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reallyhardydraws · 4 months

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2023.

i hope any of you reading this will forgive the essay. i started posting to this art blog ten years ago in 2013 when i was just at the very end of high school, uploading short animations i'd made for one of my final projects, preparing myself for art school where i was gearing up to become an illustration/animation student.

i went into my art foundation course in 2014, still thinking i was going to be going into storybook illustration or with faint hopes of becoming like a concept artist for game/animation, although even then i'd started thinking about patterns...

and then in 2015 i did go into my BA, going in for that illustration with animation degree that... usually when i talk about it in real life, i say didn't really feel like the best place for me. if i think back, the best things i got out of it were two of my best friends, one of whom is now my partner. looking back on my BA era, there's some bits of sketchbook stuff...

and while i was at university my main fandoms were thunderbirds are go and x-men for a bit... these are from the end of 2015 into the beginning of 2016...

then for a little while i was doing this still sort of pastel-ish lineless situation:

and i alternated between that and this thin fineliner type work (pretty sure all of the linearted pieces were done on paper and scanned, and all the lineless were graphics-tablet-only) - it was in this style that i started to offer commissions for the first time too.

and i also had fineliner-lined work in sketchbooks that i coloured with marker and posca pens, the colours of which were generally a bit more intense just based on not being able to slide the hue/saturation around on paper:

also 2016 was when i discovered the spongebob musical just after it's trial run in chicago (which ended in july of 2016) and i started making fanart at that point... which would have the biggest effect on the way i drew (and i did end up handing in a piece of spongebob musical fanart as one of my art school homeworks lmao)

from summer 2016 until early 2017 things were still quite soft and pastelly in my digital art, colour-wise:

and then suddenly everything got whacked up to 100% on saturation. also i was using the binary tool to give everything really thin pixel lineart for some reason.

then i went on vacation in summer 2017 and didn't draw for maybe a month? just short of? and when i came back i decided to change everything up again... giving characters blobbier, more ugly-cute faces with large squinting eyes and big nostrils and i was worrying a lot less about making anything look smooth, lineart-wise. i turned off the pen stabiliser in SAI and let it wiggle.

then... the spongebob musical opened on broadway in late 2017, i went to see it live in person for the first time... and my whole brain was ENTIRELY consumed by my love of it. i was putting that david zinn inspired pattern explosion into everything, even if it wasn't sbm fanart.

as we go into 2018, i started colouring my lineart. my biggest interest was still broadway musicals (with spongebob at the top of the list)

i think summer 2017 - early 2018 is probably my favourite art era, i was at my most bright and colourful and exciting... although i know in my actual real life i was struggling a lot with my home situation and i had been for some time. art was definitely my escapism back then, and i think a lot of the time i drew really bright, joyful stuff to try and inject that feeling into myself.

as for my university work, i was putting my focus into 3D paper-mache puppets:

and i was also starting to do more repeat patterns, mostly inspired by things around me. i'd learned how to make patterns actually tile and repeat in 2017, so made a few during my time at uni just to accompany some of my projects, but never as the focus of them. one of my university tutors told me that maybe i should put more focus on doing surface pattern, and maybe applying it to textiles, but i said i wasn't interested.

i graduated from my BA in the summer of 2018, and immediately began volunteering at the whitworth art gallery doing anything i could - stewarding, helping with arts and crafts, dancing with families...

in 2019 i was still very colourful... i was trying out more chunky colouring on characters skintones that i think was def inspired by tumblr artist jadenvargen:

but the blobbyness and ugly-cute style of drawing faces was gone by here, and i think... the way i drew characters probably had better *anatomy*, proportions were maybe a bit more realistic...

in 2020 i started adding the black shading to under the chins and some other places on characters' bodies because i started watching the anime my hero academia with my brother, lmao (and i was starting to pastelise colours a bit again, these are the most pastel-ish examples) my lineart has really smoothed back out too, though i never turned my pen stabiliser back on in SAI. i think my hand just adjusted. probably seems a bit insane to miss that, but i do.

by the end of 2020, the almost-year of lockdown over cobid had... made me a bit insane, i think, and i moved out of my mother's house and into a flat with a friend from university.

in 2021 i think things were much the same... i think from this point on is where things have sort of settled. i don't want to say stagnated, but i do think things have been very... like this for a while.

2022 - got the most exciting examples out...

also i was very into these little frames in 2022.

and then on to 2023! in 2022, i did begin trying to shift gears a bit -- hoping to put more energy into sewing and making products (like my tutor has suggested back in uni, even though i'd really resisted the idea.) i sold at a few in-person markets during winter of 2022, but got disheartened by the amount of money i had to sink in up front to sign up for a spot...

which has made me VERY grateful for the people who have supported me via online sales. it has really helped me stay afloat in 2023 - AND it has felt more wonderful than i can describe that there have been people interested in my work... especially when a lot of it has been my original designs, rather than the fanart that i expect a lot of people initially followed me for.

i've also... in the past 2 years... branched out a bit more when it comes to 'being an artist' - and have had the opportunity to deliver arts & crafts workshops with local refugee & asylum seeker support charity, afrocats. it's taken me to their home base in a church to hotels across the city where asylum seekers were temporarily placed while waiting on their new homes, and of course to my beloved whitworth art gallery, where we welcomed visitors from all backgrounds: from the typical white middle class visitors the gallery usually expects, to all the refugee visitors coming into the space for the first time.

and through my volunteering at the whitworth, i showed up so often they decided they might as well pay me. so i've also become a facilitator of... creative play sessions, my favourites of which have been outdoors. monthly, year-round, we have 'outdoor art club', where i get to paint with mud and make potions from leaves with kids & families - here you can see me tell you a little bit about it in this video below with 'crempog' a puppet character that makes videos about activities for kids and families around manchester (my bit starts at 01:10 although i am in the intro and thumbnail haha)

youtube

and then of course the summer 'PLAYTIME' activities we've had the past two years: scrap studio in 2022, and play market in 2023. it's the best freelance gig ever -- just to hang out and encourage families to be creative and have fun.

youtube

in working more in these new avenues... outside of being - as i've called myself for a long time - "an internet artist"... i've found myself more interested in this sort of thing. in being a "real world artist" too. in doing surface pattern design, and being a workshop facilitator, i find myself wanting to put more energy into these sorts of projects.

in 2023 i've also dabbled a little bit more in youtube videos! i have had a channel for a while and have made videos in previous years, but 2023 has been the year i've done the most in. admittedly most of them haven't been about my art, and more just like... random things that interest me (the spongebob musical in particular) but i've really been enjoying video editing. that's kind of an art form too, so i'm including it here!

moving forward, want to keep putting even more of my energy into other things. my shop, with a bigger range of products to offer. workshops in real life, where i can make a difference.

as for my art blog... i feel like i've done the least drawing in many years in 2023, and... well, things have been weird and complicated for a bit in my real life. i hope to draw for fun a bit more again very soon, and to return to doing things in more of a wild and crazy way, to be more creative and exciting with the way i draw things. still, here's some of my favourites from 2023:

thank you so much to everyone who has borne witness to my art journey this past decade!!! i hope you will stick with me, who knows, maybe for another 10 years if tumblr holds out. especially a big thank you to everyone who has ever commissioned me, or bought anything from my store, you literally keep me able to make art at all and i cannot, cannot, cannot overstate how much it means to me.

i'm moving homes soon, possibly into very cramped temporary conditions for a little while before HOPEFULLY starting my real life with my partner. if i can take one more moment to plug my work, then [here is a link to my online shop] and [here is my ko-fi page too.]

cheers, cheers, cheers!

- LOREN 🌈🍍🎉

#also: i did post. monster high and steam powered giraffe fanart on my main blog when i was in high school #in 2012/2013 it seems like i did absolutely LOADS of fanart for both of those fandoms but didn't cross-post it to my art blog #and uh. well. i'm not about to do it now hahaha

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stevelieber · 1 year

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Thoughts on giving critiques to comics artists.

Seeing lots of discussion from students about sour experiences with an unhelpful art teacher, so here's a long, long post about giving critiques.

NB: I have no formal training as a teacher, but I was a student, and I've spent decades giving artists feedback on their work.

When someone brings me a portfolio, I like to establish my limitations & clarify my perspective. My work is firmly rooted in traditional US comics storytelling (i.e., not manga or art-comics.) I can give feedback on other approaches but they should know where I’m coming from.

“We've only got a little time for this, so I'm going to spend that time focusing on things to correct. That doesn't mean you're doing everything wrong, or that there’s nothing good here, but it’ll be more helpful if I identify some problems and show you how to fix them.”

Why? Because for many young artists their entire sense of self worth is wrapped up in being good at what they do. (It was for me!) In school they were probably the best artist in their peer group. But now if they're hoping to turn pro, they’re at the bottom.

Sometimes you know what’s up when you see page 1, but try to keep an open mind. Some build their portfolios by sticking new pages at the back & don’t weed out the old stuff up front, so the work gets better as you go. When it’s like that I ask: “Show me your best 8 pages.”

I ask questions: "What's the goal? Do you want to be hired to work on someone else's project, or to get the story you're showing me here published?"

If 1, I steer towards a portfolio that'll showcase hirable skills. If 2, I look for what tweaks will make that particular story more effective.

"Do you have teachers giving you regular feedback? What are they telling you?" Sometimes a student is getting bad advice. In cases like that, I'll do my best to be extra clear WHY I'm giving them advice that's 180 degrees from what they've been hearing.

“What artists are you looking at? Is there someone you admire or try to emulate?” This often helps me understand choices they're making, and I can sometimes incorporate things those artists do into my suggestions.

I ask myself questions about what I’m seeing. First: Is there a narrative? If not, I make it 100% clear I'm not speaking as any sort of expert. I'm good at critiquing storytelling, but don't have anywhere near as much to offer illustrators or designers.

Can I follow the story? Or am I confused about what's going on? Are the characters and settings drawn consistently? If not, is the artist at least making use of tags (distinctive clothing, hair etc.) to keep the characters recognizable?

Does the artist demonstrate a good command of basic academic drawing? If not, Do I think they need it? Do I focus on "how to draw" or on "what to do when you can't draw?" Is the artist putting the viewer’s eye where it needs to be to tell the story effectively?

(At this point I’m usually doing little doodles to go with my instructions. I scribble out ugly little 5 second diagrams that I hope will clarify what I’m talking about. Or they might make me seem demented. Hard to say!)

