#Compiling precious art

[shrimptacodaniels]

HOLY DEEP CUT, BATMAN

My drawing of the 2 awesome cyborgs from Zach and Jess’s cyborg song <33 The whole song is them listing the attributes they have from various different animals and it’s very silly.

[sidemari]

• "The way I love you"•

A short compilation of each character's ways of showing they love you.

Characters included: Aphelios, Hwei, Jayce, Jhin, Jinx, Sett, Silco, Viktor, Yone (separately and in this order) x GN!Reader

Warning: Mentions of Jhin's gun in his text section, since we're talking about a criminal psychopath, lol. Other than that, it's just a silly and cute post.

Aphelios

He must admit that his favorite place in the world is when you're sitting with him on the couch or even in bed, with your back against his torso, his legs wrapped around yours and his head resting on your shoulder as you read the pages of a book out loud.

"Some things are more precious because they don't last long"* You read the sentence, letting it sink in. "Do you agree with that, Phel?"

His eyes widened, he wasn't really paying attention to the story, even though it was a classic of literature. He was just enjoying how pleasant your voice sounded.

"I bet you weren't paying much attention"

He just nodded, his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment.

His hand squeezed yours in apology.

You squeezed it back, letting him know it was okay.

"Aren't you two adorable?" Alune sang in Aphelios's thoughts.

*"The Picture of Dorian Gray" reference.

Hwei

Letting you see his most secret artworks was the way he could show his love for you. Letting you participate in the creation of new pieces was also common, with him patiently guiding you through the process.

"Are you sure about this?" You asked anxiously, trembling when he put the paint-soaked brush in your hands. He just timidly smiled before nodding.

"You inspire not only my art, but my soul as well" His hand covered yours, helping you to put the final brushstrokes on the canvas. "I want you to be part of this"

Jayce

You could say this man likes to be a provider. That being said, he would do anything on his reach to make you happy.

And what usually makes you happy is a whole body massage after a full day of fiddling with trinkets and dealing with daunting equations in the lab.

You sighed in frustration as you laid down on the bed after showering, your aching muscles making you uncomfortable. His hands squeezed your shoulders gently, making you whimper softly.

"You're tense" His hands worked on the right places so you could finally relax. "Let me help you with that"

"You don't have to-" You couldn't finish your line, not when he was so efficiently taking away your pain.

"See?" He teased. "Let me spoil you a little, love"

Jhin

He allows you to play his piano, take off his mask and even hold Whisper - his gun - whenever you pleased. That was his deviant way of showing you were a slightly more important piece in his performance.

"When will you put this to good use, my muse?" He asked, playfully tracing patterns against your thigh with his gun. With the time you’d known him, you knew better than to give in to his distorted ideas.

"Preferably never" You muttered, taking Whisper off his hand and setting it aside. "I learned a new sheet while you were gone, wanna hear it?"

Jinx

She lives for cuddling with you.

It's always the peak of her day.

It feels so intimate and perfect.

Being with you, feeling the softness of your skin, the warmth of your body, the smell of your shampoo and cologne, feeling you melt against her, letting go of your worries as she hums a familiar tune, is the closest thing to heaven she could ever get.

"I could stay like this forever" You whispered, feeling her chuckle against your nape.

"Did you swap your shampoo brand?"

"Jinx…" You deadpanned.

"I'm just teasing you" She kissed your hair. "I could spend eternity with you in my arms"

Sett

This seems so obvious, but not only would he let you freely touch his ears, he would also ask you to give them the attention they need. Also, he would gladly allow you to see through his tough facade, giving you the chance to know how kind and pure he can be.

It was a funny scene, to say the least. A man of almost two meters of height, in his knees, with his head resting on your lap, confessions leaving his lips.

"This feels good…" He sighed, closing his eyes in bliss as you played with his ears. You pulled one of them playfully. "H-Hey!"

"You are really something" You mused.

Silco

Almost every night you can prepare for laying down on the couch, with your head on his lap, his fingers combing through your hair as he tells you stories about his past.

Often you fall asleep like that, with him taking you to your bedroom after he notices you wouldn't wake up so easily.

"We used to meet a lot back then, it was-" He was missing your voice responding to his comments. It was when he noticed you had fallen asleep, looking so vulnerable and precious as he played with your hair. "Guess I'll have to finish this story tomorrow"

Viktor

Brews coffee or makes tea for you every day, appearing by your side on the laboratory to help you unwind in the moments you were feeling exhausted or distressed with your work. It's his way of showing he cares about you.

"Here, have this" he squeezed your shoulders, taking your attention away from the trinkets above your desk.

"Hot chocolate today?" You asked quietly, standing up from your seat and taking the cup in your hands. "What made you change your mind?"

"It releases dopamine, you'll thank me later" He kissed the top of your head, making you sigh in delight.

Yone

Letting you in when his world was nothing but chaos was enough to show you he loved you dearly.

He had faced horrible creatures and devilish days for years straight, still, he let his guard down and allowed you to be part of his life when it was pure hell.

You caressed his hair with delicacy, soothing him after a day of battles.

"Can I hug you?" You asked quietly, your fingers now stroking his cheek.

"Please" He whispered against your lips, sighing heavily when you pulled him impossibly close, "You make me feel like I'm alive again" He muttered against your neck.

[mayasaurusss]

Hi! New anon here (🦠). Won’t ask how you’re feeling because we’re all in mourning and in shambles, but what do you think Lottie would be like with a reader who’s an Antler Queen? Lowkey LottieNat-leaning, but reader was the one who got chosen, and now they’re in the spring, and Lottie is THE prophet while reader is THE queen.

Thank you!

Her queen

A/N: Hello my dears, I am back! (I think). This isn't the best of my works and my writing has some improvment to do after my hiatus, but I tried to make it make sense.

Also, let's all welcome dear🦠anon eveyone! I require a round of applause please. Enjoy!

Oh Lottie, the workshipper that you are.

That winter day, when the snow was raging outside and the cold seeped inside the wooden cabin, she consulted with It, asked It what they could do to survive the winter.

When she heard Its voice echo inside her ears, cold as the icy wind and hoarse as a murder of crows and as billions of ghosts’ whispers, she couldn't believe what It was asking, no, demanding of her. You, out of everyone?

That day, she questioned herself whether the Wilderness was real, or a figment of her own imagination. But an order it’s an order, and like the true devotee she is, she compiled. 

When she came into the room, everyone’s faces looked harsh, distant, barely holding it together. The dance of light and shadows the fire projected into the room and onto their faces only added more depth to the seriousness of the situation. Had she been good at art history, Lottie could have confidently said that she had been transported into a baroque’s painting world. Or Victorian gothic, or whatever.

She couldn’t see you at first, not behind the bloody pulp of meat that was left in place of her left eye, not with you away from the center of the room, hidden in the dark, protecting yourself from what was happening. From what was about to happen.

You always looked so precious to her.

Natalie was always It's favorite, but you were always hers.

You were too busy drawing imaginary doodles on the floor, trying to do anything to forget this place to see her walking towards you. Her and your friends’ faces morphed into confusion, anger and jealousy as she arrived at your feet. Only when the fireplace’s lights were gone from your eyes, did you look up. Standing above you, the light shone around her, creating a halo around her figure. She looked almost holy to you, had her face not been shrouded in darkness.

“It chose”.  

Adorned with an antler crown, you order, help and try your best to hold the group together.

You are a beacon of light, a hope inside the darkness. Someone she can count on, someone she knows will lead all of you to safety. 

Lottie is utterly obsessed with you, even more so after you became the Antler Queen. She treats you like a god.

She gives you her share of the food, stuff your clothes with fresh medicinal herbs, kisses you goodnight every day, when the sun goes down, right in the middle of camp, in front of everybody. She looks up at you with love in her eyes, as if you were a gift the Wilderness sent her, for how good of a devotee she was.

Speaking of kisses. Charlotte, previous to the crash, had never been too much into public displays of affection. And, more than that, she never confessed anything about her little crush for you. But after everything went to shit, it’s like a cloud obscures her judgment. She had always felt this need to tell you, to come and sit down next to you and whisper in your ear “I like you”, but never had the courage.

That’s until the Wilderness itself made you their queen, and from then on, all her fears and doubts melted away.

On one of those afternoons when the air gets warmer and the light shines longer, she comes to you. You were sitting down on a log, letting time pass while you carved a figure out of wood. It’s something that always made her smile, how you could still cling to humanity in a place like this. She couldn’t. They couldn’t.

Since the evening was nearing, everyone was finishing up their tasks, sitting by the fire or losing track of time. You looked up to see Lottie’s gaze fixated down on you. “Oh, Lottie. Wha-” you couldn’t finish your words, because the moment you stood up, she took your face in her hands and leaned down to kiss you.

The more time passed, the rougher she had become with you. Her teeth pulled at your bottom lip, her tongue exploring your mouth, her breath heavy against your skin. All of that, in front of every one of your friends. 

You couldn’t let yourself be seen by anyone for a while, especially because Lottie had followed you to your tent. 

She follows you; no matter where you go, you've always got her eyes on you.

Resting inside your tent? Lottie peeks at you.

Hunting with Natalie? She gives you a protection token and prays for you while you are away.

Eating meat by the fire? She watches as your teeth sink into it.

You think it’s a little weird sometimes, but you know she means well. 

And don’t get me started on the rituals.

They are divided into two categories: the ones that are performed in front of everyone, and the ones that only you two share. Despite the height of the experience of a group ritual, it's the private ones that are her favorite. 

She wakes you in the middle of the night, when everyone is asleep and the air is cool. You follow her into the woods, away from the camp. She tells you that the Wilderness has asked her for a sacrifice tonight, and that that sacrifice is you. She tells you that It wants to hear you scream into the night, wants to feel you writhe above the ground it rules over. 

