#took a break from working on my assignment to sketch this out

[echosong971]

“The Mechanical Puppet with the Borrowed Soul”

—

No spoilers for the endings in the tags, please <3

[britneyshakespeare]

I love drawing in charcoal because when you're in the beginning of a work, instead of looking like something reasonable it's perfectly acceptable and natural for them to look like this

[kermitkrqb]

Muse || Xavier Thorpe x reader

A/N: Do you guys prefer him with his hair up or down? I’m leaning more towards down but, he’s fine either way 😼

What to expect: Gender neutral reader, friends to lovers, make out, suggestive, idk things just escalated lmao, !!!!NO SPOILERS IN THIS FIC!!!!

You had been stuck in the same position for what felt like forever as you sat on the assigned wooden stool. Your arms felt tense and you could could feel yourself twitching. The long haired brunette in front of you chuckled, “Quit squirming. Just 5 more minutes, ok?” You whined, “You said that just before!” Xavier smirked, “This time I’m telling the truth. I’m almost done just hold that pose.” If it was anyone else you would have got up and walked away but, you had quite the soft spot for Xavier. You weren��t sure how you felt about it, or maybe you were just in denial. You first met Xavier Thorpe at the start of the year, sharing the class of botanical sciences with Ms Thornhill when the only available seat was next to him. It didn’t take long for him to befriend you, admiring your passion towards botany as well as art. You gazed at the long haired boy in front of you, watching as his brows furrowed with concentration, his slender fingers at work sketching you, and the sun shining on him just right. You could watch him all day. Xavier of course noticed your staring, secretly basking in your gaze. He noticed everything. His signature smirk found its way onto his face, “Done staring?”

Your mouth fell agape, cheeks flushed at the embarrassment of being caught, “Shut up.” The brunette only grinned wider in response. You cleared your throat collecting yourself, “Are you finally done?” Xavier simply nodded, beckoning you to come look at his sketch. He looked away, suddenly shy as you gasped in response to his artwork. It was stunning, his line work was precise capturing your entire essence, the shadows in his work adding depth to your face. It was perfect. You looked over at the suddenly shy boy, your hand cupping his narrow chin, gently guiding him to look at you. “Xavier Thorpe,” he loved it when you said his name, “you have truly out done yourself. This is perfect.” A soft smile graced his face, “Really?” You held eye contact with his green eyes, “Really.” His lanky arms snaked around your waist pulling you closer from where he sat, “It’s all thanks to my muse.” Your breath hitched from the close proximity, internally cursing yourself as you reminded yourself it was only a friendship. But you found yourself desperately craving more.

A playful grin breaks out on your lips, “Oh yeah? You better be grateful!” Thorpe smirks in return, “I can find better ways to show my gratitude.” The two of you dangerously dangled over the lines of friendship and romance, your heart beating sickeningly quick. Your voice dropped to a soft whisper as you cupped his face, “Then show me.” Xavier lets out a groan at your words, craving you just as desperately. Unbeknownst to you, Thorpe’s had his eyes on you the moment you walked into Thornhill’s class, kicking out Ajax from his seat as you scanned the room lost. “You have no idea how much that means to me.” The long haired brunette leaned in capturing your lips in a kiss you were more than happy to return. His arms pulling you flush against him as he guided you onto his lap straddling him. As you kissed, one of your hands travelled to his hair tugging gently as he whined into your mouth. You took a mental note of course.

You pulled away to catch your breath but, Xavier wasn’t quite done with you yet. His lips trailed down from yours, moving to your jaw and onto the juncture between your neck and shoulder sucking harsh enough to leave a mark as you groaned beneath him before soothing it with a kiss. You were gasping against him as he marked your neck over and over before he met your lips again. There was no fight for dominance as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, that boy would honestly let you do anything to him. You ran your hands through his hair once more as he groaned until the two of you finally pulled away. You gave him one more peck, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Xavier raises his eyebrows smirking slightly, “Oh yeah? You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that!” You grin, “Winner gets a kiss.” He pulls you closer staring at your lips, “Can’t argue with that.”

[kaeyas-beloved]

Holiday Happenings

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Freminet

— spending the holiday season with them is never a dull moment

CWs: gn!reader (no pronouns), fluff, modern!au, Freminet's is platonic/Albedo’s is romantic/Childe’s can be read as either-or, alcohol (Childe), kissing, petnames (love), reader is gifted a necklace in Childe’s but it’s design isn’t described, Freminet might be OOC this is my first time writing him!!

This is my contribution to the 2023 Genshin Secret Santa! @mechalily this is for you and I hope you like it!! ('m sorry for being a little late <3)

Albedo

"You're not seriously working during Christmas break, are you? I thought you finished all your assignments already?" When you entered your boyfriend's dorm room during the evening hours you really weren't expecting him to be hunched over and writing away at some chemical research… thing. Actually, you thought he’d be either sketching or reading. “Albedooo, you’re not supposed to be a slave to the education system for the next few weeks!”

Your little comment left him unfazed as he finished writing his thoughts down before glancing up at you. “This is no assignment love, just merely research I conducted on my own time from my own curiosity. It’s quite fascinating really, and I think it’s something you’d enjoy as well.” While your heart does indeed warm at the thought of him keeping you in mind during his day-to-day activities, and you'd be more than willing to sit and listen to him for hours, you came here with a purpose dammit!

Nonchalantly you stand behind him, draping your arms over his shoulders and resting your head beside his. He gives you a look, blank for the most part but you can see the underlying suspicion in them, a silent What are you planning?. You just smile like you’re not up to anything, even though you most certainly are. Subtly you move to grab something from your pocket, getting ready to reveal it along with your notorious plan.

“While I most definitely want to hear about your research, I think you should be relaxing just a little more and doing more holiday activities or your regular hobbies than something you’ve been doing nonstop for the last few months. And I’ve got just the idea for you,” and with that you pull what you had in your pocket out, holding it above the both of you.

“Kissing me under some mistletoe!! …followed by cuddles 'cause it’s cold please and thank you.” At first he blinks, then his eyes move between your expectant face and the plant and that was all it took for a small smile to find itself on his lips.

“You know,” he starts, shifting in his seat to face you better, “all you had to do was ask. There was little need to go to such lengths.”

“But that takes all the fun outta it!” You pout, still hoping he’ll humour you and fulfill your holiday wish. You even playfully try batting your eyelashes, intending to sway him.

Of course, Albedo never needs to be swayed to give you a kiss, or even cuddles. Besides, who is he to go against the ‘must kiss under the mistletoe’ rule? So, without much convincing, soft hands cup your cheek and lower you towards him, his lips soft and delicate as he gifts your long desired kiss. It’s not too short and not too long, just the right length to make you feel warm and your lips tingle with the memory of him.

When he pulled away he deftly plucked the mistletoe from you, placing it on his desk before looking back at you, his thumb stroking your cheek, eyes full of tender love. “If I recall, you requested some cuddles as well, yes? Let’s not waste any time then, as I too have been craving all that is you.”

Childe

The thrum of the music in the house vibrates deep in your chest, the cacophony of sound mushing together in your head, evoking the beginning of a headache. Leaning against the kitchen counter, you're left wondering how a noise complaint hasn't been made yet, positive everyone within three blocks of the house is ready to riot for their right to peace and quiet.

Taking a sip of... whatever juice mixed with vodka that was provided, your eyes bounce between the bodies and faces of the other university students, each having one thing in common: skipping the books in favour of having some end-of-the-year fun. There's one face you're looking for in particular though, and the moment his bright ginger curls catch your eye you're on the move towards him.

As if sensing your gaze, Childe turns and smiles, raising his own cup in greeting. “You actually came, I’m quite surprised."

You suppress an eye roll as you lightly bump shoulders with him, returning his smile with one of your own. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. It’s been too long since I’ve gone out and had some fun.” You take a greedy gulp of your drink then, letting yourself relax now that you’re in the presence of a familiar face. Childe mirrors your action before setting his now empty cup on the coffee table, guiding you up the stairs to a quieter place. He takes you to the first empty, and most importantly quiet, room he could find before shutting the door behind the both of you.

“While I’m all for a good time, even I’m starting to get a headache from how loud it is. Hope you don’t mind.” You’re quick to dispel his worries with a smile and a shake of your head. Acting like you own the place, you set your cup on the closest stable surface and walk over to the other side of the room - a lavish bedroom now that you take a look around - opening up the balcony doors before stepping out. The cold hits you instantly, but it’s a welcoming sensation against the smothering heat of the party. Childe isn't far behind you, leaning against the banister as he gazes out at the snow-covered city, dotted with lights.

While you're more than content with sitting in silence, your banister buddy has something on his mind, so he's anything but hesitant to relight the conversation, "oh! That reminds me…” he pulls something from the pocket of his hoodie, “this is for you. Merry Christmas.”

He hands you a thin, rectangular box, red in colour and a white ribbon wrapped around it and tied into a bow. By weight and the slight noise it makes when you took it, it was clearly a jewelry box, and the moment you pull the silk off and lift the lid you’re met with exactly as you thought it’d be.

You whisper his name on a breath, picking up and examining the design that hangs on the chain. “Oh wow… this is lovely Childe, thank you!” The male smiles, glad he was able to pick out something to your liking. He watches with eager eyes as you put it on, everything about it suiting you to a T.

“Glad I still know what you like. Now..." He chuckles, a mischievous look in his eyes showcasing the clear tease he’s trying to make, "where’s my gift?” And really, he leaves himself open to your own teases. You can’t help but be a little mean.

“Nice try, but naughty boys don’t get Christmas gifts,” you snicker, crossing your arms and turning away from him. Cue the ginger’s normal antics of practically hanging off you, a smile and a pout on his face at the same time as he pesters you about forgetting to get a gift for your favourite person. These things don’t bother you one bit though, staying calm as an overgrown baby clings and pleads for the gift he knows you got him.

Finally, you give some crumbs, “Okay, okay, maybe, just maybe, I got you something. And maybe, it’s sitting at my house, waiting for you.”

When his eyes brightened, shining with pure delight as he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the party and towards your place, you can’t help but think his joy was the best gift you could get.

And if he’s this happy over hearing he got a gift, then you can only guess how over the moon he’ll be at the life size plush he’s gonna get.

Freminet

"This is your first Christmas away from the orphanage, right?" You ask softly, digging through your box of Christmas ornaments while sparring the young boy a glance. Wordlessly, he takes the miniature top hat decoration you hand him, nodding softly as he stands and places it on the tree.

“That’s right. It’s also the first one I’ll be spending without Lyney and Lynette… so I’m very grateful that you’re letting me spend it with you,” he said, smiling softly. You huff a chuckle, handing him another decoration.

“Of course, it’s my pleasure to have you here this year. I’m just sorry the snowstorm prevented your siblings from coming home.” your words are genuine in nature and for that the young boy nods in thanks, hanging a couple more decorations with you in silence.

Over the years of knowing the three orphans you've come to notice a lot about each of them, and something about Freminet was that he was a quiet child, quieter than his sister at times. It speaks volumes about his character, and through trial and error, you've uncovered the why and how to work your way around it. He's quiet, but that doesn't mean he has nothing to say. Coincidentally, this also works in your favour, a simple segway into your little surprise.

"So, did you have any Christmas traditions?"

"Christmas traditions?"

"You know, opening a single gift on Christmas Eve, the Christmas pickle, leaving cookies and milk for Santa, those kinds of things!" As you listed things off his eyes widened slightly, lit with understanding. He makes a small humming noise, obviously thinking how he should phrase his response.

“Well, I’ve heard of each of those, but the only one we ever participated in was leaving treats out for Santa and his reindeer. I did always want to open a present on Christmas Eve though, but I never asked if we could; I was content with just getting a gift.”

