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#or Kirby crackle
albertonavajoart · 1 year
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Silver Surfer Commission 2023
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sangekis-shit · 5 months
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I really like Ultron, especially Tom Kanes performances. Ignore I totally forgot to draw his other hand
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rob-demers-art · 2 years
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Extra-dimensional creatures are breaking into our reality through my first ever transparent sticker! 
Order one here: https://robdemersart.com/shop/dimensional-portal-transparent-stickers/
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faeriecap · 2 years
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ok but the kirby crackle at avengers campus looks like a delicious forbidden fruit punch….. imagineers are so fucking extra
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slxsherr · 11 months
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Bizarre Love Triangle
part II of Feeling Like I Never Should
pairing: kirby reed x fem!reader x charlie walker
summary: kirby is so much more than just your best friend.
wc: 1661
warnings: fem!reader, cursing/swearing, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of alcohol, degradation, praise, ffm threesome (?), oral (m! receiving), thigh riding, throuple
a/n: sorry this took so long please enjoy!!!
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Kirby is your best friend, but recently she’s realized she likes you more than a friend should. She’s been avoiding you and Charlie, too afraid to make things weird between the three of you, unknowingly making things weirder. 
“Honey! I’m home!” Kirby calls as she enters your house, drunk off her ass after another lame party. 
But you’re not anywhere to be found. Your house is usually empty, your parents aren’t home much, but usually you’re on the couch watching something. Since she’s met you, your house has been her home away from home.
Tired and drunk, she makes her way to your room. You’re not there either, and she quickly scrolls through her contacts to find your number. She puts you on speaker, clumsily taking off her clothes to crawl into your bed. 
“Hello?” Your tired voice crackles over the line. 
“Where are you?” Kirby asks, her voice whinier than intended. 
“I’m at Charlie’s. Why?” Your voice a whisper now. 
“Because you’re not home and I just left a party,” she answers, patting the empty space beside her where your body usually is. 
“Are you at my house?”
“Yes, I miss you.” 
“I miss you too, I’ll be home tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, I love you,” she says, turning over to face away from the empty space in your bed. 
“I love you too,” you say, hanging up. 
You don’t get home as early as you thought you would. Charlie kept you longer than you anticipated, and by the time you get home, Kirby is already gone. She doesn’t answer your texts until after you get out of the shower, letting you know you can come over.
Just like Kirby feels comfortable waltzing into your house unannounced, you walk into hers using a spare key she gave you. Her parents are at home about as much as yours are, which isn’t much. Probably why the two of you gravitate towards each other so much.
“Kirby?” You call, making your way towards her room. 
“Yeah?” She answers from her bed. 
“How are you feeling?” You ask, joining her on the bed. 
“Mm, not great,” she says, which you expected since she forgets to drink water and take aspirin after drinking. 
“That’s what you get, party animal,” you tease, wrapping your arms around her when she moves to embrace you. 
“If Charlie didn’t steal you away from me I wouldn’t be hurting so much,” she says, her serious tone revealing the underlying meaning. 
“Don’t blame him,” you say, and she can hear the frown in your voice. 
“Has he even taken you out on a date?” She asks, holding you tighter to her. 
“Yes, he took me to see Paranormal Activity 3,” you answer matter-of-factly. 
“How romantic,” she remarks sarcastically. 
“If you’re just gonna insult my boyfriend–” you begin to say. 
“Your boyfriend?” Kirby interrupts you, surprised by the label. 
“I’m leaving,” you say, moving out of her hold and off the bed. 
“No, don’t leave,” she says, moving after you. 
“No, Kirby. You don’t get to ignore me and Charlie after a night like that, then call me drunk because you showed up to my house and for once I wasn’t there,” you say, leaving her room before she can respond. 
Charlie’s hair is soft, a surprise since you know for a fact the only products he uses are drugstore shampoo and conditioner. His head rests on your stomach, allowing you to play with his hair as the two of you watch some classics. The way he talks about the effects, the slasher backstories, and the behind the scenes stories reminds you of your movie nights with Kirby.
“Babe?” Charlie asks in a soft voice. 
“Hm?” You respond with a hum. 
“Are you tired? Wanna go to bed?” He asks, checking on you. 
“No, just spaced out a bit I guess,” you say, hands still messing with his hair.
“Have you talked to Kirby?” He asks, turning over so that he can face you. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs when you answer with a sour expression on your face. 
“I don’t get how she can be so dense,” you say with a sigh. 
“Love makes you stupid I guess,” he jokes. 
“Does that make me stupid?” You laugh. 
“Extremely,” he says, moving up to kiss you.
Charlie knows there’s something between you and Kirby, even before the intimate night the three of you shared. It confused him, because you treated him just as you treated Kirby, and Kirby treated him just like she treated you. It hurt both of you when she began to distance herself, and the two of you only had each other to turn to. 
