#this drawing is an older experimental thing

[marblerose-rue]

click for better quality!

the planes of existence

[otaku553]

Ok so I have been stewing this crossover au in my brain nonstop for the past few days and. I am nothing if not committed to the bit, so. Volume cover redraws :)

Here are the originals:

If you want to read more about my one piece spy x family crossover, keep reading!

So the idea is simple! Crossover reincarnation au where ASL is reborn in Spy x Family. They’re each born separately and none of them are born with the same names as their previous lives, and with no way of finding each other, they each find their own thing to do in the world.

Sabo, too used to the dangers of being a spy, eventually finds a cause to devote himself to again, in preventing war from engulfing the country he was reborn in. Ace, drawn to fire as he was in his previous life, used arson as a means to rob rich people for sustenance and survival, and is eventually scouted and hired by Garden as a fire specialist and assassin. And Luffy, though born in perhaps the poorest condition, grows up happily and takes whatever part time jobs he wants to do.

The thing about Sabo is that, as much as he seems like a young man of good repute and high standing within society, everyone in WISE knows that he is a massive nuisance. Nobody knew in the beginning how a child less than half the age of most of their veteran agents could have the same skills and knowledge in their profession. Sabo was— and still is— hyper competent, and by the time WISE figured out just how much of a menace to society he was, it was too late.

Ace forgot for the first few years of his new life that he wasn’t made of fire, and consequently, received multiple accidental burns. This did not deter him, however, from growing up to be a very skilled arsonist, well-practiced in every which way to start a dumpster fire or house fire. As a teenage he would use this often to draw attention as he robbed rich people blind. When he was caught, he was given an ultimatum by Garden: join them and receive payment for starting fires and causing problems under contract, or face the government and authorities for his crimes. Begrudgingly, he joined Garden, but eventually comes to appreciate that he can make substantial money in his element.

Luffy is Luffy. No telepathy or experimentation, no fancy schools, no gimmicks or secret identities. But he has still lived an extremely colorful life in this world, full of fascinating and kind individuals who have helped him grow up healthy and relatively happy. He goes where he is free, and he takes whatever part time jobs he wants in order to make the minimum he needs to survive.

Ace and Sabo find each other first, in their late teens, and neither of them realize that the other remembers their previous life, but both refuse to separate. (Sabo thinks Ace doesn’t remember, because Ace didn’t recognize him. Ace never saw Sabo grow up past 10, however, so he doesn’t recognize older Sabo immediately. By the time he does realize who exactly Sabo is, Sabo has backtracked and pretends to know Ace from a dream, or from somewhere else.)

Sabo’s attachment to Ace, predictably, causes problems between Sabo and WISE, but by then, Sabo is indispensable to the organization, and they make an exception for Sabo to be able to remain with Ace, so long as Ace never finds out what Sabo’s actual job is. Ace, on the other hand, hides his job because he doesn’t want his brother, who he has just found and who does not know Ace well enough yet, to know that he makes a living from killing people.

And they find Luffy sometime afterwards, prior to the beginning of the Spy x Family canon. Luffy figures out, not long after moving in with his brothers, both of his brothers’ secret occupations and the fact that both of them remember their past memories. He thinks it is common knowledge, however, and so he never brings it up.

[tofupixel]

I recently started learning to use rpg maker (vx ace!) and as a result have become increasingly interested in pixel art. I hadn't really done pixel work since my teens - I do more digital painting and vector art - so while I'm a little familiar and can do passable editing, there's a lot I don't know.

One thing that's kind of perplexing for me is understanding the differences in style between two creators of pixel art. I studied art history and I'm used to the differences being things like brush stroke length or degree of realism... I feel like I'm lacking in lexicon in this new frontier lol

What nuances of an artist do you think are most important to style in pixel art?

This kind of stuff is not really officially studied (yet) so it's all a bit of opinion from me.

Usually in pixel art the biggest differences in styles are which limitations the artists choose to impose on themselves; colour count, resolution, palette... Or more stylistic choices like hue shifting, anti-aliasing style or no, dithering or no, etc.

I personally think there are a huge variety of styles in pixel art, as it's literally just a medium, and I hope you'll agree by the end 8)

Also (imo) there is some seperation between the styles of art for art's sake, and art for videogames, where things have to be clear and readable to be actually playable.

🎮 Old school games:

Sometimes referred to as something like '8-bit' or '16-bit' (relating to the NES era / SNES era consoles), these artstyles usually follow the rules and limitations of the hardware at the time.

This all falls under retro art, most popular styles include: NES, SNES, GB, GBC, C64

Notable artists: Nickwoz, Sandy Gordon, Franken, Cisco

📚 Old school art:

There were also events called Demoscene (still are), where developers would go to a big convention and share their demos. A lot of pixel art competitions were held here, where artists would draw live.

Generally they used to favour a high realism/semirealism style, with lots of texture/dithering, fairly high resolution (if the hardware allowed for it), and adjacent pixels mostly being different from one another.

There are even older styles than this but they are fairly niche and I'm not that well educated. If interested look into some of the old PCs/consoles.

⭐ Modern pixel art:

Usually using more colours and higher resolution, larger clusters of pixels instead of individual ones. Strong use of art fundamentals.

Artists to look at: Adam Ferguson (yes it is pixel art), Snake, Slym, 6VCR, Yes I do Pixels, Gijotto, SovanJedi, JoeCreates, Franek, @8pxl

the rest below are "modern" pixel artists too but I think they have other things in their style that are a bit different!

🎨 Painterly:

Some artists choose to emulate the natural brushstrokes digitally, and keep their clusters large and loose. Usually don't focus on the minute details as much.

@makrustic, @hexh-pixel, Umbohr, Gawrone

🟦 Dithering

These artists all use dithering / texture in ways that make their styles totally unique.

Deceiver, Night, Reo,

💥 Experimental

These artists are always trying new things and honing in on their unique style.

AJ, hby, @ilta222, Alphons

I could really go on for ever, there are so many different styles, cute pixel art, horror pixel art, 1bit (2 colours only), and then adding animation takes it even further, but I think you get the idea

If you want to learn more, the Masters of Pixel Art books have works /interviews from pixel artists of different eras, including demoscene and contemporary.

😊👍

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。HANDS — ITOSHI SAE.

sae doesn’t understand the purpose of holding hands. it’s a bit annoying to try and move around while you’re practically chained to someone else, it feels a bit odd to have someone’s hand lace with yours and keep it occupied, and it just draws this unwarranted attention that he doesn’t like.

he doesn’t hold hands, and you don’t seem to mind, so it’s never really been a concern of his.

not until today at least.

“are you nervous?” you ask, standing next to him as you stare out at the field. it’s a large stadium—there’s a bigger audience here than you’ve ever seen at any of the last few games you’ve been to.

it makes sense, you suppose. you’ve really only been to a handful of sae’s games—and even if you haven’t dated long, you’re well accustomed now to the occasional mic in your face as they as you how you feel about your boyfriend’s win. but now that he officially doesn’t play for a youth team anymore, now that he’s in the big shots with the adults, there’s bound to be more people, right? it makes you a bit nervous, all the eyes on you, but it doesn’t keep you from standing next to him as he waits with his team just minutes before starting the game.

sae only raises a brow at you, looks at you like you’ve grown two heads, “what do you take me for? they’re lucky to even play against me,” he mutters.

from a distance, you can hear a few amused chuckles and a few scoffs of disbelief from his older teammates. for the youngest on the team, sae has the largest presence. he’s already the talk of the hour—you can hear reporters buzzing for an interview and fans chanting his name already.

but he’s unbothered, sipping on his water bottle like it’s child’s play he’s preparing for.

“i know, baby,” you mumble, “you’ll crush them but…there’s just so many people,” you mumble. “what if you trip and fall? that’ll be so many people seeing.”

“i’m not gonna trip and fall,” he grumbles, lips twitching into a small frown that’s almost—almost—a pout, like the fact that you think he’d do something like that is an insult to his pride.

“oh my gosh,” you gasp, “i think someone just took a picture of us,” you ramble, not even paying attention to him. “what if i looked ugly?”

he wants to tell you there are a lot of people taking pictures, and that it’s a dumb thing to say—since when have you ever looked ugly? even your bad angles are better than the average person’s best, but before he can even say anything, your hand tightly grasps his.

he looks down, furrows his brows, opens his mouth to say something when you cut in.

“don’t be nervous, sae,” you babble away, “you got this, okay? there’s not even that many people here, they look like ants from down here anyway. you won’t even notice them.”

and then your hand squeezes his tightly, like it’s for reassurance, like it’s to tell him it’s okay, i’m here. except, he’s sure you’re doing it more for yourself than him—since he’s quite literally fine, quite literally standing here with as bored of an expression as always.

“i’m not nervous, idiot,” he mumbles.

and sae doesn’t like holding hands. your hands are a bit clammy and cold and they’re squeezing a bit too tight for his liking and he can’t move around as freely now. but your thumb is rubbing circles into the back of his hand and…it’s nice. for some reason, it’s kind of nice and he likes it.

he gives your hand an experimental squeeze, and when you squeeze right back, he finds that oddly enough, it’s kind of comforting to be able to communicate with you like this without actually saying words.

it’s okay. i’m here. you’ve got this. i’m not going anywhere. i’m proud of you. you’re all i need. you make me happiest. did you see that? i think that was another camera flash. i’m scared. i believe in you. it’s almost time for you to go. play your best. i love you.

i love you. i love you. i love you.

every tightening of your hand and every small squeeze tells him something that he finds he can understand for some reason—even without words. even without looking at your eyes or your face or seeing your expression. it’s so simple—so easy and…and he likes it.

why does he like it?

“good luck, baby,” you whisper, turning to face him, giving him a look that’s so nervous, yet so filled with conviction, he almost feels that to not play better than his best is of a disservice to you.

“thanks,” he murmurs, tugging you a bit closer by your hand. he finds that’s also a nice added perk of holding your hand—being able to pull your body impossibly closer whenever he wants. “but i won’t need it.”

“no,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “because you’re mister itoshi-sae-the-best-ever-who-never-gets-nervous. my bad.”

he huffs a small chuckle, gives your hand a squeeze and lets out a small sigh of content when he realizes the circles you’re rubbing over his knuckles have turned into hearts.

“don’t be nervous,” he says quietly, “‘s just us. everyone else’s background noise.”

“i know, but—”

“and don’t answer any reporters till i come back, okay? don’t need you having a breakdown on national television.”

“sae!” you whine, “that doesn’t help.”

“see you after my win,” he grins ever so slightly. it’s the biggest smile any of his teammates have ever seen from him—a few of them even gape in shock, but he pays no mind. he contemplates for a small moment before he decides—brings up your laced fingers and presses a small, short kiss to the back of your hand.