Your smile widens a bit, “why don’t you open one then? How about that one, the red, perfect square one?”

“Are you sure? Like I said, just getting a gift is enough for me…”

“I insist. Please Freminet? Pretty please?” Although reluctant, the boy finally concedes and picks up the gift you pointed out. It was light in weight, as if there wasn’t much or anything at all within. One last glance up at you and Freminet is carefully tearing into the wrapping paper, revealing a bland, brown cardboard box. Lifting the lid, the blond tilts his head, pulling out one of his brother’s signature magic cards. Flipping it over reveals a simple message: Merry Christmas Freminet &lt;3

Confused, he turns to look at you for an explanation only for his eyes to widen in shock at the familiar faces standing next to you.

Lyney flourishes his hat, bowing at the waist, “and just like that, with a little Christmas magic, Lynette and I reappear before your very eyes! Merry Christmas Freminet!”

Lynette smiles softly, not as eccentric as her twin, though the love behind her words is very clear, “Merry Christmas.”

Freminet stands at a loss for words, looking between his two older siblings before shifting over to you. "But... the storm... weren't they supposed to be...?" His lips part to ask you his burning questions, but all you do is wink and lift a finger to your lips. It wouldn't be magic if the magician told their secrets after all. He doesn't need to know you pulled some strings to get them home earlier than intended, simply because you knew Freminet wanted to spend Christmas with them.

And the young boy doesn't push for more from you, instead stepping forward and embracing his siblings, glad they could be home for the holidays. Now, he gets to spend it with all of his loved ones.

Tag list: @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @ajaxstar // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @lemontum // @akiria12167 // @ari-the-wr1ter // @dontmindmebeing // @xiaos-wife // @irethepotato // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx // @leemidnightmoon

[sisyphean-tragedian]

sick day

[it took me Long Enough. inspired by sketches from the talented @nami-ramen and also the fact i just had surgery and wanted to write fluff. the perspective changes a few times throughout the story due to my Horrible Curse]

[honorable mention to my Good Friend @jangles28. they cheered me throught this one. Thank You Jangles] [this fic includes: mentions of illness, normal amounts of people watching, and a little breaking and entering. as a treat]

The detective woke up feeling… not that great, to be honest. What day was it? Friday? Saturday? God, they hoped it was Saturday. Then they could stay home and focus on taking care of Junior, and decidedly not how awful it felt to be awake right then. However, as all things seemed to be going lately, the world did not have the detective’s back. It was Friday.

Great. Good.

First order of business, make themself presentable. It wouldn’t do for Junior to see them like this, so they had to pull themself together enough to get Junior to daycare at least. Then, they had to face the ordeal of going to work and dealing with whatever crime was assigned to them that day. Should be simple enough, right?

The detective stood up, and battled off the woozy feeling they got from doing so. They had a thermometer around here somewhere, probably. They remembered using one on Wanda, when she had fallen ill once, but that had been… a long time ago. The detective shuddered, and opened a drawer in their wardrobe that looked promising. The thermometer lay there, next to some other miscellaneous knick-knacks that didn't have anywhere else to go. Looking at it, the detective sighed, then picked it up and pushed the button to turn it on. 

The reading they got back didn't give them much hope for the rest of the day. The detective had an elevated temperature. Well. Thank God it was Friday, at least. If they could push through the day, then they could take the whole weekend to rest afterwards. The detective pulled some suitable clothing out of their wardrobe, showered, and made themself presentable enough for their colleagues and for Junior. 

The detective coughed, then walked to the kitchen to start making breakfast. Junior joined them on the way. God, had it really been three years? Junior’d dressed himself. and was chattering excitedly about what was going to happen at daycare that day. Something about paper snowflakes. The detective tried to pay attention, they really did, but the aching in their throat and pounding in their head made it hard to concentrate.

“How about cereal today, bud?”

Junior nodded excitedly, which was good, because the detective didn't have the energy to make anything else. The way their throat was feeling, they wouldn't have the ability to eat the cereal either. The detective fixed Junior some cereal, and poured a small glass of orange juice for themself. Thank god they'd had the forethought to go shopping. They should have ingredients for chicken noodle soup somewhere, but they had to hurry up a little to get Junior to daycare and themself to work.

They told Junior to go and brush their teeth, and while he was doing that they searched for the ingredients they would need later, and got as far as the chicken broth and noodles before Junior was racing back to them, freshly cleaned. The detective ruffled his hair, then went to go brush their own teeth. They grabbed some Ibuprofen from the cabinet and took it, praying that it would get them through the day. After a brief coughing fit, they finished up in the restroom and left to go drive Junior to daycare.

They managed to drive to daycare with relatively little incident, Junior chatting about various things that caught his interest in the backseat. The detective walked him to the door and waved goodbye with a smile when Junior turned back to look through the door. After they got back in their car to drive to the office, however, they collapsed into a coughing fit bad enough to make them briefly reconsider their choices on smoking. 

After the detective made it to work, they learned that the case they'd be working on for the foreseeable future was a homicide of some kind. The detective knew that they really should have been paying more attention to the briefing that they had been given, but the headache and their sore throat made it a little hard for them to give the case any of their attention. With a sigh, they sorted through the paperwork in their office a little, coughed again, and stood up to go investigate the crime scene. God, every joint ached today.

—

Waldo strolled along the police tape. So what if he was looking for his favorite detective? He hadn’t done the crime. Perfectly fine for him to be here. The murder looked like one that his detective would be assigned, which did irk him a little (it was his job to give his detective cases, but that would have to wait, for at least a while longer), but the murder was sloppy and it was evident who had done it. Finally, after a little while, his detective's car pulled up, and the investigator of the hour stepped out. 

They didn't look quite right. Waldo stared inquisitively. His detective was paler than usual, and they had a flush to their cheeks, but they hadn't been exercising? Confusing. They hid a cough behind their hand, but due to their… unfortunate smoking habit, that didn't help with the mystery whatsoever. He sat down on a park bench (not too close), and began to watch his detective examine the evidence. 

About half an hour later, one of the detective's colleagues walked up behind them and slapped them on the shoulder in greeting (Waldo wasn't a fan. Shouldn't be touching his detective like that). The detective looked up from the body and smiled at the man, then stood up and started talking with him. That was the intent they had, at least. As Waldo watched, the detective stumbled and had to catch themself on the man's shoulder, leading to some troubled questioning on the colleague's part. After a couple minutes of a growing back-and-forth between his detective and their colleague, the detective turned and stormed away in a huff. Kind of cute, but they had another coughing fit after getting away from their colleague. This one forced them to lean against a nearby lamppost. 

Some suspicions were creeping up on Waldo. Was his detective ill? Could be. That wouldn't be good. Waldo needed his detective at the top of their game, and he knew that although illnesses passed, they could leave lasting effects. That wouldn't do. Waldo began to trail the detective at a distance.

Waldo watched as the detective's colleague found and walked over to them, bringing along some support. His detective turned to glare at them from the lamppost, and after a couple minutes of more solid arguing the detective sighed and began to walk back to their car with a wave. Perhaps their coworkers had convinced them to go rest? Good. 

He would keep monitoring his detective. Just to make sure they got home safely. 

---

The detective was a little peeved. They didn't look that bad, did they? Perfectly capable of making it through the rest of the admittedly very long day and picking up their son and making dinner. Now that they thought about it, perhaps they were grateful that their coworker had convinced them to go home. They could at least rest and start to make soup before Junior got home, so that they wouldn't have to entertain an easily-bored three year old while making dinner. 

They parked their car and walked into their house, minimal coughing involved. The detective proceeded to remove their shoes then walk to the kitchen, with the aim of setting the soup up to boil for a while before taking a nap for the rest of the day. They set the stock in the pot to boil, and started to cut up the chicken and some carrots and celery they'd found in a cupboard. Then, they set out the noodles for later addition to the soup, maybe after they got Junior from daycare. Reducing the heat to low, they threw the ingredients into the stock, added some herbs to the pot, and promptly began walking to their couch to lie down for a little while. 

After they crossed the threshold between the kitchen and the living room, the world got very sideways for them very suddenly. They hadn't even noticed they were feeling lightheaded, really. Well. That left them with the option of either staying smack where they were, or crawling to the sofa in order to at least try to spare themself from future back pain. Their body made the choice for them, however, and the detective slipped into unconsciousness.

---

Waldo had been watching. He simply couldn't help himself! His detective was enrapturing. So, when he watched them collapse through their kitchen window, he began to debate the pros and cons of going in to assist them. They appeared to be dead to the world, so they wouldn't be able to attempt an arrest on him, and if he helped them out a little now, then they would be fit to play his game faster than if he didn't. On the other hand, his dear detective could wake up, and thus spoil all the waiting that Waldo had been doing to advance his game. 

Well. What was life without a little risk, right? Waldo twirled his cane, and appeared before the detective's prone form. This close, he noted that they were shivering, despite the thick sweater they were wearing. Bending down, he gave them a gentle poke with his cane, and all he got in return was a faint groan. Probably safe to pick them up, then. Waldo scooped his detective up and carried them to their bed. Uncharacteristically gently, he lifted the covers aside and set the detective down, then draped the blankets back over them. 

Good Christ, they had been burning alive. Were humans supposed to be that warm? That wouldn't stand. Unfortunately, Waldo didn't exactly… know how to deal with that. THis did, however, present an excellent opportunity to rifle through the detective's cabinets in search of both something that would assist with their bout of illness and more information on who they had been before Waldo had begun his game with them. 

He took off for the kitchen, taking his time in the halls to look at any pictures he saw hanging there. There were stunningly few with the dear detective's late wife, which did make sense from a feelings standpoint. It would be hard to see your dead wife every day, wouldn't it? Waldo assumed so. Having successfully made it to the kitchen, Waldo began rifling through the detective's cupboards. He found the cabinet which boasted several different medicines of various kinds, and pulled out the bottle that claimed to reduce fever and inflammation. He took them back up to the detective, along with a cloth that he had found and soaked in cold water. Couldn't have his detective's brain burning up.

Waldo set the cloth on the detective's head, and set the bottle of medicine on the stand next to their bed. He knew that Junior would have to be picked up from daycare later (he watched), so he set an alarm for 4 P.M. on their clock. Then, he sat and watched the detective shiver under the covers. 

He kept that up for a while. Only to make sure that his detective wouldn't somehow pass before Waldo got to begin his game again. As the clock ticked nearer to four, his detective stopped shivering quite as much. Waldo removed the compress and placed a hand on their head, smiling when he realized the fever had broken while he watched. Standing and leaving the medicine very obviously by their alarm clock, Waldo walked back out to the kitchen and left a letter next to the pot of soup on the stove, then promptly exited the house before his detective woke up.

---

With a jolt, the detective woke and scrambled to turn off the irritating beeping of their alarm. 

Wait.

Alarm? They hadn't set an alarm, they didn't think. And they hadn't fallen asleep in bed, right? The detective looked at the clock, and realized that it was already time to pick up Junior. God, what had happened? At least their fever appeared to have broken while they were out. 

Unsettled, the detective stood up and raced to the kitchen. A little jolt of fear shot through them as they spotted the red envelope on their counter. That explained… not very much, now that they were thinking about it. What had Waldo been doing in their house? Why was he there in the first place? Was anyone dead? The detective picked up the letter and opened it.

"Dear detective, 

Do take better care of yourself. It's not very becoming to fall so easily to illness.

Yours, 

Waldo"

The detective scoffed. It wasn't exactly their fault, was it? Anyway. They stirred the soup, turned the heat down a little more, and raced out the door to pick up Junior on time. 

They missed the flash of red and white standing at the end of the drive.

