#one of the ways to feel good is ive just been holding my pencil like someone holding a paintbrush up to the canvas to compare proportion

[dykeplants]

recently I've been feeling like there's been a real rut in my art and that I've hit a plateau. so out of pure boredom I gathered up all of my physical sketchbooks I could find (12) and I decided to look at the very first one which coincidentally I also did when I was...12 years old. and looking at it and comparing it to my recent art it made me feel so much better about the plateau I've found myself in. eventually there will be a time when I look back on the art I've created now and say yeah I have improved so it brings me a bit of relief

[satuguro]

*ೃ࿐TO FAULT A NET

[ ACT II: A QUESTION OF MORALITY ]

spider-man! ethan landry x black cat! reader

#SYNOPSIS— tara thinks not even a murderer can disturb you, you have no friends and spider-man knows, and your cats like spider-man a little too much.

#CONTAINS— enemies to lovers, slowburn, antihero&vigilante reader, familial issues, gore, blood, murder, death, sexual/suggestive content (in this part & some other parts), reader is overly flirtatious

#AUTHORSNOTE— thank you so much for the support on the first part xoxo

ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, EPILOGUE

you shut your book as lecture was concluded, gathering your notebook and notes together and putting them into your bag. your headphones hung around your neck, and in any other day you would’ve put it on and not said a word to anyone, but you were standing next to tara, waiting patiently for her to pack up.

her hands were shaking slightly as she shoved her items into her backpack hurriedly, occasionally dropping pencils. “fuck,” tara muttered under her breath, quickly picking up her dropped pencils and putting them into her bag haphazardly.

“you seem on edge,” you stated dryly, making her huff in frustration. of course, you knew the reason why; there was no need for her to treat you like a therapist and tell you everything.

“that’s one way to put it.” tara sighed as she threw her backpack over her shoulder. she walked alongside you as you made your way towards the exit. “you don’t usually wait for me,” she stated, glancing at you suspiciously, though you were looking ahead of you and not at her.

“i guess this class is finally teaching you something,” you hummed, looking at her from the corner of your eye. she didn’t seem to let it up, still tensed as you sighed, rolling your eyes. “call it a change of heart.” your response didn’t calm her completely, but her shoulders relaxed.

you both passed your professor, who acknowledged your leave with a small, “miss carpenter, miss vaughn,” which you only nodded at. you walked ahead of tara and held the door open for her.

“did you hear about the murders?” tara asked, tilting her head at you as you began to walk. she was probing at you, you knew that, but you knew better than to admit that ‘no, i’m not worried because i steal things to pay rent rather than kill people and i’d rather pay attention to that,’ so you kept it as honest as you could.

“‘course i did. just because i have no friends doesn’t mean i live under a rock, tara,” you teased with a slight smile, making her roll her eyes. she couldn’t even deny it; she of all people knew you kept to yourself. the only time she ever saw you socializing was at parties, flirting with guys and making them believe they were in charge of the situation before you led them upstairs (when you obviously had them wrapped around your finger).

“well, obviously. it’s just.. everyone seems so on edge, and it makes sense!” tara added hurriedly, “i’m not saying it doesn’t! but you look so..”

“so..?” you raised a brow.

“so calm.” tara let out a long sigh, hands holding onto the straps of her backpack. “i don’t know how you do it.”

was she asking you how to stay calm? you blinked, trying to analyze her words in a way you could understand. was she indirectly asking you for advice? “well, this is kind of an atypical situation to stay calm in,” you began, glancing at her, “but i’d say i’m just too spiteful to let anyone other than me influence how i feel. i’m not gonna let some psycho have so much power over me that i can’t live my life, y’know? i've been stressed out enough."

you looked away from tara, only slightly embarrassed at your own words. this was why you had no friends; too much second hand embarrassment. your eyes settled on the pavement ahead of you, tilting your head in interest at the sight of tara’s friend group; her sister, sam, mindy (who you only knew because you had taken a shot with her once) and some other people you didn’t know.

“you give good advice, y/n.” tara said, making you scoff as you raised a hand and waved her compliment away.

“whatever,” you said, managing a small smile her way. turning back to her friends (who were walking closer) you said a quick, “stay safe, tara,” before you walked away, allowing her friend group to walk up to her.

you passed by a brunette boy as you put your headphones on, not bothering to say hello to tara’s group (they were her friends, not yours). but you were too preoccupied with your music to notice that you had passed ethan, who looked back at you as you walked away. he took in your form, how you dressed in strictly black and white clothes yet had a tote bag with a small cat charm on it. he didn’t even get a good look at you, but he found himself watching you walk away.

“dude.” chad nudged his shoulder, breaking him from his stupor. a knowing grin made its way onto his friend's face, one that made ethan’s ears and cheeks burn red.

“don’t say anything.”

“who is she?” chad asked shamelessly loud, ignoring ethan’s groan of embarrassment. his voice broke the conversation the girls were having, making them lean in out of interest.

“literally no one!” ethan exclaimed, silently begging for chad to not make a big deal out of it. he’s been on his ass for ‘not putting himself out there’ and choosing the library life instead. he always told him off for never truly living a life of someone his age.

if only chad knew that ethan had been craving that feeling of living as though he was his age and not some 30 year old man. but after richie’s death and after he basically (almost) cut off his family (not to mention his secret nighttime job as a superhero), he felt as though that was basically impossible. simply put, ethan landry had more important things to focus on rather than worry about living like a college student.

“not really no one,” tara stated, poking her head into the conversation. “that’s y/n vaughn—”

“another side character. see— probably gonna die,” mindy said to her girlfriend, anika, who sighed as she squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“sure, babes.." anika said, "but maybe don’t assume everyone tara talks to is like, cursed or something?”

“i only ever talk to her during my psych class, so don’t worry,” tara huffed, sitting down at a nearby bench. chad wordlessly sat next to her. “i probably haven’t cursed her. besides, she doesn’t seem like the type to be really bothered by that stuff.”

“what does that mean?” ethan asked, sitting next to chad.

“she’s just really straightforward— the nonchalant type, y’know.”

“even more suspicious!” mindy stood up in front of them as though she was ready to give a presentation; which, honestly, she kind of was. a dark look befell her features as she began to talk about the possible suspects, listing off everyone’s name one by one and including one extra; y/n vaughn.

you polished every one of your retractable claws, pulling your lamp over it to allow it to shine brightly. it was razor sharp at this point, as you had been using everything in your power to make them as dangerous to others as possible. your room was boiling hot, and you had opened up the window of your room, silently thankful you had a balcony and not a fire escape. at least then, no psychos could casually climb up to your apartment.

the photo of you and your father was situated on the corner of your table as you worked; you, age only 8, were wearing huge headphones as you sat on your father’s shoulders at a rock concert. it was one of the few photos you had of your dad, and while you didn’t want to think of yourself as a particularly sentimental person, you were probably just in denial. because even as you worked and only saw it in the corner of your eye, you felt that familiar tug of pain in your chest.

if only he knew that you had a deal with an insect themed superhero.

you checked the clock, letting out a sigh upon seeing ‘11:12 am’ flash back at you. you were already 12 minutes late to your meeting with the hero, and you weren't even dressed yet. the sound of paws hitting your table and a soft coo made you turn your head towards one of your cats, a genuine smile gracing your features.

"how did i get into this situation, bitters?" you sighed, holding your hand up and feeling bitters rub his black fur under it, purring loudly. reluctantly, you stood up and began to get dressed, stripping before pulling on your usual black suit and mask. you reached for your gloves on the table and retracted your claws before reaching for the rest of your equipment; your grappling hook, your throwing knives, and your gun. the murderer (or murderers) were clever, you knew that, and they probably spent months or years preparing for their plan.

you never underestimated someone with a drive to kill.

the night was calm, void of any strong and chilly winds. the moon was still as full as ever, hanging over you like a lamp as you made your way out your window and shot your grappling hook up to the nearby building's ledge. pulling yourself up and over to the next roof, you began to run, allowing the adrenaline to flow smoothly through your veins.

your legs helped you jump over the gaps between the buildings as though it was second nature to you; and in a way, it was. you had been stealing ever since your father died, only taking up bigger projects when you were 16. you knew how to slink your way between alleys and roads, how to travel across streets and cops undetected. you weren't a novice.

the building in front of tara and sam's apartment came into view as you neared. you saw the familiar red and blue hero situated on the rooftop, his back to you as you set your feet down on the floor. immediately, he turned around, as though you had made all the sound in the world. only mildly perturbed, you rolled your eyes. "is that one of your little powers? being able to tell when i'm here?"

standing up to look at you, he crossed his arms over his chest. "you're 30 minutes late," spider-man said annoyedly, making you sigh exaggeratedly, walking towards him. one of your gloved hands came to flick his arm as you passed him.

"you're such a sourpuss. i wasn't aware that you were so strict about our meetings." squatting down to avoid detection, you gazed at the apartment building. he was practically radiating warmth, for as he sat next to you, you felt his warmth going off of him in waves. having powers must've made him similar to a furnace. throwing a quick look at him, you managed a smirk and added, "i didn't know you were so desperate to see me."

he scoffed at your words, shaking his head in disbelief. "jesus, not everything is about you, you know," he grumbled, "i needed you here on time so that we could talk about that information you gave me yesterday."

"right," you drawled, "the shit about the stab masks and the roommates. i was gonna ask one of the mafias i've worked with if they knew anything about that." you had told him what had happened after you had called the police to laura crane's body. you had followed the perpetrator after recognizing his backpack, and found him walking into his dorm room (which was at your college, another detail that truly made you think about whether you should just stop going to classes). he was killed right after you had left him, unwilling to call the police for obvious reasons, but you wanted to keep an eye on him. and while it wasn't your m.o, you might have killed him.

but spider-man didn't know that.

"i don't think there's only one killer. and as it's shown in the past, there's almost always two," spider-man said thoughtfully, eyes focused on the window view the both of you had into tara and sam's kitchen. unbeknownst to you, spider-man was also adamant on watching their apartment for another reason; quinn was in there. ethan wanted to keep an eye on his sister and protect her as much as he could, because he knew that being friends with the woodsboro survivors put her in as much danger as them.

you scoffed. "well, that's obvious. being that codependent on someone else has got to make you a sociopathic murderer. placing that much trust on another that you murder together.. that's collateral damage. they're practically bound for failure."

spider-man sent you a look (or as much of a look as he could with his mask covering his entire face). "i bet you have tons of friends with that mindset, kitty."

you rolled your eyes at his words. "thanks, spider, you're such a wonderful person to be around while we stake out this killer," you said dryly, letting out a huff.

"trust me," spider-man chuckled in disbelief, "the fact that i'm stuck with a criminal with more of an attitude problem than anyone i've ever met doesn't exactly make me thrilled."

you let out a joyless laugh. who was he to even talk to you like that? you weren't going to let some baby-man with powers talk about you as though you were nothing. "you can do this shit alone then, spider." you stood up, making him stand up alongside you. an accusatory finger poked at his chest. "if you can't deal with my attitude—"

"i'm surprised anyone can," spider-man seethed, walking closer to you.

you clenched your jaw, fists clenching as you stopped yourself from throwing a punch. "all that stuff about asking the mafia, you—"

spider-man's head turning to his left as he murmured a small, "shut up." his head turned around him frantically, as though he was suddenly searching for something. he felt that familiar chill run through his entire nervous system, and yet he found himself running a blank. nothing was happening; nothing he could see, at least.

"i won't, actually! you can kiss that plan goodbye if you keep being such a fucking—" spider-man grabbed your arm, his hold not tight, but firm enough to cut your words off.

"something is happening right now. and i don't know what it is." he seemed panicked as he spoke, as though everything was running on overdrive. usually he knew exactly what was happening, but he didn't know what this time. he couldn't see anything huge happening around him, but he knew something was going on. something in the apartment.

you looked at the apartment, squinting when you saw tara and her friends laughing over god knows what. turning back to the hero, you swallowed your pride down for once and forced out a, "take me to where you think it's happening."

a beat. he was studying your face, trying to see if you were serious, if you were actually willing to help him despite your interrupted argument. wordlessly, he put his hand around your waist and pulled you to him, throwing a web towards tara and sam's apartment.

a scream left mindy's lips when she ran into the bathroom, finding the body of one of quinn's hook-ups in the tub, stabbed repeatedly with his blood splattered all around him. "oh, fuck, that guy's dead!" mindy cried out, gripping her sliced arm tightly before she turned back to the bathroom entrance, screaming at the sight of the murderer right at the door.

they took a step towards her, knife glinting in their hand before you kicked him in the stomach, kicking him against the wall. your clawed hand came down to scratch his chest, your brows furrowing when your hand met a bulletproof vest rather than skin. the murderer swung his knife at you, only slicing the base of your neck as you quickly dodged. you punched their face and kicked them back further against the wall, using one of your knives to stab their chest, only praying it made it past their bulletproof vest. you then ran into the bathroom and shut the door behind you.

"who the fuck are you?!" mindy screamed, taking in your get up and mask, eyes widening in recognition. "you're that criminal—"

"stop talking and get into the room! take this," you put one of your throwing knives in her hand and turned to sam, who was pulling mindy into the bedroom and sending you a confused look. shoving them both into the bathroom, you helped them barricade the door before the killer came close, your back against the door as you kept the dresser against it.

"who is this?!" anika yelled, practically spilling her guts all over the bed.

"maybe don't ask questions while your intestines are threatening to come out!" you yelled, still holding the door shut.

"say something more positive!" anika screamed in response, mindy coming next to her to apply more pressure to her huge wound.

you looked at sam, who was yelling at the neighbor across the alleyway, before she looked up, her face laced with even more confusion. "about time!" she yelled at the hero, who crawled down the wall as he threw a web at the roof's ledge and held onto the other end of it.

"we're gonna get you across!" spider-man said reassuringly, offering a hand out for sam, who immediately took it. he pulled her close as he brought her across and into the other window into the arms of the neighbor before he went to the other window again, peeking in. "oh, hey!" he said lightly, trying not to show his panic.

"hi. can you help?!" mindy asked harshly, helping anika stand up and bringing her to the hero.

"oh, you don't look great!" he shot some webbing into his hand and places anika's hand more into her wound before wrapping her hand and her wound, keeping the pressure. "keep pressing down," he said, carefully putting his arm around her to bring her to the other side. "you doing okay there, kitty?" he asked behind his shoulder at you, making you groan in frustration.

"just fantastic!"