“see you after your win,” you agree, giving one more squeeze to his hand.

i love you.

he squeezes back. i love you too.

and then he’s off, and he almost hesitates before he lets his hand leave your grasp while he runs onto the field. he glances back at you, sees the way your hands are clutched tightly together to your chest as you stare at him with hope in your eyes and awe in your expression.

itoshi sae has never liked holding hands—but then your hands hold out his entire universe, and how could he not change his mind?

hi everyone. pls take this very self indulgent and very me coded reader as they overthink sae’s entire game more than he even thinks about it 💀

[minnaci]

gojo satoru x gn!reader · nsfw · wc: 0.7k

satoru's omegan nature has long been a source of contention with his clan. luckily, shame has no place in your bed, much less between your legs. yes, he'll claim you anyways.

contents: a/b/o dynamics feat. omega gojo, brief satosugu, penetrative sex (reader receiving), buttplug mention (gojo receiving), mating/claiming, heavy themes of possessiveness

reader details: reader is called "omega" and referred to with they/them pronouns. they are described as having a hole, but no other gendered or physical descriptors are used for their appearance.

a/n: this is my entry for @lorelune's spring fever a/b/o collab! im a bit late but i hope u all enjoy nonetheless :3

The Gojo clan is steeped in tradition. Old money and older power seeps through their veins, soaks in their roots like the finest green tea leaves in boiling water. 

Their greatest pride— Satoru, the dual wielder of the Six Eyes and Limitless. The most powerful sorcerer of his generation, and of all the generations that precede him. 

Their greatest shame— Satoru. Omega.

It’s funny, though. He’s never felt like an omega. Not when he single-handedly defeated his “strongest” handler at the tender age of six. Not when he grows up and learns to exorcise curse after curse with the barest flick of his finger. 

When he shares his first heat with an alpha well over a decade later, Satoru is still the one doing the fucking. He sees nothing wrong with that. He’s the strongest. Why wouldn’t alphas submit to him? 

Geto does it easily enough, spreading his legs with a sly, easy smile, and Satoru finds great pleasure in taking his best friend apart piece by piece until his big, strong alpha is nothing but a drooling mess in his sheets. 

It’s nice in the way that drinking water is nice. Refreshing. Necessary to maintain good health. But Satoru has always had a sweet tooth, and it only took a decade to instill within him the killer instinct befitting of the sole heir of the Gojo clan. 

Geto never stood a chance against Satoru. 

But Satoru… Satoru never stood a chance against you. 

Sharing heats with you is electrifying. There’s something that feels so right about the soft, hot squeeze of your pretty hole around his cock. Your gasps and moans stoke a fire in his chest— one that tells him to fuck you deeper, claim you for his own. And you are his. Nobody would deny it— how could they hope to defy Satoru’s will, Omega or not? 

“Satoru,” you whine, scent reeking of warm vanilla and aching desperation. Your pleasure is honey for his sore throat, your moans airy as spun sugar. “Satoru, please, please, need you.”

“I’m here,” he pants against your mouth. His hole flutters around the plug that occupies his ass, but that pleasure is secondary to the pure bliss of sinking deep inside your pulsing heat. He gives an experimental grind, and you let out matching whimpers. Oh, Satoru might be the Heavenly Son, the strongest, the most powerful, but you are the perfect Omega, all sticky-sweet slick and heady submission. “Let me have you, Omega.”

Your scent blooms as you clench down, a wordless plea. “Yours! Satoru!”

“Greedy little thing,” Satoru purrs and nips at your swollen scent gland, drawing a pitiful whine from your throat. Still, though, you keep your neck bared to him, allowing him to scent you and mark you as he pleases. It sends a thrill through some deep, base part of him— you belong to him as stars belong to the sky, as rain belongs to the sea. You belong to him as a rabbit belongs to the wolves. You are his in the way that nothing else is. 

Something primal swoops in his gut— some previously dormant instinct brought to light by your ardent adoration. His teeth sink deep into the soft flesh of your scent gland. He has an Omega’s blunt fangs, dull things made for gentle nibbles and playful nips, but what he lacks in biological imperative he makes up for with single-minded force.

He is the strongest, after all. He’ll claim you as his mate— teeth bared an act of defiance against biology, against curses, against the world. Belonging is the rivulets of blood that run down your neck. Pleasure is the forceful snap of two souls into inevitable orbit. Love is teeth in skin, tongue against flesh. 

Your body goes slack beneath him, and your hole clenches almost unbearably tight as an orgasm razes your body in white-hot pleasure. Satoru’s hole clenches in sympathy, milking his plug even as you milk his cock. Your body begs him to claim it, begs him to pump you full, and who is he to ignore his Omega’s siren song? He spills into you, thick and hot, and copper-iron-metal drips from his fangs as he wills your impossible bond into reality. 

To be Gojo Satoru is to live alone and in defiance— of his clan, of his restrictions, of his nature. To be Gojo Satoru’s mate is the opposite. He will never let you walk this world alone. 

“Omega,” he growls, because that is what you are. Satoru’s Omega.

“Satoru,” you whine back, and that, too, sounds just right. Your Satoru.

[carrill]

i have a soft spot for doctor themed porn. just going in for a checkup and having a hot older doctor tell me that my bloodwork came back with just a little lower testosterone than it should have, but there's a nice way to bump it up. it's a medical procedure, perfectly standard and safe, even if it's a little uncommon, he says, as i lie on the table and he takes off my underwear. i can feel the cold drips of lubricant over the curve of my ass, dripping towards my hole. he explains that the mucous membrane makes it really easy to absorb things, so if he gives me a supplement directly, it'll have my levels just right, and it'll be easy since im such a good boy, and good boys deserve to feel nice during their treatment, right?

and the doctor tells me exactly what he's doing and what a model patient i am as he slowly preps and spreads me open. i can hear his pants unzip and his cock presses against my entrance. it's just an easy little testosterone injection, and there's hormones in ejaculate, and this should feel so much better than a needle. just relax, good boy, he says as he presses into me, and i do, because i am a model patient. he's just giving a treatment to help me. he's professional the entire time he fucks my ass, as i try to keep my moans quiet so as not to disturb anyone in the other waiting rooms. the doctor pumps me full of cum, just like was prescribed, and takes a plug out of the draw to keep my hole from leaking out all the important semen he gave me, so he can be sure i get everything i can out of it. it's just an experimental treatment, though, so i'll need monitoring. he tells me to come back next week for a recheck. or, maybe even a house call might be in order, just to make sure.

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

Style experimentation feat. zim and dib (rough chronological order). This is the most fun I've had drawing in a long time!! Still kind of in shock over it.

This all started from Two Things: A.) I've been looking at animatics in preparation to make a ✨Portfolio✨, and B.) I saw some fanart that had me making heart eyes and I still can't stop looking at it.

When I first started this invader zim kick a couple months ago, I didn't think it was going to lead me down this path. I thought I was going to draw some of the characters in "my style", and eventually move onto something else. I don't know HOW it ended up being this sort of retrospective muse for me, where I'm challenging myself and trying new things. Maybe iz isn't the cause, maybe this would have happened regardless of what characters I was drawing. But here we are.

And I am so so so happy for it because I USED to draw like this all the time!!! This is what my sketchbook used to look like!! And somehow I just?? Forgot? That I could draw this way. That there wasn't anything stopping me. And that it would be so FUN. You can literally draw, and make the characters less detailed, but simultaneously more exaggerated and expressive, AND you can make more drawings in less time?? Ive always been a quantity over quality person when it comes to drawing, and i think its the animator in me that loves drawing like that. I was drawing all day yesterday. I didn't want to put the pencil down, and it's been a long time since I've felt that way about drawing. I had so much fun and I don't want to draw any other way ever again...That's just how I feel right now at least.

I swear, I probably come off as the most wishy washy person. First I messed around with zims design multiple times, now I'm inking stuff, now I'm drawing cartoonier. THIS IS NEW FOR ME I SWEAR... its been a long long time since ive let myself draw this way. I guess I just hadn't realized how much I was restricting myself.

Anyway, rough chronological order. The first adult dib page (second to last image) was actually the first one I drew. You can tell from the last page that I used the shapes n such from the kid dib on the older dib to make it look more like him. The big forehead is actually pretty crucial lol

[creaman]

Hi there! I apologize for taking up your time, I am just so curious: When you tackle a comic, what does the process behind it look like?

Asking because I found myself scrolling through your blog once again and couldn't help but marvel at all the beautiful effects you use, at how flawlessly the structure guides the viewer's eye across each page, how the graphic weight seems to always be in just the right places…, and wonder how you learned doing this. Everything you put out looks incredibly professional and I aspire to reach your level of skill 😌❤️

Thank you Finz!! You're no bother at all, I'm an open book. This is such high praise for a guy that really doesn't have a set process, I feel like a hack. Ha. Rest assured my style is still developing. Besides the referencing of the linework and composition of official comic books, (practicing by redrawing panels for fun), explaining the process makes me feel like a serial killer but I will do my best.

(WIP Riddler panel, scrapped Scarecrow composition)

My comics usually stem from a single panel or concept — I like to focus on/emphasise particular panels of my pages, the heavy hitters, the main piece that catches your eye. I know I'm not a profoundly technically proficient artist so I prefer visually interesting elements and formatting, i.e. drawing characters outside their frames, negative space, notation, perspectives etc.

(Kung Fu Panda 4 sketch god I hate Kung Fu Panda 4)

I like to establish 'main focus' panels, the bits of the comic that really, well. make people want to chew on it. This is where the technical effort is concentrated, really, and the rest of the comic is generally build around these concepts.

('Restaurant Balthazar' focus panels)

Textures and effects are done on individual panels first, then the entire page as a whole to even out the unity. Generally, blocking in shadows, hatching for visual interest + middle tones, then textures/half-tones, then highlights.

(Script excerpt WIP)

I'm not a writer per se, but having a vague 'script' in your pages helps with pacing and direction. Comics are a versatile story-telling medium. I only really do scripts for comics longer than 2 pages. An optional but recommended strat is to send your script to a friend for a second opinion.

(Script excerpt — 'Restaurant Balthazar', annotated by @vincepti0n I don't know why he drew a face in the middle)

With the script crudely slapped together, I rough out the thumbnails and composition with the text, prioritising coherence and clean integration of previously mentioned 'main focus' panels.

Settling on a composition sucks the hardest. Drawing is fun, thinking makes brain hurty. Variety is good! Close-ups, wide shots, visual metaphors. Every panel is its own artwork.

The text bubbles are usually added in post, yes, but I'm just one guy and I don't have a writer to call me a good boy for doing things correctly. Bite me.

(Early 'Restaurant Balthazar' drafts)

In addition, keeping the text graphics in mind help create a sounder composition wherein even if the panels don't read cleanly left to right + top to bottom, the text can stagger and create the same reading order effect.

Panels and concepts are constantly tweaked, and my comic process is still highly experimental. A lot of industry standard comics aren't illustrated to their full potential due to deadlines and such — I strive for visual epiphany by treating each panel as its own artwork, and every page as a a bit of a mural.

(Old art hurts the soul)

Constantly experimenting allows you the insight of looking at your current art in comparison to your older works. In more recent works, I've been blocking in more shadows wiht lineart with thinner lines and more line weight, and learned to integrate the subject characters with less plain, abstract backgrounds.

TLDR: I have no idea

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Unravelling the Pact

After back-to-back missions, you and the boys finally get some downtime. Enjoying the nightlife on Coruscant, a stranger is all too willing to dance with you, leading to the boys making a decision that will change everything. Pre-Echo.

Pairing: All Batch x f!reader

Word count: 3.6K.

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: dancing with a stranger in a club, grinding, possessive Batch (but in a non-toxic way), bickering brothers, small insult from a stranger, flirting, pet names, communication and consent are sexy, discussion of poly, first kiss, roaming hands, I guess this counts as friends to lovers?

