#tried to do it in the same messy all on one layer way i did the original

[tothebestofmyabilities]

little bit of a redraw of this piece i did when the w2h2 trailer dropped now that part 1 is out!

the original has a lot of little details that i love that didn't make it into this version but im much happier with the poses and composition and color pallet idk

[comfxrtablykai]

The Art of Staying

a bucky barnes x fem!ex-hydra!reader story

Warnings: kissing, drinking, bucky calling you doll (it's a warning), no use of Y/N.

Summery: James Buchanan Barnes and you had known each other for a few years now. They were both HYDRA's minions at some point in their life which they had bonded over, but he couldn't really decipher her. Not until now, when she gave him an answer on how to.

────୨ৎ────

Maybe it was the number drinks he had, maybe it was the fact that you were wearing a cropped camisole that barely covered your perfect chest and body.

Maybe it was the fact you were sitting in the outdoor part of the bar, looking at the sea, nursing a beer instead of partying with the other Avengers. To him you looked like a dream, like something out of a 90s movie. Your hair blew lightly from the sea breeze, framing your face in a halo.

Maybe it was the fact that Bucky had finally grown a pair but he made his way outside towards you.

He stood besides you leaning against the rails, not saying anything and looking at the girl who had become his favourite headache in the few years he'd known you. "Hey, doll."

"Hey, sergeant." You spoke in that drunken drawl, your voice wrapping around the title like a slow drag of honey.

Your hair was a bit messy in the best way possible. Your lips were glossy and when you looked at him with those eyes... oh, those beautiful eyes.

You looked at him with a half lidded gaze. When his eyes looked into yours, his breath hitched. They had a longing and sadness in them he couldn't understand. You looked at him like you knew him, like you could read him like an open book and yet, he didn't know you. You still had an air of mystery to you he couldn't figure out. Ever.

He spoke his next words before he could properly think them through, "who is the real you?" Your eyes hesitated for a second before turning back to the sea, your jaw clenched.

"I don't know." You said glumly, but despite your tone your body was relaxed as if you'd made peace with the fact you didn't truly know who you were. "I still haven't figured it yet after..." you gulped and took a sip of your beer to calm your nerves. "But who I am, it makes people not wanna stick around."

He clenched his jaw and looked down in anger towards the people who had dared to leave you. No one should be left alone, he knew the feeling all too well.

But when he looked back into your eyes, for the first time he found himself understanding the longing in them. Not fully, not yet completely but enough to know he'd stripped of a layer of that mystery.

You sighed and your lips curved up slightly in a mischievous manner, which after seeing made his anger simmer down. He scoffed and shook his head with a smile.

Such a complicated, stubborn thing.

You got up from your seat, assuming the conversation was over. Your hand on the railing to balance you. But Bucky tucked a strand of stray hair behind your ear, surprising you.

"Guess I'll to do something scary," he breathed out softly with a smile. His fingers brushed against your cheek. Your skin was so soft, he wanted to keep his hand there forever. His fingers hesitantly rest at the side of your neck, his thumb brushed against your skin and his palm cupped your cheek, "and stick around."

You looked up at him with vulnerability. You tried to walk away but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, not letting you deflect him like you usually did.

He looked at you like you were an angel and you looked at him like he was your saviour.

You hadn't realised how close you both had gotten until your eyes moved down to his lips. His eyes did the same, it was only for a second when he had looked at those pretty lips of yours, but he was a goner.

He pressed his lips against yours tentatively.

Testing

Tasting

Feeling.

You tasted like your sweet beer which you had been drinking and something else which he was damn sure was ambrosia. But most importantly you tasted like everything he's ever wanted.

The kiss became more desperate, and before you both knew it, you had lost control. Your lips moved against his in an intense rhythm. Your hands travelled up his chest, feeling the ridges of his abs. He was a wall of muscle and he felt warm under your hands.

His hands trailed down your back to your thighs, his calloused hands squeezing the flesh before he gripped your hips and pulled you closer.

You let out a little whimper and softly nipped at his bottom lip, making him grunt, your tongue brushing against his.

You slowly pulled away, taking a deep breath as you looked into his blue eyes. "James..." you said breathily.

He looked at you with an adoring gaze and he had a content smile on his face. He bit his lip as he looked at you like held the whole galaxy in the palm of your hand. He pressed his lips against yours again one last time in a small peck.

He pressed his forehead against yours and whispered, "I'm gonna stick around doll." And you couldn't help but let out a little giggle.

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° together forever

( rin itoshi x gn! reader )

♡ a/n — just wanted to write this :) ( listen to what i wrote to here )

♡ content — rin itoshi x gn! reader, gn! reader, has like one flashback, set when rin is a pro soccer player ( i wrote him abt 20-22 ish ), established relationship, mentions of death, kinda heavy topics mentioned, mentions of a car crash, second chances, angst

♡ synopsis — rin itoshi had broken your heart in the snow once, you just hoped he wouldn't do it a second time.

The snow fell softly that evening.

You hadn’t noticed it at first—too preoccupied with the weight of the world pressing against your chest. But as the chill of the season seeped into your bones, a single snowflake landed delicately on your sleeve.

For a moment, it sparkled, fragile and crystalline, before dissolving into nothing. Just like that, you were back there—standing in the snow, watching Rin walk away from you.

It had been quiet that night too. No wind, no voices. Just the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears and the crunch of his boots against the snow as he left without looking back. You remembered the way your hands had trembled, not from the cold but from the weight of his words.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

You’d stood frozen in place, breath clouding in the air, trying to make sense of what he’d said. Rin had always been distant, his emotions buried deep under layers of quiet intensity and simmering anger. But he had let you in once—given you glimpses of the person behind the stoic mask.

Or so you thought.

“You don’t need me holding you back.”

You didn’t believe him, not then, not now. You’d never asked for perfection or proof of his worth. You just wanted him—messy, angry, broken Rin and all.

He had looked at you with the same detached expression he used on the field, his eyes colder than the snow falling around you.

And then, he’d left.

You blinked, the snowflake gone now, melted into your coat like it had never existed. The world around you came rushing back—the faint hum of passing cars, the faint scent of winter in the air. But the ache in your chest remained, as fresh as it had been that night.

Your feet carried you aimlessly through the city streets, the snowfall thickening as the world around you blurred into shades of white and gray. You didn’t know where you were going, and you weren’t sure you cared.

Somewhere along the way, you stopped. The park stretched out before you, blanketed in untouched snow. Your breath hitched when you realized where you were.

It wasn’t the same place, but it felt eerily similar—a quiet, empty expanse that mirrored the hollow silence you’d felt when Rin had walked away.

You knelt, brushing snow off the bench, and sat down. The cold seeped through your coat, but you welcomed it. It grounded you in a way the memories couldn’t.

Rin hadn’t spoken to you since that night. Weeks passed, then months. The world moved on, as it always did. But you stayed stuck in that moment, the ghost of him haunting every snowfall, every fleeting memory of warmth.

He left because of Sae. You knew that much. Everything Rin did was tethered to the brother who had left him behind. Rin thought he had to surpass him, had to become something greater, even if it meant carving pieces of himself away to do so. You had tried to be enough, to remind him that he was worthy just as he was.

But Rin wasn’t the type to let himself be loved. Not fully, not without a fight.

Somewhere, in the blur of snow and memory, you felt the weight of someone’s gaze. You looked up, and your breath caught in your throat.

He was there. Rin Itoshi, standing a few feet away, hands in his coat pockets and snowflakes caught in his dark hair. He hadn’t changed much. The sharpness in his eyes, the tension in his posture—it was all the same. And yet, something was different.

He wasn’t walking away this time.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he said, his voice soft but steady, like the snow itself.

Your heart twisted painfully. You wanted to say something, anything, but the words stuck in your throat. Rin took a hesitant step closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I…” He trailed off, glancing to the side as if searching for the right words. “I didn’t know how to come back. After that night.”

The silence hung heavy between you. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply waited.

The snow fell gently around you, blanketing the park in an ethereal quiet. It was just the two of you now: you on the bench, Rin standing a few steps away, his hands buried in his coat pockets. For a moment, it felt like nothing had changed, like the months of silence between you hadn’t stretched into an aching chasm.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Rin said, his voice as soft as the falling snow. “Leaving you. I thought… if I stayed, I’d ruin you.”

You shook your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You didn’t ruin me, Rin. You broke me.”

His jaw tightened at your words, and for a fleeting moment, you saw something crack in his armor. “I know,” he whispered. “I know I did.”

The air between you felt heavier than the snowfall, every word teetering on the edge of something unresolved. But for once, Rin didn’t look away. His eyes met yours, unguarded and raw in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“I wanted to come back,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “I just didn’t know how.”

You let the silence stretch, watching as the snow caught in his hair and on his lashes. For so long, you’d imagined this moment—what you’d say to him if you ever saw him again, the anger you’d unleash, the questions you’d demand answers to. But now that he was here, all you felt was the aching warmth of a fire long since extinguished.

