on, but when Roman speaks next his voice is hoarse.

 “Before I ask,” comes the whisper, “I want you to know that you have every right to say no. You can push me away, shove me out of your room, stay angry at me for as long as you want. I’ve hurt you, badly, and I have no right to ask this of you. I want you to know that. That I’m okay with you asserting that right.”

 Fuck, Princey.

 “…what do you want?”

 A pause. Then a soft rush of air, right on his face.

 “May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

 Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

 “R-Roman?”

 “That’s it,” Roman murmurs and oh, his mouth is right next to Virgil’s, “that’s what I want, shadow-ling.”

 He shifts a little until Virgil can feel Roman’s warmth.

 “That and everything that goes with it.”

 “Why—why did you leave? I-if that’s what you wanted?”

 “Because that would mean to push,” Roman says immediately, “and the last thing I wanted was to push you away. I thought if I could…rein it in, control it, I could…I wouldn’t hurt you.”

 A soft chuckle.

 “Look how well that turned out.”

 “But the others—“

 “I needed Remus to tell me what was going on,” Roman says wryly, “Janus to point out that I was okay in wanting something, Patton to help me figure it out, and Logan to kick my ass into doing it.”

 “To…to ask me?”

 “Yes, Stormcloud,” comes the whisper, “to ask you.”

 “And if I say yes?”

 He can feel Roman’s lips turn up.

 “…then I’ll kiss you, Stormcloud.”

 “Are you really here?”

 The question bursts out of him before he can stop it, immediately biting his lip in reprimand for letting it.

 “Open your eyes, Virgil,” Roman says softly, “look at me.”

 He shakes his head, not wanting it to be imaginary. Not now, not after this. Roman squeezes his hands.

 “Look at me, Stormcloud,” he whispers, “look at me.”

  Fuck it.

 Roman smiles at him, real and warm and soft and here. He squeezes Virgil’s hands again and takes the smallest step closer.

 “I’m here,” he says, wrapping Virgil’s arms around his neck, “I’m right here, shadow-ling.”

 He’s here.

 This won’t fix everything. But it’s one hell of a start.

 “Ask me again.”

 “May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

 Virgil shakes his head. “Not like that. Ask me properly.”

 Confusion dances on Roman’s face before realization hits. His smile widens and he brings a hand to Virgil’s head. Virgil clutches Roman tight as he gets dipped into the prince’s arms. Roman leans forward until his mouth almost catches Virgil’s.

 “May I kiss you, sweetheart?”

  “Yes.”

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[ringmyheart]

Dating Johan headcanons? Your Vinjin one was literal ✨gold✨ and yk so now i'm super curious about how you'd think dating Johan would be like.

Thank you!! 😭 I hope I did this well <33 also a warning, skip to where I wrote [HERE] if you’re uncomfortable w reading anything ab religion. Also I didn’t mean to offend any religion I am religious myself and didn’t specify any to avoid saying something incorrectly !

If you’re religious, he’s very VERY wary and cautious. Not of you but of the people you’re with, and it worries him a LOT

If u tell him ur hanging out with church friends he’s either insisting he comes too or asking a suspicious amount of questions of ur whereabouts and watching u from afar. He’ll probably step in on accident cuz he saw them like reach for ur shoulder or smmn and intervene cuz he thought like u were ab to get kidnapped but they were just gonna bring ur awareness to the food store around u, he’d be so on edge

He doesn’t like entering churches but if u go and u won’t negotiate on wether u can or can’t go, he’ll risk it all and come too

He’ll rough up the preacher after the service tho like “what’s your thing ???? Like what do you do.” And ask them questions completely unrelated and honestly kind of confusing to intimidate them

Like, “oh so this is all u do? U just preach?”

“Uh, yeah I love my job and am devoted. :) 👍”

“u have no other job? Nothing?”

“No...”

“R u married?”

“Yep!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“What??”

And he meant like yeah good keep ur eyes off of u his s/o or SMM but it came out off putting and frankly indiscernible 😭

While in the service he might even start to shake cuz he’s so worried if he sees AC or hears it running he’ll grab ur hand and book it cuz he thinks ur being poisoned 😭

[HERE]

Likes to share things with you, like clothes and all. U know that black jacket he always wears it’s also ALWAYS on u too

Half of it is cuz he’s stingy w money naturally so it’s like less money spent if u guys r sharing ur food and clothes and all

So ur always wearing his stuff but in return he’s always wearing urs and like even shoes. If ur taller than him and have clothes that were his size he has ur old wardrobe in his closet now as hand me downs

HE PROBABLY wraps ur shirt around his wrist as a good luck charm before fights. Before he gets into a showdown he’ll wrap it around like his arm and kiss it and say ur name or whatever and he swears if he does this tradition he cannot lose he won’t let himself

Because u don’t spend much money, u have wired earphones (nothing wrong w that ofc) HOWEVER if ur listening to music together and he runs into someone he has beef with he’ll start swinging and ur just there like 🧍🏽‍♀️ cuz the earphones r still connected and he’s fighting to the death w like sweet but psycho playing in the background

He loves physical activities to do together. If ur not active u probably will be now forcefully bc he’ll be like please and u can’t say no so now ur hiking every day

Forgets to wait up for u bc he gets rlly ahead of himself the amount of times u get lost on the trail is unbelievable and he eventually establishes the “if u lose me, HUG A TREE AND I WILL FIND YOU” rule w u and now three times a week ur hugging a tree and waiting for him to come pick u up in the middle of the woods

He’ll apologize and tries to teach u the layout but u don’t memorize it ever

Also loves biking and gets u matching bikes, likes walking the dogs w u, going on runs etc. if u cannot run he grabs ur hand and is all its okay u got this :)) like thanks for the sentiment but it doesn't help💀

DO NOT DO HOBBIES W THIS MF!!!!!!!!! If u like to dance and tell him he’ll do it with you and within two days he leagues better than you it would suck

He is so good at picking things up if u play just dance for fun he will kick ur ass and ur like bro I thought we were just playing having fun wtf 😕 and he genuinely wasn’t even trying

So if ur competitive don’t put him on the hobbies ur into cuz he will start it a beginner and be better than u within three days

He’ll feel so bad tho if he finds out u don’t like it. Like when u drew stuff he’d sit by u and draw too and when u saw he was advancing to surpass u u stopped. He thought u just grew out of it but finds u in like a closet drawing to hide from him

But he loves doing stuff ur interested in w u even if it’s something he was never into. If u like it he likes it by association

The type of boyfriend to buy you ten fruits if you say you like one.

