#just big sketch pile to share again

[little-paperhat]

~~hands~~

[motthe]

hiii !! just read like ,, a BUNCH of ur lumen au stuff ,,,, truly i am brainrotted now because i'm just thinking of so many different scenarios involving the lumens and i am just . EXCITED !!! its SUCHHHH a good concept im a big big sucker for soulmate stuff ,,,,

i was just wondering how you feel about jayvik x reader ,,,, TWO lumens ,,,,,,,, idk if you write for anything poly or not, but id love to hear your thoughts on it !!! either through headcanons or a ficlet, whichever you feel like :]

my first viktor x reader x jayce piece i’ve ever written… wait is this my first poly drabble?? it might be actually! i hope it’s fun to read ♥️

warnings: fem!reader, slight negative feelings of not being good enough, but overall fluff!!!

The scientific jargon that came with having not one but both of your fated being inventors was overwhelming. The words they tossed around became an entire other language since you’d all gotten closer. It left you feeling unbearably empty-headed, wondering why the universe would bond you to such intelligent men.

They were already changing an entire city with their ideas, and you would bet the world would soon bear their mark as well. In comparison, you were a meager artist making ends meet at festivals and street corners. Sure, maybe your work could be seen on a few shop signs or covering a wall or two in a cafe, but that was as famous as you’d ever be—a stranger to the passing eye.

“We need to widen the cylindrical chamber, maybe add an exhaust pipe to help with the cooldown.”

Jayce’s voice slipped through your head, smooth and confident and making no sense. You’d gotten rather good and tuning out the meat of the conversations, only recognizing the tones and emotions.

The heavy, warm accent of Viktor’s replied, swirling in the back of your mind as your pencil swiped over the heavy parchment against your thighs.

Recently, they’d begun inviting you to their lab to spend your free time in their company. There were two desks to choose from, though they were usually piled high with blueprints or notes. Jayce had moved a couch into the space for your comfort, placed in the corner and under a window, well away from any dangerous work they had their hands on, though they usually took anything too precarious into another portion of the building.

Their assistant, Sky, was in and out, always double-checking if you needed anything. She was a kind young woman, curly hair and glasses and a smile that made anyone feel at home. She brought you your own coffee and snacks, promising it was no trouble since she was already bringing them to Viktor and Jayce, anyway.

“You actually eat them,” she chuckled. “Jayce will if he notices they’re there, but it’s a long shot most days.”

You understood what she meant, seeing how focused the men became on their gadgets and studies. You’re sure if you got up and left they wouldn’t notice for a good, long while.

Today was one of those days, though there was peace in your private little corner as you sketched away. You squinted over the top of your sketchbook, skimming the outline of Viktor’s goggles pressed into his thick, winding hair and quickly adding the little licks of tresses to the paper before he was moving again.

You switched targets, taking in Jayce’s side profile and adding a bit more depth to his eyebrow and under eye.

Taking a moment to look between both drawings, you were hit with their beauty once more.

Jayce was deemed the academy’s “pretty boy,” with his strong jaw and perfect smile. He was a clean cut handsome, peak health and built with broad shoulders. He knew how to use those looks to his advantage.

On the other end was Viktor. He was a haunting beauty, sleek and angular. If he had the same charisma with speaking to the masses as Jayce did, that accent would gain him more than a fair share of admirers, but his confidence and skills lied elsewhere. He had a sharp eye and wore his emotions rather loudly on his face.

Where Jayce had faint lines from how much he smiled, Viktor had a feather soft crease between his brows from how often he furrowed them. Where the golden boy’s hands were always warm, his partner’s was cold. They made such gorgeous opposites, yet they held so many comparisons in mannerisms when it came to their shared hobbies and passions.

It was safe to say you adored them and their intricacies.

Taking a slow, deep breath you checked both shoulders before moving the tuft of black in your periphery into your hand. Gold shimmered between the dark mass that made up Jayce’s lumen, settling deeper into your palm as you raised your arms and stretched.

When you moved your drawing pad to the side, you spotted Viktor’s wedged between the apex of your thighs. Swallowing your gasp, you scooped it up, praying it hadn’t been smushed the entire time.

“When did you get there?” you whispered, rubbing your pointer finger into the tawny fuzz of his light. His lumen had always had a bit more give to it, leaving it to wedge itself under your leg or your shirt collar. Viktor’s preferred to be as close as possible to you, even if it left his lumen squished.

Jayce’s lumen was firmer, still soft but in a velveteen sort of sensation. It was bigger, taking up a good portion of your palm. Now your second month with it, you’d learned if it wasn’t on one of your shoulders, it was likely circling your head. His never went far either.

You wondered if you’d received Jayce’s lumen first, if it would have more of an attachment to you. As it stood, you’d had Viktor’s since you were young while he’d held Jayce’s and Jayce yours. The three of you being tied together had become quite the story as there went many outward poly fateds in Piltover, but luckily the gawking had passed after the first handful of weeks.

It was only a few days ago that Viktor confessed he’d been rather confused when he’d met Jayce and the lumens had flashed against one another.

“There were no similarities,” he’d explained, holding up one long, thin finger for your lumen to rest on as it hovered in front of him. The three of you were cozied up in your lackluster apartment—a studio more than a bedroom but it had a nice pullout couch and plenty of blankets to rest on in front of your heater. “Jayce was ecstatic, of course, but I was ruminating over your lumen when we first met.”

“I thought he hated me,” Jayce had murmured, breath warm against your ear as you laughed.

“I did not hate you,” huffed Viktor on your other side, rolling his eyes as he dropped his hand, your lumen resting within. “I wasn’t aware we had a third, yet—it was puzzling.”

“I had to explain it to him,” Jayce chuckled. “One of my old friends was in a poly.”

“And, then, he was even more ecstatic,” Viktor sighed but there was affection in it. “I thought you’d follow him home some nights.”

“And leave you all by yourself?” You laid your head on his shoulder, grinning as his eyes fled. It was still so early into the relationship, and he grew flustered with physical affection whereas Jayce sought it every chance. “I’d never.”

“It’s better now, we’re all together,” Jayce hummed, lowering to lay his head in your lap. You brushed your hand through his hair, smiling as his lumen lit up in Viktor’s lap.

“Yes,” Viktor had agreed, careful as he laid his head against yours. “It all feels…complete.”

Your chest warmed at the memory as you held both of their lumens in your hands, giving a fleeting kiss to each. Viktor’s snuggled happily into your palm while Jayce’s pulsed a happy gold before flying off, likely to check in with Viktor.

As your eyes lifted to follow its journey, you jumped when you found Jayce smiling from a few feet away by his desk. He seemed to be shuffling through some papers. Your lumen floated just nice his head, twinkling in the sunlight that shone through the windows behind you.

“Didn’t see you there,” you said, stretching your legs out before standing. Viktor’s lumen left your hand, keeping close to your neck.

“I hope you’re not bored.” He opened an arm up and you approached. You still grew giddy with any chance to be wrapped in his embrace, quick to accept the invitation.

“I like spending time here with you both,” you assured, giggling as he bent down to kiss your forehead. “Gives me plenty of practice.”

His eyes lit up, one of those dark eyebrows lifting. “Oh?”

“I know what you’re about to ask—”

“Please?” His arm wrapped tighter around your waist. “I wanna see.”

“They’re just rough sketches!” you laughed, pushing against his chest.

“C’mon, I bet they’re great! I’m sure Viktor wants to see them, too.”

You shook your head, a mess of giggles as he wrapped both arms around you and slowly edged his way towards the couch.

“Did someone call my name?” asked Viktor, turning from the machine he was working on. A torch was in his hand but luckily still off for the time being. Jayce’s lumen was sitting on his knee.

“Viktor tell her you want to see her art!” Jayce goaded.

“Tell him he needs to wait for a real piece,” you threw back, wrinkling your nose at him as he stuck his tongue out.

“You’ve been drawing us?” Viktor’s voice seeped with awe and innocent curiosity. “May we see?”

Jayce bounced his eyebrows at you, all too smug. “Told you.”

“Fine—fine!” you sighed, throwing your hands up and wiggling out of his hold as you went to grab your canvas notebook. “Don’t gripe when you see your half-finished faces.”

The tap of Viktor’s crutch intermingled with Jayce’s footsteps as they met you by the couch. As you handed over your work, Viktor was the one to accept it as Jace stood over him. Both their eyes went wide at the current page and your hand went straight to your arm as you shuffled in place.

“Those are just warmups, so…”

“Warmups?” Jayce breathed, looking up from the notebook. “These are amazing!”

“I have to agree, the detail is astounding,” Viktor hummed, looking to turn back a page. He caught your eyes before he did. “Is this all right? Tell us if we’re overstepping.”

“No, it’s okay! I’m used to people watching me draw on the street, it’s just… I don’t know.” You shrugged, bringing a hand up as Viktor’s lumen rubbed against your neck. Jayce’s was just settling on your shoulder again. “I care about what you guys think. It’s not anything big like you do, but…”

“Big?” Jayce echoed, both of their sights set on you.

“Well, it’s not as important as what you both do is what I mean.”

“Of course it’s important,” Viktor argued, expression stern.

“But it’s art!” you laughed, waving off the sudden seriousness growing from them. “It’s helping a bunch of people like your creations do. That’s much more important.”

“Art is just as, if not more, important,” he continued, passing the notebook to Jayce. “We are helping people in different ways, but do not do yourself the disservice and think what you create is anything less than what we do.”