“I didn't need you to be perfect, Rin,” you said softly, your breath clouding in the cold air. “I just needed you to stay.”

He took a hesitant step forward, his hands unclenching as if he wanted to reach for you but couldn’t quite bring himself to. “I didn’t know how to stay,” he said, almost pleading. “But I never stopped… I never stopped wanting to.”

You felt your heart ache at his words, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the layers of hurt you’d carried for so long. For a moment, it felt like the snow around you was melting, the cold giving way to something warmer, something hopeful.

“Here,” you said, reaching into your pocket for your phone. “Let’s not leave it like this again.” You unlocked the screen, the faint light illuminating your hands as you extended it toward him. “Your number.”

Rin’s lips curved ever so slightly—a ghost of a smile that you hadn’t seen in years. He nodded, stepping closer to take it. But just as your gaze flickered down to the phone in your hands, you felt the shift in the air. The warmth you’d felt moments ago dissolved into an eerie stillness.

When you looked back up, Rin was gone.

At first, you thought he’d walked away again. That same gnawing ache of abandonment clawed at your chest, but you forced yourself to push it down. “Rin?” you called out, your voice trembling as you stood and scanned the park. The snow had thickened, making it hard to see, but there were no footsteps in the freshly fallen blanket. No sign of him at all.

You sat back down on the bench, your hands trembling as you clutched your phone. “Typical,” you muttered bitterly, the sting of his disappearance all too familiar. He’d always run when things got too close, too real. But this time had felt different—or at least you wanted to believe it had.

Just as you were about to leave, your phone buzzed in your hand. The notification banner from your news app flashed on the screen, and you glanced at it absently. But the headline froze the breath in your lungs:

Famous Soccer Player, Rin Itoshi, Declared Dead at Scene of Car Crash.

The world tilted, your heart plummeting as the words registered. You stared at the screen, the letters swimming in your vision. Your fingers trembled as you clicked the notification, the article loading slowly, painfully, as if the universe wanted to drag out your disbelief.

“Rin Itoshi, star striker and younger brother of Sae Itoshi, was involved in a fatal car accident late this afternoon…”

The time listed matched when you’d first sat down in the park. Your stomach churned violently, your breaths coming shallow and uneven. No. No, this couldn’t be right. You’d just seen him, just spoken to him. He was here, in front of you, just moments ago.

But then, the snow… the way he’d disappeared…

Your phone slipped from your hands, landing in the snow beside the bench as the realization struck you like a blow to the chest. Rin hadn’t walked away this time. He couldn’t.

And yet, somehow, he had come back to you. Just for a moment, just long enough to say the things he’d never been able to before. Just long enough to say goodbye.

You sank into the bench, tears spilling freely now as the snowfall thickened around you. The cold seeped into your skin, but you didn’t care. The ache in your chest felt unbearable, like a void that could never be filled.

Still, in the midst of your grief, a faint warmth flickered. Because for the first time, Rin hadn’t run. He hadn’t left you in the snow. He’d come back.

Even if only as a ghost of what could’ve been.

lol so um this is the first time i cried while writing this stuff :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[terraswallows]

A little something about me.

Apparently, I wasn’t an obvious egg in high school—which is kind of wild when I think about it now. I mean, sure, I was your typical weeb with a controller in one hand and a sketchpad in the other. I loved art, dabbled in creative writing, tried poetry (badly—but the yearning was there!), and I had this weird knack for music that felt more like instinct than talent. At the same time, I was oddly physical—I did target shooting, loved being active, had this sturdy build that made me look more "tough nerd" than soft femme.

But inside? Inside I was floating, always dissociating just a little. Not lost, exactly—just… not me. Yet somehow, I managed to pass through those years with this soft little bubble of friends, endlessly cracking puns, being silly, staying single, and clinging to hobbies like lifelines. I didn’t even realize I was lonely until much later. I just existed. And even though things felt wrong in my bones, I didn’t know how to name that ache.

I was always more in tune with girls. Always gravitated toward softness, empathy, connection. I did things that were considered “girly,” even if I wrapped them up in a nerdy little shell. And the people around me? So many of them were queer, without even trying. It’s like my soul was a beacon calling out to others who didn’t quite fit, just like me.

I hated getting haircuts. Hated body hair, especially facial hair—it made my skin crawl in ways I couldn’t explain back then. And no matter what I did, my body never quite followed the script. I had curves when no one else did. Hips that refused to disappear. I thought something was wrong with me… so I did what a scared, confused teen might do: I tried to disappear beneath layers of weight. I didn’t know what intersex was. I didn’t know that maybe, just maybe, there was something beautifully different about me—something I’d one day learn to love.

Now, looking back with clearer eyes and softer skin, I realize all those signs were there, shimmering like fairy lights waiting to be noticed. I was a girl blooming in secret—messy, awkward, poetic, and full of longing. A future trans lesbian just waiting for the day she'd find her sisters, her sapphic circle, her tender chaos, and maybe a flirty cutie or two to kiss her on the forehead and say, “You’ve always been this. You’ve always been ours.”

[just-randie]

great gatsby main cast but i attempt to draw them in lackadaisy artstyle

had load of fun working on these and i’m quite happy with how it turned out <3

design notes under cut!! (i wrote these at 1 am)

Myrtle

- i wanted her to have this bright, palette that would grab one’s attention.

- based her on the 1974 movie Myrtle and while i haven’t seen it (yet) i did like her fit there better in terms of adapting it for character design. it seemed to have more personality.

- some dress layers to show how she tries to be high class. layers = this illusion. but yk inequality and all, so it’s still just a dress and not much has changed

- curling fur/hair for that energetic and a bit femme-fatal feel to her

- even made her whiskers curly to convey that better

- chose a calico cat since it adds to the palette i was aiming for while providing a new colour + calico cats are stereotyped to be quite sassy so yeah

- rounded by narrowed eyes + blue eye shadow => link to Daisy with her round blue eyes. Myrtle wanted Tom to choose her.

- shortest character btw

George

- Tabby which links him to Tom’s design (Myrtle has a type lol)

- expanding on point above, i really wanted the viewer to think that if you had placed him in a fancy suit he’d probably be better than Tom, but alas capitalism and inequality

- anyway, his fit is based on the 2013 film one. really wanted that contrast between the light shirt and the brown fur, so that the blue (fuck idk how this piece of cloth is in english fucckkkk) wouldn’t blend with the brown tone-wise.

- + blue kinda compliments the brown, so we have some hue contrast going on

- oh yeah, he gets more colour than Tom because fuck Tom

- ruffled, messy fur cuz he actually has work to do (unlike others) + scar on nose from work as well as the plaster on arm(/paw?)

- tallest character!

Tom

- fuck this man. i took all of his colours and made him pretty desaturated! why? hes a pretentious guy who thinks that high class will absolve him of his wrongdoings. a very bland belief hence he gets no colours >:(

- liked the mustache from the 1974 film, so here it is! whisker follow direction of mustache to emphasize it

- very orange eyes to emphasize the potential for his outbursts + they’re sharp cuz that mf is finding out stuff on Jay

- also groomed spiky fur for same reasons as above

- ring on right paw!

- made him an american short hair cuz ik he’d kill himself if he was anything else /j

Daisy

- i wonder where the green colour palette came from 👀 (green light. shocker!)

- was contemplating whether to give her that fur on her shoulders but since i saw that insane picture of a ragdoll cat that screamed Daisy I NEEDED TO KEEP THE FLUFF OKAY????

- based on 2013 movie (i really liked the head piece)

- throw in some tint of yellow at the bottom of the dress for that link with death symbolism <3

- round(ed) forms of fur + eyes cuz she appears innocent and wants to be seen that way!! the “i hope she’ll be a fool” thing” iykyk

- dress not layered at all like say Myrtle, even tho it has a pattern. she appears as she is: a high class, rich girl. she’s not hiding it. (painfully obvious even tho Jay falls for it)

- red necklace = bright colour = link to Tom’s bright orange eyes. they’re married and have had spent time together that can’t be undone.

- ring on right paw!

Jay

- the classic pink suit seen in so many mediums and media

- rounded diamond like eyes cuz yk while he’s this gentleman, the narrowed eyes do imply that he’s being sneaky about something (oh got his past)

- linking to trying to hide things: high collar!

- torn ear + scar on paw + twisted whiskers from war. (i will forever be annoying about how S. Fitzgerald missed this topic COMPLETELY if not outright wrongly represented it through like one line)

- kinda the 2013 based (i didn’t like the hair being like gelled backwards/neatly styled so here it’s more wavy like that)

- joined fur => tried to imply that softness it would have to show that this guy’s pretty naïve with his obsession over his dream

- taller than Tom (important)

- didn’t give him any specific cat breed but i was looking at a bunch of fawn colored cats for this one. the pictures ranged from elegant to silly, so that, i thought, is fitting

Nick

- what if i told you he’s the second shortest here? (SHORT KING!!!!!)

