#painting backgrounds can be fun I guess

[luck-of-the-drawings]

"I think this is the most inhuman; and human, that I've ever felt.." MUCH CAN HAPPEN IN A YEAR. IN FIVE YEARS. A DECADE. imagine how much can happen in a century. just ONE (1). How will you grow? what phases do you find? even in 5 years, you will find patterns.

[raatopaikka]

[confusedalpacart]

first couple of artfight attacks this year. Nora for poppin_pom (left) and Cam for Cjmiaou(right)

got some little cards with funky Paint Texture on that im using for backgrounds this year

[bolcseszgoblin]

would be a couple days with a couple of friends

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro

Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!

Check out Metal's interview below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!

How has your style developed over the years?

I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?

Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!

@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.

@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!

@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!

Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!

[p0orbaby]

Long Live the Local

summary: it’s all fun and games until the lights are dimmed and her name gets her nowhere

warnings: suggestive ish

a/n: the lovechild of my brain and this request

word count: 1.8k

-

You were never one for sports.

The idea of chasing a ball around a field for hours seems absurd. The thought of people giving everything for a game, the relentless training, the blind devotion—it’s always struck you as bizarre, quite frankly. And yet, here you are, entangled in the whirlwind that is Leah Williamson, a name that makes headlines almost every other day.

You remember the first time you saw her, standing on that pitch, chest puffed out, head held high—a lioness surveying her kingdom. Leah is everything you aren’t: confident, charismatic, and dripping with a cockiness that should’ve been off-putting but instead, was annoyingly magnetic.

You met at a pub, a noisy, crowded place where the scent of spilled beer and sweat mingled in the air. It was one of those boozers where the music is too loud, and the conversations have to be shouted over it. The kind of spot where everyone seems to know each other, and yet, anonymity can still wrap around you like a comforting shroud. Leah approached you with the swagger of someone who knew exactly what she wanted and was used to getting it. She leaned against the bar next to you, her presence commanding attention, even in the dim, flickering light.

“Never seen you around here before,” she said, her voice low and smooth, cutting through the background noise like a hot knife through butter. “You a fan of the game, or did you just get lost?”

You raised an eyebrow, taken aback by her audacity. There was a confidence in her eyes, a challenge almost. “I’m not lost, and I’m definitely not a fan,” you replied, meeting her gaze head-on. There was no way you were going to let her intimidate you.

Leah’s grin widened, her eyes lighting up with amusement. It was as if she could sense your defiance and welcomed it. “So, if you’re not here for the game, what brought you out tonight?”

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the fascinating pull of her presence. “Just looking for a good time, I guess.” It sounded lame even to your ears, but it was the truth. You were here to escape, to find something or someone to distract you from the monotony of your everyday life.

“Well, you found it,” Leah said, her confidence unwavering. Her voice had a way of making a statement sound like a promise. “Name’s Leah, by the way. Leah Williamson”

“I know who you are,” you said, unable to keep the hint of a smile from your lips. “You’re kind of hard to miss.” In the world of sports, she was a star, and even you, with your disinterest in the game, couldn’t ignore her presence.

She laughed, a sound that seemed to fill the entire bar, drawing eyes toward you both. “Glad to know I’m making an impression. So, what’s your name, mystery girl?”

Her question hung in the air between you, the noise of the bar fading into the background. For a moment, it was just the two of you, and you felt the pull of her gaze, like a current you'd happily stop swimming against.

You told her, and she repeated it, as if testing how it felt on her tongue. “Nice to meet you,” she said, extending a hand. You took it, feeling the callouses on her palm, a testament to her dedication to the sport she loved. Her grip was firm, the handshake of someone used to making first impressions count, the texture of her skin a contrast to the polished smoothness of the world you inhabited.

The conversation flowed easily after that, Leah’s brashness a constant undercurrent. She regaled you with stories of her exploits on and off the pitch, each one more outrageous than the last. She was a master storyteller, her words painting vivid pictures that made you laugh and shake your head in disbelief. She had a way of drawing you in, her voice animated and expressive, making you feel as if you were right there with her in those moments of triumph and chaos.

“You don’t believe me?” she asked, feigning hurt when you expressed doubt about one particularly outlandish tale. “I’ll have you know, I recovered 56 balls in one tournament. Google it.”

“I’m sure you did,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “You’re full of it, you know that?”

“Full of talent, maybe,” she shot back, her grin widening. Her confidence was almost tangible, like a force field around her. “But you like it. Admit it”

You couldn’t deny it. There was something intoxicating about Leah’s confidence, the way she carried herself as if the world was hers for the taking. And she made you feel like you were part of that world, like you were special just because she had chosen you to share it with. She had a gravitational pull that was impossible to resist, and you found yourself drawn into her orbit, fascinated by the ease with which she navigated life.

-

It wasn’t long before Leah’s flat became a second home to you, a place where the boundaries between who you were and who you were becoming blurred. The transition was seamless, your belongings slowly migrating to her space, until it felt as much yours as hers. She was intoxicating, and you drank her in, day after day, drawn to the allure of her bravado.

Every touch, every kiss was imbued with the essence of Leah’s unwavering self-assurance. She was the master of the moment, every moment, and she made sure you knew it. The way she kissed you, the way her hands moved over your body, it was as if she was claiming you, making you part of her domain.

But then, there were the nights. The nights when Leah’s cocksure attitude evaporated like morning mist, leaving behind a woman so different it was almost disorienting. She’d pull you into her bed with that same easy confidence, but as soon as the lights dimmed, it was as if she transformed. The bravado melted away, revealing layers of complexity and vulnerability that she kept hidden from the world.

You remember the first time it happened.

You were both lying on her bed, the city lights filtering through the blinds casting patterns on the walls. The silence of the room was punctuated by the distant hum of traffic, a soothing backdrop to the intimacy of the moment. Leah was beside you, her breath steady but her fingers trembling ever so slightly as they traced your burning skin. You turned to look at her, expecting to see that familiar fire in her eyes, but instead, you found something else: vulnerability.

Her cheeks were flushed, her usual smirk replaced by an uncertain smile. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out, only a soft, shaky exhale. You reached out, placing your hand over hers, and felt the tremor beneath your touch. It was a startling contrast to the confident, almost arrogant persona she projected when the sun was high in the sky.

In the darkness, stripped of her public persona, Leah was just a human, vulnerable and real, seeking connection and reassurance.

“Leah,” you whispered, not sure what else to say. She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing nervously. The Leah you knew, the one with a cheeky grin and a sharp wit, was nowhere to be seen. Instead, here was a woman who seemed almost fragile in her fragility.

“I… I don’t want to mess this up,” she confessed, her voice barely audible. “I know I can be… a lot.” The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of her insecurity. It was a rare glimpse behind the curtain, a look at the person Leah hid from the world.

Her honesty was a dagger through the fabric of her carefully constructed persona. You saw her then, really saw her, and it broke your heart and healed it all at once. The mask had slipped, and in its place was a raw, unfiltered truth that made her seem more real than ever.

“You’re not messing anything up,” you assured her, squeezing her hand gently. “Just be you. That’s all I want.” You meant every word, the simplicity of your statement cutting through her fears like a balm.

Leah’s eyes closed, and she took a deep breath, her confidence fracturing and giving way to something raw, something real. She moved closer, her body pressing against yours, and you felt the shiver that ran through her. Her lips found yours, hesitant at first, then growing bolder as you responded, meeting her halfway. There was a tenderness in the way she kissed you, an exposure that spoke volumes.

In the intimacy of those moments, Leah was stripped of her armor. She wasn’t the star athlete or the charismatic leader. She was simply Leah, a woman who, despite all her bravado, was terrified of letting you down. Her hands, usually so steady and sure, fumbled with the buttons of your shirt, and she muttered an embarrassed apology that made you smile.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, guiding her hands with yours. “We’ve got all the time in the world.” Your words were a promise, a reassurance that there was no rush, no pressure.

You moved together, slowly, tentatively, exploring each other with a tenderness that left no room for the smug exterior Leah wore so well. Her kisses were soft, almost reverent, and when she finally pulled back, her eyes were bright with unshed tears. It was a moment of pure connection, untainted by the personas you both wore for the world outside these four walls.

