#just a doodle to test out a couple new brushes

[putuponpercy]

"And me, Sir?" The Fat Controller faltered. "Oh, erm... Well I'm afraid I haven't got anything for you at the mo'. Tell you what, get ye'self home, pop you feet up and I'll give you a bell when a job pops up." Edward nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He opted to stay quiet on how the Fat Controller had told him the same thing last week.

[noname-nonartist]

An would punch transphobes to protect Mizuki

But yeah!

Just a couple of quick doodles since I was testing out some new brushes that I’ve downloaded! :Dc

[hnnny]

I was testing out new brushes when I did these doodles lol. I'm using a very similar pen now for all my doodles. I love how these came out too though lol.

It looks like I drew this on lined paper, but that's just a couple of line pattern brushes. Still, I love the doodle vibes :3

[robogart]

Lengthy ramble for potential tier/restructure post! But if anyone has insight or feedback or advice, I'd be so grateful to hear it! Thank you for your time! 🥺🙏💕💕💖

*copy/pasted from my patrons post!

*Stressing potential again because I might just try to workshop maybe a couple of these tiers?? I'm editing this after a couple responses so far! So thank you everyone for reading and sending your insight in! It's SO helpful and valuable to hear, thank you!! 🙏💖💖

Hey lovely people! 🥳💖 So lengthy and candid post time, but I'm thinking about restructuring the tier prices (specifically the higher tiers, like the Sauce and Honeybear and maybe sketches too)? Currently I am making very little money, so while that is scary it is also sort of the perfect time to test out some change in how I structure things on here! So I'm sort of excited to potentially try something new! The tough thing with selling your own work is always how to price things - and it's the gentle balance of pricing for what you're worth, but also making a good price point that is accessible to more people! So while prices might be lower, the hope is that they bring forward more patrons and therefore I can make more money as well! SO! A Price Restructure of what I'm thinking (and a couple rewards movements from the $2 Tier to the $4 Tier, specifically) (Also the Sweet Pea Tier will be removed) :

✨ $2/month Tier (Buttercup : same rewards, updated here for clarity (bc I need to update them as well))

Access to ALL artwork and their process GIFs as I finish them! (currently only sharing crops on social media and select, older work)

Commission and Adoptables Priority (You get to access slots/designs first!)

Access to Fanart Friday Suggestions + Polls (we try to do them once a month!)

Access to Coloring Pages (as I make them! this is infrequent)

Access to the Patron-Only Discord (it's very chill and just for you and other patrons! And you can share art, music or just hang out if you want!)

✨ $4/month Tier (Cutie Pie : same rewards!)

Access to my sketchbook pages and the bundled pdfs! I post sketches in batches of 10 on here! When I have enough pages, I'll be uploading the pdf of the sketchbook for free for you to download (100 pages per Volume)! 

Access to videos! (I'll do speedpaints/timelapses from time to time!)

15% off adoptable designs while they are posted on patreon! (before moving to ko-fi!)

Access to all Licensed Character Designs I make (under the LC tag!) (These are for Personal Use Only - intended for DnD and similar RPG situations! ^ w ^)

✨ Access to Archived Works (this is access to all previous work I've shared for the Buttercup tier that you would be able to see on my website all in one place! Goes back to 2019!) 

✨ Early Access to Brushes

Plus all previous rewards! 

✨ $6/month Tier (Honeybear : same rewards!)

Access to the Honeybear Discord! A creative motivational group for artists! (I will be active in this discord!)

Activities for personal motivation and fun! There will be blob doodle pages, monochromatic challenges throughout the month, along with a monthly design prompt and a selected study piece!

Channels for just sharing personal work/wips and a critique corner as well for anyone looking for feedback on their pieces!

Plus all previous rewards!

✨ $8/$10/$15/month Tier (Sauce : same rewards!)(edit: $10 maybe? Or even keeping at $15, based on some comments from patrons)

18+ ONLY! 

Access to ALL NSFW pieces! Sketches and finished paintings alike!

20% off Store Discount! (For my Print Shop and INPRNT!)

Plus all previous rewards! (this includes the Honeybear Tier Discord and Activities access)!

--- So this an idea of what I'm thinking!

It's all still very much up in the air because part of me wonders if I just need to promo more as well? I also have had patrons tell me in the past that I make a lot of work (even if I panic and feel like I'm not making enough @ w @;;) and that the monthly subscription is reasonable for the rewards already? Ahhh it's just difficult figuring this stuff out, especially while stressing about things! So I appreciate feedback if you're feeling up to sharing! 🙏💖💖 Thank you all so much! 💖💖💖

[sattorntempura]

Hi im not dead!

I know its November and I promised that I will upload the THINGY (and i will... hopefully LOL) - I just wanted to let y'all know that I didn't die nor abandoned it. I cleared out most of my posts relating to the comic, since I want to make a single post explaining to the new readers what to expect (also so they don't get caught off guard) and not have random posts scattered throughout the account. I feel messy if I kept it that way lol.

ANYWAY, here's some front-ish profile doodles to make up for my silence :) Half are DMC characters and the other half are Metal Gear characters

I was testing out which brushes would fit best for what. I would keep the brush I used for Virginia and Nemo for comics and all that. The other brushes that I used for the Metal Gear characters.... uh I think I would keep it if im doing more than comics, so I think I am going to keep it for fanarts and such.

OCs related to the dmc-oc comic

Unfortunately we wont be seeing behbeh-chubby Ezra(left image), not until laaaaater in the future... Or past? *snickers in the corner like a loser* Only little and big Ezra lol.

These two. Oh god. coats still in development lol.

There a couple of more OCs but its best if you guys see those once I actually upload the pages lol.

There's other canon characters that will appear, I had fun designing the ones who never made an appearance but we HAVE heard of them before. Its one of my favorite characters so far lol. Hint: Name mentioned in DMC3-ish, Drama CD, DMC4-ish and DMC5. MAJOR HINT: Trish mentioned this character in one of these lol.

There are other characters who made an appearance but it was outside of the games. I just want them to get a little more recognition too :) mainly from the anime and the manga. and maybe a few from the novels too.

Anyway see you guys again in the future of this month! Take care.

[astronomic727]

Ngl I've been feeling a bit burnt out for a while, so I figured this may be a good time for me to start periodically posting old stuff from my Instagram and Twitter accounts that I've moved on from. There will of course be new drawings/posts in between too! Just gotta recharge is all. I guess for a bit of insight, and also story time I suppose, for the past few months I've been having driving lessons and I had my test a few days ago. Thankfully, I managed to pass but I think the stress of the journey coupled with pushing two videos out a week apart, and everything else that had happened in those months took some sort of toll on me overtime. So yeah, not taking a break or anything per say, just will be posting old stuff more often so it's all archived somewhere, and to take pressure off feeling the need to upload something here and there. With these old doodle dumps I'm also probably gonna give some insight into how I feel about them from an artistic standpoint. I may have not much to say, or I may have a lot, who knows lol. Anyway to begin with the stuff in this post, it's all fairly recent. Some were Insta posts, others were Insta stories. We have Via messing with a cranky Kayleigh, the sister's parents when they were young adults (Evelyn is dirty from working on her motorbike, and Vance is working towards his degree in Astronomy), sleepy Via helping Kayleigh get ready for school, young Via and Orion, and the duo again but in 2 memes lol For how I feel about these, it's complicated... this technically goes for like most doodles I've done up to now too, but I'm not fully satisfied. I'm happy with my full illustrations, but I feel as though my doodles miss the mark. It's like a weird perfectionist mental block or something, these are only meant to be sketches but it takes me forever to do them for some reason, and also (what is probably the reason why it takes so long) that along the way my sketch lines somehow turn into lines of line art quality. But I feel this over cleanliness sucks the soul out of my doodles and makes them feel flat. More recently to combat this, I've tried to give slight shading to these doodles whether it be cel or gradient shaded, like the Fortnite or Streetview meme posts I did, but I feel like I need to embrace sketchiness more, for both time saving sake and for appeal. Maybe I also need to do some experimenting with new brushes too, idk. Maybe I'm being overdramatic lol but that's just how I've felt for a long time, and just felt like getting it off my chest. Anyhoo, enough rambling... boy, you thought I had a lot to say here? Just wait till we get to the older stuff lmao, but anyway, I'll ponder on these thoughts, but see you all until then :)

[skenpiel]

can u draw sans please

i already put my tablet down so heres a drawing i made with my mouse just now + a doodle i made like a couple months ago 2 test out my new brush LOL

[trashyandtiredsol]

Okay @kredena-dark you have unlocked an unskippable rant!!! :D

Some of this is just me explaining stuff, so don't mind that- actually idk I'm just info dumping rn, it explaining everything in full detail, but still explaining :P

Idk how long it'll be so- CUT TIME

💚Okay- posca pens!! Fuckin love those!! It's a liquid marker of sorts and there are thinner nib ones and thicker nib ones. There's also a very limited amount of color options. Which include pastel like colors, black, white, gray, silver, gold, basic color saturated colors, forgot if the green is more of a forest green or a more vibrant green tho :P

They can be so smooth and solid looking!! Which is what I like about them!! It's like markers but better!! :D

Really wanna get every single color for myself instead of only using them at school :/

💚 Woodworking has been going really great so far!! For woodworking 1 I took last year, it was introducing all the machines, taking safety tests on those machines plus ones for how to be safe in the workshop. It's where I made a box and a shelf were the drawer is now stuck in, which sucks, plus a phone holder with 2 holes for pencils.

Woodworking 2- very nice~ I'm working on another shelf, this time with 3 drawers!! And hopefully they won't get stuck :P. We also make a bowl, which I'll fully fully work on once my shelves done!! We actually learned a new machine for this!! It's able to make the wood rounded, so we can make a bowl and practice making the wood rounded.

💚Ink is a very nice tool for traditional art in my opinion!! You can put a blob of sorts and shape it however you want, then once it's dry you can use a sharpie or a pen or a fineliner sharpie pen to make something out of it :D

You can also just use the line pens and sharpies by themselves and create different values with thicker or thinner lines and I have shaky hands!! Which can really make your lines feel more organic in a way!! Also really helps me feel loose drawing!! But then sometimes it's rather annoying, like with digital art and when I want to make smooth straight and curved lines!!

💚 Speaking of digital art~

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE HOW THAT'S BEEN GOING FOR ME SINCE I'VE STARTED DIGITAL ART!! :D

I think it was..... Less than a year ago? Around that long ago :P

Anyway- I've made myself my own Sona and it's great!! My hair color and just having a pixie cut hair works quite well with the cat ears!! And all the markings and just- everything that's gone into making them has been so great~

And the art apps I use!! It took a few tries with multiple other art apps and looking up which would work for a phone and what was free to use. But I found Infinite Painter and HiPaint and they are so great!!

I found Infinite Painter first off, and it's worked splendidly and hasn't crashed or glitched on me at all!! And the brush options are so nice!! It's a great beginner digital art app, it doesn't overload you with so many brush customizations!! Even though there still are plenty of customizations, you don't have to adjust them if you don't want to!! You can just change the opacity and size of it if you want!!

And then there's HiPaint!! I REALLY like the brushes this app has, it's actually so much better than Infinite Painter!! And you can customize the stabilizer!! I currently have it a 20%. I actually thought I'd have it at some higher percentage since my hands shake, but it's quite comfortable at 20%!! I could maybe slide it to 21 -25% , just for a bit more smoothness. And- this app has glitched out once before and it wouldn't let me do anything at all!! So I tried restarting my phone a couple times and that didn't work so I uninstalled it AND I FRICKIN LOST MY PROJECTS ON IT AJSJDJFJFFKDJF that fuckin sucked, but luckily I already posted the doodles I did on there and I screenshotted the sona sketch I did, but I did loose my linework and the start of me coloring it :/. But I did redo the linework and finished it all and it looks very nice!! So didn't really lose anything permanently!! It hasn't glitch again so that's good~

💚hmmmm I'm running out of what to add!! Might just leave this as is~

Idk I wanna show this as soon as possible so I can talk more about this with you Kredena!!

(this is mainly for Kredena, but to anyone else reading, I hope you like this all!!)

Ye you know what idk what else to add, probably all my head cannons and such for every fandom I've ever been in, but I don't even remember all of that rn so- this is it I guess, maybe at least for now!! :D

💚Update: BANNER IDEAS FOR MY BLOG HERE :D

I have some very nice ideas!! There's one with my sona wearing my in progress green scarf!! There's another with a winter setting with a certain way the trees would look that I really wanna try doing!! There's a flower pattern idea for spring!! I also wanna do one with a pattern with better pumpkins and fall leaves and candy corn!! For summer I'd probably do a Sona drawing with a sunny background with my sona wearing shades and, OH OH MAYBE STANDING IN AN OCEAN!! OH I LOVE THOSE CONCEPTS SO FRICKIN MUC AJSJDDJFJajsjsjdjsffjdjAHSHDajsjdhASJDHDjajsdj!!

[jubilines]

digimon adventure 02 // episode 14 redraw

[writingsbychlo]

sun in the shadows (08)

word count; 12,516

summary; noah does his best to fit in, and it doesn’t quite go as planned, but that’s okay.

notes; it’s finally happening.

warnings; noah is a bit of a jerk, but it’s over pretty quickly.

The sun was out again, the grass was filled with people, and it seems that they had gained the good luck you had missed. This sun was bringing warmth, a radical change from only a  week ago, as your sundress today was entirely fitting. With hair clipped back away from your shoulders to keep cool and sunscreen on your bare skin to stop yourself from burning, you were soaking up the rays.

The group you were gathered with had been lucky enough to snag a table to sit out at, blankets laid out and pinned down in the light breeze by picnic blankets, shoes and rocks for those who hadn't made it to a table in time, and you didn’t envy them at all. Despite the warmth, the grass was still a little damp, mud still tar-like as it moved toward drying out, and yet the space was still heaving. It mildly resembled that of a festival or a beach on the Fourth of July.

Leaning back a little, your face tipped up to the sky, the chatter of your friends surrounding you drowning out as warmth washed over your face, lids closed but barely doing anything to block out the light, and you smiled. You loved the summer, always had, it was your favourite season. Something about the warmth, the longer nights and the smoky smell that came with barbecues or the salt of the ocean at the beach. As you sat, face directed to the sky, the sun was suddenly blocked, a cooler air falling over you, and your frowned, cracking your eyes open to see what had happened.

“Noah, hi.” You beamed, sitting up properly to turn around, and the man nodding his head, a hint of a smile on his face. A pair of dark black sunglasses were sitting on his nose, a pretty contrast to dark hair and darker denim jeans, a charcoal t-shirt on his shoulders, but there was no jacket. His bag was slung over one shoulder, and as his presence was made known, several others around the table greeted him, too. He seemed to have a warmer reaction to them, a wonderful smile as he offered his greetings, and your brows furrowed a little.