“He’s right,” Jayce agreed, holding up your work. “This? This speaks to people. Your work can bring life to a room and lets people save a special moment in time.”

“Okay, don’t butter me up so much or I’ll melt!” you squeaked, too embarrassed to look at them as they chuckled and continued flipping through your sketches. It wasn’t long before the three of you were on the couch, both of them pointing out their favorites.

“Is my hair truly that messy?” Viktor grumbled, raising a hand to it. “Perhaps I should cut it.”

“No, I like it,” you said, grabbing his wrist. “You twirl it when you’re thinking! It’s so sweet.”

He blinked at you. “I do?”

Jayce whistled and you turned and gasped, completely forgetting the drawing you’d done of him in the forge. It was more from memory so your imagination had left it a bit more detailed than the rest.

“Okay, that’s enough!”

You swiped for the book, shutting it as Jayce laughed. Viktor rolled his eyes, smirking as he nudged your shoulder.

“Should I be worried of any scandalous pieces of me in there?”

You pouted, holding the notebook tighter to your chest.

“Oh?” Jayce breathed. “She didn’t say no!”

“You two are the worst!” you groaned, unable to help yourself from smiling as they both laughed in tandem.

[frantic-fiction]

Shattered Glass 18+

(Gif: leopardmuffinxo)

Astarion x f!reader

Summary: Astarion finally makes do on a promise.

This is part 2 of Secluded Evening. (Could be read as a stand alone)

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, oral fem receiving, PnV sex, unprotected sex, biting (of course) Astarion being a lovesick fool

Word count: 2.6k

Astarion threw another log on the fire; a flurry of embers took flight, dancing in the cold night air. The rest of the camp had already settled in their tents. You were nestled between his knees about five feet away from the flames. A throw blanket cascaded down your shoulders—a notebook on your lap. 

He studies the rapid strokes of your hand from over your shoulder. The rough lines of charcoal were blooming into an identical copy of Laz'eal. Astarion pulled a strand of hair away from your eyes and began to weave your locks into a simple braid. He doesn't have a hair tie, and knowing you, you've lost yours. So, he twists the pieces, and once done let's go, kissing the crown of your head. 

You barely acknowledge him, and when you suddenly shove the pencil over your shoulder, Astarion chuckles, taking it from you. He watches you begin smudging the charcoal with the pad of your finger. You're adorable when your art consumes you. Every time, it captivates Astarion.

This was how most of your nights were spent. Not always precisely like this; sometimes Astarion brought a book, and sometimes your hand got too sore to draw, so Astarion read to you as you curled on his lap. But as long as it was spent in each other's company neither of you cared much for the activity.

Astarion adored these nights the most, primarily because he could feast his eyes on your beauty without you shying away or throwing a stupid joke at him to break the tension. You were perfect in every way, and when he opened his heart briefly and confessed the broken pieces of himself and the motivations that led him to you. All you did was look at him with unspoken love and hugged him. 

Your relationship became something more after that. Sex was not what drew the two of you together. For the first time in 200 years, Astarion had someone he trusted with his every sense of the word. Someone who wanted more than his body and showed their love for him without words. Someone he wanted to spend every moment of his life with despite the fear that thought causes him. 

Astarion thinks he loves you but can't find the words when his mouth opens. He's always struggled with expressing his true feelings, but he wants to try with you. He wants to bear his heart to you and show you all that you mean to him. And with all the trust you and Astarion have established, one thing has become a very big problem. 

You have begun to treat Astarion like glass, as if one sexual touch will break him. And frankly, it's pissing him off. Astarion finally has complete control over his body and a partner who he trusts. A partner that can bring him to his knees with a simple giggle and to put it bluntly, gods you were fucking sexy. 

He's frustrated, horny, and has no idea how to ask for anything he wants. And for fucks sake, if he wakes from a meditation to have you grinding against his erection again, he just might explode.

In his frustrated musing, he didn't notice that you had placed your sketch pad away. He only noticed when you cupped his jaw and moved his eyes to meet yours. "What are you thinking about, handsome?"

It takes a moment for Astarion to collect himself as he stares at your soft smile. "I was thinking it's about time we get you, my sweet, to bed," he pecks your lips before grabbing your wrist and entwining your fingers. You nod and press a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

Astarion holds the flap open, and you duck inside. Kicking your pants off and into the corner, you unceremoniously plop down into the pile of cushions. You began sharing a tent in the shadow curse lands. Astarion found out pretty early on that nightmares of Cazador were less likely when you were in his arms. And thankfully, you slept better, too. 

You prop yourself on your elbows and silently watch Astarion move about the small space, removing his outer clothing. He seemed to be stalling, almost like he was silently debating with himself. Astarion is in his underwear when he seems to come to a conclusion. He takes a deep breath and moves towards you. Kneeling by your feet, you watch as Astarion hesitates, his hand resting softly on your shin. Hesitation is soon replaced with a devilish smirk that stretches across his lips.

"Whatcha thinking about pretty boy?" 

Astarion doesn't say anything, just slowly begins to crawl up your body before capturing you in a breathtaking kiss. His knee is between your legs; your hands are around his neck, pulling him flush against your body. You sigh softly into his mouth, moving your hands to caress his cheekbone.

He tongues the seam of your lips, and you are quick to gasp, giving him access to lick deeper. Astarion's hands are caressing up and down your curves, cupping your breast and tugging the metal bars of your nipple rings. His mouth moves to your throat, sucking hard at your jugular. 

"W-wait!" You choke out, causing the elf above you to freeze. He's quick to remove himself from you, putting some distance between your bodies. 

"Shit, did…did I do something wrong?" Astarion's voice cracks; you've never heard him so unsure of himself. You pant hard but are quick to sit up and fall into Astarion's lap, his arms instinctually wrapping around your waist.

"No, gods no," you sigh, cupping his jaw and pressing your forehead against his. The tension in Astarion's shoulders drops, and he squeezes you a bit harder.

"Then what is it, my sweet?"

That has you pausing to figure out the best way to say this. "What was your plan?" Shit, that didn't sound good

"My plan! Are you serious?" He's already pulling away, shutting off completely when you pull him back tightly.

"No! Th-that's fuck, that's not what I meant, Star," at least he's not trying to run, but he's as stiff as ever. "Astarion, I will be as blunt as possible because I care about you. Were you trying to have sex with me because you felt obligated?"

This isn't what Astarion expected you to say because he can't mask the look of surprise. He opens his mouth to speak before clamping it shut. He does this twice more, but you don't rush him, you push stray curls behind his ear and wait. 

"No." His voice is small. He clears his throat before speaking again, stronger this time. "No, I want this, and I would appreciate you stop treating me like fucking glass."

“What?”

You're flipped over, and suddenly, on your back, Astarion's body pressed closely against yours. He ruts against you. His cock was hard, feeling painfully constricted in his underwear. "I appreciate your patience with me, darling, but I need to clarify one thing to you right now."

Astarion licks a long stripe up your collarbone, ending just under your ear. You moan softly, trying desperately to roll your hips up into Astarion. "I have never wanted someone more than I wanted you. So, if it's okay with you, my sweet, I'm going to take the rest of our clothes off, and you're going to finally let me feast upon the sweetness between your legs."

You whine and buck, trying to get anything from Astarion's unmoving body. "Tsk, no, no, my sweet. Use your words." He purred, nipping your ear.

"Please! Yes! Oh gods, Astarion," 

Once the words leave your lips, you're tearing at each other's clothes in desperation. After you are both fully undressed, Astarion shoves you back onto the cushions. You expect him to pounce but he hovers staring down at your naked body.

Astarion's deft fingers grab your foot, and he presses a soft kiss to your inner ankle. A pang of heat flared through your lower abdomen. He kisses up to the top of your calf before giving a playful bite. You release a soft yelp, and Astarions lavishes the bite with his tongue. He slowly moves up to your inner thigh, leaving various bruises in his wake.

 You're gasping as he ghosted over the spot you wanted him most. His breath fans over your dripping cunt, and you swear he's about to give you what you want. Then he kisses you. Just one small peck on the public area just above your clit, before he retreats. You cry, and one of your hands card into Astarion's white locks. 

“No! Please!”

 He begins the same slow ascent up your other leg, paying just as much attention. "Now, as much as I love those beautiful noises you make for me. Remember that our camp members are trying to sleep; you can be a good girl for me, right?" He gazes up between your parted legs, and you nod and swear if he asked at this moment, you would have given him anything.

"I thought so," Astarion purred before licking up the entire length of your pussy. You moan out and swiftly clap your hand over your mouth. Then suddenly Astarion is a man starved.

His hand grips the underside of your thighs hard and pulls you down the bed as close as physically possible. He sucks, and licks, piercing his tongue sloppily at your dripping cunt, and you're a mess of pleasure. Your grind against Astarion's face, his nose rubbing beautifully against your clit. If it weren't for Astarion's hands keeping your thighs parted, you probably would be crushing his head in your desperation.

A low groan rumbles from Astarion's chest, and he focuses his attention, sucking tightly on the bundle of nerves. He slips his first and middle finger into your cunt and curls up, causing you to gasp for air. 

"S-star…oh gods!" You cried, and he was ruthless with his assault. Astarion pumped his fingers quickly, the sloppy sounds of his mouth mixed with your muffled moan. Your stomach was coiling with pleasure, and you were embarrassed with how fast Astarion was picking you apart. "I'm close." you whimper, rolling your hips against his face. 

