#most of these are just really bad or doodles but hey its about the practice

[justanother-fan]

Drawings from my hiatus 👍

There was alot so they're all under the break

(This will include me rambling about each)

Also, I'm aware it's a very short hiatus, I'm still sorta on hiatus, I'm just slowly working back into making art again

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If Peter was a DnD Bard:

(I want to redo this at some point with a different outfit and style)

This was part of a fantasy AU idea I had, which I might continue at some point

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The scene from chapter 14 where Peter hugged dick:

I have a colour based synesthesia so I wanted to try draw how my brain saw it with all the colours and stuff. It didn't turn out how I wanted so I made a second version.

I didn't enjoy this one either but it was more accurate to what I saw while reading

It was supposed to be more watercolour like, but I don't know how to draw that, and I wanted to try experiment with other stuff

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Some versions of flightless wings AU Tim while I was learning anatomy

I still need to practice rendering more, and facial features, but I liked the anatomy of it

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An attempt at figure skating AU tim:

I couldn't figure out how to draw the face, and I wasn't enjoying anything about it so I quickly gave it rushed lighting and gave up

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Random peter:

I liked the lighting on this one. I just gave up on it half way though, plus his face is so funky??

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Some references used:

[ishouldgetatumbler]

"I'm going to be somewhat less strict than many of your teachers here. I am purely invested in your education, which means trying to meet you halfway. So if you have to go to the bathroom, get a drink, stretch your legs, whatever, just get up and go. Just come back okay? Passing this class will be very easy as long as you are in class for most of it."

And that was all the eye contact Danny could stand before his hand started to doodle and his eyes made a break for the page. He wrote the date on instinct; then stared at it. He erased the day, then paused. He erased the month, then wrote the correct date.

"Now for grading, exams are not as big of a deal on my class. Exams are about five percent of your grade. In addition homework isn't really... feasible? So don't worry about that. What will make a big chunk of grade is classwork, which is mostly answering when called on, raising your hand, asking questions, and showing up. Really just showing up and showing me all your lovely beautiful faces should be enough in my book, but for the stiffs upstairs you know-"

The teacher stopped, like they were expecting the class to laugh. It was silent. Danny was just drawing lines. Long, zagging, looping trailing lines. The teacher recovered swiftly.

"Chatty bunch. Well I guess that's fair, its first day jitters and all, and I am making it sound like this class is breeze, so what's the catch right? Most of your grade is tied up in what we're supposed to call 'labs' but I prefer to call it 'live practice.' I don't want you to get too worried about results, it's alot more about 'mucking in' as they say. Just show me you're making an effort and improving because, hey, we're all learning right?"

Squiggling lines has lost its therapeutic effect. Danny moved on to drawing his instructor farting while being struck by lightning, exclaiming "YOWCH!" His personal explanation was that they stank so much god saw fit to punish them.

"I know this class gets a bad reputation, and heck the entire business, especially in America, for those of you from there, but all I'm looking for is participation. And hey, guys, eyes here? I'm gonna get up on my soapbox here."

Danny looked up from his half completed drawing of himself as a demon-cat hybrid. He made eye contact with the glaring intensity of the instructor.

"Torture is important okay? You may not use it in your day to day life, but it teaches you important ways of thinking, and 'enhanced interrogation' as we're supposed to call it DOES work, but it's not a science and its not shopping for yoga pants. You can't repeat the same test on a different subject and get the same results, and its not one size fits all."

That was all Danny could take before his lunch made a run for it and he curled over his desk and covered his mouth with a clammy hand. His swirling, sloshing lines made his nausea only worse. Somehow he'd forgotten Vlad picked the school. The teacher on his paper exclaimed "YOWCH!"

"Teacher?"

"Yes, Mr...?"

"Wayne-Al Ghul"

Shoes tak-tak'ed on the floor as the instructor stepped back to the desk at the front of the room, and scrawled a check on the attendance.

"Yes Damian?" They asked finally.

"May I be excused on the basis of experience? I feel this introductory course has nothing to teach me." Damian said promptly and matter-of-factually.

The teacher sharply exhaled in amusement, then said "Well, like I said before, I believe we're all learning. Every year I teach this class I learn something new. Heck I have learned more teaching than I ever did in the business. Really, it's about approach. Everyone can learn something from someone else's approach, and even if it isn't mine or one of the ones I teach you, I am certain you can learn something from your classmates."

Danny was finally starting to figure out why he was so damn nauseous. The words were disgusting of course, but hearing yourself talked about like veal to be dissected and portioned guilt up an immunity to that. No, this was something more.

Ghosts are more like an ecosystem than a living thing. When you die, all your thoughts get split up up into a million different mini ghosts. When someone has all of their thoughts and emotions tied into one thing, they stay somewhat as they were after death, but most people break up. Those break ups leave some small amount of stragglers, who can't or haven't yet made it to the ghost zone.

The room was covered in little ghosts. Caked in them, floor to ceiling like the whole room is painted in a thin, semi-transparent sheen of death. He hadn't even noticed. He just assumed the paint was discolored.

"Ah, yes, you have a question Mr...?"

"Fowl."

"Ah, Artemis, I see you on my attendance sheet. Isn't that-"

"A girls name, yes. Why are we being taught to torture?" The small pale boy asked.

Internally, the nausea abated slightly: finally someone was asking sane questions. His rendition of himself as a demon cat smiled at him from the page.

"It's like having a lesson on how to smash a computer screen. Or a demonstration on how to burn fine art. Why use such wasteful destruction when a fine eye for detail will suss the computer's password, or the painting's secret?"

The teacher sighed before replying "because sometimes art is dangerous, and sometime you need to smash a computer. Assuming you already have all the tools to solve every problem in your future will do you no good."

Artemis snorted but did not offer a reply.

"Right. Do we have any questions that are not 'why do I have to take this stupid class?'"

The room was silent and coated in thin, viscous death.

"Great, I'm going to be passing out your packets, these will contain some practice quizzes and any of the reading for this semester. You'll get another packet in the winter and spring."

The teacher laid a thick stack of stapled papers on Danny's desk, then paused. Danny looked up in terror into their slightly excited face, as the hand on his desk pushed the packet out of the way and pulled out Danny's paper.

They nodded appropriately at the contents of the paper, then held it up for the class.

"See this?" they said, pointing to the drawing of themself being hit by lightning and flatulence, "even something like this indicates to me that you are invested, that you're paying attention and that you're thinking about what I'm saying."

"Is that a demon cat?" someone blurted out.

And that was all it took, the bottom fell out of Danny's stomach and he hurled.

[plutoons]

Can you do a tutorial on how your art process is done I’m about to quit on Art everything I make fucking sucks .

hey anon !! My art process is almost non existent cause i haven’t been able to stick to One definitive way and i don’t want to cause i think its limiting. I still have a long way to go for improving my skills and learning new things and figuring out different styles !!

Heres a quickk drawing showing what my “main” process is

This is something i generally have stuck to for most of my posted drawings (i can post things specific to some drawings on a separate reblog ^^ im just to lazy to get pictures of em for examples rn)

Doodle !! I cant visualize shit, and usually have a very vague idea of what id like to draw Or just nothing at all. So I doodle messily with expressive gestures till��� i find something that sticks

choose one final concept/sketch and clean it up a lil so i have a way better idea of what im getting myself into

Base colors cause i hate doing lineart. So i just go straight into colors casue its fun and i like fun!! Right on top or on a diff layer it doesnt matter. I color pick with my eyes and put base colors or anything i think it would be cool. No pressure and it can messy cause I’ll clean it up and figure shit out later

fuck around and find out (rendering ig)—> i cant explain it super well or definitively. I just layer and throw colors on top till im satisfied or Done with it. I flip my canvas a bunch or check my values to make sure the results come out to look more coherent regardless of the mess of color

Im just a simple person and cant handle something that requires too many steps or things that havta be done Just right so this works for me atm. This may not be your jam but finding a process in that works for you through trial an error is just a part of art. Do what works for you!! I think experimenting is so important even if it sucks in the end

(more Words / “advice ?” under cut)

I have so many shitty drawings and sketches and even colored things that outweigh the tiny bits of art i decide to show off

I totally get that creating art can get really discouraging at times; not getting the results you want when you want them no matter how much effort you put in just sucks, but it won’t always be that way :] even if it takes you 10 years to find your groove and see improvement or 2 years, it’ll happen. I find that i’ve only improved when i actively didn’t give a fuck about how my art looks and only cared that i was having fun through it all, and thats hard cause perfectionism is a bitch and its hard to get rid of. You could improve with studies and daily practice for sure but moving towards improvement can be as fun and light n breezy as you want to make it, like taking a break to explore different hobbies or changing up mediums or fucking around and experimenting with it can help !!! Allow ur art to be bad; cause fuck it, at least you made something and thats really really cool. Once you cut urself some slack it’ll be easier to improve upon your skillset and slowly but surely get to where you want

Sorry im a bit tired idk if this is coherent so heres a more direct thing i’d like to say:

Maybe ur art isn’t where you want it to be rn and ik it can kill ur motivation to keep going at it (i’ve experienced this feeling a lot and im sure so have many others). But you gotta ease up on urself and stop worrying about results so you can allow yourself to experiment and have fun!! And its hard getting into that mindset but you gotta keep trying and you’ll find it getting easier

[flutteringfable]

doodles of miwa except i REALLY wanted to draw them on the brink of tears and crying. also kitty jammies

i want them to be like. the type of person that wants to consistently look like theyre fine so as not to concern other people. so when they do cry, they tend to blame it on exhaustion or overworking so people don't get too worried. even in situations where it would be totally normal to cry, miwa has put up so many walls that it's just instinct to try to hide it regardless.

when theyre on the brink of tears, they try to smile more to stave them off. it rarely works but its become such a habit they do it regardless. theyre pretty okay at holding back their tears and hiding their true emotions, but under extreme pressure (like, say. a killing game.) it becomes more difficult.

oc x canon ramblings because this train of thought accidentally got really out of hand:

i think that kokichi can always clock when miwa's smiles are fake, no matter how convinced everyone else is. he's a liar himself, after all, and knows how to read all the signs. it comes as no surprise to him; no one would be able to remain that unshakably positive during something as terrifying as a killing game. earlier on in the game, he finds himself... worried, for whatever reason. seeing miwa strain to keep up their warm and brave personality is straining in and of itself.

after the first trial, miwa is the first to leave. they don't want anyone to see them crying, even if several others are, too. kokichi is the only one to notice their haste. when miwa hurries through the dining hall the next morning to get breakfast, they take it outside instead of eating with everyone else. kokichi follows (not without suspicion from the others, of course).

he finds them in the courtyard, and miwa doesn't notice him until he's close enough to hear them sniffling. they startle once they realize he's there, and try to quickly wipe their face. miwa knows they're caught, though.

they worry, at first. they've been around kokichi for long enough to be suspicious of his intentions. however, kokichi just sits next to them.

"bottling stuff up for so long is bad for you, y'know."

"...huh?"

"it's perfectly reasonable to cry in a situation like this. i don't think anyone here would think you're weird for it."

miwa gives kokichi the most intense side eye he's ever seen.

"woah, hey, no need for the look. you've seen how much i cry; i might be a liar but i'm no hypocrite."

okay, well, maybe that was a lie, too. kokichi never claimed to be good at genuine reassuring words. miwa seems to pick up on this, but doesn't make a comment. instead, they sigh.

"i just... don't like people seeing me cry. i feel like it makes things awkward, or brings them down, too. it's kinda stupid reasoning, i know."

kokichi catches himself before he reflexively replies with a snarky remark. god dammit, he's really out of practice with this whole comforting thing. he decides to pat miwa's shoulder instead.

"it's not stupid. i can see where you're coming from. still, i promise it's okay to let yourself cry around other people. i think just about everyone here would understand."

"and how do i know all of this isn't some elaborate lie to make me embarrass myself?"

kokichi smiles. it's very brief, but the intention is genuine.

"you're just gonna have to trust me."

[merskrat]

Hi! I think I’ve been hexed or cursed. I’ve been thinking about some people constantly who harassed me, and accused me of doing inappropriate things,and I’m just feeling crappy because of it. Idk what to do. im thinking about the incident constantly, I’m anxious,I feel guilt whenever I think of it, and it just makes me feel depressed and sad. overall I’d just say I feel crappy.

can you help?

Hey! The most important thing to do in my opinion is to physically clean your space. Sweep with the windows and doors open, dust everything, get rid of clutter, deep clean your bathroom, etc, because that is where this bad energy hides. Next do a smoke cleanse with rosemary, lavender, garden sage, whatever you have around. Work your way through every room, moving the herbs and smoke clockwise. Mix up the ash from the herbs into some salt and sprinkle it in front of your door. If you want to, you can charm a piece of jewelry or even the shoes you wear the most for protection. You can write their names down on a piece of paper, stick it in a jar of water, and freeze it to stop them from causing you any more harm. You got this! Take your power back from these people! Burn a black candle for protection and send their bad energy right back at them.

As far as the depression and anxiety, when I feel that way I throw myself into creative projects. You can integrate magic into these things too. Make a witch’s bell or a wreath for your door for protection. Create sigils and draw them on the bottom of your shoes. Make a bottle charm to wear around your neck or to carry in your pocket full of herbs that can protect you. Dill, garden sage, lavender, rosemary, basil, whatever you have on hand. Do some journaling—however you want to do it, even if you’re just doodling. I used to draw mandalas because the repetitive patterns really calmed me down and it was almost like meditation, which I’ve never been good at as someone with ADHD.

Ultimately it doesn’t matter what these people think about you, it matters what you think about you. Practice some self care, offer yourself some grace, and recognize the work you’re doing to better yourself.

If you want to, you could always hex them back. I’m not sure if you incorporate hexing into your practice, but a hex jar is pretty easy to make. If you have anything they’ve touched you can use that, or a picture of them, or just their names written on paper. Fill it with vile things. Vinegar, piss, coffin nails, red pepper flakes, menstrual blood. If you have space to bury it somewhere do that, if not keep it in your freezer or a dark corner. Never open it, and if you feel that it’s done its job, throw it in the trash and let the universe handle it.

I wish you healing and peace. You got this! Now go clean your house! It will help you feel better mentally and magically.

[jay-avian]

The Sink Theory

So I went to my therapist yesterday to talk about my anxiety and overstimulation and I think she explained it perfectly.

You are the sink and any anxiety is the water. Normally, when the water is turned on, it sits in the sink for a short while before passing through. When you're in an overstimulating environment (or any place that makes you feel nervous), the water is always on. But since there's never a lot in one period of time, it's manageable.

Whenever your fight/flight response is triggered, the little stopper in your sink is down and all of a sudden, it's like someone dumped a whole cup full of water (or more, depending on the circumstance). Your senses are heightened, meaning everything else is significantly worse. Even though you could handle it before, all that extra water takes its toll.

The stopper can even be down before entering the environment because you are anticipating being anxious, and are therefore already anxious. (I have this problem often, I'm learning to be better)

Here are some things that will help you get back to a stable level:

Stopping the water

Leave the environment - Seems self explanatory. But people often have a hard time excusing themselves from situations, usually because they don't want to be rude or they're frozen in place from fear. Or they stay, thinking they can handle a little longer, so they wait til the worst possible moment. Don't do this! When you feel it getting rough, leave, and let the anxiety drain before going back.

Block out stimulation - If, for whatever reason, you can't leave, get some earplugs or headphones and try to block out as much as you can. It may seem counterproductive to play music or white noise, but it's much better to have one sound to focus on rather than a hundred. (Especially a sound you find calming and that you can control)

Raising the stopper

Manage your thoughts - This is probably the hardest part, but it's the most beneficial. You have to essentially talk to yourself here. Remind yourself that hey, everything's okay. More often than not, fear and anxiety is irrational. Sometimes there's a trigger behind it which you may need healing from, sometimes you just get overstimulated easily. Just take this time to comfort yourself as you would comfort a friend or a child. You need to take every thought captive. "This feeling will pass." "There's nothing to be afraid of." "I am safe." "I will be okay." "I am okay."

Focus on your breathing - We didn't discuss this one, but I find it very helpful. One way to help ground yourself is to not only take deep breaths, but to focus on them. Feel your body move, in and out, in and out. There are plenty of breathing exercises that you can look up that will help. (There are a few that I use on this self care app called Finch. I love that thing so much!)

Grounding in general - Some of you may know some grounding tips already. But in case you don't, here are a few that I like: making lists (of what you see, things you like, movies you want to watch, flavors of tea, anything), focus on something physical (yourself, a fidget you have, the floor), doodle or practice calligraphy (focus on the movement), have someone close to you on the phone (hearing their voice or seeing their face may help)

Draining the water faster

The anxiety will leave over time as long as you're in a calm environment. But here are some things we talked about that may help even more.

