#it's been a while since I worked in this sort of “slap colors on a sketch and scribble over the top of everything” style

[kaenith]

Sometimes (a lot of the time) I draw just because I want to throw colorrrssss at things

#my art #pokemon #ponyta #fanart #it's been a while since I worked in this sort of “slap colors on a sketch and scribble over the top of everything” style #I missed it!

[fleur-bbyy]

late night rendezvous /// katsuki bakugo

rating: 18+. minors dni.

word count: 4k+

warnings: smut, daddy kink, breeding kink, degrading, use of pet names, characters aged up to 20’s, college!au, quirkless!au, sex without condom (wrap it up), use of birth control, tummy bulges, alcohol use, afab reader, pussy and cunt are used to describe reader’s parts, kind of rough katsuki, color-coded texting used. pink is mina, orange is bakugo, red is kirishima.

this is my first time writing smut, take it easy on my fragile feelings :’) i’m trying to work on having my writing flow so bear with me.

we hit the highway 1-5-5 with my whole foot on the dash, she’s in my ear, she’s got no fear, she could care less if we crash.

“too lanky.” swipe

“all of his pictures have girls in them.” swipe.

“he’s definitely lying about being of age.” swipe.

“mina, why did you even have me download the damn app if all the guys on here don’t have your seal of approval?”

“you’re thinking too negatively! you just have persist and find that hidden gem!” you don’t know how your roommate convinced you download tinder. you guys always had a midweek dinner together, just making sure you stay caught up with each other due to your busy schedules. after a few too many glasses of wine, you had confessed to her that you hadn’t been properly dicked in a few months. the thought of going without good sex horrified your pink-haired friend and she was practically on her knees begging your to download some sort of dating/hookup app.

“mina i don’t think this was a good idea. either none of them fit your ‘good hookup’ standards or they don’t fit mine.” you threw your phone down in defeat.

“oh c’mon! you just ha-“

“if you tell me i have to look a little longer i’ll rip your tongue out and slap you with it.” you said, cutting her sentence off. she slowly closed her mouth and looked at the ground in thought. twiddling her thumbs as she did so. your own mind drifted away in thought until she suddenly jolted up off the couch.

“bakugo!” she yelled whilst jumping up and down like a cartoon character.

“huh?”

“oh c’mon! i know you’ve always thought he was attractive! your face turns that tomato red color every time you see him! plus, he’s been single for a while and I really think you two would look good together!” you looked up at her with a dumbfounded expression, blinking slowly.

“bakugo? as in katsuki bakugo? as in katsuki ‘stares daggers at anybody who isn’t you or his close friends’ bakugo?” you slowed down each word spoken as if it would sink into the pinkette’s head. you could admit that he was pretty attractive, but you and katsuki had only had a few interactions, none of them giving off “perfect hookup” vibes. in fact, the only vibes he gave off were “i hate your guys” vibes. each time it was when mina had the friend group over and you happened to either come in late or leave your room for something. she always invited you to join, but you always declined. never wanting to intrude on the little group that’s been inseparable since high school.

“i promise, babes, he’s actually super sweet in his own scary kind of way! you have to get to know him,” she grabbed you by your shoulders, “let me text kiri and see if he thinks bakugo would be down!” before you could express any disinterest, mina had already skipped along over to her room to get her phone. you groaned and covered your head with a pillow as you slumped down onto your couch. contemplating the events of the last hour, wishing you hadn’t of taken mina’s offer to buy your favorite flavor of red.

you sat on the couch for a few more minutes before mina happily ran back into the room and tore the pillow from your face. she was practically shoving her phone in your face with the brightness all the way up.

“jesus, mina, are you trying to blind me?”

“oh get over it you baby. anywho, kiri said he thinks it’s a great idea, and he’s been trying to get bakugo out there again, so he’s gonna try to talk him into it!” she let out a little squeal as she shook her empty hand back and forth wearing the widest smile on her face.

“yay?” you replied, a little apprehensive, but also just trying to fake some excitement.

“don’t sound too happy, babes, you’ll piss your pants in enthusiasm.” her voice dripped with sarcasm and she narrowed her eyes at you.

“i’m sorry, meens, i’m just nervous! your friends are scary and you’re trying to set me up with the scariest one!” you thought about the times you’ve encountered her friend group. all of them (excluding bakugo) had always been super friendly and inviting towards you and even encouraged you to join them if mina tried inviting you to hang out. the sheer size of all of them intimidated you the most, all of them towering over you and most of them were built from years of weight training. kirishima was the biggest, with huge muscles that always seemed to be flexed, even if he was relaxing. bakugo coming in a close second. the difference between the two was kirishima was always outgoing and friendly and bakugo was…

well, he was just not.

it seemed like he always made a point to glare at you. barely ever speaking a word if you happened to come across him in the kitchen or in the hall where the bathroom was. only brushing your shoulder as he walked past you or muttering a “tch.” if you accidentally bumped into him, even if it was his fault you two collided.

that’s why you were shocked when kirishima told mina he had actually talked bakugo into hanging out at your apartment with you.

just the two of you alone.

alone.

the thought loomed over your head for the next week. you didn’t know why you were so nervous. it’s not like it was that serious or you actually wanted it to work out. it was just simply hanging out to watch a movie or two. it’s not like you admired his toned body every time you bumped into him in your little apartment, taking in the way he smelt sweet like burnt sugar.

watching the way his shirt would lift when he grabbed something from the top of the pantry and you got to peek at his toned stomach and the little v-line that disappeared in his sweats.

the way his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.

you definitely didn’t see him in that way.

when the night finally came, you were a nervous wreck. you tried to hide how nervous you were, but mina saw right through your little facade.

“you are going to be absolutely fine. if you need anything, i’m turning my phone off do not disturb for you, so don’t be afraid to call or text.” she lightly applied some makeup to your face, just enough to enhance your features. she dressed you in a tennis skirt and a tight graphic crop top. not too unusual for stuff you’d usually wear out, but not something her friends had ever seen you in.

“don’t make me feel too special now. you never turn your phone off DND for anybody.” she stretched the skin around your left eye to apply some eyeliner.

“you know I love you babes. you’re my best freaking friend! now shut the fuck up so I don’t mess this up.” she swatted at you and you tried your best to contain your laughter as she finished up. afterwards, the two of you couldn’t contain your fits of giggles.

before she left the apartment, she stuffed some condoms into the drawer on the side table. “just in case” she told you. she reassured you once more that you looked amazing and that the date would go fine.

date. a little word currently giving you so much anxiety. you made your way to your smaller couch closer to the door to wait on bakugo and try to clear some of the negativity from your head.

a few minutes after she left, you heard a slightly aggressive knock on your door. before opening it, you smoothed out any wrinkles in your skirt and admired yourself in the small mirror you kept hanging near the door. a second, more aggressive, knock scared you out of your trance and you finally gripped the knob and opened the door.

bakugo was leaning against the railing across from your door and you had to admit, this man looked damn fine.

he wore a simple outfit. black jeans, white tee, and a black bomber jacket. his undercut looked as if he gelled it to look more uniform, a gesture that made your heart flutter. an outfit like this usually wouldn’t affect you much, but knowing that a man with a body that looked like it was carved by michelangelo himself was wearing it made your core buzz to life.

“hey.” you said, trying to not sound as desperate for him as you felt and gesturing for him to come inside.

“hey.” he replied dryly, pushing past your body to come inside. this time though, his hands found your waist as he moved you aside so he could fit in the doorframe. any doubts you had about maybe wanting to take your chance and fuck this man melted away. any denial about your blossoming feelings for the man also gone. you became a woman determined to get in the blonde’s pants.

you shut and locked your door and quickly told him to make himself at home and gave him the remote to pick the movie. his fingers lingered on your hand a little longer than they should’ve.

“d’ya want a drink?” you asked, making your way to your small kitchen and pulling out the ingredients to make yourself one. hoping some liquid courage would calm your nerves and be a good excuse in case bakugo didn’t reciprocate your feelings.

“yeah you can whip somethin’ up for me. kirishima told me that mina said you have some bartendin’ experience.” he looked over his shoulder at you and flashed you a smirk. there was no doubt about it, this man was confident.

“that i do,” you smiled back at him, “so you’ve been asking about me, eh?” you joked, pouring together various liquids. so far, you were finding it relatively easy to converse with the blonde on your couch. mentally cursing yourself for having to admit that mina was right about him.

you decided to make yourself a simple mixture of pink whitney and lemonade. you made him a whiskey sour, remembering mina asking you to make one real quick after he and his last girlfriend had broken up and the group was due to come at any minute to cheer him up. she told you it was his favorite.

“how’d you know, huh?” he asked as you handed him the glass.

“i have my ways, besides, a magician never reveals her secrets.” you gave him a wink as you sat next to him on the couch. he had picked some netflix show that you never got the name of, mainly because as the night went on and the drinks kept coming, you found each other engrossed in conversation. hopping from one subject to the next and finding out you have a lot of similar interests. eventually, his jacket came off and was draped over the back of the couch. leaving his toned, muscular arms on display and ready to be eyefucked by you.

“no way! i would’ve never pegged you as a drummer!”

“believe it, sweets. what? pinky never told you?” the hand he had tracing circles on your exposed thigh did not go unnoticed. neither did the pet name. you’ve been practically drilling since you sat down next to him. unsure of if you’re actually this attracted towards him or just severely depraved of any action.

“truth be told, she never goes into too much detail about you. probably because you terrify me.” he furrowed his perfect brows at you.

“terrify you?” his hand moved up your thigh some more, your core that had ached since the moment he stepped in your house now screaming for something, anything. a damp patch starting to grow on your panties.

“oh come on, there’s no way you don’t recognize how intimidating you can be. especially since you’re a huge guy,” you gripped his bicep to try to and show him what you’re talking about, but you also just wanted an excuse to touch him. you didn’t miss the way the corners of his lips turned into a smile or that his hand had moved to your waist, “plus, you’re always staring at me in such a mean looking way. could’ve had me convinced that you hate me.”

“hate you?” he started to lean in.

“yeah.” you leaned in to him too.

“‘m not sure if it’s just the alcohol talking, but i’m more than willing to show you just how big of a guy i am. i’ll show you i don’t hate you, just thought you were so fuckin’ sexy and didn’t know how to tell you.” the two of you were as close to each others faces that you could be without physically touching. your breaths fanning over his face and his to yours. his breath smelled like spearmint gum mixed with liquor.

“it’s definitely not the alcohol talking for me, wanted you since the moment you walked in.” and with that you finally closed the gap. making out with the huge blonde in the middle of your living room. hands running up and down each others bodies. yours making themselves at home in his blonde locks and his moving between groping your tits and ass, the movements making you moan into his mouth. suddenly, he pulled himself back. you gave bakugo a confused look.

“should we talk about this first? we’re both not completely there, y’know.” it startled you when he pulled away. it startled you even more when the caring words left his mouth. the gesture of wanting to make sure you weren’t taking advantage of each other while you both had alcohol in your system making you melt into his hands.

“no. i know i wan’ you, plus, im beginning to sober up.” you dove back in, but this time your lips found comfort in his neck. leaving soft kisses and nips on his sensitive skin while he tried to suppress the groans threatening to erupt from his chest. your hands found the hem of his shirt and started tugging it up. he took the hint and pulled his shirt off and throwing in behind the couch. letting you see his chest in all of its glory. any qualms the two of you may of had seemingly disappearing once his shirt was gone. he had a few blonde hairs on his chest and beautiful, tanned skin. his abs could compare to any body builder.

“y’know starin’s fuckin’s rude right, angel?” he grabbed your wrists and brought them to his chest. letting your fingers roam his nude upper half. you pinched and squeezed at his body, paying some extra attention to his nipples. the feeling of you touching his body was already becoming too much and a groan finally escaped his lips. “stop fuckin’ teasin’ me and lemme take your shirt off.”

you removed yourself from his chest and raised your arms, allowing him to take off your top. he moved his fingers slowly, delicately as if he were trying to give himself a show and savor every bit of your skin that was revealed as he pulled your shirt up. he was surprised to see that you had foregone a bra.

“such a dirty fuckin’ slut. so desperate for cock that you couldn’t even keep yourself decent.” he squeezed at your chest and took one of your nipples in his mouth. his wet tongue running circles over it again and again. he drank up the moans that left your mouth and you arched your back, making your chest press into him more and threw your head back.

“fuck bakugo!” you yelped out. you unconsciously started grinding your hips down onto his growing bulge. the arousal starting to leak through your panties and leaving a damp patch on the dark denim of his jeans. he moaned around your nipple at the contact, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight down to your core.

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty y’know that?” he said as he released your nipple from his mouth, replacing it with his hands once more. his hands were rough and calloused, but felt oh so good on your aching body. “i would’ve gotten you outta your clothes ages ago if i knew how desperate you needed it.”

“oh yeah?” you said, breathlessly, “then show me how pretty you think i am.” katsuki’s stubbornness came to your advantage when you challenged him. you knew from nights where him and the group would play mario kart on your tv that he wasn’t one to back down and he certainly wasn’t one to lose. he finally let his hand slide under your skirt on grab ahold of your perfect peachy ass.

you kept your body moving back and forth on his. one of his hands rested lazily on your hip while the other gripped at your ass and moved you at an almost impossible pace on him. he removed the hand that was kneading your ass and moved it to your aching clit. using some of his fingers to push your panties to the side and using another to run his finger up and down your soaked slit whilst you still continued grinding into him. he let you coat his finger before bringing it back up to eye level.

“look at how fuckin’ wet you are f’me.” he twisted his finger to let the slickness catch the light. the tip of the finger started to prune because of the wetness. you were already started to approach orgasm from the rough grinding, but the sight of him admiring your arousal on his finger sped the process up. your hips starting to move even faster against him and he placed the finger in his mouth. moving his tongue up and down in a dramatic showcase just for you. slurping up any of your juices that dared to drip from his index with a wicked grin on his face.

the sight of him in combination with the rough grinding on your clit was enough to make the coil inside your stomach unravel. the pressure that had been steadily building for so long finally had you releasing a clear liquid all over his now ruined jeans. you threw your head into his shoulder as your body shook from such an intense orgasm. bakugo moving his hand down to rub you clit through your panties as you released a few more spurts of liquid.