Astarion, after a moment, releases your clit. Still pumping you with his fingers, he looks up at you, chin glistening with your arousal, a smug grin lazily plaster on his lips. "Come for me, love, be a good girl."

With the last few slips of his fingers, the coil snaps, and you're falling apart. Eyes unfocused, muscled tight, the silent gasp of ecstasy stuck in your throat. Astarion watches in amazement and arousal as you come apart so thoroughly with just his mouth and fingers. His cock is aching pre, now dribbling down the shaft. 

Once your orgasm slows, you feel the immense need for more. And with Astarion still nestled between your legs, it has you moving without thought. You push Astarion back and plant yourself on his lap. You mash your mouth against him, chasing the taste of yourself on his tongue. 

Astarion groans and cups the back of your head, deepening the kiss. Your palms roam down his chest, smoothing down his abs until you come to his neglected cock. It's swollen and red, and when you grip it softly, Astarions hisses into your mouth, bucking into your palm. 

Smearing the pre-come around, you slowly work your hand up and down Astarion's dick in long, languid strokes. His eyes glaze over, and he moans, head dropping to your shoulder. Astarion's cold hands fondled your breast, and he leaned down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. He pulls the metal piercing softly with his teeth. 

You whine and tug on a fist full of Astarion's hair, rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock. "Fuck, darling." Astarion moans, moving to give your other breast equal attention. Your positive marks will be littering your body for days following. And the thought alone causes you to clench your thighs. 

You pump your hand faster, and Astarion meets everyone with thrusts of his hips. He claims your lips again in a sloppy dance of wet tongues. Then suddenly Astarion stills your hand.

"If you keep this up, I'm not going to last much longer." Astarion's pants, nudging your nose with his.

"Isn't that kinda the point, handsome?"

"Not if I want to come apart feeling you clenching around me," Astarion's voice is breathless, and you moan at the thought. He kisses your cheek, then your jaw. Trailing his way to your neck. "Would you like that, my sweet," 

Whatever power you had over Astarion had just turned to dust. You bite your lip and nod quickly, letting Astarion push you on to your back. You part your hips, and Astarion slots right in. 

"Words, my love. You do know how much I love your voice." Such a fucking tease.

Linking your arms around his neck, you pull him down, hitching one of your legs over Astarion's hips. "Please…I need you to fuck me." 

"Shit…" Astarion groans. Taking himself in hand, he smears his dick with your arousal before filling you agonizing inch by inch. 

The two of you let out a collective cry of pleasure, and you feel complete. Astarion pulls out and slams his hips back, ripping the oxygen from your lungs, and sets a steady pace. You clutch at his shoulders, digging your nails into exposed skin. The slick sounds of Astarions pumping in and out of you were depraved and did nothing but fill your lower abdomen with molten lava. Astarion wholly consumed your senses. 

The coolness of his lips left lingering kisses on your arched neck. The smell of bergamot and rosemary flooded your nose with each shaky inhale. The saltiness of any skin you could taste. It was too much and not enough all at once. 

The scrape of Astarion's fangs graze his favorite feeding spot, and you grab the back of his head. "Yes! P-please…" and soon, the icy pierce of his teeth is followed by the cool tingle of pleasure that flows through your body. 

Astarion grunts as soon as the blood touches his tongue. He ruts faster against you, grinding you into the blankets. He has to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep your voice from waking the whole camp. 

But what can you do? Nothing. Not when his other hand begins to roll your clit in tight circles matching his thrusts. Your hands trail down his back, legs hooking tightly around his torso. The angle of your hips changes, and Astarion is pounding into the spot that has you seeing stars. You're close, and you try to say so, but Astarion hand is still tight around your mouth. 

After a last mouthful of blood, Astarions peppers kisses over the bite. "I know, my sweet, I'm…fuck I'm close to." 

His fingers are rubbing your clit faster, and his hips aren't letting up the brutal pace. Your legs are quaking, and you feel like you might faint. You clench tightly around him, and then you fall apart. Suddenly, Astarion's hand is gone, and his tongue is in your mouth, capturing every whimper of pleasure you give. And with a few more swallow sloppy thrusts, Astarion falls over the edge with you, filling you with his spent.

Astarion continue to languidly kiss you, both hands cupping your face like you are the most precious creature on the plane. He barely grinds his hips, feeling the last of your orgasms fade until you are both too sensitive. 

And it's like someone cut the puppet strings. Astarion falls limply onto you, blanketing your body with his. You comb softly through his hair, gently pulling out any knots. Astarion kisses your shoulder before rolling off of you. 

It is silent for a while as you stare into each other's eyes. Astarions is the first to speak. "I love you," His words were barely above the whisper, and if you weren't staring intently at the man, you might have missed it. 

You're speechless. Were you dreaming?

"I still believe you deserve more than the broken man before you. But you've chosen me, and I have felt true happiness for the first time since waking up in my grave. And well-"

You don't give him a moment to finish before you're in his lap and tackling him into an embrace. "I love you, Astarion." 

The dopey grin on his face has you breaking into your own. You press your forehead to his, and he hugs you tightly. You don't know what tomorrow brings. But being here, seeing Astarion's smile, and knowing he loves you just as much as you love him. It feels like you can do anything. 

Okay, friends, this was just so fun to write. Let me know what ya thought. I swear all the love and support I've received from my last few posts have been so amazing. I'm so excited to show you more!!!

If you liked this, maybe you'll like one of these?

Happy Birthday (fluffy)

Reoccurring Nightmares (hurt/comfort)

Tag list?: @heartfully10

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: you share your first kiss with Daisuke.

tw: idk, insecure reader?

a/n: this turned out kinda meh, starting to burn out, I'll start with the actual plot in the next one.

wc: 1.4k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

You hadn’t meant to peek. You honestly thought it was a book you forgot you brought. Well, that was until you noticed the leather book had no title, which you then assumed was a sketch book your parents gave you in a misguided attempt as a gift that somehow ended up in your book pile. But when you opened it you realized you were sorely mistaken, sketches of pokemon, digimon, and the crew littered the pages. This was Daisuke’s sketch book. Not only was it because no one else on board would draw pokemon (as far as you knew), but the farther into the book you went, the more the pages were just filled with images of you. Whether it be just little stick figures of you and Daisuke holding hands, or full on detailed sketches of your face, all the way to your name doodled on the corners with his last name (or vice versa). 

Oh gosh, you felt like a monster. You weren’t supposed to be seeing these. Daisuke must've left it in your room by accident and here you were paging through it without his permission. You were a terrible partner. Snapping the book close, you squeezed your eyes shut. Why the hell did you keep looking? Damn you and your curiosity, you broke a boundary that you only hoped could be mended. 

With determination to make this right, you marched out of your room, the small book clutched to your chest. Thankfully it wasn’t too late, you had just been getting ready for sleep when you stumbled upon it after all. Honestly, it was surprising Daisuke wasn’t with you already, the two of you shared a room more often than not these days. It wasn’t a far walk to his rooms, everyone's sleeping quarters were close to each other. Knocking on his door, you didn’t have to wait long, the open door revealing Daisuke with his gameboy in hand.  “Hey,” You greeted.

“Hey,” He replied back, glancing up at you before quickly looking back at his game. “Jus’ give me a sec. I’m almost done with this level.”

“Okay,” You murmured, shuffling over to sit on his bed. That made Daisuke paused for a second, glancing at you once again and noticed your nervous expression. Biting his lip, he let out a groan when the game let out the familiar sound of losing, you had unintentionally distracted him and he failed again. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he tossed the handheld console to the side, plopping down next to you. He needed a break anyways, he had been trying to beat that level for thirty minutes straight.

“What’s up?” Diauke asked, tilting his head to get a better look at you.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized, holding his sketchbook out to him. “I didn’t realize it was yours and I looked through it. I should’ve stopped when I realized it wasn’t mine but I kept looking. I am so sorry.”

Taking the book from your hands, Daisuke put it to the side and instead gently grabbed your hands, a small smile tugged at his lips, “Hey, it’s alright. I don’t mind, not that big of a deal.”

You paused, staring at him, eyes wide and slightly confused, “You’re not angry? Aren’t those personal? I went through your stuff.” It was like you were trying to justify your guilt, not able to accept the fact that you had probably over thought the whole ordeal. Not able to accept the fact that you could be forgiven so easily. Why wasn’t he angry? Or annoyed? Sure, he always seemed laidback and carefree, but he was still human. You had seen him insecure, and bummed out, it wasn’t out of the wheelhouse to see him at least peeved as well. 

“It was an accident,” He shrugged, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. “And it’s mostly just silly doodles, nothing to get upset about. I’d let you look at them if you asked…or even give you a few.”

“There seemed to be a few personal ones,” You murmured, hands tightening around his own, but your argument sounded weak even to you. 

Letting go of your hands, Daisuke opened his sketch book and flipped to an image of you with little hearts surrounding it, a mischievous grin on his face, “You mean the ones like this?”

You opened your mouth, face warming at how nonchalant he was about it. Glaring at him you huffed, “I can’t stand you.”

“Is it a crime to draw the one you love?” Daisuke asks dramatically, putting a hand over his heart. 

“Yes,” You responded in a deadpan tone. 

With a pout, he replied, “Well, you can’t blame me for wanting to draw something pretty.” 

