#I just end up drawing and it usually turns out really different than anything else I make

[chickensoup1025]

Adrienette from that one episode that one time remember that

#it's risk #the episode is risk #instead of the real screenshot as a ref I used lumity #what is art style anyway #me trying to do hands again let's go #I just end up drawing and it usually turns out really different than anything else I make #my art #Adrienette #adrinette #miraculous #lovequare #miraculous ladybug #mlb #ml #ml risk #miraculous risk #miraculous fanart #mlb fanart #mlb season 4 #ml season 4 #miraculous season 4

[aidaronan]

"First movie you ever saw in theaters?" Steve lounged opposite of Robin on the couch in his living room, the stereo on low, spitting out Madonna on the local radio station.

"Oh, that's easy." Robin bit off part of a licorice. "Freaky Friday. I remember because I was terrified for weeks that I'd end up switching places with my mom and have to, like, balance a checkbook or something."

Steve laughed, separating m&ms in his hand. "You still don't know how to balance a checkbook, do you?"

"Like you do." Robin playfully glared at him. "Okay, here's a good one. First kiss."

Steve ate the sole blue m&m first, a grin spreading across his face because he usually lied about his first kiss, but he didn't have to. Not with Robin. "Camp Stronghold when I was nine. We met up in the boathouse after lights out to trade contraband."

"Contraband, huh?" Robin raised her brows.

"Candy. I swear my parents loaded me up like I was going to prison. 'This is as good as cash in there, Steven.' I think my dad wanted me to network or something. Because, you know, I was totally gonna start a small business with a group of eight-year-olds."

Robin snickered. "And the kiss?"

"Ah. I didn't actually want candy. I just wanted this kid to like me so bad, and I didn't know why until we were there in the dark tripping into each other because we couldn't see. I had all these butterflies, and we were standing close enough that I could feel the heat off his sunburn in the air." Steve could still picture it. The way he couldn't see more than a few inches in front of his face. "Then he kissed me, just this quick peck on the lips before he turned tail and ran. I left the boathouse with a Snickers and one massive first crush."

"Did anything else happen?" Robin asked.

"No. It was the last week of camp and I think he freaked himself out over it. I don't know. He didn't even really say bye to me after we climbed off the bus to meet our parents. Never saw him again. I honestly never even thought to get his name."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. I just hope he's doing okay, you know? That he's got people in his life that make him feel like he's allowed."

Robin looked at him softly, reaching out to give his ankle a squeeze. "Hey, you never know. You might run into him again someday. Maybe he's your soulmate or something."

"Please. I think you're pretty obviously my soulmate." Steve nudged Robin with his foot. "But I guess he could settle for 2nd place."

"Oh, there's a toast for sure." Snacks tumbling off her lap, Robin reached for her can of Coke on the coffee table and raised it as high as she could reach. "To both of us finding our 2nd places."

"Cheers to that." Steve thrust his own Coke into the air.

____

It felt like a big cosmic joke that Steve would be in a boathouse when he realized who Eddie Munson had been all that time. Eddie had looked so different when he'd transferred into Hawkins that Steve had never even given him a second look, not during their shared classes, not during any of those cafeteria tirades. Not during the numerous occasions where he gave the kids rides to D&D.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!"

It was the eyes that finally pulled back the curtain and cut away all those in-between years. Steve had never been close enough to clock them, but he couldn't deny them now. Not at such close range, Eddie holding a broken bottle against his neck, trembling with so much fear that Steve worried he might actually use it.

Dropping the oar from his own shaking hands, Steve said the only thing he could think to say.

"Well, this brings back memories."

Eddie didn't respond, the fear in the air drawing out every second, making it feel infinite. Behind them and in another universe, Dustin said a bunch of stuff Steve barely heard for the pounding in his ears. He watched beads of sweat roll down Eddie's forehead and waited for something to give.

Like clouds fat with rain, Eddie finally broke open, tension draining out of him, arm and weapon dropping to his side. He exhaled a shaky breath, maintaining eye contact, his expression too complicated for Steve to fully read.

Steve was about to say something else when Eddie finally spoke, cocking his head to the side and leveling Steve with a look.

"And here I spent all these years thinking you forgot."

#steddie #ficlet #mine #long post #first kisses

[manszen]

long distance situationship

pairing. fem!reader x vinsmoke sanji.

summary. you yearn for a certain blond pirate to come back home to baratie.

contains. fluffy angst, comfort at the end, whole cake island spoilers, told from the reader’s pov.

word count. 1.1k.

note. i really adore sanji and zeff's familial bond.

the loud commotion from your workmates inside the cramped kitchen of baratie draws you away from your dish plating.

“it’s here!”

“let me see! let me see!”

“how much is it this time?”

“i bet he tried his best to look cool. he looks like an idiot with the last one,” patty who’s next to you whispers down on your ear. he wipes his hand with a kitchen towel, a fond smile on his lips.

you laugh quietly at him.

“eh? what’s this?!”

you lift your head, a tad surprised. carne’s shrieks sound too shell-shocked for someone who claims over and over again that he doesn’t care at all about sanji.

“the bastard is a vinsmoke?!”

at that exact moment, zeff enters the room. his wooden leg clicking against the kitchen floor, effectively silencing the gasps of surprise of his workers.

“figures,” he quips after gaining everybody’s attention. “what’s the boy’s bounty now?”

“it’s 330 million berries,” carne announces, raising sanji’s wanted poster up in the air. his other hand grasping the rest of the newspaper. “they still used his old photo, though.”

“that perverted face of his again?”

you let out a small giggle and everybody turns their heads to you. as if with one accord, they all smile knowingly. even zeff, the baratie’s owner, appears thoughtful.

the kitchen suddenly feels warmer than usual.

“his photo isn’t so bad,” you mumble, trying to brush off their teasing looks.

“says the girl who collects his wanted posters before owner zeff can,” patty chimes in. you have this crazy urge to scream at him for exposing you like this until carne clears his throat, reading the newspaper article out loud.

“it says: ‘the vinsmoke and charlotte families entered into a political alliance via marriage between the third vinsmoke son, sanji, and the 35th charlotte daughter, pudding’.”

oh.

patty, zeff, as well as the others, wince when they hear carne’s announcement. you’re grateful they don’t say anything more about the matter, but you don’t give them time to say something anyway, since you’re already turning your back and resuming your work.

“say no more,” you hear zeff say to carne. “i believe sanji wouldn’t marry someone so easily. at least, without my approval.”

something heavy lodges in your throat right then. you mutter a cryptic excuse, weaving your way outside the kitchen doors and rushing to the safety of the girl’s restroom before anyone else can grab a hold of you.

anyone who works in baratie knows about your little infatuation. they’re not against it, but they’re not extremely supportive of it either. it’s just… it’s sanji that you’re head over heels with.

sanji who plays it cool and thinks before he acts.

sanji who deeply cares for almost everyone in baratie.

sanji who respects food more than anything else.

sanji whose only fault is that he’s borderline crazy when it comes to women.

you know exactly how crazy and submissive he is with women.

you aren’t an exception to that rule either. he proved that to you one late night as you both wash the rest of dishes after closing baratie.

he said a lady shouldn’t soak her hands in dishwashing soap for a long time, that you should let him do the rest. to which you only bumped his shoulder, joking that if he treats you the same way he treats his female customers, you’d feel somewhat special.

and his response?

‘you are special. and to me, you’re extra special.’

it might seem normal for him to compliment a woman, but you, on the other hand, are not used to it. growing up with nothing but irresponsible men around you, it’s only tough love that you’ve ever known.

that’s when you start to see sanji in a different light, with the intention to suppress it for as long as you could simply because you’re terrified of your own feelings.

you’re terrified of your feelings not being reciprocated.

although somehow, it has become an unspoken deal between you and sanji.

you start to seek each other’s company when your designated rooms feel too cold and lonely at night. you start to catch each other’s eyes during work hours, over tens of long kitchen counters, and smile shyly as you avert your gazes. you even start becoming touchy, leaning your body against him when he wants you to try some of his cooking, and while he’s shaking with exhilaration, he doesn’t make a huge scene out of it in hopes you two won’t be found out by zeff.

you start to get this fuzzy feeling the two of you are finally onto something.

but, as fate would have it, sanji got recruited by a man named luffy, claiming that he needs the best cook out there if he’s going to be the king of pirates.

and who are you to hold sanji back?

you kept your mouth shut as he told you his final decision, tucking away your own selfish desire to not let him go. you patted his shoulder, bravely smiling that he should follow his heart and see where it takes him. and he gave you one of his boyish grins, whispering thank you for being so understanding.

you promised yourself back then that you wouldn’t be the very reason who would break that smile.

you close your eyes and lean back against the restroom door, reminding yourself that he's still in the process of chasing after his dream — his childhood dream. after all that, he will be back in baratie in no time.

you just didn’t think you would find his name on the news with the word ‘marriage’ attached to it, that’s all.

a gentle rap at the door knocks you back to your senses.

“there are customers waiting to be served,” comes zeff’s soft warning. “forget that shitty kid. you deserve better.”

you snort. even if he says those harsh words at sanji, it’s still laced with fatherly affection. the impression brings a soft smile to your face.

“hey, owner zeff,” you begin. it seems that speaking with a thick door in between you and your employer helps. “do you think… do you think he’ll come back?”

“hmp. do you really think he won’t? the boy might be stupid but he’s not stupid enough to forget where his heart is.”

his words make you feel a hundred times lighter. “so baratie is where his heart is?”

the silence stretches on from the other side of the door you’d think zeff has already walked away. until he says with a warm voice, “you are where that boy’s heart is.”

stealing, modifying, translating, or reposting this work on other platforms is strictly discouraged.

#own post #one piece imagine #one piece fluff #one piece angst #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji imagine #vinsmoke sanji fluff #vinsmoke sanji angst #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #sanji #sanji fluff #sanji angst #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n

[tibbythetiger]

Hello friendsssss! We have an official tag on AO3, we’ve all grown so much in just a few days. Amazing work all around! 

I’m just dishing out some general HCs today! Hopefully, I can actually get the time to turn my main DreamTheory meeting as coworkers at Sparky’s into a real fic soon! 

Both of them enjoy their height difference greatly. Mike usually hates feeling smaller or shorter than people, but he’s never met someone as genuine and nice as Ness so it doesn’t bother him, and makes him feel kinda safe. Ness just loves his pocket-sized boyfriend. 

I know someone else has already said this, but Ness with freckles!!!! Ness with freckles is so very important to me. I think they’re super light during most of the winter, but once it gets warmer and the sun comes out they’re fairly noticeable. Mike likes to kiss each one he can find, it always makes Ness laugh. 

I know we all agree that Ness is Conspiracy Boyfriend, and I agree! I think he particularly loves those paranormal ghost-hunting shows that were super popular back in 00’s, and he’s a HUGE Unsolved Mysteries fan. When he’s looking to get the same thrill but looking for more fictional media, he loves the Twilight Zone. 

Mike makes a mean grilled cheese and tomato soup, this is in part because it’s Abby’s favorite food and he decided if he had to make anything really well it would be this. Ness actually doesn’t like grilled cheese, but Abby talked it up so much he gave it a try and he ended up really liking it. It is one of Mike’s proudest moments. 

I think Ness is really good with kids, he seems to me the type that was the oldest cousin at parties. (This is just projection), so he’s used to having younger kids following him around and having to keep them entertained. While he’s used to it, he’s really genuine and loves doing it. He’s always overjoyed to hang out with Abby, and she adores him because of it. 