Kirby hates that she can’t bring herself to make things right between you. She throws herself into Jill and Olivia’s bullshit, hoping their mundane, heteronormative boy troubles will distract her from you and Charlie. But she still can’t bring herself to skip Stab-A-Thon. Olivia, and Jill and Trevor are going anyway, it’d be weird if she didn’t go too. 
It’s a big turnout, the most popular Cinema Club event of the year, crowds of intoxicated teens waiting for the movies to start. She watches you and Charlie throughout the night, following the two of you up to the hayloft towards the end of the first movie. After some liquid courage, she feels brave enough to confront the two of you. 
She’s not sure why she expected something different, following you both to the somewhat secluded space. But she didn’t expect to see you on your knees with Charlie’s cock down your throat. Her body moves before she realizes, mouth speaking words she hadn’t even thought. 
“You are such a slut,” she says, her hand landing on Charlie’s shoulder as she stops beside the two of you, startling you both. “Oh, don’t stop on my account,” she says when your head stops bobbing. “Keep going, good girl,” she praises, her hand moving to the back of your head to set a rhythm for you. 
“You know, you’re really lucky Charlie,” Kirby says, her grip tightening on his shoulder. “Most guys’ don’t have such easy cocksluts for a girlfriend, barely ever get blowjobs,” she says over his whimpers, moving your head faster.
“She’s not a slut,” he says, voice breathy as Kirby continues to move your mouth on him like a toy. 
“Aw, that’s sweet,” she coos, meeting your teary eyes. “But just look at her,” she says, turning his head down to watch the drool spill out the sides of your mouth and onto your exposed cleavage, his eyes trailing lower to see the hand not holding his thigh under your skirt, touching yourself over your panties. 
“Fuck,” Charlie whines, throwing his head back in pleasure. 
“You gonna cum?” Kirby asks, taunting him. 
“Uh-huh,” he moans, hands grabbing your head as Kirby continues controlling your movements.
“Go ahead, cum down her throat. Make her swallow it all,” she says, holding your head still as his hips move on their own, chasing his release. 
Tears stream down your face as you gag around his cock, the tip bruising the back of your throat, nails scratching his thighs from the force. You do your best to swallow it all, but some spills out the sides of your mouth, following the trail of drool down to your tits. Finally, they let you go, watching your pretty face relax from the facefuck you just received. 
“Pretty girl, come here,” Kirby instructs, patting her thigh as she sits on a bale of hay.
You crawl over to her on your hands and knees, too weak to stand. Charlie sits on the floor next to her, his head laying against the outside of her thigh, watching you straddle her thigh. She tucks the hem of your skirt into the waistband, exposing your damp panties. 
“Poor thing,” she says with faux sympathy, rocking your hips back and forth. “Bet you wish he was fucking your cunt instead.”
“Please!” You cry, holding onto her forearms when she bounces you on her thigh, your clit rubbing against the fabric of your panties and the denim of her jeans euphorically.
“Shh, don’t wanna get caught, do you?” She says, hands gripping your hips tighter to keep you moving at a steady rhythm. “Charlie, play with her tits,” she says, watching you bite your knuckles in an attempt to keep quiet.
“So beautiful,” he praises, pulling your top and bra down to expose your chest. “Fucking perfect,” he says, cupping your breasts, tweaking your nipples, and kneading the flesh. 
Your belly flares with heat, grinding your slick cunt against Kirby’s thigh in desperation. She’s moving your hips forcefully, holding you tighter as you attempt to move on your own as you approach your orgasm. Your hands cup her jawline gently, connecting your lips in a messy kiss as you reach your high, your moans muffled by her mouth. 
“Feel better?” She asks, watching your thighs twitch as you ride out your orgasm. 
“No,” you whine, dropping your head to avoid her gaze. 
“No?” She echoes your answer, surprised. 
“How can she feel better when you’re just gonna ignore us tomorrow?” Charlie asks, massaging your shaking legs. 
“I won’t–” Kirby begins to say. 
“If you just want to fool around, that’s fine,” you interrupt her. “But this will be the last time, because I love you and I can’t keep doing this if you expect there to be no strings attached.” 
“You love me? But you and Charlie–” she tries to say. 
“Think three’s a party,” Charlie interrupts her this time. 
“So, do you wanna be our girlfriend?” You ask, holding Charlie’s hand for reassurance. 
“Gladly,” she answers, wrapping her arms around you when you lunge forward to hug her. 
“Can I?” You ask, tracing the button of her jeans when you separate. 
“Sure,” she says, watching you strip her bottom half and settle between her thighs, Charlie slowly moving behind you.
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4cp · 2 months
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Kirby crackle, 1970s.
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A Sweatervest and Squeaky Shoes
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Gator Tillman x Kirby Rivers (OC)
[ Kirby's Bio ] [ Part One ] [ Part Two ]
♤ Summary: Kirby sneaks into the hospital to see Gator after everything that happens at the ranch.
