#me as i add more and more ocs that are either brand new or i haven't rp'd in a while

[universestreasures]

Mokuba's Future Possibilities

If there is one word I can use to describe Mokuba it would be potential. The kid in both anime and manga storylines is so full of it that the possibilities for what his future will be are pretty much endless. That being said, I'm going to go into some general concepts for that future, with concepts for the anime storyline, the manga storyline, or ones that work for both. These are ideas that either can be solo ones or can be combined together depending on plotting.

I also want to take a second to thank some of the folks who participated in discussions or plotting sessions in relation to some of these possibilities. Talking with mutuals is where a lot of the best ideas come out, so I have to send out thanks to everyone for doing that with me! So thank you @shachou @ofhardknoxxx @relevc @cyberends @apricotheart and anyone else I might have forgotten (Because my memory is horrible, forgive me.)! I appreciate all of you for discussing some of these with me! <3

Alright, let's get started!

The Capsule King (Manga mainly but could be for the Anime)

Mokuba has always been known as a champion of Capsule Monsters Chess. So, naturally, and similar to his bro, he'd strive to be at the very top of the game, to be the 'King of the Capsule Monsters' (also known as the Capsule King). This is one of the goals that Mokuba sets for himself during his high school, and he works very hard on his skills constantly. He has resorted to cheating in the past (especially in the manga verse). It's something he was not proud of and wants to rectify. It's why he starts at the local competition level, building to a regional, national, and then worldwide level. I imagine he meets many friends and rivals during his climb to the top (things I'd love to explore btw. Capsule Monsters OCs anyone?). Eventually he wins the world championship tournament (that I imagine KC-sponsored) and gains the title of Capsule King that he defends fiercely for years to come.

Game Tech Developer (Anime / Manga)

Considering his own gaming love and having his brother as a role model / inspiration, it's only natural Mokuba would want to try a hand at his own projects. The three ideas I currently have for projects he'd work on would have to do with something with Capsule Monsters Chess, a VR game similar to the Legendary Hero’s one from that arc, and a sorta triple hybrid game combining elements from Capsule Monsters Chess, Duel Monsters, and Buddyfight (his top 3 favs). These would be ideas he cooks up or makes prototypes or blueprints for all on his own without any help from anyone.

It would be a testament of Mokuba's growth in his own skills, and that he truly is capable of doing something on his own, proving assumptions or insults people (such as his stepfather) have made about him over the years were wrong. And it could become his full time role at Kaiba Corp depending on how things go as well.

Head Of Kaibaland (Anime / Manga)

Kaibaland is just as much Mokuba's dream as it is Seto’s, and he's had a big hand in it since its creation. Not only in terms of proposing ideas but also creating ride and merch concepts, testing rides, and reviewing guest satisfaction and feedback surveys. So it’s only fitting he’d move up as the leading figure for Kaiba Land when he’s old enough and ready. He takes the position very seriously, more so than anything he’s ever done. This is his and Seto’s dream. He can’t mess it up.

Such a change in role might require either frequent business trips overseas or relocation altogether, depending on things (anime or manga storyline, other plotting details, etc.). Whatever the case may be, I imagine in his role he’d be a very hands on figure. He’d want to oversee every aspect, from the big picture to the finest details. His creativity I can see leading the brand to new places and directions, perhaps even expanding into other related hospitality or destination realms such as cruising. He’d also add more variety of content into the parks with collaborations from other places and IP, such as perhaps collabing with Suzuha on a Buddyfight related attraction.

Mokuba would also definitely still collaborate with his bro or seek his opinion on things. This is still their dream, after all. Being in charge wouldn’t change that for him I think. Besides, if there if one thing Mokuba loves, it’s working with his bro on something they both care about.

Duel Academia Inspector (Anime)

Considering Duel Academia is one of his brother's most important post-anime verse developments, it's only fitting that Mokuba would have a part to play. While he would be too old to attend as a student or too busy / not qualified to be a faculty member, I like to imagine he plays the role of an inspector, coming to the school on occasion to see how things are running and report back to his bro.

He certainly has his own opinions about certain things he sees (like the school having no prom is an outrage) and he’ll make them known to the staff and the students. He’ll even pitch in to incorporate changes if needed. Like the Slifer Red Dorm? He’d so want that to be upgraded.

During these visits Mokuba will also be on the lookout for potential candidates both for KC but also to sponsor for the pro league. He has a good eye for talent so he def takes the chance to try and scout when he can.

Creator of Riding Duels As A Concept (Anime)

It was never stated who was the specific creative mind behind Riding Duels creation. We only know it was Kaiba Corp’s doing. The idea of ‘card games on motorcycles’ seems like something to me a creative genius like Mokuba would come up, combining two types of popular competitive sports (dueling and racing) into one experience.

Do I think it was realized in his lifetime? Probably not since I bet by 5D’s Mokuba is either retired or has passed on. But I do think it’s an idea that he has made and possibly would share with his bro that probably wasn’t fit for the current market but was revisited down the line.

So while he probably didn’t design the mechanics or the way the tech works, I do think the core idea was his that was later expanded upon. Like the image of his big bro riding a motorcycle with Blue-Eyes flying above is something he’d totally imagine and think: “Huh. I could be onto something.”

Family Man / Best Uncle Ever (Anime / Manga)

Now, while I currently do not have any romantic ships for my Mokuba (something I am open to discussing, as I am with romantic ships in general), I am 1000% convinced he will one day find a partner and get married, much more likely than his brother. Whether he would have kids (or adopt a kid) is something I don't know yet (but I say it's more likely than not tbh), but regardless, he'd be the best uncle to both Seto's kids (if he ever had any) or any of his friend's kids. One for sure example is with his friend Gao's two sons: Yuga and Haru. He spoils those kids rotten and does all he can to be there for him. Same would go for any other kids of his friends or brother. He's so family-oriented that this makes natural sense for him.

So if you all got any next gen YGO babies (like the lovely @aorigashi, who Mokuba adores already just from our plotting sessions ), throw them at Mokuba cause this man was built to be an uncle, okay.

LET HIM LOVE YOUR BABIES!!!

Bonus: CEO of Kaiba Corp (Manga mainly but could be for anime)

This is a future possibility I’ll tell you all Mokuba doesn’t want (he was not happy I decided to put this on this post I'm just saying). He wouldn’t ever want to take his brother’s position. He knows how much he’s built his life around it and how important it is to him. The only way he’d ever take it is if he had no choice…which would only be one thing really: If Seto died.

If his brother died before his time, such as because of his actions in DSOD for example, he’d of course take the role in his brother’s stead. And by that I mean he’d make it his whole life. He’d do all he could to be a stand-in for his brother. He would start to talk like him, dress like him, and adopt any of his habits. He would, in this essence, cease being himself, which is a future that I’d argue would be the worst for him out of any possibility. After all, what’s the point of being ‘Mokuba’ without Seto around.

This concept is the basis for an au idea I have, actually, and I’d be down to explore it if anyone’s down despite the angst fest it be.

[neilwroteathing]

I don't know what to title this, but here you'll read of my Murder Drones OC

It's time! I wanted to make a post about my Murder Drones OC since me and a couple of frens have been roleplaying with them lately, so to give more to this blog and add characters that maybe people enjoy and ask, I present to you in a lengthy post:

Boone Doser

Lots of thank u's, pat pats and sm more to my lovely friend over on instagram @d3athup0n for gifting me this for my birthday, as a bust reference of the big man himself. In this post you'll get to know more about him and maybe a note here or there about the process of developing him.

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Unit BD2, otherwise known by his co-workers as 'Boone Doser' is an Industrial type of Worker Drone within the world of Murder Drones.

Industrial Drones (IDs) are different from Worker Drones (WDs) for the way that they're heavily altered by a company and given specific programming to work as an automated heavy machine and perform more arduous tasks individually. Drones like these were a safe way for humans to have machinery identical to those such as Bobcats, Forklifts, TLBs and like Boone Doser's name implies, Bulldozers.

Yes I'm proud of that pun name

Boone was designed to function in the way of serving in heavy facilities that would require digging, moving rubble or in his case, aid in digging operations.

One of the few models of his generation, Boone was the 2nd model of the Bulldozer line, which was only 5 models total made before the next generation of Industrial Drones was developed. Boone is part of the 3rd generation of IDs and was sent to work in the mining facility located in Copper 9.

Equipped with a heavy duty casing, flexible joints with more rigid segments on his extremities and almost armor-like plating, Boone is built to be heavy and put up high torque. The blades on his back can be removed and attached to his arms, then to be used for pushing and digging by splitting in two parts and connecting once together on his arms.

Another feature not visible is that he does not possess the typical legs a WD would, but instead have his entire feet and part of the ankle be replaced by two sturdy wheels with high grip to traverse smoothly over rocky terrain and step across mud piles without getting stuck.

With all this torque and power, he is a hard machine to break apart without special equipment, blades themselves able to withstand plenty of damage (like a shield).

He wears work approved clothing, such as a safety mining vest, safety goggles and a hardhat (with his name scribbled on the left side)

ALSO HIS HAIR IS MADE OF WIRES AND AH I LOVE HOW IT LOOKS.

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Lots of blah blah about his design and origin, and yes I invented a whole new brand of Drones just for this, bite me.

Now to the fun part!

His lore!

Grengcore was the name of the company owner of the mining facility where Boone worked, which was a company entirely set within Copper 9.

Boone was created in 3040 and sent to one of the mining resource plant, in which he'd work with humans and drones until Copper 9's explosion, which caused the death of the humans and leaving all drones to continue work on their own (which was hard, since none was taught how to send a spaceship with the mined material anywhere)

Either way, he'd develop relationships with almost all workers and mostly positive ones too, him being quite upstanding and serviceable as can be, optimistic, even eventually, developing a link for one of the workers within, being a girl that he'd work alongside with daily, even together during breaks.

This link would continue to flourish into a code full of love, where he and this worker would decide to create their own starter neural network, AKA a child of their own, a compromise solidified after a wedding within the facility, where two rings of quartz were worn to seal the promise and become husband and wife.

After the big day, Boone would be given his name by the workers, who all called him B-2, and his name would be scribbled onto his helmet as a fun gift from his wife.

Time passed, and while working during break hours, a sudden cave-in happened, that crushed the entrance in due to something causing too much movement nearby. The workers instructed Boone to

'Just continue digging'

He'd continue as instructed, expecting the others to soon dig out the entrance as he discovered the cave in to be far more risky to clean out from inside with the chance of a complete breakdown of the tunnel being dug if attempted from the inside.

He'd just keep digging.

The assurance calls from the intercom ceased, and his order remained unchanged

The visits from his wife through the speaker on the single camera mounted in the room prior to the tunnel stopped coming

He wouldn't hear the gibberish of his child with the sweet voice of his wife

His code began to deteriorate with one order starting to freeze onto his programming

1095 days went by as he continued to work non-stop

He had no idea what happened as the days went by

He had no knowledge of where anyone was

He had no other things he knew besides to dig

to replace damaged blades

eat from a huge boxed supply of batteries

run out of wires to light up the tunnel

run out of working explosives

his body wearing away

and finally, becoming a hollow husk of what once was a worker with pride, with friends, with a loving partner and a child he wanted to provide proper parenting to.

If only he knew the carnage that had gone down back in his home, but alas, all he knew now was few things:

Just keep digging, to throw ore to the left, dirt and stone to the right, replace damaged equipment.

Boone Doser became the sole survivor of the mining facility, but not without severe impact to his own self. Only one thing would be able to maybe help him return to reality, and it came in the form of a faulty Disassembly Drone, who took pity on his miserable state, and offered him to escape.

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Okay that was way more than I expected to write-

BUT YEAH THAT'S BOONE DOSER

If you managed to reach this part like... I'm proud of u, and if you want, you can ask Boone questions, see if his poor CPU can answer them.

[51-queer-frogs]

Hi! Hello! Tell me about your OCs! Especially the cool multi-eyed fluffy creature with six eyes! I love multi eyed critters!

Oh boy

okay so! Spirit is an oc I created a longg time ago, who's story had changed a lot over the years. We're gonna do a history

wayyy back in about 2018 I did a shitty re-color of a drawing of wolf link. while both the original shitty re color is gone, I have re-found the original by Teddie4Ever01 on deviant art. that's where the earring comes from, and it's one of the few aspects that has stuck around. to quote myself from six years ago "this is my oc its a link wolf possed by a dragon ( it can grow wings ). " I was young and the dragon bit was gone in about two weeks, but it will come back later.

SO

I am guessing, at least a little bit here, because six years ago but the original lore was as follows; There were 5 different colored magic space stones all of which had slightly different powers. Spirit had the purple one (of course) and I'm not sure what it's power was. ANother character, Shadow, (below spirit ref) had the blue and it made blue fire. I'm sure there was more, but I don't remember. at the time, Spirit looked something like this

which, y'know, it a good design if it wasn't stolen. note that I never drew the wings because I was lazy and also everything I drew at that point was traced in some way or another. (aka why I'm not showing the original drawings.)

now the next design stayed around for a bit, but I don't really have any writing on lore from that time. anyways the sheet I used to make it was by sm0shy on fur affinity, and it looked like this

Now finally we've settled on a design ! this was the sheet I used for almost every commission I made, including my old icon. from here on out we'll just be talking about lore. At this point, while I hadn't completely abandoned the magic elemental space rocks, I did add some new characters to the mix which is where we meet ember and moondrop, who use the same base

to quote me again "her name is Moondrop and she is actually social unlike shadow and spirit she loves everyone but Ember because of emotional trauma the flower can not leave her ear or she will be sick until it is returned" which, okay sure. BUT THEN for ember i said "a beta wolf who used to be in the same pack as moonshine . she was very strict especially towards moonshine at one point moonshine messed up a cache and and was very badly treated by Ember for ages." what! we're using fucking warrior dogs now! great! okay! yeah that didn't stick around. SO here's where written records are uh.. completely gone. yeah. no more of those. lore has died. I have old drawings, but I do remeber that shadow fell out of use, and Spirit, Ember and Moondrop became a trio the image below is the only one i have from before a real life time skip of like a year.

Alright, we have writing again, along with pictures! grabbed my old sketchbook for this.