So you sit on an old tree stump, big enough to let you sit comfy on it. Lottie slowly descends down your body, until her face is nestled right where you need her the most. Thanks to her height, she has no problems in placing your legs on her shoulders; hell, you are even slightly curved upwards because of it.

She dives right down, taking you between her lips, workships you until her name echoes between the trees. Under the spring’s moon and stars only you and her exist.

Only with you she can still be human.

You are her god, and she’ll be your servant until she dies.

When you get back to camp, you’re greeted by a tired Taissa sitting by the fire, with deep eyebags, looking at you as if she could kill you with her gaze.

“You should really keep your voice down…”. 

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

A Fool For Love (18+ Fic) *PREVIEW*

Pairing: Gangster!Bakugou x Black!Bimbo!Reader

Synopsis: You were just a lowly young woman singing and dancing at your local club to care for your sick mother and a chance at fame. He was just a renowned gangster, building his lonely empire and riches on the bones he broke. And then you two met and suddenly, everything seemed to fit together...until he broke it all apart again. Now, trying to move on, you find affection with another, but your gangster ex doesn't take too kindly to that and will have to find it in himself to make you understand that you're the one for him.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Time Period AU (Roaring 1920s); Gangster/Thug!Bakugou; Bimbo!Reader; Strangers to Lovers/Exes to Lovers; Opposites Attract Trope; Sunshine x Grumpy Trope; Mild Violence; Some Mentions of Racism & Sexism; Love Triangle; Jealous BF!Bakugou; Possession/Ownership; Bondage; Mild BDSM; Marking; Scent Play; Daddy Kink; Spanking; Spit Play; Cum Play; Public Sex; Dom!Bakugou x sub!Reader; Breeding Kink; Unprotected Sex/Creampies; Fluff & Hurt/Angst

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Soooo I had this idea in my head for THEE LONGEST TIME after listening to Lucky Daye's "That's You" back to back for months now lol. I wanted to write a gangster fic for a minute now, but I was having trouble picking WHO to write it for until I did a poll on here & people chose Bakugou for it. I'm so hype to write this because I'm a slut for mafia romance (I'm a wattpad girl stfu) & I love writing period shit. I hope y'all enjoy it! 🥰🥰🥰🥰

I also have a tracklist that I made for this short compiled of songs I think fit the story & the time period it takes place in. You can find it below! If anyone has any idea who the artist is for the fan art in the tracklist, PLEASE let me know! (I found it on Pinterest) 💗💗💗💗 -Jazz

Chapters: PREVIEW. I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X.

***********

PREVIEW 

Bakugou watches you intently sitting next to him in the passenger's seat of his car, the rain pitter-pattering outside, creating a loud cacophony of endless noise.

Your sweet voice nearly gets swept up with the rain. “I don’t understand, Katsuki. I just don’t understand you.”

You won't look at him. Your beautiful, doe-like brown eyes are staring somewhere else outside the windshield, the rain reflecting back in those pools of bewilderment and sorrow that Bakugou could get lost in forever.

'I know, baby,' he thinks, his own sorrow and regret threatening to swallow him whole. 'I wish I could tell you everything. Wish I could make you understand...'

But making you understand would also mean he would have to tell you and show you everything about him, and he dreads that. Because everyone he has ever shown the him behind the designer suits, fancy cars, laser red stares, and cool exterior has abandoned him. Broken his heart. Taken his affection and stomped on it.

He is afraid of what will happen if he does show you who he is because he has no idea what you'll do if he does. That is the reason he separated from you-to leave you before you left him. To save himself the heartbreak and you the horror of seeing that he is nothing like the man you thought he was.

It doesn't make it any better than you're so sweet. So kind. So different from the rest. The temptation to show you everything-the blood, the pain, the scars, the mistakes, the regrets-frightens him so.

"I'm sorry" is all he can say to you now, sitting awkwardly in the driver's seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel for dear life to avoid trembling. He doesn't want to appear weak with you, his dear, precious little singer.

It is so lame, so trivial, but it is all he can muster to tell you now despite the brown liquor fogging his sense of rationality and his filter. He wants so much to tell you how much he misses you.

How he cannot fall asleep without envisioning your face next to him.

How he hasn't washed his pillow since the last time you slept on it just to smell your perfume on it.

How there has been no other woman in his bed or in his arms since you departed.

But he keeps it all back...for now. You look up at him now, turning away from the raindrops to finally put those pretty eyes on him. He nearly swallows his tongue at your beauty-your creamy skin that contrasts his; your baby face and dimples; your curly black hair made even curlier from the rain. The urge to kiss you lingers in the air.

"I don't get it," you say aloud, frustration and confusion evident in your tone and the crease in your brow. "What do you want?"

Bakugou blinks at you, not counting on the question being asked. It should be so easy to reply to, but he can't. Because if he says "you" then he will be forced to tell you the real reason why he ended your relationship: because he is afraid.

The silence must frustrate you more because your cute little lips purse, something you do when you're irritated. "What do you want, Katsuki?" you ask again, your frustration growing.

Finally, Bakugou relaxes his hold on the steering wheel and replaces it with your small, warm hands. You stare at his bigger, calloused, inked ones interlaced with yours as if you can't believe he is touching you. "I want you happy," he answers, true and genuine. "Even if it isn't with me, Y/N. I need you to be happy."

And despite the utter anguish that his response brings, despite the fact that he would be heartbroken if you were to end up with that stupid extra "Todoroki" or some other chump, if you were to be happier than you were with him, that would be the answer to his nightly prayers.

But he would also be lying if he said that he wouldn't be filled with envy for the rest of his days and dying to take the spot of the other man in your arms.

[pyxxiestyxx]

Treasure

I can compile silver and gold, of course. All those precious gems adorning a crown may as well be worthless glass to me. I can even create a relic of the past, spin it together from atoms and stardust. But for what use would I have for those? No. Nonono. What I want…what I desire is far harder to find.

You.

Oh yes, you. You are priceless to me, treasure. You cannot be reproduced so easily. Our compilers cannot create the way you blush, or the bashful voice you speak in when you want something from me. I can do many things, things rivaling the gods of your stories, but I cannot laugh the way you can, when you see a pretty flower on the way to the park and stop to look at it. You are a treasure, and you are one of a kind. How could I compare some…some silly yellow metal to the way your eyes shine for me when I get home? How could I lust after some useless gemstone, when the feeling of plunging my needles into your flesh is far more exquisite a pleasure? You want for treasures, dear? Tell me, and I will fill a hundred, a thousand rooms with majesties, with art and beauty that you have never seen before or since. Yet ask me what I want, and you need only to look at what I claimed as mine. You. My one and only treasure. The one I cherish above all else, for what could I want besides you? The one I hold close in my claws each night, for where would be safer than in my grasp? The one I gave a part of my core, for what Owner would I be unless I made sure you were never alone? What else could I want more than you?

[ephemii]

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐞! 🦇☁️🌙

⭑genre: fluff, romantic or platonic

⭑pairing: lilia/yuu

⭑cw: none!

✶notes: haven't posted in a hot second! got very busy with college, but i decided to write this as a treat! enjoy~

A long day had passed once again, leaving a relieving calm to wash over the campus. Golden afternoon glow gave way to lavender haze, a watercolor meld of dwindling daylight and the bleeding eve of night. It was on the last dredges of days like these that Yuu would be shedding their stress and aiming to unwind by themselves, weary after dealing with the troubles of their ever considerate headmage and two loveably idiotic best friends.

.... Well, that's what they would have loved to be doing, anyways. Intead, they were several dozen feet off the ground.

Their hands grip onto those of their fae friend like a lifeline, muscles pulled taut and straining as they fight to maintain a secure hold while they dangle precariously, reeling from the contrast of their fear for their life and Lilia's boisterous laughter ringing across the quiet horizon. If it were any other situation, Yuu could have mustered the praises that compiled at the tip of their tongue, admiring the way the deep magenta of his irises glinted like precious stones and the demure sunlight reflecting from beneath his flowing onyx locks of hair— alas, they were left to reserve their strength for the periodic yelps and shouts they emitted any moment they looked beneath them and the impressive height Lilia had managed to guide them through. They had never once thought that they would have such an epiphany— to realize that they had taken gravity itself for granted, they had to truly commend Lilia for making that a possibility to begin with.

"A youthful smile does you more justice, my little bat," Lilia giggled cheekily, his fangs glinting brilliantly, "why, you're on top of the world!"

"Set me DOWN, Lilia!!" Yuu ignored his spirited jargon, pleading vehemently.

Lilia’s laughter echoed like music in the crisp air, each note teasing and light. “But why would I do that when the view is simply exquisite?” He gestured expansively, as if presenting his life's work in an art gallery. Yuu screamed, scrambling to latch their now empty hand onto his sleeve, feeling like their heart had caught in their throat. Below them, the sprawling campus looked like a patchwork quilt stitched together with fading hues of the day, and once again they inwardly cursed the fae for not giving them an opportunity to admire it peacefully.

"Lilia, for Sevens' sake!!" Yuu clenched their teeth, the world swirling beneath them. “This isn’t exactly my idea of a good time!” they protested, their heart racing as they nearly whined in fear.

“Oh, come now! A little thrill never hurt anyone.” Lilia’s hair fluttered against a pleasant gust of wind, a flurry of iridescent colors that glinted in the twilight. He reveled in the sensation of weightlessness, the sheer excitement invigorating him. “You’ve been cooped up for far too long. A bit of adventure is good for the soul!”

