#well I don’t need to be that sorry. I did sketch two comics and write a novella. high horse forever

[obstinaterixatrix]

I still gotta remake a rec post for sherbet since it got licensed… I’ve been slacking on yuri duty and getting back into my fave m/m rarepair. I’m Sorry Women

[redinkofshame]

JSYK just because I don't write it/post it, doesn't mean my thoughts aren't still filled with Solavellan smut on the daily. So when I saw this perfectly innocent comic my thoughts... Wouldn't leave me alone. So here, smut be upon ye.

Keria Lavellan x Solas (in the head of) x purple!mRook

🍋 explicit

Two-and-a-Half-Some

“Nice tits, by the way.”

Rook had led Keria to one of the bedrooms in the Lighthouse to show her a sketchbook full of images of herself. Unlike the rooms they’d passed on their way up, full of sentimental knickknacks and evidence of camaraderie and constant use, this room was all but barren. Clean. Sparse.

Solas’ room.

It made her heart ache, to see how alone he’d been all this time.

She raised her eyebrow at the younger man, who flushed. His expression wasn’t flirtatious so much as ‘I can’t believe I said that out loud’.

“…Sorry.”

The poor kid. He’d clearly only been trying to make a joke to ease the tension of the moment when she’d flipped from a series of tasteful nudes to… Some positions that left little to the imagination.

At least he hadn’t commented on the appearance of her anus.

She shut the book. “Don’t be. They were pretty nice back then. His sketches are a bit outdated now, though. I’m not as young as I once was.”

Rook’s eyes went unfocused for a moment, and then he said, “He, uh, he says your hard-won wisdom only makes you all the more beautiful today.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She swallowed, heart thudding. “He always was a sweet talker. It’s true then. You can hear him?”

He nodded and pointed to his temple. “Yep. Whether I want to or not.”

“And he can hear what you hear, obviously. Does he see through your eyes?”

He nodded.

“Interesting…” She took a step closer to him and raised her hand suggestively to the toggles of her shirt, designed to be easy to use one-handed. “Would you like to see an updated version? For the sake of improving the accuracy of the sketches, of course.”

His eyes went wide. “You… Want to show me your tits?”

She smirked. “I want to show Solas my tits,” she clarified. “You getting to see them is just an enjoyable side-benefit.

As long as you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

“Who in their right mind would say no to seeing the Inquisitor’s tits?” he asked, and she almost laughed at his incredulous tone. Then he added, “He’s, uh, unusually quiet. He’s not going to, like, turn me into a statue for this or anything, right?”

“He was never the jealous type,” she assured him as she began unfastening her shirt. “What about you? Any partners that would have a problem with this?”

“No. Well, partner yes, but no, we’re, uh, open to…” He trailed off, watching her hand distractedly.

She finished with the last toggle, but pointedly didn’t remove her shirt yet, waiting for him to answer.

“We’re not the jealous types, either,” he said quickly once he caught on. Then he jerked his thumb towards the door to the rest of the lighthouse. “I could go get them?”

She did laugh at that, shrugging off her shirt at last. “I think two and a half is enough for now.”

He didn’t answer, focused on her exposed skin. She arched her back prettily and ran a hand over herself, teasing her own taut nipple.

“Wow. Definitely still great.”

Keria had never though of herself as beautiful — at least, not until she’d seen the way Solas looked at her when they made love — but she’d never been particularly self-conscious either. She was surprised that some small part of her preened at the younger man’s approval.

She closed the distance between them and gently took his hand and placed it on her breast. The warmth of it and the way it moved timidly over her had her flushing with sudden need. “And can he feel what you do?”

“Who? Oh, uh, no.” Growing bolder, he had both hands on her now, kneading her breasts, thumbing her nipples delightfully.

“That’s a shame.” She ran her hand over the bulge of his britches as she said it and his breath staggered. Then she pulled back. “Unsurprising, though.”

She started on the fasteners of her own pants and Rook watched, waiting for an indication of what came next, like an eager little puppy.

Once Keria was fully nude she did a slow spin, giving both men a fully view of her decade-older body.

“I can’t understand what he’s saying,” Rook told her. “It’s elvhen. I think it’s poetry.”

“Elvhen always sounds like poetry,�� she said said, affection tugging her lips and memories of him reciting beautiful words she didn’t understand while he held her against him.

She went to work on the laces of Rook’s pants, and got on her knees once his erection was freed.

Solas was always dedicated to her pleasure when they made love, rarely allowing her to do the same for him. He couldn’t stop her now, though. So she took her time and made as big a spectacle as she could, maintaining eye contact with this stranger whose head held the love of her life. She stayed focused on those eyes as she ran her tongue along Rook’s shaft, then twirled it around the head, as she took him deep, as she left long trails of saliva whenever she pulled back. Neither man said anything she could hear, though Rook’s groans were satisfying.

When she felt she’d teased enough, (and that Rook might not last much longer,) she pulled back and stood, swaying her hips artfully as she moved to the bed. She climbed on and mirrored one of the positions in the sketchbook, half-propped against the headboard with her knees spread wide.

He continued to stare after her as she stroke her slick core, displaying herself. She wasn't sure if his glazed look was from trying to hear Solas speak, or simple lust.

“Rook,” she said finally. “Take off your clothes and come here."

He jumped to it, almost tangling himself in an attempt to remove both his pants and shirt at the same time, half-tripping as he removed his socks while getting on the sheets. She used a hand on his jaw to guide him over her, in case he got confused about that, too.

He knelt between her legs and took his time admiring her, and she wondered if it was Solas that told him to run his hands up and down the insides of her thighs, to try gripping her hips and waists in different spots, to cup her breasts again. She whimpered with heat by the time Rook ran the head of his cock up and down her folds several times, wetting it before finally plunging into her.

She kept her eyes open and on him when normally she’d have closed them to enjoy the full feeling, the friction, the energetic thrusting his hips against hers. But though it felt odd to look so deep into a stranger’s eyes as he fucked her, she wanted Solas to see her.

Fortunately, the man spent most of his time watching his cock moving in and out of her and her fingers circling her clit, or her bouncing tits.

Then there was a flash, a flicker of blue spirit light, and suddenly his thrusts became pounding, movements becoming equal measures controlled and intense.

She gasped. “Solas?”

“Mah vhenan,” he breathed in the wrong voice, and then he was kissing, biting, sucking on her neck as he moved in her.

Her hand moved to his head but it was wrong, the hair was wrong, so she gripped his back instead and closed her eyes so she couldn’t see Rook anymore, just Solas, her Solas. She came almost immediately, the tension in her releasing with waves of pleasure rushing over her.

He rode her through her climax and then slowed, still, and kissed her. He hadn’t finished, still hard in her as he kissed her harder still. His tongue teased hers, plunging deep, like he couldn’t taste enough of her. She wrapped her arm around him as tight as she could, kissing him with a decade of frustration and longing.

When they pulled back for air she kept her eyes firmly closed, and perhaps he understood because he pulled out and she was suddenly moved, turned over so she was positioned on her knees. She arched her back exaggeratedly, still putting on a show for him. He ran his hands along her thighs, grabbed handfuls of her ass, ran fingers through her folds as he lined up his borrowed cock. He gripped her hips with both hands as he plunged into her, and she moaned his name, and, “I love you, I love you, ar lath ma.”

Whatever he said in breathless elvhen was lost on her as he pounded into her again and again, taking her like an animal. When she came a second time she finally felt his movements become less controlled, insistent and clumsy as he chased his own climax as last.

His movements slowed, stilled. She stopped propping herself up on her shaking arm and allowed herself to collapse on the mattress, and he came down with her.

“Are you still in there?” she panted.

“Yes, vhenan.” For some reason part of her was still surprised the voice was wrong. He rolled them onto their sides and she gripped his arms hard around her, unwilling to let go.

“How long do you have?”

“Not long.” He pressed feather-soft kisses against her shoulder. Then he sighed. “But I can’t leave before I tell you how sorry I am. For everything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, unwilling to waste this precious moments on his constant guilt. “Var lath vir suledin. I’m going to find a way to save you.” To free him from his prison in the Fade. To be together in this new world he’d made.

He kissed her shoulder again, and she thought it sounded like he was smiling when he replied, “I know.”

I know. Not ‘I know you will try’’. Just ‘I know’. He believed her.

“Solas…” she started, but she trailed off.

It didn’t feel like him anymore. Somehow, she knew he had gone.

“Rook?” she tried instead.

“Uh, yeah” he said as he awkwardly pulling his limp dick out of her. “I’m back.”

Keria bit back her disappointment to put on a satisfied smile as she turned to face him. He looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself. “Hey. You doing okay? That was… Unexpected. I didn’t know uncontrolled horniness could lead to a spontaneous possession.”

He laughed, and settled back comfortably. “Yeah, neither did either of us.”

She ran her hand along his chest. “Are you feeling okay about it? I just want to check because we didn’t discuss the option before hand.”

He nodded. “Definitely. I think… I think I could have stop it? The possession. It felt weird, kind of like a build up of pressure, but I think I could have stopped it.”

“Why didn’t you?” As a mage she'd been taught to protect herself against possession her whole life. She couldn’t imagine just letting it happen.

Rook shrugged. “I wanted to see what would happen.”

Her mouth was open, but she couldn’t think of a response to that. At last, she shook and said, “Varric said you’d be trouble.”

He grinned. Then, looking a little apologetic, he said, “I was ‘there’ the whole time, you know. Like, I could still, uh, feel everything.”

She made sure to smile comfortingly so he’d know she wasn’t upset by this. “Side benefits indeed.” She kissed him — Rook, not Solas. He deserved to feel wanted, too. “Thanks for the tour of the lighthouse. Glad to be part of the team.”

[xxchaosjojoxx]

A gift for you - White's day (penguin x reader)

A/N: second part is up. Hope you will like it. Dunno when I can find the time to write my other ideas. But I will try to do them within the next week.

It was March 13th. One month ago you gave Penguin such a thoughtful and sweet gift for valentines day. The relationship between you didn’t change much. You two were still hanging out, joking around. The only difference is, you two were shy and blushing when you guys were alone. Penguin groaned while throwing his pillows and blankets all over the floor.

“Dude, what’s wrong?” Shachi asked while reading the comic in his hand.

“Every idea in my mind is not good enough for y/n.”

Shachi sighed before standing beside Penguin and watching his sketch ideas.

“Maybe you could do this one.” He pointed at one sketch.

This was Penguin’s favorite one as well. “I tried to do a small version of this, but it wasn’t perfect enough. Did you buy something from the store back there as well?” He asked but his best friend shook his head. “Nope. Ikkaku, Bepo and I wanna bake some cookies for her in an hour. Just join us. Maybe we can help you with your special gift for you lovely y/n.”

Penguin’s face was red. “She gave me something special as well. Plus I would do it for anybody… I guess.” He mumbled.

Shachi was laughing. "Come on dude. You have a crush on her and it’s ok. Y/N is a good match for you. So what are you two right now? Friends with benefits? Lover?”

Penguin was smacking his head with another pillow. “We are friends. Nothing more.”

“But you wouldn’t mind being something more right?”

The blushing man was hiding under his hat and was dead silent.

“Ok ok sorry for that man. I mean you two are so obvious it’s hilarious.”

He sighed. “She’s not interested in me.”

“DUDE! Are you dumb?” Pen stood up. “I dunno. Maybe she is interested. Maybe she just wants to be nice. Anyway I don’t want your help, sorry Shachi. I have to do this alone.

Shachi was punching his shoulders lightly. “Cheer up, Pen. If you need help, you know where to find us.”

After dinner, Penguin was still in the kitchen trying to make this as perfect as he could. Law was standing behind him. “Penguin, they all look good. Come on now.” Law was annoyed. “Why do I even agree to sit here for hours just to watch you working in the kitchen?”

Penguin looked at his captain with a sheepy smile. “You are a perfectionist. So your opinion is very dear to me. Just tell me how to make the perfect chocolate please.”

Law was furrowing his brows while groaning. “Like I said earlier. They are all good.”

“Good isn’t perfect, Captain.”

Law was pointing at one of those different shaped chocolates. “Here. This is the most beautiful and perfect thing in the world….happy?”

Penguin ignored the sarcastic tone in his voice as he held the piece in his hands with a smile on his face. “Then this will be it. Say captain, did you manage to organize the other stuff for me, perhaps?” Captain Law nodded. “Yeah I just deposited it in your quarter a while ago.” Law was friendly, patting my shoulder with a rare smile on his face. “I’m sure y/n will love it. Go get her but don’t make out.”

A giant blush creeping on Penguin’s cheek. “C-Captain what are you implying…?”

Law smirked at him. “At least wait for it after your duties and in private.” And with that he left the kitchen, leaving his blushing crewmate alone in the kitchen.

After your sleep you looked at your calendar with a wide smile on your lips. March 14th. You wonder if you will receive one or two gifts as well. With new energy you dress yourself up. Today you guys had a day off to explore the island you docked on yesterday. So decide to wear a simple but yet pretty outfit.

The smile never leaves your smile as you wander around the polar tang.

Suddenly you felt a big hug. Ikkaku was hugging you. “My dear y/n. I hope you will enjoy this white’s day.” She was grinning and holding a bag with cookies in it for you to take it.

“Oh Ikkaku you didn’t have to do this.” You smiled and felt happy tears forming in your eyes. “Don’t cry dear. Not even happy tears, ok? So how about a little treasure hunt today?”

Ikkaku asked and you tilted your head. “O…k?” You asked confused but nodded.

“Nice so here take this. The treasure awaits you at the end of the ship.” She said and gave you a white rose. “Something white for white’s day.”

You continued your way through the polar tang. You met Bepo and Shachi who were giving you a big hug while giving you some cookies and two white roses as well.

“Thank you guys. Did you see the rest? It’s so quiet.” You asked and Shachi opened his mouth. “This is a treasure hunt y/n. You have to be patient.”

“Wait everyone is involved?” You asked and Bepo hugged you again. “We were sorry y/n. But we hope you will like it.” After 10 more minutes of hugging your two crewmates you decide to go further. You met your other teammates, receiving chocolates and a white rose. Some of them hugged you, some of them just showed you a smile.

On the deck you saw Captain Law talking to Jean Bart. As you closed the door they turned towards you. Both of them hand you a white rose as well. “Room. Shambles.”

Law suddenly said and all of your bags of chocolates and cookies were gone.

“They are in your room. Don’t worry. We have a flower vase for you downstairs.” Law was giving you a rare smile while patting your head. “Have a lot of fun today, y/n.”

Jean Bart said, grinning at you. Both of them looked at you with a happy look while you searched the deck.

“If you are looking for Penguin. He isn’t on the Polar Tang.” Jean Bart said and was pointing at the dock. With a quick “Thank you” you left the Polar Tang. On the Dock was a big box with a ribbon and the nametag “Y/N” on it. The vase was next to it so you placed all the white roses you received in it, while taking the box in your hand and opening it.

You were surprised and speechless.

In the box was white chocolate. But no ordinary chocolate. It was shaped as two penguins holding hands while walking on a heart. Underneath the chocolate was a hat and as you took it out you got a closer look on it.

It was identical to Penguin’s signature hat. It even had a penguin on top as well. The only difference was, there was no name on it. You had tears forming in your eyes. You didn’t even think that you would receive such a meaningful gift at all.

“I wasn’t sure if you want a matching hat with your name on it.” You turned around as you heard Pen’s voice. He was standing with casual pants and his black tank top in front of you, smiling. God how you loved this smile of his.

“Are you kidding me? I LOVE IT!” You shouted and sat the hat on top of your head proudly. “We can write penguin 2 on it…oh or maybe Penguin girl” You exclaimed happily and didn’t see that Penguin was blushing.

He stepped a few steps towards you, a heavy blush covering his face. “We can do it if you want. Say..” he said and you looked into his eyes. It was hard to find his eyes with that hat on. He cleared his throat. “Say, did you give me the special chocolate out of pity because of the punishment?”

You held his hand and were beaming at him. “NO I did it because you always helped me, since I joined the crew and because..I kinda like you.” You said while you barely whispered the last part. “What about you? You organized this treasure hunt and these amazing gifts out of pity for the new girl?”

He shook his head frantically. “Well I kinda like you too and ehmm… maybe we can ehh hang out..today? If you are free and have some time to spare?” He asked you nervously while stumbling over his words.

You grinned. “Like a date?”

He nodded. “YES!” He shouted but quickly lowered his voice. “I mean no. I mean uhm whatever you prefer.”

Penguin was so nervous and cute so you decided to be bold and give him a quick peck on the lips to seal the deal. “Then it’s a date.”

[lokiarc64]

Jaune arc New Shield and New Skills (hint of Jaune Harem) headcannon

Jaune during a weapon’s specialist lessons Professor Port tasked Jaune with an Objective to create a new and improvement to his weapon that is unexpected and to use it with a new set of skills, after returning to his dorm that night he then decided to read some of his comic books, after reading some comic he then sees a familiar superhero in there with a Large round Shield and was able to throw and fight with this shield, he was even able to throw it and it would hit his targets and come back to him no problem.

Then then finally had an idea and inspiration for his project, he managed to call a friend of his dads to send over some strong and special metal to help out his project.

During the night his team and team RWBY have been seeing Jaune sneak out with some boxes to the blacksmiths class and spot him all hot and sweaty shirtless working on a project and drooling at the sight of him.

The next three days passed and his project was complete and Jaune was now ready to show off his new Project to Professor and show off his new Shield

“Professor Port’s Classroom”

Port: Amazing job today everybody, your improved weapons shall help you greatly in the future.

Port: I suggest you practice with them when you have the time.

Port: Class Dismissed!

“Students start to leave“

Port: Mr Arc, I would like a word with you.

Jaune: Okay?

“Empty Classroom”

Jaune: So uh what did you want to talk about?

Port: It’s about your progress in this class.

Port: Your skills are mediocre, yet your improving at steady and passable pace.

Jaune: So what’s the problem?

Port: The problem is your weapon, in all of my lectures and you have done nothing to improve your weapon whatsoever.

Jaune: Well I can’t do much with it, it’s an old school kind of weapon, I can’t exactly turn my sword into a gun.

Jaune: I’m much of a weapons person compared to Ruby.

Port: True, Miss Rose’s interest and creativity do outclass you, but you shouldn’t sell yourself out short.

Jaune: How can I not, I can’t even use dust like the rest of the students here.

Port: Indeed you can’t but even the greatest weapons don’t require dust to make them lethal.

Jaune: …

Port: Mr. Arc I’m giving you one weeks tops, if you do not have any type of modification for your weapon, I’m afraid I will have to fail you.

Jaune: “Sigh”

Jaune: I understand thank you.

Jaune: “Leaves Classroom”

“Team JNPR’s Dorm”

Jaune: “Lays in bed”

Jaune: What do I do now?

Jaune: “Looks at Crocea Mors”

Jaune: I need to get my mind off this.

Jaune: “Pulls out cardboard box stashed with comic books”

Jaune: Hmm don’t think I’ve ready this one before.

Jaune: “Pulls out comic of a captain with a shield“

Jaune: Man if only my shield could do that.

Jaune: 💡

”The Next Day”

Ruby: Hey Pyrrha can I borrow some notes for professor Oobleck’s class?

Pyrrha: Of course Ruby, they should be on the desk.

Ruby: “Grabs notes from desk”

Ruby: “Notices Sketches“

Ruby: Hey, what are these?

Pyrrha: Oh those, those are some ideas Jaune’s been working for his shield.

Ruby: He’s making modifications for Crocea Mors, and he didn’t tell me.

Pyrrha: Well this is somewhat of a personal project for him, Professor Port agave him a lecture about it earlier.

Ruby: “Pouting”

Jaune: “Enter Room”

Jaune: Uh Huh, good, cool thanks dad, bye.

Jaune: “Hangs Up”

Jaune: Alright I got what I need for my project.

Ruby: Jaune how could you upgrade Crocea Mors without telling me, I thought we were besties?

Jaune: What, who told you?

Ruby: “Points to Pyrrha”

Jaune: “Stares at Pyrrha”

Pyrrha: I’m Sorry.

“Two Days Later”

“Cafeteria“

Jaune: “Writing in notebook”

Yang: What’s Vomit Boy doing?

Blake: Looks like he’s studying for something big.

Ruby (Mad): He’s going to improve Crocea Mors

Yang: About time he hasn’t really done anything to change since we arrived at Beacon.

Blake: That’s good and all but why do you sound angry?

Ruby: I’m not angry, I’m not mad at Jaune at all for not letting me help him make his weapon cooler.

Yang: “Snickers”

Weiss: Of course you would get mad over something childish like that.

“Two Days Later”

“Midnight”

“Loud metal sounds“

Yang: What the hell was that?

Weiss: It’s the middle of the night!

Blake: “Stretches”

Ruby: “Yawns”

Team RWBY: “Exits Dorm”

Team RWBY: “Notices Team NPR”

Ruby: What are you guys doing?

Pyrrha: Sssssshhh

Nora (Whispering): Fearless Leader brought something.

Ren: “Points to Jaune”

Jaune: “Carrying large crate”

Teams RWBY & NPR: “Follow Jaune”

Jaune: “Walks into blacksmith’s classroom”

Jaune: Finally this took forever.

Jaune: “Pulls out mysterious metal from crate”

Ruby: What is that?

Ren: It looks like a type of metal.

Pyrrha: Certainly one I haven’t see before.