Ness and Mike cannot draw to save their lives! They are horrible at it, Abby likes to hold “drawing classes” where she tries to show them how she makes her masterpieces. Ness always tries hard, but it’s just not his strong suit. 

They are the couple that slow dances in the kitchen or living room. Mike is always reluctant about it, he’s fairly paranoid at romantic gestures, and he’s always scared someone will see them, but he always enjoys it when Ness convinces him it’s okay. Abby thinks it’s the most magical thing, so she draws the two of them as princes when they dance during a Disney movie night.  

Ness absolutely tells Mike and Abby stories to help them sleep. They both think he has the most soothing voice, Ness just loves being able to help them, sometimes he’ll even sing to them, but he’s still really shy about it. 

I think Ness really loves listening to musical soundtracks, but he’s also a pop girly through and through, like, he loves Kelly Clarkson, Paris Hilton, and Brittany Spears. Meanwhile, Mike doesn’t listen to music super often, he usually lets Abby or Ness pick. Otherwise, I feel like he’s really into grunge or early rock. He listens to Nirvana sure, but also Radio Head. (I also think he’s a very big Weezer fan) 

I think Mike is a big writer, he started journaling to help him take note of his dreams/memories of Garrett, then really leaned into it once his parents were out of the picture since he didn’t really have anyone else to turn to to vent. Sometimes he can be a little poetic, and he’ll write lil notes to Ness and leave them in his apron or pockets for him to find later. 

Ness thinks this is simply the cutest thing he’s ever seen actually, and attempts to do the same thing. He’s a little cheesier, and are usually filled with lil hearts and things doodled around them, but he sticks them on the mirror or on Mike’s alarm clock. Mike saves everyone he finds and slowly they start to cover the walls in his bedroom. 

The three of them cannot have board game nights. They are all waaaay too competitive, and the last time they played Uno and Ness won, Mike pouted so much and Abby locked herself in her room. They settle for movie nights or puzzles when they’re doing things the three of them. 

When Abby first starts dabbling in painting her nails, she practices on Ness and Mike. Eventually Ness and Abby usually just have matching nails, Ness doesn’t let the looks he gets bother him any. 

Abby absolutely knows they’re dating, Mike tries not to keep secrets from her, especially after the debacle of Freddy’s, and what happened with the Aunt. She’s too young, so she doesn’t get why people are weird about it, but she understands enough that she can’t tell anyone that Mike and Ness are dating. When she does talk about them, most people assume Ness is a girl, just because of his name. Abby just stops correcting people, the only person outside of them who knows is Abby’s therapist(?), but she supports Mike so it’s not really an issue. 

Ness loves stealing Mike’s sweaters and coats, they’re so much bulkier than the ones that Ness buys himself, so they’re so comfortable. In the winter, he’ll steal them and wear them to work or around the house. Mike grumbles and pretends he cares, but he thinks Ness looks cute in them. 

Ness has the worst road rage, Mike is both horribly amused and terrified of this when it occurs. Ness always apologizes afterward usually followed up by an “If people could just learn how to drive, I swear to GOD”  

Mike and Abby will go into Sparky’s when Ness is working just to get desert and to see him. Most of the employees at Sparky’s know there’s something going on between Ness and Mike, but they all let it remain unspoken. It seems like everyone is taking good care of each other, so no one decides to interfere.  

Well, that’s all I have for now! I’m really loving seeing everything everyone is putting out, and getting to read everyone’s work and see their art is amazing!

#mike schmidt #mike x ness #ness the waiter #securitywaiter #dreamtheory #fnaf ness

[theresattrpgforthat]

do you have any recommendations for games with interesting superpower mechanics? bonus points for a clear love of superhero comics as a genre

THEME: Superpowers

Oh gosh do I have some recommendations for you. I have likely spoken about pretty much all of these games before, but I feel very strongly about them and I can’t help myself from talking about them again!

Exceptionals, by Bramble Wolf Games.

Exceptionals is a game inspired by X-Men about and for the spaces and communities marginalized peoples make for themselves. Play as a Geno, one of little less than 0.5% percent of the population that has gone through a mysterious process called Claremont-Simonson mutation, as you try to navigate a world that won’t make room for you. Exceptionals is a game about what the mutant metaphor means to you and the different lenses through which we view it. Punch back and build something of worth together in this narrative tag-driven tabletop role playing game.

What Exceptionals does differently than the other games mentioned here is that it ties all of your character abilities to descriptive words or phrases. You’re not just heavily armoured, you have bone spikes and you’re exceptionally good at resisting extreme temperatures. Your powers can just as easily be things that slow you down and get in your way as they can be handy weapons or powerful resources. Not only that, but your character is also defined by their role in the community. Are you excellent at socializing and often called on to provide a distraction? Or are you good at noticing details, and therefore asked to investigate local mysteries? Each answer gives you a tag you can use to improve your chances of success.

If you have some experience with Fate, you might find Exceptionals to feel pretty familiar, with the biggest difference being in the dice used. The system itself uses 2d10, with modifiers applied through tags, the environment around you, and social bonds. Your bonds are crucial to improving your chances, and that is why Exceptionals champions community. If you want a game that cares deeply about the media it’s drawing from, then I recommend Exceptionals.

Spectaculars, by Scratchpad Publishing.

Spectaculars is a tabletop roleplaying game where players create their own comic book universe, craft heroes and villains to populate that universe, and then play through full-length campaigns to tell incredible stories of heroism and villainy in a world of their own creation.

Spectaculars has different decks of superpowers depending on the kind of genre you’d like to play in, but you can also mix and match if you’d like. Your superpower options are dealt to you randomly, with five basic superpowers always available if you don’t like the options you’ve been given. You get five unique cards, out of which you can choose up to three. I really like this because it prevents analysis paralysis, while still giving you a good number of unique options!

Your superpower ability is usually tied to a percentile - 80 being your best power, 70 being the second best, and 60 being the tertiary (should you choose to take all three). Rolling under that number means you succeed, and you can also roll advantage or disadvantage dice to determine extra details - like whether your move sets up another superhero really well. Each superpower could have up to two different effects, using situational limitations or time tokens to debuff anything that is extraordinarily powerful.

So for example, the Corrosion power gives you the ability to reroll any advantage dice you roll once, as long as you are trying to corrode non-living matter. However for Light Manipulation, you can make whatever light effect you evoke last for longer if you put two time tokens on your card, and you can allow yourself to use your power and do something else at the end of the round by adding four time tokens to the card. At the beginning of your turn every round, you get to remove a time token. This is a great game for folks who love tactile play, as the tokens, dice and power cards give you a lot to handle.

If you want a more in-depth review of Spectaculars, you can check out this summary by Deeper in the Game.

MASKS, by Brendan Conway, at Magpie Games.

Halcyon City has had more than its fair share of superheroes, superteams, supervillains, and everything in between.

Your team of young supers must forge your own path amidst the pressures of a world full of people telling you what to do and who to be, and kick some butt along the way!

Masks: A New Generation is a superhero tabletop roleplaying game full of action, youthful angst, and dazzling bravery. Take on the roles of members of the latest generation of superheroes, young adults trying to figure out who they are and what kind of heroes they want to be.

I am remiss if I don’t talk about MASKS, the first game I would turn to if I wanted to replicate Young Justice, Teen Titans, or anything from the Spiderverse series. This game is often cited as one of the definitive examples of what a Powered by the Apocalypse game can do, and for good reason. The superhero powers are present as picklists tied to each playbook, while what separates the playbooks is the inherent struggle of the character. Are they trying to hide their mundane identity? Are they struggling with feeling like a freak? Do they have a legacy to live up to?

I think these thematic elements show a deep love for the superhero genre, and I also love that the chances of success aren’t tied to what your abilities are, but rather your reasons for using them. If you are trying to protect someone, you’re rolling Savior, but if you’re trying to do damage, you roll Danger. In either situation you could be using your powers, but it’s intent that matters - and then you describe how you want to do it in order to give us an idea of what success or failure would look like.

FASERIP, by Gurbintroll Games.

FASERIP is a neo-clone game of super heroes, based on a classic 1980s role-playing game. The game contains a flexible yet streamlined super power system, and a completely new character generation system which keeps the fun and unpredictability of the original game’s random character generation but tempers it with an emphasis on balance and player choice.

This is a retro-clone from another superhero game that has since gone out of print - I think perhaps Marvel Super Heroes? Unfortunately I’m not familiar with the source material, but I can tell you that this version is free!

FASERIP is pretty granular in your ability level, ranking characters and difficulty levels from Zero to Infinite. Your superpowers in this game have a few important factors - source (how you got the power), rank (how effective it is), and boosts (how flexible your abilities are. Powers are determined randomly in FASERIP, with roll tables used to determine what kinds of powers you get and how many boosts you get. If you’re a fan of older rules systems and random power generation, I recommend checking out FASERIP.

Those of Us Who Know Better, by C.J. Linton.

Those of Us Who Know Better is a tabletop roleplaying game about transgender superheroes whose powers come at a price. Civilians by day, in community every other Thursday evening, and heroes by night, the players use their powers to problem solve and offer protection and support around town. These powers must be used sparingly, however, because every use of a superpower demands a specific and costly remuneration.

For some reason or other, your characters are under a contract that gives them powers. How that contract came to be and how it functions is up to you, but the result is this: every time you activate your superpower, you must pay a price. If you do not pay this price, your character is immediately subjected to intense physical pain.

The book has a short list of some common superpowers, such as flight, fire manipulation, and super senses. It also has a short list of consequences - with options such as get an animal to bite you, run for five minutes, and take a shot of alcohol. The book has some basic guidelines for what to consider when creating your own powers and prices, so I think the world is your oyster with a game like this.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #game recommendations #asks #superheroes

[basiatlu]

On Theft in Art

First: thank you to the anon here and the other many people who brought this to my attention! I know you did it out of support of me and I love you for it.

I was ready to keep it private as I didn’t want anything negative to come up and be associated with my art. But as I was asked across different platforms concerning the art in question I realized it really bummed me out. I’m here to have a good time in the fandom and create with you all. We have a good thing here in the community and I didn’t want any smoke with another artist - a mutual even.

So to help me feel a little better about it I want to turn this into an opportunity to teach others on the differences between Reference, Inspiration, Reinterpretation, and Theft

Reference: (usually) a visual source of information in order to better understand something. Example here is of my reference board and the art I am currently working on.

My favorite example of a professional using reference photos is by Hirohiko Araki (creator and artist of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure), who uses fashion editorials and photoshoots ALL the time it’s awesome - tysm @yumiaiyuma for showing me this goldmine

Study and Inspiration: here is a great example from the wonderful Stephanie Pepper. Notice the caption stating these are studies, the movie it is from, and I will even go on to say that this artist is influenced or inspired by the prolific works of J. C. Leyendecker (but what’s key is that Stephanie Pepper has developed and practiced to the point of deviating from his work and become a style of art completely her own - and she’s so recognizable in my opinion!)

Personal Example for Inspiration:

An Example of Reinterpretation: note - Both these classical artists whose works are being recycled are dead and no longer missing out on potential work and income. Where stealing ideas and art from current artists hurts them financially and mentally and emotionally. Howl as The Fallen Angel by _mimimaru on Instagram is an interpretation of a 1847 painting by Alexandre Cabanel and is now considered public domain // the Mickey Mouse self portrait was by Charles Boyer and is a parody of the famous illustration by Norman Rockwell and was commissioned by Walt Disney, himself.