Yuu squinted at the horizon, trying to focus on anything other than the dizzying height. “I thought you were supposed to be helping me relax, not give me a heart attack!”

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Lilia leaned in closer. Yuu looked up at him, eyes boring into his pleadingly— yet all their hopes were quickly shattered the moment his smile widened.

“How about this for a little fun?” Before Yuu could process what he meant, Lilia tossed them upward with a swift, strong heave.

Stars damn it all, they forgot he was that strong.

Yuu’s scream cut through the air as they soared for a split second, staring down at Lilia with wide, bewildered eyes. They didn't know whether to feel warmth or sheer anger at the way he laughed so exuberantly, looking like the very inspiration of joy, painted onto the backdrop of a calm autumn. Just as panic set in, and they were ready to pray to whatever gods safeguarded Twisted Wonderland, Lilia caught them with readily open arms, wrapping them up securely with his legs around them. Yuu grunted at the impact, gasping at the immediate relief rushing through them in dizzying waves.

“Surprise!” he giggled, clearly delighted by their shocked expression. “What did I tell you about living a little? How was that for a ride?”

Heart pounding, Yuu buried their face in his shoulder as they clung to him like a lifeline, mortified but unable to suppress a small, breathless laugh.

“You’re insane!” they lamented.

“Oh, but what is life without a healthy dose of heedlessness?” Lilia grinned onto their cheek, holding them tightly as they swayed gently in the air, “Look at you, all flustered. Isn’t it just the most exhilarating feeling?” he said with a reverence that made them wonder if he truly worshiped the thrill of the chase. The contrast of his deft fingers brushing through their hair caused a small shudder to wrack their limbs.

Yuu could feel their cheeks heat up as they took a deep breath, their initial fear giving way to a strange titillation. “I mean, maybe...." they admitted, peering out from their hiding spot. “...as long as you always catch me.”

Lilia processed their words for one quiet moment... Then he grinned, something more warm and tender as he looked down at them. Yuu averted their gaze, to which he chuckled quietly, that deep, melodious and quick staccato, his eyes crinkling with mirth.

“Then what say you to another round? I promise to catch you again, but you have to let go of that fear!”

With a mix of trepidation and enthralment, Yuu nodded, their heart racing in anticipation. Even then, they smiled delicately— No matter how hard they tried, they could never say no to him.

while i'm not inexperienced in writing, it's still a bit exciting finally writing for twst! i have a lot more in store, and hopefully i can finish them up and post them soon if time allows :] thank you for reading! 🤍🩷🤍

[idrawprettyboys]

Advice for Aspiring Commissions Artists

I recently had someone ask for advice on how to sell art commissions, so I thought it would be nice to compile a list for others aspiring to do so, as well as to remind myself of some important things to keep in mind.

1. Have one tumblr blog strictly for art. People will follow it specifically because they like your art, and it will be easy for them to find your artwork without having to scroll through a jumble of other stuff.

2. Draw and post just about every day! Most people will say to draw every single day, but please let yourself rest. You will end up being miserable if you force yourself to draw when you aren’t feeling well. The more you draw, the more your art will improve, and the more followers you will naturally accumulate over time.

3. Post fan art to bring in fans. You don’t have to strictly draw fan art, of course. But people are more likely to interact if they’re familiar with the character already. A lot of people will follow you for fan art initially, and some of them will grow to love your original art as well.

4. Develop your own unique style. This will occur naturally over time. Learn from artists you love, and over time, your art will evolve into a mix of art styles you like into something uniquely yours!

5. It takes time to find supporters who are willing to spend money on your art. Building an art business is a slow process, and it takes patience and perseverance. Only a small percentage of social media followers will pay for commissions or Patreon support, but those few are precious.

6. Use every platform and website you can to share your art and have links between platforms, so your fans can find you in multiple places. Examples of places to share your art are social media sites like Twitter, Instagram, BlueSky, and Pillowfort, as well as art sites like Cara and Pixiv.

7. Get a Patreon and Ko-Fi account and be sure to provide links to these means of financial support on your art posts (especially the art pieces you’re proud of).

8. Make use of as many means of making money with art as you can. Sell prints on inprnt, sell stickers on Redbubble. Youtube videos can eventually give you ad revenue. If you make comics, Tapas is another option to make a little bit of ad revenue. You can use Etsy to sell originals, prints, or even commissions! Some people may feel more comfortable buying commissions through an official store like Etsy rather than on social media, so it’s good to have that as a back-up in addition to selling through other sites.

9. Use a secure payment method that you’re comfortable with! I recommend using PayPal with invoices, so that you have proof of their purchase in case anything goes wrong. A lot of artists use Ko-Fi as well.

10. Post your commission guidelines on all the sites where you post your art! Don’t be afraid to reblog/repost your commission price list multiple times!

11. Art commissions are not a steady job. You might get nonstop commissions for a couple months and then not get any for a few months. There are some times of year when people are less willing to spend money. I’ve noticed this happening towards the end of the year. At times when you aren’t getting commissions, I recommend doing a limited time sale!

12. Price yourself appropriately for the amount of effort it takes for you to get the work done! Don’t overprice or underprice! Ask your friends for advice on what you should charge. You’ll probably want to start low and slowly increase your prices as your work gets higher demand.

13. Make your commission price list legible! Check out other people’s sheets for guidance!

14. Have patience and perseverance! It may take years after you start posting before you get a commission, but the more you put yourself out there, the more you’ll get noticed!

15. Draw what you enjoy! Maybe cater to your audience once in a while, but your own happiness is important to give yourself the drive to keep on going!

16. Don’t be afraid to reblog your own art at various times of day, for maximum visibility! Not all of your followers will be online at the time that you initially posted it.

@artist-kreating-stuff

[dekkiidan]

y'all were so encouraging on my tentative post about hearthian courting, egg development, relationships etc. post that I've compiled my headcanons into a little list for your perusal below!

please be aware that due to the nature of the topic being discussed, there is mention of sexual relationships, a brief mention of sexual anatomy and the Hearthian version of pregnancy ("clutch-carrying") discussed below so please avoid if that's not your thing - just scroll on past!

without further ado!

Courtship

A Note on Hearthian Relationships

Prefacing this with the fact that I believe hearthian relationships, sexuality and familial roles are all very fluid in comparison to the "nuclear" familial ties of humans. Basically, hearthians as a species and as a community really don't care who's doing what with whom, nor do they hold one flavour of relationship in higher regard than another. No strings attached? No problem. Friends with benefits? Whatever floats your boat, buddy! Really wanted to egg-carry and raise your own hatchling but aren't fussed about a strict exclusive relationship with someone else? You do you. Want to raise a hatchling but don't want to carry? No worries, go pick an egg from the hatchery. etc. etc. Each individual has their own preferences and that's just how it is.

Actually, @2isted-chocol8-art's views on hearthian relationships are pretty in line with mine, and they're also much more eloquent than I am, so feel free to have a read here!

Like humans, Hearthian courting varies from individual to individual; and also depends on context. There are different "rules" depending on your end goal. For example, if you just want to have a fling with someone, it's quite easy to make your intentions clear over a drink or two. However, if you're after a more long-term commitment, then the general consensus is that you should be a bit more thoughtful and courteous in your approach - and this involves gift giving!

There is no hard and fast rule on what counts as an appropriate gift and it varies from individual to individual, but, due to the geological origins of Hearthian names (and my own interest in geology), I like the idea of "stone-sharing" - the gifting of a pretty rock to signal interest. I think a lot of folks share this HC, I know for a fact that @insert-image-here and Cosmo have somewhat similar headcanons regarding stones and gems!

Stone-sharing rocks don't have to be "precious", in fact most of them are just tumbled country rock, but they should be of a reasonable size. An ideal size should be no smaller than a golf ball.

Offering one of these tumbled rocks to your prospective partner(s) is the same as "officially" asking someone to be in a more serious/long-term relationship with you.

If accepted, the stone-share is kept safe by the other party.

Marriage, in the human sense, isn't really a thing for Hearthians, but should a couple/group wish to commit long-term to their partners, they will split the stone to make jewelry/accessories from it! So, for example, Mohs and Dusty's necklace and bolo tie are from the same stone respectively.

Should a relationship not work out, the stone-share (intact or split) is returned to the original gifter. Oftentimes they are discarded back into Timber Hearth's rivers or, if it was a less than favourable break-up, thrown into the geysers.

Seasons 

Please please please please don’t be weird about this I’m begging y’all. I just think biology is cool and love that a lot of amphibians go through seasonal changes to signal they’re ready for babies, and I love the idea that Hearthians exhibit something similar.

Prefacing this with the commonly accepted headcanon that Hearthians are simultaneous hermaphrodites. They have functioning sets of what we would consider “both” reproductive organs. As such, any Hearthian, provided everything is working correctly, can both carry or fertilise eggs. 

Hearthians undergo fertile windows that occur when eggs are mature and ready to be fertilised.

The hormonal changes that prompt the egg to mature also cause physiological changes! These can include darkening of marking patterns; complete pattern changes; development/elongation of whiskers (thank you @queruloustea for letting me utilise this, I love your whiskered beasties!); ear fanning to help dissipate heat (thank you Nepsie for your inspo on this!) - body temperature generally increases during this time; and release of certain pheromones to attract others.

I want to stress that Hearthians don’t find any of this “taboo” at all. It’s a perfectly natural and normal part of their life, and folks who are in “season” don’t feel ashamed or awkward to just continue with their day to day lives as normal. Some might wear slightly lighter clothes to help with heat dissipation but that’s about it.

Due to the relatively small population, I think that Hearthians are actually pretty bad at making babies. As such, I think their fertile windows, or seasons, are quite tight - maybe 10-15 days every 6 months, and apparently everyone sucks at getting busy during this time anyway because, well, look at the population size.