Is the artist making choices that are creating more work than necessary? Is there a particular weakness? I once spoke to an artist with a portfolio full of great work when he was drawing animals and monsters, but his humans were amateurish in comparison. I spent that critique talking about drawing people.

A crit can be a grab bag. In addition to big-picture advice, I'll point out tangencies, violations of the 180-degree rule, wonky anatomy, weird perspective, places where the artist neglected to do important research, odd choices in how they spotted black, whatever catches my eye.

I also try to make a point of defining the terms, so that jargon like “tangency,” “180-degree rule,” and “spotting black” don't go over their heads. Find simple, concrete ways to talk about these things, & clarify why it's a problem when they aren't done correctly. Draw diagrams!

Recognize that even a perfectly phrased explanation might not sink in. Some lessons can only be learned when a student is ready, and it might take a year or two of work before they can understand what you were saying. It's good to plant seeds.

Are there other artists who are particularly good at solving the problems the student is trying to solve? I steer them towards that artist's work. And I always recommend life drawing & the use of reference to give work variety and authority.

Despite what I said earlier about focusing on what's wrong, I try at the end to find something encouraging to say. And if I’ve really piled on the criticism, I emphasize that I only spent the time and energy to do so because I take their efforts seriously.

If I've done my job right, they'll leave my table with tools to make their work better. And maybe in a few years they'll be looking at some younger artist's work, surprised to discover just how much you can learn when you're asked to teach.

#comics #protips #my work #comic book art #essays #teaching

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maxwellatoms · 8 months

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Hi, big fan of your work! i'm in film school now and I'm interested in going into animation. Billy & Mandy is one of the inspirations for a project I'm working on and I have a question about character design.

When designing characters for a project, what should i look out for to make their designs "coherent" (not sure if that's the right word) with each other? I mean, making them distinct but still looking like part of the same show. Specially in a non-realistic style like B&M, PPG, etc.

The right answer is probably just "practice". Keep drawing different versions of the same character until you find one you like, then fill out the cast.

I usually redraw a character tens or hundreds of times before I'm satisfied with my choice. And then they'll tend to evolve even more as you draw them hundreds more times. They'll probably never be "perfect".

For Billy & Mandy, I decided that Grim was taller than a normal adult. Kids were about 1 and 1/2 heads high. My plan was to make them almost "icons" instead of characters. Just two or three simple shapes apiece. Billy is basically two eggs on a trapezoid, and Mandy is an oval (and a negative oval) on a trapezoid.

Billy was the first one I locked down. After that, I'd lay a piece of paper over top on my light desk (analog Photoshop layers!) and use Billy as a height and size reference. That way Mandy isn't drifting taller or shorter while I'm messing around.

You could also PPG it and draw one character, then accessorize them differently. It might be a fun starting point, anyway.

Basically, anything you draw will probably look like it's drawn by you. For the most part, I think it'll happen organically.

Best of luck!

#character design

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pythonees · 1 year

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ PROJECT PASSION — xavier thorpe

WARNINGS: 18+, aged up characters, soft bodied reader, slight hand kink, frottage, biting, coming in pants, this got kinda long... sorry?

A/N: what's that, I'm posting another fic in the same month?? well, that's because my new fixation is here!!

The hallways are silent as you make your way out of your room and towards the boys wing. Most people were outside in the out of season warm weather, and while you normally would be doing the same, you've been tortuously given a project for every single class you're in. Which wouldn't really be a problem, except the first one due is a partnered assignment. One that you don't get to pick who you got to do it with.

And it's not like you hate Xavier or anything! Quite the opposite, really. Which is the root of your problem. The not so small crush you've let develop into something bigger after he broke up with Bianca. He's kind and smart and amazing at art, how could you not like him based off of that alone? It helps that he's also very good looking, able to draw your attention at the worst of times when you should otherwise be paying attention to your teacher.

Thankfully you two are friendly enough, having spoken to each other a few times before to know the other as more than just an acquaintance. And after talking to him those times you could comfortably add thoughtful and witty to the list of things you liked about him. That's probably why your crush has taken off as hard as it has.

But now, as you near the room he now gets to himself, you can't help but wonder if it would be easier if you didn't really know him at all. If the awkward air would be easier then you having to fight down how flustered you are by his mere presence. How just the smallest of smiles from him will have you weak in the knees.

Standing in front of his door you smooth your clammy hands over the skirt of your sundress. You wonder if you should have dressed more casual, like you had planned. It's the weekend, so everyone takes the opportunity to wear whatever they want, and you had taken the chance to doll yourself up a little. But now, staring his door down, you wish you didn't listen to Enid and gone with something I little less revealing.

Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door, looking around to make sure none of the teachers or another student sees you in the boys wing. There have been many horror stories of the lockdowns people get for getting caught sneaking into the opposite sex's wing of the school, and you don't want to deal with the rumours that would come from being caught here, either. Not when your doing something as innocent as working on a project.

Xavier quickly opens the door, and you're immediately assaulted with the smell of whatever "boyish" body wash he uses and his wet hair, shoulders of his white t shirt damp from the water dripping from it. You can't pull your eyes away, mesmerized by how good he looks with it down and framing his face. He doesn't have it down all that often, and you forgot about how hot it makes him look when he does.

And his smell, my god. You just wanna stuff your face in his chest and breathe deep, chase the smell and have it linger on your clothes when you leave. Your face heats with your less than platonic thoughts, and you really hope he can't see how flustered you're becoming as you stand in front of him, having to look up to see those beautiful green eyes.

"Hey, come in. Sorry it's a bit of a mess, kinda knocked some paint over and had to clean in a rush," as you step past him and into his room, you're met with all of the wonderful drawings pinned up on the wall on his side of the room, starting from above his bed and ending over his desk. He still hasn't gotten a new roommate, no one new joining Nevermore since Wednesday Adams.

"You can sit on the bed if you want, just wanna clean the last of my brushes before the paint dries," he darts into the still open bathroom, hunched over the sink as he continues his cleaning. You toe off your shoes, putting them next to his by the door so that you don't get his surprisingly clean room dirty.

While he's distracted, you take the time to look him over, his slim but fit body and the slightly baggy clothes that hang off of him. The sweats he's got on are a deep burgundy, the legs of them a bit too short for his long legs. It leaves his ankles exposed, and you find yourself watching his feet tap out a rhythm before you remind yourself that all this staring is surely becoming creepy.

Instead of gawking at him like some sort of stalker, you take the time to snoop a bit, setting your bag at the foot of the bed while you take in all of the art he's done.

Most of it is pinned to the walls, quick sketches and intricate pieces filling the space. There's even an easel set up by Rowan's old side of the room, with a canvas set up on it. The easel is turned away and placed as close to the garage wall ass possible, obviously dragged there so no one could easily look at it. While you really want to take a look, you don't want to betray his trust by looking at something he clearly wants to keep to himself.

Instead you focus on the ones you can clearly see, a mixture of random still life from around campus to random people and animals and little doodles that fill in the spaces. You're honestly a bit in awe at his skill, pushing your bag over so you can sit at the end of his bed, back resting against the metal frame to comfortably admire the drawings.

You don't notice when Xavier leaves the bathroom, too enamoured with his art. You do notice as drawing of a moth comes to life, twitching before fluttering off of the page. It flies around before heading towards you, and you hold your hand out for it to land on. It feels strange on your skin, not like how bugs feet normally feel, but also kinda similar. You go to run your finger over a wing to see how it feels, gasping when you notice you smudged the intricate pattern made from what you think are pastels.

"I'm so sorry!" You say in a rush, turning to look up at Xavier. He doesn't look upset though, a smile on his face as he watches you. You gently hold the moth out to him for him to fix, and instead of taking it from you, he reaches the hand not animating the moth to gently smudge the other side.

"There, now it matches again," he says before guiding the moth off of your hand and back to the paper it was on. It's still got the twin smudges on it as it settles back into place, and you find comfort in knowing that he isn't mad about it at all, "Alright, what part did you wanna start on first?"

"Should probably do the boring written part first. We can figure out the creative part later." You say, already knowing that if you start with the more fun part first, you won't have the energy to even think about the written part today.

Xavier nods, walking around the bed to grab his own notes and his laptop off of his desk. He sits across from you, back to the headboard, one foot on the ground while his other leg is stretched out on the bed. The bed seems to be just long enough for Xavier to lay down in comfortably, but with you in it as well, you realize that the bed can barely accommodate the two of you sitting as you are, your bent legs close to touching his bare foot.

With both of your sheets laid out, you get to work organizing all the notes, grouping them together in a way that makes the most sense. Then, you both get to work merging your notes together, you reading them out while Xavier types it out on his laptop.

His speedy typing combined with your ability to levitate the notes all around you makes the written portion of the assignment go much faster than you could do on your own. You're only able to keep two sheets up at a time if you were the one typing it out, attention too split to keep more sheets levitated without causing yourself any unnecessary strain.

Now you can rotate five or more sheets at a time, floating them around the both of you as you speed through the work. Sometimes he has you holding a sheet up for a while, wanting to pull a direct quote from a passage or to try and figure out how to blend both of your words together. It's during those moments you take the time to really admire his face. The shape of his nose, fullness of his lips, shape of his jaw.

There are a few times he almost catches you in the act, but the curtain of drying hair obscured most of his vision before he could fully look up from his hunched over position, giving you enough time to look away and pretend you were reading over the notes hovering in front of you. The notes that have slowly started to drift down during your distracted staring shooting back up into their original spots.

While actually looking over the notes, there are a few times where you think you can feel his gaze on you, but when you look up, you can never catch him in the act. So you just brush it off as your wishful thinking. Why would he be looking at you, anyways?

You get through a huge chunk of the written work faster than you though you would, getting through nearly half you your notes before Xavier had pushed his laptop away with a tired sigh. It was more than you had ever thought you would get done, and that's including the creative part that hasn't even been started yet. So the both of you agree that you can finish the rest another day, when your heads aren't swimming with jumbled up historical dates and places.

"What were you thinking of doing for our creative piece of the project?" Xavier asks, closing his laptop and setting it onto his bedside table. You find yourself staring at his hands

"It's probably more work, but I thought we could do like, a board game or something? I think it'll still have enough education to it while still being artsy and creative," you say, guiding all the papers back to you. You sort through the papers, setting Xavier's aside while you put yours back in your bag, loose with all your other random notes you were working on before coming up to his room.

