#with a few extra lbs of course

[es-draws]

Bonk, again

[bluecollarmcandtf]

M O O N L I G H T ™

Chapter III

It's late, and the last thing I expect to find at my nightly workout is my little bro, dressed up like a personal trainer. He looks ridiculous in that cheesy uniform, not to mention the light pouring out of his skull and the smile stamped into his face! I guess the little idiot signed up for Moonlight™: that was one helluva mistake!

"Good evening, sir," my brother speaks as if we hadn't grown up together, "Is there any way I can aid your fitness journey tonight?"

Hearing Ryan call me 'sir' brings a devious grin to my own face. I've bullied this kid for years, and now he's kissing my ass like well-trained puppy. Thanks to Moonlight™, my annoying little bro is just a mind controlled employee who doesn't realize his brother's here, let alone embarrassing him! I wish I could get my entire family implanted with these little Moonlight™ things. Messing with them would be hilarious!

"Oh yeah," I sneer, "And what's string bean gonna do for a guy like me?"

"Well, sir, as a personal trainer here at Planet Fitness, I'll gladly demonstrate how to use the machines, spot patrons with heavy-lifting, and return equipment when finished."

God, he sounds even more annoying than usual! "You really think a someone like you could spot me?" I scoff and bring my bicep to his face, flexing it inches away from his perpetually open eyes.

"Actually, sir, this body can lift 260 lbs on the bench press without injury. The load you have is well-enough below to ensure that I may be of service. Still sir, the weight you're lifting is a very respectable amount," Ryan's smile beamed at me, but mine fell.

"Whatever, I'll be fine," I retort, "Just stand over there and mop up my sweat when I'm done."

"Yes, sir."

My little brother takes a step back as I get ready to lift. As stupid as he looks, standing there waiting on me to finish, he also looks pretty fit. His company polo might be sweaty and gross, but it's tight against his improving physique. He's clearly been lifting a lot while he's been working here, but his gains should not count if Moonlight™ is the one actually working out that pathetic little body! The only way he could bulk up was by becoming a fucking puppet! Talk about sad!

"Fuck!" I grunt, tossing the barbell back as I finish. I did a few extra sets to prove a point and now my arms are on fire. "Towel!" I snap.

"Yes, sir," Ryan rushes over and wipes the sweat off my brow. I just laugh in his face.

"I think I got some sweat on my sneakers too," I jab, "You can wipe them off and then put twenty more pounds on the bar."

"Of course, sir."

My brother gets on his knees with the towel, giving my sneakers a cursory buff. I don't know what personal trainer has shoe-shining in his job description, but I've heard these Moonlight™ employees can be pretty pliant. Apparently, you can make them do quite a bit with the loopholes in their programming. Maybe I can get Ryan here to do something even more embarrassing than polishing his big bro's shoes!

The next week, I worked out every night.

Turns out, bullying my little bro was great motivation to go to the gym! When I saw him during the day, I never mentioned the fact that I knew; didn't want to scare him off. At night, I had every opportunity to take out my frustrations on him. If he pissed me off during the day, I could boss him around at the gym, ordering him to follow me around and wipe down every piece of equipment. I could call him whatever names I wanted and yell at him as loudly as I pleased; he had to just stand there with the best customer service smile and say "yes, sir."

Playing around with Ryan was fun, but it wasn't until I went out for a drink that I ran into my second brother. I guess he had the same idea to get hired with Moonlight™...

"Can I fix you a drink, sir?" my brother, the middle child, yells over the club's EDM.

"What the hell?" I shout, "Ryan's dumb enough to Moonlight™, but I didn't think you were!"

Sam just stares back with the same flashlight eyes and widely stretched lips. Of course his programming won't let him do anything outside of bartending! He's probably not even conscious in there! Ryan was always a bit of an impulsive twerp, so I wasn't surprised to see him Moonlighting™, but Sam is different. He'd said he'd never put his body to work at night. Something about the behavior of Moonlighters™ always rubbed him the wrong way...I guess he changed his mind.

"A round of beers," I tell him, warily gesturing to the back corner, "For me and our crew."

Sam's glowing stare looks over my shoulder and sees our friends, the guys we both hang out with, "Yes, sir. I'll have it right out for you."

I return to our pals, anxious for my brother to follow. Sam is only a year younger than myself, so we run around with the same crowd, yet he didn't recognize any of our buds. Now he's about to serve them like a fucking waiter. My catatonic brother is about to walk into the most humiliating situation of his life. I just get to sit back and watch!

"Sam?" one of them asks a moment later.

"Here are your beers, sir," my brother plucks the bottles off his tray and sets them out for each of his friends, completely oblivious to their stunned reactions, "Is there anything else I can get any of you?"

"Holy crap, dude!" another pal turns to me, "Since when did your brother start Moonlight? He looks like a total idiot!"

Sam doesn't seem to register the insult.

"I don't know man," I laugh, "Tonight, I guess."

"Fetch us some napkins," one guy quips with an amused flick of his hand.

"Right away, sir." Sam answers a little too promptly, and whisks away.

"Right away, sir, Ha!" the guy repeats with a mock salute, "We've gotta mess with him!"

Sam returns, obediently passing out napkins, but I'm finding it harder to meet his gaze while he's grinning so manically. This situation is starting to feel more awkward than hilarious. These guys will never let him live this down!

"Sam, get over here and give this paying customer a sloppy BJ!"

My brother stiffens, and for a second a jolt of fear runs down my spine, terrified that Moonlight™ will actually make him comply. Pranks are all good and fun, but I do not want to see my brother about to blow another dude!

"I apologize, sir," he finally resumes, "That is not part of my responsibilities as bartender."

Thank God.

"Then get something to clean this up," he laughs wildly, "You spilled my beer!" Our friend then pours half his drink on the crotch of his jeans, staring at Sam with the amused eyes of a drunk fool. This guy always gets weird after a few drinks. I don't know why we still bring him along. Normally, we just ignore him.

"Of course, sir," Sam answers attentively.

For the next ten minutes, I sit in silent horror as my brother returns with a rag, proceeding to get on his knees and wipe down another man's crotch with painful dedication. Of course, our friends are all howling with laughter at this point, taking video evidence that they can embarrass Sam with later.

It feels like a lifetime, but Sam finally stands up, "I hope I cleaned that up well enough for you, sir."

The guy feels at his wet jeans, saying, "I don't know if that's good enough, bitch."

"I'm sorry, sir, let me try ag-"

"No! It's my turn," someone else cuts in, pushing his way to the front, "You spilled some on my ass that needs cleaned up!"

The gang loses it, doubling over with laughter as Sam prepares to spend the next ten minutes wiping down another guy's ass, but I've had enough, "No! We're done here, thank you. Go close our tab," I bark.

"Yes, sir," Sam turns on his heel. His dumb obedience is more disturbing than entertaining at this point.

Our friends all give me a hard time for sending him away, but I'm not having it. Maybe I'm not drunk enough, but they're enjoying this a lot more than I am. At this point, I'm ready to call it a night and go home, so I say my goodbyes and head for the exit.

The walk home isn't a far one, but I pass a few notable places on the way: one being my dad's dark office building. Our old man has been working late nights there lately. In the dimly lit lobby, I recognize someone...

"Dad?" I gasp.

"Good evening, sir," my father says to me without any note of familiarity in his voice.

"Wait, you're moonlighting too?" it comes out as more of an accusation, but at this point I'm fed up with finding family members secretly working random mind-controlled night jobs.

"I am a security guard employed through the Moonlight™ corporation," his gravelly voice sounds foreign, delivering these programmed prompts, "If you'd like, sir, I can help you apply for a Moonlight™ position, and you can start making the most of your sleeping hours too!"

"Why the fuck did you think this was a good idea, dad?" I ask, knowing this stupid security guard persona isn't capable of answering.

"He didn't."

The voice of someone else in the room sends shivers down my spine. I whip around, and see a gangly, middle-aged man stepping forward.

"Jeff?"

"Hi, Jamie," my uncle says, sauntering up to his far taller brother and resting an arm on his shoulder. My dad's attentive posture doesn't waver. He just keeps on acting like the perfect sentry for the building and the perfect armrest for his brother.

"Do you mind telling me what's going on!?"

He sniffles and sighs like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "Yes, I suppose this charade of mine was doomed to be found out sooner or later. I put your father in the Moonlight™ database. He was just wasting his sleeping hours at home in his bed, and he'd always refuse to let me sign him up, so I did it in secret. He makes a great guard. Right Tom?"

Uncle Jeff claps my dad on the back, prompting him to announce a proud, "Yes, sir!"

"See," my uncle turns back to me, "No harm done. Your old man gets paid to stand around in his sleep. Its harmless!"

"But he doesn't know!" I yell, seething at my uncle's sheer abuse of his place in the company, "This has to be illegal, and are you just pocketing Dad, Ryan, and Sam's salaries?"

He rolls his eyes, "I am right now, but the four of you don't even make that much."

"Did you just say the four of us?" I grunt.

"Oops," he holds a hand to his forehead and curses under his breath.

"AM I FUCKING MOONLIGHTING WHILE I SLEEP TOO?" I am screaming at this point, "You're fucked up!" I bark. Angrily, I stomp towards my uncle, but my father takes a firm step planting himself between me and the man. His steady palm is holding the baton at his belt, making me nervous. Is my dad about to beat me up for this creep?

"Excuse me, sir," my dad smiles at my uncle, "Would you like me to escort this man out of the building?"

"That won't be necessary," my uncle says, "I'll just trigger his Moonlight™ shift to start now. You can go back to standing in the corner"

"Yes, sir," my security guard father answers placidly, returning to his attentive stance.

"You wouldn't," I snarl.

"Oh, trust me, I will. As I understand it, overriding a subject's body while awake means you'll be fully conscious. I'll work on something to make you forget this whole incident later."

He presses a few buttons on an ipad, and suddenly my vision is engulfed in a purple haze. My back straightens, my muscles relax, and I feel my face contorts into a giant smile. Suddenly, my entire body seems to be gone from my grasp, and I'm constrained to a tiny space in my head while something else takes over.

"Enjoy your shift," my uncle snickers with a glare.

"Thank you, sir. I will," I feel my voice pushed out of my throat with an excited tone that isn't mine. Before I know it, my legs are carrying me away from my uncle, leaving him with my father, to march down the dark street...

"Here's your order, sir," my voice has the trademarked Moonlight™ eagerness in it as I reach out the window and hand over the meal.

"Fuck off, sleep-freak!" the teen in the driver's seat flips me off, making his immature friends cackle as they speed off. I can't do anything but smile and watch as they weave away. They have no idea I'm actually conscious in here.

After being forced to leave my uncle, I found myself striding into a fast food restaurant through its backdoor. I could instantly tell the place wasnt anywhere I'd eat at because the dumpster smelled like soggy fries and old meat. The kitchen was a fluorescent-lit pit, with a thick feeling of oil hanging in the air. I could barely take in the surroundings before I was changing out of my clothes by some lockers. I was horrified that Moonlight™ was making me fucking strip, but before long my hands were pulling on new clothes: a uniform. The polo felt like it'd been sitting at the bottom of the locker since the last shift, drying in sweat, and the pants were sticky with something unidentifiable. I was mortified to be pulling on a fucking hairnet and apron, but I had no choice.

"Blondie's here early," a smoker's voice purred from behind me. I had a bad feeling he'd been standing there for a while, watching.

"Hello boss," my voice answers, apparently recognizing the overweight, unshaved creep, "I'm ready to start my shift, sir! Where am I needed today?"

I watched as the man licked his stubbly lips, his beady eyes crawling all over me. Without any shame, his sweaty palm groped the growing bulge in his khakis. He was obviously happy to see me, and he probably thought I couldn't actually see him! I guess, every fucking night that my uncle's made me work in my sleep, I've been under the supervision of THIS pervert!?

"Get to the fryer," his scratchy throat moaned, "You know I want you to get nice and sweaty for later."

"Yes, sir. I'll be sure to work up a sweat for you," I answer, confused and disturbed by my response. The cheer in my voice did not match the overwhelming gloom I felt when the man slapped my ass. His hand lingered on my rear for too long, but I couldn't even frown.

Since then, I've been boiling fries and flipping burgers. Every so often I have to hand an order out the window, but my heart races every time I do. Three orders ago, the customer threw their soda back at my coworker, he's a fairly average guy in his thirties, and he was dowsed in Coca-Cola. It didn't keep Moonlight™'s programming from working: he just kept manning the grill, smiling, eyes glowing, and hair dripping with cherry flavored juice.

