#nice to finally feel artistically inspired again!
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initial concept:
how it's going:
#pumpkin carving#got a big ass pumpkin for like $10 at the ~harvest festival~#now i'm making a design to carve into it#with a little help from a couple of stencils for the face and one of the hands#(other hand is p much traced from the cover of i'm in your mind fuzz by king gizzard lmao)#nice to finally feel artistically inspired again!#excited to start carving it and totally fuck it up and get really bummed out#oh! and to roast the seeds#🎃🎃🎃
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Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
wc: 10.1k
HEAVY TRIGGER WARNINGS: +18, suicide attempt, reader is suicidal, PAS (Physician Assisted Suicide), neglectful parents, weed and alcohol, feelings of loneliness, hurt/comfort (?), fluff, kissing, some mentions of nausea, smut implication, angst. So much angst.
Plot: Eddie was new to the group, and he connected with you after an unfortunate event. You were excited to finally put an end to your suffering, of all those years of feeling nothing, and you had made a list of things to do before going.
a/n: I cannot stress this enough, please, do not read if this will be triggering for you. If you read PAST the warnings, it is your own responsibility, and I will not hold myself accountable for it.
This is somewhat inspired by the movie and book Me Before You. So yeah, have fun.
Always reblog your artists, likes don't do much.
Please, Trust Me
Eddie came into the group a little bit late, so to speak.
He was assigned to do a project alongside Steve Harrington in Psychology class. College was just something Eddie wanted to focus on studying since he had a reputation of repeating his senior year two times in a row, but Steve was friendly. Eddie, well, he didn’t realize how badly he needed social interaction until then.
So Steve introduced him to his group. Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, and you. Now, Eddie got to know everyone, except yourself. As Nancy put it, you were in many extracurricular classes, so your time was limited. Eddie, of course, understood, but he also felt you were scared of him somehow. You always averted your gaze from him in the little moments you spent together, so he gave up on trying to talk further with you.
Holidays were approaching, and Eddie had the opportunity that his uncle was leaving the nice house he finally got to purchase near lover’s lake in Hawkins, his hometown, so he thought it would be a great idea to invite everyone over… Well, not everyone.
Since he thought you were scared of him, he believed the invitation would be rejected, but everyone else agreed to come over to his place. It was just a two-hour drive, and he couldn’t wait to get drunk and high with everyone else.
Robin told him that you didn’t have time anyway to assist, seeing that you were going to visit your mother for Christmas, so Eddie’s guilt vanished completely. He felt horrible for not inviting you, that’s why he asked Robin to ask you about your plans for Christmas.
So off they went, having a great time by the lake, drinking beer, eating grilled burgers and sausages, and then on Christmas night, the fireworks went off, and everyone was already drunk by that time, messaging loved ones and wishing them great holidays.
The next day, you called Robin, wishing her a happy Christmas. Eddie was packing the suitcase to go back to Indianapolis, when he overheard Robin tell you that they were spending New years there too, completely surprising him. He expected to return on the 26th, but he was excited to spend more time with his friends. Once again, you told Robin that it was fine since you were still at your mom’s.
And so, new years went by. Now on the 2nd of January, they all finally returned completely drained from all the alcohol and food, but still with smiles on their faces. Robin then turned to Eddie with an innocent smile on her face as she sat on the passenger’s seat.
“Eds, can you drive me to Y/N’s place? I want to show her the rocks we picked up at the lake, and I will likely stay the night at her apartment.” She batted her eyelashes at him and he rolled his own eyes.
“Okay, let’s take you to the rich girl’s place.” You explained to the group that you weren’t good with a roommate, so you rented a place near the campus to live in until your studies finished. Eddie realized you weren’t a middle-class person just by knowing that, and he doesn’t know why you would choose a college like this one instead of Harvard or something like that, as rich people do in movies.
Robin met you thanks to you being signed up to tutor her in a particular class she was struggling with. She and you immediately clicked, despite you acting a bit shy and reserved at first, as if not trusting Robin at all, like a scared animal in the wild meeting another species.
Once they arrived at your apartment complex, Robin once more looked at Eddie with a pouty lip.
“And help me with my bag? My shoulders hurt from swimming all week…” And once more, Eddie rolled his eyes, sighing as the two of them got out of his van and he went to the back to get hold of her bag, swinging it over his shoulder.
“You can just say you are lazy as fuck Buckley.” She giggled at his response and they both walked into the reception, calling the elevator to go up to your floor. Once they were at your door, Robin knocked a few times, only to be met with no response. Her smile faded slightly and she tried again, and once more, met with silence.
“Maybe she didn’t return from her mom’s.” And she bent down to look under your mat, finding the spare key. You told her she was welcome at any time, to simply look under the mat for the key and make herself comfortable, knowing Robin likes some quiet away from the dorms now and then.
She opened the door–
“Hey, you–”
And she and Eddie immediately winced at the strong smell of unwashed dishes or something of the sort.
“Jesus Christ, what is that smell? Did she forget to wash the dishes before leaving?” Eddie replied, looking over at the kitchen counter, his eyes furrowing together as he looked at a particular tray that was filled with gingerbread men cookies. They were all with a bit of fungus, and one had been bitten, one of its arms missing.
Robin closed the door behind her as she looked around, finding that there were bottles of different alcoholic beverages on the sink, a cup of ramen noodles on the coffee table in front of the TV, half-eaten, and then she spotted the small Christmas tree in the corner of the room.
She remembers how excited you were, buying your tree, telling her that you never had the chance of decorating one before because it wasn’t truly celebrated in your household. Dread immediately invaded her as she remembered that, slowly walking towards it and Eddie following behind, dropping Robin’s bag to the floor.
Robin gasped as she kneeled to the floor, finding different presents under the tree, one for each person in the group, including Eddie. His heart plummeted to the floor as Robin showed him the small present, and you didn’t even know what he liked, yet you bought something for him.
Robin then turned while getting up, looking towards the door of your bedroom that was shut. She rushed towards it and she felt her heart starting to want to come out of her mouth as she swung it open as quickly as she could.
And there you were, in your bed, resting, and Robin felt herself breathe in relief, but Eddie didn’t. Not when he noticed the bottle of wine next to you, on your nightstand.
“Maybe she didn’t think she was gonna go to her mom’s and she forgot about the cookies.” Robin said as if almost trying to convince herself. Trying to make a reasonable explanation other than the most horrible one that she could think of because of course, she doubted it when you said you were visiting your mom.
Because you mentioned to her that you two weren’t close.
Eddie slowly walked towards you, not caring about the smell that lingered in your room, knowing that you probably hadn’t showered or cleaned the place in a while. He looked down on you, tilting his head. You had the blankets all over you while you rested on your belly, eyes completely closed.
He raised a hand towards your face, under your nose, and his breathing stopped. Your breaths were slow, not even deep, and you were drooling, all over your pillow. He grabbed onto the edge of the blanket and Robin moved to stop him, yet he yanked it off.
“Robin… call 911.”
But Robin was frozen as she looked at your frame, her lip starting to shake as she inspected your right hand. A hand that was holding something that looked empty. Something that she saw was half full the last time she came over.
That orange flask that contained your sedatives.
And you chugged them down with alcohol.
Steve was rubbing Robin’s back as she sobbed into her hands, hunched over the chair of the waiting room. Eddie was on her other side, his leg bouncing up and down as he bit his nails. One day he was laughing with everyone and now he is waiting for some good news regarding your health, someone he barely knows, yet he is worried shitless for.
Loud heels were heard across the hallway, a woman in her late 40’s, wearing designer clothes, looking rather stern as she got closer to the door of the room you are in. Her arms are crossed as she stands next to it, tapping her heel on the floor, catching the attention of the three people sitting on the chairs.
“Excuse me?” Robin’s weak voice called out and the lady snapped her head towards her with an eyebrow raised up.
“Yes?”
“Who are you?”
“I am this girl’s mother. Who are you?”
And the three friends froze in their seats. It was your mother. The person you supposedly spent the holidays with, yet, she didn’t look concerned for you, but rather she looked angry, or disappointed.
“We– We’re her friends.” Robin replied with a small voice, because could she even say that? Do you deserve someone like her as a friend? Even as a partner? Someone who forgets what you told them almost a year ago? The woman scoffed, shaking her head.
“Friends? That is surprising. Were you there when she did this?” Her voice was cold, and anger started filling inside of Eddie’s chest. Why is she acting this way when her child is inside that room, fighting for her life? A life she almost took herself?
“N-No, we found her like that…” Robin looked back down again and Eddie could only look at her wrecked face with pity, yet, he could not comfort her.
“I see. Did the doctor come out or something yet? I have somewhere to be, and I cannot waste my time on this. Not again.”
And the three sitting people shot up from their seats, all with alarmed looks on their faces.
“I’m sorry… again?” Robin asked, the answer scaring her yet she needed to know what it meant. She needed to know if she was an even more horrible person than she was ten seconds ago. Your mother scoffed, shaking her head again and Eddie’s hands turned into fists.
“It’s the third time. I already sent her to a psychiatrist, a mental hospital, and therapists, and yet she still tries. That girl has everything, and yet she always craves attention this way. I’m sick of it.”
And Robin wanted to puke, right then and there, while Steve looked at Eddie with tear-filled eyes and the metalhead could see how bad his friend felt. How evil he must feel. Steve gulped and looked back at your mother, clearing his throat to be able to talk.
“W-Why would she do this?” And your mother scoffed, looking for her phone in her purse as she talked.
“Just because I forgot about the holidays and her birthday. I already sent her a message apologizing and telling her she could ask for anything she wanted, but she went and did this.”
And Robin froze.
Birthday.
December 28th.
Your birthday.
And she couldn’t handle it anymore, yanking herself away from Steve to rush towards the toilet. Steve called out to her, rushing to her aid as tears rolled down his cheeks and Eddie was frozen in place.
Not only did you spend the holidays alone, but you also spent your birthday by yourself, while they were all having fun in Hawkins, shooting fireworks and drinking alcohol to their heart's content. And you were alone, with a bottle of wine and instant noodles.
He was about to talk to your mother, about to insult her, to drag her on the floor, but the opening of the door in front of him made him stop in his tracks as the doctor walked out with a board in his hand.
“Okay, so, we got her blood cleaned up. It’s good that you caught her at such an early stage. Her vital signs look stable now, but she will have to stay here for a few days, two tops, so we can monitor her a bit more.” Your mother cleared her throat and the doctor looked up at her with a tilt of his head.
“So, she’s okay.” And there was such coldness in your mother’s voice that Eddie felt his vile rising in his throat. The doctor only sighed, taking his glasses off.
“She is, but we cannot overlook a suicide attempt. Does she have anyone to talk to? Maybe I can give you brochures for–”
“I already sent her to an institution once, but it didn't work. That child is an attention seeker, pay it no mind.”
Eddie’s eyes were burning in anger at her words and the doctor looked as surprised and hurt as he did. He cannot bear to hear your mother’s words any longer, so little care, with lack of empathy and lack of love. He wondered how many things you endured with a woman like this in your life, and honestly, he was afraid of finding out.
“W-Well, since you’re the mother, maybe you should–”
“She is a grown woman now. She can make her own decisions as you can see. I shall not worry about her anymore.” And just like that, the heels echoed in the hallway once more and Eddie’s eyes were wide as he looked at her retreating figure. A mother leaving her child after they tried to end their life, like no care in the world, as if she hadn’t given them their life to begin with.
Three times? Three times she did this? Walking away from you? How could she call you an attention seeker? How could she even acknowledge something like that when you were screaming for help?
“Ahem.”
Eddie blinked as he looked towards the doctor who had a confused yet pained look on his face.
“She is awake if you want to see her. I assume you are a friend of hers?”
Is he? He is not a friend, but you cannot be alone, not here, not right now. Robin is probably trying to breathe while Steve is comforting her, but maybe… Eddie knows you probably don’t want to see them either. None of that group. So he gave the doctor a nod, and he slowly opened the door of the white room.
His eyes scanned it, and finally, they landed on you. Your arms were connected to an IV and a blood transfusion bag, the heart rate monitor beeping right next to you as your back rested against the pillows, letting you sit on the bed. You looked emotionless. Eyes empty. Hand on each side of your body and Eddie knew your mind, your feelings, were completely shut off.
He gulped with nerves and the door closed behind him, making him wince, but it alarmed you that someone came into the room, making you look up. Your eyes twitched in surprise, yet if you were, you didn’t express it, nor show it.
“I guess you’re the one that found me?” Your voice was empty, with no tone, as if it were a recording or an AI robot. Eddie slowly nodded as he took a few steps toward the chair that was on the other side of the bed.
“Robin and I found you.” You gave a slow nod, looking back down to your lap. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know anything about you but he feels like he should have. He cleared his throat to continue talking. “I, uh, liked the necklace you got me. Pretty metal.” He winced at his words because it was something he shouldn’t have brought up at all.
Your eyes raised to meet his, another nod going towards his way, diverting your eyes back to your lap. He looked around for a second, the nerves all over his body. He was almost trembling with the need to talk to you, but what can he say? What could be something you want to hear right now? And coming from him?
“Ask away.” He startled at your voice, jumping on his seat as he looked at you once more.
“What?”
“I know you want to ask. And maybe you can also help me by telling the rest about it and how I am not going to talk to them again.” You were still not looking at him and he cleared his throat as he felt his mouth going dry, but now he knew you weren’t going to talk to the others about this. The relationship is already broken inside of you.
“I– Okay, um… I guess the first question is, why?” He slowly asked, afraid of even being able to talk to you about this, but sometimes they say that a stranger is the best listener, and maybe Eddie was just that.
“Why… Only child, homeschooled all my life so no interaction whatsoever with the world, absent mother, holidays and birthdays by myself, father was never found. Need to say more?”
And shit, Eddie was not expecting that at all. You had been miserable from the very beginning, unwanted by your own mother, and now he realized how horrible you must have felt with the whole group. Your first ever friends and they forgot every single detail of you. How you never spent a holiday with people, and was so excited you even baked cookies to share and bought presents for a gift exchange, your first ever most likely, only to never happen.
And now, he realized that… His other friends do not deserve any kind of pity, or forgiveness.
“Okay, then… Why were you scared of me?” At his question, your eyebrow raised up, and turned your head to look at him.
“Is that what you thought?” You asked with complete confusion in her tone. He looked at you with his own frown, tilting his head.
“Well yeah, you avoided me like the plague…” And you looked up at the ceiling, closing your eyes, and shaking your head with a sigh.
“No. I don’t trust people easily as you can see.” You looked down at your lap once again and he wanted to sigh a little bit in relief at that, knowing that his clothes or his whole demeanor didn’t actually scare her. She was just shy and probably nervous.
“Right… Um, Robin and Steve are here as well, do you want me to–”
“No. I don’t want to see them.” And your words spoke for your pain, and Eddie was not going to argue against it. They honestly didn’t deserve your forgiveness or kindness, that much he knew, but he also felt guilty. Really guilty.