"okay, good!" with that, he swung out the window, anika screaming in her wake. he brought her to the neighbor's window, carefully putting her down before he went back for mindy.

the door behind you suddenly lurched forward, as though the killer had gained twice the strength than they originally had. the sudden strength pushed you far enough away from the door for it to open, the killer quick as they shoved it wider. you hand flew to your gun, ready to shoot despite the vest you knew they were wearing. behind you, mindy was already being brought to the other window, leaving you alone with the killer, who tilted their head at you. they took the knife you had stabbed into them and threw it back at you, making you dodge it quickly, shooting a shot at their leg.

they didn't fall. instead, they swung at you, cutting your side as you moved back. you groaned at the sudden pain, hand coming down to hold it tightly as warm liquid began to seep through your fingers. they managed to cut in the one area that wasn't protected by some of your armor. and while it was only a slice, they cut deep. they were angry; it was evident in their sudden frantic movements. they wanted you dead.

they lunged at you, making you move away from the window and shoot at them again, your shots to their chest doing nothing. "i fucking hate this," you grumbled, putting your gun back into your side before you unsheathed your claws and swung at his dominant arm, scratching it and hearing them groan in pain.

the sound was muffled, but they sounded like a man.

you kicked them, trying to kick them out of the window, only for them to grab the windows edges and lunge at you again, making you move swiftly out of the way and making them hit the dresser harshly.

a thwip sent a web towards their hand, and another sent one to their leg, sticking them there. spider-man swung in next to you, taking in the cut on your neck and the blood dripping from your hand. "you have to get out of here," he stated, grabbing your hand and lifting it to use a web to bandage your wound quickly.

"i'll be fine," you seethed, ignoring the pain, "remove his mask, we need to catch him."

"you're not going to be fine, i'm getting you out of here," his hands came down around your waist despite your protests, your want to remove the killers mask strong as you tried to wriggle your way out. "stop being so fucking stubborn and let me help you!" the hero snapped, already throwing a web out the window and pulling the both of you away from the apartment.

he laid you down on the rooftop of the building, giving you a quick once over before he went back to the apartment, leaving you alone. you hated to admit it, but the amount of blood you were losing from both your wounds was making you dizzy.

spider-man landed back inside the apartment, letting out a groan of frustration at the sight of the cut webs and the lack of a killer. turning to the neighbor's apartment, he swung over, landing in their kitchen casually. "help is on the way. in the meantime stay in here," he looked at all of them strewn throughout the apartment, all sporting some type of wound. the eyes of his mask narrowed when he noticed a few people were missing. tara and chad were gone, but most importantly, quinn was gone too. "was anyone left behind?" he asked sam, trying to keep a relatively calm front.

"tara and chad were locked out, and our roommate, quinn.." sam swallowed thickly, her eyes fogged over as she tried not to think too hard about it.

from beneath the mask, ethan's eyes began to blur over with tears out of worry, the lack of response making him want to shake sam and demand answers. demand where his sister is, cry out that they should've done more, that it was him under the mask, that he needed to know if she made it. "did," he exhaled shakily, makiing sam look at him in interest, "did she die?"

"she didn't make it," sam said with a heavy exhale. "ghostface got to her before we could stop them."

ethan's jaw clenched as his eyes began to well up with more tears that he couldn't wipe away. it felt like sensory overload; he could hear anika's labored breathing and mindy's reassurance from the living room, smell the smell of pennies from everyone's blood, feel every fiber of his suit sticking to his skin. he was suddenly aware of how small the apartment felt, how the ceiling seemed to come closer and closer to his head and how the walls seemed too reachable.

he had to get out.

"thank you. and tell your friend thank you too," sam said, breaking his cloud of sadness briefly.

his friend. you were still up there, bleeding all over the roof.

"i have to go. i'm.. i'm sorry about your roommate." he turned to the others in a silent farewell, before turning back to sam. "we'll be doing patrols around your guys' apartment." and with that, he swung out the window and back to you, pulling his mask over half his face to try and regain his breath.

"he was gone, wasn't he?" you asked, your voice monotone as you sat with your hand over your wound. you looked at him, your eyes unreadable as you took in how stressed he looked. he was drinking in air as though he had been drowning, and if you looked closely, you saw tearstains on his cheeks. his head had fallen back and his face was tilted up to the sky, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself. rather than question it, you knew it wasn't your place.

ethan, while he wanted to desperately to cry and scream for the death of his sister, only tried to calm himself. he could feel anger thrumming through his veins, and most of all, he felt that same pain he felt when richie died. as though a part of him had died too.

he realized then that the panic he had felt from his senses was most likely the feeling of his older sister dying in the arms of a killer. he felt her attack.

"he was." the hero answered, taking in one more deep breath and exhaling slowly. he turned to you and moved to help you stand up. instinctively, his arm cam around your waist, allowing you to use him like a crutch. "we have to get you help," he murmured, turning towards the direction of the hospital.

"you and i both know that we can't go to the hospital," you muttered, looking at him. his mask was still pulled over half of his face, leaving the upper half of his face a mystery to you. but you could see the lower half, and you stopped the urge to roll your eyes at your conclusion.

of course, new york's spider-man was a pretty boy.

"fine, then. we're going to your place."

yeah, he was pretty. pretty stupid.

"are you serious?" you managed a laugh that quickly died due to the pain that shot up your chest. "no. why can't we go to your place?"

"because my roommate has a room right next to me and the walls are so thin that he can hear everything i do," he responded dryly, looking down at you. "you don't have to remove your mask. i won't do it either, and.. you can put away any photos you have in your apartment. deal?"

you stared at him, weighing the other options in your head before groaning. "fine," you grumbled in annoyance, "but i better not see you making any friendly visits any time soon. i'm not the hospitable type."

"'m not gonna make any visits, kitty. promise."

spider-man pushed your window open, helping you enter before he closed it shut behind you both. the sound of your two cats, bitters and junie, welcomed you home as per usual, their meows relaxing you as you managed a small smile their way. surprisingly enough, they rubbed themselves on the hero's leg as they made their way towards you.

"very on brand of you to be a cat lady," he hummed, making you send him a look as you reached down to pet them briefly. "am i wrong? you're black cat and you have black cat. and a white one. for all i know you could have more in here."

"do you want to meet my cats or help me stop losing blood?" you asked snarkily, making him turn to you, the eyes of his mask widening.

"oh, right. you're hurt."

"thanks for your concern," you responded dryly, feeling him fix his arm around your waist. "bathroom's down that hall to the left."

your weight seemed like nothing to him as he led you to your bathroom, sitting you down on your closed toilet. he threw open your cupboards, searching for your first aid and finding it. he managed a small triumphant smile as he took it out, closing the cupboard and sitting to your right.

"you know what you're doing, right?" you asked warily, staring at him as he brought out your suture kit. "scandalous," you couldn't help but comment as he pulled his gloves off, making him send you a look.

"stop staring at my hands."

"i'm staring at the needle you're going to stab me repeatedly with, not your hands," you stated, rolling your eyes. "your hands are nice too though, spider." you chuckled at his frustrated sigh, eyes on him as he stood up to wash his hands. "you didn't answer my question."

rushing water filled your ears as he washed his hands diligently. he seemed to be thinking about whether or not he should answer your question, but honestly, you were just trying to make the whole situation less awkward. you couldn't care less whether he had done it before or not; what mattered was that he could suture up your wound.

"i think it was the fifth time i was in a fight?" he began, eyes set on his hands as he dried them off on a nearby towel. "i was still.. new to all of this, i guess. caught this gang ready to beat this poor kid up— he was like, 13 at the most, and they were trying to get back at his older brother. 'course i had to help him." he moved back to your side, sitting down comfortably and taking the suture kit. "i was able to get most of 'em out of the way. but one snuck up on me. my senses made me get out of the way on time, but i got this huge cut on my stomach. another one on my side from his buddy." he carefully cut the webs on your side, looking up at you for permission. "i'm gonna have to cut your suit. may i?"

you nodded quickly. "i have more, just.. keep talking."

"right." he cut the rest of the webbing, including the cloth of your suit, reveling the entirety of your wound. "i spent that night suturing up my own cut with a needle and thread. i can heal pretty quickly but if i were to just bleed everywhere my roommate would notice." he then took a cloth and rubbing alcohol and gently cleaned around your cut. "hurt like a bitch, though."

"well, duh." you watched him pull out all the thread and take the forceps to bring the needle out. he brought it closer to your skin, and you took deep breaths.

"ready?"

"just get it over with." you groaned in pain when the needle entered your skin, the thread pulling through quickly after it. the pain was horrible, but soon enough he was tying the knot and beginning the next one. you were biting down harshly on your lip, trying not to cry out from the pain as you felt the next one enter. your mind was so focused on the needle continuously entering your skin that you didn't even hear spider-man talk to you.

"your apartment is nice," he said softly, only glancing up at you before he focused back on the task at hand. "you must be loaded from all the stealing 'n stuff."

his hands were a bit rough, most likely from training and from superhero duties. but the way he touched you, regardless of how harsh your personality was; it was as though he was scared he'd break you. as though he was watching his strength as he poked the needle through your skin and pulled, careful not to hurt you as much as he already was.

he didn't know why he was being so gentle, why he was watching how he was touching you. maybe he felt guilty for allowing you to be the one to go into the apartment. maybe he wanted to make up for the wounds he felt like he indirectly caused you. ethan didn't know.

"yeah," you forced out through gritted teeth, trying to steady your breathing. he was trying to distract you, trying to keep you talking about whatever he was asking you rather than having you focus solely on the thread moving through your skin.

but unbeknownst to you, ethan was asking you questions not only to distract you, but to distract himself as well. he was still reeling from the death of his sister, but he had compartmentalized it all before he had given himself the chance to fully cope. he hadn't fully cried yet, nor had he given himself time to grieve. he didn't know when he could; it felt like he had no time to grieve for her. "the day we first met, after i caught you—"

"you didn't catch me."

"after i almost caught you while you ran away from the museum," another stab, another stab, another knot. "why did you bring that painting back there? like," his lips twitched downwards, "you didn't even steal anything from the museum, which is weird considering you're a thief and probably a klepto who would love to have a collection of paintings in her really nice apartment—"

"i put it back where it came from." you avoided his gaze as you focused on the bathroom floor as though it was the most interesting thing in the world. "the rich people i stole it from hired some random criminals to steal it first," you explained, "so i just put it back. they don't deserve to keep that piece of art to themselves when the painter made it for everyone to enjoy."

he looked up at you after he finished tying another knot, taking in your features. how you seemed a million miles away despite being right in front of him, and how you had just admitted that one of your crimes had more meaning behind it than just a simple burglary. and you looked.. almost embarrassed to say it. as though you had never admitted it out loud before.

"the people you steal from are usually well off."

you turned your head to look at him, and this time it was his turn to focus on something else. his eyes were set on his stitches. "old money, new money, just people who are incredibly wealthy."

"have you been studying me, spider?" you asked teasingly, making his cheeks (or what you could see of it) burn red.

"no. i mean—" he stammered, groaning when he heard you chuckle softly. "i had to! i mean, i've been trying to keep track of the usual criminals in the city and you were obviously on that list so.. yeah!"

"so you were studying me." you tilted your head with a teasing smile.

"okay! you're done." he put a bandage around the suture to finish it off, throwing away the used needle and thread. he began to clean up quickly, shoving the suture kit into the first aid box. but as his eyes looked back at you, he paused his embarrassed antics. he stared as you stood up, ready to change your clothes, before he stopped you. "wait."

you looked at him in confusion as he took out a bandage and ran a cloth under water. he moved closer to you, and you saw him visibly gulp from where his mask was pulled up. "your neck," he murmured, and you raised a brow, but for once stayed quiet. the warm cloth met the base of your neck, rubbing away the dried blood from the cut that you forget was even there. water dripped down your skin and melted into your suit, but you were too preoccupied with looking at how his tongue poked at his cheek when he was focused.

he wiped away the rest of the blood and used a dry towel to pat it down dry before taking the bandage. his fingernails grazed your skin ever so lightly as he placed the bandage over your cut, his adam's apple bobbing when he saw your eyes set on his face through his peripherals. he could smell your lavender perfume from where he stood, pressing the bandage down into your skin, warming the skin with the heat of his palm. "done," he breathed, eyes looking back at you.

and suddenly, his hands fell at his sides as he focused on cleaning up again.

"what was that?" you couldn't help but ask, but he only shrugged in response.

"don't think about me too much, kitty."

"i should say the same to you," you said blankly, brows furrowing as you watched him clean up as though he hadn't just helped you patch up all your injuries.

you moved past him, making your way into your room and shutting the door behind you. you hid the photo of you and your father under some papers before unzipping your suit and pulling it off of you. the fabric moved over your wound, but you were careful enough that it add onto the pain. you put on a shirt and some shorts before walking out to your living room.

you bit back a comment when you saw the hero sitting criss-crossed on your living room floor with bitters on his lap and your white cat, junie, nudging herself under his hand as she purred. a genuine smile was on his face; he had a habit of pulling his lip under his teeth when he smiled.

"how're you feeling? you asked nonchalantly, making him look up towards you. you felt his eyes on you as you took out two glasses and poured water into both.

"fine, i guess."

"stop lying," you said over your shoulder, taking the two glasses and walking towards him. you held one glass out to him, looking at him pointedly. "i saw you after you went to check on them. something happened."

you were onto him. that was all ethan thought as he took the glass of water from your hand and looked down at your cats. your eyes were practically burning into his head as you waited for him to answer. you thought it was right; you gave him truth, now he should give you some in return. hell, you let him into your home.

taking a deep breath, he calmed down his rapidly beating heart. "i knew one of them, and they didn't make it. that's all." you could see him bite down on his lip as though he was stopping it from quivering, his eyes dead set on your cats despite your eye contact.

you didn't say anything for a minute, letting him relish in the quiet before you began talking again. "we'll find out who attacked them." no 'i'm sorry.' no condolences, because you were someone who hated hearing it from others. especially when your father died; mafia groups sent their condolences, sent their 'i'm sorrys' to the door of your past house as though they hadn't wanted him dead for years. you didn't like hearing it and your didn't like saying it.

the hero nodded, his brows coming down to furrow together. "we will." he stated. you had made a deal with him the night before, but that didn't truly feel like a deal. this one did; it walked a thin line between a deal and a promise.

ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, EPILOGUE

#AUTHOR'S NOTE— i know i literally posted yesterday but i'm excited about this series so here! thank you so much for reading xx

#TAGLIST— @ethanlvndry , @iloveneilperry , @starsfilm , @goosenoggin , @aminatic , @wenvierismycomfort , @l5byrinth , @wroetoslut , @briefwinnerpersonaturtle , @oliviapopewannabe , @wzrlds , @raggedyoldwitch

[anime-grimmy-art]

It’s this time of the year again, folks. Time to wrap up the art Ive made in the last 12 months in another Year in Review! I’ve noticed that this is my fifth Year in Review in a row, so I’ll be making an extra post looking back on the progress in those last 5 years!