"Ouch!" at least, that's what I want to say. The oil sizzles and pops, and a few drops of hot grease splatter onto my arm, but I don’t flinch. The control won’t let me.

Suddenly I feel someone leaning in behind me. My spine shivers as my manager says, "It's closing time, Blondie. I'll send everyone home so you and I can clean up like usual." He whispers it in my ear, with his flabby arms wrapped around me like we're fucking lovers! I wish I could vomit!

"Sounds good, boss," I find myself saying.

One by one, the manager dismisses each of my moonlighting coworkers. I can't help but feel jealous as they strip out of their uniforms by the door. It isn't just that they get to leave; they also have the luxury of not knowing what's going on. They're all asleep. I'd give anything to at least be unaware of whatever this fucking pervert is about to do!

My body is preoccupied with whatever shit needs to be done for closing, wiping down the tables, taking out the trash, and more.

"Mop time," the manager suddenly announces, holding the raggedy thing out expectantly.

"Yes, sir," my voice answers, and I drop what I'm doing to accept the mop. The crotch of his pants is unzipped, but my bodies already turned away from him, turning all my attention to swab the tiles floor.

"You're doing it wrong again, Blondie," he purrs slowly, "I'm gonna have to help you like usual."

"Thank you, sir," my voice sounds grateful, but I am anything but. The pervert presses his rotund body against my back and holds my muscular arms with his own chubby ones. I can feel his penis poking into me below his gut, but my body accepts his touch like he's just a boss helping out an employee.

I guess this asshole found a loophole in Moonlight™'s fucking programming. He's going to touch me all he wants under the guise of demonstrating the right way to mop.

The creep spends the next ten minutes guiding my arms back and forth. "Fuck, you're bubble butt feels even better than usual, Blondie," he breathes in my ear. If I had control of my muscles, he wouldn't stand a chance, but right now, they're putty in my boss's arms. Meanwhile, his waist gets busy dry humping his chode into my rear end. "I'm so glad a jock like you was dumb enough to try Moonlight!" he grunts, his tongue dangerously close to my ear. I can only thank God that he can't take my pants off! After several painful minutes of him spitting more disgusting comments onto my cheek, his arms drop mine and plant themselves on my chest. His hands sloppily grope my pecs and pinch my nipples. I've never felt more pathetic. The man makes one final exclamation, "FUUUCK!" and I can tell he has finally gotten off.

"Thanks for the help, boss," I find myself saying.

With heavy breaths, he staggers back. The sudden open air on my back makes me realize just how hot and sweaty that slob was, and I can feel the slimy remnants of his balls slipping down my back and legs.

"Good job as always, Blondie," he breathes heavily with satisfaction.

"Thank you, sir," I answer. My voice hasn't lost its awful chipper quality, and my face is still stuck in a smile like I hadn't just been taken advantage of.

"Finish mopping up, and then you can lock up and clock out," he winks as if we shared some inside joke. I hate that all he sees is my smile.

"Yes, sir," I answer, but the creep has already waddled out of the building and slammed the door shut.

The sudden silence is unbearable. It makes the monotonous task of mopping the sticky floors all the more unpleasant. What's worse is that I can't pause to wash the manager's cum off my back. It soaks into my pants as I work, trapped in my own body. At least I know why these pants are so sticky. Honestly, I hope Uncle Jeff will wipe my memory...

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Princess Ti

Pair: Husband!Tee Higgins x Chase Sister!Reader

Descr: The day everyone’s been waiting for is here, GAME DAY- wait something’s not right.

TW: language, mentions of sex, childbirth.

Picture Day | Main Masterlist

WC: 5k

....:::: * * •° ✾ °•* * ::::....

“Y/n, it’s almost kick off!” Your mother-in-law calls out.

You huff hugging your bump, looking at the shirt you’d usually be wearing for game day if you weren’t 41 weeks pregnant.

Usually, you'd be at the game cheering your husband and younger brother on from the stands, but that wasn't really an option this far along in your pregnancy. But you at least wanted to indulge in your favorite game day tradition: wearing Tee's jersey. However, that wasn’t going so smoothly either.

Your bedroom door opens, and Tee’s mom pops her head in. “You okay, darlin’?”

“I would be, but I’m still pregnant, so I’m not.” She chuckles and sits on the bed next to Tee’s jersey. 

“I know how you feel. You’re tired, antsy, anxious, moody. Little princess is really enjoying her time in there.” She offers you a kind smile.

“I think I made too good of home in there. Tee says there’s no better place for her to be than the womb. Of course, he would because he doesn’t have swollen ankles and an extra 30 lbs to carry on his torso. He was so scared I’d go into early labor that I think he convinced her to stay longer. 2 more weeks and she’ll be evicted via C-section, and that’s the last thing I want.” You pout, joining her on the bed.

“Hey, everything’s going to be fine. You’ve been doing everything right to get your body ready for this. She’ll come when it’s right. You said you woke up with contractions, right?”

You nod your head, “Braxton hicks. I’ve been dilated 2 centimeters for a week. Tee didn’t want to go to work, but it only lasted 15 minutes. The last one was actually before you came in, but it didn’t last long. It’s been like this since I hit 37 weeks.”

“Hey, you never know; babies surprise everyone.” You chuckle.

“I think I can fix this problem, though.” She points to the jersey. “Have a pair of scissors around?”

You go over to your vanity and dig out some hair scissors. She takes them and cuts a long triangle up the sides. “Here, now you can wear it and be comfortable.”

You slip the jersey over your white tee and admire her handiwork. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome; now we have a game to watch.” You happily link arms and join your mother in the living room.

“Y/n, your brother is driving me insane.” You roll your eyes when you see her eyes glued to her phone.

“What’d he do this time?” You sit between the ladies and hog a bowl of pretzels as she goes on about Ja’Marr’s post-game dinner requests.

You spend the next half snacking, yelling at the screen (not that you’d ever tell your husband), and listening to your mothers chat about their sons. You fell asleep during the start of the third quarter but woke to the same pain you felt this morning.

“I’m so tired of these fake ass contractions.” You hold on to your belly as the tightening gets worse. “Sorry for my language.”

Your mother shakes her head. “Babygirl, you’re in pain. No one is judging a few curse words, even if we both know you have a sailor’s tongue.”

“Momma, what-whatever, fuck- J told you isn’t- oh my god.” You grab hold of her hand as it’s held out.

“Hey hey, breathe, Y/n, breathe. Are you timing this?” Your mother-in-law nods as alarmed as yours. 

Your eyes squinched, teeth gritted, and you cried out in a pain you’d never felt before. “Mommy!”

“Yeah, baby, I’m right here.” You feel her free hand run your back. You try to do the breathing exercises she tells you and finally exhale when the pain dials down.

“Y/n?” You look up at the woman teary-eyed. 

“I lied, I don’t think these are Braxton hicks. They started a few hours after he left. I thought they were fake until they were happening every other hour. Now there’s even less time between them.” 

“I’m calling your midwife over and texting my son.” Your mother-in-law rubs your leg with a smile.

“Y/n, why didn’t you tell us you were in labor?” 

“Because I’m not. My water hasn’t broken yet, and they aren’t that close together. Tee’s not here. It’s not happening right now. If she wanted to come, it should've been this morning. It can’t be happening.” You shake your head and look up at the TV. As if on cue, your husband catches a pass and runs it to the endzone.

“Aww, babygirl, I know it’s scary, but this is what we’ve been waiting for.” She brings your head to her shoulder.

“The game isn’t over; we can’t just- ohhh fuck it’s back,” you whine as the contractions come back tenfold. You feel it everywhere now, your abdomen, back, pelvis- it was like you were being stabbed and electrified all over.

“Sarah is on her way over, and I called someone to get Tee.”

❁ཻུ۪۪♡

“Great catch, Tee! Great job, baby!” His teammates hollered as the wide receiver jogged over to the bench. 

The Bengals were winning 28 - 18 over the Browns, with both Tee and Ja’Marr catching each pass that came their way. Tee was all smiles as he sat back and took off his helmet. 

“That’s right, boy, show ‘em who's they daddy!” He chuckles as Ja’Marr hypes him up.

“Aight now, only one person can call me that, and she ain’t here yet.” They do their handshake with similar smiles. 

“Now that game gon be special,” Ja’Marr says before one of the sideline managers approaches them. “Hey, what’s the rush?” 

The girl looks at Tee with a sheepish smile.

He furrows his brows. “What’s wrong?”

She catches her breath and then speaks up. “We just got a call from your mom, your wife- Y/n’s in labor.”

“My sister’s in labor! Shit, I guess that day’s today.” Ja’Marr chuckles as his brother-in-law jumps up.

“I gotta go- wait, Coach- fuck.”

“Don’t worry, just go, Taylor knows. Go meet your daughter.” She smiles, ushering him off the field.

“I’ll catch up with y’all later. Take care of them! Good luck!” Tee waves as he runs into the tunnel.  

❁ཻུ۪۪♡

Your midwife, Sarah, arrived at the house minutes after calling her and, making her the third person in your presence who seemed to enjoy your pain. Then, before she could even examine you, you leaned over in pain and felt a small gush of fluids coat your shorts. 

On the way to the birth center, you were shifting between feeling extremely anxious, pure electrocuting pain, and intense worry. Everything was happening so fast, and the fact that your husband wasn’t here was making all your nerves go off. 

“Wow, this room is really nice. I had all my babies in a cheap ass hospital, so I’m not used to this kind of luxury.” Your mom praised as you settled into your birthing room.

“Momma, I’m begging you.” 

Tee still hadn’t arrived yet, it that, along with the fact that you were currently 5 centimeters dilated, was not helping calm your anxiety at all. Sarah and the two moms in the room were doing their best to soothe your aches, but nothing beats the comfort of being in your man’s arms during your time in need.

“Maybe you should rethink the epidural, baby.” Mama T suggests while tying your braids up into a bun.

“Yea, babygirl, it could help. It’s never too late to ask.” Your mom added. 

In return, you shook your head, unable to open your eyes due to the pain. “No, we had a plan. No matter how bad it gets, I don’t want them to take away any of my senses.”

 God, how badly you needed your husband. You wanted him to be the one rubbing your back and helping you through the worst pain you’ve ever felt. How could he not be here right now? He’s been waiting for this day longer than you and is late! 

“Where the fuck is my husband?” You grunt through your gritted teeth.

“He’s on his way sweetheart, just breath.” Sarah coos, earning a deadly side eye from you. 

“I’m going to kill him.”

“How about you think about how happy and relieved you’re gonna be when all this is over and your baby girl is safely in your arms.”

“Why did I let him do this to me?” You groaned, completely ignoring her. As the contraction subsides, you lay your hand over your eyes and let the exhaustion of labor pull you into a shallow slumber.

“Maybe we should start her on some Nitrous?”

❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

About Nine Months Ago..

“My boobs have been absolutely killing me.” You hiss as you palm the tender flesh. 

“Want me to massage ‘em for ya?” You catch the cheeky smile on your husband’s face through the bathroom mirror and shake your head.

“No, Tamaurice, that will make them worse.” 

“Awww, the government name. What did I do this time?” he lightly groans, shuffling into the bathroom like a sad toddler.

“Nothing that this can’t tell us.” You shrug, pulling a box out of a CVS bag. 

“Y/n?”

“Tee?”

“That’s a pregnancy test.” 

Ever since you and Tee got married, you kept a box hidden in the lower cabinet for emergencies. “Yes, it is.” 

“Why do you already have it?” It started as a gag gift from one of your friends. It was a Secret Santa party, and they thought it would be funny since you always joke about how much sex you and Tee have.

“Baby, it’s just a precaution. I could be just PMSing, but we have to rule out the possibility.”

“How many of these have you taken without me knowing?” Enough to know you want this one to be positive.

He turns your body to face his and perfectly reads the longing on your face. You want this to be the last one more than anything.

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to have a baby?” You shrugged, not knowing what to say.

“Y/n, I’m your husband. Remember that really expensive party on that mountain of snow? That was a wedding.” He chuckles as you slap his chest.

“I’m very aware that we’re married. It only happened eight months ago. I just didn’t want to be disappointed when you said no.” You frown, looking down.

“Hey, hey. Baby, don’t do that; let me see you.” His voice is calm and soft as he lifts your head to see his warm smile. “If you had told me you wanted to have a baby, I would’ve gotten you pregnant the second we got to the islands.” 

“Really?” He lifts you onto the counter so you can be eye to eye and smirks.