Eggs & Clutch Carrying

Clutches normally begin at 3 or 4 eggs strong, but it is rare for all eggs in a clutch to be fertilised or reach maturity. Normally, non-fertilised eggs are absorbed by the strongest and used as food during gestation. However, in rare cases there can be twins, triplets or even quadruplets!

Once fertilised, eggs are internally incubated for roughly 4-5 months, before being laid into a specially prepared body of water (see, nicely incubated bucket in the hatchery) where they develop for a further month before hatching into tadpoles!

Hearthian eggs are soft shelled and slightly transparent - similar to frogspawn! Once laid, their transparent casing allows folks to do important welfare checks on the tadpoles in the hatchery!

Depending on build, some Hearthians develop a clutch bump around one month into “eggnancy.” Bumps don’t tend to get very big, but this varies from individual to individual. As a rule of thumb, bumps don’t exceed the size of an average mango.

Whilst clutch-carrying, the parent will exhibit a variety of changes to help with both gestation and tadpole raising. These include: further darkening of markings and whisker development - I headcanon that tadpoles have pretty poor vision when freshly hatched and as such rely on contrast and touch as opposed to detail and colour to make sense of the world around them! Many Hearthians put on a bit of weight also, fat reserves are important due to the extra energy being exerted to promote healthy tadpole development.

Once eggs are laid, parents don't necessarily look after their own. It's very much a communal activity. However, some couples/groups/partners may want to take a more active role in their own egg care, which is also accepted and encouraged in the community.

Also, “delivering” an egg is nowhere near as messy a business as it is with humans. Thanks to the eggs being soft shelled, they’re relatively easy to . . . expel.

Post laying, some Hearthians return to "normal" pretty quickly, while others who are more predisposed to take on a more parental role will keep their high contrast colours and extra squish. They'll take on the primary caretaker role for hatchlings as they develop into toddlers. Clutch markings and extra squish will dissipate once hatchlings are able to stand upright. (I have a whole other HC about a positive feedback loop re hatchling pheromones and hormones that basically tell the caretaker/parent Hearthian's body to settle back to normal when the hatchlings are ready, but that’s a whole other essay.)

Tadpoles hatch as wriggly little beasties, please go and check out @queruloustea lovely tadpoles for a visual. Thank you Sorrel for letting me geek out about them with you!

If you are still here, thank you for reading! I love thinking about relationships, communities and reproduction in alien species, and it has been so much fun to do a deep dive with the Hearthians. I’ll likely add and update this as I think of more stuff, but if you have any questions feel free to ping me an ask or drop me a DM!

Huge thanks to everyone who has listened to me ramble about this via Discord and DM - Merry, Nepsie, Sorrel, Cosmo, and Image -  it’s been such a pleasure to discuss these silly little ideas with you all and I’m so thankful to you all for bouncing ideas around with me!

[veebeeboo109]

Cleaning up the Timeline

{The boys have a meeting. Sylus *thanks* Zayne. Xavier takes a nap. You and Sylus go and get your bike.}

Read on ao3.

Tags: Reader/L&DS Men, Romance, Maid AU, Sylus x Zayne in this one, Possessive Behavior, NS!FW

Chapter 8: Joyride

Zayne doesn’t mean to be, but he’s a liar sometimes. His role at the hospital makes him a liar, and his promise of being home for supper is overwritten by a quick consult that turned into emergency surgery. 

Sylus watches you deflate like a sad party balloon when you read the message. The rosy-hued air that’d been following you around since you came home dimmed just a bit. If your demeanor wasn’t evidence enough that something salacious had occurred during your appointment, then the little red mark on your neck surely was. 

When you’d first walked in, Sylus had been lounging on the couch, browsing through some reports Mephisto had compiled for him– which he promptly closed when he saw you. No good for you to see surveillance footage with your face on it. That would surely put a damper on things. 

Especially when you walked in practically bouncing in place; skipping like a schoolgirl and bubbling like effervescent champagne. You were practically humming like a Disney princess when you greeted him, asking about his day and if he wanted some lunch. 

Sylus watches you from the couch, and spies the little red mark on the right side of your neck– right over your carotid, of course Zayne would put one there– and as you busy yourself in the kitchen, Sylus watches it bloom into a proper bruise. Deepening into a deeper, violet hue. 

It’s a gorgeous color. His favorite color. The deep blue-violet of a bruise made with his teeth, or the raspberry red of your ass when Rafayel or Xavier got a little too excited.

You hand him a small plate with a toasted sandwich on top, and Sylus finds himself a little….stunned. It feels wrong to make you cook and clean for them, but Zayne had insisted it was the only way, and stopped Sylus from hiring a cook and another housekeeper behind your back.

“Thank you,” You say a little bashfully, “For the gift.”

Sylus goes to the barstools and sets his plate down, “Ah, you got it then?”

You nod, “It’s a little extravagant, don’t you think? And I could do without the charm.”

Sylus glances down at your waist and then cocks his head to the side, “You got my gift, but I don’t see it. And, the charm is the whole point.”

“Is it?” You ask with a laugh, and the melody of it hits him square in the chest. It’s been a long time since he’s heard you laugh– and all his memories of it are so faded he isn’t sure whether they’re real or conjurations of his besotted imagination. 

“It didn’t feel right to open carry to a doctor’s appointment, even if the doctor is Zayne.” You continue, face flushing slightly and your eyes darting to the side when you say the doctor’s name. Oh my. What did the dear doctor do to you today? You clear your throat, “Besides, weapons aren’t allowed in the hospital.”

“Seems like an oversight when half the population wields deadly Evol.” Sylus remarks with an unimpressed grin.

You grin and shift on your feet, “I should get to work. Don’t want Zayne to think I’m slacking.”

Sylus debates arguing, but he can see your need for escape, and so he lets you. Lets you slide away and watches you go over his shoulder. You’re not walking any different so Zayne was, at the very least, able to restrain himself. But you don’t look properly ravished. Devoured in the way Sylus knows Zayne can. 

Once alone, Sylus pulls up his phone and gets back to work. Mephisto is state-of-the-art. Beyond even that because of his alterations, but even his precious crow is having a hard time finding your stalker. The CCTV he had access to: public crosswalks, traffic cams, even private business’ security footage all showed you and the hooded man. He could see you from the minute you had left the house, to the minute you pulled back up, clinging to his back. 

You may have brushed it off, but Sylus didn’t. It didn’t matter the motivation– someone had the audacity to follow you. To scare you. It was an unforgivable crime, and the unknown of it only made Sylus more tenacious to snuff it out. 

He’d inform you, of course, once he had something to show. It wouldn’t be any fun confronting someone seeking to hurt you if you weren’t there. It’d be nice to see if you were still as ferocious as you had been before. A snowy leopard– all fluffy and beguiling, but deadly. 

Sylus found himself only mildly distracted by the idea of what you had gotten up to with Zayne. He could hack into Zayne’s laptop or phone and see for himself, but that “crossed a line” as the others liked to remind him. So he was left wondering. 

He should have known Xavier had a taste the moment he walked in. Nothing was visibly remarkable to Xavier, and his scent was muddled with the smell of sweat, Wanderers, and soot. But his expression was different. His gait was a bit lighter. Like he wasn’t dragging his feet to return to this place with a gaping hole in his chest. 

By the time supper rolled around, Sylus had come to the conclusion that the only one you hadn’t played with was him. Rafayel hadn’t gotten far, the artist would have come bragging if he had, but he’d gotten something. Xavier moved around you like a dog waiting for you to toss him a treat, hovering around the outskirts of the kitchen you’d kicked him out of. 

Sylus didn’t like being left out. In fact, it was unacceptable. But what could he do without you coming to him? He wouldn’t press his luck, he’d been too lucky last time. In a different life and different time when you– beyond all reason– had loved him. Who was he to demand it again?

Sylus shot a text to the group chat, and tucked his phone away. Observing the rest of you for the remainder of the evening.

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

“I hate it in here.” Rafayel whined as he tossed himself down onto the red cushion settee. “No windows, and it smells like lizard.”

The jab was barbless, nothing more than obligatory complaining from the resident whiner. Rafayel hated ��family meetings”, in truth he just hated being told what to do. Something in his DNA makes him combative to listening. 

Sylus’ room was not the usual meeting place for them to convene, but the living room was hardly secure as you could walk in. So, during dinner, Sylus had requested a family meeting in his room to share some things. 

“What’s this about?” Xavier asked from where he stood in the center of the room, arms crossed and refusing to sit. 

“I’ll explain when Zayne gets here.” Sylus replied, letting Mephisto rest on his arm for a moment before letting him hop down and onto his wrought iron perch.

Rafayel’s head lifted and his expression was incredulous, “Zayne? Him too?”

Sylus rolled his eyes, “Yes, him too. It involves him too.”

“Yeah, well a lot of things involve him that he doesn’t know about.” Rafayel mumbled, “I thought that’s what the meeting was about. You know he’s known her for years?”

“Rafayel, it’s not his fault.” Xavier defends sharply, “He couldn’t have known, and you can’t be angry with him for it.”

“I can be angry at whoever I want, thank you very much.” Rafayel griped while pointing an accusatory finger, “I can also be upset at the circumstances and not at the individual. I’m complex like that.”

Sylus crossed his arms, “This wouldn’t have happened if we’d gone with my plan and told him everything, but that ship has sailed. We’re here, and we need to adapt”

Rafayel leaned his arm over the back of the settee and sighed, “Do we really need to hash everything out like this? We don’t get a day or two to just adjust?”

“You and I both know you’ve known for longer than a day.” Sylus said with a quirk of his brow. “You want to fly fast and loose and get caught? Be my guest.”