A/N: I'll die on the hill that Tech and Cross are tube twins, and that Wrecker is a smart/emotionally intelligent man.

This can be read as a stand-alone or as a prequel to Painted Pretty.

The loud music drowned out the sounds of the city outside, the dancefloor vibrating under your feet from the heavy bass as you moved to the beat.

Nearby, tucked in a booth, the boys kept an eye on you. Dancing wasn’t really their thing, especially after the string of back-to-back missions you’d all been running, but that hadn’t stopped you from wanting to let loose a little more. You’d dragged them out of the hotel, having splurged a little on some rooms with comfortable beds during this period of shore leave, knowing you all needed some R&R.

You’d found an okay-looking club where the boys didn’t draw too much attention – they didn’t look like Regs, which opened up a world of new possibilities, especially once they donned their civilian clothes. Drinks were decently priced, and the floor wasn’t sticky, both of which were a win in your books. You could feel the weight of their gazes on you occasionally, but you paid them little mind. That was their prerogative if they wanted to be sourpusses and stay in the booth.

A year you’d been with them, traversing the galaxy, trying desperately to keep them safe. As their civilian handler, you fed them missions and made sure they came back in one piece – the Kaminoans couldn’t have anything happen to their prized experimental unit, after all – and surprisingly, it hadn’t taken long for them to warm up to you, for you to become one of them. The black Aurebesh ‘99’ Crosshair had inked on your wrist six months ago, while the others crowded around and watched, was a constant reminder of that.

“Uh oh, incoming,” Wrecker grumbled, eyes watching as someone made a beeline through the bar towards you. 

All eyes at the table snapped in your direction. Hunter’s jaw clenched, Tech’s fingers tightened around his datapad, Wrecker sat up straighter, and Crosshair’s eyes narrowed at the man approaching you.

Clammy hands on your waist spooked you a little, and you turned to find the culprit. “You look a little lonely out here.” The man who’d approached you spoke. He was a little taller than you and couldn’t be more than a few years older, with tousled blonde hair and green eyes. His smile was warm, as was his body as he pressed closer. “Dance with me.” He insisted, shifting behind you, sliding an arm around your waist to pull your back to his chest and your ass to his crotch, the pair of you now moving to the beat.

At the booth, the boys bristled. Downing the last of the Corellian whiskey he’d been nursing, Crosshair stood. He could only make it one step in your direction before Hunter stopped him. “Vod.” His older brother's voice made him groan, turning back to face the table. 

Hunter shook his head. “We agreed not to interfere.” He points out.

Crosshair grits his teeth. “He’s got his hands on her.” He hisses out, sparing a glance over his shoulder in your direction.

“And she doesn’t seem to mind,” Hunter states, even though it kills him inside to admit it. He was trying not to listen to your fluttering heartbeat or the flirtatious words being whispered in your ear by the stranger, but you were like a damn honing beacon, and he couldn’t tune it out. 

“I mind,” Crosshair answers sharply, narrowed brown eyes focused on his oldest brother.

Hunter sighs quietly. Crosshair’s distrust of outsiders and his jealous streak had always been an issue. It was a miracle he’d taken to you so quickly a year ago - Hunter had been sure they’d go through countless handlers as the war progressed.

Frustration flashed in Crosshair’s eyes. “She’s ours.” He states.

“We agreed.” Hunter leans forward in his seat, silently imploring his brother to sit back down and shut up. Ever since they’d been old enough to talk, they’d formed pacts. And when you’d joined them, a new pact had been added to the list. 

Pact 52. None of them would make a move on you, regardless of the fact they wanted you. 

Your comfort was paramount, and they didn’t want to put you in an awkward position.

“You’d be fine if she went home with him?” Crosshair spits the word like it's poison, shooting a glare over his shoulder at the stranger you’re dancing with, whose hands are grasping at your body as if he’s known you his entire life. 

Hunter doesn’t have a comeback for that. He wouldn’t be okay with it. Not at all, in fact. But you’re a grown woman and he has no say in what, or who you do. If you want to spend the night in a stranger's bed, all he can hope is that you’ll leave your tracker on, insist he wraps it, and comm them if there’s a problem. 

“I would not be fine with it,” Tech interjects, his eyes shifting between his brothers, datapad long forgotten on the table. 

Hunter huffs. “We made a pact. When she joined, we agre-“

“Kriff the pact.” Crosshair spits, cutting Hunter off. “She’s not going home with him. He doesn’t know shit about her.” He presses his palms to the table as he leans down, the booth tucked away enough that no one can hear their conversation. 

The boys fall silent, each remembering the first and only time you'd gone home with a stranger. Shore leave was hard to come by, and you spent most of it with them, but you’d been up at the bar, chatting away with the barman, when you’d been approached. Hunter could still remember hearing the guy flirt with you; Wrecker could remember how he’d reached out to touch your arm. He’d bought you a cocktail you hated but had politely drank, Crosshair had noted, and you’d chatted for a little while. Then you’d disappeared with him, Tech’s datapad pinging a few minutes after you’d left with a message not to wait up for you. 

And in the morning, you’d come back to the Marauder smelling of that stranger, with a small hickey on your throat that you’d tried desperately to conceal. It had nearly killed them.  

“And what happens if she doesn’t want us, or only wants one of us? Could you handle that if it’s not you?” Hunter sighs as he leans back in his seat. This wasn’t a new debate – they often bickered about it – but it had never been this charged. 

Fear and jealousy rage inside of Crosshair. He didn’t want to think about that. You were theirs, and you wanted them just as much they wanted you. It was a fact.

“I-I don’t want her to go home with anyone else either.” Wrecker finally pipes up, looking awkwardly between his brothers and you. You’re still dancing with the stranger, laughing at something he’d said, eyes closed as you grind back against him. Wrecker feels an odd coil of anger in his gut that someone else has their hands on you. It’s a new feeling for him, and he doesn’t like it.

“All in favour of dissolving Pact 52.” Crosshair throws down the mantle, glancing between his brothers. He was tired of holding back. 

Tech lifts his hand a little in agreement, Wrecker following suit. But for it to be dissolved, there had to be complete consensus.

All eyes turn to Hunter, who’s staring at Crosshair like he’s gone crazy. His youngest brother could sometimes be stubborn and hard-headed, but he’d never called for a pact dissolution before. Tearing his eyes away, Hunter watches for a second as you dance with the stranger, taking in the way his hands are starting to creep down your body, how close his lips are to your neck. Fire rushes through his veins. “Go and get our girl.” He growls out his agreement, eyes swinging back to his brothers. 

Crosshair smirks in satisfaction, standing back up to full height. Dropping his toothpick onto the table, he’s on the move again, slinking through the crowd in your direction. Tech follows hot on his twins' heels, tucking his datapad back into its pouch on his belt.

Hunter sighs, watching them go, not entirely sure whether he’s just agreed to the self-destruction of his squad or the best thing to ever happen to them. All he knows is that he and his brothers are selfish and don’t want to share you with anyone else. He turns his focus to Wrecker, raising an eyebrow in silent question. 

“They can break the ice. If it don’t work and she don’t want us, we can blame them.” Wrecker explains with a grin. He wants so desperately to go to you, to put himself between you and the stranger, to feel your body pressed against his. But he also doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so he’ll sit back for now and let his younger brothers do all the leg work. 

Hunter chuckles. Taking a sip of his drink, his dark eyes watch as Crosshair and Tech reach you. 

Lost in the music, you don’t realise the boys have approached until the man behind you – Trent, you think he’d said his name was – stiffens. “Hey buddy, do you mind?” You hear him bark over the song, your eyes flying open as your hips stop moving, finding Crosshair and Tech next to you. Your brows furrow in confusion. 

“No,” Crosshair answers, his fingers tightly wrapped around the man's wrist, prying it from your body. “Scram.” He demands.

The warmth of Trent’s hand disappears from your waist, and your confusion only increases as Tech reaches for you, gently drawing you closer to them and away from Trent. 

“Hey, take your hands off her.” Trent has no idea what’s happening but tries to break free from Crosshair’s grip, worried for your safety as you’re pulled away.

“I know them, it’s okay.” You find your voice, raising a hand in a placating gesture. Trent stares at you for a beat, before his green eyes flick to Tech and Crosshair. 

“Scram,” Crosshair repeats, low and deadly, as Trent meets his gaze. 

Trent swallows. “Eh not worth it anyway.” He frowned toward the three of you, shaking his wrist free before stumbling back into the crowd and turning tail. 

Trent’s words sting a little, but before that sting can settle, deft fingers hook under your chin and tilt your head, and your focus is pulled to Tech. “You look so lovely, darling.” He coos over the music, those soft brown eyes of his skating across your face and then down your body, chasing away Trent’s insult.

You blink a few times, brain pausing. Have you died on some remote planet somewhere and been teleported to a different dimension? Pet names weren’t uncommon – the boys had them for you, and you had them for them, but they were never affectionate. They were shortened forms of names and occasionally just a descriptor. And Tech was…flirting? 

“This is new.” Crosshair’s voice slinks against your ear as one of his arms slides around your waist, and he presses against your back, right where Trent had been moments before. His free hand smoothes down the curve of your side, across the dress you’d treated yourself to and had delivered to the hotel. Life in armour had made you appreciate the rare chance to dress up.

Your confusion only doubles. “If you two don’t tell me the hell is going on, I will purposefully snap every toothpick between here and Kamino and put viruses on all our datapads.” You threaten.

Crosshair glances up, catching Tech’s gaze. They communicate silently, the strange phenomenon you’d witnessed a handful of times over the last year. 

“Will you join us back at the table, please, darling? There is something we wish to talk to you about.” Tech finally answers your question.

Curious, you nod, letting them lead you back across the dance floor to the booth. Crosshair slides in first, Tech’s hand on your back guiding you in next, and then he sits, keeping you safe between them. “Is something wrong?” You ask, now more worried than confused as you look between all four brothers. 

“No, cyar’ika,” Hunter answers, the smokiness of his voice making the new pet name sound sinful, and you blink a little quickly at it, unable to control the strange thud of your heart. 

Silence sits with the five of you for a moment, the four men communicating with glances before Hunter leans in a little. “Were you planning on going home with him?” He asks, genuinely curious.

The question stuns you, and a small flare of annoyance erupts in your chest. “That’s none of your business.” You answer calmly.

Hunter gives a slight nod of his head, conceding the point. Taking a deep breath, he leans back in his seat and rethinks his approach. “It suits you.” He comments, unable to stop his gaze from dropping, from taking in how breathtaking you look in that little dress. 

Heat rises in your cheeks. Another compliment on your appearance. You weren’t used to this – usually, you only received them for your work, for a mission well done. “T-Thank you.” You stammer out. 

Satisfaction crosses Hunter’s face. “You’re important to us, you know that, right?” He asks, wanting to ensure that as this conversation progresses, you know they’re not just after frivolous fun.

Brows drawing downward, you nod. Under the table, you feel Crosshair’s slender fingers turn your hand over, the pads of his fingers gliding over the ink he’d etched into your skin. On your other side, you feel Tech lifting a hand, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of your hair – fallen loose while dancing – behind your ear. 

If Crosshair’s touch had given you a rough idea of where this was going, Tech’s actions took it to a new level. It was as subtle as a Rancor in a den of antiquities. A strange sensation settles in your stomach, growing as you glance at Hunter again. The look in his eyes confirms your suspicions, and you swallow thickly.

