#will this ever get colored?? who knows! i like the pencil but if i manage to pull off my vision the colors would be soooo pretty idk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catboyfelixer · 2 months

Text

I Hope You’ll Always Be My Guardian Angel | Lee Felix

Pairing: Felix x GN!Reader Summary: Felix is a guardian angel-in-training, and you’re his last assignment before he can graduate. Genre: Fluff, Humor Notes: Jeongin also makes an appearance in this <3

All Felix could hear was pencils on paper scribbling away, students flipping to the back of the test that he had finished half an hour ago. This was not his first rodeo. This wasn’t even his second rodeo. But every time he failed his in-person assessment, he had to come back and do the written test all over again.

All he wanted to do escape the white walls, floors, uniforms, furniture, everything, and get back to Earth. The only other color in the room were the black numbers on the white clock, ticking agonizingly slow. Normally he would drift off into daydreams about his next assignment on Earth to pass the time. But lately those daydreams would turn into embarrassing memories of failing his exams on Earth and dread about failing them all over again.

At least he wasn’t alone. Most of his classmates had passed on their first try, but Jeongin being here too made him feel a bit better. He was asleep on the desk next to Felix’s, drooling a bit on the test. He always looks peaceful, even smiling in his sleep. Felix wishes he could be this laid-back about failing as many times as they have. Whenever Felix has doubts about ever graduating, Jeongin throws an arm around him and tells him they’ll make it eventually, even if it takes a hundred years. Hopefully they’ll both pass this time, and join their friends as full-fledged guardian angels.

The instructor rings the chimes, playing a melodic tune to signal the end of the exam. Felix shakes Jeongin awake, and they get ready to find out who they’ll be assigned to for the next two weeks.

You slammed the door to your apartment as you walked in, and dropped your bag on the ground. The loud thud didn't startle you, and you didn't care about all your textbooks splaying out. Who cares about the tripping hazard.

Yeah, it was one of those days.

First, you spilled coffee on your new shirt. You were too far from home to change and you were running late for class anyway.

Second, none of your group had anything prepared for their parts in the group project. Nothing! They had two weeks to do literally anything. You'll have to bring this up to the professor before the presentation tomorrow.

Third, your laptop just completely died during your last class of the day. All the notes you took- gone.

Fourth, you banged your elbow on the door frame on the way out of class. Maybe you would've been calm if it was only three things. But come on.

You're lucky nothing happened on the way home, who knows if you would've lost your mind.

You hear a knock at the door. After a brief pause, there are two more louder knocks.

Fifth, someone's at your door. On your bad day.

You mentally compose yourself, taking a deep breath before walking to the door.

When you open it, you're blinded by bright lights enveloping a figure in the hallway. You cover your eyes and hear a voice.

"Oh, sorry. Let me turn that down." The figure reaches up and turns down the light coming from the halo on his head.

...

...Halo?

You look back, and see a man dressed in all white from head to toe. He has shoulder length blonde hair, what seems to be a halo floating on top of his head, and a pair of translucent wings behind him.

"Um... Be not afraid?" he says, tilting his head as if he's the one confused here.

You just stare at him blankly. Why is there a man dressed like an angel at your door.

He sticks out his hand, hoping for a handshake. When you just continue staring at him in bewilderment, he clears his throat and tries again.

"Hello, my name is Felix and I'll be your guardian angel for the next two weeks." The way he says it is stilted, as if he's practiced saying this beforehand.

"What?" is all you manage to say at first. This is so completely bizarre.

"I've never been good at this part. Can I come in? It'll be easier to explain if I can sit down and read my cue cards," he explains, already walking past you and into the living room behind you. He trips on the bag you left on the floor and stumbles into a side table, knocking over a potted plant.

Sixth.

He stands up, wipes the dirt off his pants, and continues walking like nothing happened. He sits down on the old black leather couch your parents gave you and some cue cards appear in his hands out of thin air.

He flips through them, nodding at each card before they magically disappear when he's finished reading them. Looking up at you, he smiles and pats the couch next to him, which you ignore.

"Like I said, my name is Felix and I'm in training to be a guardian angel. You're my assignment for my exam. Nice to meet you!" He puts out his hand for you to shake again, and this time you hesitantly take up the offer.

"Ok, let me get this straight. Guardian angels exist. Ok. I guess this might as well happen," you start, finally taking a seat across from him, "But why only two weeks? Do I just... not get a guardian angel after that?"

"Don't worry, you didn't have one before this and you were just fine, right?"

Considering the day you just had, that's debatable.

"Why does an angel need to take an exam? Aren't you, like, just born knowing how to angel?"

"No, that's silly. And also, I wasn't born," he says, not elaborating on why that's silly or how angels are made.

"I wasn't born either," you lie. You shouldn't be the only one caught off guard today.

"Oh, that's interesting," he responds. He pulls out a notepad and a pencil and writes that down. Did he... believe you?

Somehow you find that endearing. Just a little bit.

"Oh yeah, I have more cue cards to get through."

He follows behind you on your walk to the grocery store like a puppy. Every so often he yells out "BE CAREFUL!" just before you step on a rock.

"WATCH OUT!"

He pulls you towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his chin in the crook of your neck. He's unexpectedly warm, warmer than any person you've been in an embrace with. Are angels known to be warm? You'll have to look that up later. You subconsciously lean into him, and against your own will, you notice your heart beating harder in your chest.

You look around, expecting a bike to be barreling towards you or something, but he points to the ground where a squirrel runs by your feet. When it's gone, he lets you go, and the warmth retreats too. You turn around to question him, but he starts talking first.

"Phew, that could've been dangerous, good thing I was here," he says. He wipes some non-existent sweat off his forehead and gives you a thumbs up.

"There's no way that would've been dangerous," you start, but he's too busy mentally patting himself on the back for a job well done. He doesn't hear you at all.

You sigh, and you guess this is what your life will be like for the next two weeks.

When you get to the store, no one seems to notice the wings or the halo. But what they do notice is the kindhearted guy helping the little old lady get some organic cereal off the top shelf, and the pretty boy making funny faces at a crying baby to calm her down. You definitely notice the cute way he furrows his brow while reading the shopping list, making sure you didn't forget anything. And how he offers to carry the heavy bags for you when you finish paying. He's lifting an entire bag of flour under one arm, and two more reusable shopping bags with his other hand. He's kind of... nice to have around, you think.

You don't think about his pretty face or his toned arms carrying your groceries, not at all.

The two of you walk home, side-by-side. Your thoughts wander to what happens after. Will he go inside the apartment again? Where is he living while on Earth. He's not expecting to stay the night, is he? You just met him. Then again, he is your guardian angel. If anything, it's probably better to have him close by. Just in case. You turn to ask him where he's staying, but he suddenly stops in his tracks and stares past you, further down the street. He squints to see something, and then a big goofy smile spreads across his face.

You look, and there's two men in the distance. One is just a regular dude eating a hotdog. The other guy... is another angel. He's wearing the same all white outfit as Felix, and there's a halo floating above him emitting a soft light.

"Jeongin!" he calls out, and when the angel turns, his translucent wings catch the light of his halo and become barely visible.

'Jeongin' smiles brightly and waves in your direction. Felix drops your groceries and jogs to catch up with his friend. They do a complicated handshake and start talking, which would be cool if you weren't left with all the heavy bags on the ground.

Above you, you hear a man shout 'Mamma mia!' and when you look up, a giant black blur falls out of a balcony.

A crash roars through the street, followed by a perfect C major chord, and when Felix turns around there's a broken grand piano where you once stood.

"Ah.... shoot."

The last thing Felix sees before being teleported away is the man next to Jeongin falling over after choking on his hot dog.

A moment later, and Felix is back in a very familiar room. White walls, white carpet, a white couch and a white coffee table greet him once again. He takes a seat, and Jeongin appears in the room too.

"I lasted longer this time!" Jeongin exclaims, punching his fist in the air as a show of victory.

"By literally half a second."

"Still counts," Jeongin responds, and Felix rolls his eyes.

"So what happened to your guy?"

"I think the hotdog was bad, I don't know," Jeongin says, scratching his chin. "He got it from back of some guys car. Maybe food poisoning."

The sound of the door swinging open grabs their attention, and they watch as their principal walks in.

"How can there already be two people back, the exam just start- oh"

Principal Park sighs as he looks at the two students in his office. Of course it's these two again. He adjusts his glasses and addresses them.

"You both know the drill, be back for the written test in two weeks," he says, and leaves them alone in the lobby again.

Felix stands up to leave, and a familiar phrase escapes his lips.

"You know, I'm starting to think we might not be good at this."

Jeongin wraps his arm around Felix's shoulder, and says the same thing he always does when doubt creeps in.

"This was just a test round! Next time is the real deal. We'll get it for sure!"

And with that, they leave to prepare for their next exam, memories of their latest failure already being buried away.

#lee felix #felix #lee felix x reader #lee felix x you #felix x reader #felix x you #lee felix fluff #felix fluff #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids x reader fluff #lee yongbok #angel felix

100 notes · View notes

siempre-bucky · 2 years

Text

Matchmakers

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: As soon as you and Benedict locked eyes, Gregory and Hyacinth knew you were smitten with one another. Now, the youngest of the Bridgertons are bound and determined to get you two together.

wc: 3.4k

A/N: thank you so much for requesting Anon! I fell in love with this as soon as you sent it to me. Sorry, it took so long. I'm hella sick and wrote the second half while delirious but please enjoy ♡

Being one of the 8 Bridgerton children had its perks amongst the ton, first invites to fabulous parties, lines of established suitors, and a good education. Yet, the greatest perk was only bestowed amongst the 8; the uncanny ability to see a love match.

This ability formed in even the youngest Bridgertons. Hyacinth and Gregory saw true love the moment you and Benedict locked eyes one fateful morning in the day room.

You sat in the pale blue day room beside Hyacinth, tucking your pencil behind your ear as you showed her how to draw the vibrant green plant sitting on the table in front of you. You were the newest tutor to enter the world of the Bridgerton family, a talented artist who was bound to teach the youngest all you knew. Hyacinth was completely smitten with you, attached at the hip whenever you were around.

Benedict entered the room with Gregory on his tail, jokingly mimicking his older brother's walk. Hyacinth looked up and started to giggle at Benedict's mocking shadow. You softly grumbled at your student, nudging her with your elbow but she didn't budge. With a roll of your eyes, you glanced in the direction of the source.

A breath got caught in your throat at the sight of the tall brunet man in the cream-colored waistcoat. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, better than any portrait in the most famous galleries, and certainly better than the men you drew from imagination. You couldn't help the soft amused giggles that escaped you while Gregory mocked Benedict's movements.

Benedict huffed and looked directly at his baby sister and the tutor he'd never met. His stone face completely crumbled at the softness of your face, the way the apples of your cheeks lifted as you tried to mask your smile with your hand. "Hello," he exhaled, every word he had ever learned suddenly escaped him as he looked at you.

"Hello," you smiled softly, the background fading so he was the only thing in focus.

"I do not believe we've had the honor of meeting."

Shoving the drawing pad into Hyacinth's lap you rose quickly and smoothed out your dress, much to the youngest Bridgerton's protest. "Y/N L/N, Miss Hyacinth's drawing tutor."

Benedict paused. His lips formed a bright boyish smile, an artist, he thought gleefully to himself. Benedict bowed his head and finally managed to speak, "It is a pleasure Miss Y/N. Benedict Bridgerton."

While the two of you stared at each other longingly in a quaint silence, Hyacinth and Gregory peered around and looked at each other with knowing wide eyes. They had seen this look before; the one where they viewed the other like they were the only ones in the room as if they were the most beautiful thing to grace the earth. They saw it when Anthony and Daphne viewed their partners, Violet had once mentioned that it was the look of true love. It was true love! A pure love match! Even if the two artists didn't see it, they were determined to match them.

Later in the evening, Hyacinth pulled Gregory aside, dragging him into one of the many unoccupied rooms. "Ouch!" Gregory whined after his shoulder roughly brushed against the doorframe. "What is your problem, sister?" he huffed as he finally writhed free of her surprisingly strong grasp.

"We must get Miss Y/N and Benedict to fall in love," she answered in a hushed tone. The maids knew everything.

"Are we sure they like each other?" the curly-haired boy mused, "They only met once... it might have been a mistake- the way they looked at each other. I me-"

"They do!" she interrupted.

Gregory paced the floor, placing his hands behind his back as he thought. Hyacinth cracked a smile, it was something similar to what Anthony did when he pondered over something. "I got it!" he exclaimed happily.

Her ears instantly perked up.

"I will need a book."

A week later, you sat with Hyacinth in the day room along with her family, struggling to keep focused. You were too preoccupied with watching Daphne harass Benedict about his painting. He defended his work so proudly, laughing as he swiped blue paint on her cheek.

He looked over and met your amused stare, wiping his hand on the handkerchief sticking out of his pants pocket. Benedict smiled at you bashfully and returned to his work. You desperately wanted to convince yourself that he was blushing because of you.

The youngest Bridgertons looked up at each other and smirked. Gregory nodded and swiped his nose with his forefinger as a signal. "I have decided who my favorite poet is," Gregory loudly announced, earning the attention of the room.

Violet placed her embroidery hoop in her lap and smiled at her son, "And who might that be, dearest?"

"Byron!"

The room fell silent, confused faces replaced the amusing ones. "Byron?" You and Benedict shout at the same time.