“Why do you put up with me?” she asked, her voice breaking. The question was loaded with the fear of rejection, the uncertainty that came with letting someone see the real you.

You cupped her face in your hands, wiping away a tear that had escaped. “Because I see you, Leah. All of you. And I wouldn’t change a thing.” It was the truth, plain and simple. In seeing her, you saw everything that made her who she was, and you loved her for it.

She kissed you again, deeply this time, and you felt her relax into the moment, her feebleness transforming into trust.

You made love that night, slow and sweet, every touch a promise, every kiss a vow. Leah crumbled beneath your hands, her confidence unraveling until all that was left was the pure, unguarded woman she tried so hard to hide. It was a dance of faith and tenderness, a mutual unveiling of the selves you kept to yourselves.

In the aftermath, as you lay tangled together, Leah’s head resting on your chest, you felt her breathe a contented sigh. Her fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, and for once, she was silent, no clever words or witty remarks, just the sound of her breathing, steady and sure.

[alicenpai]

edgeworth family & summer 🍉

i needed to go through an old file in my 2021 folder, and i stumbled upon this drawing. 2021 was an incredibly arduous year & resulted in a lot of art block, so i have a lot of unfinished drawings from then. the fact that i finished/drew anything at all is a feat honestly (and you guys should be proud too if you drew anything at all during the early months of the pandemic...!)

i quite like the look of jeluto's csp brush here to achieve a blocky effect...

i dont know what is UP with the bleed border here, did i plan to print this in a book? especially with how close greg's face is to the gutter??? *avgn voice* what was i thinking

the one time i ACTUALLY tried a bg and it backfired on me bc i never finished. im sorry to my 1st year layout teacher who gave me a 1 on 1 personal pep talk *dexter voice* i have failed you 😭😭 i think this drawing had a lot of potential, i just wouldn't go back to it bc it's 3 years old now. backgrounds are tough because i never really know how to approach them. do i line it? do i keep it a sketch and just paint over/under the sketch layer? do i lineless it?

i guess it depends. much to think about... i definitely want to challenge myself whenever i can, but not overwhelm myself with the need to "improve". gotta remember that art should be fun ♥.

[jaefluenza]

Rekindlement | Jjh.

genre: suggestive, fluff, oneshot

characters: jeong jaehyun x gn!reader

2,251 words

“you didn’t mean it… but all it took was just the longing look on his eyes for you to realize; you missed him too.”

-ˋˏ✄- - - - - - - ♡⁠

The club pulsed with life—neon lights flashing, music thundering through the air. You swayed on the crowded dance floor, a cocktail glass loosely gripped in your hand. Your friends cheered you on, laughing as you twirled around, inhibitions completely long forgotten.

“One more drink!” someone shouted, and you giggled, stumbling toward the bar. The world spun, but in a fun, dizzying way that made everything seem brighter, louder, and just a little more reckless.

You turned, leaning back against the bar to scan the crowd, eyes catching on a tall figure near the edge of the dance floor. His face was blurred by the haze of alcohol and lights, but something about him seemed… familiar. Your heart skipped a beat, though you couldn’t quite place why.

He looked your way, and your eyes locked.

Without thinking, you pushed off the bar and walked toward him. Your movements were fluid, mind foggy, but one thought blazed clear: he’s gorgeous.

“Hi,” you said, voice louder than usual to compete with the music.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Hi.”

There was something in his tone—a teasing familiarity that tickled the edges of your memory—but you ignored it. Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached up, cupping his face, and kissed him.

It wasn’t a soft, hesitant kiss. It was bold, fueled by liquid courage and the heady rush of the moment. The stranger froze for a fraction of a second, then kissed you back, his hands lightly resting on your waist.

The world seemed to tilt, the music fading into the background. For a moment, it felt… right.

But then he pulled away, his lips hovering near yours as he whispered, “(Y/n)?”

Your eyes shot open, the sound of your name slicing through the drunken haze. You blinked, staring up at him. The neon lights painted his face in shifting colors, but now, with him this close, you definitely couldn’t mistake him.

“Jaehyun?” you breathed, voice barely audible over the music.

His expression was unreadable, a mix of shock, amusement, and something deeper you couldn’t quite name. “I thought you recognized me,” he said, his tone teasing, but his eyes betrayed something more intense.

Your hands flew to your mouth, cheeks burning. “Oh my God. I didn’t—I wasn’t—”

He chuckled, though there was an edge to it. “Didn’t expect to run into you here. And definitely not like this.”

You stepped back, suddenly hyper-aware of the people around you and the fact that your ex-boyfriend—the ex-boyfriend—had just kissed you back.

“I need… I need to go,” you stammered, spinning on your heel.

“(Y/n), wait.” Jaehyun grabbed your wrist gently, his touch sending an electric jolt through your body. “It’s been a while. Can we talk?”

You turned to face him, your heart pounding. “Talk? Now?”

He smiled softly, the kind of smile that used to make your knees weak. “Maybe after you’ve had some water first.”

You hesitated, torn between the urge to run and the pull of old feelings you thought you’d buried. “Fine. But just to talk,” you said, trying to sound firm despite the wobble in your voice.

Jaehyun nodded, his hand lingering on your wrist for a moment longer before letting go. As he led you to a quieter corner of the club, you couldn’t help but wonder if this accidental kiss was the universe’s cruel joke—or its way of reopening a door you thought was forever closed.

-ˋˏ✄- - - - - - - ♡⁠

He found a quieter corner tucked away from the blaring speakers and the crush of bodies on the dance floor. You sank into a booth, Jaehyun sitting across from you. A waiter appeared with water, and Jaehyun handed you a glass.

“Drink,” he said, his voice gentle but firm.

You gulped the water down, grateful for the coolness that cleared some of the fog in your head. You set the glass down, but your hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting—twisting the rim, picking at a napkin, avoiding his gaze.

“I didn’t mean to kiss you,” you blurted, breaking the heavy silence between the both of you.

Jaehyun leaned back, his eyes studying you like he always did—calm, calculated, as if he could see right through you. “I figured as much. But it still happened.”

You looked up at him, the soft lighting of the booth casting shadows across his sharp features. “What are you even doing here?”

“Same reason as you, I guess,” he said, shrugging. “Needed a break. Didn’t expect to run into… someone I used to know.”

You winced at his phrasing. “Someone you used to know?” you repeated, voice tinged with hurt.

Jaehyun’s expression softened. “That’s not what I meant, (Y/n).” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You were never just someone to me. You know that.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, you forgot where you both were.

You sighed, breaking eye contact. “We broke up for a reason, Jaehyun.”

“And I’ve regretted it every day since,” he said, his voice low but steady.

Your heart stuttered. You hadn’t expected that.

“Don’t,” You whispered, shaking your head. “You don’t get to say that now. Not after everything.”

He reached out, his hand brushing yours lightly before you pulled away. “I know I hurt you. I know I wasn’t… enough for you back then. But seeing you tonight, (Y/n)…” He paused, his jaw tightening. “It made me realize I still care about you. A lot.”

Your chest ached, the sincerity in his voice cutting through you like a knife. But you couldn’t afford to go down this road again.

“We’re not the same people anymore,” you said, voice trembling.

“Maybe not,” Jaehyun admitted. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t start over.”

You laughed bitterly. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” he said firmly. “But maybe it’s worth it. Maybe you’re worth it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with possibility and pain. You stared at him, mind racing. Part of you wanted to walk away, to leave the past where it belonged. But another part—a stubborn, reckless part—couldn’t help but wonder if this was fate giving you both another chance.

“I need time,” you finally said, voice barely above a whisper.

Jaehyun nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “I can give you that. As long as you promise not to disappear on me again.”

You looked away, lips pressing into a thin line. “No promises, Jaehyun.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was the start of something you weren’t ready to name.

-ˋˏ✄- - - - - - - ♡⁠

The walk back to your apartment was quiet at first, the city buzzing softly around them. The cool night air brushed against your flushed skin, grounding you slightly. Jaehyun walked beside you, his hands tucked into his pockets, his strides calm and unhurried.