I've got a lot to say about this year, but purely art wise, I've gone all when it comes to comics, damn! I've kinda found a format that is messy, and therefore more time efficient, yet still looks good. I even made 2 animatics and lotsa shorts/reels! All that on top of opening coms twice, and, oh yeah, MAKING A WHOLE ASS 4MIN ANIMATION ON MY OWN.

How is my hand still alive.

2023 has been….interesting, to say the least. The first half year I was working on my thesis project, aka making an animated short all on my own (in the art department), which makes it honestly surprising how much I managed to churn out between animating. Trigun rly did have me in a choke hold.

Summer was a bit more spotty, esp. with me not being able to draw anything during August as I was writing my thesis (and doing commissions). And towards the end of the year, Kingdom Hearts tried to save me, but alas, Genshin Impact has finally sunk its teeth into me and dragged me to the bottom of the rabbit hole. It all started with me watching a story summary and lore videos while I was sick after my thesis and I was too intrigued to not dig deeper and well, first I fell in love with Kaeya and then the ships started dropping in left and right.

I’m not gonna lie, the last few months have been weird. I finished my masters in October, and have been on job hunt since, sadly without success so far. I’m existing in this weird limbo of still not grasping I’m not a student anymore after 18 years in education, not really being able to accept I’m an adult, yet desperately trying to find something so I can make a routine, cos rn Im too scared to build a rhythm as I know I’ll have a so much harder time readjusting again. It’s left me in a weird emotional state, where most of the time I feel fine, but when it counts, there’s just, nothing. No joy at getting my diploma, no anticipation to finally go to a convention again, neither any sadness hearing my grandfather died. It frustrates me that it extends to my art as well, there’s excitement over ideas and concepts, but no motivation to pick up the pencil, which makes me either not finish art at all or making so many shortcuts and just ending up with sth not satisfactory to me since it’s not the idea I sought after.

Tho, not everything is doom and gloom. I DID finish a whole ass short animation and got my masters degree, that IS sth to be proud of. Also, while Im struggling at drawing, I’ve also kinda started integrating my shortcuts into my style and some stuff I’ve thrown together actually turns out real good nowadays. Also, and this might be a bit of a weird one, I’m so fucking happy to know I can still enjoy gay ships. I’ve been a bit uncertain over the last few years because when I was around 16-18, I had a real big yaoi phase, which mostly came from the fact so much stuff came out that tickled my brain in the right way (Free, Haikyuu, etc.). But over the years, my enthusiasm died down, and I even started to resent some ships because it’s all some fandoms produced. I often found myself liking a hetero ship more than the popular gay ship, which really made me not wanna stick around because I did not care for most fanart and you can only go through a tag with art you don’t care about so long before you lose interest. I think in retrospect that it rly had nothing to do with the ships being gay ships but rather cos the fans just shoved it in your face when you didn’t care (and shipping culture nowadays also can get real scary). But I’m so happy to see I can still get obsessed with a ship and it’s all thanks to Haikaveh/Kavetham. It really just needed the right flavour for me to dig in again. And oh my god, I FINALLY like a ship with a SHIT TON of art and fanfictions, no more scrounging the crumbs from the bottom of the barrel. 

Anyways, enough lamenting. Here’s to hoping I can bite my tongue and get shit started properly in 2024, and that my brainrots may make me obsessed enough to churn out an obscene amount of fanart again.

[solarswonderland]

dear hanbin

pairing: gn!reader x s.hanbin

wc: 0.5k

genre: fluff, highschool au

warnings: nothing really, just hopeless kids in love

summary: writing a love letter to him

a/n: ive never written anything like this before, I'm actually pretty proud of it. please lmk if it was alright 😓😓

*y.i: your initials

you were always a pen-and-paper person.

you didn't like typing down reminders or to-do lists, you preferred writing them down. there was just something so special about writing to you. probably the way you'd have to shake your pen occasionally because you ran out of ink. or the satisfaction you gain when you scratch out a completed task.

which is probably why you're standing in front of sung hanbin's locker, holding a carefully sealed envelope, decorated with hearts and small stickers you found stuffed deep in your desk drawers.

sung hanbin was truly not real, you thought. there was no way that man was real. he was just too good to be true. the adorable smile, the way he helps everyone around him, how he never got mad, how generous, smart, and nice he is. not to mention, he is incredibly handsome as well. it's no joke, everyone was in love with him. which is one reason you were always too scared to ever confess.

but if there was one thing you were confident in, it was your writing. you figured, since you can't form proper sentences in front of him, why not pen down your thoughts in the form of a letter instead? and that's exactly what you did.

you made sure no one was watching you and slipped the envelope into his locker. you breathed a sigh of relief and made you way to your next class.

after you were gone, hanbin made his way to his locker after basketball practice. he opened it and was startled to see a blue-colored envelope fall out. he grabbed it off the floor and opened it. he thought it might have been mistakenly placed in his locker, but instead was surprised when he read the first two words.

dear hanbin,

it was addressed to him after all. although he was tired and sweaty from practice, he was curious. he continued reading the letter.

dear hanbin,

my heart is racing with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, there are so many words i've been wanting to say to you for years, and i finally have the chance.

from the moment i met you in middle school, when you lent me your pencil because i forgot mine, i've liked you. who knows, maybe its love?

your smile lights up my darkest days, and you have never once failed to make me laugh. every interaction, no matter how small or big, is etched into my memory, replaying over and over again like a broken record. i've admired your kindness, your intelligence, and the way you effortlessly make everyone around you feel at ease.

i want you to know that my feelings for you have not faded with time, if anything, they've grown stronger.

i understand that this letter might come as a surprise, and let's be honest, life's unpredictable. but i couldn't hold back my feelings any longer than i already have. whether fate leads us down a path of togetherness or friendship, i just needed you to know the truth that has been in my heart for so long.

no matter what your response may be, i'll respect it. no matter where life takes us, know that you'll always hold a special place in my heart.

with love,

y.i ♡

he smiled to himself as he read it. just as he was closing the letter after re-reading it over and over again, he saw some text in the back which made him laugh.

do you like me?

□ yes □ no

no pressure, you don't have to tick anything right now :)

sorry that's kinda creepy isn't it

i should probably stop writing...

he grabbed a pen and ticked the 'yes' option, quietly giggling to himself.

© solarswonderland 2023

[chronocrump]

Hello Chronocrump, I recently stumbled upon your art the other day, and I couldn't stop staring at your gallery.. It makes me realize there is so much thats lacking from my art that I really want to improve on. I felt desperate to contact you, but wasn't sure if it would be rude. I wanted to try to ask you, how do you approach drawing? Do you structure it first, or start with a gesture drawing? Focus on the form or perspective first? Etc My other question might seem strange, but I wanted to ask how do you hold your pencil? Ive learned that different pencil grips can drastically change the quality of someone's art. Thank you for your time. I'm sorry if my message is to long, or you don't want to respond back. I wanted to atleast try, but also let you know that your work has been very inspiring for me to keep trying.

I'm glad to answer your questions, it's seriously no problem. I wanna start by telling you how amazed I was when I checked your profile to see your work. I know you have a huge lack of confidence in it, but your art is genuinely beautiful, and frankly, looking at it, I found it hard to believe that you would be asking me for advice...from my perspective, you're way ahead of me. You're certainly better with color; you might notice I really only post sketches lol. I really don't want to dismiss or downplay your feelings about it, but I have to let you know how I felt looking at it. To me it seems like your brain is telling you your art isn't good enough when it very, very much is.

Anyway, enough gushing from me lol. On to your questions.

Usually when starting a drawing, I very loosely and lightly sketch the overall form of the pose I wanna do. Very rough basic shapes/forms to get everything in its right place before I start really drawing it with confident lines. Even then, all the lines are subject to change; nothing is sacred. To be honest tho, I usually mess up the proportions and have to fix them a bit lol. I try to sketch cleanly and concisely, meaning I try not to draw a lot of lines in a spot that could really be done with just one or two. I'm not super strict on that tho, at the end of the day while I try to draw efficiently, I also want to draw comfortably. So with something like a big circle for example, I'll draw that pretty sketchy. In terms of perspective, I'm trying to get better at it, but when considering how I want to use it in a drawing, it's part of the initial image or idea I have in my head, so I lay it out from the beginning. I do also draw structure lines on the face, just a simple cross to plan where the center of the face will be. Lately I've also tried taking more pictures of myself for pose reference and it works well.

Most of my practice comes from studying my favorite artists and trying to emulate the specific ways they structure their drawings. I should actually be doing dedicated practice sessions with that, but I digress. Recently I've been trying to practice from photos first thing in the morning, tho I'm finding it hard to commit to doing it daily. I just go on pinterest and find cool poses, then draw them, trying to get down the basic shapes and prominent features more than focusing on minute details. I've posted some of these practice sketches on here but there's a few more on my twitter if you wanna see what I'm talking about.

In terms of my pencil grip, I'm not sure...since I was little, I've always had an unusual grip. Looking it up, I guess it's like the "dynamic quadrupod" grip, but with my forefinger farther back. Really the most I try to do is draw less with my wrist and more with my forearm. Some say you should "draw from the shoulder", and that sounds right...I guess it's all about avoiding straining your wrist and getting carpal tunnel lol.

Anyway, I'm flattered that you would ask me for advice. To be honest, it makes me feel like I should have more confidence in my own art. And you should too! I can say that, objectively, your art is very good. I hope my advice was actually helpful and not generic stuff you've heard before lol. Good luck in your art journey.

[calebwittebane]

the use of "everyone can make art" specifically to deny people tools that make it possible for them to make the art they want to make, really gets me man. i think its cuz i am a huge proponent of the sentiment in many ways, i am very invested in the idea, that yeah everyone can make art and everyone can explore it and being Good At Art really shouldnt be about any one designated area such as drawing people. but it feels like in the case of people using it to make an anti-ai "just because you physically cant hold a brush/pencil/pigment/whatever doesnt mean youre allowed to bypass that! look at [disabled painter]!" its all limited to "everyone can make art so long as their method of choice doesnt threaten me and doesnt make me feel like the effort ive put in is No Longer Special And Exclusive". because if someone can use a tool thats accessible to them that wouldnt make them have to suffer, then that makes our own effort and suffering null, right? god. repackaging of "why did i even learn all this anatomy stuff if someone can just paint a square and they put that in the museum?" but with an ableist condescending spin. do you really want everyone to make art if the "everyone" in question should by default be barred from certain types of expression, and certain areas of art should just be Off Limits to anyone whos not willing to suffer and prove their merit in a very arbitrary exclusionary way?

and since people like to include an "i'm X and i do Y, you guys have no excuse" type disclaimer in such statements--i'm a traditional & digital artist whos been doing this for most of my life and managed to get a degree in easel painting (and almost died several times in the process) and who puts a lot of effort and studying into this shit, and who suffers from bouts of complete aphantasia due to brain damage lol which makes creating visual art difficult, but i choose not to use ai as an artistic tool because idk thats just not what i do and i personally dont find using it for art enjoyable or inspiring. so those are my Qualifications before someone unfamiliar with above information is like 'why do you hate Real artists' or 'you just defend ai to make yourself feel better about using it'

[thedeafprophet]

#1 and #7 for the art asks? (from @neathyingenue btw ;D)

1.When did you start creating art?

I would argue that everyone, always, and forever is making art in their own invidual unique ways. while we may have certain perspectives on various art forms, i think to create is simply part of being human.

....if u wanna know when i started drawing i would say maybe around 13/14 was when i frist started sketching? I was never one of those kids who's been 'drawing since they could hold a pencil' or whatever. I never really had any natural inflication towards drawing - as a younger kid i spent more of my creative time building structures out of popsicle sticks and whatever else i got my hands on.

When i was in my preteens/early teens, i mostly started trying to draw because my friends at the time were all doing it and i felt left out 😅😅 it was a bit of an uphill climb starting from a place with less experience and no natural talent for it.

I sorta clawed my way up from there, trying and failing since then. The real skill of an artist isn't drawing in my mind; its continuing to work at it even when you feel like it sucks.

I only really have my digital art saved back to when i was 18, but i started doing it a bit before then. And it was only in the last few years that I really feel like ive gotten a handle on how I draw, where i've ever felt solidly good about things i create, even if i still struggle with self esteem. Its funny what having a muse, so to speak, in your own characters will do for your art.

hmm. this. turned into a ramble. apologies lmao

All that is too say: For awhile and with determination to not back down from it.

7. Who are some artists that have inspired you?

So when I was 13 I was like, really really into Skyrim. Like. A lot lmao. (And one of the first things i really tried learning how to draw was my skyrim character. )

Anyway, the point of this is that my biggest art influence when i was a kid was Kayla Marquez/thewickwheat on tumblr, who used to do a lot of skyrim oc art, and was very inspirational for me learning how to draw. I feel you can probably still see remenants of that past in the way i draw now. I still seriously recommend checking her stuff out, her character design and linework is phenomoinal to me to this day.

I would say one of my current inspirations, of which im sure is no surprise, is J.C Leyendecker. Specifically in the way he draws clothing. While we obviously have quite different styles, i found our form when it comes to cloothing folds to feel somewhat similar, so i find using his stuff to be very inspirational when it comes to how i approach clothes now, especially suits and shirts.

Beyond that its like... so many artists. Honestly i'd need a whole seperate ramble of a poss just for that alone, and i've already rambled. I have hundreds of photos done by various artists i like saved and sorted across different artstyles on my computer to look at and Be Inspired By. I would say now adays i take a lot of inspiration from Edwardian and Victorian era paintings in general, as im drawing the topics of those contents quite a lot.

Ask Game From Here!

[aconfusedkitten]

so im at a volleyball tournament, and the school is doing a fundraiser for disabilities, and on one hand, it's great! awareness is always good.

on the other hand, there are so many signs that say things along the lines of "not disabled, just differently abled" and that's. not always true.

im not "differently abled" when it's been two years since ive been able to move my hands without it hurting, without being able to support any amount of weight without it feeling like my wrists are gonna break. almost every day i end up wearing two or three braces, and not being able to do every day actions.

it's not differently abled when im constantly wearing long sleeves to hide my braces because i hate the way they make me feel about myself.

and like.

i know that's not how it is for everyone.

but fuck, i hate hearing people say "you're not disabled, just differently abled" when on most days, i can barely hold a pencil.