"That sounds like it would be fun," Xavier says, pushing up from his bed to head over to his desk. There's a few big canvases leaning against the wall, some unused while others had beautiful portraits of people, all of which you didn't recognize, or captivating scenery. When he pulls some of them back there's some big pieces of poster paper tucked in behind them. He pulls a white one out, holding it up so that you can see it better, "This size work?"

You nod, quickly moving his papers off of the bed and onto of the laptop. He grabs up a stray pencil case too, carrying them all over to the bed. The pencil case he's got is worn, stained with finger shaped smudges of all different colours. He opens it to reveal an array of coloured pencils in a brand you don't recognize, probably the expensive kind that's higher quality than the crayola ones you have in your room.

While you sketch out the path of the game board in light pencil strokes, Xavier takes to filling the empty spaces with relevant historical sketches. They're beautifully done, and when you tell him that he's waves your compliment off with a blush high on his cheeks, a wide smile on his face while he tells you that it was nothing.

Soon the entire paper is full of a pencilled out outline of what you know will be a masterpiece. It already looks good as it is, but Xavier assures you that some colour and line work will really bring the whole thing together. You don't even bother questioning him, nodding eagerly while you levitate it up in the air, wanting to get a better look at it.

Your proud of your work, even though all you contributed was the path the player would take and some small decorative doodles drawn on the important spaces. But Xavier had told you you did a great job, causing your face to heat under his compliment and warm smile.

When you spin it around for Xavier to see, you catch sight of him staring at you. He's got the same smile on as he did when you were holding his animated moth, a soft one that makes your insides swirl and face feel hot. The look has you so distracted that the board game falls out of the air at a weird angle, fluttering to the floor. It lands face up, with thankfully no bends or smudges on it that would ruin all your hard work.

As your reaching over to grab the dropped assignment at the same time Xavier does, you misjudge where you put your hand down to brace yourself. It's too close to the edge of the bed, sheets sliding under your weight and causing your hand, and subsequently the rest of you, to go with it. As you suck in a breath, about to slow your fall to hopefully catch yourself with you levitation, you feel an arm wrap tightly around your waist.

You can't help the full body shiver that goes through you as he pulls you back into his chest, unconsciously leaning back into it to chase the warmth of his body. His legs are bracketing you as he sits down behind you, body long and lean as he plants his feet firmly on the ground.

"You okay?" He asks, voice low as he dips his head down to speak right by your ear, "I know you probably would have caught yourself, but I kinda moved without thinking."

"No, uh, it's fine. I was caught by surprise. Probably would have smashed my face off the ground or something." You say, unconsciously lowering yours as well. You don't know why you do it, but you don't want to speak louder than him and break the probably one sided tension you could feel between the two of you. This is the closest you've been to him, and you want to memorize the feel of him against you for later.

Turning your head to thank him, you don't expect his face to be so close to yours. Or for his half lidded eyes to be staring at your lips. Your tongue quickly swipes over them, tasting like vanilla gloss, a nervous habit that you've yet to kick, and his eyes somehow grow heavier as he sucks in a quick breath through his nose, "Xavier?"

His arm tightens around your waist, the other that was used to prop him up moving to rest on his thigh, the tips of his fingers brushing the bare skin of your own. You can feel the muscles of his thigh through his sweats, firm from all the runs he goes on, such a stark contrast to the plushness of yours.

"Can I kiss you?" He leans foreword just slightly, hair falling from behind his ear and tickling the side of your face. Your hand reaches up to tuck it back behind his ear, letting your hand fall to cup his cheek in the same motion. He leans into it slightly, eyes trained on yours as he waits for your response.

"Please," Xavier wastes no time once the words are out of your mouth, closing the small distance to press his plush lips against yours. His lips are soft, smoothed by chapstick but made sticky by your lipgloss as they move against yours. The angle is awkward though, with your back still pressed up against his chest. You have to turn your head over your shoulder to keep kissing him, and while you're enjoying it immensely, your neck is starting to protest.

You gently pull away, a small smile on your face when Xavier immediately tries to follow your lips, eyes still closed. You huff out a laugh, running your thumb over his pink cheek before you let him go, moving to stand up. His grip tightens on your hips as his eyes flutter open, strong fingers digging into soft flesh, trying to pull you back to him. His eyes are heavy as he stares up at you and his lips are tinged a light pink from your lipgloss, but you're able to use the small space between you to turn around and climb into his lap.

"Shit," Xavier mutters, hands dropping down to your ass, long fingers reaching past the bottom of it and brushing against the back of you leg. He tugs you into him as he immediately reconnects your lips, fingers digging into your skin. You roll your hips foreword to get as close as possible to him, landing right on Xavier's growing erection as you press your chests together.

You both moan at the contact, Xavier quickly closing the distance to press your lips together again, much more desperate than the first one. His lips are insistent against yours, arms moving to wrap around your waist to keep you as close as possible. You loop your arms over his shoulders in turn, playing with the hairs at the back of his neck as you tentatively lick a stripe across the minty chapstick that coats his lips, tinged with vanilla from your lipgloss.

Xavier instantly opens his mouth, tongue pressing past your lips and rubbing up against your own, and you're in heaven. You don't mind the sloppy desperation that seems to take over the both of you, spit coating your lips as you both try to pull the other one impossibly closer.

The desperate little moans coming from your mouth would have normally embarrassed you, becoming this pathetically horny for him from kissing alone. But you can't bring yourself to care as Xavier effortlessly pulls them from you with his skilled lips and rhythmic rolling of his hips up into yours. The answering groans coming from him as you roll your unsteady hips with him sounds somehow more wrecked than you do, fanning the flame of heat settling between your legs.

Pulling back, you try to take in a deep, steadying breath, hands smoothing down the back of his neck and dipping beneath his shirt, nails grazing along his spine. Xavier shivers, a moan low in his throat your only warning before he's pulling you back in, sealing your lips together.

He bites at your bottom lip, tongue darting out to smooth over the sting left behind before he's desperately licking into your mouth. You match his pace happily, hands coming back up to grab a fistful of his long hair and pulling. Xavier pulls away from your lips with a loud moan, eyes closed in bliss and mouth parted. He shudders under you, head falling forward and landing on your shoulder.

"Fuck," Xavier whispers, word drawn out and coated in arousal, "do that again."

And you do, pulling on it a little harder than before. It has him rolling his hips up into yours with a deep, guttural groan, his prominent erection pressing against your damp panties. His hands guide the roll of your stuttering hips against him, moans filling the room, as you follow his slower but firmer rhythm, keeping his hair tangled in your fingers.

You feel his head move against your shoulder, the barest brush of his spit slicked lips brushing against your skin. It has you holding your breath, fingers twitching in his hair. The first press of his lips against your neck is soft and barely there, but it still makes your breathing shaky, one hand dropping from Xaviers hair and gripping onto the back of his shirt.

The small pecks slowly start to get open mouthed, lingering as he lightly sucks and nibbles at your skin. His tongue smooths over any particularly hard bites, when you're hips would meet perfectly with his and he couldn't control the way his teeth would clamp down on your flesh. You don't mind though, the sparks of pain forming into pleasurable tingles that have your toes curling in your socks.

"Ahh, feels good. Please," you mumble, bearing down harder onto Xavier's clothes erection as you desperately chase the high you feel lingering just at the edges. You don't even know what your asking for, just that you want more.

Xavier moans against your throat, a question and a sound of pleasure rolled into one. He's sucking on the skin with more intent now, surely leaving bruises that you can't wait to feel when they fully settle in.

"Wanna feel you," you say, tugging on his shirt for emphasis, "mark you up so we match."

He pulls away from your neck with a loud smack of his lips, pressing a searing kiss to your lips before he's pulling back from you just enough to rip his shirt off over his head and toss to the side. The second he's free from the shirt he's ducking back into your neck on the other side, sucking what you assume are impressive hickies into your skin.

His hands settle on your thighs as yours loop around his neck, his fingers pressing into your flesh as they run up, up under the hem of your dress. His fingers catch onto your underwear, tugging your panties up and between soaked lips in his haste to get at your skin. It has you nearly wailing in pleasure as the soaked fabric is pressed right up into your clit, walls clenching around nothing as your head falls back.

Xavier kisses up your exposed jaw, giving you a teasing bite as he mumbles a quick apology against your skin. He detangles his fingers from your panties, hands moving to settle against the swell of your hips. His skin against yours feels euphoric, warm and slightly calloused from archery.

"It's okay," you say around a moan, slightly disappointed that the added pressure against your clit is gone. Your eyes feel heavy as you blink, slowly letting your head fall back down. As you do Xavier pulls back from your neck, eyes trained on your marked up neck. His hands come out from under your dress to tug at the bottom as he stares at you.

"Can I take this off?" he asks, giving your dress another little tug as if you didn't know what he was talking about. You nod, arms going above your head and hips stilling against his. He's quick when taking your dress off, throwing it in the same direction as his shirt before he's leaning back to get a better look at you.

You're left in just your bra and panties, miss matched but thankfully on the nicer side of your collection. The first thought that comes to your head is that you really hope he likes what he sees. But the admiring way he trails his hands up over your hips to sit on your waist has any worries melting away. That, and the awe filled look in his eyes as he traces over all the newly revealed skin.

"Fucking beautiful," Xavier breathes, fingers digging into your flesh. You can't help but watch the way your skin dimples around his long, strong fingers, admiring the contrast of your bodies. One of his hands skim up over your a bra covered breast and along your neck to cup the side of your face, pulling your attention away from his hand still on your waist and to his face.

"C'mere," he whispers, and you waste no time connecting your lips. This kiss is similar to the first, slow and sweet as you both let your hands roam free.

One of his hands come to rest on a covered breast, giving it an experimental squeeze. It has you rolling your hips again, swallowing Xavier's moan as you lick into his mouth. The hand not palming at your breasts comes down to rest on your hip, leaving them there as he lets you control the pace of your grinding hips.

"Think you can cum like this?" Xavier says as he pulls away from your lips, dropping his hand from your chest to join the other on your waist. He starts guiding your movements that have become sloppy in your gaze of pleasure. You nod, biting your bottom lip as your pussy clench's around nothing, "Yeah? You gonna cum for me pretty girl?"