- but to elaborate this guy has been witnessing everything in the book, so idk short height implies the sneakiness

- the idea for clothing: i kinda borrowed from that wiki page pic on him with the still from 1923 movie. I reallyyyyy liked the hat and the implied light palette of the suit

- speaking of palettes, a tint of green because i’m funny like that

- but also cuz it went well with the palette for the fur i established prior

- the fur thing was crazy to think of. first i thought that he might have some burmese cat energy but then i started on that colour and didn’t like it, so it kinda morphed into my cat’s fur colour but lighter (my cat is my pfp). and yk what? this process makes sense since i believe we don’t get anything at all on his appearance from the book.

- anyway rounded face cuz he tries to appear like unbiased hence tries to look pleasant

- but messy tail tip and pointy ears cuz he does have that bias

- scar + torn ear on brow from war (again, i’m annoyed with Fitzgerald)

- only one to have GREEN eyes cuz i’m funny like that (Jay, this is the only green thing you should be losing yourself in)

- bow tie instead of a tie, to give him that distinction as a narrator

Jordan

- siamese cat. i always associated her with a siamese cat

- big/long ears for the fact that she’s very aware of what’s happening in her surroundings! + narrowed eyes since she’s suspicious of ppl (like Jay) + perked up whiskers as she’s paying attention

- gets gold/yellow elements for that entire metaphor she made about being a bad driver (i would explain my interpretation of this metaphor but these are design notes)

- kind of layered dress. she is quite honest yet she doesn’t fully disclose things. she knows her way around this society

- zig zag tail. again, knows how to maneuver herself in this society, which gives her the independence she has

- blue palette of dress stands out against warmer tones of fur; suggestion of this being something that she barely wears on day-to-day basis

[maddipoof]

let’s understand that this is Mara immediately post breakup so this means i get to have it as wild as i want it to be...but anyway, all i’ve been thinking about is rebounding with Danny, duh. Beyond suggestive, it's directly implied, 2k words and a big thank you to @frnchgirls, rose is a most gracious help. Enjoy 🥰

“What about like this?”

If anyone asked Danny the series of events that led him here, there would be no sane answer. Friday night he meets you at the Vandals’ bar, Saturday night he learns that you live in Chicago but were dating another Vandal in a different chapter and just suffered a messy break up, and by Sunday afternoon he’s got you posing on his bed with the brand new knowledge that before you got into that relationship you were a lingerie model until that guy made you quit. 

“Danny?” You ask him again, leaning on your elbows and one knee slightly bent to the side over the other.

He shakes himself out of his daydreaming to realize that reality is ten times better and hopes you don’t notice his dazed off gaze from your side of the camera. “Yeah?”

“Is this a good pose?” 

Kathy told you that you should get back into modeling, then offered Danny to help you practice, maybe get new photos to show some agents.  Neither of you were busy this weekend, so now here you are in a brand new soft blue babydoll negligee that she made you buy the minute she heard about the split, on Danny’s bed. 

God, how he washed those sheets and cleaned all over his apartment as soon as you asked if you could do it at his place. It hasn’t been so neat since he toured the place. But now there you are wanting him to tell you if you look good in your lingerie on his bed. But photography is his job, he’s a professional, he can do this.

He could do this, if his tongue wasn’t suddenly tied until he swallowed thickly. “Yeah, maybe you just lean back a little more?”

“Like this?”

“Perfect.” He captures the picture and tries some more from a few different angles. “What about laying down?”

“Mhm,” you move a bit further down the bed and let your hair fall around you as best it could on its own. “Here?”

“Yeah, can I move your hair?”

“Yeah,” he rearranges your strands so they frame your face perfectly and look as effortless as possible.

“Gorgeous.” The shudder clicks right as he said it, so fast that he hits it a second time just to catch your smile when he says it.

“Really?” He catches the moment your face changes from eyes closed and sultry, to open and joyous.

“Beautiful.”

“Me? Or just your pictures? 

“You, and the pictures of you.”

“Thank you,” you roll over again and he gets one from another angle. 

It was never anything crazy, the sets you modeled. Just some odd jobs for more local boutiques, never anything obscene or ridiculously lavish. Danny refuses to believe that though. You make plastic rhinestones shine like diamonds. Machine spun cotton lace looks like hand threaded silk from Paris the second it touches your skin. 

“Do you think we got enough of this one?” you ask.

“I think so. I can get these developed and have them ready in a few days,” he starts packing his camera away. “What size did you say you wanted?”

“Oh I don’t know, but— Well actually I brought one more thing to try on. Unless you want to be done?”

He’s not sure how much more of this he can really take. How much longer can he be in the same room as you before he busts just from looking at you. 

“Yeah, sure- I’ll be in the kitchen.”

He tries not to stare as you slide of the bed and start looking through the bag you brought on his way out the door. 

3 minutes later your head is poked out of the door and into the kitchen, “Danny, you can come in now.”

Oh what a sight you are. The black nightgown reaches down all the way to your ankles, the silky fabric falls over your hips so perfectly, and the only thing between the air and your chest is a thin layer of the finest lace he’s ever seen. “I haven’t worn this in years.”

“That’s a shame.” He can’t believe he’s said that, especially in the tone he did, like he couldn’t believe you wouldn’t even wear it just by yourself. You must know how you look in it, how it looks tailored to your body in every square inch. 

“I know. But he didn’t like it. It’s vintage Chantelle, all silk. Didn’t know how to appreciate it properly.” You sit back on the bed again and just then he notices the slit up one side that just about nears the top of your thigh. 

You’re about to take a new pose when he asks you a most peculiar question. 

“I’m sorry?” You ask.

“Do you mind if I move you?” He says with more confidence this time and what a gift that he did.

“Sure.”

He sets the camera down on his dresser and comes towards you. With his hands on your shoulders— your nearly bare shoulders, his thumbs fitting perfectly just into the dips of your clavicles —he leads you to lay down against the pillows and rearranges your hair. He takes one of your hands and places it beside your head, the other he moves across your torso with your hand cusping your hip bone. He steps back a bit to consider your legs, with respect to the slit. After slowly, so slowly coasting down the length of your leg, he softly pulls one ankle down straight, and pushes the other slitted one up so that it is slightly bent at the knee and tilts it towards the other. 

He takes a second to look at you, really look at you, and he can’t believe anyone would ever try to keep you from this. 

Maybe he’s just getting to know your form, for the sake of the composition, you think. But only for a moment before you see him suck his bottom lip between his teeth, just for a second but you notice. 

Finally, finally, he takes the first picture of you like this. With the click of the shutter you’ve made your mind up, you decide to press your luck. “What if I like…” you bring the hand that was on your hip up to your mouth and bite the top knuckle of your index finger.

“Yes.”

“What’s the look you’re thinking though?”

“They’re your pictures. I’m thinking whatever you want me to think.”

“But you’re the photographer, the artist.”

“You’re the art.”

“Would you kiss me?”

He nearly drops the camera. “What?”

“They like when pictures tell stories, the story would be that I’m messy and ravished and the clothes are serving their intended purpose. If you’re alright with that?”

He so absolutely, most certainly, positively is more than just alright with that. “Yeah, ok.”

You push yourself back up on the bed while he positions himself at the edge. “So how do you wa—“ he’s cut off by your pull to his collar and the press of your lips. Surpassing his initial surprise he brings a hand up around you to hold your waist, and the other up to your jaw. Messy, you want it messy. And salacious, lascivious even. Beyond suggestive, obvious is what you need. He can tell from the way you continue to pull him into you even as his chest is flush against yours. 

You pull away panting for no more than a second to order “Get the camera off the bed.” How sweet of you to be concerned, he nearly leaps over you to put it on the nightstand and he’d like to say ‘if it were any less expensive’ he would have just thrown it, but he knows that the price of it wasn’t what stopped him, it was the fear of damaging even a single one of those pictures of you. 

As he’s leaning over you, you slide down a little further on the bed so he can reach you easier. Or maybe to muss your hair up a little more if it’s against the pillows, or any other excuse you could make to make it seem like this is all for the picture and not your own desires. 

From there it is licks, bites, tugs, sucks of lips. And you’re trying, you’re both trying to keep your hands out of it, but how could you when his hair is so soft and the back of his neck is the perfect shape for you to hold. And how could he when your skin is so perfect and your bare leg is right there.

“I want a hickey.”

“Huh?”

“Kiss my neck.” He kisses you twice more on his way to your throat and you can’t help the sound you make when he reaches the perfect spot. Already he has you gasping for air. “Oh god.” His hand slithers up the slit, sliding even higher in search of your hip bone or waist to hold. 

“Wait,” He lifts himself to be eye level with you, “wait—“

“Hm?”

“Sorry, just…You’re—This is real now, right?”

“Yes, yes, very real.” You rush to pull him back down to your lips and nearly crash noses with the way he rushes down to meet you. 

“Mmph,” he groans at the scratch of your nails across his scalp and just the sound makes your back arch. Moving down again, he passes soft kisses down the valley of your chest. You’re positive he can feel the beat of your heart through every inch of your skin. How you’ve missed this, being wanted, being adored. And how he’s missed crossing beyond the other side of the lens, the feel of sculpting another body just by the skill of his touch. 