♤ Warnings: canon x oc paring, nonbinary/trans oc, oc uses he/they pronouns, mentions of Gators torture, blind Gator
♤ A/N: once again for you my dearest! @jozstankovich 💚 Reblogs and comments are cherished and loved! 💖🍒💖
♤♤♤♤
Kirby's shoes squeak against the shiny hospital floor, he winces, runs his hands down his front for the millionth time since he left home. They feel ridiculous, a fucking sweatervest over the one, semi nice, t-shirt they have. He huffs, takes a deep breath, and ducks into the elevator.
It hadn't been hard to find out Gator's floor and room number. All the FBI agents milling about weren't exactly quiet. The issue would be getting into the room.
Kirby's fingers drum against his pant leg, his only nice pants as well. Black jeans, a little baggy, but they looked nice with the outfit. He tugs at the neckline of his shirt, uncomfortable, always are when they're wearing so many fucking clothes.
The doors slide open and Kirby pops his head out first. Checking both ways like he's crossing the street. Nobody there. Not a nurse or doctor in sight. He steps out, aims for casual as he walks down the hall, following the signs to the room number he'd overheard.
The nurses station is empty as well. The first person he sees is the gaurd on the door when he peeks around the corner. Kirby drops their head against the wall.
"Fuck." He breathes, his eyes move down the hall and land on the still empty nurses station. He runs back to it, hears footsteps behind him and ducks behind the desk.
He watches the guard walk around the corner and down the hall they'd come from.
"I'm headin down now." The man says into the radio on his shoulder. The radio crackles, Kirby doesn't understand what's said, but hears the man's response.
"Oh who cares if the door isn't guarded for ten fuckin minutes. Where's he gonna go? He's can't fuckin see. He ain't goin anywhere. I'm comin down." He's annoyed, Kirby hears the elevator doors open, and then close. They shoot back to their feet and run, their shoes squeaking the whole way. He rounds the corner too fast and nearly falls, runs into the wall and rights himself before jogging the last few steps to the door.
"Ten minutes." Kirby whispers to himself, rests his hand on the doorknob, just now realizing it might be locked. His heart pounding in his chest, he rests his head against the door, digs his teeth into his lip, and presses down.
The handle moves. Kirby nearly yells in celebration but hunches his shoulders and holds it in, pushes the door open the smallest possible amount, and quietly ducks inside. He turns once he's in, rests his back against the door, tries to catch his breath.
But his eyes adjust to the dark quickly, and he sees the curain pulled around the bed. His stomach twists, his heart kicking back up again. Their hands are sweating, they wipe them on their pants and take a few small, squeaky, steps forward.
"Who's there?" Gator's voice. He sounds scared, Kirby hears rustling as he moves on the hospital bed.
"It's me." Kirby says, his voice small to his own ears, and he realizes that might not be enough.
"K-Kirby?" His voice falters and shakes and it pulls Kirby forward. They move fast, ducking under the curtain, nearly getting tangled when they stand back up. His hands find the foot of Gator's bed and he pulls himself up, swats at the curtain until it falls away from his shoulders and then he turns.
Gator's eyes are covered, bright white bandages wrapped around his head. His hair is no longer neat and slicked back, strands falling into his face where they've come loose. There's dirt, and blood, Kirby's sure, staining the skin of his face and hands.
Kirby hears the whimper that leaves him, his hands clutching his stomach as he takes a few steps around the bed. Gator's head turns with the sounds of his shoes. And seriously what the fuck was on his shoes that was making them do that?
"Yeah." Kirby finally says,
"It's me." Their voice soft. Gator listens to the last few steps, and then hangs his head.
"How'd you get in here?" He asks, his fingers, dirty and bloodstained around the nails, pick at the sheets. Kirby swallows, hard, wipes at the tears falling over his cheeks.
"I uh," he clears his throat, tries again,
"I snuck past the guard. He went downstairs. Someone else is comin up I guess. Ten minutes." He repeats the time again, glances at the door, has no idea how long it's been. Gator nods, slowly.
"You'll be in trouble if they catch you in here." He's frowning, Kirby can see his eyebrows drawing down, pressing into the bandages.
"I've been in trouble before." Kirby says, teeth worrying into his lip, their hand twitches toward Gator, fingers jumping and dancing near his leg.
"Not this kinda trouble." Gator says, turns his head away, stubborn as always. Kirby huffs, grabs the chair by the bed and drags it loudly across the floor, scoots it close to Gator's bed and throws himself into it.
"I don't care! Gator. I just-" he sniffles, wipes at his face again.
"I saw the ranch on the news. They said people were dead." Kirby bites at the last word, takes a deep shaking breath he knows Gator can hear. Gator drops his head back onto the pillow behind him.
"I'm not dead." He sighs, fingers twitching on the bed sheets, and Kirby can't take it, he reaches out and grabs Gator's hand, presses his palm flat over the back of it, curls his fingers under and holds on. The rough material of the cast presses deep into his skin, he doesn't care, barely feels it. Just feels the skin underneath.