“You didn’t have to walk me home,” you said, breaking the silence.

“I wanted to,” Jaehyun replied simply, glancing down at you.

Your heart did an uneasy flip. The streets felt emptier than they were, the world narrowing to just the two of you. Every now and then, your arms brushed, and each time sent a spark shooting through your already fragile resolve.

As moments passed after Jaehyun walked you inside your apartment building, you paused in front of the entrance, hesitating. You fished your keys from your bag, hands shaking slightly. “Thanks for… tonight, I guess,” you said awkwardly, avoiding his gaze.

Jaehyun chuckled softly. “What are you thanking me for? Walking you home after you kissed me in a club?”

Your cheeks burned. “You didn’t have to say it like that.”

He stepped closer, his presence warm despite the cool night. “Why not? It’s the truth.”

You looked up at him, your annoyance melting into something softer. His gaze was steady, intense, and far too familiar.

“Jaehyun—” you started, but the words caught in your throat as he reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

“Can I come in?” he asked, his voice low.

Your breath hitched. The air between you grew heavy, and yourbmind raced with a hundred reasons why this was a bad idea. But when you looked into his eyes, you saw the same longing that mirrored your own.

Without answering, you turned and unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping inside. You glanced over your shoulder, catching Jaehyun’s hesitant expression. “Are you coming or not?”

He followed you in, the door clicking shut behind him.

Inside, your apartment was dimly lit and quiet, the faint hum of the fridge being the only sound. You set your keys on the counter, your back turned on him. You could feel his presence behind you, his closeness magnetic.

“You really didn’t have to walk me home,” you repeated, more to fill the silence than anything.

“I know,” he said softly, his voice closer now.

You turned around, only to find him mere inches away. Your breath hitched as his gaze captured yours, a blend of hesitation and longing flickering within.

“Jaehyun…”

Before you could say anything else, he closed the distance between you two, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. This time, it wasn’t a drunken mistake or a spur-of-the-moment impulse. It was deliberate, slow, and full of unspoken emotions that had been buried for far too long.

Your hands found their way to his shirt, clutching the fabric as you kissed him back. The world outside the apartment ceased to exist as Jaehyun pressed you gently against the counter, his lips trailing from your mouth to your jawline.

“Are you sure about this?” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and uneven.

You pulled back slightly, gaze meeting his. For a moment, you wavered, torn between the past and the present, between caution and desire. But as your eyes met his, all you could sense was the heavy silence of unspoken words and the emotions you had kept locked away until this moment.

“Yes,” you whispered, voice trembling but certain.

Jaehyun exhaled sharply, relief and hunger flashing across his face before he kissed you again, this time with a fervor that left no room for doubt.

The rest of the night blurred into a haze of intertwined bodies, murmured apologies, and rekindled closeness. By the time he laid you gently on your bed, the city outside stirred to life, but within the apartment, it felt like the dawn of a second chance.

-ˋˏ✄- - - - - - - ♡⁠

You lay on your side, back turned to Jaehyun, staring at the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains. The room was quiet except for the sound of both you and Jaehyun’s breathing, uneven and heavy in the aftermath of what had just happened.

You clutched the blanket closer, mind racing. What had you just done? You could still feel his touch, his lips, the weight of his presence lingering like a ghost you couldn’t shake.

Behind you, Jaehyun shifted, propping himself up on one elbow. His fingers ghosted over your shoulder, hesitant at first, before he let them rest there.

“(Y/n),” he said softly, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine.

You didn’t respond, lips pressing into a thin line as you squeezed your eyes shut. You didn’t quite trust yourself to speak, not yet.

He sighed, his breath warm against the back of your neck. “I miss you.”

The words hit you like a blow, the weight of them sinking deep into your chest. Your eyes opened, and for a moment, you just stared at the wall, heart pounding.

“Don’t,” you whispered, voice breaking slightly.

“Don’t what?” he asked, his tone gentle but insistent.

“Don’t say things like that,” you said, turning to face him. Your eyes searched his, looking for something—anything—that would make this easier.

Jaehyun looked at you, his expression raw and unguarded. “Why not? It’s the truth.”

You shook your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Because it doesn’t change anything. We broke up for a reason, Jaehyun. Saying you miss me doesn’t fix what happened.”

“I know,” he said quietly, his hand reaching out to brush a tear from your cheek. “But it doesn’t mean I stopped feeling it.”

His touch was soft, comforting, and it made your heart ache even more. You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. “Why now? Why tonight?”

You hesitated, subtly aware of his hand still resting on your cheek. “Because seeing you again brought back everything I tried to bury. And kissing you…” His voice faltered, thick with emotion. “It made me realize I never truly let go.”

Your chest tightened, and you bit your lip to keep from breaking down completely. “I don’t know if I can do this again,” you admitted, voice barely audible.

Jaehyun leaned closer, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m not asking for anything right now, (Y/n). I just… I needed you to know how I feel. That I never stopped caring about you.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you let it fall, too tired to wipe it away. “I missed you, too,” you confessed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Jaehyun’s breath hitched, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you as if he were afraid you might disappear. You let yourself sink into the embrace, walls crumbling piece by piece as you clung to him in the quiet stillness of the night.

For now, the world outside could wait.

fin.

jaefluenza; navigation

[existentialcrisis-9-5]

DCA Subnautica AU

Version #2 of the designs, including the bioluminescence! + fun tidbits on each of the goobers and a visual on Y/N!

(Edit: it’s out now! Check my bio for the link)

Eclipse is up first!

Theirs was the first design I drew out in any detail (as shown in the crude MS Paint drawing), so it's the one that needed the most work. Even after making the more detailed version with the lights, I still ended up changing things as I got a better grasp on what direction I wanted to head in. Fun lore tidbit! Eclipse is a freak of nature and should not look like that! They're properly split down the middle between day and night. Also I messed it up in the drawing because I was tired when I made it, but they're also covered in scars and bite marks.

Sun !!

I did Sun next, and here I had a better idea for what I was going for. There were still a few problems with this design though, which got changed. This is also where I started drawing the pattern on the tail, which I felt looked weird in this picture. Fun tidbit! Sun has an inability to express his feelings in the appropriate fish mermaid way, leading to much confusion.

Moon !!

Moon was done last. Once again, I learned from this drawing and changed Moon's design to match, however Moon is the one that remains the most unchanged! I knew what I was going for by the time I got to him each time, so I guess that helped. Something I did alter, however, were some of the lights. I found that they either blended together too much or weren't as visible as I would have liked. Fun tidbit! This is pose actually based on a scene in one of the chapters. It was actually one of the earliest written scenes.

Y/N, my beloved <3

I did 2 versions of Y/N, one with longer hair and one with shorter. It was important for me, when writing the story, that I kept the person I'm imagining as vague as possible, with the only physical descriptions being "physically fit" and having a few scars (for plot reasons), so this is only for me and whatever drawings I do. As a result of trying to keep it vague, I ended up going with the shorter hair (though in the final reference I made it a bit longer than shown here). Fun tidbit! The green is because whenever I'm sketching, I have 4 colours I sketch in to differentiate parts of the picture (usually background vs foreground or different people), and green was the one I used here (red, blue and purple were taken, I'm sure you can understand why). It ended up sticking, since I didn't want to go with the orange that's on Ryley's suit in order to avoid possible confusion.

That's it for now! At some point, I'll post the full references for each of them, but until then, the next thing I post will probably be chapter 1!

[shamrockqueen]

Omega Retreat : Chapter 3

Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Omega reader

Warnings : R18, Eventual Smut, reference to physical ailments

Word count : 2083

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Summary : As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat.

You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?

You tried to focus on your work, but you found yourself losing focus time and time again. Your eyes kept leaving the dull glow of your computer monitor to steal glances at your phone.

“You seem distracted.”

Her tone was playful, but the abrupt interruption still had you jumping in your seat. Your boss had snuck up behind you easily as you were rechecking your email on your phone.

“Geez, we’ll have to string a bell around you if you're going to sneak up on people.” You laughed back, reassured by her coy smile.