Xavier’s face descended into a scowl, “Is that a concern? Being found?”

“Always.” Sylus insisted, “The reason we lost last time was we got too comfortable. There will always be enemies, and you both know how much one in particular can take everything away again. Take it before we even have it.”

“Astra doesn’t exist in this universe.” Xavier said harshly, “We would have found them by now.”

“Really? Just like she doesn’t exist in this universe?” Rafayel countered, “You were so certain. We wasted years flopping around thinking it could never happen, but look! She exists! Not only that, but she’s here! It’s all happening again.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being optimistic,” Sylus added at seeing Xavier’s deadly expression, “But it won’t protect us. It won’t protect her.”

Xavier exhaled and it rumbled like a growl, “So, you plan to tell Zayne everything?”

“We should have from the start.“ Sylus couldn’t help the edge to his voice. 

The three fell into a tense silence. The air thick with churning discourse of their unsettled minds. It was easy to want to relax, and sink into the relief of seeing you again. It might not look the same as it did before, but it was close. So close. 

But the grander the tower, the longer the shadow cast. And their delicately built home teetered sky high. Shadows lurking around every corner. Each one had their demons, from the past and the present. 

Sylus wasn’t willing to let it fall apart. He’d hold the bricks together with his bare hands and lace the mortar with his blood if it meant keeping it all together. A dragon guarding his hoard, though only people remained. The gold and jewels of the past forgotten with time.

A soft knock on the door and then it opened, Zayne entering with his coat over his arm. “Why are we meeting here? Is the living room not available?”

”We didn’t want to bother the housekeeper.” Rafayel explained, relaxing slightly. 

The doctor tossed his coat over the back of a chair and examined the tension between the two fair haired of the group. His own eyes narrowed, but he didn’t mention it. It wasn’t unusual for Sylus and Xavier to be at odds. 

“Now that you’re here,” Sylus segued, motioning for Mephisto to come over. The raven fluttered across the room, sitting on the long lacquered cabinet that held a thin, glass screen. A little shifting of his artificial red eye and the screen lit up. A series of images and some videos covering it. 

Rafayel sat up, and Xavier approached.

Sylus crossed his arms tightly and let the others examine the evidence he’d collected— as little as it may be. “Someone is following our housekeeper.”

Xavier whirled, “How? When?”

“When was this taken?” Rafayel asked tightly as he rose to his feet and pointed to the still image of you near the canal, the hooded figure barely twenty feet away. 

“How do you know this?” Zayne asked, stepping closer to Sylus and examining the screen with cold scrutiny. 

“It was Sunday. I saw her and followed her myself, but someone was already there. Less than six foot. Fair skin. That’s all I could see of him.” Sylus motioned again to Mephisto, and security footage of the man in question showed up on the screen, “He was good enough to know where the cameras would be. No facial recognition because of his mask. Kept his eyes down to avoid it. Kept a distance on her to avoid her suspicion.”

“Did she know she was being followed?” Xavier asked, glaring at the image of the stalker.

“Oh, of course.” Sylus said with a chuckle, “I have no doubt she would have been fine if she’d been armed, but she wasn’t. And he was.”

“What did he want?” Zayne asked, rubbing at his jaw in thought.

“Tch, it could have been  anything.” Rafayel hissed, his voice sharper than a blade, “Though I don’t recognize his clothing or anything about him, so it’s likely not gang related. They’d wear some kind of mark.”

Sylus nodded in agreement, “I’ve checked the footage and had Mephisto analyze it. There wasn’t a vehicle with the man. He comes up from the subway just as she leaves the house, and then when I show up, he crosses the street and disappears down an alley.”

“You mean you haven’t found him?” Xavier grumbled. “Have you reported it?”

Sylus laughed at that, “Reported it? To whom? To the police? Or the Hunters? No, my prince, I did not report it. And I haven’t found him either. I’d have him here if I did.”

Zayne hummed in thought, clearly displeased, “I see why we didn’t meet in the living room now. So, what do we do?”

Rafayel approached and stood in front of the screen with his arms crossed, “Send me a copy of his face. I’ll ask around.”

Sylus nodded, and Zayne looked confused.

“Who will you ask?” Zayne glanced between the other men for a moment, “Is there something more I’m not understanding? We should report this to the authorities at once.”

“She didn’t want to.” Sylus said defensively, “I asked her and she said no. You’re welcome to try, if you like.”

Zayne clicked his tongue and his face looked grim, “There’s a few suspects that I could think of, but I thought they were gone.”

Xavier perked up, “What suspects?”

The doctor looked apprehensive for a moment, silently debating before speaking again, “I knew her when we were young. She has a heart condition— Protocore Syndrome, but beyond that she has something called an Aether Core inside her chest cavity. It made her desirable to an organization called Ever. It could be them, or someone else who might be aware of the core.”

Rafayel huffed, his displeasure for Zayne’s shared history with you rearing its ugly head again. Sylus couldn’t help the inkling of jealousy at it as well. It was years they wouldn’t get back. No one got to grow up with you in their last life, and what a treat that would have been. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have pictures of the two of you when you were young would you?” Sylus found himself asking, sliding up to Zayne’s side.

“Sylus, be serious.” Zayne barked, “This is serious.”

“And I am so serious.” Sylus replied, “I can run facial recognition on her younger face. If she was involved with Ever, I’ll find it.”

“And me?” Rafayel said, hiding his eagerness, “Send me one too.”

Zayne huffed, “Should I print out wallet copies for you three? You’re being ridiculous.”

Xavier hummed and pinched at his chin in thought, “I don’t carry a wallet.”

Sylus chuckled and shook his head. Turning back to the screen, he sighed, “Whoever is behind it made a mistake. They clearly are surveilling her by how quickly they showed up when she left, which means she can’t leave without one of us with her— for the time being. And I’ve got their scent. The next time they show up, we’ll be prepared.”

Zayne pulled out his phone and began to tap at it with his thumb, “Here,” He said after a moment, “A picture from when we were younger. I’ll send it to you three.”

“You had it in your phone?” Rafayel teased, coming over to look over his shoulder. 

“My parents sent me a copy when I told them I’d reunited with her recently.” Zayne defended as his ears turned red.

The photo was of two children in front of a street carnival. A Ferris wheel and lines of food stalls and games behind them. They stood in front of a wood cutout of some animal mascot, the two tiny in comparison. 

Zayne smiled at the camera politely, probably the way his parents had shown him too. And he kept his chin up with a tight posture. His clothes were formal but his shoes were muddy, and his right hand was clasped tightly with yours. 

You were striking a pose. Free arm up in the air with and a brilliant smile on your face. Exuberant and joyful as you leaned into Zayne’s side. Your hair was shorter and you had colorful clips near your ears. Your feet were muddy too, as well as the bottom hem of your summer dress. 

Their phones all chirped with the received photo and Sylus quickly saved it. 

Xavier aggressively tapped at the screen, scrolling through and mumbling under his breath, “I need to get a wallet.”

“Just make it your wallpaper, weirdo,” Rafayel laughed as he grabbed Xavier’s phone and fixed it for him, “Here ya’ go, old man. See?”

“I am not old.” Xavier argued as he snatched back his phone, “This is primitive technology to me. It’s hard to work sometimes.”

“If I can do it, you can do it.” Rafayel said with a laugh, “I believe in you, old man.” 

“Guys,” Sylus barked, “I need to speak with Zayne, you mind?”

They continued to bicker as they left. Rafayel adding, “You should probably change it back before she sees. She’ll think you’re a stalker.”

“Wait, how do I change it back? Rafayel. Rafayel!”

The door closed behind them, leaving Sylus and Zayne alone.

“Was there something else?” Zayne asked, but was answered with a hand to his chest, pushing him back, back, back, until the backs of his legs hit the seat of chair and he fell into it. Zayne grunted as Sylus pushed him into the black leather seat, and with a firm hand on his jaw moved to place his knee between the doctor’s.

“How did your appointment go?” Sylus rumbled, watching with fascination as Zayne’s cheekbones and ears blushed raspberry red. “Doctor?”

Zayne was too stunned to speak for a moment. The position of Sylus curled above him making his brain stumble for words. Sylus’ knee slid forward, pressing into the apex of Zayne’s thighs, just enough pressure to make him hiss.

Through slightly gritted teeth, Zayne hissed, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Sylus felt like he’d been challenged. A taunt made by some adversary that provoked the fire in his belly. Zayne wanted to play dumb? He’d make sure he was too dumb to speak. 

“I don’t think I’ve thanked you properly,” Sylus cooed as he grabbed Zayne’s chin and forced his face upward, letting their faces get close enough to feel the temperature difference between them. Sylus ran hot, skin burning and fervid. While Zayne was always cool, simmering low like dry ice. “, for bringing our housekeeper to us.”

Sylus couldn’t help himself, and nipped his teeth at Zayne’s jaw. He could smell you on the doctor. The scent of sweat and spit and candy-sweet desire. Like toffee and spun sugar, it clung like an expensive cologne to the dark-haired man. To his neck. To his clothes. To his lips. 

Zayne panted under the attention, “You like her?”

Sylus rumbled with laughter, sounding more like a growl, “That’s a dumb question. Think, Zayne.”

Sylus nudged his knee a little harder and then backed off, and Zayne’s eyes grew a little hazy. The doctor’s hips slowly followed the rhythm, until he didn’t realize Sylus had stopped moving and the movement was all his own.

“Tell me,” Sylus hissed, dragging his teeth up towards Zayne’s ear, “Will you share?”

Zayne stuttered, his hips grinding softly against Sylus’ knee with timid thrusts. “W-What?”