“Oh yeah, there’s nothing sexier than my wife walking around with my last name and my baby cooking for all the world to see. Fuck I’d love to see you pregnant with my jersey on. Then, by the end I get to raise a baby that looks just like you. I couldn’t be happier about that. Then after our little prince or princess is old enough and your ready, I’ll fuck you full of me again until there’s no doubt we’ll have another one on the way.”

Hearing him talk about getting you pregnant is so possessive, dirty, raunchy even, but all around absolutely amazing. He wants this just as much as you do, and maybe more. God, you’re lucky.

Grabbing his face, you smile as big as possible. “I love you so much, Tamaurice.” Then press your lips against his.

He chuckles into your lips and gently returns the kiss, wrapping your legs around him and hugging your body. “Ok baby, now don’t you have a test to take?” He asks after slightly pulling away, just enough for his words to come out clearly. You fully lean back and play with the braids on his neck.

“What if it’s negative?”

“Then I’ll spend the next few days making love to you all over this house, and we’ll enjoy every minute of it.” He said as if it was the sweetest dream he’d ever had, then pecked your forehead. “Okay mamas?”

Oh that name brought chills down your spine. You nodded as he lifted you off the counter and onto your feet. Taking a deep breath, you finally open the pink box and take out the test. “Will you stay here with me?”

“Of course, I will; now go pee on that stick mama.” He winks, slapping your butt as you walk into the water closet (private toilet). 

“I’m right here baby!” You roll your eyes but enjoy every bit of his enthusiasm. “I don’t hear any pissing, just giggling.”

“Oh my god, Tee, give it a second!”

“Want me to bring you some water? Actually I have a better idea.” Then he turns on the faucet. What’s not to love about this man?

Moments later, he hears a flush, and you join him back at the counter. “So…”

“We have to wait 15 minutes for the test to develop fully, " you said, putting the stick back in the box and washing your hands.

“You know waiting’s never been my strong suit.”

You roll your eyes and hop onto the counter. “Tell me a secret then.”

“Only if you tell me one.” He challenges laying his hands on your thighs.

“Deal.” You both smirk and count to 3 on your fingers. 

“Ja’Marr wasn’t the one who finished the rice and peas.”

“I hate making pecan pie.”

Your eyes widen while his jaw drops. “Baby, how the hell did you eat a whole pot of rice and peas?”

“Mamas, who gives a shit about the rice. You said you loved pecan pie. You asked my momma for the recipe!” Tee’s grip on your thighs deepens a bit.

“I said it because it was your favorite, and I wanted that second date! You can’t blame me for liking your fine ass. I would pretend to play flag football if it meant you’d like me as much as I did you. You know I hate running.” You whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking his pouty lips.

His lips curve back up in a smile as he chuckles. “You do hate running, so you’ve made that pie every year on my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas shit whenever I mention it all for me. You’ve never liked it once?”

You slowly nod, biting your lip. “Nope.”

A smirk grows on his handsome face, exposing his sparkly teeth. “You must’ve really liked a nigga to be doin’ all the cooking with no ring.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Of course I fucking liked you, have you met yourself. You’re probably the most charismatic, fine, intelligent, kind, sexy man I’ve ever met.” You smile, pecking his lips until he meets your lips with more force. 

After the short but sweet kiss, he pulls back from your lips but leaves your foreheads touching. “Damn, I don’t know what I did to deserve a woman like you. But I thank god every day for you. You know I’d do anything for you, too, right? Without you, I wouldn’t be the man I am today. After my first year in the league, I was feeling really low. Then, this angel walked onto the practice field and changed my life. There was no way I would’ve turned you down, not when you brought a light to my life I didn’t realize was missing.” You smile misty-eyed as he wipes away a stray tear.

“Shit, the only thing I regret in life is not buying you a ring sooner.” He says, causing you to scoff.

“Oh, two years was too late for you?”

“Oh, yeah. I was ready to be with you forever from day one. Your big-headed brother is the one who told me to wait, " he smirked.

You chuckle, laying a hand on his cheek. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. I’m yours, and you’re mine; everyone else be damned.” His head turns slightly, and he kisses your palm.

“Just me and you, baby.”

Then the timer goes off.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

When Tee finally reaches the birth center, he finds your mother pacing outside.

“Hey, mama J, what’s wrong? Is she alright? Is it the baby? Oh god, what happened?” He asks with his hands going to the top of his head, panicked and looking through doors to see if anything is happening.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here.” She sighs in relief, taking the corner of his shirt and dragging him inside.

“It’s bad, isn’t it? I told her I should’ve stayed home today, but she was too stubborn, and now-

“Now, she can finally relax because you’re here.” She smiles and turns into the room. You smiled immediately upon seeing the love of your life.

“Oh fucking, finally!” Tee lets out the breath he was holding in and rushes over to your bedside. “You took your sweet ass time.”

He chuckles at your grumpiness and lifts your chin for your lips to meet briefly. “I’m sorry, mamas, I got stuck in the pads and walked into a few walls trying to get them off.”

You press your lips together to suppress your laughter. “Okay, that makes everything better, " you say as the chuckles bubble to the surface. While you release your amusement, he admires how adorable you look in your soft pink gown, with your long braids pulled up into a bun and your large bump with a fetal monitor wrapped around it.

“I can’t believe we’re having a baby. How are you so calm right now? I’ve been freaking out since this morning.” He looks over at your contraction waves and goes bugged-eyed by the giant waves produced in contrast to your bubbly appearance. “What the hell?”

“She’s on nitrous.” His mom looks over, smirking. 

“Shit, momma, I forgot you were here.” He nervously chuckles as she walks over to her son and hugs him.

“That’s ok, you have more pressing matters. You should’ve seen her earlier, though. I thought she was gonna start swinging.” The pair look over at you, taking selfies in your hospital bed.

“Now look at her, giving birth and snapping pics, mm mm mm kids nowadays.”

Then, another wave of contractions hit you a bit differently. “Oh shit.” You raise and hug your belly. “Someone call Sarah right now!”

Tee’s brows scrunch. “What’s up?”

“The baby’s coming.” You take the oxygen mask your mom hands to you and take a deep breath. He comes over and puts his hand on your lower back.

“I know, that’s why we’re here.” You shake your head and grab his free hand, squeezing as hard as possible. “Baby?”

“There’s this pressure- a lot of fucking pressure. I feel like I need to push.” You groan out.

“Wait, you mean push push?” He asks wide-eyed.

“Yes, fuck! Oh my god! Fucking shit! Why the hell did I let you do this to me?”

“Ok, we need to order more nitrous.”

“Hello friends, oh Tamaurice, I'm glad you could join us today.” Sarah chimes, walking into the room in full gear.

“Oh, that was fast.” Tee remarks.

“I heard her from down the hall, so I assume it’s baby time!” Your midwife cheers, rolling her stool over to the bed.

Suddenly, all the anxiety from earlier about Tee missing your daughter’s birth evolves into anxiety about the birth itself. “Wait, wait, wait. Baby, I don’t think I can do this. We haven’t thought this through. I’m not ready. I can’t do this.”

“Hey hey hey,” Tee cups your face in his hands and takes in the immense worry in your eyes. “Y/n, you are way more than prepared. You know exactly what to do and have all the strength to do it. You’ve done an amazing job cooking and caring for her in there, but it’s time for her to be in your arms instead of your belly.”

“But what if I’m not a good mom? What if she comes out and we just fuck her up?” Your voice trembles as you lean into him.

“Mamas, you aren’t going to be a good mom- you’ll be the best. Every decision you’ve made in the past year was for her. Our princess is being welcomed by my queen, and my queen only gives her 110%. My queen also has a king who is willing to do any and everything for you. This king is also ready to meet his Princess Ti, and I bet her momma is too.” He pecks your lips and then smiles as your tears dry up.

“Okay, let’s have a baby.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The following two hours felt like a blur of emotions: voices of your loved ones urging you to push, the hands-on your body holding you up, the exhaustion of the labor wanting to take over. Then, it all fluttered away with a sudden relief and a sharp cry. You immediately slumped back into the bed, the exertion impacting every part of your body. You wanted to fall asleep right there, now that all the pain had drifted away and you felt at ease. 

Then you opened your eyes and saw her.

At first, it was just a tiny head of dark hair. Then your midwife turned around, and there she was, wrapped up in a pink swaddle cloth, one hand swiping at her light brown cheeks and big eyes searching the room. 

“Oh my god.” Your whisper makes her eyes dark right to you, and she lets out a whimper.

“You want your mama, don’t you? Come on, sweet pea.” Sarah coos and you gently place her in your arms. 

“Oh wow, you’re real.” You breathily whisper to yourself. The infant’s eyes stay on you like you're the only person in the world, just like yours stay locked on her. “Hi, baby.” 

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Tee leans over to kiss your head. You nod, stroking her tiny cheeks. 

“Yeah, she looks just like her momma.” He smiles, caressing her head.

“She’s amazing, I can’t believe we made her.” You sniffle. “Baby, we’re parents.” You smile, looking up at your husband.

“Speaking of, mom and dad, does our little angel have a name?” 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Tee says as he rummages through the bag he brought. 

“What is it?”

He comes back with three black circular velvet boxes, one twice as big as the other two. “Here’s the real reason I was late.” You watch him smile, puzzled, while he hands you the bigger one.

“What is this?” 

“These ones,” he holds up the other two boxes, “are for our little princess from her uncles J and JB.” He smiles, opening one to reveal a small tiara.

Your eyes widen, and a gasp escapes your mouth. “Oh my god, that is the cutest thing I have ever seen.” Tee chuckles as he removes the small cap from your daughter’s head and replaces it with the small crown.

“Joe’s been asking what he should get her for months. I kept saying something fit for a princess. And he definitely delivered. He reminded me to grab it from his locker before I left. He hid it very well.” 

“And the other one?”

“I’ve had this one for a while. I think it was about a month after telling Ja’Marr that he texted me saying he had something for me to pick up.” He opens the second box.

“He didn’t.” You look up at him in complete shock and take it out of his hands.

“Pure gold bracelet, anklet, and ring set, made by the same company in NOLA that made yours. It was so hard to keep it from you; every time you had a slight ache or pain that made your days long and tiring, I wanted to bring it out and cheer you up. Especially when we found out they went out of business. I know you wanted this for our baby girl so badly. J really pulled through with this one.” Your mom joins you, looking at the set in awe. 

“I didn’t even know he knew about that.” She whispers.

“Me neither.” You sniffle as your husband kneels, takes the small bracelet out, and clasps it around your baby’s wrist.

“There are more adjustable chains for when she outgrows this one, but for now, she’s perfect.” He smiles, kissing her tiny hand.

“What about this one?” Your mom points to the box he handed you first. 

“This one is from me to my beautiful bride, who I am forever thankful for and proud of for doing one of life’s hardest jobs and giving me my baby girl.” You blink away tears as he smiles and kisses your hand before sitting on the side of the bed and revealing the last item. “I told you you’d always be my queen. And since our princess already has hers..” 

“Tee, it's beautiful.” Your voice trembled as he lifted an almost identical replica of the tiara on your baby’s head onto your own. 

“Only the best for the loves of my life.” He wipes a fallen tear from your cheek and kisses your head. Shifting over in the bed, you gesture for him to sit closer, and he gladly scoots up next to you.

Sighing in pure contentment, you lay your head on his chest. “Thank you, " you replied softly, yawning, then gently passing the bag to your husband. 

“We gotta make sure the princess lives up to her name. Ain’t that right, Tiana?” He cooes holding her with one arm and you with the other, supporting her head with your body.

“Yea my little girl’s not gonna fall for those little f boy traps, nope. She has a daddy who will show her the universe, so no one can ever top it but yourself. My precious girl, Tiana...

You swiftly drift off into a deep sleep, listening to your husband make promises to her, knowing he will keep.

ʚ❤︎ɞ ᶫᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ ʚ❤︎ɞ

A few hours later, after you’ve rested and fed your baby, Tiana receives her first visitor.

“Hey, family, where’s my Titi?” Ja’Marr sings, walking in your room.

Rolling your eyes, you nudge your head to where Tee’s sitting on the lounge chair next to your bed. 

“There she is,” he grins, sitting on the edge of the bed to admire her. “Wow, she’s incredible. You did a great job, sis.” He says, handing you two bags.

“Thank you, and thank you. How was the rest of the game?” you ask, opening the bag of steaming food, which fills the room with a mouthwatering aroma, and digging into your Cajun fries.

“It was okay. Most of the guys were worried about you. But we won, so all is well. They even dedicated the win to baby Tiana.” He chuckles, removing the beanie from his head.