You ignored the action, despite its unfamiliarity with you. He was treating you once again like he had done months ago, when first getting to know you, a time when there was no trust built between you both. Taking a seat beside you at the table, you only just had a chance to move your skirt out of the way before he was sitting down. Swinging his bag over to the side, you waited for him to say anything else, his hands sitting atop the table as his forearms leaned on the wood, and your frown was only deepening.

Running a finger along his forearm, his face turned to you, brows rising up from behind the glasses, and a smirk on his face.

“You okay, there?” He teased, your eyes narrowing on him just a little, and his arm flexed slightly under your touch, before he was pulling his arm away from you, and the smirk on his face widened. “What? There’s something going on up there, so you might as well spill it.”

“Nothing, I guess.” Your words were mumbled out, and he only nodded, not bothering to wait for a second longer, before he was turning back to the conversation. Something within your stomach twisted. Confusion at his behaviour, uncertainty whether it was something you had done, or whether this was simply who he was when he didn’t let his anxiety get in the way. “I just thought I wasn’t seeing you until later, is all?”

“I thought I’d join you for lunch. Is that so bad?” He was grinning again, a more cocky smile than you were used to seeing from him, and on the few occasions you had seen it, it was never in a setting like this. “I thought you wanted me to get out there, make friends. Is it because I’m not all yours anymore?”

A couple of the other boys around the tables chuckled, various girlfriends and partners slapping at their arms in retaliation for the joke about being controlling, and your lips pursed into a thin line. “No. I just wasn’t expecting you, is all.”

He seemed a little taken aback by your shorter tone with him, one of your brows raising slightly in a challenge to his behaviour. Taking his glasses from the tip of his nose, he folded them in the middle, tucking them into his shirt, to rest on his colour. Sweet brown eyes were searching your own, and you shrugged a little. His smirk lessened, becoming a slight frown, and for a moment, you thought he was going to leave behind whatever it was that was wrong and let you in, but then, he was stolen away into a conversation.

Just a brief mention of his name was all that it took, and his focus was moving away from you entirely. You were glad that he had made more friends, you really were. You’d been working hard to try and introduce him to new people in a way that wouldn't spark his anxiety. Run-ins on walks the two of you shared, people you bumped into while out getting coffee or simply introducing him to someone you knew that you thought he’d get along with.

You’d seen Noah every single day for the last week, there hadn't been a moment that wen toast that the two of you hadn't been in contact, whether in person or via text. For as many days as you could count now, he was the last person you’d spoken to before going to bed, and the first person you had spoken to when waking up in the morning. He was the person who made you laugh when you were stressed, and the man who sent you recipes when you didn’t know what to cook. He was the person who sat by your side doodling on the tops of your work pages while you tried to get some studying done, before eventually distracting you enough to give up.

You couldn’t place anything you’d done wrong. The last time you’d seen him had been the afternoon before, when you’d gotten a coffee together and walked around campus, and you’d spoken to him only an hour or so ago. His behaviour made no sense to you, it was unprompted and without reason, and it was leaving the feeling of a put welling in your stomach.

The thought of it being some kind of reverse attempt at soothing his anxiety flittered over your mind, and so in an attempt to test the theory, you leaned over. Shuffling up close to his side, your arm looped through his, and he paused his speech for just a second. He’d been talking to the boy across from you both, telling them all about the renovation work he’d spent a summer doing with his dad on the house, and he turned to look at you.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. Maybe for his arm to tighten around yours, to pull you in a little closer. A smile, a kiss to your forehead, something softer than the look you got with an arrogant smirk that made you feel like you were locked out from him, and when he turned back to continue the conversation without any of the options that had run through your head, your discomfort only increased.

Your arm sagged against his, his arm flexing for a second a spike of hope raced through you. But, he was simply shifting, his arm moving away from yours in a way that made you shuffle backwards. Reaching into his pocket, he produced his phone, laughing slightly at a joke that you hadn't caught from someone else around the table, and you pulled your hand back into your lap instead of placing it back through his arm.

Everything about it made you uncomfortable. The wondering, the insecurity, the fear of having done something wrong and forced him back into his shell with you. It was enough to make you feel sick to your stomach, and despite your lingering gaze on him for minutes now, he never turned to you. Checking your phone, the afternoon was tickling on. Your lunch was passed finished, your afternoon wide open with nothing else to do, as it seemed all plans with Noah seemed to have fallen through with his new personality.

You weren’t sure what had gotten into him, the new attitude was like that of half of your exes, or your friends and the people who were around you. You didn’t mind it so much on them, of course, it would the attitude that they would greet you with, because there was nothing deeper between you with them. Every friendship you had was teasing, there was nothing that merited anymore more. With them, your physical contact was limited to that of greetings and goodbyes, hugs and the occasional kiss to the cheek.

With Noah, though, you’d felt like something was different.

You’d felt like perhaps there was something more between you both, something a little beyond simple friendship. Something flirty, the kind of sweet-like-honey feeling that made you get butterflies and have your cheeks ache from smiling, or your eyes sore from staying up late, staring at a screen in the dark just to talk to him.

Clearly, that wasn’t how he felt, too.

You tried to join the conversation, to talk to the girls around you as the men were all sucked into a chat that you evidently weren’t intended to be a part of. You could keep up for a while offering your input on everything they talked about. You liked that about the girls you were friends with, they were easy to skip between topics, moving from one thing to another with ease, and sharing gossip that they had heard.

For a while, it made you feel better, a little more comforted and a little less alone, but despite his presence right next to your side, the warmth from his body and the brief brushes of his shoulder with yours when he moved, but it only made you feel more lonely. You felt shut out, as though the cold wall that you had spent so long breaking down had shot right back up, twice as thick. You couldn't take it anymore.

Packing away your books into your bag, you stood from the table, several pairs of eyes moving to you as you stood, and you offered them all the best smile that you could muster at that moment. Once they were all sealed away, you placed your bag up on your shoulder, and your hands met the wood. Leaning over slightly, the conversation went quiet as you became the centre of attention.

“Sorry to break this up, but I got to go.” Several soft complaints came, attempts to convince you to stay, and you smiled at the effort that at least some of your friends were making. “If anything exciting happens, text me.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay? I was just thinking we should go and get some coffee, or something.”

Laurel was staring up at you expectantly, her eyes a little wider and you sighed, shaking your head. As much as you’d loved to, the bad mood you had gained from Noah’s new attitude was bringing down your social battery, and you weren’t sure how much longer you’d last. “I would, but I have some studying to do, and a couple of other things. I’ll catch up with you later, though, alright?”

There were some goodbyes, and even a hug from the girl beside you, before you were beginning to trail away from them. The chatter around the table was quickly replaced by the groups you began to weave through, a polite smile on your face to everyone you passed by as you tried not to encourage any more conversations. By the time you were reaching the edge of the grass and moving to the concrete, the heavy footfalls of another person moving slightly faster than you were catching you up.

A hand on your shoulder, pulling you lightly to a stop, and as you turned around, you yes scanned up to find the face of a man you were familiar with as your instinct kicked in, accustomed to his height by now. “Where you goin’?” He questioned, panting a little from the effort he’d exerted to catch up with you, and you tried not to scowl at him as he stared.

His face was softer now, instead of the cheeky look he’d been holding all afternoon, it was something much more genuine and earnest, the kind of look you were used to from him. It was throwing you through a loop just trying to keep up with him. “Home. I have some work to do.”

You moved again, walking away from him, and he let out a confused grunt, boots scuffling on the tarmac of the parking lot as he caught back up to you. “Wait, wait, wait. I thought we were supposed to be going to the garage? I’m working on your car tonight, I brought new bulbs for your headlights because they’re kinda’ dimmed, and I don’t want you getting into an accident or anything.”

You frowned, eyes narrowing on him for a second, and your shoulders slumped under his gaze.

“What’s wrong?” His hand reached out, trailing down along your arm towards your hand, and he had the audacity to let a hurt look flicker across his face when you pulled back from him by just a fraction. It was enough, though. Enough for his hand to fall away, his fingertips brushing over your arm, before it fell back to his side, dismay evident on his face.

“What is with this hot and cold act you have going on?” His jaw dropped, no words coming out, and heat crawled up along his cheeks slightly while he gaped at you. Instead, you took the initiative, shaking your head a little at him, and he only sank in on himself a little further. “You were so sweet this morning. The Noah I’ve come to know, and then suddenly at lunch, you’re this different person. Kinda’ a jerk, actually. Now, you’re all gentlemanly again. I don’t get you, but I don’t want to hang out with someone who’s gonna’ pick me up and drop me like a yo-yo.”

His eyes flicked over your face, lips pursing closed in a tight line, and you waited a moment longer. As the silence grew, you moved away from him, taking steps again a little further, and it was a few more seconds before he moved again. He was slower, long strides falling him into step beside you, and he didn’t try to stop you, but his head hung a little, and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, alright? But when the other Noah shows back up, let me know.”

He chuckled, dry and hollow, before he was rounding in front of you, giving you only a second to stop before you were colliding with him, and there were mere inches between your bodies. Staring up at him, your brows shot up again, and he tried to offer a gentle smile to you. “I just thought that if I acted the way your other friends acted, I’d fit in a little better, and you’d like me more.”

“You were trying to get me to like you more? By acting like a dick, and making me feel weird about ‘us’?”

“Reverse psychology?” He whispered, and he relaxed when the smile on your face came out.

“I’m the psychology major, leave that to me.” You teased, and he nodded his head. Leaning down, his nose brushed over your forehead, lips pressing to your skin in a soft kiss, the act you were used to, and you sighed as he did. “There he is.”

His hands smoothed over your sides, pulling you in closer and your hand came up to rest on his cheek. Stroking the skin across his cheekbone gently with your thumb, his head tipped into your hand.

“I don’t want you to be anyone else, okay? I like you plenty enough just the way you are.”

“You’ll still come hang out with me, then? Because it gets lonely when you don’t keep me company at the garage, now. I’ve become accustomed to having company.” He reached out again, his hand smoothing along your arm, and you didn’t pull away this time. Rather, you let his hands find yours, fingers weaving together until your palms were pressed up to one another. He smiled, something bashful and dopey, and it was an adorable kind of expression. The cold of the band he had wrapped around his thumb today was rubbing against your finger, and you squeezed at his hand. “I’m gonna’ take that as a ‘yes’.”

“‘Kay, I forgive you. Don’t get weird again, though.” He nodded his head, making you grin as he tugged you in a new direction, a ninety-degree angle to head towards the bike. He made his promise, making you grin when he held out a tattooed finger for you to link your own with, sealing the promise together.

Opening up the back-box on the bike, and pulling out your helmet. Letting you settle your things inside, he placed the helmet down on your head, pulling your hair back and out of the way. Leaning in, his lips brushed over your nose, breath panted lightly over your lips, something heavier settling over the both of you, and you couldn’t help the breathy giggle you let out.

You reached for his helmet, having learned where the catch underneath the seat was, and you opened it up to select the protection from inside. Lifting it, he ducked his head to let you place the helmet on his head, brushing back the longer strands of chocolate-brown hair to settle it there. Smoothing your fingers down along his jaw, you fastened up the catch under his chin, his head tipping up to let you do so. Before his head moved down, you shifted upward, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, and he was beaming when his head came back down.

His finger spinach the tip of your nose, between his thumb and his index, your face screwing up with a soft laugh when he did. “You’re cute, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” Swinging your leg over the bike, you settle down first, your hands landing on the steering, a dangerous look portrayed him as you smirked. “In a summer dresses and lollipops kind of way, right?”

“Mhm.” He teased, fastening your helmet up and tipping it to sit properly on your head as he stood before you. Moving his eyes further down, his sights scanned over you “You look good on my bike.”

“You should let me drive. I think I’ve got it, now. I would be awesome at this.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as you shuffled back to make space for him. With every catch done up and the boxes sealed, his leg swung over the bike, settling himself down on the leather. With the impact of him sitting, you slid down the seat, the insides of your thighs pressing to the outsides of his own, and your front was pressed to his back. His hand came out, circling behind his body to find your wrists, and he pulled your arms around his body. “If you drove, how would I get you to hold onto me like this? I like the attention, what can I say?”

“You could just ask.”

“Oh, yeah?” He twisted the keys in the ignition, the bike sparking to life underneath you, and your hands tightened a little more around him. Revving the bike slightly, he kicked off the latch that kept it secured to the ground, balancing it between his own feet as you tucked yours away. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You should.” You mumbled, chin tucked over his shoulder to whisper the words near his ear, and you could see the smile stretch on his face. Pulling back, your forehead rested between his shoulder blades, squeezing him once in signal to let him know you were ready, and then he took off.

You’d grown used to it now, the slight grind of the tyres on the concrete as he took off and then the streets whizzing by. You like the sights, the way the lights seemed to become like a blur when you moved, The tips and tilts, the way the bike bounced when you went through potholes or over the bumps in the road, it had all started to feel natural. It was the same when you were with him.

Noah had been a stranger to you, but he was a constant in your life now. He was by your side more than he wasn’t now, and you couldn't deny the bond that you’d formed with him It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. He didn’t force you to be anything you weren’t, he didn’t make you feel insecure, or less worthy, or like you had to constantly be the best version of yourself to impress him. He didn’t drain you down like others did, he didn’t make you feel less, or like you couldn't be yourself. You loved who you were around him, and how being with him made you feel.

Twisting your head, your eyes closed, cheek resting against his back as he moved. He was going slower than usual today, the journey taking a little longer, and while the quiet was filling the space between you both, it was comfortable. Everything with Noah seemed to be that way, now. The two of you were seemingly opposites, everything about you felt like something that would clash but there was just something between the two of you that worked. Like magnets drawn together, or opposing puzzle pieces, you fit together perfectly.

He forced you out of your comfort zone, to do things like ride a motorbike while you forced him to approach the people he’d seemingly decided hate him, only to discover he was capable of making friends. Each of your downfalls, he seemed to lift up. One by one, he was raising you up, making you a better person, and giving back to you just as much as you gave to him. It was effortless to be around him, something that had happened both slowly and at light speed. Winning his trust had turned into so much more, once the door had been opened, it was like the two of you had moved past acquaintances and friends, to hover on the verge of something else.

He was constantly on your mind, and when he wasn’t, it didn’t take long before you saw something that reminded you of him, a joke or a comment online, even just the way someone would walk across campus or the outfit they’d wear, it all seemed to come back to him.

When the pair of you had finally pulled up to the edge of his garage, he was cruising slowly between the sheds. More doors than usual were open today, the crowds were a little busier, but with the sunny weather, you weren’t so surprised. The tones of different music melded together, more students willing to come and spend prolonged periods of time outside when the weather was warm, and the days lasted longer.