"I can see that. And I knew that. They said- they said you gave him up. Roy. On the news. They said a lot of other stuff. But I didn't really hear it." He cleared his throat again, another sniffle.
"Are you cryin?" Gator asks, his hand pressing up into Kirby's.
"No." Kirby denys immediately, watches the corner of Gator's mouth twitch.
"Shut up." He says, squeezes Gator's hand.
"I'm okay." Gator whispers it, turns his hand under Kirby's and slides his fingers between theirs, the best he can.
"Are you? What happened? Did your dad do this to you?" Kirby sniffles again, drags his free hand under his nose and keeps his eyes on Gator's face. He shakes his head slowly, his messy hair bunching up against the pillow.
"Not him. Same guy who did this." He wiggles his arm genlty, his hand clenching Kirby's as he moves it.
"Wh- I don't- why?" Kirby stammers, hates when he does that. Scrunches his face up at the bad memories of stammering through school, and rubs at his eye, pushing his knuckle deep for a distraction.
"Cuz I fucked up. I couldn't let it go." His lip wobbles, Kirby watches him pull it between his teeth and slam his head back into the pillow, once, hard.
"Hey! Don't. Just- don't do that." Kirby's on his feet now, his hand on Gator's head, moving some of his hair away from his face.
"I'm so fuckin stupid. I just couldn't let it go. And he fucking left me there. He just left me." His voice is strained now, Kirby can see his throat clenching. They bite their own lip, watching Gator's face, can he cry like that? Is there even anything behind the bandages to cry.
Kirby swallows around the fire in their throat and leans down, tucks their head against Gator's neck. He feels Gator's arms move around him slowly. His cast hard against their back, his other hand on their shoulder, gentle, moving slow, so he doesn't dislodge the IV in his hand.
"You're not stupid. You're just- so fucking stubborn Gate." Kirby sniffles again, rubs his tears and his nose on Gator's shoulder and pulls back. Gator's hand moves down his arm as they pull away, not wanting to stop touching him. Kirby doesn't ask who left him. Doesn't need to.
Kirby sees the small smile fade as Gator sits there. They move their fingers over his forhead, then along the bottom of the bandages. Kirby cups his face, smiles when Gator leans into the touch.
"Thanks for comin to see me." He mumbles, his casted hand moving to cover Kirby's, genlty, pulling it away from his face. He rests their tangled hands on the bed again as Kirby sits back down.
"Wild dogs couldn't have kept me away." Kirby sniffles again, but his chest feels lighter, with Gator in front of him, awake. Alive.
"What about a room full of spiders?" Gator asks, his finger pressing into Kirby's palm, just feeling him, touching him.
"Oh fuck that. You would'a been on your own sir." Kirby tells him, matter of fact. The laugh that bursts out of Gator makes Kirby smile so big his cheeks burn, tears falling again as Gator snorts and rubs at his nose carefully, shaking his head gently.
"Gee thanks." He says, voice flat.
"Hey. I got past the wild dogs man. Okay? I tried. I did my best." Kirby teases, bites his lip. Pulls Gator's hand to his mouth and kisses across his knuckles. His stomach fluttering when Gator presses his fingers into his lips, moves them up to his cheek, his thumb moving over Kirby's lips in their place.
"Seriously." Gator says, his head leaning forward.
"Yeah. Anytime. Told you I'd be there for you." Kirby shrugs, knows Gator can't see it. It doesn't matter.
"Are you- will you be able to see? When those come off?" Kirby asks, they pull Gator's hand back down, resting on the bed again. Gator's fingers twitch in his hold, he sniffs loudly, his other hand moving to fiddle with the bottom of the bandages resting on his cheek.
"They don't know yet. Not for sure. Said my left eye looked promising. Whatever that means." He shrugs, leans his head back again, sighing deep in his chest.
"I think it's what they say when they mean it's better than nothing." Kirby shrugs too, their eyes glued to Gator's face, their fingers twitch against the bedding. Curiosity burning under the surface.
"What did he do? Exactly. To your eyes?" Kirby blurts,  cringes when Gator turns his head toward him slowly.
"Sorry. Don't- you don't have to- answer that. Sorry." Kirby frowns down into their lap, shaking their head at themselves.
"He heated a knife in a fire and cut my eyes out. Or... he tried too. Guess he missed the left one." Gator's voice is emotionless.
"Jesus christ. What- fuck." Kirby says, oh so eloquently. Gator snorts, nods.
"Yeah. That sums it up pretty well." He says, noding again, his mouth a tight line.
"I shouldn't have asked." Kirby says, voice quiet.
"You wouldn't be you if you didn't." He says, quiet, Kirby's head whips up, there's a small tilt to Gator's mouth, like he wants to smile. Hell, that is a smile for him.
"Yeah?" Kirby asks, smiling, feeling giddy. Gator's not mad. Not mad that he can't control his fucking mouth. Gator nods, gives Kirby's hand a squeeze.