[zeenbean]

yapping about school, again

a lot as happened since my last ranty post, like that i have gotten B on my final grade from english(as a secondary language) but nobody really follows this blog so much so they would actually know what am i talking about.

in multiple posts ive been whining about my secondary laungage english teacher bcs shes dumb af and doesnt even know english past average 9yo vocabulary(except the slang💀) so when i use my fancy fancy worlds on her(telling her that taking drgs is NOT silly) she ofc gets mad. and that is, how she made my final grade from exact 9 marks from the second semester. 2 of them were group activities(two A`s), 5 quick tests(one A, one B& three Ds) and the rest unit reviews(one A and one B, but the b was my falut bcs im not gonna remember in front of what words u put the, a or nothing. but that were the weird ones like i dunno i cant remember bcs the only ones i remember are the ones that are obvious ones help) im a person who to function needs to have EVERYTHING planned. also when the teachers are all extremely chaotic i cant focus when i have to sit in place where i dont normally sit(i sit there for four years there, last place on the left but idk how other classrooms are build so it differs) its even worse. like this btch will be like so okey i know i said were gonna write the test tomorrow but i dont feel like it so were gonna do it today and than theres me who had planned to study today afternoon bcs it works for this types of tests best for me, also i had to practice on my saxophone yesterday bcs i ALSO had some MORE IMPORTANT EXAMS so now the whole thing is messed up & i have the saxophone exam today but im gonna be stressed form this test and it will completely ruin my day and maybe even a week.

im gonna browse more on the school system in hour school bcs its really messed up. like i wanted to transfer for this year but some therapist-not-therapist who is payed by the school told my mum that that is a not good idea bcs "every school has its dark side" yes. i know. but i asked my friend a simple question. "do your teacher provide materials from the lessons ex. presentations" and she was like EVERY TEACHER DOES THAT. HEAVEN ON EARTH.

like yeah only three from 20+ teachers does that in our school. and were really small school, only one building, the friends school has SIX.

it kinda is related to this and its really me problem but i struggle to keep writing notes in class. like one time i couldnt even get myself to hold the pencil bcs i had a bit dirty notebook(my bottle cracked and everything got wet and as it dried i had stains. so i couldnt write notes in the name notebook but i didnt wanted to buy a new one so i just wrote it who knows where and i was always loosing it. but i feel that the whole idea of notes doest suit me and some other people. i can pay attention, can write it dow beautifully like when i want to i can have the best looking notes in class but WHAT FOR. like it genuinely doesnt help me a bit. i can rewrite it like with the blurting technique but i still forget everything the next hour. and that isnt even with notes, thats with textbooks, some like non fiction books(i love books about like space or sum but i remember shit. like i can remember that on the page five there was this "in some insignificant galaxy(milky way) in some insignificant arm of the galaxy(orion arm)(btw i had to search it up bcs i dont know the exact term in english and it hurts my soul that there in the recommended questions there was "are we in the milky way rn)were rotating around some insignificant star(the sun) and living on some insignificant planet(the earth)" but i dont remember ANYTHING ELSE. LIKE THIS RANDOM THING BUT NOT THE REST OF THE A LOT MORE SIGNIFICANT THINGS?(if anyone recognizes the quote pls don judge me im halp asleep)

okey im not gonna get mad by my inability to absorb information

than when the teacher doesnt even want to help me by giving me like the presentation or like the book where they take these exercises from than its har to be motivated to learn and like in some cases even not able to properly learn the things. i have a friend(that one who i asked about her school) who i literally wish i had her brain bcs were on about the same level of inteligence but she can absorb information like a average human being. like pls help me.

but back to the teacher, there is this one who is really weird, he doesnt really like me but when you email him about anything related to geography he will explain, give sources and you can always ask for like a graded presentation(kinda rare there for someone to give you request presentation). thank you for being the most insufferable person on the whole school but who somehow does his job.

i shouldn't even talk about our principal who is like the embodiment of satan and god of gaslighting in one if someone like that exists. bro will be like "were the BEST school in town!" and than hires a known person who hase fake degrees and has been accused of being predatory towards students. like bro pick i side.(fun fact i one time i got so mad that i went to his facebook under a fake name and started to like spit some real good arguments under his homophobic and transphobic posts and one time i got extra silly and made a bit personal joke and he blocked me💔)

like im so so so much sorry for his ELEVEN FREAKING KIDS and especially the girls bcs he said(in a very insignificant physics lesson) that theyre mistakes. bro how can you be so fucking disgusting towards your own children that you sometimes even bring to school. in front of the whole class.

hey so this is probably it bcs im getting more and more tired and tomorrow i have to wake up really early

also i know my spelling here is completely diabolical but who cares int the internet does anybody here seen th post about how bad english technically doesnt exist? think of that now

[mafufuu]

hihi arte! 3, 17, 19, & 24 for the artist ask game?

hihihi ruya webe been on a call which is silly but i hope youre doing well rn !!

3. your favorite piece(s)?

as of now, my most favorite piece, off the top my head, is the greyscale thing i drew of lucia from tmk. i was messing around with brushes i had saved but never really used and the textures came out nice. i like the work i did on that canvas in general, i felt i got a good hold on her character. i tend to be happy with full body colored stuff i do of characters as of recent. most things i crank up the warmness on for a character and then slap a square bg on i tend to be more than satisfied with. same goes with playing around with brushes. fuuta trash and trash was a fun dabble in trying to recreate another style, and la maine de gloire i like for similar reasons. i hold a fondness for my deep cover william wisp redraw and we outta lightbulbs though that may just stem from a lot of attention on a pice that took a lot of effort

17. what is something youre confident about in your art?

uhhhhhhhhhhhhh i suppose my color choices and stylization. i like toning up the warmness + saturation and lowering the brightness of my art for a cozier feel and i like how it turns out. whenever i do contrast checks (literally just turning a piece to black and white to see if my values are good) the results are pretty good. i think most of the reason why im confident in my stylization is i just kinda like how it looks. some amount of the time i just do doodles that are just linework so i feel like ive gotten comfortable in how i translate things and i also tend to work from references. also ive been told my art style is quite unique and i feel that is the root of it

19. where do you find inspiration?

inspiration! this one is fun! at least for some amount of how i do(/did) eyes and how i color i draw from lavendertowne! her art is very cozy and nice looking, its cartoony but you can see anime influences in it. i think that's probably my main one. i also look up to drawing wiff waffles, she was the first artist i ever really became a fan of! whenever i do pick up alcohol markers (not much nowadays) i make sure to use a colored pencil for sketching. she's prolly also the reason i make sure to carry a kneaded eraser for traditional art. i like watching scott christian sava's videos. being an older artist with more life experience makes him sorta feel like the most mentor-y to me. also he's very nice and some amount active here. yunayuispink is who i mainly use for tutorials. their art style is simple but that is not to say its bad! the colors are nice and the linework is nice. i also like marikyuun's art. her use of linewidth and colored lines makes her work very merchandise-esque as she says. i own a couple studio ghibli art books that i should probably be busting out more for references. their films are very pretty. i also like to take bits and bobs from my moots' art styles that i think are cool. for instance, i think the main reason i tend to gravitate toward thin messy lineart is @/not scorb on here. though i think mine tends to lean messier (or maybe moreso them doing it gave me the confidence to post art like that.) i also take influences from other anime/manga, vaguely, often to the point where i just kinda forget the names. there's probably more but this list is very long already so ill stop

24. whats a compliment about your art that has always stuck with you?

hm. im not really sure. it might be from my bad memory in all honesty but i feel like most of the compliments ive gotten recently just tend to be a "great work!" which i dont mind or take for granted but its not really that descriptive, yknow? actually i remembered one. one time i drew different characters from a thing in chairs i thought suited them (lore rise) sitting based upon their character and i remember someone told me i was talented from the way i portrayed my personalities from how they sit. it really stuck for some reason, i dont know why actually. also being told my art is unique when i was asking my sib to describe my art style bcuz i didnt really know how. it just felt nice to know it was really something that felt like mine !

thank you for the ask !! have a nice rest of your whatever

[nyaitsu-writes]

400 FOLLOWERS SO TRUE!!! Congratulations omgg!! You were like one of my first enstars writing blogs ive stumbled upon and sjdjjd cryien

Waiitt aaa is it ok if i asked for tsukasa with seishun emergency the song really reminds me of honeyworks songs and i just think that tsukasa would definitely fit into their songs so like hehe shoujou - romcom tsukasa

first of all NONNIE YOU LIKE HONEYWORKS TOO? omg ;;; <33 i’ve been their fan since i was. very young. you could say i grew up listening to their songs www and the very first time i listened to seishun emergency i automatically thought of 金曜日のおはよう my vocaloid phase aligned just right with my deep honeyworks phase and i still LOVE this song to pieces... <3 also! the rq is definitely tsukasa x reader but it also features the nicest chiaki trying his best, our very own sporty rival! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ feels like i should write something similar from his pov one day.... i loved writing this sososo much, thank you!!

🌹 8:19. tsukasa’s heart beats just a tiny faster. breathe in. breathe out. 8:20 sharp and the doors in the class open just like every single morning for the past few weeks. he feels his cheeks growing a bit redder, playing with his pencil and looking through the window to try and calm his poor little heart. here you are, again. and the fact that he needs a good few minutes of mental preparation before even saying good morning to you should easily explain his situation…

🌹 let’s go back a bit shall we! because tsukasa thinks of the day you met at least twice per hour and remembers every single detail about it. out of all people, he would have never thought to be the one to have a “love at first sight” moment but he can’t ignore the facts…

🌹 it was a romance movie worthy moment. absolutely cliché. absolutely embarrassing every time you think back at it too, who forgets their umbrella right the day it’s expected to rain? the stormy weather didn’t seem to want to stop even for a moment, so you had no other choice than to sit at the steps in the entrance and stare at the rain lost in thought, hoping there would be a clearing long enough to make a run home.

🌹 then there was a gentle tap on your shoulder, an extended hand your way holding a small foldable umbrella. a smile so bright the sun seemed to pale in comparison, you couldn’t help but stumble upon your own words while muttering a fast thank you. truly, a prince out of a fairy tale!

🌹 and yet the sky was roaring and the rain didn’t seem to stop any time soon, so overcoming your initial surprise you grabbed his sleeve and offered to walk together to the station. tsukasa was silent for a moment before nodding in agreement, you could almost swear his cheeks had flushed for an instant. so there you were. nicely pressed together under an umbrella that was definitely too small for two people, with tsukasa feeling like his heart was much noisier than the storm outside as you walked together for a while.

🌹 there’s undoubtedly something blooming between the two of you. ah, youth love <3 but alas the universe is mean! and has decided that since tsukasa won’t act, he can get a little rivalry as a treat, right? class prince tsukasa, always so gentle and polite vs everyone’s favourite hero, basketball star chiaki. tsukasa can’t even bring himself to look him in the eye (as in, he literally can’t reach chiaki’s height even if he were to try www) but is quick to accept his many strong points. he's a nice person, always looking out for people. and he always makes you laugh so wholeheartedly tsukasa is starting to think that if you were to date chiaki instead of him, (as long as you're happy) he wouldn't really object to it at all.

🌹 wait. is he going to accept defeat just like that? tsukasa, always as civil as usual, doesn't want to bring trouble for him nor his classmates but there's a soft voice at the back of his head telling him not to give up yet. because he can do something. because you’re his very first love and he wants to do things right! it’s his honour as a gentleman —as a knight, telling him to fight for the person he’s devoting his very first love to.

🌹 and so, it becomes a friendly competition. every morning, you sit down in your favourite corner of the class and start counting. one, two, three— and there he is. tsukasa, cheeks flushed over presumably running up the halls, trying to compose himself as fast as he can. he smiles softly and rests his bag on the desk next to yours as if he hadn’t planned any of this, and as soon as he sits on the chair someone else runs into the class. chiaki. he laughs loudly and you can only catch something about "not being fast enough". fast? what for? you look back at tsukasa and he looks back at you with such gentleness your heart can't help but escape a beat. oh. so that's the reason they call him the class prince. oh.

🌹 like someone once said, love is war and all is fair in love and war. but instead of chiaki and tsukasa being at each other’s throats to try and make themselves look better it develops into a “who can make you happier” kind of thing. chiaki will insist on carrying your bag for you when you’re getting ready to leave, tsukasa will randomly propose after-school outings (dates. or so he calls them, with his charming english accent) where he’ll take you into different types of cafes in hidden little corners of town. you’re being aggressively pampered by two genuinely nice people who are doing their very best at winning you over without being forceful.

🌹 so it IS a hard decision. and no one could blame you for struggling with a choice, unless…? your friends nudge you every time they catch you distracted, asking whether you’re thinking about him. because they know. because you’re starting to know too and soon he will as well, as long as you find the courage and the right words to express your feelings. after all, ever since you talked for the first time on that rainy day, your heart has belonged to one single person…

[aeribis]

CONFESSION HCS | Ace & Trey ver.

DESC. the boys realize their feelings for you, how will they plan to confess?

GENRE(S): romance, fluff, friends to lovers (ace and Trey) classmates to lovers (deuce and Floyd) somewhat modern au?

…. Hello hello!! First post! (◍˃̶ᗜ˂̶◍)ﾉ" super excited!

WARNINGS: this is actually really long… so a part two is coming soon! I will also make another version with Floyd, Leona, and Deuce ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

Sitting down in ramshackle after he once again got kicked out of his own dorm, Ace can’t help but sneak glances at your sleeping form. Yes, he knows it’s like 3 in the morning and yes, he knows it’s a school night and he should be asleep by now, but he just can’t help but notice how pretty you look in the moonlight that shines through your window.

Ace knew he was growing something for you after the incident where he got in trouble with Crowley and you had offered to help him with whatever the hell he was doing, god, he can’t even remember what he did, can he? All he can remember is how good you looked that day. It was a formal party you had to go to, he thinks… at least that’s all he can recall from what you told him. You and your stupid, dumb club that he couldn’t stand hearing about but for some reason it seems alright hearing you talk about it. He grabs his phone and texts deuce and cater

3:37 am

ACE: yo!

DEUCE: Wtf do you want.

ACE: damn okay hi to you too 😒 I was just bored

CATER: hello hello!~

DEUCE: must suck. Going back to bed.

ACE: hold uppp!! I need help

CATER: spit it out already!

DEUCE: oh god do I have to get you from ramshackle? Did Grimm kick you out finally?

ACE: like hell I’d let that cat control me. Just got a question.

DEUCE: make it quick

ACE: so, say there’s this person I like. What do I do to make them like me back?

DEUCE: you did not just wake me up for this.

CATER: OHHH MY GOD IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS. LETTERS LETTERS LETTERS! LOVE LETTERS ARE SOOO ROMANTIC!

Ace took a look at that message, and verbally scoffed.

ACE replied to CATER: the hell is a letter gonna do?

CATER: it’s romantic! Just give it a try!

Ace sat down and thought, fuck it. He’s not brave enough to come up to you in your face and confess. He fished around in your room quietly and quickly to grab a piece of paper and a pencil.

ACE: what do I say? How do I start?

CATER: say how nice they are! How pretty you find them!

Ace looked down at the paper. Damn, he doesn’t wanna start with some ‘your secret admirer’ cringe stuff. But he’s still nervous about how this might ruin your friendship. He settles on writing the letter the best he could. He places it on your desk and cuddles up to you for the rest of the night hoping you’ll like the letter in the morning.