Now here’s the part that is concerning to several people, myself included.

Recently, an artist found the reference I used, and decided to draw Andromeda, Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Regulus staring at Sirius getting supposedly punished by Walburga Black off screen.

Let’s be clear: this isn’t a matter of tracing or claiming my image as their own. I do not mind at all if myself and another artist end up using the same reference. It happens all the time. Referencing and studying is not stealing. Reinterpretation is great for meme art challenges and paying respect to old classics. Even being inspired and doing one’s own version of another artist’s idea is totally cool, especially if you tag and/or shoutout the artist that inspired you.

I genuinely love and appreciate everyone who has brought this to my attention and who has been supportive and defensive of me with this. That reaction means more to me than anything else in this whole ordeal, if I’m being honest. So thank you all so much, with all my heart.

In closing: Do I hope this is all one gigantic coincidence? Absolutely. It’s one of those very uncool things that hurts my heart as an artist. I just want everyone to enjoy art and inspire each other so we can all grow. I do not want any malice to come from this either. I just wanted to inform everyone that I am aware of this, and give some of my thoughts on it. I also wanted to use this as a way to educate everyone on artistic process and why these things might happen sometimes.

Edit: me and the artist have chatted and we see it as a silly coincidence ♡ and honestly I'm happy and so relieved with that. But I think a lot of this info is still good to be mindful of in a creative community where we circulate ideas and content regularly.

#shushbosh #ugly business sorry #I’m happy to talk with anyone on this of course #art thoughts

[dimplesandfierceeyes]

Don't know if u r still taking bad buddy prompts. But if u r, high school patpran teaching kissing or practicing kissing and Pat realizing his feelings and getting together.

OP.

OP OP OP.

How did you know?

How did you know this was my weakness?

Anyway, when this prompt came in the whole plot basically appeared in my head fully formed and all I needed was the time to make it real. I hope you all enjoy!

~~~

Practice Makes Perfect

(I know, I know, the least original title ever)

Pran wasn’t sure when it had become an unspoken rule that they would meet in his bedroom. He guessed it made sense. Pat’s family was nosy; they walked in and out of each other’s bedrooms unannounced and didn’t seem to like doing anything alone if they could drag another person into it too. Still, every time Pat was in his room, Pran’s heart rate skyrocketed with anxiety. (Only anxiety, definitely only anxiety.)

Pat was here again, all lanky-limbed six-foot of him sprawled over Pran’s bed like he was entitled to it. He’d grown again. Up until last year they’d been neck-and-neck for height but this year, Pran had slowed down and Pat, annoyingly, hadn’t. Not only that, but his shoulders were getting broader too whilst Pran’s stayed stubbornly slim, just like his mae’s. Not for the first time, Pran wished he’d inherited more of his father’s easy musculature.

“So we just gotta watch the scene and answer these questions right?” Pat asked, staring at the sheet he was holding in front of him. He was lying on his stomach, propped up on his elbows so he could screen while Pran had claimed the desk chair.

“Yes.” 

“Oh, cool! That’s easy.” 

They were working on literature homework: the interpretations of play adaptation. This was the second version of this play they were watching and the questions were mostly about drawing comparisons. Pran clicked on the file the teacher had uploaded and blinked as a thumbnail popped up showing two male characters.

“I thought this was supposed to be the kiss scene?” Pat questioned. “Has the teacher uploaded the wrong file?”

“I don’t think so. Nobody else has said it was a different scene,” Pran replied. He was still staring at the screen, his heart pumping so much faster than it should have been as he considered the only other possibility. 

“So basically it’s a BL version,” Pat laughed.

“I guess.” Pran furiously told his heart there was no difference between watching a straight kissing scene with Pat or watching a BL one. It didn’t listen.

“Alright, let’s get started, I guess.”

Pran had never wished for his parents to get home early from the weekly shop but it turned out there really was a first time for everything. Unfortunately, no engine noise rumbled up to the front gate and Pran was forced to accept that this was, in fact, happening. 

He could barely pay attention to the questions on the sheet of paper in front of him, though he spent as much time as he could staring down at it as the men on the screen danced around each other, feeling the other out, before finally shattering the tension, reaching for each other as if starving. Pran had watched the exact same scene in class between a man and a woman without even blinking. Now he was hot all over, hyper aware of Pat lying on his bed behind him watching two men kiss on his computer screen, and he could only hope that his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt they should be. 

The end of the scene couldn’t come soon enough.

“Okay,” Pran said as professionally as he could manage, lifting his sheet in the air to show he meant business as he quarter-turned in his chair so he had his profile to Pat. 

“What do you think it’s like for the actors? To kiss a guy, I mean,” Pat chimed in with his usual inability to not send Pran’s mind into chaos. 

“Pretty much like kissing a girl,” Pran replied tightly, lifting his sheet a little higher. It was once again ignored.

“Do you think it is? Just the same as a kissing a girl? I think it would be different.”

“Why would it be different? They’re both just people.” Pran replied, unable to believe he was actually locked into this conversation.

“I don’t know,” Pat shrugged. “Have you ever done it? Kissed a guy?” 

Pran barely managed not to choke on his own saliva. “Wh-What business is that of yours?” 

Pat’s eyes went as round as saucers, his mouth dropping open. “Wait, you have?”

“I didn’t say that,” Pran replied rapidly but he could see it was already too late.

“Holy shit, you have! Why didn’t you tell me?” If a tone of voice could be a pout, Pat’s would have been a prime example.

“Why would I tell you that?”

“Who was it?”

“Why would I tell you that either?”

“You know all the girls I’ve kissed,” Pat complained.  

Unfortunately, Pran thought to himself. “It’s not like I ever asked for that information.”

Pat ignored the jibe, steamrolling over it. “So, was it? Was it different from kissing a girl?”

“None!” Pran replied spitefully, despite having never kissed a girl.

“Oh,” Pat looked disappointed. “Not at all?”

“What sort of difference should there be?” Pran asked, exasperated. 

“I don’t know, it just feels like there would be.” Pat frowned for a second before suddenly his expression released and he looked at Pran like he’d just thought of something. Pran got a sharp and defined sense of foreboding. “What if we tried it?”

“What?” Pran squeaked.

“I mean, I know you didn’t think there was a difference, but maybe it would be different for me,” Pat reasoned. 

"And this is my problem, how?" Pran managed to force out as his entire body launched into a state of panic hitherto only observed in mice fleeing a hungry cat. 

"Oh, come on," Pat whined in a way that was terrifyingly close to the way that had wheeled Pran into truly remarkable levels of trouble several times. "It's not like I'd be your first guy; I'd just be your second! It's not like it's special or anything."

"What kind of logic is that? Then I'd-I'd be your first!"

"I don't mind," Pat replied with a shrug and Pran's mind gurgled. 

He knew he had to say no, that if he kept just pointing out problems Pat would just keep countering them. But then he’d be saying no. To Pat kissing him.

“Come on, what do you want?” Pat asked, sounding exasperated.

“What?”

“I know you’re just stretching it out because you want me to agree to lose at something in return.”

“I don’t need you to agree to lose; I can make you lose any day.” Pran replied automatically. Pat rolled his eyes.

“Just name your terms, Parakul.”

Pran flung out an idea from the void. “The next rugby match. If I’m close to the goal post, find a way to fumble the ball to me.”

Pat frowned, brow furrowing as if in dilemma, before huffing dramatically. “Fine. The next match is yours.”

Pran’s already abused heart was electrocuted by the words, now hammering at double the speed. He’d agreed. He might not have actually said the words, but he’d agreed to let Pat kiss him. He didn’t know if he was a genius or insane. 

Pat seemed to be waiting for something and it took Pran a second to realise it was for him to walk over to the bed. His mind rebelled the idea, it felt too much like a capitulation to be the one to move. And what if he looked eager? He couldn’t bear the thought.

“I’m not going to you,” he said as dismissively as he could manage. “You were the one who wanted to see how different it was.”

Another huff was released and then Pat rolled his eyes so dramatically his whole head got involved in the action, but he did start to lift himself off the bed. 

Pran only realised what a mistake he’d made when Pat was already looming in front of him. Then Pat was leaning forwards and Pran was caged in, one of Pat’s hands on the desk next to him to steady himself and the other reaching for Pran’s cheek. It found it with a gentleness that was foreign, strange. Pran’s lungs pulled in short, sharp breaths through his nose as Pat’s long fingers settled around his ear and he was pinned by Pat’s uncertain gaze.

He waited for him to call it off, convinced that this alone would be enough to make Pat retreat, that he would pull back, laugh, shake his head, proclaim how weird it was, but instead… instead…

Instead Pat’s eyes fell shut and his head tilted and he bowed lower and lower until his lips made contact with Pran’s. The touch was soft but without hesitation, lips slipping open to catch Pran’s between them. Then, already, they were pulling away, leaving Pran’s mouth cold and wanting. Pran flicked his eyes open, not sure even when he’d closed them, and watched as Pat opened his own, slow and unfocused.

“You call that a kiss?” The question was supposed to be scathing, mocking, anything that brought them back to their status quo, but Pran’s voice was suddenly hoarse and breathless, as though he hadn’t spoken in weeks and his throat was parched. 

There was no hiding the want in every syllable.   

“What would you call it?” Pat asked. To Pran’s devastation, he sounded just as rough.

“Barely anything,” Pran replied, his voice half a whisper as adrenaline flooded through his veins. 

Because he knew what he was going to do next. 

And he knew there was no way of stopping himself even if he tried. 

As if the want inside of him had torn into his limbs, seizing control, his hand shot up and grabbed Pat by the back of his head. He dragged him down, no gentleness, no subtlety, no mercy. He ransacked Pat’s mouth like a thief ripping through a household, eager to take everything he could before occupants woke up. 

He didn’t expect Pat to fight back. 

There was no paralysed surprise, no frozen astonishment, Pat let him take and take and take and then stole it all back and more. His hand gripped at Pran’s hair, his teeth nipped and scraped over Pran’s lip, his tongue licked into Pran’s mouth like he wanted to own it. Pran could barely breathe under the onslaught, control slipping away from him as he tried to process the ferocity of Pat’s response. Then all the competition seemed to slip away and they were just kissing, kissing, kissing.

By the time they broke apart, they were both gasping for air. 

Pran looked up at Pat in astonishment, but Pat didn’t look back. His eyes were still closed, forehead bent against Pran’s forehead as he hauled oxygen into his lungs, like he was trying to fix the memory of their kiss in his head forever. The only sound in the entire room was their broken breathing.

Then he smiled, the single most beautiful and most ruinous smile Pran had ever seen, before he opened his eyes. He tilted his head as he grinned down at Pran like they were sharing a secret. Pran felt his mouth respond in kind and Pat’s gaze dipped down, catching on his lips before dragging back up.

Instinctively, deliberately, somewhere in between, Pran’s eyeline dropped from Pat’s captivating gaze to his tempting mouth. His lips were red and puffy, shining with a hint of…

Me, Pran thought. That’s from me. 

And he looked back up in time just to see Pat lean back down and then he was being kissed again. He responded instantly, surging up to steal more of Pat’s taste, and somehow ended up standing, his hands in Pat’s hair. Pat’s arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, making Pran’s heart jolt as they were pressed together from hip to chest and Pat’s heat bled through their clothes. 

He’d never been this close to another person. Not even the only other boy he’d kissed, who’d sat next to him and kissed him awkwardly, neither of them entirely sure what they were doing. This—Pat—was something else entirely. He felt submerged in him, Pat on his tongue, on his skin, on his body, everywhere and anywhere, all at once, and he sank into him rapturously, a willing victim of his own drowning. 

Pat tugged and Pran followed, edging carefully, unhurriedly, across the floor as their mouths danced to a rhythm of their own making. Then Pat pulled away to drop down onto Pran’s bed, dragging Pran after him. Pran settled eagerly into his lap, unable to resist one little quip before bent his head to kiss him.

“In my bed already, Napat? Are you always this easy?”

“No, you’re just special,” Pat replied breathlessly and then Pran had to devour him. 

Pran didn’t know how long their fourth kiss lasted for but by the time they broke apart, the streetlights outside were turning a burnt umber and Pran’s lips were so sensitive they were tingling. He swallowed weakly, hands still twisted in Pat’s hair, hips almost bruised with Pat’s fingerprints.

 “So. Any differences?” he found himself asking. Pat chuckled breathlessly. 

“Just a few, yeah.” 

Pran smiled back at him, his lips almost sore but in a pleasant way as he curved them upwards. One of Pat’s thumbs had found its way under Pran’s shirt and was rubbing over the skin at the base of his waist. 

“Can we do this again?” Pat asked, eyes dropping to Pran’s mouth. “More than once? Can we do this many times?”

Pran laughed. “How often are you thinking?”

“I don’t know. Once a week? Once a day? Once an hour?” Pat grinned cheekily and Pran’s cheeks were going to ache from how broad his own smile was. 

“You’re gonna wake up every hour, are you?”

“It would be worth it.” That was too much for Pran. He closed his eyes, shaking his head as he laughed again.

“You’re so cheesy.” 

“Pran, I’m serious. I think we should date.” Pat continued earnestly, a smile still colouring his voice like a warm sunset.

Pran opened his eyes, wide and uncertain. Pat looked back at him candidly.

“Pat…That…”

"You don't want to?"

"I… didn't say that." 

Pat beamed, somewhere between delighted and smug and Pran shoved him backwards with more show than force. Pat faked falling anyway, tilting backwards dramatically before bouncing up with a grin. Pran tried not to be affected by it.

“If our parents found it, they would kill us,” he pointed out.

“Why would they need to find out? I sneak into your bedroom almost every week. They’ve never found that out, have they?” 

Pran loved how stubborn Pat was.

“We won’t be able to tell anyone. I mean, anyone. Not even Duke. Not even Pa.” 

“Is this you saying yes? Pran, are you saying yes to me?”

“Who said I’m saying yes,” Pran tried to sound aloof but it was hard when he was still straddling Pat’s lap and his hands had settled on Pat’s shoulders.

Pat’s smile spilled out over his entire face, eyes little more than curved lines as he laughed. “You are. You are saying yes,” Pat told him. Pran didn’t disagree.  

He also didn’t disagree when Pat said they should kiss again. 