"He's awful!" Benedict shuttered.

"A terrible excuse for a romantic poet," you add.

The family shifted their gaze between you and Benedict as you fell into your own little world. Ignoring the fact that there were other people in the room, you and Benedict went on and on. He placed his paintbrush down and made his way over to the snack table, and without skipping a beat he plucked a fruit from the platter and carried on with his rant.

It appeared that phase one of the operation was complete! Benedict was smitten with you. Gregory and Hyacinth nodded at each other with proud smiles adorning their faces. It was time for phase two: get the other to admit feelings.

"Mama," Hyacinth sighed a few days later.

You once again joined the family in the day room, drawing over Hyacinth's work in between stealing glances at Benedict.

"Yes, dear."

"Could Miss Y/N join us on our promenade this afternoon? I would love to learn how to paint the pond."

"Well, that would be up to her."

"Miss Y/N," Hyacinth tapped your leg, finally pulling your attention away from Benedict.

"Y-yes? I'm so sorry, I lost focus. What was that, dear?"

"Promenade with us!" She gleefully asked of you.

You hid the warmth of your cheeks by turning to look out the window at the cloud-covered sun, "I would love to."

You had quickly fallen in love with the large family. Watching them laugh and joke with one another as you all walked along the stone path of Hyde Park. Normally you would have felt like a sore thumb dressed in your pale sand-colored dress, one made of cotton and not the fancy fabrics from the modiste, but they all made you feel like you belonged. You wondered if Benedict liked what you wore, he didn't seem like the type of man who judged a girl based on her fabrics.

Hyacinth held your hand as she skipped along the path, her brown curls bouncing with each step. "Do not forget we came to paint," you reminded her as you broke off from the rest of the family.

She rolled her eyes dramatically and let go of your hand, only to swirl around in circles. "I did not forget," she grumbled as she stopped, "relax and enjoy the park...and the view?"

You turned your head, Benedict and Gregory were a good distance behind you, tossing their snacks in the grass for the eager birds. You hummed softly to yourself before returning your attention to your student. Why was she smirking like that? "I assure you that I am. The view is...lovely."

"I heard something the other day," she spoke quickly returning to your side, looping her arm around yours. "Did you know that boys let girls know they like them by tugging on their hair?"

You chucked, "Oh Hyacinth, that is for children. Do not believe everything the other children say," you lectured her, trying to ignore the buzzing near your ear.

It was easy to tune her out from the pesky buzzing. Your hand rose to swat at the back of your head but nothing you did got it to stop. Furrowing your eyebrows, you halted and shook your head in hopes to rid of the bug introducing your space. "You annoying little," you hissed, "ouch!"

You felt a strong tug on the back of your hair, one of your curls falling from its confines. You whipped around to see Benedict's surprised expression, caught red-handed, his hand still close to your form. "Y/N..." he gulped.

"Y-you pulled my hair," your voice faltered as you accused him, your mind instantly reminding you of what Hyacinth said. But that wasn't true, at least not for grown adults. Boys didn't pull on girls' hair to show affection, it was all made up for children.

"I did," he admitted, "there was a bug! I Promise I meant no harm... there was a bug." You fought back a giggle amidst your astonishment as he flashed you his palm before rubbing the residue off on the side of his pants.

"Well then," you hummed, tucking your hair back in place, "Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton. I am lucky you were around to save me from a bug."

He smiled and took a step closer, "I would save you from all of them if given the chance, Miss."

"Very noble of you."

"Shall I protect you from the ones down by the water? Join in on your painting lesson, I'm sure you could teach us a thing or two?" He wrapped his arm around Gregory and pulled him close to his side.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his offer. "I would enjoy that, and I'm sure Hyacinth loves having her brothers partake in her lessons."

Benedict bid his farewell and hurried Gregory along to fetch his painting kit. While you were dazed and confused, standing frozen in your spot, Hyacinth took her opportunity. "Miss Y/N, do you have feelings for my older brother?" She asked bluntly, her grin rising high on her cheeks.

"I do," you whispered, barely audibly, and placed your fist over your heaving chest. Suddenly realizing what you had admitted to and who you admitted it to, you looked at her with a stern glare. "You tell anyone Hyacinth and I swear I will have you sharpen every pencil in England. Twice."

Hyacinth bounced over and held your hand with her fingers gently curling around yours, "Cross my heart... and to be honest, I wanted another sister."

A few days passed and Benedict found his new favorite spot at the window ceil of the day room. He sat with a pencil stuck behind his ear leaving a charcoal mark above his dark brow. His eyes lingered at the lawn of the backyard where you sat on a picnic blanket with Franchesca, giggling while Hyacinth drew the scene.

The second-born had become completely enamored by your presence, consumed by your talent and matching wit. Of course, he thought you were beautiful, a masterpiece that couldn’t be captured by the masters themselves. You inspired him, y-

“-Benedict!” Gregory’s airy voice finally cut through.

Benedict released a small puff of air through his nose and turned to him, “What can I help you with?” he asked, trying to mask the frustration of the interruption.

Gregory pouted his lips and hopped onto the couch, groaning as the spine of Benedict’s sketchbook poked his back. He scrunched his face and pulled the book out from under him. “Just waiting for my Latin tutor,” Gregory told him simply.

The man rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the window and the woman outside it.

The boy took the opportunity to open the book, careful fingers silently turning the pages. Some of the cream-colored pages contained light-hearted doodles of flowers and his sibling's expressions, and some had drawings Benedict crossed out in black charcoal. A grin grew on his face when he found what he was looking for; pages and pages of detailed drawings of your face, your figure, and even a small corner filled with the pattern of one of your dresses. Benedict did that on occasion when he fancied a dress you wore, he’d draw you in it then draw the pattern so he could remember.

“What’s a muse, brother?” Gregory hummed.

Benedict scoffed lightly and bit down on his fingernail while his eyes followed your every move. “It is someone who is your inspiration. Gives you a desire to create your best work. Beautiful. Ethereal,” he responded dreamily, a boyish smile threatening to grace his lips.

“Like,” Gregory hummed and looked up at the white ceiling to fake like he was thinking, “Y/N?”

His heart sunk into the deepest part of his stomach, “You’re joking?” Benedict laughed. He whipped around and was caught red-handed as Gregory showed him his own drawings as evidence, the boy's lips curling upward in a large grin that caused his eyes to narrow.

“Is she your muse, brother?”

“Are you going to blackmail me if she was?” he hummed with a smirk, sauntering away from the window.

“No! You should be happy… like Anthony and Daphne are. Like mama…”

Putting his guard down, Benedict sat across from his younger brother and snatched the book out of his hand, shutting it with a loud clap. “She would make me very happy if you must know,” his demeanor shifted, face falling as reality set in, “she doesn’t feel the same.” He tossed the book onto the table with a loud thud.

The excitement was bubbling inside the rosy-cheeked boy at the confession, eagerly bouncing and springing from the couch. “I have to tend to my Latin,” he announced nervously, sprinting off towards the opened doors.

Racing down the stairs, he found his younger sister lying on the floor with a book pressed to her nose. “Hyacinth!” he called, reaching out to grip her hand.

She huffed and placed the book on her chest, “I was at the good part, Gregory!”

He tugged and tugged until the brunette finally reluctantly got off the cold floor. She smoothed out her dress before he dragged her into an empty room. After checking for maids he turned to her and released her arm. “Benedict admitted it! He loves her.”

Hyacinth grinned widely and hopped up and down for joy. “He’s going to tell her, isn’t he?”

Gregory shook his head solemnly, “He does not believe she feels same.”

“But she does!”

A silence fell over them as their brains got to work. “We should move on to phase three,” Gregory spoke after a while.

“Are you sure it will work, brother?”

“It must.”

Gregory entered the day room, a Latin book tucked under his clothed arm. He nodded at Hyacinth who sat on the couch, her drawing pad opened on her lap, charcoal pencil twirling between her thin fingers.

“I am terrible at Latin, why do you need my help?” Benedict wondered as he entered the room, annoyance written all over his face.

“Well… you helped Colin,” Gregory stumbled in his response as he sat down at the desk.

Benedict ruffled his hair, “He was a much better listener than you,” he laughed before hovering over him and opening the book.

“I’m so sorry I am late,” you huff a moment later, hurrying into the room. You panted as you placed your things beside the Bridgerton girl and moved the fallen hair out of your face.

Benedict felt like everything was moving in slow motion once your voice hit his ears and his eyes met your frame. He noticed every movement; how your face twinged as Hyacinth made a witty remark, how your dress ever so slightly lifted as you fixed your hair. He swallowed hard and tightened his grip on the edge of the book, nearly breaking the cover.

“Got lost in a painting again, Miss Y/N?” he smirked, regaining his composure.

You turned your head in his direction, placing your hands on your hips and feigning offense. “Very funny, Mr. Bridgerton… but yes I did.” You intoned, taking your spot next to your student. You were thankful that the Bridgerton’s couldn’t see the small smile that adored your features as you ducked your head.

“Miss Y/N,” Hyacinth spoke brightly.

“Yes, Hyacinth?” you matched her tone, taking her pencil out of her hand.

“I believe that I am ready for drawing two people interacting,” she told you confidently.

Pursing your lips, you looked through the pages of her book and analyzed her previous work. “Well,” you muse, scrunching your nose. “I believe we can do that.”

Hyacinth grinned and tucked her curls behind her ears, “You must be my model,” she insisted, pulling you up by your wrist. She placed you in the center of the room and skipped over to the two boys, “And Benedict can be my other model,” she grabbed him by the fabric surrounding his elbow and stood him next to you.

“I-is this necessary?” you asked her, rubbing your hands together anxiously, refusing to look at him.

“Since when did you get so strong?” Benedict asked in between laughs, looking down at his now wrinkled coat.

“Hush, both of you,” she huffed as she began to pose you. She placed one of his hands in yours, instantly igniting a fire on your skin. “There,” she murmured, adjusting you to face him with your free hand on his arm.

Without instruction, Benedict placed his hand on the small of your back, his fingertips tracing the floral embroidery. You heard the hitch in his breathing, your eyes flickering upward at his visibly clenched jaw. “Hello,” he chuckled.

“I apologize for her, I do not know what has gotten into her,” you sighed.

“I should be the one apologizing. She’s my sister after all,” he told you, shaking his head.

“Stay still,” Hyacinth scolded as she scurried off towards the couch. She moved her drawing pad and examined the couch. “Gregory, have you seen my kit?” she asked.

Gregory perked his ears and looked up from his book, “Why no sister I have not,” he replied overdramatically, making you and Benedict knit your eyebrows.

“Help me find it would you? It might be in the hallway,” she guessed, matching her brother's dramatics.

“Of course,” Gregory all but slammed his book shut and hurried out of the room, his giggling sister on his tail.

You stood in the center of the now lonely room, Benedict's hand still pressed to your lower back. You felt every twitch of his fingers pressing into your back and on the smooth skin of your hand. "Benedict," you breathe, finally meeting his eyes. He was so handsome up close, the mixture of his cologne and earthy charcoal intoxicated your senses.

"It appears my siblings are quite troublesome," Benedict chuckled, turning his head to view the empty hall just outside the room.

"They did this on purpose," you sighed as you realized what was happening here.

"Are you upset?" he asked you hesitantly.

"Quite the opposite," you chuckled.

A warmth instantly graced your features as his face slowly got closer. Your breaths mixed, timid eyes meeting and too scared to look away. "Y/N..." he trailed off, exhaling shallowly.

Leaning forward, your pounding chest met his, allowing your hearts to beat in a perfectly chaotic rhythm. "Benedict..." you whispered, your nose brushed his, but he didn't move away. He stayed there, his hands gripping you a little tighter as if he was telling you to stay.

"Is this what you want?" he asked.

"This is what I've wanted since the day we met."

The man sighed with relief, cracking a smile. He finally captured your lips, his hands gently holding the sides of your face as if you were the most delicate thing in the world. "Do you have feelings for me, Miss Y/N?" he asked playfully as he pulled away.

You giggled and placed your hands on his chest, "I do very much."

"You know... I heard Paris in the spring is wonderful for painting outside."

You laughed, "Are you asking me to run away with you, Benedict?"

"We must finish our lessons! You cannot run away together yet," Hyacinth scoffed as she emerges from the doorway, Gregory murmuring complaints from behind.

"Well then," you hum, looking around Benedict to look at the younger Bridgertons, "How about painting in the park instead?"

"Deal," the three agreed in unison, Benedict's arms wrapping lovingly around your waist.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x f!reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfic

3K notes · View notes

lavendercharm · 3 months

Text

Linger, Chapter 3: STFU!

Summary: From the moment you meet her, you can't stand Melissa Schemmenti.

Warnings: VERY Strong Language

----

The next hour flies by as you continue your mission of organizing and decluttering the classroom. You organize stacks of finished worksheets and separate them between their respective grades; group crayons, markers, and pencils by color; and even refill Melissa’s stapler with your own staples, which you feel is generous. In between trips to the trash and recycling bins across the room, you occasionally glance at the half eaten lasagna sitting on your desk. You feel like it’s mocking you, but you can’t bring yourself to throw away one of the most delicious things you’ve ever eaten. Maybe once you’ve extended an olive branch, you’ll be able to enjoy it again.