They want you. 

After a year of pining for them, resigning yourself to the friend zone, they want you. A million thoughts and questions rush through your mind, none of them sticking or answered. But if they want you, then there's something you need to say.

“No.” You state, catching the way Crosshair’s fingers pause, all four sets of brown eyes staring at you as you glance around the booth. For a moment, you can’t believe you have these incredible men wrapped around your little finger, hanging on your every word. “I wasn’t going to go home with him.” You clarify, eyes swinging back to Hunter, though you don’t miss the way all four brothers quietly let out the breaths they’d been holding. “Wasn’t my type anyway.” You tack on as your eyes betray you and dip for a nanosecond down to Hunter’s lips. 

What would it be like to kiss him? Or Wrecker? Tech? Crosshair? 

The fingers around your wrist tighten, and you glance down to watch the action, missing the look that Crosshair and Tech share across you. The air seems to vibrate with unspoken words. 

Tech broke the silence, leaning in, his voice a soft caress. “That is excellent news, darling.”

Tilting your head, you glanced his way, taking in all the details you adored – the sharp angles of his jawline and nose, expressive brown eyes, and lips that looked oh-so-soft.

A light bump against your foot pulls your attention away from the genius, eyes darting to where a large boot is pressed against the side of your heels. Eyes drifting up, Wrecker offers you a fond smile as you meet his gaze. Heart hammering, you know you can’t keep them waiting.

Crosshair’s fingers are now skirting around your wrist, drawing lazy patterns as Tech rests a hand under the table against your thigh, fingers splayed and curling around you – steady and comforting. 

“It’s your choice, cyar’ika.” Hunter captures your attention, understanding this is a pivotal moment for you all and could change everything. He decides to lay their cards on the table. “We’d like you to be ours. But we understand that’s a lot to ask. We’ve shared everything in life except a woman. You’re the first we want, so there might be bumps along the way – nothing we can’t work through.” He notes. “The feelings aren’t new, either. It’s…well…we’ve wanted you since you joined us.” 

All this time, they’ve wanted you, and you’ve wanted them. All this time, you could’ve been... “Then why now?” You question.

“It hurt, thinkin’ you’d be going home with that guy,” Wrecker answers before the others could, a large hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. “And it’s gettin’ real hard to keep pretending.” He shrugs, hand falling from his neck. “But we’ll keep doin’ it if this ain’t what you want. You’re our priority.” Wrecker is hasty to add. 

You’d never been someone’s priority before, and it comforted you knowing they’d immediately back off if you said the word. You reach across the table with your free hand, sliding it into Wrecker’s to link your fingers with his. Holding the big man's gaze, you give a small nod. “I want this.” You decide. “All of you.” You clarify, glancing around at the four brothers, watching as delight and surprise crosses their faces. “The feeling isn’t new, either.” You mimic Hunter’s words as a year’s worth of weight lifts off your chest. You know there’s a lot more to discuss and many things to work out to keep things fair, but making your intentions clear is a good start.

Crosshair’s grip around your wrist tightens, and you turn your head towards him. Longing and desire swirl in his hawkish gaze.

You only have a moment to commit his expression to memory before you feel the soft brush of his lips against your own, like the fragile wings of a butterfly alighting on a delicate flower. It was barely there, an exploration of the unknown, but it ignited a spark that threatened to consume you both. Eyes closing, you surrendered to the moment, and your lips met again, this time with more urgency and hunger as the bar's sounds faded.   

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Wrecker protested, scowling at his youngest brother. 

Hunter held out a hand, silencing him. Dark eyes focused on your face, and then on the way your shoulders dropped as you relaxed into the kiss, how your chest rose and fell a little quicker with each breath, and the gorgeous curve of your throat as Crosshair used his free hand to tilt your chin for a better angle to deepen the kiss. Senses tuning in on you, Hunter picked up on your rapid heartbeat. His nostrils flared, your sweet scent coming into focus even under the layers of other smells from the bar. With every second the kiss continued, your scent became sharper. 

Catching Tech and Wrecker’s eyes, Hunter tipped his head toward the rest of the bar. The three brothers pushed out of the booth in sync, leaving you in Crosshair’s capable hands while they grabbed your jacket from the coatroom, flagged down a taxi, and settled the tab at the bar. 

Lips still pressed to Crosshair’s, you gasp at the feeling of a warm hand on your back, reluctantly pulling away and opening your eyes, turning to see who’s touching you. Your gaze lands on Tech just as Crosshair’s lips find purchase on your jaw, trailing down your throat. A whine of pleasure slides out before you can stop it, and you watch as Tech swallows thickly at the noise, offering out a hand to you. 

Shakily, you take it, enjoying the contact as your heart races, every nerve alight as you’re guided out of the booth, and you hear Crosshair grumble as he slides out after you. 

“You only got away with that because you are the youngest.” Tech chides him, though the bite to his words is lacking. If anything, he’s jealous his brother took the opportunity before he could. In return, Crosshair offers him a trademark smirk, placing a fresh toothpick between his lips, not at all remorseful. 

The two of them escort you through the club – Tech leading you by the hand with Crosshair bringing up the rear, the warmth of the sniper's hand pressed against your lower back.  

As you step out into the city, your jacket is placed across your shoulders before you can feel a pinch of chill, strong hands guiding you towards a taxi Wrecker had flagged down, the gentle giant holding the door open for you. 

The five of you cram in. Hunter is pressed to your right, Wrecker to your left, while Crosshair and Tech take opposite seats. A tanned, tattooed hand lands on your right thigh as the taxi pulls away and into the night sky, deceptively soft fingers drawing slowly up to the hem of your dress, the red fabric pushed aside oh so gently as those same fingers curl around your body and hold on to you. 

You’re so caught up watching Hunter’s hand roam across your body that you’re startled ever so slightly as Wrecker’s large paw starts doing the same to your left thigh. A low chuckle from Tech has your eyes flicking across the dimly lit cabin, catching the wisps of amusement and desire on his face.

“That little heart of yours is racing, mesh’la.” The smoky rasp of Hunter’s voice ghosts against your ear as he leans closer, making you feel like you’re about to combust. You have no idea how this will work or how the night will end. What you know is that you trust them implicitly and can’t wait to have your hands on them.

[rillsters]

"Prince Charming and his Knight In Shining Armour 💜🖤"

This art is older than the recent one I posted so I don't really draw Eridan's hair like this anymore woops ! This artpiece was more of a very very experimental thing of trying semi-homestuckism (semi Homestuck artstyle) hahaaa, I also tried making their godtier outfits a bit more like what their titles are (prince and knight) too... ^^

[naptimecreature]

ECLIPSSEEEE

I've been sitting on this design for ages but I think it turned out okay!!

Explanation and close ups under the cut!!

I wanted eclipse to be a separate body entity from sun and moon, and also for his design to be slightly older and more extreme per-se by having a more experimental design and colouring. Obviously I took inspiration from a lot of other artists Eclipse designs with the four arms and such. I also liked the idea of a hat like my moon design except with an extra dangly-bit thing(?) to show that there are three Daycare Attendants rather than two (as referenced by moons two pronged hat!!).

I also wanted to showcase that he operates in both dark and light environments through my shading, but I also decided to show this in the colour pallete with the dark contrasting the light colours.

I also didn't add any bells, this was because I was thinking that he'd be maybe a security guard of some kind or perhaps the bells weren't considered in the early stages of the Daycare Attendants design!

Finally, one of his hands is actually a Monty claw! He's got a very unfinished vibe to him I think, and i really liked the idea of maybe the paint being half-assed so it was visibly chipping away on this spare part.

Overall I really like this design and will definitely be drawing him again!!! (Maybe creating a more simplified version)

[parisoonic]

Your stuff is so cool! I've been looking through your older post and all the tutorials you've made and they're really helpful. I've always been kind of self conscious about getting into art so late, but seeing your stuff has really inspired me! I know I still have a long ways to go, but it's still nice to see how far others have gotten. I guess it's kind of a "Other people have done it so I can do it too if I keep going" kind of situation I guess! I don't know I'm not too great with words heh I adore all the tf2 and heavymedic art you do! I only got into tf2 a couple weeks ago, but the fandom has some amazing artist! I love seeing what everyone's done with the mercs. Sorry for the super long ask! Just wanted to say your stuffs pretty cool ^^

thank you so much!!! ;;; im working on a few more tutorials atm...yapping on line weight and quality, got one on the go about background reccession/atmosphere and some musings on 'suggested musculature' when it comes to faces but who knows when they'll be done ;; it's never too late to get into art! I only really started drawing at 16-18, then I took a massive break all the way until i was 23-24 where i started drawing again because I wanted to change careers from vfx/3D to 2d. Flash forward another 6 years and I decide I should probably learn how to draw people so I started this blog! I see so many folks on this website (and insta etc) with AWESOME art at silly young ages (well relative to my almost 30 haha) and it freaks me out sometimes i feel so old and untalented by comparison but i think that's an eternal artist anxiety lol.

Keep at it! - drawing is one of those things i'm not sure if anyone ever 'finishes' learning but there's definitely no timecap on starting! there's SO much to discover and learn across multiple different subject matters, styles and mediums :') lots of fun, indulgence and experimentation to be had!

[vhstown]

42!MILES BOXING AU

a wiki-style post — by @vhstown <3

HELLO this is just some extra background info i came up with for the earth-42 boxing au i wrote about in my two-shot fic time out

all of the ideas in this post i came up with by myself! nothing to do with x reader this is just totally nerdy au rambling (how id envision this au in a comic book / fighting shonen etc)

i don't write fighting stories and im not a boxer so soz if any info is unrealistic i just be making this up fr. it's fiction have fun w it!

spoilers for the fic? i guess? i basically just mansplain EVERY little detail cuz i don't have the balls to write a series

a little contents page for your sanity:

KEY FIGURES: Miles G Morales "The Prowler" // Norman Osborn // Harry Osborn "The Green Goblin" // Wilson Fisk "Kingpin" // Adrian Toomes "The Vulture"

THE UNIVERSE AT LARGE: Boxing generations // Sports journalism // Human enhancement and experimentation // Boxing and the criminal underworld

KEY FIGURES

Miles G Morales / "The Prowler"

The big man himself! Started out boxing with his Uncle Aaron after his father's death as a way to cope and get closer to his uncle.

Aaron is pretty well-versed in boxing and likely competed back with the older generation of boxers in Earth 42. Likely fought alongside Miles' dad Jefferson too back in the day and that's why Miles takes particular interest.

Miles' mom is hesitant about letting him go to Las Vegas to compete (drawing parallels from 1610!Rio not wanting Miles to move out of state for college) but eventually gives in.

I think in this case aging up Miles would be appropriate considering he's fighting adults but who says a 15-17 year old can't take on fully grown adults (fiction!!!!)

Miles gains temporary fame after beating "The Vulture" who is an old generation boxer.

Miles wants to make his family proud and also take the opportunity to make money so his mom can live comfortably but obviously that goes wrong because his manager is...

Norman Osborn

One of the sport's big shots. Has a LOT of the industry under his influence and potentially rigs matches?

Miles' first manager — Osborn takes on Miles but later lets him go because he's not "worth" the investment (which has nothing to do with actually winning as you'll see later.)