[orionsstory]

that kind of devotion | anarcia (7)

yayy chapter seven is here :) as always, don't forget to check it out on ao3 !! and leave a comment if you liked it teehee

---

For the next two weeks, Marcia found herself texting Lotus every waking moment. During breaks, during dinner, any free time she had was spent laughing at her jokes or smiling at a picture she sent. She got to find out she loved ducks (through the several pictures she sent of the ones at the nearby park- Marcia didn't mind though) to her favorite song (Boss Bitch by Doja Cat, a song Marcia had found herself listening to nonstop lately). If she was lucky, Lotus would even call her after her patrol, and the two would talk for hours. They mostly talked about their day and the investigation, but sometimes Marcia would slip in a story about her growing up, or Lotus would tell her a story about Sasha. The two had grown much closer in the past two weeks, getting along like a house on fire.

Even now, she was sitting on the couch texting Lotus. She giggled at a text the other girl had sent before she was drawn out of her thoughts by someone nudging her leg. "I need to sit down too, you know." Luxx rolled her eyes as she sat down, handing Marcia her food. "Put your phone down and eat, you've been glued to that thing lately. It's your one day off and you've ignored me the whole morning!"

Marcia takes the food from her, "I'm sorry! It's just so...exciting! We've pretty much gone from talking a few times a month to every day, it's hard not to be so engrossed."

"Aww, she's down bad." Luxx teased her.

"No, I'm not down bad. I'm a lover."

"Marsh, that's the same thing."

"It's totally not! Well...maybe a little. Whatever..." She flushed in embarrassment, rolling her eyes. Luxx chuckled at her,  "Isn't that sweet, you know I haven't seen you this excited over a girl since that one in college...what was her name again?" Marcia cringed at the memory, she had to admit she may have the tendency to fall for people quite easily, but Lotus wasn't the same.

"That's not the same thing. Lotus is different."

Luxx raised her eyebrow, so she continued, "She shows genuine interest in me. She cares about my theatre stuff and how my day is. She texts me pictures of cute dogs she sees because she knows I'll love them. She's...thoughtful. Also, she didn't forget my name after one date, so she's already leagues ahead of Caitlin."

Luxx laughed, "Oh my god, I forgot about that! What did she call you again? Maria?"

"Miriam. She said she knew it was some old lady's name."

"Oh my god, she was awful. I'm so glad that lasted like, two weeks."

"You and me both. Anyways, what were you thinking of doing?"

"Well, since we're all getting together after your show tomorrow, I figured we could just lie low today. We could go to that coffee shop you like and people-watch."

Marcia was sold. "You know me so well, Luxx."

"Of course I do. We've been friends for like 10 years, it'd be sad if I didn't. Now let's go, I want to get a good spot before it gets busy."

-

They arrived at the small shop, setting their items down on the counter facing the biggest window. Marcia took a seat, taking out her drawing supplies as Luxx went to grab their drinks. It had been a while since they had been able to do this- they used to do it all the time in college, watching the people pass by and wonder about their lives while they worked on essays or assignments. They would wonder about their own lives, and what the future would be like. Marcia likes to think her younger self would be proud of where she is now. It makes her smile.

"One tea with honey for you...and an espresso for me!" Luxx hums as she sits the drinks down, sliding onto the seat beside Marcia. She brings out her own drawing materials, peering out the window.

"I missed this. Feels like it's been forever since we've done this."

"I know, it feels like we barely have time anymore. I guess that's what it means to be an adult."

Luxx nodded, her pencil sketching across the page. "Such is capitalism. Ugh, I'm so antsy to get this collection done. We're almost ready to go into production, so my stress is mostly over."

"Oh, I'm excited to see the collection! You're taking me to see the show, right?"

"Who else is going to be my plus one?" She laughs, taking a sip of her drink. "Oh yeah, that's good. Fuck, I've missed good coffee. The office coffee is so shitty, Marsh. Oh my god, it's horrible."

Marcia smiled, opening her own sketchbook as she began sketching some of the people outside. "For a luxury brand, you would think they could afford a better coffee machine." She laughed, scribbling in a woman's dark coat. "Maybe they'll get you a new one for Christmas."

Luxx rolled her eyes, "Please, don't give me hope. Irene keeps saying she's going to fix it and improve it herself but we've been so swamped she hasn't had time yet." She looked up for her next target before selecting a man with a dog. "Look at that dog- isn't it cute? Ugh, I wish I was better at animals. It looks like a rat."

Marcia leaned over to look at the sketch, rolling her eyes. "It looks great, you're being dramatic. That is a cute dog though, what a baby." She cooed, snapping a picture of it before she sent it to Lotus. "How is the collection going anyway? Weren't you guys almost done like, a month ago?"

"Well, we were going through final revisions, but they decided to scrap some of the looks so we had to come up with some new ones. I'm hoping this will be the final round though. I've got some of the early concepts for designs in here though." She answers, flipping through her sketchbook to show Marcia some of the designs. 

She always admired the other girls' aesthetic, Luxx's usual grungy and dark designs had seemed to translate perfectly to spring fashion. Desaturated colors and skirts with purposeful rips and tears turned a skirt into the shape of a flower, an impressive feat. Marcia had seen Luxx make gorgeous designs that weren't her aesthetic, but these ones were special. She always loved it when Luxx could show her passion through her designs.

"Dark forest...what a theme, right?" She softly chuckles, flipping back to the sketch she was working on. "I like it though. I think it'll be our best collection yet."

Marcia proudly smiles, returning to her own sketch of some scenery. They sketched in comfortable silence for some time, Marcia having stopped sketching the people outside and started sketching Lotus. She didn't mean to, it was just sort of a habit at this point.

"That's really good, is that Lotus?" Luxx asks, leaning over. Marcia nods, her face tinged red. "Is she coming to your performance tomorrow?"

"No, but she's coming for my first night as Elle. I'm really excited, I hope she'll like my performance- I've been working so hard on it. God, I hope it goes well, what if I choke?"

"You won't choke. You were like, born for this. You're gonna kill it."

Marcia smiles at her, "Thanks, Luxx."

-

Luxx volunteered for dinner duty that night, allowing Marcia a moment to herself. To debrief, to prepare herself for tomorrow. She felt the nerves creeping up, like they did for every show she had done. She had to remind herself that it was going to go well, that she was going to do well. She focused on the warm water of the shower that was beginning to turn cold- maybe she had been in there longer than she thought.

She stepped out of the shower, wrapping her hair in a soft pink towel before beginning to dry herself off. It was nice, and for a moment she felt calm as she blow-dried her hair, the muffled music of Ariana Grande playing in the background. 7 rings was interrupted by the ringing of her phone, Marcia clicked off the hair dryer as she answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, doll." Lotus' voice came from the other end. "Are you able to talk?"

Marcia hummed, "For a little bit- Luxx will kill me if I miss dinner." She wrapped her soft pink robe around her as she left the bathroom and entered her bedroom across the hall. "I thought you're usually on patrol around this time of day?"

"I am, but it's always a slow start. Thought I'd talk to you until I get a call."

She softly smiled, "Well, I won't complain about that. How's your day been?"

"Pretty standard. I'm hanging out with my coworker soon, but other than that nothing of note. But enough about me- you're gonna be on Broadway tomorrow! How are you feeling?"

"Nervous. Excited. I can't tell- I think it's both." She chuckled, "I know I'll probably do well, but it's just those pre-show nerves, you know?"

"Nah, I know you're gonna crush it."

"But how do you know? What if I...I don't know, trip and break my arm or something."

"I think you'd still perform, even if you had to be in a cast. Don't worry. Besides, isn't the saying break a leg?"

Marcia softly sighed, a smile creeping onto her face as she rummaged through her dresser for her pajamas. "Yeah, it is...and you're probably right. I'm way too excited about this. I just can't believe it's finally happening!"

She heard a faint buzzing on the other line, vaguely recognizing it as the sound of a call.

"Do you have to go?"

Lotus sighed, "Yeah. I do. I'm sorry. Hey- break a leg tomorrow. You're gonna kill it."

Marcia smiled. "Thanks, I will."

She heard Lotus laugh, she could practically see the other girls smile in her head.

"Atta girl."

-

The next morning was a blur. She remembered waking up to a 'break a leg ;)' text from Lotus and eating breakfast with Luxx, but time seemed to fly by after that. Her usual subway ride seemed to take five minutes, and their rehearsal that morning felt like it had happened in a second.

Now, she was in the dressing room with her castmates, all giddy and excited for the show. She applied the last of her blush and made sure her costume was perfect, waiting in the wings with the rest of the ensemble for the first number to start. Many were excitedly whispering to each other, the air in the theatre felt electric.

"Who's here for you tonight, Marcia?" One of her castmates and friends, Plasma, asked her.

"My friends and one of my cousins- we're going out afterward. What about you?"

"Some of my friends- and my mom, she flew in from Texas to be here. I can't believe it's opening night!" She excitedly shook Marcia's arm, causing her to smile.

"I know. Oh! There's the house lights, we're going!" She excitedly whispered, taking her place in preparation. She felt the anxiety returning to her chest, taking a deep breath as the curtains drew open.

They began their first number, which went as perfectly as it could. Marcia hit all the right steps, all the right notes, and stayed in character the entire time. She felt the anxiety in her chest dissipate after the first number, it turning into a feeling of joy. She felt good going into the second number, which turned into feeling great for the entire first act. During intermission, she and Plasma celebrated their success, which meant excitedly talking about the show while they made costume and makeup adjustments for the second act.

The second act also went spectacularly. She could tell the entire cast was bringing their all, and the audience could too. Every time the audience laughed or cheered her drive became stronger, causing her to perform even better. By the time curtain call came, she was exhausted- but proud. As she bowed with the rest of the ensemble, she could hear Luxx's cheers above the rest. She couldn't see her group because of the house lights, but that was enough to put a smile on her face. 

She's able to get out of her costume and makeup fairly quickly, only delayed by her and Plasma geeking out about the show- releasing the remainder of the energy they had for the night. Eventually, she gathered her things and left, signing some things for a few fans at the stage door before spotting her friends.

"MARSHALL!" Luxx squealed, tightly hugging the other girl. Marcia giggled as her friends swarmed her, excitement filling the air. Jan raved on and on about her vocals and dance moves, her cousin was a fellow theatre nerd and they often spent their childhood watching different musicals (and poorly reenacting them). Robin, although less experienced in the theatre world, complimented her performance and gave her a bouquet- which Amethyst almost crushed as she pulled the group in to take a photo.

Marcia feels elated as the group returns to her apartment, giving her time to change into a sparkly mini-dress. She quickly shot a text to Lotus before coming back out, rejoining the girls who had also changed. They took a quick shot of some tequila they had lying around the house before heading to the nearest gay bar.

-

"My girlfriend said she and her friend are a few minutes away," Robin yelled above the noise, trying to keep Amethyst from getting swallowed up by the crowd. "I'm making them get us drinks- what does everyone want?"

The girls shouted out their various drink orders to Robin, drowned out by the club's music. The lights strobed and Marcia could feel her body vibrating from the bass. She danced with Luxx and Amethyst, letting herself go and focusing on having fun- she deserved it, after all. She felt her legs growing sore, but it didn't bother her. She would regret it in the morning, however it wasn't anything she couldn't deal with.

They only stopped dancing when Robin squealed, throwing herself into the arms of a girl who had just walked up. "That's Aura," Amethyst shouted so they could hear, the other girls nodding along. "Who's that beside her?" Marcia asked, referring to the girl who had appeared beside Aura.

She was wearing a short red dress and a leather jacket, and her long light-colored hair was straight and worn down, with some bobby pins to keep her bangs back. She looked like she had some darker streaks in her hair, but she couldn't be too sure with the blaring club lights. From what Marcia could see, she had a pretty athletic build and a scar over her left eye. She felt like she knew the girl, but she couldn't place her finger on why.