Drinking water - When your senses are heightened, your body has a lot of adrenaline and cortisol. Drinking water helps to flush out those chemicals faster. Not to mention, if it got really bad, you were probably crying or hyperventilating. You're probably dehydrated after all that.

Walking/Exercise - Exercise in general produces endorphins, chemicals in your brain that make you feel good. It also uses up the energy your body would've normally used to be stressed. It can be as simple as taking a walk around wherever you are, stretching, or doing a few light exercises.

Avoid sugar/caffeine - Although many comfort foods/drinks have these things, it will make your anxiety worse. It gives you more energy to worry with and can increase the adrenaline already in your body. Some teas have little to no caffeine and have been known to decrease stress (their smells can also be calming).

It's a long post, but I hope it helps!

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Desires and Daydreams

Me: oh yeah I’ll have this edited and out by tomorrow morning! Also Me: Ha! Sike! Time fo post at night again :)

All in all I’m so sorry this took so long for me to get out. A busy week with ball fucked me over time and energy wise. However, I now have a full 7k word fic for y’all so that’s good! I quite literally just finished editing this so I hope it’s as good as my mind told me it was about two minutes ago. Especially considering it’s a little gift of sorts for the amazing @doodlevore (AKA I saw this gem of a drawing, flipped out for a hot minute, and then decided it was writing time) Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy and I hope I did your artwork justice Doodle :)

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Aw c’mon Doc!” the man halfheartedly whined as he attempted again to grab the small ‘medic’. Once more 2b had ducked under his hand, glaring up at him through his goggles. The taller of the two just laughed at the sight, near daggers of teeth glimmering through his toothy grin. No way in hell could he take that glare seriously like this. “You act like I was planning to hurt you. You really think I’m gonna hurt ya?”

“No,” 2b started, halting his words momentarily to dodge another attempted swipe at him. Getting caught by the man wouldn’t be the worst thing, sure - hell, he could name several things automatically worse than being grabbed by him in this hellscape of Nevada - however that did not mean that he wanted to be scooped up like some doll and put through whatever his teammate had in mind for him and the other two who were both currently busy dodging the taller’s other hand. Again his glare settled on the younger hacker. “But that does not mean I’m going to keel over and let you do whatever, Deimos. Now would you stop trying to grab us for five minutes!”

“But what’s the fun in that?” Deimos protested, swiping at Hank only for the shrunken mercenary to vault themself over his hand. Go figure, he was still going to be difficult. Hell, they all were. When he was the smallest of the group he was at their mercy and even went with it half the time, but the moment he got to have some fun they all decided to be as difficult as possible. In all honesty it wasn’t as bad as he was making it seem. Watching them run around like little mice was pretty entertaining. That didn’t mean he didn’t have plans he wanted to follow through with though! Whatever, he’d play their games for now. He’d get them eventually, and when he did he’d have his fun. “I’d stop if you all would just stand still for five seconds, but no. You all clearly wanna play so I’m gonna keep up the cat and mouse game we’ve got going.”

“But that- Deimos, you aren’t getting my point here at all!” 2b yelled up at the man, ducking under yet another swipe at him made by the youngest of their little crew. He was fairly certain it was impossible to miss what he was saying so either Deimos was less intelligent then he had grown to suspect over the years or he was flat out ignoring the man’s request to quit trying to grab them. A brief comparison of the two had crossed out the former option rather quickly. That cocky, smoking son of a gun. “Sanford! A little help?”

“Why me?” The Chad of a man yelled back as he scrambled to his feet after having to get down to avoid being grabbed. In the back of his mind he already had a sneaking suspicion as to why he was asked. He wasn’t stupid after all.

“He usually listens to you better than me!” The older hacker shot back, nearly running into Hank as he prepared himself for the next ‘attack’.

“So we’re playing that card now. Good to know.” Sanford grumbled softly, no real venom in his tone. 2b was right, at least in most contexts. He probably was the closest to Deimos out of them all and the other two’s usual intimidating approach to get Deimos to listen really wouldn’t work with them the size of the man’s hand. A sigh tugged itself from his throat as he directed his words up at the seemingly giant hacker. “Dei, c’mon now. Can’t you quit with the whole trying to grab us thing? It’s- AH!- not all that fun!”

“Damnit.” Deimos cursed under his breath, having missed Sanford yet again. Who knew trying to just grab his teammates would be so difficult. It was definitely fun, this little game of cat and mouse like in those old cartoons he’d managed to pirate, but it was still harder than he expected to actually grab them. Guess not everything gets to come easy. Or maybe he was going too easy… “Maybe not for you. Just stand still and make it easier on yourself if you’re having such a bad time.”

“That’s- Dei, you chucklehead, quit the games already and stop trying to grab us like rodents!”

Deimos just shook his head, a low laugh rumbling in his chest. His grin still stood proud on his face in all its sharp toothed glory. This was too much fun to give up so easily. Really, they expected him to quit the moment he started having fun? Please. He’d gone through too much to waste his opportunity. Getting his hands on shrinking tech had to be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, despite the difficulties and hurdles he had to jump to do such a thing. What had been a normal, boring day with no missions had turned into him watching his three shrunken teammates dash across the worn table while dodging his attempts to grab them. He was going to enjoy this, whether they liked it or not. Call this revenge for all the times he was teased for being the smallest out of all of them, or call it him being an ass. He didn’t care. For once the younger hacker wasn’t the small one in the group and boy did he have plans for it. Oh he had plans…

“Mmm…how ‘bout no.” Deimos hummed, slamming a hand down on the table next to 2b. Just as he’d hoped the man tensed, trying to keep himself steady on the shaking table. His eyes locked onto the temporarily paralyzed unofficial medic like a hawk’s to its prey, smirk morphing into a full on grin. Without hesitation he grabbed the man in a firm fist. There was one of the three. “Ha! Gotcha Doc~!”

“Mmgh- I can see that, Deimos. Now put me down!” 2BDamned didn’t shout at his teammates often. There were a few times he did, yes. Prime examples of such times included (but weren’t limited to) tracking blood all over the base, doing something absolutely reckless and facing the consequences, not following the plans they had for missions, etc. Not once had he expected to ever be yelling at one of them, specifically the smallest of their team, to put him down. Hank? Maybe. Sanford? Long shot but not impossible. Deimos? No. And yet here he was, trapped within the grasp of the younger hacker with seemingly no way to escape. It’s not like the little wiggling that his loose enough to be breathable yet tight confines could do was helping much.

“But what if I don’t wanna, Doc?” Deimos hummed, resting his other hand on the table for the first time in the past twenty-five minutes that he’d been trying to grab the others. “What if I wanna keep you trapped in my fist for the rest of the day huh? Maybe longer. It’s not like you can exactly free yourself, now can you? Huh? You gonna wiggle yourself out of my hand, 2b? Claw your way out like some baby kitten?”

“I swear to Jebus, once we’re back to normal I am going to kill you myself.” The dissenter growled, trying again to free himself from his confines. He could only imagine how utterly idiotic he looked, wiggling around like some fish out of water in Deimos’s hand. Talk about humiliating.

“Sure you will. Sure.” Deimos rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he thought through his next moves. He could just grab the other two and get on with his plans but…oh that ruined the fun of the chase! His plans and stomach could wait, he wanted to enjoy this just a little longer. Now what could he do to achieve such a thing? “And besides, that’s an ‘if’ to you, Doc. If you get back to normal. Can’t do that without my help after all, so maybe you should let me have my fun~”

“I will. Don’t think I- wait. What?” Well now that wasn’t something anyone stuck at four inches tall wanted to hear. Yes, he could probably figure out how the hell Deimos shrunk him (assuming that the hacker had gotten the information and technology from the AAHW) however Deimos had at least a bit of a point. Things would be so much easier, faster, and less dangerous if he just reversed whatever the hell he did. He….he fucking planned this. He- oh the younger hacker was in some deep shit once they were back and he was the smallest again.

“Mmm you heard me, 2b. Getting you three back requires the help of me, unless you’d rather be crushed under the boot of some agent trying to get back to normal yourselves.” Deimos hummed, his words practically swimming in cockiness. “And I don’t think any of us want that. So either you let me have my fun, or you three get to stay pocket sized until you do.”

“Deimos, don’t you even think about it.” Hank growled, eyes narrowing behind his goggles as he stepped closer to the hacker. Being this small was bad enough. It wasn’t like a MAG agent where they weren’t completely dwarfed in size. No. He was stuck the size of a fucking mouse being toyed with by their basically gigantic teammate. And to top it all off the threat of being stuck at this size now loomed over the mercenary’s head. Just fucking wonderful.

“Aw but what if I did, Hank?” The hacker asked with a raise of his eyebrow, turning his attention from the medic in his fist to the shrunken killing machine that was now glaring at him over his arm. It really was something else to see them so tiny when they usually towered over everyone. How the tables turn. “I would think this is a nice situation for you. So long as you’re hidden it’s not like the Agency could find you now. No ones gonna look for a four inch tall Hank, now are they- Hey! Sanford!”

The mentioned man’s head lifted from where he had landed on the table, 2b now laying next to him after a less than graceful ‘rescue’ from the younger hacker’s hand. His feet scrambled against the old table, attempting to gain enough traction to allow for him to stand. For a moment he looked as if he were trying to stand on ice, feet slipping out from beneath him. The doctor beside him wasn’t doing much better in the department of getting to his feet. Judging by the disappointed stare he felt burning two holes into his chest once he finally got to his feet, Hank wasn’t all that impressed with their sudden lack of coordination either. Wait, no. Hank could come later. Right now he had to deal with the giant Deimos that was currently pouting at him.

“Sorry Dei, but I’m siding with Doc here. Just put us back to normal before Hank decides to find a way to kill you at this size.” As Sanford spoke a tone far less confident then he had hoped for laced his words. Something that probably doomed him to not be listened to. Judging by the new level of cocky smeared across the hacker’s face? He was right too. Well shit. That didn’t help anything.

“Hmm…maybe but, and hear me out, I’ve got a better idea.” No one had to ask exactly what Deimos’ ‘better idea’ was. He was all too happy to demonstrate it, Hank quickly finding himself laying flat against the table with the hacker’s hand pinning him in place. The small shocked grunt from the mercenary didn’t go unnoticed by the other two, their eyes darting to their now trapped teammate. Both failed to notice the brief warning look in Hank’s eyes behind his goggles until it was too late, a warm calloused hand pinning them to the rough grain of the wood. Well, there went the idea of escape.

A sharp laugh chased away the silence that had previously filled the air. Beneath the rim of his visor two eyes simply watched as the three small forms writhed beneath his hands. Proof of the point he had been trying to prove. The point that his three shrunken teammates had wanted to be false. No way to escape now. Not unless he allowed for it, that is. A small lightbulb lit up in his head at the thought. The idea was tempting, were he to be completely honest with himself. Give his friends hope only to crush it like a spent cig under his boot once more by trapping them in a new way. Oh but then there was the option of dangling freedom just in front of them. That was an idea…and there were so many more possibilities too. In the back of his head a small voice attempted to grab Deimos’ attention. Yelling at him in every way it could think of that even thinking about doing that to his friends was wrong, even if it was playful at its roots. He shouldn’t do such a thing to them! Though, thinking logically, there was no way they wouldn’t do the same or something similar were their positions switched. Deimos knew that much, being the shortest of their gang. A soft scoff sounded from his throat, mind made up on the matter. Unfortunately for the three pinned to the table, in the end the voice of reason was all too easily ignored by the younger hacker as he adjusted to lean forward in his chair. The smell of cigarette smoke grew in strength with each hum that passed the man’s lips, the three pinned beneath his hands only able to watch as things seemed to get worse for them.

“Heh. Much better.” Deimos said with a smile, gladly ignoring the glares he was now getting from his little friends. “Now what shall I do with you-“

Ggnnnrrrr……

“-three….”

Anyone with half a mind would think that after being interrupted by your stomach you would be embarrassed and most likely apologize. The three shrunken men on the table thought that after being interrupted by his stomach Deimos would be embarrassed and probably laugh it off. Maybe even give them a chance to run without thinking. What they didn’t expect was for him to start laughing. A deep chuckle from the back of his throat too, not just an embarrassed little giggle. It was a genuine fucking laugh. First off, why the hell was he laughing? Second, what the hell did that mean for them? After a moment of thought one thing became clear. As much as they didn’t want to admit it, the three knew what the answer to the second question was long before it was even asked. Nothing good. That’s what it meant. Especially not with that dumb grin still sitting on his face. 2b, eyes locked on Deimos’ expression, had opened his mouth to attempt prying an answer out of the younger. Before a single word could leave his lips, however, his world was flipped on its head.

Literally.

For a brief second everything stopped. The warmth and pressure from the hand holding him to the table disappeared, cold washing over him and sending a shiver down his spine. That’s when a new type of pressure appeared. It was still rough and warm, the grip of a calloused hand for sure, but it was much more concentrated than just smashing him to the table. Specifically around his right ankle. His eyes couldn’t go ‘dinner plate wide’ any faster than they did the moment he felt said pressure appear. The less-than-manly scream he had heard beside him roughly half a second earlier started to make a lot more sense by the millisecond. Especially once he was dragged backwards and up, a very similar noise escaping himself. For a brief moment everything spun before his sight leveled out. What he didn’t want to see was Deimos grinning at him. Upside down.

“Annnd there we go. Sanford, Hank, I hope you guys still have a good grip at this size~.” The hacker jabbed, grinning at the little chain his friends had formed once he started picking them up. Pinched between his thumb, pointer, and middle finger was Hank’s torso. They were currently holding onto Sanford’s ankle, looking less than pleased with the situation they were in. Sanford was gripping onto the ankle of 2BDamned as he dangled, worry painting over his features. Then there was 2b, dangling at the end of the chain upside down with a look quite similar to Hank’s plastered on his face. All in all, quite the interesting little chain they made up as he leaned back in the chair.

“Damn straight. You two drop me and you’re dead.” The ‘medic’ grumbled, all too willing to make his displeasure known.

“Aw, don’t you worry, Doc. If they drop you I’ll make sure you have a nice, soft, warm landing~”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t want to be dropped on my hea- Deimos, what the genuine fuck does that mean?” He shouldn’t have asked. The moment after the words left his mouth 2b knew he never should have asked what the younger hacker had meant with his words. Dangling over the man’s lap having to stare him in the face while upside down wasn’t ideal. Absolutely not. However, he found much preferred it to dangling inches above Deimos’ open jaws, the smell of cigarette smoke laced breath hitting him almost as hard as the realization of just how sharp the man’s teeth were. He supposed he never noticed with Dei a. rarely ever purposely showing them off, and b. him being smaller than the older hacker. That didn’t stop him from mentally smacking himself upside the head for not taking more notes of it sooner though. Especially when he was getting so…up close and personal with them now. Fuck he was close to those daggers.

“Dei- Dei, think about this!” Sanford shouted as he stared down at the sight of the man’s open mouth, praying that his friend would listen to at least some reason. Sure, they gave him shit for being the smallest of the group often. He especially did. Not once though had he, or the other two as far as he knew, expected that said teasing would lead to them possibly having to spend the day trapped in said hacker’s gut though. If they had, they would have backed off a little. But now the threat was more present than ever. And knowing Deimos? It might be longer than a day too. He wouldn’t put it past the man at all. Jebus Christ….

“Oh I have San. We’re past that point now.” Deimos hummed, his tongue lazily snaking itself over his lips as he glanced over the string of teammates that dangled from his hand. Slowly his stare became distant, his mind beginning to wander. Just how would each of them taste exactly? Would they all taste the same? But what if they each tasted different? Now wouldn’t that be something. Perhaps he wasn’t too far off picturing Sanford as a juicy sausage in his little moments to himself. Oh that would be perfect. The warm feeling of drool trailed itself lazily down his chin, each thought regarding the possible tastes of his friends encouraging an empty rumble from his midsection. He just had to find out now.

“Deimos, lower me any further and I’ll make sure you choke to death.” The man only laughed, eyes fluttering shut as he opened his mouth once more.

“Sorry Doc. ‘S too late to stop now.” Any screams of protest from his teammates fell on deaf ears as Deimos lowered the end of the little chain into his mouth. Immediately he was hit with the taste of black coffee, hints of iron, and oddly enough what tasted like whisky poking through and tickling his tongue. The soft, pleased hum escaped him long before he could even think to stop it, his mind far more focused on getting that flavor to coat his tastebuds than his actions or the saliva steadily dripping down his chin.

2BDamned had a different opinion on the matter. Specifically about the claim that it was ‘too late.’ It was not too fucking late. In fact, it was anything but. Deimos’s mouth, which absolutely reeked of cigarettes might he add, was still wide open. He wasn’t slipping down the tight tube he could see in front of him yet. He was being rolled around and licked over like some sort of candy, something which he apparently had to remind Deimos he wasn’t with a smack to the tongue. Sharp teeth surrounded the unofficial doctor on both sides, Sanford’s grip on his ankle still like iron despite the saliva now thoroughly coating his body. Try as he might to push himself out with his hands they only slipped and slid across the wet surface of Deimos’s tongue. Far too similar to how he was steadily slipping backwards.