Involved in illegal human enhancement and experimentation, particularly on:

Harry Osborn / "The Green Goblin"

The boxer that takes out Miles in one punch and gets Miles' contract nullified

No consistent fighting style, flimsy and appearing to be nothing like an actual boxer but his win streak is building like no other boxer.

He's juiced up on something 😭 This is one of the main plot points of the AU where boxers and other athletes are being experimented on to acquire "superhuman" qualities. Norman is basically experimenting on his own son (for reasons maybe similar to the canon Green Goblin? Perhaps because his son wanted to be a boxer but couldn't because of a degenerative disease.)

Motivation for Miles would be to fight him again but obviously he can't immediately after losing so he has to build up his wins again and so he goes to:

Wilson Fisk / "Kingpin"

Ex heavyweight boxer and champion, probably an older generation of boxers that came before all the experimental stuff and is now a manager and big-shot and rivals with Norman.

His main thing is rigging matches and earning money through betting systems that only he profits from.

Used to manage "The Vulture" who left his contract after being beaten by Miles.

Miles goes under a contract with him after Fisk takes an interest in his win against The Vulture, and now he's masked boxer (which is pretty uncommon I heard so he sticks out and becomes popular again pretty fast) with the ring name "the Prowler"

Miles very quickly realises that Fisk is shady and he decides to break through the rigged matches that he's meant to lose and win anyway which only builds his popularity and the people betting on him.

Fisk sees opportunity in this and decides to let Miles do his own thing so that he can take down his rival Norman Osborn when Miles finally fights against The Green Goblin again.

Adrian Toomes / "The Vulture"

Long-time boxer with an unbeatable win streak, lightweight champion. By the time Miles is fighting him he's on the brink of retirement but stubbornly fights him anyway only to lose.

More of a minor villain at the start however after being let go by Fisk he turns to Norman Osborn and his experimental technology to make a come back and hopefully face off with Miles Morales again.

THE UNIVERSE AT LARGE

A quick note on "generations" of boxers

Old generation = Aaron's boxing era, prime time to be a boxer more about the sport less about the money, fame, etc.

New/second generation = Includes the Sinister Six and experimental work and crime and the whole shebang. Miles experiences boxing through this generation.

Sports journalism

The Bugle is not only a source of everyday news but they have a department dedicated solely to sports journalism!

In my fic MJ is the one who reports on Miles' win however there's definitely Gwen Stacy potential! A rookie journalist doing an internship at the Bugle and might help out Miles on his boxing endeavours (or you could sneak in an x journalist!reader if you're cheeky.)

If you wanted to take a more classic Gwen route you'd probably involve her in the next thing which is:

Human enhancement and experimentation

Oscorp in some capacity would exist in this universe, likely using the front of a company that supports athletes and their development with their technology.

Osborn uses the company's power and tech to fuel the regeneration of his son Harry Osborn and puts him into boxing (as Harry wanted.)

This technology eventually branches out into other boxers in a new-generation of genetically modified boxers — also the opponents that Miles would have to fight, likely in the form of the Sinister Six (including The Vulture.)

All of the experimentations have weaknesses to them that Miles can take advantage of (e.g. The Green Goblin is only a threat if he can land a hit.)

Boxing and the criminal underworld

Miles Morales soon realises that boxing and the sports world in general is just a massive front for criminal activity.

As he fights more and more matches under Fisk he realises the true extent of not only Fisk's world but the entirety of the boxing world in this "second generation" of boxers.

Aaron quit boxing for this exact reason and him and Miles eventually work together to take it down.

Potential for Miles to be the regular Prowler here? It's pretty much open-ended so he could be written as a vigilante with his usual gear or as a fists-only fighting shonen protagonist.

May include some link as to why Miles' father died? I kept it pretty ambiguous in my fic so he could be a police officer or ex-boxer or whatever you'd like — point is, his father's death motivates Miles to take over the boxing sphere!

a note from me

hello hello this is vee! amateur writer and even more amateur athlete (im not an athlete at all 😭)

this is just a post of my personal ideas, again none of this is canon i just put a lil spin on the original villains

if you're going to write this please tag me because id love to see!!!!!!!! even if it's not related to anything in this post AT ALL if you write or draw anything to do with boxer miles please tag me i am Starving

none of these ideas are very refined and open to change / adaptation! feel free to tack on your own ideas too

i highly doubt anybody's read this but if you did i appreciate u 😭🙏

MAKE MORE ATSV AUS PLEASE (frothing at the mouth)

ill edit or reblog this with any other ideas i might have so this is subject to change i guess <3 have a good one

[mixelation]

on storage seals

one really Typical thing i feel fic protagonists who specialize in fuinjutsu do is a whole lot of pre-planning but sealing tons of objects into scrolls. but i get kind of annoyed with this trope when it's treated as some sort of obvious thing or Great Convenience that other characters don't get to have, but.... there's no reason given why everyone doesn't just do this? given everyone seems to have storage scrolls, why doesn't everyone just do what your fuinjutsu specialist does??

that's my approach to a lot of the weirder solutions i have my characters hit on, TBH. why doesn't everyone do this? if you can store bento boxes in a scroll to eat later (example i've seen more than once), surely everyone would do this. did you have to do something special to keep them in stasis so they don't go bad? if you can do it, why can't anyone else? even if it were very difficult to do, it seems useful enough older, genius characters would have figured it out and spread it. is the seal stupid complicated to draw? was this the culmination of thousands of hours of experimentation?

i just don't like "no one else has thought fo this" as reason when "no one else" includes generations of ninja, unless the author can very carefully sign post WHY their character has such a different way fo thinking from everyone else on earth.

all that being said tori has a lot of hangups over suddenly losing every single possession she owns one day, so i think she probably shoves a lot of things into seal storage, particularly the ones where you can key into a special dimension from anywhere (as opposed to everything being tied to a single scroll that could be lost of destroyed). i have to come up with limitations for it but i think an obvious one would be the fuinjutsu equivalent of forgetting your password

tori: great news everyone. i remembered how to open chapstick dimension.

tori: it's where i store all my chapstick so i can access it whenever. <3

tori: (puts all her new chapsticks in with old, only to forget her password the next time she goes more than a week without needing chapstick)

[sincerely-sofie]

5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself

Reveal to me us what you are hiding.

For the most part, I only really draw things to post nowadays! I have a handful of unfinished sketches, but those are pretty much made up of only two squiggly lines on a blank canvas. I’ve been meaning to get back into drawing in-depth / experimental pieces for personal projects, but haven’t gotten around to it. I suppose I have several animations and memes I haven't posted here, but most of them are up on my public YouTube channel? And some pieces of 3D and pixel art haven't made it here either I guess. Ultimately though I've been posting the vast majority of my current art here.

As for older art pieces, though… I’ve got oodles I’m sitting on. Some examples:

[fanficimagery]

Once a Weirdo, Always a Weirdo

After finding yourself in a normal living situation, HYDRA has to go and ruin it by targeting the local school for outcasts and weirdos.

Words: 8K Author's Note: I take no credit for Reader's rant towards the Avengers. It all belongs to Marcel Gerard of The Originals. Wednesday AU where *SPOILERS* Tyler's Hyde was never activated and Miss Thornhill doesn't work at Nevermore. Also, it's canon that Xavier falls fast and it's no different here lol.

At the Avengers Compound, you sit on a barstool at the bar and watch as all the superheroes and their scientist friends continue to mingle even after all the paparazzi have left. You had been summoned to attend an event for some good publicity after helping reverse Thanos' snap, and to be honest you would rather be anywhere else but here.

When they had first brought you and your brother in, you'd been ecstatic to leave behind all the experimentation and poking and prodding some evil organization put you through. You'd gone in a normal teenage girl and came out a weapon who had no control over her abilities. The Avengers took the both of you in, shielding your identities from the government and even the papers, and helped you adjust to everyday living.

But just when you thought you had found a group of people who could understand you and possibly keep you company, you realized they merely thought of you and your brother as children who needed training here and there. Invitations to hang out or even to just talk were brushed aside, and you only ever got to spend time with the older superheroes when they needed your help.

Losing your brother during a mission you never should have been on was strike one, ignoring your cries for help after his death was strike two, and being pushed to the back burner yet again even after you did a lot of the work in helping them defeat Thanos is strike three. So, when the superheroes all laugh at some stupid joke Tony Stark no doubt has just told them, you down the rest of your Cherry Coke and decide to finally take a stand.

Walking towards the central core group of Avengers, you pull your compound clearance badge out from your back pocket and toss it on the glass coffee table that's in the middle of the group. Talking and laughter ceases, and everyone glances at you. "I'm out." You say.

As you turn to walk away, Tony huffs and draws your attention back. "What do you mean you're out?"

"It means exactly what you think, Stark. I quit. I'm done."

"You can't just quit."

"And why not?" Against your will, your eyes start to fill with tears and Tony's jaw drops in surprise. The tension thickens as you glance between every so-called Avenger. "I've done everything that you have asked of me. And for what?"

"Excuse me?" Tony asks, offended you'd say such a thing.

"I joined your stupid team," you say, glancing between him and Steve. "I left what little friends I managed to make in the dust because that's what you all needed."

"YN…" Natasha softly calls out to you and you stare at her with your bottom lip trembling.

"I fought for Earth. I kept Peter breathing," you cry, angrily swiping at your tears as your emotions finally bubble over. Then glancing at Doctor Strange, you sneer at him. "I even kept Ebony Maw from piercing your cold… black… heart. I did everything!"

"Sweetheart…" Bucky takes a step towards you in hopes of calming you down, but you take a step back with a shake of your head.

"Anyone who's not an official Avenger is nothing to any of you. Nothing."

"That's not true." Peter Parker steps forward then, his earnest expression giving you pause. "YN, you are an Avenger. You're my- you're my friend. You're one of the best of us."

"No, I'm not." You take a step back. "Not anymore."

As you turn to walk away, no one utters a word.

No one dares to interrupt you when you're packing your bags, and no one stops you when you walk out the front door.

Only when you're outside the compound gates do you allow yourself to exhale in relief, but that relief is short-lived when you realize you have no idea where you're going to go.

"Oy vey," you mutter. You really should have thought this through more.

Six Months Later

When you'd left the Avengers, you thought you'd travel the states for a while before you found a place to settle in. Instead, you found yourself in a small town by the name of Jericho that was only a few hours away from where you left and found a little Bed and Breakfast whose owner gave you a deal for a semi-permanent room when she found out you had no family and no place to go. All she asked in return was that you help her out since she was getting up there in age and couldn't move like she used you. You easily agreed.

For a half a year, you never strayed too far from Josie's B&B. The older woman was surprised you knew your way around leaky faucets and could replace the inner workings of a toilet, and you nearly gave her a heart attack when she found you on the roof replacing missing shingles, so the ceiling didn't leak when it rained.

The B&B didn't get many visitors, but you noticed an uptick in people willing to stay there after you started tackling the overgrown lawn and making the place look more inviting.

"I'm heading out," you tell Josie one morning. "Do you need anything?"

"No, my dear. I'm fine."

"Well, I have my phone on me. If you need anything, just call. I'll pick it up on the way home."

Home.

You never thought you'd have a home again, but that's exactly what Josie's given you. And if her pleased little smile is anything to go by whenever you refer to the B&B as home, she knows it too.

"Alright. I'll see you later."