In passing you mention liking watermelon the next day you come home there are ten on your counter and he’s like hey :DD!

Gets you a matching dog god jacket like him so u two and ur dogs r matching always

He doesn’t care if you’re wrong, he will die defending you!!! U r always in the right what do u mean the total cost is 10.00$?? What do u mean it says 10$ on the register?? They said it was 8$ u heard them

He’s pretty reserved when it comes to personal stuff and just everything in general. U will be three years into the relationship and realize u don’t know what his last name is??!!!

He’s a “I didn’t see why it was so important” mf... if u ask ab his past or occupation he’ll tell you but in a way that underplays it extremely. Because he isn’t that ready to be vulnerable and open up as well as thinking u might not care or you’ll leave him

He’s a pretty jump-y person because he had to be alert and on his toes most of the time. If you surprise him by accident by being too quiet then appearing right by him he’ll jump three feet up like a cat or sock you in the face then apologize profusely and tear up feeling horrible

He’s pretty perceptive but when caught off gaurd he gets very nervous, can’t help it

While watching tv shows or bingeing a series he will narrate everytning to u. Because he really enjoys the show and wants to make sure u understand in the fullest too and enjoy it. If he didn’t understand sometning in the beginning but then understands you HAVE to know too

“Oh my god he just shot him....”

“The dog RUNS AWAY!?”

“She said she loves him oh my gosh...”

“They’re kissing?”

Like yes Johan.... we know.... if you tell him he’ll stop but it’s like programmed in his DNA to not shut up while watching tv he can’t help it

He’ll also pause the show to turn to u and go “I KNOW HIM!!”

And ur like “rlly?? OMGG”

And he’ll go “YEAH he’s also in that other show remember :O” and u realize he does not know him recognizes him

😑😔 .

He’s not that updated on internet and how humor has progressed over the past few years so if u send him any meme over 2015 he will be so confused

Send this and he’ll text back “😅 why did you send me this?”

“Is that sonic?”

“Are these your texts with someone?”

Otherwise he’s a pretty normal texted. He uses punctuation sometimes which will throw u off gaurd cuz it will be like “I love you.” And it’s like sweet but why did he add the period?? But he doesn’t always so it’s regular

If playing sports or doing something competitive he threatens everyone in the beginning to let you win and always lets u get the score/goal/net, whatever. He pulls everyone into him prengame by their collar and is like “listen ur letting them win got that. If I see u take that ball from them....”

He’s a helicopter boyfriend he is always seeing what ur doing what ur up to how u are, etc. protective to a fault basically

Holds u back when crossing the street as if ur seven years old

I have more I could say, but I’ll inevitable write another johan relationship hcs some day again so I’ll save it for then 😅 I hope this was what I wanted! Thank you for requesting ❤️❤️

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The General (part 9.5): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: it’s over. the ruse is up.

wc: 2.1k

tw: none

masterlist

“Have you ever considered just not going to meet the Prince and remaining in your rooms?” Kaori wonders as you sharpen a blade with a rock. “I mean, I’m sure he wouldn't bother you if you assumed the appearance of an invalid. How about getting out of town for a week?” 

She’s tried everything to get you to reconsider your stance on killing Prince Naoya. Any theory, any loophole, any cop-out; Kaori’s said it. But you have no choice. Geto has to be avenged, and the only way you can manage vengeance is killing the man who sent your lover to his death. 

“Listen, we have only a couple of days left. We can use poison, strangulation, accidental drowning, and straight-up murder - which I think is the messier of the bunch.” Toji ticks off methods as he watches you work away at the blade with determination. “I vote we poison his food, and if that doesn’t work, smothering can go a long way.” Megumi peers into the little pond in front of him as his father discusses treason, entirely uninterested in anything but finding another frog to play with. You envy the child and wish that you could take his place, forgetting everything else except the current pursuit of a frog. But your frog is much more elusive, slippery, and well-guarded.

“We have to drug the guards first,” you note, and Toji grunts affirmatively, biting his lip as he stares past you, deep in thought. You look at the scar on his mouth and squint, wondering if you’re just now noticing the pink-ish raised mark or if you’d seen it before, but never noted the way it looks against his tanned skin in the sunlight. You look away before anyone can accuse you of staring, but make a note to ask about the injury later. 

“How can you be assured that none of this will affect your parents?” Kaori wonders, and you look at her with a pensive stare. 

“I’m sure it wouldn’t affect them. They know nothing of the plot and I--”

“If you’re dead, you can’t defend them,” she reminds you, and for a moment, you reconsider the plan altogether. 

“Toji, do you think you could get my parents out of here safely?” 

“I can’t guarantee shit,” he replies, resting his chin on his palm as his green eyes focus in on you again. “But I can sure as hell try.” He adds when you give him a defeated look. You respond to his addition with a half-smile, and he rolls his eyes at the sight, huffing out a short breath. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“Try and hit me,” Toji encourages you, and you reach a hand out to slap him across the face. But you miss entirely and stumble forward, almost face-planting into the ground. “You can’t put all of your force in your upper body like that.” He chastises, stepping in front of you again. 

“Give me a rake and we’ll see about that,” you counter, earning you a loud laugh. Toji takes his stance again, hands prepared for a fight. 

“Come on, little girl, put up a serious fight. You don’t need a rake.” You inhale deeply, centering yourself with one foot placed behind you at an angle and one foot in front, planted firmly into the dirt. “Hit me.” 

The roundhouse kick narrowly misses Toji’s tan face, and his eyes widen as your heel barely scrapes his nose. 

“I said hit me, not kill me!” The bodyguard gripes, and you laugh at his overly-surprised expression and step back, holding your stomach as you bend over in a fit of giggles. When you stop and straighten back up, you catch Toji staring at you in wonder. 

“What?” 

“Your laugh… I’ve never heard you laugh like that before.” At the mention of your enjoyment, you hum thoughtfully, realizing, yes - you hadn’t laughed so heartily in a long time. But in his moment of unguardedness, you shoot your hand out - the fist making contact with his gut immediately. He grunts, holding his abs and wincing a little. “You… fucking... bi--” Before he can finish his sentence and grab you, you take off for the hill behind the house, laughing as you run with all of your might.

But Toji catches up to you easily, grabbing your elbow and making you tumble to the grass, then roll back down the hill in his arms. As you roll - and scream - grass and dirt and wildflowers are kicked up and tossed into your hair and clothes, dirtying your face as well. When you stop though, you’re on top of Toji, and his arms are crushing you against his chest protectively. 