Setting up the stand on the bike, your feet reached the floor, trembling a little still from the vibrations of the engine. The sounds went dead as he pulled the keys from the machine, but neither of you moved, his hands dropping down to find your own for just a second, and you lifted one hand. Your fingers weaved with his, before he was pulling your hand up, kissing the back of your hand gently, and the feeling made something explode within you. Butterflies, a tidal wave, something crushing and exhilarating and racing all in one, your heart beating erratically as he lowered your hand back down. “I’m sorry about before. I just wanted to be more like other people you hang out with, other people you’re friends with, or you’ve dated, or whatever. I didn’t want to be a freak.”

Standing up from the bike, you undid the catch on your helmet, putting it down on the seat as he copied your actions, going from looking up at you to once again looking down as he stood taller than you. “You know, when I’m with you, I feel so much better than I do when I’m with them.”

“I just want to be the right guy, you know? Be someone everyone likes, be someone who can fit in. Stiles does it so effortlessly, I can’t be like that.”

“You shouldn’t have to, because I think you’re great the way you are.” You tapped the tip of his nose, the same way he had done to you, and his face screwed up with ticklish responses exactly the same way that you had. “It’s a good thing you cut that out, though, because I got you something.”

“A gift?” He whispered, and you only nodded. Opening the box on the back of the bike, you swapped the helmet in your hand for your bag, laying it out onto the seat so that you had access to it. Opening up the bag and digging through it, you searched until your fingers brushed the silky material, and you could grasp the small item.

“It’s just something small.” You mumbled, beginning to untangle it from the contents inside, and hoping it hadn't gotten creased. Producing the item, his eyes dropped down from your face to the item in your hands, a neutral expression taking over as he considered it. “I like to put decals on my laptop, and all the ones I had were getting old and peeling. I was ordering some new ones, and I saw this one. It made me think of you.”

“It's a daisy.” He took it from you, thumb stroking across the shining plastic, and you nodded.

“Yeah, from the day that you and I sat in the field, and you let me put daisies in your hair.” You reached up, brushing your fingers through his hair lightly, and fluffing it back up from where it had fallen flat. “I figure you could put it on your laptop, or bedpost, or maybe don’t stick it to anything. You could put it on your pinboard in your room, or use it as a bookmark. I don’t know.”

“I love it.”

“You do?” Your heart had been racing, the uncertain expression he had that you couldn't possibly decipher became something like the sun, a wide smile as his chewed-down thumbnail picked at the edges. Peeling the plastic backing away from the transparent and inked design, your brows raised. He moved, pressing the edge of the plastic onto his bike, and sealing it down firmly, your eyes widening. “Noah! That’s your bike!”

“I know. I’ve never had a decal on it before.”

“But, what if it ruins your paint job, or something? I didn’t expect you to stick it on your bike, of all things!” He smirked, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as you rambled to him. Your eyes moved to the sticker, your face cupped by warm palms as your finger smoothed over it, the white and yellow standing out prominently against the black. “What if you decide you don’t like it, or you hate where it’s positioned, or-”

Your breath was held in your lungs as he dipped down closer than he’d ever been as his nose bumped against yours. Your lips brushed, his tongue poking out to wet his lips slowly, and you let out a shaky groan as he did. Your eyes closed, lashes tickling against his as he lingered there The tension was palpable, the split second that he lingered there felt like a thousand dragging on, before his lips met your own.

Soft and warm, his lips pressed tentatively against yours at first, a second becoming two that was filled with hesitation. It was simply his pressed to your own, nothing happened for a second, before it did. His lips moved, fingers digging a little more firmly into your jaw, and his palms slid down. His hand was sitting over your neck, feeling the pounding of your pulse under his hand no doubt, and your mind finally seemed to catch up.

Your lips twisted, a smile making itself evident, and your giggle was muffled against his lips as you sagged a little in his hold. His grip loosened a little, his kisses stopped, pulling back enough to press his forehead to your own, taking a breath, before he was pulling away. “That’s not the reaction I was hoping for.”

There was gravel in his voice, and he swallowed thickly to clear it away, pupils wider than you’d ever seen them when he looked back to you. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I was just caught off-guard.”

“Couldn’t have been that off-guard, I’ve not really been subtle, lately.”

“I just figured I’d have to make the first move.” You teased, his eyes rolling, and one hand lowered further. Smoothing over your side, his hand found your hip, rubbing soothing circles through the material and your whole body felt lost. Like you were floating in the clouds, but weights were tied to your fingertips, arms heavy as you raised them to loop around his neck. “Kiss me again. I won’t laugh this time, I swear.”

“If you do, I’m never kissing you again.” He mumbled, dipping down to brush a pout over your lips, and you scoffed slightly, head pushing up to meet him.

“Liar.” Your words were lost, mouth meeting his in a sweet kiss, and he sighed through his nose as you connected with him. This time, you were ready. Your lips moved back with his, a soft and slow kiss that nothing like you’d ever experienced before.

It was like fireworks, every place he touched as the hand on your waist flexed, and the one from your neck smoothed down along your bag to pull him closer. Your fingertips were tingling, one hand slipping to the back of his neck to hold him close as his mouth worked with yours in a way that emptied your mind. You were clinging to him, one hand down over his chest, feeling his heart racing through his shirt, and as he pulled away, one of his hands came up to hold onto your own on his chest.

You didn’t say anything, and neither did he. You didn’t know what to say, and neither did he. In fact, you were both completely speechless, a few more stolen pecks and bumps of your noses, before there was a grin cracking on your cheeks that you couldn’t contain, and he stood tall again, a kiss on your forehead before he was tucking you under his chin and close to his body.

“I’ve been thinking about doing that for a while. I didn’t know it would feel like that, though.” He whispered, hands taking yours on both sides, linking your fingers together as you rested against his, and you could only nod in agreement.

“Why didn’t you do it sooner?”

“I didn’t know you wanted me back.” He shrugged, and you pulled away, shock written on your face when he peered down to see you.

“I’ve not really been subtle, lately.” You threw his own words back at him, slightly pinker lips than usual showing off white teeth in a smile, and you rolled your eyes at him. “Wanna’ fix my car and talk mechanic to me and I’ll pretend I know what you’re saying?”

“I’ll simplify it for you.” He teased, letting go of your hands after one final squeeze to retrieve his belongings. Zipping up your bag and slinging it over one shoulder, he swapped his helmet for his backpack, tucking his keys into the front pocket, and you followed him around to the front of the building. Putting in the code on the padlock, he undid the lock at the bottom, the rickety metal shutter rolling up higher and higher until the whole doorway was exposed.

Your car lay inside, the hood already popped open and the engine was taken apart. Pieces were on the floor and the counters, like some kind of mechanic gore scene, and you jumped a little as he threw the heavy padlock onto the wooden table. Your bag followed, his was dumped by the side of the car, and he pulled it open, producing four boxes of lightbulbs for your car, shaking each one for a second to ensure they hadn't broken. He seemed pleased with what he heard, laying the boxes along the roof of the car.

It was propped up now, sitting on an angle as it was elevated into the air, and the board that he used to slide under it was still on the floor, indicating that it had been recently used. Taking your phone from your bag, you grabbed for the speaker, hidden in the same place you’d put it on your latest session with him, and began to untangle the wire. Once it was set up, pulled out as far from the wall as it would go, you set your phone down, plugging the device in.

The light on the base changed from red to green, signalling that it had connected, and the speaker let out a crackling sound to confirm the volume. Adjusting the dial a little, and being aware of Noah’s neighbours surrounding you, you turned it down a fraction. As you scrolled through the first couple of sounds, beginning to choose a set to start queuing up, a warm body was meeting your back, and hand smoothing around your waist to sit over your stomach, and once again, your mind was going blank.

His chin hooked onto your shoulder, your heart racing in your chest and a flush covered your entire body, somehow managing to feel like you were on fire in your own skin while also shivering a little, goosebumps rising along your exposed arms. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the skin of your shoulder just to the left of your dress strap, and you leaned back into him a little.

Physical contact was nothing new between the two of you, and had he taken these actions only a day or so ago, you probably would have had a calmer reaction than you did now, but there was something more hanging over it now. A line crossed, a new page in the book, something entirely different that made it that much more exhilarating.

You continue your scrolling, the soft melodies of ‘Brandy’ playing across the air, and the man behind you hummed approvingly. “I forgot that this song even existed. It’s a good choice.”

“It’s my favourite song.” You mumbled, your body beginning to sway side to side with his own in a very simple dance. The tune took up, and you sang lightly under your breath to yourself, Noah humming along behind you as you continued to add songs. Occasionally, he would join you, his finger coming out to tap or point at the screen, a silent suggestion on which ones to add, and within a few minutes, the songs were collected. Enough for an hour, at least, possibly even two, and then you could reconsider what to play when the music ran out.

“Your car should be up and running soon, I’ve been making some pretty good progress on it.”

You turned to face him, sitting down backwards on the spinning stool with the wooden top, and he was walking back toward the car, the toolbox on the opposite workbench already open. His back was to you, grey shirt stretched across broad shoulders, the muscles in his back evident when he leaned over and you let your eyes linger a little longer than usual. The blush you got every time you realised you were checking him out was still present, but it didn’t feel as taboo as it had previously.

“There’s something rattling in your engine and I can’t figure out what, I’ve taken out everything he could be, so I’m starting to think it’s something underneath.”

“That why this place looks like a car’s worst nightmare?” You teased, eyes moving across the pieces of removed engine, and he chuckled, sifting through the tools inside.

“Pretty much. I’ll put it all back together, though, don’t worry. I’ll feel better knowing you’re out on the road in something safe.” You cooed a little at him, his sweet gesture making your chest flood with adoration, bursting from the inside out, and he only rolled his eyes at you, glancing back over his shoulder for a split second. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do once it’s fixed, or where we’ll hang out.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Your tone was coy, and he chuckled, turning back to look at you. He had chosen what he was looking for, something that looked like a short and blunt tool. You weren’t sure what the folded end would be used for, but he was straight into action, leaning over your engine and reaching inside. Twisting in your seat, you reached for your bag, pulling out all of your books. Flicking through your notebook to find the latest empty page, your bag sat open. You’d gathered more than enough information from the pair to be able to start making your conclusions now, but you still felt behind.

Stiles was much further ahead, he had started forming his conclusions and searching for holes in his evidence almost three weeks ago, and he was beginning to redraft his final presentations as he produced a first copy. You were still a while off of being at that stage, becoming progressively more distracted by Noah and the puzzle he presented as you deciphered him, but you couldn't help it.

He was rattling around behind you, a sound that had distracted you for a while at first but had become background noise just like the music had, fading into something that helped your mind to work better than the silence ever did. Your notes seemed like they were blurring on the page, your mind far too busy thinking about recent events than the notes you’d taken on the two.

The songs ticked by, the tinkering behind you fading away and starts and ends of your engineer turning on and off, rattling slightly and making the air around you vibrate for just a second. Your pen scribbled song your paper comparing answers and beginning to draw what information you could and in the times that your mind wandered, you doodled borders around the notes that were just for you to see. The notebook that had once been fresh and crisply pressed was now ragged around the edges, worn pages from constant flicking back and forth, filled with ink and your thoughts as you tried to get them all down.

Occasionally, Noah would come over to join you, a half-drunk bottle of water that he was getting through as he leaned don the unit beside you. His notes had joined your one, his thoughts written down onto the paper, sometimes a joke, something with a sarcastic comment about what you had written, and sometimes it was just his one doodles to join yours.

The work was progressively getting done, and while it wasn’t nearly proceeding at the rate you would get it done alone, you preferred working slower and having his company than racing through it but being all alone. It was more enjoyable, especially when he began to relax more, the deeper rasp of his voice like a security blanket that forced your body to relax once he let go enough to start singing along lowly to the songs.

By the fourth one he had sung, you realised you hadn't written anything in almost ten minutes, pen hovering over the page, and it was beginning to feel hopeless. The sweltering heat was beginning to settle over you like a thick blanket on a too-hot summer’s night. As the afternoon moved on, the breeze was dying down, and the once temperate heat was becoming stifling as it sat stagnantly.

Closing your book and folding your pen inside, you called it a day, deeming it a good day’s work as you put your notebook into your bag, zipping it up, and a soft sound of something dropping beside you caught your attention. Turning around, a slightly damp pile of grey sat beside you, and upon picking it up for further inspection, you released it was a t-shirt.

Turning to the car, the man you were with had disappeared underneath, melodic voice bouncing from the metal on the underside of your car, but the happy trail of dark hairs along the bottom of a toned stomach was still visible, and your mouth rapidly dried at the sight. You turned away, feeling wrong for staring, but like a magnet, your gaze was drawn back to him.

Folding the material you still held neatly as something to simply busy yourself, the chair squeaked as you twisted to place it back down on top of your bag, no longer in a crumpled heap, before turning back to the vehicle. With elbows braced on the edge of the wooden counter, your eyes moved along it. Still covered in a layer of dirt and dust, it needed a good wash, but you’d hadn't bothered to venture as far as the carwash in a long time, trying to save the little life it had left for important travel. As soon as it was back in your possession, however, that would be one of your first priorities.

Moving a little further along, your eyes reached the back wheels, new tyres having been one of the first things Noah had done for you the grip on the other’s fading away, and you vaguely remembered him telling you all about the brake-pads at some point. His chatter about mechanics always became a mess in your mind, much like you were sure your psychology chatter became for him, but you listened intently and tried to keep up, just as he did for you. Simply hearing him talk so passionately was a treasure in itself.

“Oh, my God, you got that dent out.” Your eyes honed in on the spot, and while it wasn’t exactly perfect, it was considerably better than it had been. The wheels of the board scraped along the ground, sliding his body out from under the vehicle.

“Yeah, I noticed it when swapping out your tyres.” You turned back up him, the wide beam on your face dimming a little in shock, because you’d managed to forget his shirtless state for just a second, but now, it was crashing over you all in a sudden rush. His hands were stained with oil, and he stood up the folded muscles from his hunched position going taut as he stood, and he grabbed the nearest scrap of fabric he had, trying to wipe down his hands as best as he could. “It wasn’t too hard, I just had to hammer it out and smooth it over.”

“That was there since I got the car, I thought I’d never get it out!”

Your voice was a little shaky, and as he made his way over, your eyes were drawn to the tattoos on his chest. You’d seen him shirtless twice before, but you’d never had the chance to observe the designs up close. Slightly distorted by sweat and the grease from the underside of the car, you couldn't make them all out, and your fingers itched to reach up and trace the drawings that you had yet to discover.