As he’s pushing the side of your skirt up and away a sudden fear strikes you, “Wait!”

“What is it?” He immediately sits back and takes his hands away, looking into your eyes for any cause for concern.

“I’m so sorry, but I really don’t want to rip it.”

“Oh,” you see him immediately relax, “So…”

You make no answer, though you do sit up to your knees and move the skirt out from underneath you. With a gesture to the strap that has fallen off your shoulder, he finally gets the message. However, in the spirit of fairness, his own shirt is the first thing to go and before you have time to remember your original intent you both rise on your knees just to kiss again. You feel before you look while your hands roam his torso. 

And slowly, so slowly, through wandering presses, pulls, and squeezes, he reaches the sides of your thighs and takes your nightgown by the seams to lift it over your head. He takes it by the straps to hang by the corner of the headboard rather than tossing it to the floor. 

You guide him forwards as you move to your back again, his knee moves between your legs while his fingertips smooth along your jaw. His eyes dance around your face, and as embarrassed as he may be to admit it, he takes a fleeting glance down the space between your bodies. An idea flashes before him, a bold one, but at this point in the afternoon he’s not sure there’s much left that could happen between you two that’d be too bold. He reaches for the camera slowly enough that you knew exactly what he wants. You resist the instinct to shy away when you still see his soft gaze over the camera. The shudder clicks and he drops it back on the nightstand, “That one’s not making it into the book,” Danny smirks at his own teasing before leaning back into you to finish what he started with a smile still on his lips. 

[kozachenko]

[Click image for better quality]

I FIGURED OUT A WAY TO FUCKING MAKE THE IMAGE SMALLER FOR POSTING ON TUMBLR WITHOUT SACRIFICING THE ACTUAL QUALITY OF THE IMAGE OH MY GOD

Ok so, what I did is go into the clip studio paint file, make a new file, copy and paste the group in the original file, merge everything, get rid of the extra stuff outside of the canvas, and then make the flattened image smaller and crop the canvas. Once you have that, export it and you're done. This helps maintain the actual quality of the image and also helps shrink the file size down to something actually postable (if anyone has a better way of doing this please tell me)

[Edit]: Ok I guess posting something to Tumblr just naturally compresses the image a bit more somehow because I'm looking at it now and zooming in too much makes it a bit blurry so I'm still gonna have to futz around with image quality for future pieces oof

Artist's Note:

I'm so glad I figured out a way to do this because I like working on a big canvas so I can get as much detail in as I possibly can. Only problems are how laggy it gets while drawing lol.

I had an idea for a drawing with Reimu and Zanmu because I really like thinking about their potential dynamic a lot. I also wanted an excuse to draw Zanmu again but in my normal rendering style because last time I drew her she was in my more sketchy style with generally flat colours so I wanted to draw her again. Speaking of, looking at the sketch for this is a jumpscare that I never enjoy seeing, like, man am I glad I didn't use those for my final piece.

Also about her spear. I was originally gonna make it like the ones she had in game, but it kinda threw off the whole piece. It was too big, too blue, and too flat, so I just went "fuck it" and gave her a different one instead. My headcanon justifying this is that the ones she uses in game are for danmaku battles whereas in any other fight she just uses a proper yari, or she still uses the yari and just makes it all glowy to power it up, maybe both lol. I pulled as much inspiration as I could from Sengoku era spears, and even put in some blue into the decorative part of the spear and also added a little skull to pay tribute to the original spear. Also, in my research I saw some art of izanami and izanagi making japan and saw that the yari izanagi has had a little decorative tassley thingy on it so I took some inspo from that and just made it one of Zanmu's tassles (Idk when that art was from or if the spear was still accurate to Sengoku period Japan but hey, probably the same reasons Eirin puts little bow ties on her arrows, it's just for personalization purposes).

I love rendering hair and clothes so much omg, while I like the super curly hair Zanmu, the longer, wavier hair suits her better for this drawing (I imagine it only does that like how Ghibli characters hair moves when they feel angry lol). I love making Zanmu's hair all messy and crazy, as well as giving her grey hairs, this woman has aged like a fine wine. Also, if the hem on the ends of her sleeves, top of her shirt, and her pants look like gold to you, that's because it is! It's fairly light so she's not collapsing under the weight, but it's gold! (I don't care how impractical it is, it's just cool). Not the undershirt though, it's made of a gold fabric. I had a cute idea with Reimu's hair to make it have a red shine to it. I also changed up Reimu's outfit so it isn't just a blob of red. I like it a lot when Reimu's skirt and outfit is segmented into different layers, so I wanted to incorporate that.

I tried to draw their hands differently as well, but IDK how noticeable that is. Also, I am super happy with how the side profiles for the two of them turned out, I used to struggle a lot with how to make the side profile of a character actually look like the character, so I'm really happy that they actually look like themselves.

Also added in the tree and rocks in the background as an homage to Zanmu's character art in Touhou 19, just because I was getting kinda stumped on what to do with the background lol.

In terms of a story idea with Reimu and Zanmu, idk why but the potential plotline of Zanmu wanting to ascend to godhood is so fascinating to me. Like, it is very possible that if she just convinced everyone she was a god (which would be very easy for her to do), she would become one in a heartbeat. Also, if she were to become a god, with her ability to return stuff to nothing, could she hypothetically get similar abilities to (Jojo Part 5 spoiler btw) GER? Like, idk about the death timeloop stuff, but the concept has been haunting me every night as I have been trying to find loopholes in GER's ability for a while now ( for no reason in particular). Back to the main topic, I imagine that she would probably tell Reimu that if she were to become a god she would take over the Hakurei shrine since the god there might as well be dead, and Reimu just says to her, "Over my dead body bitch." Like, I have no idea how to summarize their dynamic but like, it's the type of hero-villain dynamic where the phrase "We're not so different, you and I" would definitely be a phrase said during a fight. I think that if another IN style game were to release, Reimu and Zanmu would be in a team together. They could also have an interesting mentor and pupil kind of dynamic. Can you tell that Zanmu has been charging my mind rent these part few months? Like, instead of living in my head rent free, she kinda just uno reversed the whole situation and now she's the one charging me rent. What happens if I get evicted from my own brain? Actually, scratch that, I don't think I wanna know.

[abandonedquishe]

I want in on the REAL Susie analysis 🙏

YOU DID THIS. IT'LL BE THE HOLY GRAIL OF YAPS.

Little Tw for child neglect, abuse and self-destructive behaviours

Susie is a very different character from most young monsters in Deltarune. Just from her outer appearance, you can tell she's messy, defensive, and careless. This is a great contrast from the average kid; even Kris, who's considered an outcast, has a more childlike aura than her.

Noelle is a good comparison model of what a child of her age should look like:

Hair: Both Noelle and Susie have the same length of hair. However, Noelle's is visibly more taken care of; she has it trimmed in layers, brushed, and out of her face. Susie, on the other hand, has hair with a bunch of flyaways that is obviously not styled with just the slightest trace of a past haircut, which she has already overgrown by the look of her bangs.

Clothes: Noelle has new, colourful clothes. They are formal and match, not to mention they're her size. Susie has baggy, dull clothes that have obviously gone through some wear and tear. Her shoes, too, are slightly too big and feel out of place if we consider the rest of the outfit.

Stance: Noelle has a visibly relaxed stance. Her head stands tall, her hands rest peacefully by her sides, and she's smiling. Susie's head hangs low, her hands are clenched into fists, and she has a serious expression on her face.

Interaction with others: Noelle is respectful, positive, and demure with her interactions. She's happy to interact and be vulnerable with others. Susie is satirical, cynical, and often uses foul language around people. She's used to roughhousing, even when she wants to express affection (as seen in chapter 2 when Ralsei shows her the room he made for her) and refuses to accept help despite needing it, reaching extremes such as becoming violent to keep others away (this is also shown in chapter 2 when she falls from the trash pile and Ralsei tries to help her, she's clearly in bad terms with the idea of being seen as weak).

These are her most noticeable traits, and the ones most people know her by. They all can be justified with a root problem, and oh boy, do I love the theory I'm about to show you. What I think of Susie is this: she comes from an abusive, neglectful household, which gave her violence and pain as her only defence and coping mechanisms. Her traits and other small cues can be justified with this theory:

Hair: Susie’s unkempt and overgrown hair suggests a lack of basic grooming, which children usually don’t manage on their own. Her parents either had bigger priorities or didn't classify a haircut as a need, so they left it unattended. This is a possible sign of child neglect, or lack of care by her parents. In my opinion, it’s not about fashion. it's about being forgotten or ignored.

Clothes: Susie may wear hand-me-downs, donation center finds, or simply clothing she’s outgrown but never replaced. The fact that her clothes are baggy, worn and dull suggests she either doesn’t get new clothes often or intentionally dresses in a way that’s meant to intimidate and deflect attention. This could reflect neglect neglect since no one is providing her with fresh clothes, poverty in case she isn’t able to afford them or emotional self-defence from trying to look unapproachable or keep a low profile.