“You can let go now,” you groan, and he opens his emerald eyes, staring right into yours with an intensity you’ve only seen on one other person’s face. “Toji…” you whisper, and his face changes again, now softer and much more… relaxed, if that was even possible. He blinks, and you pause, recognizing the meaning behind his looks. “Fushiguro, I--” He lets you go immediately, clearing his throat and standing. 

“We should get back before dinner. I’m fucking starving.” He saunters off with his hands in his pockets, not even offering to help you up off of the ground.  

_______________________________________________________________________

The moon hovers precariously in the night sky, illuminating the garden directly below it and bathing you in moonlight. You’re only a few hours away from meeting Prince Naoya, and it’s the thought of seeing him face-to-face that keeps you up tonight. What would he look like? Would he know who you are? Would he ask you any questions about Geto? 

Your eyes rest on the reflection of the moon in the fountain, Toji’s old dagger resting in your lap. 

“It ain’t much,” he mumbled when he handed it to you. “But if something happens, whether it’s with the food or the smothering... You’ve got this dagger.” Then he showed you how to murder someone quickly by using a pillow and your dagger, aiming precisely for the open space between his ribcage. “Stab once, pull it out, and run like hell if you want.” 

You inhale deeply, filling your lungs with fresh air. 

“Cold out here,” Toji mumbles, rubbing his arms as he walks out of the house barefoot. “Can’t sleep, y/n?” 

“No,” you admit, then jerk your chin at him. “You?” 

“I don’t get much rest these days,” he replies, sitting beside you at the fountain. “Worried about tomorrow?” You look over at the green-eyed man and blink, your blank expression telling all. “Well, I’m not. You’re going to be fine.” 

“And what will you do when you have to watch me be executed?” you tease, but Toji’s eyes fall to the fountain, eyeing the moon’s reflection. 

“It’ll be sad. But I understand why you have to do what you’re doing.” 

“Toji Fushiguro? Sad?” You laugh, but he gives you a withering look instead of laughing along with you. 

“Listen, I’ve made a lot of off-color remarks, but I meant what I said. You’re a great person, and I would hate to see your life go to waste over some petty vendetta.” His mumbling catches you off guard, but you say nothing in response, opting to look down at the dagger instead. “But, you’re determined to pursue your lover into the afterlife; I get it. You must really be in love with him.”

“I am,” you reply, still not looking at Toji.

“Well, since you’re going to die tomorrow, I might as well be transparent with you,” Toji whispers. “You know, looking after you was a pain in the ass at first.” You frown at him, wondering what kind of comment that is, but he continues anyways. “But you grew on me. Shit, watching you for these months has become enjoyable, more exciting than the idiocy I used to do before. Y/n… I’m--” Toji swallows hard, then raises his eyes to meet yours. “I’m... going to miss you.” Toji leans in slowly, placing a rough hand on your right cheek before kissing the other cheek with a tenderness you always knew he held deep inside. Once he pulls away, he stands, raking his hands through his short hair and sighing before walking back into the house. But you’re left outside, wondering what could’ve been if you weren’t so hell-bent on bringing your dead lover justice. 

_______________________________________________________________________

The sounds of horses, bells, cheering, chants, cacophony… too much noise.

You can hear it all from your position in the kitchen. The village is louder than it’s ever been before, and all the noise provides the perfect background noise to you and your mother’s preparing food for the six of you already living in the house and about thirteen guests- the seven guards, the four servants, a royal advisor, and finally, Prince Naoya. The resulting feast will outshine any feast your mother has cooked before, and you know that the village will speak of the honor bestowed upon your house and the cooking from it for at least a day. 

The next day, they will be lamenting the loss of the eldest son of the Imperial Court, and rejoicing upon your execution. Just like they celebrated Geto’s death. 

Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy, Su, you pray as you peel a leek with precision. Only a few more hours and Naoya would be within your reach. 

First, you’d drug him with a powder Toji had acquired in exchange for… something unmentionable that he wouldn’t divulge. Second, you would help the prince off to his bed as the drug took hold of him and tuck him in. Then, you’d smother him to death. If that didn’t work - “and there’s a chance that it might not”, Toji warned - you would stab him in the heart. Death would reach the Prince’s soul before the morning light. And you would be ready to die the next day, all to meet Geto in whatever world he had passed on to.

An icy hand grips your heart as the hours pass.

The thought of rejoining your lover - feeling his arms around you, touching his hair, looking into his black eyes - is more than enough for you to pretend everything is alright. All you’re doing is making the most of the last few hours you have with your family, Kaori, Toji, and Megumi. The small child is parading about in his newest outfit, displaying his hakama and haori for all to see and coo over. Toji wears a matching outfit, the clouds and animals drifting about his black haori reminding you of a zoo display and of the days you wish you could have. 

You’re wearing your best kimono - the peach one Kaori dressed you in the day you left the camp; Suguru’s mother’s kimono. It’s all too beautiful, really. Everyone is dressed up like royalty, but you’re the only one who came dangerously close to that life and escaped by the grace of a certain General who had your heart. Now, you would murder royalty and die as much of an outcast that Suguru was. 

After you wash your hands in the fountain, you place the dagger inside your kimono and look at yourself in the mirror for the last time. Color had returned to your cheeks over the past few days, and a certain look in your eye had become commonplace. You had something to live for, and these days would remain in your memory as the best days you’ve had since Geto died. 

“They’re coming up the path,” Kaori hisses as she walks past you, ushering Megumi and Toji to the door behind your mother and father. “Come on.” You follow them obediently, standing behind your father and mother as the procession winds its way down the road. While soldiers, musicians, villagers, everyone is parading in front of the carriage carrying the murderer of your lover, you look to the ground and clench your fists. Your resolve steels itself in your spine as you hear the procession get even closer, the clanging making your jaw tighten and your knees tremble. Too much noise, too much noise, too much noise for a man who slaughtered innocents.

The music dies down when the carriage comes to a halt, but the sound of children excitedly squealing nearby. You keep your eyes downcast, not daring to look the spiteful man in the face or attract attention to yourself. The echo of children’s excited chatter stabs you in the heart even deeper - how could children be excited by this killer? - and you try to block out the memories of Itadori, Junpei, and Nobara, but to no avail. 

You’re trying so hard that tears are streaming down your face, and mucus gathers in your nose as you begin to cry quietly. Megumi reaches up to grab your hand tenderly, holding it in his five little fingers as you hear the door to the carriage swing open slowly. You avoid looking, and sniff so hard you almost miss the first words out of a certain blue-eyed bastard’s mouth: 

“Whoa; watch your step, Yuji! You don’t want to fall in front of Lady y/n, do you?”

