#it took so long to get the line art to a point you could tell it was him

[wtfforged]

my campaign hiatus has gone on for too long so to cope ive combined my interests at their maximum potency and had some dnd-strawhats thoughts

thoughts in depth under read more... :)!

this is SO self indulgent. their designs literally did not change. but i am a firm believer that dnd doesnt have to be european high fantasy. and also one piece literally IS fantasy. no changes are necessary to fit into dnd. ive already imagined plenty of campaign/oneshot ideas inspired by one piece. so this was basically just an exercise of trying to replicate their canon abilities in dnd 5e as much as possible without totally homebrewing everything. well. aside from luffy. you just cant take away or change his stretching.

LUFFY: (human monk. drunken master subclass. outlander)

the only plain human of the crew to balance out with the fact that he still has rubber powers. obviously a monk. but drunken master subclass specifically because i think the flavor(not the fact that its about being a drunkard) and abilities both fit him really well. this line in the subclass' flavortext especially fits him: "A drunken master often enjoys playing the fool to bring gladness to the despondent or to demonstrate humility to the arrogant, but when battle is joined, the drunken master can be a maddening, masterful foe."

ZORO: (tiefling fighter. samurai subclass. bounty hunter)

a fighter with the samurai subclass is so very incredibly obvious... but i actually had a lot of fun geeking out while comparing the abilities to what he can do in canon; Fighting Spirit, Rapid Strike, and Strength Before Death especially! tiefling is also pretty on the nose for his demon pirate hunter shtick and asura form, but i thought he'd be really human-passing for a tiefling and theorized about his tail getting cut off at some point or another before joining the strawhats. initially wasnt gonna give him a feat, but i gave sanji a feat so i thought itd be unfair to not give him one as well, so sentinel fits the bill pretty well i think!

NAMI: (tabaxi rogue. arcane trickster subclass. criminal)

cat burglar -> full grown literal humanoid cat. this one is INCREDIBLY self indulgent... i love... cats... theres nothing deeper to this and no other reasoning. i took cat burglar and ran with it. can you tell that i love izutsumi dungeon meshi? rogue for the aforementioned burglar-ing as well, and the arcane trickster subclass for when she picks up climatact! the mage hand will be very useful for her pickpocketing. in the future as she levels up with timeskip, i can totally see her multiclassing into wizard as well! weather wizard!

USOPP: (lightfoot halfling artificer. artillerist subclass. urchin)

I HAD SO MUCH FUN THINKING ABOUT HIS CHARACTER SHEET. halfling's Naturally Stealthy ability lets him hide behind his crewmates since theyre (almost) all bigger than him, so its perfect for hiding behind zoro or sanji all the time. Lucky is also perfect for him, and I think Brave fits pretty well too when he puts on the sogeking mask. artillerist artificer is also very fun! tinkering and making magic items for his crew, and i think Eldritch Canon or Arcane Firearm could both be easily reflavored as kabuto or any of his inventions. for emphasizing his sniper-ness, the spell sniper feat was also necessary. i think hes my favorite of all the concepts. big ears and long nose combo is so cute to me.

SANJI: (half-elf monk. drunken master subclass. guild artisan (cook!))

race was mostly based on vibes i wont lie. squints. and that vinsmoke balogna or whatever too ig. but mostly vibes. along with the idea that i think a dwarf zeff raising him would be really funny and cute. monk is also obvious, and same subclass as luffy for mostly the same reasons. though the flavor fits him much less, i think the abilities still fit him perfectly, and this blurb specifically; "Your martial arts technique mixes combat training with the precision of a dancer." i really wanted to give him a different subclass from luffy, but i dislike all the other monk subclasses a lot and i found none of them fit him as well anyways, so to try and give them SOME differences, i gave him the crusher feat.

CHOPPER: (awakened deer(shifter statblock) cleric. life subclass. hermit)

this ones definitely a mouthful im sorry. awakened deer for obvious reasons, but due to magic instead of devil fruit stuff. when i was struggling with his race, i looked a lot at shifter because of his forms, but it occurred to me that itd be super cool if he could shift between all of the different shifter options instead of being stuck with just one to replicate his rumble balls. something like heavy point/guard point=beasthide, horn point/arm point(?maybe?)=longtooth, walk point/jumping point=swiftstride, and brain point=wildhunt. hed definitely need some kind of nerf though to balance out that homebrew... and cleric for class. duh.

ROBIN: (high elf wizard. order of scribes subclass. criminal)

robin is definitely the one i struggled the most with just because of her class. elf came pretty easily- shes very elegant and i think shed look cute with super long ears- and i landed on high elf instead of wood elf for the int-based abilities. i was really on the fence between sorcerer and wizard for her because i knew shed be a full spellcaster, but i didnt feel that any of the subclasses really fit her. i ended up going with wizard for order of the scribes since it focuses on texts and knowing everything. but also because robin with a flying talking sentient book would be crazy cool. it could also be similar to how she spawns mouths and eyes places to talk to or watch people. my "fuck it, why not. this would be rad. its my house" mindset kicked in with her i will admit. also the One with the Word ability made me cackle out loud when i read it. thats the funniest ability ever. anyways, i cant really think of a way to replicate her powers, but maybe we could just reflavor a bunch of spells to be her limbs or clutch; hold person, maximillian's earthen grasp, or evard's black tentacles. thatd probably work okay, and theres a handful of spells to replicate her ability to spawn eyes or mouths. unrelated, but i imagine nico olvia to be a drow. why? her hair is white. i am a simple man!

[sanspuppet]

👀 riding Mingi’s abs…..just saw a that photo shoot whit him in all denim, like the shirt is a denim crop and and bestie 😮‍💨😮‍💨 that would be the best funishment

MDNI ! smut

- W/T: sexual tension, abs riding, choking, fingering, squirting, sliiight degradation

—

You couldn’t fucking take no more. You wanted to enjoy your date with your boyfriend that day, but you had no idea he would wear a denim crop, that did nothing but accentuate his waist, so tiny and sexy, not to mention how his abs were exposed. Mingi couldn’t have not noticed that you didn’t even looked up at him when he talked to you, your eyes seemed glued to his waist, yet he was somehow enjoying your drooling reaction. It was a long evening of you getting distracted by his hips that you needed so bad beneath you. On the other hand Mingi did nothing but secretly smirking back at you, feeling your eyes constantly down his lower body. But at the end he proposed you to spend the rest of the evening by his house, god only knows what were his purposes… well somehow you could figure them out too, and by your situation in that moment you hoped with all your heart that you weren’t wrong. In fact, you wanted to fuck him so bad, so bad that you were feeling icky about how fucking wet you were, you just wanted to take care of it by using him, or vice versa, you literally didn’t fucking care about the details. Mingi noticed it, he knew every time when you got needy but damn… you literally looked like a bitch in heat from how you were clinging to him and how you stared at him, your entire behavior screamed that you wanted to be bred badly.

When he first stepped into his house he turned around to face you, holding you by your waist as he pulled you over the living room. Mingi looked down at your short figure compared to his tall one, a smirk forming on his lips. “Will you tell me what got your attention that much, pretty?” his nose brushed yours, ready to lock you in a long kiss. You wanted him now, there was no point in teasing each other any longer, you wrapped your hand behind his neck and pulled him closer, your tongues diving into your mouths while he busied himself with unbuttoning your shirt, his movements were messy, too eager to be done properly. You did the same thing with his denim crop, throwing it somewhere on the floor. You pulled away from your sloppy kiss and placed your palm on his naked chest, his heartbeat was faster than ever. You pushed him, making him fall down on the couch, he looked up at you with hooded eyes. His tongue trailed a wet line over his lips. You both stripped down completely, never breaking eye contact.

He patted his lap, moving you to sit on him. You glanced at his huge cock twitching at his movement. You sat down on his abdomen, his erected crotch pressing against your back sent shivers of arousal down your spine. “Ride my abs baby, i’m sure you’d want to” He took your chin in his fingers, forcing you to look at him. “Say it, am i right?” You automatically started rubbing yourself against his toned pelvis, his hand quickly gripped on your waist. “Fuckin say it before doing it, little slut” You sighed frustratingly. “Fuck— please Mingi i wanna ride your abs” He pinched your cheek, his cocky behavior showing. “That’s my good girl, you can go on now.” You let out the most feral sighs and loud moans once you started moving, forwards and backwards. You felt every little hill of his abs stimulating your clit, it was impressively good, a fucking bliss. You just needed more friction but your mind was already in a blank state, you threw your head back as you moved faster, your nails dig deep into Mingi’s shoulders. He was admiring you, every single detail of you, he noticed it, and loved it. Jeez if you were such a piece of art to him in that moment. “Don’t worry princess, i’ll help you” he said when he noticed you struggling to get to the highest. He quickly wrapped a hand around your throat, gripping tightly enough, the other one moved down your core, fingering you with all of his fingertips at a fast pace. He raised your head when you kept looking down at you wet cunt. “Eyes on me pretty, you know i want you to look at me whenever you cum. Feels good huh? You such a slut, getting off to my abs”

It was then that you loosed your fucking mind, you were fucked out, your mascara was smudged all over your eyelids by your teary eyes. You whined and moaned without even realizing it. Your lips were of a cherry pink from how hard you bit on them. Your hair a complete mess. And it also was when you finally got off of your high that you noticed you squirted all over his chest. Mingi was looking at all your figure with a proud smirk, his finger caressed gently your back.

“You’re the prettiest like this”

taglist: @bunnyluvr25 @xonga @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @therealcuppicake @hongjoongswifefr @sugarnspice630 @stolasisyourparent @kaimisutra @jyunhosbby @pancake-freckle @cherrycel

[rookiesbookies]

Konig and His Loser

Sex Doll AU, here's the one that won my poll. sorry he took so long- big thank you to @shotmrmiller for helping me edit and get it to perfection ❤️

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, check out my AU list for more like this. Don’t forget to leave me a comment (i always try to respond) or a request in my inbox (i also try to respond to these when I can), a reblog, or even just a like to let me know what yall want to see!

Konig seemed pretty similar to the other stories but she had found him in a magazine. A simple magazine ad, but she just called it in, why not right?

Well, she hadn’t read the size well and was lucky that they had to call a moving company to get him in from the warehouse. 

She couldn't believe her luck as she watched the movers gingerly maneuver the box that held Konig through the narrow hallway of her apartment building. 

As they finally managed to get Konig into her living room, just from the outside of his box she could tell he was huge.

After fighting open the box once the movers had left, she stood back in awe, taking in every intricately carved detail of his frame. His features were striking yet delicate, a perfect balance of strength and vulnerability that seemed to draw her in deeper with each passing moment.

Once freed she saw that he was a masterpiece in person, not done justice by the pages of that damned ad, a work of art that had seemingly materialized from her dreams onto the glossy pages of the magazine ad. 

Especially his scars. The big ugly ones that littered his face. He looked like whatever mask he had come with had caught on fire at some point. She had a hard time telling if it was by design or not.

She spent hours just sitting in front of him, tracing the lines and curves of his form with her fingertips, feeling his skin and texture. He felt so close to human. It was as if he held a piece of her soul within him, a connection that transcended time and space.

Over the days that followed, she found herself drawn to Konig more and more, losing herself in the depths of his enigmatic presence. She tried hard to figure out how to 'activate' him as he did turn on in the instruction manual. They manual made it clear there seemed to be one, but as she fiddled with his clothes and appercence to try to turn her new toy on.

She truly did her best but she had been watching some movies from her childhood on reruns when the idea of 'true love's kiss' jumped into her mind.

She felt him breathe against her after she planted it softly on his lip. His hands moved to her hips and pulled her closer and over his lap. He held her close, his touch familiar and comforting, but maybe that was just her delusion. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers as they embraced in the dimly lit room. 

The soft patter of rain on the windows created a soothing background melody to their not so silent dance. She nestled into his arms, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Time seemed to stand still as they lingered in that moment of intimacy, savoring the connection that bound them together. 

Despite the mask that concealed his identity, she knew him intimately and cherished the bond they shared beyond words or appearances in some deep, almost spiritual way. And so they remained entwined, two souls intertwined in a delicate balance of love and uncertainty, lost in the beauty of their silent embrace.

He stayed quiet, almost scary quiet and they kissed over his mask. Feeling eachother’s lips through the fabric of an old t-shirt.

His hands moved lower, tracing the curves of her body as he rid her of her pajama pants. She gasped at the touch, her skin tingling with desire. His fingers were gentle yet firm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, his tough fingers from working on the field roaming her.

She couldn't help but feel self-conscious as his eyes roamed over her exposed body. He didn't seem to mind. In fact, his touch was filled with such tenderness and adoration that it made her heart swell with emotion.

He kissed her again, keeping the thin barrier of his mask, his lips demanding and insistent. She responded eagerly, losing herself in the passion that consumed them both. For a moment, she forgot about everything else - the world outside their room, their past lives and all their struggles. All that mattered was this moment and the overwhelming sense of love they shared. His hulking figure even more imposing with all his gear on.

His hand traveled lower, teasing between her legs until she moaned against his lips. He continued to explore every inch of her body until she was trembling with desire.

He lifted her onto her couch. He scooted up and put her legs over his shoulders and just went to town after draping his mask over her lower lips. It was like he was starved, leaving her gasping. He was messy, her slick coating his face before he lifted himself and leaned her back. He whispered some coaxing things in a language she didn't understand, she assumed they were coaxing at least.

With hesitation, he guided his delicious uncut cock inside of her, it barely escaped his heavy military pants, and she gasped at the sensation. It wasn’t similar to anything she or he had ever experienced before - a perfect pleasure that sent shivers down her spine. He was so big, long, a girthy that she couldn't believe it. She was so on Cloud 9 that she felt like she couldn't breathe. It was like his dick was up in her throat stopping any words from leaving her. His tip hit her cervix and his breathing got heavy with hers as he tore off his helmet with one hand and went back to kissing her, draping his mask over the lower half of her face. Her eyes were rolling around her skull, she was high on the way he rubbing on her insides. The feeling was a certain type of suffocatingly delicious moment as their breaths mixed under his mask.

As they moved together in some perfect harmony, it felt like they were two pieces finally coming together to complete each other's puzzle. She was lost in his embrace, finding solace and comfort in their shared intimacy.

When they finally reached their climax, it felt like fireworks exploding in every corner of the room. He collapsed as gently as he could onto his forearms to keep from falling on her, breathing heavily as they basked in the aftermath of their love.

For a while, they lay there in silence, feeling content and fulfilled in each other's presence. As the rain continued to pour outside, they remained wrapped up in each other- two imperfect beings finding perfection in their love for one another.

All she could think about was, from how he panted like a dog, maybe he was a loser too.

[theoutcastrogue]

[From a 2014 article by John Darnielle of the Mountain Goats. He's talking about how a random spam email ended up inspiring a part of his book Wolf in White Van. Later, in 2020, the album Getting Into Knives came out, and I think it inspired its artwork too.]

"It took years for me to be able to just reflexively delete spam, or filter it so that I never see it at all. I blame the spammers for this; the quality of their work took a sharp nosedive at some point. But during whatever period of the internet’s growth you’d call the early 2000s, it seemed like you’d still get some winners: things that had been typed up by a person, sent out to a bunch of email addresses they’d bought or rented for 5 or 10 bucks from the only guy who was ever going to make any money in this particular exchange. Most of them went directly, if manually, into the trash; but once in a while, there’d be one that seemed to earn, at the very least, the minute it’d take me to read it.