"I guess her friend," Amethyst whispered in her ear, "She's hot, right? Is she glaring at us though?" Marcia turned her attention back to the other woman, Amethyst was right- she did seem to be glaring, but she couldn't even clearly see the girl because of the flashing lights.

"Can't tell."

Aura and Robin finally broke apart, allowing Aura to shift her attention to the other girl.

"Oh! This is one of my friends, Anetra!" The other girl nodded her head in greeting. "She doesn't bite, she just has chronic RBF." Aura laughed, Anetra rolled her eyes and playfully elbowed her. Amethyst introduced herself first before Marcia did- she noticed the girl's eyes widen a bit before returning to normal. That was strange, did she recognize her too?

She was going to talk to her more when Aura pulled her away to go get the group's drinks, putting a pin in her plan. That was fine, she'd just talk to her when she returned. However, Anetra didn't return. Aura came back alone, balancing the drinks in her arms.

"Where'd Anetra go?" Luxx asked, taking her drink from Aura.

"She got a call while we were waiting at the bar- came back and said there was an emergency and dashed out. She seemed stressed about it."

"I hope she's okay..." Marcia worried, "Poor girl just got here."

"I'll check up on her later, she's a tough cookie so I'm sure she'll be fine."

That was the last they talked about it, the rest of the night was a blur as they danced and drank until their feet hurt. Marcia tried to tone it down so she wouldn't feel as miserable tomorrow, which worked to some degree. She and Luxx left around 1 am, both deciding to be somewhat responsible. She quickly changed into her pajamas, almost passing out the instant she hit the bed. She shot off a goodnight text to Lotus, who still hadn't answered her last message, which was odd. She worried something may have happened, but she pushed that thought to the back of her mind- she was just paranoid.

[greetingsfromuranus]

I love your art! Do you jave any tips ondrawing in the EENE artstyle?

Thank you!! The best advice I have is to study, study, and then study some more lol. Look at something, try to replicate it, trace over the original to see the underlying shapes, draw the shapes on your own page and replicate it like that, freehand it w/o reference, just see what works! i know it sounds like general advice, but the EENE style, especially once you get to later seasons,is very stylistically and technically complex! You're gonna have to see which aspects of it are intuitive to you, and which ones you'll have to sit down and make yourself learn. I primarily use Raven Molisee's art (lots of stuff on Deviantart and Poshmark more recently) since with his sketches you can see a lot of the underlying shapes and processes! But it would be a good idea to also check out stuff from the rest of the art department, such as Scott Underwood, Jim Miller, and Cory Toomey (you can find a list of em here: https://ed.fandom.com/wiki/The_Creators). Instagram account dawn_of_the_eds has a lot of good references!

You can also study screenshots of the show, especially if you're trying to replicate the colors/linework/movement/etc… I would recommend @ededdneddy-artrefs, as they have a nice tagging system for finding anything specific, but its also a good idea to just look at your favorite EENE clips on YouTube and go thru them frame-by-frame! It helps with understanding how the characters move, talk, express, etc… and you can really nail down the stuff you'd only get a vague idea of from watching the show at a normal speed.

For me, it took me months (minus some breaks) to get to where i am now with drawing the Eds. Someone more studious and hardworking could easily do it faster, but the point is, it takes practice! Practice combined with active, intentional learning! My progress with drawing the Eds has several phases marked by a sudden jump in skill (usually caused by me finally going out and studying some more art, and internalizing what i learned), followed by healthy stagnation, where i get comfortable with the new knowledge and just do the same stuff for a while. If you really wanna get good at drawing them, you can study much more than i do, or have shorter stagnation periods! It's ok to calm down and get comfortable with the characters, have some nice, easy, art making time, its important to not get too stressed or burnt out! But when you're feeling motivated, absolutely take advantage of that!

Some things to remember:

While the characters do have consistent design elements and basic underlying shapes, these are NOT hard rules. REMEMBER AND INTERNALIZE SQUASH N STRETCH! I've tried assigning hard rules to how I draw the eds, and it's VERY difficult. It's definitely important to write down/point out as many design quirks and reoccurring themes/shapes as possible, but just remember that the Ed Edd n Eddy style is extremely fluid and dynamic - and the guidelines you may have thought were 100% true can be shattered at any point. Basically: all rules are optional! Don't draw something because the "rules" say so, draw something because it looks good! Sometimes one rule looks good, sometimes something else looks better! I'll use the teeth as a visual example:

(art in 1st image by Raven Molisee)

Sort of a continuation of the last point - Before EENE, I had a tendency (and still kinda do) to use more symbolic drawing process, the kind of design language you'd use for logos or graffiti, or the kind of style you see in shows like Dexter's lab or Total Drama Island or something - where you get good at drawing the same shapes/lines over and over. The EENE style, especially in later seasons, does not follow the same process as these sorts of styles. For example, I used to look at Edd and say "ok, His head is THESE TWO SHAPES!" And then there would be another, I'd say "okay, 3" and then another, and another and this will keep going on and on and on. Sometimes his ears are at the corners of whatever quadrilateral his head is (like in Molisse's art), sometimes theyre on an edge (like ive seen in Underwood's art), and sometimes you just can't see em! You have to accept that the characters are a lot of things at once, and different things at different times! Like Eddys head is usually a sort of bent pentagon - but is his mouth is enough he's more like a tin-can - but from a more top view he's almost a triangle - you can do this cycle forever.

you can think about it like this: the eds designs (especially their faces) are sort of a collection of features, and the shapes holding them together than be molded and distorted as you please!

Remember that the eds often exist with 3D underlying shapes, not just flat ones! I would highly recommend studying 3d shapes in extreme perspectives specifically. Draw bent cylinders, twisted stretched out cubes, any sort of shape at the most extreme fish-eye perspective you can manage, just absolutely take advantage of them. Bend and distort and break those shapes, dig your foot into their backs and and pull at their corners like you're ripping the arms out of their sockets. Extreme visualization, I know, but Ed Edd n Eddy is a slapstick comedy - there is immense force and stretching and distortion present, you really have to get that energy into your art to replicate the style (even if I'm not great at it yet, it's something I know I must learn).

Specific tidbit that's important & I sometimes forget: The characters limbs can be as long as the pose calls for! They will be fine! If they're holding something above their head, their arms are going to stretch out much longer than normal and it's ok! You can always sacrifice the "accuracy" to the model to get a strong pose/silhouette. Though one thing I've noticed is that their clothes often don't stretch the same way their bodies do! If you stretch double D's arms out 3 yards, his sleeves are gonna be about the same length as always! Except for when it looks better to break this rule, of course :3 basically imagine their bodies are like stretchy rubber, while their clothes are not

(note how his arms are stretched reeeal long in the gif, the look of the action holds higher priority than "correct" body proportions)

Apologies on my lack of notes on Ed specifically, I've drawn him good a total of One time and haven't been able to do it again lol.... Sometimes his head is an upside down triangle, but its bent in a way that i cant find a good pattern to remember it by... though sometimes his head is a square but the bottom stretches downward to become his neck. He's weird as hell, one day ill figure it out!

That's all my advice for now :3 If i think of any more i will add it!

[integra1127grimmreaper]

The Replacement - Part thirty-seven

Negan Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 36

Warning: violence, angst. 

You were cooped up with the kids inside and it was driving you insane, not knowing what had happened to the others and where your husband and daughter were. You needed to find a way outside to do some recon and make a plan from thereon. "Hey" you approach one of the guards assigned to watch of the kids and you.

Turning his attention toward you, "what?" the guard scowls down at you.

Taking a moment to composed yourself so as not to lash out at his abrupt behavior, you force a friendly facade, "I know that I can't do hard labor yet, but maybe there's something else? Maybe kitchen duty? Or... I used to oversee the supplies inventory, took care of the food preservation, amongst other things."

The guard silently studies you for a bit, finally sigh, "I'll find out there's anything available."

Whilst working on the railroad tracks, Negan and the rest of the group secretly observed the layout of the guards and their pattern to create a plan to overthrow them.

Taking a water break, Negan is approached by Magna, "two are in the perimeter and four inside."

"Ok" Negan utters, checking his surroundings before taking out a piece of linen to sketch it out.

"Negan, the map?" Ezekiel approaches him.

Turning around to acknowledge him, Negan is caught off-guard when seeing you arrive alongside a guard.

"New replacement to take over the lunch detail" the guard accompanying you informs one other.

"Negan... give me the map" Ezekiel pushes yet again but Negan is oblivious to anything at that moment but you.

"Hey..." Negan approached one of the nearby guards, "could I have moment to speak with my wife?"

The guard turns to look at Negan, then toward your direction he was pointing at. "What did say to me, prisoner...?" he remarks, walking up toward Negan.

"It's the first time I've seen her since we got here. Just want to make sure she's ok" Negan explains.

The guard looks at you, then back at Negan as he contemplates but before he could decide another guard steps into the conversation. "197... Do we have a problem here?

"No" the first guard response, "just a prisoner, mouthing off."

Negan silently stares at him in disbelief. "Maybe we should remind him of his place", the second remarks, striking Negan in the gut with his weapon. Regaining his bearings, Negan then charges at him but is knocked to the ground by the other guard.

Noticing the commotion, you witness the exact moment the first guard kicks your husband in the gut whilst he laid on the floor. "Get off him!" you yell out, charging forward to help Negan but the second guard intercepts and pushes you to the ground.

You get back up and punch the asshole in the face, attempting to get to your husband but guard grabs hold of you. "Negan!!!" you shout in desperation to get to him.

Negan remained silently on the ground at gunpoint as he watches you being dragged away, while unbeknownst that they were being watched from a distance by Daryl and Carol.

After the workday was over and everyone was back at Alexandria, Negan was brought before the Wardan.

"Sit, prisoner" he orders Negan upon entering the office.

"Alright! Jesus..." Negan grunts as the guard throw him into the chair.

"197..." the Wardan addresses the guard before he leaves.

"Sir?" he turns back toward the Wardan.

"Your transfer's been denied" the Wardan informs him.

"Sir..." the guard stares at him in disbelief, "my brother's been very sick. I- I don't know how long he has..."

"Then you should have told me directly, instead of going around me to ask for a transfer" the Wardan remarks. "Your duty here's been extended six months. Dismissed."

The guard stood speechless for a few moments as he stared at the Wardan in disbelief; left hand clenched in a tight fist at the Wardan's words, something that Negan easily notices with smugness.

After the guard leaves, the Wardan gets up from behind his desk; the linen map of Negan's in his hand as he rounds the desk and throws it at Negan. "That was found a few hours after you tussled with my guards."

"Ok..." Negan stares at it in pretend curiosity, "cool."

"What is it?" the Wardan enquires.

"I don't know..." Negan shrugs in pretend obliviousness, "Poorman's tic-tac-toe...?"

The Wardan takes a moment to compose himself, "someone is keeping track of my guards", he states matter-of-factly. "When they come and go. How many are on shift at any time."

"What's that got to do with me?" Negan comments.

"When you first came here, I thought maybe you were a leader. But now I see that you have other priorities... Real leaders, separates, they cleave themselves off from everyone else. Because the things that real leaders do, most people just don't have the stomach for it... but the ones who do, they're the real threats."

Negan remains silently staring at him as he continues, "there's a threat in my midst... and I believe it's one of your people."

"My people...?" Negan scoffs, "other than my wife... all those people hate my guts. So, I don't know anything..."

The Wardan leans down face to face with him, "but I bet, you can find out..."

"Huh" Negan deadpans, "bet I can't..."

"Not really an option..." the Wardan remarks, taking the map back. "Unless you'd rather not see that wife and baby of yours."

You were asleep in a small bedroom when someone touched your hand, jerking awake; you find Negan smiling down at you. "Hey..."

