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kendsleyauthor · 3 months

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Andres and Lorelei (Masterpost)

This post lists all the current stories written about my and @marydublinauthor's characters -- Andres and Lorelei!

Andres and Lorelei exist in the print/trinket universe. A trinket no taller than the pieces on a chessboard takes a champion player by surprise.

(Art by @marydublinauthor 🌸)

ORIGIN STORY:

👑 The Clandestine Queen

👑 The Candescent King

Drowsy

SHORT STORIES:

New Year's Kiss

Muy Bien

Pieces of a Past Life

Queen Takes King

Coffee Smell

Leaves

Lullaby

Thanks For Playing With Me

You're the First Friend I Ever Had

Her Move (Spicy)

Starstruck (Micah crossover!)

Beg Me For It (Spicy)

#gt #g/t #gt writing #g/t writing #my writing #print universe #trinket universe #printverse #gt fandom #g/t fandom #gt community #g/t community #giant tiny #giant #tiny #size difference #sfw gt #sfw g/t

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marydublinauthor · 7 months

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Random gt drabbles: Poolside

Characters: Micah/Everly

Safe for work • @kendsleyauthor

_____________

The music video had wrapped ten minutes ago, but Everly couldn’t bring herself to look away. The shoot had been at the most luxe, colorful hotel in Chicago. From the moment she’d seen the bizarre art hanging proudly in the lobby, she knew this place was perfect for Micah’s brand. She wondered idly if he was rich enough now to buy this place. A rooftop infinity pool stretched to a breathtaking view of the Windy City. She never dreamed of seeing a view like this firsthand while in the Burrow.

While the crew deprepped the lighting and video equipment, Everly shied under a pool chair to stay out of the way. This was only a print-friendly set because Micah Tate sauntered in with his $600 sunglasses and her in the crook of his arm — not because any human would be particularly careful if she were to get in the way.

“Hey, Ev. Finish this for me?”

She glanced up, surprised to see Micah had made his way over to her. He spotted her when everyone else so easily overlooked a lone Print’s presence on set. He leaned out of the pool, a stemless glass offered.

Glancing around at the emptying rooftop, she emerged. She accepted the fake rosé they’d been using in the shoot and gulped at it. She coughed, eyes widening.

“Oh — This is real?”

“I don’t fake everything,” Micah pouted. He took the glass from her and finished it. Her eyes lingered on the hollow of his throat. It was so different to see him bare, without his makeup and elaborate suits.

“No? What about this?” She patted his chin. The tease slipped out of her effortlessly. She tapped his lip. “Or this?”

Micah’s easy grin flickered. Something animal flashed in his dark eyes - it frightened her and made her insides pull towards him all at once.

“Tell me if I’m faking this,” he purred.

She squealed as he nuzzled her, brushing a kiss to the little bit of skin revealed by her collar. His hand wrapped around her waist and she protested that he was making her wet. She should have kept her mouth shut.

Micah solved that little problem by pulling her into the pool with him.

#gt writing #g/t #gt #giant/tiny #giant tiny #print #printverse #trinket universe #print universe #Micah #Everly

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bittykimmy13 · 7 months

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Just read your new story for promptober and realized I know next-to-nothing about ‘modern day’ print culture. They have their own little societies, (which is rad btw, now I need a short with a print living in one of those) but then how do they end up working for normal humans? Do they get raided/abducted?? If so oof, but if not why in the world do they want a job like that? And I still DON'T KNOW HOW THEY END UP SHUNNED FROM SOCIETY FOR EXISTING.

Pls I need the lore I beg u

This answer might offer more insight to the print / trinket universe and social norms!

Prints are heavily controlled in human society. They live in fenced slum-like communities with strict rules about where/when they can leave. The only jobs available to them are menial (cleaning, modeling clothes like living mannequins, etc.) Because there aren't many options, they take what they can get.

There are also free print communities living secretly in the wilderness. These are highly illegal, and when they are found, they are raided by authorities. Prints that survive these brutal raids are "welcomed" into "civilized" society 🙃

Feel free to ask anything else! This world is dense and it's hard to cover everything at once!