By the time Melissa returns, you’re nearly done. She finds you surrounded by piles of dead dry-erase markers and empty glue sticks. You’re so invested, you don’t notice her entering the room until her voice startles you, nearly causing you to drop the markers in your hand.

“What the hell are you doin’?” She demands.

You try to muster a friendly smile as you turn around, but you’re certain it looks as forced as it feels. You’re surprised to see her alone. “You don’t have the kids with you,” you point out lamely.

“Educator of the year over here with these observational skills,” she snarks. “Other teachers have recess duty. What the hell are you doin’ with my markers?”

You glance down at the markers clutched in your hand and say, “Oh, I uh… I noticed the room was messy when the kids left, and the cupboards were kind of cluttered, so I was going through them.“

“What, my room isn’t pristine enough for you?” she asks mockingly, folding her arms and leaning on one hip.

You close your eyes briefly and remind yourself that you’re trying to fix things, not make them worse, before opening them again and replying evenly, “No, I just mean that it makes sense with how much you have on your plate-“

“So you’re sayin’ I’m messy and incapable of doing my job?”

“Stop!” You interject quickly, putting up your hands to placate her. “I’m not trying to insult you! I just wanted to help. A bunch of this stuff was broken or unusable, it was just taking up space so I threw some stuff out-”

“You what?” Her voice has a sharp edge to it. Your hopes for gaining ground with her are out the window - it seems like Melissa is looking for any reason she can find to start a fight with you.

“I threw some things away,” you manage, your own temper starting to rise. “I don’t see what you’re getting so worked up about.”

She steps toward you, pointing a finger assertively. “You took it upon yourself to go through my classroom supplies and throw things away without asking me. Do you have any idea how expensive new school supplies are?”

“This isn’t my first year in a classroom!” you protest.

“Well, I don’t know what fancy private schools you must have come from to think supplies grow on trees, but it’s your first day at Abbott. We can’t just turn around and buy new stuff whenever we want!”

“That stuff wasn’t usable! It was junk!” You exclaim.

“And how will I explain to my kids why half their school supplies are gone now? How entitled can someone be?” she says scathingly.

“God, what’s wrong with you that you call someone trying to help you entitled ,” you spit out. You hear her scoff as you turn your back on her and start gathering the piles of dead markers. You throw them, along with the empty glue sticks, into a container.

“Oh please! What else do you call someone who thinks they can do whatever they want? Goin’ through my stuff without askin’, not to mention strollin’ in late-”

“It was an accident!” You burst out, rounding on her. “God forbid I mess up!” You bark out a scornful laugh. “You say I’m entitled, have you met yourself ? You think you can walk all over me just because I’m new here and I made a mistake! Hey, since we’re sharing, you’re the most stubborn goddamn woman I’ve ever met! You can’t go two seconds without criticizing something or giving your unwanted opinion. Have you ever thought about taping your big mouth shut?” You deride as you snatch up the bin under one arm and begin to stalk past her toward the trash.

She steps into your path and you nearly collide with her. You look up to meet her fiery gaze, refusing to back down, and as you do, something stirs in your lower belly. You feel your muscles tense, ready for… what, you’re not sure. Her heeled boots give her a fraction of a height advantage over you, so you have to look up slightly. Your faces are inches apart as she stares daggers into your eyes, both of your breaths heavy from frustration and mixing in the air. Her cheeks are flushed and her hazel-green eyes are vivid, and your eyes flit down to steal a glance at her rosy lips for the briefest of moments, before you wrench them back up to her gaze. As your eyes return to hers, she opens her mouth to speak, but something catches her eye, cutting whatever she was going to say short.

Her brows come together in confusion as she tears her eyes from yours and your heart sinks to your stomach. She saw your gaze drift, she had to have noticed it and that’s why she looks so confused. You’re not sure how to explain it yourself - your eyes were simply wondering, your nerves are frayed, you aren’t in the right headspace. Her face grows even more red, and you brace yourself to be verbally eviscerated as her mouth opens once more. What comes out takes you so off guard that you momentarily forget yourself and the situation you’re in.

“Where did you get that?” she whispers coldly. Her gaze is fixed over your shoulder.

“Wha- what?” You stutter out, blinking quickly to try and comprehend the sudden, unrelated question.

Her eyes return to you, and you see a fury unmatched by anything she had displayed so far. It’s the first moment you know, without a doubt, that Melissa Schemmenti is someone you should be scared of. She repeats her question in a deadly low voice, biting out the words harshly. “Where. Did. You. Get. That?” Out of your peripheral vision, you see her point to something behind you.

Mustering all of the courage in your body, you look away from the lion that has your head in its jaws and search for what has condemned you to your untimely death. Sitting on your desk, alone and forgotten, is the half eaten slice of lasagna Janine had brought you for lunch. It takes your brain a moment to parse out why Melissa is so infuriated, but you quickly realize what conclusion she’s jumped to.

“Melissa-” you meekly squeak out before the dam breaks and her wrath is unleashed on you in full.

“Keep my first name out of your fuckin’ mouth you self-absorbed rat,” she snarls. “I knew you were selfish and inconsiderate, but I didn’t peg you for a thief. Stealing lunches? How dare you? ” She’s positively foaming at the mouth, and every ounce of anger that made you bold is gone. In its place is a gut-wrenching panic. You feel your heart hammering against your rib-cage and she continues to tear into you. “I knew I didn’t like you for a reason. You waltz in here on your high horse and think you can just do whatever you want. News flash puttana, Abbott doesn’t need you and I certainly don’t need you. You’re not worth the air you’ve been takin’ up in here. All you’ve done is ruin my goddamn day,” she seethes, pausing briefly before exclaiming, “And you’ve got me using salty language at school! The best thing youse could ever hope to do for these kids and me? Get the hell out of my classroom.”

You’re absolutely mortified, the words you’d meant to use to defend yourself evading you. You know it doesn’t matter - nothing you say will convince her. You wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. You dig deep within yourself, trying to grasp some semblance of dignity as you finally break free of her hateful glare. “Fine,” you muster. You back away from her and move to your desk, quickly gathering your meager belongings and shoving them back into your bag. You keep as much distance from the lasagna as you can, too beaten down to even acknowledge its presence.

Once your things are gathered, you make your way towards the door. But some thought in the back of your mind gives you pause. You don’t want to go out like this, with your tail between your legs. You don’t want to let this vitriolic woman have the final say. Glancing up, you see Melissa has busied herself with something at her desk, having apparently already written you off. Hesitating, you steel yourself and say, “You know? I’m not so sure your aide has appendicitis. I bet it was an excuse so she didn’t have to work with a judgemental bitch like you.”

Her head shoots up in a flash of red - you hear an intake of breath and catch sight of her mouth opening - but you’re in the hallway before she can respond, slamming her classroom door a little too hard behind you.

—--------------

“What the hell do you mean you got into a fight with Melissa!?” Ava exclaims across from her desk at you. You sit on the other side of her, feeling more like a student being disciplined than a grown professional reporting to their boss. When you’d arrived, Ava had made you wait outside of her office while she finished an episode of “FBoy Island”. This gave you more than enough time to process what had happened, and the shame nearly overwhelmed you. Never in your life had you lashed out at a colleague like that, especially after having known them for less than 24 hours.

Expecting to be scolded and fired, you’re surprised when Ava’s next words are, “You could have at least called me girl! My fans would kill to see Melissa in a fight! Although I guess she’s not good like she says, ‘cause you ain’t got a scratch on you. I’m disappointed she didn’t break out her bat,” she mumbles dejectedly.

You don’t even know where to begin responding to that, so you settle on, “We didn’t fight fight, just said some really nasty things to each other. Also, I don’t have your phone number, so… I actually couldn’t call you.”

“Oh!” Ava says as if she’s surprised. “Well, we gotta fix that, give me your number so you can tell me next time!”

“There’s not going to be a next time,” you mutter sourly.

“Oh damn, are you quitting?” she replies in a disappointed voice. “You seemed kinda cool standing up to Melissa this morning, I thought for sure you’d last longer than a day.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Uh, no… I mean, I don’t want to quit… well, I kind of do, but then she’d win,” you grumble. “I just thought you’d… I mean, I got into a huge fight with one of Abbott’s most tenured teachers. I thought for sure you’d want to fire me.”

“Fire you?” Ava says incredulously. “This is the most excitement this place has seen in a minute. If you stick around, we could start a teacher fight club!” She shoots you an award winning smile and you can’t help the quirk of your lips at her joke. At least, you think it’s a joke… probably. Ava leans forward, putting on her principal voice as she says, “Look, you’re the first sub we’ve been able to get since the school year started. On top of that, your references and work history make it seem like you’re actually a good teacher.” You give her an incredulous look, because everything you’ve learned about Ava doesn’t point to her ever actually doing her job.

“What?” she says defensively. “I do my research! I’m not gonna let just anybody walk on in here! I don’t need another stalker.” Before you can say anything to that, she barges on. “Listen, you can do whatever you want, but I’m not gonna fire you. Abbott needs you.” Her words, a direct opposition to what Melissa had said to you not even two hours before, warm your heart. You feel tears welling in your eyes, unable to hold them off completely no matter how much you try.

“Ew, don’t start crying,” Ava says, wrinkling her face up. “Or else I will fire you.”

You can’t help the laugh that bursts out of you, and you catch a self-satisfied smirk on Ava’s face.

“Okay,” you say, wiping your eyes with a smile. “I’ll stay. I’m sure I can avoid Melissa as long as you put me on the opposite end of the school.”

Your smile drops, though, as Ava says, “Girl, you’re still gonna be in Melissa’s class.”

“What?” you ask, anxiety beginning to creep into your chest. “Can’t you put me in another room?”

“Sure, there might be other rooms you could help in, but right now the only person out sick is Ashley,” Ava says flippantly. “And Melissa’s class has the biggest need for a sub, seeing as she’s teaching two grades n’ all.”

“There has to be something else I can do,” you mutter desperately.

“Right now, your options are to stick with Melissa’s class, or wait until someone’s out sick. But there’s no guarantee teachers will call out and I dunno about you, but I have bills to pay,” she explains dismissively, and you know the conversation is nearing its end as she turns her attention to her phone.

You sit there and weigh your options. The last thing you want to do is have to return to Melissa’s classroom and face her again. As much as the kids in her class started to grow on you after just a few hours, this was the worst day you’d had in your entire professional career. And it was entirely due to Melissa Schemmenti. Plus, there was no telling how she’d react to you walking back into her room. Still, Ava had a point: if you weren’t subbing, you weren’t being paid. Your money situation was pretty dire. You needed this job.

You exhale loudly, before uttering, “Okay. I’ll be back to join Melissa’s class tomorrow. On time,” you add hastily.

“Great!” Ava says, shooting you a smile over the top of her phone. You glance at the clock, seeing it was already nearly the end of the school day, so you wouldn’t be missing much by leaving a bit early. As you get up to leave, Ava says, “Wait!”

You stop in your tracks and turn to her expectantly.

“Lemme give you my phone number so I can live stream when you and Melissa fight again!”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, and add her to your contacts.

—----------------------

When you make your way out to your car, you feel the weight of the day fully settle on your shoulders. ‘What a mess,’ you think to yourself. Even still, you try to find some resolve. You’re going to need it if you plan to weather Hurricane Schemmenti.

You come up to your car, which is parked in one of the few visitor’s spots. Your head is down while you dig in your bag for your keys. As you step in front of your car, you feel something crunch beneath your shoe. Frowning, you shift your focus to the pavement. Small, clear granules shimmer in the afternoon sunlight. As you examine more, you see larger shards scattered about. Your jaw clenches as your eyes travel up, up… to the headlights on your car, both of which have been smashed out.

You stare at the destruction before you, and slowly, a dark feeling starts to fill you. Your pulse pounds in your ears as your teeth grind together, and you start to see red in the corners of your vision. You clutch your keys in a vice grip. You want to hit something, or someone. Of course, you don’t have any proof as to who did this. But you know. And as the dark feeling inside of you grows and grows, you’re already beginning to formulate your revenge.

‘Okay Schemmenti. This is war.’

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #the song for this chapter is STFU! by Rina Sawayama because that song just feels like pure rage to me #“have you ever thought about taping your big mouth shut cause I have many times” such a good line in that song #Spotify

77 notes · View notes

spideyanakin · 11 months

Text

Jokes on you

Peter Parker x Reader B99 Au

Au where MCU lives in the same universe as the 99

Synopsis - Jake is the only cop who’s ever managed to capture Spider-man.

Masterlist 🧚🏻‍♀️

Peter Parker Masterlist 🌻

Peter landed on your fire escape with an inaudible thud, hand gripping the worn-out metal bar to reach for your window. Before his fist could collide with the glass, he noticed the rainbow maker sticker he had bought for you at the MOMA's gift shop on your last school field trip.

He noticed only after spotting the trinket, that you were nowhere to be seen. He could see the mess on your desk, mountains of papers and colored pencils littered the space. The small blue desk light was on, shining across the squiggles on your paper. Peter couldn't see what it was about but he was ready to bet on his superpowers that you were trying to work a case. Either one Peter had told you about or one that had recently caught your attention on the news.

Or maybe even better--a case you had found this afternoon on your internship.

There you were. Peter's sense caught up with your light footsteps towards your bedroom door. Your hand catching the silver handle of your wooden before swinging it open.

Your face lit up when you saw Peter waiting at your window. You jumped on your feet, socked feet bouncing on the blue carpet as you made the few steps toward him.