“Something’s got you in a good mood.” She hummed behind you.

“Oh, yeah I guess.” You try to hide your pink cheeks, too embarrassed over getting caught texting a new flame like a love-struck teenager.

“All the girls can smell the change. Even the betas, dear.” She sang back.

“Who is he?” She tried to hide her beaming smile behind the back of her hand as she leaned over on the wall of your cubicle.

You scoff, trying to cover your warm cheeks as you answer. “You sound more excited than my mother was.”

She gasped with a wide smile, like a schoolgirl getting gossip from a friend. Omega’s always connected more closely, and it warmed your heart that she could be equally happy for you. So, when she leaned in for a hint of another scent that may have been left to linger on your skin, you quickly answered the anticipation in her eyes.

“We haven’t met in person yet; you're not going to catch a whiff of him, so don’t bother trying.” You laughed up at her before she pulled away.

“No fun. You could at least tell me what he is.” You knew it had to be the question bugging her the most.

You hesitated for a second, biting back on your lip before whispering back, “An alpha.”

“I knew it!” She nearly jumped with delight, leading you to try and shush her before the other cubicles were privy to your personal business.

It made you happy that you could feel like you had bonds even at work, and we’re thankful for her gentle omega nature.

“Keep your voice down.”

“I’m sorry; I’m just so happy for you. After everything, I just..”

You didn’t want her to finish that sentence. Luckily for you, she wouldn’t, looking back into your saddened eyes instead. “I’m just so happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

“You think you’ll meet him soon?”

You chuckled alongside her, glad to have the conversation shift back to a lighter tone.

“We’ll see. We’ll see.” You shoo at her, hoping to get some of the work she’d given you done today.

She gets the message, realizing she’d been gushing for too long and had work of her own.

“Fine, but I expect an invite to that wedding.”

It was the last you heard of her before she walked back to her office.

You smiled back at your computer, a drab Excel sheet still painted over its background. You sighed back at it until a telltale ding rang across your previously ignored phone.

A relationship with an alpha was still scary, but Bucky seemed to dampen those worries every time you looked at his photo blipping over your screen.

You pulled the phone towards you to glance over the notification of Bucky’s message.

“I wait to see you tonight.” You read along with the small message box.

You ran your fingernail along the power button before pressing on it, letting the passcode window light up the screen before tapping on a handful of numbers.

You looked back at the few cubicles behind you, making sure you had a moment to answer.

“Me either. I can’t focus on work,” you typed fervently.

“I’d rather meet you in person, Omega." The message pops up in the next second.

You let out a breathy chuckle with a smile, still in disbelief that you could be his omega even in text.

“I know. Hopefully soon, but I’m excited about our video date.”

You were more than excited; it was all you could think about as the hours ticked away slower than they normally would. When 5 p.m. finally rolled around, you nearly lept from your seat. You nearly forgot to shut off your computer before grabbing your stuff and rushing away.

A giddy drive home was a delightful change of pace, spurring you to drive just a tick above the speed limit as you neared your little house.

You fly through the house, letting the door slam behind you before tossing your purse over the couch. You stumbled past the mirror, only to twist back towards it after catching sight of your messy hair.

Your fingers only tangle into it as you fight to take it out of its messy bun. You only tied it up halfway through the day for a little comfort, only to ruin all the work you put into it that morning.

You didn’t have any time to fuck with it now, yet you continue to burn through the few seconds you have left trying to tame your tired looks. Could each flyaway be seen through your laptop's webcam?

You stopped for a second, closing your eyes and sucking in an uneven breath before looking back up at your reflection.

You looked red—nothing new, of course—but not a face you wanted him to see, and yet there wasn’t anything you could do to fight it except to finally calm down.

Your hair wasn’t bad, and your reflection wasn’t meant to scare you, and as you continued to breathe, that red blush began to fade. You can do this.

You leave the mirror, setting your eyes on the laptop still sitting on the coffee table. You lowered yourself to the sofa to sit as comfortably as possible before pulling the computer to your lap and switching it on.

A brief photo of you with your arm wrapped around your mother’s shoulder flashed in the background of your screen before you set up the video call.

It was just more of those bouncing dots with a different ring as it all danced along a blue screen. You held your breath, waiting patiently for his image to take over. Yet, when the square zoomed over the page and movement took over your screen, every ounce of air seemed to force its way from your lungs.

He was there, tucking his hair behind his ear and smiling at his own screen as you gave a shocked smile.

“Hi!”

You mouthed back an overwhelmed ‘hi’ as you watched him intently. Your mouth moved in an attempt to form words, but you were far too mesmerized by the real alpha on your screen. That is, until his smile fell.

“Is your sound on? I can’t hear you.”

“Yes!” You were quick to reassure him, wanting desperately to see that smile set upon you again.

Just as you hoped, it was back in an instant after hearing your voice.

“Sorry, I was just a little speechless for a second.” You blinked at his image, wanting to make sure it was real as you spoke to it. “It’s amazing to finally see the real you. Not that I thought your photos were fake..uh it’s just.” You fought your way through your ramblings as he chuckled at your giddy and nervous demeanor.

“No, I know what you mean. It’s so exciting to finally see you, Omega.”

It was like a dream, finally laughing and talking where you could see one another and study each of his expressions as he took each word that left your stuttering lips. Hours pass, and the conversation continues to burn through the night as it’s carried happily between the two of you.

It was so much better, but not nearly enough. A frustration shared by both you and him began to show as the veneer hiding it broke away.

“But, I wanna bury my face in your neck.” His voice deepens, showing a glimpse at a small possessive side. It was something you’d initially feared from an alpha.

“I gotta see you for real.”

It’s so sudden, you could hardly believe it would always be like this for omegas, but how could someone who had shut themselves away for so long really know?

You think back on what others spoke of during their tales of pleasure and even the more harrowing words from your physician only a few weeks prior. They’d cut off your suppressants ‘for your own safety’, and urged you to seek a sexual partner in the most blatant terms. But, they weren’t wrong, and with another possibly fatal heat on the horizon, you had to make a very difficult choice.

“Maybe we should. It's just...” You stopped for a second to calm yourself. “It hasn’t been very long, and you're already..so smitten.”

“Can you blame me?” His voice rang low over the speaker yet still sang through your worries so melodically.

His tone drops, becoming more serious and heavy, so much so that it only echos the ever-grave voice that bounced around the back of your mind. “What are you scared of?”

It hit close to home, like he could be looking right through you and seeing every mounting fear you tried so hard to bottle up.

“It's just, with a heat coming in a couple weeks..” you tried to ignore the breaking of your own voice as you spoke. You didn’t want this to be the reason why, and you didn’t want it to be so soon that you two had to meet or finally be intimate. “...and I just don’t want to rush things. But I agree; maybe we should consider meeting in person soon."

You fought not to let your true emotions show and not to let your true fears come to light in front of him. It was a relief when his face lit up with so much joy. He just stared back at you, his eyes beaming through the screen.

You could nearly cry. After ripping off this first bandage, it was such a relief that you finally felt you could breathe properly. You chuckled happily together, taking in each other's joyous reaction when he finally spoke again.

“I can send you an invitation right away. I can be there for you.” He spoke so passionately, looking at you with big, wet blue eyes before typing away at the keys on his keyboard.

“W-what invitation?” You nearly coughed on the words as they left your throat.

You do think back on the vacation packages on the original website and how they boasted about safety as well as elegance. The thought of having that kind of special getaway with the Alpha often, finally seeing Bucky where the sun could hit his skin instead of in the glow of your laptop monitor.

But, he was still technically a stranger, in spite of the two of you consistently sharing messages over the course of several weeks. Running away with him seemed, in the most juvenile sense, stupid. Yet, a twinge in your stomach urged you to leap at his offer.

“It is such a beautiful resort.” You chuckled nervously. You recalled all the photos you’d scrolled through before he’d matched you on the website.

“I’ll meet you anywhere you want me to, Omega. I just want to feel you so bad.” The low drag of his voice wasn’t unfamiliar by now, after having heard similar sentiments during a steamier exchange over a phone call. You felt a little embarrassed as your skin started to flush again.