~~~

Aaaand done. Don't think about what happens after the concert. @miscellar already made that mistake. Just don't do it yourself.

Anyway I hope you enjoyed it OP! And all the others that come across this mini fic! Look out for an actually edited version of this to appear on AO3 sometime soon....

#bad buddy #patpran #bad buddy fanfic #pat x pran #pranpat #pran x pat #bbs #bad buddy series #kayla writes #lovely asks #lovely ask prompts

[starlostastronaut]

DAY 12 | BE MINE

PAIRING: yang jeongin x reader

GENRE: fluff, non idol au

WC: 1.18k

CW: nothing

PROMPT: dandelions - ruth b

its finally here, a load of innie fluff. the ending kinda sucks bc me and dialogue arent really friends, but i did my best. innie being a mess around crushes is just so cute imo. anyway, i hope you enjoy <3

title from dandelions - ruth b

general masterlist here

<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>

Yang Jeongin was never the one to be open with his feelings. He wasn't like Chan, who flirted his way through to everybody. Not like Minho, who was always straightforward with his crushes, telling them how he felt with confidence. He wasn't like Felix, who made people fall in love just with his smile. And he wasn't like Hyunjin, who turned into a complete mess whenever he found himself in close proximity to his crushes. Still, he somehow charmed them into dating him. No, Jeongin was nothing like them. He preferred to stay in the shadows and admire his crush from afar.

And this time around, it was no different. When Jeongin realized he thought of you differently than everyone else, he simply stopped at that. He didn’t make a move or tell anyone. He was content to just make up silly scenarios with you in his head before he went to sleep. To think of you as a dream, an unreachable desire. Just like he did with all of his crushes, until they eventually passed and he moved on.

But despite his best efforts, something changed this time. Maybe it was because, unlike his previous crushes, you two were already friends. But one thing was for sure: You weren’t an ordinary crush. You were something that ran much deeper.

When Jeongin pictured your smile, it made him feel something. He felt the urge to smile whenever you looked at him. The way you said his name sent butterflies into his stomach. When he was in your presence, he felt so free and happy. You were it for him, he realized one night, when he was hopelessly dreaming about you again. Jeongin didn't believe in soulmates, but if he did, he was sure you would be his.

Yet he didn't do anything. He stayed close to you. He accepted your hugs with much less resistance. He made the effort to hang out more often. But he kept silent, loving you from the safety of his bedroom, not letting the world know. 

Until he couldn't anymore. So he did what everyone would do. He went to Felix, the resident romantic in your group.

Which is why, two months later, you found yourself with yet another letter. You didn’t know how it began or who was behind it, but at the beginning of every week, you found a letter at your door. They weren’t long, usually just cute little notes about you. Your secret admirer would tell you compliments phrased like lines out of a poetry book. They congratulated you on your achievements and gave you reminders of how well you were doing when something didn't work out the way you wanted. It should be creepy, the way this stranger seemed to know everything about you, every little detail from your personal life as well. They even knew where you lived. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Somehow, your heart knew that the admirer was harmless. They would never abuse their knowledge of you. Seungmin thought you should be checked by a psychiatrist, but nobody paid attention to his comments. “He's just jealous because nobody sends him letters,” Felix once said, exchanging a knowing look with Jeongin. Seungmin rolled his eyes at that, looking strangely smug, as if he had just uncovered a mystery. Either way, his remarks on that topic stopped after that.

It didn't change the fact that you still didn't know who gave you the letters. They never left a name, only a drawing of a dandelion. At first, you thought it was a prank, so made all your friends draw you a dandelion, but none of it matched. Another time you tried to stay up and spy on whoever would come in the night to give you a new letter. Four times, you stayed with Felix, who generously volunteered to help you. Sometimes you thought he was more interested in uncovering your secret admirer than you, with how eagerly he helped with finding clues. But despite your joined forces, they always slipped right through your fingers. Only once did you catch sight of a black hoodie running away, but that didn't help in the slightest. It could have been anybody.

Until today. Even before you received the letter, you could sense something was about to change. And you were correct. For starters, today's letter was accompanied by a real dandelion, as they just started to grow. And not only that. Besides the usual notes, there was a request. 

I think I'm finally ready to tell you who I am. If you wish to find out, follow the dandelion trail. I'll be waiting.

Confused, you stepped out into the street. And there was, in fact, a dandelion trail. Flowers were taped to walls and streetlights, showing you the way to your admirer. Ignoring the way your heart giddily fluttered at the thought of uncovering the person, you quickly grabbed the necessities and set out on a hunt. It was kind of like some cliché romantic comedy, but you had to admit it was kind of cute. The flowers led you to a nearby park. After a bit of searching, you found a figure clad in the same black hoodie you saw that one night. They stood with their backs to you.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. How the hell did they know you were here? There was no time for questions because the strange voice spoke again. “I've liked you for quite a while, but I never found the courage to tell you. Until now.” 

With a hitch of your breath, you realized you knew that voice. The gentle way he spoke, the slight accent, the unique tone. But that couldn’t have been...

Suddenly the hood dropped down, and you saw a very familiar hair colour. The stranger slowly turned around, holding a dandelion crown in his hands and a stupidly adorable smile on his face. 

“Jeongin,” you breathed out.

He smiled, pink dusting his cheeks and ears. “I know it was cliché, but I needed to build up the courage,” he confessed with a sheepish smile. He extended his arms towards you, offering you the crown. “What do you say? Be mine?”

For a moment, you stood there silent, completely taken aback. Where was all his confidence coming from? A part of your brain was still coming to terms that your admirer was Jeongin, leaving no room to process that Jeongin, whom you yourself had a small crush on, was the secret admirer who also managed to become your crush. 

“Sorry, this is all sort of overwhelming. I think I need a minute,” you admitted. Jeongin's shoulders slumped. Before he could run away like you knew he would, you stopped him. “But I like you too. That I don't need to think about.” 

Watching his face light up was the most beautiful thing you ever saw. Laughing at the romantic silliness of the whole scene and because you were just genuinely happy, you let Jeongin put the flower crown on your head.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings @darkypooo

©starlostastronaut 2023 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

#moony's countdown to christmas #mctc #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin #fluff #songfic

[hellspawnmotel]

I love your art!! I really admire your work and I love your deltarune fanart, especially how you draw noelle :) whenever I look at your art I always feel like you have such a firm grasp on anatomy and all your drawings feel like they really exist in 3d space, and i love how the characters in your drawings are shaped :0 do you have any tips for a learning artist?

well gosh, after you buttering me up like that, how can i refuse? (jk but in all serious, thank you so much this is SO sweet) anyway, let's see, tips..... (this ended up turning into a whole tutorial lmao)

so one thing you'll hear a lot of artists say is to start with a warm up first, but not a lot about what "warming up" actually means. some people take that to mean they have to start with a whole other drawing, personally i find that takes away too much energy and i end up spending way more time on it than i want to. i like doodling little cubes and cylinders, but if i have something to color sometimes i just do that to warm up. whatever works for you best, just anything to get your hand used to the motion of drawing.

for starting the actual drawing it really is important to begin with a line of action. think of it as a basic guideline for how you want to pose a character. it will help the pose flow better, trust me. (im going to draw noelle bc obviously im pretty used to that)

some artists start with just the line, i like to do the guide for the head first and then the line, whatever

you dont absolutely have to follow the line for your pose btw its just good to have an idea of what youre doing before you do it

after that is when you start worrying about shapes, usually. an important thing to remember when drawing is that absolutely everything is made of shapes, first and foremost. humans, animals, objects, drawing anything starts with shapes. circles squares and triangles. this goes for drawing from life too! it's why you want to start with a light pencil or a sketch layer cuz this is the stuff youre gonna erase later, but it's essentially the skeleton of your drawing

btw, i give noelle a very basic "average thin teenage girl" figure but it's good to practice other body types too and learn what shapes work best for drawing those

you mightve heard the advice to "draw the person nude first and then draw the clothes on top of them" and that's only partially true- it's good to know what the shape of the body is before you dive in with the clothes but you dont have to do like, a whole nude model first. you just need enough to understand how the fabric is going to fall on the body

also, and this is sort of off-topic, but when it comes to clothes its good to understand how different fabric works and how it's going to react to a body underneath it. some fabric clings, some is very loose, some is thin and some is thick. basically what im saying is that you dont have to shrink-wrap the clothing to the body, especially when it comes to a character with breasts or anything else that sticks out. thats a mistake a lot of beginner artists make. in this case, noelle's robe is very loose but i still want it to conform to her body a little bit so the pose isn't totally lost

aaaaand there ya go! after all that is when im ready to actually draw the dang thing. you can tell if you look close that i didnt totally follow the guidelines i made for myself, and that's okay. for example i tend to almost always draw the head too small and then have to enlarge it afterwards. one of the perks of being a digital artist is i can make mistakes and not have to re-do the whole drawing to fix them.