The text (not in photo) reads Moondrop was born in 17839-F while her cause of death is unknown she currently lives because of the world tree, and is it's caretaker. She treats every leaf as it's own being, and the flower on her head is directly tied to the tree as well.

Ember was born in 1839-H her life was normal until her forest caught fire. The pack ran out, but one pup was trapped inside. she ran back in and threw the pup out, saving it's life. the last her pack saw of her was two days later, as she flew overhead on a brand new pair of flaming wings.

Okay. Alright. I remember (kind of) where we are now. At this point the lore went as follows. Moondrop and Ember were opposites with an unclear relationship (see I called it friends then but they were either siblings or dating, don't remember) Ember was a (possibly the) god of fire, And Moondrop was the god of nature. Spirit, on the other hand, (i think) was the god of death. The three of them were re-incarnated to find each other again and again, no matter the timeline, which is what those numerical codes are about. The rocks are completely gone at this point, good riddance. from here the three stagnate. For a good couple of years. They go on adventures. whatever. Exempt! and here come yet another side tangent!

GENDER CRISIS

So for years at this point I'd gone by spirit online. I was also old enough to know what non binary was, and was doing as people do and freaking out. This is the funny part, because since the start, spirit was she/her but all genderless. Hm. Maybe that meant something. So i'd done what any one would do when already having another name and wanting to transition, and I'd asked folks at school to call me spirit. Hey who wants to guess what my name is now. Yeah. yep. named myself after my furry oc. felt silly i guess. so. yeah where was i aganin. ohh.

life changed. and i forgot about spirit, moslty. Still doodled them but didn't post because devaint art had died. whatever. I get an in class assingment to draw a monster. this is what i drew.

side note; not transcriing that, no way in hell.

but nontheless the idea is here, which is where we FINALLY get to modern lore. (aka one more year later)

As of now Spirit is a time travelling archivist, stealing books and relics just before they would get lost, creating a sort of library/museum of babble. The multiple eyes thing is taken directly from Anasii, the spider god of stories. with this, they also are a trickters, specalizing in illusions, which they often used for nonsensical bullshit.. moondrop and ember are both also time travelers, but not as fleshed out. also also the current ref sucks and i'll make a new better one when i have time. That being said ive been here for two hours and i'll shut up now.

[good-beans]

(Milgram self-insert oc masterpost hehe)

Name: For the sake of posting online I’ll call her Rose!

Color: #E7355B [the pink in the art]

Age: I guess she’d be 20 given when Milgram started huh.

Status: Milgram Staff, Machine Technician

Symbols/imagery: ballet/musical theater, science experiments

Song genre: very similar to Mahiru's, something upbeat and extra pop-y

Tentatively she's number 011? She's not really prisoner but she's also not free to come and go, so I'm not actually sure if she'd get a number (Edit: I've decided she'll actually be 012. Staff is given the 01X range, and even though Es doesn't actively have a number they'd be staff member 011, making her 012.)

Story: Since the project is supposed to be realistic/present day, the mv machine would be brand new and unpredictable tech, so they’d want someone keeping up on maintenance and making sure the brain-invasive process won’t cause any harm to the prisoners. Rose was studying abroad in Japan working on some cool neuroscience tech (irl I know nothing about technology or brains but shh) and she stumbled upon some secret tech/plans from Milgram. Long story short, she was dragged into the experiment to make sure things ran smoothly.

Writer's Reasoning: She’s really fun for me to play around with, as she allows me to work with a character who has a tiny bit of pull over Es’ mindset in conversation but not the final decision (aka mirroring the voting system), and someone who is simultaneously trapped in the prison but has a reason to see all the canon content.* I really enjoy the character interactions and dynamics Milgram has set up so far, so it’s been super fun seeing how things change for better and worse when someone not quite aligned with either Milgram/the prisoners is thrown into the mix!

*As much as I love dramatic irony in fiction, it would drive me crazy if I knew every detail of of the vds/mvs but Rose didn't – and every single Milgram character is The Worst Communicator Ever so I couldn’t justify that she’d hear it secondhand from them...

Story roles:

She’s a bit conflicted -- she’s officially Milgram staff and knows she should remain neutral on the prisoners, since she won’t be allowed to interfere with the process/executions. At the same time, her job description is literally “make sure the machine doesn't hurt them and everyone's safe :)” and she's way too emotional to avoid getting hopelessly attached to everyone 😅

I really enjoy the theory that the machine extracts videos based off of priming, so one of Rose’s duties involves listening in on the interrogation and making sure there’s been enough material discussed/not too much time has passed overall (hence the ringing of the bell happening at different lengths for each vd -- That's her ringing it :3). She then watches the mvs along with Es to make sure there are no machine glitches, and know how to calibrate it better for next time.

(IEdit: I've since decided to add in official trial mvs, but before when I wasn't ready to tackle that:) She has to run some tests on the machine to make sure things are calibrated correctly, so she'd extract little things here and there. It gives me the opportunity to think up lyric snippets and recurring symbols for her without worrying about full encompassing music videos.

I'm not afraid to admit she can fall into Mary Sue territory every so often by being everyone's friend, because it's less about "aw everyone likes her" and more about "canon is too painful rn and I need a fix-it tool to take care of these guys and give them hugs and tell them someone forgives them and cares about them and unfortunately these characters wouldn't let anyone less than a friend do that." Rest assured she's definitely not perfect and will fuck everything up on occasion :3

Miscellaneous: Whenever I play around with normal au ideas she's still working on the machine (but in a public, more ethical setting), and she's Mahiru's roommate :) Her character isn't super focused on love, but if I had to pick a cover song it'd be Stickybug II. It's very much my vibe, the lyrics fit well enough (better than most songs, at least lol) and it's one of my favorites out of my limited knowledge of unchosen Deco songs! (Edit, I've actually given her non-deco cover songs hehe)

So yeah, I hope she's not too boring without a cool crime to decipher, but I wanted to share since I was really proud of her! It took a bit of tinkering to find a way to fit her into a perfect secret-third-thing role that runs very smoothly with all of canon, so I was very excited!

[freesidexjunkie]

ooh interesting ask meme! maybe "lesson" for sarissa :')

ohhhh this one is good, I've been stewing it in my brain all morning. link to oc ask list here

I think the first big life lesson she learns has to be connected to her leaving her birth clan. She was very young when her magic showed (7/8, had to double check my notebooks). Her clan already had three mages; she couldn't stay. She was luckier than Minaeve, in that she was sent to Clan Lavellan to train as first under their keeper. She was also lucky to be Dalish, so her magic wasn't a stain or a sin or a punishment; rather, it was a very big responsibility.

I'm stuck between "clan Lavellan was luckily close enough to her birth clan and in need of a First, so it worked out very fortunately" and "the arrangement was worked out at the Arlathven." I'm leaning heavily towards the Arlathven; it would be Sarissa's first wide exposure to Dalish culture as a whole, since it only happens every 10 years and she's still younger than that. Lavellan could have recently lost their own first. Or better, they could've just lost their keeper, and Istimaethoriel is brand spanking new in the role and needs a first, or maybe even a second at the beginning. So Sarissa is here as this terrified, shaking child, clutching at her mother's skirts, and what should be an exciting and illuminating first step into the wider world is actually her send off from everyone she's ever known.

It does end up working out well, though. Isti has no family of his own in my headcanon, and he's a very patient and kind teacher, so they form a very tight bond. She doesn't get to see her parents again; that bond just kind of...disintegrates. She was an only child when she left, but she has no idea if she has siblings out there somewhere. She doesn't even remember her parents' names, since she was so young and only ever called them mom/dad (in elvhen ofc but I don't think there's an elvhen word for dad off the top of my head?). I haven't decided exactly where they are or what's happened to them, but I think that's fitting; just like Sarissa knows she has parents but not where they are or why they never reached back out, I don't have a clear idea for why either.

So, long winded explanation, but I think the first lesson she learned was responsibility. She was chosen, by right of her magic, to bear one of, if not the, most important job any Dalish can undertake. Others always come before herself, because she lives to serve them, keep them safe and keep their stories alive. And that's why she falls into the role of Inquisitor so easily after the mark - she has, once again, been given what seems like a divine sign that she has to serve for others. Her life is not hers, and that might have chafed once in a while, but she has never changed that mindset. Is it healthy? No not at all, but who would I be if I didn't give my beloved OCs pieces of my own trauma? ❤️

Thank you so much for asking this and giving me an excuse to ramble about my fav girl 🥺 this really made me think more about her background in ways I haven't before, and I think it adds a really good layer to her story. Adding one of my latest picrews of her post-Inquisition bc I love her and I need to share her with the whole world.

[wispisstillverybored67]

Now, what do we have over here?

'Ello, 'ello, hola, ciao and bonjour! The name's Wisp! Er, it's also a number of names, but I haven't thought of a name hoard atm. Got rid of my old intro post since I don't think it did me very well... So here we are now.

I'm a rookie writer and very rarely a drawer. Bi, she/him, ADHD and (94% sure) autistic. I occasionally use the word "retarded", but never (or is it? I'm not sure) seriously against people, so if it bothers you, then be sure to filter the words out (plainly since I won't censor anything). My OCs are my children, hence the tag #wisp's children.

If you're going to mention my PFP as a kinda gotcha, say something more original.

I'm also something of a self-shipper, so if you intend on knowing more on my sect, refer to here.

I like...

Pokemon (spin-off lines included)

Yo-kai Watch

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Danganronpa

Super Mario Bros (all subseries' and spin-off lines minus maybe Mario and Donkey Kong included)

Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun

Kirby (anime included)

Cookie Run

Splatoon (manga included)

Friday Night Funkin' (mods included of course)

Pico's School

Fullmetal Alchemist

Kill la Kill

BNA: Brand New Animal

Fire Emblem

Genshin Impact

Kid Icarus Uprising

Persona

Puyo Puyo

Terror In Resonance

Puella Magi Madoka Magica

The Legend of Zelda

South Park

Ruby Gloom

...And more, which I'll add once I remember to do so. I'm also quite consumed by my own original content, and stuff like ghosts and youkai.

I'd say I'm quite anti-censorship. Why? Because, honestly, there is no such a thing as "good" kinds of the stuff. Who are you (general you) to judge how pure something is to be viewed by others, so they don't turn into heathens?

Angst and madness are my favorite traits in a character. I've actually dedicated an album in my photo app for characters either crying or with crazy faces. And WOW, is it ever beautiful...

[tiktaaliker]

woah! tiktaaliker comissions REAL!!! dm me if interested!! I can only take PayPal at the moment. EDIT: changed my mind about when to take payment lmao you'll pay once I'm done before you get the final full-size image

For all of these, I will be sending you several WIPS in different stages to make sure everything goes smoothly.

all options will include a simple/abstract background, and will have at MOST basic or minimal shading. complex/painted shading or backgrounds will add 5 USD to a headshot or 10 USD to a half/fullbody. scenes are an exception, and include the shading/background in the base price.

any additional characters in a piece will add an extra 50% to the base price. This also applies to commissioning multiple headshots at once- ie if you get 2 icons, it'll cost 22 USD instead of 30.

currently offering a BLASEBALL (RIV) DISCOUNT!!!! if you're commissioning a player from Blaseball, a Blaseball oc, or even just something with a vague Blaseball theme, I'll take 5$ off for an icon or bust commission, or 10$ off for a full body/scene/full page/ref sheet commission!

I also have some other options available under the cut!

SIMPLE LOOPING ANIMATION- pricing depends on complexity of design/animation, but will generally be around 15 USD on top of base price

KID PIX- for 10 USD, I'll draw your character in Kid Pix Deluxe 4. It will probably end up off base, and there won't be any sketches sent. It might be a headshot, it might be a fullbody.

PHOTO PAINTOVER- 20 USD. you can either provide a photo/meme or I can try to find a suitable one for you, and I'll draw what you want over it. I'll try to match the lighting/shading to the photo.

CUSTOM CHARACTER DESIGN- 35 USD. will work closely with you to make a brand new guy! I work best with high creative liberty, but I'd also be fine with a more specific request. I'll be sending TONS of process sketches + variants to make sure it's something you like. weird creatures and monsters are my specialty! If you order a custom character from me, I'll also offer a permanent 25% off ANY AND ALL commissions featuring the custom character!

[alexcutecolly]

❗️🪷🧛

Hi there! Thank you for the ask!

❗: discovering vore

Before I officially found out it was an actual thing, I 100% enjoyed (still do tbh hehehe) sections in animated movies&books where bigger creatures (giants, normal-sized humans if the cast had been shrunken, dragons, etc.) ate the main character(s) (or threatened them with it at least), who always managed to come out unscathed thankfully.

Then some years ago, a random quiz about vore popped up on quotev and I looked up what it was x3 and suddenly everything made much more sense lol. That's also basically how I joined Tumblr back in the day ^^

🪷: romantic vore (not sexual)

It's so so cute!! I love how vore adds brand new ways for a lover to express their affection and care towards the other 🥺❤️ such as the pred bringing their prey partner close to their belly, or the latter asking to be eaten so they can chill inside their beloved, getting even closer in the process and feeling so protected by them 🥺👉👈 aaaaaaaa it's so good!!

Also... Belly rubs. From either outside or inside, a tiny giving their lover massages is so adorable 🥺 it makes me melt when I read about it, aaaaaaa

One more thing: big smooches that accidentally lead to vore (with the prey being totally okay with it lol) make me blush ❤️ they're precious, I can't help it lol

🧛‍♂️: fictional characters as preds/preys (pirates, vampires, military men, cowboys etc.)

For already existing characters from games, shows, movies and book series, it's usually a hit or miss for me (mostly misses) 🤔 that said, it can work if I really really like the character (and by that they're granted the 'honorary vore badge', lol) or if I spot a lot of vore potential on them 👀

But if I come up with the characters myself, I have much more fun! Heck, I daily think about fantasy settings with pirates, cowboys, vampires, etc. actually in love with the idea of (safely) eating a smaller fellow, either to protect them from danger or to mess with them a bit.