"Wish I could see you." He sighs, head falling back again.
"Oh yeah? How come? I haven't changed much in three days." They tease, teeth digging into their lip. Their cheeks feeling warm at the thought, that Gator wants to see them.
"Just tryin to image the looks people gave you when you walked in." Gator muses, his head turning, toward Kirby, even though he can't see them.
"What do mean?" Kirby frowns.
"Your clothes aren't usually hospital appropriate, is all." He shrugs again. Kirby makes an offended noise in his throat.
"I have nice clothes ya know? I'm actually dressed quiet well, currently. Thank you very much." Kirby scoffs, yanks his hand away from Gator's and crosses his arms over his chest. He watches Gator smile, can tell he's doubtful, even without the normal look in his eyes.
"Oh yeah? What'er you wearing?" He asks, voice teasing already. Kirby looks down at himself, at the sweatervest he immediately regretted, and grimaced.
"Umm ya know what? That's not- that's neither here nor there. I'm here. With you. That's really all that matters." Kirby rambles, pats at Gator's hand. He chuckles, grabs for Kirby's hand and misses.
"Are you wearing something embarrassing?" Gator asks, smile on his face.
"You have to tell me if you are. I'm wounded. It's only fair." His hand reaches toward Kirby. They scoff again, tucking their legs up under them on the chair.
"How's that fair? I didn't wound you!" He swats at Gator's hand gently as he laughs.
"C'mon. Tell me what you're wearing." Gator pushes, his voice all curled at the edges and sweet. Kirby sighs.
"Ughh. At least buy me dinner first." Kirby mutters, scrambling around in the chair til his knees are tucked up under his chin, Gator's eyebrow twitches up, clearly amused.
"I'm wearing a sweatervest okay? Do not laugh! It's from one of my foster moms and it's very cozy. Okay? So just, hush it." Kirby points at Gator, accusingly. Gator can't see it, but he raisies his hands in surrender anyway.
"What color is it?" Gator asks, biting his lip.
"It's like a blue grey color. With black and white argyle down the front?" Kirby looks down at himself, smoothes his hands down his chest again, his feet falling to the floor.
"What's- which ones argyle?" Gator asks, frowning.
"The diamonds." Kirby tells him. He nods, seems to think for a second.
"Is it soft?" He's worrying his lip between his teeth again.
"Yeah. Here." Kirby stands, walks the two steps to the bed and takes Gator's hand, moves it to rest on his stomach. Gator's brows twitch again, suprised at the softness against his skin.
"I got a black t-shirt on under it." Kirby mumbles, ignores the way Gator pressing his fingers into his stomach makes him feel hot. More hot than all the fucking clothes he's wearing.
"And just some black jeans. No holes or nothin in 'em." Kirby scratches at the back of their neck, watches Gator pull the materal of the vest between his fingers, then watches him smooth it back down. His hand presses to Kirby's stomach again and he ducks away with an awkward giggle, rubbing at the spot Gator's hand had touched.
"Sorry. Ticklish." Kirby explains, grabs at the chair and scoots it a bit closer, til his legs hit it and he falls into it.
"Figures." Gator sighs.
"What?" Kirby frowns.
"The one time I can't see you, you're actually wearing clothes." Gator shakes his head.
"I wear... clothes." Kirby drawls, knows it's only a half truth, really, at best. Gator snorts a laugh.
"Sure ya do. Pretty sure this the first time you've ever worn an actual shirt around me." Gator says, the eyeroll is implied.
"You got a problem with my clothes man?" Kirby asks, tucks one knee up under his chin, smiles when Gator moves his head toward him again.
"No. I'm just sayin, ya know, just my luck that I can't see ya when there's nothin to look at." Gator's fingers move nervously against the sheets, tapping out random little rhythms.
"I mean not that I was... lookin. I'm just- just sayin." He sighs deeply, turns his head away as his cheeks and neck turn red. Kirby bites their lip.
"I saw you looking Gator." Kirby says, through a smile, presses his lips to his knee when Gator turns back to him.
"What? When? I thought I was bein subtle." Gator scratches at his cheek, his fingers brushing the edge of the bandages again.
"You weren't. At all. Like, not even a little." Kirby shakes their head at him.
"I saw you looking like, the second time you came to me for weed dude. It's why I invited you inside." Kirby tells him, chin resting on his knee now, he sees Gator's eyebrows jump up his forehead.
"What did you- did you think somethin was gonna happen?" Gator asks, sounding scandalized. Kirby laughs, shakes his head.
"No. But I figured inviting you in might make you relax. Get your hands out of your pockets and your shoulders down from around your ears. You were so tense man." Kirby chuckles at the memory.
"I didn't know if it was because you were buying weed. Or because of me." They sigh.
"Saw you lookin and figured maybe it was cuz of me. Or maybe it was both. Either way, inside was away from prying eyes." Kirby shrugs, reaches out and takes Gator's hand again.