Jericho is such a picturesque little town that it never ceases to amaze you when you walk around town. You've wandered around every now and then, but you always kept to yourself. The only place you did visit was Weathervane Cafe, but only during the nighttime hours when most locals would be safely tucked away in their homes.

The cafe is the exact place you're heading to this morning, though, intent on getting a hot cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich.

When the bell jingles upon your entrance, the barista glances up from the book he'd been reading.

"Hey!" Tyler, who you'd gotten to know a bit since you started visiting, smiles as you walk up to the counter. "You're here early. You want your usual?"

"My usual coffee, yes," you say while taking a seat on a stool by the front counter. "And can I have a breakfast sandwich?"

"Sure. Coming right up."

It doesn't take Tyler long to get your order ready and you're surprised when he joins you at the counter with his own sandwich. Then again, there was only two other people in the cafe and Tyler obviously wasn't busy.

"So, what brings you in this morning?" He asks.

"Hunger." You take a bite out of your egg, ham, and cheese sandwich, groaning in delight as you cross your eyes. Tyler huffs in amusement, watching you wash the food down with a careful sip of coffee. "And I just wanted to get out. Stretch the legs, y'know?"

"Yeah. How's Josie?"

"Josie's good." You eat a bit more, wiping the crumbs away from the corner of your mouth. "She's enjoying the B&B now that people are booking her rooms."

"None of that wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you."

You shrug. "Maybe." You eat the last of your sandwich, frowning when there's no more. They really needed to make their sandwiches bigger. "Hey, can I have another?" You ask him.

"Sure." Tyler chuckles as he quickly finishes off his sandwich, moving back behind the counter to grab you another one.

When he hands it over, you happily dig in while he refreshes your coffee.

You're halfway through with your sandwich when Tyler's wiping down the counter and the bell above the door jingles. You watch as Tyler glances up and don't even need to turn around to know who it is. Tyler's smile tells you all you need to know.

"You're here earlier than normal."

"Hello, Wednesday," you muse. She takes a seat to your left and you smile at her. Her deadpan expressions were something that threw you off when you first met the girl, but you grew accustomed to her sometimes-morbid humor and the odd threats here and there. "What brings you in?"

"Coffee."

"Her boyfriend," the person to your right says at the same time. You turn towards the voice, surprised to see another guy around the same age as Wednesday and Tyler. When he gets a good look at you, he seems to sit a little straighter while running a hand nervously through his shoulder length hair. "Uh, hi. I'm Xavier."

Your lips twitch while you give him a quick little nod. "YN." Then looking at Tyler, you ask, "Can you get me Josie's special to go please?"

"Sure."

"Why are you here?" Wednesday asks.

"Hunger and fresh air. Why are you? Shouldn't you be in class, young lady?"

Wednesday's eyes roll. "We're the same age."

You chuckle and then Xavier's drawing your attention once more. "I'm sorry, but are you new here? I've never seen you around before."

"I got in a few months ago. I just prefer to wander when the moon's out, but I was extra hungry this morning."

"She's totally a vampire," Wednesday says.

And while you find amusement in her words, Xavier's eyes widen as he apparently takes her seriously. "She's joking. See?" You flash him your teeth. "No pointy teeth in sight."

Before either of your companions can say anything, someone passes behind you with a scoff. You glance over your shoulder to find an older woman sneering at Wednesday and Xavier, and then turns a softer look towards you. "You wouldn't want to be hanging out with the likes of them, dearie. There's lots of weirdos around here thanks to that freaky school who allows them out and about."

Your eyes subtly narrow as you turn on your stool, plastering on the most condescending smile you can. "Ma'am, I am the weirdo." She frowns at you, and you quickly lean forward, snapping your teeth at her. She gasps and dramatically backpedals away from you, and you roll your eyes while turning back around. Tyler is shaking his head in amusement at you. "What?"

"You're a menace." He pushes forward Josie's usual order and you take out a twenty to cover both your and Josie's breakfast, then shoving a ten into the tip jar. "Thanks."

"No problem." Taking one last gulp of your coffee, you grab up Josie's order and then stand. "Well, it was nice meeting you Xavier," you smile at him. Then glancing at your friends, you say, "Tyler, I'll see you next time. Wednesday…" you trail off, grinning, "don't make anyone cry before lunch time."

"No promises."

You laugh as you take your leave, heading back towards Josie's. You've had enough socializing for the day.

On rare occasions, Josie likes to leave the B&B and walk around Jericho. Even more so now that she has you to escort her around. The locals are happy to see her, even if they have to paste on smiles for you. Apparently, your little confrontation with Mrs. Clementine inside Weathervane was hot gossip for a couple of days and now everyone was quite skeptical of you.

You're walking down Main Street with Josie's arm hooked through yours when she stops you in front of a salon. She stares up at the salon name, lips pursed.

You stare at her, softly grinning. "Are you looking to change things up, Josie?"

"Yes. I believe I am." You see her reach up with her other hand, lightly touching at her salt and pepper colored hair. "I'm thinking of a new color and cut."

"Well, you deserve to pamper yourself. The B&B has been doing great."

"It's all thanks to you, dearie." Josie looks at you, patting your hand with a smile. "Now why don't you go hang out with that Tyler boy while you wait for me. It'll take a while."

"Yes, ma'am."

You escort Josie inside the salon, making sure she's taken care of before you leave her alone. Then walking back outside, you head towards Weathervane Cafe to bother Tyler. Only before you get there, you nearly run into Xavier as you turn the corner. His hands loosely wrap around your biceps, trying to steer you to the side as he immediately apologizes.

He glances at you and then does a double take, and you grin. "Xavier."

"YN." He slowly smiles, letting his hands fall away to sheepishly tuck away in the pockets of his jacket. "This is twice in one week. Tyler said it's rare you're out in public."

"Tyler said, huh?" You ask, arching an eyebrow. "Been asking about me, have you?"

"Maybe." His lips twitch in amusement. He glances around and sees you're alone. "Are you grabbing lunch this time?"

"I was just going to annoy Tyler, but I think I can eat. I just dropped off Josie at the salon, so I have hours to kill."

"Cool. Do you, uh, do you want some company?"

"Sure. Let's grab a burger somewhere and then take it to Weathervane. I like the atmosphere there best."

Side by side, you and Xavier head towards the only diner on Main Street to buy your lunch, and you can't help but chuckle whenever you glance up at him. You knew he was tall, but the height difference between the two of you is very obvious when you're this close to one another.

The two of you get the same thing- a cheeseburger and fries- and take it to go.

At Weathervane Cafe, you and Xavier take a seat in a booth near the door and wave at Tyler when he notices you're there. The two of you unpack your food, splitting the ketchup packets and then digging in.

"So, YN…" Xavier muses. "Why Jericho?"

You take a bite of your burger, chewing thoughtfully. "It was just supposed to be a pitstop," you settle for saying.

"Oh? Where were you supposed to settle then?"

"Anywhere." You shrug. Xavier meets your gaze then, chewing slowly. You say, "I was staying in Upstate New York for the last few years. These people had taken me in and… I don't know. It just felt like I overstayed my welcome with them or something, so I left."

"You left?"

"Mhm. I for sure thought I'd end up traveling further, but I stopped by Josie's B&B to figure out my next direction, and I just never left. I think Josie realized I had no home, so she gave me one. I'll never be able to fully repay her for it."

"I don't know about that," he muses. "I'm pretty sure Josie was only months away from shutting down the B&B, but then you walked into her life and completely transformed the place. I don't think any of us have seen her as happy as she is now."

You blush at his slight praise, and he grins. You busy yourself with your food before asking, "So Nevermore Academy? What year are you in?"

He seems to perk up a little, probably happy that you're interested to talk about his schooling rather than putting the place down. "My last year, actually. I'm pretty bummed I'll have to leave soon. I'm hoping the principal offers me a teaching position for the art program."

"You any good?" You wonder.

Xavier huffs and turns to open the bag on the seat next to him, pulling out a sketchpad. He sets it atop the table and quickly flips through the pages until he lands on one of his sketches.

And wow. He really can draw.

On the page is a charcoal drawing of who you assume is a group of his friends (you're only assuming they're his friends because the uniforms are a bit of a dead giveaway, plus Wednesday is there so yeah) sitting around a concrete fountain. "Oh wow. Xavier, this is amazing."

You study the sketch a bit more and when you look up at him, you fight off a grin at his reddening ears and neck. "It's nothing."

"You're talented. Own it." He huffs and eats a bit more since he doesn't know what to say. "Now I just want to get this out of the way, so don't think I'm digging or poking fun or…"

"Go on."

"Nevermore Academy." Xavier grins, wondering when you were going to bring it up. "Is it really a school for gifted children or are the locals just a bunch of assholes?"

"Are you really asking me that after you just rolled with the punches when Wednesday called you a vampire the other day?"

You shrug. "If aliens and deities exist, why can't vampires and werewolves and other beings?"

"Fair enough." He takes a sip of his drink to clear his throat. "Nevermore is a school for outcasts. There are vampires, werewolves, sirens, psychics, and people with other special abilities."

"Cool." You smile and toss a fry into your mouth.

Xavier, however, stares at you in shock. "Cool? That's all you have to say? You're not even going to ask what I am or what I can do?"

"If you want to tell me, you'll tell me on your own time." He can only blink at you while you continue eating. You watch as he carefully tries to read your expression, gauging your reaction to what you just learned. Then he glances around to make sure no one is paying him any attention before holding his hand out over his sketchpad. His eyes close and you frown, and then sudden movement on the paper catches your attention. You gasp as you stare at the sketch that's now come to life- his friends on page, with the exception of Wednesday, laughing at something that had been said. "Xavier," you then breathe in awe. You chance a look at his face, his eyes now open as he sheepishly smiles. "You're amazing, you know that?"

He chuckles. "It's just a moving picture. I can actually bring animals and insects to life to where they crawl off the page, but I didn't want to freak you out."

"You'll have to show me one day," you say.

"Yeah. I will."

You and Xavier continue to talk even after your food is gone, and he ends up buying pastries for dessert. Tyler joins you every now and then when he doesn't have a customer to tend to, and before you know it Josie is entering Weathervane Cafe to show off her new do.

Gone is the salt and pepper hair that fell to her mid-back in a low ponytail.

Now, she sports an edgy bob with an undercut and her hair dyed platinum with just a hint of purple at the ends.

Your eyes widen. "Josie?!"

She beams at you. "Do you like it?"

You gape and Xavier chuckles. "I- I love it! Are you kidding me?! You look great."

"Stop it." She laughs, bashfully waving off your words.

"She's right, Miss Josie," Xavier says. "You look great."

Josie glances at him, eyes lighting up. "Ah, young Mr. Thorpe! Hello there. You were not the boy I was expecting YN to bother."

"Josie," you grumble.

She laughs at you. "I'm only teasing, dear." She winks at you, and you quietly whine in embarrassment. "Anyway, I just thought I'd let you know that I have plans right now so you're free to do as you please."

"Are you sure? I can always-"

"It's a date, dearie. I doubt you want to chaperone Mr. Sinclair and I."

You're back to gaping and you only snap out of it when you see her glance out the window. Outside is who you assume is Mr. Sinclair, a handsome man in his late sixties and is beaming and waving at Josie. "Oh. Go Josie," you then cheer her on for bagging a handsome one.