Your fingers hooked with the handled of your window before pushing it open.

"How long have you been waiting here?" You greeted, soft smile dancing on your lips at his sight.

"A few minutes, barely," Peter swiftly slid into your room, removing his mask and throwing it on your bed before turning back to you.

You took him in, biting your lip. His hair was messy from his spider-man mask, his eyes bright as he stared back at you. He looked happy and you couldn't help but copy his contagious smile.

"That's good," you blurted out, lost in trying to figure out what made him so happy--but he was always happy, it was Peter.

“How was your internship?” He jumped a bit on his heels, pointing to the brand-new NYPD jacket you forgot you were still wearing.

“Fun, actually.” You chuckled. “I got to help fight crime today, a bit like you, I guess," you joked. "I'm assisting a detective, we're working on a case, it's pretty cool."

"Explains this?" He walked towards your desk to get a better look at what had previously caught his attention. You had drawn over a map of New York with different colors and shapes--scribbles only you knew the answers to.

"No, that's a whole different thing," you chuckled, meeting Peter by your desk and leaning closer to him.

“How was your "internship"?” You tilted your head to get a closer look at him. The air quotes getting a small laugh out of him. "Anything on that case you were telling me about?"

“Nope, nothing," he shrugged his shoulders. "Not much but the usual. Stolen bike, helping an old woman cross the road, always that same guy trying to steal a redbull from Delmar's. "

"Every day!"

"Every day! You'd thought he get the hint by now. Delmar threatened to call the police today though."

"As he should."

"Talking about the police, did you know that every cop in the state of New York is trying to catch you? They have this giant bet on which precinct will catch you first. It’s pretty funny actually," you laughed to yourself, thinking back on today's briefing when they taught you all about it. Jake had even shown you his folder with a collection of every single little detail he had collected, including old police reports from other precincts about failed attempts to catch him, to witness interviews.

“Oh well, I'm impossible to catch, darling,” Peter gave you his best grin.

"Confident much?"

"Always," he kissed your cheek.

“Well, be careful. They all think you’re the bad guy," you fixed a few strands of hair on his forehead.

“I always am, princess.”

"So tell me, what's up with that guy you were telling me about. Because I think they have a similar case going on at the precinct.”

“Well, the guy I'm currently searching for is called Todd Willis. Known for selling drugs around Queens and Brooklyn, but now we think he’s selling Alien substances. Alien drug if you want. Tony asked me to keep an eye on him until they know more. What did you hear today?"

"I don't think that's the same guy, but one of the detectives was going on about how this guy was found with an ungodly amount of drugs and wouldn't tell them who he bought it from."

"Well, please tell me if you have anything on Todd Willis. I think it's bothering Tony more than he's letting on. Be nice to have some more clues."

"Promise."

The next morning you got dressed in the NYPD uniform the nine-nine gave you, stuffing your name badge in your bag before scurrying off to grab breakfast at your closest Starbucks. You never went to Starbucks but you were in a rush and you forgot where you had placed your go-cup. Only when you were waiting for your coffee did you realize Peter had borrowed it two weeks ago and never gave it back.

You basically flew down the steps of the subway, thanking whatever gods were with you that morning because the train was just arriving as you swiped your card.

You finally allowed yourself to breathe correctly once you were sat on the uncomfortable blue bench and the silver doors closed, the train harshly starting again, and leaving behind the platform, heading in a straight line towards your destination.

You checked your watch before taking a new comforting sip of your drink, warm and sweet and everything you felt like you needed to survive today. Your shoulders slacked when you realized you had managed to catch up with the lost minutes, you were going to arrive right on time.

You decided to take your one-month mandatory work experience/ internship Midtown High required, with the NYPD. Unfortunately, you made your decision a little late, so the nine-nine was the only district available. It was a little far from your home, but at least it was still on the same side of the river. A few subway stops weren't going to scare you away.

You didn't mind as much as you thought you would. You loved Brooklyn, and the nine-nine had been much more welcoming than you'd imagine. In the little hours you had already spent with them, they had broken every stereotype that you built about working at a precinct. The images you had made yourself about the calm, serious, and strict detectives were quickly replaced by the chaotic staff that had greeted you days before.

“Morning intern!” Jake bounced on his chair as he saw you walk in.

“She’s not your personal intern, you know,” Amy raised an eyebrow, looking up from her computer as she took a new sip of her coffee.

“She’s technically Captain Holt’s intern,” Rosa entered the conversation, her sharp eyes keeping their focus on her screen.

“Yeah, but he assigned her to work with me,” he pointed his finger at you and back to him.

“Two days ago! She worked with me yesterday,” Amy raised her hands, almost offended by Jake’s comment.

“No, she didn’t! She worked with the two of us!”

“That’s because you wouldn’t leave us and forced Captain Holt to put you on the case,” she looked at him with the whites of her eyes.

“Alright, alright. But I’m sure we’re going to work together again.” Jake pointed the pink eraser of his pencil at you and winked.

You bit your lip, trying to not laugh.

“Morning Precinct," Captain Holt walked out of his office, head down on a pile of papers in his hands. "I have a new case for you Peralta,” he lifted his gaze to meet Jake's bright eyes. He walked the few steps to his desk, blue sneakers squeaking on the clean white floor before dropping everything that was in his hands on the messy desk, in between the scattered cups of coffee and the old-looking banana peel Jake promised had only been there two days. “So you can let Amy and her intern work on their case,” he nodded, "and clean your desk Peralta" he added, raising a disgusted eyebrow as he scanned the wooden surface. He looked back at Jake before turning on his heels, making large steps back towards his office.

“HA! My intern-” Captain Holt, turned around, and raised an eyebrow for the second time that morning, Amy gave him a small, apologetic smile before awkwardly turning back to you.

You took this as your cue to grab a chair and sit at Amy's desk.

Jake smirked at Amy's awkward interaction before looking down at the files Holt had dropped on his desk. He eyed the white paper who was staring back at him as if this was the greatest puzzle in history.

“Todd Willis?" He blinked, trying to reread the words as if there had been some kind of mistake, hoping he wasn't losing his mind. "Didn’t we close his case a while ago?" Jake turned to Holt who was still standing at the border between the room and the safe heven that was his office.

"Yes, but it was just reopened. He’s been apparently selling some... new, stronger drug.”

Your face fell when you heard the name. Peter was going after that guy too. Was he that dangerous that he had also caught the eye of the police?

You'd figure Jake was going to ramble about him as he worked the case, maybe you could remember some information and tell everything to Peter. Help him beat the nine-nine and crack the case before they did.

But wait. What if you cracked the case before Peter?

You loved Peter with everything in you but he was always smug about his Spider-man powers making him more useful than any detective around town.

What if you helped Jake and the nine-nine break the case before your boyfriend? Now that would be fun.

“Captain?” You politely raised your voice, making Holt's attention drift to you. He nodded, expectantly looking at you--you took it as your cue, “may I work with Jake on the case? I was fascinated by this case when it was ongoing,” you gave him your best smile, hoping he would let you in on.

The challenge of helping the nine-nine beat Peter was way too thrilling. A race you were ready to win. A way to grab on to feeling like a super hero in your own way.

Holt raised his eyebrows, taking a second to process your request. Jake was talented but he was the personification of ADHD and could be a pain to work with. Holt truly thought that you had experienced that firsthand the other day. Nevertheless, he saw your attitude towards the Todd Willis case and knew that if you had indeed been fascinated with it, then you might indeed be some great help to his craziest recruit.

“I don’t see why not. Y/n you can work with Peralta on the case. Sorry Santiago, you can partner up with Boyle," he nodded before finally disappearing back into his office.

Amy’s mouth fell open, and Jake abruptly stood up, making a happy dance around his table.

"I'm sorry?" You offered Amy who looked at you with betrayal written all over her features. You stood up and moved your chair to sit next to Peralta.

“She’s my intern now! In ya face! Suckers!”

“So, what you got so far?” You grounded Jake back to reality. He smiled before sitting in his chair, dramatically straightening his back and licking his finger to better flip the first page, ready to reveal all the information laid out on the files before him.

“Let’s see…”

Four hours had passed since you and Jake started working, your help being way more precious than he ever thought it would be. You had relocated to one of the workrooms. A large pinboard on the wall with the potential clues and locations. A table was in the middle of the room, with just even more papers splayed across it; an Agatha Christie book you thought held a potential clue, a random yellow kitchen glove neatly placed in a ziplock that had been found on a goose chase to catch Todd. You hadn't been allowed to pull it out of the bag, but you thought having it around might still be important.

The last blueberry muffin of a box Terry had kindly given you after your first hour of research stood proudly in between the mess you had created, and empty glasses previously holding peach syrup sat on the edges.

You looked at the map pinned to the wall.

“We're missing a step. It’s impossible he carried the drugs from LA to here without anyone noticing," Jake's fingers danced across the map, stopping on the picture of the drug cargo that you had pinned to the Hudson River hours prior. "He must have a base somewhere in New York,” he continued.

You sighed. You knew you needed some information that you could only get in the field, and it bothered you that you couldn't be as free and sneaky as Spider-man. You understood why Peter and the avengers cracked cases so fast and easily. They were able to get information fast and spying came easy. For the police, going on the field meant a whole lot of equipment and prep. They had to be sure, use the clues they already had before they could act on their suspicions.

Your familiar ringtone broke you out of your thoughts.

Of course, it was Peter. As if he knew you were thinking about him. “It’s my boyfriend. Can I take that?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” he shook his hand as if to show you it was more than ok, "we should take a break anyways."

You nodded before exiting the room and making a beeline to the terrace where the staff would take their private calls or the occasional cigarette.

“Hey babe,” you smiled over the phone.

“Hi”

“What's up?”

“Nothing much,” he chuckled over the phone. “Just wanted to hear your voice, see how work was going. I got some more info on Todd, Im about to leave the compound."

"Oh neat," you bit your lip. That easy to get information out of Peter?

"I discovered he has a base in Brooklyn,” Peter replied making the last part of his sentence a little mysterious.

“Brooklyn?” Your eyes lit up. “Where in Brooklyn?”

“Clinton Hill, Myrtle av. Plus it’s not far from you." You could hear some shuffling and a door closing behind him. The familiar sound of webs and suddenly, a lot of wind over the phone. "Why?” his voice came out as muffled.

"Peter, are you calling and swinging again?"

"Maybe?" You could barely hear him, making you huff.

"Peter-- we talked about this, please be careful. Call me back after your mission, kay?"

“Yep. That works, bye, love you.”

“Love you too," you hung up, and pocketed your phone. "Unbelievable," you shook your head in disbelief. After the number of times, Peter almost crashed into a building by being on the phone with you or Ned or even Tony--and he had to do it again.

You sighed before walking back into the building, at least he gave you a lead. A very good lead.

“Jake, I think I got something,” you approached the table, eyes dancing across the accumulation of papers before you found your pick. It was a small yellow Post-it note with Jake's sloppy handwriting; ‘Moaning M Ry 2' written in blue ink. You and Jake had spent the whole afternoon wondering what it meant, and your conversation with Peter had struck the answer right out of you.

“Are there any streets around Myrtle av that starts with Ry?”

“I don’t know so let me check,” Jake turned from the pinboard to his laptop, fingers dancing across the keyboard as he searched the map of Brooklyn.

“Yeah, Ryerson St. Why?”

“Well is there an N2 to this street?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you check the building?”

Jake fidgeted with the keys of his computer before getting the picture of an old grey building.

“Hey! We searched the building ages ago!” Jake pointed to it. “It’s totally possible their base is here!” He approached the board. “Hey this actually makes a lot of makes. But how did you-” he pointed, shock evident in his eyes.

“Well, these guys aren’t the only Harry Potter fans out there,” a small smirk rose on your lips as you handed the paper to Jake. He looked at you with quizzical eyes and then down to the note in his hand.

“Oh my god!" His eyes grew wide as he read his lopsided letters "Moaning M is Moaning Myrtle I'm so dumb! Harry Potter is just the best right?” He gave you a bright smile.

“Yeah!” You chuckled. “I think you should get a team there as quickly as possible, you don’t know what their next move will be.” You added, wanting more than ever to win this one-way race with your boyfriend.

“Yes. And thank you for your help… Detective.”

You sighed, watching the bottom of your coffee cup, fingers mindlessly tapping on the wooden surface of Jake's desk--while Gina talked about some random life facts about her, instead of giving you the lists of tasks that Captain Holt had asked her to hand you about an hour ago.

"Any news of Jake and Amy?" you turned to Terry who jumped at your voice, quickly closing the flappy golf page--fear of getting caught playing a video game by an intern during work hours quickly rising in his chest.

In all truths, he was bored. While Amy, Jake, and Boyle had run off to the location you had found, he had to work on what was probably the most boring case Holt had assigned him to this year.

He checked his phone, sighing when there was no message, simply his daughters' faces and big bright white numbers staring back.

"No," you melted a little more in your chair at his words.

You wished that you could have gone with them, but security was what mattered most, and of course, interns were not allowed on fieldwork.

You had no news of Peter either, making you think this had actually been a really good lead, and they were all busy trying to figure out what the heck was in this abandoned building.

In the meantime, Jake parked the disguise van and started his lookout. The big grey building sat quiet, as of yet no signs of life revealed to them. Everything was quiet until a light thump rang through the van.