“Dei…Dei, you can pull us out now…” Sanford yelled up to the man, ducking his head between his arms to avoid the feeling of daggers dragging down his head and neck. Jebus, his teeth really were sharper up close. The white knuckled grip he held on 2b’s ankle refused to budge as he slipped further in, eyes locked into the sight before him. Not once did he ever expect to watch the older hacker slowly disappear down his best friend’s throat with nothing he could do but hold on and pray. Yet here he was. Fuck. “Dei-!!”

“Sanford, don’t even bother at this point.” 2b groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask. Deimos wasn’t going to listen to shit. That much was clear now if it wasn’t an hour and a half ago when they’d woken up in his hands. He didn’t want to admit it, not by a long shot, however as he slid further back there wasn’t any way the dissenter could convince himself otherwise. He, and the other two, were doomed. “He’s not going to-“

Ulp~

“…..listen. God damnit.” What else was he to even expect at this point?

Try as hard as he might, Sanford found he couldn’t grip the unofficial doctor’s ankle any tighter. Not without the possibility of breaking something, considering that he most likely had already passed the ‘try not to bruise the man’ stage. No doubt the clearly handprint shaped black and blue bruise would be there in a day tops. A scolding was nearly cemented in his future now, however Sanford couldn’t find it in himself to complain about it. Compared to the hole Deimos was digging himself, with a smile on his face no less, he’d gladly take the talking to. Speaking of the hacker, either he was genuinely out of it for some reason or he was just trying to be a grade A dick.

“Deimos!! Cut it out, man!” He yelled, trying his hardest to squirm away from the licks and shifting of the man’s tongue. Unfortunately for him, nothing seemed to work. It started at his hands but all too quickly the sensation of a wet tongue dragging itself up, over, and around the pyromaniac’s arms and to his torso. The dark lenses of his signature glasses fogged over with each warm breath that washed over his body. Goosebumps dotted all exposed skin, any fabric quickly becoming drenched with saliva. The sensations slowly crawled their way down Sanford’s body, more of him no longer dangling and instead slipping across the hacker’s tongue by the moment. He watched his hands, and by extension Doc’s feet, slowly slip beyond his vision into the void-like entrance of Deimos’ throat. His arms followed not long after, the darkness enveloping more of his vision by the second. Talk about a way to spend your day.

Glk~

A soft groan rumbled around the shrunken men, the sound’s maker all too lost in his thoughts. Tastes of warm sausage, coffee, and the lingering hints of whisky and iron danced across his tongue. Each lick up the parts of Sanford’s body which remained momentarily in his mouth brought a shiver up through his spine. With each second the small body inched further back, pulling his hand toward his mouth. His fingers and the body pinned between them slipped past the hacker’s lips with ease. Layers of cloth, along with the occasional sensation of scarred skin, pressed against his tongue. The taste of a rare steak and a much stronger metallic hint, again not unlike that of blood but somehow much more pleasant, seemed all too eager to attack his taste buds. His spine seemed to reduce itself to jello in a matter of seconds, relying on the backrest of his chair for support. The smoker pulled his fingers from his mouth with a small pop, jaws shutting around his final shrunken teammate and leaving his mind to ponder over the tastes and sensation attacking his mouth and mind alike.

The word ‘still’ had been completely wiped from Deimos’s dictionary, if it had even been there to begin with. At least that’s what Hank would have told anyone who asked. His eyes had narrowed behind his red tinted goggles and now they seemed to grow thinner with each movement from the muscle beneath him. As if the heat and lingering cigarette smell from the hacker’s breath weren’t enough, the wet feeling of saliva continued to sneak itself into every fiber of his being. First his skin, then lighter clothing items like his bandana and mask, and finally seeping through his coat and multiple other layers of clothing. And just what was a better cherry on top then being rolled around near constantly. Every moment they seemed to find themself in a new position within the confines of the young hacker’s mouth. While their grip remained on Sanford’s ankles, the same could in no way be said for his patience with the man who had caused this hell by shrinking them. He swore, Deimos better enjoy his time being able to hold them like dolls because the moment they were back to normal the man would be getting a firm taste of his own medicine. Whether it be by him serving as lunch or by another form of revenge was yet to be decided. Hank could only plot so much, though. Despite how much more bearable he found thinking about a way to ‘return the favor’ to Deimos to be, he needed to at least show a little of his own irritation to the man. After all, he wasn’t just some snack. They were still Hank J. Wimbledon god damn it, and they’d prove it if they had to. How he would do that remained a mystery for what felt like hours of constant licking and flipping…until said proof came. It came in the form of a kick to the inside of Deimos’ teeth. A kick which sent him sliding backwards-

Ulk-

Glp~

And the oddly shaped lump in Deimos’ throat disappearing behind his collarbone.

Deimos’ eyes had widened in shock, a hand quickly pressing itself to his throat as it happened. In his opinion, it happened too quickly. All too fast the warm weight disappeared from his mouth, pushing itself backwards with force into his throat. Far too soon did he lose the previously vivid taste of barely cooked meat and metal, leaving him with only the memory and lingering fragments of it like the other two tastes. Too quickly had the lump in his throat been pushed down by two final swallows, disappearing down behind his collarbone. For a moment he sat there in silence, the room lacking sound except for his heavy breathing. With each rise and fall of his chest he waited. Waited for the one thing that couldn’t seem to come fast enough. Moments passed with nothing before the feeling he’d been waiting for rushed his senses. A filling warmth pooled itself in his stomach, moving around against the walls of the organ and pulling a warm chuckle from the man. His hand trailed to rest over his stomach, feeling the small bodies shift and fight beneath layers of clothing, muscle, and skin. Fangs glimmering in a grin once again as he poked at the squirming fullness in his gut.

“Well look at that.” He laughed to himself, relaxing back into his chair. His stomach gurgled under his hand, what he guessed to be a thank you of sorts now that he had what he wanted within it. Though something told him the others wouldn’t be thanking him all that much. “How are you three holding up in there?”

“Deimos, do not laugh at us or so help me Jebus- Hank, get your arm out of my face!” The words were quickly followed by what Deimos could assume was 2b pushing Hank off him and into his stomach wall from what he could feel. Those three couldn’t seem to stay still. Well, he couldn’t truly blame them if he wanted to. It had to be slippery, trapped in a wet, moving organ like his stomach and all. The mental image of his three teammates slipping around in his stomach, trying their hardest to gain footing or at least a comfortable position, drew another laugh from him. This was great.

“Dei, c’mon.” Sanford added, giving his own kick to the wall in case he had failed to grab the hacker’s attention before. Try as he might to stay out of 2BDamned and Hank’s little squabble fate seemed to have other plans as he was shoved back into them every time he got away. Or maybe that was just Deimos being Deimos. “You’ve had your fun, now spit us out you chucklehead.”

“Mmm yeah no.” Deimos hummed, drumming his fingers mindlessly on his belly as he took in the little shocks that each harsh kick or punch sent through his body to his brain. Each movement registered in his brain as a pleasurable little shock, but the harsher they were the more enjoyment they seemed to cause him. Not that he was complaining. Last he checked his teammates could tire themselves out with squirming all they wanted to if it felt this nice. “See, that’s not really the plan here. Not for a few hours at least.”

“What now?” Sanford’s voice had dropped its hopeful tone, now more monotonous and serious. Beside him he heard a growl, one he assumed to be from Hank. Was the smoker trying to get them killed? Again he punched the wall. “Dei, quit joking.”

“I ain’t joking, ‘Ford.” The young hacker replied bluntly, his shit eating grin more than audible in his words. A long, over dramatic sigh made its way from his mouth with ease as he adjusted his position to one more comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as one could get in an old chair. Smiling to himself he gave his stomach a little shove, feeling the three bodies inside shift and move under the pressure. “I just wanna sit and enjoy this for a while. It feels too nice to just give up.”

Silence fell upon the three currently held within the confines of the man’s stomach, each sitting there taking in Deimos’ words until the pressure from outside had lifted. Once it did, they all reacted their own way. Hank, for example, sat still for about ten seconds tops before a punch was thrown at the wall. Sanford, on the other hand, debated whether Hank’s approach or his attempts at reasoning with their ‘captor’ would be more effective at getting Deimos to spit them up. Then there was 2BDamned, who sat in what would’ve been an unnerving silence had they not known him. Knowing him, though, changed the meaning of the silence from ‘is this man insane to be so calm?’ to ‘Deimos just dug himself a grave’ in a split second.

“Deimos,” The unofficial medic started, “you have ten seconds to at least start spitting us up or I will force myself back up your throat simply to beat your ass.” Despite the warmth of their current confines, a chill shot up Sanford’s back. As far as he knew, the last thing you wanted to be was at the end of Doc’s threats. The man often had little to no issue going through with them, and Deimos wasn’t some special case. The laughter they heard (and felt shaking their ‘cell’ for that matter) was all it took to solidify that Deimos didn’t take them seriously at this size. Guess said threats don’t work when you’re four inches tall at best and your ‘captor’ is a smug ass bastard.

“Ha! I’d like to see you try, Doc.” Deimos chuckled, giving his stomach a firm pat which only seemed to serve to jostle around its captives more. “I might not be able to handle spice like San’ but I do know my way around feisty snacks~.”

“We aren’t food, Deimos.” Hank growled, kicking the floor beneath him. The flesh sunk under his boot, a sickening squishing sound heard as a result. A small shiver trembled up the walls, one which failed to register with the black-clad mercenary as in pain. Oh just wonderful. The sharp toothed asshole was enjoying this.

“Mmm you sure, big guy? Cause you seem like food to me right now.” Within only a few seconds of the words leaving his lips the hacker found himself met with a pleasant shockwave up the spine. Clearly a certain black-clad mercenary didn't like being called food, if the fighting he felt wash over him like a tsunami of warm, fuzzy electricity meant anything. A soft groan crawled out of his lips, his hand lazily tracing circles over his stomach. ”mm oh c-calm down in there. I didn’t mean it. I will let you out, Jeez.”

“Deimos, this isn’t funny. Spit us out.” 2b snapped, kicking the floor.

“Mmm sorry, Doc. Can't hear you heheh…” the hacker spoke, words blurring softly as he melted back into the chair.

“I’m serious!” The words fell on deaf ears.

“Dei, c’mon…” Sanford this time. His eyes drifted softly shut.

“Dei…” His grin turned into a simple smirk.

“Dei…” Didn't he get he wasn’t spitting them out yet?

“Deimos…” Oh full names now. How fancy.

“Deimos..?” Wait…that didn’t sound right.

“Deimos.” Was he losing it?

…

“DEIMOS!”

The hacker jumped, blinking rapidly as his eyes darted around. What was going on? Where were they? Who did he need to kill? Where were the others? Thoughts rushed through his head as wide eyes darted around everything in sight, looking for something they recognized. Anything to show him where he was or what was going on. Relief came to him in the form of Sanford standing in front of him, a hand on his shoulder as if he was trying to get his attention. Most importantly though they were in their base. Safe. No one was here. They weren’t under attack. He was just daydreaming. Sanford and the others were here and he was just…daydreaming- oh damn it. Go figure it was too good to be true. A groan, this time annoyed, rang from Deimos’ throat.

“Jebus- Dude, are you alright?” Sanford asked, eyebrows knit with worry and…an emotion Deimos found himself unable to name. Like he’d seen something. Something…weird. Almost like concern but not at the same time. For a brief moment an idea reared its head, only to be smashed down like a weird game of whack-a-mole within the hacker’s mind. There wasn’t any need for such an absurd idea. It’s not like Sanford could have seen his little daydream. Nope, that was safe in his head. The smoker shook his head to clear it, quickly flashing Sanford a sharp toothed grin.

“Yeah man. Just zonin’ out and daydreaming a little ‘s all. Nothing to worry about here heheh,” he laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder playfully. His eyes scanned the man’s face again, trying to see if his statement had done its job. Although the worry had dropped from Sanford’s face, the other emotion remained. Now what on earth was that for?

“Daydreamin’ huh? ‘Bout what?” The pyromaniac asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes flicked from Deimos’ eyes to his mouth, then back again as he spoke. He didn’t seem to not believe Deimos when he said he was daydreaming, so what on earth was that look for? And why was he looking at his mouth so much? Giving into the call of curiosity the sharp-toothed hacker brought a hand up to his mouth, eyes widening mouth momentarily when his fingers found a trail of saliva dripping from his lips to his chin. He’d been drooling. Whoops.

“Eh. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Deimos lied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand which he then wiped on his pant leg. So that’s what Sanford had been looking at. Oh he must’ve looked downright stupid too. Well now wasn’t that just great? He just had to hope the Chad hadn’t decided to take a photo.

“Honestly I don’t even remember what it was about.” Liar, he remembered all of it. The vivid tastes, the squirmy fullness, the thrill-

Grrrnnnggg…

Ah shit. Busted by his own stomach. For a second the hacker sat there stunned, blinking dumbly as his cheeks heated up with a pink tint. Ok just play it cool Deimos. “….though if I had to make a guess? Food heh.”

“Yeah, that would make sense heh.” Sanford laughed softly, playfully jabbing the smaller man in the stomach. He seemed to buy Deimos’s story, bringing a sense of relief to the hacker. At least he wasn’t going to press on it. “Your stomach was anything but quiet, you know.”

“Go figure. And when I can’t say anything about it too.” Quickly laughter had found itself spilling from Deimos’ mouth, his mind having calmed down when he had heard the sound from the other man. He seemed less concerned, or whatever that emotion he couldn’t name right now was. As another grumble shook through his middle the hacker lowered a hand to rest over his stomach. He got it already. He was upset the daydream of his wasn’t real after all too. Not much more he could do besides try and find something to eat now though. “Say, I’m gonna go try and snag something to shut my gut up. Wanna come?”

“Nah, I’ll pass this time.” Sanford spoke with a small shake of the head and a smile. Try as he might to play it off as friendly, it seemed that odd emotion that Deimos couldn’t name was just bound to show itself in his words. “You just go shut that thing up before the Agency uses it to track us.”

“Oh ha ha. I’m going.” Deimos laughed, giving Sanford one last playful punch to the shoulder before running off. He had food to track down somewhere in this hellscape of Nevada, unless he wanted a beating from Doc that was. He just needed something small or, hell, even temporary if he happened to come across a shrunken grunt or agent. They would work out just fine so long as he didn’t let the others find out what he’d used to shut his stomach up. Couldn’t give away anything that could relate to his little hidden desires. The emptiness in his gut wasn’t something he’d wanted back, but alas, a daydream is only a daydream and he wasn’t getting any fuller just walking around. Now where would his best chance to snag someon- something be…

…

Sanford watched as his friend ran off, smile slowly fading as Dei disappeared from his line of sight. That look of caution slipped back onto his face as he slowly turned his back to head to his room. He needed a moment to think about what he’d just seen. Try as he might, he couldn’t just forget what was now burned into his mind. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the younger hacker had been daydreaming about if you had seen him while he was in the zoned out trance of his. Mouth wide open and drooling with a hand pretending to dangle something above it, an active stomach topping it all off like some sorta weird cherry on the sundae of his best friend’s little fantasy. Oh no, he knew what that meant. And hearing him mumble the names of their other teammates, along with his own, at least once through it all? It spelled out the man’s daydream in big neon lights. The very thought sent a shiver down his spine, despite how he tried his best to shake it off.

He wanted to believe it when he tried to tell himself that Deimos wouldn’t ever shrink them, much less try to eat them. He really did. All that he’d seen along with logic itself, however, pointed him at it with the firm proof that his words were lies. The man would no doubt take advantage of it, if he ever found a way to shrink them, even if he were to keep them as safe as possible. Just as he had with any unfortunate shrunken agents or grunts he happened upon when he was alone (or at least when he thought he was) Safe or not safe, the fact of the matter still stood. Sanford did not want to spend however long within the confines of his friend’s gut, especially if he wasn’t alone. Being in there had to be bad enough. Him not being able to do anything about it either only made the situation worse. Reasoning with the hacker was most likely hopeless and he wasn’t about to beg. What was left? Pray? God, if Deimos ever managed to get his hands on the Agency’s shrinking technology then one thing was downright certain. Boy were he, Hank, and 2b doomed…

[duvetsandpillows]

Lucky One

Pete Davidson x Reader 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Swearing, mention of needles, slight angst, drug use

A/N: This is my first Pete fic but I think I will definitely be writing more. Please let me know what you think!

I sat in bed, joint in one hand, lighter in the other. I’d been staring at the wall for the past half hour or so, drowning in my thoughts, forgetting the joint I’d been fiddling with was there to be smoked.