You can also shape up an OC's personality simply based on how they would react upon stumbling across a borrower, or finding out one of their shrunken friends has mysteriously shrunk, and this is so innovatively creative to me ❤️ would they be tempted to eat them? Immediately take them to a safer place? Hold them close? Who knows 👀

[the-woild-is-y-erster]

ok since @watch-me-stand-watch-me-run was the one who asked this is mostly for you but like

gather round the campfire, children

cw/tw violence, abuse, child abuse, might add more after

this is gonna be really really long lol hold on to your butts, brochachos

ok so his given name was micheal sauveterre, his family wasnt nobility, but they werent poor either. he was born in 1883, and is sixteen when the strike starts.

no word of a lie, i cannot for the life of me decide if i want him in the livesies or 92sies-verse, so i kind of just go back and forth in my head lol

so he grew up in a pretty well off family, but his parents were severly abusive. they would beat him and his brother, telling them they deserved it for being ungrateful. his older brother spencer was the favorite child, always got the special privileges. they both did well in school, until micheal was 12. his brother went off to a fancy college in virginia, and he was left alone with his parents. his dad tried to make nice by teaching micheal self defense and giving him a switchblade with his initials on it. one night, micheal snapped, finally having enough with his parents abuse, and ran away. he lived on the streets for a year, joined a circus that was in town as a acrobat and knife thrower, but didn't go with the circus when they left.

shortly after the circus, micheal was left starving on the streets again, and had to steal food to survive. snyder caught him, but micheal slipped away. in the chase, snyder grabbed him and gave him the scar on his face, taking him to the refuge for a few months after.

a manhattan newsie (havent decided who, maybe skittery or blink) saw him on the streets and offered him a job. manhattan was too close to where micheals parents lived, so he asked if there was anywhere else he could get a job.

the newsie told him about all the distribution gates for all the papers, and all the different boroughs. the leader of queens at the time (i didnt know who it actually was in the show so hes an oc ig too) Crush, was an ass and treated his boys like dirt, so micheal made his way over to queens.

crush refused to let micheal sleep in the lodging house at first, so he just hung around, watching. after a week or two of being there, he and the newsie who acted as queens' medic, Jade, came up with a plan to overthrow crush. long story short, crush found out, tried to shoot micheal in an alley, hit his side, and micheal walked out with a brand new pistol, not to mention title.

he hated his old name, so he changed it to Ezekiel, Eel for short. crowning himself the King of Queens, and a new era of ruling came along.

sketch break lmao (i love this one sm)

ok so he became really close friends with manhattan newsies, despite being on the other side of the bridge from them. might have had a teeny tiny crush on spot, but once he saw race did too he immediately started trying to get sprace together lol

jack takes him to see medda, and she takes one look at him and goes "hmm, this boy needs a mother figure" and takes him under her wing. once she learns abt his time at the circus, she offers to let him be in some of her shows for some extra money.

he only wears the tutu outfit sometimes, mostly to make the guys laugh, but he likes the makeup and he really enjoys the stage, but would never leave queens fully, so medda's is mostly just for fun and when he needs to de-stress.

his second is named Shoe (another oc lmao) Shoe's real name is Harvey, but he only lets Eel call him that, and thats mostly only when hes in trouble lol

i dont have any sketches of shoe yet but i will i prommy<3

eel and shoe are dating<3 and the flushing lodging house's owner has basically adopted them. her name is Eden, shes italian, and she taught eel italian along with his french from his family, but they only speak it in private because people werent really accepting of 'foreign' things

anyway if i remember anything else ill put it later

yeah! thats eel/zeke, i love him dearly<3

[genesisgijinka]

hello! i've been reading genesis for...oh god, since 2017-2018, i think. and it's been a blast, i love the series a lot! it's a really unique storyline with one of my favorite characters (mewtwo, beloved) and your art is fantastic! i was wondering how much of the storyline you have planned out/had planned out, and how much of it has changed over time? and how far along we are in the storyline/how much is left before the end. i hope you have a good day!

Oh wow, you've been around for a while lol Hi friend!

I'll be honest, Genesis had the most bare bones of starts. I created the characters for what I thought was going to be a one-off costume month long challenge, with some other old ocs to fill out the roster. I had zero plan to create a story with these new characters, since I was brand new to the idea of having a story based off of pokemon game play. I've always been a first and foremost Zelda fan and was actually slowly picking at my own Zelda story at the time but I couldn't quite get the story to go the way I wanted and I was determined to draw that comic first.

And then I drew this:

This is the first time I drew Prime, and a younger M2-K, I think. One of the very few things I drew before I launched into starting Genesis. Y'all might recognize this scene from the first few pages of chapter 2 lol. I was riding off of that high of finishing my first long-term project and now I had somewhere where I could start. So three months after that October challenge, I decided screw it, I'll just draw this pokemon comic as a practice, be done in like 2-3 years, then work on Zelda again. And then lol here we are almost 7 years later.

Read more bc it accidentally kinda got long :'D

A lot of my planning has gone like this; I draw a thing, and then work it into the story somewhere like threading pearls on a string, then I add more beads in between the pearls as I go.

So Genesis has points that I know I'm going to hit (the ending has probably the thoroughly written script of all of Genesis and I'm quite happy with it) but a lot of it is in a fuzzy grey area of I only kinda know what's going to happen next, I just need to write how to get there. It keeps me engaged with the story and the few drawings I have as story concepts are the juicy carrots I dangle in front of myself to keep the motivation going even if I'm going through an art rut or if work has been particularly draining.

As for things that have changed? Alcina didn't exist in the beginning. I sketched up a gardevoir gijinka in my sketchbook bc I needed K to talk to someone. And then she stuck around. Heph wasn't originally planned either, and he actually replaced this guy:

left to right: M2-K, Talil the heliolisk, and Jean-Luc (mega'd)

Talil was originally going to be the one to fix K's prosthetics, but that's all I really had him around for, and he eventually got scrapped. Which is a real shame, because heliolisk is one of my favorite Kalos mons. I did later use the concept of shorting out K's prosthetics when he fought a luxray in chapter 1.

I can't remember when V came into being, but I think it was sometime after Genesis had started, but well before she was introduced. She was originally supposed to be that one mewtwo from the Genesect movie (and that's where the V in M2-V originated from, M2-K was originally short for Mewtwo-Kalos. And then I made it worse by going alphabetically :) )

As for how much longer are we going to have? We've definitely passed the halfway point. But since I've had a revelation and added [REDACTED] in to the story, chapter 3 got longer unexpectedly and is gonna be split into a surprise fourth chapter. And then an epilogue, but //handwaves that's farther down the line.

[stealthboy43]

The long night arc: Part 7

OC's by @limeinaltime and @edibletrees2

Art/ Written by @stealthboy43

M.O.M: Reinforcements

BOOM!!

The missle slammed into the side of her head, her vision becoming clouded with the bright glow of fire which was then snuffed out by a dark plume of smoke

Caught of balance, the scythe she had swung had missed Uzi and N, but M.O.M was too infuriated to notice.

Who did that?! Where did it come from?!

Then she heard the roar coming from above her.

INCOMING MISSILES DETECTED

She looked up and sure enough there was a barrage of them, heading straight her way like a swarm of angry wasps.

On pure instinct alone, M.O.M. swung her scythes in their direction.

BOOM! BOOM BOOM!

In an instant, they all disappeared, replaced by small fiery plumes which dissipate and add to the already dust-filled air.

She scanned the air again to make sure there were no more, and the feedback came back empty.

Now time to figure out what brats shot those…

ANALYSIS MODE

The missiles were not long-range, which means that whoever did it was close. And they had to be a disassembly or assassination drone. They weren’t heat-seeking either, meaning if they came from above, the shooter was above. But for so many to be fired at once…

I see. It appears the cavalry have arrived…

SCANNING AREA

DETECTION: North 17°, 300ft elevation, 5 targets

“Gotcha…”

.

M: Being part of the cavalry blows.

10 minutes earlier

M had been relaxing watching the planets two moons rise. He was sitting on demolished vehicle, probably a van of some unknown brand. Eko, V, 0, and 21 were still back at the clearing, practicing their new techniques they had developed.

M however needed a break from all the annoying commands by Eko, and the terrifying thing that was V. 0 and 21 were ok, and A was, well, he was A.

 It was a rare moment of calm these past few days;  usually they were filled with nothing but stress, training and planning for the upcoming confrontation. 

Even in the small comedic and heartwarming and flatout irritating moments, which mostly included loud arguments which then had to be broken with with force, there was always the unspoken dread wich poked at their minds which was impossible to ignore.

Sure, everything seemed fine now, they could laugh and argue and act like the kids they could never be when they were younger.

Yet the tumor that was dread grew with every passing day, the tension and anticipation building like water blocked by a dam. And that dam would break some day. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday, sometime.

And what will you do when it happens? What can you do when it happens?

M smacked his head. There it was again. M always had that small whisper every now and again, flaring up more times than others.

Yet with every day that went by it always seems to be speaking louder, more clearly.

“Hiya, watcha doing?”

M turned around to see who it was, but of course that voice was unmistakable.

It was his boyfriend A.

“N-nothing, just thinking..”

“Oh I see.W-well you know what woul look god with your thoughts? Me!” He said with an awkward smile.

But M couldn’t help but smile.

“ Oh I don’t need to do that.” He said

“Eh?” A said with a perplexed face.

M then spread his lips into a mischievous smile “You know… because youve never left my mind.”

A still wore his cute confused face, but when the realization hit him of what it meant, it seemed as if a freight train that had lost its brakes slammed into him.

“HUH!? HUUUUHHH!?!?”

A’s face erupted into a furry of yellow stripes as the blush flared so fast that if M had blinked he would have missed the transition.

M still had his mouth spread into a smile, not of mischief anymore but more of a amused smirk as A continued to panic at M’s comment.

“Where are they?!?” A sudden yell from behind them ceased the mood. It was Eko.

M naturally felt the feeling of annoyance, but then it was replaced by an awareness.

The voice didn’t sound annoyed or angry or something like that. It sounded distressed, an emotion that wasint common within Eko.

This realization got M off his bottom, and looked back to where the voice was, scanning the snow covered street in front of him.

“M, A, GET OVER HERE NOW!”

Then he saw Eko, her dark blue hair and coat blowing in the small wind, her eyes glowing a neon blue that shone with distress. In one hand she held her sniper rifle, the other cupped on her mouth as she continued calling for them

“A, come on, something’s up!” 

A meanwhile had not heard Ekos voice, still caught up in the flustered emotions, but snapped out of it as M unveiled his wings to quickly fly over to Eko.

“Hey, wait! Where are you going!?”

M landed next to Eko, who turned and to him and looked at him with minor annoyance.

“There you are, you just had to go and rest this far Huh?”

“Ok now that’s an exaggeration, I was only a couple hundred feet away.”

Eko looked past him to see A who was running up behind M, suddenly collapsing on the floor in exhaustion

“Did you… have to… make me… run?”

“You can fly you know…” Eko said bluntly.

“Oh yeah.” A had clearly forgotten about that.

“But never mind that, we gotta go!” Eko said. 

“Go?” M asked “Go where?”

“Where do you think?” She said Grimly

Eko pulled a device out of her pocket.

The small mechanical tool, barely bigger than a baseball, gave out rythmicc irritating beeps which would be accompanied by red flash from a small light bulb.

It was the beacon.

The Dam had broken today afterall.

***

Present time

OH FUCK!! Was the initial thought M had when he saw the black slashes speeding their way.

A couple seconds ago, everything seemed perfectly fine, calm even.

M was high in the air, having just transition from a missile launcher back to his hand.

The first part of their quickly crafted plan was done: Distract M.O.M by getting her attention, and pellting her with missiles was reasoned to be the most efficient trick.

Along with him was V, 7, 0, and A. Eko and 21 were on the ground reading the next part.

But M, seeing how calm it seemed, thought that maybe they ahd killed her, or that she didnt care enough to attack them now.

That was until the black dots he had noticed quickly grew larger.

***

M quickly flapped in wings in a panic; without much time to think, he flung himself to the right to get out of the way of the oncoming black blade. He got out of the way, only to be in the direct path of dozens more.

M tried to flap his wings, just to get himself high and buy himself more time to get out of their way, but the slashes were just too fast and he felt the striking pain in his shoulder. 

But it wasint the pain like a blade slicing him, more of like getting hit in the side by a hammer. M was propelled to the side, turning his eyes to at least cath a glance at who or what had just shoved him aside. She had short silver hair and neon yellow eyes which were alert and focused at the slashes. It was V.

While M was still trying to get himself balanced in the air again, V in a heartbeat switched her hands to her blades, and almost elegantly swung away at the slashes.

SLASH SLASH SLASH

Her blades sharper then a sword and stronger than steel cut away at them, splashing harmlessy by her before gravity took the black droplets and fell.

And while V was in his eyesight, in his peripheral was 7.

She wasint as great at precision, but 7 was a hell of a good flyer. She continuously dodged the waves of black, flapping and turning her wings and shifting her limbs to avoid the blades.

Even 0 was managing to hold his own, though the slashes still scrapped his plating, small streams of the oil leaking out.

And M was doing nothing.

What can you do? It was the whisper in his head.

 You want to give M.O.M a shakespear style play? Wanna put on a show and wait for the applause to come like in your fantasies where your actually useful and fulfilling? 

M hovered there. If not for his auditory function telling his wings to keep him afloat, he would be falling down to the cold surface of copper 9.

What could he do? He wasint strong like the projects, flexible and a perfect flyer  like 7.

Nothing, he could do nothing.

Nothing, nothing, noth-

“AGH!”

 The pained and terrified yelp attracted his eyes. 

And what he saw was more terrifying than even M.O.M.

It was a terrified A, fear in his eyes as he was struggling to dodge any of the slashes.

M didnt even think, it was pure instinct.

He flapped his wings and darted towards A.

Suddenly he didnt care about getting hit or slashed. He didnt care about the surprised faces on V or 7 or 0. He didnt care.

Suddenly all he cared about was making sure A didnt die.

M put himself in front of A and flapped his wings foward.

The first few blades slammed against his wings, drenching him in the black goo. But soon he was forced to unblock to stay afloat. Still he took out his blades and slashes away at the blades.

He wasint able to cut at all of them. He would be cut and wounded. But he didnt care.

‘M your-” A gasped.

“Just keep behind me!” M yelled, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Eko, 21! Please for the love of god, hurry up!!

Eko: Target engaged

Eko was the one who came up with the plan.

From what X had told her about M.O.M from their shared connection, she was the perfect creation.