“15 Minutes Later”

Jaune: “Sweating”

Pyrrha: He’s working so hard.

Weiss: That’s a first.

Ruby: Hey don’t be mean.

Nora: Yeah Fearless Leader is making something awesome.

Jaune: “Removes Shirt”

RWBYP: 😳😳😳😳😳

Ruby: “Muttering”

Weiss: I’ve been rejecting that.

Blake: Thats why he wears baggy clothes.

Yang: Since when did he get muscles?

Pyrrha: My training really has helped.

Nora: Looking Hot.

Ren: 👍

“The Next Day”

“Combat Arena”

Jaune: “Throws Shield at training dummy”

“Shield bounces off training dummy hits another training dummy”

“Shield bounces off training dummy and hits wall”

“Shield bounces off wall finally moving Towards Jaune”

Jaune: “Grabs Shield”

Jaune: Holy crap, it actually worked.

Ruby: 🤩🤩🤩

Ruby: So Cool.

Yang: Not bad Vomit Boy.

Nora: WhoHoo go Fearless Leader.

Pyrrha: Excellent Work Jaune.

Weiss: Hmph its an improvement.

Blake: He‘s definitely more skillful than before.

Ren: “Nods Head”

Jaune: Thanks guys, I just hope this’ll be enough to pass Professor Port class.

”The Next Day”

Jaune: “Throws Shield at different angles of the walls”

“Shield bounces off walls before returning to Jaune”

Jaune: “Catches Shield”

Jaune: So what do you think?

Port: Mr. Arc this is remarkable, you’ve certainly outdone yourself.

Port: But I must ask what is the shield made out of?

Jaune: i’m not sure myself, my dad‘s friend said it’s a newly discovered metal that can absorb energy.

Port: Fascinating, does the met have a name?

Jaune: I think they’re calling it vibranium.

Port: Vibranium, hmmm?

Port: Well never the less you’ve passed, you’ve done a terrific job Mr. Arc.

Jaune: Thank you Professor Port.

Jaune: “Holds up Shield”

Jaune: This worked out perfectly.

[rreyie]

can I make a request for a reader x connie x jean x sasha fic where reader eats out sasha (or vice versa) and jean and connie are just watching? excited to see what you do with this one 👀

YES YES YES! i’ve been debating doing something like this for a long time but doing sexual stuff with these three could be so much fun :)))

afternoon snack

summary: you eat sasha out while jean and connie watch

warnings: nsfw- voyeurism, exhibitionism, pussy eating, fingering

a/n- hey luvs! this one was a fun one to make but i had no clue how to end it, so i gave this a shot! also this is my first time writing about wlw content, but i tried my best! hope you all like it!! :)))

you had no clue how you ended up here, it just happened.

you, connie, sasha and jean were all hanging out in your bedroom. connie was splayed out in the floor, pillow beneath his head as he read a comic book, jean on a chair sketching something, and you and sasha laying on the bed as you braided her auburn hair.

out of nowhere, your hormones got to you. you pictured yourself between her legs, eating her out as she called out your name like a prayer. your cunt clenched at the thought, feeling a pit grow in your stomach.

so, you started sneaking in some curious touches. around her neck, her waist, even underneath her boobs when you knew for a fact that neither of the men were looking. your fingerpads ever so gently trailed over her clothed abdomen, going a bit lower every time you came back for more.

it was jean who first noticed it- after all, he’s amazingly observant. he could see your hands trailing along her waist, the way sashas mouth was slightly open and the manner in which you looked at her, like it was some well kept secret.

“having fun over there?” he growled. “you don’t have to be all lovey dovey in front of us.”

he tried to act angry, maybe even a little bit disgusted. the last thing he wanted to see were his two girl best friends fucking each other, right?

wrong.

he could feel his pants tighten a bit, cock waking up due to the sudden corrupt thought. quickly, he placed his sketch pad over his crotch, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

your cheeks turned warm at his words, sashas cheeks also turning flush at the statement. your embarrassment soon faded away, seeing the bulge begin to form in his pants.

“hmmm...your little friend down there doesn’t seem to agree with you”, you snickered.

now jean was the one who was red in the face, connie looking up from the comic book to see what the commotion is about.

“the fuck is going on?” he asked.

“sasha and y/n are literally touching each other while we’re in the room.” jean grunted, hoping that his very obvious boner would go away soon.

connies eyes lit up, a smug smile forming across his face.

“okay, okay. i’m sorry if i sound like a pervert but can you guys like... eat each other out?” he asked. “i’ve never seen girls do it, i’m kinda curious.”

“what the fuck connie?” jean asked. “that’s sick-“

“i’ll do it”, sasha says, a growing heat forming in her stomach. “only if y/n agrees though.” she wouldn’t admit to it, but the fact that her two best friends would be watching her give you a little bit of taste turned her on.

you nod. “sure, let’s give these horny fucks something to watch. connie, pull up a chair.”

connie and jean looked at each other with confused faces, but were they going to protest to this? absolutely not. connie hurriedly pulled up a wooden chair with salmon-colored cushions and sat next to jean.

sasha rested her head on the headboard as her hands slid down to her hips and began to remove her pants by the waistband. you helped her out by practically ripping off her shirt, revealing her toned abs and rather large chest that was hidden by her bra.

you could’ve sworn you saw connie drooling while he watched you remove sashas bra, jean beginning to palm himself while you fiddled with the clasp. the white bra fell on the mattress, sashas pale tits now being exposed to everyone in the room.

if connie didn’t have a boner already, he did now. jeans boner only got worse, now feeling the precum trickle out of the head and down his shaft.

sasha pulled off your shirt as you threw it into a random corner of the room, and you discarded your pants along with it. your heat was throbbing at this point, a stain of arousal lining the bottom of your panties.

now you knew sasha was a boob woman, and every single time you showed her your breasts they never failed to amaze her. but this time, she quite literally ripped the bra off of your body with a hunger you’ve never seen in her before. maybe it was the fact that people were watching.

she gave your breast a quick nip before you pushed her against the headboard once again. out of the corner of your eye, jean had a devious grin on his face while connie just gave you two a little smile. both of them were starting to jerk themselves slowly to the sight, both tips red and veins protruding through their shaft. both men had impressive sizes.

now sasha was prettily laid out on the bed, those braids you had made earlier now messy and tangled. you moved your head in between her soft thighs, which she gave you a squeeze with.

you started out by just dipping your tongue in between her folds to collect the juices you had made beforehand. she had a good taste to her, slightly salty and smooth. she tugged at the sheets, letting out a small moan.

you quickly found her clit, inflamed and needy. you gave it a little flick with your tongue.

“oh- more, please...” sasha begged. “need your tongue...”

you looked up from in between her legs, and gave her a pompous smile, your dimples showing along the corners of your mouth. your chin was wetted with her slick, and oh boy was it a sight to see.

without warning, you plunged a finger into her tight hole, sending her hands flying into your locks. sasha moved her hips slightly as you moved it back and forth around her, getting a feel of her soaked walls. she was trying to hard to feel full, but failing miserably.

“nother’ finger”, she gasped. “please- please y/n...”

you stuffed another finger into her greedy hole, just touching on her sweet spot that sat along the bottom. this sent sasha into a frenzy, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, that was now empty with not thoughts except pleasure.

you continued to lap at her soaked cunt, like a little kitten drinking milk from its bowl. though you may have been content at the moment, sasha was becoming continually unhinged at your constant movements.

jean spat on his hand and continued to fist his hungry cock while connie rubbed the tip of his own, spreading more precum along his swollen tip.

sashas thighs began to tremble, you could tell she was nearing the edge. you’d like to tease her, you really would, but now wasn’t the time. you could tell the men were awaiting sashas climax, hoping to cum with her as their fists wrapped tightly around their cocks. their pace was fast, and you needed to hurry things up.

your fingers practically went into overdrive, curling around her sweet spot as she yanked your hair. her tits jiggled ever so slightly as she let out a gasp, followed by a moan that bordered on screaming.

as soon as you knew it, your girlfriend was creaming around your fingers, the milky fluid dripping off of your fingers.

jean and connie hit their climax too, as their white cum spat out of their tips in ropes. connies eyes were rolled to the back of his head, both men were panting as they rode their orgasmic wave out.

“shiiiitt”, jean exaggerated. “that... was fucking hot.” he looked down on his hand and laughed at the load of cum that stained him.

“made me bust a fucking nut too”, connie added in. “what time is it?”

you checked the clock that rested on your nightstand. “bout’ noon. better start heading down to the mess hall.”

sasha seemed to put her clothes on rather quickly, not saying a word to you, or anyone else in the room. you found this questionable, she was normally chatty after sex- telling you what she liked, what she wanted to do next time, all that.

“you’re awfully quiet”, you say to her. “what’s that about?”

sasha sighed. “getting horny makes me hungry, remember?”

you nod. now that you thought about it, sashas appetite skyrocketed after she climaxed. no wonder why she was so quiet.

you four all walk out of the room as if nothing happened, the only mention of what you did came later that night.

“hey, quick suggestion”, jean said. “can we like... do that again? what we did today?”

you and sasha both blurt out a “yeah”, laughter following while you all walked down the hall.

[legends-live-in-memories]

Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century

AYO! Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle! Team Enemies-to-Lovers for the win. I bring you another oneshot. but this time i used 3 prompts like a dumbass.

Fics Masterlist

Daminette Oneshot 4.3K words (no warnings except slight cursing)

Summary:

“Marinette is invited to the Super-Rockin' Wedding of the Century and she needs a date. Alya is both her best and worst wingman.”

Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle, I used 3 prompts to make this thing: 1. "You don't have to like me, you just need to pretend you do." 2. "I like your costume. You look very cute." "Are you making fun of me?" 3. 'Write about a very unusual wedding proposal.' this is the culmination of all my efforts.

without further ado:

It was the biggest news on the internet. Global sensation, international rockstar, Jagged Stone, was officially engaged to childhood friend turned manager, Penny Rolling. Memes and fan theories stormed every corner of the web. Trending topics including #rockstar_wedding and #RollingStone permeated every social media platform. Guest lists were speculated, dress designers were tagged in every post that even mentioned the words ‘wedding’ or ‘bride’. It was total mayhem but none felt it worse than up-and-coming Parisian designer, M. D. Cheng, privately known as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

The young adult was up to her neck in design templates, and was drowning in half-baked ideas and sketches. While the internet has only heard about the proposal for a solid two weeks at this point, Marinette was in the know for six months. Jagged Stone had contacted her in advance because he needed her help with the proposal itself.

And what a proposal it was.  

Jagged had outlined his idea in simple terms but it was still so mind-boggling that Marinette needed him to draw some visual aids to completely convey his idea. Initially it sounded simple enough but the more the man spoke, the more Marinette felt her brain fry at the mental picture. It first involved recreating a scene from Penny’s favourite movie. Which sounded rather romantic, if you ignored the fact that her favourite movie was Bride of Chucky. Then it involved Jagged dressed as the Tinman from Wizard of Oz. Oh, and the proposal had to happen on Halloween because that was the anniversary of their first date apparently, and based on everything else this plan entailed it might as well have been. Marinette’s role in all of this was to simply re-make the white wedding dress Chucky’s bride, Tiffany, wore because Penny already had the leather jacket to match. Of course she did. She didn’t even want to know how Jagged acquired the Tinman suit. Not her barrel of monkeys.

While many thought Jagged was the eccentric one of the pair, due to his loud personality and being an actual rockstar, the more Marinette worked for the two of them over the years, the more she learned how absolutely wrong they all were. It turned out it was Penny’s idea for Jagged to dye his hair purple, and she was the one to ask him out on Halloween all those faithful years ago. Her calm and collected demeanor was an impressive cover for the absolute weirdo she actually was. And Jagged had planned a proposal that was undoubtedly perfect for her. Regardless of how abso-fucking-lutely bizarre it was.

To each their own and let’s move on.

The set-up for the proposal started with Jagged, dressed as the Tinman, playing the part of Chucky, who begins the body-switching chant from the movie. Everything from that point on was resting on Penny’s love for the movie. Without hesitating, Penny, dressed as Tiffany, and playing her part, knew the lines by heart and immediately began reenacting the scene with Jagged. Her lines involved telling ‘Chucky’ to kiss her while she reaches for a knife that’s supposed to be in his pocket. Instead, as Jagged was still dressed as the Tinman, Penny pulled out a slip of paper. On said paper, the words ‘All the Tinman wanted was a heart’ were written in Jagged’s almost illegible chicken scratch. When Penny was distracted with the piece of paper, Jagged had gotten down on one knee and pulled out the engagement ring. The actual words of his proposal were never actually said because, upon seeing the ring, Penny flung herself into the man, clipping her chin into his metal-plated shoulder, but she wasn’t complaining.  

So that was how the proposal went.

Wedding planning started almost immediately since the newly engaged had already picked a theme. And this is where Marinette began to regret every life choice she has made since she was thirteen; starting with opening the mysterious box she found on her desk and ending with agreeing to being the main designer for the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. One thing that wasn’t well-known but not a secret about Jagged was that he was a superhero fan. He grew up enjoying the fictional ones in his childhood comic books and he adored the real ones he witnessed in his adult life. His song that he dedicated to the teenage Ladybug was only one part of his… appreciation. His hero-worship went so far as to beieve that a hero-themed wedding was appropriate. Or he didn’t, but also didn’t care about adhering to societal propriety and went with that theme anyways. So the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century was now the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. And twenty-three year old Marinette was incharge of the entire wedding party’s outfits.

Perfect.

As a small mercy from some god, both the bride and groom to-be had a rather short list of people in their parties. Marinette was also able to design appropriate hero-themed outfits for all of them and scheduled them for fittings in the coming weeks. That, surprisingly, was the easy part as there were plenty of heroes to draw inspiration from. However, that wasn’t the cause of her current crisis right now.

No. Marinette was up to her neck in unnecessary designs and ideas because she’s been avoiding one particular contingency in her acceptance of the wedding invitation.

She needed a date.

She needed a date because she had promised Penny that she wasn’t overworking herself and to prove it, she would bring a date to the wedding. Rather than call any of the people who expressed interest in her at some point in time, she designated herself to wallow in her situation and distract herself with designs. In the midst of her one person pity party, her phone rang under the sea of ripped out pages. She scoured for the device and hastily answered before she could accidently send the caller to voicemail.

“Hello?” She didn’t check the caller ID and was delighted at the sound of her best friend answering her.

“Marinette! How’s it going over there?” Alya’s voice was mixed in with the busy street life of Metropolis. She had moved there immediately after high school, snatching an internship with the Daily Planet and attending the local community college. She and Marinette don’t call often due to time differences, but when they do it’s like they’ve never parted. She always looked forward to her calls.

“It’s going great, Als,” if she ignored her current dilemma, then yeah, everything was perfect. “But you wouldn’t happen to have an available bachelor willing to be my date to the ‘Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century’ in your back pocket, would you?”  

Alya’s answering laugh was both comforting and teasing and Marinette felt herself missing her even more. What she said next, however, took Marinette by surprise.

“Actually I do.”

“Pardon?”

“Well,” she took a pause to build suspense. “I know a guy who knows a guy. But it’s nothing shady, I swear.”

“That’s not comforting.” Oh god. What has she unintentionally signed herself up for?

“You know my coworker, Jon? The guy who does the photography for all my field work?” Alya had met Jon as soon as she had started her internship. Both of his parents were top journalists at the Daily Planet so he volunteered to act as tour guide for all the new interns. He and Alya, from the exasperated stories Marinette has heard from Nino, got along like a house on fire. If he was involved, Marinette was starting to doubt even further that this was going to end well for her.

“Yes, I know Jon. How is he by the way?”

“He’s fine, but I remember him telling me how he tried to set up his best friend on several dates over the years and how they all ended poorly. He’s as approachable as a brick wall; not just a prick but the whole damn cactus. Or so Jon says.” How does that sound like someone Marinette wanted to bring along with her to the wedding? “But he’s totally your type so I could ask Jon to wrap him up in bubblewrap and send him your way whenever you want.”

“How,” and Marinette said this with a lot of feeling, “is he my type exactly?”

“Green eyes with daddy issues.”

“ALYA!” Marinette was absolutely floored at her bluntness. She wasn’t even sorry about shouting into the receiver.

“Am I wrong? You have a type and he fits that type. Jon mentioned how this guy and his dad hit several roadblocks when they first met. And I’ve seen pictures of him so ‘green eyes’ checks too.”

“That is not my type of guy.” She can’t believe this was how this conversation was going.

“Adrien.”

“I didn’t even know who his father was at the time, Alya.”

“Felix.”

“His dad is dead! That doesn’t count as ‘daddy issues.’” She can feel her cheeks flaming as the call went on. Any hotter and she was going to set her sketchbooks on fire. “Besides, I dated Luka so he doesn’t fit the criteria.”

“He’s an outlier and that’s only because his eyes are blue.” Okay, fine she had a type. “And besides, you don’t even have to date the guy. You only need him to accompany you to the wedding and you both go your separate ways after. No harm, no foul.”

Right. That was true. No strings attached. She could do that.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but,” she held her breath and let it out loudly, ignoring Alya’s chuckle at her dramatics.” Give Jon my number to give this guy. And send his number to me.”

“Wahoo! Look at you, girl,” Alya was hooting and hollering over the speaker and Marinette found herself going along with the theatrics. “Okay, I will. But I gotta go, my cab is here. Bye!”

“Bye! Stay safe. Oh before you go, what’s Jon’s friend’s name anyways?”

“Uh, Damian, I think.” The call ended before Marinette could respond, but it was okay she mused. Tossing her phone onto her couch, she flopped down onto her floor and stared at her ceiling contemplatively.

What could go wrong?

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

When Alya had described this Damian guy as ‘not just a prick but the whole damn cactus,’ she was right. Marinette had been texting back and forth with Damian for a month, and the guy was making this idea seem less and less worth it by the day. Whenever Marinette tried to learn more about the guy, he would ghost her for days on end before replying with a half-assed response at best. She knew nothing about him other than that his first name was Damian and that he was from Gotham. She had no idea how the ball of life that was Jon was even friends with someone like Damian. She asked as much to Alya in their most recent call.

“How did they even meet?” She was pacing the floor plan of her apartment, ready to tear her hair out. “Did Damian bully him in school or something?”

“Apparently their dads knew each other and introduced them,” Alya sounded half awake, stifling a yawn; probably because Marinette had called her at 1 am, Metropolis’s time. “Their brothers being friends also forced them to get along.”

“And that’s another thing!” Marinette had paused in her pacing and was now staring intently at a potted plant in the corner of her living room. Any more rage in her glare and the plant would have wilted and died. “He doesn’t tell me anything about him. I don’t need to know all his personal information, but if he’s going to be flying out to Paris on my behalf, I think I at least deserve to know his last name.”

“Hey, M,” another yawn echoed through the speaker, “I love you, truly, but maybe this could wait for holier day time hours?”

“I guess,” a vindictive part of Marinette felt like this was payback for all those inopportune calls when Marinette was busy with clients. “Sorry for interrupting your sleep.”

“It’s no big deal. But have you tried talking to him about it? If he’s ghosting your texts, try calling him. If he ignores you then too then maybe you should try finding another person to be your plus one.”

“The wedding is in two weeks, Alya!” Marinette partially regrets waiting so long to vent her frustration about the situation but she had tried to tough it out. “I would have much preferred if you were my plus one. You sure there’s no way to convince your parents to skip out on the family trip?”

“Sorry, M. Once the news about the proposal hit the internet, I tried everything. I even tried to use work, saying that I could cover the ceremony for the newspaper. My folks won’t budge though. My dad’s aunt is important to him and he wants us all at the funeral.”

“Right, right, I forgot about that.” Now she felt like an ass. “Send you dad my condolences when you see him again.”

“Will do. Good morning, Marinette. And don’t worry too much about the guy. Everything will turn up great. I can feel it.”

“Thanks, Alya. Good night, get some sleep.”

The line went dead and Marinette let out a rather weary exhale. She had no idea how this was going to work. She pulled up her contacts and searched for what she had Damian saved as.

‘Douche’ flashed on her screen and she hit the call button without remorse. She didn’t care that it was also currently 1 am in Gotham. He didn’t deserve that much consideration from her.

“What?” His voice was gravely and deep. And also really pissed if his clipped tone was anything to go by.

“Damian? Hi, this is Marinette, the girl you’re accompanying to the wedding in two weeks?” Her voice was pitched as if she was dealing with an irritating customer. Fake and polite.

“I know who you are. Why are you calling me at this unreasonable hour?” Fair, but Marinette was still aggravated at him so she wouldn’t concede.

“I’m calling because we need to talk.” She heard him scoff over the line and she felt her blood boil even hotter. She took several calming breaths to reign her temper in. “Don’t hang up.”

“Look,” She didn’t give him a chance to refuse and kept talking, getting everything off her chest. “This wedding is important to me and I promised the bride I would bring a date. After that you can delete my number and we never have to speak to each other ever. You don’t have to like me, you just need to pretend you do.”

“Whatever,” he sounded less annoyed from when he first answered the phone. “I will act as cordial as the situation requires, and nothing more. I also have my attire secured for the wedding and accommodations in Paris already prepared. I will see you at the wedding.”

“Than—” The sound of the call ending interrupted her and her frustration was back tenfold. With a cry in anguish she flung her phone onto her couch and stomped into her kitchen to channel her rage into baking.