I was thinking about everything and nothing all at once. Have I taken my antidepressant? What do they do with the bagel holes? You’re gonna be alone forever. Don’t forget your earring is behind the back left leg of the desk. New thoughts beginning before the last one could end. I was exhausted yet I hadn’t done anything to warrant feeling so drained. I’d only left my bed to piss.

“Hey you home?” I glanced over at my door, reality setting back in, before realizing how messy my bed was; sketchbook and pencils scattered everywhere, weed crumbs and ash from not paying attention to what I was doing and empty monster cans. I kicked as much as I could off the end of the bed before putting the long forgotten joint to my lips and sparking it. The door slowly opened, Pete standing in the doorway holding a bag and a coffee.

“Whatcha doing in bed B?” he asked climbing into the bed handing me the coffee. I took a toke and thanked him while passing him the joint.

“I just don’t feel like moving. I feel like shit, my brain won’t stop for just a second. I just want everything to stop.” My voice breaking as I began to fight back tears. He blew smoke into the air, putting his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side, handing me the joint.

“Breathe B, you’re gonna be okay. I know that sounds like bullshit but I’m here to help you through it.” I took a take and wiped a stray tear from my eye. “It’s always been me and you hasn’t it, that’s not gonna stop now. Did you take your antidepressant today?”

“I can’t remember,” I squeaked, letting the tears win the battle. Pete put his other arm around my chest and squeezed tight, resting his hand on the back of my head and rubbing his thumb.

He would whisper little pick me-ups every few minutes while I cried. “At least you didn’t walk straight into a street light like I did.” I looked up to see him pointing to a small bruise on his forehead. “I saw a woman carrying a dog in a baby sling thing and then boom! Street Light.” I giggled before taking a deep breath and wiping my tears with my sleeves.

“I guess you could say she threw you off your rhythm.” He rolled his eyes and pushed my head playfully before chuckling.

We’d been friends practically our whole lives, yet it was rare for us to talk about deep shit. Not because we didn’t care but we were good at talking each others minds off all the bullshit. 

“Movie, smoke, munch? I brought gushers and twizzlers.”

“Only if I get to pick.”

“Obviously, you always pick.” I scoffed and sat up, rolling my eyes.

“Bullshit, we constantly watching The Mule.”

“Not my fault you can’t appreciate a masterpiece,” he said as he grabbed my rolling tray from the end of the bed and I began flicking through Netflix for something to watch.

“Your hair looks nice by the way,” he mumbled, eyes focused on rolling the joint. I glanced over at my reflection in the mirror, I looked as if I’d just climbed out of the hedge. I smiled and thanked him, deciding to put on Knocked Up.

Pete told me what he’d been up to all week and who the guests were gonna be while we watched the film. I made him a twizzler ring and he attempted to make me a bracelet but he couldn’t work out how to get the knot to stay tight.” After a couple more joints I sat up on my knees and faced him.

“Could... I maybe colour in your tattoos?” I asked, placing my hand on his leg to stay balanced, realizing how high I was after not moving for so long.

“Yeah of course, which one first?” I smiled and pointed to the unicorn on his arm and leant off the end of the bed to grab my pens, Pete grabbing hold of my foot as I almost fell off. After I’d finished the unicorn I moved onto the direwolf underneath. Pete was flicking through the pages of my sketchbook as I added icy blue to the eyes.

“Y’know,” he started, passing me a joint, “I reckon you could be a tattoo artist. You could even practice on me.” I stopped and looked at him a bit taken back.

“I’ve never thought about it before.”

“Maybe you should.”

Once I finished the direwolf I looked up to see Pete had dozed off, I smiled and pulled a blanket over him, moving the sketchbook off his lap. I rolled a joint and glanced at the open drawing of a group of clouds I’d been working on but hadn’t yet worked out what should accompany them.

I thought about what Pete said and picked up the sketchbook and a pencil. I smoked while drawing Frank the bunny’s head from Donnie Darko. It was my favourite film and Pete had watched it with me countless times.

After an hour or so I finished the outline and most of the infill with different shades of blue. I felt Pete roll over and put his arm across my lap. I looked down to see him, eyes half open, observing my drawing.

“That’s amazing.” His voice gruff and low.

“Thank you,” I said passing him a monster from my bedside table. He sat up partially and took a sip before handing it back to me. “Good nap?” He nodded and laid back down into my side.

“You should put that on me,” He kicked his leg out from under the blanket and pointed to the side of his thigh. “Here would be perfect.”

“If you’d like.” He sat up again and gently tore the sketch out of the book.

“Come on then.” I frowned and tilted my head slightly. “There’s a guy that could do this now, you could get one too?”

I stared at him in a bit of shock, not expecting him to actually want one of my pieces on his body. I thought he was saying it just to be nice. Also as I’d never considered getting a tattoo before. Not because I didn’t like them but more because I was nervous; I wasn’t great with needles and if tattoo’s would suit me.

“You up for it?”

“What if I look awful with one?” I blurted, Pete’s smile morphed into confusion.

“Why would you look awful?” You always look great.” I could feel my cheeks getting warm and I couldn’t help but ever so slightly smile. “Plus I think you’d look hot with one,” he mumbled handing me the sketchbook, open to a small drawing of a sheep I’d done high while watching Shaun the Sheep.

“It’s small, if you want it to be hidden then it’s easy.” I looked down at the doodle and thought about it for a moment.

“Fuck it lets go.”

I sat on a chair next to Pete watching as the tattoo artist, Jon, carefully traced over the light purple outline in dark blue ink. I began adding to my sheep. A few clouds in the background, similar to the ones on Pete’s.

“What you doing?” I handed him the paper, glancing over at his leg, in awe at how it was turning out. I looked back at Pete who was smiling at the drawing. I held out the pencil to him, when he didn’t notice I poked his arm with it.

“Ow, dick,” he said pouting and rubbing his arm. “What am I meant to do with this?”

“Add something to it, you got a piece of me,” I pointed to his leg. “Your turn.”

“I can’t draw like you and-”

“And I don’t care. Draw.”

While Pete drew, not phased at all by the needle going in and out of his leg, I chatted with Jon, asking him question about how he became a tattoo artist and what it’s like. I was slowly becoming more interested the more I watched him work. Once he was done he turned to me.

“You ready?” he asked, I nodded nervously and Pete passed him the design. Pete swapped places with me after taking a look at it in the floor length mirror. I decided to get it on my arm as I decided I wanted to always be able to see it now Pete had added to it. I told them I didn’t want to see it until it was finished, wanting Pete’s addition to be a surprise. I looked over at Pete, nerves starting to kick in a little.

“Have I ever told you I’m not brilliant with needles?” He chuckled and took my hand in his.

“Yep,” I winced as the needle hit my skin. “Like the time you gave blood because you thought that nurse was cute and threw up all over him before fainting.” I chuckled before biting the inside of my cheek and gripped his hand tight. “You’re good, just keep your eyes this way,”

Pete kept chatting with me and rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand, keeping me distracted from the pain.

“Should I be nervous with what you drew? It’s just clicked how much trust I’ve given you.” He pursed his lips, holding back either as smile or a laugh. “Pete...”

“Nah nah nah, it’s not that bad, but you said to add a bit of me. Trust me you’ll love it.” I raised my eyebrows before gripping his hand again, feeling a muscle in my arm unintentionally spasm.

“You’re good, it happens sometimes, we’re almost done here.”

After ten more minutes it was all done and he was wiping it up. It was aching it a little but I was really excited to see it.

“You ready to see it?” I nodded and looked at my arm to see the best tattoo I could imagine. The clouds were a beautiful combination of greys and whites, my sheep now with a spliff in its mouth and a second, slightly wonky looking, sheep with a spliff also in its mouth and sunglasses on. It kind of looked like a child drew the second sheep but I loved it even more for that.

“I put our initials at the bottom so we don’t forget who is who.” I giggled looking at his scruffy handwriting underneath. “So... what do you think?”

“I fucking love it!” I said wrapping my arms around him hugging him as tight as I could. “Thank you Pete.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek and let Jon wrap my arm up in cling film.

We grabbed some Taco Bell on the way home, I was designated DJ and he driver. I was, questionably, rapping along to Colson and Corpse’s new song while Pete laughed at me. He slipped his hand into mine, giving it a small squeeze and continued driving and started rapping along as if that was a normal for us to hold hands. I smiled and gave his a squeeze back even though I was a bit shocked. Shocked but yet it felt normal.

“You can roll the next one, my arm aches,” I said flopping onto my bed.

“Is that gonna be your excuse for the next week?” 

“Did it work?” I looked up to see him shaking his head and chuckling as he picked up the rolling tray.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” I smiled and winked as it sat up. 

“You’re lucky too, you get to look at this cute face all the time.” Pete leant forward and took my hand, pulling me into his lap.

“What would you say, if I asked you out... to dinner or something?” I wrapped my arms around his neck and furrowed my eyebrows.

“What like a date?” His smile and confidence drained from his face immediately and I had to force myself to hold back a laugh.

“It doesn’t have to be no, I just- aw fuck.” I started pissing myself laughing, holding onto him tight to keep my balance.

“Yes I’d love to go on a date, if you hurry up and roll that joint, I teased winking at him, swinging myself off his lap. “I’ll even put on The Mule yeah?”

“I’m definitely the lucky one.”

[anika-ann]

A Cup of Truth (S.R)

Type: One-shot, a bit of coffee shop AU

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader    Word Count: 3000

Summary: Your favourite pretty blond comes in every day to get a cup of good ol’ joe. You flirt on occasion; mostly you, because your suit of armour – which people boringly call an apron – and his smiles give you confidence.

When the band of dumb goons picks your damn workplace to attack, your confidence flies out of the window. Well. Good thing that the resident Avenger heroes save the day including the one in his all-American star-spangled glory.

Prompt: “You can’t mask that ass. I’d know it anywhere.” (Bold in the text)

Warnings: hostage situation, violence, non-consensual drug use/injected, hospitals, slightly crack-ish humour (?) and some fluff

A/N: For marvelcapsicle’s challenge. Thank you for letting me participate, darling, may you gain more and more sweet followers in the future ♥

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Here’s a thing: Steve Rogers had a lot of fight in him. Before or after injected with the serum, no matter his shirt size, no matter if he could swing his fists effectively or not, he would punch bullies in their face.

When it came to people close to his heart, that rule amplified tenfold. No one touched the people he cared for. And while he would not necessarily call all of them friends, he would go rabid should any harm come their way.

To be fair, the list of ‘his people’ who were still alive wasn’t long; he could almost count them on the fingers of one hand. Tony. Natasha. Clint. Thor. Bruce. Probably Fury. Really, his circle was a bit monotonous, people who could protect themselves just fine at most times, but simultaneously with high-risk job of being the first defence line for the world’s greatest threats.

And then there was you.

You, with your inviting smile whenever he appeared at your counter at the café he had discovered during his endless walks.

You, handing him a drink different to his usual ‘boring’ cup of joe once a week, because that was the deal you had offered and Steve, caught in his curiosity about today’s world and your adorable challenging expression, agreed.

You, with your pretty eyes, irises twinkling at his attempts at flirting, no matter how awkward and out-of-time they sounded, graciously returning the favour… if he was reading the situation right.

You, always grinning wide when discovering a doodle he had left on his napkin, taking it with you back to the counter.

You, blissfully unaware of his double life, genuine in your demeanour, dealing with plain old Steve Rogers, and perfectly safe; at least as safe as one could be on Manhattan.

You in a headlock, as five rogue SHIELD agents decided to crash into the café you worked at of all the damn places, choosing it with deadly precision and nearly driving the poor Captain America into a cardiac arrest.

Not that you had any idea your life mattered to the proclaimed Star-Spangled Man more than anyone else’s. You were the exception to the rule; you were the precious outsider Steve caught feelings for, the one that was not supposed to learn about his other persona for at least a while longer and sure as hell was not supposed to get herself in a mess like this one.

Steve stood frozen as Natasha had two men at gunpoint, Clint fighting another, the last one having been already knocked down by Steve himself. The only injured people were the few customers, scarce at the hour, and the employees; some bruises and insignificant bleeding wounds between all of them.

The worst problem still remained; Perez had his arm around your neck, visibly squeezing your windpipe at least partly if the colour of your face – one stained in tears and Steve could kill at the moment, kill with no remorse – was anything to go by.

He gripped his shield tighter, staring the man down with his jaw clenched and his heart beating its way out of his chest, the syringe at your carotid scaring him more than the reduced airflow to your lungs.

“It’s over, Perez! Let her- let the woman go,” Steve howled, knees slightly bend in posture allowing him to spring forward at any second, to throw his weapon, to punch the living daylight of the bastard that not only betrayed SHIELD, but put his hands on you.

Big, big mistake. He really shouldn’t have done that.

“I like her exactly where she is, Cap,” Perez snarled, a wicked smile on his bloody lips, only his eyes giving away a fraction of his fear. “Move and she gets a ticket straight to hell.”

Perez was outnumbered and he knew it; even if he managed to escape, they would find him easily with Tony Stark’s system of surveillance. Yet, he tightened his grip and with you involuntarily acting like a human shield for him, he started backing away, gaze flickering between the three present Avengers.

Natasha’s right arm twitched as if she wanted to shoot him on spot – but she didn’t want to risk leaving the other two without the threat of immediate death for even a second.

And then several things happened at once; Clint knocked his opponent down with the construction of his bow; Perez who saw it lost his nerve and swiftly slammed the needle into your neck, piercing your skin easily, as easily as Steve’s panicked shout ripped from his throat.

The next second, an arrow was sticking from Perez’ shoulder as he jerked back with a cry of pain and Clint put another arrow through his hand, adding one to his thigh for a good measure. Two gunshots sounded in the background, Natasha’s aim as unmistakable as ever.

Perez fell to the ground with a scream, not even reaching for the gun in his holster before Steve was there to knock him out with a brutal hit straight to his face with his vibranium shield. The crack sounding at the impact was like music to Steve’s ears, the blood spurting from Perez’ nose a pleasant visual.

Yet, it didn’t feel half as satisfactory as Steve hoped as you had stumbled and toppled over your own feet. He barely managed to slow down your fall, gloved palm shooting up under the spot between your shoulder blades, his other hand holding your shoulder. He supported your enfeebled weight as you practically lied over the unconscious man.

Steve didn’t bother paying attention to his surroundings, knowing that the noise around him was Romanoff and Barton apprehending the remaining thugs. Instead, his gaze scanned you head to toe, focusing on your face and neck when he couldn’t find any other injury.

You were pale, eyes misted, unfocused, skin worryingly cold to his touch.

“Hey-- hey! Can you hear me?” Steve demanded urgently, lightly patting your cheek.

At that, your pupils zeroed on him, wide with disbelief, and to his immense shock, a lazy smile spread on your lips.

“Steve?” you breathed out his name and blood crystalized in his veins, his heart, already panicking, speeding up. How did you know his name? Perhaps the drug, the whatever liquid in the syringe was taking effect and you were turning delirious? Shit, they needed a doctor-- “You’re the pretty blond. Steve. My flirty Steve… my hero. Everyone’s hero.”

Steve’s horror escalated with each word. Good news: you were still breathing and apparently quite lucid, even if your speech was more of a mumble. Bad news: his secret identity just blew up.

Luckily, he considered the good news much more important; and lucid he would like to keep you, so he shot Natasha and Clint a meaningful glare, wordlessly asking them to call help. He wasn’t sure whether it registered because both of the spies were staring at him wide-eyed as the woman in his arms just outed him like the café’s regular… one that flirted with her, no less.

Steve cleared his throat, focusing on his mission – to keep you talking. There was no much point in denying it, was it?

“Eh... yeah, it’s me. How-how did you know? I wear a mask-“

“Muscly… real muscly… and that ass,” you muttered and Steve nearly choked on his spit, certain that he just turned red all over, including the area you pointed out.

Wait, did that mean that you had been checking him out?

So not important right now.

“Oh, uhm- how are you feeling? We have to-“

“You can’t mask that ass. I’d know it anywhere,” you continued babbling as if you hadn’t heard him and Steve gulped, feeling his teammates, who still hadn’t called a doctor, what the actual hell- watching you with interest. ”…could bounce a penny off it… no, that ain’t right, a quarter off of it, that’s it… Dream of it sometimes… biting-“

Clint coughed loudly to cover his laughter, finally springing into action after that uncomfortable remark that gave Steve quite a visual he wasn’t sure how he felt about just yet.

“Alright, as amusing as this is, we should get her some medical attention…”

Steve only took his eyes off of you for a moment, shooting Barton a look that screamed ‘You think?!’

“I want to touch it… please lemme touch it—just once,” you pleaded quietly, swaying even in your practically horizontal position, straining your neck to catch a glimpse of the object of your interest. “The best I’ve even seen-“

“I think it’s ethanol she got injected with…” Natasha announced, sniffing the syringe with disgust in her voice. “High concentration.”