The one I’m remembering here was subject-lined SUPPLY OF KNIVES. [...] The subject line opened on an all-caps email that boasted, in ornate, antiquated English appealing to the reader’s more refined sensibilities, about the high quality of the knives on offer at an external website. You shouldn’t click on links in spam email. I live my life on the razor’s edge! I clicked the link.

I want to tell you about these knives: They were beautiful. They were weird. They had elaborate designs in the handles, moons or stars of wolf heads, and special grips, and a variety of points. They were made from metals whose pedigrees were described lovingly, and had been struck — smithed? wrought? — via processes I knew absolutely nothing about, but that sounded fantastic, difficult, arcane. It’s the joy of specialized language: When you’re an outsider to it, it can’t help but sound cool.

Of course this is the whole idea of any operation like this. SUPPLY OF KNIVES could well have been, and probably was, a company in Ohio who’d stumbled across an old warehouse full of knives, and knew enough about sales to describe these things in the most exotic terms they could find. I’m pretty immune to pitches: Who likes to feel like he’s being pitched? But somebody involved with SUPPLY OF KNIVES had had just enough authorial flair — that, or true faith — to caption each knife’s mysterious, blurry accompanying JPEG with a description whose constant recourse to specialized vocabularies seemed to say, “You’re not even reading this unless you already know about this sort of thing. Let us therefore speak like the fellow travelers we are.”

It was like a trade catalog for roadside bandits in need of knives.

I can’t speak for everybody, but I know that when I was a child the life of the roadside bandit seemed like a pretty romantic way to go. I looked at all these knives and read the descriptions and was just generally delighted about the whole thing, so I saved the email in a “memorable spam” folder I used to keep that had maybe two other emails in it. A few years later, Apple came out with this robotic-arm-screen iMac you never see any more, and we were long overdue for a new computer so we got that; and then, after a while, I got myself a laptop, because I was traveling all the time, and eventually both the old iMacs ended up in the basement, and they were both asleep but alive until fairly recently, as far as I knew.

But when I went to check for the email, it was gone. The old blue iMac is dead, bricked, lifeless. Searches on the term “supply of knives” on this laptop and on good old robot-arm-screen find nothing. The backup CD for the blue iMac drive is probably in a drawer around here somewhere, but that’s like saying, “The coin I had in my swim trunks’ pocket is probably somewhere in the ocean.” There is no SUPPLY OF KNIVES. There’s only the memory."

[source]

And this is the wonderful cover art of Getting Into Knives. Back cover and promo material below. Note that "Knives International" and "Knives Wordwide" are not real companies, they appear to be a callback to that elusive spam email.

[aizawasbrazybaby]

❥𓂃𓏧Freak Like Me

𖦹Warnings: Corrupt Cop!Nanami x Fem!Reader, Pet names? (Calls reader Beautiful a lot), Semi-public (car sex), p in v sex, Oral (fem receiving), Very brief mention of blood, Cervix kissing, Dubcon (consent is implied but he doesn’t ask before touching reader)

𖦹Word Count: 1.7k (I had to restrain myself from making it longer🥲)

🫧: Hello everyone sorry for any mistakes I always try to proof read at least twice before posting. Also I’ll be attempting to upload here and WP on Fridays at 5pm est.🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Summaryᐕ: It was supposed to be a late night traffic stop…only he was off duty and everyone knows what happens after dark.

Air moved deeply through your lungs harshly exiting your nose. Those fluorescent blue and red lights flashed obnoxiously bright, forcing your eyes to shut into a squint. The officer’s tall figure strutted over to your old compact sedan that was honestly hanging on by the grace of god herself. His blonde hair and white skin contrasted the chilled bitter darkness. Fingers tapped the window and signed for it to be rolled down. Your eyes hit the back of your head as you followed the lawful command.

And holy fuck…

A chill ran up your spine. He looked like the finest piece of art man could make- so much so you had to do a double take at the patrol car to see if it was the real deal. That this wasn’t an elaborate prank by some shitty tv show or idiotic influencers that didn’t know how illegal impersonating an officer was.

“Pretty late for a lady like you to be out here dontcha think,” he glanced at the bloody scrubs in your passenger seat, “long night?”

“That easy to tell?” your fingers rubbed at the dark circles under both eyes, “sorry but is your bodycam on?”

A strange mix of a laugh and hum rumbled in his throat, “license and registration ma’am.”

A demand.

Mint intertwined in his cool breath as he let out an annoyed sigh waiting for you to gather your things. As if you initiated the traffic stop on him. He softly snatched at the forms you handed to him.

“What has you out here so late, nurse ____?” His gaze flickered back to the passenger seat.

“Doctor,” you corrected.

“What?”

“It’s Dr._____ I’m not a nurse.”

He grinned, “well, many apologies for my ignorance.” You looked in his narrow eyes and something shifted in you. In both of you. Your pants felt almost suffocating on your throbbing pussy as that honey-like essence pooled to your center.

“I-I just got off work at the hospital,” you pointed behind you, “third twelve hour shift this week. I pulled over to get some sleep, heard somewhere that driving tired is as bad as driving drunk.”

Why’s his stare gotta be so intense? Your mind raced. Eyes lowering to his beautifully plump lips. Watching his tongue swipe teasingly slow over the bottom one before it was held between his teeth.

Good fucking God.

“Have you been drinking tonight?” You could have swore a glimpse of a grin flashed just as quickly as it had disappeared . His calloused fingers softly traced your jawline, thumb running across your lips. A line was crossed. Several lines. But shit it’s been so long since you’d been caressed. And the man before you was so alluring. You leaned into Nanami’s touch- your eyes fluttering shut for a second before burning into his.

“No, officer.”

“Why don’t you step out for me beautiful,” his voice low and seductive. Embarrassment burned through you from how quickly you obeyed. Horny and stupid. Desperate and horny. He looked you up and down then grabbed your hands. Cold to the touch but you didn’t pull away, placing them behind your head, “Lock your fingers.”

Holy hell he was close.

You could feel the heat emanating from his mouth. Circling you he stopped behind, pressing against your back. His belt. The service belt was nowhere to be found. Pressure started at the wrist and worked its way to your waist. Outlining the shape. His fingers trailed over your breasts. so. very. slow. Each finger took its time feeling the buds that hardened under.

Desperation made itself known from a slight gasp that morphed into a whimper, “shit.”

Nanami groaned in response. He walked back around, hands lowering to the fat of your ass gripping and squeezing. He placed a kiss on your cheek and nipped at your jaw.

“Sir,” you glanced at the abandoned strip of road, “not out here.”

His hand pulled to the front rubbing your pussy through your thin sweats. His digits worked their way inside feeling how wet you were. Snatching a moan from your throat that your own ears struggled to recognize. No panties. A bold move on your end.

“Get in the backseat,” his teeth caught on your bottom lip. An arm rounded your waist pulling you away from your car before opening the door for you. He blocked your head from hitting the top of the doorway like he would if sticking you in his squad truck.

Before you could speak your sweats were around your ankles. His eyes looked back at you as he kissed up your thigh, “want me to stop?”

“No!” Your voice was under a shout. Loud. Desperate. And beyond fucking horny for the stranger with his upper half leaning between your legs. The other hanging out the car.

He chuckled, “okay doctor.” His tongue ran up your slit catching the enticing liquid that glazed parts of your skin. Ecstasy swam through your veins and straight to where the man was now sucking your sensitive clit. Hands sliding through his healthy locks he moaned on your cunt. You hissed at the feeling.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

You sat your head up seeing Nanami dig in your pocket and pull out your phone. He flashed the screen and your heart skipped a beat. “Don’t.” From his shit eating grin you knew he wasn’t gonna listen. He firmly pressed the green answer and tossed you the phone.

“Hey JESS,” you stifled the moan that clawed to be set free. The cop pushed your thighs apart, thrusting his middle and ring fingers inside. You squeezed your eyes shut at the sudden intrusion. Savoring that pain spiked with pleasure.

Is that mommy? Your six year old asked sleepily in the background.

Hey Miss.____ I was just checkin on ya. It’s pretty late just wanted to see if everything was okay

“Y-yes hon everything’s fine just got off work a bit late.”

Nanami unbuttoned his slacks, releasing his erection. Lining himself to your pussy that clenched around nothing. He smiled from ear to ear slowly inching himself deep.

That’s good. Baby Kiri keeps askin for ya wanna say good night before I put her to bed?

“No!” you lowered your tone, taking a fistful of Kento’s shirt, “no need I’ll s-see her when I g-get home.”

He took the phone muting and keeping it on speaker, “lemme hear you beautiful,” his pace increased. Squelching and your squeals filled the car, “fuck darling n-nice and loud. That’s it.”

“Nanami,” you whimpered, “fuck pleaseee.” You dragged.

“Uh uh Kento when I’m fucking you,” he smirked.

Why not? Hello? ___ are you there? Is everything okay?

He thrust one last time before plunging his cock deep inside. And fuck. Fuck. fuck. fuck. His tip was pressing against your cervix. Your legs started to shake slightly but enough where he noticed. And you clenching tight around him had his eyes rolling back and breathing heavy.

Unmute. “I-I’m fine Jess. Just in a bit of a s-situation right now.”

His hips rocked slowly bringing that tight coil closer. His teeth glided over your throat, “gonna drive me crazy hang up that damn phone,” you could sense his lust from his deep whisper.

Should I send someone out there? What’s happening?

“No need, ‘mtaking good care of her,” he growled at the nanny.

Who is this? Where’s ___??

“Gonna have to, ah, call you b-back.” You tried your best not to let it out but that moan slipped through and no doubt she picked up. Nanami took your phone tossing it atop those dirty scrubs.

Oh…ohh, it clicked. She hung up immediately.

He slammed his hips into yours. Faster. Stronger. Until that coil grew so tight in the both of you that you were shouting each other's names as you came. His hot cum filling you up so full and you leaving your cream all over him that is splattered just below his belly button. Drained of all his energy and stamina he rocked into you riding out the high to both of your orgasms.

“Kento,” you said breathlessly, “thank you.” Of course he didn’t know what you were thanking him for. Didn’t know you’d been so deprived from a man’s touch. You craved some kind of sexual interaction. Didn’t know he relieved so much of the pent up stress from work and being a single mother.

“Any time beautiful.” He panted but managed to keep a smile on his handsome face. He pulled out looking for something, anything to help clean you up. When his eyes landed on you, you pointed to the front seat.

“Got a few baby wipes in the glove compartment.”

He nodded. You watched as he climbed out zippering his pants as his head fell back. Taking in the cool night breeze. God he was something to behold. Walking around the front he took out the pack of wipes and jogged back to you.

“Does anything hurt? Are you alright?” He asked back to his monotone as he wiped your thighs and intimate parts.

“I’m alright.”

“Think you can walk?” he shimmied your sweats back up, shoving something in the pocket. Before you could even answer he pulled you to the edge of the car by your legs making you yelp. He held you like a bride before placing you in the driver seat.

“Hope so.” You said quietly. His hand grabbed the back of your head through the window pulling you in a kiss. Long and passionate. If you knew anything it was that this man was gonna be the death of you. You felt yourself getting wet all over again.

“G’night…officer Nanami.” You looked deeply in his eyes.

“Get home safe.” He didn’t smile or break the contact. He climbed back in his car shutting off the lights and starting his car back up. Digging in your pocket you pulled out his business card that had his number written neatly in blue pen on the backside. Your mouth gaped open and looked out your window as he was passing you. Driving slow he seen the card in your hand and winked at you. That shit eating grin back on his lips.

Staring daggers back at the card you wondered how long you were really out for.

[nicksbestie]

Hiii could i request a Johnnie Guilbert x gn reader where johnnie has a giant crush on reader and reader flirts w him and flusters him

Yes!!! This was so fun to write bc it's my first fic for this fanbase, so pls give me feedback!! and send in more reqs!! <3

Hallway Crush

word count : 1909

no warnings!

pairing : johnnie guilbert x reader

enjoy! <3

School had never really been Johnnie’s thing.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t good enough to pursue an incredible education, it was just that he didn’t normally have the motivation. He wasn’t dumb, he was incredibly intelligent, but he just didn’t have the energy to push to show it most days. He was the kid who always passed, very average but not stellar grades, but every now and then shocked his teachers and classmates with pulling out a top of the class grade. He would laugh and call it his magic trick if you ever asked him about it. However, music was his thing, and because of that, he took every musical arts related class that he could during his years in high school. 

He was a quieter kid, with a much more alternative style of dress, and because of both of these factors, he was a bit of a loner. He wasn’t disliked, per say, but he wasn’t popular, and he didn’t go out of his way to attempt to gain a large group of friends. He had a few friends his age who went to other schools that he saw quite often, and those were good enough for him. He didn’t see a point in trying to put himself out there, so to speak, when he was quite comfortable where he was. Quality over quantity, right? That, of course, didn’t mean that there weren’t times in his life where he wished that more people adored him like they do for a lot of the popular teenagers. 

Sometimes it helped to be more on the outcast-y side. He could get away with silent observation, learning things that nobody had any idea that he knew about. He was a kid people talked so much around, but not to. They weren’t worried that their secrets would be spilled or spread around in any sort of way because they didn’t believe that he had anyone to tell them to, or that anyone would believe him in the first place. But other times, he wished he had more of the school, or at least his grade’s, support. Like now, when he had a massive crush on the most popular student in the entire school. Maybe, if he did, he would have more of a chance. 

He tried not to think about it a whole lot. It wasn’t good for him to dwell on things, as he had learned early in life. It caused his mental health to struggle if he stewed on a specific negative topic for too long, and even though the topic of a crush isn’t inherently negative, the fact that he didn’t feel like it would ever go anywhere was. Being that he didn’t have a lot of friends at the school he was at, he wasn’t a stranger to staring looks and laughing sometimes. He wasn’t exactly bullied or picked on, but when people ran out of new, fresh, drama to talk about, it was easy for them to turn to the kid who was never really speaking to many people. 

He used music to escape his own head, and he always had. It had been a coping mechanism of his for so many years, before he was even old enough to realize what it was, or what had caused him to need it more and more. He was incredibly musically gifted, a natural talent within the dexterity of his fingers for guitar, and it was always a calming thing for him to partake in. Sometimes he wrote his own music, but most times when he just needed a quick release, he would pick a song that he had been resonating with lately and strum through it a couple times. He would get lost in the feeling of the music and the feeling of the strings underneath his fingertips. It was always a thing that caused him to completely lose track of time, and he loved it. It was always a perfect thing to enjoy something you were also so good at. It kept that passion for it alive.

The music room was where he went during his free time. He couldn’t drive, and luckily, his free periods lined up with the music free periods, so he could always be found in that room, playing something on his guitar in the back corner. He also went there during lunch, preferring to spend the time doing something productive for his music. He really wanted to go into a career in music, and he was working so hard to achieve that despite many of the struggles he was facing at the same time. He poured his heart and soul into every song, every piece, that he wrote, and even when he didn’t like the music very much, he was proud of his ability to be vulnerable and put it onto the pages. That had taken a lot of personal growth for him to realize that to put good songs and things that he was proud of into the world, he would have to bare parts of himself for view.

It was during this part of his day, lunch time, when he was sitting in the music room, playing on his guitar. He was the only one in the room, and like usual, he was sitting in the back, not wanting to disturb anyone who could potentially choose to walk in. And after about ten minutes of the lunch period going by, there was someone who walked in, and Johnnie wanted to curse all ancestors before him for this type of bad luck. It would be the one person that he wanted to see more than anyone else in the school, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have been able to really talk to without humiliating himself. Only his luck. 