one other thing as to how to get better at actually drawing the body right in the first place- FIGURE DRAWING! as cliche as it might sound it really helps. it's best to draw from life, but if you can't get into a class for it there are plenty of websites out there with good photography of nude models. i also reference a lot of my poses from those websites, or sometimes from videos of figure skating or ballet if i think the situation calls for it.

this is a good website for figure drawing practice- it lets you set a timer so you can practice getting a pose down quickly or spend a lot of time on one model, your choice

also, yknow, always make sure you're having fun and dont stress out too much about whether what youre drawing looks good. the more you draw, the better, and don't think you have to post everything to social media if you dont want to. draw for yourself first and foremost and observe from life and artists you admire what you WANT to draw and want to get better at, and what looks like fun. that's the most important part

#(im doing this to avoid having to write something else dont tell anyone) #i have no idea if this is a good tutorial or not or if its all stuff you already know #im basically parroting what i was taught in art school. so you dont have to go to art school

[moonlight-prose]

first you flirt with layla and end up kissing her- which ends up making marc jealous in return. he spends days moping about and starts making snarky comments to hide his jealousy (he’s not so great at hiding it)

then you kiss steven, who can’t stop thinking about it for the next couple of days. filling his and marc’s head with thoughts about you

eventually marc ends up drunk at your front door crying about being the only one being left out (he’ll deny he cried about it)

KISS ME, KISS ME, KISS ME

a/n: this drabble was MEANT to be super short and small, but i ramble so here we go my darling. i hope you enjoy!

word count: 1556 (don't look at me)

pairing: layla el-faouly x reader, steven grant x reader, marc spector x reader

warnings: kissing, more kissing, and some spit kink (again really don't look at me)

The first time you kiss Layla it’s soft. Softer than you imagined it would be—a direct opposite to what you usually get when kissing other people. She doesn’t swiftly grasp for you; doesn’t bite down harshly on your lip to remind you who exactly was in charge. No, it’s tender, gentle and by all means reverent. She leads you into a dance of subtle hints and sweet smiles, until you feel a dizzying high that’s so different from anything you’ve experienced before.

Before you even notice it, she’s licking slowly into your mouth—tongue pressing against yours and you swear you can taste that coffee she always orders in the morning. Her hand is buried in your hair—not enough to hurt—just enough for you to clasp onto. A reminder that this wasn’t Marc or Steven…this was her.

She pulls away, eyes fluttering open to take in your almost intoxicated expression. That sight alone draws her lips up in a smile—not quite a smirk, but you can see it beneath the surface. She likes the way you look. As if you’d bend to her will with yet another kiss and the truth of the matter was…you would.

“Fuck,” you whisper, eyes hazy as your mind came up with scenario after scenario.

“You’re so pretty,” she murmurs. Sliding her thumb along your bottom lip with barely any pressure, she gathers the saliva left behind and pushes inward until your lips are wrapped around her finger.

If you died in this moment—you’d be okay with it. Given the way your insides had turned molten and your brain short circuited the second she placed her lips on yours. Whimpering, you drag her closer until your lips are back on hers and she’s once again leading you through a dance you never wish to stop. You want the taste of her burned into your mind. So sweet and subtle, but strong enough to get drunk off of.

You don’t stop kissing her until she has to leave and even then you beg for one more in the open doorway of your home.

You kiss Steven for the first time three days after Layla. What came over you to reach over, drag him in by the collar, and slot your lips against his you’ll never know. But you’ll never forget the way he gasped—a shudder running down his spine as you tangled your fingers in the hair at the base of his neck. It’s not nearly as intoxicating as Layla and you’re thankful he doesn’t overtake you, but it’s beautiful.

He sighs into your mouth like he’d thought of nothing else for months, before he’s lightly dragging his hands upwards. The pressure of his palms against your waist is enough to drive you mad. Or at least drag him so close his scent is burned into your senses, the way his tongue hesitantly sweeps through your mouth. He doesn’t know how to kiss—that much is obvious—but it doesn’t stop you.

Oddly enough the door opens and Layla walks in. A smile gracing her face as she finds you practically sitting on Steven’s lap, your tongue sensually pressing against his until he’s shaking. You nearly feel bad for making him whimper, beg, plead for more. Except then you pull back to see his face and realize…this is what Layla must have seen on yours.

It’s a new kind of high to see Steven’s eyes all glassy—his lips in a perpetual pout that has your own curving up to a smile. You like him like this. Putty in your hands as you slowly lean in to kiss him again. Layla’s lips press against your bare shoulder—whispers of how good you two look together echo in your ear before she’s pulling away. She had her time with you…now it’s Steven’s turn. Fair is far after all.

That doesn’t stop you from licking into Steven’s mouth, gathering saliva on your tongue before moving away to cup the back of her neck, pressing an open mouthed kiss on her lips—pushing Steven’s spit into her mouth. She moans into the kiss, her hand tightly gripping at your hair before shifting back and leaving the two of you alone once more. Steven is greedy enough to cup your cheeks and turn your face back to his with enough timidness to melt your heart.

He wants you—craves you, and it’s there you realize that you’ll give him whatever he wants just to have a chance to kiss him like this again.

“Well I just don’t see the point in kissing them both,” he mutters into his glass of whiskey.

Your eyebrows raise as you attempt to bite back the smirk that threatened to show on your face. “You don’t see the point in me wanting to kiss…both of them.”

He grumbles, the scowl you recognize so well on his face once again returning. “Well yeah. Layla is my wife–”

“Divorced.”

“And Steven is literally apart of me–”

“I’ll give you that but–”

“So why did you want to kiss them and…” he trails off, staring into the amber liquid as if it would give him all the answers he sought.

Smiling, you lean forward to cup his chin and drag his head upwards so his eyes lock on yours. “Marc…did you want me to kiss you too?”

The red flooding his face tells you everything you need to know. “No,” he states. “Absolutely not. Have fun with both of them.”

Letting go of his face, you lean back—swallowing the rest of your drink and shrugging. “Whatever you say Spector,” you tease, getting up from the table. “Enjoy your drink.”

It’s two hours later that a sullen knock is hitting your door. Before you even open it you know it’s him—can feel it in your bones—and low and behold you swing the door open to see him…drunk. He leans against your doorway, the curls more pronounced and falling into his face the way Steven wears it. You nearly mistake him for Steven until he begins speaking—the American accent coming through thick and strong.

“Why didn’t you kiss me too?” he asks, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

The sight alone nearly makes your heart shatter. “Oh baby,” you whisper.

“Steven’s been replaying the kiss you two had and all I can think about is…why didn’t you kiss me? Did I fuck up somehow? Or…or hurt you?”

He didn’t know how wrong he was. You had wanted to kiss him the first day you met him—the anxiety of the day still prominent in your mind, but you could recall your imagination running rampant with thoughts of him. Of Marc and his lips. Without another word, you drag him into your home and shut the door. He’s moping, you can see it written across his face. Of course, you won’t tease him about it. You know what longing for kisses feels like.

“Do you want me to kiss you Marc?” you asked gently, cupping his face to keep his eyes level with your own.

“I just–” His eyes close. “Yes. I would.”

Leaning in slowly, you press your lips against his and feel the steady rate of your heart speed up until your nerves are all you can focus on. Even when he’s not trying, he’s good at this. He moves sluggishly, breathing harshly against your cheek, until his brain finally catches up with what’s happening. The world turns on its axis as you’re walking back until you hit a wall, his lips now giving you a run for your money. Whereas Layla was teasing and giving, Marc takes. Steals your breath and makes you beg for more.

Where Steven was soft and hesitant, Marc is strong and dominant. There’s something in his hold that says he wants this—you—but he’s also afraid of hurting you. As if you’ll break beneath his palms. Moaning into the kiss, you shudder when his tongue sweeps along yours, running along the top of your mouth and dragging another sound from your throat. Why you hadn’t kissed him sooner, you don’t know. You were sorely regretting waiting so long at this moment.

“Marc,” you gasp, eyes fluttering shut when his teeth pull at your bottom lip gently.

“Mhm.” It’s mumbled against your cheek, his breath hot along your skin.

He’s driven your mind to madness, the heat burning through your body until you can’t think straight anymore. You don’t even fucking want to at this point. All you can sense, taste, feel, is Marc and you want more. You want him to drag you to hell and back with his lips alone. Tugging at his hair, you manage to gain the upper hand, sucking on his tongue and smirking into the kiss when it’s his turn to moan.

“You’re right,” you breathe, choking when he nips down your throat. “I should have kissed you a lot sooner.”

It’s a day later when Layla hears about what happened. You bet the hickeys on his neck tell her the story and you joke that they are now matching. Steven is last to find out—laughing at Marc’s expense when he learns what exactly occurred. It’s enough to make you smile. Even though Marc refuses to accept the fact that he begged…let alone nearly cried.

That however is soon rectified when you press your lips against his again.

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector #layla el faouly x reader #layla el faouly x you #layla el faouly x y/n #layla el faouly #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant #moon knight fic #moon knight #my writing #posting this and RUNNING #adiossss

[heartkyeom]

grad student!seokmin headcanon

word count: 742

notes: hi, long time no see! I don’t know what this is tbh, my writing has been quite stalled lately but this has been sitting in my drafts so I figured I would finish and post it, I hope you like it. happy new year and I hope you’re taking care of yourself 💗 also sorry for the duplicate line under the read more!! tumblr hates me so it won’t let me fix it

taglist: @weakforsvt @junhui-recs @rasparagus @just-here-to-read-01 @baekhyunstruly

grad student!seokmin walks you home after your shared lecture that always runs late. He always grumbled that your professor should be aware of the time, and you always agree wholeheartedly. You insist that you can walk by yourself, but he doesn’t mind, and you secretly enjoy his company. You both keep each other accountable for thesis deadlines and you’re definitely the closest to each other out of your cohort. Even when you cry on his shoulder about your research feeling unorganized or meaningless, he’s making sure you remember why the work you do is important. In return, you text him not to stay up until 5 am writing like usual. After you both finish your final presentations on the final day of the semester, he walks you home one last time.

“But still, thank you, I really appreciate it,” You smile at him, but you’re not sure you can capture the gravity of your feelings.

“But still, thank you, I really appreciate it,” You smile at him, but you’re not sure you can capture the gravity of your feelings.

The silence is quite intense, you’ve never been this awkward around him before. Both of you are typically able to keep conversation better than this, but you internally grasp for anything that could make him stay a bit longer.

“It’ll be weird not seeing you every few days,” You admit. He turns his head away for a moment, looking slightly reminiscent of the past few months already.

“Same, I’m gonna miss it. We can still hang out though!” He exclaims sweetly.

You knew it wouldn’t be the same, though. You could spend time with him anywhere, but these night walks were a different kind of intimacy that you didn’t think you could replicate with anyone else.

You were already used to the way he laughed slightly too loud at all your jokes, the way he smiled so bright that it reached his eyes, and the way he always waited for you to enter your building before walking away.