“fuck, you just squirt f’me? just from some dry humpin’? you really are such a desperate slut.” he turned his head to whisper in your ear and his words made you start to gush again. he pushed your thighs back to give him some room to unbutton his pants and free his achingly hard cock from its confines. you had to admit, everything about him really was big. he wasn’t as long as some that you’ve had before, but boy was he thick. you eyed the vein the ran under his cock and his angry, red tip with a pearl of pre just waiting for you to suck.

you started to make your way out of his lap and down to the floor, but he grabbed your thighs and settled you back where you were resting before.

“you don’t want me to give you head?” you asked, quizzically.

“no, just fuckin’ need to get inside you.” he pushed your panties to the side once more.

“but baku-“

“don’t fuckin’ call me that after you squirted all over me. just call me katsuki.” you took ahold of your panties as he ran his cock up and down your wetness, lubing himself up. he lined himself up with your slippery entrance and grabbed your hips to keep you from slamming down onto him, you wanted this just as much as he did and you practically cried trying to throw yourself down onto him.

“please fuck me katsuki!” your eyes started filling with frustrated tears as you wiggled. your hips over him, trying to get some friction.

“you’re gonna have to try harder than that, angel.” he gave you a devilish smirk and raised his hand to wipe some of the tears that dripped from your lashes.

you were desperate and willing to pull out all the stops to get what you wanted.

“fuck me daddy please i need you so fucking badly.” you didn’t even comprehend the words you were saying, so hellbent on getting him inside you. you watched his ruby eyes somehow darken even more with ravenous arousal.

“say that shit again.”

“fuck me daddy?” you said in a more confused than begging tone. the grip he had on your hips was so tight you were sure bruises would be left as he thrusted into your warm and inviting walls. the stretch of having him was so deliciously good that you either didn’t have any pain or it was easily overlooked. one of his hands found his face as he laid his head back on the couch. the sight of your tits bouncing as you fucked yourself down on him was almost too hot to handle.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a sloppy kiss and you roughly bounced up and down on his length. your tongues dancing together and his thighs beginning to flex from the pleasure of having you on him.

“fuck yeah baby uh throw that ass back on me. wish i could fuckin’ see it. fuck this cock shit fuckin’ use my body.” a harsh slap landed on your ass as he hiked your skirt up around your waist. making sure nothing could impede his perfect view. he loved watching his cock appear and disappear in in your tight folds. he used on his hands to spread your lips apart and get a good look at your glistening clit, the sight making him audibly groan. the lewd moans leaving your lips were loud enough for the neighbors to start pounding their fists on the other side of the wall.

“ignore them. jus’ wanna fuck you.” you said, voice barely above a whisper and tainted by strings of moans that kept leaving your body. his hips had now started to snap upwards into you. every time you bounced down on him, he fucked upwards causing his cock to reach impossibly deep in you. he put one of his hands over your belly and almost came just from the feeling of being able to feel himself deep in your guts.

“look at the way this pussy just sucks me in, you fuckin’ love it… you love the way i fuck this sweet pussy.. shit shit shit.” katsuki’s words shooting straight to your throbbing cunt and making you ride him and an impossible pace. the sound of skin slapping and the squelching of your juices fills your apartment and echos off the walls. your moans and his rough grunts somehow making the two of you even hornier. just two college kids with sex hormones going insane.

you really lost it when he leaned over and let a fat amount of spit slide off his tongue and onto the base of his cock before you slid down on him again. the added lube helping bring you closer to your second orgasm of the night. your pussy fluttering and clenching down on him.

“fuck, you’re close aren’cha? wanna cum on this cock? i wanna know what it feels like to have you cum around me.” his words causing the familiar burning sensation in your stomach to come back for a second time. one of his hands come down to roughly rub your clit and your nails start to dig into the junction where his neck and shoulders meet. sweat was causing his blonde hairs to stick to his forehead and his abs glisten.

“fuck yes mark me baby. wan’ everyone to know i’m fuckin’ yours.” his thumb rubbed your swollen clit at what felt like a near impossible pace and you know you were close to snapping once more.

“god fuck me daddy… fuck me daddy… fuck me daddy i need to cum around your cock! i need to feel you fill me up!” for the second time this night his eyes filled with carnal desire as he started relentlessly fucking into you once more. babbling in his pussy drunk state about how good you feel around him and how good he’s gonna fill you. words fall on deaf ears as your second orgasm overtakes you so hard that white flashes over your eyes and squeal at a deafening pitch. you grip his blonde locks as your long awaited release leaks down his thighs and onto the couch.

“that’s it baby. paint this cock with your cum. fuck i don’ know if i can last much longer.”

“jus’ fucking cum for me katsuki please, i need it so bad daddy please. god… fuck!” his pace never faltered, even though your pussy tried to force him out as you came. he just kept fucking up into you, desperate to let go.

“fuck fuck baby m’ gonna cum, gonna fill you up so fuckin’ good baby. take it fuckin’ take it all…. you on birth control? he whined in your ear as you laid your head on his shoulder completely fucked out. you managed to lift up a bit just to nod your head yes to his question. with your granted permission, his hips started to slightly falter and with a few more rough thrusts, he released his hot seed into your abused cunt. he threw his head back in ecstasy as he came so much it spilled out of you. you threw your hips onto him a few more times before he had to grab you to stop.

“fuckin’ hell angel are you tryin’ to kill me?” he said through breathless pants, shooting a tired smile at you. you smiled back at him with hazy eyes. it was clear you were both exhausted from the nights activities. in the room’s quietness, you heard him chuckle.

“what’s so funny hot-shot?” you looked up at him, confused.

“the screen, ain’t that fuckin’ classic.” he started laughing again as you turned over your shoulder to see netflix’s “are you still watching?” screen light up your living room. you couldn’t help laughing a bit too. after the laughing had ceased, the two of you remained in an embrace as he gently lifted you up and slid his now soft cock out of you.

he stroked your hair as you started to let sleep overtake you. bakugo didn’t mind. he thought your tired/fucked-out face was the most adorable sight to see.

“mmm ‘night katsuki.” your words came out slurred because of your sleepiness.

“g’night baby.” he heard you start to lightly snore against his chest. he continued petting your hair and rubbing your back, content with having you rest atop him. mina wasn’t supposed to come back until morning, so he didn’t have to worried about you guys getting caught naked with his limp dick still out.

he played on his phone for about ten minutes until he felt it vibrate. he looked at the top notification panel and saw it was his group message on snapchat that he sometimes dreaded being apart of. he slid open the chat and saw that it was kirishima that had texted.

hey man, how’s it goin between you 2?

it’s going fine. she’s sleeping right now.

well?

well what?

did you do it??????

are you fucking 12? just say sex.

is that a yes?

bakugo knew they knew the answer. they messed with denki the same way last time they knew he got laid. deciding to play into their little game, he pulled up the camera on snapchat while the group chat began to buzz to life as sero and kaminari also started typing. he angled the camera so none of your privates were seen, but enough so they got the point. he rested his large hand under your skirt and on your asscheek as he clicked the circular button to take the picture. neither of your faces visible, but his bare thighs and your bare back could be seen. he sent the picture and went back into the chat and started typing.

this answer your fucking question?

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[ckret2]

On chapter 30 of The Writer Uses Misleading Graphics To Trick You Into Looking At This Fic About Human Bill Being The Shack's Prisoner: Summerween part 2! Bill wheedles Mabel into helping him make a costume. Mabel wheedles Bill into spilling some of his preciously-guarded secret backstory. Ford is kind of in awe.

Also there's like 4.5 drawings in this chapter. They're all very silly drawings.

####

Bill wouldn't tell Mabel what his costume was—"I want to see who can guess it"—but all it needed was a brown bedsheet, a long red wig, cardboard (to be drawn upon), and flip-flop sandals.

The bedsheet was the easiest to acquire. Dipper's barely-worn brown sandals were just slightly too big for Bill but Mabel helped tie them on with yarn. the shack's cardboard supplies were still depleted from making Bill's triangle mask, but they could make do with paper and popsicle sticks. Mabel didn't have a red wig but she did have a blonde wig and red markers. Since Bill was, by his own reporting, terrible at drawing, Mabel offered to do the fancy artwork if Bill did the tedious task of recoloring the wig. He claimed he'd feel like a mortician putting makeup on a car wreck victim, but nevertheless accepted the deal, and they settled in around the living room table to get to work.

"So just a bunch of houses, right?" Mabel asked, starting on the first drawing.

"Ancient Greek-looking houses," Bill said. "So, marble and columns. Don't think too hard about the details—this is a 21st century American costume holiday, not a historical reenactment. You can slap columns on anything and call it 'Greek' and every human in town will buy it."

"Do ancient Greek houses have chimneys?"

"No," Bill said. "But adding one would be funny."

Mabel considered that, weighed up the value of historical accuracy against entertainment value, and decided giving one house a chimney would be funny. She gave the whole house a thick black outline in marker, and pulled out crayons in black, white, and whale blue to quickly add some light shading to the marble. 

Mabel didn't think she'd ever seen Bill focus so hard or so quietly on anything the way he did on coloring that old wig red. He was giving it more attention than he did his own hair: while his golden locks were a tangled, uncombed, soggy mass shoved dismissively over his shoulders, he was dying the cheap wig (and his fingertips) strand by plastic strand with the bright-eyed morbid fascination of a third grader studying a pack of ants as they disassembled a bird's corpse.

This was the longest she'd been around Bill without conversation—usually, you couldn't even walk into a room without him immediately chattering at you like the motion-activated animatronics at the Summerween store. It was hard to think around him. Bill didn't give you room to think.

What did Mabel think about Bill?

He was right, she was still mad about the mall. No—mad wasn't the right word—mad was his word—she was scared. She'd never really stopped being scared of him, if she was honest with herself. But everything he'd done that day, from tricking her into trapping herself to reminding her of almost dying, had just reinforced why she should fear him.

But. She thought he felt bad about it. And she didn't think she'd ever seen him feel bad about anything before.

Maybe that meant her experiment was working. Maybe he was changing. Yeah, he was still scary—but he was Bill Cipher, he had a lot of scariness to work through. He was moving in the right direction, and she wanted to encourage that.

He hadn't apologized for the mall; but, since he'd tried to make up for it at the time, and that was a sort of apologetic action, Mabel decided she could tentatively forgive him for that day—provided he continued to improve. Put him on forgiveness probation. And that meant they were on friendly speaking terms again.

Which was good, because the quiet was starting to get uncomfortable. She surveyed her art for something they could talk about.

After a couple of as-historically-accurate-as-she-could-imagine houses, Mabel had started varying up the designs by redesigning houses she could remember off the top of her head with columns and white marble. She'd made a stately marble Mystery Shack, and a columned-covered doppelgänger of the house with the terraced yard across the street at home, and then she'd decided to make a Greek-ish version of her own home. "Hey Bill. Have you ever seen my house?"

"In person? No. But it came up from time to time in you kids' dreams, so whether I've seen it depends on how accurate you think your dreams are," he said. "It has less plants and more windows in your brother's dreams than in yours."

Mildly disturbing answer, but not disturbing in the direction she'd expected. "What! You mean you haven't haunted our neighborhood or anything? I don't believe it."

"Do you think I spend all my time stalking random humans? Don't flatter yourself."

"Well, seeing it in dreams isn't good enough!" Mabel pulled over a blank paper. It was hours until trick-or-treaters showed up, they had a little time to waste. "I'll draw it!"

"Wow, really?" Bill looked up from his wig. "You're not worried about letting the big bad triangle see your house?"

"Come on! You already know where I live, right?"

Bill immediately rattled off, "1337 Fairview Drive, Piedmont, California, on the northeast side of the street where it's less hilly."

"Exactly—you creep. So who cares if you know what it looks like, too?"

A square, sky blue house with two stories and a triangular roof; a big living room window on the left, a covered door on the right, three windows on the second floor, and a chimney. Mabel had drawn her home plenty of times—but doing it for a friend (?) was different from doing it for a teacher or a librarian, and she put extra effort into the rose bushes under the living room window. She added her and Dipper's smiling faces in the upstairs windows and Waddles's face downstairs in the living room.

"Waddles sleeps in the kitchen, but he basically owns half the yard to wallow in. This is my room, and here's Dipper's—I get three windows, but Dipper has the biggest window and a bigger room, so it's fair, no matter what he says—"

"Oh, you two have separate rooms now?" Bill was leaning halfway around the table and craning his neck to see the image right side up.

"Uh, yeah? Since we were ten?"

Loftily, Bill said, "I don't know how you'd expect me to know that. You both still dream about sharing a room."

Mabel paused and tried to remember how often she dreamed about Dipper in his new room. Sometimes she woke and was still disoriented to find her bed in the middle of the room instead of against one wall with Dipper's on the other side. "Huh."

She added a few more details—the front steps, the gate, the shingles. (Bill watched nervously as she pulled out the gray crayon to color the driveway—but she didn't notice how it had been tampered with.) She talked about her home, and in turn Bill told her weird things, like that Dipper often dreamed of monsters coming out of the fridge. When she finished, she autographed her name with a star on the "i" in Pines, offered it over grandly, and said, "Here, you can keep this!"

Bill accepted it without the customary effusive gratitude with which one ought to accept a generously-gifted original artwork from a 13-year-old prodigy. "What am I gonna do with it?"

"That's your problem!"

"Fair enough!" He checked his leggings for pockets and, when he didn't find any, set the page on the table by his elbow. 

Offering accepted. As Bill resumed coloring his wig, Mabel picked up another piece of paper and got to work on the next columned house. "What does your house look like?"

Bill stopped dead, looked straight at her, and said, "My what?"