Giving in to your impulses, you leaned forward and smooshed his cheeks in between your hands, “You can’t just say things like that and get away with it.”

Daisuke merely giggled, grin brightening under your palms. This was supposed to ease your cute aggression, not make it worse, but it seemed you still didn’t have a full understanding of your emotions. Perhaps you never will fully understand it, but what you did know was that you were going to make him pay for his crimes. 

Leaning forward, you place a short kiss on his forehead. Your heart jumped when you made eye contact, his brown eyes shining, watching you in awe. It pushed you to go further, moving your palms from squishing his cheeks to holding his jaw, assaulting his face with fluttering kisses. You made sure you didn’t miss an inch, stomach twisting in knots at how much affection you were sharing, but also feeling oddly content. When you finished, you pulled away enough to make eye contact once more. 

Daisuke felt his heart pound in his chest, his cheeks warm and eyes wide in awe. You had been pretty reserved in your relationship so far, not that he minded. You were clearly out of your depth, unsure how to accept and offer physical affection, but your kind actions and words showed how much you cared. Although he was also new to the whole dating thing, being affectionate with you had become second nature to him. Having you not only act first, but cross a boundary neither of you dared to cross took his breath away and made him feel all melty. 

Sure, you hadn’t kissed him on the lips, but neither of you had done more than hold the other. The feeling of your lips continued to warm his skin, and he couldn’t help but wish you just laid one on him, but he also respected your wishes. If you weren’t ready for that, he wouldn’t push. He wanted you to go at your own pace since you were clearly more uncertain in the relationship. 

“You missed,” Daisuke teased, watching you with a warm gaze.

Pouting Scowling, you smooshed his cheeks again, causing him to laugh. Your blood thrummed in your ears, your heart speeding up and you continued to feel more confident in your actions. You glanced down at his lips, should you…? Was that him giving you the okay? Were you even ready for that?

Apparently tonight was a night of acting instead of thinking for you. Relaxing your hold on his face, you placed the shortest peck on his lips in recorded human history. Daisuke barely felt it, but it still made his breath hitch. You had actually kissed him, lip to lip, the whole smoocharoo. You stared at each other, wide eyed and hearts beating in tandem. Such a simple moment for some was world changing for you both.

“Can…can we do that again?” Daisuke whispered, scared to break the atmosphere.

You nodded, a shaky okay spilling from your lips. It was Daisuke’s turn to act first, closing the gap between you and pressing your lips in a light kiss. You press your lips to his a bit firmer, but your inexperience shows as you're left unsure how to proceed. You felt a bit embarrassed, but it was hard to keep that thought as Daisuke smiled so much you ended up having to pull away. 

“We gotta work on that,” He muttered, his grin betraying his giddiness. 

“I think you just want more kisses,” You murmured back, feeling your heart skip a beat. 

“Can you blame me?” He laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“Must be your lucky day then.”

“The luckiest.”

[see-arcane]

Well.

Here I am again.

In-between half a dozen other projects, the writing exercise that was supposed to be a light distraction has taken off without me. Once more, a very vampiric flavor of horror. But this time it’s so close to the Dracula source material that it’s living in it like an accursed undead poison. Or the bedeviled solicitor who first wrote on that horror in the first place.

That’s what Harker is. Those who have read Dracula before will know that, being a novel built of diary entries and sundry documents, the narrative is boiled down to what events the characters bother to record. Of special note is how the opening and closing protagonist of the book, Jonathan Harker, becomes progressively curter in his descriptions as certain grim events pile up.

So much so that he pointedly avoids recording the bulk of his two month-long captivity in Castle Dracula. And whatever it was that happened to him between the castle and his stay with the nuns. And just what exactly happened to him upon realizing what happened on the 3rd of October. Among a hundred other little omissions a reader only detects by the vacuum they’ve left as the entries of other characters sketch around them. Artful as Mr. Harker may be when in a descriptive mood, vital as his words are for the whole of the story, he’s shockingly silent on huge gaps of time and very significant occurrences within them.

Which bothers the hell out of me. Especially when there’s roughly a jillion elaborations and inventions made from swiveling the perspective to (Suddenly in love with Dark Sexprince Dracula~) Mina or (Very Definite Vampire Expert Badass Actionman) Van Helsing or (Ohhh, I’m so misunderstood, those babies and sailors and assorted murdered chattel had it coming and those human heroes were just stuffy cliché Victorians who were so meeean to meee) Dracula or (Actually pretty cool?) depictions of the nightmare aboard the Demeter. And yet we’ve got nothing for Jonathan? Not one single spinoff dedicated to filling in the blanks between journal pages?

It can’t stand. Not for another Dracula Season. So, I’m a-scribbling.

Whether this winds up as a proper book or not, I figured said scribbling has gotten big enough that it was time to carve out a piece to share. Hope you guys enjoy the read and any future updates.

You can read the Chapter 1 Teaser via:

Tumblr

PDF

Author site

(And remember, I already have a book published if you want to read about some modern gothic undead horrors! The Vampyres is a short and sinister read with its own preview sample to comb through. Hope you’ll have a look.)

[omgahgase]

more charthur headcanons/drabbles bc i'm mentally ill over them

charthur cuddling can go one of two ways: they're both suction-cupped to the other octopus style, limbs thrown over hips and hands twisted in hair or night shirts, their legs tangled together so tightly that, in the morning when their bodies ache and their joints click, they have to gently maneuver out of the pile they've made themselves. or, and this one is more likely bc they're both human furnaces so it gets hot under the covers, they're on totally opposite ends of their bed, their blanket lost somewhere on the hardwood floor of their room, but one of them has a hand stretched out, either gripping a hip or gently placed on a broad chest. sometimes both of them do, just to feel the easy rise and fall of their breath. just to know that the other is still breathing

arthur is an avid tree climber. charles will find him sketching out the scene from a branch that should've been difficult to scale to for a man of his size, but arthur somehow got up there. charles will follow him bc of course he does, and when he's sitting pretty next to arthur, their feet dangling and shoulders pressed together, he finds himself giggling. arthur would ask him what's so funny and charles will remind him of the dumb song jack used to sing about his parents when they'd share a kiss in front of him. "charles and arthur, sitting in a tree," charles would sing. "K-" arthur says before he pecks charles on the lips. "I-" another kiss. "S-S-" two more, right on charles nose, the curve of his brow. "I-N-G," he finishes the song by kissing charles twice on both of his cheeks and then plant a big one right on his lips, smiling into charles' laughter

arthur loves dogs, that's a given. he's the type of guy to bring strays back to camp and him and jack would spend all day bathing them and feeding them, making sure they're patched up from injuries and the like. charles doesn't mind dogs, he's fond of cane, but he'd rather his lover bring home a quieter pet, maybe one that charles can tend to without getting slobber all over his clothes. it's not until one day, charles is reading under the shade of a tree when arthur runs up to him, more eager than a honey bear in a bee hive. "guess what i found you." charles doesn't want to guess, but still, he indulges. "more fiber for my bow?" "no." "moonshine for flaming arrows." "no, but i'll get right on that. tomorrow." charles shrugs, dog ears his page and stands so him and arthur are level. arthur also kisses him in greeting bc he can't help himself. as if charles can't help himself either when he pulls away. "what, then?" arthur reaches into his pack and pulls out the most least likely thing charles ever thought he'd have. "you found me a...turtle?" arthur nods, happily, nearly sending his hat flying off his head. "you said you wanted a pet that don't spit on you, an' i thought cats were outta the question too, then i found this 'lil guy in the grass near the pond!" arthur scratches the turtles head with his finger, and charles, despite himself because what the hell? almost coos. the turtle is pretty cute, about the size of arthur's palm, and something in charles' chest tells him to hold it. so he does. and within in seconds, he's in love all over again, with both this small creature and his cowboy. "thank you," he says, reeling arthur in by his handkerchief and kissing him soundly on the mouth. arthur responds in kind, kissing him back and winding an arm around charles' waist. "never thought our first kid would be a reptile," he jokes, smiling into charles' shoulder as charles tucks his new friend against his chest. "it could be worse. you could've brought home an alligator." arthur hums, trails his arms around charles' middle, hooks his chin over his shoulder, and sways. "what a strange 'lil family we got here, huh?" charles chuckles, and sways with him. "i wouldn't have it any other way."

[yuurivoice]

How are you doing today Yuuri? :)

Good! I'm finally starting to un-fixate from my bonus room project I started out of nowhere and became really obsessive about (it's the mental illness) and I'm back on polishing up things for the Wiki. I'm at the point where I'm straining my brain to cover bases I might have missed (just made Derek's character page) and will begin proofreading soon.

BitterSweet Director's Cut video edit is rolling, Thoo has been locked in. Jackie just completed sketches for BitterSweet Chapter 4, ep 1. The audio edit for Thomas ep 1 is rolling. Lots of shit happening, I just don't have a lot of front-facing updates to share yet.

The writing itch is back though, so I think I'll be slashing through piles of "to be written" stuff soon. My whole routine has been nuked since December and I'm only just now starting to get things back into place. Hopefully by the end of the month I'm really cooking again.

The return to regular schedule should be upon us in the next couple of weeks, I just want to focus on having some of these big things locked in before distracting myself with content for the sake of content.

I'm very excited about my Garden Variety Finn plans, finally. After significant amounts of time of me just staring at him wondering wtf he's supposed to be doing, I was able to connect the right dots and come up with a plan. It doesn't hurt that it was also in conjunction with the tentatively planned Finn plushie, but hey, whatever kicks my ass into gear works for me.