@marydublinauthor

#print universe #trinket universe #kimspeak

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arguablysomaya · 7 months

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batman media if dc writers could conceal their burning hatred for jason todd even a little

#''bruce does MKUltra on his child'' yeah that seems fucked up. print it #batfam #shut up somaya #dcu #dc universe #batfamily #batman #jason todd #bruce wayne #1k

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ereighna · 2 months

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Currently at Emerald City Comic-con. I'm having a blast and some peeps actually knew who I was lol!

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #legend of zelda #lu legend cosplay #eccc 2024 #3d printing #master sword

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knifearo · 4 months

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daily gentle reminder that the words we use to describe ourselves are labels. they're not immutable states of being, they're not all-encompassing, they're not permanent, they're not universal; labels are just words that we use to indicate something about our experience that we find important enough to communicate to others. if your experience with attraction is significantly different enough from a typical allo experience then aspec labels are there for you to use as long as you want them; and conversely, what aspec labels communicate is just that someone's experience is aligned enough with what we describe as aromanticism/asexuality to warrant telling people about it. you never need a label, you never need to keep a label, you never need to justify a label, and you never need to use a label for anything besides what you want it for. it's not a contract. it's an adjective that you can choose to use or not to use. all it needs to do is be useful for you. 💚🖤

#literally think about label makers. you're not printing out a cute little thing that says 'yarn' to put on your drawer #because that drawer is like. the universe's one true place to store yarn.#nah. that drawer just has yarn in it rn. and it's useful to you/maybe to other people to know that there's yarn in there.#might be something else later. might be more than yarn later. but like. that's not what the label is about. it's just communicating smth.#saw a post once that made a point about labels being like little signposts that you put out and! yeah!#labels are like pride flags or pronoun pins or fuckin. bumper stickers. they're just a way of saying something about yourself.#and you can use them however the fuck you want frankly #talking #aromantic #aromanticism #arospec #aroace #aro positivity #aspec #asexual #ace positivity #asexuality #ace spectrum

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kendsleyauthor · 7 months

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🍂 Sanctuary + Mirror + Puzzle 🍂

Promptober 2023

Print / Trinket Universe (Kylian and Bluebell)

~1400 words

Warning: Dehumanization

Introducing new characters! Kylian is a rich, eccentric artist. Bluebell is a print who is unfortunate enough to catch his full attention 💙

@marydublinauthor 🌸

Kylian hadn’t created anything in weeks. He didn’t bother lamenting this issue in his social circle. They would simply click their tongues and remind him that he could continue living in luxury for the rest of his life without having another single creative idea.

They didn’t understand what it meant to have an overwhelming hunger to shape something—anything—and to come up empty day after day. As an artist who utilized numerous mediums, from traditional art to more complex pieces like puzzles—something should have been calling to him.

He wasn’t particularly personable at the best of times, but when inspiration was elusive, he could go months without being spotted in public.

His woodworking studio took up one corner of the ground floor. Ample light bathed his work surfaces—all of which were crowded and cluttered with half-formed pieces.

Cursing under his breath, he snapped a delicate piece of wood between his hands while the saw continued to buzz maniacally. It had started off fine. Intarsia was careful work, and though his technique was flawless, the outline of the owl he had envisioned was not turning out like he’d imagined.

As he switched off the saw, he caught the sound of the front door opening. His jaw clenched as he heard the housekeeper greet the cleaning service workers.

Not for the first time, he briefly considered the idea of setting up a studio separate from his home. Money wasn’t an issue. He simply preferred to avoid venturing to a different location to create his art when he could do it from the comfort of his home.

And that meant, twice a week, dealing with outsiders in his space. Two humans, and five prints. So long as they stayed out of his way, he wouldn’t have to snap at them, let alone look at them. They understood the protocol by now.

After another half hour of splintered attempts at a woodworking project, Kylian decided to vacate the studio before he destroyed one of the saws. Perhaps looking through some old sketchbooks would provide some inspiration.