M.O.M wasint just a stupidly strong drone who also was a lunatic, which was a bad combination within itself. M.O.M was also stupidly smart. 

M.O.M was the most AI out of any AI. The drones who had gained sentience did have some AI factors, though a majority had the same senses as ordinary humans. Even the disassembly drones, who were bred as expert hunters and add advanced location systems, were limited in their ability.

M.O.M was a whole different story.

Advanced motion detection, Infrared, Night vision, heightened hearing,  GPS, even google maps. And of course M.O.Ms three neon eyes were just a ruse like the all the murder drones. She really had more, she didnt know how much, but she had alot.

All of them able to focus on a target and analyize them to find the best way to counter them.

Essentially, M.O.M was the ultimate multitasker.

But there was a flaw to her, and it wasint like a bug or anything. It was her personality.

M.O.M has a HUGE god complex.

M.O.M thought she was perfect, the pinnacle of technological achievement, physically incable of making any mistake.

Thus, if they distracted her just a bit, there was a chance she and 21 could sneak in close. She had 21 because her invisibility would act as another cover just incase. But they still had to hurry.

The team in the sky seemed like they were holding well now, but Eko knew it was only a matter of time before M.O.M got the better of them.

But the distraction worked, M.O.M hadint detected her or 21 who was on the ground and Eko who had up the walls on the outside of the warehouse and sneaked her way in though one of the many holes in the ceiling and roof.

She jumped onto one of the beams of the rafters and looked to the ground.

There was Uzi and N, Uzi was on his back clutching for dear life, and N looking like we had been though hell. Cuts and scraped littered his body, a nasty looking gash on his side which was leaking oil. 

Then she looked to M.O.M and-

And then something happened which never happens to Eko.

She looked to M.O.M, and she became scared.

M.O.M didnt just look a little scary, M.O.M looked terrifying.

Tall, menacing, the black goo of the void showing its ominous prescence.

She took her fifle and aimed at M.O.M.

And she did nothing.

What are you waiting for? Shoot.

But her finger refused to press down on the trigger. The fear just wouldnt allow it.

M.O.M hasint noticed her yet. She could easily just leave. She could just climb out and sneak away. She could hide as M.O.M killed everyone else and hide so M.O.M wouldnt find her and make M.O.M think she had got everyone.

Easily, so easil-

M.O.M swung her arm noticeably faster and fiercer, and her scythe crashed into the ground in front of N, a move he did not see coming and he was flown back.

What the actual FUCK are you thinking right now!?

Eko mentally snapped at herself. Like hell she was going to do that. She was half assed if she even attempted it. Nope.

She shoved the fear into the pit of her stomach. She couldnt afford to be scared. She would deal with being scared later.

“How sad, even after your friends up there came you still have to die like this.” M.O.M said to the helpless looking N and Uzi.

Over my ass you sociopatheic freak! Eko yelled in her head.

She aimed and pulled the trigger and-

M.O.M: Target enraged

Clink

The metallic clink of the bullet against her felt like nothing more than a pebble. She didnt take notice at first, Instead preparing to attack N and Uzi so she could fully concentrate on the mosquitos in the sky.

Crack! Clink. Crack! Clink.

More of the bullets berated her back, and M.O.M turned to see where these pebbles were coming from.

Looking up, she saw a worker drone among the rafters.

Actually wait- that wasint a worker, it was one of those core drones.

So they have some more help, how pitiful.

M.O.M swung her arm and her scythe shot in the direction of the core drone. M.O.M then put her focus back on attacking the drones in the sky, and the other two in the warehouse.

Crack! Clink.

A bullet had been fired again, this time hitting her directory on her visor. The bullet didnt crack it, though it momentarely obscured her vision. Both confused and irritated, M.O.M focused one of her three eyes in the rafters. There was a giant hole in the ceiling from where her scythe had struck, small snow flakes trickling though. Where was the-

Again, the bullet smacked against the glass, and the eye darted to where the bullet had been fored, and there she was again, in a different location among the rafters.

the core drone fired her rifle once more just as M.O.M had swung her scythe again. Again, M.O.M had missed.

Last time may have been a fluke on her part, but there was no way M.O.M could have missed again. She attacked  and swung her scythe again, and again, again.

But the continuos spray of bullets always gave the cover the core drone needed. They were so precise and accurate it was almost incredible, and that stupid drone could fire them even while dodging such fast attacks.

M.O.M was quickly growing from irritated to angry, and she decided to spare one of her arms to attack the little pest. 

Again, she swung, again she was temporielly blinded, again she missed.

Thats it! She thought with anger.

M.O.M unleashed her black slashes up to the ceiling, the projectiles crashing into the ceiling, splitting and crushing the rafters like they were twigs, and parts of the ceiling crumble down. The core drone was visibly caught off guard, but quickly reacted, jumping between and even on some of the debris.

But she was moving slower and couldnt fire at her again. M.O.M tried taking the opportunity to finish of the drone for good.

But she was interrupted again, not by the core drone, but instead by a missile which slammed into her side. Her eyes darted everywhere, scrambling to find what had happened.

Where did that come from!?! She thought angrily.

That missile was ground level, someone fired it In here!!

But she could not see anything. It was like the missile appeared out of thin away.

WHAM! SHe was once again slammed by another one, this time from a different direction. She turned and again no one there.

It was then she realized Uzi and N were gone.

M.O.M wasint just angry anymore. She was furious.

“STOP WITH THESE PATHETIC TRICKS YOU WEAKLINGS!!!!”

Incoming target

M.O.M looked up in shock. She had become too distracted, and allowed those drones in the sky to get closer.

One flew in the warehouse. It had cyan eyes which glowed a neon color, her black tail ending in a sizable blade which too was glowing. 

Its one of those projects She realized.

Before M.O.M could react, the drone spun around and swung her tail, and a wave of cyan liquid barreled twords M.O.M.

M.O.M lefted her arm to shield herself just as the cyan liquid, which she quicklydiscerned were nanites, splashed on her.

In retaliation, M.O.M attempted to swing her scythe at her, but suddenly her joints became stiff.

Looking at them, she saw Ice begin to form on her, growing on her joints and making them hard.

I see. These nanites must be able to create ice like liquid nitrogen.

The other drones soon poured into the warehouse, and seeing her partially incapacitated, they took their opportunity.

M.O.M was pellted by missiles, machine gun fire, and sniper bullets.

Soon her glass began to crack and her metal plating was getting dented.

M.O.M by now had calmed down.

Well then. I suppose I need to get a little serious.

Next part, M.O.M gets serious…

The Emotions of M.O.M

[heniareth]

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH my brilliant friend you know what? First the notification that you liked the ask game came up and the jittering began BUT NOW YOU HAVE REBLOGGED!!!! PREPARE. TO BE. ASKED.!!!!! Ok now I'll ask a lot, because I'm curious about a lot, and you just pick whatever you want to answer yeah? Yeah! <3 <3 I'll put this under the cut as it's ended up quite long (you said you were on the road tmrw and I didn't know if you'd be on mobile to answer, so I wrote the prompts here so you didn't have to get out of this to go back to the list-- god help me if it turns out there's an easy way to do it and I don't know it :P) Hope you're having a grand time!!!!

NOW!!!!!! For Astala my beloved, as she is always on my mind, let me put forth requests FOR: 1 (what is their colour palette), 2 (what does their handwriting look like), 10 (what piece of moody poetry or novel quote best encompasses your character), and 22 (what is some advice or guidance they received that had a big impact on their lives or outlook? was it a positive or a negative impact)

For Ilanlas my bitey beloved, who spins in my head like he's been glued to a chair-o-plane seat, I'd like to enquire about 4 (if your OC likes art, talk about what they would like best), 8 (if your OC were to live in an alternate time period, which one would suit them best), 12 (what is their character theme song and why? if it has lyrics, pick which ones best suit them), and 24 (is mental, physical, or emotional wellbeing most important to them)

And for Marelas my brand spanking new beloved, who is shiny and taking shape so gorgeously in my head, may I ask 3 (what architectural or design aesthetic would suit them best), 9 (if your OC were to imagine their idyllic life, realistically or otherwise, what would it be like), 23 (what sort of rules, routines, and rituals do they set for themselves), and 26 (if they were to lose the person closest to them, how would they mourn them and how would they handle their grief)

Plant, lovely friend!!! I am so excited for this!!! I did end up having to drive the other day (this is why the asks are trickling out of my askbox rather than being answered all at once), but here we are!!! And such asks!!! Let's talk about the beloveds! A cut is required because this never is short (please take as long as you like with this because it’s. Really Long.)

I appreciate you putting the whole questions into the ask so much!!! It makes life easier (and asks long, but no long asks ever intimidated us, did they? XD)

Astala

1 (what is their colour palette)

Oh boy. Astala loves her colors. She usually goes for muted colors. You know, kinda something like a fall palette. Here are some examples:

When she’s at court as arlessa or as the Hero of Ferelden, however, she very deliberately wears brighter and more saturated (and thus more expensive) colors, and if there’s jewelry involved she’ll go for gold. She’s definitely flaunting her status here in front of all the shem. At the Landsmeet, she’s well known for her red dress; a callback to her first encounter with the most esteemed nobility of Ferelden (aka. Vaughan). If she’s somewhere in her capacity as Hero of Ferelden she’s restricted to blues and silvers, sadly, but she makes it work (and work very well indeed, as Zevran would add). Below are the same colors as above with higher brightness and saturation to give you an idea of what that might look like:

2 (what does their handwriting look like)

Astala, dearest Astala, started her career of doing paperwork while having a fancy title with nothing to prepare her for hours spent writing (she does know how to write, thank you very much). In the beginning, her handwriting suffers from it. She grips the pen with way to much strength and either ends up with a hole in the paper or a cramp in her hand (or both). But practice makes perfect, and after a bit of practice, her handwriting is even and orderly as can be. She tends to make her lowercase letters pretty tall and overall her writing leans to the right. If she's sending informal letters (like the one to Sten) she likes underlining the important words to accurately convey the meaning and intonation of her sentences. She's also one to use several instances of P.S. to tell the whole of what she wants to tell. Her letters are mostly always nice and structured; she's better at accounting than writing, and tables are amazing, so she makes liberal use of bullet points and the like to speed up and organize the flow of information.

10 (what piece of moody poetry or novel quote best encompasses your character)

We've got a couple different ones here, so I stitched them together!

"It is never too late to be what you might have been." —George Eliot

This quote spoke to me because Astala was supposed to be a troublemaker like her mother and live a quiet, unassuming life like her father, was supposed to get married and start a family and is now a Grey Warden.

"Nobody protects us. So we protect us." —Miriam in Dragon Age: Absolution

This one is pretty obvious. Astala is big on protecting and wholeheartedly believes in her community and the need to stick together.

"All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt." —Charles M. Schulz

This one just made me laugh XD XD Astala loves to enjoy things (regardless of whether they are luxuries or not), but she does yearn for close connections. And when she can't have them, having access to nice things is definitely a way she copes with a potential lack of close relationships

"But of course, your Excellence. A true commander takes responsability for the life and death of the men he sends into battle; it's only right and proper that he should be held accountable for them. At the first stolen chicken you may have my head." —Rankstrail in The Last Orc by Silvana de Mari (a bit of context: Rankstrail is sassing the local governor's military people bc they wanted to torture one of his soldiers over a stolen chicken. And the chicken wasn't even a fat one to begin with!)

This book series is a YA fantasy series that I stopped reading after some installments because the characters I loved the most kept dying or falling into depression with no visible way out, but it handles poverty, government incompetence and injustice beautifully. Incidentally, the government in question has a very futuristic style of architecture, and given the Italian name of the author I wonder if there are some intended parallels to a fascist government. Back to the book, Rankstrail is definitely one of my favorite characters and the whole series was very formative when I read it as a teen. I wanted to include a quote and this one stuck out to me because Astala has to navigate some authorities trying to pull one on her while sneering down on her as well. I think she and Rankstrail would find common ground in that (and in the book series the whole thing is amazing bc Rankstrail dances circles around these people but they always maintain the upper hand in the end because they have the power and the resources and he doesn't!)

22 (what is some advice or guidance they received that had a big impact on their lives or outlook? was it a positive or a negative impact?)

I've talked about how Astala has been impacted by her mother, for good and bad. Her father mostly taught her by word and by example how to look for work and keep it, as well as how to care for her family. I really should talk more about Cyrion, because obviously he had the bigger impact on her here, but I want to talk about Valendrian.

When Cyrion was still recovering emotionally from losing Adaia and physically from having spent a winter sick (half of it working), Valendrian often took the Tabris kids with him when he made his rounds around the Alienage. Other children in sinilar situations had other adult family members (aunts, uncles, grandparents, adult cousins) who could do the same; not the Tabrises, so the hahren had to step in. Working with Valendrian gave them something to do, connected them more with their people and allowed them to feel useful and capable in a situation that was very much beyond their control. He sent them to run errands for families who couldn't, to deliver medicine or food, to watch over kids, to help clean a house or a street or warehouse, or took them with him to visit people who were sick (and not contagious), alone or grieving. He also often took the scenic route to his destinations and tried to send two of them ahead or something to get time with the third one alone. With Astala he talked about her mother, about her father, about the weather, her future, Soris, Shianni, and, when she was fourteen and still helping him out, her crush on Alarith (that moment in the first chapter of her story when she offers Valendrian her help with Vaughan and Valendrian tells her to step back? That's a callback to those days, when she and her cousins used to help him all the time).

Basically, Valendrian tried to lend these three kids what support he could give them. He's Astala's reference for what leading a community looks like, and what a community is, how it works, and so forth. This comes in very handy during the Blight, but especially later, as arlessa. She is some steps further removed from her people than Valendrian was at that point, but the basic procedures stay the same.

Ilanlas

4 (if your OC likes art, talk about what they would like best)

Ilanlas is very much about statues and abstract art. I think he’d love the black and white paintings of Franz Kline. It's the kind of art where he feels like he can step into it; the feelingnis comparable to when he sees a grove of trees or a structure of rocks or a bend of the road in the distance and wants to go and check it out. These paintings form a kind of space for him where he can retreat into. It's very nice and calming.