What was weird about the question? "Your house! Or whatever you lived in before you came here. You came from somewhere before you tried to invade Earth, right? You didn't just pop out of somebody's dream."

Bill laughed. "Yeah I did!"

"Bill."

"4500 years ago the construction workers of Egypt had a shared nightmare about the immense tombs they'd spent the last century building—"

"Biiiill."

"—and when they awoke they found the combined psychic energy of their terror had spawned a sleep paralysis demon more powerful than Ra! So then I ate their souls—"

"Seriously, Bill."

"I'm being so serious right now."

Mabel rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine! I get it. You're embarrassed." She shook her head and returned to coloring.

She felt the combined spiritual energy of hundreds of imaginary Egyptian construction workers beating down on her face from Bill's eye. Like a laser. "'Embarrassed'?"

"Because you don't have a house," Mabel said. "I think it's okay, you don't need to be embarrassed! I don't think you're a loser or anything. It's just kind of sad—"

Bill snatched up a blank piece of paper. "You want a house? Fine! I'll show you a house." He grabbed up an orange crayon, muttering, "It'll put your stupid overpriced shed in California to shame— Where's the ruler—?" Mabel tried not to grin.

For several minutes, he was perfectly silent. Mabel glanced over to see him coloring with three crayons at once, only for him to shove a hand in her face and snap, "No peeking."

Mabel got through two more drawings before Bill slapped down his paper over Mabel's. "There! How about that?!"

She looked at the drawing, which Bill had helpfully labeled "Party Central!" in red crayon. A great stone pyramid so dark brown it was nearly black, with bricks outlined in brilliant gold and molten orange and fiery red, and a sharp multicolored X hovering above it—

Mabel gave Bill a flat look. "This isn't your house, this is your Torture Temple."

"The what? Hey, is that really what people are calling it?! It's not the Torture Temple, it's the Fearamid!"

Despite herself, Mabel burst out laughing. "You named it the 'Fearamid'?!"

"It's a pyramid and humans fear it! It's genius. Portmanteaus make great names."

"What's a portmanteau."

"It's a word made from the unholy Frankensteinian fusion of two other words. Like getting 'electrocute' from 'electricity' and 'execute'!"

"Or 'romcom'?"

"Yeah, or that."

Mabel considered the drawing. "If you want to scare less people, you could call this your Bill-ding."

"HA! Oh, I'm saving that."

"Anyway, this isn't where you live," Mabel said. "You were there for like a week tops!"

"Yeah, before your great-uncle killed me. I'd still be living there if it weren't for you jerks." He stuck out his tongue.

"Come on, Bill. I showed you my house. Draw where you grew up or something!"

"What's wrong with the Fearamid?"

Mabel crossed her arms. "Why don't you want me to see your real house?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

Bill opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped, a thoughtful look on his face. "Eh, you know what? Why not. If you're gonna be so ridiculous about such a silly thing." He pulled over another piece of paper. "But if I don't have enough time to finish coloring this wig, you have to help me."

"Fiiine." She returned to her own drawings as Bill got back to work.

After a long silence—longer than he'd taken to draw and color the Fearamid—he said, "Okay, done. Here." And he pushed over the paper with one dismissive finger.

She eagerly accepted the drawing—and frowned. There was nothing on the page except for a straight flat black line, interrupted by three line segments of bright blue and a cluster of red and green dashes. "What is this?"

"Where I grew up," Bill said, innocently, already back to coloring the wig. Mabel could see his mischievous smirk. "As seen from the front. Just like your drawing of your house. So we're even now."

Mabel's brows furrowed as she stared at the page in confusion. "What...?"

"You do know I'm from the second dimension, right? A universe that's flat like a piece of paper. I figured Sixer would've told you all about it by now." Bill picked up the drawing and held it between his and Mabel's faces, so that, viewed from the edge, all Mabel could see of the paper was a thin flat line. "What do you think the second dimension looks like to somebody in the second dimension?"

Mabel took the paper back, looked at the underwhelming flat line representing the front of Bill's house, and said, "I hate you." 

"We had the prettiest roses in the park," Bill said, pointing at the red dashes. "Crayon really doesn't do them justice."

"Shut uppp."

Bill laughed at her; but then, to her surprise, he said, "Okay, all right, I guess a big fancy 3D creature like you can't understand the nuances of two-dimensional sight. So, here." He flipped over the page. "Top down view."

The back of the page had what looked like a floorplan. A narrow room on the left, a large L-shaped room, a tiny room nestled into the L's top right corner, and a medium room on the right. Little shapes filled the rooms—furniture of some kind?—but she didn't see anything immediately recognizable like a top-down bed or table and chairs. Green and red spirals dangled off the bottom of the floorplan.

"I'm no Edward Bishop Bishop, but it gets the idea across," Bill said.

She studied all the strange little figures in fascination, looking for anything familiar. She pointed at a few shallow bowls filled with blue sticking out of the wall between the L-shaped room and the tiny room. "Are these sinks?"

"Hey, you're pretty sharp. Sinks and the tub." 

"So the little room's the bathroom."

"Right again." Bill pointed out the rooms on the floor plan. "Master bed's on the right, kitchen and living room in the middle—and you found the bathroom—and second bed's on the left. That was my room! The one with a million books," he pointed at a wall with countless tiny multicolored lines coming off of it. "I was a big reader as a kid. I've always been an intellectual."

"Who was in the other bedroom?"

"I never really went in there, who cares." Bill made a dismissive gesture. "I think there were some desks and stuff in there too, but I didn't bother to draw them since I never used them." He picked up a yellow and a black crayon and added on to the drawing, dexterously turning the crayons in his hand to switch between colors without setting either one down. "I spent most of my time in my room." He'd drawn a little yellow triangle with an eye. He picked up a red crayon to point an arrow at the triangle and label it "Me!" "I didn't even have to leave the room to see the TV. The perks of psychic powers!"

Mabel wondered which of the weird shapes was the TV; but before she could come to a decision, she was distracted by the scale of Bill drawn in his room. Maybe he'd just drawn himself big, but he seemed cramped in that narrow space. And he'd hardly have room to turn around in the bathroom without his corner smacking something. "It looks pretty small. Is that normal on your home world?"

"Ah, I rarely spent time at home—it was just a place to sleep between speaking engagements," Bill said. "I was always on tour. Living the life of the rich and famous! Hotels, jet planes, and tour buses!"

Mabel shot him an irritated look. "You said this is where you grew up."

"This is where I grew up! I got an early start making my fortune. I was already famous by the time I was, uh..." he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Developmentally, I think I would've been about equivalent to your age. Maybe a bit younger."

How much of all this was true? It didn't feel like a lie—and she couldn't see how he'd benefit from lying about any of it, except maybe claiming to be famous. So it probably had to be true. He'd actually made her a drawing of his house. Even after he'd complained about being so bad at art. She beamed at him. "Thanks, Bill. Your weird alien house is neat! I like the squiggly spiral flowers! Are they actually roses?"

"They were the flower that everyone mentions in poetry and that you have to bring home when your wife is mad, so, same basic function as roses," Bill said. "Fun fact, they grow in spirals so that they're pretty on the outside, but—"

####

"—but have more surface area to absorb sunlight on the inside," Mabel said, pointing at the flowers. "Alien biology! And the orange things are couches and the colorful box in front of them is his TV, and Bill says he could watch TV through the wall but he never really liked TV, he preferred live performances—maybe we should take him to a musical! And the little sideways cushions on the walls are their beds because gravity goes to the left because their house faces east—I have no idea why!—so, I guess that's their 'floor'? But if that's the 'floor,' Bill didn't explain why all his books were on the 'ceiling' without them falling off, and..." Mabel trailed off, giving Ford a concerned look. "Grunkle Ford? Are you okay?"

He was gaping at the drawing. "Wh—? Yes. Sorry. I'm just..." He shook his head in amazement. "I never even got that slippery eel to admit he has a calendar system, and you got the blueprints to his childhood home?"

Dipper said, "Yeah, this is amazing. How did you get this out of him?"

"Oh, I didn't do anything special," Mabel said casually. "Just drew our house and then suggested he was too scared to let me see his."

Dipper grimaced. "You showed him our house?"

"Don't worry about it! He already knows where we live."

"Of course," Ford said, taking a quick note in his journal. "Exploiting his ego. He's very proud; undermine that pride and he'll feel compelled to defend his honor." Ford had started goading Bill into giving away more than he meant to the same way. He wished he'd started doing it far earlier; but he'd spent so many years foolishly assuming Bill's pride was objective and justified that he sometimes forgot what an egomaniac Bill really was.

As Mabel had spoken, Ford had filled several pages with bullet-pointed half thoughts: dodges questions about the master bed—his parents' room?; no bed or bedroom for a sibling, he seems like an only child; "speaking engagements" is probably a euphemism, what was he doing to become a child celebrity; were his books his only childhood possessions or just the only thing he valued enough to draw; did he gain his "psychic powers" while amassing the power he needed to "liberate"/destroy his dimension? "Can I borrow this drawing to make a photocopy?"

"Sure! Don't forget the line on the back," Mabel said. "And you can copy the Fearamid, too! Did you know he named it the 'Fearamid'?"

"Oh yeah, I heard him call it that," Dipper said. "I think I recorded it in Journal 3?"

"I should've read that before we threw out all of Grunkle Ford's Bill stuff," Mabel sighed. She slid over the Fearamid drawing to Ford. "Bwop! He drew it tilting all weird to the left? He wasn't kidding when he said he's bad at drawing."

Ford studied the drawing and frowned. He lay his pen on the drawing to use like a makeshift ruler. "It's not 'skewed'—he drew the front face as a perfect equilateral triangle, and then extended a side on the right to turn it into a pyramid. It's poor perspective—there's no point of view from which one side would look like a perfect equilateral triangle and you could see another side, but..." He trailed off again as he made a note to himself about what this might mean about Bill's ability to perceive the third dimension and his artistic sensibilities.

"So he draws like Picasso!" Mabel concluded. "Oh! Bill mentioned a name when he gave me his house, he said he wasn't like Edward Bishop Bishop—and I remembered it because it sounds funny. Bishop-Bishop. Maybe he's another artist Bill likes? Or somebody who makes blueprints?"

"I'm sure I've heard that name. I think he was a mathematician?" Ford frowned. "I can't recall, though." He wrote down another note: Edward Bishop Bishop – mathematician/artist? Something to look up later.

Dipper glanced back and forth between Ford and Mabel as they talked, feeling his stomach sink at how excited they were and how easily they got along. First the mysterious disappearing crystal shop in Portland, now Mabel made this huge discovery about the guy Ford had spent years trying to learn about... Dipper swallowed hard and tried to tell himself he shouldn't feel jealous after he'd gotten Ford to himself for basically the past year. "I can't believe you found out all this."

Mabel immediately looked at him. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

Dipper winced. He'd realized a moment too late how he must have sounded. Quickly, he said, "I mean, it's great that you did! Finding out more information about him is great. But, like... investigating the paranormal is my thing. It's what I spent all last summer doing, and it's my dream job, and... and now, the biggest paranormal mystery in human history is in our house, and you're the one getting all the info out of him?"

"Well, yeah," Mabel said. "I'm our official Bill spy, remember? I'm the one who made friends with him."

"I know, I know." He shrugged jerkily. "I'm just... kind of disappointed that I'm not prying eons-old secrets out of an alien demon. You know?"

Ford had paused in his writing to listen to Dipper thoughtfully. "I understand. When you're exceptional at something, it can be... difficult to share the limelight," he said. "Not because you don't think anyone else deserves it. You just don't know if you'll ever get it back."

Dipper's face heated up—he didn't want Ford to think he was bad at sharing, of all things—but he mumbled, "Yeah, I guess." Ford patted his shoulder understandingly. 

"Aww," Mabel said. "Didn't you say that if we're running an experiment on being nice to Bill, you want to be in the control group?" She punched his arm. "Welcome to the control, bro!"

"Ow!" Dipper rubbed his arm and laughed weakly. "Yeah, okay, you're right. This is what I get."

Mabel said, "You should try talking to Bill! Maybe he'll tell you stuff too. He's really easy to talk to as long as you don't mind him sometimes saying creepy nightmare things."

"And as long as you're prepared for his mental tricks," Ford said.

"Yeah! Grunkle Ford's got a whole class for that," Mabel said. "He'll teach you about the BITE model! It's how cults sink their teeth into you!"

Dipper chuckled. "Sure. Maybe I will. We're gonna be at home handing out candy for a few hours, maybe I'll find an opportunity to interrogate him."

"You're not going trick-or-treating?" Ford asked.

"No," Mabel said, with an exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

Dipper elbowed her for her theatrics; they'd already agreed on what they'd do tonight. "We've got plans with friends. But we do get to wear matching costumes again."

"Creepy ghost children!"

"Ah," Ford said. "That explains your..." He gestured at them. They were wearing a suit and a dress, old-fashioned and gray, with tattered hems and dusty black dress shoes.

"Barty helped us put the outfits together," Dipper said.

"We still need to do our makeup," Mabel said. "What about you, Grunkle Ford? What are you doing for Summerween?"

"Ah." He glanced toward the ceiling ruefully, as though he could see The Enemy in the shack through the many layers of dirt above. Summerween had been one of the things he'd missed most about Gravity Falls; even during his years as a reclusive scientist in the woods, he'd usually taken off Summerween and Halloween to hand out candy to the children bold enough to visit his house.

But Bill's eagerness to participate had sucked the fun out of the day. The thought of celebrating Summerween in the same house as Bill felt too much like celebrating with him. "Nothing, I suppose. I was planning to stay down here." He gestured at his desk. "Continue my research."

"What are you working on right now?" Dipper asked.

Ford quickly said, "Nothing. Just—the same research," and was immediately hit with a pang of guilt. Remember what happened last summer when you tried to keep secrets about Bill out of embarrassment? Reluctantly, he said, "I've... split some research duties with Fiddleford. While I'm waiting to hear back from him, I'm looking into—some magical knowledge Bill revealed. To determine how much of it's true."