His kindness had all built up to feelings that were more than platonic. Now, it was just a matter of if you could confess to him or not.

“Of course, but I have to be honest,” You clear your throat and he stiffens slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ll miss you because I like you,” You sigh too loud at your own words before continuing, “and letting the semester end without saying anything would make me realize how much I like you. Then, I’d have to wait even longer to tell you.”

He blinks at you, but you notice he’s blushing. You’ve fucked it up, you don’t know why you couldn’t have just bit back your crush like most people could.

Yet, you knew you’d regret it if you didn’t tell him. You prepare for the worst as you watch him approach you, your faces only a few inches apart. He holds your hands in his own.

“I like you too, I just wasn’t sure how to say it yet,” He almost mumbles as he looks down at your hands.

“But, I’m glad you found the courage to tell me,” He finally makes eye contact with you and your heart could nearly burst from how sweet he looks.

“You’re cute,” you giggle. He brings his face closer to yours and it makes you laugh even harder.

“Kiss me and I’ll be even cuter,” He replies. You take the command and connect your lips to his, you can barely comprehend how good it feels. You feel his hands on your face and it draws you into his orbit even further.

You’re almost gasping for air by the time you pull away from him.

Silence lingers between the two of you, and you decide in that moment that you can’t let him get away, not this time.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” You ask quietly, your heart is in your throat but you can’t help but press your luck one last time.

He turns his head away from you for a moment, but you can see the brilliant smile that spreads across his cheeks.

He faces you again and you can hear his excitement before he speaks a single word.

“I would love to.”

#svthub #seokmin fluff #dk fluff #seokmin x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #this was cute #and I am ... trying to make myself write small things again #writing feels like a very big chore rn so I'm trying to ease myself back into writing anything at all #anyways! yeah #seokmin

[sugamehhq]

His Smile

[Johnny's POV]

-

Waking up this morning felt like a dream. Having opened my eyes to my future laying beside me, nothing felt real.

Of course I've been through the process of a wedding, so I knew how to go about planning. The outfits, the theme, the place, everything was in my hands, and I wanted it to be perfect.

The morning started smoothly. Cuddles, kisses, and good mornings were shared. We had a few hours before our friends were to arrive. They were to help us get ready, you know, to 'not see each other's outfits' and all.

The closer it got to the time, the more nervous we both felt. I knew it would be fine, everything was planned out the way it should be. My fiance on the other hand had no reassurance to his worries.

He worried as if the whole thing was a performance. Hell, I'd say he was more worried than I usually get before a big shoot. Having paused his own preparations, I took the chance to tell him it was all taken care of. How there was nothing to worry about, our friends and I would make sure of it.

That all he needed to do was be himself.

A comforting hug, gentle kisses, some joking around, and he was able to get himself back in the groove. 

Watching him was one of my favorite things.

Knowing this is what I'll have for the rest of my life made it even better.

-

Admittedly, when it came down to the dressing and being separated from each other, I began to worry a bit myself. Embarrassing if you ask me, but my best man understood my reasons. He was always one to turn down comforting someone with an apathetic joke, but I guess he had some heart for 'my special day'. 

I worried about the strength of our relationship, if this would really last, or if I was just setting myself up to lose it all again. 

It didn't take long for me to understand that he was different. He is the source of my comfort, the one that keeps me grounded. He doesn't know it, but he does a lot for this obnoxious movie star.

How he ended up choosing me, I had no idea, but who am I to complain. I wouldn't trade him for the world.

The entire ceremony as it stands is a complete blur to me. The only thing I remember was his face. How he smiled. He looked content, like he was proud of his choice.

It reassured me that he felt the same way I did.

-

We stood in the middle of a grand room. Everyone else had cleared the floor, allowing only us to occupy it. Some people watched, some turned away. I took his hand and pulled him close to me, leaving little to no space between us.

I guess it just took a while to hit me, but halfway through our 'dance' I suppose you'd call it, I started to cry. There was no reason to, but I did anyway.

Fortunately, my face was hidden against his shoulder. I hoped he wouldn't ask, knowing him he'd laugh at whatever I had to say, but I love his laugh, so maybe it was okay.

It took some time for him to say anything. He only spoke when I shook under his arms, my tears staining his expensive outfit.

His hand planted itself against my head, gently combing through my hair. He made sure to speak quietly to not draw attention, which I appreciated, though it’s not like you could hear through the loud music anyway.

"Why the tears..?"

I hesitated to respond. My mind searched for any cohesive thought, something to give him an answer.

"I don't deserve you," was the first thing I could think of.

As expected, a soft laugh escaped his lips.

God I love that sound.

I felt his grip tighten slightly around my waist, our bodies swaying together gently.

"You deserve more than you think," he sighed over my shoulder.

It probably looked stupid the way I held him, but I couldn't help it. I latched onto him, as if he would drift away from me if I dared to let go. I didn't care. 

Despite being someone who appears clueless, he really does know what to say.

My voice melted into a river of things I love about him, everything that I felt was too extravagant for someone like me. He hummed in response to every ridiculous compliment I threw at him.

Except they weren't ridiculous, because they were true.

His smile is everything to me, the way his voice sounds, every little thing I could think of about him had left my mouth.

And he just hummed in response.

As the song ended, my tears continued. 

He pulled us apart to join our foreheads together. His hands holding my face, they began working to wipe the tears away.

"There's no need to cry..."

But there is.

I need him to know how I feel.

I need him to know I'm happy.

I want him to know he means the world to me, and always will.

-

It took some time for the tears to subside. When they did I was greeted with a clear view of his perfect smile. It was one of those smiles that looked sad, but was reassuring.

We made our way back to the main table, one that consisted of only us and a few friends. They congratulated us for the millionth time that day, of which we happily thanked them.

When it came down to the party subsiding and people heading home, we made sure to thank every person individually for coming. Traveling from one realm to another just for us? It really shows a lot about these people. It shows they really care. 

Soon enough, we were left alone. My now husband tugged at my sleeve, my attention falling to him. Something about the way he latched onto me hurt. I could tell he was waiting all day for everyone to leave just so he could appear vulnerable.

I know it's a bit dramatic, but the adrenaline of the night had started to wear off, so we found our way to the floor.

It was off putting to hear him begin to tell me everything he loved about me, his voice shaking.

I froze in that moment, his arms locking me in place. Everything he said went in one ear and out the other, but I heard it, even if it was for only a split second.

I wrapped my arms around him in return, my eyes filling with tears again as he shared his thoughts with me. Even if it was annoying to cry more that night, I happily accepted his tears. I love it when he shows me how he really feels.

We didn't stay there long, given it was getting pretty late. It was strange to head home after all that happened. Strange to know that the man in front of me was now mine, forever. He's my future, my everything, and again I wouldn't change it for the world.

I let him in the house first, as a gentleman would, and followed right behind him. He stood and waited for me to grab his hand, despite being able to see with Sento in the other. 

The way he stared when I locked our fingers together.

That perfect smile.

I smiled back before dragging him to the kitchen, some late-night wine never hurt anybody.

-

He let go of my hand while telling me he wanted to go change into something comfier, which was understandable, having been wearing a more complex suit than he's used to all day. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek before bolting off to the bedroom.

A wine glass was placed on the island in the middle of the kitchen, waiting for him to come back. I stood against the counter swirling the scarlet liquid in my own glass.

I wanted to reflect on the day, run it by myself again, to make sure everything was 100% perfect. Though I guess it had to wait seeing as he had returned from the bedroom.

He came back empty handed, Sento left on its stand in the other room. He had the place memorized, so being completely in the dark didn't phase him.

We stayed silent for a while, occasionally sipping our glasses. He sat at the island, head hanging low, but a gentle smile remained. I hadn't realized I was staring until he asked me if there was a problem.

There were no problems. In fact, everything was as it should be, though I hadn’t said it outloud, leaving him to wonder what the ‘problem’ was.

Before his smile could dissipate, I spoke up,

“I’m admiring.”

He froze, his smile forming into a laugh,

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I not allowed to appreciate what’s mine forever and always?”

“You are,” he swirled his glass gently, “but, don’t you think you might get tired of doing it so frequently?”

“Not at all.”

Having downed the rest of my drink, I placed the glass in the sink behind me. The dishes could wait until tomorrow.

I watched his smile widen as he listened to my footsteps, my hands finding their way around his waist. While I placed a few kisses along his neck, a gentle shiver rattled his body. His hand found its way to my face pulling us into a soft, and much needed kiss.

He always made sure his touch was gentle.

I always found it ironic how much he’s softened up since the first time we met. Being bumped up to husband status wasn’t so bad.

-

Kiss out of the way, I offered the idea of heading to bed, of which he happily agreed. He held my hand as I led the way, my thumb instinctually caressing his fingers. 

While he got comfortable under the covers, I changed out of formal attire and into some comfy clothes. He laid there with his arms open, waiting for me to take my place. Usually I’d have to fight my way into his arms, but I guess he was in an affectionate mood after today’s events.

My point was proven as his arms wrapped around me, a light kiss pressed to my forehead.

“You’re oddly affectionate tonight,”

“Am I not supposed to be?”

He sounded confused, as if I meant it as a bad thing.

“No, no, it’s just- You should do it more often,”

He huffed a quiet laugh, his arms tightening around me,

“Maybe I will.”

And that’s all I needed to hear.

-

The next morning I woke up to a cold bed. The body that was once beside me was no longer present. I started to consider the whole wedding as a dream.

“Good morning,”

Or not.

A noise of protest left my mouth as I rolled over onto my stomach. Never will I ever be a morning person.

My husband made his way to the side of the bed, Sento in one hand, the other coming to comb through my messy hair. His touch was comforting, my eyes threatening to drift back into slumber.

“Breakfast is waiting for you out in the kitchen,”

I mumbled in response, not entirely making words, but a good enough response to let him know I heard him.

Having thought he would’ve gotten tired of staring at me, I stayed still. A few minutes pass and he’s still combing through my hair. At that point, I didn’t even need to comb it myself.

My eyes adjusted to the morning sun pouring through the window. Blinking a few more times, I looked up at the silhouette in front of me. 

My husband, an incredible person full of nothing but love, staring down at me, the warm light outlining his figure. I studied the visual before me, taking in all that I could before it could leave.

But it never left.

It stayed until I was ready to get up.

He never moved.

He sat content along the side of the bed, watching me with the limited sight he was given.

No words were exchanged, just a gentle intertwining of our fingers.

I looked from our hands to his face.

And there it was.

His perfect smile.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Apologies if it sounds a bit rushed towards the end. I had a lot more planned for this writing, but nothing came out as I had hoped. HOWEVER, I like it enough to share with you all. Hopefully you enjoyed :))

#johnshi #mk1 #kenshi takahashi #johnny cage #mortal kombat 1 #sugameh's fic archive #kenshi x johnny #johnny x kenshi #johnny cage x kenshi takahashi #kencage

[capillaryspice]

Unpopular opinion rant incoming:

I did not enjoy Baldurs Gate 3

Before anything else I will admit I am biased, as strategy turn based games aren't something I'm usually into to begin with. I mostly ended up playing it because my partners and a friend are SUPER into the game and wanted to do a 4 player run. I do have 30 hours on a solo run I tried to get used to the game with, so I have a decent bit of experience with how it's supposed to run as a single player but I'm not judging companion stories or anything because I haven't completed them.