_______________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @kamisamaundercover​ @jotazinha​ @just4readingfics​ @mxhi​ @sammytamaki​ @brownskinnedgirll​ @keelyshayee​ @leanne-tamashi​ @vabybizzle​ @amaris9​ @fuegy-fuegy​ @ambiguous-something​ 

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Experiment 05SB

Alternatively titled “I’m sorry 2B don’t hate me please”

I hath given in to the M4dc0m brain rot at the cost of me now having written a 7k+ word fic because I’m not confident enough in my art skills to draw it at the moment. Here we go!

Oh, there’s also implied fatal in this (it’s of unnamed characters, plus this is M4dc0m, but I’ve gotta say it. I guess you could take it as reformation if you really wanted to.). Mentions of blood I guess?

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Ey 2b? You there?” Deimos’s voice crackled to life through the plastic earpiece currently jammed into his left ear, yanking the hacker and unofficial ‘team medic’ as he was called once (much to his own confusion. Sure, he knew basic medical but by no means was he any sort of doctor) back into reality. A brief moment passed in the silence of his room, more often called ‘the lab’, of their base before everything came crashing back at once. Deimos, Sanford, and Hank were out raiding a A.A.H.W warehouse at his instruction. Meaning he was alone in their base, also known as a breaking down appartement they had taken shelter in. It had electricity and provided shelter from the harsh hell scape that had once been the state of Nevada. A dark red sunless sky overhead, vegetation and any ecosystems completely wiped out from what they’d seen, bandits and zeds equally ready to eat the nearest person if it meant living another day, the Agency hunting you down if they thought you’d possibly be working against them or with the infamous Hank J. Wimbleton, and having little to no essential resources for days at a time to top it all off like some twisted cherry on this sick cake. Home sweet fucking home.

“Doc? Helllloooo?” Shit, right. Deimos.

“Sorry, I’m here. What is it Deimos?”

“And the medic lives!” The small cheer was accompanied by laughter from the smallest member of the team. Jebus, how was he able to joke in even the most dire situations?

“Just get to the point, chucklehead.” 2b could hear Sanford add in over the static, the man’s laughter just barely making it to tired ears.

“Right right, sorry man. Anyway, if we wanted to get food on the way back would you say no?” Pardon? There was no way he was hearing that right. There were several reasons why he couldn’t be hearing that right. A. food wasn’t by any means the easiest thing to come by in this hellhole, B. restaurants weren’t really a common thing anymore so those were out of the picture, and C. there’s no way they could p- actually, scratch that last one. Robbing a corpse wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that those three had done. Not by a long shot. Still though, how was he supposed to respond to that request?

“…what?” Apparently by asking the first word on his mind.

“We saw that one hotdog vendor on the way here and we’re all starving. Can we or can we not get hotdogs on the way back?” Oh. That’s what Deimos ment. How on earth had that hotdog vendor not been killed yet?

“Is this a genuine ‘we’ or is it a ‘me’, Deimos?” That seemed like a more fair and answerable question.

“Hey I-!”

“It’s a genuine ‘we’ Doc,” Sanford’s voice chimed in. By the cursing in the background 2b could imagine that he had flipped up Deimos’s mic to temporarily mute him in the realm of their earpieces. “Pretty sure one of our stomachs gave us away to the last group of agents we had to take out. Not gonna point fingers but I’m pretty sure it was Hank- Ack! I’m just saying!”

“Thought we weren’t pointing fingers.” There was the third voice. Rough from years of fighting yet still all too recognizable as Hank. The same Hank J. Wimbleton on the wanted posters that scattered the walls of almost every nearby building, wanted dead by the Auditor and his whole agency. He must’ve smacked Sanford for his comment. Well at least he didn’t do worse, whether on purpose or accident.

“We aren’t. Now Cmon Doc, you never answered my question.” Hearing the other hacker’s voice ask for an answer again 2b sighed. Always eager, wasn’t he? How the man had seemingly endless energy on missions would forever remain a mystery to him, Jebus be damned.

“I don’t really care what you do on the way back so long as you all come back in one piece and with the stuff I sent you there for. Understood?”

“Aye aye, Captain Doc! Over and out!” And there they went. The earpiece went dead, leaving 2b on his own once again once he flicked up his own mic. Back to silence. Sweet sweet silence. It wasn’t often they got that in their shared apartment of a base. Someone was always awake, someone was always saying something. It was never really quiet unless you were lucky enough to be the only one awake. 2BDamned had seen plenty of those rare times, if only because he overworked himself and didn’t sleep. So maybe it was one of his less than desirable qualities, when living in a hellscape being ten steps ahead of the agency trying to kill you is always good. He had to keep that up, on top of keeping the others alive and well.

And then there was his little experiment. That also was taking a toll on how little he slept. Not all that long ago the trio had returned from a mission with the data he had requested and more. Specifically a duffel bag full of seemingly shrunken grunts and two only slightly bigger shrunken MAGs. Pft, how funny it was to say that. A shrunken MAG. Hell, he wouldn’t believe it if you told him with no proof. The idea seemed insane. Oh but it wasn't. Not by a long shot if the cages sitting on one of his tables said anything. Normally he’d call such a thing like keeping people in cages inhumane, not that there were many humane things in this hellhole to begin with. He’d expect keeping them in cages that probably used to be for pets to be a move pulled by the Agency, not himself, however he had to make do with what they could find and had access to. Also known as: not much at all. He wanted to study them after all. Letting them free was just not an option.

Now that probably sounds bad, studying living beings like himself, but one couldn’t blame 2b when you considered his situation (at least he hopes one couldn’t). Somehow the Agency found a way to shrink living beings. That’s power that could be used against him and the others to make everything turn for the worst, something which he wanted to avoid at all costs. However, if one of his teammates or himself were to be shrunken on a mission it would be possibly lifesaving to know how to reverse the effects. Plus, having the power to shrink enemies on their side could certainly prove useful. All that being said, he needed these few alive in order to try and figure out what caused them to be how they were. Hence the repurposed, beat up pet cages. Two of them to be exact. One held the grunts and the other for the two MAG agents. None of them had killed each other yet, so that was nice. A few simple experiments and a dissection of a grunt that had been dead upon arrival to him proved that they still functioned as they would if they were their normal size. Just on a smaller scale. He had sent Hank, Deimos, and Sanford out for supplies today, yes, though if they found any information regarding the shrinking of their little ‘guests’ then they were to bring it to him. With no information on that though, he had to continue his other work. Tired eyes met the screen through red goggles. Moments later his head found itself cushioned in the crook of one of his arms.