“I don’t want to make you spend that much money on me.”

"This is not about money. I just want everything to be perfect for you.”

You try to force yourself to speak, but each word falls flat on your tongue. He was offering you what felt like a lifeline with open arms. You never wanted something like this to progress so damn quickly, but maybe you were really that desperate. Maybe you were really that scared.

It was so nice to be wanted, and by him especially, an alpha unlike any other you’d ever met. You still wanted time to think about it, but what time do you have left before a possible disaster? The date of your heat was growing closer, but you had to afford at least a night to ponder something like this.

“C-can I have a few days to think about it?”

Chapter 4

Tag list : @serendipitouslife90 @unicornicopia1 @bethyruth @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr @buckysdoll85 @lendeluxe @meowmeowyoongles @heletsmelovehim @mcira @buckysbaby-doll

[dimensionzero]

yet more frame-by-frame atsv analysis, art style edition!

I still cannot fucking figure out what art medium earth-50101 is supposed to be, my best guess is, like, paint/maybe markers over linework? in any case there's the fun little detail that even though pretty much everything in mumbattan has very distinct outlines, the colours aren't perfect --- sometimes they go outside the lines or don't fill the whole space inside the lines.

like, look at how the colours of the clothes and scarves bleed out past their outlines here! and check out the outlines vs. the shading of the background --- they don't quite match up. the somewhat messy colouring only seems to be for colourblocking/base colours, though. that horse's finery is very detailed and looks very precise!

here's miles crashing through the street a couple seconds later for comparison:

look at him and his sharp outlines and crisp colours! it's subtle enough that it's not distracting, but miles is still very obviously sticking out from the rest of the crowd here

something else I noticed just now: miles still has his comic-book shading dots where the light hits him, which no one else has

on the contrary, the place where the light is coming from (the right side of the frame) has some darker lines staining it --- I'm no artist but I think they might be simulating the look of art done on a canvas rather than on paper?

gwen does not seem to be retaining her watercolour anywhere except her own universe, but although she adapted to earth-1610's style before, she's apparently keeping the comic book look in mumbattan too. didn't know you could do that! (she's even got the comic-misprint motion blurs!)

then we've got pavitr, who actually also has the comic-style shading dots (which is admittedly a little confusing since nothing else in his universe has them?). other than that though he follows his universe's style pretty much exactly --- very distinct outlines, messy colouring but precise details. you can see it most clearly on the close up of his mask, where the outlines of his eyes are perfect but the red of the mask bleeds out into the background.

(another miles for compare/contrasting!)

oh wait are pav's shading dots supposed to be the "canvas" showing through the lighter colours?

I think they are! you can see it much more clearly here, it looks less like dots and more like a crosshatch kind of texture --- I think it is canvas. mystery solved!

[wood-white-writer]

"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [3/...]

- OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

"And I am the idiot with the painted face, in the corner taking up space. But when he walks in, I am loved."

— Mitski, "Me and My Husband"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. Years have passed since you last saw Buggy following the dispute that you thought ended your friendship. When you finally reunite with the blue-haired menace you once considered your closest friend, it’s under less than “friendly” circumstances.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, LA!Verse, Buggy is a lonely asshole, flashbacks, semi-canon divergence, Reader is strong AF,

A/N: I forgot to mention this before, but I guess this technically does hold some spoilers from the manga/anime. Keep in mind, I've not seen/read either piece, so it's merely used to give their stories some background.

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or comment :))

Fuck, fuck, fuck, where the fuck are you?

After some time of searching, Buggy finds you sitting by the docks, your feet gently swaying with the waves, almost free of any earthbound weight. He’d join you if he could, but he’s not brave enough to get too close to the waters yet.

However, he’s content enough to just watch you from a safe distance. The sky is free of clouds and the moon is full, which illuminates your shape like a bright lantern in the night.

Beautiful, that's what he thinks you are. In fact, that's what he's been thinking for a while now, not that he's ever told you that to your face. He wonders when he stopped looking at you like something more than a friend. 

Maybe it was when he caught you smiling at him after you'd successfully managed to steal a bottle of fine rum from the local bar, and you both ended up getting blackout drunk on the ship deck?

Maybe it was when he saw you win a round of arm-wrestling against one of your other crewmates, despite being significantly younger than the opponent.

Maybe it was when you beat a guy black and blue for making fun of his nose in public, with both him and Shanks cheering you on from a safe distance? 

It doesn’t matter when it was. What matters is that, for a while, he has found it difficult to take his eyes off you. Even if it’s just a peek, it usually takes him a while to force his attention on something else.

The rest of the crew are on the Oro Jackson, celebrating their recent endeavors, yet here you are, celebrating on your own. He finds it odd; you’re usually happy to participate in any celebrations with the crew, but you’ve decided to be here instead. It was your absence on deck that prompted Buggy to go looking for you.

The wind picks up and he can feel goosebumps spread across his skin like wildfire. He shivers and tugs his jacket tighter around himself, and that’s when he notices that you’re not wearing any additional clothing to stave off the cold in the night.

He finally calls out to you, a little throaty for reasons he refuses to disclose aloud. “You’re gonna get a cold like that, dumbass! You wanna get pneumonia and die or something?”

You subsequently turn around to face him, and his breath gets caught in his throat. Your sharp eyes, when caught in the moonlight, sparkle like a thousand treasures — compiled of gold, diamonds, and millions and millions of berries — holed up in two caves.

Smiling in the way that makes his pulse quicken, you proceed to wave your feet in the water. A few drops land on your arms, sparkling in the air before landing on the skin of your arms. “I don’t think so? If we get to the South Pole, maybe there’s a higher risk?”

He frowns and crosses his arms over his chest. “The North Pole is colder!”

“Ah, well,” you snicker. “In that case, then I’m not likely to get pneumonia unless we’re there.”

“You can still get cold! What are you, a moron?” 

For someone who can’t keep his eyes off you for extended periods, that doesn’t keep him from being rather crass in terms of vocabulary with you. That’s alright. You’ve never been one to appreciate honeyed words if your frequent bickering with both him and Shanks says something.

With another swing of your legs, you reestablish contact with with wooden platform and make your way over to him. That’s when he finally realises that you haven’t brought your shoes with you, but you don’t seem bothered by it. “By the way, what’re you doing here, Buggy?“

He considers telling you a simple lie that won’t clash with what he knows to be the truth. He was coincidentally going for a walk, he needed some air, he was purposefully looking for you…

“Noticed you weren’t on the ship,” he finally settles on with a hmph. “Had to make sure you hadn’t accidentally up and drowned or something. You’re a shitty swimmer,”

“Not as shitty as you,” you counter and blow him a raspberry. 

He’s about to tell you to fuck off or something when, again, he finds himself pausing. 

You’re smiling at him, so softly, and it feels so warm that the wind no longer has any effect on him. He can feel his cheeks scorch up and his heart is pounding so hard that it feels on the verge of breaking his ribs.

He hastily looks away and coughs a couple of times, trying to maintain what little dignity he has left.

“Are you alright?” You ask with faux concern. “Did you just catch pneumonia or something?”

“S-Screw you!”

You laugh, and it’s like music to his ears. Your laughs are usually raspy and hardly appropriate, but he finds that it’s the prettiest sound in the world. Your smile, your laugh, they are so warm that he hopes that you’ll never stop making them.

Out of the blue, you wrap an arm around his shoulder and begin tugging him on the path to the ship. “Come on, before they leave us behind.”

“Y-Yeah, let’s.” He doesn’t move to tug your arm away, and no power on this earth will make him.

------

Now that he's closer to the kid, Buggy realizes the stupidity of asking if he was yours. The two of you are nothing alike, but the truly defining factor lies in your eyes. Rubber Boy's eyes are too bright, too round. Whereas yours are knives ready to strike, his' are simple spoons.

He begrudgingly has to hand it to the kid; he's a fearless one. Even stretching his limbs beyond human capabilities does not diminish his spirit. Buggy doesn't know whether to applaud or reject the determination the boy has.