Trey was no idiot, he knew that the first time he saw you he couldn’t deny that you were absolutely stunning to him. But he didn’t want to seem like a dude who just wanted you for your looks, he wanted to take the time to actually know you and what your like. Even though you two have remained friends this whole time, his feelings only grew stronger and stronger throughout the year. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who noticed his growing feelings.

“When are you going to confess to y/n?” Cater said as him and Trey were painting the white roses red. “W-what?” “You heard me. Oh come on, don’t tell me you thought that I didn’t notice! The way you act gives it all away.” Trey was shocked. Does he really act that different around you?

“Uh- well… I actually don’t know. Never thought of confessing..” Trey replied. “WHAT?! Trey. You’ve been looking at them since they arrived!” “I know I know, but I just.. don’t know how! I know everything about them except what they actually like in a relationship.” Cater couldn’t believe what he was hearing right now. Trey? His friend since he’s known since he first arrived? Actually not knowing what to do for once? He was shocked. “Well… why don’t you try baking them something? You know y/n loves your treats.” Trey looks back at cater, he was right! How could he be so dense.

I FUCKING HATE THIS. 😐 but best friend cater headcanons coming soon 😩



[burnedbyshoto]

good little omega

— He was an alpha, you were an omega. Can I make it anymore obvious? He was a crime boss and you were a movie star. What more can I say? Oh, he wanted you, really wanted you, but you swore you would never, ever need an alpha.

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pairing: alpha!shigaraki tomura x omega fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, abo/omegaverse, chad alpha!shiggy, virgin celeb!reader, kidnapping, drugging, sex slave auction, biting/marking, belly bulge, knotting, sex toys, heat, implied murder (lol rip shigsters last omegas), mind break, breeding, degradation, finger fucking, fucking in front of a crowd, modern world!au

word count: 6,174

a/n: this goes out to my shiggy stans. I never understood you until recently and now I blush like a schoolgirl when I see him. mondays are so busy, are they not? ive been home for 6 hours today wtf????

kinktober day 12 main kink: abo/omegaverse | kinktober masterlist

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You sat before the mirror, your eyes intently staring at your reflection. The people around you running around, chaotically bringing brushes and pencils to your face, the smell of chemicals in the air, tickling your overly sensitive nose. 

“Are we ready?! Is Y/n ready?! I don’t think she’s ready?! We need to be out of here in five minutes, people, let’s hurry it up!”

Breaking your gaze from your reflection onto your agent in the background, you sighed softly at the growing sour and distressed omega pheromones. Oh, you realized suddenly, your nose unable to keep from scrunching at the mildewy detergent scent, they were really stressed out.

Today was the night of the biggest award show one could attend as a movie star celebrity in Japan. The Motion Picture Awards gave only the most prestigious and prodigious actors and actresses their due. A night of fashion, alcohol, and nervous pheromone pumping alphas and betas in a single room to reveal who was the best this year. Working in an industry such as your own, you had become quite the living legend already at the mere age of twenty-two.

As an omega, you grew up in a society that banned you from enlisting or attempting to join the ranks of the best in just about every field of focus or study. So that even included the area of acting. Casting Directors had always said the same thing each and every time you were forced to present your secondary gender to them all when being called back for auditions.

‘Omegas can’t be movie stars, your heats are too often and too long, they cause rifts in filming schedules this project cannot afford.’

‘We have too many prime alphas on set. Our film's projected main character is an alpha, we wouldn’t want to be caught up in a lawsuit should she find you to be too… fertile.’

‘Omegas can only be good, suitable nurtures and well, mothers. This movie just seems a bit too intense for a little omega like you!’

Omegas can’t do this, omegas can’t do that. Alphas, the pride of society, couldn’t be made to hold themselves back to your alluring scent and occasional heats. Betas, the majority of the population, didn’t feel a challenge when working alongside omegas. Omegas? Well, if there were any that actually existed within the film industry, they were for sure never heard from, or seen of.

At the age of eighteen, you had nearly given up on your long aspiring desire to become the first omega actor or actress to ever grace the scene. But just as you were ready to tell your agent that you were tired of all of the same, repetitive bullshit, a gentle alpha had approached you with an exciting role in mind for you.

Movies and cinematic films had always showcased omegas as sweet, nurturing individuals. For the most part, you agreed that that’s how you omegas were. You enjoyed hugging your close friends, scenting them softly as means of a small pack you had created as none of you were mated this young, yet didn’t ever wish to be bothered by self-righteous alphas or betas. Through many, many biology courses revolving around your secondary gender, you knew that the hormones that made you an omega also affected the brain to accept and view things in a… softer light. But unlike what they taught in school, and unlike what the alphas in society knew about omegas as they could never honestly watch an omega in heat while alone, was that omegas weren’t always the most nurturing or kind.

The week before your heat, the week of, and the week following your heat, you were always irritable, angry, almost cold. You’d flash your small fangs at anyone who dared to approach you with a scent you hated, your heat room never once escaping with everything torn to shreds, and you definitely did not wish to seek any fiber of soft love.

So when the alpha male sat in front of you, a single fang poking out of his lip as he exposed his neck in a motion of vulnerability and conceding to you — the omega — you knew he was serious.

He explained to you his plan on creating a more realistic movie surrounding the brutal truths of what being a single omega was like. Films had, after all, had always depicted omegas as being mated the moment they presented and going as far as saying that there were others means to be coupled to other alphas without actually being marked. It was atrociously wrong of the omega lifestyle, and it always made your stomach curl to see that it was an alpha or a beta actor putting on the role.

But he wanted to focus on the realities. The anger, sadness, and horrors you could face as a single, unmated omega. The director raved that you were the face for that movie and had a soul that made him come seek you out. And without so much as consultation from your agent, you agreed on the spot.

The title of the film had been an ironic one. Good Little Omega was what it was called in the end.

All in all, the movie had done poorly in the eyes of the critics. Many individuals — namely alphas and betas — claimed that the depiction of omegas within the film had been horribly wrong. Omegas were never sad, never homeless, never abandoned by society! That’s what they had all cried the moment the trailer flashed with bright letters:

AND INTRODUCING: Y/L/N Y/N (Ω)

Still, the movie made billions as many went to watch it because they ‘needed to see how horrible the movie was.’ They wanted proof that omegas weren’t cut as movie stars because how could someone who was out of commission for a week every two months be proactive on set. But all they got was a cinematic masterpiece.

You had taken a claim in the industry, one while small, that hadn’t hurt that much because you were much more focused on the fact that you now were a household name. Well, that is until you were nominated for the awards ceremony you were currently about to attend, only that it was the one from four years ago.

You were the first omega actress and now the first omega nominee. You hadn’t won, but that had solidified the step you had in the door. After that, the interests to hire you in omega roles came pouring through the door.

But you were brought back to reality when the setting spray splashed against your face, your eyes fluttering when they covered your scent glands with the flesh-colored band-aids they got for you. Alphas could never complain about you being a distraction if you smelled the same as betas. 

Rising to your feet, you smiled graciously to your makeup and styling team, thanking them profusely as your agent placed her hand at the small of your back and began pushing you towards the exit.

“Goodluck!”

“Thank you!”

.

..

.

Shigaraki glared down the table of averted eyes, and his hands brought up under his chin twitched at his annoyance.

“Are you going to say anything, or are we going to remain silent?” he asked, his voice quiet yet heavy in all of their ears as they flinched. “Don’t think you’re going to get away without giving me an answer.”

The sour smell of fearful alphas should have corroded Shigaraki’s nose. It should have done something to unsettle the way that the young head sat on his black leather seat. But as a matter of fact, the young alpha had to resist the way he wanted to bare his teeth in a bloodied smile, his red eyes slit in his cruel lust for fear.

“O-Of course not, a-alpha!” croaked one of the smaller alphas down the table. Shigaraki snapped his eyes towards the yellow-haired croony, his neck exposed for the alpha, eyes refusing to look at his leader. “I-It’s just that, um, I — I mean, we don't know w-what happened to your mate!”

“I thought I gave clear and distinct instructions that you were supposed to have found them by this meeting,” Shigaraki stated, his voice somehow growing colder, meaner yet never once changing as his hands dropped from his chin to rest on the arms of his chair. He tilted his head, watching the pathetic alphas quiver like some scared, stupid omega. “Useless. Get out of here before I change my mind on killing you all where you sit.”

The crowd of alphas left quicker than Shigaraki could blink, leaving behind the reeking smell of scared alpha pheromones. 

“Tomura-kun, you killed your mate,” came the singsong giggle from behind him, and Shigaraki didn’t bother turning around, his nose and ears sharp enough to pick up exactly it was behind him. 

“They’re all a bunch of pissy lackeys,” Shigaraki simply stated, his eyes rolling as he slowly fell to the back of his chair, red eyes meeting golden ones that shone with mirth and joy. “What do you want, Toga?”

Toga leaned against the leather armrest, uncaring that Shigaraki hated his personal space invaded. The young female was an alpha, much like most of the people within this gang group, but unlike the others, she had a distinct, almost terrifying way to change the way she smelled. She could smell like anyone or any secondary gender. She often preferred to smell like an omega too. 

“We have a guest visiting us today!” Toga chirped, her fingers clasping together. “I wanted to introduce him!”

“Bring Giran in,” Shigaraki snapped, his eyes narrowing with no real malice for the alpha next to him who simply pouted at the surprise — not a surprise — being ruined. Giran reeked of cigarettes and cheap body sprays that, when wafted with his distinct omega pheromones, made Shigaraki want to throw up. “Hurry up.”

“UGH!”

Shigaraki’s mouth was set in a firm line, his eyes watching as one of his most trusted allies walked to the table, and taking a seat in the abandoned chairs as Toga purred in happiness, sitting on the armchair of Giran’s chair, arms enveloping him. 

“Shigaraki, how are you doing?” Giran smiled, the cigarette that seemed to take a permanent residence in his teeth moving with his words. “I came bearing some great news.”

“What do you have for me?” Shigaraki simply states, his eyes focusing on the letter that is unpocketed from Giran’s pockets and placed onto the table. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to sell me your omega niece again.”

Giran chuckled, looking at Toga, who was smirking softly, “I guess he still hates that joke, huh?”

“Absolutely livid!” Toga laughed.

Shigaraki growled, his mind and his inner alpha snarling at the lack of respect to the command of his question. He outranked them, outpowered them; they needed to respect his orders. 

Giran took a deep inhale of his cigarette, sliding the card over to Shigaraki, his eyes averted, but his stance still firm. “I know you go through omegas faster than a teenage boy goes through a pack of tissues, but I think this can answer the pleas you have at night.”

Observing the card in his hand, Shigaraki scowls, unsure of how to feel about the print on the invitation. 

“Say the word, and I’ll get you a seat,” Giran whispers, like a sinister god begging a mere mortal to sign over their life for something completely worthless. But Shigaraki knows his worth, and more importantly, he knows in this game he outranks Giran, who would never betray him. In the slightest. He huffs, his back hunched, and his eyes looking with subdued excitement. 

“Who else is showing up?”

Giran knows the seat will be wanted that instant.

“No one who could hold a candle to you, alpha.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“Of course not, my liege.”

.

..

.

The award sitting in your hand feels almost fake as if the entire night was nothing more than a heat-driven fever dream. You had won, had actually won the most significant award of the night that an actress could win!

“Oh my gods, okay, okay,” your agent muttered beside you. Her eyes glued to the shiny gold statue between your legs. “Well, I know your heat starts tomorrow, and I’ll leave you alone for a week. But I swear, y/n, as soon as your mind isn’t a full-blown lusty heat brained bimbo, we’ll reconvene, and we will make sure you are nothing but the greatest!”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly state, eyes transfixed on the prize that felt like it could melt away any second right now. “That sounds wonderful.”

The car you were in pulled up to your front door, and you felt meek excited the car in nothing but a silk robe and slippers. The dress you had worn that night had already been put back into a plastic bag to be returned to the stylist who had offered to style you for the night. You waved with an almost transfixed look in your eyes as you closed your front door behind you, your heart hammering as adrenaline still coursed through your veins as if you had just been declared the victor of the category yet again.

Placing the trophy onto the table, you sighed in a wondrous, dreamy way.

You had done it.

You had won.

Fuck all those directors who had ever said anything different.

Still deep in your thoughts, you almost missed the knock on your door, and you figured that you must have left something in the car. Walking back over to the front door, your nose curled at the lack of scent, was it a beta?

Opening the door, you don’t remember seeing faces or even a scent of a pheromone. A single cloth wrapped over your head, and before you could send out your painful, fearful moments-from-heat omega pheromones, you were knocked out.

Cold and lifeless, you sunk against their arms, bile rising up to your throat as you know exactly what was going on. You were being kidnapped. 

No… please not… not after all of this had happened.

.

..

.

You wake up to the sound of moving feet, sneering laughter, the feeling of coarse, hot, hands on your ass and wet, simmering tongues on your lubricated cunt. The sense is vivid. You can feel the very littlest touch on your body, the layer of scented pheromones on your glands, and slick from alphas — you know it's alphas imprinting themselves on you as a mark of a claim.

You knew about this from high school; it was an extremely outdated and frowned upon version of mating and claiming as it simply turned away any sort of pursuer who wasn’t the thick pheromone individual. You also knew it was frowned upon because if multiple individuals sought mateship with the typical omega individual, it would result in a massive, unsolvable death match. But these alphas, even with layering their scent on you so thick you thought you were turning crazy, didn’t attack. No, they took languid stripes of your fresh, intoxicating slick and growled to you, maybe, how that was how slick was supposed to be. 

You wanted to move, to kick the stupid, demeaning alphas in the snout before running away, but in a twist of horrible realization, you soon figured out that despite your alert mind, you couldn’t move your body. Couldn’t shift it even the smallest of bits. 

“I hope all you wonderful clients have been able to taste and smell your potential mates out here!” A loud, commanding introduction voice echoed from somewhere where you couldn’t see, his voice vibrating into the straps of your legs, but you couldn’t make a sound or even open your eyes. “As you know, we have such an arrangement for you all, the best of the best, really! We don’t wish to rush, but as always, all of these events are incredibly time-sensitive, so if you would, please alphas, please come and sit down, and we’ll begin bidding on our first of seven beautiful, fertile omegas tonight!” 

The words sounded foreign in your ears yet at the same time, something so familiar because this was something you omegas were always warned about. This had to be some sort of omega mate auction, and by the stench of alphas who smelled like they owned millions and killed millions, you were in no doubt somehow caught up in one of the worst ones imagined. 

Two long, completely hardened fingers suddenly entered your cunt, and as if for a single millisecond, your mind and your body were able to work in tangent, your hips bucked at the sweet feelings. Oh, your eyes tried to flutter, enjoying the way the two fingers circled the walls of your long lonely cunt.