You nod again, hips moving at a desperate pace, the slide of you bodies made easier by you arousal that has soaked through your panties and all over the front of Xavier's pants. You can't keep in the stream of moans that pass your lips, chasing your orgasm. Tucking your head into his shoulder, your nails claw at his back move above him.

You're on the precipice of the end, can feel it taking over every finer of your body. Xavier helps you through it all, whispering praises in your ear, broken up by kisses to the side of your head.

"C'mon, already got my pants soaked. Wanna see how much of a mess you can make me," Xavier urges, matching you thrust for thrust. You lean back, trusting that he hand hold you up with the arms wrapped around your waist.

The newfound space between your bodies let's you see just how wet you've made the two of you. The dark maroon of his pants have become nearly black from where your cunt has been rubbing up on him, a mixture of your arousal and his pre. His pants are so wet that you can see the outline of his cock almost perfectly, looking long and perfect and like it would fill you up 'till you could feel him in your throat.

"You see how good you look rubbing up against me?" Xavier taunts, fingers turning bruising as you both start to speed up, "gonna cum in those cute pink panties without me even touching you."

Nodding along to his words, you drag your nails up his back to pull at the hairs at the nape of his neck. His reaction is immediate, eyes squeezing shut while he moans long and low in his throat. Xavier's hips stutter underneath you before going still, the grip on his waist turning painful. You barely notice that he's stoped moving, continuing to grind on him until your cuming hard, moan caught high in your throat and thighs clamping around Xavier's legs.

Face hot and panting for breath, you force open your eyes that you didn't even notice you had closed. Xavier has his eyes screwed shut, but in a way that seems like it's done out of pain than pleasure. You quickly let go of his hair, thinking you had pulled it to hard and hurt him. You smooth you hands over the back of his head, hoping to soothe any pain.

Xavier shakily inhales, pulling you back into him. You stop him with a hand to his chest before he can press the two of you together, your other hand coming down to pull at the band of his underwear.

"What're you doing?" Xavier says, voice rough, his hand shooting out to grab your wrist. It's loose enough for you to pull free of, but firm enough to keep you from pulling at his waistband anymore.

"Want you to cum too," you say, dipping foreword to mouth at his neck. You can feel his answering moan against you lips, sucking a mark that won't even do justice to the amount you know litter yours.

"I, uh," Xavier swears under his breath, letting go of your hand to anxiously push his hair back, "shit, don't laugh, okay?"

"Why would I laugh?"

At first you don't think he's going to tell you what's going on. He just stares at you dejectedly, eyes darting away from your face to stare down at his destroyed pants, "I already came."

"That's okay. Don't know if you noticed, but I came pretty hard and I've still got my panties on," you say, a smile on your face. It pulls a tiny smile from Xavier, and his hunched shoulders start to loosen, "Really, I don't care. Honestly, it's really fucking hot that you came in your pants for me."

All tension seems to leave his body, the small smile on his face blooming into a beautifully large one, "Yeah? Think it was good enough to go on a date with me next weekend?"

You feel giddy with excitement, smiling wide as you cup his cheeks. You can feel as his smile somehow grows wider, and you can't help the excited giggle that escapes you.

"Hell yeah."

©︎ pythonees — do not, under any circumstance, repost, plagiarize, modify or translate my work.

#xavier #xavier thorpe #xavier x reader #xavier smut #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #wednesday netflix #xavier thorpe imagine #Ꮺ. my work #Ꮺ. smut warning

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nr1chaedickrider · 3 months

Text

And then I go and spoil it all, by saying something stupid like - i love you.

Tzuyu never thought that a walk in the snow could turn into talking with the nerdy pianist of the school band.

Love is a strong feeling.

It can do you good,

It can hurt you.

So is hate.

Two strong feelings that can affect you, that change how you talk to a person, how you think about them, how you feel about them.

For Tzuyu, however, these feelings are too strong.

She tries to ignore them.

Emphasize, she tries.

Desperately, she places her brush on a small table next to her.

She doesn't like what she has drawn on her canvas.

And it's not because it looks bad, no, Tzuyu would say of herself that she's actually pretty good at it, there's always someone to compliment her on her work.

It's more that the drawing looks too much like that one girl.

Better said, Dahyun.

Very talented, loves music and plays in the school band. Tzuyu has English and art with her.

Tzuyu is also in love.

Whether you can even call it being in love is the question.

Tzuyu would probably never say "I love dahyun" because she thinks it's stupid.

They are friends, have met up several times, sit next to each other in English and Art classes.

But for Tzuyu, it's one-sided love - because Dahyun would definitely not love the quiet girl who isn't good at anything except art.

Tzuyu lets out a sigh and looks beside her, out of the window.

The streets full of snow, the sky dark blue, a few lanterns illuminating everything.

She decides to go out, maybe it will help her get inspired to draw something.

Something that has nothing to do with Dahyun?

She puts on her coat, a scarf around her neck.

She turns off all the lights before closing the door and going out.

Every time she takes a step in the rather deep snow there is a muffled sound, somehow annoying but somehow also so pleasant.

Sometimes an old couple walks past her, or people walking their dog.

And Tzuyu thinks about how all these people have their own lives, how interesting it actually is.

And as she walks on, she hears a voice calling out to her.

At first she thinks it's her mother nagging her for dressing too thinly for such cold weather.

But when she turns around and looks at who has actually called her,

she is standing right in front of Dahyun.

She has a smile on her lips, and just like Tzuyu, she's also wearing a coat and a scarf (which is actually too big for her, but Tzuyu thinks it's cute).

"Oh, Dahyun," Tzuyu replies with a smile.

She hopes the smile doesn't look too fake, because she wasn't planning to meet Dahyun during the walk, when she actually wanted to let all the things disappear from her mind in peace.

If you want to be a little more extreme, Dahyun is actually the reason why Tzuyu is out here at all, even though she could be at home, in the warmth, alone.

"What are you doing here?" Tzuyu asks as the two start walking side by side, because she knows that Dahyun lives much further away, she knows that Dahyun has a small park pretty much next to her, so why is she right here?

"Honestly, I have no idea. I'm looking for inspiration for a song, a project in my music class, and I was thinking I need to go somewhere, somewhere I don't go often, for new thoughts" she says with a small smile, "and you?" she asks.

Tzuyu ponders a little, thinking about how she should phrase it.

Because somehow Dahyun has the same motive as her.

Only with slight differences.

"I wanted to draw, but I couldn't concentrate," answers Tzuyu.

It's not actually a lie.

But Tzuyu prefers to leave out some details.

"It looks like we're here for the same reasons," says Dahyun and laughs a little.

Tzuyu would like to turn around right now and find an excuse why she supposedly has to leave.

Because she doesn't want to make pointless small talk, she doesn't want to hear Dahyun's laughter, which only makes her fall in love with her even more.

As the two walk on, Dahyun stops in front of a frozen lake.

Tzuyu looks at the lake first, it's beautiful, something she could draw.

But she is quickly distracted by Dahyun, she looks at her, examining her side profile.

And when Dahyun suddenly looks at her, she blushes, quickly looks back at the lake and hopes that Dahyun doesn't think too much about it.

What happens inside Tzuyu is that she says the next sentences, that she dares to say something she was senselessly afraid of.

"I like you"

Tzuyu says, her eyes focused only on the lake, she's too scared to look at Dahyun.

"I like you too, of course" Dahyun replies, but she's immediately confused when Tzuyu lets out a laugh.

"Not the way you think" Tzuyu says, and Dahyun looks at her, a thousand questions in her head.

Tzuyu is still looking at the lake.

"I love you" says Tzuyu.

It's silent, except for the breathing of the two of them and Tzuyu's words, it's completely silent.

This scene is like a cliché, like in those high school movies, Tzuyu thinks to herself.

And maybe she also hopes that it ends like in a high school movie - that Dahyun loves her too.

Dahyun doesn't answer, but just lets Tzuyu talk.

"I.. I don't know how it happened, but I hate it. Maybe I should hate you because you're good at everything, because you're somehow so perfect.... But somehow..." Tzuyu starts to say, her eyes full of tears, gaze still fixed on the water in front of her.

"I'm sorry" she says.

"I never wanted this" she adds.

"So please, just stop giving me hope, don't go for a walk here, do it at your place..." she says.

Dahyun feels like she has even heard a sob.

She looks at Tzuyu.

And maybe it's stupid what she wants to do, but Dahyun couldn't care less.

"Tzuyu," she says, but she doesn't respond.

"Tzuyu look at me" she says, and this time she responds, she turns to Dahyun and looks at her, a tear running down her cheek.

Dahyun stretches out her hand and Tzuyu feels like she's about to get a slap in the face for being so stupid, for having feelings for Dahyun.

But no.

Dahyun runs her thumb over Tzuyu's cheek, wiping away her tear.

Tzuyu looks at her in confusion.

"You're stupid," says Dahyun.

Dahyun stands on her tiptoes and comes closer, her lips landing on Tzuyu's.

Dahyun's lips on Tzuyu's?

And before it can come to anything more - Dahyun pulls back, goes back to her actual size.

Tzuyu looks at her, confused.

"I'll see you on Monday," Dahyun says and walks away.

Tzuyu doesn't move, she thinks over everything that has happened in the last few minutes.

And before she can somehow, finally, react, Dahyun is already out of sight.

The sunrise looks beautiful.

Usually people stay awake to watch the sunset, but Tzuyu always preferred the sunrise.

She doesn't know why.

She looks at her canvas, and this time it is not a person who is painted on it.

On the canvas you can see a frozen lake.

Something that to other eyes only shows beautiful nature is much more to Tzuyu.

At the bottom, in a small corner, she paints a little heart.

And she smiles, because this time it has something to do with Dahyun, and this time she wanted it that way.

Dahyun has inspired her to do something that Tzuyu should have done a long time ago.

Her thoughts are interrupted when she hears her cell phone ring twice.

'Two new messages:

Dahyun:

Tell me what you think,

*audio file attached*'

Tzuyu blinks once, then twice, and then a third time to see if it's really true.

The title of the audio file is what shocks Tzuyu, something that gives her a tingle in her stomach.

'Frozen Lake - A love song'

Tzuyu picks up her cell phone and lies down on her bed, cell phone beside her as she turns the volume all the way up and listens to the audio file.

The melody played by the piano, something that immediately reminds you of winter.

Tzuyu feels herself smiling like an idiot.

Dahyun sings softly, gently, and yet so pleasantly.