“What was that,” Amy grabbed the nearest car handle, whispering in panic.

“Oh my god, I bet it’s Spider-man!” Jake whispered back like a fan girl whose celebrity crush had just breathed the same air.

“You really think Spider-man is on top of our van?“ Amy tilted her head thinking his idea was absurd.

"That would be amazing,” Boyle said over the intercom. Until now he stayed quiet in the back area of the van accompanied by all the spying equipment.

“You think we should try and catch him?” Jake whispered even lower.

“How do you want us to catc-” Amy raised her voice, attempting to speak normally but Jake slapped his hand on her mouth.

“Shhh. He has special hearing,” Jake whispered as low as he possibly could.

“How do you even know that?” Amy asked, trying her best to match Jake's whispers.

“I have a plan,” Jake carefully looked at Amy. “Alright, Boyle, can you look at the van’s door camera.”

“On it,” Boyle excitedly pressed on the camera buttons.

“Alright, if he gets down, hit him with a tranquilizer, and quickly grab him. Put him in the van and come in the front with us. Make sure you double-lock the door. Make sure you do it quickly.”

“Why so quick if he’s tranquilized?” Amy didn't see the logic.

“Don’t you know anything about him!? He heals super fast which means we have like two minutes until he wakes up and gets back on his feet,” Jake huffed as if this was common knowledge, almost offended that Amy knew nothing.

“How do you know so much?” Amy whispered scream.

“He’s like my favorite hero!”

“Yeah, Amy. He’s like Jake’s favorite hero," Boyle added through the intercom.

“And every cop knows that the sixty-seven tried to but he woke up before they could get him,” Jake added like it was obvious.

And as if on cue, Spider-Man jumped down the van he thought was empty and slowly walked towards the building, careful not to make any startling noise for the potential bad guys who took cover inside.

"JAKE JAKE!" Boyle whispered and screamed as he saw the red silhouette appear on his computer. "He's there!"

Jake let out an excited squeak, and Boyle grabbed the tranquilizer gun that was stored on the side of the computer desk. Boyle took a breath before opening the door in a flash, perfectly shooting a tranquilizer right into Spider-man.

"Jake! Amy!" Boyle screamed and Amy and Jake rushed out of the van--making Jake scream when he saw his hero laying face flat on the floor.

"Oh my god, this is the best day of my life!" He jumped like a kid high on sugar. "Amy we caught Spider-man! We caught Spider-man!"

Amy stared at him in shock, trying to register what was even happening. She blinked when Jake and Boyle high-fived.

"Well, what are you waiting for get him in the van!"

You were washing your hands in the bathroom when Jake and Boyle came back in the precinct in a hurry. Jake's hair looked at mess and his eyes were as big as they could possibly get over the excitement,

“Guys, guys! we caught Spider-Man!”

“You caught The Spider-Man? You sure this isn’t just some guy in a costume?” Holt fixed his glasses, giving skeptical eyes to Jake.

“Hundred percent sure, Sir. No look five!” Jack blindly threw his right hand behind him, just to collide with Boyle's hand who took the cue faster than his mind could comprehend.

“Is it that guy dressed as Spider-man that lives in your building again?” Rosa interrupted.

“Rosa, if the real Spider-man lived in my building I would have a tattoo on my forehead that says ‘Spider-man lives in my building’” Jake pointed to his forehead and chuckled.

A small silence fell in the room, Captain Holt crossed his arms, eyes boring into Jake's as he tried to pull answers.

“We should still check, I really want to know if I should add the 15th bar to my ‘Jake caught a random guy dressed as Spider-man’ board.” Rosa stood up from her chair.

The whole of the team didn't bother with the thought of Jake's latest potential find, making only Captain Holt, Terry, and Rosa who came only for mere entertainment purposes, followed the team of three to the parking lot where the van had been parked.

"Brace yourselves!" Jake fed into the suspense, slowly placing his hands around the handles before ripping the door open "Ta Da-"

Before the five cops that stood around the van could register, the one and only hero flew out of the confined place, throwing as many webs as he possibly could in an attempt to escape the clutches of the police. Captain Holt was thrown to the floor as a web hit his leg and glued him to the floor.

Without a word, and almost a sigh of total annoyance, Rosa grabbed the taser on her belt and hit Spider-man that was standing right in front of her with it. The poor hero fell to the floor, unconscious.

"Well, you were right. This is The Spider-Man. Now I would really appreciate it if you would get me out of these… Webs.”

“Soz, Sir don’t think I can. You have to wait two hours. Got caught in them once, good luck going to the bathroom Sir.” Jake sheepishly replied, his tone cheery. He bounced on his heels in excitement as he spotted Terry and Rosa already starting to pick up Spider-man.

“Thought he would be heavier,” Terry said as he slowly draped the unconscious hero on the chair of the interrogation room.

“Y/n!” Jake called out, out of breath from sprinting up the stairs.

“Hey, how was the mission?”

“It is what we thought it was but that’s not important! Come!” Jake waved his hands for you to come, you raised an eyebrow watching him grab his guitar before making you follow him down to the interrogation rooms.

“Bab–aaspider Man?” Your eyes went wide. You saw Peter, still fully dressed in his Spider-man suit, face down on the table-- cuffed hands twitching as he was slowly starting to wake up.

“Babpider man? I like that” Peralta added not realizing your almost mistake to call the hero in front of you, babe.

“I hate when you make up words Peralta,” Captain Holt deadpanned.

“We’re about to reveal who he truly is.” Jake bounced excitedly next to you. “Couldn’t let you miss it!” He turned to you, and your mind went through every possible way that you could stop this from happening--but no idea came to mind. “You guys ready?" Jake sat on the table. “I want to wake him up first.” Jake looked at you before unzipping the guitar bag, just to reveal and light brown guitar. You watched as he carefully placed it on his legs, clearing his throat.

“Oh boy,” Amy exclaimed before covering her ears, signing you to do the same.

“SPIDER-MAN, SPIDER-MAN!” Jakes screamed while doing notes on his guitar you were sure not to be the right notes to this song. "DOES WHATEVER A SPIDER CAN!"

Spider-Man shot up, the eyes of his mask opening wide. He looked around at the unfamiliar faces, right until he saw yours. You gave him the most apologetic smile you possibly could, and you could see from the way the eyes of his suit twitched that he was silently asking for your help.

Jake got closer, hand reaching to peel his mask off.

“What but- You can’t just do that!” You tried.

“What do you mean? Its Spider-Man we’re talking about!” Jake almost whined, not understanding your reasoning.

“But what if his identity remains a secret for a reason? Maybe he wants to stay quiet?”

“Hey hey hey, please don’t remove my mask sir.” Spider-Man shifted in his spot, attempting to move his hands but he was trapped.

“Oh C’mon! This is like my life’s dream. Relax a little, guys! Be cool,” Jake tried to ease the tension.

“But-”

“You guys can be so stupid sometimes,” Gina lost her focus on her freshly manicured hands, ready to take the matter into her own hands. She planted herself right behind Spider-man before ripping his mask off in one swift motion--a moment straight out of a Scooby-Doo episode, you thought.

“Oh damn your pretty,” she exclaimed before examining his face. “Oh hey, Y/n it’s your boyfriend! Damn girl,” she looked at you and then back to Peter.

Your face burned in embarrassment as the whole of the precinct now stared at you.

“You know him?" Terry pointed to Peter.

"Kind of?”

"Kind of?" Gina interrupted you. "Queen, you're literally together, kissing on your lock screen."

“Y/n’s boyfriend is Spider-Man,” Jake shrieked.

“Yeah?” You offered him.

“Y/n’s. Boyfriend. Is. The. Real. Spider. Man,” he looked at everyone in the group.

“You ok, Jake?”

“Im cool. Everything is Cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.”

Jake walked out of the room. Silence fell before a loud scream coming from the main room was heard.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

“He’s gonna be alright”

be added to my taglist

@justifymyfeelings @slytherinambitious @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes @criminaly-supernatural @jetblackheavt @thekamiiiworld @tomsirishgirlx @izbelross @dazedkrosupreme @sweetdayme4427 @bi-lmg07 @dazedkrosupreme @davinaclaire12 @iamlaradevill @jasontoddthezombie @littlethief78 @wallaballabingbang @springholland @magnetoluvbot @a-avengerparker @cocop0pz @Spideyparkerswife321 @thelovehashira143 @thiccmemechicc @whymyparentscheckmyphone @notfeelingsogoofy @justawildmary @blueskies4everxo @prestigious-tea @saturnhas82moons @uncultured @way-to-go-super-star @killtherandomness @alexeimaybedead @jkthinkstoomuch @idli-dosa @thesorcersupreme @the-beloved-goddess @RinnaAlyse @olsensnpm @ye1enas-v3st @Casualearthquakecollector @Ahsedovah @charradelange @namoreno @ellabellabus07 @lilostif16 @myshaahmad77 @theswitch-er @kaitieskidmore1 @lievesobsession @kaygilles @nickangel13 @kenzi-woycehoski @chaotic-fangirl-blog @softpeachysoul @Loggy70 @lustfulseonghwa @burninggracesandbridges @chaoticevilbakugo @crayzmarvelfan800 @rqmanoff @shunna @todorokishoe21 @buttercastlestudios @etalnxngel @marsbars09 @aprorios @ccosmic-illusion @parkershoco

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #tom holland x reader #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x you #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #spider man #spider man x reader #spider man x you #spider man imagine #b99 au #brooklyn nine nine au #b99

194 notes · View notes

riotlain · 1 year

Text

Slashers with an Agre Boyfriend

FOR ALL YOU LOVELY AGE REGRESSORS

i can do a petre one if asked :3

i usually do rz michael but i never specified so i am rn💀💀

THIS IS A NWLNW BLOG!! WOMEN DNI

THIS IS NOT NSFW!! DO NOT SEXUALIZE AGE REGRESSION WEIRDOS

(Rz)Michael Myers

Crafts crafts crafts

He already loves making masks so now you 2 make them together

6'9 mf. He always picks you up randomly

Will not really rough house with you or anything like that

Homeboy too too strong

Listen he cant do too much like take you to the park or anything

But Michael is not above stealing from children

He doesnt like punishing too much bc he just doesnt feel like dealing with it

Whenever youre throwing a tantrum he'll literally just leave the room💀💀

Jason Voorhees

Knows what hes doing but doesnt at the same time

Loves to carry you around!! He's incredibly strong he can definitely hold you

Loves to draw with you!! He breaks the pencils and crayons sometimes so bare with him😭

Jasons punishments are usually just you sitting in the corner or something similar

Cant spank you no no no just not him

Keeps you in the cabin whenever there's trespassers

HIS FAVORITE ACTIVITIES ARE DOING THINGS SIMILAR TO CAMP STUFF

Bonfires and roasting marshmallows, going on lil walks outside

He can bring out the old canoe too!! (He can row for you its ok)

Vincent Sinclair

Please please please dont go to the basement while regressed

If you do you have to swear on your LIFE (pinky swear) that you wont touch anything

Just sit politely by him and draw

Doesnt know how to deal with brats bro hes like

🧍‍♂️*shaky signing* 'Y/n, honey, please calm down' *LOUD CRASH*

Theres tourists in Ambrose?? Youre staying in his room. Ignore all the yelling.

Doesnt want you to use his nice coloring stuff so he got Lester to find some crayola crayons for you

Any plushies he manages to get his hands on?? BAM IN YOUR ROOM

Vincent is horrible at giving punishments. Like he was always a good kid growing up and his parents were... well yknow

Very good at keeping a schedule tho!!

Fav activity is probably crafts

Chromeskull

Literally the best caregiver ever

Like he doesnt understand at first so after you explain it to him

But like once he gets it?? MAN WILL SPOIL YOU

WILL GET YOU ALMOST EVERYTHING YOU WANT IF YOU ASK

Will not tolerate brats tho sorry

Like hes not... too stern with punishment

You can get away with alot with him ngl

If you go to work with him youll stay with him in his office and have a coloring book

Yes he will color with you whenever he can

Will kill anyone who says anything (stares dead at preston)

Never infront of you ofc!!

Fav activity is probably rough housing!! (hes letting you win all the time but shhh)

Either rough housing or hide and seek

#slashers #slashers x reader #michael myers #jason voorhees #slashers x male reader #vincent sinclair x male reader #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #jason voorhees x male reader #jason voorhees x reader #michael myers x male reader #michael myers x reader #jesse cromeans x male reader #jesse chromeans x reader #chromeskull x male reader #chromeskull x reader

590 notes · View notes

amaryscita · 9 months

Text

Miles(both 42&1610) x reader who love pink (me hehehe)

You Adore Pink!! It’s pretty obvious<3 (btw i’ll do hc’s with every color give me a moment tho!!)

You Love Pink!! Ever since you were little you loved pink, you even went as far as not eating anything unless it was pink or looked similar your parent had to put food dye in the food just so you can eat it

Miles 42 HeadCanons!!

• Miles would buy you everything he sees pink, pink stuffie? got it. Pink Perfume bottle? it’s yours pink hoodie yup.

• Miles wouldn’t really wear pink because he doesn’t wanna seem girly but he’ll wear pink underwear that’s it

• Miles would recommend nail sets for you anytime he sees another girl with them he’ll show it to you “Ma look, you should get this.” you looked at it and gasped in awe “I SHOULD!!”