And Steve felt like he just got hit by Thor’s hammer… in his head. Seriously?

“…alcohol?” he asked, dumbstruck and utterly relieved, the heavy weight in his stomach lifting a bit. “You think she’s merely… drunk?”

“Well, alcohol straight to the bloodstream is seriously nasty on its own, S-“

“Alcohol nasty, yesss. And this really hurts,” your voice interrupted Natasha and Steve’s heart clenched uncomfortably when the surprised grimace appeared on your face, your eyes indeed clouding in pain, looking up at him, doe-eyed, so vulnerable and trusting.

“Hey, no sad Steeb! Your eyes pretty too. Little pictures you draw… so suuuper cute. I like your hair. You came in the day, wind blew, so messy-- like bed hair, wanna try top that-- I betcha I can do better-“

“Sounds drunk enough to you?” Natasha hummed casually and Steve didn’t even have to look at her to know she was smirking, while he was both fretting over your state and blushing to the roots of his hair because of your blunt compliments and unfiltered fantasies.

You turned your head slowly to Nat as she spoke, a crooked grin curling up your lips. “Hey, you’re pretty too-“

Much to Steve’s annoyance, the Russian spy had the audacity to chuckle and wink at you.

“Why thank you-“

“But prefer blonds,” you babbled again, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “He’s real nice. His biceps are like… huge. Bigger than my head-- ow, my head… spi-spinning- I think-? Whoa— oh… “

Steve called out your name in panic as you went limp in his arms, your body pliant, folding like a house of cards.

“I like her,” Clint noted as he jogged to Steve’s side, kneeling to take your pulse on the unharmed carotid with a furrow to his brows. “The medics are on their way, she’ll hold on until then.”

Steve sighed in relief when Clint nodded in affirmation again, feeling your heart still beating.

Steve’s grip on your tightened, hand sliding behind your head to cradle it gently rather than letting it dangle in such unnatural angle. He manoeuvred it so your cheek rested against his chest, his newly free hand sneaking under your knees so he could lift you with ease as he stood up.

“Nice, Rogers. Keep going like this, squads with weights, and you’ll keep that exceptional ass of yours in shape,” Natasha teased him, but when he turned to glare at her, she gave him a soft smile and beckoned towards your nearly motionless body. “She’ll be okay. Let’s go get her some help.”

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Your head was pounding. The right side of your neck was itchy as hell and felt extremely stiff. The beeping sounding in your ears was a thing from nightmares, echoing in your aching skull.

You felt like shit and honestly, you could cry when you tried to open your eyes and the sharp light hit them, making you swiftly close them again.

A realization slowly crept at you that there was a presence of an intrusive smell too, making you want to puke— or was that just the brutal hangover? Because you felt unbelievably hungover on top of everything. The world seemed to be spinning even behind your closed eyelids and you couldn’t but groan, deciding to only curse the universe mentally since your throat resembled a Sahara Desert.

“Oh, hey gorgeous,” a female voice greeted you from your left and you snapped your eyes open with a startle, staring with shock at the beautiful redhead sitting by your bedside.

For few long seconds, you wondered if you died and went to heaven, because there was a non-descript angelic-like creature watching over you.  You quickly brushed that thought aside, because there was no way Heaven looked like a hospital room and provided you with such shitty sensations attacking your poor body.

So you asked the only logical question, ignoring the dryness of your mouth which soon cause you to cough.

“…who are you?”

A plastic cup with a heavenly cold liquid landed in front of you, the straw sticking from it directed to your lips as the stunning woman frowned discontentedly.

“Oh, you don’t remember?” she asked, seemingly hurt. “My heart is breaking! You told me I was pretty.”

You blinked slowly, finally adjusting to the light, finally able to talk without pain (that much pain, that was) and your head started pounding some more, embarrassment filling every fibre of your being.

What the- oh god, you had really got drunk, hadn’t you, and now you had a total blackout on what you had been up to in your questionable state.

“Eeeer… I did? I mean, you are… but-“

“But you prefer blonds, yeah, I know,” the mysterious woman finished your sentence to her liking and your eyes went wide. How did she- and who was she again, sitting in your hospital room like that? Had you really got so smashed that you didn’t remember her when you should have? When had you met? Shit, your mind was so foggy… “And you think Steve’s a bit prettier. And his ass is the best you’ve ever seen, so I get it…”

“The hell?!” you squealed in utter horror, sitting up straight as the words registered, a flash of blue, red and white flickering in the back of your mind, followed by a sharp stung in your temples. A nauseatingly strong pain resembling an intense cramp – only like ten times worse – shot up your neck as you moved so quickly, ripping a startled yelp from your throat.

A hazy image of the café you worked at blended into a picture Steve’s beautiful eyes – did this woman know your regular, your handsome flirty blond regular? –, sensation of gentle hands cradling your jaw, a sting in your neck—

“You need to be careful with how much you move. Your neck took quite a hit, they had to perform a surgery on you, you got a transfusion. They worried about your brain too. They’ve been monitoring you for four days now and this is the first time you’re awake,” your stranger explained patiently, voice full of compassion.

Your hand involuntarily rose to massage the incriminated place, still unsure of what the woman was talking about, the images in your brain confusing the hell out of you. You still had no idea who she was, but her face was starting to feel a bit familiar – you assumed that whatever had happened, she had been there too, possibly helping you.

And there was something in her green eyes, cautious yet somewhat calming, making it easy to trust her for some inexplicable reason.

“Steve’s gonna be pissed at me for missing it,” she added and grinned. “I made him leave to take care of himself before he could actually start taking roots in here. He’s been worried too. A lot.”

The amount of question marks in your head just doubled, but at the same time, your heart fluttered. Steve had visited you? Often, apparently? That was really, really sweet of him. The thought of him guarding you – and didn’t he have a physique of a bodyguard, once mentioning he was in private security when asked –, brought a dreamy smile to your face.

Perhaps it wasn’t only about flirting for him either…?

“Keep looking so lovestruck and I might forgive him that he hasn’t mention you before. Though I guess I can’t blame him, wanting to keep— anyway. I’m Natasha. Nice to meet you,” she extended her hand towards you at last and you automatically accepted it, telling her your name in return.

Even though that was probably beside the point seeing as she had been found at your bedside in a hospital.

“Hi, Natasha. Nice to meet you too… I think.”

The redhead burst out into a quiet laughter at your hesitance. “Fair enough. After Steve comes back and explains what exactly happened – because it’s not quite my place to tell you –, call me back for the good details. It’s fun to make him blush.”

Despite just only having met this woman, you decided that you kinda liked her and nodded in acceptance of her offer. Steve might be sweet – perhaps even sweet on you it seemed – but some harmless teasing could never hurt. Not when it apparently had something to do with his glorious ass.

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Here’s a thing: Steve Rogers had a lot of fight in him. Before injected with the serum or after, no matter his shirt size, no matter if he could swing his fists effectively or not, he would fight for what mattered.

His teammates and friends certainly fell into the category. The somewhat relationship he had been trying to build with you was right there with them, definitely worth fighting for.

So, after revealing his identity – an action which become inevitable at that point, really – he had a delicate confession to make and a bold question to ask in an almost shy voice. He still asked it, because he would be damned if he gave up on you.

You said yes, your confession about certain harboured feelings matching his.

You said yes, you would like to go out with him very much, because you liked him too.

And no, it wasn’t just because he owned the best backside you had ever seen. Steve Rogers was, according to you, quite memorable and worth fighting for in general too.

(Steve, over time, might have developed a bit of a love-hate relationship with the fact you were getting along with Natasha so well. It was good news and bad news at the same time, seeing as it often resulted in the two of you teaming up against him. Once again, the good news won him over… because he simply loved how easily you fit into his world and how surprisingly well he fit into yours.)

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S.R. masterlist

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Thank you for reading :-*

It’s once a again a bit different from my usual writing; it’s short (like wtf me? short?) and it’s with a quote that is hard to do justice to... so I hope you liked it at leats a bit. Feedback always appreciated :-*

[honeypirate]

What’s a Carnival w/o a Kiss?

Nishinoya, Tendou, Kuroo, and Bokuto visit you at your kissing booth.

Fem reader

Choose your character ending!!

Your best friends name is Mina bc I’m watching MHA and needed a name.

Not edited.

When they approved your VBC kissing booth you were shocked. You thought for sure it would be denied but apparently they thought it would be fun. “What’s the harm in a kiss?” The principle had said while following it up by stating if anyone was truly uncomfortable they didn't have to participate, it was the person’s choice to participate in the kissing booth.

You spent the day preparing the booth and painting it for the carnival tomorrow. You were nervous about it even though the kissing booth was your idea. You only suggested it becasue you thought it would be a great way to raise money since everyone on the girls and boys teams were well know. Plus you thought you could get out of it. nope, if your best friend Mina was participating there was no way she would let you out of it since she knew if you were really uncomfortable with it you wouldnt have thought of the idea yourself. “Too bad so sad” she said while you poured. The girls team would be the ones in the booth Saturday morning and the boys in the booth in the afternoon. Your time was scheduled for noon and youd be in there for fifteen minutes.

You werent just nervous because you had to kiss people, but what if no one wanted to kiss you? What if the entire fifteen minutes you had no one would show up? Just lines and lines for Mina who was right after you. You would feel so embarrassed and it might wreck your self esteem. You sigh and wipe off a bit of paint where you spilled and fixed your other mistakes.

“This looks amazing y/n!” (Noya/tendou/kuroo/Bo) said as he came over to you and you laughed softly “really? Thanks. It isnt hard though it’s just two colors” he laughs and picks up the paint brush with red on the end and placed a bit on your nose and you gasp, your cheeks flushing “doesnt mean you arent good at it!” he says and you smile softly. Somehow just his presence seemed to calm you down “thank you” you said softly and he nods with a grin. you take the white and paint a stripe down his cheek and then giggle as he gasps in shock.

Somehow in the paint fight ended up with him holding your hands above your head and painting doodles on your face while you chuckled and stared up at him. He was so pretty, you didnt get much time to appreciate his looks but you thanked whatever gods were above for this chance

“Hey! Save it for the booth!” His Coach calls out and you feel your face flush as he just laughs above you and rolls off you “sorry coach!” he replies and you avoid eye contact, too embarrassed for being caught goofing off.

“The booth is going to be amazing tomorrow” he says and helps you wash your brushes. “I hope so” you whisper softly, your anxieties coming back. When you’re done you walk him to the gym door so he can head to practice “Hey” he says softly and you look up at him “i’ll see you at the booth tomorrow, okay?” he says with a grin and it makes your stomach flop and your heart race. Your cheeks feel warm as you smile back at him “i’ll-” you clear your throat so you can sound more confident and then grin “i’ll be looking forward to it”

You couldnt sleep, nervous for the kissing booth but now you were nervous because you knew at least ONE person would be there in your line. You didnt even care if you had no other people who wanted to kiss you because you knew your crush was going to be there. At least you hoped that was what he meant.

That morning you made sure you wore your favorite outfit and put on a little perfume, you did your hair your favorite way so you could have more confidence in yourself and at the end of getting ready you felt actually really good about yourself. You looked in the mirror and smiled, maybe today would be the day you would kiss your crush.

Mina shaked your shoulders and squealed “are you ready?!” she said and pushed you towards the booth you had been abiding all day a long “nooooo” is his you respond and she just laughs. “Time to switch!” she sings and your Captain laughs at the boos that Mina get and she waves “sorry boys” she says and pats your shoulder as she exits the booth “good luck” she says and you smile and swallow hard. “Now it’s time for y/n!” Mina sings and you walk through the booth, pausing for a moment when you hear whistles and cheers which was the opposite of what you were expecting. You take a seat on the stool and feel your cheeks flush as the first boy steps up and hands you a red ticket and then presses his lips to yours for a second.

After five minutes kissing didnt even feel like kissing anymore. You lost count of the people who wanted to kiss you but after a few more minutes the line ends and you get a break. You look at your phone to check how much time you have left. 4 minutes to go. You felt your heart begin to shrink when you thought he wouldn’t come. You were distracted by a text from Mina you didnt notice someone approaching until he spoke.

Nishinoya

“Is this booth open?” he asks with a chuckle and your eyes snap up as a smile spreads across your lips “i thought you werent gonna make it” you say with a lilt in your voice and he laughs “how could i miss this? I get to kiss the most beautiful girl not to mention my long time crush” you feel your cheeks flush “i've been waiting for you all day, not to mention i won you this!” he pulls up a small teddy bear and your eyes widen with a chuckle “really! That’s so sweet Noya!” he gets a little nervous now, he confessed his feelings and you didn't say anything about it yet. He feels his face flush as he fumbles with his ticket in his hands. “So.. uh.. Yeah” he says and rocks on his toes as he looks at his ticket. You laugh and hold out your left hand for the ticket with a small smile. He grins as his cheeks dust darker pink as he places the piece of paper gently in your palm. You hop off the stool and lean across the booth to cup his cheek “i’ve been waiting all day for you” you whisper and then you press your lips to his.

Your lips softly rest against his for a moment before you’re pulling back “no, wait” he says softly and cups your cheeks, pulling them back to his own. His tongue touches your bottom lip and you meet it with your own, deepening the kiss and humming in happiness as your lips move together

“Hello?!” the boy behind him asks annoyed and you pull apart with blushing cheeks “sorry guys y/n’s time is over!” Mina says from behind you. You dont know when she appeared but you felt embarrassed anyway. You wave to the long line of guys that had appeared and they all looked mad as Nishinoy just looked like he was in heaven as he walked around the side of the booth to meet you at the back. “Hi” you say shyly and he smiles “hi beautiful” he says you blush “I really like you, Yuu” you whisper with a shy laugh and he takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. “I would hope so! You kissed me like it!” you laugh and rock your shoulder into his playfully “wanna go get some cotton candy?” he asks and you laugh “yes! That sounds amazing. Then maybe we could ride the ferris wheel”

Tendou

“Helloooo” he says happily while waving his ticket slowly in front of your phone “aren’t phones against the rules?” you laugh and roll your eyes “you’re here” you say softly and he smiles and runs a hand through his hair “here i am!” he says with a laugh that shows his anxiety. You take his ticket and then reach up and run your hands through his hair “can i tell you something?” you ask, grateful there isn’t anyone behind him right now. He nods, his ruby eyes shining as they stare into yours “I’ve been waiting for you Satori” you say and laugh shyly and he cups your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours softly. Its soft and sweet and when you pull back he’s pulling your lips back to his again and again, quickly peppering kisses against your lips as you chuckle. “Tendou?” he kisses you and hums in response “maybe” kiss kiss “we should” more kisses “tendou!” mina shouts and he pulls back to look behind you as he still holds your face “take her away, her time is over” tendou shouts for joy and hops through the booth window, taking your hand and leading you away as you chuckle “lets get some lunch and talk about how much you love me” he says and you laugh “sounds good to me” you respond and squeeze his hand. He looks to you with a gasp before his face turns into a grin “and obviously i’ll talk about how much i love you back. It wont just be about me” you laugh “i know, i could tell how much you liked me from those kisses”

Kuroo

“Hey there cutie” he says and you laugh as you shove your phone in your pocket. He always had a way of taking away all your anxiety. You smile up at him as he hands you a red ticket. “Glad you could finally make it Tetsu” you joke as you take his ticket, placing it in the basket with all the others. “I told you id be here” he said with a smile as he leaned his elbows on the booth and smiled at you now he was your height. “And here i thought you were just waiting to kiss all the girls” he hums and reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear “nah, i only wanna kiss you. I mean, why would i want to kiss anyone else when i have you?” you hop off the stool and lean closer “and how are you sure you even have me?” you whisper and he cups your cheek softly “you have no idea how bad I am hoping” he says, his eyes showing how much vulnerability he is hiding with his teasing “same here” you whisper as he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours. The kiss ends sooner than you hoped but the way he is smiling melts your heart “are you done here yet?” he asks with a chuckle and mina behind you yells out “yes! She is! Go on!” she ushers you out of the booth. He holds his hand out to you and you take it with a smile, lacing your fingers together “I guess you were right” you say and he laughs “about what?’ he asks and you squeeze his hand as a blush dusts your cheeks “you have me”

Bokuto

“Hey!” he shouts and you look up at him “no hey hey hey?” you ask as you stand from the stool and smile. He laughs and scratches behind his head “i’m just a little nervous” he says with a shy laugh “hey” you say softly and he meets your eye with his cheeks blushing “I was really hoping you’d come” you say softly, your heart racing. “Really?” he asks and leans forward, placing his ticket on the booth edge and you laugh with a nod. You raise your hand and use your finger to tell him to come closer which he does with a smile and you cup his cheek with one hand while leaning into his opposite ear “i really, really like you Kou” you whisper and he hums in excitement “i like you too!” he says and you laugh “maybe i should kiss you now” he says and you nod as you feel yourself get twice as nervous. He cups your cheeks “so beautiful” he whispers before he presses his lips to yours. You hum at the same time and then chuckle as you kiss him deeper. He pulls back and you chuckle as you wipe his bottom lip with your thumb. Mina taps your shoulder “you’re done hun, now go get your man” she says and you laugh as you make your way around to Bo who excitedly takes your hand “do you wanna maybe turn this into a date?” he asks and you smile with a nod “I’d love that Kou”

~ending~

You spend the whole day with him and watch the sunset form the Ferris wheel, stopping right at the top for you guys. “Wait” you say and turn to him “weren’t you supposed to be in the kissing booth too?” You ask and he chuckles softly “yeah I ditched. I don’t want to kiss anyone else but you” you smile, your cheeks flushing and heart dancing at his words “well if I knew that in the beginning” you say with a laugh and he cups your cheek “you only wanna kiss me too?” He asks softly, his eyes drifting to your lips as you nod. “Then maybe you should be my girl” he says and you laugh “yeah maybe I should” you say just before his lips press against yours for the umpteenth time already today, sending warm fuzzies to your heart and spawned more butterflies you were sure to fly out and into his mouth.