I've been wondering how I should go about canonizing GV Finn, how I could make clear distinctions between what was purely Content vs the Narrative, and I've conjured up a lengthy story about what Florist Finn is up to with his listener, defining that listener a bit more clearly, and giving Finn a very specific direction and vibe that will stick.

So that's really cool and exciting!

[juustozzi]

@thepinksky18 hello, and thank you sm!! <3 I hope it's okay to reply like this, I got kinda carried away with reference images..! I can try to share some things that help me with my art, hopefully they'll be of some help for you too!

when I do group pics like this, the thing I focus on the most is how everything looks and feels together! details and stuff can wait for later, first is to figure out that the overall picture works, and the characters are in balance with each other!

I'll use the Tenma horse pic you replied to as an example, will be continued under read more!

here's the sketches for the art! the very first sketch is very simple and blocky (I usually use a thick brush) to just settle everything in place and see how it all works out. the second sketch is more detailed and sometimes deviates from the first sketch a lot, if something seems to work better some other way.

depending on the complexity of the finished art, I do just these two sketches or add one more even detailed one, but the last sketch before lineart is the one I tweak the most! usually I draw characters on different layers so it's easy to select them separately and resize, fix proportions or positions, etc. to make the big picture look good to you!

here's the lineart (which could also be the 3rd sketch) compared to the previous layer. now I'm adding more details, but I still keep fixing the overall image - you can see how the lineart doesn't quite match the sketch in places: hikaru is shorter, the position of aoi's feet and tenma's hind legs are different, etc. some people like to do a very detailed sketch and practically trace their lineart over it, and if that's what feels good for you, go for it! I'm the kind to just throw lines over vague sketch and call it a day, especially with more simple drawings like this :,)

there's good tutorials and studies on bodies and proportions online already so I'm not going to even try to speak about those, but I got a few tips! I tend to do them in my mind nowadays, but I tried to draw them out for easier visualization!

I mentioned earlier how for me the main thing is that everything's balanced, right? that also inclues characters and their proportions. I think that in group pics it's more important the characters work out together, not so much if their insividual proportions are perfect. especially if there's notable differences between them - height, bulk, lenght of limbs, and so on! a few pixels here and there don't matter in the overall image, but for example with Shinsuke who is Tiny, it's important for me to really make him smaller than others.

my most used tool is a scale chart! it helps to visualize the proportions for the characters, even when they're piled up like in the example doodle, or otherwise not in a neat row on the horizon line. (again, separate layers help you tweak them individually if needed! there's no need to get them right on the first try, especially when drawing digitally when there's layers.)

if your drawing eye hasn't gotten used to proportions, the chart can also be used to make a neat little ruler to check your sketch! the rulers over the sketch are all same size, just moved around; tsurugi and shinsuke fit in pretty well, and while Tenma's torso is a little long (even when taking into accound he's a little bent from waist, which makes him even taller when straightened out), it's not by much and it wouldn't bother my eye.

and while I myself sometimes tend to be a slave for the references and get gray hair over minor details, or of some part of the anatomy is off and I can't fix it the way I want, the overall feeling and style mean a lot more! I think it's important to put some thought into the proportions especially if you feel like wanting to make progress with your art, but if it's getting too stressful or draining the joy of drawing out of you, then screw it and just have fun! (I say this as someone who has learned not from studying anatomy and stuff, but instead just. has drawn a shitton and had fun while at it. I think getting comfortable with just creating is the bigges step you can take!)

...oops, sorry if this got too long or off the rails! and yeah hopefully you (and anyone else reading all this) got something out of it!

[green-crow]

Needed a bit of a break from studying (almost done!!!) and decided to play around with an OTP prompt generator. I like grabbing a couple of prompts and writing a small thingy based on em, so Imma share em for the funsies

"Hilda and Viggo laying together in a field under the setting sun. Hilda is weaving flowers together to make a flower crown while Viggo is laying on their back watching the sun sink below the horizon."

A soft hum reaches Viggo's ears as he lets himself relax for once, laying down on the field. The humid blades of grass tickle the few spots where his armours fails to cover his skin, and the gentle breeze carries a soft yet welcomed aroma of various kinds of wildflowers. The waves crash against the cliffs in an almost rhythmic manner, but her hums manage to keep him from falling asleep completely. He opens one eye in search of the source of the gentle tune, but before he can locate it, he feels something getting placed on his head. He looks up and the sight of a flower crown makes the once chief of the dragon hunters smile gently. "A crown for the king of my heart!" Hilda says with a big smile that Viggo cannot get enough of, almost as warm as the now sinking sun. She rolls over from where she was seated and lays besides him, her smile never leaving her face. She props herself up with her elbow and adjusts the crown, her touch gentle as ever as if she was scared of hurting him by accident. She doesn't avoid his scared side — she had always made sure her caresses and kisses didn't lack in those parts of his body that Viggo sometimes loathed, instead giving them even more attention than usual. The serious businessman cracks a smile at her words and lets his head lean into her touch. "I'm afraid I don't have anything for you in return, my dear. Would a kiss suffice?" He asks, a small smirk forming on his face as he already knows the answer. She leans in and happily takes her reward.

"Hilda keeps slipping tiny notes and candid sketches of Viggo into their bag in the morning before they go to school/work, so they can find it during the day."

With a tired sigh, Viggo goes over the pile of documents on his desk. Again. And as he does so, he feels like somehow the pages have done nothing but multiply while he wasn't looking. Again. While he greatly enjoys coming up with schemes to best his enemies and learning new information about dragons to later on take advantage of, there is a side of his business he rather dislikes: paperwork. Being the leader of not only an army but also a tribe comes with days filled with nothing but paperwork: reports, contracts of clients, letters sent by his people... The list goes on and on, and so do those pages. Some require little to no focus from him — merely signing them do the work if he had previously approved whatever the contents of the document were. But others... Part of his clientele wasn't as easily to deceive as he'd liked, and as such they would come up with counter offers to deals he had masterfully crafted to ensure higher profits for his business without giving much in exchange (which of course meant bigger losses for the other side, but he had experience hiding that small detail in the contracts). So, Viggo found himself with no other choice but read long, poorly written legal documents that made him feel like he was dealing with morons. Rationally he knew he couldn't just dismiss them, but sometimes he wished he could make all those papers go away with the snap of his fingers. He let out yet another sigh as he turned the document, his eyes tired and dry. His tent was lit by a few candles that did their best to fight the darkness that had long set outside, but he still found himself straining his eyes at the end of each evening as the sun set and natural light failed to illuminate his desk. He rubbed his eyes softly and went back to the paper, when he noticed something. A small piece of paper, carefully stuck to the back of the document he was reading. He took it off without damaging the paper and observed it curiously. It wasn't long until his lips curved up in a smile and his eyes softened as he read the little note. "You are doing great!!! Remember to hydrate!!!! Love you!!!!". He was by now used to the healer's rather... Unique handwriting, and to the little notes she was so keen on hiding around for him to find when he needed them the most. With a gentle chuckle, he folded the paper and saved it in a pocket inside his tunic, close to his heart, before going back to the pile of documents — but now with a smile.

[greenbirdtrash]

Life's been..really rough, lately.

At this point I'm sure i'm not dealing with just my chronic health problems and a few exhausting and painful conditions on top of that, i feel like I've lost something really important, a part of me, and the things only started to get worse since i got back home from my trip. I'm very stressed, frustrated, overwhelmed and drained by everything around me and i keep struggling with anger issues and suicidal thoughts that started to come back recently. I haven't had that in many years, i used to think i was in a state of remission and that sudden shift concerns me a lot. I no longer feel like myself nor i have any motivation to do things that used to excite me, i keep clinging to the few ones that still do, but they are pretty scarce, and i'm so scared to be left alone with my thoughts while not being able to properly initiate social interactions myself, even with the people i love, as for now i'm trying to avoid them or just cannot find the strength or words to respond to unread messages, which keep piling up... I've lost track of time completely, it just feels so painful and "undeserved" to be cared about. I know i deserve good things and such, but.. I don't really believe in that right now.

They sure have noticed all the changes and they are worried and concerned, but i just can't allow myself to be vulnerable with them or "burden" them with whatever I'm going through, whatever they say, i cannot process it at this point. I do feel like they understand that, yet they are probably tired to hear and see the same things all over again, at least that's how it looks like to me... Fuck it, i keep punishing myself for wanting company, craving to share whatever still gives me a tiny serotonin spark in fear of being rejected again due to being..well, annoying. It's not healthy, I'm pretty sure. It feels like my whole process in therapy is reverting and decreasing rapidly

I also haven't been able to draw for such a long time and even the thought of opening my drawing app or looking at my previous artworks makes me sick. I don't know why. I feel such amount of sudden disgust it fucking hurts to think about it, I'm not even talking about trying. I cried so many times trying to sketch anything in the last two weeks, only ending up deleting everything and i even started to think i might quit drawing altogether if it doesn't get any better. My art just doesn't feel like my art anymore. Like it wasn't even me who did all of it. I cannot express my feelings and emotions, i can't do anything about it and resting doesn't help, i already tried... I've also lost a big part of my income as it was heavily dependent on drawing commissions and making adopts, and it's slowly becoming a problem, too. I just cannot afford myself loafing around in this fucking economy even if i need rest to recover. I'm stagnating, and if i keep stagnating, i will struggle even more, not just with whatever is going on with my mental health, but also with fucking bills. I cannot properly sustain myself and pay my usual part of rent at the same time working minimum wage when the entire country is at war and in a fucking chaos, and i can't find anything better with my current limitations. I can only focus on one thing at once, no one is forcing me to leave the house, thank god, but it still feels like the part I'm willingly doing for the family, it's never enough. I know we heard a lot about moving towards inclusive workplaces, but in our reality and from my experience, ableism still has a strong influence.