• Miles has a pink pencil that you given him, he adores it, he uses it for test and calls it the ‘lucky pencil’

• He would defend you when someone calls you childish for liking pink

• He loves seeing your smile widen whenever you see pink

Overall he knows your pink obsession

Miles 1610 Headcanons!!

• Just like Miles!42 he’d try to buy you everything pink he sees, he’ll even beg his mama for extra money just to buy it for you

“Mama!! Por Favor! It’s for Y/N she loves pink!!” Miles begged as Rio rolled her eyes “Fine! Here’s another 10$ but this is cutting into next week’s allowance Miles.”

Miles managed to get next weeks money

• Miles would draw stuff like pink flowers and give it to you helping you decorate your pink room

• He would definitely get matching pink nails with you

• He wouldn’t mind wearing pink for you

• Even if he gets teased for it, seeing your smile is worth it

overall they know your pink obsession

#female reader #spider man: across the spider verse #x female reader #across the spider verse spoilers #miles morales #miles x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #fem reader #x fem!reader #miles 1610 #miles x y/n #pink

102 notes · View notes

sprite-writes · 1 year

Text

Yours (and Ours)

Leonard “Bones” McCoy/Reader (Original Female Character)

Summary: McCoy hated surprises, and being interrupted. Though for the right person, he supposed he could make an exception.

Word Count: 2,214

A/N: Guys im so sorry this chapter took so long LOL sometimes writing is hard but worlds biggest shout out to my beta @lightninginmyeyes who I could not have finished this without <333 also masterlist is coming soon !! anyways enjoy <3

Breaks were hard to come by in the medical field. Being a doctor was all gas, no breaks. Patients' demands were high, and staff demands were even higher. Most of those in Science Blue spent most of, if not their entire day, on their feet.

Leonard McCoy, most of all.

Chief Medical Officer was no small feat. Most days he wasn't, just a doctor– he was a nurse, a therapist, a leader, and whatever the hell else was demanded of him.

Without a doubt, breaks were hard to come by.

So, on the rare occasion when the medbay breathed for a moment, and he could slip out for an indulgent walk and a much needed cup of coffee, he thanked god for the opportunity. With a loop around the mess hall and a replicated coffee, he felt like a new man. Far too soon, he was back in front of the medbay, strolling in, greeting Chapel with a nod and as much of a smile as he could muster. His head nurse returned the smile…a bit too cheerfully for the day they were having. Leonard elected not to think about it too much. God knows he had enough on his plate. He punched in the keycode to his office, ready to tackle this new bout of paperwork.

The thing is, McCoy was used to his office being a particular way. He kept his lamp on the left side, his family photo on the right, with a box of tissues and a cup of pens. Everything had its place and was accounted for.

So the box of colored pencils and stack of paper laying atop his things was a fair shock to him. So was the woman sitting at his desk, in his chair, looking very much like she belonged there.

He faltered for a moment as he took in the sight and gained his bearings.

“Uh, Sunshine?” he said with bewilderment. He glanced at his watch to double-check that his coffee run hadn’t stretched to the end of his shift (which was impossible anyways) and confirmed she should have been on the bridge by now and certainly not sitting in his office, in his space, amongst his things.

At the sound of his voice, the woman's head shot up, her focus broken from the papers laid in front of her.

“Oh hi, Len! I was wondering when you’d be back,” she said casually, like it was routine for her to be there. With no explanation, she returned to the task of, well, whatever she was doing.

Leonard stood, thoroughly perplexed. It was midday, and he knew for a fact an operations manager would not have nothing to do around this time. From her silence, it would seem that he would be getting no answers unless he asked for them.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you Sunshine but, uh, aren’t you on shift right now? And how exactly did you get into my office?” he inquired with more patience than he would have offered anyone else.

She lifted a red colored pencil from the paper and thoughtfully tapped it to her temple

“Technically, yes, I am on shift, but I decided this is part of my job, and Kirk hurt my feelings earlier this week so he owes me a moment away.” He finally approached the desk and peeked at her handiwork. “And Chapel let me in, by the way – said you wouldn't mind.”

Her movements slowed to a stop, and she looked up at the doctor with the biggest, prettiest eyes he’d ever seen.

“You don't mind, do you?” she asked. Usually, he would have, but he decided right then, that he did not actually mind at all.

“I’m more curious as to what this,” he gestured to his now messy desk, “is all about?”

She beckoned him to come closer, and he found himself sitting in the obligatory guest seat…at his own desk. Sunshine held up a glossy piece of paper, folded in half with blue and pink bubble font across the front reading, ‘Get well soon!’

He stared for a moment, his eyebrows drawing together.

“You’re…writing cards?”

“Yeah!” she nodded. “For the engineers who got affected by that gas leak. That rash looked… not fun. Thought it might cheer them up, maybe.”

He would never say it out loud, for fear of losing her friendship forever, but at times like this, Kirk may have had a point about her being a bit…kindergarten teacher.

She laughed at his sort of scrunched-up expression. “Listen, I know what you’re thinking and you’re right! It's a little silly, but the engineers that were on that dock were all Ensigns! Like, fresh out of Starfleet! They probably miss their families, and now they have a nasty purple rash to worry about. I just thought they might like a card.”

McCoy could say for certain that he had never met anyone quite like Lieutenant Sunshine - and realized he never would again. This was incredibly kind, and wholly unnecessary… and a very Sunshine thing to do. Though one important question still lingered.

“And you’re doing this in my office because…?”

She shrugged.

“Well I could do it in my quarters, but I figured you could use the company.” She paused. Before adding sheepishly, “And I wanted the company.”

McCoy coughed to cover up his surprise. Though, he wasn’t sure what else he was expecting. Sunshine was known for being candid with her feelings. Most of them anyway. His cheeks dusted pink.

Sunshine, oblivious to her friend's blushing, tossed a colored pencil and a card his way.

“You should sign this one, by the way. A little birdie told me you yelled at Ensign Barlowe while taking her vitals, and I’m sure she’d appreciate a card from you.”

He internally damned Scotty, who was not only probably the ‘little birdie’ but also definitely put her up to this.

He stared down at the card, forcing his head to stop running a mile a minute, and finally mustered a scoff.

“I’m not signing an apology card because an Ensign couldn’t sit still on the Biobed.”

Sunshine shook her head and giggled. God, what a sound, he thought.

“It’s a get well soon card, not an apology card. And I’m not scolding you, Len. That day must have been stressful. I mean, fourteen engineers all turning purple? Crazy. I could never do your job.”

He shook his head. He was pretty sure Sunshine could do anything she put her mind to. His mind wandered briefly to what it would be like, with her by his side, decked in Science Blue. His heart stuttered at the image.

He wasn’t sure why, but he found himself scribbling ‘feel better’ onto the bottom of the paper, and tossing it back to her. The smile that bloomed on her face told him it was the right decision.

He leaned back in the chair and watched her thoughtfully. The sound of her voice played on repeat like a record in his head. He found himself ruminating on every pretty syllable she spoke.

“Kirk hurt your feelings?” he blurted, remembering how she got here. Sunshine paused, surprised by his suddenness. An unreadable look passed over her frowning face.

“He just said a dumb joke, it’s nothing to worry about. Promise.” Her smile returned, just as quickly as it left. Leonard tilted his head. He was expecting her to launch into a story of which he would hang on every word and that would give him fuel to berate Kirk with later. Just how badly did Kirk fuck up?

“I can practically hear you thinking, you know. You’re such a worrywart.” Her eyes playfully flicked from her cards to him. “Like I said, it’s fine.”

“You sure? If you’re mad enough, I could schedule him for a measles vaccine. Maybe a booster shot too.”

Her laugh echoed around his office and illuminated it like a fire. He smiled, finding hers to be contagious.

“That’s gotta be malpractice, Len. Hard no from me.” She shook her head.

“Malpractice? I’d be doing him a favor. That man avoids healthcare like it’s the plague.”

Sunshine rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, Doctor.”

She looked like she belonged, he thought. Sitting in his office, in his chair. He allowed himself a brief moment of peace, as he sipped his coffee and watched her switch colored pencils. He was content to just watch her like this, without conversation or reason. Unfortunately, nothing can last forever. His eyes drifted toward the ticking clock.

“You know I have to get back to work eventually, right?” Not that he wanted to leave, at all. In fact, if time allowed, and if he didn't know Chapel would be beating down his door soon, he would stay cooped up in his office with her for hours.

She laughed. “Yeah, I know, CMO. I’m starting my rounds soon too. All I could squeeze from Kirk was 15 minutes down here.”

Leonard blew a raspberry.

“I wish I could get 15 minutes away.”

Her head quirked.

“Don't you have some time? Chapel told me you weren't busy, or else I wouldn't have bothered you.” She paused and received the pointed look from her friend. “Okay, I probably still would have, but with more poise and apologeticness - but that's beside the point!” Sunshine began stacking up her cards and putting away her colored pencils. “Chapel specifically said you weren’t busy when she let me in!”

The gears in Leonard’s head turned. He was very, very far from not being busy. The Medbay had been as bustling as ever this shift, and the only reason he left in the first place was by Chapel's suggestion, who swore she could handle things for a few minutes.

Damn it, Chapel.

“Len? Everything alright?”

When his eyes pulled from the ground, Sunshine was right in front of him, with a questioning smile. Leonard felt blood rush to his face at their proximity. She smelled like… well, sunshine. And flowers. And just… good.

“Yeah, fine,” he said gruffly.

“Walk me out?”

“Of course.”

He dared to place his hand on the small of her back as he led her out, and if he paid just a little more attention, he would have seen her cheeks redden at the contact.

They exited in tandem, with Sunshine rambling about wishing rounds were any other day, and how the last thing she wanted to do was run around the ship checking up on complaints that ‘could easily be solved in an email.’

“Well,” she said as they reached the entrance. “Thanks for letting me hide in your office for a few.”

He waved his hand. “Anytime,” he said with lighthearted sarcasm.

She placed the cards on the reception desk and snorted, “You’ll regret saying that, McCoy.”

He replied, with all sincerity, “I doubt that.”

They were both quiet for a moment, looking at one another, eyes glossing over with adoration.

Sunshine had always admired the doctor's strength, and his drive to help others in all circumstances.

Leonard would forever be in awe of her kindness and her unwavering spirit.

A cleared throat broke both of their gazes. Sunshine flinched, nearly dropping her papers.

“Chapel! Hi! Thanks for letting me use Len’s office.” She laughed nervously, awkwardly dropping the stack of cards on the desk. “You’ll make sure the engineers get these?”

Chapel glanced between the two knowingly. Both of which now refused to make eye contact. Leonard was suddenly very interested in the linoleum floors and Sunshine in the plain white ceiling.

“Of course, Lieutenant,” the head nurse said politely. Sunshine thanked her again before acknowledging Leonard.

“Have a good shift, and, um, see you later!” she blurted before hightailing out of the medbay like it was suffocating her.

The Doctor watched her go with the sudden sinking feeling that he’d done something wrong. And as usual, when these feelings began to well within him, he took them out on whoever was closest, or, in this case, responsible.

“Really, Chapel?”

He leaned over the reception desk.

The woman in question stared at her manicured nails without a care in the world.

“Really, what, Doctor?”

Leonard gritted his teeth impossibly hard and blew a long breath out of his nostrils.

“You didn’t think to, oh I dunno, warn me before letting someone in my office in the middle of the work day?”

He wasn’t angry at her, not really. He was more frustrated with the feelings that clawed up his chest whenever he heard Sunshine’s laugh or the constant feeling to reach out for her -

No, he wasn’t really mad at Chapel.

But that wasn’t going to stop him from acting like he was.

“It’s just Sunshine,” the woman shrugged. “Would you have preferred I turned her away?” She finally met Leonards's eyes with just as much ferocity as he was giving her.

“No,” he gritted out, “but a warning would be preferable.”

She rolled her eyes and returned to her work.

“Just trying to move things along, Doctor.”

He stomped away before his head nurse could add anything else.

He returned to his office, palms sweating, and tried not to focus on the smell of her warm, floral perfume now hanging in the air.

#Leonard McCoy #on a cloudy day #leonard mccoy x reader #original character #yay new chapter #I hope u enjoy #star trek alternate original series #Star Trek #jim kirk

167 notes · View notes

star--anon · 7 months

Text

normally I write sad things but there's enough sad in my life right now so have some Silly Boys Cooking

Thomas helps Frypan cook.

Gally watches them. Once a Builder, always a Builder, and he's constantly just walking about Paradise, scrutinizing each design for a way to improve it. He studies Frypan and Thomas' movements and interactions with each appliance, scribbling down notes like a maniac.

So far, he has:

rounded all corners of the counters and tables created a scrappy but workable induction stove because the fire of gas stoves made Minho uneasy built out an intrusion in the kitchen wall so the fridge slots into them and not jut out like an obstacle somehow managed to make nonstick pans

(that last one is specifically because Frypan once made a few younger kids cry when he violently cussed at the 6th egg to get stuck)

Thomas helps Frypan cook because he needs something to do with his hands, and because Gally and Frypan always hang out while cooking and he wants to be close to them. After the Trials, it's really difficult to ever feel safe. He's convinced that at any moment, he'll walk through a door/tent and find the Rat Man surrounded by the hanging bodies of the Immunes. So he sticks close.