Dipper looked puzzled. "Revealed when?"

Mabel slammed her hands on Ford's desk. "Grunkle Ford, you can take a break from gathering intel on the enemy for one day! It's Summerween! Promise me you'll do something to celebrate before the day's over."

Ford let out a huff, but smiled. He wanted to do something. Surely he could come up with something that would let him avoid Bill? "All right, I promise. I won't invoke the Trickster's wrath tonight. Could you leave your costume makeup in the bathroom when you're finished? I'll find something to do with it."

"Perfect!" Mabel hugged him; then grabbed Dipper's hand. "C'mon, let's finish getting dressed. The trick-or-treaters will be here any minute!"

"Okay, okay." Dipper waved at Ford as Mabel dragged him to the elevator.

When they were gone, Ford turned back to the papers Mabel had given him. Bill's childhood home... Assuming he wasn't lying, at least. But an entire blueprint seemed like a complicated spur-of-the-moment fabrication even for him. If Bill was lying, it was a lie close to the truth.

It was strange to imagine Bill as a child with a bedroom full of books. Strange to imagine Bill as a child at all. What did a young triangle look like? He couldn't imagine anything different from how Bill always looked.

The floorplan did look small. Smaller even than the apartment over the pawn shop had been. Ford tried to remember what the homes he'd seen in Exwhylia had looked like...

He raised his head as something the kids had said registered. "Barty? Who's Barty?"

####

While Mabel was downstairs, Bill inspected her box of crayons.

The wrapper around the gray crayon was coming loose.

He took the glue stick they'd been using to reinforce the paper houses with popsicle sticks and carefully stuck the wrapper back on.

The house was too quiet without anyone around to talk to. He hated the quiet.

From the corner of the living room behind the table, when Bill leaned on the wall, shut his eyes, and listened closely, he could faintly hear the hidden elevator. He headed upstairs to stow the drawing of Mabel's house somewhere safe, and then went to the downstairs bathroom to finish dressing for Summerween.

####

(Y'all I worked hard on those fake crayon drawings. Anyway I know we're all collectively going insane today over the book news but if you took time out of your day to read this, I'd love to hear what y'all think!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

[fyonahmacnally]

Watching Her

Kara stares at the blank screen in front of her. She’s been sitting at her dining room table for what feels like days. She needs to be writing her article, but it seems her brain has other plans. Instead, she’s trying to string together the words that have plagued her mind for months. Well, plaguing her for years really, if she’s being honest. 

Plus, lately there’s this urgent need to explain to her raven haired goddess of a best friend how much she means to the hero. Every time Kara thinks she can speak it aloud, the words get stuck in her throat. So, she thought she’d write them instead. Apparently that’s not working either since she’s been staring at her screen for Rao knows how long. No article and no words for Lena. She’s come up short either way. Since the genius woman left for Newfoundland a few days ago, the blonde hasn’t been able to think of much else. 

Just Lena. Always Lena.

Her time in the Phantom Zone was wrought with the fear of never seeing those mesmerizing bi-colored eyes or touching soft porcelain skin again. Their relationship has weathered storms most married couples haven’t faced. A sentiment that forces her thoughts down a path she’s skillfully avoided for years. Kara knows they reconciled and have swapped both apologies and forgiveness, but she’s still not sure where they stand. What they are. Friends? Yes, but there’s always been more. Unfortunately, dealing with the madness surrounding Lex and Nyxly hasn’t given them much time to sort through things. To truly talk.

There are countless things Kara wants to say. While in the Phantom Zone, she relived almost every moment of her relationship with Lena. The worst of things played out before her on most occasions, but the visions also allowed her subconscious to say things she’s always been too cowardly to say. As much as being there sucked, it also gave her insight into how much is still unsaid between them. Insight into where her true home lies. Who is her perfect partner at game night. 

It’s Lena. It has always been Lena.

She shakes her head with a sigh. The cursor on her screen mocks her. This is what happens every time she tries to put words on the page. Her thoughts instantly drift to Lena and all the words she’s choked back or refused to speak. Then a smile drifts across her lips, thoughts of how close she came to kissing the raven haired goddess. Right there in the middle of the tower when she first greeted Lena. If it hadn’t been for Alex and everyone else in the room, she might have. 

No, she’s sure she would have.

“Rao, stop it Kara!” She mutters to herself, slapping her forehead to punctuate her point. “You have an article to write. Even if it is a fluff piece for Andrea.”

Rolling her eyes at the thought of her boss, she straightens her spine, stretches her arms in front of her, shakes them out, and settles back in to write. 

A few hours later, Kara realizes she’s been writing a stream of consciousness. Her once blank document is filled with words. It’s great that she was able to get so many words on the page, but it’s absolutely, 100% not related to the article she needs to write for her deadline. A deadline two days from now. 

Nope. 

Every single word is related to Lena. 

Kara drops her chin to her chest, blowing out a breath of frustration before sitting back in her chair and dragging her hands down her face. “Okay, I guess I should read through this mess of thoughts. Maybe it will give me something for Lena.”

As her eyes rove over the page, drinking in the words she has written, Kara feels her body grow warm. Before her, on the laptop screen, sits the words she’s been looking for. The combination of things she’s longed to share with her best friend for the better part of six years. Sure, she’s going to have to edit some things and polish it up. However, she’s confident she finally has the words she wants to share. 

Lena comes back early. Kara isn’t sure why, but her raven haired friend doesn’t seem open to talking about it. She can tell something is on Lena’s mind though. The woman’s behavior certainly derails Kara’s plan to give Lena the journal/letter she wrote. 

Just another delay. Such is the life they live. The life of a hero.

They make plans to hangout together. Kara invites Lena to her loft to catch up and eat pie. Because…pie! 

The blonde watches her, drinking in her profile. Strong, sharp jawline. Soft, pouty lips. Perfectly manicured brows, vibrant porcelain skin, and shiny ebony locks cascading down her back, a few strands hanging over her shoulder and resting on her collarbone. Lena is without a doubt the most beautiful person Kara has ever seen, across any and all planets she’s been on. This woman captivates her, steals her breath, and owns her heart. 

She must get lost in her observation because the next thing she feels is a soft hand on her forearm breaking her from her trance.

“Kara?” Lena practically whispers, squeezing the hero’s forearm. “Darling, are you okay?”

She clears her throat, her embarrassment no doubt on display across her cheeks, spreading onto her ears. “Umm, yeah. F-Fine.”

Lena cocks her head to the side, patented eyebrow raise in place. “Want to try again? I know you didn’t catch what I said because you undoubtedly would have responded.” She releases the blonde’s forearm before shifting to face her. “Now, tell me what’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours.”

A long, shaky sigh makes its way out of Kara’s mouth. She is unquestionably not going to admit what currently has her distracted. Which means she needs to come up with something that is close to the truth, but doesn’t force her to admit her feelings. Not yet.

“I just, well, I missed you.” She reaches up to adjust glasses that aren’t there before diverting her hand to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. “There’s so much we have to catch up on and it’s a little surreal that you’re here. With me. Right now.” She trails off, the fading blush from a few minutes ago rushing back across her impervious skin. 

A full, gorgeous, dimpled smile spreads across Lena’s face. It’s the smile that Kara used to see all the time during their countless lunch dates and game nights. It makes her heart stutter in her chest, a sight more beautiful than Rao’s dawn on Krypton. 

“I missed you, too. We do have a lot to catch up on.” Lena winks at her before sitting her half-eaten pie on the coffee table. “Do you want me to finish what I was saying or are you ready to tell me what’s got you so distracted?”

“Y-You go ahead and finish what you were saying. We can talk about my scattered brain later.” She gives her most endearing grin, hoping it will persuade her best friend to continue.

It works. They exchange stories for the next couple of hours. Lena shares what she learned about her mother and how apparently she comes from a long line of powerful sorceresses. Kara shares the crazy things they fought and dealt with in her absence along with the plan to get rid of Lex and Nyxly for good. Another night of completely skirting her inner dialogue. 

And so it goes for several weeks afterward. They spend their time working to get rid of the worst Luthor and his psychotic fifth-dimensional girlfriend. In the aftermath of William’s death, losing Lillian, and Alex and Kelly’s wedding, Lena seems to come to terms with her magical abilities and gain confidence in her new identity as the last Luthor standing. 

The good Luthor.

While Alex and Kelly are on their honeymoon, Kara and Lena finally have the conversation both of them have been putting off. 

The two of them are curled up on opposite ends of Kara’s couch, each holding a cup of their preferred tea. They exchange shy, knowing smiles for several seconds before Lena breaks the comfortable silence.

“You know, I used to think the biggest monsters I had to fear were Lex and Lillian.” Lena softly says, running her finger along the edge of her rapidly cooling mug. “Over the past year and especially these last few months, I’ve learned we make our own monsters. We make our own monsters, then fear them for what they show us about ourselves.”

A plethora of emotions swirl in the verdant eyes that look up and connect with concerned, but affectionate blue ones. They revel in brief silence, drinking in the intimacy and vulnerability of their shared space. Two battered souls that completely understand one another in ways no one else can.

Lena takes a deep breath, sits her now cold mug on the coffee table, and pats the cushion next to her hoping Kara will slide closer. She watches as Kara places her own mug down and shuffles across the couch, planting herself close enough that Lena’s knee sits against the side of her thigh. A delicate, pale hand rests on top of a warm tan one.

Kara turns her hand to lace their fingers together, gently squeezing Lena’s in a show of comfort. “I get that, at least I think I do. We’ve both been through so much in our lives, so much trauma.” The hero sucks in a ragged breath, all the things she’s lost flashing through her mind. “We both have wounds that will never show on our bodies. Wounds that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds. But, as painful as they are, they’ve built us into who we are.”

A soft huff and a chuckle of incredulity sound beside her causing blue eyes to shift from their hands to Lena’s half-amused, half-saddened expression. “You’re not wrong, but I wish there was a better, less painful path to get here.” She rolls her eyes at the situation. “I guess part of my point in saying this about Lex and Lillian is that loving and yearning for love can be blinding. Sometimes, I think, we don’t really see how toxic someone is until we finally breathe fresher air.”

Lena lifts her free hand to gently rub soft patterns into the skin on Kara’s hand still clasped in hers. “When I was in Newfoundland, it reminded me that who I am and where I came from are only small pieces of who I want to be. Being in the fresh air, away from the Luthor name gave me a new perspective. It helped me realize some things.” 

A wistful smile spreads across her face as she pauses her ministrations on Kara’s skin. “There is a home no one can take from you, a home that will last. I think who you are, who you surround yourself with, and what you believe in is your real home. For me, that home is you, Kara.” She takes a shaky breath and makes eye contact with the blonde, hoping to convey how truly sincere she is. The raw truth in her statement.

Kara’s breath catches, her eyes glisten with tears. Lena hasn’t actually said the words she longs to hear, but it carries the same meaning. She does her best to collect her emotions and prevent the epic ramble she can sense coming. There is a journal/letter or whatever you want to call it she needs to share with Lena. So. She needs to get herself together. 

Which is hard when Lena looks so stunning. The happiness and confidence that exudes from her without Lex and Lillian looming over her, it makes her more alluring than ever. Kara’s mind constantly drifts to thoughts of ebony locks and viridian eyes.

Rao, Lena has never looked so beautiful. She’s a goddess amongst mere mortals…

She shakes her head and forces herself back to reality.

“You know, I spent a lot of time thinking about things too. While you were in Newfoundland, I mean. Well, and while I was in the Phantom Zone. Lots of time to think there.” She shakes her head, the urge to ramble growing stronger and she wants to do this right. Blowing out a breath and pulling another in, she tries to calm herself before trying again. “I’ve given a lot of thought to having a home and what it really means to me. I always see the same thing, Lena. Your face, your smile. It’s always you. I, umm, I wrote something about it while you were gone.”

Releasing their connected hands proves more difficult than she anticipated, but she manages. She pulls the folded paper from her pocket where it has been since she finished it. Her hope was the right moment would present itself and she could either let Lena read it or read it to her. Now the moment is here and she’s more nervous than her Pulitzer ceremony.

Clearing her throat, she pauses before locking eyes with her best friend and lightly shrugs. “I guess I’m not sure if you want to just read it or if you want me to read it to you. I mean, I’ll do either. Just as long as you know what it says and…” A nervous chuckle escapes and she shifts herself on the couch, turning her body toward her best friend. “What would you prefer? I’m going to be nervous and jittery regardless.”

Lena tilts her head and lifts her hand to her chin feigning thought. “Well, if you are giving me the choice, I am going to choose having you read it to me.” She pats the Kryptonian on the thigh before leaning her elbow onto the backrest of the couch, propping her head in her hand. “If I can listen to your words and hear your thoughts through your voice, I am going to choose that option every time, Kara.”

They laugh and settle into place as Kara unfolds the paper. She knows this is going to change things, she just doesn’t know how much. With one last look at the woman that holds her heart, she begins to read.

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

Watching her. It’s something I catch myself doing quite frequently. It’s not that I mean to or I do it on purpose. It just happens. She’s always captivated me. Her wit. Her brilliance. Her grace. Not to mention her eyes. Her smile. Her armor piercing eyebrow raise. There are so many things about her that reel me in.

From the first moment our eyes met, the first time my eyes connected with the deep pools of sea green, I knew she was special. Someone important. And that is the moment my world shifted.

Watching her is distracting. She moves with a sense of surety and power unlike any I’ve seen. Her intelligence is a super power very few possess, she wields it with both caution and tenacity. The desire to help others is so innate to her soul, even the sinister Luthors couldn’t break her drive to do good.

From the first time she helped save the city, I knew she was a hero. A woman worthy of respect and honor, no matter the name she was born under. That was the moment I knew we could take on the world together.

Watching her is awe inspiring. She is so willing to give, to help others, to share her inventions and love of science for the betterment of society, for the greater good of the world. She strives to help others, sometimes even at the detriment of herself.

From the moment she put herself on the line for the safety of others, I knew she was worthy of more than what so many hurl at her. Worthy of love, trust, and respect, leagues beyond what the world has given her.