"I didn't mind you looking. Just- wasn't sure what you were thinkin when you were." They squeeze Gator's hand, he squeezes back.
"I wasn't sure at first. I mean I wasn't- that's not something- that's allowed. In my house." Gator shakes his head. Kirby nods.
"I know. That's why I never did anything. Or said anything. I figured- if you wanted to do something about it, I'd just let you." Kirby turns Gator's hand in his, his fingers walking over the cast, moving to his arm and up his shoulder.
"Let you go at your own pace. Find your own way." Kirby scratches at Gator's shoulder and then drags his hand back down his arm, Gator sighs, leans into the touch.
"I'm just glad I figured it out." Gator mumbles, rubs at his nose.
"Glad I was brave enough to do somethin about it. That night. After the lake." Gator smiles, his body relaxing into his bed more.
"Me too." Kirby smiles, watches Gator for a moment.
"I should go. Let you get some rest. Are they- are they taking you away?" He'd been afraid to ask, his voice shaking a little, his heart picking up again.
"Yeah. Don't know how long. But my step mom. Or- my old step mom. Nadine. Or- she's goes by Dorthy now. Dot. She's- she said she'd visit. Bring me cookies. Anything else I need too." Gator shrugs, tries to play it off. Kirby sees his chest flutter, watches his lip wobble.
"I'll come visit too. Everyday if you want? I'll visit so much you'll get sick'a me." Kirby perks up, scoots forward in his chair, perched on the edge like a bird. Gator frowns, his hand going still in Kirby's.
"You'd come visit?" He sounds uncertain, like he thinks it might be a trick.
"Course I would. Snuck in here to see ya didn't I?" Kirby assures him, watches Gator's lip tremble again before he drags his teeth over it, he nods, swallows hard.
"Okay. Th-thanks." Gator stammers, Kirby opens their mouth to answer but the door clicking open cuts him off. Gator squeezes his hand, hard, Kirby's eyes are locked on where the door would be if there was no curtain.
"Shit." He breathes, barely makes a sound.
"Don't you worry. I won't be a minute." A woman's voice says, high and thick with that accent Kirby's come to enjoy so much. He moves his eyes to Gator when he loosens his grip. The door clicks shut again. Footsteps, coming toward them. The curtain pulls to the left and brings them face to face with a small mousy woman. Her eyes widen when they land on Kirby.
"Oh. Hey there." She says, easy, her suprise fading fast. She glances at the door, then back to Kirby.
"You sneak in during the shift change?" She asks, voice lowered. Kirby swallows, nods, too frightened to speak. She nods back, gives him an adorable smile.
"That was my plan too if they wouldn't let me in." She scrunches her face, her eyes land on Kirby and Gator's hands, their fingers still laced together, Kirby pulls their hand free quickly, shoves both hands into his lap.
"You a friend'a Gator's?" She asks, sweetly, as she moves around the other side of the bed.
"This is Kirby Na- sorry. Dorthy." Gator grimaces at his mistake. The woman doesn't seem to notice, just smiles at him, and then at Kirby, her hand moving to Gator's head, fingers dragging smoothly through his hair.
"It's a pleasure to meet ya Kirby. I'm Dorthy. Gator's... Gator's friend too." She hesitates, her eyes dropping to Gator's face and then back to Kirby.
"I saw you on the news ma'am." Kirby says, manners from a foster home long gone kicking in. She smiles at him again, and it's soft, and warm, and feels safe.
"Oh yeah? I'm sure I looked a mess." She shakes her head, laughs a little.
"You looked fine. Looked nice. Just- looked like a mom." Kirby shrugs, and she had. She'd looked a little rough around the edges, but ultimately, she'd looked like a mom, trying to get back to her kid.
"Well that's sweet of ya to say." She waves him off, looks back to Gator, her hand still in his hair.
"There gonna be takin him in about ten minutes. I just wanted to say goodbye. Til I see ya again." She leans down, kisses Gator's forhead. He smiles, nods, his teeth embedded in his lip so hard Kirby's worried it'll bleed. He's trying not to cry. Can't speak because of it.
"If you give me five minutes I'll distract 'em so you can sneak out. If ya want?" She's looking at Kirby again. He stares, doesn't mean to, but she's... odd. In a good way. Like she understands things, sees things the way Kirby does sometimes.
"Okay. I mean yeah that'd be- thanks." Kirby nods. She nods back, kisses Gator's head one more time, walks around the bed to Kirby.
"It's very nice to meet you Kirby." There's a weight to her words that Kirby feels deep in his chest. She doesn't know him, doesn't know them at all, but she means it. Kirby reaches out, takes her hand, shakes.
"You too ma'am. Really." He stands, she smiles, tugs him into a quick hug, just a tight squeeze, and then she's gone. The door shutting slowly behind her. When Kirby turns back, Gator is reaching for him, casted hand outstretched. Kirby grabs it immediately, crowds close to him on the bed.