Interaction with others: Susie lashes out quickly, uses sarcasm or intimidation as her first reaction, and doesn’t allow others to help her easily. This is classic trauma-based behaviour, especially in children who’ve learned that vulnerability leads to pain or deception. Her rough shows of affection like nudging Ralsei hard when he's kind to her are a result of not knowing how to express care gently. She might have grown up in an environment where emotional expression was punished or simply never modeled. Her sense of affection is physical, brash, and awkward because she’s never been shown how to do it safely.

This is connected with the last point, but lines like:

"Now I can stab myself during the night. Finally, some convenience."

"When I see a big pit, all I want to do is jump in."

"If it weren’t for the spikes, I would've impaled myself."

are very concerning to me. These kinds of behaviours often show a lack of care for safety or self-destructive tendencies in a person, and seeing them in someone so young is alarming, especially because they’re often learned.

Another point I want to touch is the fact Susie probably has PICA. She’s caught eating chalk outside of her class in chapter one, something Alphys says she’s repeatedly done before. The psychological disorder I‘m talking about makes individuals consume non-food substances. In children, pica is often associated with malnutrition, stress, trauma or poor supervision of parents. Other instances in which this is evidenced is how she eats moss with Kris and tree sap with Lancer (he is also a confirmed abused kid who could’ve developed similar coping mechanisms due to the poor diet his father provided for him btw, which could be the reason Susie bonded so fast with him).

We could also take the fact she’s never had a room of her own to justify the theory her parents have neglected her. She’s never had something that was truly hers; no belongings, no space of her own, not even an ounce of love or positive attention. I think this is one of the most important aspects to take in consideration.

If you take all of these points in consideration, Susie isn’t a childish bully, but a traumatised child who’s trying to survive after experiencing a very shitty childhood. I’m not justifying her actions, but I believe she targeted others to project the trauma she’s been through as a way to process it all. This is also probably why she’s chosen Kris to torment, their withdrawn attitude could remind her of the shy, quiet and surrendered personality of the little kid she once was.

[pupypistol]

High on you II ʟɪᴘ ɢᴀʟʟᴀɢʜᴇʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

warnings: drugssss and alcohol and suggestiveness summary: Lip takes y/n to a party and they play seven minutes in heaven requested?: nop merp :p

Going to parties wasn’t something Y/n usually made time for, but Lip personally asked her to tag along—and she wasn’t about to ruin his night.

She scanned her closet, knowing there wouldn’t be much ‘party attire’—social gatherings just weren’t her scene.

She settled on a black dress with delicate lace trim, then threw on an oversized hoodie over it—using the extra layer to feel a bit more covered and less exposed around all those people.

Her phone rang somewhere in the room. She turned away from the mirror and spotted it buried beneath a pile of dresses she’d tried on earlier.

“I’m here. You coming?” Lip’s voice came through, and she could hear his car honking outside.

“I’m on my way, give me one minute!!" She hung up before he could say more, grabbed her small backpack, slipped her phone inside, and checked the mirror one last time.

Outside, Lip rolled down the passenger window and waved. Sliding into the car, she placed her bag on her lap, buckled in, and smiled as he teased, “you look good.”

“Mm, you don’t look too bad yourself,” she joked, earning an eye roll.

—

The party was exactly what she expected: a bunch of idiots competing to see who could get drunker, higher, or both.

Lip was in his element—sharing blunts, taking shots, and passing tokes with friends and strangers alike.

Y/n didn’t usually bother with dumb stuff like that, except for sharing a joint with her dormmate occasionally, but since she was here already, it couldn't hurt to have some fun.

She sat on the couch, legs draped over Lip’s lap, surrounded by people she didn’t know, acting like kids at a sleepover nonetheless.

When the bong was passed to her, Lip had to hold it and light the bowl for her, feeling awkward as everyone else already knew what to do.

The smoke burned her throat, and she coughed— maybe even more than everyone else.

“You okay? Here, water.” Lip handed her a bottle, his voice rough—probably from the smoke. She wouldn’t have guessed he was high or drunk if she hadn’t watched him all night. “How do you not look high at all, pothead?” she teased, laughing with him.

“I’m used to it. If you’re not feeling good, we can go somewhere else.” His hand rested on her thigh, thumb rubbing softly.

She shook her head. “I’m good.”

“Who wants to play a game?” A blond guy called to the group, getting cheers from the drunk and high.

Suddenly, the high hit her all at once—her eyes grew heavy, and everything around her felt both sharp and distant. Time dragged and raced at the same time, like she was stuck somewhere between a dream and real life.

“Y/n?" Lip was looking at her like he'd been trying to grab her attention for a while, "You look stoned,” He laughed.

Her cheeks flushed red, not finding it nearly as funny. “Stop it, I rarely smoke—I’m not a stoner like you.” She coughed, sipping her water.

“We got picked for 7 Minutes in Heaven,” he said, standing.

She hadn’t even noticed the game starting. “Hm, yeah, okay,” she mumbled, standing—at least she thought she did. She could barely feel her legs beneath her, so she let Lip lead the way, too high to protest or care.

Before she knew it, they were squeezed into a narrow space behind a door — maybe a storage alcove or utility nook — dimly lit and just barely big enough for the two of them.

“I’ve never played this before,” she said matter-of-factly, sitting face-to-face with Lip, his hair messy, but cute.

“Alright, we can just ask each other questions for seven minutes. I’ll start.” He didn’t break eye contact, thinking.

“Have you ever gotten drunk?”

“No, you know I hate the taste,” she said, leaning back—everything around her felt slow and unreal, like she was drifting through a dream.

“My turn,” she chirped. “What’s the longest time you’ve ghosted someone?”

“Hm, I ghosted you for a week.” He smiled, chuckling lightly.

“Not true, you reply in two seconds every time.”

Questions flew back and forth, nonstop joking and laughter bounced off the walls.

Suddenly, courage—or cockiness—surged.

“How many times...” she paused for effect “have you thought about me while touching yourself?”

Maybe it was the drugs, but she was certain he could see her heart pounding through her chest.

“What?” he was all smug amusement- he’d heard her just fine, but wanted to hear it again.

“You heard me, Lip.”

She closed the space between them as she straddled his lap, her dress sliding up her thighs and head spinning.

“Don’t pretend you haven’t.”

Her hands found his shoulders, fingers firm. The look in her eyes dared him to deny it.

Lip cocked an eyebrow at her, “That came out of nowhere,” he chuckled, clearly entertained by this bolder side of Y/n. His hands rested on her thighs, brushing his thumbs over her exposed skin.

“So you admit it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Her warm breath brushed his face, lips just inches from his. He fought the urge to kiss her—no matter how badly he wanted to.

“Then deny it.”

He’d seen enough of her smug, cocky act, "I think about you every time"

His lips brushed her ear, sending a shiver through her before trailing down to her neck with soft, deliberate kisses.

Each kiss made her nerves tingle, her head spinning even more from the high coursing through her veins.

A gasp slipped from her, and the confidence she’d worn moments before vanished—replaced by a flustered, timid girl.

“Lip..” A whine escaped as he nibbled her neck, her hands slid beneath his shirt, palms tracing up his chest, pushing the fabric higher. She dragged them back down just as slowly, savoring the feel of his skin under her touch.

Everything was quiet except for heavy breathing and occasional whines—and the sound of his kisses on her neck, making her head spin.

Just as fast as it started, he pulled back, breathless. His messy hair clung to his sweaty forehead as he looked her in the eyes—like he was searching for something.

“Hm?” She whined, eyes locked on his, feeling higher than before—not just from the drugs.

He looked her over, that familiar smug smirk tugging at his lips as she pouted up at him, clearly not getting her way.

“You’re hot as hell right now,” he said, brushing a thumb across her lip. “But I’m not letting you blame the drugs tomorrow.”

He leaned in, lips just shy of hers, eyes locked on hers like a challenge.

“You still want this when you’re sober?” His grin deepened. “Then I’m all yours.”

“I always want you sober,” she muttered, sliding off him.

His chest was still heaving as he tugged his shirt back down, watching her with that same unreadable expression.

She was slightly embarrassed now that her head was clear— well as clear as it could be.

“You’re not mad?” He asked.

She giggled "why would I be mad?” She rolled her eyes playfully, though a little disappointed “This just means you’re coming home with me tonight..”

It seemed like a good idea now—but later, it might be awkward.

Just then the door creaked open, and a wobbly girl appeared in frame.

“Oh... this ones taken” she slurred before wobbling away, a guy trailing behind her like a lost puppy.

Thinking about it, they had definitely been in there longer than seven minutes.

Lip chuckled, pulling her up. “I think we lost track of time.” He laughed, "want to go outside, get some fresh air?” he tilted his head toward the back door.

She nodded, walking beside him, her eyes flickering over to him as he caught her hand to steady her.

“You’ve got something on your neck,” he smirked, tracing a mark.