He'd also love sculptures made out of driftwood, particularly those where the wood has been left to stay in its original shape. In his opinion, taking the raw material as it is and working with its shape instead of bending said shape to one's will is much more imaginative, creative, respectful.

And then, while snooping through the internet, I found this piece, Burning from Within by Christopher David White. It's ceramic, not wood, which is a feat in and of itself, but what Ilanlas would find amazing is the way the copper leaf on the inside really makes it look like it's wood being consumed by embers. He'd see it from the back and get all excited about it jntil he'd realize that the thibg is not a piece of a hollowed-out tree but. Y'know. The naked torso af a woman. That'd bother him a lot; the ubiquity of naked women in art in general would. Why does everything have to be about having the hots for random women? Wtf??? (He's very unimpressed by the countless Andraste statues everywhere as well. At least they're clothed.)

8 (if your OC were to live in an alternate time period, which one would suit them best)

I answered this one here! It’s kinda hard to find a time period that’d suit him. He’s so integrated in Thedas. But, now that I think of it, he would’ve had a blast in the 80s. He’d have his own painted van and everything. He and Tamlen would just take off and make a long, long roadtrip to wherever the road will take them. They'd set up camp in the middle of nowhere, stop in the desert and spend the whole night looking up at the stars, park the van in the curb of a steep mountain road to climb those extremely climbable rocks, watch the sunrise next to a gigantic waterfall that douses them from head to toe in fine spray water. Merrill comes along sometimes and has them stopping at tourist attractions, museums and canyons. Can you imagine Ilanlas with sunglasses and a bandana holding his long hair back? He’d have so much fun XD XD XD XD

That said, big aside: since the Dalish have ties to Native Americans, Roma and jewish people, all of the above might not've been possible. I don't have a lot of knowledge on the situation of these people in the 80s, in the USA and otherwise, but what little I know makes me think that Ilanlas would've been more preoccupied with travel restrictions, bad faith from the authorities and just the general population, poverty and all of its lovely companions. For his sake, I'd like that not to be so. On the other hand, erasing the past of other people is not good. I hope he does get to see at least one sunrise next to that waterfall tho

12 (what is their character theme song and why? if it has lyrics, pick which ones best suit them)

I have. Several songs I relate to this man, but here’s one. Sound the Bugle from the movie Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron.

If you lose yourself

Your courage soon will follow

So be strong tonight

Remember who you are

I don't have a lot of smart things to say here, except that he's really going through it. Where Astala is doing her damnest to eke out a place for herself, no matter how small, where she can live her life as close as possible to what it used to be, Ilanlas has thrown himself wholesale into the Grey Wardens. The only thing he keeps for himself is the right to take vengeance for Tamlen, and since that means killing darkspawn, it's not really something that detracts from his role in the order (while Astala very much does try to put as much distance between herself and the order as she can). Losing Tamlen was like losing a huge chunk of himself for Ilanlas. When he finds Tamlen again, these verses will be significant.

24 (is mental, physical, or emotional wellbeing most important to them)

I think his emotional wellbeing is the most important to him because it's the most fragile. He has a very decent pain tolerance and doesn't mind getting sweaty or having his legs full of mud after trekking through the countryside for hours. He's also good at problem-solving and decision-making generally comes easy to him (even if they're not always the best decisions).

It's the emotions that get him; some things hurt him deeply and he doesn't know what to do with that. In other instances it's just him losing his cool or being brusque and not thinking much of it, only to then turn around and find that the other person is offended and blames him. There are many people that feel things more deeply than him, and he finds it hard to understand that because to him it's no big deal. It's a bit of a vicious circle, tbh. He seriously and unwillingly hurts somebody and then gets hurt back bc the other person reacts negatively for no reason, seemingly. Or even lashes out. Long story short, it's the emotional wellbeing that bugs him the most and that is thus most important to him.

Marelas

3 (what architectural or design aesthetic would suit them best)

I think Marelas would enjoy the Arts and Crafts Movement. It's beautiful (could do with a bit warmer and more vibrant colors though), practical and it puts great emphasis on the craft of the artisan. This man enjoys having beautifully made things around him, and that's one if the tenets of the Arts and Crafts Movement. You bet he had a say in Skyhold's furnishing, much to Vivienne's chagrin. Too Dalish for her taste.

He'd also have a field day in the Library at the National Palace of Mafra, Portugal. Baroque isn't his favorite (it's very Orlesian), but this building in particular is grand, but not gaudy, well illuminated, probably very cool in summer, and has tons of space in case he wants to strew his papers around to arrange them on the floor and look at them from a certain distance to get a look at the big picture of things. He likes mind maps. Also, the building apparently houses bats!! How cool is that?

9 (if your OC were to imagine their idyllic life, realistically or otherwise, what would it be like)

Here are some of the things Marelas would love to have in his life if you’d asked him right before the plot in Trespasser kicks off:

Study lore!! So much lore!! All the history and the magic, medicine, cultures, all of it!!

Peace for clan Lavellan.

A long life for Keeper Deshanna.

Many people around him he can trust and rely on.

Frequently meet the members of the Inquisition, see what work they have been doing, maybe even continue working with them to enrich the lives of the people of Thedas (and enrich is the keyword here. He’s no fighter when he can help it. He’d rather pursue social or cultural goals).

Be able to often visit Dorian, very often (the separation hit him hard, harder than he wants to admit. He thinks it commendable and a good thing that Dorian wants to better his homeland, but at the moment when Dorian told him he was leaving, Marelas did feel a bit abandoned in favor of more exciting pursuits. He and Dorian did have the chance to talk it through, however, and have settled on an arrangement that, so far, is satisfying to both. Still, he misses Dorian).

Not have any world-ending threats hanging above his head.

Foster more community between the city elves and the Dalish clans (I think somebody from his family came from the city, probably an uncle who married into his mother’s side of the family).

23 (what sort of rules, routines, and rituals do they set for themselves)

Back at his clan, his routine looked something like this:

Wake up, have a handful of something, pray alone.

Do some stretching, have some real breakfast, revise what has to be done that day with Keeper Deshanna and the clan’s Second, and start. He sometimes works alone, sometimes they all work together or in pairs. They have a well-honed system.

Part of his routine is taking a round of the premises (wherever he is) and see how everybody is doing. He tends to do that around mealtime, after getting some work in.

If somebody wants to converse with him, he will tend to schedule it in the afternoon, preferrably right after having eaten lunch and taken a bit of quiet time to himself, or when the sun is already lowering towards the horizon. He finds these are hours best spent quietly, and that they lend themselves more to thinking than to doing.

He will also pray alone in the evening, right after dinner if he can manage. He will go over the day, write up things that have to be done next (either the following day or at some point in the future), offer up the good and the bad, and enjoy the quiet as the sun sets and the stars start to shine.

Prayer is very important to him, and throughout the day there would be more opportunities, mostly with Keeper Deshanna and clan Lavellan’s Second. He tries his best to keep this routine after the explosion at the Conclave, although Keeper Deshanna and clan Lavellan’s Second are replaced by Cullen, Josephine and Leliana. He does miss the more relaxed rhythm of the life in his clan, but he makes do well. It is strange to him to be at the head of a group instead of the leader’s right hand. He takes responsability quite seriously and the biggest break in his routine is him doing paperwork until way later than he intended. Sometimes, it’s almost a relief when he can leave Skyhold to go roam around Thedas.

Another big interruption to his routine can be any sort of magical or historical study that catches his interest. He’s an academic at heart. In the Jaws of Hakkon DLC, he was happy as a clam at first, searching for Inquisitor Ameridan, and even in the Descent DLC he would rather have spent time studying the runes on the wall than investigating the earthquakes. The Emerald Graves were a treasure trove (albeit a bitter one). If there’s a piece of work that captures his interest, he will get his duties done, sure. But later you’ll find him writing deep into the night. Sometimes his room looks like a tornado came through and scattered complex diagrams and drawings throughout. This turns a bit unhealthy after he drinks of the Well of Sorrows. He now has direct access to knowledge from Arlathan, and he considers it one of his duties to record EVERYTHING the well tells him. He ends up with incoherent scribbles more often than not, but at other points he wrote down a poem, sketched a view from the temple of Sylaise, found a recipe to help with some kind of cough, found hints of an old technique to enrich iron, and so forth. It’s fascinating, but dangerous. More than once, somebody else had to take the pen out of his hand and send him to bed, or otherwise bring him back to reality.

26 (if they were to lose the person closest to them, how would they mourn them and how would they handle their grief)

Ooooh, this is a heavy one. Let's do it >:)

Okay, first of all, Marelas would nowadays have been diagnosed with some form of anxiety disorder (or maybe even PTSD, since the symptoms manifested after an accident in which he nearly drowned). As part of dealing with persistent worries, intense fears of danger and death, and with a generalized feeling of helplessness and loss of control, Keeper Deshanna encouraged him to seek special connection with Falon'Din. The reasoning was that if he died, Falon'Din would be there; he wouldn't be alone. Take away some of the fear that death inspired, and everything would be much easier to deal with; that was Deshanna's reasoning. After all of that and all the events in Inquisition, Marelas likes to think of himself as someone who is familiar with grief and who knows that a loss such as this one will take time to heal. He will do his best to be patient and lean on other loved ones for support, to give himself time, to cherish the memories while stepping out of himself to create new ones. And he does good! He tries his best! He is able to step away from the moment, take a deep breath and brace himself for the things that are to come and he is able to stay moderately aware of his own wellbeing during the period of intense turmoil that follows the death of a loved one.

The reality, however, is that he's a very sensitive man who feels things deeply and for a very long time. He might be patient, experienced and good at taking his own feelings at face value, but his emotions are stubborn buggers. He'll most likely spend a couple of days numb, think that it's going better than he anticipated, until reality catches up to him and everything comes crashing down. After that, he will cry, a lot, but try to keep some of it to himself. He does occupy a position of responsibility after all, and he has to keep doing his work.

In fact, although he knows that giving himself time to actively grieve is important, he definitely puts his role as First (or the Keeper if it's Keeper Deshanna who died), well... first. If Keeper Deshanna died, he would even officiate the funeral. Embodying the figure of the First/Keeper removes him from his pain by focusing on other people's pain, although that's not the only reason why he blends into his role in the clan. He does genuinely want to help. It is, however, part of the reason why he spends some days functioning well while emotionally numb. He's not entirely conscious that he does this, and there's no easy answer here because he does have a responsability for the well-being of the clan. He does best when he has somebody that will step past the whole "he is responsible for everybody" thing and makes him contemplate how he is doing as a person. Hold a mirror in front of him, so to say. So yeah, that's him if somebody close to him from his clan dies.

If Dorian died... well, that's a whole other thing. He doesn't have any official role to disappear behind here, although he definitely would find something to try and occupy himself with. He'd definitely be at the funeral, and he'd definitely ask if he could help with anything. But he's out of his depth in Tevinter, and he's Dorian's partner from down south. Despite his best efforts, he'll have everybody's attention and he'll be at an utter loss on what to do.

So he'd do his best to hold his tears in and cry when he's alone. He'd try to meet Dorian's friends and family and establish at least a bit of a positive relationship with them. And in the process, he'd probably have at least one moment where he'd crack under the pressure and either run away or cry somewhere totally inappropriate and end up mortified and with all the pain spilling out.

All of this, of course, if Dorian or Keeper Deshanna didn't get assassinated. In that case his new mission would be hunting those bastards down, and that's what he'd stand behind until the emotions one day suddenly catch up to him. And he’d go for it with a lot of zeal. He isn’t an easy one to anger, but when he is angry, it holds for a long time.

After having digested the heap of emotions, he does his best to celebrate the person he's lost. He's quite meticulous about marking death-days, and consciously makes space on those days to remember and honor the deceased. He might put up an altar with things that remind him of them and spend a good chunk of the day reminiscing and talking to them (without receiving an answer of course. He might be a mage, but communion with the dead is rare). And he would honor them by trying to help along whatever efforts they pursued in life, if the chance presents itself. Falon'Din is still a god he holds in high regard, even if after Trespasser the elven gods as a whole are unstable ground to him, and honoring the dead is very important to him.

---

And that’s a wrap on these three! I hope the wait was worth it, and if you’ve read the whole thing, kudos to you! This was a very nice brain exercise XD XD XD It was really cool to get to know Ilanlas’s taste in art, tbh. I had a vague idea, but now I really want to sit down with him and talk about modern art. There’s a lot to go into there (starting with what the devil IS art??) and it’d be so interesting to hear what he likes and doesn’t like. Thank you so so so much for these wonderful questions!!!! I hope you are having an absolutely splendid few days!

[sheep-gone-wild]

Hello hello^^

This post is way too long over due, but i have newfound confidence and would actually like to have an introduction of myself!

So hello, I'm Sheepy^^ you can either call me Sheepy (most preferred) or Ajax (least preferred). Some more about me

Pronouns: they/them

Age: 20

Sign: aquarius☀️ taurus🌙 aries⬆️

What you'll see here: idk a whole lot lmao. Reposts of my Fandoms, multi-fandom posting, some art, and maybe some cat pics, who knows!

Other blogs: My side blog @sheep-in-the-attic is full of random shit posting. If you want my less filtered thoughts go there. @the-kp-of-nrc is an oc rp blog that's brand new! It's Fandom centric so for my twisted wonderland fans that ones for you! I have plans to make a separate art blog, and I'll add that one when and if I make it.

My DNI list is basic and includes the standard racism, homophobia, transphobia, and sexism, but I also include

Antisemitism

Denial of the war on Palestine

Zoophiles

MAPs

MAGA dick riders

This list will be updated as needed

The Fandoms and interests that you may see here include, but are also not limited to . . .

Disney twisted wonderland

Heaven official's blessing

Scum villians self saving system

The furry community

Dnd/ttrpg

Ao3 and fanfiction

Art, both digital and traditional

Minecraft

The sims

Black butler

Seraph of the end

And lots more that I am too tired to think of👍🏻

A few more things before I go . . .

I am over 18, so there may be adult themes on this blog such as heavy swearing and nsfw/adult content that may or may not be filtered depending on how mature it is. I would recommend. I say this for the minors who may follow this blog from my twst rp side blog. Be warned that I'm an adult and not afraid to discuss adult topics!!