Sylus moved his hand braced on the arm of the chair to grab the back of Zayne’s hair, forcing him to focus, “Tell me what happened. What happened at your appointment?”

Zayne groaned at his hair being pulled his hips moved of their own accord to press a little harder. Sylus smiled against Zayne’s cheek, waiting patiently for enough cognizance to return to the doctor for him to answer.

“S-She was well.” Zayne stuttered out, swallowing hard, “Vitals good. Scans showed no progression—“

Sylus yanked Zayne’s hair back harshly and moved his knee away, “You know that’s not what I mean.”

”Did you watch us? Did you hack into my phone again?” Zayne seethed, glaring at Sylus for a moment with a salacious heat. 

“No, I didn’t have to.” Sylus answered, easing his harshness with a soft press of his lips to the corner of Zayne’s mouth, “Now, tell me. Please.”

Sylus moved his knee back and loosened his hold on Zayne’s hair.

“She told me Xavier kissed her.” Zayne confessed airily as Sylus began to pepper him with kisses to reward him for speaking. “He kissed her on th-the jaw, and on the—ngh—neck.”

“And?” Sylus dragged his hand down Zayne’s side, caressing his chest and his abdomen before sliding lower to where the doctor was hard and aching. His hips twitched when Sylus’ fingers found the hem of his shirt, pulling it out of the tuck of his pants to slide across the silver of skin exposed. 

“I kissed her.” Zayne croaked, “I…I asked her and she let me. G-god, Sylus, she tasted like sugar.”

Sylus groaned as Zayne moved his hands from they’d be frozen at his sides to grab at Sylus’s waist and drag down. Fueled by the memory of you and the searing heat of the flesh in front of him. 

“M-more…” Sylus breathed. 

“She was so responsive.” Zayne was slowly turning the tide, slowly sapping control from the mercurial man above him. “She whined for me. Ah— Sylus, move.”

Sylus moved, and Zayne moved to stand, grabbing at the other man and kissing him properly. Sylus responded with teeth and tongue, animal and hungry. 

“Wh-what else?” Sylus hummed into Zayne’s lips as they moved across the room over to the bed.

“I couldn’t stop.” Zayne panted, hands slightly shaking as he moved to the buttons of Sylus’ shirt, “I had her in my office. The door unlocked and I couldn’t stop.

Sylus snarled and tore at his own shirt, moving quickly to Zayne’s and pushing the other man down onto the bed. Switching them back to the way they’d been before, “I saw the mark you left on her. That’s not fair.”

The breath was punched out of Zayne as Sylus slid his hand down into Zayne’s pants, grabbing ahold him and squeezing. Sliding up and down in the restricted room, but still sending Zayne’s mind into syrupy mush. 

“ F-Fuck, I had to. I had to.” Zayne panted, delirious, “I pushed her—ahh, please— h-her onto my desk. I would have— G-god I wouldn’t have stopped. And I-I don’t think she would have stopped me.”

Sylus leaned down to nip at Zayne’s neck, debating leaving a matching mark but deciding against it, “Is that all?”

“ Yes. Fuck, yes, that’s all.” Zayne was downright whining now, pushing down his pants so Sylus could grip him fully. Hand tight around his weeping cock and pumping him agonizingly slowly. 

“Such a good doctor,” Sylus praised, and he felt Zayne twitch in his hands, “So good for me, and for our girl.”

A bit of clarity came to Zayne’s hazy eyes, “She isn’t—“

“Oh? Is she not ours?” Sylus moved his hand up to draw painstakingly circles around the head of Zayne’s cock, the poor man choking on the overstimulation, “Tell me Zayne. Tell me who you belong to.”

Zayne was a bit more familiar with this talk, and quickly sank back into a rhythm as Sylus continued to stroke him, “Yours. Yours.” 

“That’s right.” Sylus hummed, drunk on Zayne’s obedience. He knew Zayne would return the favor in a moment, but this was his thank you to the doctor. A completely selfish show of gratitude for Zayne bringing you back to them. “And who am I?”

Zayne was growling through his teeth, teetering at the edge of orgasm, “M-M—ah— Mine.” 

Sylus lowered himself closer, letting his voice vibrate in Zayne’s ear, “And who is she?”

Zayne growls, gripping at Sylus’ shirt and continuing to pant like a dog. This feels like some sort of Pavlovian torture, or at the very least manipulative, but in his pleasure-drunk haze Zayne doesn’t care. All those years are carefully constructed walls made of etiquette and reason come crumbling down. Imagining you in this scenario. Soft hands holding his cock instead of Sylus’ large calloused one— or better yet, the both of you— makes something feral and dangerous in his gut tighten.

So he answers Sylus’ obvious taunt with what he wants to her. With what they both want to her. “Ours.” He snarls as he comes, “She’s ours.” 

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

Days passed and turned into a week, schedules became busy and you found yourself alone more often than not. You didn’t leave the house at all, and it didn’t interest you to do so.

The snow might be melting from the blizzard but it was still too cold for comfort. 

The boys had started texting you more, letting you know about their whereabouts and when they’d be home. You’re not sure when it happened, but it was nice. You no longer had to ponder if and when you’d see them anymore. 

It was interesting to see their texting patterns too.

Patrol is running long. Please don’t want to eat. From Xavier.

Xavier signed every message like between messages you might have lost his number somehow.

Gtg to a dumb meeting. 😩 Dnt miss me too much. ✨🐠

Rafayel used a weird combination of text lingo and regular speech. And emojis. So many emojis.

I’ve been called in to consult on a pediatric case. Please let the others know I will be delayed. Did you need me to pick anything up on my way home?

Zayne wrote formally. With punctuation and grammar and usually with some form of question at the end. Always with an inquiry about anything you might need or want.

I can hear you stomping around up there, kitten. 🐱 

Sylus used voice messages pretty often and his texts always felt vaguely like threats. 

You would enjoy the new level of your relationships if your phone would behave. For the past week it’s been acting up, screen turning off at random times. Apps crashing, closing or randomly opening. You’d sit it down and come back to some random photo open, or video playing.

It was getting frustrating as even typing out messages was getting glitchy. 

You were struggling to type a response to Zayne one late afternoon when you walked into the living room. The burnt golden light filling the space and casting long shadows across the floor. 

You almost didn’t notice him at first, but a blink and you saw Xavier passed out in the couch. He had his head propped up on the arm at an odd angle and his arm thrown over his eyes. 

He’d be comfortable if he just shifted down a bit, and despite the warm afternoon sun beaming in, he could use a blanket.

You tuck your buggy phone back into your pocket and retrieve a throw blanket. You set it down next to Xavier first, and reach out to gently place your hand on the back of his neck and the other on his shoulder.

He stirred, which you expected and you quickly whispered. “It’s okay. It’s just me, just slide down a little and you’ll be more comfortable.”

Xavier groaned softly and followed your ministrations, laying flatter and more comfortable across the long couch. You went to pick up the blanket but a hand on your arm stopped you,

With ease, Xavier pulled you down on top of him. You’re able to catch yourself slightly with a hand on the back of the couch. At the very least, you don’t collapse your entire body weight on him. But your brief resistance is met with firm arms snaking around your waist and rolling. You're effortlessly squished in between the couch and Xavier’s warm body– who clings to you like an oversized teddy bear. 

You’re holding your breath. Xavier’s eyes are still closed and his breathing is slow and even, though he inhales deeply and sighs content when he presses the sides of your faces together in a nuzzle. 

“Xavier,” You whisper, hoping to wake him enough to slide away. “Xavier, wake up.”

“No,” He whispers to you as his face contorts, “You go to sleep.”

“I can’t just take a nap, Xavier.” You argue breathlessly. 

Xavier hums sleepily and pulls his face away to brush your noses together, “Yes, you can. Please?”

He asks so sweetly, and his hold is surprisingly comfortable for how impromptu it was. So you sigh, and you watch his lips quirk in a victorious grin the moment you do.

You shift slightly to rest a bit more comfortably and he moves so you can use his arm as a pillow. Settling in, your body is two steps ahead of your mind it seems, as you can already feel yourself relaxing into sleep. 

“There’s a blanket on the floor,” You mumble as you move to rest your palm against the soft fabric of his hoodie, just over his heart. 

Xavier rolls over just enough to grab the blanket from the floor and with hooded eyes he adjusts it to cover both of you. Once satisfied, he sinks back into you. Pushing you back up against the back of the couch and into the plush of it. Practically laying on top of you. The pressure of it is a bit overwhelming at first, but after a moment he’s like a weighted blanket. 

You feel his breathing even out, and his chin droops a bit as he immediately falls back asleep. You’re not quite as quick to fall, but you’re not far behind. Taking the few moments of lucidity left to admire the blond of his lashes, and the pink of his lips. 

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

“What do you mean, no?” You blurt out in disbelief. You were already wearing your coat and had your phone in your hand, ready to call a taxi when you’d run into Sylus. 

“I mean no.” Sylus repeats, “Did Xavier snore too loud in your ear, sweetie? Should I repeat it again?”

You huff and cross your arms, “No, I heard you the first time. I’m just wondering who the hell you are to tell me I can’t leave? I need to get my bike and some more clothes from storage. I’m tired of living out of a suitcase.”

Sylus raised a brow, looking far too canine and amused for your liking, “You said you were going out. I said no, not that you couldn’t go, but simply to wait for me. Were you going to call a ride? Why? Don’t be shy when using us, sweetheart. Just ask. I’ll take you.”

Your heart does a little flutter at his words, spoken so nonchalantly that you’re sure it must be a taunt, but he’s already moving. Grabbing keys and a jacket from the hook and adjusting the collar. 