Xavier snorts as she lightly swats the back of your head. "He's too old for you." You laugh and she wrinkles her nose, chuckling with you. Then, "Well I should get going. Have fun you two."

"Bye, Josie," you and Xavier muse. As Josie takes her leave, you notice a pep in her step as Mr. Sinclair meets her halfway and leads her to his car.

"Huh. Who knew a haircut could bring forth all the confidence in the world out in her."

"See? I told you," Xavier says. "You gave her a new outlook on life. You don't have to repay her for anything. The two of you are good for one another."

You shake your head at his words, watching Josie laugh in the passenger seat of the car. "Maybe."

"No maybes about it." You huff with a roll of your eyes before glancing over to meet his gaze. "Now come on. I hear there's a fair going on. Let's go see what hideous stuffed animals we can win."

Though you continue to claim that you're not a social being, Josie finds herself hiding her smiles whenever Xavier shows up to see if you're free to hang out. More and more you find yourself roaming the town of Jericho with the boy, hoping that your slight attraction to him stays just that. A slight attraction.

But the more time you spend with him, you knew it was going to be a losing battle.

His smile was far too adorable to not completely fall for.

Then one night, after having dinner at an Italian bistro, Xavier's chuckling over how full you are. You pushed it when you had dessert and now he's laughing at your pain.

"Why didn't you stop me?" You moan, pulling a beanie down atop your head.

"I did! I told you to stop."

"Should've tried harder."

Xavier waits until you're settled before offering you his arm, and you're quick to hook your arm through his and practically lean all your weight against him as you walk down the sidewalk. You're moaning and groaning, and he's more than content to listen to you whine.

"I'm never eating dessert again."

"No?"

"Nope."

"But what if it's cheesecake and has that strawberry glaze you seem so fond of?" You open your mouth to retort but let it snap shut a moment later. "Or chocolate covered strawberries?" You groan a little. "Or-"

"Okay! I get it." You pout as he smirks down at you. "I'm a sucker for desserts. It's just my choice in dates that's apparently abysmal. What kind of lousy date doesn't stop me from overeating?"

Xavier's quietness surpasses a moment longer than usual, but before you can ask what's wrong, he asks, "Date? So, I wasn't reading too much into us?"

"Do you see me hanging out with any other guys?"

"Well, there is Tyler."

Your eyes roll. "As if I'd want to get on the bad side of Wednesday." Xavier huffs a laugh as you press into his side, knocking him off balance. "And besides, he's not my type."

"That's good to know."

"I'm sure it is." You mockingly tease him.

The streets of Jericho are quiet, locals coming and going from their own nights out on the town. You're about to turn the corner of one of the streets when the screaming starts, slowing you and Xavier. The two of you tense and look around, backpedaling a few steps when you see people running.

Then gunfire rings out.

"Get down!" Xavier pushes you towards a car, ducking behind it. "What the hell is going on?" He wonders while peeking over the trunk.

"I don't know."

Though your heart is beating rapidly, and you don't want to deal with whatever is going on, you know you need to get to the bottom of whatever is happening. As long as you've stayed in Jericho, nothing has ever happened that would make you out yourself. Now, however, you're not so sure you can walk away from tonight with your secret intact.

With the lull of gunfire, you slowly crawl out from behind your hiding place.

"What are you doing?! Get back here!"

"No. I need- I need to see," you say. Glancing over your shoulder, you meet Xavier's wild gaze. "Trust me."

"YN-"

Not letting him finish, you hurriedly make your way behind another car on Main Street. Xavier is quick to follow, staying close to your side. People start screaming again, glass shatters, and more people run off. The glass windows to Weathervane Cafe have been completely shattered and you see a handful of men in dark clothing and face masks milling about.

"Shit. They have Kent and Divina," Xavier mumbles. And sure enough when you look, you see that two men have each knocked out individual tossed over a shoulder as they walk out.

There are some older locals that get caught in the streets, but after being looked over, they're threatened to keep moving.

"Nevermore students," you realize. "They're taking Nevermore students."

"But why?"

You frown as the militarized men bind the students, placing a metal contraption over each of their mouths. One of the men turns just right and the emblazoned logo on the side of his helmet makes your stomach drop. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn't good," you mumble.

"What?"

"Xavier, every student at Nevermore is gifted. What are Kent and Divina's gifts?"

"They're, uh, they're Scales. Sirens."

Sirens. Hydra just got their hands on two sirens! 

"You need to get back to the school."

"What? Why?"

"Xavier, just trust me." Your hand reaches for the necklace that you rarely bring out from under your shirt, the miniature arc reactor hanging rather innocently from a silver chain as you yank it off. When you squeeze the arc reactor between your thumb and forefinger, it glows blue and you're quick to shove it into his hands. "Take this and get back to the school as soon as you can. Tell your teacher there's a dangerous threat and they found out about the gifted teenagers. Lock the school down."

"What are you-"

You reach for Xavier's face, grasping his face between your hands and pulling him in for a kiss. You linger there for a few seconds before pulling back, gaze darting between his eyes as you watch him try to catch up. "Go. The necklace is an SOS beacon. When the good guys arrive, give them my name. Tell them Hydra's taking gifted children. They'll help protect the school."

"W-What are you?" He asks.

Smiling sadly, you tuck the left side of his hair behind his hair. "I used to be a superhero. Now I'm just… lost."

"YN-"

You quickly peck his lips once more, grinning softly. "Go. I'll explain everything later."

"What are you going to do?"

"Distract them." A small explosion has you and Xavier ducking even lower. "Go, Xavier! Get back to the school now. Protect your friends."

Another explosion sounds, sending debris raining down over you and Xavier.

Xavier falls to his stomach, watching the feet of scurrying people on the other side of the vehicle you're hiding behind. But when he glances back for you, you're gone. He wildly glances around only to find that you're nowhere in sight.

"Well shit."

. . . .

Xavier bursts into Principal Weems' office, panting and heaving and shrugging off the hands of coach Vlad.

"Mr. Thorpe!" Weems stands tall, aghast at the behavior of her usually well-behaved student. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Lock… lock down the school," he says. "Jericho- it's under attack."

"What?"

"Lock the school down!" He then shouts. He shrugs off coach Vlad's hands when he tries to restrain him again. "Kent and Divina have been taken. They're targeting Nevermore students. You need to gather everyone somewhere safe and lock the school down!"

Principal Weems looks to coach Vlad, eyes widened, before addressing Xavier again. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty damn sure. I saw it with my own two eyes. They sedated Kent and Divina, bound and gagged them, and threw them into the back of a van. Other Jericho locals got caught, but after a quick look over, they were released. They were also setting off bombs and shooting up Main Street."

"Vlad, gather the teachers and round up the students. I want a head count of who's here and a list of names of those missing. I'll contact the sheriff."

"Done."

Xavier's left alone with Weems, and he stumbles forward, showing her the necklace before she can reach for the phone. "There's one more thing."

Her eyes land on the pulsing blue light. "What is that?"

"Emergency beacon. My… friend activated it. She said the good guys will come here and that we needed to explain that Hydra is taking gifted children. She said they'd protect the school."

"Do you trust her?"

Xavier takes a moment to think on it before he nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Okay then. Gather the archery team and anyone capable of handling a bow. Get those with telekinesis while you're at it. We'll leave the sheriff's department to handle Main Street and hopefully these good guys will be here soon. We'll hold off any threat until then."

"Yes, ma'am."

Xavier rushes off to do as he's been told, finding his friends along the way. He finds Tyler with Wednesday and Enid, and fills them in about what he's seen. They're shocked and Tyler hurriedly gets his dad on the phone to let him know he was okay.

They find Bianca and Yoko, and the two girls are livid when they realize their friends have been taken. Enid rushes to find Ajax and Wednesday grabs Eugene by the back of his shirt to drag him along with the group.

Coach Vlad and a few other professors are directing students to the main dining hall, urging the older students to barricade windows. Xavier picks out those who can help defend the school and has them load up quivers with arrows to prepare for a fight.

Principal Weems takes those prepared to defend Nevermore out front, and everyone spreads out. The evening is eerily quiet so it's easy to hear anything out of the norm. So, when a sudden whooshing sound gets louder and louder, everyone tenses and looks upward.

"What is that?" Bianca asks, silver eyes scanning the sky.

"I'm not sure." Xavier's eyes dart all across the sky, his gaze catching something glinting. "There!"

But just as everyone pinpoints what he's seen, the object lands right in front of them.

It's Iron Man.

"Holy shit," Eugene utters. "Iron Man!?"

"Uhhh…" Iron Man's face mask dissolves, and Tony Stark frowns at the assembled group of teenagers and a handful of adults. "I gotta be honest. I'm at a complete loss here."

"YN." Xavier blurts and Tony's gaze immediately zeroes in on him. "YN said you could help."

"Help with what, kid?"

He digs the emergency beacon out of his jeans' pocket, showing him. "W-We were on a date and Hydra attacked Main Street. They took two of my classmates and were setting off bombs! She thinks they're coming here."

"Okay. Time-out." Tony gives the universal gesture for a time-out. "You were on a date with YN?"

Wednesday, Tyler, Enid, Bianca, and Ajax all look at Xavier and he blushes under everyone's stare. "So not the point right now, Mr. Stark."

"Right. You're right," he smirks. "We'll talk later." And then glancing at Principal Weems, he asks, "You in charge?"

"I am." She smooths down the invisible wrinkles in her skirt, clasping her hands in front of her. "I am the principal here at Nevermore Academy."

"Alright, so care to share with the class why Hydra would be taking your students?"

"Nevermore Academy is home to children with… special talents," she settles for saying.

"Mhm. Just how special are we talking?"

"The two students they've taken so far are sirens," Xavier says. "They have the gift of persuasion."

"So, in other words, Hydra's got their hands on two future weapons. Any other talents they'd be after?"

"We have vampires, werewolves, gorgons, psychics, and students with other special talents," Principal Weems says.

"To someone like Hydra, it's like Christmas has come early." Tony sighs and taps at his ear. "Park the jet and meet me out front. It's a school and Hydra has their eye on it."

Everyone stands around in a tense filled silence until around the back of the school, Captain America, Hawkeye, Black Widow, the Winter Soldier, and Spiderman all jog forward.

Tyler watches everyone in fascination before leaning towards Xavier. "YN knows Avengers?"

"Apparently."

When all the adults are gathered, Captain America takes over. He speaks plainly with Principal Weems, telling her all she needs to know. Hydra has a habit of kidnapping people, torturing them until they break, and then wiping their minds clean to make the ultimate weapon. They had been in possession of a stone that would give certain individuals powers, but ever since they lost that stone there's been chatter that they'd moved on to finding children with powers already in order to mold them in their favor. And up until now, Hydra hadn't made a move.

Enid suddenly perks up, brushing her hair behind her ear. Glancing towards the main road leading up to the school, she says, "We have company. Several vehicles are heading this way." All the Avengers glance at Enid, wondering how she could possibly know that when she flicks her nails, letting them turn into talons.

"Cool!" Spiderman exclaims.

Enid beams at him while the other Avengers shake their heads at him in fond amusement.

One, two, three- a total of seven Humvees roll up outside of the school gates, but only one is brave enough to drive their Humvee through the gate to knock it down.

"Here we go again," Tony mutters right before his mask covers his face once more.