Words about love, about a sudden confession.

And when it's finished, Tzuyu picks up her cell phone and writes -

'So I inspired you?'

'Always.' replies Dahyun.

Tzuyu smiles as she stares at the messages.

Suddenly, however, Dahyun's words come back to her.

"See you on Monday"

And Tzuyu suddenly realizes,

Monday is a public holiday.

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wuntrum · 6 months

Note

do you have any tips for an artist who wants to start making one off comics? i really enjoy your artistic direction and style of story telling so i’m very interested in your thoughts on it

yes, definitely!!

-read lots of comics! and a variety of them, too--both ones in the sort of genre/style you'd like to make, but also ones in completely different genres, lengths, places of origin, traditionally/indie/digitally published, simple to experimental formatting, etc

-in relation to the last one, if a comic you read really speaks to you, take some time to study some page layouts from that comic! how do the panels vary from page to page? how much space is the text taking up? what sort of "shots" (to borrow from cinematic language lol) are they using? these shouldn't be fancy, just little thumbnails, but i find it really helps. here's a few i did from a guest in the house by emily carroll

-start smalllll. its really important to build up your stamina, just like with any new sort of skill. if you wanna make a graphic novel thats 200+ pages long, you should make some comics that are 1, 20, 50 pages long and see them through to the end before taking on a super big project.

-this is related to the last point, but i think keeping your cast of characters small at first can also help build up your comic stamina. signals was the first longer comic i made, so i specifically really wanted to focus on just jeanne (and occasionally her parents and peers when they showed up)

-character sheets are helpful, but i also think the easiest way to start getting your characters drawn consistently is through actually drawing the comic! there's also gonna be panels where they look "off" or whatever, and its literally fine, i promise

-through the smaller comics, experiment with how you go about writing your story! theres no right or wrong way to write/plan out a story so, it takes some trial and error to figure out what will work best with your work flow. for me, i've found success in making a timeline of events for the story -> loosely guessing how many pages i'll need/want per section of the story -> freewriting (trying not to edit too much, just dumping all the words out) -> thumbnailing/loose sketching/editing text (all sort of happens in the same step; i find i need the layouts in front of me to understand what i need/don't need from the text i wrote) -> tight sketching -> final . but, if that flow doesn't work for you, try something else! i know a lot of comics people find success in writing a script first, with indications of page and panel-by-panel breakdowns

-take shortcuts often and without guilt. its a lot of work to make a comic! theres just a lot of drawings involved, that most people aren't gonna look at for very long! i especially recommend for infrequent/difficult things, like buildings or crowds or cars or bookcases, using some sort of 3d asset/brush to make your life easier. if you can reuse a drawing and change the crop/expression, do it!

-use some sort of tracker to track your progress on how many pages you've sketched/inked/finished. even if you don't have an external deadline, i think it's still good to give yourself some sort of timeline to work on (i recommend setting "ideal" goals and "realistic" goals, especially if you're working/still in school/etc). for signals, i used google sheets, because you can set up columns to be attached to little circle charts, so as you check off your progress, you can really easily see how much you've done/how much you have left to do (as i type this i highkey forget how i did that before, with signals, so...you might need to do some sheets experimentation to actually do this lol. but there's probably other trackers you can use too)

-understanding comics and making comics by scott mccloud are both great books, highly recommend them (easy to get second hand/from your library/🏴‍☠️)

-lastly, haveee funnnnn

#asks #art ref #and ty for the kind words i appreciate it <3

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rfxiii · 5 months

Note

Love your writing sm🩷 could you possibly write something for the main three with a artistic s/o like their home is covered in their work (specificly paintings)

(This is such a cute request! I can honestly see all of them being so enamored seeing their S/O’s art 💕)

TW: none

Trevor, Michael, and Franklin with an artistic S/O:

Trevor Philips:

He doesn’t understand a bit of it. But he loves it! He’s a fairly on the nose guy. If your art doesn’t practically spell out what you’re trying to say, he probably won’t get it. But he appreciates the effort you put toward it, nonetheless.

He’d love to do Jackson Pollock-esque splatter painting with you. Take him outside, set up some canvases, and just let him throw shit and make a mess of paint. You’ll both probably end up with more paint on yourselves than on the canvas.

Will criticize art you’ve bought like he’s a professional. He has no idea what he’s talking about, but he’s always so confident about it. But art you’ve made, he talks about it like it should be worth a million dollars.

Would absolutely be the “oh, you paint? Paint me then!” type of guy. He will not stop until you’ve at least done a small sketch of him.

Michael De Santa:

He has more appreciation for art and your artistic eye than Trevor. That being said, he still has no idea what he’s talking about. He’ll learn to parrot things you’ve said in passing though to fake like he gets it though.

Loves to sit back in silence and watch you draw/paint/etc. He could sit back for hours watching you with your whole focus on the canvas. He honestly thinks you’ve never looked more perfect than when you’re focused on something you love like this.

He takes note of any new project you’re working on, or any new additions to the collection of your works on the wall. He’s the first to point it out and compliment you on it.

He’ll buy you expensive paints, good canvases, the newest tablet if you’re into digital art. He’ll even try to get your art put up in galleries. He’s your biggest supporter, always.

Franklin Clinton:

He used to draw on his binders or in the margins of his pages during school, and he and Lamar used to do graffiti down at the tracks on the parked trains and on nearby abandoned buildings. He’s not as into art as you are. But he does have some talent and would love to work alongside you while you’re drawing/painting.

He’d ask to hang some of your paintings in his house. He puts them up in places where they’re the main focal point. It lets him brag to people who ask where he got them- then he can proudly say that you made it.

He’s actually really eager to learn from you. If you want to show him how to paint or draw, he’ll sit there for hours listening to you. But, he’ll want to return the favor by showing you how to do graffiti art.

He wouldn’t ask you to paint him. But he’s super handsome, so how could you not want to? So, even if you could just take his picture and paint him from that reference, he’ll offer to sit the whole time for you. He’d literally do anything you asked if it made you happy.

#gta v #gta 5 #grand theft auto v #grand theft auto 5 #trevor philips #michael de santa #franklin clinton #gta x reader #x reader #/reader #franklin clinton/reader #franklin clinton x reader #michael de santa/reader #michael de santa x reader #trevor philips/reader #trevor philips x reader

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dreamlessimp · 1 year

Text

— procrastinate

summary: you sleep over at isagi’s after long procrastinating an assignment, there he makes a decision

warnings: isagi yoichi x gn reader, reader goes to isagi’s high school, blue lock not mentioned, 2.4k wc, reader sleeps over at isagi’s house, they do not share a bed, please don’t read this i’m begging

“did you read yesterday’s chapter?” isagi whispered to you, on the topic of a new manga you both enjoyed.

you looked around the classroom before whispering back. “not yet. i think i’m falling behind.”

“that’s fine. i won’t spoil it.”

you smiled, you knew the two of you would likely fall into an hours long conversation after you read it.

the two of you were sitting next to each other in class, clearly a mistake by the teacher. she didn’t seem to notice though, as she announced the pairings for a project she’d given many warnings about.

“isagi and…” she began, before looking around the room. “y/n.”

that caught your attention. she likely hadn’t seen you in conversation, so you gave an awkward nod as if your neck hadn’t just snapped up at your name.

“cool. what’s the project again?” isagi looked just as confused as you were, neither of you having been listening.

“i dunno. i think she’ll explain again later though. hopefully.” you said.

after that, you turned your attention back to the teacher, and explain she did.

“your assignment is to create a poster about our school. you are to draw your favorite part of our school and attach an essay referring to the drawing. if you have any questions, approach me during class tomorrow.”

with that, the bell rang and you moved on to your next class without your friend.

you and isagi shared many classes, the last class of your day—a free period—being one of them. when it ended, the two of you began for the library, already falling behind on homework.

the two of you walked next to each other, brushing shoulders every other step. neither of you had much to say so you walked in a comfortable silence occasionally pointing out a pretty flower in a yard, or a squirrel running along a fence.

once there, he led you to a small table in the back of the building. you dropped your backpack onto the floor as he turned his own upside-down and emptied it out onto the table.

“what did we have in math again?” he asked, sorting through his messy notebook.

you wracked your brain for a moment before responding, “worksheet. i didn’t finish it but i did the first bit.”

“uh huh. can i copy off you? please.” he gave a bright, guilty smile that you couldn’t say no to, even if you’d hadn’t already been about to hand it to him.

“yeah. i’ll work on those science questions. it’s only like 5 right?”

he had just pulled out his own, blank assignment before raising his head to meet your gaze. “oh, i did that. do you want mine?”

you did in fact want his, but you shook your head anyway. “no, he’ll probably recognize your answers. plus, this lesson isn’t that bad,”

he gave a serious nod. “okay.”

studying with isagi was a normal thing for the two of you. both of you would swear you worked better together, and no one could disagree because you each worked almost exclusively with each other.

he made studying worth it, especially considering that he’d usually walk you home afterwards even if his home was in another direction.

after nearly an hour of homework, isagi remembered that he had promised his dad he’d be home to make dinner early that day.

“sorry, my mom is out of town and my dad’ll probably burn the house down.” his explanation was clearly true, considering that you had seen his dad try to cook before. “i guess he’s too fancy for take-out so the responsibility has fallen onto me.”

you nodded in understanding. “okay, you should get home.”

he began packing up his backpack. “come on. i’ll walk you home, i’m not supposed to be back for half an hour anyways.”

you smiled, amused at the sight of him cramming his many books into an already-overstuffed bag, the sight never getting old.

the two of you walked out of the library for your house. it wasn’t late, so the sun hadn’t yet begun to set, and the weather had improved from earlier that day.

as you walked, you and isagi both had a thought at the same time.

he stopped walking. “wait.” he said, trying to think.

you paused next to him. “weren’t we going to do something?”

it came to him. “yeah. the poster thing.”

“oh right.” you said, remembering. “we can do it tomorrow?”

he nodded. “okay. it shouldn’t be that bad. when’s it due again?”

you shrugged. “i’m not sure. we can ask her tomorrow during class.”

“no point in panicking, then.” he said with a smile, before continuing walking. “are you going to read the chapter when you get home?”

“oh yeah. i’ll text you when i’m done? we can talk after you make dinner.”

“great, it’s a really good chapter. i don’t want to spoil it but a certain character comes back at the end!”