“Holy shit,” you gasp, causing some of the fries to fall onto your gown.

He looks back at you, confused. “What?”

“Oh right, I forgot to tell her you buzzed your hair too.” Tee mentions it as if it was nothing.

“Bro, seriously.” Your brother questions, earning a shrug from your husband.

You continue to stare at him in shock but resume eating. “Did you do it yourself too?”

He shakes his head. “Hell nah, not after what I did to him.” You snort, thinking about the impromptu shape-up you had to give your husband.

“Yeah Tiana didn’t enjoy it either; she kicked so much that day.” 

“Baby, you sure it wasn’t because you overloaded on sugar beforehand?” Tee smirked, stealing one of your fries.

Before you can respond, you hear a whine come from his arms. 

“Oh, I'm sorry, Tiana. Are we not paying attention to you?” You smile at his ‘baby voice’ and look over to watch them interact, like everyone else in the room.

“Damn, she looks exactly like you, Y/n. Especially with the gold.” Ja’Marr winks.

“I still can’t believe you kept them a secret from me for eight months. I cried for days when they announced that they were closing down. I don’t know if you're the best or worst brother doing this to me.” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. 

“I think I earned brother of the year with that set.” You snorted, shaking your head.

“Yea, no, not with that haircut. Now go hold your niece.” You ordered, shoving him off the bed.

“Hey, that’s fine by me. Come on,  Titi, it’s Uncle Marr time.” He gave Tee grabby hands until the baby was passed into his arms then he took the seat.

“Thank goodness you don’t look anything like your dad. You might have his last name, but you got all the good Chase features.” Your husband rolls his eyes, joining you on the bed.

Wrapping his arms around you, he sighs softly. “That’s my princess.”

“I know, honey. Think about this: she might not have it now, but when she gets older, I know she’s gonna have your amazing smile.” 

“You think so?” You nodded, then kissed his lips. 

“I know so because that’s the only expression she’s going to know. She’s going to learn that she has the best daddy who always makes sure her momma is smiling. She'll never have to worry with you by her side.” 

He chuckled, showcasing his award-winning smile. “I love you and Tiana so much.”

“We know, right, Titi?” Your daughter wiggled in her uncle’s arms, trying to find your voice, and then a slight whimper started to bubble.

“Oh, come on, Tiana, we were having a moment.” Ja’Marr pouts as the baby’s eyes start crinkling.

“I guess I’ll give you back now, but I will be back, Titi.” He mumbles, handing her to you.

“Oh, my precious princess Ti.”

﹌﹌﹌ ꕥ ﹌﹌﹌ ꕥ ﹌﹌﹌ ꕥ ﹌﹌﹌

a/n: I don't think I've ever worked on a fic as much and as hard as this one. I'm very glad it's finished, so yall enjoy. The final part of this mini series will be out next week!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and encouraged if you liked this fic.

[ellaa-writes]

konig and the reader are roommates; best friends with a slight attraction to each other. reader decides to go out clubbing with some girlfriends, showing off her tight dress to konig before leaving— which ultimately arouses him hardly ;))

konig let’s his dick get the best of him and goes through the readers pantie drawer (#pantiekink) and goes back to his room, jerking himself off to the reader’s panties.. and boom reader comes back early and catches him.

(show your post about writers block, though you could execute this idea perfectly)

So sorry this took so long to write. This ask was sent back in November. I got a little carried away while writing this. Love this prompt so much! Thank you for sending it in and hope you enjoy :) (not proofread) PART 2

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After a long week of writing essays, listening while your professors drone on and on and spending every waking second studying or working your part time job. Simply to say you were beat and exhausted. Wanting nothing more than to stay in, catch up on some z's and possible a few episodes of your new favourite show.

But atlas you received a last minute text from your BFF.

I'm picking you up at 8, better look cute.

Throwing yourself back on your bed, letting out a loud huff. Knowing damn well you won't be able to say no to her. A soft knock against the frame of the door brought your attention back to reality.

He was tall, brooding and all to yummy, as your friends say. Your roommate König stood in the doorway, taking up all the space. His head reaching right to the top of the frame.

"Hey, didn't here you come in." you said sitting up. You kicked your shoes off and began typing back your response.

"Got plans?" he inquired. Leaning into the frame, crossing his over his chest. Making every muscle tighten and bulge just how you like it.

"Hmm, Kate's dragging me to some bar most likely." you replied to him. "I better get ready now, knowing her she'll show up early." it wasn't a surprise that your friend group loved to show up at your place. They all loved to sit around and ogle your roommate.

After answering an ad in the university student paper, you found yourself being shown around a decently sized 2 bedroom apartment only a block away from campus. It was too good to be true and too good to pass up. The landlord explaining that the first room was already rented out. You didn't mind sharing with a male, he seemed more than tidy. And you needed away from the awful university dorm rooms.

First meeting König, that was one for the books. After hauling your belongings up the 3 flights of stairs. Of course the elevator would break the day your were moving in. Struggling to get the key in the door, only to be greeted by a 6'7 and 270 lbs man standing bare cheated in the kitchen. You damn nearly fell over. Needing a moment to catch your breath.

Kate went on and on for weeks about him. Telling you if you didn't make a move she will. You had to remind her she had a long term boyfriend and you were seeing someone at the time, which soon fizzled out.

"I don't understand why you never say no to her." he tried to rationalize. You pushed passed him on your way to the shared bathroom.

"It's better today yes than listen to her complain." you told him back. Shutting the door before he could say anymore.

You took a quick shower, making sure to shave every nook and cranny. Layering yourself in body butter and making sure to spritz extra perfume. You choose to leave your hair straight, and simple makeup.

Tapping your foot against the aged wood floor, having a hard time decided between a short tight black dress or to go more casual in shorts and a cute top.

"Go with the dress." König voice reached you from your door. Startling you out of your thought, causing you to drop the dress onto the floor. König walked right in, bending down to the floor and retrieving the skimpy black dress. Still on his knees he held it up for you to grab, his head was so close to your core which was now pulsing with desire. You cheeks were flushed as you snatched it out of his grasp.

"Thanks.." you said hesitantly, turning away from him. He left you in silence, closing the door on his way out. You pulled out matching pair of lace lingerie, the ones you buried deep in your dresser. A gift from Kate, you've never worn them so todays that day you do.

You took a deep breath before stepping out into the shared common area, König's attention was on the football (American soccer) game. The click of your heels drawing his attention away. You stood their, twirling your fingers around. Shrinking under his lustful gaze. König cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his pants.

"How do I look?" you asked bashfully, the heat of your blush rising up from chest and across your face. "You look...." he was lost for words, the way the dress hugged every curve. "You look beautiful." he stood from his seat, the fabric over his crotch pulling tight against his throbbing cock. He knew he shouldn't be having these thoughts about you.

But he couldn't help himself. From the moment he set eyes on you, he was entranced.

"Give me a little spin." he commanded. Taking two long strides, taking your hand into his and giving you a little twirl. The giggle that came out of your mouth went straight to his cock.

Bzzz BZZZZZZ

The apartment buzzer rang through the space, pulling yourself away you rushed to the com system. "I'll be right down." you yelled through it. Hearing a mixture of garble coming from the other end.

"I'll probably be home late, if not I might crash at Kate's. I'll try not to wake you." the words rushed out of you as you ran around grabbing the last minute items before shuffling out the door.

König didn't get a goodbye in, or a have fun. The pit of jealously boiling up in his stomach stopped him. He watched from the livingroom as you bundled into Kate's car, watching the tail lights disappear down the street. He turned his attention back to his football game. But he couldn't focus, the ache of his cock kept plaguing his thoughts.

Usually he reserved himself to either his or the shower. But he couldn't help himself, pulling out his throbbing cock. It was already hard as a rock, the tip angry and leaking just a bit. The first few strokes had him holding his breath. He needed more, abandoning his spot on the couch, dick exposed to the air. He found himself in your room. It was smaller than his, everything was messily thrown around. He made his way right to your panties drawer, digging in the back to find the black lace panties you hid.

He came back empty handed, the thought of you wearing them under the dress had his cock leaking down the front of his pants, making a mess. He settled on a satin pair, purple in color with a small rose in the front.

Seating himself back on the couch, panties wrapped tight around his member. Stroking himself with you panties, using his knuckles to muffle out his wonton moans. He was too focused on the duty at hand. He didn't hear the door unlocking and the soft click of your heals.

You walked down the hall towards the shared living area, seeing König still on the couch. Pulling the straps of your heels off you let the loudly clank to the floor. You were a little iratated but also thankful that the night didn't go as planned.

König's head shot around, eyes wide in horror to seeing you standing behind him. If you didn't know better, it was like you caught him in the middle of something. The closer you got, you understood why.

Konig had your favourite pair of panties in his fist. His leaking tip poking out the top, as fast as it happened he through a pillow over his lap to block your view.

Stumbling backwards you rushed out some apologies. Babbling on about giving him some space.

König didn't want space at all, he wanted you. His hungry eyes watching has the hem of your dress rose up your thighs, just about exposing you ass. He stood quickly, following you into your room.

"I'm so sorry." you kept repeating. The heat of the embrassment flushed on your face. König stood there, cock out as he tried to get you to look at him.

"OMG!" you screamed, quickly averting your eyes. "Doll look at me." he tried to get you to face him but you couldn't. "Can you please put it away at least." he found your question amusing. "Why? Does it scare you?" he asked back. You scoffed at him, but deep down it did just a little.

Yes you've seen a handful of cocks before but none of them compared to König's.

"No." you said quietly.

"Why don't you touch it a bit, it won't bite." he took a small step towards you. Your stained panties still in his hand.

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LMFAO ok he got a little pervy at the end. I kinda want to make a part two now.

[qui-gg]

that one post you made about lightbulb and how she made up her entire relationship with paintbrush until ep12 made me like her character a lot more soo has ur thoughts and opinions on lightbulb and maybe paintbrush changed since episode 15??

Thank you for this question and it definitely has, it’s just been taking me a bit to think and format into words exactly how to say this! But with ii16 releasing soon i should go through this now, so be prepared for a ramble.

Since i’ve made that post, I’ve gone through a few more realizations about the preexisting material itself. I should say it’s a bit dramatized when I said she made up the ENTIRE relationship- there was obviously something there since they’d known each other for a very long time, after all Paintbrush does say “we’re STILL friends”, but she moreso took it and ran with it to a level it was never at. I’ve never properly talked about my feelings on Alternate Reality Show here? But it’s my favorite episode and I have TOO MUCH to say. I’ll be bringing up key parts of my analysis though since this is about 15.

This episode features Lightbulb’s elimination, and so evidently that means it should be seeking a way to properly wrap up her story. It’s not the total focus of the episode, and neither is she the main character (she already had that in 12), but I think it was handled the best way it could have been. Initially when I watched the elimination in the Chicago theater (slack jawed and having my heart broken I was cosplaying Lightbulb😢) there was a lot running in my mind but the fact Lightbulb’s expectations had been subverted in the very best way was on the forefront. Leading up to 15, there was a lot of extra material released that pointed towards hyping up Lightbulb. She’s a very popular character so the average fan’s expectation is exactly what she mentioned in the episode, that she’d win for her team. The exit interviews of the flying buddies ALL point towards their expectations of Lightbulb to win- which I think was SO clever and must’ve been intentional. Lightbulb likely hasn’t seen these interviews, but I think on a meta level it’s for us to see and then Judge Lightbulb’s reaction to those expectations. Because as she does, she takes something as friendly and simple as what Test Tube said to her at the end of 14 and blew it out of proportion. Her friends are giving her encouragement to win of course, because that’s the nice thing to say and do when your friend is in a competition! But as we learn from 12, Lightbulb is seeking more from the game than just the game. She’s here for relationships first and foremost. And, we see that she has so much more of a thought process beneath the surface than we initially expect, that she is very observant and aware of her own feelings and others and takes that into account which presents as her backwards intentions in her quirky behavior, the stuff she does that doesn’t seem to make sense all has meaning. (We also see this exerted in one of my favorite Lightbulb appearances, the Jacknjellify upload of the 2022 meetup short, where there’s a scene of her in her own head through the situation. She recognizes she’s failing an interaction, gets insecure about it, and we see her make up a quirky lie in real time! It’s incredibly important LB material) She just prefers to distract herself from them the more intense they get because when things get more serious it is hard for her to be taken seriously or believe that she could be. And Test Tube is very important to all of this despite not speaking in 15 because Lightbulb’s relationship with her was one of the first that became Real. Test Tube recognized that Lightbulb was struggling most prominently as she alone had been on that journey with her and had that talk, she knew her heart wasn’t in the game for a long time. Which affects her actions towards her in 15! But I’ll get to that in a bit. The point i’m trying to make here is that it is the PERFECT SUBVERSION of audience expectations, that Lightbulb would be willing to win for her team, to reveal that instead she just wanted to go home and be with her friends. She had built up those expectations for herself too and thought EVERYONE (both her friends and on a metatextual level, the real fans) would be disappointed in her for feeling that way but it’s something you can see if you’re looking! Her reactions to all the flying buddies’ eliminations, in the 14 stream there’s a discussion about how she’s not doing well at all being all alone, She just disguised it! As usual! And punished herself for feeling different. And I need to emphasize IT IS THE PERFECT WAY TO GO TO ELIMINATE HER VIA LIE DETECTOR. That was one of the coolest things to me. LIGHTBULB, WHOSE FATAL FLAW IS THAT SHE CANNOT SAY WHAT SHE’S FEELING COMPLETELY STRAIGHT OR HONESTLY, WHO NEVER MAKES SENSE, is forced to fight for a position she doesn’t believe she deserves on a lie detector. My little analytical heart knew as soon as the challenge was revealed she was out. But again, the way it all played out was subversive in just the right way and accurate to her character and I couldn’t be more thankful.