“I– I am sorry… I didn’t invite you because I really thought you hated me– and I took everyone away, I didn’t know any of this, I am so sorry if I knew–”
“You weren’t the one who forgot. You don’t know me, but they did.” He gave you a nod in understanding, yet the guilt is still lingering in his stomach. He cleared his throat and he wanted to ease the tension for you, to relieve the somber moment that filled the room.
“So uh, you knew I liked Metallica huh? Is it because of the hundreds of shirts that I own?” Your eyebrow raised at him and you turned to face him while he gave you a cheeky smile of his own. You squinted slightly at him, but a small tug on the corner of your lips gave you away.
“Well yeah, all the times I’ve seen you it was either Metallica or Black Sabbath. It had to be one of the two.”
“What if I only liked their logos, huh?” At that, you rolled your eyes at him, but he kept making jokes at you, and a giggle here and there could be heard in the room.
Robin and Steve were hearing the both of you outside your room. They looked at each other for a minute before hesitantly walking away. Robin turned her head at almost every step, wanting to barge into the room to hug you, to say she was sorry. But she knew it meant nothing, not anymore, and not ever again.
What she did, what they did, cannot be fixed.
Eddie was lounging with his headphones on as he listened to music while resting against a tree trunk. He was bobbing his head as he wrote some lyrics on the notebook he had over his leg. For the past three days, he hasn’t heard of you. He tried visiting you yesterday only to find out you were discharged and he felt too embarrassed to just go to your apartment.
He had also distanced himself from the group. It didn’t sit right to be with people who could easily forget about something so important like a birthday. You didn’t have any social media, so the least they could do is put the birthday in their own cell phones, like Eddie did as soon as he left the hospital.
It’s not like he didn’t talk to them, he just made excuses when they asked to hang out with him. He just couldn’t shake off the bad vibes from it all.
He looked up from his lap only for his eyes to bulge out of his skull as he saw you almost prancing in happiness while walking through campus. That’s a good sign, isn’t it? He immediately put his notebook into his backpack and pulled his headphones down, resting them around his neck. He got up, almost tripping as he did so, as he rushed towards you.
“Hey! Hey!” He yelled at you to catch your attention as he got closer. You turned to face him, still with a wide smile on your face.
“Hi, Eddie.” You were smiling, that’s good, that’s really good. He was almost breathing heavily from the run he just did. He wasn’t athletic and the smoking surely doesn’t do him any good.
“Yeah– I just– give me a minute.” He huffed as he tried taking a deep breath in, and you giggled motioning to him to sit on a bench near the both of you. You sat down as soon as he plopped down, taking another huff of air as he turned his head to look at you. “So, what got you all smiley?”
“Well, I just dropped out of college!” You announced with a smile and jazz hands, startling Eddie completely. His face was contorted in confusion and wonder.
“What? Why? You didn’t like what you were studying?” You shook your head as you looked at the horizon, not anything in particular.
“It’s just pointless now.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m going to California in three months.” Your head turned to look at him still with a smile on your face. “I’ve been offered P.A.S.”
He frowned, not knowing what those syllables meant at all. He tried putting them together in his head but nothing was coming up.
“What’s that?”
And Eddie didn’t know why you opened up to him with that. He didn’t know why he didn’t care that you did. He didn’t know why this relationship between the two of you evolved in this manner, as quickly as it did… but he never expected to hear the response you gave him.
“Physician Assisted Suicide.”
And now, Eddie knew that term, and his eyes bulged out of his skull. You were… offered that? How can that happen? You had no health issues to go through something like that, so why would you consider that? Why would the doctors even consider that for you? His heart was just hammering in his chest as dread invaded his gut.
“W-What? Why– how?” He was speechless, not really knowing what he was asking or what he wanted to know at this point. He felt his gut turning at the information like he couldn’t believe someone as young as yourself could even consider that way out.
“Well, it was due to all my medical records, be it psychological and physical. My mindset never changed.” Your gaze turned from him to nothingness once more. “I go, get help, only to get out and for everything to be the same. It never changes, because it was never me who had to change.”
Eddie slowly blinked at your wording and his eyes drifted to the sky as his thoughts raced through his mind. Can he even talk you out of this? How can he even do that? You seem happy, way too happy with this solution… You were excited.
“You’re not… scared?”
“No. Not at all. I am ready to go. My heart can barely handle it anymore.” And Eddie’s eyes turned towards the profile of your face. You had made your decision clear, and he wouldn’t be able to stop you now. No one can. The group was no longer part of your life, your mother didn’t care about your decision so it seems… and he is no one to stop you.
“Alright… You– um, what are you gonna do until… you know, then?” He asked and you smiled at him, grabbing your backpack to take out your notebook, and flipping a page to show him a list, which made him frown in confusion.
“These are things I never tried because the opportunity never presented itself. Before, I didn’t know–” You cut your voice short at what you were about to say, and then you continued. “Now that I know when it’s gonna happen, I don’t want to go with any regrets.”
Eddie looked at the list, and he couldn’t believe… how trivial some of these things were.
- Go to an amusement park
- Smoke a cigarette
- Buy a Barbie Dreamhouse
- Eat a cake for breakfast
- Get high
And then he saw more complicated ones.
- Go skydiving
- Learn to drive (or attempt)
- Try to skateboard
- Ride on a jet ski
- Attempt to make a rainbow cake
And so many more. You had filled an entire page with things you wanted to do and he looked up at you to see you looking up at the sky with a smile on your lips.
“I think I should get the Barbie Dreamhouse first. Oh, maybe get some alcohol, I never got fully drunk, but maybe tonight I can since I don’t have to wake up early anymore–” And you went on with your plans and Eddie was just staring at you as the thoughts ran through his brain.
Everyone else was walking all around the two of you, and nobody knew that you were going to die in three months. No one knew you had made an entire bucket list with things to do before going. No one knew about this decision of yours, and he wasn’t going to let you be alone in this. He doesn’t want you to live these last few weeks with no one at your side.
“You know, or I can make one of your wishes on the list come true.” Your head snapped towards him with a surprised look on your face.
“Oh, what?” And a smirk formed on Eddie’s lips.
“Getting high.”
“Did you prepare the pan?”
“Uh…”
“Eddie!”
He immediately rushed to grab onto the pan as he burst into giggles thanks to the weed in his system. The munchies came to life with you two after smoking a whole joint from Eddie’s stash. You had the open bag of pizza rolls in your hands, the oven already turned on as you waited for Eddie to put some oil spray on the pan.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just– I was stuck looking at the wall.” He simply replied to you, making you burst into laughter, trying not to let the pizza rolls fall to the ground. He followed you with chuckles as he sprayed the pan and handed it to you so you could throw the pizza rolls on it and then begin cooking them in the oven.
You were relaxed, that much Eddie knew, and he was smiling as you tip-toed in a dance towards your couch, plopping down. He followed soon after, sitting next to you. You giggled as you stared at the ceiling.
“I feel like I’m on a cloud.” Eddie stared at your profile for a while before he began talking once more.
“I wanna help.”
“Hmm?” You turned to face him still with a dopey smile on your face.
“I want to help you complete some things on your list.”
And your smile fell as if becoming sober out of nowhere. Eddie then gulped but his resolution was already said and you moved uncomfortably in your place.
“You don’t have to pity me. I can do these–”
“No, you can’t. Learning to drive a car? How do you plan to do that?” At that, you opened and closed your mouth many times and then cleared your throat.
“An instructor!” Eddie rolled his eyes at that, and put his hand up, his fingers up.
“Getting drunk, you need supervision.” He put a finger down. “Going to a concert, you’re gonna get squashed.” He put another one down. “Playing Mortal Kombat, you need an enemy.” He put another and then you stopped him completely, shoving his hand down.
“Okay, okay, okay! I see your stupid point.” You sighed as you threw your head back against the headrest of the couch, looking at your ceiling. He knew you were overthinking it, but he honestly wanted to help you in any way he could.
“C’mon, there are a few things in your list I am dying to try too. Like– Eating Argentinian food. I never tried that shit, I bet it’s fucking delicious.” You giggled at his expression and then nodded at him.
“Okay, fine. You can help. You will also help me bake that stupid rainbow cake I always wanted to try.” He laughed at that with a shake of his head.
“Another thing I never did in my life was bake. It’s gonna be a journey. Do you have insurance here? We might burn it all down.” At that you punched his shoulder lightly, causing him to laugh it out followed by your giggle.
And what a journey it was gonna be.
“Seriously, YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO GET ME INTO THIS TOO!” Eddie almost screamed as he looked out the window of the helicopter with a frightened look on his face. Harnesses were all around his body, a man behind him strapping himself closer to Eddie’s back.
You were in front of him, holding your laughter as you held onto a handle on the side of the big machine that was now miles and miles above the ground. The helmets on both of your heads almost crushed your skulls but the protection was needed. Another man was strapping himself to you behind your back.
“Oh come on! You wanted to try new things!” You yelled at him so he could hear you over the loud sound of the helicopter.
“Yes! BUT NOT SKYDIVING! I WAS HAPPY TO WAIT FOR YOU WITH EARTH BENEATH MY FEET!” He yelled back and you were trying really hard to contain your laughter. Suddenly the big door next to the both of you slid open and the wind immediately pushed your body and Eddie’s back from the force but the guys remained still as they held onto the handles above the door.
“You guys ready!?” The one behind you asked and Eddie rolled his eyes behind the goggles.
“DO I HAVE A FUCKING CHOICE?”
“Nope.” The guy behind him said before jumping out with no warning, dragging Eddie with him, and then the guy strapped to you followed close behind. You were screaming your lungs out, and Eddie was shrieking. The adrenaline of falling was making him feel butterflies in his belly, almost making him feel sick.
He can hear you closer now and he raised his head to see you in front of him with your arms splayed out and reaching out for him. He could hear your laughter through your screaming and he reached out, fighting the strong wind, to finally lock his hands with yours as you two were freefalling towards the ground.
He couldn’t help but smile and cheer out from how extreme the whole situation was. He didn’t know how you weren’t hungover, you had gotten yourself as drunk as possible yesterday night while dancing to his music. He showed you how to headbang properly, and he took care of you when you started letting the contents out in the toilet.
He held your hands as tightly as possible, your fingers intertwined with his, as you both yelled with excitement and fear as you plummeted down and down. You only separated when the men behind your backs tapped on your sides so they could pull the parachute open.
Your bodies jerked as you started floating in the sky, and Eddie was left laughing as you both glided downwards towards the ground again. He could see the entire city and the fields as you both kept coming down. He turned his head to see you laughing as well, your head looking up at the sky in bliss and he felt his heart tug on him slightly.
Once you two touched earth again, Eddie let the air out of his lungs with relief and the guy behind him unstrapped himself so Eddie could catch a proper breath, taking the goggles and helmet off. You followed a few seconds later, walking towards him with a smile on your face and taking your goggles off.
“It wasn’t so bad, was it?” You were breathing heavily and he scoffed at you with a shake of his head, flicking his fingers on your forehead.
“I won’t let you drag me into something like this ever again.”
You laughed at him and you both walked back to Eddie’s van after you paid for the experience. You didn’t let Eddie pay at all, since you dragged him into it. He was going to invite you for dinner though, and you wanted McDonalds, so he was driving back towards town as you two talked in the van.
“So, you never told me about your parents.” You blurted out, catching him by surprise, but you were indeed right. He gripped his steering wheel a little tighter, but he kept a small smile on his face.
“Oh, where to begin? My mother died when I was young and my Father was… very abusive, and often dragged me into stealing with him. He got caught and he’s been in jail for a while now, he’s charged with robbery and homicide attempt.” He took a big gulp in as he kept driving, not used to letting people into his life in this way. “But, my uncle Wayne took me in at fifteen. He is the father figure my father failed to be.”
You were silent as you listened to him. He didn’t hear anything from you so he turned to face you, only to see you looking at him with tears running down your cheeks. He wondered what was going on in your head at that point. He was about to ask you what was wrong and you sniffled, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand.
“I’m– sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.” You said regretfully and he instantly shook his head.
“No, no… don’t worry. I’m past it.” He was worried about what you were thinking about at the moment since you remained silent for a while.
“I’m a little jealous to be honest… You had someone that…” And he waited for you to continue, but when you didn’t, he pressed forward.
“Someone that what?”
“Wanted you.”
And his heart broke at that, immediately so, and he knew his eyes started burning from the incoming tears and he shook his head to keep focused on driving. You didn’t need him to cry, you didn’t need that.
But should he tell you what he thinks? Should he tell you what has been on his mind for the past month that he helped you tick things off your list?
“I–”
“Oh! Before I forget–” You looked through your purse, pulling out your phone as you started scrolling, and he frowned as he tried to look at what you were doing and then back at the road. You giggled and moved away so he couldn’t see. “No peeking!”
“Oh come on, you can’t just do that and not expect me to be anxious!” He laughed as he kept his gaze on the road and then he saw light in his peripheral vision and he looked quickly to see you were showing your phone to him. He switched from the road and to your phone but he couldn’t quite read it. “What’s that?”
“You know how one of the things was to go to a concert?” He nodded and you giggled, putting your phone down again. “I got us two tickets to go see Megadeth!”
His jaw could just fall from his skull at this point as he tried to focus on driving and not the shock from those news. Did you say Megadeth? Are you serious? Eddie has been dying to see them live but when he got into the virtual line they got sold out in just a few seconds.
“What?!” He yelled and you kicked your feet on your seat as you stared down at the phone. He was speechless, a smile spreading on his face, only for it to fall back down. “Wait, do you even LIKE Megadeth!?”
“Well, I haven’t heard much, BUT YOU LIKE THEM, and I assumed that we should go to a concert we both can enjoy. I doubt you want to go to a Taylor Swift concert.” You replied with a wiggle of your eyebrows only for him to scoff.
“Taylor Swift has some sick songs. But– Yes, I do prefer Megadeth sweetheart.” He smiled widely at you and then looked back at the road, cheering as he hit the steering wheel with excitement. “Fuck yeah!”
You were laughing on the passenger’s seat and Eddie was smiling all the while as realization started to dawn on him that… he may like something more than Megadeth’s music.
It was a special kind of tune.
“Seriously, how long are you gonna take darling, we had to go like yesterday!” Eddie yelled with a pissed-off tone as he paced in your living room.
“It’s my first time wearing something like this, it needs to be perfect!” He heard you yell from the bathroom and he sighed, but a smile was splayed on his lips. He was looking out the window as he waited for you in his Megadeth tank top with a black leather jacket on top. He heard the bathroom click open and he sighed in relief, turning around with a roll of his eyes.
“Finally–” And his breath was knocked out of his lungs. Your hair was messy, completely batted, wearing heavy black makeup on your eyes, strong lipstick on your lips, a black top with a black long-sleeved fishnet shirt on top, and then black leather pants below. You gave him a twirl and wiggled your eyebrows at him.
“So!? I had to look at a tutorial on YouTube to get this done, but I think I did pretty good–”
“You look beautiful.” And it was natural. It came out without doubt, without him thinking too much about it, and you were shocked, yet, he noticed how you diverted your gaze away from him, and he chuckled at how embarrassed you got from a compliment regarding your physique.