"You gotta go." Gator whispers, pulling Kirby's hand to his chest.
"I know. I don't wanna." Kirby breathes, his head dropped to Gator's shoulder.
"Will you do me a favor? Before you go?" Gator asks, his voice shaking, Kirby can feel him trembling.
"Of course. What is it?" They ask, leaning up so they can see him. Gator's head is turned towards him, if he could see, he wouldn't be looking quite at him, just off to the side.
"Will you kiss me?" He licks his lips.
"I mean like really kiss me. So I know what it's like? So I get to have that? With you. Before I go." His head droops, his shoulders shake, Kirby thinks he might be crying, best he can. They take a deep breathe, and reach out, cupping Gator's face and tilting it up again.
"I'll kiss you anytime you want." Kirby whispers, breathes it like a promise against Gator's lips and then kisses him. Slow and deep. Gator clings to him, both hands fisted in the back of his shirt, pulling them closer. He whines into Kirby's mouth and groans when he pulls away.
"Any time you want." He breathes again, teeth dragging over Gator's bottom lip as he pulls back. Gator chases his lips, leans forward and groans again when Kirby presses their hand to his chest, stopping him.
"I'm gonna miss you." Gator breathes, and it sounds broken, his voice wrecked.
"Naw, you won't. I'm gonna be there every day 'memeber?" He moves his hand up, from Gator's chest to his hair, moves his fingers into it, scratches them against Gator's scalp and smiles when he hums, presses into the touch.
"You'll be sick'a me in no time." Kirby leans down, presses another quick kiss to his lips. He sees Gator open his mouth, to argue, he's sure. When they hear a crash in the hall, voices yelling, moving away from the door.
"That's my cue. I'll see you soon Gate. Real soon." Kirby squeezes his shoulder and moves away, keeping his eyes on Gator til he's at the door. Gator's hand raises in a wave, his fingers wiggling over his cast as the other hand presses to his lips. Kirby smiles, tears falling down his cheeks, and ducks out the door.
He steps into chaos, Dorothy is down the hall a bit, laying on the floor, hand to her head. The gaurd on Gator's door and three nurses surround her. She meets his eyes through the guards legs and winks. He nods to her, still smiling, and bolts down the hall, his shoes screeching against the tiles as he runs and runs, ducking into the elevator and out of sight.
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poppetsisters · 2 months
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Concept art for what I'd want a live action Negative Zone to look like.
The key gimmick I wanted to explore was the idea that the world itself used inverted colors. The starry night sky is a blinding white with pitch black pinpoints for stars. The sun is a swallowing void over the horizon. It's a negative sky.
The sky's nebula is a result of sampling Jack Kirby's photostat backgrounds. In fact, you could say this concept art itself is a homage to Jack Kirby's use of collage art.
I emuated the look of Kirby Crackle by combining a smokey explosion with asteroids, not to dissimilar to what the inside of Galactus looked like in Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer.
Lastly, I applied chromatic abberation to make things feel out of focus while providing the sense of dizzying color.
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smallgodseries · 2 years
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[image description: An intense square-jawed fellow with a steely gaze and brushy grey hair wears a checked jacket and a turtleneck. Dots of energy crackle around him - half halo, half golden laurels. The edges of the piece are distressed and torn, but hanging in there. Text reads, “Issue 211, JACK KIRBY (written over JACOB KURTZBERG), the small god of SUPERHEROES”]
• • • • •
Yeah, they existed before he did.  Gilgamesh?  Hercules?  Merlin?  Superheroes, all of ‘em, all the way back to the beginning of storytelling.  It’s just FUN to tell stories about people who can break the laws the rest of us have to follow, the ones who are too strong or swift or smart or just plane super to be bound by ordinary rules.  So yeah, they’ve been around all the way back to the beginning, and they’re gonna be around long after the name “Jack Kirby” has faded into memory and whispered, nonsensical prayer.
But that time’s not now, and for the superheroes who snap into your mind’s eye when I say the word, he’s the man, he’s the god, he’s the guru good guy hand behind the pen, mind behind the motion.  He’s the one we thank and reference and remember, even when we don’t know it.
The superheroes we have today, they stand on a foundation of circus strongmen and masked vigilantes, of acrobats and sideshow performers, and Kirby did that.  He drew the lines, he chose the colors, he set the standard, and without him, we wouldn’t be here.
Oh, yeah, there were other hands at work, writers and idea-men, but at the end of the day, it’s the images that catch like a hook in our mind, colors that catch and keep the eye, symbolism that makes it all work.  A picture is worth a thousand words, and Kirby drew so many pictures that he outwrote Shakespeare by a solid country mile.  All those superheroes?  All those men of steel and women of shining glory?  He drew those for you, as a gift, and he set them into the world as a promise, and they watch over it still, for him, as a pledge.
He's doing his best.  He can’t do everything, but when he ascended to the pantheon, he just picked up his pen and kept on going, and he’s doing his best.