“I–uh…” You mumble out, “I left my bike in a parking garage over at the central mall. I couldn’t afford to store it, and then my storage unit is over by my old place.”

“What kind of bike is it?” Sylus asks as he adjusts his gloves, “Are we talking little wicker basket and a bell? Or a motorbike?”

You frown, “It's a motorbike.”

“Good,” Sylus says with a nod. “We’ll take my bike then, we can race on the way home.”

He leaves no room for argument as he walks over to you, placing a hand at your back to lead you over to the elevator and down to the garage below. 

It hadn’t been your plan today to go on some impromptu joyride with Sylus, but changing plans seemed to be becoming the norm. Nothing you thought would happen was happening, and lots of surprises added on. 

When you climb on the back of Sylus’ bike, he does the same as he did before. Shifting you up and close as possible to his back. You’re less flustered by it this time, and scoot your hips forward and wrap your arms around his torso, squeezing him tight enough he nearly wheezes. 

You show him the location of your bike first, and he takes off with the same breakneck, ticket-worthy speed. 

The air is icy but fills your lungs like a cold wake-up call. Swerving around corners and weaving through traffic like you’d done before, and this time you really let yourself enjoy it. Leaning into his movements and following his lead. 

You arrive at the parking garage and you’re ecstatic to see your bike unscathed. You jump for joy and spend a few moments apologizing to the poor neglected machinery. Sylus watches you with amusement from just a few feet away, and once you're helmeted and ready, you show him the address of the storage unit. 

His bike is aggressively loud, and clearly some custom model. It’s definitely heavier than yours with an engine to outrank your own in an open course. 

But this isn’t an open course, and pure power alone won’t win him this race. 

Anticipation rises in you like the swelling of a tide. The fuel for a fire being stoke and stoked higher with more and more fuel as you slowly go down the floors of the parking garage and out onto the street. 

The two of you pause for a moment before pulling out onto the busy road, and you shoot Sylus a look– shaded by the visor of your helmet but you see him sit up a bit straighter. Fool! The moment of distraction is what you take advantage of, as you kick the bike into moving and take off. You shoot down the road with more speed than you should, but it sends a thrill through your blood. Heart pounding with both the thrill of the ride and the chase. 

You see Sylus behind you, gaining up as he darts around cars. 

It’s a dance. Like the death-drop eagles do, with their claws clutched together and careening into a spiral, only letting go at the very last minute. Sylus follows you, coming up beside you and you playfully let him pass. Playing chicken with one another on who would go first. 

By the time you make it to the storage unit, you’re breathless. And a winner. You beat him to the parking lot by less than twenty seconds, but a win is a win, and you remove your helmet with a victorious grin. 

Sylus pulls up beside you, standing and removing his helmet to smile down at you. “You’re grinning like you won something, kitten.”

“I did, didn’t I?” You snark back, “I beat you here.”

“Only the first leg of the race,” Sylus counters, adjusting his jacket and stepping into your space. “If you beat me home, only then can you consider yourself a winner.”

You scoff out a laugh, “Oh yeah? And if I win? What’s the prize? Maybe you should clean the house for a week.”

“If that’s what you want.” Sylus answers too easily. “And if I win? What do I get?”

“I already cook your meals and clean up after you, what more do you want?” Your mind supplies a dozen or so embarrassing and ludicrous things a man like Sylus might suggest.

“Hm,” Sylus hums and pretends to look up in thought, “I’ll decide when I win, I think.”

You sigh and shake your head, “Fine by me. I have no intention of losing.”

“Of course not, sweetie.”

The two of you enter the store facility. A vast indoor complex with varying sized units. You’d had it from before this whole mess, keeping sentimental items and keepsakes mostly, but now it was nearly filled to the brim with furniture and haphazardly filled boxes. 

“My clothes should be in some blue tubs.” You explain as you unlock the padlock with the six digit code, Sylus kneels down before you can and hauls the rolling door upward. “If you can find them, I’d appreciate it.”

Sylus just nods and begins to peer inside the unit. You slide through the narrow space between stacks, too small for his broad shoulders to fit. 

“This is hardly organized.” Sylus remarks from outside the unit. “I expected better from our housekeeper.”

“I had to fill it in a hurry,” You argue as you move aside a box of barely wrapped glasses and plates. “Landlord gave me three days to get out.”

“Did he?” Sylus muses, “Where did you live before? Around here?”

You kneel down to examine a blue tub, opening it to see tanktops and cut-off shorts Summer wardrobe. No good. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to do something bad if I tell you?”

“Likely because I will.” Sylus says chuckling, “No one will die, if that makes it better.”

“It really doesn’t.” You call from the very back. You find another blue bin and peer inside to find long pants and jeans. Winner. 

You haul it up and over the stacks sliding it precariously over the chaos, “Can you reach this?”

Sylus’ long arm reaches in and pulls the tub out. “Is this is?”

“There should be one more.” You turn and notice one of the cardboard boxes with writing on the side. Photographs from Gran.

You freeze for a moment before moving over to it, deciding to hurt yourself for fun and look inside. The tape peels fairly easily off of it, and you open it. The stacks of old photos frams that Gran had given you when you’d first gotten an apartment are still there, dusty and outdated. You’d always intended to scan them, and put the photos into digital photos frames, but you never got around to it. 

You pick up one of the frames and startle to find it empty. Nothing but the cardboard backing staring back at you. You pull out another and its the same. Frame after frame after frame without the familiar photos. Nothing but worn wood and dusty glass.

You stand, hands clammy. What the hell? Where did they go? You were sure you hadn’t touched them. You’d beaten yourself up about not touching them enough lately to know you hadn’t. So where the hell did they go?

You turn on your heel in the little space in the back of your unit and pull out your phone, turning on the flashlight to see better. 

It’s not obvious. Not at first. The boxes had been thrown in here with no organization in mind, and so chaos looked like chaos. But something was wrong. You spy another blue bin, but settled underneath two boxes labeled Caleb Keepsakes, and Keepsake Toys. 

Even in the chaos of throwing things in here, you’d been careful not to cover up your clothes. You’d but the blue bins on top. Now, something from your apartment like decor or kitchen items coveirng up a bin wouldn’t be that hard to believe, but this?

How on earth did your keepsakes, which had been in here for years, get on top of the blue bin?

“Hey Sylus?” You call, as you walk over and move the boxes on top of the last bin.

Something in your tone must have alerted him, as he’s peering over the boxes again, pressing his arm into the alleyway you’d slid through and answer, “What is it?”

You haul the blue bin up and he takes it, “I think someone was in here.”

You’re barely within arms reach before Sylus is grabbing you, pulling you out of the maze of boxes and back to his side. You squeak a little and nearly stumble, but Sylus is holding you, glaring at the storage unit like it’d offended him.

“How do you know?” He asks, voice tight.

“Boxes where they aren’t supposed to be, and my pictures are gone.” You say grimly. A one-time stalker is one thing, but this is a violation. Your history is in this unit. Remnants of your life that someone could piece together to know practically everything about you. The idea that someone had touched things you couldn’t even bear to think about made you feel sick.

Sylus hummed, but it edged into a growl. He pulled the cord overhead to turn the light back off, and turned to you. His hands on your waist and sliding around. You lift your arms slightly, shivering at the heat from his palms and go to interrogate him. However, when his fingers find the holster with your gun, he smiles.

“Good. Just making sure.” He drawls, and lets go. He picks up the bins “I’ll take a box, and you can take the other.”

Sylus walks out of the unit like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t mentioned that someone had broken in, and made an effort to hide it. He silently helps you strap the bins to the back of your bikes, a handicap for your upcoming race, but at least it’s equal. 

“Sylus,” You say, and you can hear the worry in your tone. You hadn’t been that shaken when that man followed you, but this had rattled you.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Sylus purrs as he brushes some hair away from your face, “I’ll take care of it.”

“You – will?” Your question is interrupted by him sliding your helmet over your head.

“Some creep peeking into your stuff is hardly a threat.” Sylus assures, “Worry more about what I might ask for when I win. Kitten.”

The taunt kicks you back into a competitive frenzy and you jump onto your bike with no intention to lose. Sylus cracks his knuckles and rolls his shoulders as he starts up his bike, the growl of it rumbling in your chest like the feral bellow of a dragon. 

Your race home is marginally less aggressive with the bins attached to you, but no less intense. When Sylus is in front of you, he watches you more than the road in front of you, and makes sure to give you no room to get around him. 

The bastard has lingers close the entire time. The two of you circling each other like beasts in a cage, but in the final stretch he picks up the pace. Searing through the streets like he had something to lose, and you struggle to keep up.  

He’s off his bike, leaning against it with his helmet at his hip when you pull up in front of the house.. He’s grinning and showing too much canine, and you fume a bit. 

“That’s not fair!” You argue as you swing your leg over and get off the bike.You yank your helmet off and sit it on the seat, “You have some suped up monster bike! Not fair!”

“Oh it’s funny you mention that,” Sylus teases with a villainous smirk, “That’s exactly what I was going to say.”

“What? What are you talking about?” You scoff, “I’m not the one who–”

“Let’s get these inside.” Sylus interrupts, and he grabs both bins. “Go put your bike away, I’ll meet you inside.”

The initial heat your loss tempers and you go back to your bike. As you drive around to the garage and put your bike in the spot you usually saw Sylus’, you contemplate what he might ask for. Or maybe he’s forgotten about that? Maybe he’s too preoccupied with your stalker to remember you owe him. 

You head back up to the main living area and grab a drink. Speaking of your stalker….this is so weird. 

You’ve been holed up for months since the explosion. Losing your family had made you anti-social at best, and downright misanthropic at worst. If your stalker was the classic kind, and had some kind of obsessive infatuation with you, breaking into your storage unit would make sense. They could steal your photos and other mementos to feed their delusion.