Along the way to one of his messier studios on the second floor, he caught glimpses of movement. A normal person down the hall. Two prints dusting meticulously at one of the bookshelves. None of them dared to greet him, and he didn’t acknowledge their presence. Ghosts were meant to be invisible, after all.

“If you refuse to date, you should at least get yourself a Mercy print,” one of his colleagues had crooned a few months ago. “You could use the company. Let yourself have a little fun, for fuck’s sake.”

He didn’t have a Mercy print for the same reason that he never hosted social functions at his own home. The thought of having to entertain or be entertained by someone beneath him was entirely unappealing. He couldn’t understand why anyone would subject themselves to it.

The sanctuaries of his studios were more than enough to keep him satisfied—even when inspiration was out of reach.

As he approached the studio where he stored most of his old sketchbooks, he came to a halt in the middle of the corridor.

The door was partly opened. On its own, that wouldn’t have normally gotten under his skin. Perhaps he carelessly forgot to shut it after his last visit. But he’d enjoyed his solitude enough to sense when he wasn’t alone—and he was certain that goosebumps were rising along his arms for a reason.

Taking silent steps, he approached the door and peered inside. Light filtered through the sheer curtains across the wide window. Every bit of illumination seemed to concentrate on the slight movement in the studio.

Kylian held his breath, narrowing his eyes.

A print was on his desk, admiring herself in the mirror that he occasionally used for self-portraits. She was so absorbed in her reflection, she didn’t even notice him in the doorway.

Disgust roiled through him, culminating in a silent rage.

The cleaning crew knew to stay out of his studios. Under no circumstances were they to touch any of his work.

But he didn’t recognize this print—there was no way he could forget someone who looked like her. So she was new. Either someone had been negligent in warning her about his strict preferences, or she was a self-absorbed airhead who couldn’t resist a mirror even when she was knowingly trespassing.

Kylian nearly shouted for her to get the fuck out of there—perhaps he’d startle her enough to make her fall and break her neck. But he was taken aback by her odd appearance as she fixed her hair in the mirror.

Bronze skin caught the muted light perfectly, as though the sun was hellbent on caressing her. Her inky black locks were pulled into a high ponytail with different shades of blue yarn, the ends of which cascaded among the waves of her hair.

Strangely, she was wearing a dress. It appeared to be stitched from many different worn-out and frayed fabrics—also blue, blue blue.

There was something about her. A sort of aura that he’d never witnessed in a print before.

She dropped her hands from her hair, satisfied with the way it fell, and took hold of the sides of her skirt. Swaying side to side, she took delicate steps, flouncing to music that Kylian couldn’t hear. She was performing a subdued version of a dance. Her full lips, touched by a faint flush of color, parted with a wordless melody.

“La la-la, la-la.”

The same tune, over and over. Her dance became more daring, her feet tracing a fluid path in front of the mirror. Then she began to twirl, eyes closed, arms raising slowly over her head.

Kylian gaped. She was out of her mind. He began to wonder if she wasn’t from the cleaning crew at all—she might have wandered in off the streets. But he couldn’t stop staring, slack-jawed.

Her eyes fluttered open as she was making a final turn. Her gentle song broke off in a shriek when she spotted him. She came to such an abrupt stop, she might have sprained her ankle as she lost her footing and fell to a hard seat. The print gasped, swiftly covering her mouth as though to belatedly take back her scream.

“Mr. Hart!” She scrambled to stand and lowered her head in a bow. “I-I’m so sorry. Ever so sorry.”

Her accent was strange, almost as if she’d stepped out of a Western film. He could barely believe the twang in her voice was real—let alone believe that she was real. He didn’t say a thing as she apologized over and over. There wasn’t a single string of words that could encapsulate a response to the bizarre scene he’d witnessed.

The print snatched up her dusting rag and climbed down the table leg expertly. The skittering movement vaguely reminded him of a rat, and he began to surface back to himself. Still, he kept silent.

Her cheeks were flushed as she made her way to the door—and inadvertently, toward him. Her mismatched dress fluttered like flower petals in the wind as she skirted around him carefully, like he might decide to step on her for her insolence.

She’d almost made it to the hallway when he venomously snapped, “What’s your name?”