Watching her is life changing. Life has so many twists and turns, nothing is guaranteed or promised. But when I see her, when I watch her teach her goddaughter new things, when I watch her toss her head back in unrestrained laughter, even when I watch tears drift down her pale cheeks…watching her is life changing.

From the moment I first held her in my arms, I knew my life was forever changed. The gift of her smile is priceless, the gift of her trust is sacred, but the gift of her love is divine.

Watching her has forever changed my life, finding her is how I found my home. --------------------------

Kara finishes reading, but is hesitant to look up. She’s not sure how Lena is going to react and doesn’t want to see rejection reflected back at her. It isn’t until she hears a soft sniffle that her head bolts up and her eyes find teary, sparkling green ones. 

Her eyes widen and she reaches out to wipe the tears away. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” The blonde grabs the box of tissues from the coffee table and hands one to Lena. “Are you okay? Do you need me to leave? I can…”

Her rambling words are halted by a soft finger pressing against her lips. She keeps her eyes on the woman the finger belongs to. The mossy pools she’s gotten lost in countless times search her oceanic ones, apparently finding what she needs.

Lena slowly removes her finger, gently lifting both hands to rest on Kara’s cheeks. She presses their foreheads together and sighs. “I guess two lost little girls finally found their home.”

Neither of them know who leaned in first. In the end, it really doesn’t matter. Not when the result is their lips pressing together and a home to call their own.

#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorp fanfic #fanfic #fanfic writer #mac writes

[vixensajntz]

(this is for my pookie dookie @br4tphobia)

dom abby x black fem reader.gym sex.semi public sex.reader gets nervous.abby wears a muscle tee.riding fingers.fingering.clit play.grinding.doing it on a bench.humiliation kink.dirty talk.daddy kink.abby calls reader a bitch.degrading kink.reader has a phat booty.abby wears a muscle tee.abby nd reader are stangers to lovers.all infront the big gym mirror.daycryphilia.

WHAT A SLUT.

you decided to go to the gym to work on your glutes…cause who doesnt love a good lookin ass…nd that progress of going to the gym every couple of days has reall paid off.Now you have been eyeing this fine ass woman there that has been your gym crush ever since youve been going there…little did you know shes been eyeing you too.You both have made eye contact a lot today and it was a pretty late night in the gym and it was a small but spacious gym.Abby has been eyeing even without u knowing since youve walked in tonight…maybe it was because of that tight fitting gym set that made your ass look just right…maybe it was your matching braid that went with the color of your outfit that got her…or maybe it was your new fresh nail set.Who knows what it was but all she knows is that she wants to get up on you in this empty gym…and luckly you feel the same way abt that too…the way abby is looking in her sage green muscle tee that shows off her black sports bra thru the big cuts of her tee really has got you in a chokehold…making you start to unfocus from your workout,rubbing your thighs together trying to get some sort of friction on your poor clit.Abbys detailed muscled arms moving with such grace as she does her reps…sweat dripping down her arms…seeing those veiny forarms flex as she moves the bars…the bracelet filled wrists…the ring filled fingers…she does all of that while staring right at you...you start getting nervous with intense stare.All you can think about is what those hands and arms could do to you in such a place like this…little did you know your night at the gym would come out in a perfect ending.

now your leggings are pulled off one leg with your panties still having one side on thats pulled down to your mid thigh,your top pulled up showing your pretty perky titties,your nails are gripping into her shoulders while youre straddling on her muscular thigh riding her thick fingers.All you can think about is how did you even get here? but you could careless rn with the way shes treating you.You both are placed in a small gym room only used for classes but it has a perfect bench thats placed right infront of the mirror…being a perfect place for abby to see you.Your whining over and over again…this is all to much…the way shes talking down to you…the way her arms flex beautifully while gripping your right ass cheek while she has her other hand occupied in your creamy wet pussy.’What if someone walked in on us seeing you be such a slutty bitch on my fingers hm?’she said with her deep voice giving your ass a stinging slap…making you whimper…’you would like that shit wouldnt you?’ after she said those words your pussy clenched at the thought…you tuck your head into her neck that has the perfect musky scent…muffling your moans…you start to lightly kiss up her neck…she lightly sighs at the action.Bringing your head back up to kiss her but she rejects ‘you think girls that act like this deserve a simple kiss? thats not how it works baby.i want you to beg for it’ she said with a chuckle…tears start forming in your eyes as you whine…’p-please pleaseee’ dragging out your words barley being able to get anything out with the pleasure thats building within you.’one more time baby and say my name.’ she says…’please daddy,i wanna kiss you so badddd’ you said bitting your plump gloss smudge lips…she leans in kisses your lips lightly building it more into a makeout session with your letting out your pleasure harmonies in her mouth…her pearly clit pulses at this…she could almost cum on the spot but she holds herself back…reaching your hand down to her almost soaked black basketball shorts to rub her pussy,after seeing her slowly start to grind up to get some sort of friction on her clit…she groans lowly at this action…she slowly starts to grind herself in your hand…and just cant seem to stop…your pretty tattooed flower hand rubbing up and down,doing light circles with your three fingers is really starting to get to her…her fingers speeding up inside of your pussy…her fingers grounding that spongey spot inside…you moan loudly at this action…your free hand pulling her french braid to get her to look at you with that haze in both of yalls eyes…shes panting and wincing at your strong pull…your tounge licks at her tounge…swirling them around eachother…you lightly start to suck on hers while bobbing your head…your humming at her sweet taste…she tastes just like candy…you thought to yourself.You both getting off to eachother in such a dirty way…neither of you can stop…both of your climaxes on the tip of your tounges…she spreads your right ass cheek apart to get deeper in your pussy…’look at yourself in that mirror baby’ she pants…you turn yourself to the mirror…seeing that wet spot on her shorts…your face turns into a pout…you seeing your tear stained face…’look at that pretty dirty ass bitch in that mirror’ she said grinning at you…the way shes degrading you rn…is getting even closer to the edge…’youre gonna make m-me fuckin c-cumm’ you said with a sigh…abby is getting to her end too…your hand is starting to rub back and forth on her pearly pretty clit…you starting to grind yourself on her fingers with your clit lightly getting stimulated by her thigh…’were gonna cum at the same time,okay my love?’she said grinding her fingers into you deeper…she feels your hand starting to speed up on her clit rubbing figure 8 motions,trying to get both of you off at the same time…your clit bumps more and more till that knot snaps…’rightthere imcummminnnn’ you said with a loud pornographic moan…’s-shit i am too baby fuckkk mee’ abby said with her hips stuttering into your hand with a loud groan…both riding your high state of euphoria out with one another.

‘can i maybe get your number?’abby asks while watching you pull up your pants over your thick ass after seeing your white thong getting sucked up by your ass cheeks…shes trying not to get turned on again.

you look at her ‘hmmm sure’you said with a pretty pearly smile on your face knowing you just teased her.

©yeagerzprettyblnt 2023$!dont steal,plagiarize my shit,steal themes,or repost my works anywhere else without asking.if you do you will have conquences.

#♡livvy liv works♡ #abby anderson fan fiction #abby anderson tlou2 #abbyanderson #abby anderson fic #abby smut #abby the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fanfic

[pinknipszz]

golden girl

↷ ˊ- neteyam/metkayina reader | (i.), (ii.), (iii.), (iv.)

“cause i have walked a thousand miles for the golden girl, golden smile.”

neteyam had finished the spearhead in a matter of days. after having secured the carved bone to the end of a sturdy pole, he tried its durability against some fish, but not without whispering a few prayers beforehand. his arms had grown taut from the strain, and neteyam feels sorry for leaving you worried, even when he had apologized that he’d be missing another day’s lessons for reasons so futile.

but you, oh so beautiful you, had placed a gentle hand on his chest that spoke a thousand reassurances. the skin underneath your palm rejoiced at the contact, buzzing with delight. neteyam couldn’t even begin to recall what you had really said to him. but if you asked what beads were in your hair or what your eyes remind him of, he’d have an answer. he’d say it like gospel truth. 

after you had left, he returned to the spear. he was still a warrior at heart. 

neteyam remembers how the weight of it felt strange in one hand, and how he didn’t quite know what to do with the other. if you had been there that day to watch him, hunting fish with an aim that wouldn’t even impress a baby, you would have called him out on his tense shoulders or unsure feet. it just felt awkward, unfamiliar. his stance, his spear, the sea. but he didn’t want to call it wrong.

sure the smooth stone was too heavy for an arrow and too thin for a spear, but he would never call it wrong, a freak of nature. maybe he would have in the past, but now he knew what it really was: a little like him. carved for the forest before he changed its purpose. now the weapon was neither arrow nor spear. neither land nor sea. it lays tucked away in his family’s marui, collecting dust and dreams he dared not speak.

visiting the tidepools became a pastime, just as you predicted. it had not even been several days since neteyam last asked you to accompany him, but you didn’t mind. it made up for his recent absences. while you do adore his siblings and treat them like your own, you admit that there’s a charm in the eldest that simply could not be replicated. so when he had asked you one morning, your heart jumped eagerly.

you felt guilty the more you realized the reality of the situation. you joined the group for tuk out of the goodness in your heart, and now you yearned for her older brother. it made your stomach churn, yet a quiet, selfish part of you wondered what it would be like to stand by neteyam’s side, to call his family your own, and to have his child. you wanted a hand to slap you across the face, hard, for such thoughts. 

the sun peeked through the overgrown palms as you and neteyam followed the familiar path to the pools. it didn’t take much convincing from your parents, much less his own, as if they could see something far beyond the line of friendship. growing and taking shape. the thought left you stubborn, willing to deny and fight for your pride, but you knew that it’d be for naught. neteyam captivated you beyond recognition.

you grew shy of his advances too, if you could even call them that. his silly attempts at conversation, the looks he gave you from afar, even now, with his hand entwined in yours, as he led you to the spot. they fell under an umbrella without a label, or on a blurred line between friends and something more. you bit the inside of your cheek until it drew blood, nervously savoring its copper.

“there will be more fish today.” neteyam said almost to himself, his eyes trained forward. “the waves were high last night with fish of all sorts of colors. you will like them.” you’re not sure if that’s how it works, but you didn’t comment on it.

“then we’ll bring fish for your family.” you squeezed his hand, committing his rough calluses to memory. warm. so warm. “you’re siblings are doing much better now. i wish you had been there to see it.” you remember how lo’ak had finally beat his record of twelve minutes with a commendable sixteen. truly a magnificent feat considering it had only been a few months worth of progress.

tsireya had been the first to congratulate him, all sunshine and smiles. kiri and tuk joined right after. you were fourth, and ao’nung the reluctant fifth. the metkayina trio had decided to end the lessons on a high note by dedicating the rest of the day to “unsupervised” ilu riding. truly, lo’ak had grown spoiled. but there was the unmistakable glint of disappointment in his eyes at how neteyam had not been there to see it.

his steps slowed as if to absorb your words properly, before turning to you with a strange expression. “is that how you feel? if you had asked me to stay, i would have.” neteyam said so easily, his voice light and borderline teasing. how cheeky! you looked away first, unable to maintain eye contact for too long. 

the sea smelled stronger here at the edge of the mangroves, numbing your senses. you could only imagine how neteyam felt. the pools were closer too, and oddly enough, he had been right. the pools were higher, deeper, fuller. they reminded you of what you suggested prior. fish for his family.

“did you bring your spear with you?” you asked.

neteyam shook his head, shrugging. “left it at home.” home. you didn’t catch his slip.

he let go of your hand so you can jump off the rocks. then, he followed suit. neteyam memorized it by now, the patterns in the rock. where to step, to pause, to turn. how one had more algae than the other. he doubts he’ll ever get over the feeling of wet algae though. it nearly left him nauseous, but he won’t tell you that. “then how do you suppose we catch fish?i thought you were a hunter.” you huffed.

“a warrior,” he corrected.

“is there a difference?” 

surprised with your sudden curiosity, neteyam thought for a moment. truthfully, there wasn’t much of a difference when both hunters and warriors fought to survive. most times he felt like one or the other, other times neither. “somewhat,” he decided, choosing his next words carefully. “one hunts, the other kills. unless you plan to eat your enemies, then you could be both.” your face scrunched in disgust and you punched his shoulder.

chuckling, neteyam reached down to splash water in your direction. “i’m glad you can call yourself a hunter,” he continued. “i don’t want war to touch this place.” fish darted to and fro, and plants waved their tendrils at you. when his eyes grew distant, focusing on violent memories, you watched him quietly. never had the differences between you two been so clear, like the waters of your home. 

you were a hunter, he was a fighter. you hunted with intent to feed, he fought with weapons to kill. the cycle of life and death, just as the great mother had embedded in your psyche. like natural law. it was just as strange how two na’vi of two clans could stand so close together, so strongly juxtaposed. sometimes you wondered if this was wrong, or simply one of the many unexplainable things that ewya had intended. 

but how could you ever call it simple? even when his shade of blue was so different from yours, and how arms and legs and tail were so much thinner, you swore nothing has ever looked, felt, so right. “did you hunt in the forest?” you asked.

“often.” neteyam looked at you, so much lighter than he ever has before, at the mention of his first home falling from your pretty lips. two of the things he loves most entwined together. he fought the urge to kiss you, to feel the forest and the sea at once. “the first thing i caught was a fish.” 

“you and i aren’t so different then.” you grinned.

neteyam finally felt that, after all this time, the move had been worth it. he promises to bring the spear next time.

(masterlist)

#atwow #avatar the way of water #neteyam x reader #neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam imagine #avatar imagines #atwow neteyam

[tbcanary]

for arrowfam week day one: "ghost" and "grow"

(set sometime around ga vol 7, but not exactly accurate based on current timelines within the run. suspend your disbelief with me for a sec.)

--

There’s a girl sitting at Mia’s desk.