Divider credits go to @/saradika-graphics

[libsterslobsters]

Whole Lotta Love

Synopsis: For some people, Valentine’s Day is another word for "stress", especially when you don't know what the other person is expecting. Several years into their relationship, Bucky’s pretty sure he has a good understanding of the Reader, until a word from Sam makes him question everything he thinks he knows. The race is on to make their first Valentine’s Day since saying their vows a special one, but as per usual, fate has it's own ideas about what will make the holiday truly memorable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Author's note: This fic contains references to earlier stories. For more information, click the series masterlist link. As always, the reader is unnamed so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I think of her as an OC.

The song referenced is Hearts Don't Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran

Series Masterlist

A The Song Remains The Same Fic

---------‐-----------------------------------

“So, Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky doesn’t look up from his laptop (or more specifically, the field report he’s typing) at Sam’s words. Despite his concentration, he can tell that his partner is staring at him, boring holes into his back with his gaze.

“Uh-huh.” He’s listening, but so far, he doesn’t care.

“What are you doing for it?” For Valentine’s day? Um…

“Not much.” It’s a Tuesday this year, right? Then probably working, like most other people, he’d imagine.

The room is silent as he types, so Bucky assumes that settles the matter. That is, until Sam mutters a quiet, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“About what?” How many paragraphs does he have to type before he can pass this off as a full report? When he joined the Avengers, he thought the hardest part of his job would be the bad guy of the week, not doing paperwork!

“You’re really not doing anything for Valentine’s Day? Seriously?” He nods absentmindedly and clicks the save icon. He’ll finish this tomorrow. It’s five o’clock. Time to head home. Home to-

“What’s your wife gonna think about that?” He shrugs and cuts the power to the laptop.

“She thinks that the whole holiday is a rip-off. See you Monday?” He turns around for confirmation, only to catch Sam staring at him, mouth hanging wide open. “What?”

“A rip-off?” Is he just going to be stuck repeating himself?

“Yep.” Told him that the first February 14th they spent together.

“And you actually believed her?”

He nods. “She’s not one to lie.”

Sam nods incredulously. “Uh-huh. And are you planning to ever have sex again?”

He’s not going to dignify that with an answer (because really, isn’t it obvious?).

“Fine.” Sam shrugs. “You do you, man. All I’m saying is, if I had a wife who looked like that-” he indicates the lock screen of Bucky’s phone (a picture of her laughing, telling him to put away the damn camera after wrestling the dog for the tie to her favorite robe). “-I’d have my V-day plans set up a month in advance.”

Normally Bucky would take what Sam says with a grain of salt, but he is after all a man out of time, so maybe it’s worth considering that his partner may be right.

“What would you suggest I do?”

“Outside of the bedroom?” He narrows his eyes at the Falcon. “Okay, bad joke.” Sam scratches at the back of his head, thinking. “I don’t know, man. That’s your girl. You know her best, but flowers are always a good place to start.” Good to know that hasn’t changed since the 1940s. Although, last time he brought her flowers, she spent the afternoon sneezing until he eventually convinced her that it was okay, he wouldn’t be offended, she should throw the damn things out. Then again, that was before she was a super soldier.

“Flowers.” He repeats, earning a nod from Sam.

“You can get creative. Do a little research. But I’m just saying, when a woman waits five years for you to reappear, the least she deserves is a few flowers.” On that, they can agree.

He must bid Sam some sort of goodbye and make his way through the Avengers compound, but he’s unaware of anything until he’s in the parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of his car, googling “What to do for your wife on Valentine’s Day.” There’s a web page that boasts twenty different selections. Might as well give it a look.

___________________________________________________________________________________

She’s nearly home when her phone dings with a text from Barnes. “Just got in. Forgot to get milk. Can you swing by on your way, or should I go to the gas station and pick up a gallon?” A frown forms on her face. It’s pretty rare that Bucky forgets things. Must’ve been a hell of a day at work, then. Either that, or his brain has completely turned to mush thanks to typing out field reports. Either way-

“I got it. See you in twenty.” She thinks about tacking on a “love you”, but the light turns green before she can.

The grocery store is packed thanks to so many people getting off work. There’s only three carts left, all with bad wheels. She chooses the least squeaky option and, grabbing an add on her way, heads into the grocery store. Milk, and if she remembers right from this morning, they’re running dangerously low on coffee and tea. Despite caffeine having absolutely no effect on their enhanced bodies, both of them are nightmares to be around in the mornings without their beverages of choice. Force of habit and all.

She’s halfway to the checkout when she sees it. A sign, decorated in garish shades of red, pink, and purple. “All Valentine’s Day chocolates 10% off.” Shit. Yeah, that is coming up. To tell the truth, she’d completely forgot all about that day halfway through February. For most of her life, it only meant giving homemade cards at school when most kids had store-bought. Then, once she reached adulthood, it was a reminder that she was destined to be alone. Who would want someone who’s on the run, and what’s more, sees the future? Once she and Barnes got together, it didn’t change much. That first Valentine’s Day, he mentioned the holiday, and she shut it down immediately. They were both broke (or at least, he had no legitimate way of making money while she was broke), and celebrating a mostly commercial holiday seemed like a waste. Plus, she didn’t want to put a strain on a new relationship. Over the years, the subject never came up again, and she’s content for it to stay a non-starter, thank you very much. In her opinion, you should show your partner you love them every day of the year, not shoe-horn it into one twenty-four hour period. Call her unromantic if you must.

She’s completely immune to the various displays of cheap chocolate in heart-shaped boxes and overly sentimental cards as she approaches the register and starts to unload her items. Milk. Tea. That one specific brand of coffee that he likes because, “It tastes like what we drank in basic training. Terrible, but I kinda got used to it, so now everything else tastes like it’s trying too hard.” whatever that means. He’s right; she’s tasted it, and it’s fucking awful. Still, every morning, he drinks at least three cups while she drains her pot of tea.

“You got a hot date for Valentine’s Day, hun?” The cashier asks her, never breaking her rhythm as she rings up the items.

She chuckles. “As a matter of fact, yes.” The cashier’s eye go wide, and she holds up her left hand. “And every other day.”

“Ooh, nice. How long have you been together?”

“Nine years.” Wait… “Or four years, depending on which of us you ask. He blipped, I stayed.”

The cashier nods. “So are you older than him now?”

Physically? They’re not completely sure, but if you calculate the times he was off the ice with HYDRA and add that to the age he was before the serum, then they’re not far off. But chronologically- “No, he’s still older.” And yes, it will always be funny that Sam responds with “Okay, boomer” whenever Bucky makes an outdated reference (even if he’s off by a good twenty years).

With a little more light chatter, she pays for her items and leaves. Now, for home.

As soon as she opens the front door, she’s greeted by their dog, Sarge, barking excitedly and hopping around like he’s on a trampoline despite missing a leg. Bucky’s not far behind, placing a quick peck on her forehead before taking the bags from her and unloading them in the kitchen. Tonight’s his night to cook, but unless her nose has suddenly decided to give out, he hasn’t started dinner yet. She doesn’t mind taking over tonight, and when he sheepishly apologizes while she begins her preparations, she brushes it off. Although, for the second time in an hour, she’s seen proof of his unusual absentmindedness. Oh well. She’ll ask him about it later.

Despite being relieved from tonight’s chef duties, Bucky stays in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar scrolling through his phone as she cooks. His expression is neutral, which can mean one of two things; a) he’s just killing time and there aren’t any interesting posts or articles vying for his attention, or at the opposite end of the spectrum, b) he’s deep in thought, possibly angry, sad, or even frightened, but he’s gone into Winter Soldier mode and shut down so that she won’t pick up on his mood. Damn the man and his poker face.

Eventually dinner is served and she sends him off toward the fridge in search of two beers while she serves their plates. Just as she’s spooning a generous helping of salad into her bowl, it happens. A vision, but a limited one. All she’s seeing is a phone. Well, that and the hand holding it. She’s not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed that she immediately recognizes the hand as Bucky’s, but that goes by the wayside as she takes in the article he’s reading. “Should you do something for Valentine’s Day even is she says no?” It’s a thread on some anonymous discussion board. The reply that has his attention is in reference to a now divorced individual who “was dumb enough to believe that, on our first V-Day as a married couple, she didn’t want anything.” Oh boy. Not good. This will be their first Valentine’s Day since exchanging vows, and if the fact that he’s read this reply (if not already read, will read soon) means that it’s at least crossed his radar that she might be feeding him bullshit. That’s not the case, but after his research, she knows from experience that no matter how much she tries to convince him otherwise, a small part of his mind will be stuck on, “But what if this is a big deal?” Which means-

“Doll, are you just gonna stand there with the salad tongs in your hand?” That snaps her out of it.

“No. Just a vision.” He frowns as she passes him his plate.

“Anything important happen?” Should she say?

“No.” She’s not sure if the smile or not, so she takes a bite from her roll to cover it. “Random sneak peek.” It’s not a lie. What she saw really isn’t important. Still, if he’s in that mindset, she should probably go on and do something for him just in case. After all, why should it only be the ladies who reap this holiday’s benefits?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Not flowers. That’s the one thing that, after copious amounts of research Bucky is one hundred percent certain about. They may still be a common romantic gift, but since they were also a go-to back when he was courting girls in the 1940s, it’s safe to say they’ve been overdone. Plus, he doesn’t really want to remind her of that time she had such a severe allergic reaction to the flowers he picked her on a walk through the park in Bucharest that her eyes nearly swelled shut and she sneezed herself sick. That doesn’t exactly seem like prime romance.

Chocolates or other candies have the same issues as flowers. Contrived and predictable. A bottle of wine is nice, but neither of them can so much as get mildly tipsy thanks to the super serum. The fourteenth is his day to cook, so he guesses he could do some reading and try to create something a little more special than spaghetti (he thought about going to a nice restaurant for dinner, but there’s a few issues with that, not the least of which is they’re likely to be recognized without their disguises, and he’d rather not look at his wife through sunglasses on Valentine’s day), but that seems a little underwhelming.

As he loads the dishwasher (she fell asleep half-way through the third episode of whichever nonsensical comedy they’re watching this week, so he sneaked back downstairs to clean up the dinner dishes), he thinks back to the dozen separate articles he read on the subject of Valentine’s Day gifts. Jewelry was a common theme, but that’s out. She’ll say thank you to his face, but worry about the cost behind his back. Plus, he has absolutely no idea what she’d like, and there’s no sense in purchasing something only for her to hate it.

Another common one was lingerie. Bucky almost choked on his tongue when he saw some of the examples given with that option. None of it looked comfortable (in fact, he’s still scratching his head about how you even put on one of the pieces that popped up on the web page) and he doesn’t want to give her the impression that she has to dress up for him. Even putting all that aside, he has no idea what size she’d even wear. He likes to think that he knows his wife pretty well, but somehow, in all their years together, it never occurred to him to ask her for her clothing sizes. That, and have you even seen the bra sizing system? Does it make sense to anyone, because to Bucky, it’s all gibberish. 32 B? 36 DD? What the hell? Somehow, when HYDRA was training him to extract information, they failed to go over the translation of a woman’s bra size. He supposes he could ask, but he’s not sure there’s a non-suspicious way to work, “Hey, sweetheart. What size are your breasts?” into casual conversation.

Sam said to get creative, so he tried to think outside the box. What’s something she really needs? A new vacuum cleaner is the first thing to come to mind, but he’s not stupid enough to think that would make a good gift. He knows she’s had her eye on a set of throwing stars, but that doesn’t seem to correlate well with what this holiday is all about. That’ll keep until her birthday.

He’s still wracking his brain for anything at all that might work when he feels a wet nose poking at his hand. Sarge. “Hey, boy. Has your mom gone to bed?” The response is a quiet “woof” and lick to his palm. He scratches the mutt behind the ears, smiling to himself as Sarge’s back leg thumps at the treatment.

“What do you think we should get our girl? Huh?” There’s no reply (of course not, he’s talking to a dog), but he nods, pretending all the same that Sarge has offered up a suggestion. “A bone. Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’s her thing. Try again.” The dog blinks at him lazily. “No, you’re the one who wants new tennis balls. Not Mom. Although you’re right about her liking peanut butter.” At this rate, he might as well get her a bone and some tennis balls, because he’s sure not coming up with any ideas.

She likes music. The thought pops into his head while he’s brushing his teeth. All sorts of music. Over the years, he’s tried to make sense of the songs he’s heard her listen to, but has yet to find a discernible pattern in her listening habits. She doesn’t seem to stick to just one genre or era. More like she picks songs by how they relate to what she’s feeling at the moment. Wait a second-

“A mixtape.” His reflection mouths the words back at him. Despite technology having moved on from the days of burning CDs, she still has a thick stack of the disks stored in a cabinet and plays them on the regular. He’s even seen a few that she made herself, pasting together the songs she likes to make a “Cleaning mix”, “Workout Mix” and “Pissed off Mix”. Bucky’s sure he could figure out how to burn a CD, but it’s not like she’d be able to listen to that everywhere she went. That leaves a playlist. She uses one of those apps to listen to music on her phone, right? Surely he can put something together for her using that.

Quietly, he climbs into bed next to his sleeping wife and pulls her back against his chest, slinging one arm over her waist as usual. He closes his eyes, but his mind is alight with activity. A playlist. Of course. He’ll put some extra effort into whatever he cooks that night, stop by a bakery and pick up some sweet treats for dessert. Hell, maybe they’ll both dress up and act like they’re on a date. Then, once they’re sitting down to their meal, he’ll pull out his phone and hit play. It’s perfect. At least, he hopes it is.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Putting on a lacy bra and panties set underneath her regular work attire seemed like a brilliant idea this morning. Today’s a short day; she’s only got three classes to teach, and Rhodey called last night to tell Bucky that he’s suspending work hours at three pm “Since most people have holiday preparations to make.” Her plan was to be waiting on the sofa in the living room when he arrives home, professional button-down blouse open just enough for him to get a good look at what’s underneath, pencil skirt pushed up enough to reveal the stockings and garters she’s donned for the occasion. It’s fun, with just enough cheesiness to match this whole holiday. And, well, it’s a guarantee that by the end of the night they’ll be in bed together, both rumpled, sweaty, and satisfied. Perfect, right?