Stretching out a bit, you flash if a faint smile, "Hey, you..."

"Are you ok? You're not hurt?" Negan enquires.

"I'm fine" you respond, sitting up. "But you look like shit."

Negan lets out a soft chuckle at your words, his face turning serious then. "Is she here?"

Your eyes tear up at his words as you remove your hands from his grip. "I don't know where she is..." you whimper out, head dropping down in shame.

"Hey, hey... Look at me" Negan reaches out to lift your head up. "It's ok. We'll find her."

"She's not here, Negan!" you shake your head, crying.

Negan's taken aback by your words, "what do mean?"

Wiping the tears away, you look up at him. "There were no toddlers nor infants brought back. The only children here are Judith and the rest of the older kids."

"I-I'm sure someone must know where younger kids are...?" Negan stammers at the news that the whereabouts of his daughter was unknown.

"They do but won't say" you inform him. Reaching up to cup his face, you look him dead in the eyes, "we have to get out of here. We have to find her."

"I'm working on a plan" Negan reassures you, "we'll find her. I promise."

Your eyes narrow in suspicion at his words. "Don't you dare do something stupid."

Negan flashes you a tight smile, "promise."

Not completely believing him, you stare at him through narrowed gaze as you silently nod. With the suspicion smile still on his face, Negan returns your nod and then it suddenly hits you. "Oh my God!" you sob out in realization, "Negan... we never named her!"

Negan's face drops at your words, instantly reaching out to hold you. "It's ok, Sweetheart, shhh..." he attempts to console you while weeping in his arms, "we'll find our little girl. And once we do, we'll name her..."

Pulling back, you tearfully stare up at him, "you promise?"

Pulling you back against him, Negan presses a kiss into your hair, "with my life." 

Pt 38

tag list: @rockey258 @ultrasweetnephilim @twd-fanfics @starry-night-20 @dellsdeath  @vaaalexandra @thatgirljayy @aleemendoza2425-blog @conrzd​ @tonysterco​     @igotmajordaddyissues

[aalissy]

Soulmate Markers

Just a short fluffy lil soulmate AU for today's chapter :). I hope you like it! I love writing my fluffy Adrienette hehe. Plus, I always loveee writing soulmate AU's. Lemme know what you think <3

AO3

Adrien lay flat on his stomach in bed, a smile slowly stretching across his lips as he watched Marinette’s doodles come to life on his own arm. He delicately traced over the little flowers and stars that she had drawn, breathing out in awe. 

Every day he was grateful that he had found her. That very first day when he crashed into her and found that the little sketches she doodled on her arm matched the ones his soulmate had drawn on his own arm was everything.  

After finding each other, the two could barely stop writing little notes and messages to each other. Most of the time it was Adrien teasing Marinette that she was late. Again.

He shot a longing glance over at Plagg, wishing he could transform and head over to see her. But, alas, his kwami was passed out on the pillow next to him, snoring as dreams of cheese were surely filling his head.

Not wanting to disturb Plagg, Adrien quickly grabbed for a pen, scribbling on his unmarked arm.

You seem to be doodling instead of working on our physics homework there, Mari.

He bit his lip to stifle the large smile as the doodles suddenly ceased. There was a slight pause before his arm began to tingle as Marinette began to write back.

How do you know I haven’t already finished it yet and am taking a much-needed break?

Adrien snorted at the idea of Marinette having already finished all of her homework. Usually, she waited until the last minute for the classes she disliked the most.

Do you mean besides the fact that I also haven’t finished the whole assignment yet? 

He took a short pause, letting Marinette read the words that he had scrawled across the inside of his wrist before he struck an even bigger point.

Or, how about the fact that you haven’t stopped doodling since we left school? Did you have time to even start the physics homework yet?

Shush you! I’ve only just gotten home! I don’t need to worry about the homework yet.

Marinette's protestations were met with a playful chuckle from Adrien. He knew her procrastination tactics well. There was a brief enough break from her scribblings that Adrien felt a twinge of sadness in his chest. It hadn’t even been five minutes yet and already he missed talking to her. He couldn’t imagine what life would be like if they didn’t have this constant method of communication.

Soon, though, the tingle on his forearm appeared again and Adrien eagerly stared down at the words that were slowly appearing.

Have you gotten the answer to number 3 yet?

Hold on!

Springing up out of bed, he raced over to his desk. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out the piece of scratch paper that he was using to solve the equations. 

Together, they began working on the problems, their minds synchronizing as they tackled the physics problems. Adrien marveled at Marinette's ability to grasp concepts quickly, her work clear and concise even as they used their arms to describe the answers they were getting. Quickly, with both of them working together, the two finished their homework.

Great work, Mari! 

Can I go back to doodling now, teacher?

Only if you keep doodling on your arm so that I can see.

Adrien could only imagine the light pink tinge that would light up her cheeks and for about the millionth time he wished he was with her so he could see it. This time, no reply of words came from Marinette. Instead, just as he requested, a trail of doodles began to replace over the words that they had previously written to each other.

He sighed happily, rubbing his thumb over the tiny images that were blooming along his arm. His father was certainly going to yell at him about his soulmate's pictures again. Something about how it tainted his perfect skin, but Adrien didn’t care. Not with the way Marinette was currently sketching a tiny heart with the letters A + M scratched into it.

Adrien beamed before he gave a series of happy cackles. Every day he sincerely wondered how he had gotten so lucky. His soulmate was the best one of them all and no one could ever... would ever get in the way of that.

[k4ppasta]

Big fan elor elor elor how did u start ur art journey and any tips you'd wanna share

heheh hey callous, ive been drawing since elementary school and the best advice that i would say is learning how to study art styles. not just copying what you see or referencing, like really looking at their messy sketches, line art, coloring styles, trying to identify how they made certain effects with what they had (digital or otherwise)

I took AP art senior year of HS and we had an assignment where we had to pick a professional artist, study their art style, create a piece that was inspired by their work, then write a small paragraph on what specifically they do in their art (warm and cool colors, contrasting, brushes, etc.) and honestly it was one of the most helpful exercises ive done.

an example of how my style breakdowns go (SORRY @sunnydayaoe I REALLY LIKE YOUR ART SO I DID A MINI ANALYSIS IN MY OWN TIME</3)

i got a bunch of their work, focused on what exactly made it so unique (i.e saturated colors, colored lineart where the light hits, texture, etc.) then tested how i would get an effect like they do (with the limited brush choices they have on flipaclip lmao)

but yeah! thats texting, experimenting, and analysis with kappa.

i did something similar in middle and elementary school where i would check out comic books that had styles i liked and copy it. how they drew eyes, clothes, poses, expressions, etc. (examples being babysitters club and legends of zita lmao) The class I took simply showed a more through? way to do this?

also just getting comfortable with restarting, redrawing, and making bad and experimental art. stuff's allowed to look ugly sometimes. you're learning. art is supposed to be fun, its okay to take a break from a piece for a bit.

[sonayesul]

Junior Thesis

some stuff I worked on for my junior thesis project earlier this year. Ill share the full finished comic later on but for now enjoy these character designs and such 🫶

the watercolor version of the cover looked too much like bradley james when that was like, not the point of the assignment, which is why the finished digital version looks so much different. I still prefer the original watercolor version but i tend to always favour my watercolor versions of things

In depth explanation below cut

the junior thesis assignment was the adapt a book into a six page comic and we could have creative freedom with certain things and the book only ever mentioned the color of guenever's hair and eyes, NOT her skin color or features and so I had my fun with her design. the ONLY description they give lancelot in the entire book is that hes ugly and beauty is subjective so i gave him "non traditional" features. In one of my original sketches for him, he was going to have crooked teeth, but unfortunately i do not draw teeth well LMAO. I wanted Arthur and Lancelot's designs to contrast each other as well. Arthur is shorter and stockier where Lance is taller and thinner, Arthur keeps his feelings quiet while Lance wears them on his chest, and then i wanted there to be the stark color difference too between them.

Morgause and Mordred were fun, but they both had a lot more descriptive descriptions in the book, so I didn't get as much creative control outside of their outfits. I assigned the Lot family the color blue and the Camelot cotizens red to try and contrast better throughout the story and it was kinda fun cause it made mordred look like an ice prince or something.

also despite gwen lance and arthur being around the same age at the point of my comic, i wanted to try and make arthur look the oldest, sort of visually show how much being king and his decisions has weighed on him, especially since the scene I adapted was pretty heavy.

also i did have a reference page for gwen but at some point it got deleted? so in this its just a fun drawing I did of her holding excalibur instead. I do also have a full reference drawing for exacalibur in my files that was useless because i never ended up drawing it in the comic LMAO

the last photo is the cornwall sisters, Elaine, Morgan and Morgause. With their designs i had fun trying to make them look related to each other, to Arthur and their parents but also try to not make them all have the same face. Elaine looks like her mother, Morgan looks like her father, Morgause looks like a mix of both (Uthers hair color but Ygraine's hair style, Uther's face but Ygraine's eye color) and Arthur looks like a perfect blend of both too. I sort of did the same with Mordred where I took features from both morgause and arthur to make him look related but like his own person. Ygraine and Uther are only in one panel so there's no proper ref for either of them.

This project was a five month process, six if you count writing the script to fit within a six page comic without losing any details from the book and creating my pitch for my professor (all of which was done over winter break)

The project took FOREVER and I definitely am not happy with the final result but its due to the fact i had frequent doctor visits and hospitalisations and wasnt able to work on it as much as I had wanted, PLUS i had an eight page comic for another class i worked on also over the same five months (and i was more focused on that one as it was my own original characters)4

regardless though, i do still like it, just wish it cane out better in the end lmao

will prolly post the full comic in a day or two :3

[deryuj]

Follow the curves

You wish you could focus on your case but truth be told, Connor is far too distracting.

(Or Connor is helping you with your case while you sketch him in your notebook instead)

Rating: General audience

Ship: Connor x gn!reader

I started my summer job and realized I have a lot of free time so I actually wrote a fanfic because I was bored. Enjoy!

p.s. Last time i wrote a fanfic was in 2017 and english isn't my first language, lol.

It's been three hours since you stepped your foot into the squeaky clean department. Also, it's been two hours and fifty-five minutes (minus ten minutes you spent making yourself a coffee and five minutes you took for a bathroom break, which was an excuse to just get up from your workspace and do something different) since you made yourself comfortable by your desk and started working again with the weird writings and drawings you found last night at the apartment, left by what you suspected was a deviant. Looking at the same set of lines for hours turned them into uncomprehensive scribbles and doodles at this point so you couldn't make anything out of them anyway. You needed to do something else rather than stare absent-mindedly at the same page for the next five hours until your shift is done.

You wish you could say you were going in circles with this investigation but honestly, there was no circle you could even walk in in the first place.

How frustrating.

With a soft sigh, you turned your gaze to your right where Connor sat way before you even arrived, his blue LED shining and flickering as his brown eyes stayed glued to the screen. It was funny that for an android he insisted to use computers to scroll through information like the rest of the DPD did. He didn't have to, it was probably more time-consuming and less efficient to do so, but somehow it was so endearing that he makes sure to act as human as possible and blend with the rest of his coworkers.

You haven't really spoken to him today though, he was assigned to you strictly because of the notes you discovered, it was the longest you have been in his presence, which is a bummer. Usually, you would see him casually follow Hank like a puppy, hand folded behind him, long legs easily matching his anger, quick steps, and a soft smile that was always plastered on his face. You weren't sure if he was designed to always smile or chose to do so, but you decided to believe that he wants it that way. Now though you could see that soft smile and adorable chocolate cowlick up close with him working mere centimeters away from you and you couldn't help but smile yourself.

Cyberlife sure did a great job designing him.