“What the hell.” 2b grumbled, a fresh headache slowly starting to pound against the inside of his skull. What the hell was up with him? He should be fine. This was only his second day without proper ‘longer-then-15-minutes’ sleep. He’d gone longer before, he should be able to function. Why was the screen giving him such a headache now of all times? He needed to get stuff done. He needed to finish up this…this……what was he working on again? Hold on, no, he should remember. This shouldn’t be slipping his mind like it is. Maybe if he just thought back a few minutes. It would come back to him, right?

“Ok right before Deimos called, what was I doing?” 2b thought out loud to himself, trying his hardest to recall what had happened prior to the call from his allies. ”I was sitting here…then Deimos called in. Wait, no. Go back. From the top. Since…however long ago I’ve been sitting here, working on…what was I working on before Deimos asked about getting food? I sent them on the raid, didn’t eat, got to work and- no. That’s not it. Why can’t I just-“

Gggnnnnnnrrrr…

Oh well fuck him. That’s why he couldn’t focus. 2b groaned, not bothering to hide the noise as of now. He was alone, no one would hear him or tease him. Unless you would count the shrunken men in the cages, however it wasn’t likely they’d say anything. When you’re the size of a rat, spare the MAGs who were more rabbit sized, to your captor pissing them off seemed like the worst thing one could do. Clearly the hacker wasn’t at all in the mood to deal with teasing, so their mouths remained shut. That left 2b alone to deal with his complaining stomach, a feat which proved easier said than done when one was going off a day and a half without properly sleeping. He couldn’t even remember the last time he ate something. It was all just fuzzing together at this point.

Pushing himself off his desk 2b flopped back into the worn chair he’d been sitting in for God knows how long. Relaxing into the backrest was certainly more comfortable than being hunched over a laptop screen typing away like he had been for the past day or two. A hand fell to rest over his stomach while the other removed his goggles. Those were not helping the blooming headache. A low growl from his stomach drew a small hiss through his teeth, the sound being accompanied by a familiar empty cramping.

“Oh you can shut up.” He grumbled at the organ half heartedly, “It’s not like I can eat anything right now. There’s a reason I sent Hank and the others out.” His stomach growled back, the empty sound ringing in the hacker’s ears. He needed to eat, that was undeniable. The problem was getting something to eat. He had few options, none of which he particularly liked. Option 1. going out to look for something even slightly edible on his own, option 2. wait and hope the others found and brought back food, or option 3. contact the others through his headset and ask them to get him something on the way back. The first option was clearly undesirable on its own and the other two weren’t much better. Sure, asking them to grab something for him would probably be easiest and most logical, however he was almost certain that they didn’t want to hear that out of the blue in the middle of a fight. That and he didn’t want to deal with any teasing that might come along with asking. He wasn’t about to take that chance when he had things to do. He couldn’t remember those things at the moment, sure, but they were still things he had to do! So asking was not an available option at the moment. That left waiting and hoping for the best.

Rrrrrrrnnngggggg….

“I know. I don’t like the idea either.” 2b sighed as he spun around in his chair, gently patting his stomach. He needed to get out of his chair, even if it was just a walk around his room. He needed something after a day and a half straight of sitting there hunched over staring at a screen. Maybe it’d help with the headache if he was lucky. Probably wouldn’t but hey a man could dream. With a small grunt of effort the hacker found himself on his feet, his balance wobbling and legs feeling like brittle pasta beneath him. Ah, that's what I wanted to do earlier. Go figure taking breaks gets ignored by my brain. “However, I do believe it’ll end with the best result. I’m sure they’ll be home soon anyway.”

They wouldn’t. That was a lie, to himself and to his stomach alike. He likely had a few more hours alone, maybe two at least. The A.A.H.W warehouse he’d sent them to was big and if you account for fighting delays and them stopping on the way back then the chance of them being back in the next two hours would be some sort of miracle. By the way his stomach reacted every time he brushed over the thought that the trio was getting food on the way back then he wasn’t going to be looking so hot by the time they arrived back. Oh he was going to get the short end of the stick no matter what he did, wasn’t he? Talk about luck. 2b sighed, running a hand up and through his hair as he walked along one of the walls of his small room. His stomach clearly wasn’t shutting up any time soon so the next best course of action would be to ignore it. Maybe that would help him wait it out. What could he focus on? There was work, he could clean up a little bit maybe, or he could focus on the rattling coming from the cages and-

Hold on.

That most certainly wasn’t right. 2b cocked an eyebrow, crossing the room to where the three cages were placed. Quite the interesting scene was playing out before him. From what he could see a few of the shrunken grunts were teaming up to try and break out of the cages. This wasn’t their first little escape attempt, no, but it interested him enough as he stood there watching and attempting to grab his tablet at the same time. Eventually he had succeeded, opening up a new document to scribble down a few notes.

Title: Log 073SB

Time: 6:34 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: Grunts working together to attempt escape. MAG agent seems to be attempting to cause a distraction by rattling the wall of the cage. Or perhaps they just want out. Very annoying either way. None seem bothered by my presence.

Satisfied with his little note, 2b closed the tablet and set it down on the counter next to one of the cages. Whether it was him being too rough with setting the tablet down or the low grumble from his stomach that startled the cage of grunts was up for debate, but currently he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Right now he needed to have a chat with the little troublemakers. Without hesitation the unofficial medic reached forward, opening the little hinged door located on top of the cage with ease compared to what the grunts inside were attempting before. He didn’t think twice before he reached in and grabbed the two topmost grunts from the pile of attempted escapees before retracting his hand, repeating the process with his other hand, and finally closing the cage. Hands now full, each holding two fighting bodies, the hacker sighed.

“Escape huh? How many times have you already tried that and it didn’t work?” 2b asked, a less than impressed tone lacing his voice. Sure, he needed a distraction from his stomach but he didn’t want to have to deal with escape attempts left and right for the next however long. “What made you think it’d go any different this time?”

There was a moment of silence before a soft voice spoke up, one that clearly hadn’t been used recently. One of the grunts in his left hand. “W-we figured i-if we actually tried and w-worked together then maybe we’d b-be able to manage a successful…e-escape…”

“Really now? Interesting.” 2b mumbled, looking over the grunt in his hand. They were all so small. You’d think he’d have gotten used to their size by now but every time he held one it seemed to slap him in the face. Offing them if they got too rowdy wouldn’t be hard at all. Wouldn’t need to use anything to begin with. How crazy it was. “Though I’m not sure I can let this slide as I have with previous instances.”