Wrong. On her drive to work, her skimpy underwear began to ride up, giving her a wedgie, and there was no way to adjust without running the risk of wrecking. She was so distracted by her discomfort that she missed her exit, and by the time she arrived at the college, she was running so behind that she didn’t get the chance to run to the bathroom and readjust. Her lecture on sentence diagrams was pure torture before the underwire from her bra decided to join in the fun and poke her directly in the ribs, but with that addition, she was especially impatient with her students’ tendency to joke around a little too much in class.

Luckily, she had just enough time to wrap the exposed metal bit in tissues before her next class, which eliminated the pain in her chest, but did nothing to alleviate the discomfort once her stockings began to slide down, having at some point disconnected themselves from the garters. She taught like that for the next two classes, but as soon as they were over, she pealed the whole ensemble off in the teacher’s restroom and changed into her gym clothes. Alright, screw the whole seduction routine. She needs to blow off some steam and fast, or else she’ll be in a bad mood all night.

That’s why, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in the training room of the Avengers compound, working over a punching bag. “Fuck-” Her fist connects, making the bag swing crazily from it’s hook. “-this- whole- day!” It goes sailing, and she feels a little better.

“Ouch!” The voice comes from behind her and she whirls around, gaze resting on-

“Sam.” The man in question holds up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture.

“Don’t shoot! I come in peace.” Rolling her eyes, she holds up her middle finger, receiving a snicker in acknowledgment.

“Just working off a little frustration before I head home.”

“Good.” Sam chuckles. “’cause otherwise, I’d be worried that when Barnes pulls out his dick tonight, you’ll bite it off.” She thinks about telling him that there’s no chance of that, but she might just cut off his if he crosses her. However, that jogs her memory.

“Has he left yet?” Sam nods.

“About an hour ago. Said he had to pick up groceries.” Shit. There goes her plan to shower, throw the damn lingerie back on and proceed as planned.

Bidding Sam a hasty reply, she makes tracks towards her car and, once inside, heads for home. Fine. New plan. She’ll shower once she arrives and then when the evening is drawing to a close, wait for him in bed. Nodding to herself, she puts the car in park and climbs out. Now, to psych herself up enough in the next few hours to put the damn lingerie back on.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Where did he go wrong? It takes all of Bucky’s self control not to spit out the spoonful of sauce he just tasted. This was supposed to be an easy recipe for Chicken Alfredo (or at least, that’s what the website boasted; he should’ve known better than to get his information from the internet and stuck to a good old-fashioned cookbook from the library). Not… whatever the hell this is. Maybe even if the sauce is nauseating, the chicken is okay?

He pulls open the oven door, and immediately smoke billows out, making his eyes water. Okay, chicken’s a little well-done. Who is he kidding? Black. The chicken is burned black. And the pasta… he lifts the pot lid and stirs, only to come to the realization that the pasta is completely stuck to the bottom of the pot. Wonderful.

It’s inevitable; over the years, he’s had his fair share of cooking disasters, but usually he does okay. Tonight though… who the hell up there did he piss off, because the only explanation for how badly this is going is his karma coming due.

Still holding the offending spoon, he looks over at Sarge, who’s staring at him, long pink tongue sticking out as he pants. “Trust me, boy. You don’t want any of this.” There has to be something else he can pull together on short notice. Normally he’d be worried that she’s running late without so much as a text, but today he’s relieved. At least if she’s running behind he’ll have time to… what? Maybe order takeout? Before she gets-

“I’m home.” Shit.

Sarge yips, shaking with excitement, and starts towards the kitchen door, then turns back, uncertain. “Go on. I know you’re dying to jump on her and lick her face.” Something they really should be training out of him because he’s getting too big for that sort of behaviour but, well… there’s a reason they call them “puppy dog eyes.”

Not needing to be coaxed, the dog takes off, tripping a little in the momentary lapse in his memory that he’s a tripod, but easily catches himself and goes on his merry way, leaving Bucky to clean up his mess. From the sound of things, a game of fetch is going on in the living room, so she should be distracted for a while.

He manages to pour the sauce down the drain and scrape most of the pasta into the trash while Sarge is acting as a decoy, but there’s absolutely no way he can dispose of the chicken without tipping her off (damn enhanced senses, it’s a wonder she hasn’t already smelled it). Finally, he decides to just go for it. She’s going to notice whether he throws it out now or two hours from now. Might as well get a head start on cleaning.

Sure enough, not ten seconds after he empties out the oven, he catches a movement in his peripheral vision, and the familiar sound of her breathing tips him off that he’s no longer alone.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Bucky. Did something burn in here, or-” He holds up the pan for her inspection before continuing his scraping.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah.” He slams the lid back on the trashcan and turns on the tap, intent on rinsing out the pan. “Another is whoever the god of culinary arts is has it in for me today.”

She chuckles. “You know, that would be funnier if we didn’t actually know a god.”

“Yeah, but he’s in control of thunder.” He meets her eyes, smirking slightly. “Although it did look like I electrocuted the bird.” Her lips quirk up into a smile, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her, cupping the back of her head gently to hold her in place when she tries to move away, muttering something about being sweaty.

He’s not entirely sure how it happened, but by the time they come up for air, her back his pressed against the wall and he’s got her pinned in place. Not that he’s complaining.

“Anyone ever tell you that the tip of your nose turns pink after you’ve been kissed?’ Her cheeks go rosey in response.

“I think so. One guy did. I told him it’s only when I’m kissed properly.”

He really would like to continue the playful banter, but there’s still the small matter of whatever it is they’re going to eat.

“What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”

“Apart from electrocuted chicken?” He responds with a swat to her ass, which earns him a snicker. “Let’s keep it simple. Pizza. Your choice of toppings.” Right, that’s easy enough. Plus, if they have to wait longer than thirty minutes, it’s free.

“Okay. I’ll order while you shower?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He’s just pulled up the menu on his phone when the sound of her clearing her throat attracts his attention. She’s standing in the doorway, combing through her freshly let down hair with her fingers, a playful look in her eyes.

“Or you could join me. Just a mild suggestion.”

Dinner can wait for a while.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Brooklyn townhouse they live in has many nice features. There’s a functional if small screened in back porch, big enough to hold a table for two and a grill. Two bedrooms, on the off chance someone from work needs to crash for a night or two. A kitchen with a dishwasher. A working fireplace. Good closet space. And an en suite bathroom.

Maybe it’s a little ridiculous to call a bathroom luxurious, especially when, in comparison to what’s featured in many brownstones, it’s more than modest, but she can’t help but think of it as such. There’s a double sink so that in the morning rush to get ready, Bucky’s able to shave and brush his teeth without having to wait for her to finish applying her makeup. Shelving above the toilet makes certain that even if the last person to shower took the towel with them, another one is on hand. Speaking of the shower, it’s not the largest one in the world, but both of them can fit in comfortably at the same time, which is what’s lead to their current situation.

She’s just finished allowing the water to course over her body, easing the sweat from her skin, and is about to begin the process of washing her hair, scrubbing her body, but she hesitates. She might as well ask. It’s only practical after all.

“Do you want to start now or get cleaned up and have dinner beforehand?” It’s obvious what she’s referring to, so she doesn’t bother to spell it out.

His brown knits, and if she didn’t know him as… intimately… as she does, she’d actually believe he’s confused.

“Oh, so you’re just assuming there’s gonna be sex involved at some point tonight?”

She shrugs, wringing out her hair.

“Seemed like a safe enough bet.” She glances pointedly between the two of them. “After all, we’re already undressed. “

His laugh is a quiet huff, barely discernible over the sound of the water. “Then I’d say start now, have dinner, then go for round two. Sound about right to you?”

She nods. “Solid plan.”

“Then get over here.”

Unlike the welcome home kiss they shared not half an hour ago, this one is less tender, more electric. Hands twist in hair, bodies press together. Tongues begging for entrance quickly give way to teeth nipping at bottom lips, an unspoken sparring match for who’ll be in control this time around. Ultimately he wins, grasping her hips and lifting as she wraps her legs securely around his back.

There’s no need for prep; the teasing of their earlier words is foreplay enough. Back pressed against the wall, her body easily welcomes him in as she braces one arm against the glass shower doors for balance. Any concerns about slipping and falling wash away as they move together like so many times before. She’s sure her nails will leave marks on his back, fingertips digging in for purchase and it’s a guarantee her hips will be littered with fingerprints from his grip, but she can’t find it in her to care, and if the desperate, bruising kiss assaulting her lips is anything to judge from, neither can he.

“So damn good, Doll.” It’s panted against her neck. “Always. So damn perfect for me.” All she can manage is a moan in response.

She feels him twitch inside of her and knows he’s close. So is she, but she can’t quite get there without-

As if he’s read her mind, he reaches between them to touch her where she needs it most, and on instinct, she readjusts, locking her arm around his neck to stay in place. “Let go, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” She couldn’t disobey if she wanted to.

“Fuck.” As her walls contract around him, he pulls out just in time to paint her middle with his release.

“That’s one word for it.” She’s still fighting to catch her breath, but she shoots him a shaky smirk, which he returns.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Barnes.” Snickering, she releases him to stand on unsteady legs and pecks his legs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Barnes.” Maybe there’s something to this holiday after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“You want the last slice?” Bucky considers it for a moment before deciding-

“Nah. You can have it.” It may not be exactly what he planned, but it’s been a good night. Between the two of them, they’ve gone through two large pizzas while watching the new version of Beauty and the Beast (she rolled her eyes when he asked if this was her way of saying he reminds her of a certain hairy, horned character) in their pajamas.

“No, really. You take it. I don’t want it.” She nudges the mostly-empty pizza box towards him. The noise makes Sarge lift his head from where he was snoozing beside her on the sofa. That gives him an idea.

“I don’t want it either, but I can think of someone who does.” He cocks his head towards the now-drooling dog. “How ‘bout it, boy? Wanna help us out?”

Snickering, she picks the pepperonis and pieces of sausage and ham from the pizza, forming a pile. “Here, Sarge. Catch.” She tosses a coveted treat in the air, and Sarge’s jaw snaps, swallowing it whole. “Good boy.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“You know, I actually did have something planned for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She nods.

“Absolutely. Had a whole seduction plan laid out. Tiny underwear, lacy bra, and stockings with garters included.” Huh. Guess she wouldn’t have taken the “lingerie” option the wrong way. He’ll file that away for future use… along with a mental note to ask her bra size. “That is, until I tried wearing the damn things for longer than an hour. Turns out, hiding a dirty secret under your clothes is more itchy than sexy.”

He can’t help it. He laughs, producing a pout from her which quickly turns into her own quiet laughter.

“Well, that fits in perfectly with my fancy dinner going up in smoke.”

“We really do have shitty luck with the whole “romance” thing.” She’s joking, but he decides to respond anyway.

“I don’t know about that.” Entwining his fingers with hers, he lifts their hands, twin wedding bands catching the light. “You waited five years for me to reappear after the blip, and I convinced you to elope with me. Seems pretty romantic.” Although, that reminds him…

“Don’t move.” Releasing her hand, he stands and goes in search of his phone.

“Bucky, what-”

“Don’t move, Doll. Stay right where you are.” Ah. On the kitchen counter, just where he left it. Jogging back into the room, he resumes his place on the couch next to her. Ignoring her questioning gaze, he pulls up the app and, selecting the correct playlist, hits play.

Immediate recognition blooms on her face at the opening lyrics. “She is the sweetest thing that I know. Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low.” He’s not one for modern music, but when he was googling “songs for Valentine’s Day” and this one popped up, he couldn’t help but think that the lyrics were fitting.

“I didn’t know you’d heard this one.”

He chuckles. “Even old men have a few tricks up their sleeves. That, and a wifi connection.” She rolls her eyes but leans closer, which he takes advantage of to show her the playlist.

“This is the app you use, right?” Receiving a nod, he continues. “Feel free to scroll through and add whatever you want. I haven’t listened to all of them the whole way through, but they seemed to fit the mood.”

Her hand closes over his, covering the phone. “Thank you, Bucky. It’s perfect.”

As the singer goes on about how hearts don’t break around here, he presses his lips against hers.

“I love you, Doll.”

“Love you.”

Not bad for a disastrous Valentine’s Day. Not bad at all.

[footballfanfictions]

The thrill of the chase - Chapter Two

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Authors Note: Sorry that this has taken a little longer than anticipated and thank you so much for all the love for the first part.

--------------------------------------------------------------

One of the main drawbacks of working with social media, is that you are always on social media and you’re constantly bombarded with information and images that make you feel downright crap about yourself.

I’d been asked to take over the instagram page of one of the high profile players at the club and his entire feed was just one supermodel and influencer after the other with the odd footballer thrown in to balance it out. They were all so stunning that it truly made me feel awful about myself, how could it not? My salary was pretty good for a new graduate but not quite good enough for weekly manicures, lip fillers and hair extensions and my time management wouldn’t stretch for that either, I barely made my eyebrow wax appointments.

I was trying to avoid looking at the player’s DMs while I posted a few pictures from the pre-season training sessions to his feed, but the notifications pinging every few minutes was getting quite annoying.

Has it been Brianna with access to his account and not me, she would have gone straight to his messages to read them. I preferred to live in blissful ignorance to the sleazy ways of the men around me. I already felt like finding a good guy was absolutely hopeless.

I had been renting a flat and I was saving for a deposit to buy a house, hoping that by the time I had saved up enough to buy that I would have found the right person to live with. If I were to attempt this alone, with London house prices I would be around  60 by the time I had saved enough alone.

The message notifications continued to come in and whoever Sam was, she was really keen.

I logged out after posting the final image and prayed I wouldn’t have to go into it again. The less I knew about their private lives, the better. It would be pretty awkward to be sat in the staff and players’ family box at a game knowing that the wife of someone I knew was cheating was close by. Best to steer clear of those complications.

Brianna hadn’t visited my office at all and by 12 I was both worried and hungry and decided to go looking for her.

I tried the kit room first but it was empty and surprisingly tidy. Dave kept a tight ship and liked everything to be in its place but it wasn’t often possible with the sheer volume of kits that needed to be looked after.

As I backed out of the kit room and closed the door, I felt something hit me in the back.

“Sorry” mumbled the voice from behind me. “I was looking for Dave, I need a new top.”

I knew who it was but I didn’t really want to turn around and look at him.