Now it’s time for me to address the Lightbrush elephant in the room. I think Brian said it best on the Jazzy ii15 stream- why does a relationship need to be romantic in order for it to be special? There’s a lot there that is written into the show as is that doesn’t need a kiss scene to suddenly make it pay off or matter. So in this analysis i’m not here for Lightbrush at all. It’s best appropriate to look at it from the lens of a platonic friendship as it was intentionally written and portrayed in the show itself, not to speculate on things that aren’t there.

(Plus, i’m less of a fan of the ship these days. My relationship with it is complicated. I just adore Lightbulb and Paintbrush as characters too much)

Obviously it had to be Paintbrush who responded to the emergency signal. It wouldn’t make sense thematically for it to be anyone else. It was revealed by Brian on a few streams that Test Tube chose to tell Paintbrush to go answer the signal intentionally to help Lightbulb out, knowing that she was missing them and her heart was not in the game. I think it speaks to the strength of the flying buddies that they’re able to read each other like this! In III, we come to understand this is how Paintbrush was feeling after their elimination in 12 and solidified in their season 3 elimination, Their heart wasn’t in the game without meaningful relationships. Both of them were just seeking connection the entire time they were apart, and I think this has to go back to what I said in the post you mentioned that she made up their entire relationship with them. They both had a lot of regrets about the way their friendship worked before their first real connection in 12 before being separated, and spent so much time dwelling on how they could repair that but weren’t able to yet. So now that they have to chance to build that up again together they’re going to take it. I think the talk with her between Baseball Knife and Suitcase at the start of 15 is indicative of this as well, she questions Baseball about voting out Paintbrush, something she never previously expressed any anger about. But she’s not angry, she just has been thinking about it more. And also, that scene is incredible because I fully expected Lightbulb to be alone and misunderstood by the Grand Slams because they saw none of her development and hardly understood her but they approached her to see if she was doing okay and I was surprised! Very much a necessary step towards her decision in the end.

It is INCREDIBLY difficult for Lightbulb to be straightforward. When she’s clicking the pen that’s a coping mechanismmm and when she’s FORCED to say outright “I’m scared, and I need help.” That’s painful for her. Unnatural. Her behavior and method of presenting herself through quirks can’t just be turned off, it’s baked into who she is. And she doesn’t need to change that, she just needs to be seen and recognized and taken seriously anyway. Which makes it perfect when she chooses to eliminate herself with what else but a lie. It’s too hard for her to say “I don’t want to be here. I want to go back and stay with you all”, so she tests her resolve once and for all despite knowing in her heart she just wants to leave with them. She’s not giving up a million dollars just to go be with Paintbrush and I think that take is a bit degrading towards her character- This decision holds a lot of weight to her and the audience who expected a lot from her over the four years of buildup to her appearance here. But everything I mentioned previously built up to this choice, plus the point Taco had been making about leaving the game spoke to her but she chose to leave in her own way, not for the reasons Taco thought she should. And we see also at the end of the episode “today I think an old friend tried to show us she’s drowning” despite being scared of her earlier in the episode SHE STILL SEES TACO AS AN OLD FRIEND FROM SEASON 1! It’s so good that Lightbulb says that line so juicy. But that goes to show again Lightbulb is extremely observant of others. Also i love all of the ocean lingo and theming with her. I should post the Baxter essay sometime. ANYWAY! The point is Lightbulb didn’t make this choice lightly, she’s been toiling with it for three episodes now. She missed “her crew”. And she was always here for relationships and fun, not for the money or the game. She finally built something, and now she just wants to lay with it. She’s earned her rest.

I also need to mention the Dunce hat. Oh my god. Her exiting the show with a Label announcing her as an idiot, a perception so so many have of her and within the show, her friends previously had of her, but she doesn’t care because there are people who see through that, who see her! Sure she might not be understood by everyone for the way she is, but there are special people in her life who do. Lightbulb is such an incredible character.

I tried to keep this brief but of course it isn’t!! And this still feels like I haven’t said enough. But yes 15 was very good for Lightbulb and a great way to wrap up her story- even if it’s not technically over yet! We’ll see what happens in the movie. Thank you for reading this far!

[theambivalentagender]

Hello all! So if you follow me, you likely also follow my comic Valley Echoes as well as any of my other art drabbles. You may also know that I've been financially limping along for some time.

For context, my day job is dog grooming. It's a "career" I came into relatively recently and honestly love. However, my location has recently been incredibly dead. I haven't been able to make commission from lack of dogs and my hours have been cut drastically.

I'm currently looking into finding extra work where I can that will still fit with my technically full time schedule. This has been a big part of why the comic updates have slowed considerably in the last few months.

In the meantime, however, I did want to show that I am available for commissions at this time. This is the first time I'd be getting into commissions, so if folks do request I just ask for patience as I figure it all out, but I'd love to be able to draw your requests. I have a vgen account that's still being set up at the moment.

I also want to plug my Patreon again - honestly, the fact you all give this much for what I do now is incredible to me. I recently met the fun "milestone" of Patreon temporarily locking access to my withdrawals because I had made enough money this year to require filling out a tax form before my funds could be released, which I did. Maybe it's silly but it made me a little happy. I also have a Kofi though that's updated less.

This next part ended up being much longer and more personal than I expected so I'll put it under a cut.

Anything at this time would help immensely. Cost of living is insane, I just turned 30 and keep wondering how much longer I'll be able to keep renting, let alone ever saving to afford a home. I'm very, very lucky in that I have support from my dad, who has honestly been one of my strongest lifelines for years. But I obviously don't want to have to keep taking so much of that support from someone who should be enjoying retirement.

There are a lot of expenses I keep having, and things I'm putting off. The ipad I use for art has been cracked for months, but is still functional thank god. I recently finally bought myself clothes that aren't falling off my body after losing over 100 lbs in the last year. I have to buy and maintain my own tools for my grooming job, and I have to maintain my own health, both mentally and physically. My left hand/arm probably has nerve impingements and muscle strains science hasn't even named yet lmao. And of course there's taking care of my two terrible feline children who cause nothing but chaos in my home and who I love dearly.

Even if you don't give monetary support though, I so, so greatly appreciate every one of you who shares, likes, or comments on my work. I just recently got an anon who I mean to reply to soon gushing about they love Valley Echoes. Nothing makes my day more than waking up to see a million notifications that's just one person liking each of my comics as they read through it the first time.

Ever since I was 6 years old I wanted to be a storyteller in some way. I used to draw my own Dilbert and Far Side comics, and I constantly wrote wild fantasy stories. But after going through college, dealing with a huge amount of stress, burnout, and just one random person online telling me that I needed to hear the harsh "truth" that my writing skills were garbage, that spark was just gone. Excluding occasional stuttering starts, I didn't really write for years.

Doing this "silly" comic and getting the feedback I have is starting to rekindle that spark. I have so many stories of my own that I'm starting to make tentative plans on producing in some way. But even if I never become some official published recognized author, I feel like just putting out this comic is fulfilling that dream I had as a kid. So thank you again, as cheesy and long winded as this post has become.

[princess-of-the-corner]

God I forgot about Qilin. Cool asfk akuma, arguably one of Gabes best designs, dragged down by the fucking ticket inspection and bringing in the goddamn army. (As well as how the episode felt like it was written avid ACAB Enthusiasts)

my problem with the episode is that it's a bit all over the place in a few spots like.

Firstly take this with a grain of salt because I'm white af

Okay. This is supposed to be an episode about racism and the cops being harder on minorities. But it doesn't.... come across that?

The ticket inspector was initially doing his job. Sabine didn't have a bus ticket. Yes it's because Mari got off the previous stop with the tickets, but if he handwaved everyone who said 'oh I totally bought a ticket but I lost it'.......

Now he does get unreasonable after that, accusing her of being hostile, having her arrested instead of just printing a ticket, etc. But this is also a show where the 'you seem to have broken a law so you immediately get arrested' is not out of place. (I mean sometimes it is BUT it's a 'what works for the story' thing). Doubly so as the target audience is children who sometimes do think 'oh god oh god I sneaked one extra candy they're gonna send a full swat team and arrest me and I'm gonna go to jail!!'.

Then you have the whole thing of literally all the cops showing up for one lady and then the Akuma and then the cops ignoring LB and CN in favor of blasting the Akuma with weaponry despite months of the Heroes handling this on their own. Which at first seems out of place until you remember episodes like Rogercop where all the cops weren't mind controlled they just went 'yeah I guess the obviously Akumatized(controlled by supervillain) cop in a mech suit is in charge because the mayor, who he kidnapped, said so. Time to arrest the Heroes!!". So while it hasn't happened in a while, cops just acting Like That™ aren't out of place in this world.

And like. The ticket inspector is a rando who is only seen here going against Sabine, but we have no idea how he'd act with a white guy breaking the same law. And Roger has been shown to be corrupt as hell toward white people(specifically the Couffaines who as far as we know are white). So it doesn't quite get the message across that this is out of the norm.

Then you have Marinette having to apologize to the ticket inspector who, at this point, is now much more reasonable of 'well she did technically break the law by riding the bus without ticket or ID, but given the circumstances we'll let it go' but Mari insists on paying the fine like he was in the right.

Honestly I feel like this episode suffers from not being direct about what the issue is. Yes it's implied that it's a racism thing, yes most of the audience including the kids will probably pick it up. But when you give that much wiggle room on 'what is motivating this character's actions', then combine it both with stuff that's /supposed/ to be extreme but is par for the course in the series and the protagonist apologizing to the guy who instigated all of this.... it gets very mixed and it can get lost and make people who do see the allegories wonder if they're just reading too much into things.

And I don't know exactly where to place the blame on. Did the writers pull back to try and make the situation more 'relatable to everyone' thus making it relate to no one? Was it a bigger thing of the studio or S&P saying 'hey you can't depict real racism in a kids' show'?

I mean either way there's some blame on the writers for the other flaws like Mari apologizing and undercutting anything the ticket inspector did wrong. But still.

[pilot-boi]

Hey,

First off glad you're enjoying my spin on your Jauniper (FINALLY SPELLED IT RIGHT!)... but I have a few questions...

You've mention Jauniper is about the size of a horse, so that should put his weight around 900 to 1,200 pounds IF he was well fed. So can assume he's weighing in around say 600-800 lbs in his pre-Haven days? Or should it be less?

2. Obviously he has claws on his hind and forelimbs. What about his hands? Does he have rabbit-like claws on his fingers?

3. I've been assuming Jauniper can move as the speed of a hare/rabbit (which is about 45 mph) and can jump a similar distance (10-12 ft and up to 10 ft high)... of course I'm using the exceptions for North American Hare/Rabbit varieties. Do these fall in line with your vision of the "Hares Breadth Au"?

3. I'm thinking of doing a couple more "shorts" and was wondering if I can use a couple of your Jauniper illustrations for the collection page.

Again thank you for letting me have some fun with your AU. It is really interesting, and look forward to more stories and info dumps.