“W-what?” His response seemed to temporarily stun the four in his hands, most likely because of how it was different from his previous comments on their attempted escapes. A shiver passed over them like a wave while the hacker only nodded.

“Your previous attempts at escape. While I can understand why one would try I’ve made it quite clear that successful escapes won’t be happening nor tolerated, correct? I need to prove my point here because you all clearly don’t understand words.” He shifted on his feet slightly, a new question wracking his brain. What could he do to show he wasn’t going to deal with constant escape attempts? It had to be something that stuck, seeing as they clearly didn’t understand his earlier comments about escape not being tolerated. Only a few moments of silence passed before his lips were moving again. “You four are going somewhere else. A stronger holding space. If any of the others try anything they’ll join you. Simple, yet effective.” Or it would be if he knew exactly where he planned to stick these four. What did he have that could serve as a stronger cell for them? The cages were already pretty secure in terms of what he could work with. He just needed something stronger, close to him, hard to escape, and threatening that held a sense of danger with it. But what could that be? His eyes darted around the makeshift lab, trying to find something.

Grrrrroowwwllll…

2b’s eyes slowly scanned down from his shaking captives to his stomach. For a moment he just stared, eyes lacking any readable emotion. Well now that was certainly an option. It fit his criteria. Almost too well. Strong, hard to escape, close to him, and it held a sense of danger. Under his mask his torn and scared lips quirked up into a little smirk. “Mmhm. That’ll do quite nicely, in fact~”

The final moments of peace were shattered as the meaning of his words collided with his captives like a well aimed punch to the gut. Hearts sunk to their feet like rocks in water, despair rearing it’s head in their struggles. Those fortunate enough to remain in the cages simply watched with a muted horror as the four bodies were tossed onto the table and held down with little to no effort. The hacker wasted no time removing the mask and bandages that usually covered his mouth, tossing the fabrics haphazardly beside his discarded tablet. Despite the word fresh being the last thing he’d use to describe the Nevada air, 2b knew he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to just breathe the air in alone and not through the layers of fabric like he often did. With the temporary roadblock now gone his eyes drifted downward to the bodies pinned beneath his hand.

“Well, I believe that eliminates any preventable issues we could encounter here.” He hummed softly, plucking the grunt who was covered by his hand the least up into the air. It certainly was odd to watch the little body squirm and fight against him, all attacks on the two fingers holding it proving futile. Their only hope seemed to be 2b letting them go, something which proved less and less likely the longer they studied the look in the hackers eyes. It wasn’t a look one ever wanted to find themself on the receiving end of. The sight of sharp teeth, glimmering with saliva through grinning lips, certainly did not help to lower the grunt’s heart rate at all. 2b simply clicked his tongue. “Meaning stalling time is up. Stay still, won’t you?”

The grunt did not, in fact, stay still. It was impossible to do so as far as they knew when you had a spit soaked tongue dragging up every inch of your front, sharp daggers of teeth only millimeters from their face. A deafening silence washed over the others, only being broken by a small pleased hum from their normal sized captor.

“Not bad…” the man mumbled, dragging his tongue up the squirming grunt yet again. A small voice in the back of his mind, his voice of reason, yelled out the obvious loud and clear to him plenty of times: this was wrong. It wasn’t right to be doing what he was about to do. This was stooping down to the bandits level, something he never intended to do unless absolutely necessary. He shouldn’t be enjoying the taste of another living being like this. And yet…here he was. Ignoring any logic and reason in his mind to proceed with this. Thank goodness he was alone. 2b didn’t even want to think about what the others might say if they were to see him how he was now. Shaking his head softly he shoved away the thought, opening his jaw as far as the joint and scarred tissue that made up his cheeks would allow. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned with how easily the small body slipped into his mouth.

Despite their best efforts to squirm free of their new confinement, the slippery surroundings of the unofficial doctor’s maw proved to have horrible traction. Saliva dropped onto the unfortunate grunt’s head from above while they desperately tried to crawl out of the dark cavern. Feet scrambled on the soaked surface of their predator’s tongue as the muscle moved and flipped them around as if they were some piece of candy, all while their hands desperately tried to keep as little of them between the axe like teeth. One bite and they were done for, a terrifying thought. Through it all only three sounds were ever heard from those lucky enough to not be in the current grunt’s position. The sickening sounds of soaked struggle, terrified yelps from the grunt stuck within 2b’s jaws, and the occasional hum from the man himself. The torture, as those watching from the cage would describe it, seemed to continue for hours and hours on end.

Glk

Glp~

Until it all stopped with two simple swallows and a collective gasp of horror from those watching. The relaxed posture of the man they all watched failed to help their situation.

“H….huhh…that was..” the uncertified medic breathed, breaking the silence. His free hand lazily felt down his throat, tracing where he could feel the squirming body slip further down by the second. It didn’t take a genius to decipher that the less angry sounding gurgle from the man’s stomach signaled the end of the unfortunate grunt’s descent. With eyes widened just beyond his natural look 2b gently pressed his stomach. How interesting it was, as morbid as it might sound, to feel something squirming around inside the organ. Before he could even stop to consider a better way to word his thoughts, he finished his sentence. Just not in the way the grunts wanted to hear. “…incredibly easy.”

The last thing any of the remaining grunts wanted to see was those eyes scan up slowly before locking on them as if they were some sort of dessert. The clearly out of place smile on the man’s face didn’t help the feeling of impending doom either. If anything it only made it worse as a rough hand plucked another grunt from the selected three that had remained under his hand. Down, beneath his newfound curiosity and odd urge to continue what he was doing, 2b knew he should have been more concerned about how easy this was coming to him. No sane person would take so calmly to swallowing living beings, especially not of his own kind. Yet here he was, smirking as he licked over his scarred lips with cold eyes locked onto the small shaking body like a cat would after spotting a mouse. Looking at their sizes in comparison to one another? The simile was scarily accurate. Through his whole little mental debate the hacker found it all too easy to slip the small body into his mouth, licking it over to draw out as much of that strangely addicting taste before slowly beginning to nudge it back. Just bit by bit until it was far enough.