Her blushing face paled. “Bluebell, sir.” She gave an eccentric little curtsy with her ragged skirts, then hurried off.

Kylian pointedly shut the door behind him, hoping she’d feel the vibration of it. He took a seat at his desk, noting the tiny footprints in the dust and pencil shavings near the mirror.

Bluebell.

What a stupid name. It made her sound like a trinket. She had to have grown up feral, out in the wilderness where prints only knew how to name their children after plants. Strange that she wouldn’t have adopted a normal name now that she was existing in her proper station in life.

Then again, she was clearly inadequate at the job that her proper station in life afforded her.

Her strangeness seemed exponential.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

He grabbed a sketchbook and flipped through it. Finding it full, he tossed it aside. He repeated the procedure five times before he found a blank page. He picked up a charcoal pencil and began drawing for the first time in weeks.

He gazed at his creation silently, equal measures disgusted with himself and enthralled.

Then he reached for every shade of blue brush pen within reach.

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marydublinauthor · 1 year

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Merry Christmas!

A sketch I added on a couple years as a Christmas gift to my coauthor featuring a plethora of some of our characters having a grand old holiday time under the same roof 💚❤️🎄

Pictured left to right: Micah and Everly, Jon and Sylvia, Daniel and Esmae, Cliff, Lee, and Ben

Who should I add next year? 👀

@kendsleyauthor @bittykimmy13

#gt writing #gt art #my art #sketch #merry christmas #sketchbook #print universe #shot in the dark #trinket universe #fairy #jon and sylvia #Cliff #Ben #lee #Micah #Everly

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bittykimmy13 · 2 years

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Ready or Not (GT)

A Print/Trinket Universe Story

In which Everly is a little too successful in distracting Micah from doom-scrolling.

Word count: ~3k

Characters belong to me and the lovely @marydublin5 💕

((More Micah and Everly))

Warning: Consensual fearplay 🌸

Touring was always a mixed bag. On one hand, Everly got to see more of the world than she ever thought possible. She got to see Micah ride the high of performing on stage. On the other, she more often than not had to play the role of the quiet, dutiful employee. She still had her moments with Micah, but they were nothing compared to the bursts of lazy days that staying in his home allotted.

One thing was certain. She could not stand the week leading up to a tour. While she was content to spend the days quietly prepping and spend the nights soaking in some relaxation, Micah was a live wire all hours.

He was a strange mix of pumped and nervous, as he always was just before a song drop or a tour. Album and song downloads for his latest drop had been astronomical, but he seemed to think that all of his talents would up and vanish right before he got on stage. He was ready—she knew that, everyone knew that. Now if only he could get the message.

It was nights like these that made her wish his usual self-assured attitude would make an appearance.

Everly was already dressed for bed—a silken tank top and shorts—lying facedown on one of Micah’s many pillows. Her chin was propped on her folded arms, legs kicking idly in the air. Micah was propped against the headboard. With each scroll through his phone, he only seemed to grow more agitated. He was still fully clothed from the day, too distracted to be even semi-engaged in their conversation, let alone change.

Everly propped herself up on her elbows. “What do you think about stopping at that alien-themed cafe outside Phoenix like last time? They were weirdly accommodating.”

“Mhm.” Scroll, scroll, scroll.

“Oh, and what about the museum in Atlanta? We’ll get a chance to stop by there, right?”

Lip bite. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

She huffed. “I’m about to strip naked and do a backflip off the pillow, are you watching?”

“Of course, babe.” His eyes didn’t budge from the screen.

Fed up, pushed herself to hands and knees. He barely seemed to notice her clambering onto his stomach, but he certainly noticed when she shoved his phone right out of his hand. His wide eyes finally landed on her, and he stared dumbly for a few seconds before uttering, “Wait, did you say you were gonna strip?”

“You know, I don’t think you deserve it.” She crossed her arms and kicked his wrist when he reached for his phone. “Nope. No. You’re not gonna touch that.”

Finally, he seemed to be more present.

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Oh.”