Three loaves of bread and a dozen eclairs later, Marinette felt calm enough to finish the final touches on her outfit for the wedding.

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

It was the day of the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. The Rolling-Stone’s, as they were asking to be called, had kept the ceremony small. Relatively. Only two hundred invited guests, few of which were asked to bring a plus one. Marinette was over the moon at the array of outfits people were sporting. Some chose full-on cosplay while others, like herself, went for more subtle nods to the heroes. In honour of a previous Ladybug, Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, Marinette based her outfit off of Wonder Woman’s uniform, Hippolyta’s daughter. A navy blue sequined halter top bodice that flows into a blood red A-line skirt. She paired it with a thick silver belt, silver gladiator heels rather than boots and broad silver arm cuffs. It was simple but effective. Besides, all attention should be on the bride and groom today.

A tap on her shoulder caught her attention and she turned only to come face first with red with black spots. Ladybug. Someone chose her as inspiration. How flattering. Looking up to see who was wearing the Ladybug-themed suit jacket, she stared at a pair of deep forest green eyes and a sneer to ruin that ridiculously handsome face. She recognized him from the photo Alya had sent some time ago. Damian.

“Hi, Damian,” at least one of them had to be civil and Marinette knew it was going to be her. But the idea that of all the heroes for him to choose from he chose her sent her into poorly stifled fits of giggling. Images of him going ‘Lucky Charm’ and ‘Miraculous Ladybug’ were almost too much to bear.

“I don’t know what’s so amusing about my choice of attire,” his face was starting to flush in similar shades to his jacket and that made Marinette laugh harder. “Ladybug is a well respected heroine and I thought it appropriate to pay homage while in her home city.”

“No. No no. There is nothing wrong with it. I like your costume, you look very cute.”

“Are you making fun of me?” His irritation was rather cathartic for the still giggling woman.

“No, I just didn’t think you would have put that much thought into your outfit for today. You always gave me the impression that you were ready to back out at any time.”

“I made a commitment and I had all intentions to see it through the end.”

“Could have fooled me.” And her snark was back. Now was not the time to pick a fight with the guy, he did fly all the way to Paris on her behalf after all.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” and Marinette wanted to know how he managed to sound so condescending with that statement. “How did you even get an invitation to this wedding anyways? You’re not a celebrity and you don’t look like family either.”

“Actually,” she said it with more force than what was probably necessary but his slightly accusatory tone was just so irritating. “I am the lead designer for the wedding party,” her chest was swimming with confidence at the chance to talk about her job. “I’ve worked with the bride and groom for years; M. D. Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette will deny to her grave the rush of satisfaction at the absolute gobsmacked look on Damian’s face. A real fish out of water. Mouth open wide ready to catch flies. She wished she could capture this moment forever.

The moment was over too soon because Damian was regaining his composure and slipping into his default stoic expression. He cleared his throat and fixed a look at Marinette. It was rather intense.

“I believe I owe you an apology then.” He looked put-out at admitting something so menial. “I believed you were nothing more than a socialite chain climber.”

“A what?”

“When Jon reached out to me saying that a friend of one of his coworkers needed a date for an event, and when that event turned out to be the wedding of someone of such popularity, I figured you were only trying to increase your own social status by showing up with me on your arm.”

“And you said ‘yes’ anyways?” Marinette was confused but pieces of the mystery that is Damian were starting to fit in place. But something else stuck out as odd to her. “Also, how would you being my date increase my social status anyhow?”

He scoffs before answering. Bitch.

“What? It wouldn’t be the first time one of Jon’s set-ups ended that way. Besides, we’ve had an agreement that I can’t turn down an offer until meeting the person face to face.” Weird deal but some friendships are just like, Marinette supposes. “And being seen with me is enough to make anyone more popular.”

“...And you are?”

“Damian… Wayne…” He spoke as if he was talking to a small child. As if it should be obvious who he was like he was some celeb— Oh shit.

A name had flashed into her mind. On the finalised guest list, Marinette had only seen it once in passing, there was a name that belonged to someone Jagged was rather excited to see. He said the friend was an old college buddy. She remembered that much. She had completely forgotten that ‘a billionaire playboy’ was also attached to the name. Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne. Suddenly everything in the past few months made perfect sense. The cold shoulder, the ghosting, and his prickly disposition. He was overly guarded because he had justified reasons to be. Now she felt like an ass.

“Oh.” Real intelligent, Marinette.

“Oh? What, you didn’t know?” He sounded incredulous at the notion and he had every right to be. Marinette could only shake her head. Words were failing her now, her brain trying to rewrite the memories of every interaction the two ever had.

She was saved from further mortification by a call for everyone to find their seats. The wedding was about to begin.

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

The ceremony was beautiful. Penny’s dress was a silver grey, tied back with a golden belt. Instead of a long train, Marinette had attached a black cape that shimmered in the right lighting. Penny wore a tiara with two peaks to imitate the ‘bat-ears.’ A Batman-themed wedding dress was not something she ever saw herself making, but she was proud at how beautiful and confident Penny looked in it. Jagged was adorn in a royal blue suit with bold red lapels. He also had a matching red cape. His hair was styled in the familiar sleek way Superman wears it. The two made quite the pair.  

The reception was a lively affair. Jagged had dedicated several songs to his new wife and they dazzled the crowd on the dance floor. Marinette didn’t pay much attention to the speeches beyond a quick glance at Damian when his own father stepped up to the podium. He had buried his head in his hands, looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. A courtesy pat on the back was all Marinette gave to him.

The two hadn’t really spoken much since the revelation that they had completely misjudged each other. The awkward tension was almost palpable. As Marinette was gathering the courage to speak to him, to try and officially clear the air, she was being dragged by one of the bridesmaids onto the dancefloor. It was time for the bride to throw the bouquet. All the unmarried women were being corralled into a tight cluster and Marinette got swept up in the tide.

Marinette wasn’t focusing on the actual game, trying her hardest not to get trampled, when she saw something move in her periphery. Years of being Ladybug had left her with finely honed instincts so she could not be blamed when she immediately jumped and caught the incoming object. The bouquet. She had caught the bouquet. Oh that was just her luck. Deafening squeals of delight brought her out of her own head and she was suddenly being embraced in Penny’s arms. She returned the hug, sharing in her delight, before breaking away to sit down.

“Nice catch.” His voice had surprised her, she hadn’t expected him to speak to her for the rest of the night.

“Uh, thank you. Just lucky, I guess.” Damian didn’t get the chance to respond because he was being dragged by his own father to join all the bachelors in catching the garter. Marinette was equally uninterested in this spectacle and had let her mind wander to other things.

A loud uproar caught her attention again and her eyes zeroed in on Damian holding the tossed garter. He made his way back over to her, dropping himself into his seat gracelessly. The two sat in silence, contemplating the implications of them both catching the garter and bouquet. The games were done purely for tradition’s sake, with total disregard of what it was supposed to symbolise. Still. One’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Minutes ticked passed and Marinette was beginning to wonder if someone was going to talk about the elephant in the room.

“So,” Damian’s voice was slightly strained, like he wasn’t used to being this flustered. It was kind of endearing. Wait what?

“So.”

“While marriage seems far out of reach for right now,” Oh god. He was going to talk about it. “How does dinner sound, next Friday?”

“Wait,” he wanted to spend more time with her? After their disastrous first impressions? “Really?”

“Really. I believe we started off on the wrong foot,” he let out a soft chuckle, almost self-deprecating. “Which isn’t really new for me, but it’s not everyday I meet someone who doesn’t recognise me at first glance. I think you’re someone who I would like to get to know better. If that is something you are also interested in.”

“Yeah,” Marinette knows all about wanting to get acquainted with someone who she’s had a bad first impression of. Just look at her past relationships. Wow, she really does have a type. Damning thoughts for later. “Friday works for me. Seven pm?”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the details then.”

“Wonderful, I can’t wait.”

The rest of the evening was spent in companionable silence with small bouts of conversation in between. They shared a couple dances on the floor and parted ways at the end of the night with budding anticipation for Friday.

As Marinette was preparing for bed that night in the comfort of her apartment, she sent a text to Alya that her friend would see later in the day.

You were right, I do have a type :(

[high-functioning-lokipath]

All About Eavesdropping - Loki x Reader - Words: 1,835

“You want us to what?” You yelled. 

“I need you and Elsa here to go to Greenland for about a month,” Tony said. You stared at him from across his worktable in his lab. 

“Why in Valhalla would we need to do that, Stark?” Loki retorted. “And don’t call me Elsa.” Tony had called the two of you in there right after breakfast saying that he had a very important job for you. This, however, did not seem to be all that special.

“For purely scientific purposes, of course,” He replied, mouthful of blueberries.

“And those would be?” You sighed, facedesking. 

“The new winter stealth suits I designed. I need them tested in the field. I’ve run as many lab tests as possible but,” Tony shrugged. “Field tests are absolutely necessary. Everything you’ll need is either in these boxes or in the house in Greenland. If you want to take any other personal stuff you’ll want to grab it before you leave.”

“And you think we’re the best for the job?” You asked.

“He’s already a popsicle so if it gets too cold he can deal with it and you can heal yourself or him anyway,” Tony said like it was the most logical thing in the world. Loki tensed at his words but didn’t say anything about it.

“Fine,” Loki grunted. He grabbed the box Tony had marked for him and headed for the doors. 

“You leave at 6! Don’t be late!” 

“I wouldn’t dare disappoint you, Stark,” Loki sassed before finally stalking out. 

“Have fun!” Tony grinned at you, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“First of all, perv. Second of all, ain’t gonna happen!” You replied. “Why are you doing this? This whole thing is a direct attack on a part of him he doesn’t like to address!” 

“Well I figured he has to grow up one day and deal with it. We all have inner demons to fight. I figured I’d help him.”

“A bit not good there, Sherlock.” Tony snorted in laughter and shook his head. 

“Would you rather I send him with Steve?” Your eyes widened comically.

“Nope!” You exclaimed, popping the p. “I think we’ll do just fine.” You grabbed your box and headed out as well.   

By 6 o'clock, the two of you were flying out on one of Tony's jets. "So, what do you think of the new suits?" You asked Loki, trying to make some conversation.

"They are no match for true Asgardian leather and would be greatly improved by at least a cape," He replied sounding rather bored. 

"Oh," You said. "How exactly are we to be testing the suits again? I forget what Tony said."

"He said nothing, darling. It was all in his infernal little packet." You blushed lightly at the pet name and nodded. 

"Alright, well, I guess I'm just going to," You paused, unsure of what to do. It was obvious Loki was not interested in conversation but there wasn't much to do on the jet. "I'm just going to sit over there," You said, getting up quickly and moving to the other side of the jet. The rest of the flight was quiet, Loki only speaking up to alert you that you were about to land. 

"Surely the man of iron could not possibly want us to stay here," Loki said, getting out and seeing the small house.

"Maybe it's bigger on the inside," You said hopefully. Gathering your few things, you both headed in. "Oh this is so much worse," You groaned. The large main room consisted of the dining and living rooms and the kitchen. However, it was very sparsely decorated. You could see a stack of groceries in the kitchen along with a note. Loki wandered off to explore the bathroom and bedrooms, you assumed, while you read the note. 

"Find anything of interest?" Loki called out, surprising you.

"Just that Tony said if we didn't like the food or somehow ran out there's a grocery store about 10 miles away."

"And just how does he expect us to go there?" Loki yelled, getting increasingly frustrated. 

"The note says our transportation is out back." You walked down the small hallway to the back door and looked outside. Stifling a laugh you called out, "Hey, Loki! I think your ex is here!"

"My who?" Loki replied, very confused. "I have no 'exes', as you call them, on Midgard." You smirked and moved aside so Loki could look. When he saw what was in the backyard, a strange look crossed over his face. "Run," He said in a dangerously calm voice. 

"I beg your pardon?" You replied.

"Run if you don't want to lose your phone," He smirked back. You laughed but you did take off running. He chased you back out to the main room but you ran out the front door. "Don't think you can escape me!" He called out. 

"Wanna bet?" You called back, running to the backyard. You quickly jumped on one of the two horses you had seen and took off. 

"Oh, you'll regret saying that, my dear," Loki grinned, getting on the other horse and taking off after you. 

The next few days continued in a similar pattern. There wasn't much to do so you and Loki would often spend your time exploring the woods behind the house or riding the horses or just talking. Loki had warmed up to you quite a bit, pun intended, and you were quite happy. Of course, you recorded the events of each day in your diary. Well, it was less of a diary and more of a collection of special moments you wanted to remember and sketches you'd made. You had just finished writing today's events when you heard a loud clatter and Loki call you from the kitchen.

"Y/N!" He said. "Can you come here please?" You quickly put your notebook in the nightstand drawer and hurried out to the kitchen.

"What in the world happened, Loki?" You exclaimed, holding back a laugh. Loki was laying on the floor, covered in a mixture of flour and eggs it seemed, with various cups and bowls around him. 

"I was attempting to reach a mixing bowl on the top shelf when I slipped on an egg and pulled the shelf down," He admitted.

"You're telling the truth!" You gasped, openly chuckling at the situation now.

"Of course, love! I couldn't lie to you." You blushed brightly, as he often made you do with those pet names. 

"Uh, well," You stuttered. "Why don't you go wash up and I'll finish," You paused, glancing around. "Whatever you were making."

"I was attempting to make breakfast," He grinned. "But I think I should make myself clean instead, hm?" 

"Yes, you should," You smirked. "Wouldn't want anyone thinking you were greying early."

"You-" He exclaimed, standing quickly. For a moment you thought he was truly angry, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. He reached onto the counter and threw a handful of flour at you before running off to the bathroom. You laughed, dusted yourself off, and got to work on breakfast.

About an hour later, he came back out and sat across you at the counter. "Your breakfast, my prince," You smiled, presenting him his plate. He smiled and you ate in silence for a time. 

"I've been reading a lot lately," He commented. 

"Mhm," You replied, mouthful of syrupy pancakes. 

"The last book I read had some rather interesting sketches in it too."

"Really?" You asked, truly interested. "I love art. Can you show it to me?" You took a large gulp of milk as he replied.

"My dear," He said, setting down his fork. "I read your diary." You coughed, almost choking on your ill-timed drink. 

"You what?" You screeched. "How dare you invade my privacy like that and-"

"Don't you care to know what I thought?" He interrupted.

"Why? So you can laugh at me, oh Mr. High-and-" He cut you off by leaning over the counter and kissing you earnestly. "Oh, that's nice," You said once you pulled away. 

"Just nice?" He smirked. "I guess I'll have to work on that." He kissed you once more before you pulled away, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

"I just remembered something!" You gasped. 

"What's wrong?" You quickly pulled out the pamphlet Tony had made you about the suit testing. You then gestured to a paragraph under a subheading of RECORDING ANY AND ALL TEST RESULTS

ALL TEST RESULTS MUST BE RECORDED BY THE TESTERS USING THE STEPS LISTED. TO ENSURE NOTHING IS MISSED, HOWEVER, THE HOUSE WILL ALSO BE UNDER 24/7 SURVEILLANCE TO TRACK ANY UNRECORDED RESULTS.

OUTSIDE - AUDIO/VIDEO

INSIDE - AUDIO ONLY

Loki grinned and leaned into you, lips brushing against your ear. He whispered something and you giggled. "Loki!" You gasped. "We can’t do that here!"

"Oh, yes," He purred. "We can do it anywhere we want if we're creative enough." 

"But outside is so much more exciting," You grinned. "So," you paused, struggling to find the right word. "Freeing!"

"Please do not do anything outdoors where I can see!" You heard a loud voice yell. You both quickly realized it was coming from the monitoring system.

"Steve? Is that you?" You called back with a chuckle. 

"Yeah, Tony insisted I take a turn on guard duty," He grumbled. "Look, I'm sorry I interrupted," He paused awkwardly. "Whatever you were doing but could you please not do it outside? Outside has cameras." Loki laughed loudly and you did too. 

"We really didn't mean to prank you, Cap. I thought Tony was on the other end of that mic."

"I however have no objections to how this turned out," Loki added. You whacked him arm lightly and shook your head. "Truthfully, though, we were only speaking of testing another aspect of the suit. I whispered to Y/N my idea and-"

"I get it," Cap replied quickly. You couldn't see him but you could tell he was embarrassed. "I'll make you two a deal. Behave yourselves, finish the tests, and get home early and I'll help you prank Tony here in the tower. Ok?"

"You have yourself a deal, Captain," Loki grinned. 

"Alright. I'm going to take a nap now. Don't do anything stupid."

"Oh we won't," Loki smirked, wrapping his arms around you and planting light kisses on your neck.

"Loki!" You squealed.

"Do you want to prank Tony or not?" Steve yelled. "I can't see you but I can hear you! And that didn't sound like suit testing. Get to work! If you do as you're supposed to, you'll be done in a week."

"Yes, sir," You both grumbled. Loki, ever the mischief maker, wasn't about to let up. He grabbed a towel and twirled it, smacking your backside with it as you walked away. 

"What was that for?" You asked.

"Loki, did you just-"

"For purely scientific purposes, I assure you," He replied. Steve groaned in frustration.

"This is gonna be a long week."

Loki Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@serpentargo

@khena

@nyx2021

@kaz11283

@weasley-main-lover

@up-to-mischief

@lokislittlesigyn

​Marvel (all characters) Taglist

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@whatafuckingdumbass

@ladylulu143

@lokislittlesigyn

[polnareffenjoyer]

Uh unsure how many characters you’re willing to write for but can I have the SDC crew reacting to seeing their crush’s sketchbook filled with drawings and silly comics of them? On the case you do have a limit on how many, then I’m fine with either Polnareff, Kakoyin, Jotaro or Avdol (who can pick whoever if you want to!) Hope you’re having a lovely day!💕💕

This is such a cute idea anon, hope you like it. Also I don't really have a character limit, I wanted to do all of the crusaders but then I got tired and it already took me such a long time to finish it and ahhh. Sorry for all the grammatical errors, English is not my first language and it's already so late when I'm finishing it and it's just bleh. I hope you like it anyways, sending much love to you anon! ♥️

Stardust Crusaders finding their crushes' sketchbook

Jotaro Kujo

He notices that you've been spending most of your free time drawing in that sketchbook of yours. Truth be told, it bothers him a lot. Jotaro has had a big fat crush on you for a while now, and he secretly longs for your company. He can't admit that tho, he has a hard ass bad boy reputation to maintain after all. What would people say if the saw him all flustered for a girl? The fact that you would rather sit by yourself and draw than be around him and the others bugs him. So one day, when you're busy with something else, he takes your beloved sketchbook and decides to see what's in there. He knows he's being creepy, but he couldn't care less. Just trying to get to know you better, without actually talking to you. Exactly.

He's very flustered but would rather die than admit it. Has read through all of it, admiring every single little drawing. After he's done, he'll just put it back where he found it, it the exact same place just so you don't notice someone has been messing with it. You probably have no idea he had seen your sketchbook at first, but you surely notice the blush dusting his cheeks whenever he speaks to you from that day on. Probably avoids you for a little while because he's so flustered.

The rest of the crew also notices something is off, Jotaro is always lost in thoughts and smokes more frequently. He can't keep himself from thinking about those cute drawings of yours, reading through your comics was a true delight. It fills him with glee to know that HE, among all of the crusaders, is the one who's the main character in your stories. It makes him giddy on the inside.

His secret eventually comes to light one night, he accidentally admits to having read through your comics while a late night talk between the whole group. While you were talking, Kakyoin had brought up the topic of your sketchbook. Now it's your turn to be embarassed, blushing crimson while trying to get as much information out of him as possible. How much did he see? Did he read through ALL OF THEM?

The rest of the crusaders are shocked at first, but quickly they start to laugh at the scene. Jotaro is reluctant to give any information, but he eventually tells you that yes, indeed, he's seen EVERYTHING. However, doesn't admit what the content of the sketchbook really is. Despite everything, he would never embarass you like that.

After everyone goes to sleep, you catch Jotaro before he has a chance to fall asleep, lying on his sleeping bag while looking at the night sky. You want to apologize, say anything, just to talk to him, but you're unable to find right words. He just sighs.

"Yare yare daze, there's no need to be embarassed [Y/N], I'm not mad"

Your eyes light up at his words. You want to say something, anything, thank him, but before you get a chance to do so, Jotaro's deep voice cuts you off.

"To be honest, I think your drawings are amazing. I really liked them" you notice his face is slightly tinted red from underneath his cap "But if you wanted me to model for you, you could've just said so"

With that, he rolls over and away from you. Completely baboozled, you roll over as well and try to sleep, or at least pretend to be asleep. Honestly, neither of you had slept much that night.

Kakyoin Noriaki

Kakyoin had a thing for you since you joined the crusaders, and your sketchbook is probably the very first thing he had noticed about you. He's always been interested in art, his parents had signed him up to numerous art courses and whatnot through his life. He's always loved drawing and painting, using it as an escape from his daily problems, and seeing that you two might have something in common makes him incredibly happy, especially since he has feelings for you.

He'll try to approach you about your sketchbook very subtely, afraid that he might scare you away by being too pushy. Of course you get extremely flustered everytime he brings it up, but it doesn't discourage him. Kakyoin respects your boundaries and understands that you might not be ready to show him your drawings yet. Despite that, he's always willing to share his knowledge with you. He'll give you advices about proper shading while you two are waiting in the hotel lobby for the rest of the group to finish up picking rooms. During a long car ride, he'll talk to you about his favourite artists. If you want him to show you how to put certain shading techniques into practice, he'll be more than happy to do so. He'll just pick a random piece of paper and start drawing on it, you might want to lean in closer and maybe put your head on his shoulder to get a better look? He has no objections! Just sayin.