He didn’t speak to you when you walked in, but he did offer a kind smile when you looked up and made eye contact, before looking back down at his guitar and continuing to work on his own music. You had stopped by the music room because you had a music project that had to be completed, but you weren’t very musically inclined, so you felt very grateful that you didn’t have to present it, only had to turn it in. However, you did still have to make an effort, but you didn’t have a guitar at home, so you were stopping by to use the ones in the music room. You only knew a couple of chords, but it was the most that you knew on any instrument, so it was your best option. All you had to do was come up with a simple melody, a short strumming pattern, and that would pretty much be it, but for someone who wasn’t great at music, that was harder than it sounded. 

And it sounded pretty bad. Johnnie would never have said that directly to your face, but if you had turned around and watched him in the back corner, you would have been able to see him slightly grimacing whenever a chord sounded particularly bad. He wasn’t judging, necessarily, he remembered very well when he had been playing the exact same way, and if he felt anything, it would just be sorry for you because he could see on your face how frustrating the chords sounding incorrect were for you. After about ten more minutes of this, he stopped playing his own guitar, quietly watching and listening to the chords you were attempting to play. He listened to a couple shaky renditions of them, and attempted to play them on his own instrument. 

As soon as he did, you turned around, noticing how he froze as soon as your eyes were on him. 

“No, go on. Please. That’s exactly what I wanted it to sound like. How did you do that?” 

Taking a leap of faith, he got up to move across the room, pulling a chair up next to you and reaching his hands out. 

“May I?” 

You handed him the guitar, nodding, intently watching the way that he adjusted it on his lap before beginning to play it again. 

“You’re not pushing the strings down hard enough, and your fingers are too far away from the fret. That’s why it sounds so… that’s what you need to fix for it to sound a lot better.” 

You laughed, gently taking the guitar back. 

“Sounds so bad, it’s okay, you can say it.” 

He smiled, a blush gently dusting his face. 

“I wasn’t going to say bad. I was going to say buzzy but I felt that might be slightly insulting.” 

You shook your head, taking his advice and focusing on repositioning your fingers the way he had instructed. Strumming downwards, a smile broke out on your face when the first chord sounded so much better. Confidence boosted, you moved to the next one, wincing when it sounded worse than the original. His kind expression didn’t disappear, and instead he moved closer, a question in his eyes before he spoke it. You attempted to hand the guitar back to him, assuming he was going to ask to hold it again for a demonstration, but he quickly cut you off.

“No, keep everything where you are. Can I touch you?” 

You couldn’t deny the fact that your heart was racing. Despite your opposite styles and aesthetics, you had always found the style that Johnnie wore incredibly attractive. It wouldn’t fit you the way that it did him, but it looked so damn good on him, and apparently, he was oblivious to that fact. You wouldn’t have called it a crush at first assumption, but maybe that’s exactly what it was. You hide those feelings, throwing on a cocky look and smiling at him. 

“What exactly are you asking for?” 

He stammered in defense before noticing that you were smiling at him, and the dusty pink that had been on his face now turned a much darker red, and he just shook his head, looking back down at the guitar, refocusing. However, you thought if you were going to be getting closer to finishing this project, you were at least going to have a little fun while you were at it, especially with such a pretty boy right in front of you. 

“Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you. I’d say yes regardless, though.” 

His head snapped back up, an unbelieving laugh slipping out of his lips. 

“You can’t just say things like that.” 

You smiled at him, motioning for him to continue what he was doing, and he did. He moved around behind you to adjust his arm on the guitar as well, and gently moved and applied pressure to your fingertips before telling you to try strumming it now. 

“Why not?” 

He shook his head, instructing you to test out the chord again before replying. 

“You just can’t.” 

The chord sounded wonderful in comparison to what it had sounded like thirty minutes prior, and you were so grateful for all of Johnnie’s help. His head was right next to yours, a gentle smile on his face, a little bit of pride, and a lot of blushing prompted your next question.

“Can I kiss you instead?” 

He turned his head to stare at you, nearly wide-eyed, shocked with the realization that this wasn’t a dream, it was actually happening. This time, he didn’t hesitate to reply. 

“Yes. That you can do.”

[flemingsjersey]

Sous le ciel de Paris

Warnings : none this is just fluff

A/N: I tried to describe the places I talked about as best as I can as an ex Parisian but since it was sometimes ago I might have gotten some stuffs wrong . Once again excuse my poor English as I am not a native English speaker . Feel free to send in requests , I’ll get to them asap next week

The sun was high and the weather was warm . I stared around the Parc des Champions as athletes who had won medals in the previous days made their way on stage and were cheered on by everyone .

I clapped my hands at each one and laughed when some of them even started dancing or hyping the crowd .

I stared at my left as I heard Jessie laugh too .

It was only five days after Canada’s loss in the quarter finals . Five days after I I saw them lose and everything that had happened prior with the drone and Jessie’s injury .At first , I thought that it would be better to cancel our small trip we had planned to Paris for when Canada finished their play in the Olympics. I remember telling Jessie about it , thinking that she would be upset to stay here after everything but she insisted we still kept up with our initial plans so here we were .

Even if she seemed happy to be here it was pretty obvious that Jessie still seemed a bit down from seeing people celebrate their medals while she and the team couldn’t . I stared at the athletes on stage one last time and looked at Jessie .

« Should we head somewhere else ? We could go see Notre-Dame or just go visit The Louvre . What do you think ? We aren’t here for long so it might be better to directly get to visiting » I said softly , Jessie thought for a moment before agreeing .

It wasn’t long before we were on the parvis of Notre-Dame . Jessie was taking pictures of the cathedral and other buildings we came across as we made our way here . Notre-Dame was a good spot to start our trip , not too far from the Louvre by walking and the Seine surrounding the area .

« You know , it’s a bit sad it’s still closed for renovations, I would have liked to take pictures of the inside to add to the ones I took there some years ago when I came with the team » said Jessie as she took a specific shot of the cathedral . I nodded as I looked at her camera to see the picture « I agree , sadly back when it was still open I never went to Paris so I never really got to see the inside . It must be really cool to see it from up close »

We continued our way alongside the Seine towards the Louvre . It was pretty packed , not because of the museum in itself , no . But because of the Olympic flame being shown not far from the main building in the back gardens of the Louvre . I heard Jessie sigh behind me as we saw just how long the line to see it up close was .

« Guess we’ll just have to stick to the museum » shrugged Jessie as we made our way down the stairs of the main area before entering the museum .

We made our way across the statues galerie , the museum was far bigger than I remembered and walking all around it was getting tiring . Apparently it was the opposite for Jessie who only seemed to get happier the more we came across different statues or old relics . As we made our way to the art galleries I saw Jessie take pictures of some statues and the Crown Jewels in the French royal history part of the gallerie that was right before the art one .

Thanks to Jessie having managed to get us a specific badge it was possible for us to take a picture of the Joconde up close which seemed to overjoy the freckled Canadian .

When we made our way out of the museum it was already late evening . I gasped when I saw Phryge , the Olympic mascot for Paris , near the entrance .

« Babe look !! » I exclaimed as I pointed to Phryge « We need to take a picture with Phryge before we leave » . I led Jessie to the mascot who greeted us both with a hand sign . Jessie chuckled as she waved back at Phryge . She went up to someone near and handed them her phone , asking them if they could take a picture of us . The three of us posed while the person took the photo . We said our goodbyes to the mascot as Jessie picked up her phone and thanked them for the photo .

That night we had dinner at a fancy restaurant before we made our way to bed in our hotel room . Jessie cuddled into my side as we both looked through her camera at all the pictures she had taken today . I blushed slightly as I saw she also took pictures of me without me knowing . We both chuckled when we saw the ones of us and Phryge .

It wasn’t long before both of us fell asleep , cuddled up to each other . I couldn’t wait for tomorrow , being able to continue exploring the city of love once again .

[profound-imagination]

Something That We're Not - Xavier Thorpe.

Y/N has a secret, she also has feelings for a boy that doesn't have feelings for her but she's prepared to sacrifice everything for him and her friends, as well as revealing her secrets.

A/N - Maybe a little angsty, but I don't think there's any trigger warnings, took some liberties with Y/N's powers.

W/C 2.5k

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

How you'd ever been allowed to attend Nevermore you weren't sure, a school full of Sirens, Werewolves and Vampires but no Fae, no one like you. No half breeds. Books and films would depict your kind as light and goodness but in reality it was much darker, there was no ethereal glow that you carried, no beautiful wings like an angel, wings yes, but you could will yours in and out of existence and they were hard and leathery, like a bat. When you use your powers your eyes would turn black, your front teeth would elongate into fangs and the veins under your eyes would darken, much like the depiction of vampires in the popular show Vampire Diaries. No, there was nothing beautiful about being Fae. So you let them all think you're a witch with the magic you possess.

You had settled into Nevermore well enough after the school had reopened and had been taken in by an unlikely group of friends. None of them knew what you could do, what you were capable of, so the focus of everyone's attention remained on Wednesday Addams. A morbid girl who never had much to say, unless she had something to say, you liked that about her. Her best friend Enid had bounced up to you on the first day and announced you were adopted by their group. Her boyfriend Ajax was nice enough, always shared his joints with you and looked at Enid like she'd hung the stars just for him, you liked that for her. Xavier Thorpe was a bit of a mystery, he could make paintings and drawings come to life but there was something about him that convinced you he was capable of much more, he and Wednesday flirted between the lines of friendship and something more so you settled into life as a fifth wheel.

As the weeks went on, a tiny little spark of something started in your chest when you looked at the artist or when he smiled at you, or when he silently handed you a book he'd just finished that he thought you'd enjoy. The spark caught on fire when he'd taken you to his art shed and showed you the corner he'd set up just for you, fairy lights hung around it, a big comfy chair and fluffy blankets and all the books you could ever ask for. "I get the feeling sometimes the school is too loud for you, I see you flinch away from the noise, I thought you'd like some quiet place to escape to." He was right, the school was too loud for your sensitive hearing but you weren't about to tell him why. You smiled at him and nodded. "Thank you, Xavier." He smiled back and nodded as he handed you a key. "You're welcome here anytime, as long as you don't mind me painting here as well." Your fingertips brushed his as you took the key from him. "It's your place, Xav. I won't ever complain about you being here."

It wasn't long after that when the Normies started disappearing, you knew the signs, you knew what was taking them, the Fae, but how could you tell your friends without telling them how you knew, Wednesday had jumped headfirst into the investigation and so you laid clues for her to figure it out, left books where she'd find them that would give her the information she needed and you stayed quiet, playing the dutiful friend, listening to her theories while silently pining for the boy that was pining for her. You spent your evenings in the shed with Xavier, pretending to read at this point while you watched him over the top of your book, he'd caught you staring more than once and smirked back at you.

It was a Friday evening and he was practically bouncing when you entered the shed. "Two things to tell you!" Was how he greeted you, you laughed at him and placed your bag down next to your chair. "Okay! Spill it Thorpe!" He beamed down at you. "The first one I need to show you!" You nodded and smiled at him as he walked towards a covered canvas and pulled the cover off. Your breath caught in your throat. It was you, sat in your cosy chair, hair in a messy bun on top of your head, much like it was now, a book in your hand and you had a small smile on your face looking at the pages, the yellow lights of the room bathed you like an angel. Then it hit you, he'd used colour, he'd painted you in pastel colours, his usual style being charcoal drawings or earth tones. Movement dragged you out of your trance as he came to stand behind you, his hand bringing the painting to life, you turned a page, and looked up, the small smile on your face turned into a brilliant grin, you assumed that was you looking at him. Tears filled your eyes as you turned and threw yourself into his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. "Thank you, Xav, it's beautiful, you made me look beautiful." You sniffled into his chest. His long arms wrapped around you. "I just paint what I see." He murmured into the top of your head.

"So what's the second thing you had to tell me?" You asked as you pulled yourself away from him. He grinned down at you. "Wednesday let me ask her to the Rave'N and said yes!!" You felt your smile falter for half a second and your heart that had just been soaring crashed and burned. You plasted a fake smile on your face. "That's great, Xav! I'm so happy for you!" He was still grinning like a fool. "Who are you going to ask?" You shook your head. "I think I'm going to give it a miss, I'll probably just sit here and read, too loud." He opened his mouth to argue with you but Wednesday burst through the door and the pair of them were off to investigate some lead she had found for her investigation. A lone tear slid down your cheek as you looked at the painting of you one last time before you covered it with the sheet again.

A week had passed since the shed and Enid had tried dragging you and Wednesday dress shopping, this year's theme being "Royal Ball" meant the girls would be in need of ball gowns. Enid was outraged that you'd decided not to attend, even Wednesday was unimpressed. "You mean I have to endure this particular form of torture alone?" She'd asked you. "You'll be with Xav, Wednesday, you'll be fine." You sighed at her and she didn't meet your eyes. "Actually before we head into Jericho I have something to show you both." You told them as you dragged them towards your dorm room. The two girls stopped in their tracks when they saw the two dresses on mannequins in your room. "Where did you get these?" Enid gasped, you shrugged. "I made them…for you." Enid to a step towards the dress that was clearly made for her, a pale pink gown with a silver snake that twisted up the bodice and around the neckline, an ode to her boyfriend. "You don't have to wear them or anything, I'm sure there will be nicer ones in town." You filled the silence, it was Wednesday who broke it. "No." You turned to look at her, you'd been too busy watching Enid to notice that Wednesday had moved closer to the black gothic gown you had made for her. "It's perfect." She breathed, a look of wonderment on her face.

You'd caved and sat with the girls when they got ready that weekend, helping them both into their gowns. "Have a wonderful night, you both look resplendent." You told them before you left. "Don't you want to see Ajax and Xavier?" Enid had asked innocently, you smiled at her and shook your head, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in your chest at the thought of Xavier turning up for a date that wasn't with you and headed out to the shed.

You fumbled in the dark for the light switch in the shed. The first thing you noticed was the canvas in the middle of the room, it was another painting of you, this time you were in a gown of sage green, spring flowers embroidered all over it, your hair was cascading down your back and over your shoulders, a beaming smile on your face. Then you noticed the big white box on your chair, two smaller boxes sat atop it, and a note.

"Enid and Wednesday told me you made them dresses, you deserve a dress too, even if I didn't make it. I'll save you a dance. Please don't leave me hanging. Xav."

You placed the two smaller boxes next to you and opened the biggest one, the dress from the painting was sitting in it, it was more beautiful than you could've imagined. He bought you a dress. He wanted you there. You opened the other two boxes, in one sat a pair of delicate heels, the other was jewelry and a pair of ear plugs that looked like another piece of jewelry it all perfectly complimented your dress, so you caved and there in the shed, you got ready to go to a ball, using your magic to do your makeup and tidy up your hair.

You stepped into the Rave'N about an hour after it had started, it was beautiful, you felt beautiful, all you wanted was to find Xavier and thank him for the dress and for always seeing you. You'd done two loops of the dance before you realised he wasn't there, neither was Wednesday. You found Enid and Ajax making out in a dark corner and left them to it without interrupting. Your heart felt like it was in your throat. He wasn't there, he'd left you hanging. Your hand subconsciously rubbed your chest where that uncomfortable feeling settled again and you headed towards the lake to sit in peace and feel sorry for yourself, you'd made it halfway when you ran straight into Xavier, Wednesday close behind him. "Y/N?" He asked, his eyes looking you up and down, you watched the realisation hit him, you'd put on the dress, you'd gone to the ball, for him and he wasn't there. Wednesday pushed him to the side before he could say anything. "Have you ever heard of the Fae?" She asked, the question took you by surprise and you shook your head. "It's the Fae that are taking the Normies and I think Xavier and I just caught their attention." She told you as she headed back towards the school, leaving the two of you behind.