“I– uh, it isn’t weird?” You asked and Eddie knew you felt a little self-conscious of how different you looked. But you were indeed beautiful, this just enhanced it in ways he didn’t think could be possible and he felt his knees bending for you.
“It isn’t darling…”
There was a moment of silence between the two of you and Eddie could only stare at you as he walked closer to your frame. He saw how your shoulders went up and down a littler harder than before, signaling him that you were taking deeper breaths, maybe from nervousness, he didn’t know.
“Um–”
“Sweetheart…” You finally looked at him and he smiled, rolling his eyes. “Can we please go now!?”
And you giggled at him, the tension leaving the both of you as you made your way out to head to his van.
The ride to the stadium was filled with music, mostly Megadeth which you started listening to since you showed Eddie the tickets three weeks ago. Today signaled the second month of you two completing your bucket list.
One more month to go.
And the concert was filled with screams and laughter from your part, Eddie protecting you from the people pushing against you, but you didn’t care, experiencing your first concert ever, and you wanted to share it with him. This was your first and last concert, and you decided it was gonna be Megadeth, for his taste.
“That was AWESOME! My neck needs ice from all the headbanging though.” You sighed as you two got back into the van after almost three hours of jumping around. Your make up was smudged, your hair looked a little sweaty, and your lipstick had washed away from the sweat, yet, you looked as beautiful as you did hours ago. Even before the makeup. Maybe even more.
“Hey, you were great for your first metal concert.” You giggled at his words and gave him a nod.
“I am a natural.” You smiled at him and he just kept staring at you, licking his lips as he looked down and then moved his whole body in order to face you. The nerves were almost killing him as he tried to formulate the following words.
“I uh– I can help you cross another thing off your list.” You tilted your head in question and you pulled out your notebook from the bag you left in the van with your bucket list and then a green highlighter.
“What is it?” You smiled at him as you handed them to him and he scanned the whole list, looking for that one thing and when he spotted it, he felt his heart in his throat as he slowly showed it to you, pointing at the line.
Have the first kiss
You blinked once, twice, and then looked up at him with a confused frown in your eyebrows. He gulped loudly and he might have overstepped it, but he still waited for your response and he could see the incoming tears in your eyes as he felt his hands becoming sweaty.
“You– You don’t have to do that… I– You don’t have to do something you don’t want to–”
“I want to. I really want to.”
He could see that you were nervous, looking everywhere but his face. You didn’t reject him. You were worried that he didn’t want to do this and felt pressured because of your list, and that was far from the truth.
“I– How does this go?” And he wanted to smile at your innocence, but he felt sadness that you never experienced any kind of physical interaction in all your life. But he smiled anyway, in order to calm your nerves down. He raised his hand towards your cheek once you moved to face him in the passenger seat. Your breathing hitched at his touch, finally looking at him, directly into his brown eyes.
“Just close your eyes. You can tell me to stop whenever, I won’t pressure you, sweetness.”
And his voice was soft, and caring, his thumb smoothing your cheek in circles and when he saw you close your eyes, he took a deep breath in as he slowly leaned in. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, the blood rushing to his head at a quick pace, but he had to focus. He knew his face was flushed, but he couldn’t help it.
He could smell your perfume still, despite all the jumping, all the sweat, it was still lingering on your body. He finally closed the gap between the two of you in a soft peck on the lips, staying there for two seconds before pulling away as a chill ran down his spine. He wanted to dive into it, take your lips completely, but he didn’t want to overstep. He opened his mouth to ask if you were okay, only to be surprised by your hands grasping his face, pulling him towards your mouth again.
He gasped into the kiss, and he took it as a sign that you wanted to know more, experience more, learn more. So he kissed back, his hand moving towards the back of your head in order to push you further into him as you two hovered over the console. He started to move his lips, slowly, and he felt you follow him, hesitant at first, maybe doubting what you were doing.
He was having a hard time focusing on not letting his instincts take over, a very horrible time. This was a bad idea. This was a terrible fucking idea and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. He needed to be the one to give this to you, because if someone else did… he wouldn’t be able to bear it. He didn’t want anyone close to you, not like this.
He felt your hands moving to the back of his head, your fingers digging into his curls, and he held a groan in, trying to not let it show how carnal he was becoming. He was nervous but he wanted to see if you wanted to take it even further, so he poked his tongue out, licking your bottom lip tentatively.
He heard a gasp coming from you and he noticed that you didn’t get the idea of what he wanted to do, so he tried again, licking in between your bottom and top lip. You seemed to know what part comes next, so you slowly opened your mouth, and he met his tongue with yours, earning another gasp of surprise.
He wanted to know what thoughts were running in your mind right now as he kissed you. Did you feel the heat rising? Did you feel scared like he does? Did you feel happy? Confused? Nervous? What is going on in that head of yours?
He didn’t want to break it apart, he really didn’t, but it’s been minutes, and he didn’t want to overdo it at all, and he can’t hide his real feelings for much longer. He slowly pulled away from you, the smack of lips separating and vibrating all over the van. You two were breathing heavily as you stared into each other’s eyes.
“So? How was that for a first kiss?” He asked breathlessly and he could see something in your eyes that he couldn’t quite describe. It was a mixture of emotions, not one in particular, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He was still holding onto your face, waiting on your response.
“It–” You opened your mouth to say something, only to shut it seconds after, and then a smirk appeared on your lips, pulling away from him to sit straight in the passenger seat. “I don’t know Munson, got nothing to compare it to.”
His mouth fell open, a laugh escaping his lips as he poked the side of your body, making a giggle escape your lips, flinching away from him as he kept poking you repeatedly.
Yeah… your laugh was better than any song out there.
Five days.
Five days and you were leaving.
And it’s not like you were going to come back. You weren’t going to in any shape or form.
Eddie was lounging on your couch as you put things in cardboard boxes. Things you wanted to donate since you weren’t going to need them any longer. He closed his eyes tightly, his heart aching and wanting to stop you, to yell at you that you didn’t have to do this, not anymore.
“Okay, I think I’m done for today. You sure you don’t want any of this?” You asked him and he felt as if a knife was stabbed into his throat. He wanted to cry like he had been doing alone at night whenever he went to bed. Sleepless nights were plagued by the thought of not seeing you anymore, of not being able to hug you, of not being able ever to cuddle you like he wanted.
“Yeah, pretty sure.” He didn’t want to sound bitter or angry, but he couldn’t hide it. You didn’t acknowledge it of course, so you shrugged, closing the box and standing up from the floor before heading to your room.
He stared at your open door, needing to hype himself up. If it’s not now, he won’t have the chance to do it again. He needs to kiss you once more, he needs to hold you close, he needs to show his feelings through actions.
So he stood up and slowly walked towards your room. You were cleaning up your closet, looking through your shirts. He watched you move through your room, and he looked over to your desk, seeing the almost completed bucket list. Some were just impossible to complete, like riding a kangaroo, but there was a particular one that he wanted to fulfill, and not because it was on the list.
If this was the only chance he could do it, he would take it. You noticed his presence when you turned around with a shirt on your hand and saw him looking at your notebook. You tilted your head to the side as his fingers trailed one particular line that was yet to be highlighted.
“Eds? What’s wrong?” Your voice held worry as you put the shirt back in the closet and Eddie turned his head up to look at you. He turned to close the door behind him, to face you again, taking a few steps forward to stand in front of you.
“I saw one more thing on the list… a thing I want too.” His voice was small, lacking confidence, filled with nerves, but he needed this. He needed you. He hoped he wasn’t getting this wrong, because ever since that kiss the two of you stole glances from one another, laughter as friends turned into flushed giggles.
“And what is that?” You asked with a frown on your eyebrows, in question. He wrapped an arm around your waist, flushing your body to his, his breath most likely hitting your face as he felt your shoulders move even quicker than before, signaling him you were taking fast breaths.
“Do you trust me on this?” You stared up into his eyes for a full five seconds before slowly nodding at him. He lifted his other hand to cup your face in his palm, and he leaned down to take your lips with his.
Electricity ran through his body, and he wanted to smile, he wanted to cry, he wanted to yell, he wanted to rip and break the walls, he needed to destroy something, he needed to hug someone, he needed comfort but he also needed the rage.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding onto him as your lips moved together, soon tongues intertwining as the seconds passed, and your breathing turned jagged as you pulled away for some air. Eddie leaned down to kiss your jaw, startling you, to then move downwards towards your neck, planting soft kisses onto your skin.
A gasp escaped your lips at the sudden sensation, new, raw, and Eddie felt you shiver under his touch, but instead, you were gripping his shoulders in order to pull him closer as the hand that was on your waist started sneaking under the hem of your shirt so he could touch your skin.
“Eddie…” It was a partial moan, but he took it as a green light, moving you towards the bed so he could lay you down but before he crawled on top of you he took the chance to take his jacket off, throwing it across the room, not caring where it landed.
If this was going to be the only time to have you like this, he would make sure to make you feel like the most adored person in the world. He will make sure of it. Even as your moans filled the room, he couldn’t help but want to record them, knowing he won’t ever hear them again.
And that line was highlighted in green when you both woke up the next morning.
Make love
He didn’t want to look at you.
He couldn’t.
The sun was shining through your curtains as you walked around the apartment with the small carry-on waiting for you at the front door. The past few days the two of you dipped into the sheets, all day, cooking when necessary only to return to bed.
He really wanted to cry and yell, and he almost left in the middle of the night in order to not see this day. In order to just run away from the fact this was your last hour with him, and you had asked him to take you to the airport. He can ditch you, tell you he wasn’t going to do it, that you could get a cab.
But he couldn’t do it. His heart was ripping out of his chest at every step you took in your apartment, the seconds ticking closer and closer to the departure of your plane. A plane with no return at all. A one way ticket.
He looked around your apartment, and boxes of stuff that you wanted to donate surrounded him, as well as bags of your clothes. You told Eddie that he was the only one in your will. That fact broke him to the core, knowing that you were leaving everything to him, but the only thing he wanted was you, and you were going to leave him.
He didn’t want your pans, your apartment, your cutlery, your game consoles, or TVs. He wanted you, and only you. He didn’t notice that his tears were falling down his face as the lump in his throat became bigger and harder to swallow at every gulp he tried to take.
“Okay, I think I’m–” You stopped on your tracks when you saw his profile, noticing the tears, your eyes widening as you approached him, your hands cupping his cheeks for him to look at you. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re leaving me.” He wasn’t going to hold back his feelings anymore. He showed you through his actions, but he never said them out loud, and the least he can do is let you know this.
“What–”
“I love you.” Your eyes widened and your mouth hung open at his confession, but Eddie didn’t stop talking. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and fuck, you need to know how much I fucking want you.”
You were stunned into the ground and that’s when Eddie turned to look at you, only to see tears running down your face as you covered your mouth, taking steps away from him.
“You– You can’t say that to me, not now. Please– Please– not now.” You were choking into your sobs as he stood in front of you, coughing to be able to speak.
“I– I want you to stay… Please, don’t take that flight… I beg of you, please, stay with me…” His lip was trembling as he felt nausea fill his stomach, taking a few steps towards you as the crying finally was heard through the apartment.
“I– I don’t need your pity! I– I am happy I am doing this! You’re lying in order for me to stay, and I’m not going to buy it!” You yelled through your sobs, and Eddie felt his chest ripping open at your thoughts.
“I am not lying! I am in love with you! Why can’t you believe that!?” He was screaming now, trying to get his point across but you also didn’t back down, yelling back to him with the same confusion, with the same anger, with the same sadness.
“Because how can I trust that!? How can I trust you!?” And Eddie grabbed you onto your shoulders, squeezing you tightly in order for you to look at him and not run away. His eyes were on fire as he gazed at you through his tears.
“Trust me just like you trusted me to hold your hair back when you got too drunk and you were in the toilet! Trust me just like you trusted me to teach you how to drive! Trust me just like you trusted me to protect you in your first night club outing! Trust me just like you trusted me when I made love to you!”
And the screaming ceased, eyes locked into one another’s, tears still streaming down, never stopping, heavy breathing trembling against every wall. You were shaking under his touch, your lips trembling as your hands shook on your sides while he still gripped onto your shoulders. You opened your mouth to talk once more, your voice small, broken.
“You… One day you will get tired of me, but you will feel bad for leaving me, so you won’t… I can’t– I can’t chain you like that–” Your voice was breaking his heart, even more than before, and he shook his hair desperately as he let go of your shoulders so he could grab your hands and hold them with his, getting closer to you.
“No, no… I won’t ever get tired of you… Not you, not in a million years…”
“Eds…”
“Please… Please don’t go… Please, trust me.”
You sobbed a gulp of air and you raised in order to give him a soft kiss on the lips. His breathing hitched at it, but kissed you back, dread filling his core, every vein, every blood cell instantly freezing at what the future will hold, of what this kiss meant. You pulled away with a small smile on your face. Small, authentic, yet sad.
“I love you, Eddie… I’m sorry…”
And your flight took off that day.
“Mr. Munson…”
“Mr. Munson…”
“Mr. Munson!”
Eddie jolted in his seat as he put his wallet down to look up at his group of students. Gregory was raising his hand and Eddie pointed at him so he knew he was acknowledged.
“Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts. What’s wrong Mr. Gill?” He asked and his student asked something about the textbook they were all reading. His college students. He began explaining the paragraph that seemed like a puzzle to students from the book “Down the Rabbit Hole”.
He graduated in Psychology three years ago. He was offered a job as a professor in the same college he graduated from, and he was more than happy to pass his knowledge to other students to help them understand how the brain works, and the many branches that can come out of it after every single situation in life. Traumatic or not.
Once his students went back to reading, he grabbed onto his wallet again, looking inside to see a picture of you and him, completing one of your bucket list’s objectives.
Go to an amusement park and get pictures taken in a photo booth.
He chuckled as he remembered that outing, how you had screamed at your first ride on a roller coaster.
He became friends with Steve once again but was still not fond of the rest of the group. The only reason he got close to Steve again was because he was also a teacher in the same college. He was a professor in physical trauma, so, in their breaks, they would smoke together as they walked through campus.
The bell rang and it was time for him to finally head home after a long day of having four classes in the day. He grabbed his suitcase, hoping no student would stop him on his way out and gladly it never happened. His hair is still the same length, but he is always using a ponytail or a bun on his head.
He has heard rumors that people always gossip about him, asking if he was single, or what was his life like outside college. He shrugged the comments away as they weren’t important at all. He just came to work and that’s it.
He got into his car, a black jeep he saved a year for in order to buy it. He missed the van, but he had to upgrade it once and for all. His van was a little old so replacement parts were a bitch to get. He turned on his car and then started his drive back to his home, a two-story house. It wasn’t big or luxurious, but it was his home.
He sighed in relief as he opened the door, throwing his suitcase on the couch after slamming the door closed. He cracked his neck a few times before taking his blazer off and then his tie, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt and opening the cuffs at the end of the sleeves. He groaned with satisfaction as he sniffed the air.
He smiled as he walked towards his kitchen, leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, his teeth showing into a massive grin.