Connor was the newest addition to the team, assigned to help the lieutenant in his cases, which definitely did not make him happy since he oh so loved his broody and lone wolf reputation. You were pleased though, you never had a chance to work with an android (and you kinda never exactly did until now). You liked Connor, maybe more than you'd like to admit, and you found yourself doubting the whole 'friendship' if you could even call it that. Yes, he was an android and he definitely wasn't programmed to like everyone (based on his previous interactions with Gavin) but somehow you found yourself hoping that after all the small conversations you shared he, at least, considered you a friend because he liked you, not because his program told him so. Were you even making sense at this point?

You let out a soft sigh, reaching out to grab a half-empty cup of stale coffee before your eyes glided back to working Connor. He hasn't moved from his stiff position since morning, his warm eyes fixated on the computer screen, subtle nose twitches, jaw tightened, smooth hand gripping the notes you wrote down yesterday as he silently analyzed the same set of information written in your handwriting over and over again before looking up at the computer screen, trying to find some kind of clue on what exactly the deviant was trying to write down or show.

As if it was that easy to understand the maniacal scribbles they left behind before running away.

He looked so focused, so eager to prove himself and his skills to everyone that he completely shut himself off from the whole department and new information from his surroundings for now so nothing will take him out of the process of decoding the messages. You were almost curious if by any chance he knows you're watching him so shamelessly or if he even realized that you joined him by your desk to help almost three hours ago.

He was cute, really cute, and in some way you felt a little weird with choosing this word to describe a grown man, or more specifically someone designed to hunt down deviants and do it without any hesitation.

You'd rather keep your observations to yourself rather than get embarrassed though that's what you told yourself with your inner voice.

You comfortably leaned against your palm, letting your gaze dance across all the soft and sharp edges of his profile. His small, pretty nose, freckled artificial skin, pursed, plush lips, and extremely long lashes. Someone put all these details down into this single design just to make fun of you and your silly little crush on an android, that you were almost sure has no algorithm that could by any chance make him like you back. It was stupid, really, but God was he too pretty to not like.

Never mind your earlier praises, you hated Cyberlife for this design.

You felt your cheeks heat up just from thinking about this, definitely not your smartest thought of the day.

You tilted your head to the side, your hair moving with your move as you glanced at him from a slightly different angle. Still pretty. Dang.

One line, second line, join these two with another line.

Without thinking much your hand danced across your handy notebook, your pen leaving gentle lines and curves as you tried to memorize his pretty features. You weren't an amazing artist but you could at least make it resemble him. That's all you needed to do. You needed to convey his pretty profile somewhere where it won't disappear, somewhere you'll be able to look at whenever you'd feel like it, and not when Hank would get up from his desk to go to your communal kitchen with his partner in hand.

You poked the thin paper with the tip of your pen, spreading small, inked dots across his sketched cheek, dragged curled lines from his eye down to his cheek to mimic his long curtain of eyelashes, and made sure that the curve of his lips was the curviest, kissable line you ever drew on paper.

Your silly attempts caused you to let out a quiet snort. I mean the sketch wasn't bad… it's just that you finally caught up with what you were doing that caused you to realize that you were acting like a lovestruck teen if not worse than that.

Stupid- said your more sober side.

You still proudly looked down at the small sketch of Connor that popped up in the corner of your notebook, it was no longer accurate though since the model decided to finally rise his honey-filled eyes away from the screen and face you instead, clearly curious about what made you laugh during a long, boring investigation.

"What's wrong detective?" Your eyes snapped back up at his seeking expression, right in the middle of him tilting his head to the side as he would usually do whenever asking a question and being actually curious about it.

Now what?

"Ah" passed your lips before you could catch yourself. What exactly are you going to tell him and make it sound not weird?

"You draw a lot?" He took your silence as an answer and leaned in to trail his eyes along all the sketched lines, his lips curling into a soft smile to your dismay, a soft whir erupting from his chest.

You silently flipped your notebook to the next page, lips pursed as you turned your face away from him to hopefully regain your ability to say something smart rather than babble while looking at his handsome face. And yet he still watched you, or more like observed you, analyzing your mouth twitch, gaze shift, and muscle tense. Clearly, he was getting what we would call 'nervous' at his seemingly failed attempt at making a small talk and you couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

"Sometimes, helps me think or get myself to reboot" He could somehow understand the concept, maybe because you used a techy word he had some experience with.

He hummed in response, shifting comfortably in his seat, almost like he could feel his muscles sore from staying in one position, and looked down at the blank page, as if the drawing was still there and he was still taking in every single stroke of your pen.

"You are quite talented" He seemed honest, maybe there was a hint of something else, and you couldn't help but chuckle. There was something so innocent behind his words, he almost sounded excited to face a new quirk humans had.

He always liked those. The quirks. Things that made people unique and so interesting.

"I guess once I retire I'll move out somewhere quiet and spend the rest of my life painting landscapes" You mumbled sarcastically, your eyes rolling as you tried to get Connor off his path to compliment you more. He would always be painfully nice to get people to like him and accept him in the department. It worked, sure but you don't need him to get you flustered at work where people can see. Especially where that asshole Gavin can see and use it to make you annoyed.

He let out another soft, vibrating hum at your small joke, leaning down to comfortably lean against his smooth hand. He was thinking, processing and rinsing your words to find a suitable answer to your lighthearted response and hopefully match your tone.

"That sounds nice, I'm glad that for now, I can enjoy your work here at the department." He replied and you let your lips form a smile at his response. I mean you could interpret it as if he wanted to work with you more. You wouldn't complain, your work quality would suffer though. Or maybe you're looking too hard into it.

"Have you tried drawing Hank before?" You let out a sharp exhale from your mouth, your laugh stuck somewhere in your throat, safe from being let out to the world. You weren't sure if it was a joke or not, if it was it was funny, if it wasn't then it was cute but still, you don't want him to feel bad for laughing at him.

Connor didn't mind, in return, his plushy lips quirked up into a bigger smile, doe eyes narrowing as the smile finally reached them while he happily watched you light up after working with papers.

"Don't know, I guess I'll ask him if he wants to model, sounds like a cute date" You wanted to continue the banter, it was somehow of an anomaly to see Connor try to joke like this, hopefully, you weren't expecting too much of him. On the other hand, hopefully, Hank didn't hear that because even though you two are friends he'll scold you for joking around at his expense and giving 'the android weird ideas'.

In return he let out a quick, soft chuckle before clearing his throat to get back to his professional self, his pale cheeks dusted with a soft, blueish color. Seems like he doesn't want to make you feel bad for laughing at you as well.

"Sounds like a lovely evening" He admitted before falling silent once again, his brown, gooey eyes now staring deep into yours, analyzing you. In moments like this, you were always envious of how he can pretty much see through you and see what you think while you're left with his pretty face and zero ideas on what might be going on through his head.

"Let's… check the notes again and work through it together" You finally suggested, trying to put the awkward conversation (on your part) behind the door and focus back again on your actual job. You let Connor shift closer to you, his shoulder bumping against yours as you flipped pages back onto the one with your infamous little drawing.

Seeing the real deal up this close made you realize how much longer his lashes actually are, how his lips are far more softer than what you left on the paper and how many freckles you haven't even put down on your drawing.

You should probably try again, maybe at home.

Maybe with him in your apartment.

[criminal-mids]

#23 - The Magician

Prompt: Under a Spell

Sickie: Prentiss

Caretaker: Reid

Word Count: 2,373

(A/N: Disclaimer: I have no knowledge of planes, farming, or magic.)

The previous day’s incursion had been successful, but not everyone had come out unscathed. Emily's wrist and fingers ache, numb from the painkillers, but somehow stinging all the same. The unsub, Roger Morrow’s, chosen weapons were chains. The monster of a man grew up in a travelling circus, one of those outdated freak shows, and he worked the long metal links like extensions of his body, and he’d pulled them tight around her. If she hadn't thrown her arms out, the metal would’ve found a place around her neck. Thankfully she was only the diversion, the soft entry. Hotch, Morgan and the local policemen had quickly subdued Morrow. He may have been huge, but with so many, she and the victims were safe again.

Now all that’s left is the huge bruise, beginning to bloom purple across her forearm. She tugs her sleeve down groaning, but it won’t go completely over the thick brace. Not a break, just a sprain. A miracle, the paramedic had told her. She had to agree as she watched forensics lift the heavy accoutrements of torture into what had to be the biggest evidence bad she’d ever seen in her few years at the B.A.U. But sprains take longer to heal than breaks.

She sighs. With her shooting hand out of commission, she was assigned to stay at the station and work the geographical profile with Reid. It isn’t that she dislikes him, the opposite actually. His sense of humour may be what some consider odd, but after doing this job long enough one’s humour gets warped enough to where some of his jokes are actually rather funny. 

But he’s a genius. Geographical profiles are his thing. And sitting here, watching him flip between case files, sketching red and blue lines on the provided map, muttering so quickly to himself that Emily can barely catch a word, she feels useless. 

What is she doing here? She isn’t helping? Couldn’t she at least be doing something out in the field? Staking out the crime scene in case the unsub returns?

But, she laments, that wouldn’t be much help either. With her hand, she could hardly arrest him. Hotch would never let her out into the field alone with an impairment like this, temporary as it may be.

“ -to Emily”

“Huh?” She looks up, startled.

“I said: Earth to Emily.” Reid waves a sweater-pawed hand gently in front of her face, but she’s still too distracted to smile.

“Oh, uh, yes.”

“You spaced out. And you keep looking at your arm. Is it hurting? You mentioned you took medication right before we left and it’s been almost nine hours. I can grab your medication from your bag if you need it.” Spencer starts to reach across the desk to where Emily’s small cross body sits, but she puts her uninjured hand out to stop him.

“Ah, sorry. I’m fine. Let’s just finish this.”

She shakes her head as she says “Let’s.” 

‘Why’d I say that? It isn’t like I’m doing much or anything.’

Spencer cocks his head, eyes like a curious animal. He looks a little hurt. “Emily, what’s- did I do something to you that I’m unaware of? I can be quiet if you want. But according to several scientific studies and my personal observations, talking things over helps people to arrive at conclusions faster.”

“What?” Now Emily is confused. “Of course, you can talk. I don’t mind at all. Why would I?”

“Oh. You were staring at me, kind of glaring actually.” He looks back down at the map in front of him, embarrassed at the thought that he’s made something out of nothing. He knows he should be used to the glares by now. He knows he’s different. Negative reactions are only natural.

But Emily understands now. “No, I wasn’t mad, not at you anyway. I-” She hesitates. 

‘Should I really be talking about this? We have a case to solve. It’s no big deal . . . but I don’t want Spencer to think I’m mad at him.’ Is how she justifies it, even though she doesn’t need to justify it at all.

“I- I just feel . . . useless. I’m not doing anything. And I heard you tell Morgan that you focus better alone, anyway.”

Spencer doesn’t say anything, but his expression speaks volumes. His brows pull together in confusion, head tilted again as if even with B.A.s in Psychology and Sociology, he can’t comprehend how she could feel that way. The looks make Emily feel warm, and forgiven for a non-existent wrong.

“I mean, I know I’m not useless, but that's my point. I feel like I’m being wasted, by not being in the field. I know why Hotch did it, of course, but I can't help feeling like I should be doing more. I know I could be. I owe it to the Taylors who are probably sitting at home right now, feeling just like me, only they can’t do anything and I can. I signed up for this and it’s frustrating to not be able to do it.”

Reid’s face shifts into understanding. He nods thoughtfully, and says, after a moment, “You’re not useless. I only told Morgan that so he’d stop pacing. It’s like he can never stop moving, not completely anyway, like a giant atom, kind of funny. And most of the time, I function better with some background stimuli, uh, but what I mean is you are doing something. In fact I was just about to ask you what you thought about the unsub being an agricultural pilot.”