"Y/N" Xavier said your name again as he reached out to grab your wrist. "Please don't." You asked him weakly, tears were filling your eyes. "I really need to stop believing in boys who paint me pretty pictures huh?" He flinched at your words and you sighed, wiping the tears from your face. "It's fine Xavier, don't worry about it." He pulled you back to him. "I hurt you." He stated and you shrugged. "Not intentionally, it's my fault really, I caught feelings and I shouldn't have." His eyes widened. "Did you really not figure that out, Xav?" He shook his head dumbly. "It's okay, honestly, I was never planning on acting on it or telling you, I see how you look at Wednesday. I got caught up in the dress, the ear plugs and the paintings and I read them wrong, you were just being a good friend." You pulled your wrist out of his grip and walked away as he called your name over and over.

Something had gone terribly wrong. Well several things. There was no comfortable friendship with Xavier anymore, you'd ruined that by telling him how you felt, you no longer went to the shed, he no longer made flirty comments at you or had the easy banter that there was before and all of your friends had picked up on it. Then the worst of them, the night the Fae attacked. You were woken by Bianca barging into your dorm, telling you to leave and explaining what was happening after you refused. You had assured her you would but instead you dressed quickly and clambered onto the balcony of your dorm. You willed your wings into existence and stretched them, flapping them a couple of times after having them hidden for so long and took to the sky, if you knew your friends, if you knew Wednesday, they'd be in the center of all of this, meaning Xavier would be in the middle and in danger. Your ears strained to hear your friends over the commotion as you flew closer to the quad. "Wednesday!" Your blood stilled, that was unmistakably Xavier calling for her, panic evident in his voice.

Perching on the roof overlooking the quad you saw your friends all but backed into a corner, all beaten, all bloody, Xavier stood in front of all of them, one arm cradled to his chest, clearly broken. Wednesday was less than a step behind him, Ajax covering Enid with his body. They wouldn't survive this, they didn't know how. This was it, they were going to see you for who you truly were, you didn't have a second to think as the Fae raised the bows they were armed with and took aim at your friends. You dropped from the ledge and landed In front of them, back to the Fae, wings flared, eyes locked onto Xavier's as one by one the arrows found a home in your wings and your magic pulsed out from you, knocking the Fae back and down, you'd bought only a few minutes, it would have to be enough.

"You all need to go." You told them as calmly as you could. Xavier was staring at the blood dripping down the wings he didn't know you had, Wednesday looked like she was piecing two and two together, Ajax was the only one who listened, dragging Enid with him. "Wednesday, break the arrows and take them out of my wings, quickly!" She nodded once and got to work. "Xav-" you started and he shook his head. "You're one of them?" He knew the answer but he asked anyway. You didn't get the chance to answer. "She's a filthy half breed!" One of the Fae spat from the floor, desperately trying to pull itself up. You met Xavier's eyes again. "I'm not wanted anywhere." You flinched as Wednesday was making quick work of removing the arrows. Xavier tracked your hand as you moved it to place it on his broken arm, he watched as his healed and yours broke. He watched as your hand pressed against the deep gash on his head and one opened on yours, Wednesday came back into view and you did the same for her, taking the worst of her wounds. "Go!" The Fae were on their feet again. "Wednesday!" She got the message, grabbing Xavier's arm and dragged him with all her might the same way Ajax had gone with Enid.

The last thing Xavier saw before Wednesday dragged him out of view was you, turning and limping towards a battle he wasn't sure you'd survive.

[exhausted-archivist]

Common Fanons That Are Confused As Canon

Through my time of collecting lore and learning things about Thedas I've come across a couple things of fanon that leaked into lists of canon elements. Which was an interesting little thing to follow the rabbit hole of where they even originated. While making this list I did ask others for any that I might have missed or not seen because I wanted to be thorough as I could when even making this list. I haven't been in the fandom long enough to see all the things that have come up.

To be clear, I thought it was neat to see what became so pervasive in the fandom to become easily mistaken as canon or misunderstood. I'm also not discussing whether canon as it stands is "good" or judging the fanon or anything like that.

I just wanted to put it all together in a list, especially as I have had friends who were getting into the series and ask about certain things; as well as Dragon Age Summer hitting us soon and new interest in the series abound.

General

Mages can sense other mages The closest source I can find to this is the fact that Anders states that he can "feel the power in you". No other mage states anything similar and could likely be attributed to the fact that he is possessed. Much like how Cole can sense your magical connection as an Inquisitor. An outlier is how Keiran can sense your magic regardless of if he has the Old God soul; but he is also not confirmed to be a mage as of yet.

All Saarebas always have their lips sewn shut/horns cut off This seems to originate from da2 specifically, with the model of Ketojan having the scarring, the other saarebas missing horns, the concept art, and then boils down to BioWare being inconsistent with their lore/depictions. Most of Thedas fixates on the fact that the Qunari have saarebas with their lips sewn shut, the Seer's yarn tale denotes that tamassrans tell the story of a saarebas with their lips sewn shut, the tarot art for Saarath, and the flippant joke between Sera and Iron Bull. But, the lore specifies that it is in extreme cases or in general that it can occurs but it is not the standard. [WOT p. 103 & 128] Much like tranquility, it is used as a form of punishment - one that we know can and is abused by certain factions. We also see saarebas characters in Inquisition who do not carry either of those traits. Specifically Hissera (multiplayer), Saareth (Trespasser), Heroes of Dragon Age models, and some Qunari in da2.

All Saarebas have their tongues cut out This is seperate from the previous point due to the different source of this fanon. It seems to be an exaggeration of one particulare line from Sten. In dao, Sten will state during the Broken Circle quest that "This is why we cut the tongues from mages, in Par Vollen." He is very general with the statement, but contextually it is reasonable people took this to mean all mages. However, since dao it has been made clear that it is not a universal practice throughout the Qun.

Elves are shorter than humans This one does have a clear point of where this started, though it is never stated in lore, back in Origins elven models were universally shorter than humans. But from DA2 onward, male elves were only shorter than their human counterparts of the same sex while female elves are shorter than both human sexes. Fenris is taller than f!Hawke while both forms of Hawke are taller than Merrill. Solas, Abelas, and a m!Lavellan are taller than female human characters but all human characters are taller than female elves (except Sera who has a female human model).

Dalish are illiterate This is a little less clear to me where its origins started. Perhaps based off of medieval period history (which da isn't necessarily medieval in time period) or due to the fact that most common folk in certain regions in Thedas are illiterate and reliant on pictures over written words. But we know from the Witch Hunt dlc that the Dalish keep tomes of their history and of the ancient elven empire. They also actively translate ancient elven script for their own records. Whether this is role restrictive or not is unclear, but we do know that the Dalish are literate in both Common and semi-literate in ancient elven script.

Dalish and City Elves don't have contact This seemingly comes from a misunderstanding stemming in the city elf origins in dao where some npcs will comment on how Dalish might be myths. However, in dao, da2, dai, the comic Knight Errant, and the novel The Masked Empire, that elves from both sides do semi-regularly trade people with each other if not visit certain alienages, as well have other points of contact with each other. Pol, Zevran, Coran (Vaea's uncle), and potentially Feynriel are all city elves that join Dalish clans. Merrill and Arianni are known Dalish who join alienages.

City elves are genetic/physical differences from the Dalish elves This one I have seen around a lot, most stemming from the idea of the previous one that the elves in the city are generations apart from the Dalish, implying they have no contact with each other. Which could be true for certain alienages. But as far as lore is concerned there isn't any example of this, not even as being a point of reference for the Dalish to consider any of the aspects as to what makes them "less of an elf" in comparison to Dalish.

Elves pass on their elven traits Most seem to know this isn't canon, albeit one of the less popular canon elements; but new fans don't always know this. It is popular fanon to give half-elven children the reflective eyes, smaller stature, more angular features, straighter nose bridge, and/or pointed ears from their elven parent.

Only elves can have mixed kids with other races This seems to come from the fact that elven traits aren't passed on to their kids when mixed parentage is involved. However humans, dwarves, and vashoth can all have mixed kids from the other races. According to Patrick Weekes, this decision was made consciously to avoid very racist and harmful rhetoric. We know of many elf/human mixed kids: Alistair, Eiton, Feynriel, Gestan and Thale (residents of elven area of Halamshiral), Kieran (conditions), Michel de Chevin, Rinnala, "Sabina's Brat" (son of the elven prostitute Sabina at the Blooming Rose), Slim Couldry, Tainsley (Potentially. Is described as a 7'(2.13m) human, though he references a Dalish uncle.) While mixed dwarf children are rare simply due to dwarven fertility issues we do know of two dwarf/human kids: Keiran (conditional) and the child of Tyrdaa Bright-Axe(Avvar) and Hendir (dwarf).

Elfroot leaves get you high/is Thedosian marijuana This is another Origins era thing, due to an easter egg that made a play on the American "This is your brain on drugs" anti-drug campaign using elfroot. This was then repeated in 2015 when Patrick Weekes said that its medicinal properties were rediscovered in 4:20. [Source] Elfroot hasn't been shown to get anyone high in canon, it is the roots that are primarily used as medicinal. In World of Thedas (WoT) vol. 2 the recipe for Dalish Deep Forest Comfort says you can substitute elfroot for spinach making the leaves more vegetable in quality. That said, marijuana leaves are edible and rather nutritious. They just don't have the chemical make up to induce a high. Those lie strictly in the buds. According to Origins, elfroot does flower though.

Red lyrium is completely different and more dangerous from blue lyrium This one is all on BioWare in regards to this misconception. Because while yes, it is more dangerous than the blue lyrium, they aren't two seperate substances. More that red lyrium is a branch off. To cover the generals of the written lore of lyrium it breaks down like this: Blue lyrium in it's raw form innately toxic to just be around to all but dwarves, however it will kill a mage who gets too close in proximity. That proximity being within the same room while non-mages would have to touch the stuff. It also has a pension of self-combustion without warning or a clear cause. When it is refined down for templar use it is "safe" for non-mages to come in contact with and consume. Whether this level of refinement is the same level as what is used to make various cocktails and liqueur is unclear. But we do know that getting too close, being in same room as lyrium refined to this level, is enough to make a mage sick. Finally, we have the most refined and diluted stage of lyrium, this is used by mages to make potions, certain alchemical work, and other things. This isn't enough to kill a mage, make them sick (without extreme over use), and infact can result in positive outcomes for a mage. Red lyrium overlaps with most of that, with a couple key differences. First off is that red lyrium doesn't seem to self-combust. There is some contradiction on whether or not non-dwarves can mine it as due to game mechanics you can destroy it, but the only ones we see mining wild nodes are dwarves. But if the red lyrium is grown from a living creature it seems accessible to all races? In codices about the various types of red templars, we learn that a small vial around a templar's neck is enough to make all the mages in the area around him sick.

Character Specific

Alistair

Alistair is a dog person I couldn't track any clear origins for this, it seems to be a case of overlap with the stereotype that "all Fereldan's love dogs" and a mix of building off of a line of dialogue about him being raised by the hounds and them being his family. However, he doesn't seem overly one way or the other. He mocks dog at times, talks down in not such a playful way, and at times seems to treat dog with the same attitude he does Morrigan though not as blatantly. This could be chalked up to his joking nature though.

Alistair's obsession with cheese While he does admit to an obsession to cheese, it is often cited that Alistair makes a ton of cheese jokes in dao. When in truth he only makes four through out the entire game. Given his joking nature it is up to personal interpretation of how much he actually loves cheese.

Alistair and Cullen knew each other before Origins This is more specifically that the two went to the same monastery for their templar training. There is no canon evidence for this though. That said, there is a possibility due to not knowing much of anything about how the Templar Order trains its recruits nor the amount of monasteries they have in Ferelden for training.

Alistair collects toy soldiers This seems to come from the gifts he can be given during the Feastday dlc. Canonically he is given runestones and carved statuettes of various types stone. These statuettes are described in a manner closer to effigies than toy soldiers.

Alistair's mother is not Fiona This one is a bit funny as it has multiple origins and is dependent on the player's experience with the series. From what I have gathered there seems to be one of three sources: - People who never read the Dragon Age novel The Calling - People who read The Calling after playing dao and feels like it is a retcon (though The Calling was released prior to the release of dao, same with the novel The Stolen Throne) - People who take a "chuck the baby with the bathwater" approach to the lore The funny thing about this is that the cover story in dao for Alistair's mom is based off a combo of things; the hypothetical scenario Fiona told Maric and answers she gave Maric when he asked what to tell Alistair if he asked about his mother. The hypothetical was that Fiona would not return to the Circle and would hide from the templars and pretend to be a washer woman. When Maric asked what to tell Alistair of his mother, Fiona said to tell him his mother was human as she did not want him to deal with being half elven and all the stigma that comes with that as well as to tell Alistair that she was dead.

Avaline

Aveline is straight She will kiss Hawke regardless of gender and ask them if they ever considered her and them. Though it is clear she never had romantic interest in Hawke in particular. An easily missed aspect I think given the general opinion of Aveline as well as most people seeming to not choose the flirtatious option with her.

Blackwall

Blackwall doesn't have a sense of humor This one genuinely surprised me considering he jokes with Sera, The Iron Bull, and Solas. His banter shows as much that he does have a sense of humor and tells jokes. But it does seem pretty common of a fanon characterization for him.

Dorian

Dorian paints his nails His model doesn't have painted nails in game, but it is a popular fanon. There is nail polish in Thedas though. It's mentioned in the novel Masked Empire as well as the novel Last Flight. It seems to be of Anderfles origins, but given the Last Flight is post Orlesian occupation, it could originate in Orlais.

Lady Mantillon said, tapping an elegantly lacquered fingernail on the polished wooden arm of her chair, “we will fail, or we will be killed. Neither is acceptable.” - Masked Empire, Chapter 17 p. 362 Every one of her fingers glimmered with a jeweled ring, and her nails had been freshly lacquered. - Last Flight, Chapter 13 p. 144

Fenris

Lyrium can be drawn from Fenris' tattoos There is no mention of this being possible in da2 or any of the subsequent media. There isn't even mention of others being able to sense the lyrium in his tattoos or even mages getting sick around him as they sometimes will dependent on the concentrations and/or purity of lyrium.

Fiona

How Fiona was cured of the taint This comes from The Calling novel, where it isn't ever clarified what actually removed the taint from Fiona. The common fanon is that it was either the mentioned brooch, or that by having Alistair. That it was by having Maric's son who has Great Dragon blood due to being of the Theirin bloodline that cured her. However, in the novel she is very clear that the mages at Weisshaupt aren't sure what cured her. She only offers one explanation that the Grey Wardens theorized and trails off before saying what the second one was.

“It’s gone,” she said flatly. “The mages at Weisshaupt weren’t sure if it was because the First Enchanter’s brooch sped things up artificially, or... at any rate, all the corruption vanished. They don’t think it’s going to come back, either. There was test after test, but they think I may be the first Grey Warden that never has to endure the Calling again.”

Hawke

Hawke is stabbed by the Arishok This fanon likely came into being due to one of the moves the Arishok has where it will leave you almost dead. So a bit of canon as it is in his move set, but fanon in the idea it is something that always happens in canon.