I do understand why people like BG3, and I don't wanna rain on anyone's parade for a very critically acclaimed game, but I do have some thoughts that I just need to get out of my head, so if you like the game and don't wanna hear me complain about it just scroll on ahead. If you do want to hear me complain, I'd love to hear if anyone else has had the same thoughts, because genuinely I've not really had anyone to talk to that hasn't been head-over-heels for it. (Actual thoughts under the cut)

-----------------

With that out of the way, for starters BG3 is a very impressive game. From a technical perspective, from a voice acting quality perspective, the sheer amount of tiny tiny details, etc... it is IMPRESSIVE. Too impressive, I'd almost have to say. Because, despite being impressed by it, I did not have FUN playing the game. For all its details it doesn't draw me in. For all the technical marvel, it's just too janky. It's all of the rules of DND and none of the immersion or fun

I would love to have had a functioning camera position that didn't give me whiplash whenever a new character in the combat of 20+ NPCs decides to do so much as shuffle to the left. It feels like pulling teeth when trying to select/interact with anything, god forbid a reaction happens while you're trying to attack and you just completely lose the action bc the interruption to movement pauses everything and screws u up. I'd love to be able to jump without going through two menu screens and a map to just hop over a gap(I'm never complaining about the Dark Souls jump being too complicated ever again). Also everything moves so slow, I would kill for a fucking Sprint button.

I would have liked anything approaching a streamlined combat system that didn't take a long ass time to set up a move that takes six seconds to play out, and then wait for ten minutes literally doing nothing while the rest of the NPCs in initiative whip the viewpoint around and get it stuck in walls and corpses so I can't even see what's happening while I can't do anything for the rest of the round

A lesser gripe, but just a bizarre choice to not do: Id like to hear the character voice I chose in character creation for cutscenes, instead of just background ambient lines. Like, if the last dragon age game (from 2014 mind you) can have a voiced main character with multiple voice options, this new game that has unique voice lines for every goddamn squirrel on the map and ALREADY PAID VOICE ACTORS TO VOICE THE MAIN CHARACTER TO BEGIN WITH can probably afford to do so. Hell, I'd like some background music that isn't just the tenth rendition of Down By The River in a different key. The bard music is all gorgeous, why couldn't they have reused some of those compositions as ambient music for different locations?

This is a MASSIVE game, and what they've put into it is definitely admirable, but like. Not in the ways that make a game breathable or immersive? The choices in where they've decided to dedicate the anal level of detail seems misguided from a just general player standpoint; There's some gorgeous settings in the game, but I was distracted every time by getting frustrated that I couldn't even get a more-than-vague look at any of the scenery I actually enjoyed because the camera is so limited in its angles. So I can't take a good look around what should be a beautiful temple that I'd love to see closer, but I can individually inspect every moldy apple and tax form on a random dinner table instead. It's a vast open world, but the character models have very clearly defined paths they have to stay within. The amount of unique NPCs is insane, but the mechanics themselves TREAT them as NPCs(i.e., resurrection rules), and they don't react to PCs unless ur doing Violence or Crimes (even og skyrim had NPCs have comments on if u weren't like wearing clothes, for instance). Every shelf and bag and nook and cranny are searchable, but that gets overwhelming very quickly as you have to choose between taking like an hour of real time to clear a cluttered area and possibly find something important but more likely just end up with a bajillion rotten carrots, or move on but have the anxiety of knowing you've possibly missed something vital. There's a million options you can take at any moment with any object or character, but there's rarely anything indicating what will be vital later for general world stuff. But then with the main plot (the Emperor, Raphael, the crèche) it felt very railroaded in the sense that TECHNICALLY you could try and choose between outcomes, but your choices don't actually matter because you die if you choose The Wrong Option (or end up in effectively death sentence combat) and will end up where they want you to go regardless.

BG3 isn't a game I want to spend time playing; it's not a world I can wander around and appreciate the beauty of and get lost in the soundtrack or the environments. The whole combat system is incredibly frustrating to manage, and just feels like Hurry Up And Wait. I'm not gonna knock the romance parts of the game, I've heard good things and haven't gotten far enough in any of em to have an educated opinion on, so really the only thing the game has to offer in spades OTHER than romance is replayability. Which normally I would say is a good thing, but for how long of a game it is and how non immersive the gameplay and world feel, it really just ends up being a game of fucking around and seeing how many things you can get an alternate dialogue for or create new stats around. Like, this is great for completionist folks who love collecting achievements and making the most busted crunchy math-based builds possible, but Baldurs Gate 3 to me just isn't a game I can sit down and have Fun(TM) relaxing and playing.

It's a game that I feel absolutely missed the forest for the trees.

So anyways, essay complete. I've only slept like 6 hours total in the last three days so a lot of this may or may not even make sense. But on so much sleep deprivation finishing this game and realizing I was just frustrated with it instead of actually feeling accomplished for having finished it, it was the final straw and I just needed to get the thoughts down somewhere

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk

#it's 6am I still haven't slept (thanks work and insomnia) and I may delete this tomorrow #I'm probably being unreasonable with my frustrations but they have frustrated me nonetheless #and it's my blog so no one can stop me from going on a silly little videogame rant #anyway thanks for listening yall

[reds-fluff-extravaganza]

LOOK, I don't know if this is gonna make sense, but it's cute to me, so here ya go just in case u like it

Glitchy Red x a Reader who's now trapped in the game after releasing him. Like, once they both were finally besties and Reader managed to help him... Now the tables have turned

So now it's time for our baby boy to help his friend >:3

I mean, he already has the knowledge, and now he also has the power since he's free, so I doubt it would be too difficult for him to save his friend (and possible love interest but that's another story-)

Btw this isn't supposed to be connected to my other Glitchy request, just saying in, just in case uwu

Finally, I don't have a pokemon quote but... Puns about Cubone are usually humerus (ba dum tsss)

- Fairy Anon 🧚🏻‍♀️

I am living for these requests, thank you. Also I hope this is okay/makes some sense

"Alright, Glitchy Red, are you ready to give this a try?"

"I'm ready when you are, Y/n." You nodded as you set your gameboy to the side. Ever since you received Glitchy Red's cartridge from a nearby game store which sold older games, and finding out about him and his past, you were determined to help him. Glitchy Red was unsure about this at first, considering he did not exactly trust you and had initially thought you were going to throw his cartridge away or give it up to someone else. However, when you did not do any of those things, he was actually quite relieved, and hopeful that you were going to help him like you had promised.

After two years of searching for answers, you two were pretty close to giving up, until you ended up finding a possible solution. You didn't want to get your hopes up too quickly, but you had written it down in a journal in your room, as well as saving the site you had gotten the information from, as a just in case it did actually work and you needed it again for whatever reason. How this person had an idea of what you were attempting, not even you knew. Hey, you can't be too careful. Now you two were going to give it a try, hoping that it would work.

"I hope this works..." You mumbled as you attempted a sequence of button presses and a few other things as you read the words you had written down on your journal. Once you were done, you looked back down at the screen of the gameboy to see if anything had changed.

"Anything?" You asked. Glitchy Red looked around, seeing no changes.

"No, nothing yet. Maybe we need to wait?"

"Oh, sure, let's give it a moment." You waited for a few moments to a few minutes, but still nothing.

"Damn, I really thought we were onto something there." You sighed softly, crossing your arms.

"I guess it's back to the drawing board- wait what is that?" You noticed the screen of the gameboy was glowing more so than usual, which was odd since this required the use of a flashlight to actually see the screen.

"I have no idea what you're seeing, but I feel... different, I can't explain it." Before you could say anything else, the whole room was filled with the same white light, causing you to shield your eyes. When you uncovered your eyes, however, you found yourself... not in your bedroom.

"Where the hell am I?" You rubbed your eyes, looking around the area, which looked rather familiar to you. It then hit you: where was Glitchy Red? "Glitchy Red?!" You suddenly called out, looking for your friend in a bit of a panic.

"Y/n?" You heard him, but you couldn't see him. That is, until you looked up towards the "sky" only to find that your little experiment worked!... sort of.

"Hey, you're finally out of the game!"

"That may be true, but now you're trapped inside." Glitchy Red sounded rather worried about this, not wanting you to be trapped inside the game like he had been.

"I... don't want you to be trapped in there because of me." He was thinking of the worst case scenarios, that you wouldn't be able to leave the game, that he would end up back in there with you, that-

"Red." He looked down at the screen. You only called him that when you were being serious or when you wanted to get his attention.

"Yes..?"

"Stop thinking like that. I'll get out of here, and I'm going to show you everything that I had promised to show you, and spend all the time with you that I possibly can! I got you out, didn't I?"

"Well, yeah, but now you're in the game."

"So? Now that we've figured out how to get you out, if we just do it again, then I should get out too!"

"and if we end up in this situation again? But I'm back in the game and we're back in our original situation?"

"Then we'll keep searching! We will keep looking until we're both out out there, together." Glitchy Red chuckled a bit, shaking his head.

"Alright, I trust you."

"Great! Now let me out of here! Look for my journal, I have it written in there." He nodded and looked around your room, which he had seen parts of here and there from when you carried your gameboy around to show him around. He looks around and finds your journal on the floor and picks it up.

"Alright, let's give this another try." You waited patiently as Glitchy Red input the button combination and other things you had done to get him out. Once he finished, he set the journal and gameboy down, waiting. After a few minutes of waiting, the bright white light filled the room once more, causing both of you to cover your eyes. After the light faded, you uncovered your eyes to find yourself back in your room, with Glitchy Red beside you.

"Y/n?" You heard him say before uncovering his eyes, which you couldn't really see from the shadow of his hat. You smiled and pulled him into a hug, which caused him to flinch in response as you had caught him off guard.

"I... I can't believe it worked." Glitchy Red hugged you back, a faint smile on his face.

"I'm glad it worked." You nodded in agreement, the two of you not letting go from the hug. You knew you would be like this for a while, but you didn't mind. You were happy that Glitchy Red was now out of the game and here with you, and vice versa.

#pokemon creepypasta #pokemon creepypastas #pokepasta #pokepastas #sfw #anonymous #glitchy red #pokemon creepypasta glitchy red #pokepasta glitchy red #glitchy red pokepasta #glitchy red/reader #glitchy red x reader #x reader #reader insert #fluff #fluff oneshot #x reader oneshot #oneshot

[hollowistheworld]

Flies

Day 2 of IBWeek 2023, hosted by @the-bureaucracts-are-everything

Also on AO3

They’re admiring Gabriel’s statue again, and that’s how Beelzebub knows they’re absolutely fucked. It shouldn’t have been endearing, watching Gabriel stare lovingly at a statue of himself. But unfortunately for Beelzebub, Gabriel was no longer capable of doing anything that wasn’t endearing. Everything was their song miracled onto the jukebox, Gabriel buying them human consumables so they wouldn’t draw too much attention, Gabriel letting his gifted fly out of its matchbox just to smile at it and listen to the buzz of its wings. 

Beelzebub had decided they didn’t care about the fraternizing, didn’t even care about pretending to come up for a reason for it, but this… They looked up at Gabriel’s statue, at the massive cross, the memories of the days of robes and ceremonies.

“How were we both more and less formal back then?” Beelzebub asks.  

"Hmm? Oh. I…” 

And Beelzebub misses the next bit of Gabriel’s blustering, because they’d looked over just in time to see Gabriel look up at the statue - meaning he hadn’t been looking at it all along. It had looked, instead, for just a moment, like he’d been looking at Beelzebub. 