He took the bottle from by your bag, undoing the cap with ease and raising it to take a gulp of the liquid, and every muscle he had seemed to shift and flex under his skin with the simple action. He wasn’t even trying, tired and dirty and sweaty and he was putting no effort in, but you were sure that you hadn't had a coherent thought for hours now. The song playing came to an end, the music fading out into silence, and you waited for the next one to come, but it never did. That was the second loop you’d put the music on, the hours having flown by, and the sun was shining in to leave longer shadows across the floor as it moved across the sky.

“You’re bored, aren’t you?”

“Little bit.” You grinned, holding up two fingers but making sure they were very close together, just to show a small amount, and he chuckled. Wiping the back of a hand over his mouth, he cleared excess water from there, before he was holding the bottle out to you. Taking it gratefully, your mouth had been dry and desperate for a drink since the moment he’d pulled away from you after that first kiss, leaving you dried out and thirsty ever since.

Taking a sip, he stepped away from you, moving to grab your car keys from the side unit and moved to the driver’s seat. The door was already open, and rounding it to the other side, he twisted the key to start the car up. The engine came to life almost immediately, no spluttering or grinding of parts, no multiple attempts needed, and it purred happily as it rotated inside itself, as though it was a brand new vehicle. It wasn’t loud or clunking, and there was no unusual sound being made. Clearly, Noah was just as happy with that result, because he cheered a little to himself.

Shifting inside, he checked various options, everything from the indicators to the headlights and the fog lights. The new bulbs were lighting up perfectly and brightly, clear and start white as opposed to the faded yellow they had been beginning to gather with age. “I am so impressed. Like, awestricken, really.”

“Thanks, kitten.'' Just when you thought you’d managed to put a cap on it, and get your head in a reasonable place, he had thrown a petname in your direction. Once again, you were speechless, thoughtless, and senseless, unable to control the dreamy sigh that was almost a breathy giggle at the sound, trying not to fawn too obviously over the new treatment he was giving you. “I think that pretty much does it.”

“So, when do I get to take her home?”

He was beaming, tapping the roof of the car and killing the engine, before nodding his head at himself. “You can drive her home right now, if you just give me a second to unhook and lower it back to the ground at the back.”

“We’re leaving?”

“You’re bored, and we’re pretty much done here.” You frowned, not having intended to bring your time to an end, as though he could read your mind, he continued on with what he had to say. “Doesn’t mean we have to say goodbye just yet. We can find something else to do.” He rounded the car, hooking a finger under your chin to tip your head up to meet his gaze. He was looking down on you with a sweet smile, nothing but peace and serenity written on his face. “You’re sure you really like me? We’re, like, total opposites.”

“Opposites attract.” You teased, his eyes rolling, and he stepped a little closer to you. The chair made you feel too low, his hair falling into his face as he leaned over you, and you stood to meet him, his gaze following you as he did.

“I thought you were just going to be a burden, you know. I thought that doing this study was gonna’ suck, and I was going to be miserable, but getting to know you has been so different so what I expected.”

Lifting his hand, his palm smoothed over your cheek, letting you tip into his touch. “Yeah, well, first impressions can be misleading. I can be pretty cool.”

“You’re the coolest person I know.” He whispered, gaze dropping down to linger on your lips for a second, and you smiled softly, his face mimicking the notion.

He stared for a second longer, before dipping down. He hesitated for just a second, a laugh carried on his breath that you barely caught, and you leaned up too. Your nose brushed his, nervous breaths shared in the hardly-existent space between you both as your lips continued to brush lightly. He dipped down, his lips pressing lightly to your own as the tension finally came to an end, and there was a smile on his lips as he did. It made it hard, the smiles that neither of you could contain, and your hand roe up to cup his cheek.

Timid pecks, delicate laughs between broken kisses as your noses bumped and lips puckered, trying to contain yourselves. Your heart was racing, he was just as nervous as you were, the new boundary as a friendship turned to a relationship, and it would take a little longer to get used. When he pulled back, a final and longer kiss pressed to your lips, that same sweetly dopey expression was on his face, warm cheeks and sparkling eyes.

“I like that.”

“I got oil on your face.” He mumbled, picking up his shirt from beside you both, shaking it out from its folded position. Hooking the edge of it over his thumb, he wiped at the smear on your face, leaning down to press a kiss to the spot once it was cleared, and your cheeks were almost aching for your smile.

He stepped back from you, lips rolling together to contain his smile, and as he walked, he was pulling his shirt up and over his head. Beginning to pump at the jack behind the car with his foot, your car was lowered back to the ground the back wheels finally touching against the concrete again. With a screeching sound against the concrete, he dragged away the piece of equipment, metal scraping on the stonework floor, and he left it abandoned in the back of the shed.

Reaching for the keys at the edge of your car, he threw them to you, barely giving you a second to catch them before he was snickering to himself at your fumbling, the keys jingling in your touch. “C’mon then. You must be excited to get back in your car.”

You nodded, slinging your bag from the side into the passenger seat, and he was holding your car door open for you, letting you settle inside. Closing it up carefully, you reached for the lever under your seat, adjusting it back to how you liked it. He’d clearly been inside, the distance between the pedals and the seat of legs much longer than yours, and as you adjusted yourself, his arms folded against the edge of the door. Plugging in the key and switching on the engine. As it tumbled to life, you were able to roll the window down, finding it much cleaner and smoother in its movements than it had been.

He leaned in more, bent at the waist as he peered inside, and your fingers flexed on the wheel. “How’s it feel to be back in your car?”

“I feel independent again.” you turned to him, the car still rumbling underneath you. “Thanks to you.”

“Well, try your air-con.” He pointed to the nozzle, all wiped down and polished inside, and you did as told. Instead of sputtering and squeaking, they came on quietly, warm air from the engine turning to cold a second later, and it was a refreshing relief compared to the heat of the day as the sun dared to meet the horizon. “Better, right?”

“Incredible.” You mumbled, daring to mess with the other controls. Your wipers didn’t scrape at the glass, but moved quietly and conveniently, and the windscreen wash was even functional, a little burst of water covering the glass and being quickly wiped away. The gear stick wasn’t so sticky and the pedals were easy to press on once again, just the right amount of pressure underneath. There were no unusual noises coming from your engine. “Almost feels surreal.”

“Yeah, well, the only thing I didn’t do is put gas in the tank, so you’re gonna’ have to do that on your way back.”

“Back to where?” You turned to him, a cheeky look on your face and he smirked, matching you, and settling a little lower until your eyes were level.

“Stiles isn’t home. We can play video games in the main room, and I can do more of this-” He leaned in, pulling you in with a thumb and forefinger on your chin. The smirk he wore became a pout, his lips pressing to your own, and there was more confidence behind it now. All of your kisses so far had been shy and scared, testing the waters and adjusting to how it felt, but now, he was a little more sure of himself. His lips teased over yours, more enveloping than a simple kiss, and you were melting into him. Leaning closer toward the door of the car, your hand was coming to brace yourself against it, finding his arm on the edge of the rolled-down window.

“I like that plan.”

“I’ll meet you there, then.” He stood up, hands patting the edge of the car, before stepping backwards. With a wave before leaving, you undid the clutch, shifting it into first gear, and creeping forwards. Weaving through the boxes carefully, you were unfamiliar with the pathways, making your way towards the road as Noah walked alongside you guiding you to the main quarter. As soon as you knew your way, he was pausing, waving at you in your rearview mirrors and walking back towards his garage shed.

The drive was much easier, a car you felt like you could rely on as you went along, and you were barely along the road before the warning light on your dashboard was flicking on to warn you of a petrol depletion. It seemed that you had only just missed the rush-hour traffic, the roads starting to clear out a thin down, and you were almost disappointed by it. It meant that you didn’t get a chance to test out all your gears and brakes, with how seamless your journey went, but the last thing you wanted was for the car to overheat as you drove along, breaking again already.

Dangling from your mirror as you checked behind, you became aware of the little tree hanging there. A small piece of green felt, the pine smell filling the cabin as you drove becoming less of a mystery, and you lifted your hand to it. Running your fingers lightly over the surface, the cupboards underneath was sturdy, the tree spinning on its string when you let it go.

It was such a small gesture, and yet something so sweet about it as it hung there. Like a permanent reminder of him, something you’d see every time you drove, whether he was with you that day or not. Pulling up into the gas station, your car came to a stop, easy and simple without a lot of stuttering and jerking motions. It was like a miracle. Hopping out, the air-con that had been inside had grown comfortable, the warm air outside was suddenly prickling along your skin, like an itch that you couldn’t get to.

Rounding to the side and beginning to start the pump, your eyes moved over the station. There was only one other car, a mother with two children in car seats in the back, who both seemed to be hyperactive. They were screaming at the top of their lungs, giggling and smacking their hands against the window, and as her eyes met your own, she gave you a tried smile. You offered a little wave, the two small children inside the car reciprocating it too, and only a moment later, her husband was appearing from inside the shop. The bell overhead jingled as he exited, jogging slightly as he put his wallet back into his pocket.

They were pulling out as you finished, letting the nozzle drip clean for a second before you were putting it back on the hook. Locking up the car and making your way inside, there was a swift breeze of air conditioning over the doorway, the air inside chilled, and it was almost a little too cold. Rows full of treats and food for road trips and hungry children, or simply just bored snacking were laid out, multicoloured wrappers that were eye-catching.

Wandering through the aisles, you built an armful of the treats, unable to resist temptations as you bought a range of everything from pretzels and chips to candy and chocolate. The cashier behind the counter was chewing gum, a bored look on his face and you thought that he couldn't possibly be older than Junior year in high school as he rang it up. Packing it all into a bag and adding your tab from the lot outside, your card was pressed into the reader. Punching your PIN in to follow it, the out of date machine took a few extra seconds to go through, before your payment was confirmed.

A full tank and a bag of snacks, and you were back in the car, tucking the recent purchases down into the shadowed footwell and out of the way of the sun that was just beginning to brush the horizon. The clock on your dash told you the veering was rolling in, the night going to be uncomfortably hot and your car started back up with ease. The display flashed for a second as the engine restarted, and then, you were on the road.

Parking up beside Stiles’ building, windows rolled up and your snacks hidden in your backpack, you swung it onto your shoulder. Three flights of stairs, one long corridor, and two knocks on hardwood, and you waited. It was nostalgic to be here waiting for him, but the nerves you’d had months ago when waiting for a boy you barely knew were entirely washed away. Swinging it open, Noah filled the doorway, a smile so bright you wanted to cover your eyes on his face as he greeted you.

“Wow, what a surprise. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Oh, were you expecting someone?” You played along, and he let you inside, closing the door behind you as you toed off your shoes to leave beside the doorway.

“You know, I was. I have a super cute girl coming over soon, so you’re gonna’ have to make this quick.” He shrugged, his hands coming to find your waist and pull you a little closer as soon as you’d put your bag down on the couch. “Oh, wow, super cute girl alert. Hi.”

You’re secretly a total dork, huh?” Leaning up, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, hand sliding down over his chest, and there was the sticky printing of a patch under your skin. Looking down to his shirt, it was navy blue now, a logo for a band you didn’t recognise beginning to fade on the front. ���You changed.”

“I was sweaty and oily.” He took your hand, dragging you over to the couch, and pushing you to sit down with the other hand on your shoulder. He moved away, switching on the televisions and the console, two drinks of soda laid out before you, and he slumped down into the couch by your side. Your legs folded underneath yourself, taking the bag from the cushion it lay on, and dropping it into his lap. “A school bag. Thanks so much, just what I wanted, how’d you know?”

“Look inside.” Your eyes rolled involuntarily despite your grin, and he did as told, nimbly undoing the zip on it, and opening the bag up. Pulling out the folded brown pair, he indeed the top, peering inside at the contents.

“Oh, you brought snacks.” He stared in at them, before he was turning to you, a playfully accusatory look on his face as his eyes narrowed. “What did you do? Did you break that car already?”

“No.” You frowned, his finger coming up to poke and smooth at the wrinkled forming o your forehead. “Why do you think I did something?”

“Because all the previous times you’ve brought me food, it’s because you did something.” You scoffed, smacking at his arm and pretending it was an accident as you picked up a candy bar out of the bag, peeling the wrapper down.

“What the hell do you mean ‘all’?” You bit a chunk off of it, and he shook a bag of chips, distributing the flavour inside, before tearing it open. He crunched loudly as he placed one of the triangular chips into his mouth, twisting to face you some more.

“Okay, first time; You bought my coffee after ambushing me in my home and insulting me-”

“I did not insult you, you jumped to conclusions!” He pressed a finger to your lips, silencing your words, and grinning cheekily.

“It’s rude to interrupt people, you know.” He placed another chip into his mouth, chewing happily, and lowering his hand from your mouth. “Second time, you brought pizza after ambushing me on my lunch break.” Your jaw dropped, but you remained quiet, a huff and a scowl on your lips at his words. “Third time, you brought lasagne after ambushing me at the coffee cart.”

“I don’t like the way that you portray me.”

“Fourth time, you forced me to go out to a restaurant, which you technically didn’t bring food to, but it was still overwhelming.” You sighed, taking a bite of your chocolate, and he wiggled his fingers a little as he rode his thumb to create a fifth finger. “Fifth time, you said you were planning to bring me food but didn’t have any after the first time you ambushed me at my garage.”

“Why do you keep saying ambushed?” You scowled, his hand coming down to rest on his knee, and you pushed it away. That only made him laugh, his hand coming back, leaning down to grip just above your ankle at your calf a little more firmly, and lifting your leg up.

“Because that’s exactly what you did.” He pulled you closer, your legs slinging across his lap as he dragged you across the couch, and he looked overly proud of himself for the shocked noise you elicited as he did so. “But, somewhere between the third and fourth times, I stopped being irritated by it, and your continued persistence and unwavering enthusiasm because kinda’ cute.”

His hand came up to brush through his hair, he broke the silence with the loud crunching of another potato chip. “Can I ask you a question, though?”

“Only if you promise to kiss me afterwards.”

“Deal.” You teased, shuffling a little closer to him, and he moved the bag of snacks from leaning on his stomach to sitting beside the both of you. “You know that first time I came to see you here, when I asked you about the study? You said some really mean things about yourself, like ‘criminal’ and ‘lowlife’, what did you mean?”

His lower lip dragged through his teeth, eyes leaving yours for a second, and the sweet and joyful moment between you both came crashing down into something much heavier. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not actually a criminal. People just started that because one night I was at a bar on the edge of town that seems a little sketchy, and a bar fight broke out, The cops showed up, and a guy got stabbed. I was actually out the back smoking at the time, so, I didn't even see all the excitement.”

“I’m sorry that the rumour started, though.” Your hand sank to his cheek, thumb stroking over his skin slowly.