"I want you to think of this, like an artistic exercise," he explains. "Because pain leads to art, and art reveals truth."

He can't hear any commotion from the backrooms where he keeps you contained. Truth be told, he never expected it to keep you for long, only detain you for a limited amount of time. If he wants to both get the map and keep his life in one go, he is going to have to try and get it without necessarily ruining the kid too much.

Still, it doesn't keep him from testing the lines. He tries to pry the answers out with a needle, but no matter what he does, the kid remains infuriatingly mute. 

So, he decides to dig a little deeper.

"Now, what makes a boy want to grow up to be King of the Pirates? Who are you trying to impress?" He tilts his head with inquisitiveness. "A lost love?"

On cue, he can vaguely make out a gnarling sound coming from the back rooms. The sound of chains rattling, which he perceives as you probably moving in the enclosure. He thinks about sending someone to check on you and find out what you're up to, but he does not want the number of supporting casts to reduce.

"An absent parent?" He continues, ignoring the noises as he closes in on the boy. "Or was it someone that you worshipped? A false idol."

Try as he might, the boy fails to feign any indifference to him. A master of performance himself, Buggy knows when he's hit his target "That's it."

He yanks the dumb straw hat off his head, and the boy's protests against it further dig a nail into the coffin. "Give me back my hat!"

"I used to know a pirate that wore a hat just like this." Buggy's grip on the feeble thing drastically tightens as memories of the past resurface. "Red-Haired Shanks."

"You knew Shanks?"

"Ginger? Three scars, left eye?" Of course, how could he not know of the bastard? "We served together on a pirate crew when we were about your age. In fact," he glances at the boy from over his shoulder. "Your friend, Cross-Hairs over there, was with us at the time."

The kid blinks in confusion, clearly not aware of this little piece of information. "I knew she served with Shanks, but she never mentioned you."

In all honesty, it doesn't surprise him, yet he still perceives this as a slight against him from your side. The underlying hypocriticism in that doesn't evade his notice, but he elects not to address it. 

Buggy can feel the straws under his digits lightly crack beneath the pressure of his grip. "She did, but before then, it was the three of us. For a time, I even thought we were friends." His nail pierces a hole through the inside of the hat. "Until they betrayed me, like all the others. He wanted to keep me out of the spotlight! He wanted to keep my star from shining too brightly!"

"They wouldn't do that," Rubber Boy is quick to protest, rather vehemently too as if Buggy just insulted his entire lineage. "You don't know her, and you don't know Shanks. Don't talk about them that way."

"I bet I know her far better than you do, Rubber Boy." He smirks and raises a knowing eyebrow at the kid. "Does she still snatch specifically red apples off vendors when you're in town? Does she still tend to store her knives in her boots when she thinks no one's looking?"

The kid doesn't have to answer. His silence is all the confirmation he needs, and it makes him feel victorious in some sense. 

"Let me ask you something else, then. How'd the famous Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates get stuck with a simple-minded nobody like you? What did you do that was so special that she decided to stick around until now?" 

The damn brat doesn't answer.

He presses on. "Apparently, she made a promise to someone, and though I have a sneaking suspicion as to whom, I don't want to jump the gun." He grasps harshly at the kid's face, no longer smiling. "You know, and if you tell me, I might be convinced to lessen the restraints."

The damn brat still doesn't fucking answer, and it vexes him greatly. Even so, if there's one thing he's learned, it's that the kid's silence can be substituted for an answer.

So, he finally asks the billion-berry question: 

"Was it Shanks?"

Rubber Boy does not answer. He doesn't fucking answer, and Buggy's patience snaps like a twig.

You would be willing to go through all of this trouble, to keep the kid safe and help him achieve his dream, just because you made a silly promise to what was once your mutual friend. You would give up your career as one of the most successful pirates in the modern age, just for that?

Just for him?

Deep down, he feels something carve at him. Carve at the boyish version of him he left behind the same day he left you. Would you have been just as loyal to him as you were to Shanks, if only he stayed?

He does not voice these thoughts aloud. Instead, he can't help but beam, because everything he's theorized up until this point has just been verified. It aches, and it hurts, and it cuts, but even so, he can only smile down at the boy.

"Stretch him until he breaks." 

------

Although you hear a commotion coming from the stage room, and despite the urge you have to just break out and be done with this all, you deliberately remain in your cage. One leg pulled up to your chin whereas the other one rests uncomfortably on the stale ground boards, you do nothing more than let your temper simmer down.

Honestly, what a mess.

You made one thing perfectly clear to Shanks the day you agreed to disband your crew and keep watch on the boy. It had not even been a week after he returned to the docks of Fooshia Village, one arm short and the boy by his side.

------

"I am not his parent. I will not be held responsible for the mistakes he makes when he decided to leave land. I will only keep him alive until I decide he can do that himself; after he's earned his first bounty. After that, I'm off."

"And what will you do after?" he had asked, genuinely curious.

You didn't answer, because you didn't know.

"Look after the lad for me, will you? Help him achieve his dream." He had taken your shoulder under his warm remaining hand and said:

"Maybe one day, you'll find your own."

------

If you'd known that Luffy's dream would one day lead you back to him, you would've been more reluctant to make that promise. At the time, you had little interest in picking up the shattered pieces of your childhood dream, yet it seems that now it has decided to search you out instead.

Or rather, he has.

Your head hurts.

This is not the time for heartfelt reunions if there ever was one. Buggy has only one goal in mind, and that is to get his hands on that damn map. Harming Luffy will serve as a means to an end in achieving that, which happens to clash with your goal. You're not Luffy's parent, you tell yourself, but you're willing to extend the promise to Shanks just this once.

And so, after some careful deliberation, you make your escape. 

You hit the metal once, and it bends significantly. Then twice, and on the third strikes, they bend and crack, finally granting you access to direct contact with the ground. It's never felt so relieving to be earthbound, and you even go as far as to tap your feet a few times to enrich that feeling.

Having most likely heard the noise, two troupe members march through the curtains to see what's going on. The first one barely has the time to register your escape before you lunge. 

You're quick to subdue them, knocking the first one out with an easy choke-hold whereas the other mysteriously ends up with half his body stuck in what remains of your previous confinement. His ass hangs out in a rather humiliating position, but the point is, he's out of the way. 

The adrenaline is the one part of piracy you've missed. The surge of energy that flows through your veins, feeling the air brush your face as you make your move, the warmth in your heart that substitutes any pain or hurt you've ever felt if only for a moment.

You relish it.

You happen to find your weapons in the room, hidden in some crates. Your knives and your pistol, are both unscathed and fully functional, but you know that you'll end up relying on your hands for this. After all, it's personal, and personal matters are handled in a personal way. 

When you're certain the two troupe members are of no concern to you, you exit the back rooms and find yourself in the opening between the audience rows shortly after. The lights have been killed and there's an ominous silence stretching in the atmosphere.

You look up at the terrified audience, and though you're almost in clear view of them, none dares stray away from the view up ahead. 

Said view in question being of Luffy halfway submerged by seawater in a tank, already struggling to keep himself afloat. 

Fuck this. Fuck him.

You don't even stop to coordinate your next move as, as you would've done under ordinary circumstances. No, the moment you spot Buggy standing there, trying to reason with the kid with the promise of belonging and having a place on his crew, you lunge for the kill.

------

All Buggy sees just as you make your move is a flash of sharp eyes that seem to glow in the dim room. There's no word upon your entrance, no sound, not a single warning at all. A shriek resonates through the air, shattering the silence that had unknowingly settled over them, and it's his own. 

The air gets knocked out of his lungs as you shove your fist straight into his stomach. Ordinarily, that specific portion of his would've just straight up dislodged itself from his body, but it doesn't this time. He remains intact, a contradiction to what you had threatened to do, and he falls back several good feet on his back like a kicked dog.

A raspy groan is all the noise he manages to get out, heaving his chest in search of the air that was stolen from him. He throws one arm to the ground and gets his upper body up. 

When he finally manages to somewhat stabilize his line of sight, all he sees as the world remains blurred around him is you standing over him with a dangerous glimmer in your eyes. One he's already familiar with.