“i have no idea who you’re talking about.” you said with a small laugh, evident in your voice.

your home was close to the library, so your talk was cut short when you rounded the corner and saw your house. you didn’t want to hold isagi for too long, so after you saw it you waved him an exaggeration goodbye and walked off, telling him to get home early.

after your talk with isagi about working on your project the following day, you both were fully ready to begin.

but, you didn’t.

the next day you had a large test in a class. the day after he had a test in one of his.

eventually, it had been days since you’d last spoken about the poster you had agreed to work together on.

your teacher gave reminders nearly every class period, but she gave no time to work on it during school.

soon, even with the constant reminders, all thoughts of the impending assignment had left the minds of both you and isagi.

that was, until late at night on the thursday before it was due the next day.

it took isagi calling you, obviously in a panic, for your memory to be jogged.

“y/n!!” he yelled through the phone, clearly in a state of mid-panic.

“what happened?” you spoke back, concerned for both the safety of your friend and yourself.

“the project. it’s due in two days!” he said, still panicking. “the one we didn’t do!”

“oh.” you said, freezing. “oops.”

“uh…” he began muttering under his breath about something you couldn’t hear.

“you should come over to my house tomorrow. it’s too late to do anything today.” he paused. “you should sleepover.”

you felt your heart leap, although it was already racing from isagi’s panicked voice.

of course you had been to his house before, but you’d never slept over at his house. even if it was because of a forgotten assignment, it was better then nothing.

plenty of people would have accepted the late, but isagi wasn’t like that. he obviously wasn’t the best with schoolwork, but he was smart.

and, of course, their was his determination that he showed on the soccer field that tended to shine through in everything he did.

you didn’t realize you had forgotten to speak until you hear his calmer voice from the other end of your phone. “hello? are you there?”

“oh, sorry isagi.” you clear your throat and rock back and forth on your heels. “i’ll be there, can i come at 19:00?”

you hear the smile in his voice. “yeah, of course.” he pauses for a moment. “by the way, my mom will be back by then.”

“okay, thanks. good night!” you say, finally realizing how late it was.

“night, y/n. see you in school tomorrow.” there was a second of silence before he ended the call.

a smile appeared on your face. even if you had left it for so long, there was no way the poster would take all night. if you worked quickly, you could probably finish in time to actually hang out with him.

you rapped your knuckles on the door three times. with no answer, you repeated the process.

this time, isagi arrived at the door as you finished and pulled it open for you.

you quickly took off your shoes and followed isagi into the kitchen, where you met his mom.

“hello mrs. isagi.” you said quietly, only having spoken to your friend’s mom on a few occasions.

“hello y/n, i hear you are here for a sleepover?” isagi’s mom asked, enjoying the sight of her son awkwardly shifting from side-to-side behind you.

“yeah.” you said. “we’re working on a- “

“ -movie. that i’ve been wanting to watch. isagi quickly cut you off.

you quickly figured that he hadn’t told his parents about your procrastination, which you silently thanked him for. it would have been awkward to explain that you were only there to panic and finish a project.

he turned to you. “we should go now. we have a lot of plans for this.”

“yeah.” you said. “thank you.” you addressed his mom with a bow of your head, before moving to follow isagi up the stairs to his room.

once behind his closed door, he collapsed against it.

“thanks for not saying anything. i promised my mom i’d stay on top of everything, and clearly i have not.”

“oh, that makes sense. i’m glad too, it would have been awkward to explain to her why we procrastinated for so long.”

“well, we should probably start now.” isagi said, ending a short silence.

“yeah. i’ll do the essay if you do the drawings?”

“okay.” he gave a nod without meeting your eyes, and pulled out blank poster paper from his backpack.

although you did it to yourselves, neither you nor isagi particularly enjoyed rushing your assignment.

still, within a couple hours, you had each nearly finished and decided to switch places so you could touch up isagi’s drawing and he could proof-read your work.

while working, isagi decided to end the comfortable silence that had long reached its peak.

“what do you want to do? like after this?”

you looked up from the poster. “what?”

“we’re almost done, and you’re spending the night.” he smiled with a raise of an eyebrow. “what do you want to do afterwards?”

“oh, i…” you paused. “ -didn’t think that far ahead. i guess whatever you want?”

his face contorted into something obviously belonging to someone deep in thought. “we could play video games?”

“hah. okay.” you looked down at your lap and remembered what you were meant to be doing. “after we finish though.”

he shot finger guns in your general direction. “right, yeah.”

in a flurry of typing keys and light erase marks, you each finished half an hour later within 10 minutes of each other.

you stood back to appreciate your efforts.

isagi looked over at the clock next to him. it wasn’t that late, but you had been working for hours. “i think my parents are asleep.”

“should we be too, though?. you asked jokingly, knowing the answer would be something along a the lines of ‘probably not’.

he shook his head and led you down the stairs of his house into what was likely his living-room.

“here.” he smiled. “we can play whatever game you want.”

you quickly noted with a snicker that the boy who claimed to not often play video games, appeared to have a solid dozen soccer games.

“how about something not soccer related?” you proposed, already sorting through his games for something you could both enjoy.

you settled on a basic fighting game where you’d be pit against enemies, on the same team. as long as neither of you were charged with friendly-fire, it would be calm.

after an hour of play, isagi abruptly stood up and shut down his gaming system. unfortunately, this left the room in an eerie dark that you were more then keen to get out of.

from the darkness, isagi began to speak. “we have school tomorrow, so we should probably get to bed.”

you let out a muffled laugh, and followed the sound of his voice to return to his room from the unfamiliar area. “yeah, it won’t help to pull any all-nighters on week days i guess.”

you, again, followed him up his stairs into his room. he gestured at a futon on the ground and spoke. “i’ll sleep on the futon, you sleep on the bed.”

you smiled. he could be ridiculously sweet sometimes, not even leaving you room for refusal.

“fine. if you wake up with back-pain in your own room, it’s on you,”

he, again, smiled. “deal.”

he turned his lights off and moved his door to be mostly closed, leaving the door slightly ajar.

the two of you quickly settled in, and a light silence took over the room as you both drifted off to sleep, in different beds.

except, isagi couldn’t sleep. for a long while, he tossed and turned on the futon, plagued with the feeling of something being wrong.

it wasn’t you, the fact that you were in his room. it was, that he was so far from you.

he vowed to himself, that in the morning, he would change that.

you woke up easily, and early. for this, you blamed isagi’s alarm clock.

getting ready for school was a bit disjointed due to your and isagi’s conflicting morning routines, but you both tried your best. in the end, you both were ready for school, on time.

walking to school together with isagi certainly wasn’t rare for you, but you could have sworn he was going the wrong direction.

still, you chose to say nothing considering how little he was ever late. that, and the determination in his eyes was evident from a mile away. you didn’t doubt him.

in isagi’s mind though, he was starting to regret his split-second decision. he trusted himself though, and continued on.

finally, he stopped. you were confused at this and stopped as well. “are you ok- “

“i like you.” red erupted on his cheeks at his statement, as your eyes widened and cheeks burned as well.

in your state of shock, you responded breathlessly. “i like you too.”

he moved closer to you and tentatively took your hand in his. without words, a soft grin took over his gestures and he led you to school, where you arrived just on time, as a new couple.

#isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi fluff #isagi yoichi #blue lock isagi #blue lock #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #bllk isagi #bllk fluff #ssimpfics

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staceymcgillicuddy · 9 months

Note

#12. "Just do it."

Thank you for letting me indulge yet another one of my "fifty different ways they could have met that didn't involve anyone dying" daydreams. Mwah!

“Just do it,” Eddie says to his reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror. “Today. Today’s the fucking day, yeah? Just do it.”

How can he do it, though, with a zit on his nose? Eddie doesn’t spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about his face or anything, but like… that dude’s a whopper. Red with a white center, and he should probably squeeze it, but if he does that, it might bleed, and he can’t decide if it’s better or worse to ask Chrissy Cunningham out with a zit or the bloody scab of where a zit used to be.

Probably he should just pop it at home and wait until tomorrow. That’s the solid course of action. Besides, he has Hellfire after school, and if he asks her out today, he’ll be distracted, and the sheepies deserve his full and undivided attention.

Plus—plus!—he and Chrissy have been partnered up for a month on this stupid English project, and it’s due on Friday and today’s Wednesday, so if he asks her out and she says no, that’ll throw off the whole vibe of their presentation. Which, if he says so himself, is a pretty badass show. Funny what happens when you actually make an effort in school, even if it’s just to impress the pretty blonde who initially didn’t seem thrilled to be partnered with you but now laughs every time you make a dumb joke.

It’s a lot easier for Eddie to concentrate on a task when he knows Chrissy’s gonna smile and say something like, “Eddie, that’s so good!” or “I never would have thought of that!” when he’s done.

“Friday,” he says to his reflection just as the door to the bathroom opens and some bespectacled freshman stumbles in, sees Eddie, and beats a hasty retreat.

Yeah, that feels about right.

It’s his free period, and he was originally gonna meet Chrissy in the library to work on their poster, but she put a note in his locker this morning saying it was a lovely day and could they please work in the quad instead?

She’s got the girliest handwriting, and he definitely sniffed the paper to see if it smelled like her perfume.

(One time, she left her scrunchie on the table, and Eddie stole it while she was in the bathroom. It’s uh… seen some things. He’s a dick. But, whatever. She has eighty of them.)

When he arrives, Chrissy’s already sitting at one of the four painted-green picnic tables that decorate the quad. Her hair’s in a ponytail, which he pulls to announce his arrival because he’s five and she’s cute, and he wants to shove her down a slide on the playground to tell her he likes her, or whatever.

Jesus Christ, life would be easier if she hadn’t dumped Jason Carver two weeks ago, thus opening herself up as an actual option rather than a fantasy. And, sure, Eddie gets that he’s not even remotely close to her league, but whatever. Even a first date would be more than he deserves.

Chrissy twists at the tug on her hair, and her mouth’s painted with his favorite shade of peachy-pink, lips twisting into a smile. “Hi, Eddie.”

“Hey, sunshine. I finished those drawings.”

“Oh, let me see!”