“Stiles got really mad when he heard that rumour, and he cleared it up on his podcast, but the damage was done. Yet another reason why nobody wanted to be my friend.” You leaned in, kissing his forehead like he tended to do for you, and he tipped up, nose bumping yours in a silent ‘thank you’ for the comfort. “I just saw myself as a low-life. I let the rumours travel, I wasn’t even trying to make friends. I let my whole college experience slip away because I wanted to avoid confrontation or stress. You might have ambushed me, and forced me out of my comfort zone, but I think someday, I’m gonna’ look back on that and be grateful.”

You grinned, forehead resting on his as your hand slipped down, finding his shoulder instead, and his head tipped a little further upwards.

“Now, make good on that promise.”

“Oh, I plan to..” You whispered, lips brushing against his teasingly. You stayed where you were, though, letting him lean in a little closer until he almost had his lips pressed to yours, before you were shifting. He huffed, chasing you again, and you repeated the action, making him groan at the brief teasing. You chuckled, his hand flexing around your ankle, before his hand was sliding up to your knee, and you laughed a little more at the needy action.

“You’re being cruel.” He whined, and you were ready to give in, fingertips pressing into the flesh of his shoulder through the new shirt, before there was muffled shouting from the corridor. Loud, and angry, only getting clearer as the voice moved closer to the apartment, and it wasn’t until there was a set of keys in the lock and the door was opening.

You pulled back, sitting up a little further as Stiles came in, but the man didn’t seem to notice the two of you yet. He was yelling, a series of curse words to whoever was in the corridor behind him, and you recognised the equally angry voice of Derek, before the door was slamming shut. He paused, letting out a loud scream of anger at himself as he stared at the closed door, and you twisted on the couch, kneeling on it with your arms braced along the back to look at him.

Hanging up his jacket, Stiles turned to you both, jumping as he saw you there. The anger remained for only a second, before it was melting away into guilt, quickly followed by sadness. His shoulders slumped, scowl becoming a heavy frown as the wrinkles loosened into something sad, and he was frowning at you both.

“Sorry for all the yelling.” He started at you both for a second longer, his lower lip practically wobbling with his sadness as his hands came up to clutch together in front of himself.

“Is this a best friend or a brother moment? I can’t tell, what did Derek do?” You tried to keep your voice low. Shifting your bag to the floor with a sweep of your hand to make space for Stiles, and shuffling up so that he could sit in the middle of you both.

“If it’s a sex thing, it’s definitely a best friend thing.” Noah added, and you turned to stare at him, incredulous above all, but Stiles let out a weak and watery laugh.

“It’s really nice to have you both here.” He came over, staring at the snacks that were laid out, and your bag on the floor, shoulders only slumping further. “I’m sorry for interrupting whatever the two of you were doing.”

“We weren’t doing much. Yet.” Noah sighed, and you twisted to him, glaring for his joke, and he shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek and trying to keep a serious face. “Okay, fine, I’m sorry. You wanna’ watch movies, or something?”

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” He kicked off his shoes, leaving them abandoned by the coffee table, and he settled down between you both. Placing a cushion on your lap, you patted it, and he shot you a thankful look before moving to lay down. Resting his head against the cushion, his feet landed in his brother's lap. “Will you stay?”

“If you want me to.” You mumbled, nails scraping in feather-light patterns along his hairline.

As you stroked his hair gently, he began to relax a little further, and once he did, he began to spill. He was steady long enough to select a film, one of the Star Trek movies, surprisingly, and he sat silently, eating the snacks that you had purchased, for almost twenty minutes. After the food was finished, though, he broke.

The volume on the television was turned down and he was dominating the conversation, spilling everything that was weighing on his mind and heart. The problems came back to Derek, and the future between the two of them concerning the end of college. Derek had set plans that he’d always been planning on, and Stiles wanted to be more flexible, but neither was willing to budge. The conversation had never come up before, and now, with only a couple of short months left until the decision had to be made.

He admitted how nice it was to have you both here, the three of you sitting in companionable silence to follow his confessions about his relationship, and Noah stretched his arm out along the back of the couch towards you. It wasn’t the night that either of you had expected, and it wasn’t the most exciting, but it was enough. Your fingers wove with Noah’s sitting along the back of the cushion, and Stiles was mouthing along with the words on the screen as the movie came to an end.

It was cooler now, the sun having passed beyond the horizon, and you’d texted Lydia to let her know where you were as dusk was setting in. By the time that the credits were rolling, the man with his head in your lap had fallen asleep, snoozing softly with snores that were barely audible. Noah’s thumb was stroking over your hand, and he leaned over, empty wrappers crinkling as he moved, before the television was being switched off.

“So, that didn’t exactly go as planned.”

“It’s okay. Stiles needed us.” You shrugged, fingers weaving through the sleeping boy’s hair again, and his face had finally gone back to relaxed as he rested. “I should get going, though. It’s getting late. We can just rearrange.”

You yawned, covering your mouth as you did. Using the edges of the pillow, you lifted Stiles' head, enough to slip out from underneath him and you stood up. Your head had gone numb a while back, the pins and needles having passed and you shook your leg to try and wake it back up. Your butt was aching, making you wobble with each step you took, and Noah grinned as he followed your actions.

Grabbing the stray wrappers and putting them back into the paper bag, he reached for one of the spare blankets, tucking it over his brother and making sure he was secure.

“Why don’t we have breakfast together tomorrow morning?”

“I’d like that.” Your arms looped his waist, and his circled your shoulders, pulling you a little closer. “Where?”

“Here, if you stay over?” You studied him for a second, and his eyes widened, a pink colour coating his cheekbones. “Not with me. Not, y’know, I mean-” His blush only deepened, and you chuckled at him. “I just meant that you can stay in Stiles’ room. He won’t wake up until the morning now, anyway, and you’re tired. It’s dark and you shouldn't have to go home alone.”

You smiled, leaving him hanging in the suspense for a second longer, before putting him out of the suspenseful misery. “I think that would work just fine for me.”

“Good.” He smiled, lips brushing over your forehead, before he was straightening up. “Can you get the lights and the locks, I’ll go grab you something to wear.”

He stepped back, letting you do as told, as you moved around the room. Checking the door first, you flicked the catch on the door and double-checked it, before beginning to turn off all of the lamps. Stiles was snoring to himself and rolled over, facing the back of the cushions and clutching the blankets up to his chin. Pressing a kiss to the tips of two fingers, you smoothed it over your best friend’s forehead, mentally wishing him a quick recovery from his broken heart, before turning out the final light.

Noah was waiting in the hallway when you arrived, a pair of sweats, a t-shirt and a jumper in his hands, with a ball of socks on top, and he presented them to you, a shy smile on his face.

“I don’t think I’ll need all of that. It’s the summer.”

“Well, you know, I didn’t want you to get cold in the night, or anything. Now you have options.” You took them from him, tucking them under your arm, his hands went into his pockets. You were both lingering, the darkness only illuminating you both from the light on in his room that was spilling out around him. “Okay, well, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Noah.” Despite the words being spoken, neither of you moved, brown eyes with wide pupils sealed on you, searching you for some kind of reaction, and he swallowed thickly. His mouth opened, more words to come, before his jaw was snapping shut again, and his brows furrowed.

“Goodnight. Again, I guess.”

“Goodnight, Noah.” You smiled, humour in your voice again, and he took a minuscule step back from you before pausing again. Taking a step with him, your hand came up, the one not clutching clothes found his shoulder, and you pressed your lips against his in a simple peck. He let out a sound that made your heart flutter, leaning in to return the affection and he kissed you back slowly, before letting you sink to the ground and step away towards Stiles’ room. He watched you go, never moving until you were giving him a final smile, and closing Stiles’ bedroom door.

Resting your back against it once you were inside, you heard his bedroom door close too, and your heart was beating so fast you could feel it all the way to your fingertips. The day had been nothing like what you’d expected, a whirlwind adventure from start to finish, but you didn’t regret a thing.

[shin-city]

Attentive Detention [Denki Kaminari x Reader]

a/n: kaminari is aged up to 18! (see end for more notes!)

genre: smut

word count: 3.8k

tags: sexual content, pwp, a sprinkle of dubcon, a pinch of humiliation, degrading, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, squirting, quirk play, overstimulation, Denki is a sadist lol

~

“This is all your fault,” you grumbled, glaring at the back of the blonde head of hair sitting in front of you. He instantly turned around, returning a glare just as icy.

“My fault? You’re the one who can’t take a joke,” he whispered angrily.

You rolled your eyes, dropping your pen that had stilled in the middle of writing, “I will not fight with Denki Kaminari,” for the 59th time out of 100.

“Okay, for the thousandth time- shocking me in the middle of class is not a joke.”

Yes, your classmate had an annoying habit of using his quirk on you at the most inappropriate of times, despite how many times you’d told him to stop doing it. He would always get a kick out of how flustered you’d get before halfheartedly smacking him and telling him off.

You both turned your attention to the front of the classroom once you heard a throat clear, being met with the hard stare of your teacher.

“Surely the two of you haven’t finished your sentences already,” Mr. Aizawa declared, raising a brow at the both of you.

“S-sorry, Mr. Aizawa. I’m almost done,” Kaminari smiled at him, although looking over his shoulder you could see that he’d only written, “I will not fight with y/l/n y/n,” 20 times before beginning to doodle random images all over his paper.

Following your outburst in class earlier that day after Denki had shocked you one time too many, Mr. Aizawa was fed up with the two of you bickering and gave you both detention. He’d lectured you on how it was important for you to get along seeing as you were teammates, and made the two of you promise to stop fighting with each other. He’d also assigned the two of you to write it 100 times each.

Aizawa stood up, eyeing both of you momentarily before shuffling lazily toward the door. “I’m going to the teachers lounge for a bit. I trust that the two of you will behave, because if you don’t,” he mumbled, pausing to glare at both of you over his shoulder. “You’ll be writing those sentences 1,000 times each.” He pulled open the door, adjusting his scarf before making his exit.

Kaminari waited until Aizawa’s footsteps could no longer be heard before spinning around entirely in his desk to face you. He had that signature smirk of his on his face, which could only mean he was up to no good.

“Turn around,” you said firmly. “We’re never gonna hear the end of it if he comes back and we’re arguing.”

He chuckled at that, snatching your pen from your hand and tucking it in his pocket. “Why do we have to argue? Can’t we just talk?”

You clenched your teeth, your hands balling up into fists as you glared at him. You knew you shouldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting you so riled up, but he was so annoying sometimes that it was hard not to.

“Maybe if you didn’t do stupid shit like that, we could just talk,” you spat, holding your hand out in front of him. “Now give it back.”

He looked down at your palm, a sinister smirk on his lips. You should’ve known what was coming next, but you didn’t register it quickly enough and before you knew it he was pressing his index finger against your palm, a small shock diffusing throughout your hand.

“D-Denki!” you whined, immediately pulling your hand away and dramatically clutching it to your chest as if it hurt that badly. It didn’t; in fact, it almost felt... good, but you would never tell him that.

He threw his head back in laughter, but returned his gaze to you in time to see your cheeks flush. That was his favorite part about teasing you.

“It’s not funny,” you mumbled through a bitten lip, grateful for the desk that covered your thighs, which had involuntarily clenched together the moment he touched you.

As Kaminari’s laughter died down, you noticed him staring at you intently, his smirk fading along with his laughter. His eyelids lowered ever so slightly, and this new expression he’d taken on had you blushing even more. His eyes glinted with mischief as usual, but...there was something else...

“Hey, why’re you looking at me like that....,” you seethed, turning to look away from him as you cheeks grew hotter. You tensed up when his hands extended toward you, but you relaxed a little when they grabbed the edges of your desk.

“You know,” he began, leaning over your desk until your faces were just a couple of inches away from each other. “I think you might like when I do that to you.”

Your eyes widened as you gawked at him, sitting back in your seat in an attempt to close the distance between you, but he only leaned in closer.

“What are you talking about? What’s gotten into you?”

It was like a switch flipped in him or something. He’d tease you all the time, yes, but never like this. But Denki had realized something. He’d noticed how your brows furrowed when he touched you...how you tensed up; how you’d whimper his name, practically moaning it. How had he not noticed it before?

You liked when he electrocuted you.

“What’s gotten into me? What’s gotten into you?”

He smirked as he tightened his grip on your desk, the legs scraping against the floor as he slid it away from you. You didn’t even try to stop him. All you could do was stare pathetically as he moved it until it was no longer between you. The only thing separating you two was the back of his chair, which he slouched over seductively. Slowly, he reached a hand toward you, and you watched in anticipation, frozen in your seat. He gave you ample time to stop him, but you never even attempted to. Before you knew it, his fingertips were brushing against your bare knee, just below your uniform skirt. You could see the electricity buzz around his fingers as he gave you a light shock.

You bit your lip in a failed attempt to hold back a whimper, your thighs pressing together which Denki could now fully see.

“It’s just as I thought,” he chuckled, pulling his hand away and turning back around. You thought he was done messing with you until he spun his whole chair around, now facing you with nothing in between you. He scooted closer and closer, until your knees were almost touching. “You’re so naughty, y/n,” he mused.

Your mouth fell open at his comment, not knowing how to respond. Usually you’d call him a name or two and hit him a couple of times, but that was when he was teasing you playfully. Now, he was teasing you lustfully and your body was responding to him better than your own mouth could.

“I...I...,” was all you could sputter, becoming very aware of the dampness between your legs. You desperately wanted him to touch you again, your worries about crossing that line with him settling in the back of your mind.

“You what?” he asked, sinister smirk playing on his lips. “C’mon, spit it out. You always have so much to say, don’t you?”

His fingertips graced your knee again as he shocked you, this time giving it a little bit more than he normally did. He was careful not to over do it; testing your limits to see how you’d react to different wattages.

“Denki,” you whined, becoming very aware of the growing dampness between your legs. “Please.”

“Please what?” he retorted. “Tell me what you want.”

You tried to find the words, but you couldn’t concentrate on anything except his hand on you. Even if you could manage to utter a comprehensible sentence, you weren’t even sure what you’d say. You weren’t sure if you were pleading him to go or stop. A part of you knew you shouldn’t be letting things get this far with him, especially in the classroom. But another part of you was eager for more; craving his touch. You were curious as to just how far this would go, as was he.

Following your silence, his hand spread out to firmly grip your thigh, fingertips digging into your flesh as he upped the wattage just a little bit more. That was all it took to break through what was left of your restraint, a moan emanating past your lips before you could stop it. Your thighs clenched once again, this time trapping a part of his hand between them as your body trembled.

A wicked grin spread across his face as he watched your body shudder under his touch. “Look at you...such a dirty girl.”

Your stomach did somersaults as he stood up, his hand never leaving your skin as he loomed over you. When you lifted your gaze to look at him, his face was only centimetres from yours, his hair tickling your check as he hovered his lips just over your ear. “I wonder...” he began, his free hand now gripping your other thigh. “Just how many times I made you wet from doing this...”