Unable to confirm if Fanon, Canon, or a mix of both

Teagan marries Bella, the barmaid from Redcliffe This one goes back really far and is hard to tell if it is a case of mistaken identity and association, or a really buggy option for the epilogue, or isn't actually a possibility. What I can confirm is that Teagan does have a woman he can marry given certain conditions are met in dao, but it is actually Kaitlyn, the sister who's brother goes missing in Redcliffe. If you properly compensate her for her grandfather's sword she'll open up a foundry in Denerim and will marry Teagan after having known him for a few months. According to this thread, you have to get Kaitlyn to move to Denerim with her brother, make Bella the maid to Teagan and in the ending slide Teagan and Bella will get married. Though I haven't been able to confirm that this is possible. (If you have a screenshot/video of this slide and know how to trigger this please let me know) This is also not an option mentioned in the Keep, however neither is Kaitlyn's. Which isn't surprising given some of the ending slides that were not direct player choice (ex) choosing Orzammar's king) are mostly cut from canon.

[tobiasdrake]

Could you tell us something underrated about Bulma? For being around since literally the very beginning, I find she’s not talked about as much.

Bulma is the scariest person in the Dragon Ball universe. The anime softens a lot of her edges. And, like, she's not a total monster; She cares about things like people not being killed by genocidal assholes too.

But she is such an asshole and I love it. Bulma is the character I relate to most in Dragon Ball.

(Also she has an unshakable faith in Goku and he'll always be the number one martial artist in her eyes, and any man that wants to be with her needs to respect that.)

For starters, it's worth noting that the naming convention of Bulma's family is called out as weird even in-universe. Nobody bats an eye at characters being named after fruit or vegetables or rice or the Dairy Special Forces but they draw the line at underwear.

That's weird, Bulma. Your name is weird. Your father Briefs is weird. Your sister Tights is weird. Your son Trunks is weird. Your daughter Bra is weird. Why is your family like this?

Nearly every single person in the cast is someone who Goku initially had to fight in some way or another. Bulma is no exception, though their battle took place as early as issue #1.

When shooting a 12-year-old in the face with a gun failed, Bulma resorted to manipulation and subterfuge, and thus the most important relationship in the entire Dragon Ball universe was born.

Though Goku would not be the only person whose arm Bulma twisted, as this initial journey also sees her enslave a sentient being to do her bidding.

Despite ironically filling the role of a Buddhist monk in the original Journey to the West, this opening arc lays a lot of groundwork for who Bulma is. She tricks Goku and enslaves Oolong to coerce assistance in her quest to conjure up a magically-generated boyfriend (or infinite strawberries).

...then again, Tang Sanzang imprisoned Sun Wukong in the original so maybe Bulma's a better adaptation than I gave her credit for.

Point is, Bulma's a fireball. Even Goku sees it.

In the first arc, we also see her get accustomed to calling on Goku like he's her Pokemon.

Bulma is not a martial artist. She knows next to nothing about the implicate complexities of the art. Though she does enjoy being on the outer fringe of it and watching from a distance.

Well. Not from that much distance, because she always has the best seats in the house. Courtesy of inappropriate violence with firearms.

Not only is Bulma complicit in this - they clearly discussed it in advance, based on Oolong's remark and Bulma's knowing smile - but in the 23rd she actively makes it happen.

Sitting in the nosebleeds is for peasants; Bulma is a princess.

I should probably note that after Lunch moves on and leaves the group, Bulma doesn't lose access to violent backup. She just trades Lunch out for Chi-Chi.

The Battle of the Soccer Moms is the best part of the 25th's Junior Division. There's only room for one Alpha Bitch in these audience stands.

Notably, it doesn't take long for her relationship with Goku to grow into a genuine friendship. Following this first arc, Bulma goes out of her way to hang out with Goku when she can and is always excited to see him.

Fun fact, despite the fact that Bulma's boyfriend Yamcha is actively living with them at the time, Bulma's dad ships her with Goku.

No love for Yamcha in this house. Notably, when they're six years older and it's not fucking weird, Bulma herself starts to agree.

But it's honestly best for everyone that this never became a romance. Bulma would have been even more miserable with Goku than she was with Yamcha, and having them hook up would deprive us of one of the greatest platonic male/female friendships in anime.

I'm not saying Vegeta is a replacement goldfish for Goku who got married and became unavailable this same day.

...but I'm not not saying that.

So far as martial arts go, her practical knowledge of the art is simple: Goku is a) invulnerable and b) infinity powerful, and that's all she needs to know. Nobody matches Goku. Ever.

You might think that this unyielding confidence in Goku as the Supreme Warrior would cause some conflicts for Bulma. Her boyfriend Yamcha is one of Goku's rivals, and has his eye on the Tenkaichi Budokai medal.

You'd be wrong. Bulma knows exactly who she's rooting for.

It's Goku. It's always been Goku. It's always going to be Goku. Bulma watches Yamcha and Krillin gush over how well they plan to do in the tournament and her takeaway is "LOL Goku's going to school both of you clowns."

This attitude makes it really funny to imagine what her relationship with Vegeta must be like, I gotta say. That Goku will always be #1 in Bulma's eyes can't be doing good things for Vegeta's insecurity.

But I digress.

Bulma is an exceptional scientist who comes from an exceptional scientific background. She's from one of if not the richest families in the world courtesy of her father inventing revolutionary shrinking technology that changed the entire nature of how products are transported.

You can put anything in a Capsule Corp. hoi-poi capsule. Throughout the series, we see not just vehicles stored in these capsules, but portable homes, weapons, and her father's pornography collection.

For her part, Bulma's a chip off the old block. I've spoken at length in the past about Bulma's invention of the Dragon Radar, trivializing what was meant to be a holy quest of virtue and turning the miracle dragon Shenron into her own personal plastic surgery vendor. She was 15 years old when she made that.

One year later, she extrapolated her father's shrinking technology into a portable device that safely applies its principles to people.

But both of those devices pale in comparison to the greatest invention of her life.

No, not the kid. Though he's cool too.

In a sense, despite being out-of-focus for most of it, the entire Cell Arc is Bulma's masterpiece. It's a proxy war between two mad scientists over the fate of the Earth. Seeking to kill Son Goku and avenge the Red Ribbon Army, Dr. Gero destroyed the world with his Androids.

Bulma took exception to that. And by "took exception", I mean she bent the time-space continuum over her knee and spanked it.

Trunks's journey through time is the culmination, both of Bulma's impossible super-genius and of her unyielding faith that Goku is the answer to any problem that needs to be solved with violence.

Dr. Gero's master stroke was to flood the world with murderous Androids. Bulma's response was to load a bullet named Goku into a gun named Trunks and fire it through time to put it between his eyes. Everything that transpired from there was the consequence of their two plans colliding.

The happier future we get to know in the Buu Saga is the world that Bulma made happen. Because the woman who would make a personal assistant out of our Great Green God's greatest miracle had the audacity and the irreverence to violate causality itself.

[heleentje]

So there's a take that crops up every so often in the Breath of the Wild fandom, and it goes something like this:

Windblight Ganon is such a piece of cake! If Revali were as talented as he claimed to be, he wouldn't have been defeated by it, so clearly he's just an arrogant blowhard.

I disagree. Because while Windblight might have been relatively easy for the player to defeat, circumstances conspired against Revali in every possible way.

Strike 1: The Blight Ganons were tailor-made to defeat the Champions

While it's not stated outright, the Blights seem to be custom-made to put their respective opponents at the worst possible disadvantage. So while Link can avoid the whirlwinds on the ground, they would be very disruptive to Revali's Gale (something he's only been able to do consistently for a short while). Arrows, too, can easily get blown off course by the wind even when using a heavy bow (so can a Rito, who is presumably lighter than a Hylian).

If, on top of that, it was raining (implied by memories #16 and #17), then Revali's favoured bomb arrows would have been useless. Not a great recipe for a fight.

Strike 2: Rito don't see well in the dark

Botw is a game that doesn't tell you a lot upfront, but you can find a wealth of information in every little corner. Case in point, in Gerudo Town there's a Rito named Frita. And she has a very interesting tidbit to share if you talk to her at night.

[Image ID: A Rito named Frita in Gerudo Town says: "Us Rito... We haven't got the best night vision, to be honest."]

When the Calamity emerged, an unnatural darkness blanketed the land. A darkness that persists from its appearance all the way through Link and Zelda fleeing and their final stand at Fort Hateno, up until Zelda temporarily sealed the Calamity (memories #15, #16 and #17).

That’s without even mentioning the laser show Windblight Ganon puts on. Ever encountered a car with LED lights on a dark road? Now imagine how Revali felt.

Strike 3: Revali had to fly non-stop for hours to get to Medoh

After sinking some hours into playing botw, you probably get used to warping all across the map via the shrines. Going from Lurelin to Rito Village is a matter of seconds. And if the Sheikah had been able to unlock the Sheikah Slate fully in the past, that would have been a massive boon to the war effort.

Unfortunately, they didn't. Which means that, when Calamity Ganon emerged, all the Champions had to take the long road to their Divine Beasts.

Now what does that mean for Revali? We can hazard a pretty good guess, but we don't have to, because the art book tells us: Revali flew straight from Lanayru East Gate to Rito Village. It's hard to tell exactly how long that would have taken him, but I'm estimating that would be about 8-10 hours flying non-stop.

[Image ID: A map of Hyrule showing the presumed routes the Champions took to get to their Divine Beasts. Revali's is a straight line across Hyrule.]

Which means Revali (like the other Champions) was probably already exhausted by the time he got to Medoh.

Aaaaaand that's three strikes, he's out!

But if that's not enough for you yet, here's one more thing. Admittedly, this is less solidly canon than the previous parts, but it's conjecture that, in my opinion, is backed up by the Champions' Ballad DLC.

Strike 4: Revali lacked his best weapon and may have been injured

The artbook shows us another salient tidbit. Revali could have detoured if he wanted to, but he didn't: he flew in the straightest possible line across Hyrule Field.

Hyrule Field, better known as the center of the chaos at the time.

Can we really expect a Champion, especially a Champion who's so eager to prove himself, to not stop and at least try to help? And while trying to help, what might have happened to him?

When you fight the Blights in the illusory realm, you gain a set amount of equipment, implied to be what the Champions carried with them at the time. And with Revali, something's missing.

[Image ID: The bow inventory during the DLC fight against Windblight Ganon. It includes a Falcon Bow, Duplex Bow and Phrenic Bow.]

Where's the Great Eagle Bow?

Would Rito Champion Revali, greatest archer in known Rito history, really not be carrying his signature bow, when every other Champion carried their favoured weapon?

This, combined with his route straight across Hyrule Field, makes me suspect that he did engage the Guardians, lost his bow, and may even have gotten injured in the process.

So there you have it. Just about everything was against Revali in that fight. And while Link, and by extension the player, may have had an easy time of it, they went into it at full health and with all the advantages of the Sheikah Slate.

Meanwhile, Revali arrived at Vah Medoh after a frantic hours-long flight only to be thrown into a fight he didn't expect against an opponent tailor-made to counter his every move, while he was unable to see properly and lacked his best weapon. And he still managed to put up one hell of a fight.

[theswordwizard]

ai art: both sides

I think a lot of non-artists are also just really and truly not understanding the big picture. I personally could not care less about that cat image, it was fun, whatever, but you are only producing those kinds of images in the sense that an art director "produces" whatever art they are in charge of. They are telling another artist what to do, even guiding them, but they are not considered the artist themselves. Artists who are creating their own art, who are trying to survive off of their work (many of whom have some form of disability, as art is easy to do while sitting down, etc), who are already in the middle of fighting to not just be tossed aside for a product which doesn't even produce the results it claims, are reacting negatively because they are seeing that in parallel with tabling spaces taken up with people presenting generated art as their own illustration, and game devs/producers using it as a way to explicitly avoid paying people for work, while using something that was trained on their work.

"Why do people react so strongly to things possibly being AI art?" If you want to keep it out of the courts, then public opinion matters all the more. It's about a party line that is easily communicable. Most artists are going to be strongly anti-AI because that's the best way to protect themselves than trying to "open a discussion" about it. It's like nurse scabs. We can argue back and forth all day about the intricacies of scabbing for important jobs, but at the end of the day the party line will generally be "scabbing is bad," "we don't like scabs," "scabbing harms workers."

People are trying to compare people getting mad about it to people getting mad about Duchamp's fountain, which just lets me know about their level of art education, and the level of which they like to talk out their ass.

Duchamp's fountain isn't a major point in art history because of the object itself, its because of the STATEMENT. It is because of the placement of the object IN THE GALLERY. It is the equivalent of a political pamphlet, but summed up in a single object that incites discussion around his political statement. It isn't about the object it is about the CONCEPT. We can literally call anything we want "art" if we dedicate ourselves to reframing it and treating it as such, it's just that most non-artists don't even care. They want the label of being an artist without even putting in an effort to. It's like if I wanted to be called a photographer and I wanted people to treat me as such, and so I just made a portfolio of pictures I took off of Pinterest or even a stock photo site, because I've decided that it's the photos I would WANT to take, and thus I can just act like they have anything to do with me.

There have been arguments over much more "similar" things for a long time too. Since the 90s Richard Prince has been taking people's instagram photos, making slight tweaks to avoid copyright, and then printing them large scale and selling them for tens of thousands of dollars. Technically legal, kinda shitty, as he does it without even contacting the (plenty of times, women) original posters. And that's just with selfies people have taken! But I don't see people mentioning that because a lot of people don't like him, and most people arguing to legitimize AI art to be uncontested don't actually care that much about contemporary art. They have zero real interest in being an artist and talking about art to that degree, to have those discussions in a way that isn't validating themselves. Duchamp's fountain in a gallery incites discussion because galleries are places of art discussion. If someone brought a crate of mechanically woven baskets (that they bought from amazon) to a craft fair, people are going to be rightly pissed off. It's about context.

It's also, in my opinion, a similar discussion to the one that was big on twitter not too long ago, where people argued that artists weren't obligated to be able to draw non-white and/or disabled people. Which, sure, but you probably aren't that good of an artist if you don't know how to. And someone going through a portfolio of exclusively white people might go "huh, only white people. interesting." (I even want to include a gotcha here! If an artist has a portfolio of white people, and they have a section talking about their focus being painting their family tree in like, northern Ireland, it's gonna be a totally different story. why, you ask? because there is an underlying concept other than "wow this artist really only likes white people." this is part of the reading comprehension test that will follow.)

And you know what, I'm going to be honest - and this is likely a result of me not being a photographer - but I'm not even really talking all that much about AI photo edits, outside of the large scale implications of what it means that anyone can create a highly realistic image of anything they want (including political figures, female celebrities, you see my pattern here) with zero effort, on a mass scale we've never seen previously. I think they should only be used with stock, and I even think that photographers who upload their works should get additional payments from it. I actually had used a generator back in 2019 for a project, well before this even became a discussion, and it was even featured in a gallery show for a bit! The overall theme was "fake news," so it was a conceptual piece with fake landscape photography that I made with some beta tool. The point was the tool in combination with the tool's result, not how pretty the fake pictures were. I also want to say it was trained a lot more ethically than a lot of the generators that are so popular today.

And this isn't to say that you have to have a gallery or be so fully integrated in a physical art scene or whatever to be able to make conceptual art or talk about it - honestly I think zines that could actually combine whatever your concept is with having room to talk about it, and they're easy to create both physically and digitally and share. maybe just don't have it be around "look at all these pretty pictures that I made with AI." similar to how people at the art book fair aren't going to be impressed with me being like "look at all these pretty pictures I found on Unsplash."

Sure, AI art is "real art," but it's not illustration or photography or whatever, it's conceptual art. Which means it's main goal is to incite thought and discussion about it. Like the D&D book's release that suddenly turned to being about the AI art they used. So if you want to be an artist using primarily AI, go ahead, no one can stop you, but the topic is culturally significant with the current fight between the entertainment unions to protect their livelihoods, so the discussion will be heated.