“Hi baby.” You smiled widely at him as you took the pan out of the oven, filled with cookies that were freshly baked. He walked towards you, his hand stretching out in order to grab a cookie, only for it to get slapped away by you. “They’re hot!”
“I am strong, I can handle a little bit of burning.” He grinned down at you, leaning down to give you a soft kiss on the lips in greeting. “Were my princesses hungry for cookies?”
“Are you talking to me or…” He chuckled at the pout on your face and he bent down to kiss the big bump on your belly, standing up straight later on, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to him.
“Those two are my princesses, you, my love, are my queen.” You rolled your eyes at his antics but you giggled either way. He gave you a smooch on the cheek, making you laugh, trying to push him away. He spotted something on the kitchen counter, pulling away from kissing you and getting the item in his hand.
“Oh! Yeah, Chrissy gifted that! She said–” Eddie laughed as he looked at you and then putting the two pink pacifiers that you can put flavored ice in so they can chew and help with the heat.
“Another gift!? Damn, she really wants to be the godmother of one of our princesses huh.” You pushed onto his shoulder with a pout on your bottom lip.
“Hey, she is going to be the best aunt.” Eddie nodded at that and he really wasn’t angry at Chrissy. You met her after you moved out of your apartment to go to Eddie’s. She was moving in at the same time you were, and you two helped each other in bringing the boxes in.
Yes, your flight took off that day… Without you in it.
You stayed with him, wrapped in his arms as you cried, not being able to stop as your feelings confused you, scared you, your mind a jumbled mess but Eddie held you through it. Eddie wasn’t going to let you go, never, and he promised it, over and over again into your ear, hoping it stuck to your brain.
“Oh no baby, I don’t doubt that.” He smiled at you as you started taking the cookies off the tray, taking care of your hands so that you don’t burn yourself. Eddie just stared at you with adoration in his eyes, as if you held the entire world in your hand, and you did. You are his world. You are everything.
You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow in question, wondering if he was scheming something that you didn’t know about.
“Now, what is going on in that mind of yours Munson?” He found it ironic that you can easily ask that question to him when he wanted to ask that to you many times before. He smiled at you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, his hands resting below your bump, holding onto it as he felt his two daughters moving inside of you.
“I just love you Mrs. Munson…” You turned your head to give him a soft kiss on the cheek, before focusing once again on the cookies.
“And I love you.”
After a moment of silence, he pressed a soft kiss on the side of your neck, surprising you, yet a giggle escaped your throat.
“Thank you.” That confused you, turning your head to look at him and he was already smiling fondly at you.
“For what?”
“For trusting me.”
The end.
a/n: this story explores the idea of death, the idea of being ready to receive it with open arms, with a rational head. But it also explores the fact that things get better if you meet the right people. It might not be now, it might not be tomorrow. It might take years for you to do so, and people in your life will come and go.
But there will always be that one person. And that is all you will ever need.
Taglist of people I mentioned this to: @littlesubbyflower @munson-blurbs @andvys
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#stranger things#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fics#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x y/n#fanfiction#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x female reader#eddie x reader#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x you#fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson blurb#dark!fic
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My thoughts on drawing wings (an unofficial tutorial)
Do you want to get better at drawing your favorite winged character? Do you have winged OCs? Just want to learn something new? I can't promise this post will help, but maybe it'll give you some helpful tips.
I know, I knowww, wing tutorials have been done to death. I don't care. This was initially inspired by a conversation on twitter, but actually I've wanted to write down my notes on the topic for a long time lol. Basically wings are one of my special interests so it's very important, for me, to draw them both nicely and also realistically.
On that note, let me first show you my resume *distant sound of floodgates opening*
Like what you see? Read on!
(Oh, and I will only be covering feathered/avian wings bc those are the type I know best.)
Now, I'm not here to give you a step-by-step guide on wing anatomy and aerodynamics, because there are plenty of other resources that cover this already, and I'll list my faves at the end of the post. Right now, I'm going to give you some easy guidelines and tricks that I wish more artists knew.
1: Wings do, in fact, have bones (crazy, I know) and are actually very rigid because they have to support the weight of a living creature. There are some positions you cannot physically force a wing into irl.
2: Flight feathers are not placed willy-nilly on the wing, because then they wouldn't catch the air properly. Again, like the bones, they are rigid and strong, so don't draw them like fur or ribbons. All wings have the same pattern of feather placement, with slight variation depending on species. If you learn the feather sections, it will automatically improve your drawings a lot.
2.5: Feathers overlap each other like a handful of playing cards, and this looks different depending on which side of the wing you're drawing. They always do this unless they're extremely untidy.
3: The size of the wingspan is important if you're going for a more realistic design. There is no "scientifically accurate" measurement when it comes to fictional creatures, but my general rule is when in doubt, you probably need to make them bigger. Personally, for my original winged human species, I give them wings that can be up to 12 feet long each (the artistic sacrifice is that it's really hard to fit the wings on the dang page lmao, so make your own call).
4: Get used to drawing folded wings. Most of the time, birds keep their wings folded because it prevents them from getting damaged and it conserves energy. The trick is to get good at visualizing how the joints bend and overlap (look at plenty of photos!) In general, they can fold much tighter than you think.
5: Wings and feathers take a lot of patience to draw, but the results are worth it. I've seen so so many incredibly beautiful and skillful artworks that are---well, maybe not ruined, but still negatively affected by a pair of wings that look like an afterthought, or not even like wings at all. You have no idea how much a little extra time and practice will add to your work until you see for yourself.
Finally, some notes on "stylized" wings: Of course it's perfectly ok to draw more simplified/cartoony wings if that's your preference!! BUT there is a difference between a stylistic choice and a lack of effort/poor understanding of the subject matter. Even cartoonists have to learn the fundamentals of realism so they know how to make their designs logical and appealing. Here are some examples of more stylized wings that I feel retain the core principles of anatomy/aesthetics:
And last but not least: A list of helpful links I use personally for reference and inspiration!
I made this pinterest board for general artsy inspo, and this board to curate my very favorite tutorials/refs/information, focusing on the scientific aspect of wings and flight in general. Feel free to use both! (I also suggest pinterest in general for pose refs and such, but try to only practice using photos at first and not other drawings.)
I highly recommend this blog and this blog if you want examples of artists who draw more realism-based winged creatures!! They are both huge inspirations for me and I think you should totally follow them even if you don't plan to draw wings lol <3
If you're REALLY serious about it, my favorite ref books are: Winged Fantasy, a lovely drawing book by Brenda Lyons; Proctor & Lynch's Manual of Ornithology; and Angelus vincens by R. Spano, which is essentially an artbook by someone who (I believe) designed biologically plausible "angels" for their senior thesis.
Ok, idk how to end this lol but I hope it helped! I know it's not my normal kind of post but I'm super busy with college stuff rn and this was all I had time for. If you guys have any questions or feedback, please let me know!!!
-Aloe <3
#my art#wings#drawing#tutorial#the way I could've talked for so much longer haha#but it's 3 am for me and I am fading fast so GOODNIGHT
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
Day 11 of TUI-Mas
Warnings: pregnancy, Reader has a baby bump and stretch marks (briefly mentioned), talk of insecurities
WC: 1.2k
A/N: this was inspired by an ask that I got for Eddie feeling so grateful when he witnesses a sweet moment between Ms. Sweetheart/Reader and Harris, but I can't find who sent it. If it was you, thank you!
November 1999
“Har? You ready for bed?”
Harris nods, peeling back his Spider-Man comforter and slipping beneath the covers. He points to the laminated list that’s Velcroed to the back of his door. You run your finger down the column where he’s used the dry erase marker to check off each task in his routine: shower, comb his hair, brush his teeth, pee, and change into his pajamas.
“Nice job!” You walk—though at this point in your pregnancy, it’s a bonafide waddle—from the doorway towards the small bookshelf in the corner of his room and pluck the newest Magic Treehouse from its spot. Removing the bookmark, you cautiously lower yourself onto his bed, resting your free hand on your belly to keep steady.
He snuggles into you, head nestled against your arm as you read aloud. “Chapter four,” you begin, but before you can continue, Harris speaks.
“Mommy?” His voice is tiny, very much unlike his usual boisterousness, and you can’t help but feel worried.
You brush an unruly lock of his hair from his forehead. “What’s up?”
Harris pauses for a moment, singular front tooth scraping over his bottom lip anxiously. “What if Baby Brother doesn’t like me?” His hazel eyes are shiny with incoming tears. “What if he doesn’t think I’m a good big brother?”
Your heart splinters into a thousand pieces when you hear the concern in his voice. “Oh, Har,” you murmur, shifting your weight to find a more comfortable position, “he’s going to love you. More than that; he’s going to look up to you. You’ll be his role model.”
“But I don’t know how to be a role model.” He keeps his gaze trained on the webbing shooting from Spider-Man’s fingers. “An’ everyone keeps saying that being a big brother is a really important job, but I’ve never been one before! What if I’m not good at it?”
You consider your words for a moment. “Can I tell you a secret?” you finally ask, softly smiling when his attention immediately snaps back to you. “Do you remember when I was your teacher, and you wanted me to be your mommy?”
“Mhm. An’ now you are.”
“And now I am,” you agree with a laugh. “But when your dad and I first started talking about me being your mommy, I was so scared.”
Harris’s eyes widen in disbelief. “You were scared?” His nose wrinkles as he tries to discern your reasoning. “Why?”
“Well, being a mommy is a super important job, too,” you tell him, tucking the bookmark back between the pages and setting the paperback down on the bed. “And I didn’t want to mess up or make any mistakes. But guess what?”
“What?” He places his hand on top of yours.
You lean in and whisper, “I’ve messed up and made mistakes.” Your tone stays lighthearted, but both of you know that the words are spoken with truth. “There have been times where I should have been tougher, and times that I should have been more easygoing. And sometimes, I look back and think, ‘why did I do that?’” You shake your head to combat the memories of missteps you’ve inadvertently conjured up. “But you still love me, just like Baby Brother will always love you.”
Harris exhales with a heaviness that’s almost comical coming from a seven-year-old. He’s not wholly convinced, so you continue.
“Har, you are gonna be the best big brother the world has ever seen.” The promise is honey-sweet and just as natural. “There are so many things you’ll get to teach the baby that Daddy and I can’t.”
He allows himself to look at you once again, curiosity overtaking nervousness. “Like what?”
“Like…drawing,” you say, scratching an itch on the side of your stomach where a stretch mark has formed. “You’re our resident artist; no one draws a family portrait better than Harris Munson.”
He giggles at this. “Yeah, an’ you guys don’t know a lot about superheroes; only a little bit.”
“Exactly. Only what you’ve taught us.” You kiss the crown of his head. “Baby Brother is so lucky to have you.”
Harris nods, letting out a yawn that alerts you to the time.
“Come on, let’s get you into bed so you’re not snoozing in school tomorrow.” You lower his pillow from where he’s propped it against the wall, but he doesn’t move from his spot.
“I wanna say good night to Baby Brother.” He rests his cheek on the swell of your stomach with his hand just above your belly button. “Good night, Baby Brother. I love you, and I can’t wait to meet you in…” he rotates his neck so you’re looking directly at his nostrils, “how many days?”
“Thirteen, if he comes on time,” you say, adding a gentle reminder, “but sometimes babies show up a little late, so he might not get here until closer to Thanksgiving.”
“Oh.” He considers this for a second, his gaze shifting back and forth from your belly to your eyes. “If he comes on Thanksgiving, do I still get to eat mashed potatoes?”
You shrug. “I don’t see why not. As long as you save some for me when I get home.”
Harris harrumphs at the prospect of sharing and you laugh, which gives you the urge to pee—again. “Sweet dreams, Har Bear.” You kiss his scalp again, slowly rising to flick off the light switch. There will be a time when he eschews the nickname, labeling it babyish, but it lives on for another day.
In your beeline for the bathroom, you find Eddie waiting just outside Harris’s room. His cheeks are pink as though he’s been caught, and you notice the glassiness coating his chocolate eyes.
“Eds? You okay?” You murmur the question under your breath, not wanting to alert Harris.
“Mhm. Yeah, ‘m fine.” He hooks his fingers into the white cotton sleeves of his undershirt and wipes at his face. “Just pregnancy hormones,” he teases with a soft chuckle, and you nudge his hip with yours. “Really, though; everything’s good.”
You want to press him further, but the full-term baby tap-dancing on your bladder has other plans, so you have to surrender.
Eddie sighs, contentment flooding his body as he blinks away the blurriness and closes Harris’s door. Domesticity has wrapped itself around him, and the softness with which you talk to Harris only has him falling deeper into its embrace.
He used to describe himself as lucky, but you’re always quick to point out that luck has nothing to do with it. He’s deserving of his little family and the unconditional love that comes with it.
But deserving doesn’t explain you showing up at the Hideout three years ago, or him picking you out of the crowd, or you being Harris’s teacher and fostering an awkward but necessary reunion. There’s a solid chance that he’d still be the angry and defensive man who’d shoved his dreams away, because holding hope that they would come to fruition was simply too scary to consider. But now, despite years of self-sabotage, he’s got everything he could ever want.
So, yeah. Eddie Munson is a lucky man.
--
#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie x you#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#fanfic#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things#tui
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💭rivals to lovers (100 followers special)
chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin
"i thought you wouldn't come to my exhibit," you heard hyunjin as he approached you. you didn't look at him, too stared into one of his paintings. you attended yet another of hyunjin's exhibitions in your local art gallery in the span of six months. he was thriving, it was almost as if the inspiration hadn't left him for once. you felt bittersweet about it. on the one hand you were truly amazed by his artworks. hyunjin's attention to detail always made you speechless and as an artist yourself, you examined his works and tried to incorporate the same details into your paintings. on the other hand however, you were jealous, so incredibly jealous - you wished your paintings were better, you wished for more exhibits, you wanted to amaze people as much as he did or even more. and even though you were appreciated by local art critics and media, you'd always felt as if your art was lacking something. that's why you and hyunjin were waging a silent battle among yourselves for the favour of critics and art lovers. after all, you also used to have exhibitions in this gallery in the past.