Oh hello!! Question and answer time :]

1. When he’s well fed, he actually weighs around 700-1000 pounds, more wild horse weight than thoroughbred. Only the muscles he needs to live, not extra ones for work/racing. That’s how I’m factoring in the fact that he’s a rabbit, not actually a horse

So pre-Haven he’d probably be hovering around 500. If it wasn’t for the significant bunny fluff, he’d look pretty emaciated

2. He does have little rabbit claws on his hands! I’ve been drawing them that way at least. Once he’s back in civilization he keeps them filed to keep from cutting people accidentally. Not filed all the way gone, just blunt. Obviously, they’re quite sharp before he reaches Mistral with the others

3. Those speeds, but the jumps are different He probably can jump 6-8 feet forward, and he can’t jump NEARLY that high. Rabbits can jump that high cause they weight like eight pounds. Jauniper weighs more than 500. So yeah, he can jump higher than a human because he’s built different, but he can’t jump ten feet into the air

Most of his “stats” I’m basing off of wild horses, because based on how CRWBY designed Juniper, her anatomy is more similar to a horse’s than a rabbit’s. So her speed, weight, etc. would be comparable

4. Sure! Go ahead and use one of the pieces, granted you credit me properly (link to the original piece, tag me, etc.)

Can’t wait to see what else you do!

[s4tvrnsays]

Hero lineup!! Featuring some extra cigognelles bc shes too pretty not to draw

I originally planned on doing both the hero and civilian designs and then posting, but im too lazy and impatient so here u go

My longggggg thoughts and extra doodles down below, as always :333

OKAY!

So here are some things i kept in mind while designing them! Its nothing extraordinary but i like hearing people talk abt this stuff so i thought others would enjoy it too

While designing the three of them, i didnt exactly keep any inspiration for their designs (other than cigognelle, sorry lb and cn…) but there were some things i DID want, ill go through them here.

It was also pretty important for me that they look cohesive, because they DO have the big three miraculouses (i do like the idea of the other heroes joining, no zodiac miraculous tho)

I also pointed out some parts of the design that might be missed bc im obsessed

Ladybug:

One thing i wanted to incorporate was LESS SPOTS!!! Movie chat was right she DOES look like a watermelon

I also remembered mr bug’s suit and how he had armor on, and i really liked that idea! In my mind, the shoulder pads and breastplate are made of some sort of hard material, something synthetic.

And i also made her look more like a ladybug, with antennae. The little spikes are similar to the little hairs on insects, though ladybugs themselves dont have them (the little segments on their legs are joints, and i didnt rly like the look of them on a suit). This is mainly so she looks more insecty

The lines on her suit are inspired by spiderman!! As another insect themed hero, it was fun to make ladybug similar to him in that aspect. Expect to see her in spiderman poses in my art lol

Cigognelle:

Her look is inspired by ballet, because is there truly anything more graceful and crane-like than that?

I had my eye on specifically 1920s theatre and ballet costumes. Her hair, her hat (yes its a hat lol), her heels, etc

I thought it really fit her style, and her mostly black and white color scheme

Speaking of color scheme, i was REALLY surprised when i found out how perfect her colors were. The black and red are both colors that chat and ladybug have, and i thought it fit really well, considering her role :)

The little daggers she has are in the shape of a crane beak

And of course, heels. Because she slays

Chat Noir:

Now, chat’s suit didnt really change much. Im in love with his actual suit, but i’d still make a few changes

Same as ladybug, i wanted to add in more elements from a cat. Again, his suit does this really well (the PAW TOES!!!!!! Im literally obsessed) so i only added some fur on his shoulders, wrist, and on his boots.

The little cat buckle on his concept design is far too cute, so i added it back, this time as a solid silver one for simplicity

I added some little silver studs around his suit, like his arms and mask and also his ears (it doesn’t show tho)

And lastly, i brought in more green into his design, cuz its more fun that way!!!

I feel like my throat is dry somehow from all that typing

Anywayssssss here are the doodles :3

Theyre so precious to me u dont understand

[sereneshymn]

ooc; headcanons - a little analysis of Rafiel

Sorting out my thoughts about this boy and all his abilities (and problems).

Full name: Rafiel of Serenes

Title: Crown Prince of Serenes (formerly); King Consort of Hatari

Current occupation: Infirmary assistant and counselor at the Officers Academy

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES

Age: 133; apparent: 26-27

Species: Bird laguz – Heron

Height: 175 cm / 5’ 9”

Weight: ~45kg / ~99 lbs

Herons live around 300 years on average, meaning Rafiel is less than halfway through his lifespan. With regards to physical aging, he will change very slowly, both due to that and due to the general nature of the Herons. He will look more or less the same he does now for almost the next century. He will not begin to look middle-aged until he passes 220 or so years, and only in the last couple decades of his life will he get traits like sunken cheeks, some wrinkles and white hair.

Yes, he is extremely light for his size. We know from Path of Radiance that Herons weigh a lot less than one would expect them to, with Leanne – a Heron with the build of a young but still fully grown woman – weighing about half of what Mist does, according to Ike. In my personal headcanons (that I of course will not force upon other muns) all Bird laguz weigh less than they would seem at first glance, but Herons weigh least of all.

Eyes: Celadon

His gaze is, usually, calm and serene. Appears a little dreamy, perhaps even a bit sleepy – and yet, at the same time, you may feel as though he sees right through you. Some people would be very uncomfortable in a staring contest with him. He knows that, however, and purposely avoids looking at people too intently.

Ears: Pointy

Hair: Blond, wavy. Long, almost to his knees

Extremely soft to the touch, like silk.

Contrary to what some might think, it doesn't require much maintenance.

General body build: Slim, lean

Again, he isn’t underweight, but he lacks pretty much any muscle at all beyond the bare minimum that he should have as a (relatively) healthy person.

His skin is very soft to the touch. It also bruises quite easily under most pressure.

To quote Ike again, he gives the impression that you could hurt him by shouting. He feels breakable, for lack of a better term. You look at him and by default feel the need to be careful when making contact with him.

His behavior and attitude further strengthen that impression. He does flinch in response to sudden loud noises, he is fully aware of his physical weaknesses and shortcomings and his need to rely on others for many things, he does not hide his emotions, and he does the thing where he’ll apologize for apologizing.

Wings: Pure white. Large, about the same length as his height.

If one looks more closely, it becomes quite clear that his wings are not healthy, and a flying professional may notice that he is flightless just by looking at him. His feathers – including flight feathers – are thin, almost translucent in places, and someone who knows a thing or two about birds or pegasi can recognize that those feathers will not facilitate flight. They also feel soft and weak to the touch, and get easily damaged.

In his transformed state, this applies to all feathers covering his body.

In addition, he has almost no muscle in his wings in comparison to the likes of Reyson and Leanne. Heron wings would, of course, not be particularly strong in general – but if one of Rafiel’s siblings allowed you to touch their wings, you could still feel enough muscle to allow for the effort that comes with flight. Rafiel’s wing muscles have all wasted away due to illness and more than twenty years of not being used at all. Even just a few flaps are tiring to him.

At most, Rafiel’s wings can give him some extra lift when jumping, which he uses when climbing up ledges or trees, and reaching upper shelves. They would also allow him to safely glide down from a height.

ABILITIES

Soothing aura. It’s something he exudes just by existing; he emanates a calming presence that may help with preventing violence and solving conflicts. Strong negative emotions or chaotic energies of the people around him can still override it, however, in which case he will begin to feel unwell. Integrating gameplay and lore, I consider the Heron’s healing passive skill, Blessing, to be a part of this ability. In times of need, the Heron may choose to release more of this power, making it strong enough to heal wounds.

Heart-reading & emotional resonance. By peering into the hearts of others, Rafiel can discern their true feelings and hidden thoughts, as well as recognize lies. His ability in this regard is quite strong, which we can see in the game in his battle conversation with Sephiran, where he recognizes the other’s true identity regardless of his attempt to hide it. And indeed, some information will reach him no matter what, with him able to recognize a suffering person or a broken heart straight away. He avoids consciously using his power more than necessary and without warning people, however, as peering into the hearts of others without their knowledge is generally considered a rude thing to do among the Herons, what with it being a rather serious breach of privacy.

Singing galdrar & Seid magic. Ability that comes naturally with being a Heron, made particularly strong due to him being a royal Heron. Rafiel can sing all galdrar known to the Heron Clan – Vigor, Bliss, Sorrow, Valor, Recovery, as well as Galdr of Rebirth and Galdr of Slumber. With regards to Galdr of Release, he knows the melody and lyrics, but does not have the power to actually use it to its effects. He also knows all the other galdrar and songs, including the Repose of Souls – an elegy to bring peace to the souls of the departed – and the sinister Dirge of Ruin, which could bring a devastating curse to those affected at the cost of Rafiel’s sanity and most likely life. I imagine personally that there are plenty other melodies that the Herons know, and also Rafiel infuses most melodies he sings with seid magic, so he’s able to sing soothing songs, lullabies to help others fall asleep, and others. He utilizes those skills in the infirmary to help the sick and injured who come for help. As a note – nothing at all is ever said about what exactly “seid magic” is, but given that the word “galdr” has Old Norse roots (it’s the word for “magic” or “spell”), I’m assuming that the root of “seid” is also Old Norse, namely “seiðr”, a word that may sound familiar to FEH players. “Seiðr” was a type of magic used in Norse society during the Iron Age, related to both telling and reshaping the future – which fits with the way galdrar work. Rafiel’s abilities are shown to be stronger than those of Reyson and Leanne, which fits with him being the eldest as well as Serenes’ crown prince. Gameplay-wise this is shown by how he can always refresh four allies regardless of what form he’s in, but we can see it in the story when he cures the raging Muarim by singing the Galdr of Rebirth, which is normally supposed to be too taxing and complex to be performed by a single Heron. Reyson is able to sing it alone to Renning, but only when the world is petrified and the spirit of order hangs over the land, and also after being allowed a period of preparation; Rafiel sings it to Muarim alone without receiving a prior warning, and in the middle of wartime.

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

Master Chief drabble inspired by @bloodgulchblog and this post. John doesn't introspect often, but when he does, it's a bit like heartburn.

-

It's late when John heads back to Blue Team's quarters. Briefings, reports, responsibilities; all the things Team Leader is used to shouldering seem to weigh a little heavier these days. Bad news pours in from all sides and allies seem fewer and far between.

Restlessness is not a luxury he can usually afford, but aboard the Infinity is the closest he's felt to safe in a long time. It also still means he'll patrol if possible. Even among his team, John doesn't want to spend any extra time in small rooms, and there's always work to be done.

He's not alone as he travels silently down gunmetal gray halls, but by this time most of the crew is changing shifts or used to Spartans moving. John's aware of how they look at him; the IIs move differently than the IVs but to the techs on their way to the hangars he's just another 7ft tall, 350 lbs of muscle to stay out of the way of.

Funny how being out of the armor helps him stay invisible.

There's movement down an auxiliary hallway that catches his eye, but he dismisses it when he sees troopers huddled together, handing off contraband and the like. John pauses and notes the cameras, the vents, and the blindspots. Not amateurs then, though it's hard to tell these days. They all look so young.

His eyes catch flashes of packaging before it's shoved into pockets or down shirts and the group disperses. Tobacco gum, self-lighting cigarettes, and other nicotine sources disappear along with nondescript datachips and small flasks. They don't notice him - he would have lost his touch if they had - and the group splits off, nonchalance a little too forced.

He'd make a comment, spook em a bit while he's this nameless Spartan who caught them. Some old, ugly sonuvabitch with weird eyes, too many scars popping out of the shadows wasn't a fun encounter or so he'd been told.

At least he would have if he didn't freeze in place as someone lit up and the too familiar smell of a Sweet William cigar hit his nose for the first time in over five years.

The pungent odor - old boot-sock smoked over a dung-fire - hit him full force even if the marine smoking it was down the hall. It sat in his sinuses, and the scar on his chest hurt as he jerked away.

John had known several people to have smoked those cigars - most of them were dead now. And with his luck he was there when it happened.

There were a lot of memories tied up with that scent. Johnson, of course. He had always seemed to have them on him, always smoking so much John often considered commenting about him giving them away. It was a scent that was tied to the man's presence, be it in a dropship, on the ground, or stopping by to drop off a tank. The first time John himself had tried one of the cigar, he had been 15 years old and ended up coughing so hard from the first draw that he reopened his neck wound.

Johnson had showed him how to be a leader then.

Mendez had smoked them too, and Captain Keyes. Mendez had them in his desk in his office on Reach. Halsey hadn't liked them, and like with most things, she would make her opinions clear. But that had been a lifetime ago. John didn't like to dwell on how he became what he was today. It was necessary, but the reminders of the human elements, the smoke drawing up old memories, made him uncomfortable.