Not that that’s unusual, or anything. Mia might come from a family of famous caped crusaders, but the vigilante business doesn’t exactly pay well enough for Ollie to foot all of her bills in the heart of Star City. She has roommates – two of them, actually, girls who have known each other since college but needed a third while so-and-so is studying abroad for a year, blah blah blah – and they’ve been known to sneak in to use her desk so that they both aren’t stuck studying at the kitchen table like they’re in the opening scenes of a Dickinson novel or whatever.

The point is, people sit at Mia’s desk sometimes. It happens, and normally it wouldn’t bother her, even coming home from work this late. Even after she spent all evening cleaning up the cafeteria in the community center after some kind of Bean Incident none of the kids would blab about, no matter how much she tried to wheedle it out of them.

Anyway. That’s not what bothers her. The thing that bothers her, actually, doesn’t hit until the girl looks up at her. The hood of her sweatshirt falls back from her head, revealing a shock of bright pastel hair, and Mia doesn’t know anyone with that hair color but –

But she knows those soft brown eyes. She knows that dimple in the left cheek, accompanying the uncertain smile.

“Lian,” she says. “What. The fuck.”

And then she slaps a hand over her mouth, and the laughter spills between her fingers despite her best efforts. “I mean, shit, I shouldn’t — goddammit, Roy is going to be so mad at me for cussing, but I —what?”

“Um.” Lian shrugs. It is her, after all; her voice sounds exactly like Cheshire, somehow, but the way her eyes crinkle at the corners is all Roy. “Hi.”

Mia stumbles into the room, sets her duffle bag to the ground with a thump that feels more like an earthquake. She drops down onto her unmade bed and stares – not bothering to hide her astonishment, her disbelief – at Lian, somehow so much older, somehow exactly the same.

“If I’m being haunted, you legally have to tell me,” Mia insists.

Lian shrugs. The toes of her sneakers drag against the floor as she kicks her feet, hands gripping the sides of her seat. “Nope. Not a ghost.”

Well. It’s not as weird as it sounds, probably. Roy had come back, and Ollie had, too, hadn’t he? But Mia… Mia had been there when Lian died. Sort of. Or at least, it was her not being there that had done it, and she’d done everything she could to find a loophole, but there had never been one. Nothing. She’d been gone; it had sat in Mia’s stomach like a weight, like a rock she’d swallowed and couldn’t spit back out.

“Clone?” she tried.

Lian shook her head. “Mm-nn.”

“Hallucination.”

“Nope.”

“Prank?”

“Only from the universe.”

“Alternate dimension.”

“Maybe.”

“Well,” Mia said.

And then she swallowed.

And then her breath came out in a flurry of hysterical giggles again, a fountain she just couldn’t stop, and she dropped her face into her hands and let the flood come, let it pour out of her chest like an open wound.

“Fuck,” Mia hissed. “I—Fuck me. God. Lian, does Roy, does your dad know?”

Lian hums her confirmation. “He’s on the roof. He and Uncle Connor brought me to see you.”

“They’re…?” Mia pushes off the bed and stomps over to the window. She throws open the glass and leans out, looking upward.

Sure enough, a grappling hook arrow is hooked into the brick of her building with a rope dangling down. That must be how Lian got in. Mia should really start locking her windows, but it’s just so much easier to make a quick escape that way instead of going out the front door.

She doesn’t give a fuck about the neighbors, so she shouts as loud as she can. “Hey! Assholes!”

Two heads peek over the edge at her, one with shaggy red hair and one with a series of blonde braids. Connor, at least, has the decency to wave. Roy just raises an eyebrow at her, like she’s the one inconveniencing him.

Ugh. Brothers.

“What the fuck?” she shouts. “How did she get so tall?”

Roy snorts, and it echoes off the building next door. “Blame the multiverse, or something!”

“I can hear you,” Lian offers.

Mia waves a hand. “Shut up, I’ll deal with you in a minute. The adults are speaking.”

Lian huffs, and Mia can practically hear the eyeroll. As if she doesn’t get enough crap from the kids she works with all damn day, now she’s got a bratty teenager who’s going to be expecting a cool aunt she can come play hooky with, or whatever kids do. Mia wouldn’t know; she didn’t exactly have aunts and uncles to set an example.

“Can you at least come down here and walk me through it, instead of sitting around like two old farts at a chess tournament?” Mia demands.

On the streets below, someone must take offense to their big family reunion. Mia hears the distant – but distinct – sounds of someone telling her to shut the fuck up, lady! from the sidewalk.

Star City. Gotta love it.

“Fine, fine,” Connor says. He’s still smiling, though, and she watches as he pulls a rope arrow from his quiver. “Give us a second. Arsenal’s not as young as he once was.”

Roy lets out some kind of offended comment at that, Mia’s sure, but she doesn’t pay him any attention. Instead, she turns to face Lian again and all but tackles her, trapping her head in the bend of an elbow and ruffling her hair as she squeals.

“And you, you little brat,” Mia says, holding on tight as Lian laughs and tries to wriggle free, “are going to tell me everything.”

#arrowfamweek2023 #arrowfam week #mia dearden #lian harper #arrowfam #EHHHH WHO NEEDS CONTINUITY. #this is only a stretch because roy is here. bc based on [REDACTED] he may not be when mia shows up #ASSUMING mia shows up #but i'm going to IGNORE all of that #in favor of mia and lian #roy harper #connor hawke #fic.tb

[fyrefrostanimus]

Le Voices

I have been trying to figure out their designs for months and I think I've finally figured them out.

I really hope this is readable, but I will give little design notes on each of them.

When it came to The Voices overall, I knew I wanted to stick with a few conventions: something small that can stay out of the way of The Hero's view despite being able to see them (because why not? this is the fandom side and I'm not going to be a stickler for accuracy), mostly one color on each of them, and a white marking on some of them if there's something that fits. So little birds really did work. I chose to have some sort of not-black/white color on the, because sometimes The Voices can take control (such as how Voice of the Cheated does in Chapter III onward in The Razor, or Voice of the Smitten decides that if The Damsel isn't alive, no one should be) and it would be nice to have some way of telling just by looking even if you can't see it. So now onto the individuals!

These go from left to right, top row to bottom row.

Voice of the Hero

While I haven't posted my design for The Hero yet some things are settled like the way the feathers are set on the head/chest. The Voice of the Hero has the same features as The Hero and the same eye color since it's almost like his own conscious, but not quite. He's there all the time so it makes sense they have a common design element other than bird.

Voice of the Contrarian

While it's Voice of the Skeptic who actually says "wink" aloud, the actual facial expression definitely matches Voice of the Contrarian more. And a bright, maybe slightly obnoxious yellow is definitely what I think he'd be like.

Voice of the Stubborn

Voice of the Stubborn would not take care of his feathers. They're all roughed up from squabbles, although whether it was with The Princess or the other Voices is up for debate. He has a spur on each of his wings like a lapwing does, and red-orange eyes like his burning will to fight.

Voice of the Smitten

Of course Voice of the Smitten has pink eyes, what other color would have worked? His feathers are in much more rounded shapes than the other Voices. Voice of the Smitten has some markings around his chest area that end up in a heart shape, although they're more like stab wounds referencing how you get from Chapter I to The Damsel.

Voice of the Cold

Voice of the Cold was originally going to have a gray-blue as his eye color (that now belongs to Voice of the Paranoid). But man, seeing the way he's almost proud of the fact he killed someone in at least The Burned Gray just immediately made me decide he was going to have purple instead (I was not kidding when I said his behavior in that specific route reminded me of William Afton). The X marking is the same as The Spectre's.

Voice of the Opportunist

Before anyone asks, the cat ears are on purpose. Brown was chosen as it's a neutral tone: Voice of the Opportunist is almost always neutral before he sucks up to the person he believes has the most power. The markings on his wings resembling the pristine blade are physical representations of his willingness to backstab anyone as soon as he gets the advantage.

Voice of the Cheated

Not really sure I like the red eyes, but honestly The Razor is one of the bloodiest route in the game. And what color is blood? Red. Plus it's one of the two colors the symbols on playing cards can be, and since all the Voices are already completely black minus their markings and eye color, it just leaves red. The Voice of the Cheated has wings where the feathers almost look like they were cut short with a knife.

Voice of the Broken

Voice of the Hunted originally was going to have the broken wing, before I slapped myself after remembering VOICE OF THE BROKEN literally exists. While Voice of the Hero has neutral white eyes to match The Hero and Voice of the Opportunist has neutral brown eyes because he can't pick a side until he sees who has power, Voice of the Broken has gray eyes because whatever color was there was beaten out of him just like his wing was broken.

Voice of the Hunted

Green eyes because nature, let's get that out of the way. Voice of the Hunted's feathers are shorter, and almost more natural-looking. He's prey, and the bite mark on his neck isn't going to let anyone forget that.

Voice of the Skeptic

I didn't know why I gave Voice of the Skeptic blue eyes at first, but he keeps a really cool head even when under pressure. And blue is a cool color. It's just brighter to contrast with Voice of the Paranoid. Voice of the Skeptic has a constant raised eyebrow expression.

Voice of the Paranoid

There wasn't much to Voice of the Paranoid when I first sketched him, but the frazzled-looking feathers stuck. He doesn't need a marking when he constantly looks spooked.

#slay the princess #slay the princess the voices

[attentionthisisarobbery]

Eddie Munson’s Bandana: An Analysis

Content Warning: discussion of flagging, sex, sexual preferences, HIV/AIDS, drugs

Y’know, I’ve seen a million takes on the handkerchief Eddie has in his back pocket. I’ve seen people who prefer Eddie as a top in fanworks point at it and say, “there’s your proof, no point in denying it.” On the other hand, I’ve seen people who prefer him as a bottom say that he is unaware of the implications of the bandana, or simply write his bandana to be in his other pocket. I even saw a fanfic where it was because Eddie didn’t know his left from his right.

But I think there could be more subtly to it. As a gay guy, I gotta tell you, there’s a million reasons for Eddie to have that bandana in his pocket.

One is the obvious — he’s flagging his preferences so other queer men know what he’s looking for. The pocket he wears it in canonically would indicate that he prefers a top/dominant role in the bedroom. Now that could meant submissive top or dominant bottom, not just dominant top. The color is another issue. A black hanky is indeed representative of S/M, but in the 80s, around the time of the HIV/AIDS crisis, black and white hankies were worn to represent safe sex. Basically, “Hey, it’s cool if we hook up as long there’s protection.” Does Eddie have handcuffs hanging in his room? Yeah. Would that indicate an interest in S&M? Yeah. But the black and white hanky DID have another meaning at the time the story takes place.

Another option is that Eddie wants other queer people to think he’s a top, even if he may not identify that way. As a short king myself, I have to say that in certain situations (see: gay bars), I tend to attract more aggressive guys. By dressing and acting in a more aggressive, masculine way, I can sort of deter those kinds of guys when I’m not looking to hook up. I found that was less true when I lived in San Francisco, but while living in a small town (like Hawkins), I see a lot more of that “masculine tops” and “feminine bottoms” mentality. Also a lot more of the “no such thing as a true switch” mentality. Now, I’m not old enough to tell you what it was like to be queer in the 80s, but there wasn’t nearly as much information about being gay back then. You could only learn from other individuals — no looking up how gay sex works on Google. So it wouldn’t shock me if that whole “who’s the man in the relationship?” thing was something queer folks had to reckon with way more than we do now. Basically, for Eddie, that bandana could be a sign to other queer folks that he’s a safe person to talk to, while simultaneously working as a deterrent to “doms” who wouldn’t know safe, sane, and consensual is it slapped them on the ass. And, even today, there’s a lot of those.

Or, given Eddie’s, er, career path, it could be a sign to potential buyers. If you’ve never been a gay man, you might never have heard of poppers. In the 80s, it was known as the gay drug. And honestly, it still sort of is today. In a queer space, you can say poppers and everyone will know what you’re talking about, but I’ve mentioned it to straight friends and had to explain it, since they’d never heard of them. I’m one of those so-sober-he’s-boring people. I’ve never done recreational drugs, and I rarely drink. I’m often the designated driver, and I’m happy ordering a Shirley temple at the bar while my friends get sloshed. And I still know about poppers. The idea is to make anal sex more comfortable and enjoyable. So, by flagging, Eddie could be signaling that it’s safe to ask him for some.

If Eddie is flagging for non-sexual reasons — just trying to signal to other queers that he’s safe — the pocket he chooses could be incidental. What if he’s a switch? I’ve read articles saying that you can take a bunch of bandanas, tie them together, and wear them like a belt to show you’re a switch, but as far as I can tell, that wasn’t a thing back then. Whether or not it should be a thing now, from a fashion standpoint, is another issue. Something that I like about Eddie is that he does actively go out of his way to create a safe space for other “freaks.” It’s a really endearing part of his character, so flagging without sex being his actual goal makes sense for him.

The last possibility I want to address here is probably something that angst writers will eat up. I’m gonna tell a personal story here, just heads up. What if Eddie has been TOLD that he is a top? I was in a long-term relationship with this guy — I mean we were living together and talking about marriage, adopting kids, it was serious. And he basically said that I was bad at bottoming. Really, he just wanted me to top all the time, but he got it in my head that I wasn’t a good bottom, that I made unattractive faces, or it took me too long, or fucking whatever, but after we called it quits, I didn’t have sex for four years. Because I thought that the way I enjoyed having sex wasn’t enjoyable for my partner. If Eddie did have a partner who made him feel insecure about his preferences, he could be flagging as a top, maybe even believing that he is a top, because his experiences bottoming haven’t been great. In truth, he could be a switch, or hell, just a straight up bottom, but not want anyone knowing about that side of him.

Finally, just to wrap this up, I want to point out that this was all just food for thought, not what I see as the “correct” way of viewing Eddie’s bandana. Basically, I just wanted to show writers that they don’t have to say Eddie didn’t know he was flagging if they want him to bottom in their fics. I honestly think the fanfiction community gets hung up on top vs bottom way more than is actually realistic. While I am one of those people who does have a definite preference, I think I’ve run into more switches than tops OR bottoms, doms OR subs. And at the end of the day, we’re all just getting off to fictional characters, trying to find content that caters to our own preferences, so there’s absolutely no reason to fight each other about it.