To her mild surprise, he relaxed back and didn’t touch his phone. Something mischievous glinted in his eyes as he assessed her on top of him, leading to some kind of bizarre staring contest. She knew she had him when a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. She tilted her chin up and held her ground.

“Bossy,” he said. “You know, I almost miss when you used to be intimidated by me.”

Her stony expression cracked so she could scoff. “Me? Intimidated by you? When was that? Was I even there?” Lie. She could remember all too vividly how uncertain and bashful she’d been when they first reunited. But other than that…

“I beg to differ.” He moved his hand, but thankfully not for his phone. His fingertips traced her side. “You were skittish the first night we met—and a lot of nights after that, too. Sure you were putting up a tough front, but you, light of my life, were…” He pinched her hip. “Jumpy.”

She swatted his fingers off. “Please! You were too drunk to remember, anyway.” Dropping to all fours, she crawled up his belly, up his chest, closer to his face. “You, pain in my ass, have never been scary. At least not to me.

His eyes lit up brighter. “Wanna bet?”

“Oh, you’re trying to rob me of my paycheck now?” She laid face down and propped her elbows on his chest. If it was a game he wanted, fine. As long as he kept him checking his social media post analytics for five minutes, she’d happily play along.

“No money involved. I just wanna prove you wrong.” A fingertip traced her spine. “You’ve inspired me. I’m wondering how different things would be if I weren’t so… unbelievably kind and charismatic that fire night. Like… what if I had chased you down instead of the other way around?”

She laughed. “Yeah, right. You never would’ve caught me.”

“Oh?”

“Oh.” Her grin widened. “There would’ve been plenty of places to hide, and you were too drunk to do the most basic tasks of your job. So there.”

“Well, there’s plenty of places to hide here. But I’m not drunk, and I’d hate to have that advantage over you…”

“Even sober, you wouldn’t be a problem.”

He gave her a long look. A hand slowly wrapped around her waist, giving her plenty of opportunity to back out. “So, let’s go, then.”

Truth be told, she wasn’t sure exactly how he intended to prove his point, but she had all his focus, and she was keen on keeping it. She pushed his fingers closed around her. “Let’s.”

With that, he scooped her up and leaned over the side of the bed to set her on the ground. She stepped back, watching with a little frown as he laid back and covered his eyes with his forearm.

Then, he started counting.

“Fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight…”

“Hide and seek? Seriously?” When he ignored her and kept counting, she rolled her eyes. “Wow, are you sure you can count backward from there?”

He counted louder. “Forty-five, forty-four…”

She raised her voice. “Come on, that’s not enough time!”

Micah went on regardless.

A tingle shot through her limbs. Maybe it was the angle from the floor, or the way the countdown dwindled menacingly, but she started sprinting. Thankfully, the carpet was more than enough to silence her steps. She paused in the middle of the room and turned all around. Hiding under the bed or dresser felt way too obvious. Just about every piece of furniture she could reach would be searched first.

She glanced at the window and briefly thought about scaling the inside of the curtains. One twitch would give away her position, and she’d be a sitting duck for him to snatch.

“Dammit, Micah,” she whispered, having been ready for bed.

The closet door was ajar. The darkness inside was promising. She ran for it, reaching the shadows just as he neared the end of his countdown. The inside of the closet was stupidly massive. She couldn’t even see the end of it without the light on. And these were only his casual daily clothes.

True to his nature, Micah started dragging out the numbers playfully near the end, giving her plenty of time to decide on a place to hide. She found a narrow raised ledge behind a low rack of jackets. There was room for her to bolt if she needed to. She wasn’t cornering herself, she insisted, keeping her eyes on the exit route while she positioned herself.

She listened closely as he moved through his cavern of a bedroom. As she suspected, he searched all the obvious spots first. She even heard the sound of him moving the pillows, as though she would have climbed back onto the bed to trick him.

Although she felt mostly secure, her breath was still coming in quick bursts that she couldn’t explain. It was just a game. A silly game to keep his hyperactive mood occupied. And the fact that he insisted on being so corny about it only solidified that.

“Where did that unruly little print get to?” he called in a singsong voice.