This is not his old friend or his old flame crew member. This is Cross-Hairs, the feared captain of the vicious Cross-Haired Pirates. The Beast of the East. The one whose aim never misses, and if it does, she'll hunt her target down to the ends of the earth.

And now, he's officially become your target. No longer a passive one at that, but the only one your eyes are set on. He doesn't know if he's content or unnerved by this.

There are no palpable emotions on your face, but he can read your eyes well enough to know that you're angry. No, angry doesn't even begin to cover it; you're absolutely, positively, completely pissed. 

"What?" He forces out, still aching from the punch to his abdomen. "Going to make good on your promise? Going to finally kill me after all this time? If so, then just get on with it!"

You don't answer, and he hates it even more than he would've had you responded. A part of him wants you to kill him; wants you to show that you care enough about him to just fucking do it.

No, instead, all you give him is a glare. That same glare that's never left your face since he first laid his eyes on you. You turn your full attention to the tank and, with one simple hit, you break the glass to try and free Rubber Boy. You free him, without even a moment to hesitate, and it feels so much more painful than if you’d just ended him on the spot.

He wants to scream. Buggy wants to scream until his lungs give in. Scream at your inability to fully look at him. Scream at your apparent concern for a boy who is no more a pirate than he is a banker. 

Scream, because even after all this time, you still refuse to choose him.

Never him.

[oneemasan]

"I... don't need a wish today - Being with everyone is enough."

Fairytale soiree event by @angelwishess - congatulations on 100+ followers and thank you for hosting the event, i had a lot of fun!!

this is my first time joining a fan event (and drawing an actual card for erice), design notes & clear file under the cut!

jfdghsfgjjksghfdj i didn't think i would have time to draw erice for the event any time soon, but for some reason i didn't feel like working on any of my wips today so i painted the background to relax a bit (and warm up) aaaand ended up with the card done 4 hours later - well, why not!

at the very beginning i wasn't even planning an actual background, but hey whatever happened happened alright (besides, i planned it as a r/sr, and then realized i was having a lot of fun rendering - but not enough motivation for a dynamic pose... we got an in between, i guess?)

at some point, i added firefly everywhere, and the piece ended up looking SO cluttered..... so i erased all of them except the one she's holding - and i feel like i lost a bit of what i wanted to convey, but it looks better than it did before, so it's fine!

on one side, i wish i spent more time polishing the pose, etc, on the other, damn i wanted this done today

actual design notes fr fr this time

my first thought was the yellow dress, and i was almost sure i'd go with it but still decided to do some other sketches for fun - and in case another idea popped up i don't usually ramble too much about her lore outside of dms, but the thing with erice is that she very likely doesn't believe this kind of outfit/event would suit her - since she's a bit more... brash than she'd like, among other things (read : as much as she wishes she could wear fancy dresses, she definitely doesn't feel comfortable doing so because of her usual temperament/sweet self esteem issues, kind of), so upon wearing such a dress she would probably go "wait, this is wayyyy too delicate for me, i need to change back into my usual clothes NOW"

so, i ended up going for the simple white, knee-length dress thinking it was what suited her the best - and here came another problem : it does look the right mix of formal and simple for her, but it very definitely doesn't look fairy-like, at all... at the same time, i wanted to keep the shape, to keep it simple - to have something she would enjoy wearing that would still fit the theme, so i added a butterfly pattern and transparent fabric over the dress - cute and simple enough that she can enjoy herself without worrying too much about how mismatched she thinks her looks and personality are... my daughter she's so precious to me

while i was drawing the actual piece, i ended up adding a bonus layer to her skirt because it looked a bit empty without it - it also helps making the dress shape look more.... logical lol

[dissapointu]

“A Stroke of purple”

You sit cross-legged on the floor of your apartment, a colorful assortment of nail polish bottles scattered around you like a little rainbow. The air smells faintly of acetone and lavender, the latter coming from the scented candle you’d lit to set the mood. It’s just the two of you here, the faint hum of city noise outside and the soft music playing in the background making the atmosphere cozy.

Vi, perched on the couch, glances over at you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. Her usual rough exterior is softened today, her trademark black hair pulled back into a messy bun. Her shirt is loose, casual—no fights on the horizon tonight. Just the two of you.

“You sure about this?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. You’re holding up a small bottle of bright purple nail polish, the same shade you’ve been wearing for the past week. You’ve been talking about doing this for a while—painting Vi’s nails, giving her a little pampering—so now, here you are, with all the supplies laid out.

“Absolutely,” you reply, your voice soft but confident. “I thought it would be fun—something we can do together. Plus, you deserve it. I mean, you’re always out there getting your hands dirty, literally. A little color wouldn’t hurt.”

Vi chuckles, rolling her eyes, though there’s a softness to her gaze now. “Guess I do look a little rough around the edges.” She takes a seat on the couch, leaning back, hands resting on her knees, waiting for you to get started. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

You beam, unable to help the excitement bubbling up in your chest. You pick up the purple polish and begin to carefully apply the first coat to her nails. Vi watches you, her eyes following your every move, as if she’s unsure of what to expect but willing to give it a shot. The quiet room fills with the sound of the brush moving across her nails, and you take your time, enjoying the closeness, the small moment of calm shared between the two of you.

“I’ve never really done this before,” you admit, focusing on your work. “But I think I can manage. You just sit back and relax.”

“I can do that,” Vi replies, her voice low and amused. “I’m curious to see how this turns out. You’re always full of surprises.”

You chuckle, a little self-conscious as you apply the second coat of polish, ensuring it’s even and smooth. Vi’s nails are slightly rough from all the fighting, the scars of her battles still etched in the way her hands move. But that only makes you more determined to make them look perfect for her. She deserves this small indulgence, even if she doesn’t show it.

Vi doesn’t speak much as you continue, but you can feel her eyes on you—the weight of her gaze steady, unwavering. When you finish with the second coat, you set the polish aside and gently pick up the top coat to give everything a glossy finish.

Once you’re done, you sit back and take a moment to admire your work, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “All done,” you say, gesturing for Vi to look at her nails. “What do you think?”

Vi extends her hand, the newly painted nails catching the light. There’s a flicker of surprise in her eyes, a mix of admiration and amusement. She moves her fingers, studying the shine of the polish. “Well, well, look at that,” she mutters, shaking her head in disbelief. “Never thought I’d be the type for nail polish, but… I gotta admit, I don’t hate it.”

You laugh softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I’m glad you like it. You look great.”

Vi lets out a small huff, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Maybe I’m not as tough as I thought I was, huh? But it’s nice. A little touch of you on me. Guess I could get used to it.”

You beam, feeling your heart swell at the simple sincerity in her words. “You deserve it,” you whisper. “You deserve all the little things, even if you don’t think so.”

Vi softens then, her usually tough exterior melting away just a bit. She leans forward, resting a hand gently on your shoulder, her eyes meeting yours. “Thanks,” she says, the word low but meaningful. “I know you mean it.”

You smile, feeling the weight of her touch, the connection between you both deepening in this small, shared moment. Vi might be rough around the edges, a fighter through and through, but she’s also someone who lets you in, someone who trusts you. You lean back, happy to be in this moment, knowing there’s no one else you’d rather share it with.

“You know,” Vi says after a long pause, her lips curling into a mischievous grin, “I think you should let me paint your nails next. Let’s see if I can do as good a job as you did.”

You laugh, shaking your head, but the thought of it makes you feel warm all over. “We’ll see. I’m not sure if I trust you with that just yet.”

“Oh, come on,” she teases, nudging you lightly. “It’s only fair, right?”

You roll your eyes playfully, but deep down, you know you’d let her do anything—because every moment spent with her, even something as simple as painting nails, feels like magic.

“Maybe next time,” you say, as you both settle into the quiet of the evening. But for now, you’re content, sitting together, with her freshly painted nails sparkling in the dim light, and the world outside seeming a little less chaotic for just a while.

And as you sit there, side by side, you realize that sometimes the best moments come in the simplest, most unexpected forms.

[privatehousesanatomy]

Based on the amusement park idea:

How about House goes into a horror house with the reader?