[grayfilmsandstuff]

Hey there friendo! Could I get a funky madcom matchup? I'm fine with whoever (๑¯∇¯๑) This is also gonna be hella disjointed, so I apologize in advance (╥w╥)

I'm 4'11 with super dark brown eyes and hair and a baby face; most people always think  I'm much younger than I actually am (I'm 20, but just look like a forever teen I guess) I've got dreadlocks that go a little past mid back, freckles, beauty marks and light patches all over my body (not sure if its vitiligo or not), and I wear prescription sports goggles instead of normal glasses since the straps make me less likely to lose them, and Im accidentally rough on stuff sometimes

Agender, aroace with leaning for gender neutral and neopronouns, but i dont really care much in the end ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I've got a metric shit-ton of mental illness, so my mental state is Wack™, tho I'll point out my ADHD and Autism since those are my most prominent. Paradoxical is the best word to describe me cuz I can range from feral gremlin memelord to so-quiet-you-forget-Im-there (I accidentally scare people alot cuz of this). Relatively apathetic emotionally, and I can sometimes struggle with social cues, I'm also very childish, hyperactive and immature, and can be blunt and straight forward with my words. I have a trash sense of humor (I'll basically laugh at anything), tho I do enjoy dark, self-deprecating, and/or inappropriate jokes the most. Since most people see me as "ignorant baby", I like fucking with them by just saying the weirdest shit or casually cursing because I can. Honestly, the amount of memes, shitposts, and copypastas that I've memorized just for the sake of a joke, is amazing.

I'm academically smart to a degree, with a leaning towards the sciences, maths, and engineering. Mostly a big psychology and astronomy nerd and really big into art. I've gotta bunch of sketchbooks and folders full of drawings, (mostly character designs), from over the years and too many damn color pencils (that I will continue to add on too, because fuck yeah colors). I'm really into transformers, comics, anime, video games, and true crime. I like to lift weights and have questionable eating habits (forgetting to eat is a problem of mine so I always have snacks on me, and I tend to eat things I really shouldnt; Ex. Chalk) and basically eat like a famine survivor when it comes to food. I practically inhale my food and I tend to get aggressive if someone tries to interact with me while I'm eating or cooking. All and all tho, I'm mostly here to vibe and just live in the moment.

I have a lot of cat-like habits and tend to headbutt, rub up against, and bite and/or lick people who I like; walk on my toes alot; and prefer small spaces over wide open ones. I'm also really flexible, so it's not odd to causally find me weird ass positions. Gets the nyoomies randomly and struggles with volume control (not helped by me being slightly hard at hearing), so I'll usually pace around while talking and making random noises (echolocalia basically, and I'll mostly beep, meow, trill, make Kirby noises "poyo!", etc.,), and also hand flappy! I also like to sing to myself and have a really great range (mostly on the higher end of the spectrum), as well as decent voice acting capabilities! I mirror things alot, so if I interact with someone long enough, I'll subconsciously start mimicking them and their habits (mostly verbal quirks and accents, but physical quirks too sometimes). Very much prefer hot and humid weather and get real tried/hibernate when it gets colder. For that reason, I've got a huge nest of soft blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals.

i.. . .this was so long.. . .. i love you thank you for sending in a request but note for people in the future please don't make your requests this long it makes it rough on me

this is a good example of the longest request i'll take and this is a good example of the shortest use this to your advantage

i match you wiiiiiith...

Hank!

- Hank isn't sure where you came from but he returned to the bunker with you one day and after the shock factor was over, everyone accepted it and welcomed you in

- they really like your goggles, sometimes they'll point to their own and then point to you, saying that you were matching :}

- he's got a wack mental state too, so he understands a lot of what you're going through and helps you with social cues from the other three, and just is there in general to help out

- you also help them if they feel like they need to lean onto you for comfort or help

- he actually thinks your bluntness is helpful because he's the kind of person is mostly oblivious and doesn't understand what you're saying unless you say it directly and say exactly what you mean

- they love making you laugh at the silliest things. if makes them really happy knowing that they can make you smile or laugh no matter what the circumstances are

- a lot of the time when you say a meme or a copypasta in front of him he won't understand and will ask you what it means

- "one bad gloop and she do what i yoinky two big splurgs and a big gloopy three more yoinks, then i buy me a smoothie poured up a gloop, that's a gloop and a splurgy"

- "...i'm sorry what"

- they really look up to how smart you are and it fascinates them when you'll just ramble about a topic because they know that means you're really interested in it

- you love drawing and a lot of the time you give your assorted doodles to Hank. he loves and cherishes them because what the heck how are you so talented??

- they get onto you for eating things you shouldn't. they want you be happy and healthy, not just the former

- he also enjoys watching you cook whenever you do! he tries his best to help but the big guy has no idea how you do it

- they LOVE your cat-like habits. they love cats. period. any time you'll meow or rub up against them they just melt entirely

- the first time you picked up on something he said and started mimicking it, his initial reaction was :O but it grew more into a :D

thanks for the request! i tried to keep it short with all that you provided me, have a good day my friend

[igirisuhito]

Title: Writing down all the things gone wrong Relationship(s): Komaeda Nagito/Matsuda Yasuke Rating: Teen Summary: Upon receiving a gift from Hinata, Komaeda attempts to learn more about a student who once went to Hope's Peak academy. After a strange nightmare, he contemplates the trustworthiness of his memory. Trigger Warnings: Childhood trauma, Religious discussion (I guess?), Doctor/Patient, Medical angst, regular angst, Treatment refusal, Dementia Notes: Happy birthday Komaeda. I hope you like suffering. 

[Ao3 Link]

『••✎••』

"Hey uh, do you want this?"

Hinata's hand outstretches towards him, holding a thin paperback book between calloused fingers. It appears to be a school notebook; worn, ragged, really in a complete state of disrepair. The once white cover was now a full grey, bearing smudged writing and barely recognisable symbols. If they were symbols from any other organisation, Komaeda probably wouldn't have recognised them and asked why Hinata thought to insult him with this utter piece of trash.

"I know you like Hope's Peak memorabilia, right? This isn't really memorabilia, per say, but…" As he rambles away to himself, Hinata starts to look more and more awkward. Is he embarrassed? Ah, who wouldn't be humiliated, being seen giving such a thoughtful gift to Komaeda in an act of pity.

Before Hinata can try and make some other excuse, Komaeda reaches out, pale digits barely passing over the messy kanji. "Ry…ko… Oto…'s…"

He has to pause, squinting hard at the words. He wonders if there's a chance he's reading it wrong. "Memory notebook? Like a diary?"

Komaeda takes the notebook into his hands, accepting the gift. However, he can't suppress the grin that crosses his face as he looks back up at Hinata, the desire to tease the other just too tempting to resist. "Oh my Hinata-kun… why are you walking around with a girl's diary?"

"I-I got it from the Monomono machine, okay?!" He flushes bright red, beginning to stammer as he shoves his hands back into his pockets. "I-It could be a guy's!"

Doubtful, Komaeda flicks the crinkled pages open, carefully separating each one with his fingers. The way the ink is washed out on every page reminds him of when you would accidentally put a receipt through the wash, full of barely comprehensible writing and doodles. An overuse of love hearts and sparkles, however, proves his theory correct.

"Even if you didn't get it from somewhere weird... I'm not sure if it's really okay for me to accept this!" Sucking in a deep breath, Komaeda grips his elbows in order to calm himself. "There must be some incredibly bad luck waiting for me! For Hinata-kun to go out of his way to give me something so amazing… haha, I feel a little tingly just thinking about it!"

"Seriously, it's no big deal," it seems as though Hinata's face is just getting hotter, he must be truly embarrassed by how much of a fuss Komaeda is making over it. "Just take it, okay? We had a good time today."

"Well, thank you, Hinata-kun. It makes me unbearably happy that you would give me a gift like this!" Smile stretching impossibly wide, Komaeda holds the notebook close to his chest, careful not to crush it.

"Go home, Komaeda."

With an aggressive nod, he says his farewells, "Well then, I'll see you tomorrow, Hinata-kun."

And with that, Hinata turns away, already running off down the beach. He's sprinting like he's trying to escape something, though it wouldn't surprise Komaeda if he was just trying to run away from any possibility of them speaking again. Unfortunately for Hinata, their time on this island isn't nearly over, and he would have to face Komaeda once again tomorrow in Jabberwock Park.

A soft sigh slips past his lips with the thought. He glances towards the horizon, the glowing sea of orange as waves gently roll up on the shoreline. The sun is setting on another perfect day. A cool breeze plays at the strands of Komaeda's hair, knocking it into his eyes. He brings a hand to his face, tucking the loose white locks behind one ear as he glances back down towards the notebook in his hands.

"Memory notebook, huh?"

◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌

Komaeda sits himself down on the edge of the bed with a sigh, placing his gift from Hinata at his side. It has been an unbearably long day, between spending the morning working to collect resources and the afternoon making sandcastles with Hinata, he was worn to the bone.

He leans down to undo the zips on his boots before kicking them off. As he wiggles his toes, he is overcome by the unpleasant sensation of sand sticking between them. With a groan, he begrudgingly pulls off his socks too, all too aware of the sound of the grains hitting the floorboard as he does. A mess to deal with later.

Quickly dusting off his feet, then brings them up onto the bed with him, laying back on the covers. An ache immediately begins to settle in his muscles, and a yawn forces its way out of his mouth. With the warm heat of the evening, it feels as though he could fall asleep right here and now. As pleasant as that would be, he has yet to properly examine Hinata's gift. He'd been brimming with anxious excitement to look at it the whole walk back to his cabin.

Bringing the notebook up to his side, he lays his head against the pillow and flicks it open. The first page is filled with rushed writing done in black pen, ink that has since been washed away. If he squints hard enough, he can just barely make out the characters, fill in some blanks. This is definitely a notebook once belonging to somebody going to Hope's Peak Academy.

How exciting!

He turns the page. There's a two page spread of nothing but blurry sketches and doodles, and from what he can tell, they're incredibly well done. The artist obviously had quite the knack for reproducing realistic details, honing in on fine points such as the eyes and lips.

Carefully flicking to the next page, he finds more hastily scribbled notes and drawings. It's unusual, the subject is the same in almost every occasion, and with each depiction Komaeda finds himself starting to build a better image of that person in his head.

The ballpoint scribbles illustrate a young Japanese man, bearing long shoulder length hair and meticulously detailed eyelashes. His lips are thin, often turned down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. The owner of the diary was very clearly infatuated with him, and he could understand why. The man was naturally gorgeous even with such a pouty face.

And somehow, he felt strikingly familiar.

Komaeda turns through a few more pages, carefully poring over the illegible kanji and fuzzy details. No matter how hard he squints, he just can't understand what the words read, as though the information is purposefully taunting him, hanging just out of reach. With a sigh, he closes the notebook and allows his eyelids to flicker shut.

"How despairing."

◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌

"Your dementia is progressing quickly." Crossing one leg over the other, the doctor spun around in his chair to face Komaeda.

His demeanour was… laid-back. Much too laid back for a doctor. And mean, harsh, unnecessarily cruel. It was clear on his face that he thought Komaeda was the most revolting thing he'd seen all day, and he was probably right.

"Ah, such is fate for someone as worthless as me. Perhaps I really am meant to die." He laughed softly to himself, gazing down at his lap.

"Shut up," the doctor hissed. "Are you taking your medication?"

Komaeda stared out the window, wordless in his thoughts. The sunlight streaming through the glass felt warm on his skin, unlike the chill of metal on the medical bed beneath him. It was a lovely day brimming with hope, a day he would have liked to be out there enjoying.

"It's a nice day isn't it, M̧̩̹̗͕̮̼̆̋͑a̦̮̟̠̓͜ť̇҉̺̙s̪̦̟̋ͤ̽͗͜ŭ̺͉̖̫͍̯̪ͯ̐͠d̷̬̤̹̩͊��̫̻̺a̵̯͙͖̙̩͇͂͛̓̊-kun?"

"Huh?" The doctor blinked, before looking up from his clipboard and out the window. "What are you talking about? Answer the damn question."

He remained silent, continuing to gaze out the window at the campus below. There were students socialising, exercising, running to class. Blurs of smiling faces amongst a sea of brown, each student filled with a sense of pride. The air is filled with distant laughter and chatter. It's too quiet in the room.

"Why don't you wear the Hope's Peak Uniform?"

There was a loud clatter as the doctor's clipboard hit the floor. Before Komaeda can react, (as if he was going to), he's risen to his feet and practically pounced on the boy. The doctor's pale hands reached for his chest, securing a handful of his sweater. A soft gasp escaped his lips, being pulled forward until he came nose to nose with the doctor, warm erratic breaths coming short and fast on his lips.

His face was difficult to see when he was on the other side of the room, but Komaeda realised that distance was not the issue. Even when he was so close the details were hazy, Komaeda only barely being able to make a deep frown etched beneath his dark bangs. Every time he tried to take in more details, it was as though he were looking too closely at a painting, unable to take in the full image beyond a few brush strokes.

"I knew it. Of course you wouldn't take them." He spit, teeth bared and eyebrows furrowed. "You just think your fucking luck is going to save you, that this is all some big plan for 'hope'."

The doctor let go, allowing Komaeda to slump back into his chair. He looked distressed, unreasonably so to the point of unprofessionalism. The doctor swept back his hair, giving Komaeda a glimpse of glaring blue eyes before he pressed the palms of his hands into his eye sockets.

Komaeda couldn't help but chuckle to himself. And before he knew it, he was laughing. Laughing raucously, in a way that made his whole body shake with dread, his mind spin with despair. His fingers wound their way to his scalp and he gripped and pulled at his hair until he could see the doctor's horrified expression looking back at him.

"Hope?" The word dripped from his mouth like venom. "There is no hope in taking that. The disease is incurable! There's no point in messing with that fact! What hope is there in waking up every day sick as a diseased dog just so I can tack a few extra years of suffering onto my lifespan? Do you want me to suffer, is that it? Does the Ultimate Neurologist truly believe he can play God? That you can cure a terminal illness? It's embarrassing, you truly don't know when to draw the line, to give up on a piece of human garbage like-!"

"What the fuck would you know about God, you demented freak?!"

Komaeda bit his tongue, a sickening grin forming on his face.

"You think some God is going to sweep you away from this? There is no damn God!" The doctor near screams the words. "There's you, me, and a miserable little pile of pills. You're the one who refuses to see an expert, you're the one who insisted on seeing an 'Ultimate', and yet you refuse to do what you've been told. I don't know why I bother, shit, you can rot in that empty skull of yours for all I care."

By the time he was done with his rant, he'd fallen back into his chair, dejected, out of breath. Komaeda didn't miss the flush on his cheeks, the way his nails dug into his thighs. What a brash display of emotion.

"I never knew you felt so strongly about God, Matsuda-kun." Straightening out his sweater, Komaeda shot the other a wide smile. "I guess it makes sense, you are a man of science, after all."

The doctor did not raise his head, remaining in his hunched over position. He was shaking, fists scrunching the fabric of his pants as he tried to regain his composure, probably to stop himself from jumping across the room and choking Komaeda to death. He thought he would have deserved it at this point.

"Do you really not understand how privileged you are? Are you doing this just to mock me, to make me suffer? I shouldn't have expected any less from Komaeda fucking Nagito," his voice trembled and cracked. "Am I the incompetent one? Should I be coming to your dorm every night and forcing the damn things down your throat? I can't fucking listen to you, I can't stand you. Every time you look at me with that stupid fucking grin on your face it feels like you think this is all a joke. What if you do die? What do you think is gonna happen to the people who love and care about you?"

Komaeda opened his mouth to refute him, but quickly snapped it shut again when a scalpel zipped past his head, lodging itself in the wall behind him with a thwunk. The doctor had raised his head, arm poised with another scalpel in hand and eyes filled with deadly intent as he glared at Komaeda.