She didn’t need to see to know she was littered in hickeys.

“I’m gonna get you back for that.” She meant to nudge his arm, but instead she stumbled and fell right into him.

He caught her waist, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "looking forward to it."

[yuurivoice]

Maybe kind of a basic question, but In what ways are writing a novel and writing for your audio rps/dramas different? In what ways are they similar? Also, congratulations on starting your novel!

The immediate wall I hit while approaching those first paragraphs was the pressure I put on myself to write "correctly". It's not so much the dialog, the story beats, structure, etc. which apparently is what a lot of writers struggle with, but for me it's like......the rules of writing? Like basic 101 type shit. Formatting dialog and the associated rules and unique little bumps you come up against in structuring it had me pulling my hair out.

But I just accepted that it is gonna be a little messy and probably need someone who Does This Shit For Real to come through in the earliest edits and show me what I messed up.

And as it turns out, once I accepted it, it really wasn't that fucking big of a deal lmfao

I still am not a planner. I feel very insecure seeing all these authors on Tiktok who have immaculate planning, outlining, etc etc etc and what I had to do there was like...have a real talk with myself.

I have made a career out of my writing. That's not bullshit. That's not ego. That's literally what every single person who has set out on this path dreams of doing, and I did that shit. So maybe, just maybe, I need to worry less about somebody who hasn't accomplished shit has to say about their process, and take my OWN process a little more seriously.

I was talking to my mom about it, and I told her i came to a conclusion after my little sit down with myself. I will throw myself at this the same way I have done everything else and trust myself. One of two things will happen. I will either be humbled and have to refine my craft and learn the hard way. Or I will succeed.

The same exact results of any other thing ever. So maybe just shut up and do the damn thing and start going!

My process is basically the same, but with some specific guardrails and planning. I get to layer things a bit deeper, I'm thinking about inner and outer motivations wayyyyyy ahead of time, reasons for things happening that extend beyond the text so it feels natural and logical. I think about character arcs well ahead of time and have a vague vibe path in my mind rather than an entire outline.

It's similar to what I'm doing with Evalas. I am planning and creating under the assumption of success. When I was making BitterSweet, Shattered, Lost & Found......it was sorta like living week to week. I got some ideas but this shit could tank and I'll have to pivot away from it. But now I have the confidence to create with a bigger, broader, longer term plan because I have a proven track record of success.

I'm doing a lot of learning on the job, but I think being an outsider in terms of my approach and way of doing things is what works best for me. I'm not an avid reader. I am not educated. I am not sitting on a stack of notes and doing a ton of world building etc etc etc.

It was similar with the audio stuff. I didn't know there was a whole community, didn't know what GWA was, didn't know there was a whole slew of creators on YouTube, and so on.

So reminding myself that I'm that fucking guy and I should act accordingly has really helped me. I don't love showing that outwardly all the time because I'm sure it can look some type of way to folks, but people who know about the journey and the story understand that it's earned. And I've always tried to use that confidence to inspire others, instead of jerking myself off or flexing. I was literally at ground zero, and it was a genuine love of creating neat stuff that got me up outta there.

So I gotta focus on what I do that works, and what makes me and my efforts tick. Not what everyone else has done, or the "right" way, or whatever else. If the words get onto paper, and I maintain the same charm and cheek that YuuriVoice characters bring with them, then I've succeeded.

Thank you for joining me on the ride!

[all444glo]

BIOLOGY 101

warnings: scientific experimentation (dissection of a frog Imao), slight language i guess

summary: Four hour labs are difficult enough, your major has been putting you through the ringer and you're only on your second science class! Not to mention the only thing your lab partner can contribute is fake basketball moves on the air...

You blew out a frustrated breath, watching your goggles fog up for like the third time. It was freezing in the lab, and your patience was wearing thin. You wiped the lenses on your hoodie sleeve, sighing as you glanced around. Everyone else was locked in—scalpels moving, organs getting bagged, lab sheets half-filled. Meanwhile, your group was... just you. Alone. Again.

You looked over at the empty seat next to you, shaking your head. Jared was nowhere to be found. As usual. Always late, always showing up when everything’s already done—or worse, showing up just to be a distraction. You’d asked your professor to switch groups at least three times, even offered to work solo permanently. But every time, they hit you with that same line:“You show the most growth when challenged.”

Whatever that meant. All it did was piss you off.

You looked down at the frog on your tray. Cold, limp, and smelling like chemicals and sadness. The gloves didn’t block out the texture—it still felt like holding raw meat. You cringed, holding it down and lining up your scalpel.

“Okay... just a straight line,” you whispered to yourself, heart beating faster than it should’ve. You started slicing, trying to ignore how slick and squishy it felt under your hand.

You were halfway through pulling out the organs when you felt something warm behind you. A breath. Way too close.

“Whatcha doin’?” a voice whispered right at your ear.

You jumped and spun around slightly, heart damn near leaping out of your chest.

“Don’t do that shit! What the fuck!?”

It was Jared. Grinning like he hadn’t just scared the life out of you. His curls were messy, and he had that sweaty athlete smell mixed with cheap cologne. He was in full gym fit, sleeves pushed up, looking like he hadn’t been in class all day.

“I just got back from practice,” he said, dropping into the seat like he owned it. “Didn’t think I missed much.”

You gave him a blank look. “You missed the entire first half of the lab.”

He just smiled and shrugged. “I’m here now. I’ll just watch you do your thing.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to the frog, trying to focus. You lined up for the second incision when Jared leaned over again.

“Wait, wait—hold up,” he said, whisper-yelling like it was a life-or-death situation. “You’re about to cut too deep. You only need to cut through the second layer.”

You paused and stared at him. “You barely show up, but now you got tips?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Just ‘cause I don’t show up don’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You scoffed. “Oh, so now you’re a frog expert.”

Without saying anything else, he picked up a scalpel and made a nearly perfect cut. Clean, precise, no hesitation. Then he started removing the limbs and putting them in the correct storage bins like it was second nature.

You blinked. “...You’ve done this before?”

He gave you a smug look. “Maybe I paid attention the first week. Maybe I’m just that good.”

You looked him up and down. “Or maybe you finally decided to be useful.”

He laughed. “Wow. So much appreciation. No ‘thank you, Jared’? No ‘you saved my grade’?”

“Boy, please I should be hearing the exact same thing from you every time we have this lab”

He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head like he was proud of himself. “I’m just sayin’... who doesn’t know how to cut a frog?”

“You’d be surprised.”

You tried to hide the small smile creeping onto your face, but he caught it instantly.

“Oh, look at this,” he said, grinning. “My lab partner has dimples? Since when?”

“Don’t get it confused. It’s a one-time thing.”

“Nah. I’m taking that win. I got you to laugh.”

“You didn’t get me to laugh. I just laughed at you.”

“Same difference.”

You shook your head, slightly amused. Not that you’d admit it out loud. Jared had that annoying charm—like he wasn’t even trying, but somehow always got under your skin.

He nudged you with his elbow. “You know, maybe if you let me do more, the work load would be easier.”

You paused.

In hindsight, you had been the one telling him not to come. Or not to worry about helping. Or straight up ignoring his texts. Mostly because you didn’t trust him to take things seriously, but that was probably on you too.

“You still always late though,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“I got practice, Y/N. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, well, grades still matter.”

“Not when you tryna go pro like me.”

You stared at him, mouth half open, trying to process the confidence. Then you started laughing. Loud. People from the next table looked over.

“Ain’t no way you just said that with your whole chest,” you said, wiping your eyes. “Boy, be soooo for real. like, put the fries in the bag.”

He laughed too, tossing his gloves on the table. “I’m so serious. When I make it to the NBA, don’t act like you know me.”

“I don’t even got your number saved, I barely know you now—”

He gasped. “That’s foul.”

“You always textin’ me ‘yo’ or sending a damn emoji. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“That’s communication!” he said, laughing.

“That’s foolishness.”

He shook his head. “Alright, bet. Save my number now. Matter of fact, use it. Text me sometime.”

“For what?”

He leaned in a little, voice dropping low again. “So we can kick it. Go get food. Study. Hang out… maybe more.”

You gave him a look, pretending to be confused. “Still not sure what you mean.”

He smirked, brushing his fingers against your arm like he was testing the waters. “I’m sayin’... I want you, Y/N. Like, for real.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Ohhh. That’s crazy, you got time for all that Mr.Nba Player?”

“For you Y/N of course I do”

[froggerland]

For the cold boys ask please tell me how you feel about Ned Little ❤️❤️❤️ Thank You!

THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!!

I am so normal about him you can't imagine how normal I am about that man.