[andromeda-nova-writing]

Unpacking in the Infirmary

Fem!Reader

Summary: Restock day in the Infirmary has always been important for those who live in the Fortress. Especially with it being that place to go if something were to happen to an inmate or one of the staff members. With the amount of times Wriothesley has gotten hurt over the years, it's not surprising he ended up in there on one of those restock days. Though he didn't think he would also help with unpacking things as well.

Words: 3,039

AN: Once again I wrote a majority of this on my phone. I honestly can't believe how much I've written on my phone this year already. Hopefully, this doesn't become a major habit. Thank you @milkstore for reading over the fic. You caught so many mistakes due to my phone thinking capitalizing mid-sentence is a normal thing to do.

Warnings: Blood, Minor Injuries, Cleaning a wound. I personally wouldn't consider it too detailed but if you find any of that uncomfortable please go check out one of my other Wriothesley fics.

“You two should go take your lunch break already. I ate a late breakfast.” Y/N lifted a box of supplies from the surface and placed it on the table. Restock days had become important for her to be there for. It was easier to have someone who was not a Melusine to do any heavy lifting.

“You look tired. Are you sure you don't want to take a break now?” Sigewinne asked. Although her ask was more of telling her to take a break.

“I'll take a break when you or Ottnit get back. I promise.” She reassured Sigewinne. “Plus if we time breaks right we can get this done fast.”

Ottnit looked at Y/N before looking at Sigewinne. “She has a date.” She guessed.

Y/N rolled her eyes hiding a small smile. “Three days from now.” She answered before giving the real reason. “I promised I'd help my mother move her art studio into her new house after work.”

“It's more reason to take a break. You could have requested someone to take your place today.” Sigewinne reasoned.

“I know but I wouldn't have been able to give you those stickers for another week. It's been pretty peaceful down here lately. Let me have work as an excuse to see you two.” Y/N looked back to the box and grabbed a boxcutter to rid it of tape. “Just go enjoy lunch. You're just delaying how long till I take a break.”

Sigewinne accepted fate not wanting to argue it creating more of the delay. She and Ottnit left the infirmary for lunch. The room was left quiet while Y/N took inventory on the restock.

All the things that needed to be under a lock had been put away already. Next would be anything they kept out in the infirmary that should be easy to grab. Lastly, restocking the various first aid kits that were around the Fortress. Any mobile ones had been brought in already in the morning. The large stationary ones would be the last thing for today or one of the first things in the morning.

It was mindless work to her at this point. Open the box, check the inventory slip in the box, count to see if the amount matches, and mark off on the checkbox of what was requested if it matches. And if it didn’t, make a note. It was always easy to fall into the rhythm of this work.

Though a bit annoying that the monthly restock day had to line up with her mother's art studio move. There really wasn’t much she could do about it since she wanted to be there for both. Say she did request someone else to go down to the fortress instead of her. Y/N could imagine her coworkers on the surface asking if something was wrong with her and Wriothesley’s relationship. And as funny as it was to watch some of the older ladies try and make threats about if he dared hurt her, there really was no reason to rile them up with nothing.

Y/N finished up the box she had been working with. It was just bandages of different sizes. Luckily everything was all in there. She picked the box back up off the table and placed it within the pile of boxes that had already been checked. She picked up a new box, beginning to repeat the process all over again.

She lost count on the box filled with sterilized gloves when she heard the all-so-familiar knock at the wall. It was a firm but gentle knock that echoed throughout the infirmary.

“Hey.” Wriothesley introduced himself as he made his way down into the room. “By any chance is the hydrogen peroxide already out?”

“The current bottle doesn't have a lot in it but it is out. What happened?” Y/N turned away from the box and moved to get out what he asked for along with some cotton balls and bandages, opting for what was already out in the infirmary.

“There was a fight that broke out and I went to break it up. One guy was upset I was breaking up the fight, so he tried taking a knife out on me. I broke a knife. Now the guards got an eye on the two of them.” Wriothesley explained. He was peeling off the blood-soaked wraps that were around his right hand.

Y/N blinked. “You can't say you broke a knife so casually.” It was moments like that where she knew she still wasn't fully used to his behavior. It didn't matter how long she had known him before they began dating, it wasn't normal to hear anyone say they broke a knife in a fight. She moved into washing her hands.

“No, ‘Are you okay’?” He threw the wraps away in a bin that was meant for Anything that came in contact with any sort of bodily fluids. Also known as the bloody cotton and bandages bin to most of the Fortress. All because they were however many miles under the ocean didn't mean they got to skip important procedures to help keep things safe.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh, I'm sorry.” She spoke sarcastically as she dried off her hands. “Your Grace, does your wound cause you great pain? Whatever will I do now that you are gravely injured?”

“Gravely! Shit. It's just some cuts on my palm. Where did you get ‘gravely’ from? It won't kill me.”

“Oh, so you can handle it yourself.” She teased as she pulled gloves on getting ready so she could examine the wound.

“Some nurse you are. I thought going to the infirmary was supposed to be welcoming.”

“That's what you get for asking a pharmacist to be a nurse. I'm nowhere near as welcoming.” She joked. “Go sit on the bed.” She moved fast grabbing a clean pair of tweezers.

“Already sitting down Miss.” He spoke in a smug tone she was all too familiar with.

“If you can recognize that you should already be sitting down I would hope you should recognize that you should be more careful.” She turned around and moved towards Wriothesley. Y/N grabbed his wounded hand. She began picking out any small shards of the knife that had gotten stuck within. Luckily not too many. None were deep within the palm as well.

“I can only try to be more careful so much. If you think about it, I helped you not have to deal with an inmate who had a stab wound on restock day. While everyone but you is out for lunch.” Wriothesley reasoned. He looked at the wound already wondering if the count of scars on his body was about to go up.

“I'll give you that.” Y/N finished up with the first part of cleaning up the wound. She had thrown any remnants of the knife in the trash. “You know you are very lucky that Sigewinne wasn’t here to fuss over you. If I had to listen to her ‘I helped raise you, the least you could do is be careful’ lectures while trying to count and move things around, I might go insane.”

Wriothesley rolled his eyes as he laughed. “Yeah.” He drew out the word with a bit of tiredness. “I guess I should thank you for not telling her.”

“Shit.” It was half a response from the hydrogen peroxide touching the new wound and half from what Y/N had said. He thought he was more used to the sting of his wounds being cleaned by now. “Can’t you just let this slide?”

Y/N raised her eyebrow as she began to dab the hydrogen peroxide onto some cotton balls. “I never said I wasn't going to tell her. If I remember right, which I know I'm remembering right, I still have to write this up in your medical file. No exception for staff. Even if you are the Warden, she’s going to find out regardless.”

“You created more work for me on restock day and think I’m gonna let this slide. After I’m done with this I get to go move a whole art studio.”

“Don’t I get special privileges?”

“Everyone with a title is gonna get the same treatment from me. You forget that?” The blood had been cleaned off his hand. And with the wound clean she could begin focusing on wrapping up the wound on his palm.

“I was going for boyfriend privileges.” Wriothesley continued to try and wiggle his way out of Sigewinne learning what happened.

“I am on the clock and not on break so no special treatment. You lost special treatment the moment you walked into the infirmary. If it's serious enough to seek medical care, it's serious enough to be written in your medical file.” 

“Usually I'm very glad that you take your job seriously.”

“Cause it's my job and it would be inappropriate to change procedures just because the patient is you.” Y/N finished wrapping up his palm leaving him plenty of room to move his hand around but keeping the bandages tight enough to stay on throughout the day. “Change the bandages 3 hours from now. You can either do it yourself or have Sigewinne do it for you.”

Wriothesley moved his fingers around testing how much movement he would have. “Thanks, doll. You sure I can't get you to change it instead?”

“I just said I have to go move an art studio later.” She began putting away anything unused that was okay to keep before throwing everything else out. “Or were you not paying attention to what I was saying?”

“I was. You know I could go and help you if you want.” Wriothesley offered. 

Y/N looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Art Studio. As in my mother's art studio.”

“Yeah. You managed to get a photo out of me and you've been saying that your mother wants to meet me. Every time you’ve tried to set up, something has always come up and if I go with you, then you won’t have to worry if I’m using my right hand or not.” He reasoned. It may have also been a bit of quick thinking to avoid disappointing Sigewinne over that he got hurt again. Two birds with one stone kind of thinking.

“But I was thinking like a dinner so we could all get to talk.” She threw out her gloves before moving to sit on the bed on Wriothesley’s left side. “How are we supposed to talk if we are just packing and moving boxes Ri?”

“I could help, go pick up some food for everyone so you don’t have to sit at a restaurant.” He put his arm around Y/N pulling her closer and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Plus it’s my non-dominant hand that’s hurt so I can still help you.” 

“I’ll just have to take you two out to eat after.” He offered.

“I’m already going to be tired after this and I’m just going to be exhausted after helping her move. I’m not going to want to sit down somewhere for dinner.” Y/N argued.

“What if I’m so tired I don’t even want to talk while we eat?”

“I’ll just carry you to your apartment afterward if you are so tired. Quit worrying your pretty little head over it. You need the brain power for more important things.”

It was a well-needed reminder for her. Sometimes it was just too easy to get caught up in worry. “You must really like me a lot if you are willing to carry me like a sack of potatoes.”

Wriothesley laughed. “I was thinking more like a piggyback ride but if you want to be carried like a sack of potatoes, I can. We really should talk about how you not so secretly want me to manhandle you.” He teased.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I have work.” 

“I’ll get you after your shift then. We can go up together.” He gave her a quick peck on the lips before standing up from the bed. “You can't go on about how much you want your mother to like me and when the perfect opportunity for a good impression comes up, try and stop me from meeting her.”

“But what if it ends up not being perfect?” She looked up at him. “I really care about you. I want my mother to like you. I want my family to like you.”

“Which is why I’m offering to help with a move. Even then if you keep planning for perfection, nothing will get done. You know that.”

“I know not everything can be perfect. I’ve made my peace with that. But I want this to be perfect.” She stood up looking at him. “I want something good for you outside of here as well.” 

“Don’t worry about things like that. Life is good for me now.” He sighed. “It’s not like anything is forcing me to be here all the time. I know there’s good outside. What's bothering you?”

She sighed. “You remember when I said I was volunteering as the person to come down here to help was just to try something new right?” Y/N started as she began to give the real reason.

“Yeah. It's kind of what we encourage here.”

“Well, I got out of a really bad breakup. And my family was just telling me that person wasn't good.”

“You never told me how bad.” He did remember a mention that she got out of a relationship around two and a half years ago when they first met. She never said much about it and who was he to press her about it back then? 

“I was engaged. I almost signed a lease on a new house with them when everything went down. I just feel like I got blindsided by the show they were putting on. If I listened to my family then everything would have been better for me.” She took a deep breath. “So if they like you, nothing like that will happen to me again.”

“And here I was thinking you were just worrying to worry.” Wriothesley shook his head at himself. “Look, I can't control how people are going to view me. And you can't control if your mother will like me or not.”

“I know that. I just want this to be good. I mean I wanted her to like you even before we started dating. You kind of started to become important in my life.” Y/N looked away from him. “Like I think even after I got that breakup, you were definitely part of the reason I stayed.”

“It's going to be okay. It may not be some storybook picture of perfection but it's going to be better if you try and focus on the good.” He placed his left hand on her shoulder trying to ground her back to reality. “What did you say a few weeks ago? I think you said she would steal a single mora to get thrown in here if she didn't get the chance to meet me at this rate.”

Y/N laughed. “Yeah. I had to tell her that's a horrible idea.”

“It's going to be okay.”

She nodded as she spoke. “Okay.” She looked into his eyes falling into the comforting gaze that looked back at her.

“I'll get you after your shift. I still have to fill out paperwork cause of that fight.” Wriothesley kissed her forehead. “I know it's easier said than done, but try not to overthink it.”

“And if I do?”

“Then we will have to find a way to stop you from thinking about that specifically.”

“It better not be by giving me work. Cause I'm going to be so tired tonight.” She looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not cruel. I was thinking of making sure you aren’t alone so you don't fall back into your worries. At least so someone can pull you back out if you do.”

“Well, Sigewinne and Ottnit should be back soon. So I won’t be alone for too long.”

“You ate lunch already?” Wriothesley asked.

Y/N looked away again. “I ate a late breakfast so I was going to eat lunch once they got back.”

“In here?” He asked concerned. “What happened to only eating in here when there is only one person available?”

“I was actually going to go out to the cafeteria. I didn't bring anything down for lunch today.” It was a break from her normal habit, mostly because she forgot to grab her lunch before leaving her apartment in the city. The sandwich that she made that now sat in her kitchen would be dearly missed.

Wriothesley sighed. “Guess I'll have to take the important job of keeping you company during lunch.” 

“Don't you also have work?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“For one, I’m in charge of this place. And two, I still have to eat lunch myself. Also, I think the Fortress can handle itself while I take care of you. I think people know well enough to only disturb me when I'm with you if it's important.” It was something that he noticed was happening long before the two of them got together. It was already common for people would keep their distance due to their various reasons. It must have been learned to give the two space after people had noticed that Wriothesley’s mood would sour when he had to leave for something that didn’t even require his attention.

“Makes me wonder what your definition of important is now.”

“At the moment, it's keeping you out of your worry spiral. Generally a mix of other things, but the only thing taking me away from you is if something requires my attention to be handled. You are at the top of the list at the moment.” Oh, she just wanted to be in his arms after that. 

“The top of the list?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Are these girlfriend privileges?”

Wriothesley laughed remembering what he said not so long ago. “You can call it that if you want. I would have done this for you regardless though.”

Y/N gave in, finally hugging him. Maybe things would be okay.

[redmyeyes]

point, game, set, match

i. POINT

“Make him come,” Tashi tells Art.

She’s gotten them to the bed. Through the awkwardness of the aftermath, the trophy presentations, the car ride back that felt an hour long, the conversation with her mother with the two of them standing right there, thanks Mom, we’re just going to celebrate Art’s victory, would you mind putting Lily to bed?

Her boys could wait, they’d been trained well. Or, Art had been trained well. He took to anticipation like a duck to water. Master of the slow game, Art. Patrick, it just fired up. The moment they’d leapt into each other’s arms across the net, they’d all known this was where the evening was leading. And now she’s gotten them to the bed. Finally. A nice, wide king, rather than two queens pushed together.

She leans back on her elbows, deliberate echo of their aborted first time—Art on her right, Patrick on her left. “Think I’m joking?” she says to the hesitant look on Art’s face. No easy warm up here. They’ve been edging all day, and they need to dive straight into round one before the tension shatters them. Besides, Patrick’s always needed a quick orgasm to take the edge off before he really heats up.

“He’s been a good boy, hasn’t he?” she asks Art. “Coming back to us. You’ve both been such good boys. So make him come.” She turns to Patrick. “You. Don’t come.”

She scoots back further, so there’s only the slim line of her crossed calves between them. Art looks at Tashi. Patrick looks at Art. Art looks at Patrick. He leans across the barrier, cupping Patrick’s jaw in his hand, and kisses him.

The kiss hangs suspended for a minute, then it’s fevered, then soft. Finally Patrick pulls back and his eyes are glazed with tears or lust or both, and the corner of his mouth curls up in that familiar smartass smirk and he says, “Gonna make me come with just your mouth?” And Art smiles and slides off the bed to his knees in front of him.

Art’s always been so obedient. And Patrick’s always loved Art.