I don't know how long I haven't slept properly, most of the times i pass out from exhaustion around the very morning, and it doesn't really work well with my job. My therapist only suggested i get off the fluoxetin and things haven't got much better since then. I'm out of edibles, too. And every night i lay in bed for hours, exhausted, unable to rest, thinking about whether i could survive another day or not and why would i even want to...The constant air raid sirens and shahed drones passing by certainly don't make it any better. My days are a fucking blur.

It makes me hate myself even more. I don't know what is wrong with me. Perhaps I'm just screaming into the void

[scatteriskity]

[Sketches in Ink] Dawning - Ill-Suited

Story: Sparkhunters/Run with the Wind

-verse: Mini Animal Kingdom (oof hello middle school Skit)

Heads-up: some ALL CAPS shouting, an uncomfortably awkward staring contest, Char is going through one of his many weekly identity crises

-

Ace, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, jack, queen, king. 

Slapped down, slid aside. Next pile.

Ace, two, three, four, f. . . eh? Missing card? 

Char jumped to his feet, almost upsetting the neat stacks of already sorted cards. “WHO TOOK THE FIVE OF CLUBS?” 

“Sheesh, I thought you saw a scorpion or something,” Ashi remarked over her shoulder with a quizzical glance.

“Y-you scared me,” Tynu stammered, pressed against the wall, shining scales raised and bristling. Char found it strange that a creature appearing so fierce and imposing as a metal dragon like Tynu could be so. . . un-fierce.

Unapologetically, Char mustered up a “Sorry” and returned to his original problem. “Has anyone seen the five of clubs?”

Ashi set down whatever she’d been working on and turned around fully to face him. The Mississippi kite wore a serious expression - not one of annoyance, not one of exasperation, but a probing, inquisitive glance. No hint of amusement or teasing at all. Char stared steadily back, trying not to feel unnerved.

But at some point during the staring session, something in his concentration slipped, and a distressed squeak escaped his throat.

Ashi tilted her head. “What was that?”

Trying to cover up his embarrassing noise, Char countered with his own question. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I’m trying to figure you out.”

“Oh. Uh. Wonderful.” Char fluffed his feathers and smoothed them down again. “And we can’t do that through more, uh, normal ways?”

The kite blinked. “Care to share?”

“Like. Normal conversation. Friendly talks. Chats about life.” Char shifted uneasily from side to side. Ashi hadn’t stopped staring at him yet. At least she’d blinked. Once. So far.

“Fine.” Finally, her eyes were off him, if only for a moment as she searched for a suitable question. “Why are you here?”

It was Char’s turn to cast the quizzical looks. “Because. . . it’s not time for my training yet and Pedro doesn’t want me around the lab. Actually, mostly Flare doesn’t want me around the lab. Or maybe I just don’t want to run into Flare. She’s scary-”

“No, no - why are you here with the Shadowchasers?”

Char paused, an uncomfortable flicker passing through his mind. As if everything went blank for a little bit and then came back. He opened his beak. “I. . . I wanted. . .”

He had a want, that much he knew. But what was it?

“I wanted to be part of something. An organization. That. . . that could protect me.”

Ashi’s stare softened into something that wasn’t quite sympathy, wasn’t quite sadness, but had some sentiment in it. “Protect you from what?”

The uncomfortable feeling seized him again. He pushed past it and tried to touch the source, but it slipped away each time. His reluctance and its elusiveness repelled each other like two north poles on bar magnets. “From not. . . belonging.” It felt right and not right, at the same time - accurate but incomplete.

“And do you think you belong now?”

No, he realized, he didn’t necessarily belong here either. Some part of him recognized that he wasn’t meant to be here. He was ill-suited for this lifestyle. Perhaps it hadn’t been his true want in the first place. But he was here now, and he’d have to deal with it until he could figure out what he really was looking for.

-

This story (Run with the Wind) was a middle school/early-high school story, my first BIG project hahaa... one of those rare ones that made it past a hundred pages and is sitting at Chapter Ten rather than the others that are in the Chapter Three limbo. Also when I was still in my talking animals phase.

I'm unlikely to revisit it again as a large project, but it's nice having prompts to write extra-canon material that keeps the world breathing ^-^

Character Context:

Charcoal "Char" - Northern Goshawk. Memory-flustered bean on the wrong team. Ashi - Mississippi Kite. Square and stare. Probably very good at poker. Tynu - metal dragon. No bark and no bite. Just very pointy around the edges. Flare (referenced) - Peregrine falcon. A little bit mad. In both senses of the word.

[effigistkim]

Don't be afraid to throw away art work

I just went thru 'the pile' of loose, that is not in a bound sketch book, art work in preparation for taking better photographs of it. And you know what, it's at least half as big as it used to be.

You don't need to keep every piece of art you make.

Maybe there was a time I was happy with what I parted with, it might have been the best I could do at the time, it might have got put away to deal with later. I can definitely tell you that most of it got quickly packed up when I had to suddenly move and I hadn't seen the real thing again until just this morning.

And then I looked over it all, sorted it, thanked half of it for its service, and took it to the recycle bin (and then I remembered I also have a paper making kit I don't really use).

But tearing it up for paper making or cutting it in to slices for paper bead making wasn't going to happen for 'spiritual' reasons. That art had served its purpose and it had to go.

Also a lot of it wasn't very interesting or anything I felt like sharing.

Not "good" or "bad", just a boring piece that served it's purpose while I was doing it and didn't need to hang around.

[indorset]

Reader insert #2

Prompt: None. Inspired by this scene in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

Summary: An explanation to the gif above. Unknowingly (I didn’t plan on it when I started writing) set in the same verse as “visiting Hogwarts”.  Can be read as a stand alone.

Words count: 801.

Rating: G

Warning: none. Though if anything comes up to you, do let me know. 

A/N: I couldn’t resist the forehead touch (again). It’s so soft, just like Newt Scamander. 

You casted a drying spell as you discarded the broken brolly aside; London’s weather was as rainy and gloomy as ever. A pile of papers and envelopes on the floor caught your attention. Casting a quick Reparo at the brolly, you picked up the mails. The flat was dark and quiet.

“Newt, I’m home!” You called out. 

Our home, you smiled at the thought. You have been living together for two weeks now, and it still felt like a dream. There were some adjustments to be made, small arguments over who stole the blanket at night, but you wouldn’t trade anything in the world for this domesticity that you two shared. 

You were sorting through the mail– Muggles, while blessed for their invention of electricity and the sewage system, had managed to send all sorts of bills to be paid– when you heard a muffled clang toward the bedroom’s direction. 

Probably inside his suitcase, you thought, since the bedroom remained dark. You put the sorted mail on the mantelpiece and discarded the rest with a flick of your wand, then quickly made your way to the source of the noise. 

The suitcase sat open on the bed. As you approached, you caught sight of a picture of Newt and you by the bedside table, illuminated by the faint glow of streetlight. You drew the drapes and whispered Lumos, electricity bills be damned. Your face broke into a big smile as you picked up the picture. Newt kept many photographs around the flat: of you, of the two of you together, portraits and sketches of his and your beloved creatures. Your favorite of the two of you had ended by his side of the bed. Your finger traced his face as he softly gazed up at you. Even in a photograph, you could still see his freckles, dotting like stars. 

“Merlin’s beard!” The shout from inside the suitcase startled you. Putting the picture down, you hurriedly took the steps descending down to the wonderland that is Newt’s suitcase.

“Newt! Is everything alright?” You found him hunched over by his desk, cradling his arm close to his person, his great blue coat laid abandoned nearby. 

“Y/N! You’re back!” Newt’s bright, sunny smile immediately abated your worries. You couldn’t help but grin back at him. But that didn’t last long. 

“Stars! What happened?!” You gasped– there, where his skin was visible, were teeth marks in shades of reds. Newt’s white shirt was soaked with sweat. You started to examine him profusely. Those looked like–

“Murtlap’s bites?” You ran your fingers gingerly over a mark by Newt’s collarbone. His shirt was unbuttoned down the first three, leaving his chest half exposed. You felt Newt’s breath hitched as your fingers brushed against the angry red of his skin. 

“Yes. I have been… observing different reactions one might get when bitten by a murtlap. So far, it has been quite harmless. The only thing was that… flmns…”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that?” You looked up at him as he averted his gaze, cheeks pink. You didn’t realize your face was so close to him. You could see his constellations of freckles so clearly from here. 

“The only serious reaction was… flame out of the anus.” He mumbled the last bit. Your lips thinned as you tried to hide a fond smile at your magizoologist. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was published right before you moved in together. Only Newt Scamander would work on a revision so soon after the book’s premier. His compassion and dedication would never cease to amaze you. He did it not for recognition nor fame, but purely out of his compassion and dedication to the magical creatures.

“Let’s treat these bites, then you can go and update your manuscript, yes?” You brushed the sweaty hair out of his face and pressed a kiss on his freckles, his cheeks warm under your lips. You started to pull away, only to find his lips on yours. You leaned into the kiss as one of Newt’s hands caressed your face, the other a comforting warmth at your waist. 