When he eventually gets to see your sketchbook, this man is so honored! He didn't mean to look, at first he though it was just some book lying around and wanted to take a look inside, out off boredom. Once he realizes what he's reading at, his face flushes with crimson. Your sketchbook is filled with sketches of him? This whole time you were actually drawing him, out of all people? He couldn't be more grateful that no one else was around, if someone saw him reading through your comics with this stupid smile on his face and red cheeks, they would've though he went mad.

Kakyoin wastes no time trying to find you. For a moment, he thinks that perhaps he should've waited a bit, just to get you alone and not embarass you infront of the whole crew. He can't think straight though, his mind filled with your cute little drawings, with his face drawn with black pen over and over again. With glee, he notes that you had used the very techniques he had told you about earlier. If you had drawn him so many times, does it mean that you have a crush on him too? It's too good to be true.

"[Y/N]! Can I talk with you for a minute?"

He goes to confront you immediately. Others give him a puzzled look, but he couldn't care less. He grabs your arms and leads you away.

"Don't be mad [Y/N], but I've seen your sketchbook and I have to say, I think your art is beyond amazing!"

You're at loss of words, your face red and you could swear that you've never felt so embarassed in your whole entire life. However, his reaction is making you feel a bit better. He's not mad, nor is he making fun of you. If anything, he seems enamoured.

"Please, [Y/N], we should draw together! Maybe next time we have a chance, I should paint your portrait?"

Despite the awkwardness, the whole situation turns out amazing in the end. How he's sure you must have feelings for him, and it makes him incredibly happy, hoping that one day, after your crusade is done, he'll get a chance to repay you and make that promised portrait.

Muhammad Avdol

With everything that's been happening lately, Avdol gets a little bit distracted from you. Before he would steal glances your way all the time, watching with curiosity as you would draw something in your sketchbook. Recently, he's been too busy fighting enemy stand users and... well, trying not to die. He still cares about you a lot and watches over you during fights, ready to shield you from danger with his own body, if it's what it takes to keep you safe.

It probably happens because of a mishap. While you are deciding on your rooming, you leave your sketchbook lying next to Avdol's things and go to the bathroom. After he's done helping Joseph with translating and getting everything done, he goes back and assumes that it's just one of his books that has fallen out of the bag. Not thinking much of it, he picks it up and leaves with Mrs Joestar to settle in their shared room.

You can imagine the panic and shock that nearly paralyzes you once you notice that your beloved sketchbook is gone, nowhere to be seen, reduced to atoms! You begin to look around frantically, looking under the furniture while sweating profusely. Other quests give you weird looks, but you don't even notice them staring. Polnareff is one of them, he asks if you're okay and tries to calm you down, but to no avail. After he leaves, you try to focus really hard and try to remember - when did you see it last time? It was on that chair for sure when you left. God, you can only pray that it doesn't end up in Avdol's hands somehow...

Meanwhile, Avdol is getting ready for shower and goes through his bag. He notices the book he picked up from the lobby isn't even a book, but a sketchbook! Now he's sure he must've picked it up by mistake, he decides it would be best to put it down and not look through it. It's someone's very personal art after all, it would be very disrespectful to - wait a damn minute, is that HIM?

Long story short, he goes through a good portion of your drawings before Joseph comes out of the shower and gives him a puzzled look, seeing how his eyes are literally shinning with adoration. He puts your sketchbook back into his bag, acting as if nothing happened and continues on with his nightly routine. Later on, when Joseph is already fast asleep, he contemplates about whether or not he should go to your room right now and ask about the sketchbook he had found. He's already suspecting it's yours, whose else would it be? He has seen you drawing often, could it be that you returned his feelings and had spent your time sketching him? Ultimately, he decides to wait until tomorrow to find out.

The very next day, he knocks on your door early in the morning. It startles you awake, running up to your door to look through a peephole, seeing a muscular man on the other side. Sighing heavily, you unlock the door and open it just a little bit.

"Excuse my intrusion, [Y/N], but I have found something that I think belongs to you."

Now that's embarassing. You see your sketchbook in his hand, a wide, knowing smile on his face. He knows it's yours. All it took is one look at your stupid red face to figure it out. God, he can read you like an open book, can't he? While you reach out to take it from him, your fingers touch just slightly.

"Don't worry, I swear I won't tell anyone about this" she winked at you, which almost made you gasp "If anything, I think I should maybe pose for you in private? So you can get a better look? You should think about it..."

Who would've thought this man could be such a flirt sometimes...

Jean Pierre Polnareff

You better watch out, because if this man has a crush on you, you bet he would go above and beyond to find out what's inside that sketchbook. I'm not joking. He forgets what personal space is, he's even worse that Jotaro, because while JoJo would make sure to be sneaky, Polnareff wouldn't even bother. He'll try to catch a sneak peak by looking over your shoulder while you're drawing, constantly asking you questions about art related things, everything always leading to your sketchbook.

He wants to know what's inside. Simple as that. You're like an enigma to him, I feel like all women are mysteries to him and he always works towards finding out what their secrets are. You are especially interesting to him, because of how secretive you are with your art. He's captivated, and while he never had any interest in arts himself, he had always fancied himself as a man with a great sense of beauty. That being said, he's always trying to get your attention while talking about how "France is a wonderful country for artists! You should come and visit after our crusade is over, [Y/N]! I'll show you all the greatest museums and art galleries!"

He's like a puppy, following you around and being just a bit too pushy. If you tell him you feel uncomfortable, he'll back off of course. He's not just some juvenile pervert after all! He's a honourable man who would never touch or bother a woman without her permission, no matter how desperate he seems sometimes.

When he finally sees your sketchbook, it's probably because he did it on purpose and not because of an accident. He wanted to make sure that it was him your were capturing in your drawing, and boy was he happy when he saw what's inside! It's all him, cute little sketches, little comics, it's better that he could've ever imagined! He's literally crying the tears of joy while reading them. Before it was all just wishful thinking, but now it turns out to be true! He's honoured, admiring every single little drawing with hit tears streaming down his face. He must look pathetic right now, if anyone was around they would think the was a mad man. He gets up and runs away with your sketchbook in his hand, trying to find you.

"[Y/N]! Ma cherie! Mon coeur! My love, my life! We need to talk!"

Did i mention that he doesn't shy away from nicknames? Yeah.

It's probably the worst confrontation compared to the rest of them, he's not subtle like Kakyoin and decides to talk with you about your drawings right then and there, in front of everyone. At first they're surprised, looking at Polnareff as is he was crazy, but slowly their shock is replaced with amusement. Joseph doesn't even try to hold back his laughter, while the rest of the crew is trying to keep it cool as not to embarass you any further while the Frenchman is just going on and on with his declarations of undying love. It's a bit dramatic, one of these moments that you will probably laugh about in the future, but you felt like disappearing right then and there.

"Your drawing are magnifique! [Y/N], my love, if you wanted to draw me, you could've just said so! Although I don't think I deserve to be potrayed by you, to be drawn by your skilled hands, ma cherie!"

You snatch the sketchbook from him. After that incident you probably try to avoid him, but he won't give up! He's more determined than ever, knowing that you feel the same way as he does fills him with hope, hope for a future life with you that is! He won't give up until he makes you the happiest woman on earth.

[kmclaude]

Forgive me Father, I have no awful headcanons for you, only a general question on comic making. How do you do it, writing-wise/how do you decide what points go where, how do you plot it out (or do you have any resources on the writing aspect that you find useful?) Not to get too bogged down in details, but I attended a writer’s workshop and the author in residence suggested I transfer my wordy sci-fi WIP into graphic novel script, as it might work better. (I do draw, but I don’t know if I have it in me to draw a whole comic—characters in motion? Doing things? With backgrounds? How dare, why can’t everyone just stand around looking pretty)

I was interested but it quickly turned into a lot of internal screaming as I tried to figure out how to compress the hell out of it, since novels are free to do a lot more internal monologuing and such compared to a comic format (to say nothing of trying to write a script without seeing how the panels lay out—just for my own sake, I might have to do both concurrently.)

As an aside, to get a feel for graphic novels I was rereading 99RM and was reminded of how great it was—tightly plotted, intriguing, and anything to do with Ashmedai was just beautifully drawn. I need more Monsignor Tiefer and something something there are parallels between Jehan and Daniel in my head and I don’t know if they make sense but it works for me. (As an aside, I liked the emphasis on atonement being more than just the word sorry, but acknowledgment you did wrong and an attempt to remedy it—I don’t know why that spoke to me the way that it did.)

I thought Tumblr had a word count limit for asks but so far it has offered zero resistance, oh well. I don’t have much else to say but on the topic of 99RM, Adam getting under Monsignor’s skin is amazing, 10/10 (about the Pride picture earlier)

wow tumblr got rid of the markdown editor! or at least in asks which means the new editor probably has no markdown....god i hate this site! anyway...

Totally! So first, giant thank you for the compliments! Second, I have a few questions in turn for you before I dive into a sort of answer, since I can give some advice to your questions in general but it also sounds like you have a specific conundrum on your hands.

My questions to your specific situation are:

did the author give any reason for recommending a, in your words, "wordy" story be turned into a graphic novel?

is the story you're writing more, like you said, "internal monologuing"? action packed? where do the visuals come from?

do you WANT it to be a comic? furthermore, do you want it to be a comic you then must turn around and draw? or would you be interested in writing for comics as a comic writer to have your words turned into art?

With those questions in mind, let me jump into the questions you posed me!

Let me start with a confession...

I've said this before but let me say it again: Ninety-Nine Righteous Men was not originally a comic — it was a feature-length screenplay! And furthermore, it was written for a class so it got workshopped again and again to tighten the plot by a classroom of other nerds — so as kind as your compliments are, I'm giving credit where credit is due as that was not just a solo ship sailing on the sea. On top of that, it got adapted (by me) into a comic for my thesis, so my advisor also helped me make it translate or "read" well given I was director, actor, set designer, writer, editor, SFX guy, etc. all in one. And it was a huge help to have someone say "there is no way you can go blow by blow from script to comic: you need to make edits!" For instance, two scenes got compressed to simple dialogue overlaid on the splashpage of Ashmedai raping Caleb (with an insert panel of Adam and Daniel talking the next day.) What had been probably at least 5 pages became 1.

Additionally, I don't consider myself a strong plotter. That said, I found learning to write for film made the plotting process finally make some damn sense since the old plot diagram we all got taught in grammar school English never made sense as a reader and definitely made 0 sense as a writer — for me, for some reason, the breakdown of 25-50-25 (approx. 25 pages for act 1, 50 for act 2 split into 2 parts of 25 each, 25 pages for act 3) and the breaking down of the beats (the act turning points, the mid points, the low point) helped give me a structure that just "draw a mountain, rising action, climax is there, figure it out" never did. Maybe the plot diagram is visually too linear when stories have ebb and flow? I don't know. But it never clicked until screenwriting. So that's where I am coming from. YMMV.

I should also state that there's Official Ways To Write Comic Scripts to Be Drawn By An Artist (Especially If You Work For A Real Publisher As a Writer) and there's What Works For You/Your Team. I don't give a rat's ass about the former (and as an artist, I kind of hate panel by panel breakdowns like you see there) so I'm pretty much entirely writing on the latter here. I don't give a good god damn about official ways of doing anything: what works for you to get it done is what matters.

What Goes Where?

Like I said, 99RM was a screenplay so it follows, beat-wise, the 3-act screenplay structure (hell, it's probably more accurate to say it follows the act 1/act 2A/act 2B/act 3 structure.) So there was the story idea or concept that then got applied to those story beats associated with the structure, and from there came the Scene-by-scene Breakdown (or Expanded Scene Breakdown) which basically is an outline of beats broken down into individual scenes in short prose form so you get an overview of what happens, can see pacing, etc. In the resources at the end I put some links that give information on the whole story beat thing.

(As an aside: for all my short comics, I don't bother with all that, frankly. I usually have an image or a concept or a bit of writing — usually dialogue or monologue, sometimes a concrete scene — that I pick at and pick at in a little sketchbook, going back and forth between writing and thumbnail sketches of the page. Or I just go by the seat of my pants and bullshit my way through. Either or. Those in many ways are a bit more like poems, in my mind: they are images, they are snapshots, they are feelings that I'm capturing in a few panels. Think doing mental math rather than writing out geometric proofs, yanno?)

Personally, I tend to lean on dialogue as it comes easier for me (it's probably why I'm so drawn to screenwriting!) so for me, if I were to do another longform GN, I'd probably take my general "uhhhhhh I have an idea and some beats maybe so I guess this should happen this way?" outline and start breaking it down scene by scene (I tend to write down scenes or scene sketches in that "uhhhh?" outline anyway LOL) and then figure out basic dialogue and action beats — in short, I'd kind of do the work of writing a screenplay without necessarily going full screenplay format (though I did find the format gave me an idea of timing/pacing, as 1 page of formatted script is about equal to 1 minute of screentime, and gave me room to sketch thumbnails or make edits on the large margins!) If you're not a monologue/soliloque/dialogue/speech person and more an image and description person, you may lean more into visuals and scenes that cut to each other.

Either way this of course introduces the elephant in the panel: art! How do you choose what to draw?

The answer is, well, it depends! The freedom of comics is if you can imagine it, you can make it happen. You have the freedoms (and audio limitations) of a truly silent film with none of the physical limitations. Your words can move in real time with the images or they can be a narrative related to the scene or they could be nonsequitors entirely! The better question is how do you think? Do you need all the words and action written first before you break down the visuals? Do you need a panel by panel breakdown to be happy, or can you freewheel and translate from word and general outlines to thumbnails? What suits you? I really cannot answer this because I think when it comes to what goes where with regard to art, it's a bit of "how do you process visuals" and also a bit of "who's drawing this?" — effectively, who is the interpreter for the exact thing you are writing? Is it you or someone else? If it's you, would you benefit from a barebones script alongside thumbnailed paneling? Would you be served by a barebones script, then thumbnails, then a new script that includes panel and page breakdowns? What frees you up to do what you need to do to tell your story?

If I'm being honest, I don't necessarily worry about panels or what something will look like necessarily until I'm done writing. I may have an image that I clearly state needs to happen. I may even have a sequence of panels that I want to see and I do indeed sketch that out and make note of it in my script. But exactly how things will be laid out, paneled, situated? That could change up until I've sketched my final pencils in CSP (but I am writer and artist so admittedly I get that luxury.)

How do I compress from novel to comic?

Honest answer? You don't. Not really. You adapt from one to another. It's more a translation. Something that would take forever to write may take 1 page in a comic or may take a whole issue.

I'm going to pick on Victor Hugo. Victor Hugo spent a whole-ass book in Notre-Dame de Paris talking about a bird's eye view of Paris and other medieval architecture boring stuff, with I guess some foreshadowing with Montfaucon. Who cares. Not me. I like story. Anyway. When we translate that book to a movie any of the billion times someone's done that, we don't spend a billion years talking at length about medieval Paris. There's no great monologuing about the gibbet or whatever: you get to have some establishing shots, maybe a musical number, and then you move tf on. Because it's a movie, right? Your visuals are right there. We can see medieval Paris. We can see the cathedral. We can see the gibbet. We don't need a whole book: it's visually right there. Same with a comic: you may need many paragraphs to describe, say, a space station off of Sirius and one panel to show it.

On the flip side, you may take one line, maybe two, to say a character keyed in the special code to activate the holodeck; depending on the visual pacing, that could be a whole page of panels (are we trying to stretch time? slow it down? what are we emphasizing?) A character gives a sigh of relief — one line of text, yeah? That could be a frozen panel while a conversation continues on or that could be two (or more!) panels, similar to the direction [a beat] in screenwriting.

Sorry there's not a super easy answer there to the question of compression: it's a lot more of a tug, a push-pull, that depends on what you're conveying.

So Do I Have It In Me to Write & Draw a GN?

The only way you'll know is by doing. Scary, right? The thing is, you don't necessarily need to be an animation king or God's gift to background artists to draw a comic.

Hell, I hate backgrounds. I still remember sitting across from my friend who said "Claude you really need to draw an establishing exterior of the church at some point" and me being like "why do you hate me specifically" because drawing architecture? Again? I already drew the interior of the church altar ONCE, that should be enough, right? But I did draw an exterior of the church. Sorta. More like the top steeple. Enough to suggest what I needed to suggest to give the audience a better sense of place without me absolutely losing my gourd trying to render something out of my wheelhouse at the time.

And that's kinda the ticket, I think. Not everyone's a master draftsman. Not everyone has all the skills in every area. And regardless, from page one to page one hundred, your skills will improve. That's all part of it — and in the meantime, you should lean into your strengths and cheat where you can.

Do you need to lovingly render a background every single panel? Christ no! Does every little detail need to be drawn out? Sure if you want your hand to fall off. Cheat! Use Sketchup to build models! Use Blender to sculpt forms to paint over! Use CSP Assets for prebuilt models and brushes if you use CSP! Take photographs and manip them! Cheat! Do what you need to do to convey what you need to convey!

For instance, a tip/axiom/"rule" I've seen is one establishing shot per scene minimum and a corollary to that has been include a background once per page minimum as grounding (no we cannot all have eternal floating heads and characters in the void. Unless your comic is set in the void. In which case, you do you.) People ain't out here drawing hyper detailed backgrounds per each tiny panel. The people who DO do that are insane. Or stupid. Or both. Or have no deadline? Either way, someone's gonna have a repetitive stress injury... Save yourself the pain and the headache. Take shortcuts. Save your punches for the big K.O. moments.

Start small. Make an 8-page zine. Tell a beginning, a middle, an end in comic form. Bring a scene to life in a few pages. See what you're comfortable drawing and where you struggle. See where you can lean heavily into your comfort zones. Learn how to lean out of your comfort zone. Learn when it's worth it to do the latter.

Or start large. Technically my first finished comic (that wasn't "a dumb pencil thing I drew in elementary school" or "that 13 volume manga I outlined and only penciled, what, 7 pages of in sixth grade" or "random one page things I draw about my characters on throw up on the interwebz") was 99RM so what do I know. I'm just some guy on the internet.

(That's not self-deprecating, I literally am some guy on the internet talking about my path. A lot of this is gonna come down to you and what vibes with you.)

Resources on writing

Some of these are things that help me and some are things that I crowd-sourced from others. Some of these are going to be screenwriting based, some will be comic based.

Making Comics by Scott McCloud: I think everyone recommends this but I think it is a useful book if you're like "ahh!!! christ!! where do I start!!!???" It very much breaks down the elements of comics and the world they exist in and the principles involved, with the caveat that there are no rules! In fact, I need to re-read it.

Comic Book Design: I picked this up at B&N on a whim and in terms of just getting a bird's eye view of varied ways to tackle layout and paneling? It's such a great resource and reference! I personally recommend it as a way to really get a feel for what can be done.

the screenwriter's bible: this is a book that was used in my class. we also used another book that's escaping me but to be honest, I never read anything in school and that's why I'm so stupid. anyway, I'd say check it out if you want, especially if you start googling screenwriting stuff and it's like 20 billion pieces of advice that make 0 sense -- get the core advice from one place and then go from there.

Drawing Words & Writing Pictures: many people I know recommended this. I think I have it? It may be in storage. So frankly, I'd already read a bunch of books on comics before grabbing this that it kind of felt like a rehash. Which isn't shade on the authors — I personally was just a sort of "girl, I don't need comics 101!!!"

Invisible Ink: A Practical Guide to Building Stories that Resonate: this has been recommended so many times to me. I cannot personally speak on it but I can say I do trust those who rec'd it to me so I am passing it along

the story circle: this is pretty much the hero's journey. a useful way to think of journeys! a homie pretty much swears by it

a primer on beats: quick google search got me this that outlines storybeats

save the cat!: what the above refers to, this gives a more genre-specific breakdown. also wants to sell you on the software but you don't need that.

I hope this helps and please feel free to touch base with more info about your specific situation and hopefully I'll have more applicable answers.

[aeonghaseyo]

Your Trace, My Treasure

Summary: Marc and Nathaniel write and draw, respectively, on each others' notebooks because it's DEFINITELY a couple thing to do.

Word Count: 2105 AO3 link

Relationship/s: Nathaniel Kurtzberg/Marc Anciel Category: M/M Characters: Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Marc Anciel, Alix Kubdel (mentioned), Marinette Dupain-Cheng (mentioned), Juleka Couffaine (mentioned), Rose Lavillant (mentioned), Alya Cesaire (mentioned) Language used: English Author's Note: The creators of MLB really need to give the side characters screen time. The love square isn't the only romantic set of ships in the show and there are much more cute ships to write about. And so in my first time of writing a Miraculous Ladybug fanfic, it's about a ship that's entirely not part of the love square. This is my final workshop output from a creative writing class I enrolled in during the summer to get units in advance. Special thanks to my professor and two of my classmates for their feedback; I couldn't have made this work even more wonderful without their help. For the non-love-square ship and this being a successful workshop output thus far, I think I'm gonna give myself a pat on the back and more fanfic ideas to write. :)

Compared to the courtyard at Françoise Dupont High School where the lively chattering of students can be heard and the scrambling of footsteps were a staple, the art room was its own entire world of silence.