Art sits back on his heels, hands on his thighs, cool, like he’s assessing where to place the serve. Patrick’s practically vibrating with tension and looking down at Art with this expression of near wonder on his face. Art’s lips quirk. He grabs the back collar of his shirt and pulls it off.

He makes Patrick look, holds his gaze. Then he pulls Patrick’s shoes off. Left foot. Then right. Left sock. Right. Slides his hands slow over Patrick’s knees and up his thighs, under his athletic shorts. Hairy legs, not like hers, and she watches him absorb the difference with his fingers. Reverent.

And then he noses into Patrick’s crotch, hungry, mouthing, and Patrick’s hand slaps down on his head, fingers sliding through hair, fisting. Advantage, Art.

Art grins, pulling off enough to get his hands on Patrick’s hips, to slide his shorts and boxers off when Patrick lifts for him.

Tashi slides behind him, spreads her legs to pull Patrick back between them, crooks her finger at Art to come closer. Lips on the shell of Patrick’s ear, she watches alongside Patrick as Art crawls between their bare legs, lips skimming their way up Patrick’s inner thigh.

“Don’t come,” she reminds him, pulling his shirt off and holding him back against her.

[cielcreations]

Spectrum's Doll (VSAU Story)

Based off/Inspiration from the amazing @rhapsoddity and their Vigilante Sheriff AU as well as their Head Empty Sheriff AU! Their art and story is just *chef's kiss* Definitely check them and their stuff out, it's amazing and lovely and I just can't get over it.

Also, implied hermit/empireshipping in this story. Nothing too drastic, just characters mentioning how they were exes or how they like each other, but still, it's there.

Also, also, TRIGGER WARNING: Hypnosis/Mind Control. That's kinda the whole point of this story. Cool? Cool.

When Stratos asked Sheriff for help in finding Sausage, he didn't think he would have to make a trade, intentionally or not.

Sheriff tied the llama hybrid up, the man struggling the whole time.

"Are your informants really reliable? It just seems like no one is here." Stratos asked, "Well, besides Spectrum's minions."

"Yes, I'm sure my information is correct, my informants wouldn't give me false info or lie." Sheriff said. They may be pigeons, but they see everything. He thought. He put the llama hybrid against the wall, who continued to struggle.

"You won't get away with this." The man hissed.

"Hey, that's my line!" Sheriff teased, taking out a deputy's badge sticker and sticking it on his head, "Boop!"

Stratos rolled his eyes before he and Sheriff moved to the next room of the warehouse. It was dark, making the two already on edge. Suddenly, a single light flipped on, revealing Sausage.

"Sausage!" Stratos ran over.

"Wait, Stratos, be careful, I don't like this! It could be a trick!" Sheriff exclaimed, taking out another lasso.

"Oh, don't be uptight, it's Sausage, he wouldn't hurt-" Stratos stopped in his tracks as the brunette lifted his hand, a large vine nearly stabbing him but only brushing past his cheek, "-me..."

"What the-?!" Sheriff watched as Sausage began to fight Stratos, the hero dodging and yelling at the other to stop. He took out his grabbling hook, spinning it in his hand, "That's Sanctuary's power! How could Spectrum use it? Unless Sausage is- oh god, that would make sense, but then why-"

"Too many questions~" Someone whispered in his ear, hugging his arm and wrapping their arm around his shoulder, "Don't worry that pretty little head of yours~ Just sink deeper and listen to me~"

Sheriff blinked as the colors in the room began to blur. He groaned and pulled away from the person quickly. His vision was slightly clouded by a mix of colors, but he fought against it, seeing the colorful villain. He had teal hair with heterochromia eyes, one teal and one orange. He wore a simple black bodysuit with a chest window, black jeans, and a colorful jacket, his black mask covering his face.

"Woah man, take me to dinner first!" Sheriff laughed, trying to ground himself.

"Gladly!" The villain, Spectrum, smiled, "But I don't think this location is very fitting!"

The colors moved and Sheriff saw tables and chairs appear around them. He groaned, holding his head and focusing on Spectrum. If he did that, he could see the warehouse, he could hear Stratos's yelling and Sausage using his power. He needed to focus.

"I-I'm flattered, but one shouldn't mix work with play-!" He groaned.

Spectrum stepped forward, "Awwww, come on handsome, a little break wouldn't-" He gasped, stepping back to dodge one of Sheriff's punches, the dirty blonde dropping his lasso and grappling hook, "Oh, so you like it rough, huh?"

"Gotta keep you on your toes, don't I?" Sheriff chuckled, trying to punch him again.

Spectrum dodged. Sheriff couldn't tell if he was moving slower or if Spectrum was just that fast, but he kept trying to hit him. He focused on fighting Spectrum, the villain seeming to get more bored by the minute.

"You know, I'm surprised and impressed you managed to endure this for so long!" Spectrum cooed, stepping out of the way.

Sheriff panted, smirking, kind of proud of himself, "Yeah, well, I know villains like you prefer a show and I don't mind an audience!"

Spectrum again dodged, managing to get behind Sheriff, "That's cute, but we should really wrap this up." He kicked the dirty blonde in the back, Sheriff stumbling and falling to his knees, "I don't do this for everyone, but you're quite a special case!"

Spectrum moved in front of Sheriff, cupping his cheeks, "Now, do me a favor and scream."

Sheriff gasped as he was blinded by colors, a voice in his head telling him to give in, to let go, to relax, to let Spectrum in. He tried to resist it, he tried to think of things to ground himself. Norman, Flick, he two cats. Grian, his awesome brother when he's not being annoying. Sausage, Sausage still needs help! And Stratos needs him and-

"Stop thinking. You don't need to. Let me do all the work." Spectrum's voice rang in his head.

Tears formed in Sheriff's eyes as they fluttered. He tried to fight back, but the voices telling him to give in overtook him. He closed his eyes as tears ran down his cheeks.

Spectrum groaned, holding his head as he looked down at the dirty blonde, Damn, why did I have to use so much power on him?! He thought. He stared down at the other and smiled, cooing as he wiped the tears away. Sheriff's blue eyes were glowing purple, a blank look on his face.

"Nothing but a cute little doll." He giggled before looking at Sausage and Stratos.

Spectrum smirked, picking Sheriff up bridal style before slipping out of the room. He blinked and laughed, seeing the llama hybrid still struggling in the ropes.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up! Your arm candy is stronger than he looks!" The brunette hissed.

"Oh, I know, trust me, Owen." Scott walked over, using a knife to cut him loose, "Come on, I got what I want. The hypnosis on Sausage will wear off the farther I get away."

Owen looked at Sheriff in his arms, "Oh my god, you must've used a lot of power. There are no thoughts behind those eyes!"

"That's the point!" Spectrum chuckled, "He was really good at resisting, even tried to put up a fight. But when I finally got him to stop thinking, he finally was mine!"

The two continued chatting, slipping into the night, disappearing with Sheriff.

***

"Home sweet home, my doll!" Spectrum giggled as he placed the dirty blonde on his bed, Owen rolling his eyes.

"I'm stealing your bathroom for an hour." He grabbed his civilian clothes, walking to the door.

"That's fine! I'll be here!" Spectrum giggled as the brunette closed the door. He smiled, removing his mask and jacket, placing them on a chair.

"Yo, Scott, I heard Owen." His bedroom door open as his sibling came in, "How did- oh, you got him."

"Xornoth, this is Sheriff!" Scott exclaimed, making Sheriff turn to face his sibling, "Sheriff, say hi!"

Sheriff lifted his hand and waved a bit.

Xornoth rolled their eyes, "Whatever. Just keep an eye on him."

"I will! He's going to just be either arm candy or a doll!"

"Yeah, I get that, but you also let your toys wander, sometimes. Just keep him away from my stuff."

"I will, geeeeez!"

"You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I-"

"Scott." Xornoth looked at him, raising an eyebrow, "Are you okay? Injured? Broken?"

Scott chuckled, "I'm fine, Xornoth. Head hurts a bit from using too much of my power, but I'm fine."

"Kay. Just making sure." Xornoth waved, "Alright, I'm going back to terrorizing 10 year olds."

"Have fun!" Scott called as they shut the door and left.

Scott then changed into some pajamas before facing Sheriff, who was still staring at where Xornoth once was. He chuckled, tilting his head to face him. He removed the dirty blonde's hat, vest, and scarf, placing them on a chair before opening his closet.

"What to put you in...?" He hummed, "Hmmm... I mean, I could leave you in boxers, what do you think?" He chuckled, laughing at his own joke.

"Mmmn-"

Scott turned and saw Sheriff's face was twisted.

"H-H-Huuuh-"

"Shhhhhhh~" Scott cooed, quickly closing the distance between them, holding the other's cheeks, "No thinking for you~ Just sit there looking pretty~"

Sheriff slipped easily, his face relaxing as he once again fell under Scott's control. Damn, even now, he's still trying to fight. I have to watch what I say and order of him if me asking what he thinks can bring him back. Scott turned back to the closet, deciding a clean white shirt was all Sheriff needed.

He unbuttoned the dirty blonde's shirt and widened his eyes. Winged... surgery scars...? He looked at Sheriff's back, eyes getting bigger, Small canary wings...?! Scott was in shock before he gently removed Sheriff's mask.

"Holy- Is that-?!" Scott cupped the dirty blonde's cheeks before smiling brightly, "Oh, my god! Jimmy Solidarity Gaming is Sheriff, aye?! That's so cool! No wonder I like you so much!" He then put the new white shirt on the dirty blonde, unbuttoning and removing his jeans, "We sure live in a small world, huh? That's crazy! I can't believe you became a vigilante! And a confident flirter too! I guess that's my doing, you're welcome everyone! I mean, I am sorry I have to take this handsome hunk off the streets, but he's miiiiiiine~!" Scott giggled. 

Owen walked out, sighing, "Alright, I'm done.

"Thank you so much for your hard work, Own! You're dismissed, minion!" Scott teased, playfully clapping his hands together, "That will be all!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going!" Owen laughed, waving as he left, "See ya tomorrow!"

"See ya!" Scott chuckled.

He smiled, looking at Solidarity's face, still blank. He gently laid the other down laying beside him.

"Cuddle me."

The dirty blonde did.

Scott smiled, "So handsome, doll. And all mine. Go ahead and sleep."

Solidarity's eyes fluttered closed and Scott smiled. He turned off the lights and fell asleep himself.

***

Stratos paced, biting his bottom lip, occasionally biting his nail anxiously, his whole body stiff.

"Stratos, please calm down..." Sanctuary tried.

"I-I just can't, I'm sorry!" Stratos groaned, "I-I mean, Sheriff helped me find you and now Spectrum has him! He's been missing for three weeks and-"

"Excuse me!" The two turned as two heroes came towards them, the avian placing down the brunette, "Stratos, Sanctuary, pleasure to see ya!"

"Hey, Hotguy, Cuteguy." Stratos smiled.

Sanctuary waved a bit, "Thanks again for the help, Hotguy!"

"Of course. Actually, speaking of help, um... Cuteguy?"

The dirty blonde seemed hesitant, nervous even, anxious? "...Um, well... I was wondering, do you guys happen to know someone in your civilian forms? His name is Jimmy or he sometimes goes by Solidarity?"

"Yeah, we do! Why?"

"He's missing."

"WHAT?!" The two yelled.

"Wait, wait, wait, how do you know this?!"

"Well, Solidarity is m-"

"What he means to say-" Hotguy interrupted, "-is that Cuteguy and Solidarity are really close in civilian form!"

"Uh, yeah, right!" Cuteguy exclaimed, "Anyways, I went to check on him two weeks ago cause he wasn't answering me and we had plans, but he wasn't there. I tried calling, texting, calling his and my friends, no one knew. I looked everywhere and his cats..." He sighed, "His cats kept meowing and whining at me. I fed and gave them water and they acted like they hadn't been fed in days. Which is just not Solidarity! He would never just disappear on me! And he loves those cats more than anything, he would put them over everything else in an instant! There's no way he would just abandon them!"

Sanctuary nodded, standing up, "Listen, we'll help you find Solidarity, but can you guys help us find Sheriff?"

"Sheriff? The vigilante?" Hotguy asked, "Isn't he, like, your archenemy, Stratos?"

Stratos looked away, "I owe him. He awas the one who helped me find Sanctuary, but... Spectrum took him while I got Sanctuary back. He's been missing for three weeks."

Cuteguy flapped his wings, beginning to fly, "Okay, so Solidarity and Sheriff, right? I'll do a sweep of the city again, just to make sure neither of them are hiding in plain sight and we just overlooked them."

"I'll come with." Stratos flew to stand (float?) beside him.

"Hotguy and I will ask if anyone has seen them and for details. We'll meet up in a couple hours."

The four split up and began searching.

As the sun began to set and the moon rose, the sky darkened. Stars shined in the night sky as the four met up once more, sharing what little information they had. No one has seen either of the men, and no one had any idea where they could possible be.

"Uggggh!" Cuteguy groaned, "Dammit!"

"Woah, calm down Cute-"

"Don't tell me to calm down, Hotguy!" The dirty blonde hissed, "Ti- Jimmy is missing and no one has seen him, he just poofed out of existence and I can't do anything about it."

"Actually, I know where he is."

The four turned and immediately became on edge.

"Hephaestus!" Stratos glared, "What're you doing here?!"

"Not here to fight!" The redhead exclaimed, "Temporary truce?"

"Yeah right-"

"I know where Sheriff and possible Solidarity is being held."

The four widened their eyes and looked at each other, before back at the redhead.

"And why should we trust you?!" Sanctuary exclaimed.

"Spectrum kidnapped you as part of his big plan, knowing Stratos would come for you. And Sheriff being Sheriff helped Stratos saved you, but Spectrum now has him. Right?"

"How do you know all this-"

"Doesn't matter, he took Sheriff and he also has Solidarity, but I don't exactly know where he's keeping him since I've only seen Spectrum lugging Sheriff around."

"If you know this, why ask us to help you?" Hotguy questioned.

Hephaestus looked away, "Well... truth is, me and Sheriff have some... history. We know each other in our civilian forms but our relationship is... complicated." He looked at them again, "But that doesn't matter. Spectrum has him deep under hypnosis and I won't be able to bring him back alone. Even if I could, I doubt he'd listen to me. I need your help to bring him back. And I can help you find Solidarity."

Cuteguy bit his bottom lip. He summoned an axe and pointed it at the other, "If you're lying, I will actually kill you."

"Noted. Now, come on, this way."

Hephaestus led the way, the four heroes following him, albeit from a bit of a distance. They arrived at a warehouse, the five standing on the roof and looking through the roof windows. The lights showed Spectrum, his orange clad sidekick, and a dirty blonde sitting on a box.

"Who-"

Hephaestus broke the window with his giant robot hands and fell through, glaring, "Spectrum, give Sheriff back."

"Hephaestus..." Spectrum glared, "I should have know you would find me eventually, you've always been obsessed with Sheriff."

"I'M OBSESSED?!" The redhead growled, pointing at the other, his giant robot hand doing the same, "You made a whole plan to kidnap a hero, just in case Sheriff would show up as support, and then kidnapped him instead so you can have some fake boyfriend!"

"Oh, he's not fake, he's my real boytoy!" He then looked at Sheriff, smirking, "Right, dollface?"

Sheriff merely nodded, blank face.

"Son of a-"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Stratos yelled as the heroes stoof beside Hephaestus, "That's Sheriff?!"

The dirty blonde's hair was brushed back, a little diamond clip holding back his bangs. He wore a simple sleeveless black bodysuit with black arm bands, black jeans, purple boots, and a purple belt.