“They’re not in there, I was just looking for him and Brianna too.” I responded in an emotionless tone, shrugging.

“Why are you being so weird?” he asked.

I turned to face him then and gave him a look of contempt before I answered him. “Maybe I just don’t enjoy spending time around footballers?”

“No offence love, but I think you might be in the wrong job if that is the case.” he put his hand on the door, next to my head where I was practically pinned against the door by how close he was to me. Only then did I realise that the training top that he was wearing was ripped, front he shoulder to his navel, the material hanging and exposing his toned chest and abs. I tried to look away but he had caught me looking and was now smirking.

“Maybe it’s just you that puts me off.” I shrugged as I ducked under his arm, escaping from my position between him and the door.

“You really don’t like me?” He huffed. “I don’t remember doing anything to offend you personally.”

“Maybe I’m offended that privileged young lads get money, fame and praise just for kicking a ball around a muddy field. Try something more impressive, like curing cancer or performing life saving surgery, ending world hunger, ending wars.” I groaned in frustration. Maybe that was the truth of it. Why should he get all the praise and admiration that he got, just for playing a sport? There were so many incredible people in the world doing, or working towards the things in that list that never got half the praise that Mason Mount did for kicking a ball.

He looked a bit dumb struck.

I went in again, “Maybe I don’t like you assuming that I should be into you, just because you’re Mason Mount, England and Chelsea midfielder. Maybe that’s what the girls in the club that throw themselves at your feet are into, but it’s not for me.”

I made to leave and he grabbed my hand and mumbled, “Sorry, I’ll leave you alone from now on.”

I didn’t respond. Just pulled my hand from his and stormed off towards the boot room, leaving him outside of the kit room in his ripped shirt.

“Fuck it smells like feet in here.” I complained, walking into the boot room with my nose pinched between my fingers in disgust.

“When I said that I liked shoes to dad, this is not what I meant.” Brianna laughed.

“What are you doing in here, I didn’t think boots were part of your job?” I asked, perching on one of the benches while Bri sat on the floor, sorting through a massive pile of boots to try and match up the pairs. They were in all sorts of bright colours and differing sizes. If I had to guess, I’d guess that she had been at her task for hours.

“Dad and the boot guy had some sort of emergency” she shrugged.

I laughed at that, wondering what kind of emergency you could have that involved kits and boots. Maybe they hadn’t ordered the right brand or something and one of the stars wasn’t going to get his cash from his boot deal if they didn’t find him the right pair.

There was a little tap on the sliding glass door that lead out onto the pitches and stood there was the guy from the other day that had held the door to the cafeteria open for us. He looked a little sheepish.

“Are you going to let him in?” I asked Bri, trying to unbury her from the pile of boots by throwing some of them into a pile, all of the orange ones in one corner, the yellow in another pile and pink in another and so on.

“Oh yeah.” she said, standing and brushing herself off, and adjusting her skirt that rode up her thighs slightly. The guy had noticed and I watched as he tried to look away and then down at his feet. At first I hadn’t thought that his shyness was that genuine. Footballers were all confident cocky little shits in my book, I’d never met one that was shy and unsure of himself.

Bri unlocked the door and let him in.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but only one of these fits” he said, holding up a pair of lime green boots and giving Bri an apologetic smile.

“Oh shit” she said, taking the pair from him and inspecting them. “I’ve given you one 10 and one 9.5.” she looked through the pile of lime green boots until she said “aha!” triumphantly brandishing another size 10 boot. “Here you go my love.”

That as just Bri’s way, she called everyone little pet names all the time, but he didn’t know that and he was blushing profusely and I was almost certain that his hands were shaking as he laced the boots up.

“Thank you so much.” he mumbled, looking like he was about to die of embarrassment. He turned to walk back out of the sliding door, but hadn’t realised that Bri had shut it behind him, so he ended up walking straight into the glass, hitting it with enough force to emmit a cracking noise from his nose which was suddenly streaming with blood.

I jumped up from my seat and crossed the room to him, avoiding the piles of boots the best that I could, not wanting to add myself to the casualty list.

I had an unused tissue in my pocket, that I took out and pressed to his nose. It was instantly bright red and the blood poured straight through it.

“Bri can you go and warn the medical room that we need to bring him down?” I asked.

She nodded in agreement and rushed out of the room.

I put my arm around his waist and guided him back over to the benches. He sat down and I slipped my cardigan off. It was a very thin material and already a deep shade of red. I didn’t let him protest as I replaced the tissue with my cardigan. It was the best that we had, and he looked like he was in a lot of pain.

“I’ve never seen anyone get that flustered before.” i laughed, sitting down beside him. He managed to give me a pained grin.

‘It’s Bri isn’t it? Is she why you were waiting by the canteen door the other day?” I asked gently, patting him reassuringly on the back. “I wanted to send her out of the room so that I could ask you, and also to reassure you that you shouldn’t be embarrassed about this. I’ve seen Bri do a lot more embarrassing things. She’s always falling over and hurting herself. You would make quite the pair.” I laughed.

He shook his head and mumbled “I can’t ask her out”.

“Why the hell not?” i scoffed.

“She has a boyfriend doesn’t she?” he shrugged, looking really sombre.

“Ah no, not anymore. Things are definitely over between her and that prick, and between you and me, if she ever gets back together with him, I’ll give her a matching broken nose.” I bumped shoulders with his, trying to cheer him up, just as Bri came back into the room and told us that the medical room were waiting for him.

“Can you come with me?” he asked, not talking to Bri, but to me instead.

“Sure, I would do anything to get out of work this afternoon. Our twitter page today is just full of fans that are disappointed that we didn’t use the Hazard money to sign Messi.” I laughed, getting up and guiding him towards the door.

“Can we catch up later?” I asked Bri before leaving the room, she nodded and told me she would be free all evening.

As we walked down the corridor I said to him “See, no plans to see a boyfriend” and he blushed again.

One of the medical assistants rushed out to meet us and guided him into the room exclaiming “Billy, what the hell? How have you done that?”

He shrugged, clearly feeling embarrassed about how he had injured himself. So when they looked over at me for clarification, I shrugged too.

Billy wasn’t the only player needing the use of the treatment room. As he sat down on one of the chairs, I noticed that Ben was in there too.

The medic went about dabbing Billy’s nose and he cried out in pain.

“Sorry about your cardigan.” he said, looking down at the red material on his lap. He didn’t need it now that he was getting patched up.

“Honestly don’t worry about it Billy.” I grinned.

The medic then mumbled something about needing something and left the room.

That gave Billy a bit more confidence to talk about what had happened.

“And thank you for the advice about your friend.” Billy seemed a bit happier as he said that, and I could see Ben out of the corner of my eye looking over at us as Billy spoke.

“Please tell me you’re going to ask her out!” Ben laughed.

I turned to look at him and smiled. “You know?”

Ben nodded and looked at Billy with a horrified expression “Oh god, you asked her out and she punched you.”

I shook my head. “Not exactly.” I said.

“The boyfriend was here for some reason, and he punched you?’ Ben went on, standing up and coming over to Billy. He walked with a slight limp.

He stood in between us.

“Why are you in here if you don’t mind me asking?” I looked down at his leg while asking the question.

“It’s my hamstring, nothing too serious.” He smiled.

“Don’t laugh at me when I tell you how I did this.” Billy warned, pointing at his nose. “I walked into a sliding glass door that I thought was open, all because she gave me a pair of boots and called me love.” he groaned, covering his face in embarrassment.

Ben laughed and clapped Billy on the back with his hand. “Oh mate, no wonder you’re embarrassed.” he then addressed me, asking “Just how cringy was it?”

I shook my head before answering him, “I honestly don’t think it was that bad. Bri is pretty oblivious sometimes and I don’t actually think she realised the real reason for you hurting yourself. So if you were to pluck up the courage to speak to her, I wouldn’t even bring it up.”

_________________________________________________________

The next day, I was looking out at the training pitches while I waited for the coffee machine to finish making my drink when there was a gentle tap on my door.

I crossed the room and opened it, expecting it to Bri or maybe even the club photographer giving me some new pictures of the squad to use, but it was Ben.

“Hi, are you free?” he asked, giving me one of his sweet smiles.

“Yeah come in.” I said, stepping back into my office and letting him pass me so that I could hold the door open.

“That coffee smells nice”. He remarked.

“Do you want one? Or did I put you off the other day?” I smiled.

“Ah no thanks, and no you didn’t put me off. I’ve never really liked the stuff. I like the smell of coffee, it just doesn’t taste as good as it smells.” as he spoke I realised that he was holding something in a plastic bag.

He realised that I was looking at it. “It’s your cardigan. I washed it for you at home. Think I got all the blood out but it’s red so I can’t really tell.”

I was for once, speechless. It was a small gesture but it was really kind all the same. I thought about making a witty remark about it actually being his mother or an employed cleaner that washed it for him but I just couldn’t bring myself to.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. It’s only an old primark cardigan.” I said, taking the bag from him.

I suddenly felt a bit flustered in his company. He had that charming smile and didn’t really look like a cocky footballer to me. He didn’t act like one much either, he was just kind of like the guy next door, or the guy you would see on Tinder with a picture of him with his mates at the only photo on the profile so you couldn’t tell which one you were swiping for.

In all honesty, he kind of reminded me of my ex boyfriend Rory. He had the same sort of look, and they had similar accents. Maybe it was nostalgia that made me find being around Ben comforting.

‘I think your coffee is done.” he said, gesturing to the machine.

I nodded and walked over to the machine, taking the cup and adding some creamer and sugar. As I stirred the cup, he leant against my desk and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Something is bothering me if I’m honest.” he said.

“What is it?” I asked curiously.

“Mason said that you told him that you hate all footballers because we’re privileged and get too much clout for what we do.” He looked slightly disappointed in me. “Thing is, I don’t entirely disagree with you. Maybe we do get paid too much for what we do, and maybe doctors and nurses deserve way more praise than we do. I also don’t think that you hate all footballers. You were really kind to Blly yesterday and he won’t forget that in a hurry. You really helped him.” he continued.

“I don’t hate Billy, and I don’t think I hate you either.” I said quietly, taking a sip of my coffee.

“That is interesting.” he grinned, as he took one of my hands and guided me over to him, to stand in between his legs where he now sat on the edge of my desk.

Instinctively I put my coffee cup down and he put his arms around my waist.

“It’s interesting?-” he cut me off before I could say anything else, by pressing his lips against mine. The kiss is soft and gentle and lasts only a few seconds. He testing me and my brain is going in so many different directions. Am I actually going back on all of my principles and kissing a fucking footballer right now? And am I only doing it because he reminds me of my ex?

He moves to pull away, breaking the contact between our lips and I let out the tiniest whimper before putting my hand on the back of his head and pulling him back in for more. This time his tongue slips past my parted lips. My hand at the back of his head grips a generous handful of his hair and one of his hands makes its way to my bum.

My body feels like it is on fire. It has been a bloody long time since anyone kissed or touched me, and I hadn’t quite realised just how starved of affection I had been until I got a taste of it, a taste of him.

The telephone on my desk started to ring,and although I tried to ignore it, I just couldn’t. My job meant a lot to me and if it were Marina or someone of equal importance I would be chastised for missing the call.

We broke the kiss at the same time and I apologised to him. He grinned and fired back that I didn’t need to apologise and that he needed to get back to training, and by the time I picked up the phone, he was gone.

[partnersatfazbear]

More sketches! I actually have a lot to talk about with these lol First off, for anyone wondering about my back problems--those did finally clear up. I even fixed my sleep schedule, which only took a month. However, now my nightmares are coming back and that could mess up my sleep again... Sigh. I can’t win.

The first page is a series of completed, shaded illustrations I’m planning (based on the first 6 games and for each of the Fazbear Frights stories). I thumbnailed some ideas first. These could change, but I’m happy with most of them. I started on FNAF 1 already (see the second page where I added my current WIP of it). The only thing I love more than line art is composing a picture! I was suprised to hear that most artists (well, from what I’ve seen on YT) actually hate the line art phase. The coloring phase is actually the most boring for me. The tiny doodles are of Mike and Charlie. I really want to ship them, but I think because of my main ship I won’t. Although it would be an interesting thing to see them go through all this chick flick nonsense only to realize it never really mattered, but they could either turn out to be good friends or enemies... and I’m really intrigued by the concept. If I ever get back to my Sammy AU, maybe I’ll even have something for him to say about it =:V

The second page! I’ve gotten to a point where I can sort of draw Springtrap from memory, so that makes me happy. SMH I don’t know why he looks so annoyed in the large drawing... The other is a cute uh, is it still technically Willry at this point? Hentrap? SpringHen? lol SpringHen sounds hillarious. I may use that. Whatever, the drawing is sad, there’s no time for jokes!

The little square on page 2 are random doodles from own novel series, which at some point you’ll hear more about, but... This is the last story in the timeline, a science fiction universe where 80% of the cast are anthros. I may actually add a rabbit character now. Arzma is a bird girl, the heroine. Mark is an astronaut who has a connection to what I’m calling the furry-planet because I can’t remember the complicated names I gave everything. He’s the unofficial kid to a character from a previous drama story. He also makes a brief appearance in WispHer, my paranormal story... WHICH. (omg I’m rambling) Well, as a side story or maybe even one of the new focuses of WispHer, I’ve added my William OC. He’s the easter bunny suit you’ll see more of in upcoming pages and I’m proud of his design. I don’t know 100% what I’m doing with him yet. I’ve got like 4 pages of game ideas, but it may just end up being a super choicy VN, since I’m best at making those over any other kind of game.

For reference, my novel series spans about 12 or 13 books including spin offs, last time I checked... I really would like to get back to writing them...

As always, would love to hear any opinions / questions from you guys =:3 Feel free to send asks!

I may post some more sketches later, if I have time to doodle before my wife wakes up. lol

No sketches, but I did make some pixel art Henry and William [based on my designs]. DO NOT use these, as I may be using them for a personal project. Share, but only if you link back to this blog post:

PS

My brand new tablet has a defect pen / stylus (doesn’t hold the nibs anymore) and so I’ve ordered an expensive replacement. It should be here Monday, but expect a LOT of sketchbook drawings until I can get this situation fixed. Worried my next one will break just as easily... so I may have to find another pen altogether.