It was supposed to be a calming silence in that same art room where Marc and Nathaniel were to work on art-related endeavors of their own, but the former found this unwelcoming and rather deafening. It weighed down on his being that the atmosphere was unbearably awkward, much like he was most of the time even before he met Nathaniel and became his partner in creating comic books about Ladybug, Chat Noir, and their akumatized alter-egos who turned good and served as part of the superhero duo’s akuma-fighting team. Despite a remarkable development from being acquaintances, to newfound partners, and now to a bloomed romantic couple, Marc Anciel, as awkward as ever and still testing the waters on this newfound relationship, couldn’t shake this nagging feeling of inadequacy as someone’s significant other.

It just goes to show him that even though his romantic feelings for Nathaniel had been reciprocated at Day 0, it does not remove the remaining unease that Marc currently feels at Day 1. It was his first time in a relationship, and it was with the boy whose drawings he admired so much from the school paper. Simply put, it was too good to be true.

Unfortunately, the awkwardness Marc felt wasn’t masked enough, and Nathaniel immediately noticed from his place by the table beside his raven-haired beau. How could he not? It was very obvious, from the way Marc’s hand shakily distorted his usually refined, elegant script while writing the next chapter of their comic to the way his expression was contorted as if he was constipated. Nathaniel thought to himself that it was still an adorable sight, but clearly, something was up, and it wouldn’t do well to just ignore whatever troubled his beloved partner. Attempting to break the ice, the redhead cleared his throat, then spoke to call Marc’s attention.

“Marc.”

The novelist jolted in surprise at the utterance of his name. “Y-yes, Nathaniel?”

Leaning in for a better view of the page Marc was writing on, Nathaniel replied, “Your handwriting’s different.”

“W-wait, really?” blurted out Marc, quickly covering the page with his gloved hand. “I d-didn’t know you were p-particular with handwriting.”

Nathaniel placed a gentle, caring hand on his boyfriend’s with a smile aimed directly at him as he clarified himself, “It’s not that, Marc. I’ve seen it and it’s great. Right now, it just looks… wobbly. You’re nervous, aren’t you?”

Even if Nathaniel was a recluse in his own class, he could very well read into the emotions of people, but he doesn’t show it that often. As endearing as it was as a show of concern towards shy Marc, it was also overwhelming for the raven-haired novelist to have been the subject of such deep perception, even from the boy his heart palpitates for.

It was then that Marc’s fight or flight response reminded him in a split-second that he needed some sort of diversion for Nathaniel not to remind him of his own awkwardness.

“Isn’t it weird that our art teacher didn’t come here?” Marc rapidly questioned as he struggled not to look at the red-haired boy beside him. Despite this attempt to keep Nathaniel’s focus off of his disposition, glancing towards the door and not at Nathaniel did not help stop the blood from rushing to the novelist’s fair cheeks. His partner might be tired of this, of him, already, but that light chuckle of pure amusement coming from Nathaniel disproved that thought.

“Hey, hey, settle down Marc,” chided Nathaniel, “he might be running late. It’s okay for us to use the art room so long as it’s reserved around this time. Good thing that he reserved it at an earlier time than usual.”

With innocent green eyes, the raven-haired boy looked his boyfriend in the eye and asked, “H-he can do that?”

“Of course, he can. Let’s just wait for him, okay?” reassured Nathaniel, his left hand making its way on Marc’s right shoulder discreetly. “I’m sure my other classmates will arrive here shortly too.”

A shy smile emerged from Marc’s face as he replied, “Okay, Nath.”

Suddenly, a ringtone from the phone which was in Nathaniel’s pocket sounded audibly enough to catch both the boys’ attention. The redhead immediately fished out the device from his pocket and unlocked it, revealing three unread text messages from his close friend Alix.

Hey Nath! Something came up and I couldn’t swing by the art room. Love troubles again with Marinette. Juleka and Rose are also helping out with me so they can’t come.

I can’t believe that Marinette got invited personally by Adrien to his photoshoot but she can’t even give him her handmade gift or ask him out. Because she’s such a wuss, I got dragged here in the park by Rose because Mari needs all of her girl friends to push her towards Golden Boy Agreste YET AGAIN.

And apparently Alya alone couldn’t do it. Sorry! You’ll have Marc to keep you company anyway. Have fun! ;)

So much for those girls coming over to the art room. Nathaniel let out a sigh as he muttered, just enough for Marc to hear, “I stand corrected. The others aren’t coming.”

Catching on his partner’s crest-fallen demeanor and gazing at his face with sympathetic green orbs, Marc replied, “Guess it’s just the two of us for now.”

The next minutes were spent in silence again, with Marc continuing to finish a paragraph while Nathaniel sketched a bird’s eye view of the Eiffel tower as the background in one panel of the comic storyboard in his notebook. After several minutes elapsed, however, curiosity got the best of Marc, and so, with the tip of his pen lingering on the period of his last sentence, he kept on glancing at Nathaniel and the storyboarding he was working on. Besides the sheer focus that was evident in Nathaniel’s turquoise orbs, the shy novelist couldn’t help but notice the fine, steady strokes his beau’s hand were making with his fine-pointed mechanical pencil. So neat, so pristine. It’s amazing how he didn’t need an eraser to erase certain portions of his drawings over and over.

Marc had seen artist sketches himself of both people and objects, mostly done by his friend Marinette. As someone aspiring to become a fashion designer, she would be engrossed in sketching designs day by day, passion ignited by the sparks of inspiration she draws from around her. However, since Marinette’s sketches had obvious hints of disorder, as it normally is with crude artist sketches, it clearly contrasted with the otherwise structured sketches Nathaniel makes for his comic books. Marc, fully in awe, couldn’t help but take a break from his writing and stare at the red-haired illustrator’s creative process right next to him.

Meanwhile, Nathaniel, thanks to the strong, overbearing feeling of being watched, was getting overly conscious of his work. Keeping his composure to the best of his ability, he quickly turned to Marc and asked, “Do you need something Marc?”

Snapped out of his trance wide-eyed, Marc inwardly panicked. ‘Oh no, I must be staring at him too long! I hope I didn’t spook him too much.’

Scrambling for a sensible response, the novelist stuttered out, “I-i want to write something in your notebook.”

Setting down his pencil while his turquoise eyes were still on Marc, Nathaniel blinked inquisitively. “Oh, why would you want to do that?”

“B-because,” the shy writer reasoned, “I want to write something to remind you of me. T-that is, if y-you don’t mind.”

The red-haired teen averted his gaze from his partner as he remarked, “You know I don’t let anyone write on my notebook, Marc.”

This response triggered the disappointment that Marc had anticipated from the moment that they started continuing to develop the rest of the comic book they were working on together. It was even more daunting for the timid writer that their art teacher and the rest of Nathaniel’s classmates who were usually in the art room with them did not show up at that moment, or even at all. Marinette would tell Nathaniel that it’s a great idea for his newfound love to leave special traces on his personal notebook while Rose, somehow finding this romantic, would gush at this gesture with Juleka mumbling to herself in response. But what would have been the cherry on top for Marc at the moment is that if Alix was there to egg on Nathaniel, pressuring him to give in and let his boyfriend write something in his notebook. At least the comic relief from Alix’s teasing would help alleviate the collective awkwardness the couple felt at that moment. God, if only it wasn’t just the two of them in the art room at that moment.

But alas, he was alone, helpless and daunted, and he was facing the dragon which was Nathaniel, or whatever Nathaniel thought of him at that moment.

However, all of the fears and doubts that plagued Marc left him when Nathaniel continued with a small, endearing smile on his face, “But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

The novelist beamed at his boyfriend, green eyes sparkling with delight. “R-really?”

“In one condition.”

Marc took and held in a quick breath. “Anything, Nath.”

The illustrator picked up his pencil once again and uttered, with an outstretched hand right by Marc’s notebook, “Let me draw in your notebook.”

It was at that moment when Marc could feel his heart flutter, accompanied by the butterflies in his stomach as he opened his own notebook to the very last page and laid it out right by his beau’s workspace.

“It would be my pleasure.”

In a span of 2 minutes while Nathaniel was drawing on the last page of his boyfriend’s notebook, Marc, fidgeting and tapping his pen softly on his chin, racked his brain for a simple yet memorable piece to write on the first page of the illustrator’s notebook, which was left empty out of personal preference by its owner. Hoping to obtain bit by bit of inspiration, he glanced at Nathaniel, then at the empty page, then at Nathaniel, and so on and so forth. This went on, albeit unnoticed by the redhead, until mere seconds after, he scribbled away on the page once he had gotten attuned with his creative writing flow.

After both of them finished leaving their traces on each other’s notebook pages, Nathaniel and Marc gave each other back their notebooks and instantly opened them to where they each left their special mark. Struck with awe, the novelist softly traced the outline of the drawing and his emerald eyes were drawn to Nathaniel’s signature which he left underneath the recently drawn portrait. A tinge of pink formed on Marc’s cheeks as he admired every stroke that constituted this drawing of him done by none other than the boy he once looked up to, now loved, and who loved him back.

“No one’s written me a poem before,” Nathaniel uttered as he perused every line written by Marc on that now extra special page in his notebook, eyes taking in every word written in that distinct elegant script that served as an epitome of beauty that the redhead beheld. One particular line at the end of the writing, however, caught him by surprise: the words ‘Je t’aime’ accompanied by Marc’s signature in that same fancy handwriting the illustrator adored dearly.

Having regained his composure, Marc turned to Nathaniel and asked, “Do you like the poem? I-i thought of it on the spot so it might not exactly be to your liking, but-”

“I love it,” interrupted the red-haired teen breathlessly, wrapping an arm around his significant other and squeezing his shoulder. “Really Marc, you make the most wonderful written pieces.”

An expression as bright as day graced Marc’s features as he replied, albeit with a bit of shyness in his voice, “Y-you really think so?”

Nathaniel threw any single hint of hesitation in his being out the window as he placed a tender, loving kiss on Marc’s forehead. “I do. We’re meant to be partnered together, after all.”

And just like that, the uncomfortable awkwardness that haunted Marc was instantly warded off, and in a flash, he enveloped Nathaniel in a tight, warm, loving embrace and leaned into him in newfound solace. The silence in the art room has never been this comforting as the couple relished in this seemingly endless embrace together.

[shoichee]

Hello! Can I perhaps ask for no. 28. “Make me” from your prompt list for my beloved Imayoshi? It's so nice seeing him here on your theme and avatar and that pERFECT url, it feels like I finally found my people.

HELLO HELLO, and YES I WAS SO SURPRISED THAT NO ONE TOOK THIS URL... considering that it was just an alternative spelling of shoichi and its a rlly short handle too mwehe // im sort of a particular person when it comes to how something looks, whether itd be outfits, drawings, coloring, and the UI of a blog, u name it.... i may have spent hours trying to have the perfect colors for this theme PLEASEEEE, but without further ado here is our man, our little shit, Imayoshi

@knb-kreations howdy! another new work posted here!

Imayoshi x Reader

28. “Make me”

Word Count: 2331

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

Imayoshi doesn’t exactly know how he feels about you.

Scratch that, he does know. He’s quite amused at the shenanigans you pull on others around you, and a lot of times, you actually elicit a few dry laughs out of the guy. Other times though, he’d wish that you would just shut the fuck up, especially when all he hears amidst his studying was your loud “whispering” and “hushed” jokes. How you were always nearby no matter where he is was still a mystery that he casually ponders about from time to time. Perhaps your natural tendency to project your voice creates the illusion that you were near when you really weren’t?

No matter, such trivial thoughts can’t occupy his mind when college entrance exams loom closer. Then again, they weren’t particularly difficult; they were simply a hassle to secure near-perfect scores, especially when his chances of admittance rely critically on how well he does.

“That’s an awful drawing of a samurai,” Susa comments, snapping Imayoshi out of idle thought.

“Ho? Is it really terrible if you were able to tell what it is?” Imayoshi chuckles. “The point of a drawing is to convey the right idea or emotion. It seems that my drawing skills hit a bulls-eye with this sketch, no?” He playfully spins his pencil around, patiently waiting for his reply to goad him.

All Susa does in response is to roll his eyes before he turns his full attention back to his notes. He knows better than to try a comeback against Imayoshi, who can easily make it backfire against the person with a pleasant close-eyed smile. Imayoshi, seeing Susa’s nonverbal resign from engaging further banter, also looks down back to his book of scribbled notes and chicken-scratch drawings before he exhales an inaudible sigh.

School just doesn’t cut out to be mentally stimulating for him. It’s a little too repetitive and mundane for his taste.

“Argh!! Oh no!” your voice rang out, despite your poor attempt to be reasonably quiet. “I forgot applications for the Coca-Cola scholarship are due today!”

Coca-Cola… what?

Everyone looks up to warily eye you, and your few friends, who are currently rushing to pull you down and slap their hands over your mouth to mute you, were panicking at the new attention you managed to garner. Even still, your mind seems more fixated on whatever was on the laptop’s screen, rather than what they were doing to you.

Imayoshi can’t help but stifle his audible mirth from how you manage to change the mood of the entire library within seconds.

“How do you even forget something as important as a huge scholarship like that?” Susa says in dismay. “Makes me kind of wonder how (l/n) would handle life after graduation, to be honest.”

“Well,” Imayoshi begins. “I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s best not to underestimate (l/n)-san. Surely we’ve learned our lesson with Seirin?” He toys with the pencil grip before he sporadically draws some lines loosely resembling another sketch.

“Drawing again?” Susa raises a brow. “Have you even been studying?”

“Well,” he replies. “There’s still plenty of time before exams—months to be exact. Could you even study with the current distractions in here?” At his own words, he nudges his chin in your direction.

“It’s not just any exams though, it’s—”

“Whether they have more importance or not doesn’t really concern me. After all, standardized testing isn’t worth stressing out for when we’ve taken essentially the same thing all our lives.”

“What most are worried about is the content inside the exams, Imayoshi,” he said, carefully treading into dangerous waters with Imayoshi’s tendency to take all replies as mind-game challenges for his own amusement.

“‘If you have been paying attention consistently throughout the year, you wouldn’t be having much trouble…’ that’s what you once oh-so-wisely said to Wakamatsu yesterday, hmm?” His mimicking tone drips a hint of arrogance. “Unless you mean to tell me my ears do not work? But by all means, please feel free to correct me.”

“That’s different,” he sighed, his face clearly evident that he was done with Imayoshi’s shit. “That exam only tested content for the past year, not your entire academic repertoire over the courses of middle and high school.”

“I’d like to think that the logic still applies the same way.”

“Well,” Susa heaves with a languid stretch. “You generally score better on the exams than me, so you’re probably right. Still, don’t neglect your studying.”

“Right, right, Susa-senpai~”

“... Please don’t call me that again.”

“... If you say so,” he said, but his smile blatantly showed his real intentions of never stopping his irritable quips. Susa gets ready to pack up his book bag before he heads out the door with a friendly wave. Imayoshi half-heartedly returns the gesture with a casual wave of his own. He immediately notices you also packed up and about to leave with a worried frown, and of course, while audibly mumbling your concerns and makeshift schedules to accommodate time for last-minute essay writing. By now, all of your friends have left for home.

“Ah, biology lab due next week, kanji worksheets due tomorrow, hmm, um, how would I finish this on time… ah, calculus test is tomorrow too, ah shit… should I ask someone to tutor?—ah, but it’s super last minute, and there’s still that scholarship… argh, fuck!” Your voice peaked in volume at the end, and the librarian immediately shot daggers at you.

“Shhhhh!”

“A-Ah! S-Sorry, sorry!”

Imayoshi was watching you with his chin on his arm propped up on the desk, unable to control the smile that escaped his lips. You really were entertaining to watch, and you never cease to bore him.

He turns away to crack his neck and roll it around before methodically packing up his writing utensils and notebooks. Soft shuffling filled the air as he rearranged the items inside his bag. As he turns to pack the last thing on the table, which happened to be the notebook filled with his idle doodling, his face slightly softens at the drawing he did after the samurai. Yes, the one Susa chastised him for when he could’ve been studying. Yes, perhaps he was right when he was terrible at drawing after all; your panicked face and wild hand gestures didn’t really translate well into paper, and it looked a little too much like a horror comic and less than a sketch of you. Still, he’s oddly proud of it.

Imayoshi promptly pushes the chair in and leaves the library, but when he rounds the corner of the adjacent hallway, he bumps into you.

“Er—hi! I mean, please, uhhh… if it isn’t too much to ask—canyoupleasetutormeforthecalculustesttomorrowbecausemyfinalgradedependsonthat?”

Imayoshi winces at the sheer volume of your voice and plugs his ears in out of habit to block out some of the decibels. Wakamatsu was eerily similar to you in that regard. Only difference between the two of you was that you were deceptively intelligent. Extremely so.

“My, my, if it isn’t (l/n)-senpai!” He fakes a surprised look, earning him an eye roll on your end. “You need someone like me to teach you the works?”

“I—what? We’re literally in the same calc class, Imayoshi,” you retort. “Besides, drop the ‘senpai’ honorific. It feels so slimy when you say it so disingenuously… Aren’t we both 3rd years too?”

“I’m so hurt,” he mocks. “What if I was really genuine with you?”

“Look, right now, no remarks from you, Evil Glasses,” you say. “It’s really, really urgent and I don’t know how to grasp the material for the class lately, plus my essay, ugh…” You rub your fingers against your temples in an attempt to make the stressful headaches disappear while Imayoshi simply watches with his eyes slightly open.

“... You usually do well on all your exams, no? Unless my eyes and memory fail me.” It was true; even though you were as loud-mouthed as Wakamatsu, you would often shock a lot of people when your name always appeared in the higher percentiles of exam results. Apparently most students and teachers associate your rowdy personality with an expected subpar academic performance. He has you to thank for when your score reports always cause reactions of utter disbelief from the teachers. You really do liven up the school and make it a lot more unorthodox.

“I guess…” you mumble. “But I really wanna do especially well for this one because math is my weakest subject, and you always score the highest for these types of exams, so…”

“It may be my best subject,” he says, leaning slightly closer to your face. “But I’m not the one with the highest scores in any math subjects throughout these years, and we both know that quite well, don’t we, (l/n)? Why don’t you come clean about the real reason why you’re here?”

“Oh my literal fuck—Imayoshi, you’re one of the best students in calc right now regardless of exam results,” you petulantly huffed, not backing down from his intimidation. Imayoshi notes your cheeks reddening, and he figured it was either because of the close proximity between your faces or the fact you were frustrated… perhaps both. “And you’re the only one around here on campus who I could ask!”

“Really now,” he chimes, moving closer to whisper in your ear. “Are you sure?” With incoherent stammers, you backed away from him, slapping your hands against both of your ears to protect them.

“W-W-What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Looks like I won this one, (l/n)-san,” he purrs, relishing the fact that only he could render you this quiet. “Ho? What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“I—Shut up!” you lamely shoot back. “You can just say no if you really don’t wanna do this—urgh, I’m leaving, I’m not gonna waste any more time—”

“How hurtful,” he dryly remarks, standing up straight again after leaning for a quite a while. “It’s almost as if you’re rejecting me~” He knew you would always take his bait and quip back (unlike Susa), regardless of whether or not you tell him that you weren’t going to engage further.

“As if,” you snorted, making another exaggerated eye roll. “You’re the last person who would ever be hurt from this.”

“Dear me!” he exclaims. “Have you ever considered that perhaps I don’t help out people for free? Did you think I would be a gracious, selfless person who would help you like a saint?”

“Okay, fine! Perhaps I didn’t think that far ahead, okay? You just were the first person that came to mind, and I thought asking you wouldn’t hurt.” His smirk widens almost maliciously at your words, lips already opening to deliver another irritating quip before you immediately spoke again to stop him. “Okay, Imayoshi, you little shit, just shut up—I don’t wanna hear anything from your mouth right now.”

“I don’t see any reason why I should listen to you at all,” he muses. “Why don’t you make me?” He has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, eagerly eyeing your next move, and as he expected, you let out a frustrated noise that prompted passerby students to shoot pointed looks towards the both of you.

What he didn’t expect was for you to take a huge step towards him, unceremoniously pull him down to your level, and press a reverberating smack on his lips. His eyes are immediately blown wide open to look at your embarrassed, but determined face. His fingers unconsciously move to touch his warmed lips.

“... That was quite romantic, wasn’t it, (l/n)?” he dryly says, recovering almost immediately from the shock. All the other students fled from the blatantly bold scene to save face. Not that Imayoshi really cared.

“Okay, you know what? Bye, I’m not gonna play anymore mind games with you,” you grumble. “Essays and studying aren’t gonna be done by themselves—wah!”

Imayoshi gently tugs you back to reciprocate back a kiss, meticulously slipping his hands behind your head and on your waist to accommodate you. Your eyes are completely open from the shock that the Imayoshi Shoichi was actually kissing you. You don’t close your eyes from the sensation, completely entranced when you make eye contact with his half-lidded eyes watching your every reaction closely. The kiss ended all too soon, and Imayoshi separates himself from you, secretly admiring your dazed look.

“That was quite a strong reaction to just a simple kiss.”

“I—that was not just a ‘simple kiss!’”

“Now would you like to tell me the true reason why you approached me?”

“You’re… insinuating that you know something.”