Hotguy drew his bow, Cuteguy summoning a weapin beside him, "You and your sidekick surrender now, Spectrum. It's five against two, you're outnumbered."

"You're right, we are outnumbered, but you're mistaken. It's five against three." Spectrum smirked, "Handsome, take care of Hephaestus and Stratos for me."

Sheriff stood and unlatched a black lasso from his belt, spinning it.

"Sheriff, listen to me, you don't-"

The dirty blonde interrupted Sanctuary by wrapping the lasso around Stratos and throwing him into Hephaestus.

"Sheriff, stop-!" Cuteguy called before he noticed the colors start to move. He groaned, closing his eyes as he flew up, "Hotguy, be careful!"

Hotguy seemed unaffected by the colors, smirking, letting his vex wings out, "Sorry, colorful man, doesn't affect me."

"That's fine, I got three of you distracted." Spectrum smirked, "Orange, take care of Sanctuary."

"You got it!" The llama hybrid snickered.

Spectrum took out a knife, Hotguy trying to shoot at him, trying to disorientate him. Spectrum easily dodged it and got close, trying to slash at the other. Cuteguy kicked Spectrum back, the colorful villain looking at the avian and trying to manipulate him. Cuteguy groaned and held his head, closing his eyes once more. It was a dance of Hotguy and Spectrum fighting with one another, Cuteguy trying to step in only to close his eyes to not get effected by the hypnosis. Orange and Sanctuary got in a heated fist fight, Orange also using a knife to cut the vines Sanctuary summoned.

Meanwhile, Sheriff was using his own weapons, trying to stop Stratos and Hephaestus, mainly trying to lasso one of them and then throwing them into the other. Hephaestus stayed back, knowing how dangerous his weapons could be and mainly acting as support as Stratos tried to grab Sheriff or dodged the dirty blonde's attacks. Stratos flew forward and pinned him down on the ground, the brunette staring into Sheriff's eyes.

"Sheriff, come on! Don't let Spectrum take over you! You're stronger than this! Come on, get out of your head!" Stratos yelled at him. 

Sheriff blinked, the glow in his eyes flicking.

"Sheriff?!" Hephaestus called, kneeling beside Stratos, "Come on, Sheriff! You're an idiot, but you're not weak! Come on!"

Sheriff groaned, eyes twitching as the glowing dimmed more, "N-Nnnngh-!"

Spectrum looked over and growled. He kicked Hotguy in the stomach, the hero groaning. He then threw him towards Cuteguy, both yelping as Spectrum ran over to the other two. He manipulated the colors, Stratos and Hephaestus groaning. Spectrum pulled Sheriff away from the two, the dirty blonde groaning.

"Nnngh, w-wha-"

"Shhhhhh~" Spectrum cooed, "Shhhh, shhhh, no thinking for you, dollface~ Calm down, slip deep again~"

Sheriff panted as he tried to fight a bit, but he easily gave in, face blank once more as he once again turned numb.

"You-!" Hephaestus growled, his eyes narrowing.

"He wants to stay with me, Hephaestus. Right, Sheriff?" Spectrum stood up, holding Sheriff's hand and standing him up.

Sheriff nodded.

"See? He wants me, not you."

"That's it!" Hephaestus held one of his arms up, pressing a couple buttons, "Stratos, cover your ears."

"Huh-"

Hephaestus pressed a button and, suddenly, a loud alarm began to blare. Everyone but Hephaestus and Sheriff covered their ears. Sanctuary, however, lifted some vines up and threw Orange against the wall. Spectrum yelled, glaring at the hero. He glared and looked at Sheriff. He pulled the dirty blonde towards him whispering in his ear. Sheriff's eyes glowed a bright purple as he fell to his knees, Spectrum running towards the brunette.

Hotguy groaned and drew his bow, ready to pin Spectrum to the wall. However, before he could let go, Sheriff used his lasso to take his bow.

Hephaestus stopped the blaring, "Sheriff-"

Spectrum helped his friend up, smirking, "Good boy, Sheriff! I'll be back for you later! Do whatever you need to do, kill them if you need to."

Sheriff stood up, protecting Spectrum and Orange. He panted, eyes glowing a bright purple, twitching as he gripped his lasso tightly.

"Sorry Sheriff, not dealing with this!" Sanctuary wrapped a vine around his leg and threw him against a wall. 

The man cried out in pain, eyes closing as he fell unconscious. Stratos flew over and picked the dirty blonde up.

"Great, we got Sheriff-" Cuteguy looked at Hephaestus, "-now where's T- Jimmy?"

Hephaestus went to say something but they heard police sirens. He cursed, "Fuck, I'll go after Spectrum and Orange and get him, but I gotta go!"

"WHAT?!" Cuteguy's wings flared up as the other climbed out the roof windows, "YOU'RE LEAVING?!"

"Listen, we may have a temporary truce, but police and villains don't mix. I'll get Solidarity, you help Sheriff!" He then left.

"YOU LITTLE-" Cuteguy went to fly after him.

"Cuteguy!" Hotguy grabbed him, "He's right! He helped us find Sheriff, but the police won't care. Besides, all four of us will get in trouble if it's found out we were working with a villain."

Cuteguy's wings slowed down as he landed, "....Right. I'll stay back, explain what happened to the police, you all help Sheriff."

"I'll help you." Sanctuary stood beside Cuteguy.

Stratos picked Hotguy up, "Alright, we're heading to headquarters. See ya both later."

Stratos flew to headquarters, the two going inside and heading to the medbay. They laid Sheriff down on the bed, a staff member healing his back. Hotguy knelt beside him, holding his head in his hands. His eyes began to glow a light blue, his vex wings extending as he tried to use his magic to break Sheriff out of it. He groaned, focusing as much as he could. Suddenly, he pulled back, groaning as he held his hands.

"Hotguy?"

"I-I can't break him out of it, it's not that easy. Every time I try, I just feel Spectrum's power trying to overtake mine."

Suddenly, Sheriff's eyes shot open. He screamed and went to punch Hotguy, Stratos catching him and pinning him down. Sheriff struggled, glaring, kicking and screaming.

"C-Calm down, calm down! F-Fuck, what is going on?!"

Hotguy widened his eyes, "Spectrum's last order was to kill us..."

Stratos widened his eyes, cursing, "Sorry Sheriff." He headbutted the other, Sheriff falling unconscious again.

Hotguy picked Sheriff up, "This is going to take a lot more focus, I need to go to another room."

"What?! But, Hotguy, what if-"

"I'll be fine, I just need peace and quiet and no distractions." Hotguy reassured, going into a different room he knew had no cameras.

He locked the door behind him before he laid Sheriff on the couch, kneeling beside him. He took a deep breath, taking off his glasses. He held the other's face, closing his eyes. Light blueish-grey marks appeared around his hands and eyes, his vex wings extending slightly. His eyes glowed a bright blue as he completely focused on the dirty blonde's mind. I should be able to reach in, weave some memories together and bring him back up. Hotguy thought.

He was inside Sheriff's mind, tugging and pulling memories of the vigilante messing with Stratos, the vigilante saving the day and catching the bad guys, the vigilante... talking to some pigeons? Oh, and there he was, helping Stratos find Sausage and then there he was, talking with Spectrum and fighting his control. Finding those seemed to break Spectrum's hold a bit, as he heard the dirty blonde groan. He ignored it, focusing more. He reached deeper into Sheriff's mind, pulling more memories up, these ones more specific.

Sheriff seeing a little girl crying. The girl was lost, she couldn't find her mom or dad. So, Sheriff picked her up, calmed her down, even bought her some ice cream, before helping her retrace her steps. The girl's mom and dad were extremely grateful, thanking the man profusely. He just smiled and reassured them it was no trouble.

Sheriff almost getting caught by Stratos after helping catch a bank robber. The brunette had grabbed Sheriff's wrist, attempting to get the dirty blonde to put them behind his back. Sheriff merely spun them around, telling Stratos he loved to dance and to just ask next time. That flustered the hero and he let go, allowing Sheriff to run and playfully wink.

Sheriff arriving home. In a... familiar home. Sheriff taking off his mask, hat, and scarf, setting them down on a familiar table... Sheriff walking down a familiar hallways, two familiar cats running over and greeting him. He picked the cats up, went into a familiar bedroom, and took out his phone. He sat on the familiar bed, turned on the camera, made it face him and-

JIMMY?! Hotguy gasped as he stared at the memory playing out, O-Oh my god, no wonder Sheriff and Solidarity went missing around the same time, they're the same person! Wait, fuck, Hephaestus says he knows who Sheriff is, meaning he knows that- Oh god, no wonder he ran! He wasn't going to reveal who Sheriff was! Oh god, what am I suppose to tell Cuteguy?! 'Hey, your missing brother? Turns out, he's a vigilante! In fact, he's Sheriff! So we found both, hurray!' Oh god, if Grian ever found out, he would kill Jim for doing something so dangerous! Hotguy groaned, shaking his head, Focus. Focus, it's okay. Just... focus.

***

Sheriff's eyes fluttered open, his head pounding, body aching. He groaned, looking around the room. He saw he was in some sort of office and-

Dollface~

He gasped, sitting up straight, looking around. 

"Hey, you're-" 

Sheriff stood and out his fists up, glaring.

"H-HEY! I come in peace!"

"Wh-What the?! Hotguy?! Where am I?! Where's Sp-" Sheriff stopped himself and shook his head, "Where's the villain?!"

Hotguy smiled kindly, sitting down and patting the seat beside him, "He's not here. It's just you and me. Sit."

"...Am I being arrested?"

"No, not at all. Just sit."

Sheriff hesitated, but did so.

"Listen, so..." Hotguy sighed, "Spectrum's grip on you was really, really, really strong."

"Yeah, I know." Sheriff hugged himself a bit, "I... I would try to fight it, but he would just... I don't know. I don't remember anything. I just remember his voice..."

Hotguy nodded, "Yeah, I know, I could tell. See, because Spectrum's grip on you was so tight, it wasn't as simple as me just challenging the power. I tried that, but his last order was to kill us, so when it didn't work, you woke up and tried to kill us."

"'Us?'"

"Cuteguy, Stratos, Sanctuary, Hephaestus, and I all found you, but Stratos and I took you back here." He explained, "Anyways, when I realized that didn't work, I had to go deeper into your head, root around, and pull you out. And, upon doing that, I... I saw your memories. Memories of you... without the mask."

Sheriff widened his eyes and stood up, stepping back, "Y-You-?!"

"Listen, it was the only other thing I could do and I don't feel good knowing, especially under these circumstances!" Hotguy stood up as well, "I don't want to expose your identity to more people, Solidarity, it's why I took you to a private room."

"Wait, you know me?" Sheriff asked, "Like, by name?"

"Yeah, um, soooooooo-" Hotguy removed his glasses, "I may or may not live with your brother...?"

The dirty blonde widened his eyes, "...HOLY SHIT!" He sat back down with the hero, "Scar? How could I not tell?!"

"Well, to be fair, we have tech in our masks and glasses that the hero industry made. It helps conceal our identities more. So, when I put my glasses on-" He put them back on, "-the tech makes it so your brain can't accurately pinpoint features. It confuses your brain, therein making it hard for people to recognize us!"

"Yeah, that makes sense, you look completely different with those on. Weird." He leaned back into the couch before widening his eyes, "Oh my god, how long was I gone?"

"Three weeks."

"OH MY GOD-" He quickly quieted down, looking at the brunette, "Please tell me Norman and Flick are okay?!"

"Grian and I took them in when looking for you." Scar reassured, "Cuteguy and I went looking for you, er, you as in Jimmy, and Stratos and Sanctuary were looking for Sheriff."

"Oh thank goodness." The dirty blonde sighed in relief before he seemed to realize something else, "Oh god, Grian and Pearl..."

"Yeeeeeeeah, they're freaking out... Don't worry, I didn't tell them!"

"Great! Now I gotta make up how I escaped Spectrum and make it look believable..." He sighed, "So, Cuteguy and Hotguy found Sheriff, but Grian and Scar are still looking for Solidarity, right?"

"Yeah. Listen, I could sneak you out and-"

"Nah, I got this. At least Pearl is safe from all this!"

Scar smiled awkwardly, "Hehe, yeah..."

***

The colorful villain growled, tapping his foot angrily.

"Sorry man, I was care-"

"Don't apologize, Owen, Sanctuary was playing dirty."

"Thanks for saving me, Scott. Even if it meant loosing your doll."

"You're my best friend, Owen. I can capture Sheriff again. I can't replace you."

The brunette smiled up at the other, "Softie."

"Alright, next time I'll leave you." The other teased.

Owen laughed, humming, "...You know his secret identity, right? Are you going to use that to your advantage?"

Spectrum chuckled darkly, "Oh Owen..." He smirked, eyes glowing as he manipulated the colors in front of them, "Scott is going to reconnect with an old friend and see how he's doing. Whatever happens after, I can't say."

Owen just laughed.

[red-water-dragon]

Raren demonstrating a suspicious spell in front of the royal court.

visual storytelling notes:

The bg was left blank until I started painting and the elements added to the bg were designed around the character. I didn't go into this with a little synopsis of what I wanted to convey. Only an abstract idea that Raren was going to be talking to someone, figure it out later. I decided he'd be presenting a new spell in front of a political chamber because he wears a crown and a blue crystal. So he has to be of some form of nobility and magical prowess. He also has blue eyes meaning he is an ice dragon and thus its a blue spell wow. The monarchs he's addressing are left dark and disapproving in the corner while Raren powers a statue beneath them. He could be demonstrating how the spell effects the world around them, maybe it freezes the stone? maybe it brings the statue to life? Either way its primed to eat Raren's opposition. Two of the bg guys are red one is blue maybe he's an arch nemesis who knows.

Art process and wips under the cut

I'm trying and failing to get better at visual story telling while keeping things simple. My long term goal is to have a frequent and consistent posting schedule. Most of the art would be stylized and simple like this and the rest could be fully rendered.

Art has been more of a "draw what's in you head and make it look pretty/ cool to hang up later" thing to me w/ the benefit of being a good source of self reflection as I create. Writing has more so been my go to for expressing that meditation. Writing I don't share because im unnecessarily cagy abt my emotions and my harshest critic lol. I want to tell stories with my art , convey tone, feeling, etc. and right now my paintings don't do that. I don't have the technical skill yet. This painting is the first of many to come that will hopefully change this.

The texture in this is chaotic and the line work is rough. Raren is the only part of this with a full sketch. All other line art was added to create the illusion of detail. There is less attention on rendering each section and more being put into the placement of characters and props. I had hoped this would make the painting go faster and...it has the potential to do so in the future. Sooo a piece that could have taken a couple hours took a whole day.

While im not overly thrilled with the final image im still happy about the process. Normally the dragon would be the only real focal point in my painting with the bg being a gradient, or a simple theme added last second. Conveying a message is more work but it gives more cool things for the eye to look at and the mind to ponder. So in theory even if the final result is aesthetically unappealing the theme can still salvage the work a bit.

what this taught me:

sketchy line work is passable in the final image

it can even add character to the art

plants are a great way of filling space without actually doing so

(hence the wip of the room looking empty af with out them)

the more clothing and eye candy you put on your character the more clutter you have to add to the bg to balance it out

the main oc was sketched the bg was painted on the fly

doing so saved time but harmed the natural flow of the piece

all of the storytelling is happening in quarters and it is almost abrasive to look at

what ill try in the next piece:

perspective guides

less shading and rendering

find a color palette to stick to

or work in greyscale first

write a little picture synopsis

or pick a theme

just find something that acts as a story guide

sketch out bg elements

toy around with the sketch more before moving to painting