He activated his quirk through his other hand, both of them now shocking your thighs rhythmically. He snickered menacingly as you cried out his name, your hand reaching out to clutch his arm because you felt as though you’d fall over if you didn’t.

“That’s it, baby, let me hear you.” His warm breath fanned your ear as he whispered sinfully into it, and another series of shocks rattled your body. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Denki...,” you mewled, clutching desperately at his sleeve. “We... someone might walk in.”

“And? What, are you worried someone might see what a little slut you’re being for me right now?”

Kaminari’s fingers inched higher up your thighs, his fingertips now underneath the hem of your uniform skirt. You wondered how far he’d go, because despite your feeble warning about getting caught, you knew you weren’t going to stop him. You both did.

“Do you want me to stop? All you have to do is say so,” he mumbled into your neck before placing a soft kiss on the delicate skin just below your ear. His hands crept further up until they disappeared underneath your skirt, though he no longer shocked you; waiting for you to tell him what he already knew- what you couldn’t deny any longer.

“N-no...,” you uttered, fidgeting as his tongue darted out to lick at your neck. “I don’t want you to stop.”

That was all the confirmation he needed to resume his ministrations on your thighs, buzzing at them more feverishly after your admission had caused his pants to grow tighter. He detached his lips from your neck, peppering kisses across your cheek until he was at the corner of your mouth. He pulled away from you slightly, gazing hungrily at your lips. He desperately wanted to feel them on his, but he wanted you to initiate it. He wanted you to show him just how much you wanted him.

“Kiss me,” he ordered, his tone playful, but demanding as well.

You didn’t hesitate, meeting him halfway and closing the gap between the two of you. You pressed your lips against his, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck, and another in his soft, blonde locks. He returned the kiss with fervor, immediately deepening it and sliding his tongue into your mouth. He swallowed your moans, returning them every so often when you’d roll your tongue slowly against his, or when you’d tug at his lip particularly hard. He’d removed his hands from underneath your skirt and placed them on your knees, gripping them needily. He broke the kiss shortly thereafter, attaching his lips to your throat instead.

“Open,” he commanded, tapping at your knees to signal you to open your legs for him. You complied, blushing as you shifted in your seat into the lewd position. You grew even more flustered when he knelt before you, his face right in front of your aching core. He drummed his buzzing fingers back up your thighs, gazing up at you as he gripped the hem up of your skirt and slowly hiked it up towards your hips- just enough to see a peak of your dampening underwear.

You averted your gaze from him when he began to snicker, licking a stripe on your inner thigh. “I can’t believe how wet you are already.”

The way he kept laughing at you had you soaking your panties even more. It was embarrassing yes, but something about his teasing tone sent shivers down your spine and straight to your dripping cunt.

You gasped when Denki pressed his thumb against your clothed clit, rubbing small circles through the wet patch on your panties. Small moans broke past your lips as he played with the speed and pressure, watching your face to gauge your reactions.

“I bet you want me to shock you here, don’t you?” He paused the movements of his thumb and looked up at you, indicating that the question wasn’t rhetorical, and that he was waiting on an answer.

“Y-Yes,” you whimpered, pathetically grinding yourself against his hand. “Please, Denki, I want it.”

He laughed against your thigh, his hands disappearing under your skirt to grip the waistband of your panties.

“Look at you- begging, and I didn’t even have to ask you to. You really are a slut, aren’t you y/n?” He dragged your panties down your thighs painfully slow, before letting them drop around your ankles. “Say it. Tell me what a little slut you are so that I can treat you like one.”

Kaminari’s hands gripped your thighs firmly as he spread them even further, your dripping heat glistening in front of him like a meal waiting to be devoured, and oh, was he going to devour you.

Your face went crimson at his vulgar words, but you still uttered what he wanted to hear. “I’m a slut, Kaminari. I’m such a s-slut. Your slut.”

“Yeah, that’s right you are,” he mused from between your legs before leaning in to lick along your folds. Your body trembled immediately. He hadn’t even used his quirk there yet, but still you felt like every one of your nerve endings were live wires. He continued to lap at your cunt, relishing in the taste of your essence that had accumulated there. He mumbled something about how sweet you were, but you couldn’t quite hear him over your own moans.

He began to softly flick his tongue against your clit, shocking you both figuratively and literally as he channeled his quirk through his tongue.

“Ohhh my f-, Denki~” you cried out, bucking your hips against his face. He grunted and groaned into your pussy, lapping at you faster and harder and zapping at you just the same. There was no way you were going to last much longer like this, and he could tell you were nearing your climax, prompting him to wrap his lips around your clit and suck- hard, buzzing at the nub with his tongue.

Your hands flew to his mop of blonde hair, tugging at his roots as you ground your pussy against his mouth. “Denki- ahh~, I’m g-gonna c-”

“I know, baby,” he murmured into your cunt. “ Cum for me, my naughty girl. Let me taste you.”

Your mouth fell open and your moans caught in your throat as you teetered on the edge of your climax. The lewd sounds of Denki sucking and licking at your pussy filled the classroom. He shocked you for a particularly long period of time, and that was all it took to push you over the edge. You cried out his name as you came on his mouth and chin, Denki lapping it up diligently.

“So good,” he groaned into your cunt, not letting up even a little bit. “So sweet.”

You tugged at his hair in an attempt to pull him away, your clit feeling over sensitive and over stimulated, but he didn’t budge. In fact, he only devoured you more feverishly.

“W-Wait I... c-can’t, it’s too much Denki,” you mewled, trying to close your legs but he wouldn’t allow it.

“Oh, baby,” he smiled into your pussy, kissing your swollen clit. “Yes you can. Because you’re my little slut, aren’t you? That’s what you said, right?”

He spared you no time to respond, sinking two fingers whirring with electricity into your dripping heat. He pressed them against that soft, spongy spot inside you, rubbing at it as he shocked you rhythmically.

The combination of electricity on both your clit and your g-spot had you seeing stars and grabbing fistfuls of his hair as you moaned out for him.

You felt him snicker into your core. “Don’t you think you’re being a little loud? Someone might hear you.”

You weren’t even paying attention as he dragged his free hand down your leg, his fingers hooking around your panties that now hung around one of your ankles. He pulled it off, detaching his mouth from your clit as he did so. You opened your mouth to protest, and he used the opportunity to reach up and stuff your balled up panties into your mouth.

He stood up, slouching so that he was eye level with you, never once ceasing the driving of his fingers into your cunt.

“So cute~” he mused, pushing a third finger into you like it was nothing. “I bet you can taste your sweet little pussy now, too. I’d ask how it tastes...but I guess you can’t answer me, huh...”

You whimpered and whined pathetically around the makeshift gag, saliva dribbling out of the corner of your mouth as your body shook with pleasure. You were so embarrassed, and yet so aroused all at once. It didn’t help that Kaminari darted his tongue out to lewdly lick up the small stream of saliva that escaped your mouth, before pressing his lips to your ear.

“Let’s make you cum one more time, yeah? Before Mr. Aizawa comes back and sees you like this. Though, you’d probably like that, wouldn’t you?”

You blushed as you shook your head feverishly and mumbled around your panties, denying the accusation.

“No? Is that why your tight, little pussy clenched around my fingers when I said that?” he snickered, nibbling on your earlobe before growling how dirty you were into your ear.

The blend of his fingers and sinful words had you peaking again, so close to coming, and he could sense it too. He upped the wattage of his fingers just a little bit more, smirking into your skin as you writhed beneath him.

“Cum for me, baby,” he moaned sensually into your ear, stopping to kiss your jaw. “Cum on my fingers like the good slut you are.”

The room filled with the squelching of his fingers pounding relentlessly into you. You reached a hand out to grip his bicep, digging your nails into his arm. He used his free hand to rub furiously at your clit, pushing you over the edge. Before you even knew what was going on, a clear fluid was streaming from your fluttering cunt, soaking your thighs.

He didn’t stop until the squirting did, watching in awe as you spurted out so much.

If you weren’t so dazed by your mind-numbing orgasm, you would’ve been embarrassed. There was no point in being shameful anyway. Denki proudly licked up every last drop from your cunt and thighs.

He suckled on your neck as he waited for you to calm down, your convulsing body settling into a light tremor as you came down from the euphoric feeling.

He pulled the damp panties out of your mouth, and replaced them with his cum-covered fingers, discreetly tucking your underwear in his pocket as you sucked your flavor off of him.

“Who knew you were so naughty,” he smirked at you, his cock growing harder as he took in your drained expression. “Imagine all the fun we could’ve been having.”

He desperately wanted to fuck you; to feel your tight pussy wrap around his cock like it did his fingers. But it’d have to wait for another time, for your teacher would probably be back any minute now.

“Denki...,” you whimpered around his fingers before he pulled them out of your mouth. “That was so-”

Your eyes widened as you heard heavy footsteps trudging down the hallway, a telltale sign that your teacher was returning. Denki found amusement in your horrified expression, grinning wickedly at you.

“I’d keep those legs closed if I were you. Wouldn’t want to give Mr. Aizawa a free show, now would you?” he chuckled, returning your desk to its place in front of you before sitting in his own seat.

He turned around to look at you once more, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, and you’d better hope he doesn’t see what a mess you’ve made, either.”

Kaminari looked down at the floor below you, and your eyes widened in horror as you followed his gaze to the small puddle under you, expanding as more of your essence dripped off of your chair.

He laughed as you brought a hand up to your mouth and gasped, your face flushing crimson. You felt your stomach drop as the classroom door slid open, a groggy looking Aizawa lumbering into the room.

“I take it the two of you behaved,” he grumbled, sitting down at his desk.

“Yes, Mr. Aizawa,” Denki responded confidently, before turning to look at you. “Didn’t we, y/n?”

Aizawa and Denki both looked at you expectantly, awaiting your answer.

“Y-yes. We behaved, Mr. Aizawa,” you lied.

Aizawa took notice of how flustered you looked, and how pink your cheeks were. His brows furrowed, head cocking to the side as he stared at you.

“Are you alright? You look a little rattled. He didn’t do anything to you, did he?” he inquired, throwing an accusatory glance at Kaminari.

“N-no, sir. I’m fine,” you assured him, offering him a small smile as you lied once again.

He looked at the both of you suspiciously before clearing his throat. “Well, you two are free to go. You can leave your papers on your desks. Enjoy your weekend,” he muttered, averting his attention to some assignments that needed grading.

You were very aware of the small droplets of liquid that dribbled down your legs as you stood up to gather your things. Denki noticed too, not even trying to not make it obvious. You were just grateful that Mr. Aizawa was too preoccupied to notice.

You left the classroom with unfinished papers and a puddle on the floor, both of which the two of you would probably have to answer to when you returned to class the following Monday. But you both were too excited about the new dynamic of your relationship to care in that moment. All either of you could think about were the inevitable escapades that were surely in your future.

~

a/n: that escalated quickly 👀 a sequel to this can definitely be expected to come in the near future!

[gamebunny-advance]

Grab Bag Doodles

Alright, brief story time: so for the past couple of months now, my laptop has been crashing randomly. Obviously, that’s not something I can deal with if I’m drawing or otherwise working on other projects. It was getting so bad that I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to boot it again, and I just can’t afford to lose what was on there. So I got a replacement, so I could transfer everything before the old one stopped working completely.

On the bright side, aside from crashing several times during the transfer process, I was able to get all of my files moved over, including most of my programs, so I managed not to lose anything important. On the bad side, reinstalling everything means that a lot of my settings were lost, so I had to remake my workspace on CSP, and there are some programs that just don’t work anymore because this new one uses Windows 11 (so, no more Rhythm Heaven remixes from me unless I start up the old one again and pray that it doesn’t crash while I’m working).

These doodles are from me trying to get all my settings back together.

Right now, everything feels pretty good again, so now I’m pretty much where I was before. Hopefully I’ll be able to open the follower milestone requests soon. Till then, my notes:

1) Inking Test. I decided to test out my brush settings by trying to line the Vtubesona sketch I posted a bit ago. It wasn’t lined with the intention of actually rigging this, but I do really like some of the ideas in this one. I feel so close to having a final design.

2-3) More Android and Shapeshifter designs. I don’t really understand what I did differently, but I really like Android’s face in this one. It’s cuter~ I also ditched their goggles because their head area was starting to become a huge mess of *things*. It just didn’t work when the rest of the body is pretty plain by comparison. Not much to say about Shapeshifter. I think the twin tails are cute~ I also sketched a “buffed” version, but I’ll post that one another time.

4-5) More NSR Crossing. Just some quick doodles. I did a couple of the other megastars too, but I did them all without reference, so I don’t want to post ‘em until they’re a little more accurate.

6) Kliff doodles. Was originally gonna be another full spread, but I stopped at just 2. What if NSR was completely the same, but Kliff was a puppy?

7) 1010 Iterations Guide. Just something I made to make sense of how I see the 1010 “family tree” as it were. This guide applies to both my general headcanons and my AUs.

8) Galeem doodle. Haven’t drawn this asshole in a while. I don’t use them often, but I wanted to test using CSP’s models and poses function since I restarted. I think it can be very useful for blocking out a pose, but somehow it feels more like “cheating” to use them, than it does when I just use a photo reference, so I try to use them sparingly.

[axoxtxhxh]

Sorry but I need to do this lol

For the headcanons/drabbles prompts I'd like to have "Dirt" with Levihan if you have time, please :')

Thank you so much for the request! ❤️ Sorry this took so long. I've never written anything LeviHan before and I really struggled trying to make it good. I hope you like it!😬

LeviHan – Dirt

It was no surprise that Hange’s favorite part of their house was the large greenhouse in the backyard. When Levi was searching for a new house, he knew this would be their choice. It didn’t matter that the house itself was old and nearly falling apart, once he saw that greenhouse and the look on Hange’s face when they saw it, he knew this was going to be it.

That’s why it was completely expected that Hange would be in the greenhouse the majority of the time, playing around in the dirt. Afternoons and evenings, they would be in there planting new hybrid creations and studying their growth. It actually worked out well considering the state of the main house. Several pipes needed replacing as well as floorboards and nearly all the walls needed to be repainted. With Hange in the greenhouse, it gave Levi the uninterrupted time he needed to complete the work around the house.

He wouldn’t consider himself a handyman and if some of the work was above his capability, he was more than happy to hire someone. Most of it wasn’t too bad and he definitely enjoyed the excited remarks from Hange when they’d come in after a day in the greenhouse to see another part of their home fixed.

“Nice work, shorty!” They would rub his hair and he would back away quickly, holding back a smile. “If you need help, I can help you tomorrow.”

“You’ll only mess it up. You can help when it’s time to paint” He’d respond. While he did enjoy Hange’s company, he enjoyed seeing their face light up while they talked about the new plants they potted or new seedlings that sprouted while they ate dinner together.