"Get the fuck out of my office you ugly bastard."

◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌

Komaeda opens his eyes suddenly, silently.

It's no dramatic waking up from a nightmare, no shooting up out of bed with his lungs burning and chest heaving. Just a sudden realisation that he is awake and that he has been dreaming. Perhaps he was kicked out of Matsuda's office, but how would he know? It was just as possible that he'd risen to his feet and beaten him senseless.

…Matsuda?

It's a familiar name, but not one that belongs to anyone Komaeda knows. "Matsuda-kun. Matsuda… Hope's Peak?"

He mumbles to himself, attempting to make sense of the information thrown at him. They say dreams are pulled from your memories, so why would he have memories from Hope's Peak? Why would he have memories of a person he has never known?

"Matsuda… I called him the Ultimate Neurologist, didn't I?" He asks the question to the darkness of his room. "I wouldn't forget somebody like that, would I?"

Komaeda sits up, pushing his hair back as he brings a hand to his forehead. "Would I?"

Eyes drifting along the covers of his bed, he spots the memory notebook. "I wonder if I should start keeping one too," he chuckles.

[nicknellie]

It’s nearly two in the morning and I just spent an hour writing a Flarrie idea that’s been rattling around my head for weeks, so here you go. It’s essentially both Flynn and Carrie having no idea how romance works. Enjoy.

Smiley Faces and Love Hearts

The notes were really starting to get on Carrie’s nerves. Every time she opened her locker a scrappy piece of paper would flutter to the ground, ripped around the edges and so heavily doodled on that the lines on it were hardly visible. And every time she would sigh and pick it up, read through it, roll her eyes, and throw it in the bin. She wouldn’t have minded the notes if they had been a little nicer. As it was, each and every one of the notes so far had been an insult.

That morning’s note was no different. Carrie was already having a bad day - she had quite literally woken up on the wrong side of bed and ended up stubbing her toe (which was still throbbing almost an hour later), then she had spilled coffee down her favourite top and hadn’t had time to change, so she’d improvised and pulled a jumper on without really looking at it. When she was already halfway to school she had realised that she had forgotten to bring all of the music she’d spent the weekend working on for the Dirty Candi rehearsal that afternoon and sworn loudly in frustration; that had earned her a stern talking-to from an old lady who happened to be passing and thought Carrie had aimed the swear at her. Because of that she had ended up late for school.

And then came the note.

It fell out of her locker the moment she opened it and began drifting to the ground. She snatched it midair and smoothed out its creases. Carrie knew that reading the note would only make her feel worse, but she couldn’t help it. Her curiosity got the better of her and she read the single word scrawled messily amongst doodles of flowers and love hearts.

Demon.

Should’ve guessed it would be something like that, she thought bitterly, scowling as she scrunched the note up again and flung it into the nearby bin. All the other notes had been equally nasty things, many of them worse, but all had been surrounded by those infuriatingly happy doodles - smiley faces, hearts with arrows stuck through them, beautiful swirly patterns that took up half the paper. It was almost as if the person sending the notes was happy to insult Carrie, like they thought it was a game.

Carrie knew who was sending the notes, of course. There was only one person who had the gall to say that sort of thing to her face, and sending the little notes was only a step away. It had to be Flynn - she was the only one who ever felt able to talk back to Carrie in any way.

That was the worst part because that very thing was probably why Carrie liked Flynn so much. So many people were intimidated by her because of who her dad was and her status, and a lot of people only wanted to talk to her so that they could say they were friends with the Carrie Wilson. It made things quite lonely sometimes - she knew she always had Nick and Dirty Candi by her side, that they were true friends, but knowing that other people weren’t interested in her for the right reasons always stung. That was what made Flynn so different, so charming; she wasn’t intimidated by Carrie, she was willing to put up a fight, and she didn’t want to hang around her just to say that she did. For the most part, Flynn treated her like she treated everyone else, a normal human being.

Except for the notes. The notes, admittedly, were a downside. The worst part wasn’t that Flynn was sending these little notes, it was that Carrie couldn’t work out why. They hadn’t been friends for about a year now and had mostly stayed out of one another’s way, so she had no idea why Flynn was suddenly popping notes in her locker. She wondered if it was to get her attention - but why could Flynn possibly want that?

On a normal day, the note calling her a demon wouldn’t have been too much of a bother. Read it, ignore it, chuck it away and be done with it. But that day, after everything bad that had happened that morning, it really hurt. Carrie didn’t often cry, least of all at school where people would see her doing it, but she found herself blinking back tears that stung at her eyes, forcing herself not to let them fall.

“Hey Carrie,” came an unhelpfully chipper voice from behind her. Flynn’s voice. Because of course she chose today of all days to come and talk to Carrie. “I was just wondering if you happened to find anything in your lo— Hey, are you okay?”

Carrie rolled her eyes. She’d never been a subtle crier. If she was guessing correctly, her face was currently bright pink, her eyes glittering with tears like the sea, and she had been sniffling far too loudly for a minute straight. She wiped roughly at her eyes, trying to dispel the tears.

“Go away,” she told Flynn. “Whatever you’re here to say, I don’t care.”

Flynn looked utterly stumped, like she had no idea what to do. This was probably the opposite of what she had been prepared for - she had most likely expected to find Carrie, annoy her for a little while, unsubtly bring up the subject of the notes, and dip out again. She wouldn’t have been prepared for Carrie to be in tears.

“Do you... do you wanna talk about it?” Flynn ventured. Carrie had never heard anyone sound so uncomfortable. She shot Flynn a glare like a knife and Flynn shrugged as if to say ‘yeah, that’s fair’.

“I don’t have time for you,” Carrie spat, being nasty because right then it felt good in a bitter way. It felt right to take her anger out on Flynn. “If you’ve got something to say then spit it out and let me get on with my day.”

“Carrie...” Flynn said quietly. She might have been imagining it, but Carrie was sure she heard something resembling concern in Flynn’s tone. But it was gone as soon as it had come because a moment later Flynn had composed herself and said, “Your sweater is inside-out,” before walking down the hall, back the way she’d come.

Carrie muttered a swear under her breath and stalked off in the opposite direction.

*

It was the strangest thing. For about a week after that day, the notes stopped. Carrie wondered if Flynn had finally taken the hint that she wasn’t going to rise to whatever game Flynn thought she was playing. Perhaps she had finally seen it was annoying and it wasn’t a good way to get Carrie’s attention (if that was what she wanted - Carrie still had no clue why she might have). She thought that was the end of it, that they could go back to ignoring each other.

Until exactly one week after the incident, a note fluttered out of Carrie’s locker.

She frowned and picked it up. This one was already a little different to the others - the first notes had all been scrunched into untidy balls, but this one was neatly folded. Carrie cast a quick glance around the corridor, seeing if Flynn happened to be nearby. Presumably it was still her sending the notes. But there was no sign of Flynn in amongst the crowd of other students, so Carrie opened the note and read it. Then she read it again. And again. And again. And each time she read it she became more and more confused.

Smile! Today’s going to be a good day.

It didn’t make any sense. It made less sense than the unnecessary insults. Was Flynn mocking her? Had she planned something for later that would make Carrie’s day considerably less good? Was this some new form of insult that Carrie was unfamiliar with? She doubted the last idea, she was practically the queen of insults. And she couldn’t work out for the life of her how this was supposed to be mean.

And yet the idea that it was sincere was even stranger.

Still, she pocketed the note and tried to push it to the back of her mind. She tried not to let her mind linger on how weird it was that Flynn’s demeanour had so suddenly changed from cruel to encouraging. She tried to ignore the butterflies it awoke in her stomach. She simply tried to forget that Flynn had suddenly started being nice. But over the next few weeks, the nice notes kept coming and Carrie kept getting more confused.

Sending positive vibes :)

Your DC gig last night was great!

Good luck for your English exam later, you’ll kill it.

Your outfit looks amazing today!

None of it made any sense. Especially the last note - Flynn wouldn’t have even seen her outfit when she wrote the note. Carrie kept each of the kind notes because they gave her a warm and fuzzy feeling in her heart that she didn’t want to admit to, but she still was utterly clueless about what it meant.

It went on for weeks. Carrie’s birthday came around, and in her locker that morning she found a birthday card. It was filled with smiley faces and birthday best wishes and for once, unlike all the other notes, Flynn had signed it. She and Flynn hadn’t been friends properly for a year, and the idea that Flynn still remembered when her birthday was sent her mind into overdrive.

After a month or so, Carrie finally got the nerve to approach Flynn after school one day and get to the bottom of it all. It had remained a mystery for too long.

“Flynn,” she called, seeing Flynn a little way across Los Feliz’s car park, walking side by side with Julie. Both of them turned to look when Carrie shouted and she felt herself blush a little. “Wait up.”

Both girls stopped walking and let Carrie catch up with them. Julie had a smirk on her face, looking like she knew far too much. It didn’t sit well with Carrie. Flynn on the other hand looked far too casual and collected to actually be calm at all. She was smiling in that over-the-top, fake way she had been when she and Julie randomly came over to Carrie’s house that one time, seemingly just to spill water everywhere and show Carrie and Nick pictures of raccoons.

“I want to talk to you,” Carrie said, forgetting formalities and not beating around the bush.

“Okay,” Flynn replied with a shrug, “what’s up?”

“Just you,” Carrie said awkwardly. She cast a glance at Julie, half-apologetic, but Julie didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s cool,” she said dismissively. “I’ve got to get to rehearsal with the guys anyway. I’ll see you later, Flynn.”

Carrie waited for Julie to have walked far enough away so that she wouldn’t hear what they were talking about. Flynn looked awkward, shuffling about from side to side, fiddling with the strap of her bag. Carrie suddenly didn’t know what she wanted to say.

“Right,” she said, trying to sound organised and matter-of-fact, but coming across as a little bit frantic just with that one word. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a handful of the nice notes Flynn had left her, and shoved them into Flynn’s hand. “Those.”

Flynn raised an eyebrow. “What about them?”

“You’ve been leaving notes in my locker,” she began. Suddenly she felt unsure of herself despite knowing that it had to be Flynn. It was too late to back out now, so she powered through. “They started out as insults and then you stopped for a week and then they became... nice. And kind. Those are the kind ones. And you gave me a birthday card.”

“Yeah,” Flynn said, like it should have been obvious. “What’s your point?”

Carrie threw up her hands exasperatedly. “I don’t get it! Why are you doing it? What’s going on?”

Flynn had the audacity to look amused. Her little smirk, adorable as it was, just made Carrie angrier.

“I thought you’d figure it out with the first notes,” Flynn said thoughtfully. “Julie said you wouldn’t. I guess she was right. But she also said you’d get it with the nice ones, so she was wrong there at least.”

“Get what?” Carrie demanded.

“Look,” Flynn said, “I’m sorry for the mean notes. They were just a bit of fun that I didn’t think through properly. I shouldn’t have done it. I didn’t realise it would upset you.”

It took Carrie far too long to realise what Flynn was talking about. She meant the day she’d found Carrie crying, and she thought it was just because of the notes.

Carrie felt her face flush and she crossed her arms over her chest. She mumbled, “It wasn’t just that. I wasn’t bothered by them that much. There was other stuff too.”

“Like what?”

“I’m not going to tell you,” she snapped defensively. Flynn looked taken aback as if she had expected Carrie to spill everything right then and there. But after a moment or two, she seemed to regain her composure.

“That’s fine. But still, I am sorry. After you got upset I thought for a bit and decided I’d - you know - try and cheer you up. So Julie suggested I try writing you some nicer stuff. Did it work?”

Carrie rolled her eyes, but still thought back over the past few weeks. She didn’t remember the last time she’d felt so... giddy. She had been excited to wake up and go to school, eager to see what message was left in her locker. And her mood had remained high throughout each day because whenever she stuck her hand in her pocket she felt that little scrap of paper with words of encouragement scribbled onto it, telling her how strong she was. And every time she thought of Flynn tucking those notes into her locker, her heart did a giddy little flip and butterflies danced in her stomach.

So yes. The notes had helped.

Suddenly the whole thing felt awkward. Carrie realised in that moment that she had come to get a crush on Flynn throughout all of this. It made her heart slam and she could hardly look Flynn in the eye. And in her momentary panic she said, “Whatever. Just stop leaving the notes. Leave me alone completely.”

And she turned on her heel and left, leaving a stunned Flynn behind her.

*

Carrie had never regretted anything so quickly. As soon as she arrived home, she headed upstairs to her room and tried her hardest to think of some way to undo what she had said. She didn’t want the notes to stop, she didn’t want Flynn to leave her alone. Quite the opposite. But she had said it, and now she needed it to change.

The next day, Carrie arrived at school much earlier than usual. There were only one or two other students in the hallways, talking in low bored voices or cramming in some last minute studying. None of them paid her any mind as she walked straight past them, past her own locker, and stopped outside Flynn’s. She pulled a note out of her pocket - one she had written herself - and pushed it through the locker door, hearing it drop down on the other side. She took a deep breath, smiled, and then began to wait.

She watched from a safe distance twenty minutes later when Flynn approached her locker. She looked a little downcast and dreary; Carrie prayed she didn’t have too much to do with that. But her look of gloom was soon replaced with confusion when she opened her locker and found the little folded bit of paper inside.

Flynn looked around the hallway and Carrie ducked behind a door. She was only hiding because she didn’t want Flynn to see her and decide, for whatever reason, not to read the note. When she was sure that Flynn would have turned back around, she peeked out again and watched Flynn’s mouth move as she read the words on the note.

Sorry for yesterday and thank you for everything. I really like you, Flynn. —C

She watched Flynn read the note over and over again, watched the little smile grow on her face until there was an all out grin. Carrie thanked the heavens that she had guessed right, that Flynn did feel the same way. That was why she had been doing all this - from the very start, it had been because she wanted Carrie’s attention. It was because she liked her the same way Carrie now realised she liked Flynn. Carrie thought that the fact it had worked was somewhat of a miracle.

Flynn turned Carrie’s note over to the blank side, whipped a pen out, and wrote something down. Carrie took her opportunity - she headed over to Flynn as she began to fold up the note, and she pinched it right out of her fingers triumphantly, feigning confidence to drown the unsteady beating of her nervous heart.

“Is this for me?” she asked sweetly, holding the note between two fingers for Flynn to see.

“I was gonna put it in your locker,” Flynn said.

“This is quicker,” Carrie replied dismissively.

Flynn smiled brightly as Carrie opened the note. She read it once, twice, three times, and felt her heart quicken with each word.

Go on a date with me?

Carrie looked to Flynn again, unable to hold back her smile any longer. She beamed at her and was glad to see the gesture returned. It was a beautiful sight - Flynn had a smile like the sun, in that Carrie was sure her world would revolve around it for a long time to come.

“Does this weekend work for you?”

[yanderepuck]

School AU???

I’m fully determined to get Leonardo’s Vampire Academy card.  I got Arthur’s and I don’t want him

And so me and @blackjacks-babybbc my bestie tbh start talking about them in like sorta a boarding school.  School AUs are my all time favorite, so get ready for some bullshit

Starting off, Arthur, Theo, and Leonardo are the fuck bois of the school.  Plain and simple.

Mozart, Sebas, and Comte are a lil more classy, aka just because it breaths doesn’t mean they wanna fuck it

Isaac and Vinc are precious beans.  They’re the guys you have a crush on bc they’re too damn cute and something about them not being fully masculine makes you drawn to them

Dazai is always getting into trouble.  He’s a smart kid but simply doesn’t want to be there

Napoleon and Jean are all about sports

Will hates every class but English/literature, occasionally he enjoys history he’s not sure if he hates gym or math more

Leonardo, Comte, and Isaac are in the top of the class, but yet you never see Leonardo in class??

Leonardo and Isaac do so much extra research on their own time they ended up correcting the teacher occasionally, some of the other students hate them bc of that.

Vinc is always doodling in his notebook and has passing grades, nothing spectacular, but if you’re ever looking for him look in the art room, he’s trying to get better with the pottery wheel

Arthur showing up to class??? Unheard of. But you always see him doing school work or reading a book.  Pretty sure he just lives in the library and not in a dorm.

Mozart is like a goddamn prodigy with music.  He much rather practice than hang out with anyone, but Arthur makes him come to parties.

Sebas and Jean are pretty well rounded with their grades A’s and B’s.

If I had to say who I think would be about parties/drinking/drugs I’d say Arthur, Theo, Dazai, Leonardo.  

Comte, Napoleon, and Will would go to parties, and somehow Mozart gets pulled along, and he’s like “fine, but I’m going to complain the whole time”

Now for juicy bits

Comte and Leonardo have a thing for each other but keep it under the radar, not wanting the other guys to know

Leonardo will pull Comte under a staircase and start making out with him between classes.  Leonardo is needier than Comte and can’t always wait until later in the day at the dorms to be with him.