"it's always nice to know what i'm up against," you murmured, studying the canvas in front of you. "i always assumed you didn't like my art," he then said, taking one step closer to you and pointing at the painting. "i've never said i didn't like it," "then what do you think about it?" you took a moment to gather your thoughts. "it intrigues me, i appreciate it. you always know when to stop, it's like there are so many untold feelings and emotions within you, waiting to be set free," you answered his question. it was genuine - you've always thought hyunjin's art was exceptional. "you should write poetry, yn" he giggled under his nose. you missed the slight blush that appeared on his cheeks. "is it your attempt to make fun of my art?" "no, i'm just saying that you're really good with words," "and i'm even better with a brush," you replied confidently, finally turning to him and looking him in the eyes. you examined his look - he was grinning and you noticed his hair was way longer than the last time you saw each other. you wondered if they were as soft as you imagined. "how've you been lately?" hyunjin's voice helped you to come back to reality. "i've been quite good, thanks for asking," you replied simply, not wanting to get into details. he smiled, but something in it felt off. "that's great. did you paint anything? i haven't seen your works in a while," hyunjin then asked, it seemed as if he wanted to get into details. you shrugged your shoulders and once again turned to face the painting. you haven't seen your works in a while too. "i'm taking things slow for now," you mumbled, not wanting to admit to him how unmotivated you'd been in the last couple of months. hyunjin hummed at your words, a faint "mhm" left his mouth. you expected him to leave you for now, but instead you heard him speak after a while. "hey, why don't we go to dinner together?" you froze in your spot. a dinner with hyunjin? "my treat," he added, you could quite literally hear him smirk. you looked at him, but not as confidently as before. you studied his expression, his soft smile and friendly gaze made you oddly calm. after a moment you cleared your throat and spoke. "okay, let's go."
hyunjin drove you to one of the restaurants downtown. it wasn't anything extremely fancy, but it looked like a nice place. you sat across from each other, hyunjin's piercing gaze never leaving you. it felt weird, to say the least. you'd never really spent time with him outside of the gallery. quite frankly, hyunjin intimidated you. he was well known for many people in the city, mostly for his artwork, but also for his personal charm, which seemed to do the work. you always observed him from afar, too scared to get close to him. what you didn't know is that from the first time you met, hyunjin couldn't stop thinking about you and he would always make sure to approach you when he noticed you in a crowd. "now tell me, how've you really been lately?" hyunjin broke the silence between you two. you raised your eyebrows and scoffed. was he really curious or did he only want you to admit that you were struggling? "i told you i'm doing just fine," you mumbled in response. "oh, come on, you really think i'm gonna believe you? when was the last time you painted something then?" he proceeded to ask, sounding defeated. it made you dumbfounded, you'd never heard this tone from him before. "if you invited me here just to make fun of me then save it for yourself," you scoffed, but the tears were already weiling in your eyes. you looked down, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. hyunjin exhaled shakily, shocked by your words. he never wanted to make fun of you. sure, he was happy his paintings were appreciated by people and this whole rivalry thing was fun when you actually tried to make a better exhibit than him. and since you hadn't had any in months, he started to get worried for real. "you just seem… very off lately. as if your body is present but you aren't. and it hurts me to see such a talented person lose their spark," hyunjin whispered. "why do you even care?" you scoffed, wiping a single tear that fell down your cheek. god, that was humiliating. yet your heart was beating faster and your cheeks were getting hotter at the thought that hyunjin may genuinely care for you. he was staring at you, his smile long forgotten. you exhaled loudly. "it feels as if everything i do is pointless. i don't know why i feel this way, but it can't seem to stop. and when i sit in front of clean canvas i'm scared i'll ruin them," you uttered, more tears spilling from your eyes. hyunjin didn't waste any time, he gave you a few napkins from a dispenser and then took your hand in his. it startled you, but you didn't back off. "you've never ruined any canvas, yn. i heard people talk about your art, i read articles about it. art can be scary - but you can use your fear as your weapon and create something extraordinary with that. it's just so heartbreaking to see you like this. yn, please don't give up" you looked him in the eyes, completely astonished by his words, and squeezed his hand. "damn, hwang, you're so sappy," you giggled, wiping the last tears from your rosy cheeks. hyunjin laughed at that, feeling relieved. "hey, um… there's also something i wanted to talk to you about," he muttered suddenly, getting shy.
two months later you were standing in front of a painting in your local art gallery. two people sitting across each other, both of them in front of canvas. in the bottom left corner was your signature. it was your exhibit.
someone approached you and even though you didn't take your eyes off the painting, you knew exactly who was standing by your side. "i thought you wouldn't come to my exhibit," you recalled hyunjin's words and he softly laughed at that. "oh, i'm just looking for my rival's weaknesses.” you stole a glance at him, taking his hand in yours. “we both know that you’re my only weakness, hwang.”
feedback and reblogs highly appreciated🫶🏽
#skz#stray kids#stray kids fluff#stray kids headcanons#stray kids x reader#skz au#stray kids imagines#skz comfort#stray kids scenarios#stray kids comfort#skz hyunjin#stray kids hyunjin#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin x you#hwang hyunjin imagines#hyunjin#hyunjin scenarios#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin x reader
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Toji x bimbo girlfriend
A little something since I am so horny for animated and voiced Toji 🥵
Warnings: fem. reader, p in v sex, a litttle bit of angst at the end but it's toji we're talking about, so 🤷♀️
Imagine being Toji’s bimbo younger girlfriend. All cute and small, wearing all pink, wearing skimpy little shirts that barely cover you, showing your belly button. Maybe going out to tattoo a tramp stamp with something related to him after drinking too many cocktails with your girlfriends, giggling, and flirting with tattoo artist to only meet with Toji’s facepalm when he initially sees it. Only later he oh so enjoys looking at it when he blows your back out.
Going out with him to Downtown, barely dressed in anything but feeling completely secure cause everyone is terrified of your mountain of a boyfriend. Ending up drinking almost till you blackout, but not worrying about anything, since Toji will be still cognizant enough to carry you back home.
Being his good luck charm when he’s playing pachinko or placing bets on sports/horse racing etc. and receiving tons of open-mouthed kisses with ‘muah’ sound whenever he wins.
Going out to clubs and dancing till morning, while he leisurely sits back on the couch, with half-lidded eyes and sips his drink while watching you move your body seductively.
Waking up from the doorbell ringing in the dead of night and seeing Toji all covered in blood standing at the doorframe. Patching him up in the kitchen with him begrudgingly receiving your attention and affections still trying to shoo you off cause it’s nothing serious.
You heating up food for him and sitting there in the middle of the night watching your lover eating hungrily, even if it’s mostly leftover delivery food since you can’t care less for cooking, he still eats everything thanking you afterwards.
Imagine giving him head afterwards in shower first when he washes off all the grime and blood off of him, you standing on your knees and sucking him off, barely reaching his cock while you’re down, chocking and almost gagging because of how big he is, feeling how Toji finally relaxes under your touch and becomes less tense.
Him taking you to your bed and fucking you then and there without a prelude in doggy style, his hands roughly squishing your hips while his dick plunges so deep inside you that you feel the heavenly mix of pain and pleasure, his heavy balls slapping your pussy so good with each thrust.
Him making you come again and again, so overstimulated already, heaving a ton of his cum inside you, but him still going strong, fucking you your knees firmly pressed to your breasts while he mixes praise and degradation and yes, you truly are his favorite delicate pillow princess and a shameless whore only hungry for his cock.
Him spending a week or two with you to only disappear for month again, cause even if Toji enjoys having you by his side, you’re still a nice distraction for him, not a person he truly loves if he can even still feel it towards someone.
my inspiration:
#toji x you#toji x reader#toji smut#toji headcanons#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jjk headcanons#toji fushiguro#lion writes#Spotify
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The original plushie
Steddie | G | ~4.1k | AO3 link
This fanart of Eddie sleeping with a bunch of stuffed toys by @baleful-blurbs infected my brain and refused to leave until this ridiculous fluffy thing got written 😭 Please make sure to reblog those wonderful sketches to support the artist who inspired the plushie silliness♥️
Featuring: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, seriously beware of cavities, Light Angst, Plushies, Childhood Memories, POV Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Requited Love, Cuddling, Getting Together, Boys In Love
The mortifying ordeal of Eddie's crush discovering his secret plushie cuddle nest turns out to be not so mortifying after all. Steve even starts borrowing said plushies to take back home with him; some time later, Eddie finds out why.
Snippet under the cut
“Who’s this?” Steve asks, grinning as he pokes at the teddy’s ridiculous smiley face.
“Oh. That’s… that’s Mr. Boogers.” Eddie huffs and rolls his eyes. “Please don’t ask.”
Still grinning, Steve turns to him. “Well, now you know I gotta.”
Eddie groans, rubbing a hand across his flustered face, and figures he might as well tell the story now that he’s dug his own grave. “He was, uh… kinda defective from the start, there were some stitches loose around his nose and there was stuffing coming out of it, like… well…”
Steve giggles. “Boogers. Gotcha.”
“Yeah. Wayne grumbled about it and wanted to ask for a different one, but I was already in love with this one and clung to him and refused to trade. Cos like, you know how plushies of the same type are supposed to be identical but they’re really not ? And one of them has that perfect face and the others just seem off?”
Eddie blushes, thinking now would be the moment he finally gets ridiculed for being twenty years old and having strong opinions on plushie faces of all things, but Steve just smiles and nods.
“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I once spilled some gouache on a Mickey Mouse I owned and instead of washing him, mom just bought me a new one of the same series.” Steve sighs. “It was obvious 'cos his eyes were a little closer together and his smile wasn’t crooked to the left. I knew he wasn’t the same Mickey.”
Again, Eddie’s heart aches for little Steve, like pretty much any time the boy reveals stories from his childhood in a tone too lighthearted for the words spoken, in Eddie’s opinion. Rich people really don’t value anything, huh. (With Steve being the obvious exception.)
“Yeah, see? You get it!” Eddie exclaims, pointing at Steve and putting more excitement into the words than he feels. Mostly, he just feels relieved and pleasantly surprised at how unexpectedly he and Steve managed to bond over their shared fondness for their childhood toys. “So anyway, Wayne relented and we took this funny guy home, my uncle patched him up, but the nickname stuck. Mr. Boogers. Boogie for short.”
Steve laughs again, but there’s nothing malicious about it as he looks back to the teddy in his lap and flicks his ear.
“Nice to meet you, Boogie,” he says with an affectionate smile that makes Eddie want to burrow his face into the mattress and giggle like an idiot.
And maybe scream a little, because what the fuck. It should be illegal for your crush to talk cute to your goddamn childhood plushies.
Whole fic on AO3
#steddie#steddie fic#misha-bawlins fanfic#fanfic#fluff#steddie fluff#seriously god bless fandom artists being an endless source of inspiration
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purple.
⚘pairing: rafayel x gn!reader
⚘summary: for the first time, rafayel asks for your help with his latest painting.
⚘tags: sfw, oneshot, 2nd person POV, gender-neutral reader, fluff, mutual understanding, a lot of metaphors, blushy rafayel bc boy can BLUSH
⚘word count: 943
⚘a/n: hi!! i started playing l&ds two weeks ago and i am HOOKED. rafayel is my favourite, and so i was inspired to try writing his voice! this is my first l&ds writing so thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy~!
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
As usual, the door to Rafayel's home studio is unlocked. You push it open and slip inside, removing your shoes. The heat of your bare feet sticks against the surprisingly cool hardwood floor as you move into the room.
Rafayel is actually where you expect him to be for once, headfirst in a painting you haven't seen before. You sigh and get ready to settle in for a while, knowing how absorbed he gets when inspiration hits. He probably didn't even hear you come in. So it catches you off guard when he actually speaks first.
"Hey. Come over here," he says as he slides a thick, wet stroke of paint onto the canvas, never looking away.
You oblige without fuss, mainly because his tone is so airy and earnest that you feel being mischievous right now would go over his head. You stop next to him.
"What do you think?" He asks, still gazing at his work.
You puff air out your nose. "You're asking for my thoughts? That's a new one."
He finally looks at you then, his expression just as light and floaty as his voice had been. It's not a side of Rafayel that you're used to, but it's one you find most interesting—the one where he's so deep in artistic expression that he himself has become one with his canvas. An abstract impression of its own creator. A secluded forest monk reaching a state of nirvana like sunlight's warmth on his face.
You don't see it often, since he paints in solitude and you get him out of the house more than he bargained for, but it's the rare intrigue of it that makes this Rafayel all the more special.
"Just tell me," he says simply.
You finally take a good look at the artwork perched on the easel.
It's gorgeous and colourful, his trademark thick strokes, playful yet meticulous and reminiscent of sea foam, present a scene that is at once novel and familiar. It's significantly warmer than most of his other paintings, liberally using more reds and purples alongside his usual blues, as if plucked directly from a sunset.
Knowing Rafayel, if he could do just that, he would.
And yet, as lovely as it is, you can't help but feel like something's... off. The canvas is nicely underpainted, but the centre is dreadfully blank. The painting has no focal point.
"It's missing something," you point out. He hums a thoughtful "mhm" in reply, as if those were the exact words he was waiting to hear.
Suddenly, he turns the paintbrush on you. You realize, a bit delayed, that he's holding it out as an offering.
"I want you to add something to it."
"Huh? Me?" He doesn't respond right away, so you continue. "What would you want me to do?"
Rafayel shakes his head, but there's a gentle smile on his lips. "If I told you what to do, then I might as well just do it myself."
His smile remains as silence grows between the two of you, a silent invitation beckoning a leap of faith. You break his gaze to turn back to the canvas, the gaping void in the centre like an eye of the storm, pulling you in and yet blowing you in every direction. What could you possibly add to this piece that Rafayel couldn't?
"I thought you hated people messing with your work. This is a trick, isn't it?"
He shakes his head again, his soft messy purple curls tickling his lashes. "Kinda a lame trick. And annoying. I put a lot of hard work into this already, only for it to go to waste like that..." he says, and the pouty Rafayel you're more accustomed to is back. "Besides, you're not 'people'. You're you."
"And what exactly does that mean?"
"It means you know what this painting needs. You'll treat it well. You know my vision for it more than anyone else because, well... my vision is you." His voice trails down to a whisper.
You look at the painting once more, with new eyes. This painting... is you?
"Rafayel..." you say, unable to say much else.
He takes your hesitation gently, holding it like a hand and guiding it along, taking the reins and allowing you to find your footing again. "It looks different from my other pieces, right? I'm sure you noticed. That's because you make me different. Not like I've changed for you or anything, but more like... I've changed because of you. You know?"
"Um...? Not really," you reply sincerely.
He taps his chin thoughtfully. "You're red where I'm blue. And together, we make purple." He breathes out a laugh. "It sounds so simple when I put it like that. It's not that simple at all. Nothing about you is simple. You're annoying and loud and strong and everything I'm not, and yet somehow we blend together so well that I don't know how I was able to be content with being blue for so long. I want to be blue, and red, and purple. But only your shade of red will do."
He pauses, his ears a dark shade of the exact colour he speaks of. His eyes are pleading, as if saying 'understand me as I understand you', and before he can open his mouth to spout more abstract nonsense, you dip the brush in red—a perfect match to the hue blooming in his face. You are in this colour as much as he is.
"I think I know what to do now," you say, and your red splatters over his blue, mingling purple like summer plums, sweet and sour and bursting.
#love and deepspace rafayel#love and deepspace#rafayel#rafayel x reader#fics#i love him soso much......
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“Ethereal Paintings”
*:･ﾟ✧Scaramouche X Fm!Reader-> Social media au
“Bastards who want to learn art should respect it’s origin”
Main Synopsis-> When you were required to help the new transfer student the history of art from the two weeks he missed. He didn’t know you were the one artist he was inspired by. You grow fond of each other but stay at a flirting stage. But finding out that he’s a dreaded a.i user; your mortal art enemy; everything in your relationship is obliterated. Will he be able to reconcile and steal your he-art♡ once again?
Genre-> College art students, strangers to crushes to enemies to lovers, college setting, crack and slight angst, gremlin scara, soft scara
Warnings-> Swearing, alcohol, obsessive hate, kms/kys jokes, rants, suggestive(will show warning), more to be added. . .