Andif he can make himself useful while keeping his friends in sight? Win-win.

also because cooking is actually really fun and he's only burned himself twice!

on a slightly darker note, it's also a form of control. There are some ups and downs, but with some practice, Thomas can mostly control the outcome of his dishes. Control. It's a word Trial-Thomas would've laughed at. He couldn't even control his own body. But here he is now, making near-perfect omelets.

Frypan gives anyone who helps out with cooking a free pass from doing the dishes. Anyone who litters is automatically assigned dish-cleaning duty. He's very big on littering, and has contributed a lot to the design of trash cans.

He keeps nagging Gally for the secret of that Fire Drink, to which the Builder throws his pencil at him.

Frypan is also the first one to notice Minho's aversion to fire, and he gives lots of advice on how to avoid and treat them. He's got this funky, fish-smelling goop that helps get rid of burn scarring, which Minho uses religiously.

Thomas (who he shares a tent with) has never complained about the smell, although he does mysteriously disappear from the tent for hours every time Minho applies it.

He also has this massive book where he writes down each recipe he comes up with. It's full of little doodles and side notes and new additions in the margins. Brenda comes by at least twice a week to draw little pictures of what the final result should look like.

(Brenda and Frypan have also tried creating dyes and pigments so they can color in the drawings because almost nobody in Paradise understands what "golden brown" means in a cake apparently.)

Minho used to sit on the fridge before Gally made it so that the fridge slotted into the wall Now he sits on the countertop, and Thomas has gotten so used to it that he just puts plates on his lap.

Before, Minho's "job" was to open the fridge door and grab any ingredients Frypan needed. Now, sitting on the countertop, he's Mr. Conversationalist

as much as being together helps, it's also an aching reminder of all the Gladers they lost. Newt, Alby, Zart, Winston...

Thomas can't tell if it's worse to bear the guilt of not even knowing the names of half the Gladers that died, or being close to and grieving over lost friends.

Minho's not one for humor or laughs, but a Leader's gotta Leader, so he's up on the counter cracking joke after joke, tapping on Gally's shoulder then ducking behind a chair, blowing air into Frypan's face when the guy isn't look, using cattails to tickle the back of Thomas' neck...

He'd slip on a banana peel if they had one

Gally's ruined a lot of sketches from laughing and jerking the pencil around

and nobody says it out loud, or at least not to his face, but seeing him slowly become more laid back, regain his sarcastic humor, and get more comfortable around other Immunes was like tonic. Years of being in the Trials did nothing but harden him, turning his sarcasm into cynicism.

He's also slowly stopped flinching each time Frypan fires up the gas stove. He once made himself scrambled eggs on the induction stove. It was the best scrambled eggs he's ever eaten. Garnished with one massive Fuck You to WCKD

#should I be tagging this?#tmr minho #tmr thomas #tmr frypan #tmr gally #headcanons #tmr #the maze runner #<- honestly mostly for blocking purposes #this wasn't meant to be this long of a ramble lmao

21 notes · View notes

theresa-of-liechtenstein · 4 months

Text

art by em year in review 2023!

for the fourth time, i present to you a selection of the art i did this year! this definitely was the Year of Understanding Procreate, and i think it paid off. as usual, reflections under the cut.

january: i saw @malcolm-f-tucker tag a picture of abigail thaw with a comment about a theresa faceclaim and it left no survivors, i.e. i decided that theresa should have greying hair and did not look back. this was from when i was still trying to figure out what brush to use for lineart in procreate. luckily i had learned my lesson from the sketchbook learning curve and realized that what i liked for lineart would most likely be in the pencil section. however i wasn’t a huge fan of the brush i used in this one, so i didn’t use it again. instead, for later pieces, i decided to customize the 6b pencil brush to my liking, and…

february: …this came out of it! this is still one of my favorite things i have ever drawn, and it’s my favorite thing i’ve drawn yet for herc and linda. this piece really convinced me to use overlay layers more in my art, and the amount of detail i managed to capture in this one still amazes me now. and before anyone asks, yes, they are doing specific things in the startup procedure for an airbus a320-family aircraft, except linda is doing things off the CM1 checklist and herc is doing something off the CM2 checklist, which i learned later is not really something that is done. let’s just say herc is not the tightest stickler to convention.

march: one half of an intended two pieces centered around the f1 au (which, regrettably, i have yet to continue… i just reread what little of the second part is on ao3 and god, it slaps actually, i really need to continue it so bad) depicting a pivotal scene from around the outside, where theresa and linda decide to put aside a childhood feud at the top of the banked curve at monza. at sunset. on theresa’s birthday. i know, very meaningful, incredibly homoerotic. read the fic to see how well that turns out!

april: i always knew i wanted to redraw the first filipino!hercolyn thing i did back in 2020, the one that completely solidified in my mind the notion that These Characters Are Filipino, Actually, and when i got comfortable in procreate i quickly jumped on that. (if you notice, a lot of the stuff i did this year were redraws of old pieces i really liked but wasn’t fully satisfied with.) of course i wanted to draw them in the traditional clothes in my parents’ and grandparents’ wedding pictures. the implication of this being, of course, that this is the soft shoe shuffle wedding. i have a fic planned centered around that, from douglas’ perspective. now that grad school apps are basically done, if my honors thesis doesn’t kick me too hard, i’d love to get on that as soon as i can.

may: YOU JUST GOT COLINED! SEND THIS TO A FRIEND TO TOTALLY COLIN THEM! ah, colin fairbairn: the figure whose presence haunts all of newcastle but is never actually. named. (much to the chagrin of a lot of people who genuinely thought linda’s dad was named colin bc i Wouldn’t Shut Up About It) i just love him so much and i love this piece, i wanted to depict the wistfulness of an older colin whose airline is on the verge of collapse, who has been secure in his job as chief pilot of air cal, who looks out over glasgow airport (that’s glasgow’s runway in the background) and wonders if it’s time to put himself out to pasture. wondering what he could have done differently. it’s okay bby. there’s no way that you could have prevented this. but he’d never believe it. he’s too duty bound. he lives in my head rent free.

june: another redraw, this time of a piece from 2021. i was so happy with this one, and i am very happy with it still! everything about the older piece i loved was improved massively by this redraw: the poses, the proportions, the line work, the coloring. honestly, just thinking about the two of them just existing in the airport, overlooked by bustling passengers, just part of the landscape, but having such a rich history and relationship between them… it’s something i think about a lot and i love it.

july: this comprises the third part of an unofficial trilogy of drawings i did centered around douglas/martin/theresa. in each one, i centered a different member of the ot3: i did one centering martin last year, one centering douglas in the spring, and this one centers theresa between douglas and martin. i really enjoy how i did the expressions in this one: martin, looking out toward the planes; theresa, following his gaze, eager to share in the passion they both have; and douglas, looking down at both of them (yeah i think they’re both shorter than him. i think it’s cute). i feel like when i draw these three, where they look and how they look is very important to me.

august: can you believe before this point i had never drawn herc and douglas together? yeah, me too. anyway, them 🤍 i’ve literally only ever drawn them as older men so trying to draw them younger was. lowkey kind of hard. i’m hoping to revisit air england herc and douglas in the future, especially since i didn’t intend for this to be anything more than a quick bit due to those bisexual divorcee brackets (which i don’t know what became of them in the end except that douglas got through and herc didn’t, lmao)

september: unposted self-portrait done as a part of my aerospace fellowship application i wound up getting rejected from because they required me to do a creative component. not much to say here. anyways.

october: yet another redraw, this time of a portrait of herc, carolyn, linda, and arthur i did a year prior, in october of 2022. i like to think that lfeu!herc carries pictures of linda, arthur, and carolyn in his wallet: he had never wanted to be the family man for most of his life, but in his new life, this new form, he can play it well. something about the coloring seems a little off to me: i think i may have to go in and adjust arthur’s skin tone because i think it doesn’t look 100% right. but i love this one too. i hemmed and hawed for ages over what they should be wearing but in the end i put them in what they’d wear for work bc i couldn’t think anymore. but it turned out super cute and i think it emphasizes what brought the four of them together in the first place: aviation.

november: a cute little doodle of young!colin with baby linda, from a bigger piece. something i generally feel like i’ve gotten stronger with this year has been drawing a larger variety of poses. i discovered that procreate allows you to import reference images in a smaller window that can be very easily dragged around and resized, which was a massive improvement over my previous strategy with sketchbook, which had been to import reference images as their own layers. often, moving it around or resizing reference images resulted in some loss of quality. anyways there’s something just so tender about colin and linda and i love to revisit them.

december: last but not least, we finish off the way we started, with theresa (and an added douglas lol). and boy, how different does december look from january? granted, it’s a different angle, but i personally think there is so much more dimension at the end of the year compared to the beginning. i was less afraid of using overlays to enhance the coloring. and the brush i wound up settling on for lineart really ended up serving me well this whole year, culminating in this piece. not much to say on this one, i like it a lot :)

overall thoughts: i didn’t think i drew as much as i wanted to this year, but looking back i still think i made really good progress and improved a lot from last year, so i’m still happy. definitely want to draw more next year, explore new subjects, and maybe work on redrawing more pieces from previous years because those projects have been very fun to undertake.

once again i want to say a big thank you to everyone who’s ever shared or commented or left a like on anything i’ve drawn: it will have been 10 years next year since the end of the show i primarily create fanwork for, and to still have people out there who like what i do is such a gift. yes i create for myself, but i do also like receiving feedback from others and sharing it with others, so thank you thank you thank you. and happiest of new years to all :)

#em draws #em retrospects #art by em year in review

13 notes · View notes

thatgirlshit · 5 months

Text

HOW TO GET GOOD GRADES - a realistic guide!!

okay so you’re here because you wanna get good grades!! welcome, grab a notebook if you want and just read bcs im about to start shitting information :)

👏 PAY ATTENTION IN CLASS 👏 participate!! if anyone understands the struggle for this, it’s the girl with crippling ADHD but trust me, shit gets so much easier to understand when you actually listen to the teacher’s yapping, no matter how hard it is.

go to school actually ready to learn!! like for me, i grab a coffee at this coffee shop near my school, i read a book before class to warm up my brain and i make a whole ritual out of going to school, that slowly it made me enjoy it more. now i show up to school well rested, nourished and ready to learn.

take notes YOU like. i’m not telling you to go buy $200 acrylic paint markers just to make your title pretty, i’m telling you that no matter what color your pen is, how little or much you write, take notes YOU understand and i guarantee shit will get so much easier for you. (and for the love of god use a pencil for maths!!!)

study the way you want. study in a cafe, library, or your own room for all i care, just do it in a way you love! the more you like it the more you’ll want to do it. you can start by learning about something that interests you if you’d like, and then slowly move onto the topics you have to learn. be sure to take breaks and turn your phone off when you’re doing it!

manage your time efficiently. i don’t wanna be the one to tell you this but babe, priotise your shit. don’t choose to work on a bullshit extra credit project over an assignment that gives you a final grade. do your harder shit first and then move on to the easy stuff.

hang out with people that motivate you. this is more of a tip for life in general but it can apply to academics. if you hang out with 4 idiots, you’ll become the fifth. hang out with people who motivate you to grow and learn as a person.

discover a study method that works for you!! if colour coding works, do it! if blurting works, do it! don’t let anybody force their method on you if yours works best for you!! you know you better than anyone, try some stuff out and figure out what works best for you.

extra tips!!

check your answers after every test!

don’t ever dumb yourself down <3

take lots of breaks to avoid burnout!!

do your homework!

ask for help!!!!

here’s a little reminder that grades aren’t everything, i know how it feels atm but still just fall in love with your life and all of the rest will follow after <3

#hot girl tips #it girl #glowup #self care #glow up #self love #good grades #how to get good grades #older sister advice #older sister tips #girl tips #school tips #good grades tips

13 notes · View notes

rphelperblog · 1 year

Text

𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜. ( feel free to change pronouns, potentially triggering, read & reblog with caution. )

’ i look like my mother and she looked like the enemy. ‘

’ i’ve never been welcomed here. ‘

‘ keep a pencil in your hand. or else someone will put a rifle in it instead. ‘

‘ i spent years thinking i’d find a way out. ‘

‘ i’m old enough to know the only way out, is through. ‘

‘ well, i need someone to take the fall for my petty crimes, that’s all. ‘

‘ we learned some good life lessons back then. ‘

‘ one: don’t cry in public. ‘

‘ she/he/they isn’t like you. no one is. ‘

‘ you’re the one of us who believes in a higher power. ‘

‘ when i get the nerves the night before i like to have a good tumble with a stranger. ‘

‘ you don’t seem like the type to do what they should. ‘

‘ well, turns out they do need me, so. ‘

‘ you’re a terrible shot. ‘

‘ when i was young, i had nightmares about it. ‘

‘ if it goes wrong, come back. you’ve lost enough already. ‘

‘ i’ll find my way back to you, promise. ‘

‘ don’t you want to know if you’re grisha? ‘

‘ if i can’t crack this, none of us are going anywhere. ‘

‘ maybe i won’t be here when you get back. ‘

‘ what are you? ‘

‘ that’s why i’m here, isn’t it? ‘

‘ they’re all gone. it’s my fault. ‘

‘ is it true? can you summon light? ‘

‘ when they realize their mistake, what do you think they’ll do to her/him/them? ‘

‘ i know her/him/them better than anyone does. ‘

‘ i don’t know where this letter will find you. but you must’nt worry about me. ‘