He'd lived his whole life around foul-mouthed, paranoid, contraband using marines and ODSTs. He had been honored to serve with those men and women. Tobacco was passed around as often as MREs no matter the campaign. It was familiar even after all this time.

Even Captain Keyes had his pipe, the lingering scent of tobacco on the bridge of the Autumn. Cigars weren't his main staple, but John had come to associate him among the men who smoked them.

It had been forever and only a few short months since he had been in the presence of a lit Sweet William.

His chest burns, something more than regrown skin over the burn scar. He leaves - as silently as he arrived. The crewman continues to enjoy his contraband, smoke rising into the vent above, going to be scrubbed and recycled back.

-

Thanks for reading! There's an updated and finished version of this fic here.

[thelostgirl21]

So, I learned something new about "skinny white men" today, and I wasn't ready!

Basically, there's this video of 3 gay men trying to figure out who the secret bottom is in a group of 5 other gay dudes.

And, around the 1:45 mark, one of them goes:

"I'm going to say that he's a top, only because... I don't know if people know this about skinny white men, they tend to..."

While the other guy is like "I was thinking the same thing..."

And the one in the middle is confused going "What?"

And I'm right there with him, because the very moment they said "skinny white men" my mind immediately went to this character:

And now, it's clear that I've absolutely got to know why they think "skinny white men" tend to make especially great top material, apparently. For headcanons science, you know?

And I have no idea what I was expecting (if you want to listen to the episode before I spoil the answer for you, go watch it now)...

...but skinny white men having such long dicks that it's like extra appendages wasn't it!

And then, them appreciatively going "there's something good under there" while more or less hoping that he's a top, so he can put it to use more often, just about killed me!

Later, around the 6:35 mark, when they are asking him about what his favorite positions are, he's also the only one that answers "laying down doggy style" (and actually has to explain what that means).

"Laying down doggy style" (also called "flat doggy style") has a few variations but, in the way he's explaining it (i.e. completely lying down on top of his partner), it reduces the depth of penetration, and apparently some bottoms love it, because the weight of their partner on top of them basically feels like they have this warm, comforting, "heavy blanket" covering them during sex.

So it's... actually a very good choice for someone who enjoys topping, has a really long dick (therefore losing some penetration depth won't be an issue) and who is skinny enough that they can fully lie down on top of their partner without crushing them under their weight!

So... while he never confirmed if what they said about "skinny white men" was true, let's just say that his answer is suspiciously compatible with the stereotype!

And now, I've apparently decided that "Yup! Radovid is going to totally fit that skinny white man stereotype, too!", because I really can't help but think that it would be kind of one of the most perfect sexual positions for Radovid and Jaskier!

Assuming, of course, that Jaskier enjoys bottoming (my headcanon is that he does, although more as a verse than as a strict bottom... I'd tend to really see Radovid as a verse, too), having Radovid's full (or near full) weight on top of him while they are having sex, with Radovid being able to nibble on his ears, kiss his neck, fully embrace him, bodies flush against each others, and being extra cuddly and affectionate is definitely something I could see them both doing and greatly enjoying.

And yeah, it does nicely tie into my "Jaskier has ADHD" headcanon, because as someone with ADHD myself, I'm literally obsessed about the sensation of being "squished", and respond extremely well to deep pressure therapy/stimulation (I recently discovered a 15 lbs open weave knit weighted blanket that I use every night to fall and stay asleep, and wonder how I've ever been able to manage without it!).

This article about ADHD love languages has a very nice way of phrasing it:

Please Crush My Soul Back Into My Body—Physical Touch ‘Please Crush My Soul Back Into My Body’ is often better known as applying deep pressure.  Techniques like deep-pressure hugs can often be incredibly soothing, instilling feelings of security, comfort, and safety in a loved one. What it means to someone neurodivergent: Although deep pressure is not only for neurospicy folks, they tend to enjoy and need it more than neurotypical people. The deep pressure from a tight hug, a weighted blanket, etc., helps produce feel-good hormones, such as oxytocin, serotonin, and dopamine, and decreases stress hormones like cortisol.

And with everything they've both been through and seen, I've no doubts that Jaskier and Radovid likely both suffer from some form of PTSD.

And maybe there are nights where Jaskier has a particularly hard time falling asleep, and/or keeps waking up because he's having nightmares, and they've discovered that having Radovid affectionately make love to him in that position really helps soothe Jaskier's nervous system, helps him relax, and simply floods his body with "love" and "feel good" hormones, so he's then able to actually fall asleep and spend a good night.

Of course, they likely wouldn't know the whole science behind why it's working, but they'd be able to observe the effects it has on Jaskier.

And given how Jaskier's body looks physically "cushier" than Radovid's, I'm guessing that Radovid would be much more comfortable and happier being the one lying down on top of him in those moments, too.

Like if the boys are going to go for the suspended congress position, I'd fully expect Jaskier to do the lifting and topping!

But if they're going flat doggy style, Radovid just might be Jaskier's perfect top!

[andopandor]

On Thick Ice

My first gay gainer story, let me know what you think. Sorry for low quality images :(

After hockey practice, Oscar exits the locker room and makes his way to the exit of the arena. He's exhausted but satisfied after a hard day's practice. Standing at 6'2", Oscar is the epitome of a college ice hockey star. His long dark hair is messy from practice and his eyes are intense and focused. He has a toned athletic build, with broad shoulders and well-defined abs. But despite being known for his physical prowess, Oscar secretly wishes he could let it all go. He wants to be able to eat whatever he wants and put on the pounds like the rest of his college friends.

On his way out, Oscar bumps into Clay, who's busy closing up the arena concession stand where he works. Clay apologizes profusely, but Oscar waves it off with a smile. Both of the men had noticed each other previously, and were eager to exchange a few friendly words. As they small talk, Oscar's stomach suddenly rumbles and he realizes that it's time for his post-practice snack. Turning to Clay, he asks, "Hey, I'm really sorry, but I'm starving. Do you have any food left?"

Clay nods, always enthusiastic to help a hungry guy out. In fact, he took special pleasure in watching the college hockey team bulk up during the off-season - if only they didn't always cut again before October. "Take a seat, I've got just the thing to hit the spot after a long day of practice." With that, Clay turns around and heads to the back room of the concession stand. He quickly assembles two large, juicy cheeseburgers and a mountain of thick-cut fries. As he returns to the front counter, he can't help but steal a glance at Oscar, wondering how much he could make this handsome hockey star eat.

As Clay sets the food in front of Oscar, the athlete can't help let out a moan of delight. "God, that smells amazing," he breathes, his stomach rumbling loudly. He quickly digs in, taking huge bites of the burger and swallowing fries two at a time. He lets out satisfied grunts between each bite, feeling the weight of the food settle comfortably in his belly.

As Oscar tucks into his meal, Clay feels a little thrill watching him enjoy it so much. He clears his throat, suddenly feeling a bit bold. "So, you know, if there's anything else you're in the mood for, just let me know. I mean, we've got soda, shakes, ice cream... it's on the house." He smiles, hoping he's not being too forward.

Oscar pauses mid-chew, his cheeks still bulging with food. He swallows and looks up at Clay, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh really? You know, I've always had a thing for your banana milkshakes... and I wouldn't mind having it nice and thick, with extra whipped cream." He licked his lips, his gaze never leaving Clay's. "Would you be able to make that for me?"

There's an electric charge in the air as Clay holds Oscar's gaze for a second longer. He wonders if Oscar is as into this as he is, feeling a rush of excitement at the idea of this handsome hockey star throwing away his toned body over Clay's food. A flush creeps up Clay's neck as he mentally pictures Oscar 50 lbs heavier. He nods, unable to form words for a moment.

"Yes, yes, of course! I'd be happy to make that for you." Clay hurries to the counter, grabbing two glasses and a pitcher of ice cream from the back. He pours the thick, creamy mixture into the glasses, topping them off with whipped cream and a cherry. He places the shakes in front of Oscar and lingers a moment, watching Oscar take the first sip. The way the athlete closes his eyes in pleasure, softly moaning around the straw... it's all too much for Clay. He returns to the service counter, trying to regain his composure.

As Oscar takes another sip of his shake, he notices that Clay is a bit flustered. He decides to tease the concession worker a bit, seeing how cute he looks when he's turned on. With a satisfied groan, Oscar takes a big stretch, his jersey riding up to reveal his expanding stomach. He slaps it a few times contentedly. "Mmm... that feels good," he murmurs, grinning at Clay's wide-eyed expression. "It's amazing any of us are still fit enough to play, with you working here." He takes another deep sip, savoring the taste and the power he has over the concession worker.

Clay's heart pounds in his chest as he watches Oscar slowly rub his stomach. He's almost certain that Oscar is purposefully playing with his emotions, but he needs to make sure. "So, Oscar," he asks, "did you have plans after practice, or...?"

Oscar only smiles and lifts an eyebrow, inviting Clay to continue.

"Or do you want to hang around and... I can show you around the kitchen?"

Clay knows it's a transparent excuse to move somewhere more private, but when he sees the spark in Oscar's eyes, he can tell that the athlete understands his implications exactly. With a nod and a grin that promises all kinds of mischief, Oscar stands and follows Clay to the back room of the concession stand.

As Oscar walks, he can feel his newly bloated belly filling out his compression shirt in a way it's never done before. As the fabric brushes against the smooth skin, Oscar is surprised to feel a hard-on growing against his pants. He's already stuffed to his limit, yet strangely he wants more.

The back room is dimly lit and quiet, offering the two men some privacy. The air between them crackles with anticipation, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Clay speaks up first. "You can sit down over there, I've got something for you." Clay has noticed the athlete's round belly and developing erection, and decides that it's his turn to take charge.

Clay disappears into the shadows for a moment, only to emerge with a large flat box in his hands. "What's in there?" Oscar asks.

Clay smirks. "I have all these warm chocolate chip cookies that won't be any good tomorrow. If no one eats them, we'll just have to throw them away..."

Oscar peers inside the box. There are around two dozen in there. His erection presses harder at the thought of eating them all. He laughs, a warm sound that sends shivers down Clay's spine. His voice is husky with desire. "Well, I guess we should find a way to get rid of those cookies then. Good thing I always have room for dessert."

Suddenly, Oscar pulls Clay onto his lap with surprising strength. Clay gasps, feeling Oscars growing body pressed against his own. He can feel the athlete's erection warm against his thigh, and he knows his own is equally obvious at this point. He takes one of the fresh, buttery cookies and holds it up against Oscar's lips. Oscar chews and swallows it greedily, and then another. And another.

In between devouring cookies, Oscar peels off his practice jersey and pulls up the shirt underneath, allowing his distended belly to breathe. Clay begins to massage Oscar's stomach, feeling its warmth and solidity. "Don't eat too much," he warns, his voice teasing. "You don't want to get fat, do you?"

Oscar groans, his belly tingling against Clay's soft touch. "I will be, if you keep feeding me," he manages to say through a mouthful of cookie. He takes another bite, and another, relishing the feel of Clay's hands over his expanse of skin. The athlete moans deeply with desire, enjoying both the soft, creamy cookies and Clay's gentle touch.

Not long later, to both of their shock, there are only four cookies left. Oscar's belly is solid as rock and feels like it has doubled in diameter. "Fuck, I'm full... I can't eat any more," he complains, but Clay lifts another cookie to his lips. He can tell that Clay won't stop feeding him until he's eaten every cookie in the box - and deep inside, Oscar wants to give up all control to Clay, to let him destroy his athletic body.

Clay smirks, relishing the power he has over Oscar at this point. Another two cookies move from the box into Oscar's stomach. "Maybe just one more," Oscar murmurs, closing his eyes and opening his mouth in anticipation.

As Clay feeds Oscar the last cookie, his other hand finds its way down to Oscar's crotch, feeling the heat and hardness through his hockey shorts. His fingers move to undo the straps and strings.

As his pants spill open, Oscar's round belly swells, finally free to take up its proper space. With the release in pressure, Oscar moans in pain and pleasure. "I'm fucking stuffed," he gasps, his voice thick with lust.

Clay's hand finds its way to Oscar's cock, hard through his boxers, teasing it. Oscar arches forward, offering himself to the other man. He is unbelievably aroused. "Please," he whispers, "let me fuck you.

Clay's fingers dance across Oscar's tight belly, tracing patterns that ignite a fire in his groin. Clay leans in, kissing Oscar's neck, his lips trailing down to his collarbone. "You're so fucking fat and gorgeous," he whispers, "I want to feel you on me, feel your weight on top of me." He continues to massage both Oscar's belly and cock, moving faster now, his touch more urgent. He pulls down the waistband of Oscar's underwear, revealing his cock, hard and ready. "I want to feel you inside of me."