Notes-> This all came to me when I was raging over an A.I. art article then brain went on from there. [REDACTED] = A.I. Art. Scara smau’s are always enemies to lovers💔 but they are still fun to read. This is my first Smau!! Pls be nice eueue.
Status-> Trying to speedily update…
The 5 pillars of deprivation{Y/N’s} || Accounts
Death’s door is close {Scara’s} || Accounts
{☂️/☔️=Written}
I SKETCHING. . . {S-trangers}
01~ Copyright is a thing | 02~ Transfer students and a task☂️
03~ Denied | 04~ Caffeine overdose
05~ Extra sausy | 06~ Inconspicuous(not) ☂️
07~ Convenience ☂️
08~ Closet Uno torture method | 08.5~ Gremlin beauty standard
09~ Fire and ice do(n’t) go together | 10~ Drunken haze party ☂️
II PAINTING. . . {P-assion}
11~ Hang(out)over | 12~ Study dater | 13~ Free art exhibit
14~ Be my muse co-artist☂️ | 15~ She’s what?!who?!
16~ Shy scarameow | 17~ Touch grass
18~ Inazuman reunion☂️ | 19~ Let me ask you one thing…
19.5~ Given name | 20~ Corkscrew board of emotions☔️
III RENDERING. . . {R~esentment)
21~ Stage one denial☔️ | 22~ Feels like shit
23~ Suffocating in quicksand | 24~ Pressure me
25~ Anxiety attack | 26~ Do not perceive my impending doom☔️
27~ Sickness in health | 28~ Beauty in recollection
29~ Running away is easy | 30~ It’s the leaving that’s hard
IV PRESENTING. . . {P-artners}
31~ tba. . . | 32~ tba. . .
33~ tba. . . | 34~ tba. . .
35~ tba. . . . .
Art show finale*:･ﾟ✧
Taglist-> Ask to be added!! {Open!!} 41/50(? I lost track💀)
@akagism2 @pokidot @feiherp @kyouzki @rmiyuki @infe-risk0 @sakurapeach @bluebelony @kichiyoshi @mikctp @kur44pika @cupids-chamber @crucnhice @neigesprincess @scaramoo @gojoandelsalovechilde @childeslegstrap @sakiimeo @d4y-dr3am3r @m3gitsune @scarletttcroww @sashiette @beriiov @rizakari @xiaossocksniffer @lxry-chxn @bryai003 @eunchaeluvr @goj0h @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @sketcheeee @ozzierenato @ohmyfinggod @kiyomi-hoku @ynverse @featuredtofu @reinoodle @angeilix @keizuk @sayokeshii @liuaneee
#astronetwrk#genshin impact#genshin smau#social media au#scaramouche x reader#scara x reader#scara smau#scaramouche#genshin x y/n#text fic#genshin screenshots#scara social media au#genshin impact smau#scara x y/n#scara x you#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche x you#masterlist*:･ﾟ✧
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May I req a top!bangchan x bot!mreader where the male reader had past memory with bang chan when they had a big fight in the kitchen but bang chan make it out for the mreader by dancing him the kitchen *its inspired to taylor's 'all too well' cuz I want to cry af so make it more angst and a little bit fluff* In the present they met again in an art museum and its up to you whether they'd be back together or not (if not make it more angsty)
PS: I LOVE UR WORKS ❤️💯😘
all too well ( bang chan )
top!chan x btm!male!reader
chan meets an ex lover after a long time apart.
content : 0.9k words, angst/kinda fluffish at the end
( a/n ) i changed this just a little bit but i hope you like it <33
y/n blinked away the tears that were welling up in his eyes. he took a deep breath and looked at his boyfriend, who was standing across from him in his kitchen. the room was dark with the exception of the light that came from y/n's refrigerator, which neither of them had bothered to close yet.
chan was silent. his gaze continued to rest on y/n, face softly illuminated by the refrigerator light. the pair had been arguing for a bit, and they were both exhausted.
"chan, i'm sorry. i don't know what you expect me to do. quit my job?"
"no..! i know you love your job, but.. i don't know, i barely feel like i have a boyfriend anymore. you're just always working."
y/n sighed and rubbed his face.
"okay so, do you wanna plan more dates or something?"
"we've tried that already. you always end up busy and there's just not much time to be together," chan muttered in response. a scoff left y/n's lips in turn.
"well, babe, i'm really trying to work with you here..!" y/n's slightly raised voice made himself wince. he sighed again and clenched his fists out of frustration. "i've worked so hard to get to the position i'm at with this job, chan. i can't just put my responsibilities aside whenever i want. i literally take out my calendar to try and sort out my schedule to make time for us. is that just not enough anymore?"
chan was quiet again. the next words that left his mouth made y/n's heart sink.
"no, maybe it's not.."
three years later
"oh, i love this one," minho said quietly. chan nodded in agreement after following his friend's gaze to the next painting on the wall.
chan's head soon turned in different directions, realization hitting him. "uh.. i think we lost seungmin."
minho's brows raised at this, also looking around for their third friend.
"i'll find him, you keep going around the museum," chan assured.
as he started walking around more in search of his missing friend, his eyes soon found a familiar face. it definitely wasn't seungmin though.
y/n stood alone, looking up at a sculpture that was a ways away. his hair had grown out a little and he was wearing a rather nice outfit. chan felt his heart skip a beat, unable to tear his gaze away from his ex-boyfriend. and soon, y/n's own gaze met chan's after looking around while he moved to the next artwork in the exhibit. they now stood in silence, eyes locked from across the room.
when y/n finally looked away, a small smile lifted at the corner of chan's lips. y/n was always the shy one between them and chan couldn't deny that he loved it. the way his eyes would flicker away and the rosy pink color would blossom on his cheeks made chan want to gush at how cute he was.
after some debate in his head, chan finally decided to go stand beside him. he gazed up at the same painting that y/n had moved over to.
"you always liked this artist," chan said happily.
y/n looked over at him, a little lost for words. he simply nodded before looking back at the painting.
"so, how you been?" chan asked, clearly determined.
y/n looked at him again. "what are you doing?"
"making conversation. is that wrong?"
y/n frowned.
"you know i don't like small talk, so yes, that's wrong."
"oh right," chan quickly responded. "okay, i'll think of a better question.. mm.. would you like to get some coffee with me?"
y/n turned to chan in surprise.
"coffee..?"
"or tea if that's better," chan suggested. he could see the gears turning in y/n's head before his attention went right back to the painting in front of them.
"i'm looking at art right now," y/n answered with a blatant tone.
chan nodded, still smiling. he could tell the other was just being stubborn.
"alright, take your time. i can wait."
y/n stayed quiet. they both continued to admire the museum's works for a few minutes. y/n would travel between art pieces, chan following patiently as if he were looking on his own.
"tell you what," chan finally spoke quietly, "there's a coffee place right across the street from here. i think i'll go sit there for, maybe.. the next half hour? maybe i'll see you there."
y/n looked back at chan one more time, now watching him give a sweet smile before he turned to to leave. he walked back over to minho, seungmin still missing somewhere else in the museum.
"was that..?"
chan nodded at the question from minho. "y/n," he finished for him.
"shit.." minho mumbled.
"we're gonna go get coffee i think."
minho looked over at y/n, who seemed to be staying put.
"you are?.. he doesn't seem to be going anywhere."
chan smiled and nodded.
"well, i invited him to come for coffee, at least. i think he's just being stubborn right now. he'll meet me there, don't worry."
"..how do you know?"
"i just know, i guess," chan answered in confidence. "i know him all too well."
#kpop x male reader#male reader#stray kids x male reader#skz x male reader#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#bang chan x male reader#bang chan x reader#bang chan#chan x reader
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Hi! I made an account just so I could follow your work. Your art is brilliant and honestly and inspiration to where I want to be. I’m an older artist who has all the anxiety when it comes to improving my process. I’m trying to get into digital portraits and I have so many ideas in my head, but it’s frustrating because I’m not where I want to be to make this happen. What are some tricks that help you/software do you use? Of course, you don’t have to share anything that makes you uncomfortable. I currently have procreate and an iPad, but I feel a little lost. Wondering if I need a different writing tablet and photoshop. Not sure. I just eventually want to find that 3D, but also artistic look you are able to achieve.
hey there! thank you so much!!
ultimately, I will sound like a broken record but I always recommend you sign up for local figure drawing or painting classes. have people pose for you at home and sketch with charcoal and paper. go to the zoo and sit down in front on an exhibit for an hour and try to draw the animals in front of you as fast as you can and fill a couple of pages, move on to a new exhibit and do it again!
nothing is more powerful of a tool to learn than whatever writing utensil you have in your purse and the back of a napkin when you see something you'd like to capture. I've spent quite frankly my entire rememberable life doing this. I used to spend every single day in middle school/high school/my brief failed stint in community college with a pack of cheap sharpies and a beat up binder full of old worksheets and homework to draw on the backs of.
drawing/painting from life will teach you better than anything.
I use a very outdated version of Photoshop, and only got a "nice" tablet in the past 7 months.
Also, a huge tip to you and anyone else reading this: do NOT get too focused on a "style" that you want. Obsessing over that just ruined me for years and years. I wanted so, so, so badly to be the next Matsuri Hino when I was a kid. I copied her work religiously and it NEVER looked right. Frustrated me to no end. And you know why my stuff never looked like hers? Because I'm not her! You can't force your art to come out any way that isn't natural, and the sooner you can accept the art your hand wants to create, the happier you'll be and the easier art will get for you.
The past couple of years before I started diving into this more realism based work, I was just shoving myself through trying to make what art I envied of others. Very stylized/textured watercolor comic book style stuff. And I just was NOT getting any better at it. I have always been more inclined toward realism work, but I've hated it and yearned for stylized work. Yoshitaka Amano? God, I just drooled over that artstyle and beat myself up for never being able to capture it in studies or otherwise.
I finally essentially restructured my entire career around making the art that makes me happy instead of what I "wanted" it to look like. I was extremely depressed, my life was falling apart, and I still needed to make art to survive but I couldn't "art" if I was depressed and hated doing it, so I just had to step back and stop worrying so much about what I thought I wanted to make, and started making what felt most natural.
there's no easy way, and art can be a soul destroying path at times, truly. your software and hardware should come very last place compared to practicing from life (it doesn't matter if you want to paint cartoony stuff of realistic stuff, always start from life). naturally you will find what makes your heart sing the most.
I get a lot of messages from people telling me similar stuff "oh your art is EXACTLY what I want to do!" but I promise you that kind of thought process is chasing a dragon that is likely to harm or drag your creative process down. art style is such a deeply personal thing, so of COURSE it's important to find inspiration, but the second looking at someone else's artwork stops inspiring you and starts frustrating you, put it away.
There are some artists who I love, that I do not check up on often because their artwork ignites, like, serious bitter jealousy in me. It's the truth. I get so mad at myself for not being more like them, and it's such a poison. I think more artists should be transparent about this feeling because I KNOW the art community has a lot of jealousy and ugliness in it.
A fact of being an artist is that you will never be completely happy with a piece you make. You are always going to see the flaws, and that doesn't change whether you'd been drawing for 2 months or 20 years. Occasionally, you will get one piece that you are like "how did I make that???" and then get frustrated that you can't recreate it lol! It's a tough beast.
It's just really important to step back and work on yourself and where you are at, because at the end of the day, the way your soul wants to express artwork might be WILDLY different from what your brain wants, and it can be really detrimental to let those two go to war.
I hope this helps. I'm very passionate about this, and when I started out I ALWAYS ignored the artists who gave the same exact tips as above. I thought they were so annoying and unhelpful, but now I /get it/.
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What if Lyla is actually based on Miguel‘s eventually dead wife in the movie? Since in the comics she’s based on Marilyn Monroe but I’m not sure what Miguel’s inspiration for her would’ve been in the movie, so maybe they went for something completely different here. Especially since Gabriella also kiiinda resembles her? Like, don’t get me wrong, she completely comes after her father, even the hairline! But it’s easy to see some similarities to Lyla as well, if the theory would be right.
About that !!
Yes Lyla’s based off Marilyn Monroe in the comics, but it was because he was inspired by Xina Kwan’s tattoo of her since she’s a twencen (twentieth century) history enthusiast
Honestly, in the film, I picture her being Asian in design (and I think the developmental artists were feeling that too) as a possible more direct reference back to Xina
By Amanda Jolly
Not meant to overstep on the theory but I thought it’d be fun to insert my two cents with the design context !! It’d be nice to picture Miguel and Xina finally getting together and being on good terms, but it hurts to imagine her dying at any point :((
I’m not 100% sure if Miguel would want a constant reminder of his dead love screwing with him all the time though, but then again he does surround himself (or punish himself) with reminders of his daughter all the time soooo,, idk!! It’s up in the air and there’s a lot of ways to take this idea.
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i really love your account, especially your comics. you manage to keep all the characters so unique and pretty expressive while nailing anatomy and angles ighhhhhits so good man. how did you learn to draw? how did you learn anatomy and then how did you learn comics and shit? do you have major inspirations you look to or accounts or exercises? i hope these questions are ok i’m very curious, i’ve started drawing again after stopping because of uni and while it’s slowly coming back i’m struggling with consistency and getting expressiveness
Ahh thank you so much!!
I started drawing really young by just copying cartoons I liked and then graduated to “how to draw manga” books. I was fairly self taught in that way until I got into art college~
I feel like everything I learned has been almost completely through observation. There’s a lot to be learned from just looking at something and breaking it down to it’s core elements whether it’s anatomy, the cinematography of a movie or a comic book spread. Really analyzing why someone makes the choices they do and applying it to your own work.
College is where I learned the technical terminology for things in storyboarding and I could finally put words to the things I was observing in the movies and tv shows I was watching, which in turn, allowed me to use those techniques more effectively. After that’s it’s just finding your style and breaking the rules in a way that makes sense to you~
Being a storyboard artist/director at disney has also helped me shape my writing style as well as the way I like to stage shots for my comics (which are more of a storyboard style than comic style imo). I’ve learned a lot of efficiencies and tricks on how to make things nice and clear when drawing stuff.
So yeah! Just observe!! Look at real life, look at things that inspire you, look at other artists and really break down and analyze how they do things!