Each morning, Levi would wake up and Hange would be in bed. He would get up and move downstairs, put a kettle on and start making breakfast. Hange would come down shortly after and they would eat and chat and quickly start their day, Hange in the greenhouse and Levi in the main house. When it was time for dinner, they would meet back up in the kitchen and talk about their day.

“Cornelia started growing flowers!” They exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement as they sat down. “I’m unsure what the flower color will be since her mom was blue and her dad was yellow. It’s anybody’s guess!”

“Did you even wash your hands?” Levi reached up and wiped the bit of dirt off of Hange’s nose.

Days like this were always nice and it was only a couple days before this became routine. The house was nearly fixed up and Levi started on painting.

“Let’s paint this room yellow.” Hange told.

“Why would this room get color when everything else is white?” Levi questioned.

“I think this one gets nice sunlight. It should have a bright color.” They smiled at Levi, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Yellow walls will look like piss.” He complained, but saw the dejected look slowly grow on Hange’s face and sighed. “We can paint it green.”

“Green is perfect!” They smiled.

The next morning, Levi woke up and Hange wasn’t in bed. He moved downstairs and put on the kettle, heading outside to the greenhouse and seeing them potting a new plant. The greenhouse was full of plants at that point, but that didn’t stop them from planting new ones. He watched them talking to themselves and laughing with the plants and he shook his head, knocking on the window to get their attention.

Hange looked up quickly, seeing Levi and smiling. They removed their gloves and started cleaning up while Levi went back into the kitchen to start breakfast. By the time Hange made it back inside, breakfast was on the table.

“What made you get up so early today?” He asked, wiping the dirt off Hange’s nose.

“Just checking growth.” They smiled, but he knew Hange well enough to know that was a strange answer. Not to mention they were just in the greenhouse last night. How much growth could have honestly happened?

When Hange went up to shower, Levi snuck out to the greenhouse and looked inside. He couldn’t see anything through the window so he opened up the door and went inside. Hange really did have so many plants in there. So many different varieties, different colors, different sizes. They put in so much work and it made Levi smile.

He saw their notebook in the corner on the table and walked over to it. He opened it up and saw the detailed notes taken each day Hange was in there. Little doodles were on the corner of each page. Some of them were plants threatening to eat a person, some of them were pictures of an angry small man that Levi could only assume was himself.

Levi huffed as he closed the notebook and a gust of wind blew the door shut. A tiny plant on the top shelf fell onto the counter in front of him and broke, dirt spreading out in front of him and on the floor. Something that must have been hiding in the pot caught his eye and he looked closer, moving the plant out of the way and picking it up. He brushed away the dirt covering it and his eyes widened in shock.

Inside the main house, Hange sat down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, trying to warm up after their shower. They noticed Levi stomping his way over from the greenhouse and the backdoor opened up and he stepped inside. As he approached the table, he tossed the small piece of plastic in front of them.

“This is the growth you were checking on?” He complained.

“Ah, so you found it.” Hange rested their chin on their hand, propped on the kitchen table, looking up at Levi with a smile. He moved closer to them, holding their hands.

“When were you going to tell me?”

“I started to yesterday, with the paint colors.” Hange picked up the small piece of plastic and looked at it. The two little lines they saw so clearly that morning were faded, completely unreadable, and their eyes moved to Levi. “Levi, do you know what this is?”

Hange held the plastic to Levi and he looked at it again.

“You need to piss on it.” Hange stood up, putting their hands on Levi’s shoulders.

“I already did piss on it.” They said with a smile and the hardness in Levi’s faded.

“Are you going to tell me what it means?” He swallowed as he waited for Hange to speak.

“Levi?”

“Yes?”

“I’m pregnant.”

There was a moment of pause where Levi stared at Hange unmoving and Hange stared at Levi, waiting for his reaction. The air was so thick that neither one felt like they could breathe while they each let the new information sink in. Levi stepped forward, his hands moving to Hange’s waist.

“Hange?”

“Yes?”

“If you already pissed on that plastic stick, I’m going to need you to get it away from my shoulder.” He eyed the pregnancy test in Hange’s hand, nearly grazing his ear and Hange laughed, pulling him closer and Levi’s hand gently rubbed the tiny little not-quite-there bump of Hange’s stomach.

[trashcankitty12]

Helia Headcanons

Helia Scofield, nephew of Saladin; Master Artist in the making.

Don’t let his soft demeanor and pacifistic leanings fool you; Helia’s up for the fight if he’s needed.

(All headcanons are mainly for my verses: Left and the New Company of Light. Fair warning.)

-Helia was born to Harley and Hannah Scofield.

-Hannah, Saladin’s twin (and the elder twin, thank you) is an illusion-based witch who works with her Great Uncle’s army. She’s a commander of the Pegasus Unit of the Callistan Army, and unlike her brother, tries to keep herself out of trouble.

-Harley’s more of a gentle soul who enjoys art and runs an art gallery in Callisto.

-As you can imagine, his parents, though loving to him and though they did love each other at one point, have had many disagreements about their lifestyles and what would be best for the family.

-Harley was more pacifistic while Hannah preferred to ‘face things head on’. (Both have great strategic minds though, and… Tended to use them against each other.)

-At a young age, Helia showed potential for magic. Hannah and Saladin tried to help hone his potential skills as a wizard, but the best he could do was simple spells to make himself faster and stronger than normal and to send magic notes. (And a few other minimalistic spells. He couldn’t do anything fancy like his mom and uncle though…)

-It didn’t really bum him out too much though. In fact, it was partially a relief that he wouldn’t have to worry about hurting someone with his magic if his feelings or concentration went out of control. And he had an easy way of keeping his utensils nearby while he was working.

-Helia was in a junior sword fighting league as a kid, something his Uncle Saladin and his mother were very proud of. (Though his father thought it reckless and dangerous and ugly… Even if there was a sort of elegance to sword fighting when done right.)

-He also participated in art clubs at his school and did his to earn high marks in elementary and middle school. (He tended to be a daydreamer and often spaced out in class, especially if the subject was boring to him. Which became another argument for his parents.)

-When he was about 12/13, his parents decided to divorce. Hannah relocated and deployed to serve in Magix at the Callistan Embassy (and to be closer to her brother). His father remained in Callisto.

-He was actually happy that they finally divorced, thrilled to never have to hear one of their ‘we’re not really arguing, just having a heated discussion’ sort of fights. Having to decide where to live and what his plans for the future, however, made him sick.

-His social anxiety was through the roof anyway, and on top of all of this… His art took a bit of a dark turn and so did his poetry.

-How dare his parents fight each other and then demand he choose? How dare they implode on him like this?

-(Faragonda and Griffin were honestly the best people during this time. And so were his childhood friends. They helped him keep his cool and realize what he wanted and how to go about talking to his parents about this stuff.)

-Helia left the sword fighting league, he never really enjoyed it anyway except for the moments he was benched and could sketch the matches. And he decided to stay with his father and enroll at the Callistan Art Academy. His mother was so proud that he wanted to follow his dreams, and agreed to weekends and holidays.

-(Honestly his parents were just happy that he was talking to them again instead of pushing them away. They were so worried, they even went to therapy so they could try and do better for Helia.)

-Helia stayed in touch with some of his sword fighting league friends and kept up with his childhood friends when he went to the Art Academy.

-He loved showing off his new works and talking his friends into being models for some of his works. (One of his favorite portraits is of his best guy friend posing with his new weapon after being accepted into Red Fountain.)

-His parents did move on from each other. On his dad’s side, he has a stepdad and a lovely younger stepsister who adores him. (And he has a half-brother on the way!!)

-His mom remarried a fellow soldier, Monroe. And Monroe has two children of their own; Seneca and Marie. (Older stepsisters… They’re loud and boisterous, but they mean well and Helia enjoys watching them pose and give him fashion shows to help out his own work.)

-Though he was only at the Academy for a short time, Helia discovered many things about himself. (And made friends with the Princess of Linphea who had gotten in despite her age. The fairy is truly gifted in making topiary art.)

-He loves his charcoal brushes and using colored pencils when doing sketches. Something about the way it moves on the paper just makes him so happy.

-And he does love to paint, though he’s not much for water colors. (And never ask him to do a digital piece. The last time he tried working with a tablet, he nearly got electrocuted. Granted, it was probably a one-time thing, but he took it as a sign.)

-Poetry is second love, aside from sketching and painting. He loves being able to verbalize his feelings and put the words down that he can feel inside. Its one of the few ways he feels he can truly connect to people, since it’s easier to write down the words instead of saying them. (Though he has done poetry readings from time to time.)

-Between portraits and landscapes, Helia prefers landscapes. And he’d really gotten into architecture drawings before he left the Academy.

-Because his parents were often busy when he was a kid, he found he had useful skills to ‘adult’ while at the Academy and on his own for the first time. (He can cook fairly well, at least, you know what you’re supposed to be eating and it tastes pretty good. But he’s no Chef Langdon.)

-He was great at keeping his room spotless and clean. His workspaces however? Not so much.

-Over half his wardrobe is stained with either paint or charcoal or clay.

-(Yes, he can do pottery. Just not very well. In fact, it usually looks pretty shit, but hey, he tried.)

-After seeing the news about what happened in Magix and how his uncle’s school was destroyed and the people he cared about nearly died, Helia decided to transfer. (Which took a lot of convincing with his dad and the Dean of the Academy and Saladin.)

-But once he was in, he was in. And when given the choice about his weapon, he went with one his mother loves to use, the laser-string gloves. Great for restraint and for quick weapon-recovery in battle without potentially causing further harm.

-Add in his ability to make himself stronger, and he can wield that glove with the confidence of a sword fighter.

-He quickly clicked with Timmy once he joined their squadron, despite the two having different views of technology.

-Helia was Riven’s roommate though, and while their personalities didn’t compete with each other, they didn’t completely get along either. (Riven reminded Helia of Hannah with his ‘let’s just face it’ ways and Riven felt Helia wasn’t much of a hero if all he did was restrain instead of fight.)

-Of course, as time went on, Helia and Riven do have respect for each other, and have many inside jokes that came from their time living together.

-Helia quickly found he was one of the ‘advisors’ of the group, with everyone coming to him for advice. He was flattered, sure, but dudes… Just because he managed to get what he got, doesn’t mean he knows how he did it.

-Aside from training with his gloves, he’s good using a whip and decent with a sword. Bows and arrows/anything needing aim isn’t his strong suit. He’s also not the best at giving reports on how things went on their missions, which is why that task gets delegated to Sky or Riven.

-He trained as a medic too, deciding that while he wouldn’t be the best in a fight, he can help with the aftermath. And his squad kind of needed a medic aside from Timmy and Brandon…

-Helia may not enjoy fighting, but he’s not above doing what’s necessary when the people he cares about are in danger. There have been plenty of times, not just when saving the Magical Dimension, that Helia has risked his life and limbs to protect his friends.

-One such incident was a survival trip to the Marshlands of Amanal. Brandon never would have made it home in one piece if Helia hadn’t thrown himself at the hippogriff. (And he somehow managed to befriend it afterward. No, he has no memory of how he did it.)

-Helia tends to be a stress-sketcher. Worried about a test? Doodles on his notes from class. Worried about an upcoming mission? Sketchbook in hand. Relationship issues? Sketchbook.

-Oh! He’s a great pilot too! Helia has a great sense of direction and has grown up around the ships, so he knows how to work them. (Now, if you want to know what makes them tick or how to put them together if they fall apart, ask someone else. Preferably Timmy or Riven.)

-Helia has a whole stash of teas. A collection, if you will. (Something that he blames Faragonda for, but hey, it’s not the worst habit ever.)

-After all the traveling he’s done thanks to Red Fountain, Helia sort of understands better why his mom and uncle loved their military days so much. Seeing new places, learning new things, enjoying new foods… It’s quite an existence. (If you can look passed all the fighting and wars and invasions…)

-Yes, Helia does yoga. He also enjoys dance. (And with friends like Layla, Musa, and Nabu, he never has to do it alone.)

-Some of his favorite people to sketch: Flora, for her grace and beauty and the way she seems to just breathe life into natural settings; Sky, for his posture and presence and ability to always appear in charge; Layla, for her strength and grace and how every body of water seems to be at her command; and finally, Timmy and Tecna, As a couple, those two just radiate this feeling of joy and it just… How can you not want to sketch it?!

-(Kiko is also a favorite sketch subject. The little rabbit just has so much personality!)

-This may come as a shock to people, but Helia enjoys horror movies. Preferably the psychological/thriller-based horror movies. It’s the way they capture human emotion and it’s just so poignant and interesting. He wants to learn how to convey such feelings in his work.

-Between his parents, you’d think Helia was closer to his father… In actuality, he’s closer to his mother.

-His mom enjoyed doing things and showing him things and just getting him to be more active and curious as a child.

-His father was more of a watcher. An observer-type. Always looking for something awe-inspiring for his next piece. (Something Helia and Harley bond over now. And laugh at, from time to time.)

-Helia enjoys swapping sketching ideas with Bloom and Stella, looking to see what they’re up to and how they can try and work off of each other.

-(And he has done some physical character sheets and layout ideas for Tecna’s video game idea to help her see her vision more clearly.)

-Helia doesn’t play a lot of video games. They’re just not his thing… But he does have a soft spot for the Sims series after Bloom introduced him to it, and he enjoys this maze creation game that a Solarian gaming company came up with for phones (level 200!!!).

-He swears more than people think he does. It’s almost comical how shocked people are when they meet this ‘sweet and soulful guy’ and then he drops a few ‘f’ bombs while working on his projects. (Not just ‘f’ bombs either… Dude gets creative with his curses. Even Riven’s impressed.)

-Helia didn’t go to Earth with the others, instead taking up a job offer on Callisto to help with remodeling his great uncle’s barracks. (And now, the castle itself… He’s so honored it’s his designs in the works.)

-However, he does visit from time to time. It makes him a little sad though, seeing Earth the way it is. All the pollution creating cars, the strange fashion, the way people seem to disregard each other. It’s so sad.

-When the ‘saving the Magical Dimension’ stuff stops, Helia’s hoping to join with his father’s art gallery and to build on his portfolio of projects. (He knows he already has a few jobs waiting for him, like Stella’s coronation portrait for when she becomes queen.)

-He just hopes his works inspire and touch people the way they do as he works on them.

[browniefox]

The One with the Motorcycle

@wrightfamilyweek day 4 - Free day! Which I took to mean 'shove my headcanon here'. At first I wanted to do something with Ryuunosuke, but I still haven't finished tgaa so uhhhh sorry my boy. Also, you can find this on AO3 here.