“Well we wouldn’t know unless you come clean,” Imayoshi purrs. “I can sometimes be wrong too.”

“Ugh, what the hell—fine, I am quite enamored by you, and uh, I… find it infuriating to be with you, but it also gives me butterflies… so I thought I could be with you more… if I asked you—don’t get it twisted, though! I still need your help to study!...” He covers his mouth to suppress a laugh at your honesty.

“Was it really so hard to say that in the beginning, (l/n)-san?”

“Okay, that’s it! I’m really, really leaving! Fuck off, Imayoshi, I swear to—”

“Ho? Just a minute, darling~” he tuts, reaching to hold your hand. “Perhaps if you offer more kisses as an incentive, I’d be more inclined to offer my expertise.”

“How quaint,” you dryly reply. “It’s almost as if we’re in a relationship.”

Imayoshi can’t help but bark out a genuine laugh. You even managed to pick up some of his mannerisms so quickly.

“That’s an interesting proposal, (l/n),” he murmurs. “Should we try that?” You tut at him irritatedly as you tug your interlocked hands while speed-walking ahead.

“Hurry up, or I’ll consider breaking up with you right now.”

“Ah ha!~” he chuckles at your attitude. “How mean, (l/n)-san! Too bad that we both know that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

[levihantrash]

new chapter update!

Summary:

Levi’s pragmatism pulled the brakes. “I’m not about to dedicate my life to become a broke comic artist.”

Levi Ackerman, a gruff cleaner with an appetite for toilet humour meets the unabashedly friendly creative writing professor, Hange Zoë, who somehow ropes Levi into working on a comic with them. While the comic’s title remains undecided, Hange knows that it’s going to be set in a world where giant, human-like creatures devour other humans. Erwin Smith, the comic’s self-appointed editor, unironically thinks it’s going to be a hit. All Levi knows is that he wants to indulge in drawing this comic while hanging out with a certain writer who just won’t stop talking to him.

Where Hange, Levi, and Erwin are the creators of Attack on Titan.

Chapter 1: Free Bread

Chapter 2: New Friends

Like routine, Levi found himself waiting for a certain professor to show up. When Erwin called out to him, he couldn’t help but search behind the tall, imposing figure.

“I haven’t seen Hange this morning either,” Erwin said. Levi found himself irritated by Erwin’s discernment and by his own discrete uneasiness.

“Good morning, Erwin,” Levi greeted, nonetheless.

Hange was late, which Levi figured wouldn’t be out of the ordinary.

The morning passed without a single sign of Hange.

“Sorry, are you Mr. Levi?” A nervous-looking person approached him, holding on to a well-wrapped steamed bun. A twinge of hope stirred in Levi.

“Levi will do,” he said.

“Dr. Hange said I should pass you this,” the bread-holder blurted out.

Levi’s gaze softened. “Where’s Hange?”

“Oh! She’s rushing a deadline and insisted that I pass you this bread.”

The inexplicable rush of relief made Levi dizzy as he grasped the bread limply. “Huh. Sorry that you have to be an errand boy today.”

“It’s no trouble!”

“Who are you?”

“Sorry! I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Moblit, their teaching assistant! Dr. Hange helps me out with my master’s thesis because they’re my advisor. This is just my way of saying thanks. Dr. Hange also treats me to meals, gives me detailed comments for my work… though they might go overboard when it comes to giving speeches about the importance of world-building and honing your craft, it’s inspiring how dedicated they are in what they do.”

Moblit took a deep breath, making up for lost air in between the lengthy, whole-hearted sentences.

“Is that so…” Levi said, suddenly contemplative. “Do you want some tea?”

“Are you getting it from the staff pantry?”

“No, that stuff’s stale as shit. I have better tea, wait here.”

Levi recalled Erwin asking him in front of everyone in the staffroom if he wanted the staffroom snacks. Hange followed up, speaking at a volume that was clear enough for most of the staff to overhear, orchestrating a deliberate conversation with Erwin.

“Since there are no hard rules as to who the snacks and drinks are catered for, and technically, Levi is a staff member, he should have access to the snacks!”

None of the professors objected. It was probably because open prejudice would be socially unacceptable, Levi thought.

Begrudgingly, he accepted Erwin’s offer, and in full view of everyone, took a candy bar.

Hange gasped. “Just one?” Levi glared at them.

“Aren’t the snacks for your little sister?” Hange asked. He nodded, sensing the collective spike in sympathy for him in the staffroom.

After the whole stage, the trio huddled conspicuously in a corner outside the staffroom.

Hange whispered to Levi, “You could have played along better!”

“Erwin’s tired of your skit,” Levi said, overwhelmed and annoyed at the turn of events.

“No he’s not!” Hange said sternly, before gulping down half a bottle of water.

Erwin, standing in between them, told Hange to keep it down.

“Thanks, you two.” Levi found himself staring at the floor, embarrassed that his two friends had to construe him as a pitiful character for him to get a few snacks, even though he had been informed of the plan prior.

“I’m sorry, Levi,” Hange said, their lips compressed into a hard, grim line. “It’s ridiculous that you can’t even get snacks and refreshments as part of the staff.”

“I’m used to it.”

“If anyone’s giving you a hard time, you have us,” Hange said, still put off.

They squared their shoulders impressively. “Right Erwin?”

“You can rely on us, Levi,” Erwin surmised, equally sombre.

Growing more ruffled by their declarations, Levi hissed, “I don’t need two bodyguards.”

“No, you definitely don’t,” Hange joked. “Some people have told me about the deathly aura you emit that I must have missed…”

Fixing their attention at a vague distance, Hange’s playful jibes dwindled into an idle pondering, “I wonder if you found some joy in our companionship at least.”

They’re talking about joy and friendship again… Levi thought.

He found himself back in the present, handing a cup of black tea to Moblit, guiding him towards a bench.

Moblit squeaked out, “Thank you!”

“How did you find me?” Levi asked, betraying none of his real curiosity.

“Hange gave me a description…” Moblit began, not making eye contact with Levi.

“Did they? What’s the description?” Knowing Hange’s brand of humour, Levi braced himself.

Moblit shuffled in his seat, terribly reluctant. “They said to look out for a cold, black-haired man with an undercut, wearing an apron, gloves and brandishing a mop while scolding people to not step on wet floors.” Levi made a mental note to strangle Hange.

Moblit quickly supplemented, “You’re not actually cold though!”

“How would you know that?”

“Um… you’re offering me tea?”

Levi clicked his tongue. “That’s a low bar for human decency. You should have higher standards.”

“You’re right, Mr. Levi… I mean Levi.”

Levi noted Moblit’s jittery manner when he briefly checked his phone for a message and let out a small groan.

“Hey, you look worried sick. You didn’t receive a death threat, did you?”

Moblit laughed weakly, running his hand through his hair. “Uh, you see, I’m one of the editors for the bi-annual literary magazine and we’ve been looking for illustrators…”

“I take it that you haven’t been successful?”

“Yes… I just received someone’s rejection. It’s okay, we’ll find one,” Moblit said, although his panicked lip-biting ran contradictory to his optimistic statement. Levi’s hands twitched again. He folded them promptly into his apron pockets.

Upon finishing the tea, Moblit stood up and gave a tiny, polite bow. “It was nice meeting you Levi. Thanks for listening and for the tea!”

“Good luck,” Levi said, in time before Moblit rushed off.

Bagging up the rubbish, Levi heaved the load on his shoulder easily, only to be startled by the appearance of Hange.

“Fuck! Can you stop jumping out of nowhere?” Though momentarily disconcerted, the tension built up from the day unwound instantaneously, leaving his body loose and feeble.

“Levi! Did you shit yourself?” Hange sang. They accidentally bumped into the gigantic rubbish bag, falling butt-first onto the ground, phone in hand.

“Be careful,” Levi said, in the same monotonous voice he used regardless of the situation. Unless the situation involved Hange leaping out of nowhere. He looped his free arm under their armpit to pull them back up. Hange, flushed from running, placed their phone in his hands with ill-contained excitement.

“Look at what I found!”

“Oi, what’s this—” Levi scanned the phone, his mouth running dry.

“I’m going to recruit this artist. For my comic.”

It was a sketch of a cat being patted by a person with messy, tied-up hair, their hands stroking its head.

“Don’t you think the person looks familiar? Isn’t the cat cute… remember how I told you I have one at home?” Hange released their brown hair from a voluminous ponytail, biting the rubber band in their mouth.

He swallowed. “I drew that.”

Hange’s mouth hung open. “You’re kidding!”

“Do I look like I make such shit jokes?”

“Personally, I find your shitty jokes very funny. This is exciting news! Why didn’t you tell me you’re an artist when I was trying to find one for my comic?”

Levi found her question preposterous. “You could easily find a better one. I’m inexperienced.”

“I’m also an inexperienced writer. I barely wrote one book and a few articles!”

“You’re a professor. You have the title for a reason. I just draw for fun.”

Hange spared him a baffled look. “Please. You have no idea how many great writers never become professors. And how some professors never write great books. I thought you of all people would know that a title doesn’t mean anything.”

“I thought you of all people would know that titles hold their value here, even if we think they’re stupid and don’t mean shit.”

“I know that, Levi. I’m saying, drawing for fun doesn’t make you inexperienced or unworthy of being the artist for my comic. Besides, I chose you before I even knew it was you!” Hange said triumphantly.

Locking the phone screen, Levi reiterated, “I draw for fun.”

“Then this will be our fun project!”

Levi’s pragmatism pulled the brakes. “I’m not about to dedicate my life to become a broke comic artist.”

“You won’t be broke.” Erwin slipped into their conversation as though he had always been there. It was uncanny.

“What do you mean?” Levi stared questioningly at Erwin.

“You’ll be paid for your work, Levi. Hange as well,” Erwin said simply.

“You’re paying us?” Hange and Levi asked, in unison. One, in disbelief, and the other, in delight.

“A publisher will be paying you. I’ve secured funding.”

Levi gritted his teeth. “A publisher wants to sponsor a comic that hasn’t even been written?”

“I told you, Levi,” Hange interrupted. “I’ve already submitted a draft!”

“Yes,” Erwin said.

Levi had so many questions. “How?”

“Because it’s a good story.”

“Did you bribe them? Threaten them?”

“It is a risk,” Erwin admitted.

“It’s a fucking gamble,” Levi emphasised. “Don’t know why you’re so invested in this comic.”

Hange had other worries. “Levi, did you think I wasn’t going to pay you?”

Levi hesitated. “I don’t know. Isn’t this just a fun side-project?”

Hange’s face came closer to his. With the enhanced proximity, Levi stopped breathing altogether. Their face was deadly solemn.

“Listen, Levi, creating art is hard work. Your hard work. Any artist deserves to be paid. It’s not because our relationship is transactional. It’s because it’s only right.”

Erwin added, “We’re not going to accept your art for free.”

Pushing Hange back firmly with his hands on their shoulders, Levi argued, “Plenty of people have access to my art online for free.”

“That’s your choice. We insist.” Hange grinned. “And we think we deserve to be paid too. Even I’m surprised that my project has early compensation.”

Part of Levi’s resolve ebbed away. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good enough for me!”

“First, you have to tell me what your story is.” Levi gathered up the last of his self-respect. “And if we’re going to be working together, I’ll need your number.”

Erwin raised an innocent eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you need mine too?”

“Stop teasing him, Erwin,” Hange said, grabbing the rubbish bag from Levi, struggling to balance its weight over their shoulders.

Just as Levi felt a shred of gratitude, Hange remarked, “What if he doesn’t agree to do the comic together?”

Patience running thin, Levi stomped on both their feet in a fit of unrestraint that diverged from his unaffected demeanour.

Eyes twinkling, Hange couldn’t help but feel immense glee at the prospect of working with Levi. What was probably Levi’s withheld strength made them certain that he only wanted to dirty their shoes, not bruise their toes. Like Hange would care about the cleanliness of their battered sneakers.

In front of an ordinary apartment door, Hange dug into the depths of their bag to fish out a ring of keys. The size of the ring was unprecedentedly big; the choice of keychain most definitely random, a freebie handed out to new staff that blatantly displayed the university’s name.

Without that much bribery of tea, bread, and friendship, Levi found himself standing beside Hange as they busied themselves in finding the key to their apartment. Erwin had bailed due to having another Important Meeting with Important People, even during a weekend, but encouraged Hange and Levi to take time to discuss the comic.

Hange hadn’t expected Levi to agree so readily to kickstarting the project, and with the generous reception Levi gave (a curt nod and a follow-up question), they thought it’d be best if they invited him over to their apartment. Just so he wouldn’t mistake Hange as a mere business partner. Now that would be upsetting.

Hange pushed the ludicrous speculation out of their head. Levi was first and foremost, a good friend. His bored appearance revealed glimpses of surprise, satisfaction, moodiness, and suspicion. Hange held on to these pieces with the determination to collect them all. Surely, Levi must have figured them out by now. This endless, unabashed interest Hange had taken in him.

“Why are we meeting at your place? Do you need to take a huge shit? Does the toilet at home have a better flush?”

Although Levi had no qualms about visiting Hange’s apartment, he found it unnerving to have a work discussion in someone’s living quarters. It felt too intimate, too casual. He wasn’t sure if he could handle being sucked in further into Hange’s life. They asked so many questions, yet barely answered any about themselves.

Whether intentionally or not, Hange was someone shrouded in mystery to Levi. He couldn’t ask questions either—he wouldn’t—because he was unaccustomed to expressing himself in front of people. More than that, he could envision Hange’s sharp wit poking a clean hole through his muted facade. “You’re interested in my life, Levi?” Damn that four-eyes for being so perceptive. Or was he so easy to read?

“It’s more fun,” Hange said, eventually stuffing the correct key into the keyhole, a smooth click welcoming them. “Plus, I want to introduce you to my friends! Part of the reason why I took up the position at this university.”

“Friends?” Levi asked, slipping out of his shoes to step into the apartment.

“Hange!” A voice rang, and Hange was wrapped in a hug.

“Onyankopon! I saw you yesterday—”

“Three days ago, to be exact, since you always sleep over on the lovely desk at the university.” A smooth voice entered, coming from a woman standing comfortably against the wall.

As the tallest body let go of Hange, it allowed Levi to take in the congenial features of a man whose shoulders rivalled Erwin’s towering, well-built stature. While Erwin’s smile was measuredly cordial, Onyankopon’s was candidly sincere. Watching Hange and Onyankopon, Levi felt as though he were intruding into a family reunion that had invited the entire neighbourhood. Here, he was the guest who came for the free flow of food and drinks.

“I’ve missed you too Pieck!” The woman named Pieck ruffled Hange’s hair, offering them an embrace.

Hange pulled Levi by the elbow, pointing to the new people. “Meet my roommates and college friends, Onyankopon and Pieck!”

“Hi,” Levi said, uncertain as to what else he could affix his terse greeting with. Hange resolved that predicament for him, going into further details about their friends.

“Onyankopon is a researcher and engineer! I can’t tell you the technical specifics of what he does, though, I always get them wrong. Oh, and he’s religious, but he won’t try to convert you.” Onyankopon nodded, affirming Hange’s unflattering introduction.

“Pieck… Pieck is a gardener, florist, and avid gamer! That’s why she’s always bent over, whether it’s tending to her plants or her high score in front of the monitor.”

“It’s not why I need the crutches though,” Pieck said. Hange squeezed her shoulders in response.

“Seems like my friends are all nerdy. Maybe that’s why I like them?” A sheepish smile graced Hange’s lips.

Onyankopon gestured towards Hange, imitating their dramatic flourish. “And this is Hange Zoe, the nerdiest of them all. Obsessed with words. Recently obsessed with science fiction. They’re always reading or writing, and once they start on something, their butt doesn’t leave the chair.”

Levi’s eyes flitted around the apartment—it was relatively tidy, with a couple of framed photos and artworks. A blanket on the couch made it homely enough. His inspection didn’t miss Hange’s notice.

“Like what you see?”

“It’s neat,” he replied.

“That’s a compliment!” Hange took care to disclose this to their two friends.

“All your previous partners don’t take off their shoes, Hange. I hope he isn’t one of those.” Pieck said, using their crutch to relocate Hange’s haphazard shoes to a corner, flipping them the right side up. Levi liked her already.

“That’s gross,” Levi said apathetically, wiping away the horrifying image of dirt-smeared carpets and tiles creeping into his consciousness.

“He’s very clean, don’t worry,” Hange said easily. “Some might even say it’s his obsession.”

“I’m the cleaner at the university.” Onyankopon and Pieck turned towards Hange with patented disapproval.

“Levi, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I think we’ll make good friends,” Pieck said, bemused.

Hange beamed at Levi. “You’ll love Pieck! She’s really quiet most of the time, just like you. Not to mention she pretends that she hates me. Just like you.”

“Good to know,” Levi said, enjoying the banter a bit too much.

“Hange says she’s going to get you to draw me, as a titan,” Pieck said, evidently sceptical.

“What’s a titan?”

“The giant, naked people I told you about, Levi! They’re called titans!”

“Why are they called titans?”

Hange landed on the sofa with a plop, patting the seat beside them for Levi to sit. “In Greek mythology, titans are immortal giant gods who were banished to the underground.”

Levi, who had little knowledge of Greek mythology, made a mental note to search for references online.

“Therefore, the titans are kind of like vengeful giant gods from the underground who have come to earth to wreak havoc on what the gods have built, which is human civilisation, basically.”

“Basically, I am wonderful enough to be titan-material,” Pieck drawled, propping their crutch at the side of the couch, sliding onto the cushions.

“A special titan that walks on all fours! Um, that’s the plan for now,” Hange said brightly.

Onyankopon, who had been content with listening, clapped his hands together in sudden realisation. “Hange, now that you’re finally home, you can take a shower.”

“I should, right?” Hange scratched their head, feeling the slickness of unwashed neglect.

Levi crinkled his nose as Hange reluctantly made their way to the bathroom. “That’s disgusting.”

“And here you are, still.” Pieck’s amiable statement prickled at his skin like a light warning before impending exposure.

“Hange must really want to make a good impression if they’re showering now,” Onyankopon said, chuckling to himself.

“It’s good to finally meet you.” Onyankopon pushed a newly made cup of tea towards Levi, with the steady confidence that could only come from having known prior that it was the beverage that Levi would desire. “Make yourself at home.”

Levi said his thanks, to the hospitality of two people he scarcely knew, and to Hange, who likely told them about the tea.

Cold water blasted them in the face, as Hange became cognizant of the necessity of showering more regularly. It wasn’t like they thrived in the dirt. Hypothetically, showering wasn’t that troublesome. The shower kept forgetting itself until it was three days later and Hange stank with regret and mild self-loathing. Still, the shower felt good, giving them new clarity about the fact that they had invited Levi into their inner social circle. How would he fare? Would he be uncomfortable? Hange massaged shampoo into their hair, recalling their conversation with Pieck and Onyankopon.

After much elaboration on adapting to a new university, their visits to an amazing bakery, and the fostering of daily encounters with new friends, Pieck had caught on that every other sentence from Hange contained a sliver of Levi-sized anecdotes. The new university was so much bigger than the one Pieck, Onyankopon, and Hange had attended together; it stretched endlessly, and Hange estimated that Levi would have walked 393700.7874 steps to clean just the faculty building. The bakery near the university was fragrant, its selection marvellous, and choosing a new bread for Levi every day was a tremendously delightful task. Moreover, Hange had met so many unique characters since getting to know the people in their faculty, people like Levi whose abhorrence for social etiquette was admirable, and with whom she was eager to share their mornings and lunches. Together with Erwin, of course.

Pieck let out a tinkle of a laugh at Hange’s obliviousness. “Why are you friends with Levi?”

Thinking hard, Hange answered, “I don’t know if he thinks of us as friends.”

“Well, friendship status aside, how’s he like?”

“He’s kind. He doesn’t sound like it, but he’s kind.”

“That’s nice. How’s he kind?”

Confusion coloured Hange’s usual confidence. “Hmm. It’s gut-feeling, I guess.”

“That’s unlike you, to rely solely on instincts,” Onyankopon said, stroking his chin. Hange was a person with an abundance of rationale, a reason for everything, with justification for any ideas. Their reasoning this time fell flat.

Pieck prodded on. “You said that he doesn’t sound kind. Then what does he sound like?”

“Grumpy, sarcastic, serious. He looks like he’s annoyed with everyone. Most people find him scary, I suppose? It’s like he wants people to think he’s an asshole.”

Pieck perked up. “Oh, so you’ve become enamoured with broody, misunderstood people who’re rough around the edges?”

“Pieck, come on, I’m not writing my own romantic trope! I don’t know… he’s a good person. I can tell. He doesn’t say much though.”

“You’re a mind-reader now?”

Hange ignored her. “His art… it’s so evocative. Melancholic. Hopeful. Angry.”

“What was the artwork you last saw of his?”

“A cat,” Hange said immediately.

Onyankopon brought Hange back to reality. “What about him? What do you like about him? Not his art.”

Hange pursed their lips. “Do good people need to prove themselves to show that they’re good?”

“There could be reasons as to why you’re so adamant about his golden character,” Onyankopon said.

“He’s reliable. And his shit jokes aren’t so bad once you get used to it.” Hange surprised themselves with that comment—Levi’s relentless toilet humour was infecting their brain. The corrosive force of the word “shitty” had already moulded itself permanently into their vocabulary.

Gazing up at the ceiling, Hange bent their arms behind their head. “It’s hard to find people to truly get along with.”