You know, the ones with real actors in it? :D

And House would be absolutely unimpressed but can play the strong protector for Reader who he has a thing for?

(Maybe with a little make out scene in a darker corner? 🙈🙊)

ooh this sounds like fun! i've been in a spooky mood lately so i am actually so hyped for this one!

GREGORY HOUSE X READER

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

If you were to ask House about what he thought about holidays in general, he'd say they were a waste of time while also making the argument that their only good purpose was time he got off work and still got paid for.

He also was not a fan of amusement parks, and he wasn't even sure how you'd managed to drag him along to one. It was a week to Halloween, and the park had gone from it's usual cheery theme to a haunted wonderland, and House wanted zero part in it. And yet, here he was.

"Oh come on, House. Live a little. Have some fun," you urged as the two of you wandered around the fairgrounds. Wilson had wandered off with the team to go find something to eat, but House has spent the entire evening eating so far.

"I'm not going on any rides," he huffed. "Unless you want those four corndogs I ate all over that sweater."

You rolled your eyes. "I don't think any of the rides are cripple-friendly, anyway," you teased.

"Ouch," he said, feigning offense as he leaned on his cane. The air was cool, and it did help the pain in his leg a little bit, but he could still feel pain searing through it.

"But we're not leaving until you do something. Or until the park closes. I guess whichever comes first," you said.

"We'll be here all night then," he mumbled. You sighed and looked around the park until you spotted a haunted house, and there wasn't a long line in front of it.

"If you go through the haunted house with me, we can go home," you promised, and House raised an eyebrow.

"That's it? You're not going to force me to get my face painted like a ghost or anything?"

"We'll go right home after."

"Fine."

It had been years since you'd been inside a haunted house, and from what you could remember, you weren't the biggest fan of them, but you were determined to make House have some fun.

"Are you sure you want to go in? You're not gonna get all scared on me, are you?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes.

"I make no promises," you teased, and before you knew it, you were walking inside the haunted house. It was dark, and there was a soundtrack of spooky noises playing in the background.

"Fake spiders. How convincing," House rolled his eyes as they walked through the rooms. You stayed close beside him, and the darkness thankfully hid the smirk on his face.

As you turned the corner, one of the actors dressed as a zombie jumped out from behind a chair, and you stumbled backwards.

"Jesus!" you gasped, and House burst out laughing.

"You couldn't hear him shuffling back there?" he asked, and you smacked his arm.

"I wasn't expecting it!"

"Who goes into a haunted house and doesn't expect to get scared?" he asked.

"Oh shut up," you mumbled, but every time someone jumped out at you, you had the same reaction every time, and House laughed every time.

"You'd never survive in a horror movie. You'd be like, the first one that gets killed," he joked, moving one of the hanging cobwebs out of the way so that it didn't get stuck on his face.

"Oh, like you'd do any better. You couldn't run to save your life. At least I have that over you," you retorted, and House feigned offense.

"God, if insulting a cripple was an Olympic sport, you'd take home the gold," he rolled his eyes, a smirk creeping up on his face.

"At least I could compete in the Olypmics," you teased.

"Hey! The ParaOlympics exist for a reason," he replied. He was enjoying the back and forth banter. He always did.

Before you knew it, you came to the end of the haunted house, but not without an entire ten minutes worth of newfound nightmare fuel, but before you walked out of the exit, House grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into a corner.

"What are you doing?" you asked, barely able to see the smirk on his face.

"We're gonna scare the next poor bastards that walk through here," said, pulling you closer to him so that you weren't visible to anyone else.

"Are you serious? We're gonna get kicked out," you said.

"Oh come on, Y/N. Live a little. Have some fun," House spoke, mocking your tone from earlier in the evening.

"Fine, but we're leaving right after," you said, to which House nodded his head in agreement.

As the two of you waited for someone else to come by, you started to realize just how close you were standing to him, and his voice broke through your thoughts.

"Have you ever kissed someone under the cobwebs before?" he asked, and you raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't it usually meant to be under the mistletoe?"

"Yeah, but cobwebs are a little more my speed," he teased, and you rolled your eyes jokingly.

"Touche," you said, and House pulled you closer (if that was even possible at this point). He pressed his lips against yours, and you found yourself getting lost in the kiss. So much so, that you completely forgot about trying to scare the next people who exited the haunted house. Not that either of you cared, anyway.

[blushblushbear]

hihi!! can you write poe, cashew, and Cole general relationship hcs? ty!!!

*scurries away*

Poe:

he's very chill but committed

he's not the type to have your pic as his phone background

but he IS the type to have it be an artisty black and white photo of a handwritten poem that he wrote about you and also maybe there's a rose

his energy is very lax but don't let that fool you

he's INSANELY committed

will probably try and talk you into a cemetery date (it's just so Mary Shelley losing her virginity on her mother's grave ya know??)

will try and work some element that reminds him of you into his jewelry

would never ask this but he thinks it would be wicked romantic if you painted his nails for him

very interested in going new places and seeing new things with you

he wants to experience interesting places in this world but mostly he wants to see said places with you

the amount of poems he shows you are only the tip of the ice berg as far as what he actually writes

though he still is the most open about his writing with you

low key thinks about you a lot and regularly checks his phone for you texts and is constantly wondering if he should text first or if that would be too clingy...

Cashew:

IS the type to have you as his phone background lol

Poe is very smitten but subtle about it (until you get him talking which is it's own challenge sometimes cause he likes to keep to himself)

Cash is the exact opposite

the whole world will know seconds of him walking into a room that he's dating someone

has tons of pictures of you around everywhere

uses one as a bookmark

thinks of you all the time when reading romantic subplots

or plots

actually thinks about you a lot when reading

and all the time

loves to have a nightly call with you and talk about your days and what's going down in his most recent read (YOU WILL NEVER /GUESS/ WHO TURNED OUT TO BE EVIL)

tries really hard to do all the boyfriend cliches and does them all in earnest

sends you flowers quite a bit actually

he is just a little nerd who wants to be your Casanova so bad

also wants to see places and experience the world with you but unlike Poe it's like.... normal things (like Cash wants to go to the Eiffel Tower, Poe wants to go solo exploring through the catacombs of Paris/the court of miracles {ya know-- the place with all the dead people lining the walls! romantic! :D})

is always looking for anything fun or cute to do on a date with you

tries to write you poetry

it's--- sweet! :)

bless him

would never larp on his own but if invited to larp he would

also wants to go to a rein faire so bad

Cole:

oh boy this guy lol XD

seems like a very nice normal extremely devoted boyfriend

and he is

but he's also watching you sleep at night from your bedroom window and stole some of the hair out of your brush

"for personal use"

also tracks everything about you to the best of his abilities

keeps a list of everyone you regularly interact with 'just in case'

but also likes to randomly show up and do something sweet

he's the king of OH I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd say hi, I brought doughnuts!

everything he does is very sweet and attentive and thoughtful

well.... maybe not THOUGHTFUL

more like thought out

meticulously

also likes to hog your time as best he can but he tries to be subtle about it

will claim you loudly whenever being introduced to someone knew

'oh, yes hello, I'm Cole, their BOYFRIEND. It's nice to meet you."

is the listener in the conversations

he just loves taking you in

watching you constantly, hanging off your every word, keeping notes about the things that make you happy

I think you also take him aback every so often in ways he wasn't expecting

anytime you get very genuine with him or very loving or affectionate

he has this like--- it's like a weird sensation

like a weird euphoric rush

is it cause he likes seeing you at your most sincere and vulnerable??

or is this what being loved feels like????

is this what BEING in love feels like??????

it's pretty great! very addicting...

in his darkest moments he tries to think of you

you bring him a comfort he can't explain but has never really felt before

every now and then he just comes to you in a daze and clings to you

In one way or another, Cole's had a bad day

He gets a little scared how much he finds himself absorbed by you

and that fear hits him at the weirdest times sometimes

like you too were just having breakfast and this sudden feeling of inescapable dread came crashing in

but then you asked him what's up with that sweet little smile of yours and he's feeling okay again

lots of gifts that are little too personal