He always will be.
• • • • •
Join Lee Moyer (Icon) and Seanan McGuire (Story) Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for a guide to the many small deities who manage our modern world:
Tumblr: https://smallgodseries.tumblr.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/smallgodseries
Instagram: https://instagram.com/smallgodseries/
Homepage: http://smallgodseries.com
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I mean, if Bug Noire spread the Cataclysm Kirby Crackle along the cable of her yo-yo or over the surface of her Lucky Charms, or she disintegrated something and reintegrated it elsewhere, then it might be worth combining the powers. But the Unifications have never been about combining the powers, just having the Holder be able to use multiple powers individually. (The only difference was Dragonbug being able to half-and-half with Water Dragon so that she could still be corporeal while having a water dome.)
Yeah.......
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He calls on Jill's phone, because of course he does. Charlie was the one who tried to kill her, but Jill? Jill was the one that hurt. "Hello, Kirby. Nice to play this game again."
"Fuck off."
"So creative. You really should have been a writer. Let me guess, here's the part where you say, 'Let her go.'"
"No, this is the part where you die."
"Oh, Kirby, Kirby, Kirby. Is that any way to talk to the person giving you a chance to save your friend? You know the rules. Horror trivia. You win, Sam gets to see another day. You lose, she gets stuffed like a pin cushion. Round one. Sam's part of a family affair, so let's talk families. What's the name of the family in The Devil's Rejects?"
"The Fireflies."
"Very good. You came prepared.  Last House on the Left."
"Silos."
"Texas Chainsaw Massacre."
"Sawyers."
"You are a natural at this. Too bad your talents were wasted on someone who didn't appreciate them. Poor Charlie."
"You'll join him soon."
"Next question. In the Hellraiser franchise, what is the name of the Hell Priest --"
"Pinhead. Everyone knows that."
Silence over the other end. "Oh, Kirby. You should really be more patient. "If you had let me finish the question, you'd know that I wanted Elliott Spencer, the British soldier who became the Hell Priest."
"Wait, wait, wait. That shouldn't count. Ask me another question."
"Well, since you were so nice about it." Even through the voice modulator, there's a bite to Ghostface's voice. He's having too much fun with this. "Last question. What's your desert island band?"
"Tell somebody who gives a shit." Kirby hangs up, jams her phone back in her pocket, sprints towards Sam, but as she reaches out to undo the ropes, she freezes, incapable of crossing an invisible line. A burning phantom pain radiates by her hip.
The loudspeakers crackle on, and a modulated laugh resounds. "What do you think, Sam? Kirby here experiencing some deja vu? You should really deal with your trust issues."
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albertonavajoart · 1 year
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Silver Surfer Commission
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bahkonearth · 8 months
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I found a kirby crackle brush and a new inking brush and my life has been changed forever.
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deepdreamnights · 2 years
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The Evolutrix
In the deep dark of space, she sends forth her comets, laden with water, amino acids, and most importantly, possibility.
Midjourney AI Prompt:  the cosmic space goddess of evolution, beautiful digital painting in the style of Jack Kirby (1968), and don bluth, artstation, artgerm, beautiful features, sharp details, intricate detail, crackling energy, quirky expression
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zalrb · 1 year
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What are your thoughts on the chemistry between Vanessa Kirby and Matthew Goode as Margaret and Tony in season 2 of The Crown? I personally found their scenes engaging, and thought they were intense and played off each other well.
So, I never wanted to watch The Crown for various reasons but my mom watches The Crown so I ended up watching it with her but she started it late and before I watched it, on tumblr there were so many posts about Vanessa and Matthew's chemistry and how electric and sensual and raw it was and then I ended up watching the show and and was like ... they're fine? Like they're not bad but I don't think they're nearly as palpable as everyone makes them out to be, Matthew Goode was good as Tony and Vanessa Kirby was good as Margaret and when they're put together the acting could make their scenes relatively engaging but in terms of their chemistry bringing a scene to life? I don't think so.
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like I felt like I should've been getting a Vesper and Bond vibe
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and I just felt like it never quite reached the crackling nature it was supposed to.
Whereas Helena Bonham Carter and Ben Daniels I thought had the better chemistry,
At this point, Margaret and Tony aren't at the beginning of the relationship, sure, but they're the ones who have a knowing kind of simmer where I can see the passion just beneath whether it's sexual or contempt, they're the ones I found engaging because of their chemistry
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like even in their photoshoot
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For Vanessa, I thought her palpable chemistry was with Ben Miles
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intrapanelreturns · 1 year
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FANTASTIC FOUR #240 1982, Marvel Comics John Byrne and Terry Austin cover
I could go on for awhile about John Byrne’s run on Fantastic Four. I came to it early, not really having read too much of the old comics and really not appreciating the Lee/Kirby issues for what they did and how powerful they were. That said, I really love the first half of Byrne’s run. It crackled before it fizzled. This is one of the high points.
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