Anyways:

First Impression: I think almost everyone has the same experience with this one: when you first watch the show you don't really register him for the first five episodes or so and then you either love him or are very much neutral about him. I vaguely remember the scene where he's standing next to Jopson looking like a kicked dog while Crozier yells at him and I think that's when I took note of him like "ohh poor boy let me give you a hug :(" I really fell for him in the second half of the season (first mainly bc hes pretty. Im a simple woman sometimes and im not afraid to admit it) and I cannot stress this enough how much the last scene where Crozier finds him half frozen with the chains on his face has altered my brain chemistry. That was the fr the point where I was like "okay so I'll never be normal again EVER huh"

Impression Now: I love him. I love him so so much on so many layers. For one I need him biblically bc I believe I can fix his ass and his sad energy and big cow eyes have bewitched me body and soul. Matthew McNulty was born to sport mutton chops and look increasingly disheveled while on a death march in the canadian arctic. But I can't put into words how much I relate to him. I am him, he is me. Genuinely if I was put on that stupid expedition in his place I would've made all the same (bad) decisions. I can literally name two other characters in media I relate to and those are Kat from Euphoria (only the first season version and I think if I watched the show now I would throw her off this list) and Connel from Normal People (him just,, big time). They just don't make characters that messy, pathetic and sad very often!! Or I'm not watching enough tv to find them but when I saw Ned throughout the season I was like "wow I relate to him so much and idk what that says about me". I feel like I went on a tangent there but I love him he is such a dear. He tried so so hard to do right and keep things under control bc he hates chaos but he was just so overwhelmed and had to deal with Croziers shit for way too long (I'm trying to sound smart rn bc people have very nuanced but sometimes also kinda weird takes on his character. Believe me I see him as more than sad wet puppy man but I don't have the words in the english language to express that)

Favorite Moment: Any scene he's in ever? Duh?? No but if I had to pick one I'd say the dundy intervention when he finally tries to put a foot down to rescue Crozier but they all just dismiss him. The way his eyes water. I. Mmh. I think I'm obligated to name his last scene as well bc that one makes me cry everytime even if I just see a gif of it, it's just so haunting and so so sad

Idea For A Story: Oh. Uhmmmmm. I'm really not a writer so I can't come up with anything cool on top of my head except let Ned be happy and comfy and warm. Tuck him into bed and give him soup. That's all

Unpopular Opinion: I can't really tell what's an unpopular opinion bc I've seen basically every take ever on him from "he is a pushover how did he even get his job" to "he's actually a meanie with big time anger issues" so. Maybe that I think he would've been a good lieutenant with a different captain on a more chill cruise. He'd do very well keeping order and the respect of the crew if he didn't have to be the doormat and errands boy for his alcoholic captain while starving in the arctic. I'd dare say 99.9% of life on a ship was more chill than the franklin expedition so maybe he wasn't the best lieutenant ever but he would've done a good job if the stakes weren't THAT high

Favorite Relationship: Started as a Joplittle stan, became a Sojoplittle truther and now my favorite is Solittle. I love my two dog boys, I love how they parallel each other (they were narrative foils your honor). But honestly anything goes, everyone deserves a bite out of nedward <3

Favorite Headcanon: That animals love him. Saw that on my feed a few days ago and yeah, agreed. He's definitely a cat person and they just flock towards him (extended hc that jirv loves animals so so much but they just hate him for some reason. So when the ships cat sneaks in during meetings jirv tries to get her to come towards him but the cat's like "ew no church boy" and jumps into Ned's lap who pets her but also prays he won't get yelled at by Crozier for this)

[hwasdvlly]

Happy Hollow-ween | c.san

↠ summary: a classic yet fun activity for the season is to carve a pumpkin.

↠ pairing: san x fem!reader

↠ genres: family, fluff, and slice of life

↠ word count: 0.6k words

↠ warnings/tags: none. established relationship, idol!san, non-idol!reader, married couple, sannie is husband/father material

↠ a/n: yesss!! another of the choi family which is personally one of my fav writings

“Appa! I want this one!”

“Isn’t that a bit huge? It’s bigger than your head, Mimi.”

The beloved Choi Family are at the pumpkin patch, where they’ll find the perfect ones to carve. It’s the autumn season, too. The weather has cooled down, and everyone dressed in cozy outfits. 

San picks up a pumpkin that his baby is pointing at. He grunts and uses his strength from those gym workouts because it is heavy. “Y/N! What do you think?!” He calls over his wife, who is busy taking pictures of the lovely area. You turn your attention to your husband and see him struggling with the object. You let a giggle, “It’s almost the same size as The Great Pumpkin from Charlie Brown.” You walk up to the love of your life and your little angel. You assumed it was Sangmi’s choice. 

“Okay, I guess we’re taking it.” San tries to look strong, but, for real, his arms are about to break. You know your hubby by heart that he’ll act differently to impress you and Sangmi. 

“Do you need help, Sannie?” You snickered. San didn’t hesitate to deny it. “Nope! Nope! I got this!” The man waddles his way to the parking lot. Sangmi holds your hand. “Appa looks funny.” She laughs at her penguin dad. “You know how appa is, aegi (baby).” You tell your little girl. San will do anything for his angel. 

Once they arrived home, the Choi Family layered old newspapers on the balcony. San and Sangmi are wearing matching Halloween shirts and plaid sweats. You came out of the kitchen after unboxing the utensils to check on your family. 

“Gotta scrape all of the guts out. Like how you pick your nose.” San makes an absurd comparison. 

“Ew! Appa! I don’t pick my nose.” Sangmi rebutted and giggled heartily. 

The man smirks, “Oh, you don’t? Then what’s this?” He reaches over to tap Sangmi’s button nose. She continues to laugh her head off. You melted by the sound of her angelic voice. Maybe she will become a singer like her dad. You joined the duo by helping them scrape the pumpkin guys. 

San sighed tiredly, “Why did she choose this one? It’s going to take ages to carve.” He spoke in a low voice to prevent Sangmi from hearing his complaint. You replied, “Well, you did make a promise to her the moment she was born.” You looked at him with a knowing look. “Promises can’t be broken, I guess.” San meets your gaze, and he shows his cute pout. 

No matter what age or how long you’ve known this man, he is forever a sulky child. 

“Alright! We are done!” San cheers because it did take ages. 

You went to sit with Sangmi and wipe her messy hands clean. “How do you want to carve the pumpkin, Mimi?” You asked. 

“Can we do Kuromi?” She looks at her parents with the prettiest cat-like eyes. How can anyone say no to that? 

San nods his head with a wide smile. “Yes! I like that idea.” He agrees with his daughter. 

When it comes to arts & crafts, San will do it as if it’s a major task. Even though Sangmi wouldn’t mind if it came out ugly, her appa doesn’t accept imperfections. 

The hours went by, and the day was now night. 

You grabbed a small candle to light up. “Here, sweetheart. Our masterpiece won’t be complete without this.” You handed it to Sangmi. She holds the candle and uses her tiny arms to reach inside the top of the carved pumpkin. She places it in the middle before San grabs the lighter.

“Watch baby. This is a magical moment.” He turns it on, and the flame burns the wick. 

Sangmi’s face brightens like the Kuromi pumpkin. “It’s pretty!” She claps her hands. 

San shifts his body to the masterpiece in front of him. “Appa did good, right?” He gives you and Sangmi a smug expression.

You rolled your eyes yet smiled at your self-righteous husband. Sangmi just happily nodded to indicate that her appa did a beautiful job. 

[ichabodcranemills]

I love your tags on that post about how Helly and Helena handle Mark btw like??? Yeah what Helena did to Mark and Helly was awful, but I don't think she did it because she wanted to take something or manipulate him like I see too many people saying. I honestly wonder what outie Mark will think of it when he finds out, because he's always thought of innie Mark as just himself, not separate, to the point of reintegrating because he feels entitled to his innie's memories to get Gemma back. I mean since he's reintegrated I'm sure how innie Mark felt will partially cloud it, but really how Helena and outie Mark view their innies as subhuman/just a part of themselves is SO similar. Outie Mark just isn't telling innie Mark what he thinks of him the way Helena has told Helly.

Thank you, anon! I think I was really rambly over there, but it's good to know that what I tried to say made sense. The fact that she wasn't intentionally fucking with Mark and Helly doesn't mean that what she did was okay, but also not just because she did something bad that she is some sort of irredeemable villain. The discussion of consent in this show is way more complex than this sort of simplistic take, and Helena is a WAY more complex character than that also.

And I 100% agree with you, Mark might not have spoken with Mark S as horribly as Helena did with Helly, but he also doesn't take his innie's feelings into consideration as if Mark S was a person. He sees him as a tool. If he was in the same position as Helena (bound to the company) and Mark S had forced his hand as Helly did Helena's, he might as well have reacted the exact same way. And that's what makes this show, and this pair, so fascinating. There are no simple answers to anything.