You reluctantly pulled apart and rested your forehead against his. “Exactly how much flame out of the anus are we talking about?” You said cheekily.

Newt’s face is a whole other shade of red that you had never seen before. “I would say it depends on the diet one consumes.”

Your laughter rang through the space. If this was how it’s like with Newt, you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him. But that would be for another day. While the future was exciting and full of possibilities, you were content and happy at this moment in time, surrounded by the fantastic beasts and the love of your life. 

[abeinginsand]

Thinking about this AU again Lark and Sparrow are going to a private school here with a dorm that they share. They usually go home on the weekends as the Oak Garcia home is only a short bus ride away. Anyways, wanted to go into the 'Into the Spiderverse' part of the story below.

Firstly, wanted to mention these conversations with Rae about an AU of this AU where Terry Jr. is the person who couldn't be saved. They are here and here with the second link being Rae's art and convo of their Spider Normal and my Spider Sparrow meeting! :] In the dorm room, the twins took apart the bunk bed and put their beds together. They have a ton of posters, fairies lights, and other decorations. One window and two lava lamps. The lamps were from Glenn for a birthday. Other than Lark, only their parents and Nick know about the secret. Nick found out when Sparrow kept missing their new Glenn close trio jam sessions.

Nick got curious and happen to see Sparrow go into an alley and come back as spidey wolf. In a mix of outrage and confusion, he is about to go confront his friend. Lark stops him and calms him down. I think nick secretly blames the hero for not stopping the villian that killed his dad. He just never talked about that with his mom or anyone else though.

Feels wrong that Sparrow is that same hero, even more so because he now knows why Sparrow couldn't save Glenn. The friend group was altogether helping nick pack up his dorm for the summer that day. He was always very last minute with packing (the anxiety, the adhd, the teen urge to not do what you should do...etc.) Still was excited that Glenn was going to pick them all up with the tour bus and bring them to the Oak Garcia for a big summer party with all their families. There was a villian attack, cars piling up, his dad never made it to them.

The whole realization is a lot, too much actually. Lark calms him down at first but he's clearly still dealing with it all for awhile. Sparrow and Nick do eventually get closer again though. This is where the spider verse comes in. One night, the twins were having trouble sleeping so they were talking quietly into the night to distract themselves. Lark, surprisingly, falls asleep first and Sparrow watches him sleep for a little while adding more doodles to their sketchbook. They've been working on this sketch of Uncle Glenn and as he used to say "and my three favorite punks". The 'punks' being Nick, Sparrow, and Lark of course. The green and blue lava lamp on the table nearby is the only light, the curtains closed on the lone window. Until suddenly, specks of reds, oranges, and grungy purple scatter across the paper. Sparrow looks up at the ceiling and there's a swirling vortex glitching in and out above them. Top hat (the radioactive spider) is scampering wildly around its enclosure. Said container starts floating up, Sparrow's gasping and reaching out and starting to float too. Something grabs the teens legs right as their arms passed through the portal, those limbs feeling like they've been torn apart and put back together multiple times....and its hurt, its hurt, it hurts-- Lark is the one grabbing their legs though, always a light sleeper, and at least there's some comfort in hearing a defiant, "I'm going with you. Nothing's going to separate us! Ever," before the twins, the spider, and the spiderwolf suit get dragged completely into another realm.

Nick comes into their messy dorm room to find them missing. Holds up the sketch book page. Its dad and his three punks. Maybe its colored in wetness now too but whether thats from knowing his friend drew this or being scared about the twins disappearing is unclear. Either way, he also notices a little drawing of stick figures floating into a portal.

Nick ends up working on a way to get them back with grant, tj, and Morgan who seem to believe him about the "they didn't run away, I think they got abducted by aliens!" It's absurd sounding, yet Morgan hears so much of Glenn in that idea and it's part of why she's so willing to go with it. Other part being that she loves her kid more than the world itself. She is also the one to convince Mercedes and Henry that there's still hope too... --- The twins end up in an alternate universe and they experience the glitch symptoms since they don't belong there. Except, they manage to make a device that can slow the glitching down with tech they stole. It only works on one person at a time though and needs charging. They both insist the other sibling should be the one to wear the device, arguing pretty intensely--dare I say even attracting public attention when they are rough-housing in an alley. A lady stops them both...this lady being their mom but also clearly not their mom somehow. She looks older than the twins remember and was that a little toddler in her arms? They are in a universe that's closer to the canon world (sorta) +Omega dads as villains +the s1 dads have a heroes guild (daddies hq) +the s1 kids are adults (late 20s?) (some of them have sided with the villains, some with their families) +Birdie exists but earlier than in canon, Lark doesn't associate with the family anymore/doesn't know much about her, Sparrow is around but has become pretty disenchanted about the hero life (like Peter B Parker except he still has a good relationship with Becca). Lark joined the dark side. TJ also joined Lark by the way due to Terry Sr Vampire being a key component in this world too. +Glenn did die in this au, but like in canon he came back. He may have come back wrong though. He was a villain for a little bit, thanks to Willy shenanigans. Morgan is also gone, so Nick was taken in by Mercedes and Henry for a few years. Things are still kinda bumpy between Glenn and Nick though the love has always and continues to be there. In one of the bonus talks about s1, Anthony mentions how Bill would have helped the dads with Glenn at the court house. Willy would have caught him though. ANYWAYS, I have mixed feelings about Bill as a person but I liked that point a lot. That he cared enough to try. In this AU, Bill helps his son escape being under evil influence successfully. Probably at the cost of his life because Willy is very unforgiving (and petty). +Also I think Hero, Taylor, and Lincoln are little kids here (but Normal and Scary haven't been born yet). Nick is not an absentee dad here since there's no FBI equivalent situation. Not sure Jodie exists in this au, but always open to suggestions.

Lots of stuff going on and the younger twins don't find all this out all at once either. For now, they spend much of their first week stuck there sneaking that special device onto each other daily.

Mercedes and Henry are perplexed but also 'wow isn't just so nice to have their beautiful twins around again'? They missed all the noise and adult Sparrow barely talks to them anymore. Henry only sees adult Lark on the battlefield, hurts more each time. Never giving up on trying to convince him to come home though or at least always says that the door is always open if he or Sparrow need a place to rest etc.

Sparrow Spiderman AU

Radioactive wolf spider bites teen Sparrow who was definitely playing with said spider beforehand. Spiders and wolves are just so friend-shaped after all, so of course a wolf spider would be as well! Feel like Sparrow named the spider Top Hat (not sure why other than silliness) and the spider sticks around like Nick jr on Glenn's shoulder

Powers listed below:

Barely noticeable fangs normally but all teeth turn razor sharp temporarily for combat etc cold resistance/minor ice and plant magic? cannot make webs but can high jump half mask, floral and wolf theme (yes their mask has wolf ears...and probably fluffy leg warmers/arm warmers) Who is the person Sparrow couldn't save? I was thinking about Lark but that lead to a villain route. Maybe that is a villain the twins face off against at some point--would be an older Sparrow. But for the main au, maybe Glenn? Close-Freeman and Oak Garcia families are really close here! Glenn's like a fun and mischievous uncle to the twins. Helping teach them how to drive recently too. Lark, Sparrow, Nick, Grant, and Terry are still friends. Nick's been a friend to the twins since childhood, they met Grant in middle school, while Terry is a new transfer student. All of the teens are in the school's adventurer's guild. Its a dnd club that Henry founded when he was in school. Sparrow took over the mantle and brought the club back into existence. Lark brought the 'literally sneaking out and adventuring like when we were kids but more intense' part into things. They lead the club together but Lark doesn't want to be held responsible for dealing with faculty etc so he's a normal club member on paper. I think it could be fun if Lark swaps places with Sparrow sometimes as the spiderhero, did he get bitten too? Possibly and/or maybe the two have a bunch of gadgets for him to use. Added shenanigans...Lark and Sparrow can communicate telepathically sometimes (after both were bitten). At some point Lark does make his own costume, but the two still have fun switching around as usual. Both Nick and Glenn still dislike spider here and while Sparrow was plenty mischievous regarding that info as a kid (and Nick also brought up snakes in revenge), they are pretty...worried about either of them finding out about Sparrow being part spider now.