Aaaaaand that’s that. I’m curious what you guys think about all this, so feel free to comment or shoot me a message or something.

Update: @nam-draws reminded me that Eddie’s bandana has implications in the metal scene as well, I wanted to talk about those as well!

So, one of the bands that we see Eddie likes a lot is Judas Priest. He’s got a pin on his vest and two posters in his room. Their lead singer, Rob Halford, is a homosexual man — he officially came out in 1998, but he had a coming out song, Raw Deal, way back in ‘77, that he said queer fans recognized for what it was while going over the heads of straight fans. Halford wore a bandana in his back pocket whenever he performed, and some metalheads started wearing them as well, trying to emulate his fashion. He contributed hugely to metal fashion; according to Rob Halford himself, the aesthetic of his outfits on stage came from the San Francisco gay BDSM scene in the 70s.

In the photo above, you can see what his look entailed. Note the handcuffs! We see that Eddie has handcuffs hanging in his room, not to mention his belt buckle. It could mean that he’s into BDSM, or it could be in homage to one of his favorite musicians. That’s another way authors can play with the implications of his costume and set design — maybe Eddie is super kinky, or maybe he just wants to emulate Rob Halford! It’s up to you. So maybe Eddie wears his bandana like that as part of his metal fashion instead of his queer fashion. After all Rob Halford ensured that the two would have significant overlap for half a century to come! There is another musician who Eddie could be paying tribute to (although I think it’s less likely for reasons I’ll get into in a bit).

James Hetfield, co-founder, lead vocalist, and rhythm guitarist of Metallica also wears a bandana in his back pocket on stage, but not for flagging purposes. He claims that he shouts into the bandana before a show, so if he loses his voice on stage, he’ll always have an extra yell in his back pocket. Just for reference, Judas Priest released their first album in September of 1974, but didn’t get mainstream traction until their Sin After Sin album released in April 1977. Metallica, on the other hand, released their first album in 1983, and didn’t see commercial success until their Master of Puppets album released in 1986. It’s also worth noting that Metallica hasn’t found its way onto Eddie’s battle vest yet, likely because he discovered them recently. Basically I’m saying that if Eddie really is emulating either Halford or Hetfield, Halford makes more sense from a timeline standpoint.

#steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfiction #flagging #character analysis #I’m not trying to be salty #but there’s gotta be a better option than he doesn’t know his lefts and rights #for what it’s worth #as a subby bottom boy #he’s giving subby bottom boy #it’s like looking in mirror if I was taller and hotter #and my straight friend said eddie has bottom eyes #like I didn’t even ask him he just said that on his own #metallica #judas priest #james hetfield #rob halford #heavy metal #thrash metal #metal #metalhead

[brinaanana]

I just discovered your art and it’s so beautiful!! Have you thought about sharing a process video or brush details sometime? I also use procreate and your painting work is so lovely, it’s soothing to the eyes, I’d love to learn more about it 💕

Hi!

I'm really happy you like my work so much! Tbh, I've always wanted to share my drawing process, but never ended up doing it. Thanks to your ask, I'm finally motivated to write one!

I will go over my process / brushes / and other extra things of this particular drawing... under the cut!

I will go over my process / brushes / and other extra things of this particular drawing... under the cut!

Starting out:

The most decisive part of drawing (in my opinion, anyways) is the initial sketch. I usually find myself drawing multiple preliminary sketches before going to coloring, hence why the video below is cropped in the beginning. There are so many things running through my mind as I sketch - should she look at the viewer? Should I make her cross her arms? How should how clothes flow? That sort of thing.

The most frustrating thing in art is definitely having an idea, but being unable to carry it out due the skill set not matching up. For example, most of my drawings have the characters standing there like 🧍‍♂️ I wish I can do something much cooler like having Kaine pointing her blade at Nier but I lack the skill to draw poses like that. Better yet, I want to be able to draw from different angles. One day... I swear!!

Coloring:

There's no lineart section because I barely have patience to do so loll. Back before uni started, I had enough time to go line my drawings on CSP using my tablet back home. Nowadays, I'm just drawing on my ipad whenever I can. My art style changed a lot due to this new adjustment, which is pretty funny because it's been only one semester so far.

The brushes I usually use are the following, I don't usually use anything else other than these, unless I am working with metals. I use the "glass" brush in pretty much everythingggg, from sketching to cleaning up. Lmk if anyone wants to try the brush. The edge brush is by JenClaessen , which I love to do to shade skin. The last tool I use is the ordinary airbrush. My favorite thing adding soft lighting using it!

I like to do this thing where I use the glass brush at low opacity to add a complementary color (yellow in this case) in the area where the base and shade meet (1)! Another thing I do it adding a brighter, saturated color towards the end of a round surface. This is adds shape to the 2d drawing, since there is light creeping from behind her (2).

Because my art style is highly stylized, the lighting in my pieces seem to hit harsher than reality. I make the shading where it meets the base color the darkest, and the shading gets lighter as it gets farther away, or vice versa (3). In other words, the shading near her nose is darker than the other areas on her face.

I would usually lower the opacity of the lines and change their color appropriately, to give the drawing a softer feel. Coloring is basically also my cleanup stage too. As I color, I will erase the lines and make the colors show the way instead. I would also like to note that I utilize the airbrush in skin to show texture of it, while the use the glass brush to do the intricate details in the hair/clothes.

Editing:

For editing, I usually start by copying/pasting my whole drawing then tone curving immediately. Tone curving is basically adjusting the lights and darks by manipulating this line. The line towards the right changes the lights, vice versa for the darks. I don't remember the exact configurations for this drawing, but it should be akin to this:

After tone curving, I like to slap on a gradient map for more interesting effects! Similarly to the tone curve, the colors towards the right highlight the lighter colors, and vice versa. Below are the colors I chose for this drawing. Tbh, I can't really explain why I chose these colors specifically - I think the best results would come from going with your guts and trying to use colors to match the vibes.

Honestly, with procreate's features, you can't really go wrong. Sometimes, I'd tone curve a drawing multiple. Other times I would add two gradient maps that contain different colors together, with different layer effects. The noise filter is super charming when applied subtly to the shades. The chromatic aberration makes lazy doodles polished.

-

Here is the process video. I draw multiple things in a single canvas, so I cut those bits out.

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#ask #art tips #tutorial #nier kaine #nier #drawing

[artsy-hobbitses]

So you already have ttb anime opening songs list. Do you have a ttb anime closing songs list as well?

Follow up from here for those curious!

SEASON 1 (Pre-War) Ending: Fukisusabu kaze no naka de by WAG (Gensomaden Saiyuki)

Running along the edge of the cliff We decide not to look back Not speaking even one word Always without repentance Looking up at the sky The pouring rain falls down And as we wonder if it had let up It starts falling again on our heads If we stir up our emotions, We can easily determine our dreams Determine our love, Our friends, our lives In the midst of the raging wind Can I really throw away my pride? The colors of regret and truth Make my heart dance In these revolutionary days, I Always want to stay with you!

I feel like I don't need to explain the reason behind this choice on the account of it sounding like a Badass Ikemen Quartet and the HYSTERICAL amount of MegOP in. If you want men enthusiatically belting out Gay Subtext devotion-in-love-and-friendship rock type themes, Saiyuki's been doing that since the early 2000s. This theme is so Barricade Boys I'm slapping it on any modern iteration of Les Amis de l'ABC. (Also I have Lambros on my mind and it WILL NOT STOP just imagine them, Hotrod and Bee on vocals)

SEASON 2 Ending: Uso by SID (FMA Brotherhood)

Say, the sky we saw that day, That scarlet sky Do you remember it from that day? We made a promise and a vow While the early summer wind circled us And we clung close together Your forced smile Holds elongated shadows I pretend not to notice and continue on All the while waiting for you To deliver some news at the table Empty nights and mornings that will never arrive I could see them from a mile away Say, the sky we saw that day, That scarlet sky I'm sure you'll remember it one day While holding the promise we couldn't keep We take our first steps down out own paths

A narrative follow-up from the blow-out between the Rebellion in Season One, who are now divided into the Decepticons and the Autobots. Do you remember our promise and what we fought for? I'm sure you will some day, says OP, even as we walk different paths now.

SEASON 3: Ending: Mind Game by Tamaki (Tiger & Bunny)

I daydreamed in a corner Of the city stained ash-gray And somehow I started pondering My raison d'etre But I never know myself & dreams & truth anymore, anymore… more… In this wretched world, I asked myself, "Just what can I do?" Because I got the feeling that your smile taught me that Pain like discovering the light touched me: Yes, that's the feeling I got In order to attain an ephemeral dream by their own hands, All people lose sight of even eternal truth The one who gave light to the indelible, sad tomorrow Was none other than just one (I want to believe) We can share both the past and the future, always!

Rung (Past) and Sari (Future). Also fourth stanza is very Sari to Isaac. Also Drift/Ratchet, as Drift defects to the Autobots this season.

SEASON 4 Ending: Every Heart by BOA (Inuyasha)

Tell me babe How many times I've shed my tears? Every heart Every heart is not a gentle one Why can't I I can never share my loneliness? Every heart doesn't know what to say or what to do Was afraid of darkness cause I felt like I was left alone So I prayed for help to a distant million stars Round and round the planets revolve around the sun And they always seek after love and peace forever more Growing, growing whoa baby we can work it out Look up at the sky, every heart is shining on today

'Every heart is not a gentle one' feat. Sunstreaker/Sideswipe's blowout, Windblade and Starscream's sort-of-relationshing angst (as Starscream tries and fails to show her that the man she believes still lives inside him---that hopeful senator from the past---is dead, when he UGH falls into the trap of being a Decent Man)

Also a lonely LONELY season feat. Mirage with Hound Missing and his Ironhide-induced crisis.

Last stanza hitting the 'Autobots rebuilding On Griffin Rock And Finding Reasons To Hope For Tomorrow Even As It Gets Ever Harder' mood.

SEASON 5 Ending: Alone by Mikuni Shimokawa (Gensomaden Saiyuki)

All of the people coming and going Bear heavy burdens, Searching for tomorrow Within the heat haze wavering in the distance Feelings like sand Falling through my hands… Back then, the words that pierced my heart Suddenly started to throb with pain, but… I've searched for pieces of myself, counting the endless nights all the while. These feelings are becoming so certain I almost lose myself Right now, without fail I will walk forward However far

Because I REALLY wanted to end on this BEAUTIFUL note and it's my series kfhsdgfjsdgfjsfh but seriously:

First stanza encapsulates how the war has affected everyone, Decepticons and Autobots alive, who are now working together and genuinely had always wanted a better tomorrow for everyone.

"I've searched for pieces of myself" stanza, like literally 85% of the cast is in goddamn pieces at the moment and are holding on by their Nakama Thread. It's everyone--Megatron, Mirage, Starscream, OP himself, RUNG, the Lambros, Drift, YOU NAME IT.

This version of the song will be used over the finale itself which will show rebuilding efforts/how the cast is doing post-war. Stuff covered will be, among others:

Sideswipe waking up from his coma and his garbled proposal to Strongarm

Windblade visiting Starscream in prison as she tries to comfort Starscream who's messy snotty crying in happiness that she finally managed to pass a bill to outlaw the creation of new CCs so no child will ever go through what he went through.

OP reading/writing with Megs who's in prison.

Laserbeak and Soundwave helping Ravage with his physical therapy as he slowly regains use of his legs.

Wreckers and Springer visiting Kup's grave with Dakshi who is now Springer's dog.

Hound introducing Mirage to his parents

Prowl front row at Jazz's concert.

Bee and Co finally get their degrees.

Lightbright exploring the universe with her new Titan

A decorated mural of the Autobots and Decepticons who died in the final battle against Unicron.

#Inbox #Humanformers AU #TTB

[tf2-oneshots]

I need to read scout being eaten alive by his intrusive thoughts that tell his to go up to heavy and slap his bald head because in his mind it would probably make a nice meaty sound. Will he resist temptation or will he give in and probably die a horrible death? This my friend is up to you to decide.

Oh god. The temptation…

Warning: none!

Rating: General

When you’re the new guy at work, you wanna make a good first impression. A really good first impression when your job involves killing people all day. Scout is absolutely certain that everyone admires his muscular body and “rock hard” abs. That’s not even counting his utterly incredible, loving personality that makes Spy wish he was Scout. Suffice to say, Scout thinks he’s the best guy in town.

Since starting his job, he’s been plagued by a single thought. One really, really stupid one that doesn’t even make sense. Everyday, he sees Heavy’s bald head, and everyday, he fights the urge to smack it. Just giving it a good slap to hear what it sounds like. It’s driving him mad!

Scout has only worked for the scary purple milf for two weeks now. Nowhere near long enough to familiarize himself with everyone let alone build any sort of trust. Except maybe Pyro. They like coloring in his sketches. Aside from them, he’s practically a stranger to everyone including Heavy.

The temptation remains. Every night, he imagines how it would play out. In his delusional mind, everyone laughs and moves on. In his realistic mind, Heavy throttles him. Scout really hopes his delusional mind is right this time.

A week goes by, and he’s still thinking about it. Scout sits at the dining room table with a half empty bowl of cereal. He already ate the good parts leaving soggy boring bits to float around. He tries to choke them down, mind buzzing with that stupid idea. He has to do it. Its the only way to get it out of his head.

Milk gulped down and bowl set in the dishwasher, Scout quietly enters the common room. Heavy always reads after breakfast, and here he is with another book. Scout doesn’t bother peeking. All he cares about is slapping that bald ass head.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he creeps behind the giant. With seven older brothers, you learn how to sneak up on a guy. Its the only way to get any of the good snacks before they’re gone. His only hope is to outrun Heavy’s fist.