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lol feeling a bit angsty today, thinking about matty and taylor and the timeline of things lol. but Jamie was at the concert tonight with matty and maybe he travelled with our beloved dh assistant. And matty and taylor are together now and assistant had to be professional and maybe she’s dazzling the room with her professionalism and her charisma, but maybe she has a full blown panic attack about it all when she has a moment to think about the whole thing, maybe needs some air and maybe matty finds her having her moment and doesn’t know what to do
OH this inspired me to do a fic, rather than a blurb. beware of angst (but it's an AU and i am not doing a part 2 lol everything is actually nice in d word matty-land. also for a partial explanation of dh assistant being there, it's bea opening alongside phoebe and you're there for vaguely manager-y stuff. and matty plays during bea's set but not for pheebs lol. it'll make sense in-fic!)
gone four weeks
the irony of walking into the stadium while taylor is soundchecking 'midnight rain' isn't lost on you.
following jamie towards the small group of people gathered at the front of the stage, you try not to focus on the lyrics, or the familiar mess of curls moving side to side in time to the music ahead of you, or the melancholy blooming in your skin at the whole situation.
you should be excited. ecstatic. elated, for fuck's sake. you're seeing one of your label's artists - and a fairly good friend of yours to boot - support taylor swift, an artist you've enjoyed and admired since you were an actual kid. instead, you're feeling worse with every passing step, bile and tears threatening to spill out of various facial orifices as you get close enough to hear matty singing along quietly and say something to bea.
it's only been four weeks since you last heard him, but the inflections of matty's voice seem completely unfamiliar to you. they say that the voice is the first memory you lose of someone after a death - apparently, this also applies to the death of a relationship. that, or he's let his accent be influenced by his new girlfriend, aka the beautiful, capable woman singing onstage right now.
bea glances over her shoulder and grins at the sight of you and jamie, walking to meet you and opening her arms out to hug you both in turn. your boss moves on to hug matty too, but you stay put, bea's arm over your shoulder; matty makes no effort to near you, either, staying a good few paces away from you. whether he's trying to avoid overstepping any boundaries or preparing for a duel with you, you can't decide. the former, probably, from the way he nods politely at you and asks "you alright? the flight was ok, i take it?"; you smile emotionlessly back at him - an easy feat, considering your body has gone numb from the sheer agony of seeing him again - and answer affirmatively to both. matty nods again, and gets a look on his face that you instantly recognise as "i have something i want to say to you", but he's interrupted by taylor's arrival on the stadium floor before he can.
despite yourself, and the awkward situation you're all in, you can't help but be awed by her - tall and graceful and even prettier in person, that famously-red-lipstick-lined smile so dazzling and contagious that you begin to genuinely smile too in response. you keep it up even when she hugs matty and he kisses her head sweetly, despite your want to scream at the fact that his lips are on her and not you. but you keep calm, keep smiling, no matter how sore or fake it feels, and remind yourself that it's partially your own fault he isn't kissing you any more.
the smile becomes genuine again when taylor comes over to you and introduces herself, sweeping you into a big hug accompanied by a "so amazing to finally meet you! i'm a big fan of your work in keeping the label running", the latter sentence followed by a wry smile.
"you're a big... what?" you splutter, pulling away. "i don't even do much!"
"oh, please," taylor sighs. "everyone - jamie included, by the way - says you're the mastermind behind everything. i think we have that in common."
out of the corner of your eye, you see matty wince at taylor likening the two of you. good, you think. let him be uncomfortable. "well, you are the reason i got into music," you say, smiling. "i picked up a guitar for the first time after hearing 'fearless'. i mean, i did put it back down when i realised i was kinda shit and my interest in music would be better served elsewhere, but still. thank you for that."
"that's so cool!" taylor squeals, pulling you into another hug. after it ends, she turns to matty with an accusatory look. "i can't believe you wouldn't tell me this! i thought you said she was your best friend."
ouch. you sink your teeth into the back of your bottom lip as you shift your gaze to matty, attempting to keep your face expressionless in spite of the friendzoning revelation wound. he looks apologetic - whether towards you or taylor, though, you can't tell. "to be fair, i didn't actually know that."
"yeah. you don't know everything about me, healy" you reply, your attempt at lightheartedness falling a bit flat amidst the slight tension of the conversation.
matty scoffs. "i know enough."
the loaded comment stings, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes to match it. luckily, bea moves the discussion onto something else all technical and musical, giving you the opportunity to pull out your phone and pretend to be answering emails so that you don't have to look at matty and have him see you're upset. he notices, though, of course he does - matty knows your body movements like nobody else, like the back of his own calloused hand, and the events of four weeks ago mean he's also well-acquainted with what you look like when you're hurt. if you looked up for even a split-second and met your ex-boyfriend's gaze, you would see the clear regret and concern for you in his dark eyes; you don't, though, you keep your eyes on your phone until the soundcheck resumes and you and jamie are dragged off by taylor's parents to talk management and business.
and you're alright, initially, for the next few hours - you're busy having work-related discussions about promotion and marketing and getting some insider knowledge into taylor's career and the tour itself, which is eye-opening for you from both a career perspective and as a fan. bea's set is a bit of a challenge to get through, what with matty making a surprise appearance part-way through to play guitar on some of the songs he co-wrote with her; for the most part, though, you can zone him out, and focus on the fact that your friend and client - a girl not too much younger than you - is playing a stadium show on one of the biggest concert tours in history, cheering bea on proudly and singing along.
phoebe's set is different. sure, you don't have to see matty onstage - come to think of it, you don't know where he is. before you can stop it, a memory of you and matty together crosses your mind; a pre-show fuck in a random dressing room in buenos aires, an encounter that matty later claimed was "the reason why that show was our best ever". you briefly wonder if that's what he's up to now with taylor, her long legs wrapped around him, before choking both the thought and the vomit in your mouth back down to the circle of your own personal hell they appeared from, and focusing as best you can on the performance in front of you. which is a mistake, really, considering phoebe's set consists of all the songs you listened to non-stop after you and matty called it quits; by the time the intro to moon song begins, you're holding back sobs, quietly backing out of the vip tent and entering the inner corridors of the stadium.
you have no idea where you're going, but that doesn't bother you - the song is muffled by steel and concrete, so it's less painful, and your all-access pass means security just wave you through doors without stopping you. finally, you find a deserted spot in a corridor by the stairs, where you slump to the floor and just cry, overwhelmed by the jet lag and the emotions of phoebe's songs and your shitty love life and this whole fucking day in general. head in your hands and sobbing loudly, you don't notice the footsteps hurrying towards you, only registering the fact you're not alone anymore when a familiar voice speaks. "oh, princess."
matty, crouched down so he's eye level with you, looking sadder than you've ever seen him - well, with the exception of four weeks ago, that is. your lip trembles at the sight of him, and you cry even harder, speaking through wails. "please don't call me that, matty."
"sorry, sorry - force of habit," matty says quickly. "are you ok? actually, stupid fucking question, you're clearly not, but... i had to say something. i hate seeing you upset."
"well, you've been pretty good at making me that way recently."
matty sighs, moving to sit beside you against the wall. "could say the same for you, you know."
"really making me feel better here, man."
"sorry."
there's silence for a minute - your breathing is beginning to regulate, just out of the muscle and sense memories brought back by nothing more than matty sitting closely beside you, and you fucking hate it. with a sigh, you break it. "i'm sorry about what happened, you know. i just... got scared. didn't mean to be hurtful."
"s'fine," matty shrugs. "i'm sorry i ever brought it up."
"hey, less of that," you turn to matty, touching his arm softly. "it's what you want, and it's good you mentioned it, even if i panicked and disagreed. really."
matty makes a noncommittal sound. "i just hate that i ended up hurting you with it. i never want to do that, regardless of if we're together or not."
"same here."
with a small smile at you, matty checks the time on his phone. "phoebe's almost finished. you coming back down?"
"in a minute," you nod. "you go ahead."
matty gives you a quizzical look, but leaves with a "see you in a min" when you wave him away. taking a few deep breaths, you wipe your eyes and listen to phoebe's voice resonating through the stadium before you follow matty.
anyway, don't be a stranger...
#mads muses#mads answers asks#matty asks#angst asks#d word matty#matty healy x reader#matty x reader
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Dear Church of Ezrabine,
Today I will add a few more pebbles to the mountain of evidence for our beloved ship. I present to you: Rebel Adventures.
This children’s book from 2017 is actually a reprint collection of three books originally published in 2014-2015: Meet the Rebels, Rebel Power, and Darth Vader, Rebel Hunter.
The second book in the collection, Rebel Power, has a two-page spread called “Ezra’s Album,” a collection of his favorite photographs of his new family.
First there is a picture of Ezra in his Imperial Stormtrooper Cadet uniform. He has captioned this picture with “I look pretty good in my uniform.” From this we might speculate upon the following:
1. Ezra is probably aware of the fact that he is a handsome lad. ✨
2. Ezra has probably heard the galaxy’s equivalent of the saying “Women love a man in uniform.” 😘
3. Ezra has probably worn stolen or salvaged second-hand clothing since he was a little boy, so even if he hates the Empire, he’s proud of the fact that he’s a Loth-rat that “cleans up nicely.” He probably thinks he looks cool. 😎
With those thoughts going through his mind, what two photos does he display next? I’ll give you a hint. Both pictures have something to do with the girl he has a crush on: Sabine Wren.
First is a photo of the mural that Sabine painted of him and Zeb when their bunk collapsed due to Chopper’s naughty little prank. Sabine painted this to commemorate this hilarious, embarrassing incident. Ezra captioned the photo of the painting as follows: “Check out this graffiti in my room. Sabine made it just for me.”
From this caption we know the following:
1. Ezra wants whoever sees his album to know that Sabine has been in his room. That’s probably a big deal to him because it hasn’t ever happened before.
2. Whether or not his assumption is true, Ezra thinks that Sabine made this art just for him. After all, he always did want to be her inspiration. Even if the painting was intended to gently make fun of him and Zeb, Ezra is touched that she has finally painted his likeness and is probably wondering if she will do it again.
The next photo is a close-up of the artist herself, Sabine, with a somewhat awkward but cute smile. Ezra doesn’t comment on Sabine’s picture because anything he would write would probably reveal too much about his hidden feelings for her. Note that Ezra made comments under all of the other photos of the Ghost Crew. Also notice that Sabine’s photo is positioned closest to his, perhaps because, even though we know he loves Kanan, Zeb, Hera, and Chopper, he loves Sabine the most. He can’t put that in writing where anyone might see it!
Anyway, I thought this was a cute addition to all of the other “sacred” texts that I have studied.
Don’t stop shipping, Sabezraites.
I have spoken.
#sabine wren#ezra bridger#star wars#sabezra#star wars rebels#ezrabine#kanan jarrus#zeb orellios#hera syndulla#chopper#Rebel adventures#Rebel Power
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Witches Can Be Good | Supernatural x Scarlet Witch! Reader - Part 1
This is intended to be a short story/one shot. I wrote this when I had a sudden idea of a crossover between Supernatural and the Scarlet Witch. Also available on my Wattpad and Quotev! Enjoy!
This inspired by a tumblr post: The Sweet Old Lady is a Witch by Thera. I really love her Wanda/Y/n OC and the story!
Here's her story: https://thera-daydreams.tumblr.com/post/658041636626022400/
Supernatural x Scarlet Witch! Reader
I do not own Marvel or Supernatural.
Part 1 (You are here) *~* Part 2 *~* Part 3 *~* Part 4???
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Part 1: Into the World of Supernatural
Wanda was done and tired.
After going through the multiverse with Dr. Strange and Loki, after Westview, after sacrificing everything over and over and over again Wanda was done and tired.
She looked tiredly towards the two friends that had grown on her. The two friends that had become brothers to her. Sensing her stare they turned to her, silence questioning in their eyes as she smiled tiredly at them.
"I think I'm done."
...
"... you're done...?" Dr. Strange repeated, not fully understanding what Wanda was implying.
"I'm tired, Stephen. I want to relax, sit down for a while... maybe watch the flowers grow."
Loki looked at her with a contemplative look before nodding, "Where will you go?"
"Anywhere but here." Wanda automatically responded, "I don't care if there's heroes there or anything really. As long as the world is somewhat normal and similar and they leave me alone, anywhere is fine."
Both Strange and Loki looked at each other before carefully taking Wanda's hands in theirs, a gesture that they had come up with to comfort each other. They had all gotten close together after all they had went through.
"We'll call you if we need you." Strange commented.
"And we'll keep in touch." Loki added, elbowing Strange who lightly glared back at him, "We won't bother you too often. Go live your 'normal' life."
"You deserve it." Strange tried to redeem himself, gaining a small grin from Wanda. "Just try not to cause any trouble. Or rather, trouble we'll have to intercept in." Loki elbowed him again.
"I'll try my best." Wanda only smiled, squeezing her hands that held theirs before letting go. "I better get going now."
"See you around Wanda."
"I think a fresh start needs a new name, doesn't it?" Strange said suddenly.
"Strange I think that's the first good idea I've heard come from your mouth." Loki scoffed, grinning as Strange looked at him offended. "I've always been partial to the name Y/n."
"Y/n L/n it is." Strange proudly smiled ignoring the look Loki gave him as he looked at Wanda- at Y/n.
"Really? L/n?"
"I think it sounds nice, Loki." Y/n reassured the god. At those words he automatically changed his mind.
"Yes, Y/n L/n surely fits you."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Y/n sighed as she finally finished conjuring up all of the new items for her new home. She had already put a spell around it, ensuring that those who entered her new home would feel safe, warm, and comfortable. She wanted the exact opposite of Westview. She carefully hid the runes, making them small and they camouflaged well with the decorative wallpaper.
She had bought a small store, her home right above it. The store, Y/n decided, was going to sell things that she took comfort in. Books, plants, and a couple assorted goods if she felt like baking in the kitchen. There was even a section for artists to paint and for others to just sit in the bean bags and relax or read a good book.
Speaking of books, the town she moved into was awfully generous. After hearing she was going to open a bookstore, the resident librarian, who was an old, dying man, came up to her. He loved his books as if they were his own children. But his grandchildren didn't want to take over the library and he didn't want to see all of his books get tossed away.
And so, the old man generously gave Y/n most of the books from his library. He kept some and donated the rest to charity. Y/n's little shop was going well. Y/n didn't mind much about the slow business, she just wanted to relax and take in every moment. Something that she never would have done before.
But as each day passed, Y/n couldn't help herself but to find out the secret of this world. The supernatural existed.
It didn't come as much of a shock for Y/n, considering she was partly supernatural, but to hear the benevolent spirits and ghosts gossiping about ghosts who had fallen into rage and anger confused her. It baffled her so much to hear about ghosts actually having the ability to kill people, so she separated ghosts into two categories.
Astral ghosts. Ghosts of the dead who wandered in the astral plane, patiently waiting for something to occur before accepting their death. These were the ghosts that never went angry or fell into a random rage. Like the poor old librarian. He was waiting for his grandchildren to visit either his grave, the shut down library, or Y/n's bookstore before passing on. In the meantime, he continued his daily routines as if he were alive.
Then there were the angry ghosts. Not a very original name, Y/n knew, but it was simple enough for her to understand. They were the ghosts that fell into darkness and killed others, overwhelmed with rage to even see reason.
She didn't worry much about those ghosts, because the ones that were in her small town were given free therapy by her, and easily lost their anger and passed on to the afterlife with the reaper guiding them.
The other supernatural things? Y/n read up on them with the books given to her in the library, but other than that, she didn't care about them. If they were to ever show up at her town, she would make sure to deal with it so that everyone would be safe. But as she settled in and let her guard down for the next couple months, a little shapeshifter decided that her small town would be the perfect place to stir some trouble.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I'm Agent Adam Clayton, and this is my partner Agent Larry Mullen. We're with the FBI. We'd like to ask you a couple questions about a couple customers you've had."