Everly rolled her eyes, but she flattened her back against the wall when the closet door opened wider. His shadow darkened the entry. The light flicked on—a glittering chandelier in the center that threw rainbows in every direction. She held perfectly still, able to see his long legs stroll casually inside.

She found herself wishing that they had set some sort of time limit. He seemed to be enjoying his ability to drag this out.

Much to her advantage, he started his search on the opposite side of her. While he was occupied delicately digging through drawers, she formulated her next move. Carefully, she peeled herself away from the wall and tried to keep her legs from trembling with nerves.

While he had his back turned, she silently ran to the ottoman that separated them. There was no space underneath it—not that she was aiming to hide there anyway. She simply watched his shadow and waited until he was on the move again. Then she tactfully made her way around the side of the ottoman, keeping it between herself and Micah as he circled the closet.

If she could find a spot he had already searched, he’d have to give it up eventually. Her heart pounded like a drum each second she was exposed to the light, even though she had a healthy amount of cover.

A game, she reminded herself. Don’t be so serious.

Peeking around the side of the ottoman, she saw him on the far side of the closet now. He pounced at the space behind the shirts, shoving them aside like he meant to startle her. And although she was as far from him as possible, she still gave a little jump and covered her mouth to keep a squeal from coming out.

Without wasting another second, she ran to the set of low drawers he had already searched. Instead of handles, there was a gap at the top of each drawer, just wide enough for her to squeeze through. She scaled up to the second-to-highest drawer and slipped inside. She doubted he’d dig through his precious collection of ties and pocket squares twice.

As she made her way deeper and tried to bury herself as discreetly as possible, she didn’t realize how low the back of the drawers were. When she reached the end, her foot slipped off the edge, startling her enough to give a cry.

Immediately, she pulled her leg back up and covered her mouth, but it was too late.

The sounds of Micah’s searching stopped. She willed him to think the sound was just his imagination and go back to digging through pants pockets. But as it turned out, he was just as bad at obeying her silent orders as her outright demands.

“Evy,” he crooned. “This’ll all be much easier if you just tell me where you are.”

His footsteps slowly approached the drawers. It was as though each one of his movements was measured to make her heart pound harder. Despite herself, she grinned behind her hand and wanted to squeak at the thrill of it.

To her relief, he started with the bottom drawer and seemed to be making his way up. The low back of the drawer may have doomed her, but it could also buy her some time. If she waited for the right moment, she could slip down to the next drawer, all the way until he left.

She stayed coiled underneath the cool fabric of a tie and held her breath, ready to make her escape after he opened and closed the drawer directly beneath her.

But he was cleverer than she gave him credit for.

It was like he read her mind and knew where she was all along. He skipped the drawer beneath her and pulled her wide open. Light blinded her. She screamed and tried to scramble down to the next drawer, but it was no use.

“There you are,” he said, a wolfish grin in his voice.

She almost made it, but he yanked the drawer all the way open and caught her leg at the last second. It wouldn’t have made a difference. That didn’t stop her from squirming and kicking to free herself from his hold. He dragged her to the center of the drawer, but instead of plucking her up, he released her. She fell on a heap among his ties.

“Ugh, I’m too tired to run again,” she groaned.

“Not a problem.”

Apparently, he had no intentions of starting another round anyway. Not when he had her right where he wanted her. He removed the drawer entirely, making her yelp in astonishment. She dropped to a crouch to keep from falling over as he carried the drawer to the ottoman. He set it down on the center, then leaned down and braced his hands on either side of the drawer.

For a few moments, he simply stared. She was used to him towering over her, but the look on his face sent involuntary shivers up her spine. It was the same look he gave during photoshoots when he was instructed to play the bad boy. The dangerous boy.

Except here, she could almost buy it.

“I don’t take kindly to prints who ruin my ties,” he said. One hand lifted toward her, the back of a finger trailing her arm. “Now, what’ll I do with you?”

For all her tiredness, she couldn’t help but give it one last good fight. She bolted, hoping to take him by surprise. He was ready for that. He grabbed a lavender tie and unraveled it at a leisurely pace. She vaulted onto the ottoman and almost made it to the edge, but he stretched the tie in front of her like a wall to block her path.