Glrk

Grk~

“Two down…haahhh…two to go…” the hacker sighed as he traced the lump down his throat. There was a waiting period once more but it didn’t last long before the shiver inducing gurgle signified where the poor soul had ended up. How the man hadn’t gotten sick yet was beyond the understanding of those who witnessed the event and even the man himself. Surely he should feel at least a little nauseous with two rat sized bodies squirming within his stomach. Nausea and fullness were the two sensations he had expected by now and yet neither had shown their face yet. Deep within his mind, from an area he didn’t even know existed until it spoke, a voice urged him to test his limits. 2b had shaken that idea off nearly immediately. As….enticing as that idea was, he still needed a few of the shrunken grunts alive and well to continue his attempts to recreate and reverse however the Agency had shrunken them before. Four however….well that wasn’t the biggest loss in the world if something happened to go wrong. Leaning a little more heavily over the table he grabbed one of the last two grunts, shoving the struggling body into his mouth head first. Quite the sight it was to watch flailing legs be slurped into someone’s mouth like nothing more than wet noodles. Interesting and horrifying.

Glp

Glrk~

Though compared to seeing someone who had been beside you ten minutes ago disappear down your captor’s throat as nothing more than a barely visible lump would top it in the scarring scale. Nothing could compare to that sight. Good god was it terrifying. The reality that escape was impossible was all but cemented into the remaining grunts' brains now, as that had been what had gotten their companions into this situation in the first place. This was happening because their capturer wanted to prove his point that attempted escape would not be tolerated. At this point they were convinced they’d have to have a death wish to attempt escape now. Especially when their conditions weren’t horrible compared to what they could be in, something which hadn’t crossed their minds till now. Now don’t take their words wrong, by no means did they want to stay here. Especially not now. However, if it meant living another day and not ending up as lunch? Staying definitely was the preferable option.

“One to go. Damn.” The hacker's voice snapped all attention back to him. His position had changed, now leaning back on the table as he looked over the struggling form in his hands. The words seemed to flow from his mouth without too much thought needed behind them. They just felt…right. It was a feeling he never expected to experience in such a context that he was now, much less to have it almost piloting him as it felt now, but he was nearly willing to say he welcomed it. He wasn't well acquainted with the idea of eating living beings after all, so the subconscious help to ease the process along wasn’t something he’d push away. Not unless it were to cause an issue that is. However, nothing of the sort had happened yet, meaning he was going to keep letting his actions flow naturally.

Just as he had with the three before this one, 2b wasted little time starting towards his goal. Raising the grunt just above his head the man dangled the flailing body over his open mouth, a sight that he could assume would terrify anyone in the grunt’s position. All went smoothly as he lowered the small body in. That is until the grunt, having seen an opportunity and taken it, grabbed and yanked down his mic. While he tried to react as quickly as possible, he could only pray the microphone had not managed to pick up the gag he’d made after panic and shock had caused him to jolt forward and send the grunt to the back of his throat. He flipped up the mic as fast as he could, trying to determine the best course of action one could take with a squirming body halfway down their throat and a possibility of having just been ratted out to the others by their lunch. He was screwed were they to find out, what with how at least two of the three always seemed to be looking for teasing ammunition. That and this….well this wasn’t exactly normal, you know.

“Doc? Is everything ok over there?” Fuck. That wasn’t good. Ignoring the sinking feeling of dread in his chest the best he could, 2b took a deep breath and forced the fourth grunt down with a swallow that took a little more effort then he felt it should’ve. Flipping down the mic, he answered.

“Damnit- yes. I'm fine, Sanford. Don’t worry.” The sentence had to be his least convincing lie yet. Between his heavy breathing and dryness in his throat he could tell his voice wasn’t helping him in any way. Now he didn’t take his teammates for idiots, despite how it sure seemed like they were sometimes, but in the moment he found himself wishing they were.

“You sure? You don’t sound all that fine. Did something happen back at base?” The worry beginning to lace the man’s voice through the static filled earpiece only served to worsen the feeling of dread in 2b’s chest. He needed to get Sanford, and the others who were no doubt listening, off the idea something had happened. He needed to deal with the whole I-just-swallowed-four-people-alive thing before they came back, so them returning early was not in the plan.

“No, nothing happened.” He shot back, only realizing the speed in his voice wasn’t too reassuring after he said it. Ok, what was a believable excuse for why he sounded like he did? “I just…spilt coffee on my legs after burning my mouth. Must’ve knocked the mic down in the process.” With a hand to his chest the hacker forced a soft swallow, trying to at least get rid of the uncomfortable dryness that had settled in the back of his throat. Please say they believed that.

“Pft, really? Damn, wish I could’ve seen that. Think you looked like one of those old cartoons, Doc?” Phew, crisis averted.

“Real funny, Deimos. Get back to your mission.” 2b shook his head at the comment. At least they seemed to believe him. It was worth it, even if the mental image of those over exaggerated cartoon characters was now going to show up whenever he even slightly burnt his mouth on coffee. Oh well, some sacrifices must be made.

“Alright alright. We’re going.” The man on the other end laughed. Those idiots. Damn his heart caring for them, now he was attached. “See you when we get back. Over and out, Doc!” And there they went.

Fighting off his own soft laughter, 2b flipped up his mic. A soft sigh escaped him before he could even think to stop it. That could’ve been horrible. While one hand softly rubbed at his neck, sore from what he had to guess was the miniature disaster that just took place, the other gently laid itself over his stomach. The four inside never seemed to stop moving, constantly squirming and slipping about. There were a handful of reasons he could assume was the cause, though the most likely was that being shoved into a soaking wet moving sack with three of your colleagues provided little traction or ability to get comfortable. That and panic. Panic was probably a rather big factor in how they were feeling. 2b, on the other hand, had to be feeling the exact opposite of how they were. The warm weight of his four ‘victims’ was a welcome sensation within the previously empty pit of his stomach. As twisted as he knew it sounded, he would’ve been confident saying that what he was feeling was honestly satisfactory. Why having living beings stretch and actually round out his stomach in a barely noticeable way was causing this feeling was a mystery to him, but at the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not when it felt this nice.

“I hope I’ve made my point clear.” The unofficial medic hummed, looking over to the grunt filled cage. They had backed away from him by now, huddled in the back most corner of their confines. The sight drew a genuine laugh from the man they all seemed to fear ten times more than before. Well that was proof if he’d ever seen it. Looks like their escape wasn’t something he had to worry about any more. So maybe he sacrificed a little of his ‘I’m not going to hurt you’ act for this. It was worth it in his eyes. And besides, he was probably the most gentle with them out of his whole little gang. If they wanted to be left with one of the others then go ahead. Although being left with the mercenary who you were created to kill didn’t sound like the most fun time to him. Smirking, he collected his goggles, mask, and tablet from the table. “It seems I have. Glad we could have this little -hic!- chat. Heh.”