Y/n stared wearily at the two men who had entered her shop. Just by reading their minds she could tell their names were false, especially since they were the same names as the band members from U2. However, she didn't comment on it, considering they were partially telling the truth about asking questions of her customers.
"What have my customers done to get attention from the FBI?" Y/n asked curiously, although she continuously kept reading their minds for answers.
"Just a couple of them have gone missing ma'am. We're hoping you could give us any clues as to where they've gone."
Getting enough answers from reading the tall one's mind (he thought a lot and his thoughts were practically screaming at her) she nodded at them. Hunters that hunt and kill the supernatural? Y/n guessed they were the hero equivalent in this world. The only question left would be if they would kill her if they found out she was also a 'witch.' "So, which customers?"
"Robert Dunn, Todd Alexander, and Philip Navarro." the shorter one answered her. They watched her as she continued to walk around her shop, watering her plants.
Y/n took her time to recall them, "Well, the three of them were all from out of town. We've never had that many visitors before so it was easy to remember them. They all liked to talk too." Y/n frowned at the thought of those conversations she had with them. But now that she actually thought about it, the thoughts of the 3 customers were somewhat similar.
The taller one, catching Y/n's frown, continued to question her. "What did they talk about?"
"You know, simple 'What's your name?' or 'Could I get your number?' They were all particularly flirty."
"So would you say no if I asked for your number?" 'Adam Clayton' couldn't help but comment, getting elbowed by 'Larry Mullen.' Wow, these boys really reminded Y/n of Stephen and Loki.
"I'd tell you the same response I told those men. I'm not interested in a relationship right now. Taking a break from that." Y/n handed 'Adam' a yellow tulip. At the questioning look, Y/n answered him, "So you don't feel too bad. Yellow tulips mean joy and a whole lot of other things."
"Do you give every man you reject a yellow tulip?" 'Adam' pouted causing Y/n to grin slightly.
"Well, any type of yellow flowers work. Yellow flowers in general symbolize spreading happiness and joy."
"Sorry- about the men? What happened after that?" 'Larry' steered them back on track.
"Oh, they all left the store looking somewhat upset but also giddy. Philip said he'd be back to try again though he hasn't been back in a week already."
'Larry' nodded, seemingly getting all the information he wanted and thanking Y/n politely before taking 'Adam' with him to stop him from flirting any further with Y/n.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"So the only connection right now is Y/n, but why?" Sam questioned, going through a book he had borrowed at Y/n's store earlier.
"She's a hot chick. Who wouldn't go and take a chance to ask her out?" Dean replied, happily munching on a burger as he sat on the couch of their motel room.
"You think she's the one who's been killing them?" Sam asked, "It's a possibility."
"Remember what Philip told her?" Dean reminded Sam, "He'd be back to try again. Pretty creepy if you ask me."
"So a shapeshifter?"
"Bingo!"
"That seems a little far fetched, Dean."
"Hey, all we gotta do is watch the chick and then we'll figure out if it's her or if it's a shapeshifter. Easy solution! Or we could get access to her security cameras."
Sam grunted as he closed the book, flopping onto his bed. "She doesn't have any. I checked. Please tell me you at least find that suspicious."
"Hey, maybe she can't afford them! Town's pretty small, her shop's pretty small, she might not get a lot of income, you know?" Dean stood up, walking to the door, "I'm gonna get a drink, wanna come?"
Sam didn't respond and Dean took that as a no, leaving for the nearest bar. He kept walking to the bar he saw close-by, but just as he turned the corner, a fist hit his face and he blacked out.
.
.
.
As Dean came back into consciousness, he was greeted by the sight of Philip shedding his skin and forming into himself. Damn, he was right. It was a shapeshifter. The shapeshifter merely glanced at the tied up Dean, glaring deadly holes into him. "She's mine..!" he hissed at Dean, leaving the cold room.
Looking around the room, he saw the bodies of the other men, too late to save them. Philip however, laid unconscious on the floor. Dean could see however that the Shapeshifter had injured Philip greatly and that if he did not get any help right away, he could die. Frantically working at the ropes, Dean could only hope that Sam would get to Y/n on time. (However, Sam was fast asleep, blissfully unaware of what had happened).
.
.
.
Y/n didn't think it was normal of 'Adam' to come knocking at her door, especially at the middle of the night when the store was most definitely closed. She peaked from the safety of her window, using her magic to be invisible just in case she were to be spotted.
'Adam' was filled with possessive thoughts that automatically told Y/n something was wrong. As she shuffled through 'Adam's' memories, she found that most were not there, some floating around, the most recent one being tied up in some kind of basement.
"Hey Miss Y/n...? Are you here?" a shy astral ghost of a child appeared behind her. It was a ghost Y/n had met recently a few weeks ago. At the voice, Y/n moved away from the window and reappeared. "Yes, dear?"
The child stumbled back a bit in surprise but quickly calmed down, looking at her. "Remember how I said what I wanted most was for my dad to visit my grave at least once?"
"Yes?" Y/n whispered quietly back to the child, motherly instincts taking over as she looked at the child gently.
"I changed my mind. He needs help right now. That's what I want most. For dad to live." The ghost child looked at Y/n with determination and Y/n couldn't help but answer their plea.
"Lead the way."
Sneaking out of the house via the backdoor, Y/n followed the ghost child to the other side of town, going into the forest near their town and was led to a cabin. Inside the cabin was a simple bunk bed and a large chest. Nothing inside the cabin seemed to have been used in a while. The only thing that indicated someone- something lived here was the vase filled with yellow flowers at the window sill.
"Here. He's down there." The ghost pointed at the chest, before floating through it and disappearing. Using her magic, Y/n easily pulled the chest out of the way and revealed a passageway with a ladder heading straight down into the darkness. Not seeing her ghost friend, Y/n continued heading down, deeper and deeper until she reached the floor.
It was cold down here. The lights were dim and flickered occasionally, but it was clear that it was being powered by electricity somehow. "This way, this way." The ghost child urged, pointing down the hallway.
Quickly, Y/n rushed, her footsteps echoing as she ran. As she made it to the end of the hallway she saw two corpses, an unconscious Philip and Dean who was looking at her in shock.
"So I'm guessing you're the real 'Adam'?" Y/n asked, although already knowing the answer. She went towards him, untying the ropes as fast as she could. Before Dean could suspect her or say anything Y/n continued to speak, "There was someone who looked like you at my door, but when I zoomed in with my phone to check who it was from the window, your eyes were white." Y/n lied, using the information she knew about shapeshifters to her advantage, "I'm pretty sure that's not exactly normal."
Dean grinned, "Sweetheart, there's a lot of things that aren't normal."
Picking up Philip, the two rushed out of the cabin, not willing to stay any longer to face the shapeshifter. Dean didn't have any gear, and he couldn't risk the lives of two innocent people. However, they didn't make it very far as the Dean clone confronted them in the forest, staring intensely at Y/n.
"Ma'am, back away from the shapeshifter, right now! Don't let it trick you!" the Dean clone shouted at Y/n. If Y/n couldn't read minds, she surely would have felt conflicted right now as Dean also told her,
"He's trying to trick you. Trust me, I'm the real deal. I- I know that sounds bad- but I promise. I'm a hunter. My real name is Dean."
The Dean clone took a step closer causing Y/n to turn to him. "Don't come closer. Mr. Philip needs help right now. I don't care whoever you are as long as he gets help."
Dean, taking advantage of the standstill, grabbed Y/n's hand and started to run, carrying Philip. The motel was nearby, hopefully they could make it and grab Sam's attention somehow.
But the clone was fast. Y/n's eyes narrowed as her other arm was grabbed and she decided that she's had enough. Using her magic she blasted the shapeshifter back. Dean looked at her in shock and fear, but Y/n didn't mind. Those kinds of looks weren't new to her.
"Dean you're a hunter. Do I have to kill the guy or no?" Y/n asked, snapping Dean out of it.
"You're a witch-"
"It's a yes or no question Dean." Y/n snapped, watching blankly as the shapeshifter stood up and began to approach them again, angered.
Taking a step, it jumped at Dean, causing Dean to blurt out a quick "yes!" before the shapeshifter was stopped, floating mid-jump at Dean. The shapeshifter turned to ashes in front of his eyes and Dean turned to look at Y/n with an impassive look.
"I've heard that hunters usually kill witches or anything supernatural, but please get Mr. Philip help first before you decide to kill me."
And with that, Y/n left to her small store, packing up her things in a dimensional pocket. She trusted that Dean would get Philip the help he needed. She just needed to get out of here. If she couldn't convince Dean to not kill her, she would go to another world before he could.
As she quickly finished packing up, the small ghost child appeared before her.
"Thank you for saving dad." the shy ghost looked at the ground, as if blushing from embarrassment.
"It's no problem dear. He was important to you, right? It's important to always care and look out for family." Y/n looked at the ghost kindly, recalling her own family. Reaching out her hand to hold the young ghost's, Y/n gently whispered to them. "I believe it's time for you to rest now, dear."
A reaper appeared next to them, patiently waiting.
"...Will it hurt?"
Y/n smiled at the ghost, reassuring them, "It won't. It'll feel like waking up from a dream."
The shy ghost hugged her tightly, thanking her, before taking the hand of the reaper and disappearing with it. Y/n sighed, relieved that the child was finally at peace. At least they could have the peace Y/n longed for. A gun clicked behind her head. Y/n didn't turn around.
"Explain."
From the voice, Y/n could tell it was the taller brother. 'Larry,' or Sam, had seen, or rather heard the whole interaction. From what he could tell, Y/n was talking to an invisible ghost or spirit and helped it move on to the afterlife. A much different tactic to their usual salt and burn.
"About who I am or what I just did?" Y/n asked.
"Both." Dean came in behind Sam, staring at the witch.
"Hm, well... I'm from a different universe..."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It wasn't easy, but Sam and Dean believed her story. But even after that they didn't completely trust her, which was understandable. But at least they liked her enough to keep calling to use her books for research, to get extra information for hunts, or for Dean to just get a pie (he would never admit it but Y/n's pies were the best he's ever had).
Y/n was allowed to live in her small town, as long as she promised not to kill anyone or the brothers swore to come back to kill her. But as they kept calling her over and over again to help with more and more hunts, she found herself being invited to live in the Bunker with them.
Some days were odd.
Some days the brothers seemed like they hated her and everything witches.
But most days they enjoyed her company. They enjoyed that there was something out there that was supposed to be bad, but was actually good.
And ever so slowly they got used to her magic.
One time Dean had walked in on her using magic in the kitchen. Tools and ingredients were flying places, a bowl was stirring itself. Y/n was at the oven taste testing some sort of soup. Dean felt like he was having a Harry Potter moment. At Dean's awkward cough, Y/n jumped back slightly and lifted her head.
"Oh! Sorry, were you hungry? Um... the kitchen is kinda occupied right now, but you could have this pie!"
At her words, a pie found itself in a very happy Dean's hands. "What are you making?"
"Some miso soup. I was craving it so I decided to make it. I didn't want to go out."
"So then where'd you get this pie?"
"Oh, I had a feeling you were going to want one later, so I made it earlier!"
Touched by her kindness, Dean nodded, grateful, but he didn't want to be sappy so he happily left with his pie. Y/n chuckled to herself as she heard Dean's thoughts praising her and her pie.
Sam had come to enjoy their conversations on the supernatural. As he had found out, despite being a witch, Y/n had very basic knowledge on the supernatural world and mostly got her information from her books. So, Sam had taken it upon himself to teach Y/n about the most common and dangerous, and most importantly how to kill it.
Sam had been very careful to teach Y/n about the witch-killing spell and bullets. He had nearly freaked when Y/n went and held a bullet, observing it closely before taking it apart with her magic.
"-so these are the bullets and- WAIT NO Y/N IT'LL KILL YOU!" Sam panicked, lunging towards her as Y/n took the bullet apart. Hearing the yell, Dean came running.
"What's happening!?"
At that moment Sam crashed into the couch Y/n was sitting on as she dodged him.
Y/n chuckled, "I'm fine, this won't hurt me. You told me the ingredients, remember? When combined together, yes, they do kill witches. But they won't kill witches like me."
Y/n poked at the bullet before putting it back together and placing the bullet in the case, which Sam immediately closed and put away. "Let's not do that again. E-Even if it won't- I just, I don't want to risk it."
Seeing how much she had made Sam worry, Y/n put her hand gently on Sam's. "I'm sorry Sam. I didn't mean to worry you."
Sam sighed, gently clasping Y/n's hands, "It's alright... you're good. I just... don't want..."
"I know... thank you..." Y/n smiled.
"Aww, look at the two love birds~ get a room already!"
"DEAN SHUT UP!"
However there was a day that Y/n truly treasured. It was the day that both brothers finally put their complete trust in Y/n. This happened during a hunt.
They had quickly figured out it was a ghost and brought Y/n with them so they could finish up quick, but the ghost was more tricky to deal with than they had originally thought.
The ghost was a woman who had been cremated, so there were no remains they could burn. They still had to identify what object the ghost was attached to. It had moved from city to city, so it must have been an object easy to bring along.
Quite easily they could tell it was a vengeful spirit as there was a pattern going on. Mothers were the target, whether they still had kids or not didn't matter apparently. As long as you were a mother at one point (or pregnant), the ghost would come and attack. From what they could get as pretending to be the FBI, the children had seen the ghost that attacked their moms, but the description of the ghost varied from child to child. One thing stayed consistent however, the ghost never touched the kids. At times the ghost had reassured them that everything was okay, that she would take care of them.
As they researched (Sam and Y/n researched, Dean ate on the motel bed), Y/n couldn't help but feel... worried? Sympathetic?
Just from looking at the ghost's targets, Y/n could tell the ghost was a mother at one point in their lives. The ghost was like her, desperate to find and keep her family. Her children. But unlike the ghost, Y/n had learned how to grow from the pain. She had reached the acceptance part in the 5 stages of grief. Yes, she missed her husband and children, but she continued on, knowing that they would be loved and would continue to be loved.
Noticing Y/n spacing out, Dean called out to her. "Hey witchy, you doing okay?"
Y/n looked up at him, "I think I need a break. I'm gonna go for a walk. Wanna come? Sam?"
Dean leaned further into the pillows, "Nah, I'm just gonna relax here."
Sam scowled, "Or you could be helpful and come over here!" to which Dean let out another "nope!" before turning his music up even louder. Sam groaned, "I'm good Y/n, I want to keep researching."
Nodding Y/n left the motel room, taking in the fresh air as she walked.
What she didn't know was that the object the ghost was attached to was in their motel room, and Y/n had left the brothers just before chaos happened.
.
.
.
.
.
Not sure if I want to keep writing this because it was just a quick thought I had. Let me know if you'd like a part 2!
Edit: Part 2 has been posted!
Next >
#reader#x reader#reader insert#supernatural#loki#dr strange#wanda maximoff#wanda marvel#scarlet witch#marvel#the avengers#avenger reader#sam winchester#dean winchester#witches#witch#fanfic#fanfiction#scarlet witch reader#Witches Can Be Good
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