Individual after individual unload from the Humvees, weapons grasped in hands.

"That's alien tech," Clint says.

"Of course, it is," Bucky utters.

"Bianca." Principal Weems beckons the girl forward. "If you will." She gestures towards the oncoming threat and the younger girl nods.

Stepping forward, Bianca takes off her necklace before inhaling deeply. She can feel her vocal cords slightly vibrating as she says, "Stop."

But the men merely chuckle, one of them tapping at his ear. "Not gonna work on us, girlie."

She blinks in surprise and Xavier quickly tugs his friend behind him.

"Sirens, get inside the school," Principal Weems says. "Hide."

Five students break off from the group, rushing back towards the school. The Hydra men chuckle, shrugging as if that were no big deal. As if they'd get to them sooner or later.

"The Avengers are an obstacle, but it is an obstacle we'll overcome," the Hydra goon in charge says. "Gentlemen, take your aim."

Weapons on both sides are raised, but just as Hydra pull their triggers, another individual is landing in front of the Avengers and Nevermore students.

"YN?!"

Hands and eyes glowing red, you raise your arms in front of you to shield the barrage of bullets and energy beams that had been let loose. You're panting and heaving and have to blink blood out of your eye from a gash above your eyebrow.

When Hydra ceases their attack, you lower your arms with a sneer. "Did you really think it was going to be that simple? You made a mistake coming after my friends."

"Little witch," Hydra goon number one coos. "You're coming with us with all this is said and done."

"Like hell I am. My mind is my own now and Hydra will never make me do their dirty work again."

"You say that now."

Before you can shield yourself again, a bullet catches you in the shoulder. The force of the bullet sends you whirling back with a yelp and then a piercing howl rips through the air.

The sound of gunfire and energy beams fill the air, as well as shouts from Captain America for the kids to get inside the school. Hands steady you and when you glance upward, Xavier is staring down at you with wide eyes.

"What are you?"

The question comes from your left and see Wednesday staring curiously at you. "I. Am. Pissed. Off."

Ripping yourself out of Xavier's hands, you turn around and throw up a shimmering red shield between the two groups. Then marching forward, you start tossing energy ball after energy ball at the Hydra goons, uncaring if they're knocked unconscious or dead. Your feet start glowing and with one large stomp, a wave of red energy shoots outward in front of you to knock the Hydra men off their feet.

"Enough!" They immediately try climbing back to their feet and you wrap red energy around them. Squeezing your hand shut makes the energy wrap tighter around them, and you only let up when a hand falls onto your shoulder.

"That's enough, YN. We'll take it from here."

You can hear voices telling you to stop, but your blood is running hot. After the confrontation on Main Street and getting knocked around, being shot, and having Hydra get beyond the gates of Nevermore, you're absolutely livid.

"YN, stop! You're killing them."

Words aren't registering and the gathered Avengers and Nevermore students shift uneasily.

Xavier doesn't like the expressions the Avengers are starting to sport, glancing at each other warily and having an unspoken conversation, so he takes matters into his own hands. He boldly rushes in front of you, hands grasping your face before he's leaning down to press his lips to yours.

"Ho-lee shit."

Xavier keeps his mouth pressed to yours, turning you little by little until your back is to the Hydra men, and he only lets up when he feels your hands fist into his shirt near his waist. Slightly pulling back, he keeps his face close to yours as you try to catch your breath. "Are you back with me?" He murmurs.

You gulp. "Mhm."

"Good. You scared us there at the end."

"Xavier?" You blink slowly.

"Yeah?"

"I don't feel so-" But you never get to finish your sentence because your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body goes limp.

"Shit." Xavier easily catches you. "I need some help over here."

The Winter Soldier steps forward, and it takes everything in Xavier to not shrink back at the intimidating man. He passes YN over to him and the Winter Soldier easily hoists her into his arms. "That bullet needs to come out," he grumbles.

"The infirmary." Principal Weems steps forward then. "We can take care of her there."

"Show me."

Principal Weems nods and then looks over her students. "Children, with me. Let the Avengers do their job in peace."

Everyone follows Weems towards the dining hall, but Xavier, Wednesday and Tyler follow her and the Winter Soldier to the infirmary to keep an eye on their friend.

A consistent beeping wakes you and your eyelids flutter open. You groan at the brightness of the room and then groan again when you attempt to roll over and your entire body aches.

"Easy. Easy," a voice soothes. You turn towards the sound of the voice and are surprised to find Xavier sitting there. "Welcome back. You've been out for a few days. It's probably why you feel like shit."

You grimace as you raise your hands to rub at your eyes. "What happened?"

"You got shot and lost a lot of blood while you demolished those Hydra guys."

You wince. "You saw that, huh?"

"Oh yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"For?"

"Not telling you about me."

Xavier chuckles as he leans forward in his seat, reaching for your hand. "You're a complete badass. Why would you be scared to tell me you could do all that?"

You shrug and then glance around the room you're in. "Can I have some water?" Xavier quickly finds a pitcher of water, pouring some into a cup for you. He helps you drink a few sips and then lets you lay back down. "What do you already know?"

"Just that you used to be an Avenger. Spiderman, the Winter Soldier, Black Widow and Hawkeye were really worried about you."

You smile softly before it slowly falls. "They rescued me and my brother from Hydra," you tell him. "We were orphans Hydra had kidnapped off the streets. They pumped us full of serums and then made us hold a glowing stone that eventually gave us our powers."

"A stone gave you powers?"

"Yeah. We were one hundred percent normal until Hydra got their hands on us. They used to say my brother was fast and I was weird. I guess I'll never outgrow that label now. Once a weirdo, always a weirdo, I guess."

Xavier huffs a laugh, his smile slowly falling at something you said. "Your brother was fast?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. He had super speed. When the Avengers took us in, they showed us how to be the good guys. We were on a mission and my brother sacrificed himself to save Hawkeye and a child."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you. I kind of lost myself after he died, and I never really found my way back. The Avengers were supposed to be a family, and they are, but it was a family I didn't quite fit in with. The only time they really acknowledged me was when they needed something. I couldn't live like that anymore."

"So, you came to Jericho."

"Technically I was just passing through," you tiredly muse. "But then I met Josie, then Tyler and Wednesday, and finally you. This place is the first place that's felt like home since my brother died."

"Well hopefully Jericho continues to feel like home. They really did a number on Main Street."

"Yeah. That was partially my fault," you guiltily admit. "I got a little carried away flinging the bad guys around and trying to catch their bombs in order to lessen the damage." Xavier chuckles as you wince. "Is everyone okay though? Your friends?"

"Everyone's good," he assures you. "The Avengers think they came here looking for the sirens specifically, but they were no match for you. You're scary when you're pissed off."

You laugh and then groan, pulling your hand from his to lightly swat at him. "Don't make me laugh."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Xavier smiles as he leans forward, capturing your hand once more to press a kiss to the back of it. "Now do you think you're up for some company? Principal Weems would like to speak with you. As well as the Winter Soldier and Spiderman."

Your nose wrinkles. "They the only ones that stayed behind?"

"Yeah. The second Iron Man and Captain America started talking over the merits of training the Nevermore students, Hawkeye and the Black Widow marched them out and told them to not stick their noses in a school that was perfectly functional without government supervision."

"Good." You manage to fight off a wince as you sit up, groaning only a little. "As grateful as I am that they rescued me, they are not the greatest mentors. I would advise anyone with stars in their eyes for the Avengers to really do their research before committing to become a superhero."

"I think the only ones who were super impressed by their presence were Eugene and Ajax. You have nothing to worry about," Xavier tells you.

He ends up calling a nurse and she situates your bed so that you can properly sit up. Then after adjusting the blanket over your lap and getting you another cup of water, Xavier leaves to retrieve your guests and Nevermore's principal.

The tallest woman you've ever laid eyes on walks in behind Xavier, and you have to remind yourself that it's not polite to gape. But something in your expression must show your awe because when you glance at Bucky, he's smirking at you.

"I am going to make this quick and simple so that you may converse with your friends and get back to resting," Principal Weems says. Her no nonsense attitude makes it so you can only nod at her. "I thank you for keeping my students safe. Nevermore Academy will always welcome you should you find yourself in need of a place to go."

"T-Thank you."

Principal Weems smiles at you and then glances at Xavier. "Mr. Thorpe, classes start back up in five minutes. Do not be late."

"I won't." Principal Weems takes her leave and then Xavier glances down at you, eyes wide. "Shit! I have to go. I'm so sorry."

You grin at him. "No worries. I'm not going anywhere it seems."

"Mhm. Yeah." Uncaring for the two Avengers at his back, he rushes forward and gently grasps your face between his hands. The kiss is short and chaste, but makes you blush nonetheless. "I'll see you after classes are done for the day."

"See you." You watch as he collects his purple and black striped blazer from the chair he'd been sitting in earlier, quickly donning it before grabbing up his bag and practically running from the room. When you glance at Bucky and Peter (who quickly lets his face mask dissolve as soon as Xavier is out of the room), your eyes narrow at him. "Not a word."

"Look at you," Bucky muses. "You leave us and you get yourself a boyfriend."

Your head falls back a little as you quietly groan. "I didn't plan to. It just... happened."

Bucky takes Xavier's vacated seat and Peter sits on the edge of your bed. "How did you even find this place?" Peter asks a little too excitedly. "This school is crazy!"

You shrug. "I only knew about it because of Wednesday. She told me the school's name, but I never knew it was a school for gifted individuals. I only found out that fun fact after I started talking to Xavier."

"And Xavier's the boyfriend?" Bucky asks.

"He's… something," you say. At both their knowing expressions, you sigh. "We've been hanging out, but tonight was the first time we really called it a date. Then Hydra got kidnap happy and you saw how that ended."

"Yeah. He totally kissed you to bring you out of your murderous rampage." Peter huffs in amusement. "You're lucky Clint didn't stay behind. He kept looking at that Xavier guy distrustfully and mumbling about teenage boys and hormones. Natasha had to remind him you actually weren't a kid anymore."

"Clint's a good guy, but if he tries to pull the dad card, I'm kicking his ass."

"Fair enough." Bucky continues to stare at you until you squirm under his gaze. Eventually, he asks, "Are you happy here?"

"Yeah."

"You find what you were looking for?"

You can't help but smile. "Yeah. I did."

"Good."

You smile at him and then look at Peter who looks close to bursting. "Anything else, Petey?"

"Can you introduce me to the gorgons?" He blurts. "I really want to meet one!"

"You're going to have to wait on that, unfortunately," you say. "I only know Xavier, Tyler, and Wednesday."

"And what are they?"

"Tyler's a normie, as far as I know. I'm not sure what Wednesday is because I've never asked, but Xavier can draw something on a piece of paper and then bring it to life. It's so cool."

Peter deflates just a little. "Well, if you get to know a gorgon, can you introduce me then?"

"Sure, Petey."

"Yessss."

Bucky shakes his head at the teenaged Avenger before looking back at you. "Well now that we know you're good, we should be going. We've all got paperwork to complete and Hydra to interrogate."

You grimace at him. "Have fun with that."

"I will."

Bucky and Peter both hug you before they leave, and then when you're left alone you settle back down in the bed.

You're sure your other friends have questions after witnessing what they did, but that's a problem for another day. Right now, you need rest. And food. But Xavier will most likely bring that later.

Until then, you were going back to sleep.