I'm also very curious to see how this will all evolve. I think reintegrated Mark will feel violated and deceived by Helena also, however we already know he is attracted to her on the outside. There will probably be antagonizing moments between them, but I think this is a relationship that has the potential to evolve in very interesting ways, the more their innies and outies get similar to one another (I, for one, believe that Helena will also reintegrate, and it'll be very messy and juicy). But like, I don't think Mark will see Helena the way parts of the fandom do. I think he understands that there are layers to it.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

hello! i have a request for 'SbITILYP', if you don't mind. how about the reader trying to do something for hiccup to impress him/show him that she likes him? hiccup has been doing a lot of things for the reader so I think it'd be cute seeing the reader awkwardly attempt to do the same :)

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 28

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 1110

Things come to a simple end.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, final part, half-fill

<Previous - First>

“I’m surprised it went this smooth,” Stoick grumbled, voice hollow with distance, “With Alvin-... I’d expect something from Hiccup, at least. That boy…”

“He’s ‘Too busy, eh?” Gobber asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, grunting and hopping as he did it, reattaching his prosthetic to his leg nub, “Prolly been off mackin’ on tha’ girlfriend o’ his.”

Right… Alvin.

“Ah,” Hiccup was flushed, rubbing his neck and brushing against already messy hair, “Yeah, I forgot about that…”

Toothless was around somewhere.

He glanced to the side, where you stood, equally embarrassed and mussed, shoulders hunched slightly, very red in the face.

You shifted in your skirts, resisting the urge to use your boot to scratch at the back of your thigh, which had been itchy for a little while, since you brushed up against some plant walking back from the forest.

You were just around the corner from Hiccup’s Dad -a bright and heavily painted corner; turns out his whole ‘painting the houses’ thing caught on, which meant a lot less of things burning down- though he wasn’t sure if you’d heard.

All the talk of criminal executions was depressing, though you missed it, lost in the puppy-love haze phase of your new relationship. Still, it was kind of a bummer. It was for the best that Alvin was gone, though. Less danger in that for you too -not just the riders or Stoick or anything else.

You hoped it didn’t bum Hiccup out too bad. You noticed it had been getting him down, and you’d done your best.

Your fingers curled together, hooked securely and delicately to his by the fingerpads, and you and Hiccup stood close enough that you could feel his body heat through his tunic though not yet enough for the two of you to be touching by the arm.

You’d just gotten back from a successful trip to the glowing algae pool.

His vest was slightly displaced and you were both sure he’d lost a bead or two.

In one hand you held the little Fireworm, wrapped in a carefully made chainmail blanket -it was hard to come up with something that wouldn’t pinch skin or scales- also wrapped in a layer of leather so that you could hold it comfortably. 

It squirmed slightly. 

He scuffed his prosthetic slightly, recently oiled, recently reforged with treads beaten into the bottom, which did a lot to help with gripping wet wood while you were walking hand-in-hand around Berk.

You wore a red tunic -his, really, he’d lent it to you again after you’d gotten some muck on yours- and a string of your own beads on leather cord tied around your neck, something Hiccup had picked nonchalantly from the forge and used to help make you a necklace. 

He’d tried to make you a bead once, but he wasn’t much of an artisan. 

“I mean, me too,” You huffed, feather swaying as you shifted, attached to a stick like a pom-pom on one end of a cat toy, “We’ve been busy with other things, though- Not like what Gobber said- I mean, you know…”

Hiccup nodded, though he was still looking forward. This was all still super new for the both of you.

 It would feel that way for a while.

You were still in disbelief- it was a wonder to you why he and Astrid didn’t pair up before. 

He traced the collar of his scarf slightly as Sharpshot lolled lazily by your feet, slightly wet and glow-ey by his lower half whenever he teased the shade with his tail. 

You knew Hiccup was bummed Devastated that the Screaming Death had destroyed all his hard work -a good deal of the things he’d built up in the village for you, though with some hard work and dirt pushed under your fingernails it had been fixed up pretty easy.

He seemed happier now. It hadn’t really been something you’d planned but you’d distracted him somewhat- your relationship was still very, very new, still.

And you made him a gift.

You’d tried crafting again. It was very scratchy and you’d definitely not done a very good job making sure the whole thing was even but it was a nice fading rainbow, the yarn dyed in all the colors in Roy G. Biv in darker, neutral tones.

“Looks like you fixed things right up, ‘Dragon Master,’” You stuck out your tongue at him, looking smug.

It -the scarf- covered the bottom of Hiccup’s chin. It didn’t really fit him but he wore it with pride, which made something flutter around in your guts in a way that was almost uncomfortable.

You predicted it would be around a week before he took it off.

Hiccup had unintentionally returned the favor. You got a satchel from him, small and attached to a belt with norse knots imprinted around the edges, sown neatly together. It was sort of like a fanny pack but with more buckles and also cool.

“Did you really have to use that?” Hiccup said, leaning his head towards you momentarily.

Sharpshot churr-ed in the squawky squeaky way only a terror could, blinking up at the feather attached to your hip as you adjusted your hand in Hiccup’s.

The small Fireworm in your other hand blinked beadily as it sometimes very rarely did.

“It is tacky,” You admitted, though that was definitely why you used it, “But you did a good enough job to deserve it, not that you have to do anything to deserve things.”

You gently bumped into him with your hip.

And he did a great job. Berk was back to how it was just before the Screaming Death -most of the roses ended up being fine, and the plants that were lost were easily replaced and reinforced by spiked metal fences and wooden pikes.

You’d also added a few new planters. Many of the houses stationed under ramps were popular real estate now for metal tins for glowing mushroom growing, which you knew there many new homeowners were proud of, not just because of the fact that it made them a lot of money.

The mushrooms were great for paint making and the extra roofing kept dragons from jumping over houses and messing with tiling.

It was heavy maintenance, but they were all Vikings. For a modern girl like you, you found it was all worth it, if not just for the convenience.

Living on Berk was rough, but it was good and different now. Even with all the Outcasts and the dragons and the hunters and everything else missing.

And you were happy. 

And maybe Hiccup’s crush hadn’t ended up being so onesided after all.

[avo-gal]

Varigo villian au lore (pt2?? Ig?)

Soz this took longer than expected lol.

So originally I had two ways for varigo to meet but this is the one I ended up liking more.

Varian

In this au when Rapunzel frees Quirin that was sort of Varian's breaking point bc Quirin didn't survive the Amber. Quirin possibly being alive and things going back to normal was the only hope Varian had left without that he.. lost it to keep it short. Andrew tries to work his way back in and Varian practically freaks out and kills him. Whether it was intentional or not he's still not sure. But a part of him that sick twisted part enjoyed it. So now his mission is to kill all those that cross him and in doing so rise to power. Varian in this au is (for lack of a better word) very insane. He's kinda similar to jinx from arcane? Except less childish. He's like a mix between Jinx and Silco personality wise.

Hugo

Hugo meanwhile is still a thief. He finds the abandoned village of old Corona and decides to raid one of the few remaining houses for any goods. That house was old and messy. The rooms were filled with blueprints, designs, lab equipment, tools, metal, etc. Hugo is fascinated with these designs and is a good engineer. that's when a raven haired boy sees him and initially freaked out and is about to kill him (which he's kinda into cause like damn). But Hugo is able to schmooze his way out of that with a good ol "I hate the rich. You hate the rich. We should kiss- I MEAN build these robots and weapons and take over the kingdom together!" Over the course of about a year (more or less) Varian and Hugo build everything and take over (it actually wasn't too hard). Hugo in this au isn't too different from his regular self. He's more energetic however and isn't afraid to get gorey. He is def a masochist in this au lol. Whilst Varian does constantly give him opportunities to have the same level of power as him Hugo never takes it. One reason is he does want the responsibility another may be that he likes being below Varian.

Varigo

Over all Varigo have a sort of situationship? They'll refer to the other as their partner, boyfriend, fiance, etc. But their relationship is very toxic. I wouldn't say manipulative exactly more power hungry? Or fear fueled? They do care very deeply abt the other (since they are the only ones that care abt the other) and if U hurt one of them the other wouldn't hesitate to kill you. But they often threaten each other physically and emotionally (and not always in a playful way). Hugo on the outside seems like he's only in the relationship for the money and sex and Varian seems like he's only in it for reassurance and weaponry. But they both have common interests and are almost unstoppable when they work as a team. There are a lot of layers to both of them the closest couples I can think of to reference them to is stolitz more so in the earlier seasons and maybe Harley Quinn and the Joker? I'm not very good at explaining their relationship but they are very fun to write lol.

Donella

I haven't given Donella much thought in this au. I think after finding out Hugo has taken over Corona with Varian she tries working with them offering her men and resources.

TTS Cast (may change)

Rapunzel, Cass, Eugene and the others have a sort of rebellion in the snuggly duckling. I haven't thought too much magic hair wise but I think Raps has lost her powers by now so they have a very low chance of winning. The current state of this au is abt a year after Vat7k would have happened.

Someone asked on the last post if I plan on writing a fic for this au.

The answer is not currently no. If I did write a fic for this I would want to have more planned out and there's alot in this au I'm still not sure abt. If it got enough attention or if someone also wanted to write a fic I might do a couple's one shots just to sort of show the characters and how they act in this au. But for now I'm prob just gonna stick with occasionally posting abt it. As I said if it gets enough attention or if I come up with more for the au then I might do something big or post more often abt it.

Okay byeee U guys are amazing make sure U eat today <33

🥗🍟🍕🧁