Hand raised, careful not to cast a shadow (that’s how his brothers used to catch him), Scout lands a resounding SMACK to Heavy’s head. As he turns to run, a massive fist reaches out and grips his shoulder. Scout is flung over the couch, crashing straight through the coffee table. The pile of cracked wood stabs Scout uncomfortably as he groans.

“How’d you get me so fast, dude?” Scout doesn’t bother moving. He sits in his shameful mess, trying to recover from what’s probably a fractured rib. Heavy places a bookmaker in his novel before shutting it. He leans forward to look down at Scout.

“Have little sisters. Be sneakier.” With that, he takes his leave. Scout sighs, looking at the ceiling while he waits for the pain to stop. At least he got his answer.

Hydrogen bomb vs coughing baby -H

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 requests #tf2 scout #tf2 heavy

[cadybear420]

Getting to know people better

Thanks to @peonierose, @tveitertotwrites, and @aces-and-angels for the tags!

Last song: I don't remember... I think the intro theme song to "From Russia With Love". That shit slaps.

Favorite color(s): Either purple, green, or black.

Currently watching: Nothing new. Mainly just YouTube video essays. Also rewatching some episodes of Garfield and Friends.

Last movie: In theaters: I think Oppenheimer? It was alright but I could not deal with that fucking theater seat for a 3 hour movie lol. At home: Everything Everywhere All At Once. It uh... quite surprised me. A bit of a fever dream, but it was mostly a fun one.

Currently reading: Books-wise: It's been a while since I read an actual book. I'm hoping to get back into it but I'm not sure what to start with. Choices-wise: I'm on my SEVENTH fucking replay of OG HSS, for the purpose of making a record of all the choices I make in the game so I can better construct my MC Evie's personality. And also so I can see Aiden again. I'm also diamond-mining The Billionaire's Baby, and I have a bunch of other books on hiatus.

Sweet/spicy/savory: Sweet and savory. I never liked spicy foods much despite being South Asian lol.

Last thing I Googled: "this is how terfs think skeletons work"

Current obsessions: OG HSS. I hate that even though I'm on my 7th playthrough, I've never made an actually different MC from Evie. I have tried Evie in a few different routes– I had her romance Michael in two playthroughs, do band in one playthrough, and I did a sort of a semi-"you suck" playthrough prior to the current one. But I've never actually played as a different MC, and there are so many different routes and route combos to try and SO LITTLE TIME ARRRGGGHH AND I ALSO PLAN TO DO MY SECOND PLAYTHROUGH OF HSS:CA SO I CAN GIVE IT A SECOND CHANCE AND MAKE HEADCANONS ABOUT WHAT THE OG GANG WAS UP TO DURING THAT TIME AND I ALSO HAVE PERSONAL SHIT IRL AGH- [cady.exe has stopped working] Sorry bout that, shit gets overwhelming

Currently working on: A timeline documentation of all the in-game choices for my HSS MCs Evie (OG) and Cher (CA). So I can better construct who they are as characters and other headcanons like what happens off-screen. I'm in the middle of writing a fanfic about that roller rink trip MC and Aiden go to with Aiden's parents in Book 2, it's going great so far but I'm stuck on how to end it.

i'll tag: Anyone who wants to participate

[its-the-cat-queen]

*flutters down on iridescent wings*

It is me! The Infodump Fairy! I have come to cast a spell upon you that will cause you to ramble for way too long about Trolls! Please, o’ talented one, tell me why this series has captivated you so!

(Ok but seriously I’ve seen your stuff for it (which fucking SLAPS btw) and this is a series I’ve never really been very interested in, so I’m very curious about what draws you to it! Only if you want to share, of course! As you can see, I am not a real fairy and my spells are fake lol)

Oh dear Infodump Fairy! Your spell is taking its effects!

Asfdhgd seriously though, believe me, I have no problem rambling about Trolls all day jvjfjhf. This is not gonna be very coherent, so sorry in advance. 😅 (Also, thank you, I'm so glad you like my work! <3)

Okay so. I've actually been here since the trailer for the first movie came out (I wasn't very active in the fandom back then, though). I was already invested from that moment on, specifically in the two main characters, Poppy and Branch, and their dynamic, who I took one look at and said, "yeah, I ship that" hfjhf. I think what mostly got to me was the characters, the designs, the fact that it's such a fun and colorful world, and of course, the music. The songs are so good! Like, all of them. Yes, they are mostly just covers of already popular songs with some word changes here and there, but my GOD, are they good covers! But anyway, love me a musical with fun characters! Personally, I think all of the characters have deeper issues about them than what you can see on the surface and what you would expect from a children's movie franchise. Like, Branch has so much trauma it really just feels like in every movie they are just trying to give him more and more problems hdkhdjd. Which of course, makes him a pretty compelling character altogether. Do other characters have as deep issues as him? Some of them. But like, they don't really have that much screentime, sadly. While Poppy and Branch are equally important characters in the first movie (and well, in all of the movies, imo), the second movie is what I would dub as "Poppy's Character Development - The Movie" jgkjfjfj. While the first movie operates with the whole "happiness is inside of all of us, we just need someone to help us find it" kinda message (which doesn't fully stick the landing but oh well), the second goes for stuff like differences, equality (of sorts), and tbh some kind of colonialism metaphor?? It also widens the world of trolls as we've known it, as we learn of other tribes of trolls, who are all connected through different kinds of music. So the whole worldbuilding here just makes things even more interesting.

Now the third movie. In the words of youtuber Mann of 1000 Thoughts, it "gives no fucks in all the right ways". Tbh the Trolls timeline has already been questionable, as is, with the Netflix tv shows that came out after the first and second movies, but this just throws another ranch in the system, and says fuck you to the timeline altogether jckbfh. Like, I managed to make it work once I dedicated a good half hour figuring out how Branch's secret long lost brothers who he was in a band with when he was a baby fit into the picture, but it's not perfect even then. There would definitely still be plotholes gkfhfgf. But at this point you just gotta turn your suspension of disbelief on and just go along with it, cuz it is SUCH a fun experience besides all that. (This goes for all the movies btw. Turn your brain off, you're gonna have a great time jfkhf.) Ngl this is the movie that really got me to jump right back into the fandom with full force, and now I'm back to thinking about all of the previous movies as well and appreciating all of the characters. Tbh when I watched the trailer for the third movie, I thought that the whole long lost brothers storyline was the worst idea they have ever come up with, and then I watched the movie and I was like, "fuck this is the best thing ever" gjfgdhd. Idk, we learn enough about Branch's brothers for them to be compelling characters of their own, while we also have a 20 year old gap in which we can pretty much imagine anything into, cuz we don't actually know all the details about how they got to where they are today after the band broke up. Idk, it's like a sandbox you can play in. And that is so much fun. Also, yeah. The music in the third movie also SLAPS! I listened to the soundtrack on loop for a week after watching it jfkhfh.

The humor is also great in all of the movies, in my opinion. I think my humor operates on Trolls standards at this point, which everyone can decide for themselves if it is good or not hkfjfj. I'm having fun so that's all that matters to me.

But yeah, it's just. Idk. It's difficult to pinpoint something very specific that lured me in. Although, I did mention quite some stuff altogether jfkjjf. It's all about the experience for me. The movies are just filled with so much energy, which I love, and they are, in my opinion, the perfect combination of that energy and emotional impact. Are they perfect movies? Absolutely not. But I'm enjoying myself immensely while watching them, and that's l that matters. Soooo yeah. That's about it for now, I've already been talking too long hkfhfjf

Hope some of this made sense, at least jkfjfj. Thank you for the ask <3 You sadly had no idea about the beast you would unleash fjdgdhd.

#ask #buttercup bs

[the-acid-pear]

I remember my dream today for once. Or parts. Since as far as I can remember it started with me going to Brazil (help!). Dream Brazil was fun, I saw a jungle in the beach, I saw mean fucking sea cows that tried to slap me. There also was an unknown pair riding a uh, a cuatri that little 4 wheel machine, and taking selfies with a beautiful (average tbh) blonde woman w big sunglasses. After the sea cow tried to punch me (they were outside the water btw so maybe they were just seals? Then again this was Brazil so idk) we came across a sort of japanese settlement were I saw the best creature of my dreams: the one handed tiger. These mfs looked low poly, like if a guy put on a tiger custome but instead of it being a fursuit or something it was just those flat cloths covering your whole body. They were also very fucking goofy (one did the nya hand at me when I looked at it with utter shock) and bipedal. I really thought that was just some guy trolling but a guide called them one hand tigers and then I saw there were a lot of thems so I had to accept it.

We kept going past the tigers and some other strange fauna. Worth mentioning this setting was a lot more... japanese, aesthetically. Less trees, more empty espace, cooler colors, there was wind.

We eventually made it to a cave full of fish and these were some of the most bizarre fish ever. The guide was explaining us that at night this fish pond (like a fucking jacuzzi made out of stone) becomes more like a cabaret as more bipedal but non the less bizarre and coloful and bright fishes started walking in. I swear to God one was orange and had red big lips and slutty eyes but in the most low poly weird style ever.

We couldn't take picture which was upsetting because I apparently was doing a fish collection like the Sims. However what was truly upsetting was just being there, for it was making me extremely uncomfortable.

I was fixated on a green little fish, bright green, with a hit of yellow, like a neon green apple color, only normal mf still in the pond, but I was getting too anxious so I tried to leave but I stumbled into someone or something and everyone realized and they were like "are you trying to leave? 😦" so they all left with me. Without complaining too!

After that I went up a mountain and I ended up my grandma's old home and this is where we take a melancholy break since it was pretty sad. I was there with my grandpa and my dad. Not much happened. I walked around seeing the clouds and the beautiful sky. I thought of telling my dad we'd stay to eat, but I didn't.

I remember now, before this, I was walking around, someone on a mule saw me. We were chatting, or perhaps I just thought we were. Maybe we were just each talking to ourselves. I really tried to keep my shit together but I eventually collapsed crying, finishing the sentence I'd been trying to say, saying that my grandma was a huge hater but nobody forgave like her. I don't know why I was seeking forgiveness but I was desperate.

Back to the house though, at some point we heard a sound from the distance that sounded just like my grandma's laugh as my dad and I sat outside and we locked eyes for a second and we knew we both had imagined the same and one of us said how missed she is and I broke down crying.

AND THIS IS WHERE THE MELANCHOLY STOPS because as I was crying my nose just started fucking bleeding and I started trying to picture from where the blood was falling for a while but I guess that's just because I was soon to wake up.

Someone who I follow but is not my mutual (mutual in law?) just happened to be close by DRAWING SOUTH PARK FANART out of all things and she saw me and maybe I asked for help or maybe she simply was like 😬 and decided to help this pathetic bleeding animal but for some reason the solution was to tie my arms behind my back bondage style. I remember being like "are you sure this is going to work?" and her reassuring like "don't worry".

I did finally wake up after that.

#luly talks #my dreams

[fillycolt]

15 mutuals 15 questions

thank you for tagging me @skelkankaos :3 :3 :3

1. Are you named after anyone? ... unfortunately yes. queen elizabeth. my mum's family has been naming their kids that way for like 3 generations and the name aside from that has a lot of importance to me so i kept it

2. When was the last time you cried? i don't know, probably last week?

3. Do you have kids? no but i consider my pets my children (not in the annoying "i know what parenthood is like! i have a dog" thing but bc i love them very very much and i feel strongly like a mum to them etc)

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? not super i think?? i mostly tag along if someone uses sarcasm but i sometimes do myself. i prefer when sarcasm is either obvious in that it's suuuuper clearly exaggerated or when it's just completely nonsensical and probably only funny to me so i dont do it much organically

5. What sports do you play/have played? i never like, got on a team for anything, or did anything outside of gym glass, but i liked badminton. oh and in grade 4 i went to my school district's like cross country running thingy and i got in 101st place. one of the only non seizure/basically toxic shock syndrome related times i've fainted was next year's tryouts when it was too hot with a jacket but too cold without and i ran with a jacket on. oh and um i've played bloodbowl a couple times but also was never in a league but like i was gonna be

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people? their fashion probably

7. What’s your eye color? green and orange :3

8. Scary movies or happy endings? of the two i guess scary movies

9. Any special talents? i'm like, really good at controlling my experiences while high. i can write pretty good stories and shit. i can make any outfit work

10. Where were you born? ottawa

11. What are your hobbies? writing, making weird art, making and listening to music, playing video games, collecting my Collections

12. Do you have pets? I DO i love to talk about them. lentug is my beautiful snake daughter, she is a ball python, she is about a year old now but i celebrate my pets' birthdays as the day i got them and it hasnt been that long yet. shes so sweet and loves getting water poured on her and shes SUCH a good eater. then theres gawi, my precious guinea pig daughter who is a sweet little angel baby with me and licks instead of biting and has Big Feelings and Issues and Particularities but she is a bully to the others just a little bit. then dr pepper, who just turned a year old recently also and is a weird little freak of a guinea pig. she's a himalayan rex so she's albino, colorpoint, and has weird curly/frizzy fur and she bites to maim and she's SO fucking tiny even though she was the biggest of the litter and from two of the biggest guinea pig breeds. then there's my new little beasts: bobo, my old lady guinea pig who is all rumpled and so sweet and soft and loves her cuddly houses, and caramel, my even weirder freak naked beast of a guinea pig, whose ears slap when she shakes her head.

13. How tall are you? 5′5 since i was 11 or 12 lol

14. Favorite subject in school? english til high school then nothing bc i hated being there

15. Dream job? if i could publish my books and get like crazy famous without having to jeopardize my odsp til i'm solidly able to keep myself afloat for the indefinite future/at least longer than a few months so i can get back on odsp if needed... and i can use my money to travel across north america to write about weird little towns in different places... and to other places in the world to try all sorts of regional fruits and vegetables and snacks and do youtube videos about them. yeah that's it

tagging @thing2taste @1011100010 @shadowtouched @indicabutch @pranaferox444 @unseelie @rcris123 @xxm0nstrrrk1dxx @groblinboy @agatke @mothernatureslonelyson @wizardkins @07170 @forestsecretshack @solar-satan

#thoughts.txt