‘ i am perfectly capable of washing myself. ‘

‘ don’t change my eyes. ‘

‘ i’m almost as rare as you. ‘

‘ sentimental. we’ll work on that too. ‘

‘ i can’t go in front of the king, i need more time. ‘

‘ know that when i told you about true north, i was talking about you. ‘

‘ black is his color. not mine. ‘

‘ tell me, are you so anxious to be like everyone else? ‘

‘ it would be nice to know what the feels like, someday. ‘

‘ time for a heist. ‘

‘ you managed to win us over, didn’t you? ‘

‘ training is good. well, i think it’s going well. ‘

‘ where you are doesn’t matter nearly as much as who you’re with. ‘

‘ when there’s something you want, better to act without thinking than think without acting. ‘

‘ i’ve always wanted to travel the world. ‘

‘ i like seeing you this way, i want you to be careful. ‘

‘ you never compliment anyone to their face. ‘

‘ aren’t you supposed to be scouting our way out? ‘

‘ what do you think i’m doing? ‘

‘ i think you’re flirting with that stable hand. ‘

‘ tell me, what makes one carriage faster than the other? ‘

‘ the right answer is their is no right answer. ‘

‘ it’s the horse that makes the difference. ‘

‘ no human being should be as proud as you are right now. ‘

‘ you think that’s what it is? just a trick? ‘

‘ you don’t want to keep it in your pocket for too long. ‘

‘ i’m sorry that it took me this long to see you. ‘

‘ i prefer to travel alone. ‘

‘ i’m afraid we can’t let that happen. ‘

‘ you stick with us, everybody gets what they want. ‘

‘ i’m not being anyone’s captive ever again. ‘

‘ it was my power keeping you warm. ‘

‘ you won’t get far out here without it. ‘

‘ if i wanted you dead, i would have slowed your heart instead of speeding it up. ‘

‘ you intend to kill me! ‘

‘ why would you save me? ‘

‘ so there is a brain inside all that muscle. ‘

‘ you used to call on me, on times like this. ‘

‘ when your table was messy and your bed was neat. ‘

‘ i am a witch hunter and you are a witch. ‘

‘ you made him afraid. now he wants you to fear him. ‘

‘ you’re the one who taught me how to kill, mother/father. ‘

‘ i taught you so you could protect yourself. ‘

‘ we need to teach them how to fight. ‘

‘ i forbid it. now, do you hear me? ‘

‘ it’s dangerous to go looking for the dead. ‘

‘ what you see may haunt you for the rest of your days. ‘

‘ maybe. just maybe. greed is a poor motivator. ‘

‘ true wealth is the friends you make along the way. ‘

‘ i should just tear this down now. ‘

‘ i will go north in the night. ‘

‘ no. this can’t be it. i’m not done tormenting you. ‘

‘ i will keep you warm. ‘

‘ i can’t wait to introduce you to my truest love. ‘

‘ when i got older, i learned that darkness is a place and it’s full of monsters. ‘

‘ they aren’t the monsters. they’re just boys/girls. ‘

‘ we can’t hide forever. we can run together. ‘

‘ no businessman worth his salt bargains for what he can take. ‘

‘ our enemies are threatened by your mere existence. ‘

‘ never make decisions out of fear, only out of spite. ‘

‘ well greed always worked for me. ‘

‘ the bone road ebbs and and the bone road flows. ‘

‘ handsome decoy is also not a [NAME’S] talent. ‘

‘ i’d rather starve than be a traitor. ‘

‘ needing anyone is weak. ‘

‘ you and i are going to change the world. ‘

‘ so, who actually saw what happened? ‘

‘ it came from everywhere, because you called upon it to come. ‘

‘ i have been waiting a long time for you. ‘

‘ there are no others like us and there never will be. ‘

‘ not many people surprise me. ‘

‘ fine. make me your villain. ‘

‘ they are traitors who tried to kill you. this is retribution. ‘

‘ i’ve survived for centuries. did you really think you could kill me. ‘

‘ you are quite valuable, you know. ‘

‘ the deal is the deal. ‘

‘ i’m just trying to keep warm. you should join me. ‘

‘ i’ve been warned off the job. ‘

‘ i know that look. he’s a man consumed with vengeance. ‘

‘ please tell me you have a plan. ‘

‘ i’m not against the occasional light roleplay. ‘

‘ i’d miss me too. i’m fantastic. ‘

‘ no one is ever going to believe i’m that old. ‘

‘ why does this concern me? ‘

‘ well of course certain death pays a million. ‘

‘ unlike a spider, i only need one leg. ‘

115 notes · View notes

beansprean · 1 year

Note

Hey bean!!!! I love your art so so much and your comics fill me with joy!! Would you mind sharing what's your process to make them?

Helllooooooo ty!! Of course!! Tbh it’s pretty loosey goosey and procreate isn’t the greatest program for comic building, but I manage lol. I usually start with the dialogue (my favorite thing to write!) which may initially be written blearily in bed at 3am in my notes app or directly onto the canvas. I usually build scenes based on the dialogue, which I’m sure is obvious in hindsight since most of my comics are just long drawn out arguments LOL. From there, I do a very rough sketch/storyboard to get the idea of the page down and how I want the panels to look, expressions, movement, etc. I’ll use a piece from queening the pawn act 2 part 2 as a simple example:

I primarily use the 6b pencil for these two stages. Very rough!! Then I turn the opacity wayyy down and do a cleaner sketch over the top, nailing down more details and expressions. This is also where I will use pose references if needed and warp the lines if I need to make something bigger/smaller (bc I don’t have vector layers and they will get blurry once I resize lol). I also usually add the dialogue text at this stage so I can refer to it without having to open up and squint at the barely-there storyboard layer lol. (More under cut, I am not known for my brevity)

Now I can do the lineart (studio pen!) and draw the panel boxes (by hand like a loser using the monoline calligraphy brush). I do the panels after the lineart so I know exactly how to size them for the characters and what I might be cutting off. I do the background lineart after so I don’t end up drawing more than I need to outside the boxes.

You can see at this point I decided to change Guillermo’s position in the first panel, having his arms down rather than up and removing his glasses - the angle of his left hand ended up being very finicky and I decided I wanted to see his expression (and not worry about his glasses immediately reappearing in the next panel lol). I can now add the background, which I either erase around the characters or use a masking layer on (if I have room for more layers lol) Then I start coloring, primarily using a very plain no-pressure paint brush (custom, for to save my wrist) for base colors and then build on patterns from there, changing layers as needed. I add my cheek color at 50% multiply, pop on the dialogue bubbles, and that’s pretty much it!

Very simple shot-reverse-shot scene, but my process is pretty much the same even for more complex stuff like

I’ll play around a lot with effects and background and lighting if I feel like it or if I feel the scene demands it (like the glasses panel - the Tarantino eyes and the glasses flash add to the dra~ma lol), and one thing I know I need to work on is flow! My instinct is often to expect your eyes to go left to right, down, and left to right again, but it’s really pleasing to have something to follow with your eye -like dialogue boxes. In the above you can see how I warped the panels and the angles of Guillermo’s attack to try to make it more exciting to look at and have a smoother flow. Def better than just two rectangular panels on top of each other, but I could have gone way harder on the angle of impact. Always learning and growing!! I just run out of room so often bc I hate using different canvasses for multiple pages, I feel like I lose the flow if I can’t see them on top of each other lol.

ANYWAY. Long fucking post. If you want to start drawing comics my advice is to Just Do It. The more you do them, the better you’ll get and the more fun you’ll have making them!! I never ever thought I would be the kind of person who does longform fan comics (we love you reapersun), but here I am having a blast lmao. Hope this answers your inquiry even a little bit, I’m afraid I am both long winded and extremely undisciplined!! ❤️❤️

#anonymous #tutorial #sorta #comics #wwdits

48 notes · View notes

lmanburg · 2 months

Text

happy (late) valentine's day @elveneclipse! this is a highly experimental mashup of candy cards + a small fanfic. i hope you enjoy! (@mcyt-valentines)

basic summary: DSMP candy cards/fanfic. Wilbur needs to send out valentines cards to a distant relative. He pulls tommy along for the job. eight candy cards w/ a word count: 930.

“Why are we writing these stupid things again? Corbin Trove sound like a fake name, is this tax fraud? Are you making me commit a crime again Wil?”

Wilbur glanced up from where he was finishing pasting photos onto card-stock. Tommy was sitting on the counter to the left of him, legs swinging while he fiddled with the lighter display. He looked tremendously bored. Outside the heavy winds battered against the gas-station doors, though the inside was blessedly warm. Management can’t skimp out on the temperature system when your building acts as a desert shelter.

“For Valentine's day. For my distant cousin. On my Mom’s side.”

“I thought your Mom was a fridge.”

“No. She died. I only ever saw her on the fridge. That’s where the joke came from.”

“Oh.”

He finally glued down the last photo of Tommy to the card, a younger one, from L’manburg. He looked cute.

“Why do you want to send them cards if they’re distant?”

“So I can update them. Let him know I’m alive. I was going to do that for all my relatives but turns out I only have one.” He held out four red cards for Tommy to take. “Here. These are yours.”

“Why do I have to be involved?” Tommy whined.

“You’re my brother, aren’t you? You should be involved then.” Tommy stared back at Wilbur with an unreadable face. Blank, suspicious. Wilbur had forced himself to get used to those.

Tommy snatched them out of Wilbur’s hands with a sour face and dug out a colored pencil from his cargo shorts. “Fine, I’ll do 'em. But I won't make em good. Or nice. Or proper. Or-”

“Stop stalling. Just sign the cards bud.”

He thinks this is easy, doesn't he. He can write just about anything and make it sound good, even now. I’m not like that Wilbur. I’m scared. Chaotic. What if you don’t like me. He wants me to write to you. I don’t know how. He wants this to start the new normal but he abandoned me even though he didn't really leave me because I can visit but that means leaving. I can’t leave where I’m living you’ve got to understand that it’s apart of my fuckedness. The fuckery in me brains. Can’t leave home can’t hate people can’t be nice can’t be good. You don’t want to hear from me I‘ve got nothing good to show or say or do or be or-

“Tommy,” Wilbur said softly. He rested his hand on Tommy’s shoulder concerned at the far-away look in his eyes. Tommy did that too often. Wilbur had hoped when he left he’d have found someone else who could show him how to de-fuck himself. He guessed he’d been wrong.

Tommy jerked and stared at Wilbur with large eyes. “Hm?”

“Whatever you put in will be fine. Don’t think about it too hard, just sign them.”

“Okay.” Tommy said. He hopped off the counter and knelt on his knees signing his cards on the dirty linoleum floor. Wilbur sighed.

“Why are we sending them pictures of our faces? Seems a bit self-centered Wilba!” Tommy accentuated the ending syllable of his name, which is how Wilbur knew he was feeling better. At least marginally.

“It’s so they know what we look like. And I don’t know, maybe.”

Silence. Wilbur fiddled with the ends of his own cards, laminated, with type-writer lettering instead of handwriting. Wilbur didn’t like feeling pens in his hands anymore.

“Wouldn’t this have worked better as a Christmas card?”

“Well I missed Christmas, Tommy. So.”

Tommy didn’t respond, just went back to writing and kicking his feet in the air. Wilbur knew his cardigan would get dirty with sand and general car-floor grime. He wondered if dry-cleaning would be worth it.

“Okay, I’m done!” Tommy crowed. “Let's compare. I bet mine’s way cooler than your lame ugly valentines day card.”

Wilbur chuckled softly as he inspected the sets side-by-side. “I’m sure they are.”

Tommy cringed. “Wow, these suck Wilbur.”

“What! I think these are perfectly fine.”

“They’ve got no personality! No heart.It’s just your name over and over again.”

“I think the dick monument has plenty of personality.”

“That’s not what I meaannnn Wilbaaa,” Tommy dragged out his syllables into a whine as he fell and leaned his whole torso onto the counter. “You’ve not told them why you want to write to them! What else is the point of sending these if you haven’t given them a reason?”

“I didn’t think I needed one.” Wilbur answered plainly. Tommy puffed out his cheeks and laid his limbs dangling over either side of the counter.

“Well now mine look dumb. Gimmie ‘em back.” He said, reaching for his stack.

“Nuh-uh,” Wilbur said, dangling them out of reach of Tommy’s grabby hands. “They’re cute, he’ll love them.”

“But they look stupid next to yours with no message on themmmm” Tommy whined further.

“If I promise to add something to mine will you let me send them anyways?”

Tommy glared at Wilbur upside down, face slightly red from the blood rush and cheeks still puffed in indignation. Times like this Wilbur forgot Tommy had aged beyond the little twelve year old he’d found behind a laboratory trash can. God, could Tommy drink now in the states?

“Okay. Fine. But only if you promise.”

Wilbur smiled indulgently, holding out a single pinky finger. “I promise.”

Later that night, true to his word, he had added something with his typewriter over the plastic lining. It had meant sending them out the next day when they would arrive a little late, but it had been worth it. At least, Wilbur hoped it had.

[A/N: THATS IT. THAT'S THE WHOLE THING SORRY IT'S SO SHORT. I hope you like it! If this isn't what you were looking for I 100% understand this was very experimental. I'll be happy to work on a replacement gift for you!! Happy Valentines Day :D ]

#longpost #cwilbur #ctommy #dsmp fanfic #crimeboys #mcyt valentines

7 notes · View notes