And Beelzebub isn’t quite ready to think about all the implications of that, so they tune back in just in time to catch Gabriel saying, “I don’t miss the robes though. Suits suit me far better.” He chuckles and repeats, “Suits suit me better. That’s good. Didn’t even mean to.” 

Beelzebub, with barely any attempt at restraint, smiles. He is funny. Not that obnoxious excuse for funny that one usually gets with angels, where they pretend they don’t realize they’re rubbing the Fall in their demonic audience’s faces. Actually funny. And genuine. 

And… sweet. Gabriel is sweet, which would have been an unimaginable description of him a few years ago. But back then Gabriel had been more of an idea than another living being. Just Beelzebub’s counterpart Upstairs, the one they’d butted heads against a few times over the millennia, the one they'd be squaring off against once the War finally got rolling.

Now Beelzebub would rather take a massive demotion and spend the rest of their eternal existence in the worst of Hell’s pits than play that particular story out. 

Because they’re fucked. Because they’re standing here in a graveyard, looking at a statue of the Supreme Archangel Gabriel while standing next to the actual Supreme Archangel Gabriel, because there’s nowhere else they’d rather be than wherever Gabriel feels like being. Fuck that, there’s nowhere else they even like being anymore. 

“Are there any statues of you out there?” Gabriel asks. 

Beelzebub shrugs, and makes an effort to not preen too obviously at being asked. “None that bear such a good likeness. Mortals like to emphasize the horns and scales and things when they make representations of demons. They are meant to be afraid of us after all.” 

Gabriel looks down at them with a sort of frown. He has an odd way of frowning, Beelzebub has noticed, as though he’s trying to convince you he’s smiling at the same time. Probably wasn’t really allowed to frown in Heaven, same as you could never look too happy in Hell. “Right,” he says. “Demonic attributes. You have more than just the flies?” 

…Right. They’ve only ever met up on Earth, where boils on the skin or rotting teeth might cause a panic. “Plenty more. I’m the Grand Duke of Hell. I can’t look mortal. We aren’t like you lot, where we can brag about being made in God’s image.” They sneer a little, but with far less bite than there’d been the first few times they’d had conversations like this. It all feels so natural now. They're not so different, at the end of it all. Not in ways that matter. 

Gabriel turns his back on his statue. “May I see?” 

Beelzebub stares at him. “…Why?” 

“That’s what you really look like, isn’t it? I’d like to see your real face.” 

They’re doing it again. Taking a step they aren’t supposed to, heading toward another place they won’t be able to come back from. The first had been when they’d simply agreed they’d meet again soon, no pretext provided, and the steps have been coming faster and faster ever since. This is the most dangerous thing Beelzebub has done since the original rebellion, all those thousands of years ago. But unlike then, when Beelzebub had looked up at God’s place above them and braced themself for the brutal consequences they knew were coming, there’s no real fear. Just the awareness that they’re about to do something just as reckless and dangerous as the Fall had been. 

Beelzebub is pretty sure this fall is going to be worth it. 

They’re still caught off guard every time they move closer to it though. This isn’t what demons do. This isn’t what angels do. But when Crowley and his angel had canceled Armageddon, they’d messed up a lot more than just the Great Plan. 

It occurs to Beelzebub they may have to come up with some reason to cut Crowley loose and take him off hell’s shit list. They have enough decency to at least recognize when they owe someone, and it would seem they owe Crowley a lot. 

“Alright,” Beelzebub agrees, and Gabriel smiles. 

It’s been a long time since they’ve been on Earth without disguises. Humans aren’t so easy to terrorize or impress as they used to be, and even Hell’s Grand Duke has to deal with an obnoxious amount of paperwork to get a new body if the old one gets burned at the stake or stoned to death. Beelzebub takes off their hat and twists their neck, stretches their shoulders, feels the pop in the back of their ribs. Their flies begin to buzz. They can see when the noise reaches the world - Gabriel tips his head and smiles wider.

The night grows a little darker, the air thicker. Beelzebub feels their skin shift and snap, the left side of their mouth pulling up, their teeth sharpening and elongating and filling up their mouth. Flies crawl over their tongue and out of their mouth, burst out of freshly formed pustules on their skin. 

And then they’re fully demonic; surrounded by flies, their skin rotting off in patches, boils sprawling across their face. They’ve even exposed their wings - a rare thing to bother with, but if they’re showing off, they’re going to do it all the way. 

Beelzebub’s wings have changed over the years, no longer the soft feathers God had once given them all. Now they’re stretched thin, transparent, like feathers made of fly wings. Beelzebub unfurls them, lets them catch the light Gabriel summoned and throw twisted shadows on the surrounding tombstones. 

This is one of those things a demon shouldn’t be doing. It’s been a good few centuries since you could just wander around with all the evidence of your crimes against God on your face for anyone to see. They put regulations in for this. To intentionally not pass yourself off as a human was to declare yourself to have bad intentions, and that meant any nearby angels had free reign to slam down with all the holy power they could muster. 

And here’s Lord Beelzebub themself, in front of Supreme Archangel Gabriel, making sure there’s no question about exactly what they are. And not only is there no fear, Beelzebub doesn’t even feel the need to be challenging about it. They feel no need to brace themself, to meet Gabriel’s eyes and dare him to turn away in disgust. 

And Gabriel doesn’t. His eyes are glowing violet and his own wings blur into existence, and the two of them are spotlighted, their wings catching and throwing the light at each other. The rest of Earth seems to have disappeared and it’s just them now, in all of existence. 

Gabriel reaches out one hand and flies swirl around his wrist as he cups his palm against Beelzebub’s cheek, his thumb running gently along a patch of rot. “You’re stunning,” he says softly. 

And it isn’t… Beelzebub has never been insecure about their appearance. They’re intimidating and horrifying and know how to put on a disguise (which is more than can be said for at least half of their people) and that’s what being a demon is all about. They’re proud, if anything. And they certainly aren’t wondering about humans or angels finding them attractive. 

But once, a long, long time ago, Beelzebub was an angel. They had once crowded at God’s feet and shouted with delight as the universe formed around them. That had been stunning. Beings who had been present at the birth of everything didn’t use words like stunning and awe-inspiring lightly. 

They lean into Gabriel’s touch, feeling a smile on their mouth they hadn’t thought about making. It’s like a small miracle in its own right, how often that happens around Gabriel. As though a smile is the expression that belongs on their face, not a snarl or the slack-jaw of boredom. 

“You’re rather nice on the eyes yourself,” Beelzebub returns. “I like purple.” 

Gabriel’s smile gets a little smugger and Beelzebub laughs. Gabriel’s free hand falls to their shoulder and his fingers slip into the tangle of their hair. “Your laugh is the most beautiful sound in the universe,” he says. 

Beelzebub remembers the singing of the morning stars, remembers how lovely God’s voice had sounded, back in the beginning, before everything had gone - quite literally - to Hell. Remembers sounds so beautiful you could cry at the way they filled you up. 

And not one of those sounds compares to Gabriel’s voice right now. “I could stay like this for eternity,” Beelzebub says, voice quiet, carried up by the buzzing of their flies. 

“Me too,” Gabriel replies, and he bends forward, touching their foreheads together. 

It isn’t eternity, in the end, because they don’t have that luxury. It isn’t even hours, because these meetings are crowded into their already busy schedules, around complaints and demands and paperwork and battles that just don’t feel worth fighting any longer. They drop their disguises back into place and the night feels grayer for it. They squeeze each other’s hands and hold on longer than is necessary, even as they pull away. 

“See you soon,” Gabriel says, stepping away like it pains him. 

“As soon as possible,” Beelzebub returns. 

It won’t be soon enough. It never is anymore. 

#IBweek2023 #ineffable bureaucracy #gabriel x beelzebub #beelzebub #good omens #good omens gabriel #my writing

[awhphooey]

Summary of everything we’re allowed to know about the separated au 👉👈?

Also what is Leo’s relationship with Hueso and how does it differ from the series? What about Hueso jr 👀?

Ok so this post is gonna be long it’s basically: really brief summary, second half of the ask, then a more in depth summary with no spoilers.

First Question: The boys are separated after Lou rescues them from Draxum’s lab, found by Hueso, April, the Foot and Big Mama. They’re all raised apart and end up meeting. Splinter agrees to help them defeat the Shredder. They beat him, become a little crime fighting team, then the Krang stuff happens.

Second Question: Leo sees Hueso as his father and Hueso sees Leo as his son. Honestly their banter is very punny vs dry humor like in canon, but everything else I am actively making up as I go. Just know that they are father and son and Hueso would die for Leo. Hueso Jr is now Piel’s son who does not have a name, but is Leo’s cousin.

Long Summary time-

Draxum kidnaps Lou Jitsu, who was previously in the Battle Nexus as Big Mama’s champion. The turtles get mutated with his DNA like usual, Raph gets dropped first just outside Draxum’s now exploded lab, and on his way out of the Hidden City Lou drops Leo. Mikey gets dropped just outside of where he exits, but Lou is barely able to pay attention now as he is very painfully being turned into a rat. Donnie is the last one to be dropped, near the O’Neil’s apartment complex. Lou ends up retreating to the sewers with a few other mutants Draxum was experimenting on, most notably my version of Leatherhead.

Donatello “Donnie” Franklin O’Neil is 14 when the au starts. Donnie is the first to actually be found, despite being the last to be dropped. April finds him on a walk outside and begs her parents to let her keep him. He’s raised alongside April as her brother once they realize he can speak and is growing at the same rate if not faster than April. He goes to school like a normal kid, they just tell everyone he’s got a skin disease and that’s why he is green. He’s not able to make all of his tech, and isn’t trained at all like the other three, which leaves him vulnerable.

Galileo “Leo” Hueso is 14 when the au starts. Leo is the next to be found by Hueso (who is named Eric in this after his VA, full name Eric Hueso) who takes him back to his pirate ship. He’s part of a crew with his brother and a few others. They all work together to raise Leo, but Leo is closest with Eric and they have a father-son bond. Leo’s first few years- about until he is 11- are spent on the pirate ship. Once his dad becomes an outlaw in the Hidden City they move to the surface and open Run of the Mill Pizza, which caters to both yokai and humans. I can elaborate on this if anyone wants. Leo becomes a vigilante in his free time.

“Big” Red aka Raphael Hamato is 15 when the au takes place. He’s found by Big Mama’s right hand who was sent to retrieve Lou Jitsu. Instead, they find Red and bring him back to Big Mama. Insert plot device so she’s aware Lou Jitsu’s DNA is in Red and she starts raising him as her and Lou’s son. Raph is the only one aware Splinter is their dad. He starts training for the Battle Nexus when he’s 10, first fight at 12 where he gets his scar and nickname, remains the Nexus Champion until [spoilers].

Michael “Mikey” Angelo Jones is 13 at the start of the au. Mikey is the last to be found by his uncles, Rob and Maurice, who are having troubles training their next recruits. They start training Mikey in the mindset of him being their weapon, but as soon as they adopt Casey as well they start treating the two more like family. Mikey isn’t super devoted to the Foot, as he feels a bit of disconnect from them. He’s unlocked his nimpo, but his family just think it’s something mutant related.

I can’t explain anything further into the plot because I really want to draw this stuff, but the Shredder, Big Mama and the Krang will be their biggest problems. Draxum is against them briefly, but far less than in the show.

#ask phooey #rottmnt au #rottmnt #rise separated au #rise separated au ask