Their presentation is on A Tale of Two Cities, which Eddie actually read (because he really is determined to fucking graduate this time), and also sort of dug because there was a lot of war and intrigue. It’s not Asimov, but he can see the appeal. For the presentation, he and Chrissy are doing a poster depicting the major plot points, and when she found out he wasn’t the world’s worst artist, she asked him to draw and…

Yeah, he’s been making an effort. Not just because he wants to get in her pants, either, but because he likes her as, you know. A person. She’s kind of weird, and he likes how her brain works.

Sitting across from her, he tugs out some loose printer paper from the ream Wayne stole from the plant a year ago. Management would be furious, Eddie’s sure.

Fuck management. Every time he rips the edging off a fresh piece of paper, it makes him smile.

“Oh, wow, Eddie,” Chrissy says when she sees the final piece, which is Carton approaching the platform with the guillotine. “This is amazing.”

“Ah, thanks,” he says. “It’s no big deal.”

“No, it’s perfect. And I lettered the quote.” That had been Chrissy’s job—picking out the appropriate sentences and hand-lettering them on paper she soaked in tea to make it look old. “Once we have them pasted on, we’re done.”

“So… cool, yeah. Done.”

Chrissy carefully places his final drawings in her folder and shrugs. “We don’t have to meet tomorrow, I guess.”

Shit. Eddie leans forward, fingers digging into the edge of the table. “Uh. Oh. I guess not?”

“Maybe just Friday, before we present?”

“Totally.”

“Cool. We'll kick butt, and then hang out Friday night.”

Eddie's brain stutters to a halt. "We're hanging out Friday night?"

"Yes. You're taking me out to the movies."

#bsc diaries #khaleesa #prompt meme #flash fiction #hellcheer #fanfic #hellcheer fanfic

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love-kurdt · 4 months

Text

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 5

word count: 578

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

October 3, 1987

Dear Will,

Why does loving you feel so wrong, yet so right? It seems like for every thought I have about you, another comes to bite me in the ass. I wish I could just think about you in peace without all of the shame. But at the same time, I know it isn’t normal for me to like you, to love you, to want you. I’m usually able to stop my mind from wandering into that territory, but there’s something about you that is making it more and more difficult for me to resist those thoughts from entering my head. I think the main culprit is your shoulders. Yes, I said it. I am attracted to your shoulders. Specifically when you wear your polo shirts that are a size or two too small and hug your upper body a little too tightly. Or when you steal my leather jacket and shove it on, and it accentuates your arms, rather than making them disappear like it does to mine. You’re so attractive, it’s actually crazy. I think my brain needs to catch up to my heart. Because my heart is thriving, but my brain is a killjoy.

On another (less horny) note, it feels amazing to have you back in school again. I meant it when I told you that Hawkins wasn’t the same without you. I wasn’t the same without you. But now I have you. As a friend, of course. Obviously. And that’s totally okay. Because now, walking through the hallways doesn’t feel so lonely. Now, when someone says something funny, I’m able to turn and see your reaction. Now, I can put effort into my English notes again, because someone never reads the assigned chapters. And now, I’m not going to fail art!

Speaking of, I might have run out of space in my binder of your art. So I had to run to Melvald’s to pick up another one. Your mom had so many questions, and I was a stuttering mess for literally no reason. I ended up telling her it was for an English project, which was a stupid idea, because I momentarily blanked and failed to remember that we’re in the same class. Your mom got all wound up like she usually does and sent me off with a second binder to drop off at your house on her behalf, because she didn’t know we had a “project” due. I was so embarrassed, standing in your doorway and watching your face morph from surprise to confusion, then to amusement. But seeing you laugh at my idiocy made it all the more worth it. And now you have a random binder in your possession that is definitely not for an English project. I hope you find some use for it.

When I got home, I started putting your newer drawings in the second binder, and kind of spent an hour staring at and analyzing them when I should have been doing homework. So your notes for the next few chapters of The Grapes of Wrath probably won’t be too detailed this time around… sorry. I can’t help that I’m completely obsessed with you. I should probably get to those notes, though, before I forget to take them altogether. Plus, we have plans to ride bikes to school early so we can work on our next campaign, and this overdramatic paladin needs his beauty rest.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Love,

Mike

previous letter | next letter

homepage

#byler #byler fic #byler fanfic #byler tumblr #mike wheeler #will byers #will x mike #mike x will #stranger things #stranger things fic

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fandombrainrots · 1 year

Text

I didn’t post this on the wrong account you did-

Chapter 2: investigations and superstitions

——————————————

Inside the Watchtower, the League was fighting over who should go to Amity. Flash was the first one to speak up, slamming a fist on the table for everyone’s attention. “We need supers there! It would be safer considering we could properly fight without much risk!” Hal huffed out on the other side of the room, glaring at Barry.

“Are you kidding? The town has reports of possession! What’s gonna happen if a super gets possessed?” Everyone hushed at the thought of being possessed, the situation slowly sinking in.

“I will go.” Batman spoke up from the head of the table, all eyes turning to him.

“I can take some of the Robins with me, and disguise it as a charity event. I’m the most reasonable to go since I would have an alibi.”

The table went silent at the statement. Batman watched as the idea slowly set into everyone’s heads. “That might actually work. Afterall, he has kids who would be able to get close to Danny, and as they do that, Bats here would be able to get close with the locals and find out if it's truly just a kids trend.”

—————————————————-

“Yooo Danny, did you see that your video went viral?” Tucker casually dropped over the comms as Danny was patrolling around Amity.

“I’m sorry, it went what?” Danny halted in the hair for a minute before dipping down into the park. “Ya dude! The Zone has been trending for a while now, and someone found yours. Everyone has left comments saying that you’re the ‘chosen one’ cause so far you have the only clear footage inside.” Sam started to laugh over the comms as Danny let out a groan. “Dude! You accidentally made a parody of your parents!” This time Danny wasn’t able to react fast enough to the comment, slamming into a wall as a result.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I did not.” He quickly sat down on a roof, pulling out his own phone before pulling up the video he posted only a week ago. He made it because tears in between the two realms were becoming more common, and as Phantom, he had already had to help a few people escape. It wasn’t meant to go viral, just help. Although getting attacked by Shulker at the end and leaving it in probably wasn’t the best idea. Danny also knew that his parents were still decently active on their channel, and while he could see their videos, Tucker had worked it out so that they could never see his. While he hadn’t watched their videos, Sam and Tucker did, explaining why they found the connection.

Do you think people will realize we are related?” Danny asked as he looked over the town. He fiddled with his phone as he did. It had now been two years now since the accident, and most of the rogues respected him enough now to leave him alone during the school day. He had finally gotten his grades back up to a decent level, though they still bothered him at night. “I doubt that they won’t. Your parents’ videos are already pretty popular since, even though they are wrong, they were the only videos explaining what the zone even was.” Tucker explained over the comms as Danny snapped out of his thoughts. “What if you did more though?” Sam cut into the conversation. “Did more of what?” Danny asked her, deciding that he could head home now.

“Make more parodies of your parents' old videos! You can correct their theories while also drawing attention. And by not outright saying your relation to them, you can become this online cryptid of the Zone.” Sam explained, clicking being heard on her side of the line as she started typing something.

“You're telling us that Danny should make a youtube channel about the Zone? Isn’t the whole reason we haven’t posted about it before is to keep it safe?” Tucker asked Sam, confusion lacing his voice. “Well why not! We obviously don’t give away the major bits and pieces, like the fact that ancients are real, and maybe nothing about phantom for safety, but we can explain how it's dangerous, and why people shouldn’t actively try to find the zone. Sure Danny’s first video might confuse them, since he willingly went inside, but if we take it down and start anew, we could make safety psa’s on what to do if it does happen!” Sam exclaimed with an excited voice, Danny’s gears grinding in his mind at the implications. “I think that’s a good idea… Tucker, how fast do you think you can take the old video down?” Danny phased through his wall, landing in his room before transforming back and rushing to his computer.

“I can get in down in ten minutes, do we want a proper channel name this time?” Tucker replied, clicking now resounding from his end. “Oh, oh! Call it ‘Into The Zone!’ It can add to the cryptid vibes that you're gonna try to give off.”Danny grinned as he opened YouTube,“Do it!” He called out over the call, watching as the video he posted only a week ago disappeared, the fifty thousand views it had gathered disappearing down the drain with it as well.

“We need to script the next video, and find a video of your parents’ that we can take from and fix.” Sam said, pulling up his parents' old channel as she went through their videos to find one they could steal. “We should probably make the psa video first, a channel intro of sorts that explains the danger of the zone before they watch anything else.” The trio set to work writing a quick script, planning out the new channel late into the night.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Battsssss! We’ve got a problem!” Flash called out, the youtube video he had been reviewing now gone from his screen.

——————————————————————————————————————

@dannyphantomphan @letsbegoblingods @thexfile4o4 @d-j-t-15 @queen-of-the-grapefruits @wildbacon @itshype @arend000-blog @elvesandlanterns @mimilikey @may-rbi @miraculousandmore @luffyrose @aroanorth-west @lunaria618 @blackrabbitt3t @mnemovoid @ultimatebluff @kgne-k @stargirl1331 @arc-777 @ghoststoneguard @dolfay @midnightenigma @trainer-sean @evana-47 @d4ydr34min9 @kyrianclawraith @thegatorsgoose @britcision @jesimilu @tealty @eonic @newgraywolf @fisticuffsatapplebees

I hope I didn’t miss anyone!

#dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #batman #dcmultiverse #Danny your giving the bat an aneurysm #tucker your not helping

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parkerpeter24 · 1 year

Note

totally projecting but would u write a tasm!peter parker x reader where the reader has problems w her family? like not omg toxic family or anything just like, they fight a lot and she feels like she just doesn’t deserve the love they give her and she is just the problem you know?

anyway bye thanks lol

it’s me. hi. i’m the problem, it’s me.

anti-hero

pairing : tasm!peter parker x reader

this is not my best such a bad work because i haven’t written in a hot minute 🥹

nwh masterlist 🕸️

peter was busy last week. very busy. which led you to hanging out alone at school and looking at your phone way less frequently than you did due to the number of texts you exchanged throughout a day. however, it had managed to keep your parents happy since they always talked about focusing on the more important aspects of life rather than looking at your phone all day.

little did they know the most important aspect of your life was in the phone.

when your mobile finally pinged with a notification, you lurched to pick it up from your nightstand, expecting it to be peter, but it was just a random spam message.