“Please, alpha, please refrain from touching the merchandise for now, please join us so that we may begin!”

The two fingers buried within your cunt as if it was their right, slowly withdrew out of your pulsing walls, and you heard the sound of sneakers against the hardwood floor and felt relaxed and sickened at how you sort of liked it.

Heat brain, you reminded yourself. Just your stupid, horny heat brain.

You were a celebrity, you mantra, a dignified star who didn’t need a beta or an alpha unless you saw it fit. Right now, as you had repeated many times to the countless amounts of reporters who had asked, you had no interest in someone to share your heat with.

“Alright, and to start off our night in a rolling go! Please, everyone put your hands together for the fertile and beautiful thirteenth in-line the Princess of Cabodia: Dayanara!”

This auction was insane, all six omegas before you all sold from a price that ranged from 198 hundred million to the one right before you who sold for one billion dollars. You were a prideful omega, and you saw worth to your abilities, smell, and looks, but were you even worth anywhere in that range?

The entire time you had been set up in who knows what, the small, overwhelming pound of your heat sinking into the depths and pores of your body was becoming heavy. You couldn’t move a single muscle still, your body still refusing to respond to the call of your body, but the seep of your slick running down the innards of your thighs, undoubtedly beginning to pool on the ground, must be embarrassing of you. 

Suddenly someone spread the skin below your ass out, and you couldn’t react as something sharp and prick stabbed into your flesh. You howled in the surprising pain, and you were fast to find that whatever they had injected you with had allowed systematic movement within your body. Your eyes fluttered open as two, impossibly huge alphas grabbed you by your forearm and hoisted you to your feet. 

Your neck was far too weak to carry the weight of your head, so your eyes were transfixed on the white silk of the slutty dress they dressed you in. It showed off your cleavage with no regret, and by the feel and look of it, it barely passed the bottom of your ass. Your vision swam, the alphas all over the room distorted and melting within one another as you stepped onto a stage, the spotlight on you feeling deliriously hot and melting your skin.

Your hormones, already going crazy with your heat, seemed to intensify at the small of so many capable, potent, possessive alpha pheromones that suffocated the room. Handcuffs slapped onto your wrists, and you moaned pathetically at the sting of cold metal on your skin, and you obediently followed the command of one alpha to go on your knees. 

A nail slammed between the metal links of the handcuffs, practically stapling you to the wooden floor, and you whimpered at the feeling of a stuffed pillow mount being placed beneath your lower stomach. You were in a forced and easily accessible mating position with your slick and cunt exposed for all the alphas to re-smell and see. 

Moaning, you shifted against the mount, your body not able to have the full movement you needed to ward off that building, insufferable heat in your core, but nothing you could do seemed to satisfy it.

“And for our biggest prize of the night, we have the one, the only, the beautiful sensation Y/l/n Y/n!” the auctioneer roared. His voice echoing in your ear as he walked over to you, exposing your dripping cunt to the crowd of alphas who had all gotten a sweet taste of your essence already. His hand came down to slap your ass with a chuckle. “Where do we start the bidding on this one, alphas? She needs no introduction, and none of you better be pussies because we know this bitch of an omega won’t take any tiny cocks as her alpha! She needs to be broken in, fucked to submission. No one likes a trailblazer… someone needs to remind of what fucking trail she’s supposed to be on. Besides, the bitch is in fucking heat, and if you don’t claim her, I just might do it myself!”

“75 million!” someone started the bidding.

You stiffened.

“75 to the man in the back!”

“90 million!” someone challenged.

“We’re up to 90!”

“125 million!”

“Do I hear another offer?”

“250 million!”

“250 million!”

The number climbed and climbed, the same voices coming to challenge each other until finally, they rounded out to a quantity that sounded bizarre even to you. 

“950 million!”

If it had been possible for your knees to give out, you would have been collapsed onto the floor, the pool of slick that continued to lubricate your cunt without a doubt drowning you as you craved the need to be fucked by someone with undoubted alpha pheromones and cock in this room. 

“950 million?” the auctioneer repeated, his voice for sure carrying a shark-like grin. “Going once, going twice—”

“Five billion.”

The gasp in the crowd was undeniable, and the omega in you crooned, knowing that this alpha valued you and your omega to be the price of five billion US dollars. 

“Fuck!” screamed the man who had presented the 950 million deal. 

“Wowee, five billion dollars, everyone! Anyone think they can beat that?! Going once! Going twice!” The crowd remained in silence, and you shook against your restraint, the heat emitting from your cunt almost demanding to be seen and fucked through this heat week. “SOLD! The virgin celebrity, Y/l/n Y/n sold to our own Shigaraki Tomura!”

The cheers of amaze weren’t nearly as loud as the smell of reeking petty alpha.

“Come and pay up, alpha, and then you can show us… a demonstration of how you’re going to break this omega.”

“Shut up.” Shigaraku growled, his footsteps heavy in your ear as you feel him climb up the stage, and you weakly tilted your head to look at the white-haired alpha boss hand over a simple credit card before walking over to you, his eyes unreadable as he looked you dead in the eye.

He reached out a finger that raised your chin up for him to study your face, moving and tilting your head as he pleased as a small, sinister smile pressed to his lips as he dropped your head. A sharp, uncomfortable pain fell on your chin as it crashed to the floor, and you shivered at the feeling of his calloused and rough fingers running down your exposed back.

“You’re such a small omega, still stupidly tiny. I bet you’ve never thought your first knot would come from someone like me,” Shigaraki laughed, his fingers and voice ice cold. His words were soft, spoken in a way that had your omega stupidly cooing for having secret conversations with your alpha who promised to fuck you till you were carrying a litter of pups. “I hope you realize that this is real life, that I will break you, and no hero in this world will be able to fucking save you.”

“Fuck the omega!” someone from the crowd screamed, and Shigaraki glared upwards. Still, you shivered in the thought of this alpha who spent five billion dollars to make you his claiming you, fucking your stupid heat brain into mush in front of these smaller, irrelevant alphas. 

“I’ll do what I fucking please,” Shigaraki snapped, but the fingers you remembered to have been the last ones to enter your slicked crazy walls seemed to be his. They moved deep within you, curling and spreading your tight, sopping wet cavern apart, letting your pathetic, chirping cries echo powerfully in the room as lusting, near rutting alpha pheromones filled the room. “For fucks sake, omega, your pussy’s fucking tight as shit! Don’t you have any real knotted toys?”

You couldn’t respond back, your body on the road to a complete shut down at the feeling of something other than silicone deep within your body, fingering and dragging against your pheromone soaked walls.

“Alpha, y-your fingers feel so good!” you gasp, your hips thrusting backward, enjoying the way his fingernails press onto your warm velvet walls. “So good, you make me feel so good already.”

“I’ve seen you all over the news,” Shigaraki growled low into your ear. “Talking about how you didn’t want an alpha, how you never needed to feel the tightness that a fat knot could bring you, and look at you now. I’ve barely touched you, barely begun to make you mine, and yet you’re already begging for me, omega.”

Your arms tug at the handcuffs, pathetically wanting them off. Exasperatedly seeking more friction from your newly bought alpha. You can’t think straight, can’t come up with a single response except the stupid apologetic, “I’m so sorry alpha, I didn’t know i-it would be y-you!”

“Don’t be shy on her, Shigaraki! Fuck the slutty omega already! Fucking knot and claim her in front of us, I want to hear the omega whore scream. It’s always hotter when it’s the first claim ever!”

“You better learn how to shut the fuck up, or I’ll kill you for interrupting my fucking session here,” Shigaraki seethed, his red, smoldering eyes ripping from yours and glaring at some loser alpha behind you. You couldn’t care. You only wanted what looked like the growing cock in Shigaraki’s pants; you wanted to feel the cock fill up your cunt, and his knot to lock you both in place.

You drooled at the thought, your loud, whimpering cries unable to keep from pouring out as the slick from your core seemed to pour endlessly from your pussy, demanding attention and a knot. “Breed me, fill me with your pups,” you begged fingers taking in his dirty fingers in your mouth, tongue wildly and uncontrollably flicking across his fingers in hopes it would be a sinking prayer of your promise to be good. “I want your knot, alpha, I want these stupid alphas to know you’re so much better than them~!”

Shigaraki’s once snarl fell when he looked at you, a slowly growing smirk falling on his face as his lips spread into a cruel smirk, one that had you moaning around his fingers as he pinched the pink muscle in your mouth before disappearing before you.

“I smelled your distress when I put my fingers up your sloppy little cunt right before the auction happened; I could tell even with your growing heat that you hated the feeling of my fingers up your pretty pussy. But look at you now, I haven’t even set you on my goddamn knot, haven’t stretched that tiny cunt to its max. You’re smelling better than a bitch in heat,” Shigaraki growled in your ear. His clothed chest pressing deliriously into your exposed back, the huge cock outline in his pants grinding incessantly into your wet core, undoubtedly leaving a damp patch where his cock ground into you. “You’re an actress, aren’t you, little omega? I bet you just needed this audience cheering your name to break your mind over this. How. Pathetic.”

And the pressure on your tongue is gone, the drool and saliva sticky and cold on your chin as you whimper for your alpha. You promised that it wasn’t right, it was just that you had been scared before, but your alpha was so strong, his pheromones so scary and mean, he could protect you and fill you up with so many pups you couldn’t help but to be excited now.

The smell of Shigaraki seemed to brighten, and you moaned when his hands pressed the white dress up, allowing for your naked ass to be seen by him and everyone who stayed to watch. Shigaraki squeezed your asscheeks away, chuckling at the way your small asshole clenched in your embarrassment and pain at how your hormone-driven heat demanded that he fuck you and knot you now.

“So fucking wet,” Shigaraki observed, his fingertips tracing the slick on your folds before a small pop told you that he licked you clean from his fingers. “Such sweet slick too, you really are a prime omega, little one.”

You whimpered, ass shaking for him to continue to touch you, to continue to fuck you more. 

“I don’t think you’re ready for my knot, precious omega,” Shigaraki taunted, and his words were a sealing deal in your lusting mind. Your hips knocking backward in some sort of desperation for more.

“She won’t,” commented the auctioneer.

“I will!” you scream, eyes filled with painful tears that could only be resolved with your alphas knot and claim. “I can take your knot, alpha!”

Shigaraki makes a small noise, and you choke at the feeling of something huge, nearly monstrous, shift into your cunt. You were a virgin, but even you knew that it was merely the head of his alpha thick cock, not enough for you to be satisfied, not far enough in you to breed or fuck you properly. All the moans in your throat were slightly painful, and the tears in your eyes continued to fall as you rocked your hips backward, trying to sink yourself further on his cock, wanting him deep in your womb.

You craved him.

“Ah, good, you can take more,” came the airy, almost insane driven coo of Shigaraki, the lack of humor making your cunt flutter against his thick, long cock. “Cry for your alpha, little omega.”

With that, Shigaraki slammed into you with no mercy, his cock bottoming out into you with a powerful, edging thrust. You screamed in pain, tears leaking from your eyes, and even with the pool of lubricating slick, his cock was far too big, incredibly thick that you felt your inner walls splitting in two as he fucked you as if you weren’t in delirious pain.

Drool and tears covered your arms, your painted fingers digging into the floorboards with crazy strength that you clawed scars on the floor as Shigaraki rutted deep within you.

Shigaraki commanded you with every thrust he gave, and soon the omega in you was cooing, howling for more, the pain of having your virginity ripped from right under you having become bubbling, glowing pleasure. You screamed in pleasure, Shigaraki grabbing onto your rolling hips to slam you back onto his cock, allowing for his thick cock to hit deep within you over and over again. The angle and power he possessed with every thrust were almost inhumane, nothing your lonely heat filled nights could ever dream of recreating ever. Shrill moans and pleas drowned out the annoying commentary of your onlookers, Shigaraki’s chest still flushed against your back, his hips landing heavily on your ass that was at this point raised because of the mount beneath you. 

“My alpha,” you babble, eyes unfocused, hazy, and incredibly heavy as you stared at some point on the wall, overwhelmed with the feeling of Shigaraki’s hot cock pounding in you. “My alpha, such a good alpha. His cock is making my tummy feel funny, making my pussy feel so tight. Please fill me with your children, I’ll be a good omega to you and them, I promise! I promise — I — oh myyy goddd — I promise, alpha!!!”

Shigaraki puffs up with the praise, but he continued to fuck into you roughly, mercilessly, as if you were nothing more than the breeding whore omega that he had purchased you for. The wet slaps and satisfying squelches rang in the blazing heat room, the smell of the pleasured and heat insane omega saturating deeply within his nose, and in the other's nose, the prideful smell of a satisfied alpha.

Your spongy walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating, pounding cock, sometimes even forcibly because, by god, it was hot when his cock would twitch within your womb, especially against your cervix.

“Fuck, you’re so damn annoying,” Shigaraki snarled into your ear, his teeth biting and scraping along your neck, and you wailed when his teeth dragged over the sweet scent gland on your neck. The one and only place for mating bites to go. His hand gripped your hair, tugging your head back so that you could feel his rough facial skin rub up against yours. “If you want me to fill you with my pups, you better be the best fucking omega on this goddamn planet.”

“I can be the best! I’ll be the best!” you cried, your ass shifting backward to meet his drilling hips. 

The delirious sensation of his cock rocking against your cervix slowly begins to inflate the knot on his cock, restricting his still barbaric thrusting as he made to move faster. He wanted you to cum before he knotted entirely within you. 

The pressure in your stomach is scorching and impossibly tight, and he takes another long stripe at your scent gland. You tremble with need, your fingers tearing into the wooden floors. You can feel the knot on his cock swelling up, catching onto the opening of your cunt with every successive cunt, and you begin to cry, shake, and tremble as the knot becomes too big.

Your eyes cross, your tongue falling out of your mouth as you babble his name. Your walls clamp around his knotted cock with the ferocity of a vice, and your body jerks violently as you cum hard around his cock. The slick essence of your orgasm slipping out of the few lasting places open before Shigaraki’s knot fills you out entirely. Despite his cock unable to move, the swollenness of his knot preventing him from moving out of you, Shigaraki still shoves his weight into his hips, the inflated knot stretching your cock out so widely, your vision went white, and you came yet a second time.

A small pop was heard, and suddenly with a rush of thick, hot, and heavy white cum exploded within your womb, his teeth sink around your scent gland, marking you — mating you. He filled you, filled you, and filled you. His cum wouldn’t stop until your belly was swollen with his hot cum, and he eventually fell off of you with a shaky, shallow breath.

You still remained on the mount, your eyes unfocused, breaths mumbling to your alpha, a promise to carry out every single pup he gave you and would give you. You were his omega, his good little omega, and you would never disappoint your alpha. Not now, not ever.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The next week, you opened your door with a broad smile, your usual clothes replaced with a dress Shigaraki had picked for you and a frilly white apron on as your agent was standing outside of your house, eyes wide, mouth gaped at the still bleeding mate wound on your shoulder.