Their eyes meet, and in that moment, the tension snaps. They both know what needs to happen next. With a growl, Oscar grabs Clay's hair and pulls him close, their lips crashing in a fierce kiss. Clay feels Oscar's swollen body against his, feels the hockey player's inflated torso against his own. He gasps as Oscar's thick cock slides inside him. He pushes back against Oscar, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor.

Yet his hands remain on Oscar's thick belly, exploring its girth. He can't believe that this is really happening. He did this. He made Oscar grow like this. He has never been so turned on in his life. He can feel the other man's control slipping, feel the desperation building inside him. He wants it to go on forever, but he knows neither of them can last much longer.

With a final urgent thrust, Oscar releases inside of Clay, and Clay finishes moments later, spilling across Oscar's smooth belly. Oscar pants heavily to catch his breath, his gut heaving. Clay leans forward to kiss Oscar, feeling his massive dome of a belly underneath him. They remain there for a while, feeling the weight of each other, the warmth of their skin, the rhythm of their breath.

After a moment, Clay carefully disentangles himself from Oscar and helps him straighten up, a challenging task with his belly in the way. Oscar leans into Clay, kissing him softly on the lips. "That was... incredible."

Clay flushes, but can't help the smile spreading across his face. "See you next week after practice, then?"

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

Extra commentaries for "Untitled" (Portrait of Ross in L.A.)

a work that creates a metaphor for the loss of the artists partner by AIDS. There's a mass of candy equal to Ross at a healthy weight and gallery visitors are invited to take pieces of candy, dwindling the weight of the work to mirror Ross' drop in weight as his illness progressed. (cesiousblue)

I had to just kind of sit there trying to remember how to breathe for a few minutes after seeing it for the first time (courfeyracs-swordcane)

The themes of consumption in this work really get to me. It can be made by anyone, using the instructions of the artist, collecting a number of pieces of candy that weigh a total of 175 lbs, the weight of his partner who died that same year. This art hits me like a brick. (envelopedbyoblivion)

untitled (the one with the pile of candy) especially fucks me up bc of the extremely varied interpretations of it. my art history teacher told me that it represented someone spreading joy through ppls lives. a friend of mine said they viewed it as someone deteriorating due to aids-related complications. et cetera. either way it just feels so emotionally intense. (anonymous)

so this isn’t going to be articulated well especially since I’m not that familiar with conceptual art but I’m gonna try because I think it’s so incredible!!!! For a long time when I was younger I dismissed art like this and many pieces that fell under the modern art umbrella because I couldn’t really see the value in like, a dot on a piece of paper or what seemed like a random object placed in a room that someone decided was art for no particular reason. I never examined it and kinda dismissed it for being “low effort”, but this piece completely changed my mind and I was like holy shit I get it now! To elevate the seemingly ordinary, a pile of candy, into something so heartbreakingly meaningful, a portrait of his lover Ross who he lost to AIDS, is so meaningful! I feel like that’s so often what grief is, not the delicately crafted tributes that remind you of who you lost, but the ordinary objects that suddenly become imbued with so much meaning and sadness because they remind you of what’s been lost. It’s not to say that it’s not a delicately rendered portrait, because it is! But it’s like, not a portrait in the painting sense? It’s a snapshot of living with grief, without it it’s just a pile of candy, but when you carry that grief it becomes so much more. Another thing that I really like about this piece is that to me it’s less like a typical visual art piece and more like a song kinda? and as someone who was unfamiliar with conceptual art before seeing this, I think that’s so cool!? There is no “original” or one canvas that is The Art. If you place a pile of wrapped candies that weighs 175 pounds in a room, you now have “Untitled” (Portrait of Ross in L.A.). I realize a lot of conceptual art is like this, but this piece opened my eyes to that. I want to say more about the meaning of creating art that can persist anywhere when so many artists effected by HIV/AIDS were silenced or diminished, and how this piece also uses the audience in a really interesting way, but this is already way too long (sorry for rambling!). I really recommend reading up on this piece and it’s history. (anonymous)

A popular compliment/comment on art (at least in my tumblr circles) is 'i want to eat this art' and often it is illustrated or worded in a hedonistic tear into it wildly and animalistic eating way and thats great but this art is one I want to take one single 'bit', and let it savor on my tongue, put a hand on my stomach and think about how thankful i am to have gotten this bite. As a queer person its one of this installations i cant think about to long and not cry. I am young, too young to have lived through the AIDS crisis (as in the crisis of governments actively working against their people). Its an interactive piece of art and this kind of art always make me crazy the most (of course all art is interactive. the act of looking changes stuff already as we know from physics. looking and thinking about it is interacting) - you are invited to take one of the candy bits symbolising Ross. and on one hand that may sound horrifying to eat away a person who already had so much taken away, you take the part of the sickness of the government neglect. But as a queer person interacting i think about how matter never really goes away, things just transform. You take a piece. You eat it or share it with someone and you remember. You make him part of you. Queer community lost a lot because of AIDS but not all is lost, this work and others like the Quilt are remembrance, the galleries are stipulated to have the pile replenished - so Ross stays 'alive' and able to share bits of his history with people as long as the art work remains - and that makes me emotional (anonymous)

[black-rose-writings]

I've had this idea about how the show would have been massively improved by making one little change.

The show, especially it's second season, feels boring, pointless. The only driving point of the whole season 2 is to yell "Darkling Bad". They obviously don't care about established characters, the worldbuilding or lore. Definitelly not about Grisha oppression.

So, what small change would give even the slightest hint of a point and theme to it all, a theme that transcends the creators' need to shit on their most popular character?

Make Alina Aleksander's daughter.

Narratives about cycles of abuse and generational trauma are really popular these days, so instead of making it a story about shitting on the Darkling, make it a story about how Ilya being a shitty father and a mad scientist literally fucked over the rest of the world. Instead of making the show a story about destruction of Morozova's legacy, make it a story about it's redemption.

(Again, my ideal version of the story would be one that works with the themes, characters and plots of the original books and expands on them in a way LB was too much of an american lib to do, but this is "how to make the show better with as few changes as possible")

First, some tweaks to Alina's backstory to account for this change (well, giving her a backstory pre-Keramzin):

There was a more open conflict with Shu Han like 25 years ago, that required Aleksander's presence. During his stay, he spent a few nights with a local woman (possibly anonymously initially, but she did end up finding out who he was, this is important) of Shu descent (though she considered herself Ravkan). The conflict ends and much of the Dva Stolba valley falls under Shu control, giving more explanation for the tension and racism Alina experiences later. Alina's mother stays in Ravkan territory, because, again, despite her ethnicity, she considers herself to be Ravkan, and a few months after the end of that conflict, she gives birth to Alina. She does attempt to contact Aleksander, wanting him to claim the child, but he initially doesn't, both because it's impractical and because he doesn't really believe he is her father, though he does arrange for her to recieve some money.

A few years pass and Alina starts showing signs of Grisha powers, and her mother attempts to contact Aleksander again, telling him of this. She is unable to explain Alina's powers, because she knows relatively little about Grisha and has no idea how Sun Summoning would present. Aleksander does respond this time and urges Alina's mother to take her to be tested and that it would be safest for Alina to keep her parentage a secret (he still doesn't fully believe Alina is his daughter). Before Alina can be tested, however, the family gets caught in the middle of a Shu raid and Alina's mother (and maybe stepfather) are killed, and she ends up in Keramzin, now having an extra trauma reason to hide her powers (taking some inspiration from Alina's cut pre-Keramzin backstory from season 1).

Now, for the changes in season 1, those would be largely in the form of Aleksander's flashbacks and slow realisation of who Alina is. You can still keep the make-out scene/"romance" bits if you really want, because GSI (genetic sexual attraction, a syndrome/phenomenon where closely related people who have been separated for the vast majority of their life, like through adoption, deadbeat/cheating parents etc. upon meeting as adults develop an attraction to each other) is a real thing, incest in media is also unfortunately popular, of course this fucking family would do it, and antis will enjoy getting even more reason to hate Aleksander.

If we go the non-ew route, there would be some changes to the tent scene (to account for Alina being a living amplifier) and perhaps expanding/adding scenes to the journey to Os Alta, giving room to vocalize some of these differences (like explaining the living amplifier thing earlier). Maybe having Alina saying something that prompts Aleksander to be reminded of her mother, and being confused as to why at first.

Their interractions in season 1 would need to be reframed through the father-daughter lens, but it wouldn't be all that dificult, because it already has mentor-mentee undertones. Ideally, there would be a point somewhere before the Winter Fete, possibly as a catalyst for Alina's breakthrough with her powers, when he tells her who she is. It would give Alina a personal stake in the story, because she clearly doesn't give a fuck about her duties/responsibilities as a Sun Summoner in either version. She doesn't have to destroy the Fold because she's a Sun Summoner, but because she's the descendant of the Black Heretic. She's not just the savior of a country she doesn't give two shits about, but the redemption of her family.

If we want to go the "shit on Aleksander" route, nothing about his interractions with Alina would change all that much and the reveal of her parentage, at least to Alina, would come through Baghra, giving Alina more obvious emotional reason to run away and feel betrayed (especially if the almost-sex-on-the-big-map still happens, because "ew, I almost fucked my dad, who know we're related" would be infinitely more understandable of a reason to run away than what Baghra actually tells her).

Either way, the information that she isn't just a distant descendant of the Black Heretic, but his actual child, that she has a grandmother he didn't bother telling her about, that he told her they were going to redeem their family, when he only planned on continuing his work and using her for it, hits Alina like a truck. Alina going though StuffTM emotionally makes her decision to run away make a lot more sense.

Anyway, there would be very little change plotwise, just some dialogue adjustments, maybe mentioning how the Stag is her legacy, her heritage.

It would reframe Alina's fear of becoming like Aleksander, that permeates the second season, have some basis. It would give a reason for the "fuck Ilya and everything he touched and made" narrative Baghra is spinning. Baghra telling both Mal and Alina the story of her family, of why she believes now that it all much be destroyed, how her father's greed drove him to create abominations, to twist the world in unnatural ways, and she looks pointedly at the two as she says it.

Make Alina's stand against Aleksander her way of saying "the cycle of abuse in this family ends with me. I will make our family better.". Make her and Nikolai's political marriage a symbol of a new begining for Ravka in more ways than one - redemption of the Morozov(a) and Lantsov families. And bonding over "I can't tell anyone who my real dad is because it would cause trouble."

But of course, at the end, it fails, because both of them misunderstood the fundamental reason why things became as bad as they did.

IDK, I just think that changing Alina to Aleksander's daughter would improve their dynamic and a lot of the surrounding narratives massively. Even in variations other than the show.

[buggybuggs]

Haha hey funny post to make, but

(and could maybe use some help!)

So, a bit of background. Me and my gf have been together for almost 4 years now, and we've been long distance that whole time with sparse meetups. Recently though, my gf got some help in getting an apartment!

I've been doing my part here to get ready to move in with her, getting a 2.5 lb breast tumor removed, finally putting in my 2 weeks at my job, and sorting out what to ship and how. I booked the flight the other night, ready to go, but my parents needed me to move it to a date 2 weeks later. I already had everything set up to move sooner though.

This means I have an extra few weeks without a job and being stuck at home

This is where the help comes in though! Due to all this, I decided to set up my Ko-Fi for donations and commission info! Course money will help a lot since the job issue, but commissions will be nice too since it'll give me motivation to wake up and do things while being stuck here until the big move

Here's a Ko-Fi link right to my commission page, but I also have commission info here on my tumblr too! (Or you can click here if you're on mobile)

It's okay if you can't donate or commission me, warm wishes will do me wonders too <3 this is my first step as an independent adult, and i'm very excited for it!

(check out below for some of my art examples! :) )

(Make sure you click my links up there for my TOS! they're not too serious really but they're helpful!)

$5 for chibi icons/discord emotes (can have colored lineart with no polish fee)

$10 Symmetrical busts

$15 headshots/busts

$20 halfbodies

$25 fullbodies

$35 bust/headshot animations

$40 Chibi animations (can't be shaded)

$50 fullbody animations

Any piece you get can become polished for an extra $10! Polished means you can choose to get an effect with your lineart or get shading! You can get one of each, or just one! however you want to see your art done!

(while wobble lined art cant get shading, it can have colored lines and minimal highlights!)

thanks for reading this far! i hope you consider getting some art! :3