“i think i asked you to clean your room before sleeping.” your mother’s voice came and you looked up to find her in the doorway.

shrugging casually, you replied, “sorry. didn’t feel like it.”

your mom sighed before you watched her walk closer to you and hold out her hand, “come on, give that phone to me, you’ve been staring at it again.”

“mom!” you whined.

“i only want what’s the best for you, dear.” there it was again, her revised speech about how you should work towards betterment and leave everything and help her and your dad in the chores of the house, that it would teach you “-you how to deal with real life situations.”

“right.” you handed her your phone, dreading the weekend ahead.

on saturday night, you waited two past midnight for peter to knock at your window but he never came. earlier that day you’d had a small argument with your parents about your future. it happened everytime you brought up how you wanted to be a writer, but they would try to present ‘better job ideas’ which would always end up in doors being slammed loudly, mostly by you.

on monday, you saw peter by his locker. a smile crept up his face as soon as he saw you, but it fell just as soon because you ignored him and walked right past him to get to your class. it wasn’t his fault but you just wanted him to be there for you, saturday night. be there. that’s all he had to do.

the thought that it was so selfish of you added to the guilt that had already piled up inside you. he was probably out there, saving lives of innocent people, and here you were with your baseless reasons and treating him with silence.

however, peter followed you like a lost puppy wherever you went. he followed you to the homeroom, first period, sat beside you like usual. you were still ignoring him and from the corner of your eyes, you could see his eyebrows twist up in confusion, “y/n, honey?” he called out your name and you just hummed in response leading his face to twist further up in concern, “is everything okay?”

“everything’s fine.” you confirmed.

peter didn’t seem convinced.

he followed you as soon as the recess bell rang. he bought your favorite milkshake for you and saved your usual seat. you seemed awfully quiet today and peter only wanted to know why. he placed the milkshake in front of you as soon as you sat down and flashed you one of his charming smiles, “best milkshake, only for the best person i know.” he pointed to you.

you gave him a little smile, feeling nice for a change as you picked the milkshake up and stabbed your straw into the carton.

“you wanna talk about it?” peter asked, watching you as you gulped down a sip of the sweet heaven.

you thought you’d be madder that peter never showed up to your house earlier but his hand rested on top of yours and everything felt a little less stressful.

“how do you know?” you let your hand rest underneath his, his thumb drawing circles over your skin.

“i know you.” he mumbled, “and this is unlike you. and i miss you.”

there was no way this boy could get any cuter. you gave him a small smile, and nodded, “i’ll tell you later.”

the day felt a little better after that. you and peter walked home after school together. november was starting to feel like november finally as the wind blew against your skin. the two of you got to peter’s place. may was at work till evening so the two of you decided to heat up some food she’d left in the fridge. after that was done with, you decided to get on with your homework.

halfway through that, however, the two of you ended up cuddled on the bed, beneath peter’s comforter. the brunette was starting to drift to sleep but your voice woke him up, “peter?” you mumbled against his chest.

“yes, princess?” he asked.

“do you think it’s me?”

he looked down at you, eyes still half lidded because of tiredness, “do i think what’s you?”

“do you also think i’m the problem?”

peter’s eyes weren’t partly lidded now. in fact, he was fully awake, staring at you with confusion and pulling you closer to himself, “what makes you say that?”

“my family probably thinks that.”

his fingers ran through your hair soothingly, trying to keep you calm. peter didn’t have a reply to your last statement because he’d been there. he had wanted to be a better nephew to may and he’d wanted her happy but he felt like all he did was make the poor lady worry about his whereabouts.

“you’re definitely not the problem.” peter mumbled against your hair, “not to me in the least.”

you nodded as a thank you and peter understood, “i didn’t mean to be rude to you. i-i was just so angry at my parents. we had this stupid argument, the same old stuff.”

“i’m sorry.” peter mumbled, listening to you ramble without any complaints, his hand rubbed your back slowly, calming you down and eventually you drifted to sleep.

peter felt proud of himself for helping you sleep as soft snores tumbled past your lips. only one thought remaining in his head before his own eyes closed.

he would never let you feel like the anti-hero.

———

tags : @the-girl-in-the-chair @annathesillyfriend @uwiuwi @tommyfroggie @saturnpeter @ellabellabus07 @comfort-reads @holland-styles @spideyspeaches @prancerrparkerr @usergarfields @theglitterymess @quaksonhehe @lowkey-holland @starlight-starks @piscesparker @incorrectsourwolf @wildxwidow @blankspaceblankday @kelieah @arvinsvintage @parkersdahlia @icarusafety @raajali3

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x you #spider man x reader #spider man x y/n

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siriannatan · 6 months

Text

At The Edges - fWhipScott

Sometimes you get an idea and you have to write it and share it because you're unreasonably happy with it. This one's one of those :}

fWhip messed up. He knows it. Not entirely. He got the job done. He still got shot. But the mark got shot worse.

He got on the plane back home, over the divide, a damn bumpy flight. With the damn bullets still in him. And more adrenaline and alcohol in his blood than is probably healthy.

He can't go to any doctor west side like this. Sausage could probably patch him up. Can he even drive all the way to his house?

Where else can fWhip go?

Gem will drag him to the hospital against his will. Pearl too. Jimmy's not talking to him.

Sausage it is. The best chance of no hospitals.

He somehow managed to drive his terrible rental car to the right neighbourhood. He's pretty sure he got the right house. The window he told his charming brother to open was open...

He barely squeezes through the damn thing. Was it always this tiny? He thought as he hit the white floor tile. Wasn't Sausage's like tan brown?

Scott was having a lovely evening if anyone asked. Why would being stood up on a date, not even a first date with that particular jerk, ruin his evening?

Why would his brother sending a wedding invite upset him? He was simply sad Xor could not deliver it in person. Wedding planning had to be eating a lot of his time.

Why would his favourite take-out place be closed this particular night for incentivisation upset him?

Sitting alone on his nice, comfy couch. Under a soft, cosy blanket. Eating terrible pizza, fries and bourbon-vanilla ice cream and chasing it with some terrible soda. A perfectly normal evening in his opinion. Everyone should have an evening like that from time to time.

*THUD*

Scott almost spilt all his popcorn when something hit his kitchen tiles. Not thinking much. With a nearby broom, he went to check the noise. He did not want to draw his neighbours' attention.

All too happy people. Surely hiding something terrible behind those fake smiles. Especially the two handsome guys on his left. Serial killer level of perfect and happy.

In the kitchen, under the window. Luckily there was nothing there since Scott sometimes used the window as a convenient way to drop his groceries. Was a man. Not too tall a man with ginger hair who definitely did not fit the neighborhood. "Hello? Sir? Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?" Scott asked, poking him with his broom.

"No hospital..." The man groaned and passed out. Great.

With a shaking breath, Scott decided to be stupid and help the man. It's not like his day could get any better than it already was...

He started by rearranging his position. Carefully and gently. It's been ages since he graduated med school. And almost as long since he worked in healthcare. But he still remembered some stuff. And had some stuff.

With the man in a better position and with no confirmed broken bones or damage to the head. No lumps or bumps. He retrieved the old bag of med tools.

He made sure to keep the tools in top condition. And just recently went through it to replace what was no longer good—an old habit.

"I'm sorry it's to help you," he apologised before cutting stranger's undershirt open. It was tough fabric but nothing good medical shears couldn't deal with.

Four bullet wounds instantly jumped into his mind. He was on the east side... Likely didn't live there. Maybe... No time for that.

He cleaned the wounds, thankfully not too deep. He gently removed the bullets as well as he could without any assistance or making the wounds worse. Once he was sure it was all good he stitched them and a few cuts as clean as he could.

What was he to do with a stranger on his kitchen floor now? They were clearly a mercenary, judging by their clothes and weapons. Probably knew someone in the area. Went to the wrong door due to his injuries.

For now, Scott pulled up a stool. Moved all his sharp things out stranger's reach. Got him a pillow. The floor tiles were not good to lie on.

And waited with his sharpest scalpel. He didn't have to wait long. Mercenaries tended to be tough.

"Ugh... Saus..." The mercenary groaned, sitting up and froze when he noticed Scott.

"I think you got the wrong house, I removed the bullets, cleaned the wounds and stitched them," Scott explained, slowly, carefully. Fully aware no one on this side could know how to properly deal with billet wounds. Especially a mercenary. But he already helped and at least for now had the upper hand. And the man's kind of pretty. And Scott's evening was crappy enough.

"Oh... I'm sorry for the intrusion then... I... ugh... my head..." the mercenary fumbled with his words. He didn't even try to sit up. Good. Scott thought.

"You probably shouldn't move too much," Scott hummed. It was really bad actually. His random stranger was quite pretty. And Scott had a weakness for pretty guys. "You can stay if you promise to not kill me," he had no idea why he offered. Maybe he didn't want to spend the rest of the evening alone.

"I'd hate to be a bother, my..." the mercenary tried with a polite smile. Cute.

"It's not, and I'd feel bad if I saw an ambulance dragging you out next door if you faint," masking attraction with professionalism, he tells himself.

Somehow he manages to convince the mercenary to stay with him. Or fWhip as he introduced himself after Scott settled him in the living room with a glass of water and an ice pack for his bruised ribs. They had a pretty fun evening all things considered. fWhip stayed in Scott's guest room. And in the morning, after a fast check-up, left.

Scott was a bit bummed that fWhip left without leaving him his number. But there was no helping it. He could only hope he'd bump into fWhip at some point. He was in the area for a reason. He likely went into the wrong window in pain-induced delirium.

A week later. Scott was cleaning his house when his doorbell rang. Not something that happens every day. Not without someone announcing previously they would be coming. So obviously he opened it as quickly as he could.

To a big bouquet of roses. And hiding behind it mercenary fWhip. "A... a thank you for not calling the ambulance," he said, offering Scott the roses and an almost completely hidden by them box of very nice chocolates.

"Oh... Um thank you, you didn't have to... Would you like some tea?" Scott could not believe his eyes and ears. Quite frankly was in a mild state of panic and shock. And it got worse when fWhip was accepted. "Sorry about the mess, I was doing a little cleaning up," he chuckled nervously.

Two years later, Scott was sitting on his couch, waiting for his husband to come back from 'work conference' sighing as he heard commotion from the kitchen. And grabbed his medical kit before going to patch whatever injuries fWhip brought back home.

#my stuff #my stories #empires smp #empiresshipping #fanfiction #empires fwhip #empires scott #scfwhip

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