“Ah, how funny!” you laughed, waving your hand as you sighed dreamily, your eyes fluttering at the thought of your alpha who was on a business call right now. “I’m actually going to be quitting! My alpha and I have many plans right now, I gotta produce as many litters as I can, being an actress would never give me this sort of meaning in life!”

“B-But, you’re doing so much?! You have so much to do! You can’t give up?!”

“Oh, my love, we both know that I look much cuter with a pregnant belly! Don’t worry,” you smile, taking your agent's hand, brightly smiling at her one last time. “I’m sure all omegas will eventually find their alpha so they won’t be so depressed and angry like I was!”

Your agent doesn’t get another word in.

You slam the door in her face, your hands already resting on your belly that you knew was already growing the life of your first litter of pups. It had been known the second Shigaraki filled you up anymore.

You were a good little omega, and your alpha needed you!

[spencerspecifics]

HI HI HI PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE MOREID AT PRIDE AND SOME PINING AND SPENCER THINKS DEREK IS STRAIGHT BUT HE ISN'T AND THEY KIIIITTTTTHHHHH

I absolutely love your energy fuck yes!! I’m so sorry this took forever, ive got school, work and some other personal things happening so I appreciate your patience!

No TW, B u t, a creep hits on Spencer at pride, so if that is upsetting please note that! Thanks :)

———————————————————————

Pride

———————————————————————

Garcia had been pestering Spencer about going to pride for the past week now, and it was slowly driving him insane.

He used almost every excuse he could think of. When he first turned her down, he had simply said, “Sorry, I’m going to be busy that week.” And of course, Garcia being Garcia, she stole his calendar to see what he was busy with (spoiler alert: he had nothing. Except a reminder to go grocery shopping, and email some professors and research scientists back).

So, she persisted, and he came up with a dozen more excuses; “I was considering flying out to see my mom”, “The local museum has a new interactive archeology exhibit for adults, and I want to learn more about ancient structures”, “I have to do a presentation on thermodynamics”.

None of those excuses work, as she sniffed out every lie, “Spencer, you hate flying to Vegas last minute, that archaeology exhibit has been open for months, and your calendar is empty!”

So with her persistence, and legitimate bullying, Spencer found himself finally agreeing. “Fine, but come over to my apartment before we leave so you can help me.” After all, he wasn’t really familiar with pride parades, and what the scene was like there. He was going to be a fish out of water, he already knew that for certain.

~

True to her word, Garcia showed up an hour before the pride parade was set to start, carrying a coffee in each hand- how she possibly knocked on his apartment door, Spencer didn’t know.

“I brought you a pick me up, that way you have no excuse to be in a bad mood!” She spoke in her signature sing song voice as Spencer let her inside, she barreled in like a hurricane. God, Spencer wasn’t ready for this.

“Thanks..” Spencer decided to reply with that lame response, and not with what he was actually thinking. He took the coffee from her wordlessly as she stepped in further, going to sit down on his couch.

“You excited?” Garcia asked as she set her cup down on his cluttered coffee table. Reid just shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t do great with crowds.”

“But you do great with disarming murderers?” “You know that’s different-” Spencer said, doing his best to argue, “Reid it is literally not. Both are anxiety inducing, but one is life or death, and it’s not pride. So you can do this.”

Spencer sighed, resigning himself to not arguing with Garcia. Because she was right, though at times her arguments sounded wild. He just had to get over this anxiety and show up at pride, he could do this, right?

~

Wrong. So, very, wrong. They had left his apartment with thirty minutes to spare, deciding to walk over to where pride was being held- as it was only a few blocks away in a public park.

And as soon as they got there, Spencer wanted out. There were so many people, more than he estimated (and his estimations were usually spot on.), and there was just chaos everywhere. Music, dancing, shouting, singing, drag queens running around happily. Spencer wasn’t sure what to do. He was out of his element.

Garcia seemed to sense that, though, as she dragged Spencer over to some stalls that sold pride flags, pins, and other miscellaneous pride related things.

“C’mon Reid, why don’t you look around and find something you like?” She offered up, something for him to do- something for him to stay busy with. He could do that. Spencer nodded simply, Garcia stayed by his side- looking at pride related wear for herself.

~

Spencer ended up deciding on a small pin that simply said; “love all”, planning to stick it on his messenger bag strap. Garcia bought a pin as well, but hers just had her pronouns on them; “she/her/hers”.

Looking at all the pride apparel was a good distraction for Spencer, he felt a lot more calmer now- though that didn’t stop him from feeling like he stuck out like a sore thumb. He’s just not familiar with this world, and it’s awkward to suddenly be in the middle of it.

Spencer was in the middle of looking at another booth that sold flags, possibly considering buying himself a small one to stick in his pencil cup at work, because Garcia left him to go compliment a drag queen- when a voice broke through.

“Hey, pretty boy!”

That was a voice all too familiar, what on earth was Morgan doing here? Spencer looked up at him as he made his way towards him. “Hey,” Spencer spoke awkwardly. Not sure what to say.

Spencer was gay. He was fine with admitting he was gay, but he hadn’t really told the team. He thought they figured it out on their own. And they probably had, but still, having his coworker see him at a pride event- it was anxiety inducing.

“What’re- what’re you doing here?” Spencer asked, stumbling over his words as he dropped the small flag he was holding back onto the vendors table.

“Oh, well I’m on the local PFLAG committee. I’m just here to hand out flyers and stuff. But I’m glad to see you’re here, I’m guessing Garcia’s here too?” He asked Spencer casually, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Spencer.

He was on the PFLAG committee? Why? To help queer people, obviously, but that had to mean he was gay or something- Spencer couldn’t stop his mind from coming up with every possible answer to why Derek was on the committee.

Spencer just nodded in response, he moved himself back from the vendors table to get out of the way, so other customers could look at the flags being sold.

“Yeah, she’s- there.” Reid pointed her out, as if on cue she came out of the thick crowd that had started to gather back up, the parade portion of pride had concluded by now, and people were coming over to the vendors section.

“Hey, Babygirl!” Derek called over to her, and Garcia somehow lit up with a smile brighter than the one she was wearing before, “Well, hey!” She responded enthusiastically, walking up swiftly to give Derek a quick embrace, which he happily returned.

“I wasn’t sure how long you were staying for, but I’m glad I caught you!” Garcia started rambling to Derek, about how the drag queen she met was so nice; “Her name was Mysteria Hysteria. Isn’t that genius?”.

~

Spencer just stepped back from them both, not sure what to do, not sure if he fully belonged. Pride was a nice event, it was. But the longer he stood around, the more he felt like he should be leaving. Everyone was laughing and smiling, everyone was just happy. And Spencer couldn’t stop racking his brain. In the beginning, he couldn’t stop thinking because of his anxiety, but now he was searching his brain for a reason why Derek was here and what it meant.

Of course, a stupid large portion of Spencer’s mind went to “maybe Morgan likes men”, and then an even larger and stupider portion of his mind had the absurdity to think; “maybe he’s interested in me”. Which Spencer did not even want to remotely entertain, because if he fell down that rabbit hole, he’d never climb back out.

Because yes, he did like Derek. He liked him a lot, the start for his liking towards the man was innocuous enough- which is why it was a problem for Spencer. He didn’t realized he liked Morgan until it was too late. And now he had been battling these feelings for years. Spencer wasn’t ever going to act on them, he just had to live with them- which he had been doing, which he has been content with. But this new information, about Morgan being here, being part of PFLAG- it was going to make Reid’s mind implode in on itself.

~

Reid decided the best thing was to say; “I’m gonna get some water, I’ll be back.” To which Derek and Garcia both nodded to, and Spencer was off, away from the vendors stand and the only two people he knew at pride.

And while that was a good thing, it was simultaneously not so good. Because now he was alone, overwhelmed, and thinking too much. And now he had a task to do, find himself some water.

~

That task seemed to be more difficult than anticipated, as the prides layout was a confusing maze, spencer had to pass in front of a group of drag queens in order to get to the food trucks that were on site- but he eventually got there.

He walked up to the first food truck he saw, it didn’t matter what they sold, he wasn’t getting it.

“What can I get for you?” The cashier asked him, “Just a water, please.” He ordered, the cashier nodded and pulled a bottle out from a cooler that was nearby within the truck, handing it over to spencer as they told him his total, a dollar twenty five. Spencer paid quickly, stepping back and away from the food truck, as he wasn’t sure where else to go now. He didn’t want to go back towards Derek or Garcia, he honestly wanted to go home.

He just needed a minute, some space and time to breathe and relax. He was stressing himself out. And about what? Nothing of goddamn importance, just a stupid crush he had been living with for a while now.

~

Spencer had been leaning against the back the food truck for not long, only a couple of minutes as he was absorbed in thought as he fiddled with the cap on the water bottle.

He was doing his best to follow the grounding techniques he had learned, something to help him calm down, when suddenly- a stranger emerged out of the crowd.

“Hey there, handsome.” The man said confidently as he strode up to introduce himself Spencer. Spencer looked up to meet his eyes, the man in question was a fine looking guy, chiseled jawline, long shoulder length hair, a bit of facial stubble. He was handsome. “Hello,” Spencer answered hollowly in response. In an ordinary situation, he would try and seem more lively- but he wasn’t in a normal situation, not at all.

The anxiety of attending pride was stress enough on its own, but now knowing the guy he had been drooling over for years was here- and worked as a PFLAG volunteer? It was enough to make him lose his mind.

The man didn’t seem to notice Spencer’s empty response, however, as he answered suavely in response; “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the way. I’m Fabian,” Thankfully, the man- Fabian, didn’t stick his hand out for a handshake, instead casually pushing his hair back a bit.

“I’m Spencer,” Reid replied simply, knowing it was best to ride this odd social interaction out, rather than try and fight it. “That’s a lovely name,” Fabian complimented, “Is this your first time at pride, Spencer?” He asked him casually, taking a step forward, closer to Spencer. He was all too confident for Spencer, he too comfortable with invading Spencer’s space. If Spencer could’ve, he would’ve stepped back.

“Uh, yeah. My friend dragged me along.” Reid explained, twisting the bottle cap back onto his half empty water bottle. Fabian nodded, “Your boyfriend didn’t take you?” Fabian asked him. That was a leading question, Spencer had alarm bells ringing in his head the second he heard it. “No. He- um- he met up with us here.” Spencer replied unconvincingly, Fabian obviously did not believe a word he said.

“Well,” Fabian took another step forward, practically blocking Reid in against the back of the food truck, leaning in farther to whisper in Spencer’s ear; “I don’t see him around. So, why don’t you and I get out of here? Hm?”

Spencer wasn’t sure of what to do. He wanted to kick this guy in the crotch and just book it, but he wasn’t sure if his FBI status would protect him in this scenario. He wasn’t sure what could protect him in this scenario.

“Pretty boy! There you are!” A saving grace broke through, and suddenly Fabian was stepping back, and Morgan was walking up.

Thank god, thank fucking god, that’s all Spencer could manage to think as Derek came to stand beside him. “Hey, babe.” Spencer said, cringing at his voice, at what he just said. But that feeling only lasted for a moment as Fabian was still standing right there, staring them both down now.

Spencer could only throw his wish in the sky and hope Derek caught it coming down, ‘please catch along to why I’m calling you babe’ Reid was trying to say.

And Derek caught it, “Hey, baby, was worried about you. Who’s your friend?” He said in his smooth voice, a voice Spencer couldn’t forget. He especially couldn’t forget now, being called ‘baby’ was something Spencer especially could not forget.

“I’m Fabian, you’re Spencer’s boyfriend?” Fabian asked, as if them both calling each other ‘babe’ counted for nothing. “Yeah, I’m Derek.” Morgan responded simply, sliding his hand around Spencer’s waist as if to prove a point. Fabian just nodded, looking between Spencer and Derek one last time before talking; “Well, it was nice to meet you, I’ve gotta get going. See you.”

And then, he was off, fast walking away from Derek and Reid, escaping the terrible situation he had created. Fabian quickly disappeared into the thick crowd, and by then Spencer had his hand squeezing his water bottle all too tightly- as evident by the terrible crunch sound it made. He was too anxious to let go.

“Hey, are you okay?” Derek asked him softly, pulling his hand away from Spencer’s waist. “Can we find somewhere else- can we go sit down?” Spencer asked him quickly. Reid didn’t want to talk about it right this second, right where it had happened. He wanted to leave, he wanted to leave pride and never come back.

~

Derek didn’t ask a single follow up question as he led Reid away from the food trucks, taking him back towards the vendors stands, and then a bit further back, into the normal-not-so-pride-parade-filled park area. Somewhere less stressful, less scary.

“What did that guy want?” Derek asked Spencer casually as they made their way towards a bench that was sat under a large oak tree. Spencer didn’t speak right away, instead he waited until they were seated to start talking.

“He was trying to flirt, but then he wanted me to leave with him.” Spencer explained as he took a deep breath in, just being away from all the loud sounds and sights was helping him calm down. Derek rubbed Spencer’s back in slow, circular motions as Spencer kept talking.

“He was a classic example of a narcissistic personality, it just made me so uncomfortable- he invaded my space.”

“He was a creep, Reid. Simple as that,” Derek kept rubbing Spencer’s back slowly, Spencer nodded. “I know. Sorry, it shook me up.” Spencer attempted to apologized, and Derek was immediately having none of that.

“Reid, no. Don’t apologize for that, don’t you dare. He was a creep, I’m sorry you got caught up with him. It’s okay if you’re shaken up. We can stay here until you feel up to going back, or we can leave. But I’m not leaving you.”

~

And so they sat for a good amount of time on that park bench, at one point Derek stopped rubbing Spencer’s back, instead just keeping his arm stretched out against the back of the bench and against Spencer’s back. Spencer loved it, but he knew if he thought about it for too long he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking. That was his biggest problem, he couldn’t stop thinking.

He had to know, he decided, he couldn’t just wonder why Derek was on the committee for PFLAG. He wanted to know, he had to.

“Derek?” He spoke up softly, sounds of laughing and shouting and music were still heard in the distance, but they were safe from the sounds under the tree. “Mhm?” Derek hummed in response, looking up at the aforementioned tree that was providing shade for them.

His eyes were tracing the way the branches curved and bent around each other, it was something he did to pass the time. Spencer thought he was extraordinary for it, Derek loved to see where things went; he was curious- after all these years, and all the bad they had seen together, Derek still loved to search and find the beauty.

“Why are you on the PFLAG committee ?” Spencer asked him, it was thankfully an innocuous enough ask to not draw too much of Derek profilings side out to pry apart his question. Derek shrugged, and was quiet for a second before responding, “I know what it’s like to be a scared kid, unsure of his identity. If I can help someone through that, that’s all that matters. Same reason I’m in the BAU, to help people.”