[rubyinasnuggie]

Random Headcanons No One Asked For:

-Both Ruby and Weiss are left handed

--Yang was 100% prepared to tease them about it when Blake very pointedly uses her left hand to write something

--Blake is ambidextrous

--which makes Yang the only right-handed one on the team

--until the fall of beacon oops

-Ren is fully color blind

--once baby Nora figured that out, she made it her mission to explain to him what colors are based on other sensations (sue me I love this trope)

--she describes pink as the quiet comfort they share in each other's presence

--Ren finally sees color for the first time when his semblance upgrades, and he can finally see the pink petals with Nora

-Blake likes to climb on things and find random nooks and crannies to read

--it turns into a game of reverse hide-and-seek when someone needs her: depending on how urgent it is the entire squad will drop everything and look for her

-team STRQ won the Vytal tournament their first year, specifically Summer was the champion

--Yang was more upset about the disqualification than she'd ever admit, because she secretly imagined Summer was out there somewhere watching the tournament, proud of her babies

-Tai pulled himself out of his depression by gardening: having a routine helped him, so he encouraged baby Ruby and Yang to get similar gentle hobbies

-Ruby raises chickens at home

--she very lovingly feeds them corn and calls them her ladies

--Yang affectionately calls them creatures and cluckers and other such rude things to get a rise out of Ruby

-Ruby deeply wants a cow

--this is her one and only retirement dream

--although honestly she can never imagine herself living past her 20s

-Yang struggled with picking a hobby, she gets bored easily and hates the expected

--its only post-Beacon that she understands the benefits of a routine

--thats why she ends up with a ton of chores, just some structure to help her through the day

-Ruby will drink any type of milk, but Strawberry milk is her favorite

-Sun is allergic to bananas but he doesn't know

--he thinks bananas are supposed to be spicy

-Weiss loves sour apple

-Pyrrha loves chocolate almonds

-Yang thinks fish are creepy, she just generally doesn't love the ocean

--she thinks Neptune is a little clown though

-Oscar gets dressed by putting on his left sock, left boot, then his right sock and right boot

--RNJR made it their mission to interrupt him during this just to see him walk around with one boot on

-Ruby likes to bake, it's one of the few solid memories she has of her mom

--one night Weiss was feeling homesick and Ruby taught her how to make mug cakes

--"its probably not that good compared to your cake butler, but it's pretty simple, and I like them!"

--Weiss secretly makes them at least once a week, even back home in Atlas

-Weiss has taken flight lessons, at one point Ironwood really pushed for her to become a pilot in the military

-Blake has a field journal of the different types of Grimm she's encountered

--team RWBY & JNPR have spent several nights sitting in a circle talking and adding to the journal

--while traveling across Anima, Ruby sketched and took notes on all the Grimm she saw, just in case she ever found Blake again

-Weiss collects rocks

--no, not crystals. actual rocks

--shes rarely spent time in the real outside, but whenever she has, she picks up little rocks and puts them in her pocket before anyone can see

-Jaune never actually stopped writing left and right on the bottom of his shoes actually

-Weiss had never been allowed to paint her nails as a kid, she'd always get weekly French manicures instead

--by the second semester at Beacon, Ruby, Weiss, Nora, and Ren would have weekly manicure nights where they'd paint each other's nails

--there were several times they'd rope the rest of the teams into it, especially during the Vytal tournament where they'd write team names on their nails

--during the singles round they'd write Yang on one hand and Pyrha on the other

--"we couldn't make it fit without cutting one of the R's!"

-Pyrrha and Weiss became each other's default plus one's for fancy events, to the point people began to speculate that the two were dating

--Jaune was somehow jealous of them both and it was very confusing to him since he had poor self awareness

-Yang cuts Ruby's hair, but after she lost her arm she lost the fine motor skills to do a good job, so Blake started to do it

-Blake is always there to help Yang with her phantom pains and residual limb pain

--she helps massage Yang's arm while leaning close and purring

--Yang cried the first time Blake did this because she's not used to being taken care of

-Nora never gets sick and is the designated nurse when a bug goes around the teams

--the electricity incident was the first time Nora has ever been bed-ridden

-Weiss took ballet as a child

-Jaune is actually pretty good at the guitar

-Pyrrha is not musically inclined at all its a miracle she managed to do the iconic JNPR shine dance

--jk but actually she's a decent dancer when she has the steps choreographed for her but she has no natural rhythm

-in the last few months before Pyrrha's death, she and Jaune would waltz on top of the roof together

--there were several almost kisses

--maybe a few successful kisses who knows

-there are occasions (obv extremely rare) when Ren actually takes the bulk of the energy from Nora

--this leads to thrilling game nights where Ren makes multiple 40pt remnant-equiv-of-scrabble plays while Nora naps

-Oscar is the only person who can beat Ren in scrabble, although it's very closely matched

-Oscar is amazing at chess and will play it against himself like a little square

-Yang and Ruby are experts at the tabletop war game they play in the library

--9 times out of 10, the winner is one of them

-Oscar is the only one who also knew about Compost King, which was very exciting for Jaune

--Compost King is a common game night activity while they were in Haven because its so hard to say no to Oscar

-Yang is a straight-A student and has always been

-Blake never had any formal education and she finds a lot of the classes incredibly dull or ineffective at teaching the material

--she's always the one convincing Yang to skip a class and lie in the sun-warmed grass with her

--she still gets Bs easily

-Oscar is a very fast reader and will devour any book he's given

--his aunt would frequently bring home books from town just to keep him entertained

-Ruby has suffered from migraines and nightmares her entire life, post-Beacon they only got worse

-Weiss shops at local dust stores whenever she can, even though she could get shipments for free

--however she does have Ron Swanson's "I know more than you" energy when she's shopping

-Blake and Ren will sometimes take naps together

--not cuddling, just occupying the same general space

--wake them up at your own risk

-if Ruby isn't engaged with something, she can start to scatter and dissolve into rose petals

--its a very slow process and someone has always snapped her out of it before she's fully vanished, but Yang is worried about what would happen if no one caught her in time

-Ren is afraid of horses

-Blake hates being cold

-Yang naturally radiates heat cause semblance duh

-Weiss glued the tiniest gravity crystals to the underside of Ruby's bed to ensure it never falls

-JNPR likes to push their beds all together so they can sleep in one big pile

-Nora can only sleep if she's holding someone's hand

Hope u guys enjoyed! These are in no particular order, sorry that I kinda jumped around a lot 😅

Feel free to reblog and add your own ideas and headcanons! ❤

[singmeyoursimpsong]

An Eddie-centric Stranger Things headcanon, you say? In five minutes? Gladly! 

Can't stop thinking about the fruity four after everything. They're "ok", everything is "ok" now, Vecna long gone and the Upside Down long closed ... except they're not. No one is really ok. 

They each cope in their own way: Nancy sleeps with a pistol under her pillow and pushes herself academically at NYU to the point of passing out, Robin drinks an ungodly amount of caffeine to calm the nerves (she has ADHD) to just get through the day and joins a big band to scream on the trumpet, Steve becomes a gym rat, swimming lap after lap, jabbing at the punching bag hour after hour to never feel caught off guard again. Eddie, though? 

He starts drawing his nightmares. 

Despite being pencil and ballpoint pen sketches, they're good. Really, really good. Graphic detail that is a little too real, too gnarly to just be "make-believe". But he can't stop. The moment he's ripped awake by the night terrors, his fingers are dancing across his old school notebooks with whatever he has lying around. The drawings are plastered everywhere around his room. Wayne doesn't say anything, just is glad that Eddie is back. Can't say anything to anyone because the Feds made him swear. He just hopes that drawing is enough for Eddie to keep on going. He sees the way Eddie pushes his food around the plate, sees the way he postpones Hellfire week after week. He's not even smoking cigarettes anymore, for crying out loud. But drawing. Drawing is what he does now. (He's talked to Joyce: luckily what Eddie has is not some unfortunate connection to the UD the way Will's was. Eddie is totally conscious while drawing - it is what it is: a coping mechanism).

Dustin is the first aside from Wayne to see, drops by the trailer one day to pick up some character sheets for a new campaign he's writing up. Eddie lets him into the living room but tells him to stay put (I'll be right back) before ducking into his room, and Dustin waits a few minutes, listening to Eddie shuffle around what seem like endless papers in his room before Dustin's curiosity gets the best of him and he's peeking his head in... 

"Dude," he gasps and Eddie, kneeling, whips around from the piles of loose drawings. 

"It's not what it seems, I swear Henderson..." he tries. "They're right around here, I know I saw a few copies earlier -" and is desperately trying to shove the loose sheets out of sight when -

"No, Eddie, wait!" Eddie stops his shuffling. "These are..." Dustin is fully in his room now, looking up and around, reaching for the right words - "so... freaking... cool, dude," breaking out into a wide smile.

It's evidently not what Eddie was expecting. His hand goes up to rub the back of his neck and his shoulders relax a fraction of an inch.

"You really think so, Henderson?"

Dustin laughs then, one of those maniacal ones that only come out when he doesn't believe what he's looking at. 

"THINK so? Eddie! These are BITCHIN." And Dustin is wiggling with excitement, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the details of the drawings on the walls. Dustin recognizes the sketches of monsters from their shared nightmares, but then Eddie tentatively shows him totally new ones, ones straight from his mind. Dustin loves them. He springs the incredible idea of using one for a DnD one-shot which brightens up Eddie's face, and they start talking together about logistics and hit points when in barges Steve - 

"Dustin! What did we say about being ready-" notices Eddie, "-hey Eddie-" back to Dustin, "- you said three and it's three forty holy shit-" and Steve is staring up and around the room, mouth agape, and Dustin is giggling and Steve is just now realizing exactly what he walked into. 

"Eddie drew these! Aren't they incredible??" 

And they are, they really are. Steve finally closes his mouth and meets Eddie's wide eyes. Eddie looks, scared? No, not quite. Shy might be a better word for the way Eddie looks, hands nervously fumbling in front of him, eyes jumping between his drawings and Steve's reaction, his mind laid out openly, visibly, vulnerably, for the two to take in. Right as Steve is about to respond, a particular sketch catches his eye just behind Eddie. He brushes past the guy and Steve goes up to the near picture-like drawing of a demodog on the wall near Eddie's bed, traces its gruesome detail with a finger (like he can't believe it's paper)...

"Yeah, they're incredible." Steve's a bit breathless. Then, meeting Eddie's fidgety gaze: 

"You're incredible, Eddie."