Onyankopon and Pieck shared a knowing look.

With their eyes trained to the white ceiling plaster, Hange mumbled on, “it would be nice if he’d talk more openly about what he’s feeling. It’s all guesswork and I’m afraid I’m constantly reading him wrong.”

“Maybe you should take your own advice…” Onyankopon said gently.

“But I do talk about my feelings!”

“Monologuing in your room and reposting vague lines of poetry and sending us memes to cope with your avoidance is not the same as talking about your feelings,” Pieck said, spending the subsequently long moment of silence to snip off a yellowed leaf from the potted Monstera deliciosa next to the kitchen counter.

“Wow.” Hange, for once, had nothing to muster.

Onyankopon’s approach was less incisive than Pieck’s. “You know, I don’t think you need a reason to be friends with someone. If he’s making you happy, I think it’s a good sign.”

“Thanks, Onyankopon,” Hange said gratefully.

“But Pieck’s right about you being deliberately evasive with your own emotions. Introspection shouldn’t be so strenuous, right? Don’t you write about your characters’ internal turmoil often?”

“It’s different when you’re reflecting for yourself,” Hange contended.

“We’ll see how Levi’s like anyway, when we meet him,” Pieck said, grabbing the scissors, going towards another deadened leaf.

“Don’t bully him!”

Another snip. Another leaf fell. “Isn’t he supposed to be scary?”

Hange smiled wryly. “But you two are scarier.”

[gamebunny-advance]

I’m Feeling Saucy...

Time to post some *really* old NSR/Desynchronized comic sketches.

I’m putting them under a readmore because they’re *especially* bad and weren’t posted for a reason, but I feel like the only way I ever look at my old sketches is if I post them. So hopefully doing this will motivate me to actually finish one of these.

Contains Potential Spoilers For: 1010 Desynchronized

“Mug”

From a comic about Kerinting breaking one of Kliff’s mugs by mistake. I never got the layouts down for this one (that’s gonna be a running theme for most of these). I don’t think I ever finished the script for this one because I think it’s way too sappy, but I’m scrapping it anyway because I don’t want to write White as being physically abusive anymore.

Captions:

Kliff: I mean, yeah. I liked that mug, and now I have a mess to clean up.

Kliff: But I’m not going to hit you over it. It was a mistake.

Kerinting: I made a mistake... but I’m not being punished?

Kliff: Hey, this isn’t an inviation to break all my mugs. Just be careful next time.

------

“Untitled”

This is from one of the earlier rewrites of Desynchronized B Plot. Since I’m scrapping that version, I can talk about it a bit more.

Since I scrapped the original kidnapping plot for being in bad taste, the new idea was that during an unauthorized getaway into the city, Kerinting got separated from the main group and wound up in the trash (in most versions of that script, they accidentally got caught up in a fight, but since 1010s can’t retaliate against humans while in civilian mode, Kerinting became the distraction to let the others escape, but he didn’t make it out).

Coincidentally, on the same night, Kliff was coming home from a night of drunken karaoke and had noticed him in the trash. Joey (his neighbor) had forced him to go out since Kliff had gotten extremely depressed after the events of the game and had just been moping around his apartment for the past month or so.

Thinking it was just a bootleg that was tossed and against his better judgement, Kliff takes Kerinting home with the intention of gutting him for parts. The following day, Kerinting was able to reactivate himself, shocking Kliff who had no idea that Kerinting was a genuine 1010.

There are two different routes that I wrote for this version of the incident:

One was that Kliff just tells Kerinting to leave, but Kerinting refuses to since he was out past curfew: any 1010 not back home by a certain time will be destroyed, no questions asked.

The other was that Kliff physically takes Kerinting back to Barraca mansion, but gets into an argument with NJ about it, causing them both to flee back to Kliff’s place.

In either scenario, Kerinting is essentially abandoned by the others and is taken in by Kliff out of pity/spite. In most versions, this backstory was revealed through a conversation with Joey. Joey was actually a lot more prominent in earlier versions since he more or less served as the “voice of reason” to the other two’s nonsense. He might still be, but I haven’t thought of many other scenarios where he’s really “needed”.

Captions:

Joey: So... this thing...

Joey: Just lives with you now?

Kliff: Yep.

Joey: And you’re okay with that?

Kliff: It wasn’t my choice to make.

----------

“Routine”

I really liked the idea of a comic comparing and contrasting what the daily routines of the Green 1010s were now that Kerinting is living with Kliff.

Despite how bad they are, I do feel like the scribbles speak for themselves about what’s going on. But I did want to make an aside about how they sleep: In earlier drafts Kerinting just slept next to a cabinet in the living room because it’s visible and doesn’t take up much space (Kerinting used to stay in Kliff’s closet, but he kept getting scared by him). In more recent stories he sleeps in a suitcase next to the cabinet. The other 1010s sleep in what I call a “standing bed”. It’s a dock that they hook into so they can charge and upload their memories for the day. In earlier drafters this had to be done physically instead of being remotely uploaded.

----------

“Memories”

One of my “dream pieces” is to draw “Kliff’s Photo Album” where he keeps all of the pictures from his younger days. Top left would have been him and young!NJ. Bottom left is NJ recieving letters/gifts from his classmates before he gets shipped out. Top mid-right is a young!Tatiana. Below that was supposed to be Kul Fyra. Far right was a strip of one of those photobooth things with all 3 of them.

I had an idea for a comic where he takes one of those with Mayday & Zuke in one of the Sayu Photobooths as a celebration of him helping them take down one of NSR’s artists. When he came home, he would have put that one with the ones he took with Tatiana and NJ all those years ago. I might still do that one day because I still think it’s a cute idea, I just don’t think I can execute it that well XP.

----------

“Pet”

I think I’ve posted the script for this one already, though I’m not sure which one would have been the most recent iteration.

Anyway, this comic is mostly about Kliff comparing the ways that Kerinting behaves more like an animal than a full-fledged human. The 1010 AI is fairly advanced, but it’s still very predictable.

Captions:

Voiceover Kliff: It likes getting treats.

Kliff: Here, I found another mixtape for you.

Kerinting: Yay! Thank you!

Voiceover Kliff: It needs constant affection or it gets lonely.

Kliff: You did good today! *pat pat*

Kerinting: Really? I did good today?

Voiceover Kliff: It’s good at learning new tricks.

Kerinting: I cooked it just like you taught me!

Kliff: Yep. Looks good.

Voiceover Kliff: And no matter what it does, I can’t stay mad at it because it’ll hit me with those [puppy dog eyes].

Kerinting: I’m sorry. I broke it again.

----------

“Daddy”

I’m pretty sure I’ve talked about this before, but it’s a personal joke that 1010 calls anyone who even vaguely has some authority over them “Dad”, including each other. NJ is a dad for obvious reasons. DJSS is a dad because he’s dating NJ. Kliff is a dad because he helped design the MKI OS. And I don’t think I had considered it at the time of writing this one, but they call Tatiana “Dad” too because she’s NJ’s boss.

Captions:

Kliff: How many “dads” do you things even have?

White: There’s the Captain, you, DJ Subatomic Supernova, and me.

Kliff: What do you mean “me”?

White: I’m a first gen 1010, so that makes me their dad.

(White is an upgraded MKI. Red & Blue are upgraded MKIIs. Yellow & Green were born as MKIIIs.)

[demigodsanswer]

valgrace fic request for something with a confession?

((Set in a canon-divergent timeline where Jason doesn’t die, but still gets stabbed. Also Jason and Piper, in this, know that Leo is alive. There isn’t actually a confession in here, really, because the story got away from me, so, sorry about that. 

TW/CW for mentions of blood, injury, and vomiting)) 

~*~*~*~

When Jason woke up, all he felt was the overwhelming pain and pressure emanating from his chest. He tried to open his eyes, but the lights in his room nearly blinded him, sending sharp shooting pains back into his head. All he could do was groan and close his eyes again. The top half of his body felt like it was on fire. He couldn’t feel the lower half. 

He felt someone squeeze his hand. It took most of his strength, but he managed to squeeze back. Jason tried to open his mouth to ask who was there, but his throat swallowed the sound. All he could do was lay there, and hope whoever was holding his hand recognized how thirsty he was. 

“You alive, Sparky?” 

Leo. Jason would have smiled if he had the energy. He would have jumped on his best friend if he could. He and Piper had gotten word of Leo’s survival a few weeks ago, but they hadn’t seen him yet. Now, he was in Jason’s hospital room, holding his hand. Jason wanted to smile and hug his friend, but his body wouldn’t let him. Instead, he settled for squeezing Leo’s hand again. 

Leo made a noise that sounded like a laugh mixed with a yelp, before he dropped Jason’s hand. Jason heard his footsteps moving around the room, before returning to his bedside. Jason felt one of Leo’s hands, unnaturally but not uncomfortably warm and calloused slip behind his neck to prop him up just a bit. 

“Here,” Leo offered him a spoon. The warm nectar tasted like vegan tacos. While it gave him enough energy to move his head a bit more, it didn’t do much to quench his thirst. 

“Water?” Jason managed to choke out. 

“I’m on it,” Leo promised. He returned a minute later with a toddler cup with handles and a plastic straw. After Jason had swallowed down as much as his stomach could handle, he finally managed to ask Leo to dim the lights. 

Once Leo assured him that the lights were basically off, Jason managed to slowly open his eyes, taking a look at his best friend since his near-death experience. 

“It’s good to see you,” Jason said. “I can’t believe you’re alive.” 

“I could say the same thing about you,” Leo said. 

“What -?” 

Leo held up a hand to cut Jason off, before explaining the story. Jason remembered being stabbed (even if he didn’t, he was well aware of it now), but he didn’t remember much else. Piper had used charmspeak to get his blood flow to slow way, way down. Apollo called on Zeus to help, but they still can’t tell if Zeus did anything. Probably not, Jason thought, or I’d be a tree right now. 

“Calypso and I came as soon as we heard,” Leo said, “you’ve been out for days.” 

“Piper?” Jason asked. 

“She had to go to Oklahoma, but she was here, dude, everyday with me. She left you a card to read when you have the strength.” Leo paused. “She wants you to know that she’s sorry, and that she did everything she could to try and save you.” 

Jason nodded. “When do they think I’ll be able to get out of this bed?”

Leo looked at Jason confused, his eyes scanning Jason’s busted body. “Dude, you can barely open your eyes. You still have a lot of healing to do.” 

Jason leaned back and closed his eyes again, but not because he felt like he had to. “I figured. Everything hurts.” 

“A spear went right through your chest. You’re lucky it didn’t hit your lungs or your heart. You’re lucky Piper -” 

“Yeah, she’s the best.” He tried to keep his voice happy, but he could tell he didn’t succeed. 

“She told me what happened between you two. Sorry.” Leo said. He picked up the sippy cup and headed to the sink to refill it. Jason noticed it was shaped like Mikey Mouse, big round black ears decorated the top where the straw poked out, the body was dressed like Mickey’s shorts. Jason briefly laughed at the idea that he was drinking Mickey’s insides, but the macabre image reminded him of his own injury. He suddenly remembered what it looked like to see a spear poking out of his own body, what it felt like. He was suddenly too aware of the pain in his chest and the blood on it. He felt overwhelmingly nauseated. He tried to lean over the bed, hoping to find a trashcan, but there was nothing. The twisting only worsened his pain, and his eyes flashed with white light, before he gagged on himself. There wasn’t enough food in his stomach to produce anything other than water and bile, though. 

When the pain subsided, he realized that Leo was gently rubbing his head, his body close to Jason’s. He had quickly held up a clean bedpan to Jason’s chin, keeping him clean. 

Jason’s throat burned, but he felt okay enough to lay back down. Leo offered him some sips of water and nectar, which Jason accepted, hoping he’d keep them down.  

“You’re bleeding,” Leo said, “let me go get the medic.” Before Jason could say anything, Leo was out the door, and Jason was asleep again. 

When he woke up hours later, Leo was still there, asleep in the chair next to the bed. Jason sat up slightly, careful not to distress the wound dressings, the IV, or any of the other vital tubes keeping him alive. 

He still couldn’t feel much of his lower body when he shifted. He tried moving his legs, but they felt somehow too heavy and too light, like they were asleep from being still for too long. 

“Leo?” Jason said, his voice barely a whisper. “Leo?” He managed a little louder. 

Leo stirred, waking up slowly at first, and then all at once when he saw Jason moving. 

“Do you need anything?” Leo asked, quick to help him. 

“No, I’m okay. You don’t need to stay here all night, though.” 

Leo smiled sadly, “’Course I do. I don’t want you to be alone here.” 

Jason nearly blushed. “Come on, I’m sure Calypso misses you.” 

“Might want to hedge your bets on that one. That little love story didn’t exist so well outside the magic love island.” 

Jason furrowed his brow. “You guys broke up?” 

Leo nodded. “It’s uh .... well ... she wasn’t right for me.” Leo’s ears were pink, so Jason decided not to push the question too much. “Anyway,” Leo said, perking up again, “I want to show you something.” 

Leo pulled out a clipboard with some sketches on it. Jason wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at; Leo had drawn out a few different models of legs, some realistically human, some bionic. “They’re just some ideas. I’ll improve them once I can get to some real blueprints.” 

“What are they for?” Jason asked. Leo’s ears went red again. 

“What?” 

“Are you writing a comic or something?” 

Leo looked at Jason, confused and concerned. He looked around the room, like he was hoping to find someone else who knew what was going on. 

After a moment he took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck before saying, “I guess you didn’t know yet? Sorry, I shouldn’t have ... I mean ... not like ...”

“Leo?” 

He took a deep breath. “It’s like I told you. Piper had to slow your blood flow way, way down, and keep most of it going to your vital parts until they could get you help. That meant taking the blood from somewhere else and, well, they figured you needed your hands more, so ...” He trailed off, but Jason understood. 

He tried to sit up and pull the blankets down off his lap, but he couldn’t move that far. 

“Here, I’ve got it,” Leo said, pulling them down for him. Jason rested back, finally understanding why he couldn’t feel his legs. They were both gone. The left one was off at the hip, the right one was off at the knee. Jason ran his fingers over the bandages, trying to understand it. When he pressed down on what was left, he could swear he felt it in a foot that wasn’t there. 

“But don’t worry, I’m gonna fix you up. You’re gonna be like Robo Cop or some shit,” Leo said, forcing a laugh to try and break the tension. Then. his voice got soft again. “You’re going to be okay. We’re all here to help you. We’re just so happy you’re alive.” He wrapped his arms around Jason’s shoulders, and pulled him in close, trying to be as gentle as he could be. Jason grabbed onto Leo’s arm, and pulled him in closer. Jason buried his face in his friend’s arm, and started to cry, which only made the pain in his chest worse, which only made him want to cry harder. 

Leo didn’t say anything, he just held him for a while. 

Finally, Jason felt himself starting to calm down. He pulled away from Leo, who pulled the blanket back up over Jason’s lap. 

“I wish Piper was here,” Leo said, sitting down in the chair, “she’s always been better at this kind of stuff.” 

Jason reached his hand out to Leo, who took it, scooting his seat closer. “I’m so happy you’re here.” Leo blushed again, and Jason felt himself blush too, but he didn’t know why. “You are enough. Thanks for being here for me.” Leo smiled. “Plus, I’m super lucky. Who else has a friend who can make them Robo Cop?” 

Leo’s smile widened. “You know, I was wondering: do you want to be taller? Because I can make you taller.” 

“Taller than Frank or Percy?” 

“I can do that,” Leo promised. 

Jason squeezed his hand. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.” 

“Well you let me know. I can do anything.” 

“I know you can.” 

Jason’s head started to feel heavy again, and he could feel himself starting to drift. Leo offered him another spoon-full of nectar to help him sleep and heal, which he took gratefully. 

“You need to get some rest too,” Jason said. 

“I will,” Leo promised, settling into his chair, “I’ll just also be here when you wake up again.” 

Jason smiled, closed his eyes, a drifted back to sleep. 

[roggenmuhme]

Exam Season

The Diamonds x Reader Summary: As the semester draws to an end, finals are approaching and you struggle to balance studying and your relationship with the Diamonds. Wordcount: 4.3k More than open to criticism; this is my first time writing in years and I’m ESL, so I’ll take everything I can get.Feel free to chat me up on discord and on here … I'm happy to exchange sketches and wips, I got plenty! imbutahumblefarmer#5583 "You guys, I'm fine!"

It was your third time saying this exact same sentence while White Diamond strained herself to take up the whole screen in front of you. 

Coupled with an awkward laugh, everyone would have figured out that you were lying by now. Everyone except for the Diamonds, of course.

They were a strange trio; completely unrecognizable from when you first had met them. In the place of the terrifying space dictators who had tried to squish you like a bug at Garnet's wedding were now three socially inept women with too much free time and nothing to do. 

And they were endearing in their own way. Just like now.

An exasperated sigh could be heard through the connection, the screen whisked away by large, yellow hands. (White's stunned gasp was pointedly ignored, however.)

Yellow Diamond's face appeared in full on your little gemtech tablet, a curious Blue peeking over her shoulder. Her features were rough as always, one could be quick to assume that she was bored, but you knew better. 

By the way her eyes narrowed, she didn't buy your shtick at all. A cool, calculated gaze met yours and you prepared yourself for the scolding that was about to come.

"... If you say so", her answer sounded oddly clipped, even for her. 

Letting out a deep breath, you tried your best to smile at her and you could feel how fake it looked. Yellow just blinked at you, a hand leisurely supporting her cheek.

"Haha, yeah", you said in another attempt to calm them. They barely understood what university was, and if they caught wind of you being miserable, they would come and flatten your faculty. Or something. You didn’t want to deal with that. “It’s all over in two weeks, then I can come over… if I pass, that is”, you mumbled the last part under your breath, mentally freaking out a little. Only two weeks left … it felt like forever and nothing at all at the same time. “Two weeks?! That’s so long!”, White’s whine sounded off-screen, prompting Yellow and Blue to give her curt look, Yellow’s face contorting for a split second. “Are you serious?”, you had to suppress the laugh that bubbled in your throat. Whatever they did, they always put you in a better mood, intentionally or not. “You guys are thousands of years old, this should be like a minute for you, theoretically.” Yellow blinked at you again, her full attention shifting back to you. “We are aware. But every moment without you is torture.” This time, you laughed for real. Despite Yellow’s deadpan, she could be the cheesiest one of them at any given time. “Guys…!”

“Oh, but it’s true!”, Blue’s soft brogue interrupted your fussing. Yellow turned the device to face her, giving you two a moment. “You know we love you”, she smiled at you. You could feel yourself melting at the sight. “I miss you, I really do. I’ll get Steven to warp me to you immediately after the last exam, I promise.” It was the most you could do and it would already complicate things. But you couldn’t stand to see them like this. This seemed to be enough for Blue at least. She gazed at you in silence for a moment and nodded. With a flurry of colors, your eyes were burned by White’s pouting face again. “If you must, but not a second longer!” You sighed, grinning at her. “Of course.” A gaze at your wrist watch nearly made you recoil in horror. It was way too late already and you still had to do some revisions on unit 23! “Anyways, I really have to sleep now. Y’know, my organic needs and all...” You were a bad liar, but it did the trick on White. She looked like a moping child after their toy had been taken away. She made the most disappointed, dramatic noise while pushing the device from her to give you a look at the others. Blue gave you a little wave, still smiling sweetly. “Okay guys, I’ll call you the day after tomorrow, alright?” They nodded in unison, biding their goodbyes. Before you could switch your screen off, Yellow opened her mouth for one last message. “If anyone is giving you trouble, tell us.” With a hasty bow of your head and one last wave, you pressed the off button, your room now considerably darker again.

Your wrist watch beeped. Back to work.

Nervously tapping your pencil on an old worksheet, you tried to figure out a way how to solve the problem - you didn’t understand it back when you discussed it in class and you still didn’t understand it now. Your wrist watch gave a short beep, your signal to call the Diamonds in fifteen minutes. The break was more than welcome, maybe thinking about something else would give you a fresh eye. Tugging at your hair with a hairbrush, you hummed absentmindedly. You hadn’t really done anything today or yesterday that was worth reporting, but that never stopped the diamond’s from calling you. They simply did the talking themselves. Checking your appearance one last time in the mirror, you gave yourself a satisfied nod. Your eye bags had seen better days, but there was nothing you could do about it right now. Your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, stark white light coming from your window. Turning your head comically slow to the source, you had a gut feeling who this could be. One of White Diamond’s eyes peaked excitedly into your studio apartment. It widened when you gave a hesitant wave. Your gut was right. “Hello, starlight!”, her voice was loud, too loud for 10 pm on a weekday. If the sudden arrival of three giant aliens didn’t get you in trouble, this would. When you didn’t answer, she brought a nail to the glass, impatiently tapping it. You were lucky it didn’t shatter on impact. “Darling”, she sang. “Come out, we came all the way to see you!” You had to shake yourself out of the trance you were in - you knew how clingy and protective they were, but this was new. Making your way to your window, you could already hear the noise rising in your neighbor’s apartment. Great. You just hoped they wouldn’t terminate your lease for this. When you finally opened the window, White’s massive hand plucked from the ground and plopped you into her other one. Indeed, all three stood in your parking lot, now hunched over to get a better look at you. “Hi guys”, you squealed, straining your neck to meet their eyes. Three faces beamed back at you, their total lack of situational awareness really showing. “Instead of calling you, we decided to visit you instead! A nice surprise, isn’t it?”, proclaimed White proudly as if she had just solved all of mankind’s problems single handedly.  Blue and Yellow nodded enthusiastically next to her. You probably should be mad, but how could you? “Look, I really appreciate this”, you sighed. “But we really have to go somewhere else - people are already waking up. And it might get me in trouble.” That got you a collective ‘oh’ out of them. “Where is the ship anyway?”