She skidded to a stop just in time to barely bump against the barrier, but she lost her balance and fell backward onto her hands and butt. She scuttled back as he herded her with the tie.

“I think you’d look much better in this,” he said, his voice nearly a purr.

He closed the distance, catching her waist in the fabric and forcing her to stand. He looped it around her once, twice, his hands flying too fast for her to keep track of. She tried to wriggle herself free and duck away, but he pulled on both ends, tightening the fabric around her.

She panted. “Really fucking creative—” Her words were stolen as he lifted her with the tie. She shrieked and held on for dear life. As much as she trusted him, having her legs dangle over a bone-breaking fall was enough to make her doubt anyone.

He brought her up to eye level, looking utterly pleased with himself. “I told you it’d be easier if you just told me where you were.”

He carried her to the bed and deposited her on the pillow she had started on. When he climbed onto the mattress, he watched with blatant amusement as she struggled to unravel herself from the tie. Even without the tension of him pulling on the fabric, the slippery combination of her nightclothes and the silken tie did not make things any easier. It took her a good half a minute to get out of the snare. The moment she kicked the last of it off, she crawled hurriedly for the edge of the pillow.

“That’s my Ev,” he said affectionately. “You don’t give up, do you?”

She dropped to the mattress, but that seemed to be precisely where he preferred her. He adjusted himself, corralling her with his arm and torso. Everywhere she turned was him.

Grumbling, she walked over to his chest and gave him a shove. He pretended to gasp in pain, which was worse than any other reaction he could’ve had. With a huff, she sat down and crossed her arms.

He grinned down at her. “Aw, don’t be a sore loser just ‘cause I scared you.”

“Honestly, I forgot about that part. I’m just mad you found me.” She shrugged. “But you didn’t scare me.”

“I did too.”

“You did not.”

“Really?”

He moved again—this time far more dramatically. He braced himself on his hands and loomed right over her. That dumb face made its appearance again—his eyes going dark and cold, mouth set in a sinister smirk. He breathed deeply and leaned down, looking ready to devour her, stubbornness and all.

Her heart skipped a beat—and it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. She backed up slowly.

“Game’s still on, then,” he murmured.

Everly laughed despite herself and plunged under the covers. She crawled frantically, trying to be unpredictable in her direction. His bed was stupidly massive to match his casual closet, so at least she had that to her advantage.

It would’ve been easier for him to remove the sheets entirely and find her in a millisecond, but she knew he’d find no fun in that. Instead, his hand slipped in after her, feeling around fruitlessly as she tried to make herself as small and invisible as possible.

She managed to evade him for nearly a full minute before he threw himself under the sheets. At once, he spotted her and grinned. She shrieked and tried to back away, but within seconds, he had her again. He scooped his hand around her waist and brought her closer to bury her under his affections.

His smirk was gone. He was all bright—peppering her with relentless kisses and nuzzles.

“Alright!” She laughed and writhed under his tenderness. It made her give in quicker than any cold eyes or smirk could. “You win!”

He buried his cheek against her and kissed up her arm and shoulder. “You win too, babe. All this attention from me? Good for you.”

She made a gagging noise, which only earned her more kisses.

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rochenn · 4 months

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star wars characters, no matter how old, being awkward at handling paper books because they're too used to digital media>>>

#just a little headcanon #also the implication that print media in-universe is mostly used for salacious/dangerous texts #that shouldn't be replicated or distributed too easily #in my head all the sith scriptures are in paper form #star wars #txt

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rivalmelty · 2 months

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quick hyrule redraw of this (which is just a redraw of this) bc i am literally drowning in inks for my junior thesis and i wanted to do something messier but it also defo made me feel so good about my growth as an artist so im ready to do more homework this week :’D

#what a funky lil dude #oriondrewthis #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu hyrule #don’t expect much anything else anytime soon #hopefully a meet the artist but that’s it #i’m drowning in pages #i need to finish my inks for 2 more pages and then run some print tests #then i have to work on cover sketechs for my mini that i haven’t even made character refs for #spring break is a lie this is spring panic

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