Spencer stayed quiet, Derek’s reason was so sincere and so sweet and kind- and only driving him to think further. Was Derek still unsure of his identity? Was he an ally? Why did he have to make Spencer swoon so hard without even trying?

“So, you’re just an ally?” Spencer approached Derek carefully with that question, not wanting to impose or be rude- but just feign simple curiosity, praying Derek wasn’t using his profiling skills right now to decode Spencer’s fake motive.

Derek didn’t notice, thankfully, as he chuckled lowly in response; “No, pretty boy, I’m bisexual. I don’t really tell the team, but it’s not confidential information. Plus, Garcia found Grindr on my phone. Can’t hide anything from that girl.”

Spencer nodded, mumbling something in response about how Garcia had hacked his email to make sure he was free for pride. And then, the two fell into silence again. But it didn’t last for long, because Derek wanted to know just as much, why was Spencer here?

“What about you, Reid?” Derek asked him cautiously, the way you approach a puppy you find on the side of the road. Calm and slow, trying to get him to trust him bit by bit. “What about me?” Spencer asked, not wanting to answer anything about himself unless Derek was specific.

“Are you an ally?” Morgan asked him, leaving the question open ended. Spencer could say as little or as much as he wanted. This is how you get him to open up, Derek knew that for a fact. “Um.. yeah, I mean- who isn’t? I just- I have to be. I’m.. gay.” Spencer admitted all too awkwardly, not at all in a normal fashion. But nothing about Spencer was in normal fashion.

Derek nodded slowly, not responding as he stared back up, tracing his eyes over the tree branches yet again.

~

A few hours had passed, Spencer and Derek eventually left their peaceful bench under the large oak tree, and instead moved back towards the parking lot.

“Garcia’s got a ride home already- I think she got that drag queen to get her home.” Derek explained as they approached his truck, Spencer nodded as he followed Derek. “Anyways,” Derek continued speaking, “I can give you a ride home. Let’s get going.”

“You don’t have to-“ Spencer started, Derek immediately shut him down. “I want to, c’mon. It’s late, you’re tired. I know you are. Let me take you home.” Spencer just nodded in agreement, he couldn’t argue with Derek, even if he did try. Morgan was a stubborn man.

So, Spencer followed Derek into his truck, and they sat in comfortable silence as they started on their journey back to Spencer’s safe space, his apartment.

~

By the time Derek pulled his truck into the apartments parking lot, Spencer knew something was just the slightest bit wrong. Derek had barely spoken for the entire ride, and usually he loves to say something, to make Spencer smile or laugh, or even just nod and mumble in agreement. But he had done none of that on the way to Spencers.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, turning to face Derek as he put the vehicle in park. Derek didn’t meet his eyes, staring at the steering wheel instead as he spoke; “Yeah. Sorry. I’m just thinking.”

“About what?” Spencer pried, absentmindedly unbuckling his seatbelt as he spoke, “About today.” Derek said, not explaining further. “Was today bad?”

Derek shook his head, “No. It started weird, it’s ending pretty good, though. But I’m gonna regret today forever if I don’t do something right now.”

Now, Spencer was confused. Not sure at all what Derek could be talking about, “What do you mean?” He asked, voice quieter than before.

Derek said nothing as he unbuckled his own seatbelt, turning to face Spencer as well, and then he leaned in- closer than they had ever been before. Their noses were almost touching, and Spencer didn’t move. Instead, he watched Derek’s eyes expectantly.

Then, Derek broke through, they were no longer intersecting each other’s personal space- now they were fully destroying each other’s atmospheres. Derek’s lips were on Spencer’s, a chaste, soft, quick kiss- something Spencer would have wanted to go for a lot longer. But then, he pulled away just as fast.

“...That’s what I meant..” He mumbled after a second, looking back towards the steering wheel, looking away from Spencer- and more importantly, not seeing the smile on Spencer’s face.

Spencer couldn’t help it. He knew it was terrible to be smiling right now- he should jump and say something to fix what was happening. But he had to smile, he couldn’t believe that had actually just happened, his brain was still computing and re-circuiting, trying to savor the memory and not forget how Derek’s lips felt against his.

Spencer dragged himself out of his own head quickly, though. He did all he could think of to do in the moment, get Derek back. “Morgan.” Spencer said, tugging on Derek’s sleeve as he did so, forcing him to look back at Spencer and meet his eyes again.

But Spencer didn’t say anything, and he didn’t give Derek the chance to speak, either. Instead, he leant forward, pressing his lips against Derek’s. This is all he had wanted to know for the longest time, and now he had it.

~

Maybe pride wasn’t so bad after all, you just have to be with the right people for it to work out.

———————————————————————

[parksrway]

How did you learn to draw characters? I know everyone always says "just keep practising and you'll get it" but 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 did you start practicing first? I've tried learning before but I've always been confused about whether I should learn to draw hands first, or body first or face first. You don't have to answer if you don't want to I just really like your art style and figured you'd be a good person to ask akshsbdgh

honestly if you want to start drawing characters then I'd just say start drawing characters that you like. if it's a character from a show or game you like or an oc, just start drawing them. there is no "right" place to start and learning as you go is really what I did.

when I was in 7th-8th grade, I REALLY liked Undertale. that was when I really started wanting to improve, all because I saw some neat Undertale fan art and I was like "wow. I want to do that." Ive been drawing pretty much ever since I could hold a pencil but that was when I started improving. because I liked Undertale. I feel like I improve the most when I have something I'm passionate enough about to draw. there was Undertale, I used to draw a lot of YouTuber fan art, v*ltron (which we don't talk about), my own ocs, she ra, and now loz and. sheik.

starting somewhere, like learning anatomy or something, isn't as realistic as people seem to think it is. practicing that stuff, especially when you're just starting out can be very boring. when you're new and can't seem to get it right, it's very demotivating. in my opinion, you should start with something that really sparks your passion, like making up an oc, or drawing fan art or something, so that way when you do start practicing the "boring" stuff, you don't lose the motivation and drive. learn as you go!! you don't have to be perfect, especially not if you're just starting out. don't be hard on yourself for not knowing everything. just draw for yourself and to make yourself happy, that's when I feel like I improve the most.

for example.

this is the first sheik drawing I ever posted. this was posted on January 19th of last year.

this was posted November 14th of last year.

I improved almost entirely because I like drawing sheik and I like drawing sheik and link together. I improved because drawing them makes me happy.

there's no one correct path for you to take to improve drawing characters because it's different for everyone and I'm tired of the idea that you have to learn anatomy and stuff before you're allowed to have an art style because yeah. I've seen people actually say stuff like that. the art community can be fucking ridiculous. learn anatomy when you're ready. hell, never learn anatomy if you don't want to and just want to draw in an overly cartoony style because it's not actually required of you, despite what the art community might say. nothing is required of you. draw whatever the hell you want however the hell you want to.

[atlabeth]

Can I get a Fluff with scenes 12 , 19, and 20 for Sokka x fem reader. They plan a date and get ready for it. Sokka and the gaang are amazed on how Y/N looks for their date.

you look perfect - sokka x fem!reader

a/n: this was such a cute request ive been writing so much angst lately that i needed some fluff lol. i played w the request a little and once again i wrote way too much but i hope you still like it!!

wc: 1.7k 

warning(s): only a little bit of insecurity on the reader’s side but the rest is all fluff :))

12. “It looks good on you.” 19. “How did I manage to get you?” 20. “Maybe I’m just lucky.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you guys sure that this goes with the dress?”  Y/N looked at herself in the mirror uneasily as Suki finished up her eyeshadow, fiddling anxiously with her hands in her lap. Katara was working magic on her hair, styling it to perfection, and Toph was sitting on a beanbag in the corner of her room to offer moral support. She had called her girls over to help her get ready for her date with her boyfriend; they had been more than happy to help her out and gossip together, but nerves were once again getting the better of her. 

It had only been a little over a year since she had been silently pining for Sokka — ever since he had walked into the lecture hall on their first day of classes, she had been drawn to him. It didn’t help that he had chosen a spot right next to her — this was a class essential for half the majors at the university, so he didn’t have very many choices coming in right before the clock — but that easy smile he shot at her before taking out his laptop made her feel some kind of way. 

They ended up getting paired together for their first project, and they became friends in no time. Doing projects together turned into studying together, and they had been spending a lot of time together at various cafes and libraries in preparation for their midterm. Y/N had been wanting to ask Sokka out for a while, but she was so scared of messing up their friendship that she just settled for it. After all, he was an amazing friend and had become one of her closest ones, so it was hardly settling. Luckily for her, she ended up not having to make the first move. 

“Hey, Y/N.” She hummed in response to let Sokka know she had heard him, but didn’t look up from her laptop. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tomorrow?”

“Oh, I think that would be great! Our midterm is on Wednesday, so if we fit in another long study session tomorrow we’ll have Monday and Tuesday to take it all in and do some last-minute preparations.” 

“No, no studying.” That got her attention and she stopped her rapid typing, being met with that same easy smile he gave her the day they met when she looked up. “Just.. the two of us, together. I could take you out to lunch, and you could have something that isn’t coffee for once.” 

Now Y/N was really paying attention. She almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and she was unable to stop the wide smile playing on her lips. “Sokka, are you asking me out?” 

He laughed and nodded, giving her a similar smile but with a hint of nervousness in it. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” 

Y/N set her hand on the table and Sokka set his on top of it, intertwining his fingers with hers. “You don’t even know how much I’d love to go out with you.” 

“For the thousandth time, yes!” Suki nodded, pleased with her work, and started to clean up the palettes that she had laid all over the floor. “You know I would never do you wrong.”

“I know that Suki, but.. This isn’t something that I usually wear, what if he doesn’t like it? What if he thinks I’m trying too hard? I usually don’t even do makeup, but I really wanted—”

“Y/N, stop!” Her eyes snapped over to Toph, who came over and put her hands on her shoulders. “Remind me what you’re getting ready for, again?” 

Toph’s brutal honesty was one of the things Y/N appreciated most about her, and bringing her back down to Earth was something she needed desperately right now. “A date with my boyfriend?” 

“Yes, and what is that date celebrating?” 

“...our one year anniversary.” 

“Exactly!” Toph clapped her on the shoulder a lot harder than she needed to, and Y/N let out a surprised laugh. “You’ve been dating him for a year, this man is totally and completely whipped for you! You literally have nothing to worry about.” 

“I know, but still! What if he doesn’t like this shade, or you’re all lying and this actually doesn’t bring out my eyes, and—” 

“Y/N, please. Look at me.” Katara’s voice interrupted her ramble, and Y/N met Katara’s eyes, finding a lifeline in the ocean she carried within them. She started playing with the ring on her finger again — it was a promise ring that Sokka had given her half a year into their relationship, and she never took it off. It was one of her most treasured possessions, and just holding it helped her worries fade away a bit.

“I know my brother, and I know how he feels about you.” Katara finished off Y/N’s hair and took a seat on the floor in front of her. “After that first day in class with you, he told me about this beautiful girl he met in his calculus class. He said, ‘something about her seemed so inviting, so I sat next to her. I even lied about forgetting my pencil so that I would get to talk to her, even just for a second.’” 

Y/N smiled to herself, already feeling her cheeks heating up. Sokka had told her about that on their first date, and she remembered how shocked she was that he had thought about her when they first met in the same way she did. “I remember that. He told me how nervous he was to ask me out, and that was just crazy to me. He carries himself so confidently and he’s just so smooth in everything that he does.. The thought of him getting nervous over me is so cute.”

“Everything is going to be fine, okay? You look absolutely fantastic in every way possible. I’ll be surprised if he’s even going to be able to take his eyes off of you. Everyone is going to be looking at you when you look like this.” Suki patted Y/N on the cheek and smiled, and her nerves finally settled, but only for a moment. There was a knock on the door and Y/N took a deep breath, shaking her hands out as she gave her friends a desperate look. She felt the same way that she did the time he came to pick her up for their first date — childish joy and excitement all playing together to form some very big butterflies in her stomach. 

“Go get your man, Y/N!” Toph hit her on the shoulder and Y/N laughed, running out of her room so she could get to the door. She took a second to compose herself before opening the door, revealing the image of her boyfriend in a simple sports coat and slacks — it was one of the most basic combinations, but Sokka made it look like he was walking out of a luxury store. He was holding a bouquet of flowers, and he perked up when she opened the door. 

“Sokka! You have perfect timing, I just finished getting ready.” She opened the door wider so that he could come in if he wanted to and gasped. “Are those flowers?” 

Sokka didn’t say anything, his mouth parted like he wanted to say something but just couldn’t find the words. His wide eyes traveled up and down, looking at her makeup, her hair, her outfit, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked, and that gorgeous smile that had drawn him in from the start. She was completely and utterly perfect, and it was like his brain was shutting down trying to think of how to communicate it to her. 

“What?” Y/N looked down at her outfit and pulled at the fabric, mentally kicking herself and already starting to walk back to her room. She was convinced he didn’t like it. “You know, I wasn’t really into this anyways, I can change if you just give me a second—” 

Sokka grabbed her wrist and pulled him back to her, stopping her rambling with a heated kiss. Y/N practically melted as she returned it, and was completely breathless when she pulled away. 

“What was I saying?” She asked, slightly dazed. 

“Your dress,” he said with a chuckle. “It looks good on you. You look so good, so.. perfect. I just forgot how to talk for a while there.”

Y/N smiled shyly and rubbed her arm, all the insecurity from before dissipating. She always wanted everything to be perfect for her boyfriend so that he would understand how much she loved him, but Sokka loved her, not the clothes she wore or the way she did her hair. Of course, she looked drop dead gorgeous tonight, but to him, she was always perfect. “How did I manage to get you?” 

“I ask myself that every time I look at you.” Sokka grinned and held out the flowers, his eyes following her as she set them in a nearby vase. He then pulled her into the hallway with him, allowed Y/N to close the door before they started walking down the hallway together. “And the only thing I can come up with, the only reason that someone like you could fall into my life, is that maybe I’m just lucky.”

“I think it was fate. I truly believe that we were meant to meet because.. I just can’t imagine my life without you. I’ve loved you since that first bad joke you made to me during class, and this has undoubtedly been the best year of my life,” Y/N mused. 

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you fell for me after I pulled out the comedy.” He laughed and gave Y/N a cheeky smile as he held the door to exit the complex open for her, the cool night air doing nothing to help her flushed cheeks. 

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N. Happy anniversary.” Sokka’s eyes softened as he looked at her, leaning in to give her a kiss on the lips before they continued. “I can’t wait to celebrate so many more of these with you.” 

And as they walked into the parking lot towards Sokka’s car, hands intertwined together, his thumb rubbing against hers, and her lips still burning from where he kissed her, Y/N wondered what she had ever been worried about.