“Like a crop duster?”

“Yeah. All the dump sites are fields, which does make sense since there’s nothing much else around, but the sites are so far apart almost any other vehicle would be impractical, so far apart, and with so little vehicle traffic he’s bound to be noticed. Forensics found no tyre tracks at any of the scenes. Think about it, a crop duster could land and take off without too much suspicion.”

“But aren’t most one-seaters?” Emily asks, having to grit her teeth by the end of the sentence. 

‘I think Spencer was right about the medication wearing off.’

“Yes, but not all of them. But I don’t think our unsub is using the seats anyway. He wouldn’t have to. Though the term “crop duster” would suggest, well, dust, many fertilisers today are liquids. Planes designed for aerial fertiliser application have hoppers with a capacity of up to 800 gallons to 4,000 pounds. That’s more than enough for a body, several in fact if the hopper is empty. He simply loads his victims into it, flies to the dump site, lands dumps the body and takes off again.”

“Reid, you are a genius. I’ll have Garcia check registrations and licences in the area, and hangers too.” In her excitement, she forgets her pain, until she fumbles for her phone.

“I’ll do it.” Reid offers, pulling out his own mobile.

“Yeah.” Emily tries to remember his earlier encouragement, but it doesn’t help much. So she just watches Reid instead.

“ . . . If he’s been transporting bodies, he won’t have been able to carry a full load of fertiliser, so look for agricultural pilots who’ve been missing quotas. There will most likely be a history of complaints for other things as well. . . . Yeah, thanks, Garcia.”

—

The team is assembled, giving the refined profile and setting up the bust . . . while Emily sits in the corner.

She watches them gear up to leave when suddenly Reid pulls Hotch aside.

“Hey, um, Hotch. You have more than enough men, and I don’t think I’d be of too much help for this, could I stay behind and get a head start on paperwork? I’ll be right by the phone if you need me, of course, but, you know. Trying to fix my sleep schedule a little. Mom always nags me about the coffee.” His laugh is a little forced.

Hotch glances over at Emily, pressing her eyes closed in discomfort. He’s a prosecutor turned profiler, Reid’s lies are transparent, but it's true. They don’t exactly need him.

“Alright. Set a good example for Morgan, will you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Reid watches rhythm go then gets to work.

It wasn’t entirely a lie. He does want a jump start on paperwork, but first: Emily.

“Does anyone have a deck of cards?”

—

It’s easy to procure what he needs, a standard deck, a sharpie and sticky notes. It’s not much, but he can work a few simple tricks. Last he grabs crips from the vending machine, a paper cut of water, and the bottle of pills from Emily’s bag.

Making his voice as soft as possible he rouses her, “Hey, Emily.”

She isn’t asleep (how could she be with her arm stinging?), but she’s pretty dazed, so she wakes with surprise.

“Oh, Spencer. Hey.”

“I brought you your pills.” He gestures to the extra chair he dragged over.

She sits up at the thought of relief and smiles when she sees what sits on the chair. Her stomach grumbles.

“Here, so you don’t have to take them on an empty stomach.” He hands her the packet of jalapeño crisps.

“Mmm, my favourite. You’re an angel, Spencer.”

He blushes, “Hardly. I’m just observant.”

Emily gives an exhausted eyebrow wiggle. “I’ve noticed.”

They laugh. It’s way too funny for some reason. Maybe it’s the shoddy flickering fluorescent lights of this tiny police station in the middle of East Bumble-fuck that must have been passed over for every budget increase in the last decade. Or maybe it’s the night air coming in through the cracked windows. (The aircon broke months ago, they were told). Or maybe they’re both just loopy from lack of sleep.

When they stop laughing, Emily starts in on her snack or tries to. 

“Argh, stupid wrist.”

“Ah, sorry, Allow me, ma’am,” Spencer says with a sort of half bow because he’s sitting, all dramatically debonair. 

Emily lets him, mostly because she’s tired and hungry and in pain, but also because his charm isn’t false at all. He might not always be put together, but there’s something adorably nerdy about him impossible to ignore.

“Why thank you, sir.”

“Of course.” He bows again, handing it back.

They fall once again into laughter, better this time because Emily is starving and her mouth waters at the smell of the crisps.

-

Emily eats quickly. Securing the packet between her lap and her brace and stuffing crisps in her mouth faster than she would have thought possible with her non-dominant hand.

She swallows the pill easily. Now all she has to do is wait for it to kick in. She lays her head back against the cool wall, closing her eyes. 

‘Ugh, now I’m just in pain and can’t see.’ Sighing, she reopens them. When she does, Spencer is closer than before.

“Wanna see a magic trick?” He offers.

She nods.

“But first, I need this.” 

With a flourish, he unties Emily’s silk scarf from her neck.

Her skin tingles with the sudden absence, feeling the breeze from the open window (or maybe the feeling is just from where his hand had brushed her collar).

The vanishing trick is simple, but no less magical. She giggles. 

‘Oh, that must be the pills kicking in. I haven’t had coffee in a while, they must be making me drowsy.’

For his next trick, he shuffles the deck and fans ten cards face down. “Pick a card, any card!”

She obliges, choosing the one right in the middle. Wondering if she’s playing right into the trick but not caring all that much.

Even though she knew what was coming, she’s no less surprised when the exact card she picked and hadn’t shown him appeared in Spencer’s hand.

—

Several tricks later, Emily is about ready to pass out. 

Spencer glances at the clock. He hadn’t meant to lie to Hotch. He did intend on starting his paperwork, but more time had passed than he realised.

He smiles at Emily’s near-sleeping form. He hates to wake her but . . .

“Hey, Em, I’ve got to at least do a little paperwork and you shouldn’t sleep here, you’ll hurt your neck.”

Emily mumbles something that sounds like “Let me be useless in peace.”

“No, come one. I can’t carry you.”

“Fine.”

Without opening her eyes, she stands, trusting Spencer to guide her. They walk to the bench in the miserable precinct’s waiting area. She’s out nearly as soon as she lays down, barely feeling Spencer place his cardigan under her head.

“‘Night, Emily.”

But he waits until he’s sure she’s comfortable before putting away the cards and sitting down at the small table with his files.

—

Reid is just finishing the write-up of his geographical profile.

“Oh, you’re back. How did it go?” He asks Morgan. 

“We got him without too much resistance.”

“Good.”

“Where’s Emily?”

“Sleeping.” 

Morgan nods, staring in Emily’s direction, but Reid stops him, “Don’t wake her, please.”

Morgan raises an eyebrow but decides not to question it. “We leave as soon as we’re packed.” He informs Reid.

“Yeah.”

-

“Reid, get over here.”

Reid hurries over to Morgan.

“What do you need?”

“Can you wake the bear?” Morgan asks, tone mostly teasing but also slightly wary.

Reid frowns. “She’s not going to attack you, you know. She’s in no condition.”

Morgan shrugs, already walking off. “I gotta help Rossi.”

Reid shakes his head. He walks off as well. But only to gather Emily’s bag.

He kneels to Emily’s level, tucking a stray strand of hair back into place. The motion sends Emily’s eyes fluttering open. She shifts quickly but clumsily up, trying to grab his hand.

 “Hey, easy. It’s just me.” He reassures her, placing her scarf back around her neck.

She rubs it between her fingers, blinking as she calms down, “Oh, Spencer.”

“We’re about to leave. Hotch and JJ are finishing things here and Morgan and Rossi are picking up our stuff. I got your bag.”

“Thanks. I am so ready to be home.”

“Me too.”

“Hey, you two, come on,” Morgan calls.

“Coming,” Spencer shouts back, then turns to Emily, helping her up and hooking an arm around her waist. “Come on, let’s go home.”

(A/N: This turned out way less platonic than I intended, but hey, why not? Also, what is Emily and Spencer’s ship name? I’ve searched but can’t find it. So far I’ve thought of Remily, or Prencer. Lol Also, for anyone wondering, the switches from surname to given name were intentional.)

---

Based on some of the meanings of the Magician tarot card

Manifesting: The ability to make dreams come true 

Healing: The ability to fix or improve something that's broken or not going well 

Tapping into potential: Using one's talents, capabilities, and resources to succeed, especially when there's a need to transform something 

[rimmi1357]

Typed out a tiiny situational thing as a continuation to my fic "It was fine" in my discord. And because I have an access to my drawing tablet today, quickly sketched out a thingie to it. No perspective or any decency in poses or like that, just quick 10-15 minute thing.

That typing:

The Gildegaran's gathering hall is bustling with hunters, helpful felynes and researchers. Pleasant aroma of hot stews and cold brews filling the air. In that pleasant hall we can meet Gordon having a simple dinner and having a pleasant and peaceful time. Especially after he was tasked with expedition into strange return of the black blight and he was assigned a hunting partner - Benny. Benny was fine but he did liked to play on Gordon's nerves, poking and playfully teasing him, trying to get an emotional reaction from him. Sometimes more than just a simple reaction. But that's beside the point. Gordon frequents this place lately. He is having a trouble keeping his mind from floating away into imagination land after last few days. The noise and smells of this place helping with keeping his thoughts straight, at least for a while. And not going to lie, he is very found of not needing to cook dinner. Even in this pleasant place he still was a little self conscious. The very fine morning with Benny left him with a massive mark on a neck that hurt a bunch. It was so big that he felt the need to cover it up. So today he wore a warm and comfy sweater with a longer neck. But even in this calm place he couldn't take a break from the Benny. He could see him in the other side of a hub every day. Sitting there and being himself each time surrounded by different people. One good thing is that Gordon manages to sneak past in the corner that Benny didn't seem to notice in past few days. But everything comes to an end. After some time the chair opposite of Gordon creaked tugging him out of his thoughts about how good the stew today was. "Heeeeello Big boy," Said a way to familiar voice. " Thought that i will not see you here?" "Hello, Benny," Gordon looked up from his plate, " Let's cut to the chaise, what do you want?" "Why are you so salty today? But if you insist. I want You, tonight, at my place." Gordon choked on his food from the boldness. But what he wanter from the Boldest person that he knows. "So, do I wait for you tonight?" "What prompted you to think i WILL agree to that?" "I thought you liked your morning with me and wouldn't mind to continue what we started." "We didn't had anything, I don't know what you are talking about." Irritatingly said Gordon. "Is that a sweater i see on you? Do you hiding something on that sweet neck of yours. Can't lie, i looved it's taste." Benny subtly licked his lips. "I thought you've liked it too." "M-m-maybe i didn't liked it. Have you thought about that?" Gordon began turning Benny's favourite shade of red. "You moaning my name loudly and messing up my sheets would tell a different story." Said Benny keeping the full eye contact with Gordon. Gordon didn't had anything to counter that. Benny was right. Gordon just didn't want admit to anything, especially to that smug face of his. He had only one last answer to him. He suddenly stood up and smashed his hands against the table. "How Dare you speak to your higher up like that!" Loudly proclaimed Gordon with a serious tone. Benny jerked back from sudden tone shift, but it didn't took him long to relax back and put on his smug smile. "Ooh, you wanna play like that, boss?" "What did you just said to me, twerp?!" Benny's eyes went wide "I love when you talk to me like that," he said little bit quieter than usual with some lustful tone. "We can go to your place so you could punish me for my behaviour…Boss. or you'd preffer me to call you mr.Mayhaps? " It didn't work, it's only made things worse. Gordon feel like Benny was ready to jump on him right here. He himself can't deny that he very much liked how Benny called him. The whole situation just make him more embarrassed that he already was. He didn't know what to say and just swiftly left the place without saying any additional words.

[mom-dont-like-it]

A Friend. Happy Valentine's Day!

"Boring," Mina sighed sadly. She stretched her legs. The girls were sitting in Yaoyorozu's room. They had come to finish their group work. "And hot."