He gave the cage a pat, the rattling of the metal only serving to scare the grunts further back in the ball of bodies they’d curled into, before turning to walk back to his desk. He needed to sit down. Standing apparently became a lot harder when you had four people fighting against your insides. Thinking back, he didn’t know what he would have expected. Did he stumble a little bit trying to get back to his desk? Yes, he did. It was like he forgot how to walk in all honesty. Another reason he was glad he was alone in their base. Like most things though it proved worth it when he finally collapsed into the worn chair he used for work. Without thinking twice he opened his tablet and started a new log.

—————————

“Doc! We’re back!” The call rang out through the appartement, followed by three sets of footsteps marching their way in and the door slamming shut perhaps a little stronger than needed. As the hinges of the door stopped rattling the three expected to hear a displeased groan, followed by the ruffled form of 2b appearing in the hallway to scold them for being so aggressive or something like tracking blood into the base. Honestly, why he still bothered was a mystery to them, at least Sanford and Deimos for they had zero clue what went on in Hank’s head, for the most part. They were mercenaries, fighters, people looking to not end up with their brains splattered on the wall or something worse. They were going to be bloody upon returning, even if that blood wasn’t their own. It wasn’t like their floors were carpet or anything either. In the end though they never bothered to fight the scoldings. No use making the unofficial medic mad, especially if they needed help. The lack of disgruntled medic in the hallway or at least yelling when silence returned to the room was worrying. After a minute or two with nothing spoken and no ruffled hacker to be seen, Deimos tried again to call him.

“2b?” He called out, peering down the hallway which led to their rooms. There wasn’t any blood on the walls, a good sign to start, and no bullet holes that weren’t there before. Unless the Agency suddenly learned how to do stealth missions, something he and he knew the other two were hoping wasn’t the case, he had hopes. Again, no response from the man. Gun still in his hand he took one glance back to the others, a silent ‘follow me’, before continuing down the hallway. Although Deimos had made it to the closed door first he’d been pushed past by the red goggle wearing giant as he reached for the doorknob. Hank had been the one to open the door to 2b’s room. He’d also been the first of the trio to feel the tension in his shoulders drop. It wasn’t long after he had relaxed that he was shoved into the room by two bodies trying to get in and see any damage that could’ve been done while they were gone. The sight of 2BDamned softly snoring away in his chair, nothing in the room seeming out of place, was most certainly a welcome one.

“Ah. So that’s why he isn’t barking us up a tree for your entrance, Dei.” Sanford hummed with a laugh, careful to watch his volume. If there was one thing he didn’t want to deal with after their mission it was a cranky Doc who got woken up by them. It wasn’t a secret he didn’t necessarily sleep after all and there was no way he could survive off coffee like he seemed to silently claim he could sometimes. They all had times when their sleep schedules were fucked.

“Oh shut up, ‘Ford.” Deimos shot back with a playful punch to the man’s bicep. “It’s not like I’m the one who slammed the door. That’s what he would’ve been on our asses about.”

“You slammed it open then yelled loud enough for all of Nevada to hear you. Don’t act like you’re innocent!”

As the two’s words morphed into friendly bickering Hank took it upon himself to deliver the bit of what they got that couldn’t stay in the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at the moment. Buried in the pocket of his jacket was a small object. Something he hadn’t expected to find, but had snagged nonetheless when it had been pointed out by Deimos. For a second as he walked over to the man a rough hand dug around fabric, fingers gripping plastic as he arrived at his destination. Without thinking he tossed the USB onto the hacker’s desk, eyes wandering over small things like the empty coffee mug or discarded goggles. Behind red-tinted goggles they landed on the man’s tablet, the screen now illuminated thanks to what he could assume had been the small drive hitting the desk. Prying wasn’t something he often did when it came to his teammates, respecting their privacy as they often did his, but after a certain word caught his eye he couldn’t help but read the log that had popped up.

Title: Experiment 05SB

Time: 7:42 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: I…cannot believe I’m about to write this. This is update one of Experiment 05SB, an experiment started without much if any bit of a proper plan behind it. Phase I, I suppose you could call it, was a success. The shrunken grunts are, in fact, small enough to swallow whole and…alive. MAGs have not yet been confirmed to be the same way, though I’m sure that answer will show itself one day. I am unsure why I am able to keep four of them down without feeling nauseated, but I can. I will update at a later time when more information has presented itself.

The log ended there, eyes falling away from the screen as Hank’s mind worked to process the information it had just been given. According to what had been written before the man had fallen victim to sleep, it was not only possible to swallow the shrunken beings sitting in one of the cages behind him, but the unofficial doctor had done it himself. Four times to be exact. Curiosity grabbed control of his eyes, slowly panning them up to the cage of grunts who looked noticeably more terrified than they usually did. Had they seen the whole thing go down? His mind continued to wander, finding new questions like how on earth the hacker had managed to keep living and no doubt moving beings down like the log said he did. That is unless he’d spit them up before falling asleep. However that seemed highly unlikely-

“Snooping around Doc’s stuff, are we Hank~?” When Deimos had appeared behind him was beyond the mercenary, though the shock of hearing his voice out of the blue was enough to startle him into quickly powering off 2b’s tablet and whipping around to face the two that now stood across with him with far too smug looks on their faces for his liking.

“Woah there, big guy! We didn’t mean any trouble.” Sanford cooed, the fucking Chad cooed, holding his hands up as if he was under some sort of arrest. “Just wanted to know what you were reading over here is all~.”

“Yeah, exactly. I never expected to find you clicking through Doc’s diary.” Deimos added on nearly flawlessly. Sometimes he really hated how well they worked together. Namely when it was against him. “So, was it a love confession~?”

Hank sighed, glaring at the two through his goggles. He sure fucking hoped they could see the look on his face, despite most of it being covered by bandages and his mask. Because he was not amused and he wanted them to know it.

“No, not a love confession, you morons.” He groaned, shaking his head. Telling them straight off what it said would probably be horrible. At the moment he was still having a few difficulties understanding parts of what he read. Lying just seemed like the best choice overall. It wasn’t like he’d be the only one doing so, after all. It sure seemed like 2b did to them over the mic. Speaking of the man, Hank turned around to take a good look at him. At first glance he seemed like he normally did when he passed out in his chair from overworking himself like this. It was only when Hank took an extra second to look and let the information in his brain guide him did he see the slightly out of place softness around the sleeping hacker’s stomach. Unable to help himself Hank felt his ruined remaining lip quirk up into a small smirk under his mask as he turned around to shove the Dumbass Duo out of the room so 2b could sleep.

“Bunch’a nonsense, is all. Now move. I don’t wanna deal with him if you idiots wake him up and we still have shit to put away.”