Leonardo also has a thing for Theo, but assuming Theo is straight he doesn’t do anything about it until they start drinking at a party.

Turns out Theo and Arthur fool around a lot.  Going to each other’s rooms occasionally.

Imagine Theo dropping by Arthurs room, kissing him as soon as he’s in his room and Arthurs like “I really have to finish this essay, its due tomorrow.” but Theo’s not leaving.  He says he can wait til he’s finished, but that doesn’t happen.  Arthur would go back to writing and next thing he knows Theo’s giving him a blowjob and he can’t concentrate.

Napoleon will flirt with anyone, but he normally doesn’t realize he’s flirting, he just . . . does it.  One of the guys will be like “Napoleon, I’m not gay, but you need to stop” and he’s like oops.

Arthur’s flirts get sexual fast.  Him and Theo aren’t exclusive unlike Comte and Leonardo so the both of them end up being with girls too

Threesome

Mozart doesn’t want to be touched let alone be in any sort of relationship, same goes with Isaac

Napoleon is too much of a flirt to make a commitment at the moment, but also doesn’t want flings

Vinc isn’t even thinking about relationships, but quite a few girls have a crush on him, he’s a little oblivious about it though.

Will is open for a relationship.  He rather have something long term rather than having flings, so he’s currently up for grabs.

 Comte going to a party with them and ends up drinking and smoking to show that he isn’t some stuck up rich kid that most think he is.  Leonardo would pull him to the side and be like “Hey, wtf are you doing?”  Comte is like “It’s fine, don’t worry” meanwhile Leonardo is like “One of us has to be responsible” and we all know it’s not gonna be Leonardo.  Could totally see the two of them just getting totally wasted.

Imagine Will convincing Vinc to come to one of the parties, meanwhile Theo could never get him to come so he’s like wtf.

Girls would be all over Vinc tbh.  Arthur might get a little jealous. 

Vinc doesn't kiss and tell tho, so for all they know he's never been with a girl, but we'll leave that to your imagination.

NOW. THERE THREE EXCHANGE STUDENTS. THAT ARE ALSO FUCKBOIS. But they are the bad boy type

And what girl doesn't swoon over an accent.

Yes they all have accents but that's not the point

Vlad with his Romanian accent?? Ugh amazing.

The current Fuck Boi Trio doesn't like the new Bad Boi Trio

Faust would end up being in the top of the class as well, him and Isaac get along

Charles is also a woman charmer like Arthur.

Imagine Arthur wanting to get down a dirty, but Theo is off with some girl or whatever, and so he goes looking for Charles.  He’s barely spoken to him, so he doesn’t even know if he’s into guys.  But he soon finds out that Charles is one hell of a sub.

Vlad is also a rich kid like Comte. But he's the bad boy type, not the teachers pet type

Vlad gets a little too close to Comte and Leonardo doesn't like it.

Comte and Leonardo are in a relationship, so it's not like Comte is gonna do something with Vlad, but Leonardo is possessive.

I’d like to imagine Leonardo would pull Comte into a janitors closet because he’s just way too horny in the moment and he’s very needy.  Normally Comte would tell him that they should just go back to the dorms, but Leonardo got him too much into the mood to do that, so to the janitors closet it is.  Keep in mind no one knows they’re together.  And after a few minutes the door opens and its Arthur and Theo who were also about to use the closet and Theo goes “Looks like it’s already occupied”  Comte would end up throwing something at them and shutting the door.  He’d be really flustered after that

Faust and Leonardo would slightly get along. They'd be the two to get into a heated debate in class.

Charles would get connected to Will pretty quickly.

Charles skips class by going to the auditorium and hiding out in the balcony, and Will ends up being there too.

Jean is pretty popular we’ll say.  Not sure what sport he’d exactly be playing, but he’s a star player.  Soccer/football maybe???

Him and Napoleon would be center forwards.

Lowkey could see Napoleon as the goalie too.  HATE being goalie.  I’m mainly left defense 

They are like jocks . . . but not the asshole jock.

Jeans grades are kinda good enough to stay on the team I feel.  Maybe trying to get a scholarship via sport

Turns out Vinc has a girlfriend that no one knew of.  Theo didn’t even know.  They found out at a party when they kissed and Dazai went “HOLD UP”

Speaking of Dazai

He’s almost never in class, and his grades show it.  But you always find him in an odd spot reading some classics.  He got really into the British Romantics at one point, then moved to American literature.

You can almost always find Will, Dazai, and Arthur in the library.

Arthur will make a comment about a book to Dazai and Will overhears and jumps in, going against Arthur’s comment.  The three of them hella analyze books wither its for a project or not.  They end up getting into an argument with Dazai in the middle doing commentary like “oo, he’s got a point” “Ha!  He’s got you there”.  Depending on the book they are able to actually quote it without reading it

The library isn’t a quite place when the three of them are in there

 Will and Charles end up in the balcony a lot together and Will is normally up there reading, which got Charles into reading more because he would ask Will what he was reading, and what it was about and sometimes Will would answer and sometimes he would say “Why don’t you read it to find out?” and so he did.

What does Vlad do around the school?  No one really knows.  He ends up pissing a lot of people off, and has nearly gotten into a fight or two with Leonardo until Comte got in the middle.

In my high school we had a debate team, but they had to get rid of it due to one REALLY heated debate, which was about wither or not cereal is a soup.  I’d like to think of the writing trio arguing about it.  Arthur says its soup, Will says it isn’t, Dazai is like “look, I eat my cereal dry but i know what you mean”.  Then the entire school is talking about it.

Team soup: Arthur, Theo, Dazai, Napoleon

Team not soup: Will, Mozart, Comte, Sebas, Isaac

Team I know what you’re getting at but doesn’t think it’s soup: Vinc, Charles, Vlad, Jean

Team I don’t care: Leonardo, Faust

Masterlist

[scatterpatter]

So guess who stayed up to finish these and didnt have the patience to wait until tomorrow to post!!!

Some designs for the Smithy Gang for Weapon Fam AU: An smrpg au where Geno is Smithy’s son, leaving him a strange half-Weapon half-Star hybrid... and also leaves him as half-siblings with the entire Smithy Gang because Yes Smithy Adopted Them All, Fight Me

I infodump about their designs versus canon under the cut because they were really fun!!!

Yaridovich!

Yari is the oldest of the siblings, and I really wanted to convey “strict older bro” vibes. In canon Yari’s probably the one who intimidated me the most, while most of the other Smithy Gang were Goofballs(which is not a bad thing! It IS a Mario game XD) 

When designing him, my biggest complaint was that it looks like he’s wearing a goddamn diaper, so Stella suggested giving him a kilt instead... AND IT WAS SO GALAXY-BRAINED HOW COULD I SAY NO! I took the kilt look a step further and even added a fly plaid over his shoulder! Straightened the posture, darkened some colors for a more intimidating/sinister look, and tattered up the cape for Drama~ Honestly this one’s my favorite design

Geno!

IM SORRY FANDOM, I JUST- I KNOW ITS A JOKE THAT HE DOESNT WEAR CLOTHES BUT I JUST- I JUST WANTED TO GIVE HIM AN OUTFIT ;_; I really wanted to give him something casual but practical: you know something to go adventuring in. You’ll tear space-cape from my cold dead hands. Also some extra curls sticking out because why not! 

Growing up with the Smithy Gang, Geno would obvi have a different palette of clothing to more match them, but when turning “traitor” to help save Star Road, he’d don a more star-like look to get everyone in the Mushroom Kingdom to trust him more

Bowyer!

OUGH. This one gave me the most hell- WHAT IS THAT CANON DESIGN???? The biggest things I kept in mind while coloring was: 1- I wanted more metallic pieces so that he fit the look of the Weapons more and didn’t stick out as much, and 2- wanted to give him more of an archer look- hence the quiver and bracers!

Made his tail more tail-like, de-saturated the colors to something a little more forest-fitting and les eye-straining, smoothed out a lot of the... whatever bumpiness is going on in the original design... went with more a Sonic look for his mouth/cheeks/whatever that hell is supposed to be. Oh! Nearly forgot! Pulled the classic “their eyes are one color in the art, and another color in the game, so I guess they’re heterochromatic now”

This one’s still up to change, I’m not as happy with this as I am with, say, Yari, but I still like what I came up with so far!

The Axems!

I only drew Red cuz I’m lazy- the rest look about the same, just with slightly different body types like in canon and their respective colors. My biggest beef with the Axems was that they’re clearly supposed to be teenagers(like cuz of the Power Rangers ripoff), but in the game they look like toddlers and... honestly it’s hard to take them seriously XD

So one day when thinking of designs, I thought to a character in FNaF called Lolzhax, who looks roughly like this. I thought to myself “Hey, what if the Axems had a Lolzhax-type of body type?” And I doodled it and... Lo and behind, I think it really works! Also slightly inspired by Axem Rangers X from SMBZ, of course. I wanted them to have that ARX look while still looking something relatively close to canon XD

Green comes to nearly Bowyer’s height, Pink is a little taller than Red, Black is about Geno’s height, and Yellow’s somewhere between Geno and Mack, def closer to Geno in height tho

Mack!

The baby of the sibs! This one I admittedly deviated the most from canon design with, but... I like this design, sue me! I wanted something less “a devil in a red bodysuit and green shoes” and more “a rogue machine who actually looks like he’d use knives”. Darkened the palette to reflect the “rogue” goals, and like Bowyer, added a few more mech-ish points to fit the overall group look of “yes we’re weapons not organics”

... I really hope you guys like them, I just really like this au a lot and could make a whole powerpoint on the story potentials itd open up and- >~<

[brelione]

Detention (JJ Maybank x reader)

As you walked down the hallway you thought back to how you had gotten detention in the first place.You had always been seen as average.Average grades,an average sized house between The Cut and Figure Eight and as far as you knew you were pretty average looking as well.You werent Sarah Cameron but you werent ugly either.Just average.You were an average person with your ups and downs,having a bad attitude and a tendency to curse a lot.You had never been in detention before though.You had been walking to second period,heavy books and binder in your backpack.You had only been half awake and not even thinking straight yet.

You heard some gremlin looking boy call your best friend a whore.It was all a blur as your fist collided with his jaw,causing him to bite through his lip and send a river of blood down his chin and neck.Your half asleep self didnt think that was enough,your leg moving upwards and your foot kicking him right in the dick.A teacher broke up the fight,shouting at you and giving you two weeks in detention.The principal tried calling your mother but her being the shitty person she was...well she was long gone somewhere in Florida.She had left you a mayonaise jar full of five dollar bills and quarters with a messy note saying that she’d be gone for a couple of months.It didnt really matter anyways,not like she had been around before then.You could just stop going to school if you wanted too,no one could force you to go without her or your father around.

But something motivated you everyday.You got to see him.Of course he skipped most classes in the bathroom anyways but you’d see him in the halls sometimes and that was enough to get you out of bed everyday.As you dragged your feet,sneakers squeaking you decided that detention wasnt worth it.You couldnt really call your best friend your best friend anymore.You hadnt talked to her in weeks since she had become obsessed with her new boyfriend.She had never been the best person.She was smart,pretty,funny and everyone loved her.She was everything you wanted to be,the one person that could make you feel disgusting by just looking at her.You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your loose denim jacket when you felt someone flick the back of your head.

You turned around to see a tall,handsome blonde with blue eyes and a red baseball cap on his head.It was him.JJ Maybank.Amazing surfer,funny,attractive,pothead and your ex bestfriend.He had a brown paper bag in his hand,the paper covered in dark splotches of oil. “The buses left like 10 minutes ago,dude.”He grinned.You rolled your eyes. “I got detention.”You told him,continuing your walk down the long hallway.He smirked. “What has the pogue princess done that shes got detention?”He asked,smile widening at how annoyed he was making you.You huffed. “Fuckin’ punched a kid in the face and now ive got detention for the next two weeks.”You explained.He bit his lip. “Damn,who knew you got a dark side?”He laughed,ruffling your hair and messing it up as you approached the empty classroom.It was empty besides Mrs Dave,who,in your words,the top bitch of the school. 

“Afternoon,Linda.”JJ grinned to himself,sitting indian style on top of one of the four desks in the room.The smelly rat rolled her eyes before walking out of the classroom and locking the door behind her. “DID YOU WANT A FRY?”JJ shouted.You just sat there in shock. “She’s not gonna watch us or take our phones away or something?”You asked in disbelief.He grinned,remembering you were a detention virgin.He pulled out three cheeseburgers,a Mc Chicken and a large fry,placing the food on the desk in front of his ankles before crumpling up the paper bag and throwing it across the room. “You watch way too many disney channel movies,sweetheart.”He bit into a burger.You had fond memories of disney channel movies.You’d sit on your couch with an ipad in front of you,playing either Radio Rebel or a really bad musical.

You two would make fun of it and how bad the acting was.You sat at a desk that was a good five feet away from him,leaning back in your chair and playing around with your fingers and rings. “So youre just not gonna talk to me?”He asked.You sighed. “I really dont have anything to talk about.”You lied.All you wanted to do was to complain about everything to him.About your shitty mom,your shitty friends,your shitty life.But you couldnt.You had let yourself drift apart from him.You didnt try to keep the friendship or even get him back once you lost him.JJ smirked. “We dont have to talk.We’ll be in here for hours....alone.”He winked,blushing a bit.As much as he hated to admit it,he had a crush on you since 8th grade.

He’d sat through shitty musicals and baked cookies with you and brought you a cup of hot coffee during a rain storm because you said once that “Coffee hits different when it rains.”.He just wanted you to be happy.Thats all he ever wanted.When you guys started to drift apart he didnt try to keep the friendship alive.He thought you were distancing yourself on purpose.He didnt try to get you back either.He thought that you being away from him made you happy,so he had let it happen.You bit your lip after he said that,face turning bright red. “Shut the fuck up.”You mumbled as you buried your face in your hands.He smiled,dimples popping. “You’re so cute when you blush.”He informed you. “Stop it.”You mumbled,biting the inside of your cheek.He hopped off his desk,kneeling in front of your desk and resting his chin on his forearm.He smelled of weed and the salty ocean.You didnt even look up from your hands.

You could feel him staring at you with a cocky smirk on his face. “Am I embarrassing you right now?”He asked.You hummed,feeling even more awkward with every second.You werent used to people flirting with you.No,that was a lie.A lot of people flirted with you.Rafe,Topper,John B. for a while.But JJ Maybank had never flirted with you.Not since 8th grade.His hands grabbed your wrists gently,pulling your hands away from your face.You looked away from him,still embarrassed. “Hi.”He grinned. “Hey.”You replied.He hadnt let go of your hands,looking up at you.You just stared at eachother for a while before he slowly leaned closer to you until his forehead was against yours. “What are we doing,J?”You asked him.So much had changed about the boy in a matter of two years.He’d grown a good four inches and somehow became even more reckless.It was almost like you were talking to a stranger.

 “Why arent we close anymore,princess?I never wronged you.”He mumbled as he traced his thumb over your bottom lip.You let out a small,shaky breath. “I know you didnt...things just-just changed.”You mumbled,trying to focus on what you were saying and not the beautiful boy in front of you.He smiled. “So lets change things again.”He suggested,getting even closer to the point that your lips were brushing against his.You gulped. “How did you get detention?”You asked.You felt him grin. “Got caught skipping in the bathroom.”He mumbled.You hummed in response. “Have you missed me,princess?”He asked.Your heart was thumping so hard that you could feel it within your skull. “Of course I have.”You replied.He grinned before closing the almost non existent gap between you two.Your hand was touching his jaw lightly,his fingers laced in your hair.

It felt so natural,almost like it was meant to be as cheesy as it sounded.You pulled away giggling.JJ frowned. “What?”He asked. “Nothing-its just funny to me.”You answered.You just had your first kiss with your ex bestfriend in detention.Did any of it make sense?No.Did that stop you from kissing him again?No.You leaned forward,kissing the blonde gently and removing his hat in the process so you could run your fingers through his fluffy hair.The rest of detention was full of kisses,eating fries and doodling on the white board.He made you explain all your bracelets,kissing your knuckles and teasing you about how you had never been kissed until today. “You wanna get out of here?”He asked.You raised your eyebrows. “We’re stuck in here for another hour.”You reminded him.He walked open to the door,swinging it open. “This lock hasnt worked in years.”He laughed,wrapping an arm around you.

He practically dragged you down the hall.You were really tired.Probably because you had pulled an all nighter.But you got an adrenaline rush soon enough when you heard the sounds of high heels on tile,sprinting for dear life and squealing as you sprinted out of the school.When you stepped out of the building the sunlight beamed down on you.JJ stared at you for a moment.With the way the light was hitting you,making your hair shine and your eyes squint he swore you had never looked more beautiful.You had somehow gotten your best boy back from punching another boy in the face.Kind of crazy how the universe works.