It had been one of those very hot days. The students were studying hard because there wasn't much time before the exams. Jiro, Yayorozu, Mina and Midoriya decided to get together to finish their assignment. But they didn't think that in this hot weather, the last thing they wanted to think about was studying.

"If you have nothing better to do, we can continue our work," Izuku said. She did not take a break from her notebook. She had received a message about three minutes ago. She was writing something.

"Boring!" Mina had a look at her friend. "Hey Midoriya, what kind of writing is that? I thought you'd decided to rest."

"We didn't, you did." Jirou corrected and came into the room. "I've got something to drink."

"Finally!" Mina breathed out as she took a bottle of cold soda. "Ah, it feels good."

"This fan is useless," Midoriya grumbled. She wiped her hands so as not to spoil her notebook.

A strong gust of wind picked up the light curtains. It sent them flying across the room. Jirou jumped up to them and held them in place so that they would no longer be in the way. Yaoyorozu came out of the bathroom at the same time. She was holding some colourful fans.

"I thought it might help us," Momo smiled. The girls squealed with delight. They grabbed the fans that were meant for them. 

"How sweet you are, Yaomomo!" cried Ashido, throwing herself into her friend's arms. "How sweet..., so cute. You don't mind if I keep it. Do you?"

"Of course you do." Momo replied with a smile. "I have made it especially for you."

"Thank you, Yaoyorozu-san." Midoriya thanked her and took the fan from her hands. "These are beautiful. "

"Oh, come on." Yaoyorozu mumbled shyly. "Thanks a lot."

"Still, what are you writing there?" asked Mina, taking a sip. She bent over and had a look at the notebook. "It's that notebook you always carry with you. Isn't it?"

Midoriya smiled warmly. She flicked through the slightly rough pages, which were completely scribbled in her own handwriting. Small sketches of heroic costumes and even the occasional quirk could be traced here and there. The notebook was only half filled, though it had been kept for several years. 

Midoriya looked at the outstretched hand in curiosity. She handed the notebook to Mina. The girl leafed through the pages. Only at the end did she find something interesting.

"Oh, what's that?" Mina asked, pointing to the small inscription at the very end of the book. The handwriting was familiar to her. She smiled mischievously and waited for an answer. "Letter to love?"

"What do you mean?" Midoriya asked as she picked up the notebook. To her surprise, she actually noticed a short sentence that had been written in a hurry. "That's the first time I've seen it. "

"What is it?" Yayorozu asked, sitting closer. Jiro followed behind her as well. "Sorry?"

"Do you have any idea who might have been the writer? "Mina asked with the same slyness in her voice. She couldn't hold back a smile. 

"But it can't be him." Midoriya muttered. "It can't be him, right?"

Memories whirled through Izuku's mind. Cruel words spoken in the heat of the moment, burned pages and looks of guilt. Were they spoken back then? Especially those which were so desirable.

***

Back in high school, it happened on the 14th of February. Mitsuki decided to invite Midoriya's family for dinner.

"While she was cooking in the kitchen, Bakugou called out, "Hey, Katsuki! "Get over here right away!"

There was a knock on the door from the first floor. Loud footsteps could be heard. 

"Stop stomping! It's getting on my nerves!"

"What do you want?" Bakugou asked reluctantly. 

"Inko is going to be here soon. Did you get the chocolate ready for Izuku?"

"Why?" muttered Katsuki and picked up a knife. He stood next to her and helped his mother cut the food.

"What do you mean, why?" shouted Mitsuki, waving her arms in the air. She had a moment's thought and then another: "Okay, you won't have time to cook. They'll be here any minute. Then go and run to the nearest shop and get yourself some chocolate as a present for them."

Since Bakugou resisted and Mitsuki was adamant, he went out the door to the nearest shop that might have what he needed. After passing a few counters, Katsuki heard a familiar voice.

"Have you decided, dear?"

"Not yet, Mum. Please wait a little more."

Bakugou came closer. He stopped a few centimetres away from the girl. Choosing between several boxes, Midoriya crouched down. Bakugou looked around the shelves. When he had chosen a suitable one, he tapped Midoriya's head lightly with the box.

"That's better," he said. He chuckled inwardly when Midoriya jumped in surprise. 

"Kacchan?" Midoriya called out as she got to her feet. "You are here! Oh, I had a mind to... Never mind.

"Do you need anything? Just let me know before I change my mind. "

"Midoriya mumbled, "Ah, you don't have to. 

Bakugou mumbled something reluctantly. He picked up one of the boxes Izuku was looking at.

"Oh, Katsuki?", Inko exclaimed at the sight of her friend's son in the shop. - I didn't think: We'll see you here. Well, then we'll have a walk together.

Surprisingly, this day had begun quietly, despite the fact that the relationship between Midoriya and Bakugou had remained strained lately. However, this remained the case until a certain point.

"Speaking of studying: Izuku, have you decided where you're going next?"

There was a moment of silence at the table. Midoriya looked away. Inko looked nervously at her daughter. She wanted to change the subject, but Izuku spoke first.

"Me," Midoriya started, but Katsuki's gaze was a source of hesitation. "I don't have my mind made up yet."

"I know it's complicated enough, but don't prolong it. Otherwise, it might be too late later."

After they had finished eating, Mitsuki suggested that Izuku go upstairs to Bakugou and talk while they stayed in the Dining Room.

"I told you to forget it," Katsuki said. She looked him in the eyes. "It's just stupid."

Midoriya clutched the notebook to her chest and muttered under her breath: "This is my dream, stupid or not. I have to have a go at it anyway."

Bakugou exhaled angrily, barely holding himself back, but when he saw Midoriya's brave look, he couldn't stand it any longer. The katsuki grabbed the notebook and blew it up. 

"This is not your future," Bakugou roared. He went over to the window and held out a hand with the notebook.

"Wait!"

"Do you want to die?" shouted Katsuki and with a single movement, she threw the notebook out of the window.

"No!" Izuku cried pitifully. She ran up and looked outside. "Why?"

She scrambled out of the room, telling her mother in her last words that she'd be the first to come home, and rushed outside. It was not long before she was in search of the notebook. It was lying on the floor right under the window of the room. Looking up, Midoriya stumbled upon the curtained window. The light was out. 

A month passed in silence. Nearly all the records were hopelessly corrupted, but Midoriya's memory was good enough to start restoring them. Time passed without her noticing. The beginning of spring had not been felt by Izuku at all.

The 14th of March fell on a day off. So Midoriya sat in her room and finished her homework. She hadn't planned to go out, so she wasn't expecting anyone. A knock at the door seemed odd. Inko was in the shop and wouldn't be back for an hour or so. Izuku went to the door to see who might have come to see them.

As he approached the door, Midoriya opened it slightly. But when she noticed the familiar clothes, she opened it in surprise. 

"Kacchan? What are you doing in here?"

Instead of answering, the boy held out a small package. Without waiting for an answer, he headed for the stairs leading downstairs. Midoriya followed him until he was completely out of sight. Then she closed the door. Izuku hadn't expected a gift in return, even though it was a white day. Only then did the girl dare to open the package after she had gone to her room. The small rectangular object was wrapped in bright paper. In spite of the simple wrapping, it was obvious that it was a very elaborate package. Izuku unfolded the pleasantly crispy wrapping and pulled out a bulky notebook. It looked similar to the one Katsuki had ruined a month ago. Would you call that apologising?

Midoriya knew that it was really an apology only now, after all this time. For some reason, Katsuki had chosen to write the short word "sorry" at the very end, so Midoriya didn't see it right away.

With a sharp movement, Izuku jumped up and startled her friends. She ran out of the room and made her way a little bit further down the corridor towards herself. It took a couple of minutes and she found a box of spicy chocolates in her cupboard, a little bit wrinkled. Today was the 14th of February and Midoriya had bought a package for Bakugou out of habit, but had changed her mind. But now she was sure that the present had to be given, when she saw the inscription with the apology.

Approaching her friend's room, Midoriya went downstairs to the boys' wing. 

"It's for you!" when the door opened, an embarrassment that came out of nowhere made Midoriya blush and she held the box in front of the boy. Noticing Bakugou's perplexed expression, she looked up shyly. "I... the writing... isn't it?"

Izuku couldn't string a few words together. So she just handed over the box silently and walked away.

"Yeah," Bakugou said and accepted the box.

"It's a friendly chocolate, don't you think."

"Yeah."

[arathergrimreaper]

J*hnny D*pp is untouchable garbage, ik, but there's one older movie of his I think about a lot called Benny & Joon, where he does this Buster Keaton sort of routine and after Joon sees it, she asks, 'Did you go to school for that?' and his character responds, 'No. I was kicked out of school for that.'

This scene and the underlying, probably unintentional, meaning of it sticks with me. For context, I'm not that talented at anything no matter how many hours I dedicate to it, but I've received compliments and more than a couple wistful 'I wish I could find time to do that's from people who've seen me crochet or draw or pole dance or what-have-you. There seems to be this misunderstanding that these things are doable for me because I have a plethora of time and resources or energy others just...don't.

This could not be further from the truth.

I make time to do these things. How? By sacrificing quality and time dedicated to the things society tells me should be the ultimate priority. Example? My crochet work drastically improved after years of false starts and finally finding the right teacher (Youtube) by...taking it to certain lectures with me in college. I would sit there and work on it even if it was large and took up my whole lap rather than taking notes. I still participated in class discussion. I still took my tests and did my essays (when ADHD and perfectionism didn't prevent me from turning in boring crap nobody gave a damn about). Classmates would look at me like I was insane, but not a single professor bothered me about it because my grades and class participation were solid.

Same thing with work. My current job is...well, I need money like many of you and 'beggars can't be choosers' yadda yadda. The point is, I have a lot of downtime in between duties and assignments, most of which only have to be done on a monthly basis. So I write. Fuck, I've written nearly three books worth of words since starting here nearly two years ago. One of which I did in a month (i was going for sterilization surgery consultation and wrote up 100 reasons and elaborations why i needed this surgery, just in case). And I draw. If anyone sees me at it (my back faces the door and there's high foot traffic by our office -_-), they don't say boo to me because I get my work done (and some of theirs too, lbr) and growing up with strict parents made swapping tabs and hiding chat rooms child's play. Thank Hephaestus for Firefox and adblockers.

I'm also not close with the majority of my blood family in the emotional or geographical sense. No real obligations there. Friends? The majority of them are...well, here. I regularly talk to and interact with 2 whole people in 2 different states. Even the effort of trying to meet more isn't a priority to me even though I make shallow attempts a couple of times a year. I'm not close to any coworkers either because I never feel I can trust them due to problems with gossipy coworkers in the past and, ofc, the current climate of people playing shoot-em-up when work pushes them past their breaking point.

Make no mistake, I am taking a risk doing these things. I risk write-ups and firing and dying alone and all kinds of shit...because I'd rather be doing art. Something I am never going to be able to live off of so I have to steal time from other things to be able to do it. When I go home, I barely have the energy to cook, clean, run errands, and do some meatsuit maintenance before I have to come back the next day. There have been so many times I've fallen asleep before I could get even partway through what I planned for the night, right at my computer or next to my sketch book.

I have to snatch back the time taken from me, there is no other recourse. Lunch breaks are not enough when we even get them (in OH, employers are not legally obligated to provide those. found that shit out at a factory i used to work at where i also wrote fanfic in a notebook between machine unloading). There are zero guarantees of a better afterlife or reward for continued suffering in this life and maybe it's the neurodivergency talking, but I refuse to waste more of it than I already have pretending the things I am forced to do are inherently better or more fulfilling than the shit I want to do.

TL;DR All this is really just to say: get sneakier. STEAL time back where you can. Else you're just going to keep wishing for more time you're never going to get.