In which Trucy and Phoenix decide they need to find a more reliable method of getting around. Luckily, Phoenix already has a vehicle registered under his name.

oOo

“Does this mean that when I turn sixteen, I’ll get a motorcycle license?”

Trucy skips alongside her Daddy as they walk through the aisles of the storage facility. They pass locked garage after garage. Trucy has always known that her Daddy had somewhere he stores a bunch of stuff that doesn’t fit in the office, the stuff he used to keep in his apartment back when he had one, but this is her first time coming along with him.

There’s been a lot leading up to this. Now that Trucy’s getting a little older, there’s more things she wants to do, or go to, and Daddy seems to be getting a little busier too. He’s started going down to the library more often, and having some kind of meetings for lunch, and getting calls by people Trucy doesn’t know. They’re both getting busy, and buses and taxis only get them so far. Daddy had declared, in an almost resigned-sounding voice after they missed a bus and had to wait underneath the bus stop in the pouring rain for another thirty minutes, that perhaps it was time to find a more reliable method to get around.

“Dessie says she’s running a little late, but she’ll be here soon.” Trucy is in charge of the phone while Daddy frets over the pieces of paper in his hands, crinkling the edges up in his nervous hands.

Daddy doesn’t reply to this either, just keeps walking forward. Trucy frowns to herself. Daddy’s been kind of weird about this whole thing. From getting the Learner’s Permit, to the practice drives and lessons with Desiree, to his final test, but now if anything he seems at his most awkward and strange as they approach the storage unit.

They final come to a stop, and Daddy pulls up the metal door.

If old case files in the office were little glimpses into who Daddy was before Trucy knew him, this place was an in-color photograph.

There’s cardboard boxes with ‘sketchbooks’ scrawled on the front. There’s a dead plant in the corner. There’s a stack of picture frames, an old couch shoved into a corner, and a small wood table with rings from the ghosts of old drinks, a few splashes of paint marring the surface. There’s some art supplies shoved off in a corner that Trucy immediately goes over to, and piles of books Trucy hasn’t read before, and Trucy wants nothing more than to stay here all day and look through everything and anything in sight.

In the middle of the storage unit, however, is what they’ve come here for.

It’s a lilac-colored motorcycle. There’s an unhealthy-layer of dust on it - there’s a layer of dust on everything in the room - and Daddy brushes his hand over the seat and handles, sending a plume of the dust into the air. He starts sneezing and coughing over it and Trucy laughs a little at that. She stops in a moment, though, because of the almost-grim look on Daddy’s face as he stares at the bike.

They’ve been building up to this for months, in reality. Trucy realizes this now, that everything up to this point has been to get this motorcycle out of the garage and back onto the streets, because it was a vehicle Daddy already owns, and he wouldn’t have to go through the hassle nor money involved in getting a new one. But it’s also all conflicted with Daddy’s attempts to distance himself from the past.

Daddy wants to move forward in life, she gets that, but it makes Trucy sad anyway to see how nervous and resigned he’d looked about so much as calling the Delites for help. Like doing that much is losing something.

“So this is Aunt Mia’s bike?” Trucy asks, going over to it as well. She doesn’t know anything about things like this, but it looks like it’s in okay condition. It’s certainly not as shiny as Desiree’s, but it’s not bad.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. Sorry I haven’t by.” He says, and she can tell he’s not talking to her. His eyes are fixed on the bike like sometimes he’ll stare at Charley for what seems like hours on end; it’s never for that long, but it feels like it might be at times. He tilts her head to Trucy and explains, “I used to come by and try to keep it clean and stuff, but things have gotten… complicated. I’m sure Mia’s upset I haven’t done more to maintain this since she’s been gone.”

Ah, it’s one of the days where he’s talking about Aunt Mia in the present tense. It’s hard to tell if that’s ever a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe it’s just A Thing he does sometimes. Even after four years, there’s still so much Trucy hasn’t figured out about her daddy. Sometimes, he talks about Aunt Mia as the dead person she is, gone and out of this world, a deceased but loved person, just like Trucy’s mommy was talked about. Other days, though, it’s like he expects Aunt Mia to walk through the door any minute.

“Alright, well, let’s see what we can do before Desiree gets here.”

Daddy’s temporary license, the edges of which are almost torn up by his worrying hands, is set aside on top of the sketchbook box and he grabs a towel from one of the other boxes, setting to work on a more thorough dusting. Trucy searches through Daddy’s phone for the list of what to check for that Desiree had texted him and passes it over to Daddy.

Trucy picks a stool out from the mess of things and rifles through the sketchbook box, finding one and flipping through it. There’s mostly little doodles and the like on the pages, or realistic portraits of faces Trucy doesn’t recognize. She wonders if, were Daddy not so determined to distance himself from the past, she’d know any of them. There is a picture of Miles, and she knows him, so she smiles at that picture and lightly brushes her hand over the pencil markings. Miles looks really angry in the picture, and scribbled right next to him is ‘I’ll save you’.

And Daddy did.

“Alright, let’s see what we have to work with today!”

Desiree announces herself, carrying her own box of tools

“Thought you might not show up for a moment.” Daddy jokes, but it’s one of his hollow-sounding jokes. Desiree laughs anyway.

“Oh please, I’ve been waiting to get a look at this beast for myself ever since you told me about it!” Desiree says and starts going over the bike. She talks about oil and gas and spark plugs and batteries, looking over everything and digging through her stuff and checking things. She says they’re going to need a new battery, and definitely replace just about all of the fluids. Luckily, Desiree is well-capable of doing all of that, she assures them, and they’d be able to get it up and moving enough to get it to her shop where she could do some of the rougher things to do.

“How much do I owe you?” Daddy asks, and Desiree waves her hand.

“We can discuss that later, let’s focus on getting this beauty out of this dusty-old place and back here she belongs, huh?”

Desiree has said that every time, so far, that Daddy asks about price. Trucy can see that it means Desiree doesn’t really want to make Daddy pay for any of it, but it seems to put Daddy more and more on edge every time Desiree says it. He’s waiting for something bad to happen, and his tension over it bleeds into Trucy, even though she’s not worried. Desiree is a nice lady who likes to chat to Trucy and can talk a mile a minute about motorcycles. When she’s not talking about them, she’s talking about her husband, Ron

They walk the bike out of the storage facility, Desiree filling the space with chatter about what the make and model of Aunt Mia’s motorcycle is, and the pluses and minuses of it, and how it’s lucky that it already has a backseat for Trucy. Daddy says that he used to ride with Aunt Mia sometimes, eyes trained on the bike still, as if he expected it to fall apart at a moment’s notice.

Desiree’s red-hot bike is parked out front and she tells them to meet her at her shop. She’ll be able to finish up there, where the rest of her supplies is.

“Don’t worry, she should be able to get you there just fine. And anyway, you can tell me if anything starts sounding worrying!” Desiree says as she climbs onto her bike. It’s been what Daddy has been practicing on, what Daddy even passed his driving test on just yesterday, and the rumble of it had just started to become familiar. Trucy feels like she’s going to miss it, but she’s excited to see how Aunt Mia’s bike works out.

Desiree peels out and leaves Daddy and Trucy standing on the side of the road, Daddy regarding Aunt Mia’s bike like it’s a python that’s going to bite them.

“... maybe this was a bad idea.” Daddy says five months too late.

“You worry too much! C’mon, Dessie’s waiting for us!” Trucy hops next to him, excited to get on the bike. Daddy sighs, turning his helmet over and over in his hands. Trucy has her own, bought a couple months ago, but she hasn’t been allowed on a bike yet. ‘Not until I get my official license’, Daddy had insisted. Now is the time, though.

“But what if something happens? What if I crash, and you get hurt?” He says. Trucy feels a ripple of shock run through her and she looks at Daddy’s face. His expression is grim and an open wound of his emotion. Of worry and fear, “What if I crash and I ruin her bike? What if-”

“Daddy, you’re being dumb” Trucy informs him. Daddy looks at her, and she can already see him starting to close off again, but she steals the last few moments of honesty she can, desperately, “Daddy you can do this, okay? We’re going to be okay. Even if we have to go five miles an hour to get there.”

“I think I’m actually worse at driving slow.” Daddy grumbles. Trucy grabs his hands.

“Then we’ll go really fast. We aren’t giving up on this just because you’re scared.”

Daddy sighs and then ruffles her hair.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It’d be stupid to give up right now. It doesn’t matter how long it’s going to take.”

They put their helmets on and climb onto the bike. They both hold their breaths when the engine first starts, and then it roars to life. It’s different than Desiree’s although exactly how, Trucy isn’t sure. She wraps her arms around her daddy’s stomach as they get going, keeping her eyes open. She isn’t scared, she can’t be. She needs to seem sure and trusting over this, for his sake, for their sake, so that they can make it through here together.

Things don’t change a lot with Daddy. They’ve lived in the same place for all this time, and Daddy’s worked at the same bar, and Trucy’s worked at the same bar, and they have the same routines day to week to month to year. This is new, this is change, but it’s a good thing.

They roar down the streets for the first time, Daddy is shaking, Trucy can feel it with how tightly she’s holding onto him. The air roars past them, chillingly-cold.

He did this for me, Trucy thinks, and then, no, he did this for us. For family, so that we can keep moving forwards .

If they had stood still, they would’ve been alright with buses and taxis and rides from friends. But they are moving forward in life, they need the ability to do more, be more independent, further their own things.

And help, here they had help, from Desiree, and from the thoughtfulness of Aunt Mia to leave Phoenix to her bike, and Ron had told Trucy before that Phoenix had helped them (Trucy had already known this, she’s read that case and every other case what feels like a thousand times over, her illicit self-read bedtime stories) and that they’d been wanting to do something for the man ever since they heard about The Disbarment.

It’s sort of funny, how independence and getting help seemed to go hand-in-hand.

Trucy and her Daddy roar down the streets, and her grip loosens as she gets more comfortable, and Daddy stops shaking so badly as he gets into his groove, because he’s done this before and has been training and practicing, and he knows how to ride a bike now, and Desiree has taught him how to maintain it, and now, now they are going towards a new normal, a new schedule, a second half of the darkest time of their lives (of course, Trucy doesn’t know this, and neither does her daddy, and now it seems like the shadows is simply where they will always be living) and they prepare to meet it together.

[didimentionthatimawriter]

Heads up, this is a long post, but it's important. Please read it. Some people may have been able to guess this based on the last couple of posts I've shared, but I figured I should make an official post about it here. 

In January I got officially diagnosed with Moderate ADHD, Predominately Inattentive (for anyone who doesn't know, this is what used to be known as ADD, but it recently was grouped with ADHD because of the similar symptoms). What this means is I have a hard time focusing and paying attention, have problems with forgetfulness, but I'm not as hyperactive as other people with ADHD might be.

This isn't something that I've caught or developed, this is something that I've had all my life and it went unnoticed. I still remember getting in trouble when I was in elementary school because I was really slow at doing assignments and could never finish anything on time because I spent the whole time daydreaming instead. To this day I have a really hard time paying attention in lectures without daydreaming, doing something else like doodling or writing notes for a story, or getting very restless and fidgety. 

How did I not get diagnosed until now? It's actually very common for women with ADHD, especially the inattentive kind, not to get diagnosed until they are adults. Girls with ADHD in particular go under the radar because of this stigma that ADHD makes a kid (usually a boy) super hyperactive and you can't get them to sit down and be quiet unless you give them a pill. Kids with inattentive ADHD are mostly just brushed off as ditsy daydreamers who need to get their heads out of the clouds, but it's not that easy. Sometimes, sitting down to listen to a lecture or get a task done is physically difficult. 

I didn't get diagnosed until recently because I had been able to cope with my symptoms for the most part. I made decent grades, I had strategies to force myself to pay attention, I had study groups to go to where I had to make myself do work. The biggest problems I faced were that tasks took me so much longer than everyone else to do and I still daydreamed a lot, but even that was used to my advantage since I pursued writing fiction.

Everything that happened with Covid-19 and quarantine took away all the structure and routine I was used to, and my symptoms got worse. Then I moved out, got an apartment in a whole new city with whole new people, a job, entered a Master's program, all without an established routine to get my feet on the ground. Suddenly doing a reading for class or writing a 200 word discussion post was impossible, or would take me three times longer than everyone else did. It could take me three hours to read and annotate a 20 page article. I had major imposter syndrome, my anxiety got worse, I started having very bad depressive episodes, and I couldn't cope with anything anymore. This led to a decline in my physical health, too. I remember it got so bad I once went a week without showering because I either didn't have the energy to or I just forgot to. 

I only ever considered ADHD after one of my friends who had been diagnosed with it recognized some of the symptoms in me and suggested I get tested. I did, despite people (including myself) trying to convince me there was no way I had it, and it came back positive. I also got diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder. 

I'm not sharing this for people to pity me or worry about me. I'm fine. I'm getting help and learning how to cope with this, (and I've made a lot of improvements), and I'm hoping that when the pandemic is officially over and I can get a routine back in place it will be easier to manage. I'm sharing all of this to stress how important this is and I want to help raise awareness for it. People who weren't diagnosed and given treatment as kids often develop anxiety and depression because they have such a hard time keeping up with the pressures of everyday life. Statistically, the links between mood disorders and ADHD make adults with ADHD 14% more likely to attempt suicide than people without it, and it's especially bad for women.  (Source here: https://www.usnews.com/news/health-news/articles/2020-12-29/adhd-raises-adult-suicide-risk-especially-for-women )

The best thing we can do to make those numbers go down is to recognize it and treat people for it before they develop those other disorders, and the first step is to get rid of the stigma that goes along with it. ADHD isn't always a kid unable to stay in their seat or blurting out in a discussion, (in fact, some of those kids may not even have it and are just disregarded and given pills to make them manageable, but that's a whole other issue).

ADHD is having 500 different thoughts running through your head at once that you can't drown out. It's spending days obsessing over whatever your hyper fixation is on and forgetting about your immediate responsibilities and relationships. It's having a decent vocabulary but forgetting most of it or mis-speaking  when you're trying to write or talk to someone. It's experiencing a lot of stress and anxiety about tests or projects with time limits. It's forgetting people's birthdays or not talking to an old friend for a long time even though you miss them because they aren't there with you and your mind is on other things. It's procrastinating working on big projects because there are so many things to do now that something due not now doesn't feel as important, (then promptly getting extremely stressed out when that big project is due soon and you haven't even started on it). It's getting so overwhelmed with the things you need to do that you disassociate and can't get out of bed. It's becoming paralyzed with indecision. It's spending more time preparing for a task than actually doing the task. It's wanting to do your best but not having the capabilities to do it. 

ADHD is hard to deal with, but it does not make someone any less of a person. I'm not ashamed of it, but I want people to understand it and learn how to work with people with it. People with ADHD aren't lazy or uncaring, they just don't think the same way as normal people.