You didn’t know how they managed it, but they had found an empty space large enough for the leg-less space giant. Apparently, they had walked the rest of the way and without damaging anything at that. You felt a little proud. The mental image still made you chuckle. “Okay guys, why did you come in person?”, you crossed your arms, while they sat around you in White’s head. “I thought we had a deal - I call you every 48 hours, you stay on Homeworld.” Blue and White evaded your eyes at your scolding tone, but Yellow held your gaze steadily. 

"It was fairly obvious that you were not well at all despite your insistence otherwise",  she offered her hand for you to climb on, and you did. "You have to take care of yourself, you are very fragile."

Now it was your turn to avoid her stare, feeling guilty. She was right, but you just didn't have the time. There was so much material to go through, so much to memorize. What could sleeping two hours less a night do? It was only for a short period of time, anyway.

And even if you struggled with anxiety and exhaustion, you didn't want to burden them. It was bad enough that you were gone for the semester, telling them how you really felt would be overkill. 

But now the jig was up. You should have known that Yellow was an expert when it came to observation and you had probably hurt them even more with your lie.

"I'm so sorry", it was like someone had opened the valve and now you were pathetically blubbering. "I just… didn't want to worry you, is all."

Seeing your distress, Blue immediately pulled closer to you, a tentative finger rubbing the crown of your head. 

"Little one, you know you can tell us everything. We care for you and want to help you", she cooed at you, shooting you a smile.

"You organics are so weak to stress, apply a little pressure and - poof - you just break", declared White, a finger up in the air to call attention to her great wisdom.

The stroking on your head stopped abruptly, replaced by shaking. 

"Don't… say that", Blue voice was trembling, clearly on the verge of crying. As if on cue, you and Yellow scrambled to console her.

 "Don't worry, I'll be fine. It's just a little difficult right now", you turned to her, smiling.

"She is an excellent specimen and very durable, Blue", Yellow's tone was a bit more pragmatic, but honest. It was also a nice compliment, coming from her.

"Yes, this isn't the first time I'm dealing with exams", you reached out to pat her finger. "It's going to be okay, even if I don't pass."

"... really?", Blue looked at you with big, questioning eyes. "Please don't lie, you know I couldn't stand to see you - "

A shuddering breath followed. "Stars, I can't even say it."

You were scooped up by her hands and pressed against her soft cheek. 

They were all experts in dramatics, but Blue was especially sensitive when it came to your mortality. The first time you had explained your lifespan and the many ways one could die to her in detail, you weren't allowed to leave her for a week. She had known how short human lives were, but this! Unacceptable.

She even made you eat nothing but mush during those seven days, too afraid of this 'choking'. 

In the end, you talked her out of it. But it was a big factor when it came to your living situation. They wanted to spend every moment with you, savoring your presence. 

You tried to reciprocate the cuddling by embracing her as best as you could. She let out a soft sigh, holding you a little closer. After a minute of silent embracing, she reluctantly put you back in Yellow’s hand. “We’re always there for you, no matter what”, she told you in a gentle tone, the other two nodding in agreement. “If you need me to talk to one of these organics, darling, don’t hesitate to tell me!”, exclaimed White, a smile stretching her cheeks in the most unnatural way. A mental image of her hunched over one of your professors in their office made you a little… uneasy. “Thank you, but I can do that myself”, you laughed nervously. White didn’t look too satisfied with your answer, but seemed to accept it.

“And if it becomes too much, you’re always welcome to move in with us”, added Blue, making you flush. It wasn’t the first time you got that offer, but it was just too sweet. “M-maybe in a couple of years”, you stammered, which earned you a grumble from them. You coughed, feeling a little awkward to change the topic so suddenly. “Ehm, thank you guys - I don’t want to be rude, but I have to get back to studying pretty soon.” “But it’s already dark outside! Isn’t that when humans sleep - oh”, Blue said, suddenly struck by an epiphany. “Oh no, we kept you from sleeping!” You shook your head vehemently. “No, no, we don’t go to sleep the second it gets dark, guys. I think I might have explained this to you before. But I still have some stuff to do.” Of course it was White who interrupted the stunned silence first. “You don’t have a little more time for us? We came all the way...” Yellow joined in, her voice a little louder than anticipated. “Can’t you study here? With us?” “Guys, you can’t just park your ship here - without asking anyone - and keep it in this place for days! I’m gonna get in trouble”, you panicked a little at the thought. The only spot where this gigantic humanoid vessel could be placed was Beach City. Nobody would call the police or worse, the government, over this. “So you have to leave,” this hurt more to say than you’d like to admit. “Or you have to go to Steven, if you want to stay.” All three of them pulled incredibly sad faces, and Blue was close to crying again. You would be lying if it didn’t pull at your heart-strings. “We’re here to make sure you take care of yourself, spark. You’re packing your things and then we’ll stay at Steven’s house and help you study”, Yellow nearly shouted at you. It wasn’t malicious, just her expressing her genuine concern. A relic of times now gone. You thought about it for a second - you could take your books with you, as well as your laptop and notes. Classes were over for now, you only had to attend the exams in two weeks. Technically, you could do it. And with the look they were giving you and all their efforts to make you feel better, you agreed. How could you say no to your giant space ladies? Especially when they were bending over backwards to comfort you. Steven was even more surprised to see the four of you two hours later. You had texted him on the way, but it had been left unread. The Diamonds didn’t really care for announcing their visits, but even this was a bit sudden. After White had explained everything to him, he simply slinked back to bed, planning on discussing the logistics of the situation in the morning. You were allowed to sleep on the couch, but not without the protest of the Diamonds. You loved falling asleep with them around, though regarding the circumstances they would probably dote on you until you were wide awake. They also tended to fight over who got to be the one you would sleep on, and you didn’t have the nerves for that right now. When you left the beach house the next morning, you were greeted with the sight of the three of them practically camping in front of the deck. They had missed you that much, it seemed. 

“Good morning, guys!”

You were greeted by various nicknames and excited faces, White the first one to scoop you up. Behind your back, Steven groaned in his cup. “So, what have you planned, darling?”, her voice was chipper as ever, her bright eyes burning your retinas. Maybe Steven was right and it was just a little too early, but no take-backs now. “About that...”, you scratched your cheek in slight discomfort. “I have to study the whole day.” White’s fell immediately, clearly stunned. “I told you yesterday - I have things to do, but you can keep me company. Maybe even help me?” She blinked at you once, the gears in her head clearly turning. Then she gave you an eye-watering smile. “Whatever this studying is, we’ll help you!” You groaned internally. How many times had you explained it to her already?

 It went better than you initially expected. The weather outside was nice and warm, the beach calm enough to simply set up a little picnic blanket with your books and notes. (You left your laptop inside, not wanting to get sand into it.) Surrounded by three (surprisingly silent) giant figures watching your every move, you got to work. It was a little awkward at first, but you fell  into a routine soon enough. Each of them had her own unique way of helping you; Blue would simply nod and smile when you tried to regurgitate the material to her, White would go on a tangent whenever she recognized something you were talking about, earning her a warning glare from Yellow. Yellow herself would try to quiz you on whatever notes you had pulled up on your gemtech tablet (they were surprisingly resistant to sand). It quickly became one of the most successful days so far, you were impressed. Being with them kept you grounded, they were like a calming aura to keep your anxiety at bay. And they were extremely helpful. It was almost comical, you had to admit. At the end of the day, you were finally able to pack up your books and enjoy the evening with them. It felt good to know that you had managed to get so much done today. You were strangely at ease, their presence strengthening you. You did worry however, that this routine might get boring for them - it wasn’t like the nice things you did usually, it wasn’t playful, entertaining or relaxing. You didn’t want to force them into staying with you, you didn’t want to bore them. With a sigh you shouldered your tote bag, still too caught up in your head. Your sudden shift in mood didn’t go unnoticed. “Little one, are you alright?”, Blue crouched down next to you, her soft eyes glowing in the dusk, her form crowding you in shade. 

You looked up to her, a little unsure on how to word your feelings.

"It's just", you opened and closed the fist around your bag straps. "Did you enjoy today? Was it dull? I-I still have two weeks to go and it's gonna stay the same, pretty much."

She sighed, her tense shoulders slacking. 

"We enjoy your company", she gave you a smile. "We haven't spent time with each other in such a long time, starlight. If we were able to accompany every second of your life, we would."

She offered you a hand and you happily jumped on it, a little flustered at her words. They were so serious, so heartfelt. Sometimes you did forget that they were older than civilization on earth, that they would outlive you by eons. 

"Thank you, Blue", you peered up at her, a relieved smile appearing on your face. "Your company helps me so much, you know? It would mean the world to me if you stayed with me until the exam."

Luckily for you, Steven had given you permission to stay on the beach - you were also allowed to sleep on the couch, but you knew you'd have to stay with the Diamonds. It was the least you could do to pay them back, even if it was just this little thing. 

And this was exactly how you spent the last days leading up to your finals, either sprawled on the picnic blanket on the beach, sitting on the deck with your laptop or, when the weather didn't allow it, lounging on the couch or on the ship. You were surrounded by Blue, Yellow and White at all times, each of them trying her best to help you with the material. They kept you on track, making sure you didn't procrastinate too much (even if that meant less cuddles) and nipped any self-doubts you had in the bud. 

Even as the date got dangerously close, they still patiently calmed you down. When your panic got too bad, one of them made sure to keep you close, either putting you into her lap or patting your head. At night, they talked to you until you fell asleep and woke you up better than your little phone alarm could ever do. You knew that even if you didn't pass, it wouldn't be the end of the world. 

Still, you were an anxious mess when the first exam rolled around, your mind a thousand miles away as you got ready to go to uni and to give it your all. Not even the Diamonds were able to calm you down, but you knew you just had to get it done and over with. The week was a blur, days blending into each other, your head always buried in a book. You were lucky that they had stayed behind with Steven, only calling you at the end of the day. While the fussing had been helpful beforehand, now it would only hinder you. 

Before you could really settle into a routine, finals were over, leaving you with a weird emptiness and a restless feeling. Now all you had to do was wait for the results, a special kind of torture in itself. 

The Diamonds noticed how absent you were, but no amount of well-meaning words could shake your nervousness. You didn't mean to cause them any further stress, but it was tough to keep your mind off things.

When the results were finally posted online, your heart threatened to burst out of your chest, your mouth dry and your hands shaking. You knew there was nothing you could do now, but the thought of weeks of studying going to waste was nearly unbearable. A dozen scenarios ran through your head, not one overly positive. 

Once the browser had pulled up your account, the answer was a simple click away. You had to steel yourself by gripping the edge of the table - the Diamonds were waiting outside impatiently, you knew they would lose it if they saw you like this. 

With one last breath, you closed your eyes and did what had to be done.

The page was on full display in a matter of milliseconds, your eyes frantically searching for the right column, moving erratically up and down. 

Finally you found what you were looking for: you had passed. In a moment of disbelief, you reread the page again, but it was there in tiny black letters.

It was like someone had knocked all the air out of you with a single hit, your heart wasn't done with beating fast, but at least some of the nervousness slowly dissipated.

The realization took a while to settle in as you deflated in your seat like beach ball slowly losing air. You stared at the wall, a smile cautiously spreading on your face as if you were afraid that too much joy would nullify your results. But after a solid minute, not even your stress-addled mind fog could hold you back from jumping out of your seat in joy.

Busting through the door, you cheered loudly while you ran across the deck, immediately focusing all attention on you. Steven had distracted the Diamonds to give you some time and space, but at the sound of your happy shouting they instantly turned around, faces unsure for a second.

You raced through the sand, arms in the air, relieved laughter pouring out of your mouth like a steady stream. It was probably not the most flattering or mature look, but you couldn't care less. 

"I passed!", with one last cry you came to a grinding halt in front of them, only to jump up into the air. "I did it! Ha!"

 Blue's face was the first to soften into a tender smile, her expression clearly full of pride, followed by White who looked at you in excitement. 

Yellow only blinked at you for a moment before she erupted in delighted laughter and scooped you up without a word, her eyes beaming with glee. It was rare for her to lose her composure like this, but that made it all the more sweet. You shot back the biggest grin you could manage, positively vibrating in her palm.

"We're so proud of you, little one", Blue's voice came out as a gentle sigh, stress falling off her back you didn't even know she had felt. It made you stop for a moment, finally grasping how your situation had affected them and how much they cared for you. 

You teared up in an instant, the sudden change of feelings giving you whiplash, your heart suddenly bubbling with love and gratefulness. It was unbelievable how lucky you were, you realized.

At the sight of your sniffling face, Yellow brought you closer to her, her eyes full of warmth. It was as if she was shielding you from the others for just a moment of privacy.

"No reason to cry, spark", her tone was as soft as the look she gave you and did exactly the opposite: you couldn't help but let some tears slip down your cheeks, babbling about how happy you were to have passed and to be with them, while she smiled at you in slight amusement.

The moment was interrupted by an awkward Steven coughing not-so-subtly into his fist. 

"Okay, I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it?", his voice reached a clumsy high, he clearly felt like he was disturbing something. 

The Diamonds didn't really notice however, they just happily sent him off and turned their attention back to you. You were showered in affection and soft words, they were genuinely happy for you and even more ecstatic to have you all for themselves for a couple of weeks. As you listened to White ramble on and on about what she had planned for you during this break, you felt the pressure lift itself from you. All this stress had been worth it and now you were rewarded with all the love you could ever ask for. You knew that this was where you belonged.

[spookysweet-heart]

Dream Boy

Request: “Phantom x soulmate reader 👉🏼👈🏼 he’s one of my special interests”

Fandom: NateWantsToBattle

Parings: Phantom x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Gonna be honest here I wrote this while I was kinda out of it (lack of sleep) but the funny thing is, while I was looking for AUs to write I found one that relates to sleep. Dreams to be specific. Thank you to @the-real-comically-insane for requesting! The collage was made by me! Edited by @semiproeagle23

      Ever since you were a kid, you’ve always had this dream about a boy. At first, you thought it was just your little mind making up a friend to play with while you were asleep. As you got older so did he, sharing experiences and stories of your days. The laughs, the crying, you grew up with this kid through it all. 

The downside to this, besides being dreams, is that you’d always forget them as soon as you woke up. The only thing you’d remember was the boy, how he looked like and sounded, but you realized you could never remember his name either.

You were currently at the dining room table sketching out a portrait of the boy. Your roommate was passing by to get to the kitchen when they looked over your shoulder. “So this is the dream boy you’ve been telling me about? He’s really cute.”

You sighed as you looked up at them. “He is, but I just hate that I can’t remember anything but how he looks and sounds like.”

“Hey, c’mon, don’t think like that. Look, you’re gonna find him one day, everything’s gonna make sense when you do.”

Playfully rolling your eyes, you poked their cheek. “Easy for you to say. You found your soulmate already.”

They ruffled your hair a bit, making you giggle. “Yeah, sounds easy, but it wasn’t. I was the same as you, frustrated, worried that I’d never find them. But then one day, I walked into my first lecture of the new semester and there they were, sitting in the middle rows.”

“I wish that could happen to me. Who even thought this would be a great idea, only seeing your soulmate in your dream and you have to try to find them in real life without even remembering their name??”

“I know, but you’ll be fine. Trust me. C’mon, let’s go out to eat dinner instead.”

“Was it your turn to make dinner tonight?” Standing up from the table, you looked over at them.

“Yes, but I don’t feel like cooking, so I’m offering to buy dinner. Same thing anyway, if you think about it.”

“I guess you’re right.” 

Sitting their car in the parking lot of McDonald’s, you handed them their bag of food.

Taking it, they smiled over at you. “So, (Y/n).”

Raising an eyebrow at them, you drank some of your soda. “Yeah? What’s up?”

“Melanie and I were wondering if you wanted to go down to LA for the weekend.”

“This weekend??”

“Yeah! We thought it would be fun!”

Taking a bite of your food, you thought about it for a second. “Why LA, of all places?”

“Why not? It just sounds like a fun little vacation. Plus it’s LA! We might meet a celebrity! How cool would that be??”

“Well, I guess you’re right. That would be pretty cool.”

“So does that mean you’re in?”

“Sure, sounds like fun, and I kinda need it after this semester.”

“Yes! A weekend getaway, here we come!”

Getting home after dinner, you were excited to get to bed. You were so excited to talk about your weekend plans with the dream boy.

Smiling to yourself as you got comfortable in your bed, you couldn’t help but giggle a little, feeling excited to see him again.

Feeling yourself drifting off to sleep, you let yourself relax as everything went black.

“Hey you, nice seeing you again.” Hearing a voice, you slowly opened your eyes and smiled when you saw him again.

“Hey,” taking his hand in yours, he helped you sit up. Looking around, you realized you two were sitting on a picnic blanket surrounded by a beautiful meadow. A light breeze passed, feeling cool on your warm skin. “I got some exciting news today.” Smiling and looking up at the sky, you noticed it’s a pretty pink color.

“Oh? Do tell!” He smiled down at you, seeing your eyes shine as you got excited.

“My roommate, their partner and I agreed to go on a road trip to LA this weekend and I’m honestly really excited. It’s been a while since I’ve had a little vacation. I think it’s gonna be fun!”

“Wait wait wait. LA? Like Los Angeles?”

“Yeah? Why?” You tilted your head, feeling a little confused.

“We won’t remember this anyway but. I live there...I live in LA!”

Blinking, it took you a second to process it, but when it hit you, you immediately tackled him into a hug. “No way!! That means...that means we have a chance!”

“It does! It really does!” Gently caressing your cheek, he leaned in, kissing you sweetly. “I hope it happens…”

“So do I…” Laying your head on his chest, you sighed, feeling relief. Closing your eyes, you enjoyed the feeling of his fingers running through your hair.

Since that night, there had been this heavy feeling in your chest. You didn’t know why. You weren’t nervous or scared about the trip. You knew you were all prepared, but your roommate just said it was the nervousness of the unknown because you didn’t know exactly what could happen that weekend.

When the day finally came and you all arrived at the hotel, you noticed that that heavy feeling in your chest felt a little lighter, for some reason.

“Hey (Y/n)! Check it out, they have a club connecting to the lobby! Wanna check it out?” Your roommate was pulling at your sleeve in excitement.

“How about later? We should get settled into our rooms first.”

“You’re right...we can check it out after dinner.”

“For sure! I mean, it does look like people are enjoying themselves.”

“Drinks will be my treat tonight, alright? You buy tomorrow night’s.”

“Alright- wait a minute, I never agreed that I’d drink!”

Your roommate only laughed as they made their way to the elevator with their partner.

“Excuse me? Your keycard's ready.” The lady at the front desk smiled at you, handing you the bright red card. 

“Thank you so much.” Taking it, you picked up your bag and made your way to the elevator.

“Of course! Enjoy your stay!”

Feeling exhausted, you were happy to get into your room. Immediately after closing your door, you tossed your shoes off and laid down on the bed. Sighing a bit, you felt very relaxed on the soft bed. You were just about to let sleep seep through, but your phone ringing woke you up. Seeing that it was your roommate, you picked up the phone. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Wanna go explore?”

“I just took off my shoes…”

“Put them back on? C’mon, it’s the first day. I’ll buy you anything you want.”

“You’re already buying drinks tonight.”

“Yeah, so? C’mon, let’s go!”

Rolling onto your side, you pushed yourself up so that you were sitting up on the bed. “Alright, alright.”

“Yes!”

“I want lunch though…”

“I got it covered, Melanie knows a really good spot we could try.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you in the lobby soon.” 

Ending the call, you laid back down in bed. “Why can’t I say no…” Getting up, you slipped your shoes back on. Grabbing your phone, wallet, and keycard, you headed out of your room. Closing the door, you weren’t paying attention when you turned around to head down the hall, and accidentally bumped into someone, making you drop your keycard. Before you can pick it up yourself, the other person beats you to it. “Sorry about that-” 

When you two looked at each other, your eyes widened as your mind was suddenly flooded with memories of your dreams.

“(Y/n)?”

“Phantom?”

“It’s you! Holy shit, it’s really you!”

Phantom wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. 

Hugging back, you smiled while taking everything in. “This is actually happening…”

“It is...Now that I remember...thinking this. I honestly didn’t think I’d see you this soon into your trip..”

“Weird right?” Pulling away, you smiled up at him. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I own this hotel. I assume you and your friends booked rooms here?”

“Yeah. Wait, you own this hotel??”

“Yes, it wasn’t easy, but this is my building.”

“That’s amazing I-” Feeling your phone vibrate in your hand, you saw it was your roommate calling. “I’m sorry, I kinda have to go. My friends are waiting.”

“Wait, um, before you do. Would you want to get dinner with me tonight?”

“I’d love that.”

“Great! I’ll pick you later then.” Phantom leaned down and kissed your cheek. 

“I’ll see you later…” Your cheeks felt warm as he let go of your hand.

“See you later.” Phantom smiled, watching you disappear around the corner, feeling his heart flutter in his chest.