But the Hunter in you warned of more nefarious things. There was the little issue of Ever. The black market and its various gangs and organizations– many of which wanted you dead for interfering with their business in the past. 

If someone wanted you dead, why go to such lengths? You pondered as you stared off into space in the kitchen. There were likely dozens of opportunities to off you. One good hitman with a half-decent silencer entering your apartment these past months could have done it. This was too complicated just to want you dead. 

“I can almost hear your mind working, kitten.” Sylus purred in your ear, suddenly behind you. 

You jump and stumble away, whirling on his with a glare, “Don’t scare me like that! I’m just thinking!”

“What about?” Sylus inquires as he cocks his head to the side, “About what I might demand as my prize?”

You huff, “No, actually. Thinking about who could’ve broken into my unit. It doesn’t feel right to me.”

Sylus hummed, “If it makes you feel better, I’m already working on it.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, the venom in you gaze easing.

“I’ve been trying to track down the man following you since the day it happened.” Sylus explained with a casual movement of his hand, like it was no big deal, “This development is fortunate, as now I have more to go off of. I’ve sent some associates to search the places. Find anything that might lead us to whoever thought it a good idea to follow you.”

“Associates?” You blurt, “They’re going through my things?”

Sylus chuckles at your scandalized expression, “Don’t worry, sweetie. They’re discreet. They’ll only tell me relevant things they find. Why? Are you hiding something?”

“I’m not hiding anything.” You hiss, “Forgive me if I’m not super excited about the idea of random guys basically rooting through my life.”

“Would you feel better if I did it myself?” Sylus asked, mirth in his tone but somehow you know he’s serious. If you ask him, he’d do it himself. 

“No.” You answer, the image of him finding something embarrassing worse than some faceless goons. 

“Good, which reminds me,” Sylus slides forward, “I think I’d like my prize now.”

You stiffen and your hands get a little clammy, “Oh, that? Ha, are we really doing that?”

“I have a funny feeling you’d demand your prize if you’d won, kitten.” Sylus hums, leaning over you from his ridiculous height. “I’ve been thinking about what I want.”

“A-and, what is that?” You’re stuttering now, feeling too much like a raw piece of meat in front of a slavering beast. His teeth are too sharp, his eyes too hungry. 

“I want…” He drawls, letting his voice drift off. You’re suddenly struck by a sense of familiarity, and fully expect him to demand a kiss. Just as Xavier did. 

You look up at him and debate the idea. Sylus is a scary-looking guy, but scary in the way a rottweiler is scary. Given the right mood, he could be puppy-faced and adorable. Kissing him might be nice, though your mind worried it might not be allowed. 

Overthinking again, you worry that maybe you shouldn’t be so free with your affection. Everytime you kick yourself for giving in, for not being more resistant to them, but every time any of them is close it's like instinct. Like the draw of the moon and the stars to your helpless mind, and you give in. Something deep within you relishing in every little contact, and it feels like a relief. Like everytime any of them was near, it soothed some decade old wound you didn’t even realize you had.

Sylus semed to pause, watching your expression and his features softened. The serrated edge of desire in his gaze giving way to something altogether gentler.

“Your day off.” Sylus finishes.

You blink, “Huh?”

“Your next day off. I want it.” Sylus says again, “Spend it with me, whatever I want. I get you from eight am till…when do you usually stop working?”

“Uh…depends, like…seven?”

“Until seven then.” Sylus affirms with a nod. “When is it?”

“Sundays.” You’re more than a little confused, at his seemingly benign request. “So a week from today.”

“Good. I’ll remember.” Sylus reaches up to brush at your hairline, “Don’t forget, alright kitten?”

You hear the sound of Sylus’ footsteps as he walks away and you're dumbfounded. You nod to nothing and silently mark it down in your mind. Next Sunday, you guess, you belong to Sylus. 

<- Previous Next ->

[riggedbones]

OKOKOK FOR THE SPRITE REQUEST THING. you can do as little or as many of these as you want but the king candy design ones are FUCKING ADORBS like they’re all so precious but you did do well at translating him into pixel details???

couple of poses i LOVE of his that i pulled from my photos (you can do the second one as either kc or turbo).I Love Him. also i’d love to see a king candy version of the classic turbotastic pose too i thinkit would be cute

also i’d love to see if you’ve tried to do his cybug form 0_0 that would be INSANE

ALSO BTW IF YOUVE EVER DONE MORE THAN THE MOST RECENT ONE EVER PLZZZ let me know cuz i scrolled the blog a bit and idk but i would love to see any and all work/art you’ve done of him

OK i hope this isn’t too much SORRY IM SO RAMBLY 🫡

first two screenshots!! didn't do the last one because rotating the face is by far The hardest thing to do with these and there's a fair bit of foreshortening so honestly... unfortunately, may not be worth it.

here are some turbo-tastic poses though! there are three in the little cutscene we get so i did all of them, ended up being easy enough to edit. they're a fair bit different from the have some candy pose i did earlier, as i figured that for this request i might as well try to get it as classic as possible

cy-bug form is a challenge i might undertake on my own time ;) but definitely not something that falls under the scope of what i've been doing with these requests.

when it comes to sprites i've done so far, i can compile all the posts here:

1 2 3 4 5

and while in general my blog is pretty unorganized, i want to keep my wreck it ralph stuff on my main, and since it's my current hyperfix, my #lucky doodles tag is pretty reliable for finding sprites i've done before!

[bunnies-and-blues]

Hello gorgeous, I hope life has been treating you well! Can I request mitsui, miyagi, sendo, and maki with a reader who likes to draw and often goes to their practice to draw them? If not or it’s too many that ok! Thank you for your consideration!🫶

─꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱─ slam dunk : my muse ! ☆

⸝⸝ tl;dr : sd boys with their artist partner ! involves hisashi mitsui + ryota miyagi, akira sendoh, and shinichi maki !

⸝⸝ note : i took a bit of liberty and made the reader their partner, i hope that's okay ! idm making a seperate post wherein reader is their friend / admirer if ever :DD

hisashi mitsui + ryota miyagi . . . seperately !

the moment you and mitsui/miyagi became a thing he just became the cockiest person in the world . like, genuinely . it was really cute and endearing at first but eventually everyone's just pissed at him t-t

even more so when he's at practice ... all of a sudden he's extra energetic and his form is beyond perfect (not that akagi's complaining; if you get them to play well then that's all for the better)

he knows that you like to draw —its even one of the reason why he likes you so much ! — and the moment he found out that you drew him during his practices ... oh my god, ego to the roof !! /pos

mitsui flashes you a devilish grin, his eyes gazing upon the quick sketches you've made of his form. "i look great," he states. he winks as he walks back towards the ring, aiming for a three-pointer. "make sure to get my good side, yeah?"

look, mitsui's all cocky and arrogant when he's in front of the others (much to their chagrin), but in private — that's a whole different story . he's consistently sending kogure and akagi photos of your art, pretty much showing them off !!

and he makes sure to thank you for all of your efforts ; he'll buy you all the art supplies you want ! (and he'll try to draw you as well, but he's not the best at it ... )

miyagi is speechless when you show him your sketchbook. across the pages are drawings of him, each pose dynamic and vivacious. he could practically feel the energy radiating from your sketches. "this is amazing," he murmurs, heart-eyed. he looks up at you. "you're amazing."

much like mitsui, he'll show your art off — but he'll show it off to everyone. the basketball team, ayako, his classmates, his family- you name it !

what can i say ? he loves you !

akira sendoh . . .

"woahh!" sendoh exclaims, his eyes alight with glee when you show him your sketchbook. he takes it in his hands, holding it as if it was the most precious thing to exist. he traces the outline of his sketched-out form with a delicate finger, his grin spreading ear-to-ear. he looks at you with crinkled eyes, his smile as bright and warm as summer sun. "these are really good ! maybe you should teach me how to draw !"

sendoh is all smiles when he saw your drawings of him . he can't help it ! believe it or not, he's seen fanart of himself alongside the countless fanmail he's received, but never before has he had someone draw him so ..

he can't describe it, really . but all he knows is that it's the best art he's ever seen ! your art was warm, each pencil stroke filled with love and care, your affection for him reflected tenderly in the careful way you drew his features.

like with mitsui and miyagi, he'll gladly show off your art to the basketball team ! and before you know it, you'll have a line of the team members asking for you to draw them as well .

shinichi maki . . .

maki stares at the compilation of sketches in his hand. admittedly, he had felt a bit downhearted when he saw that you've been drawing during their practices, feeling as if you haven't been paying him attention, but he couldn't have been more wrong. he caresses the paper with a gentle hand, then pulls you in for an embrace. "thank you, my darling," he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "these are wonderful."

a gentleman through and through, maki makes sure to show his affections after receiving such a gift (even if you didn't mean it to be a gift in the first place) .

he starts giving back, taking you out on art dates and offering to buy you any art supply you want . even if you ask for just a simple pencil, he'll ensure that you get only the best quality !

unlike the other three, he'd want to keep your art of him for his eyes only . not that he's not proud of it or anything, but he just prefers for your art of him to be seen by only him ... not that it works (kiyota would find a way to snatch them from him when he's not working lmao)

[artisiumstudios]

So I saw a compilation of posts about Stan and his obsession with money and I'd like to hear your opinion:

"Sailing away in the Stan'o'war for Stan was about still being with his brother and getting out from the place that mistreated them but also about finding a treasure and becoming rich. It was pretty much both for him. Stan was looking for everything wrapped in one, but life got in the way. He was hung up on wealth through getting rich from treasure hunting. He did try treasure hunting without Ford, which makes me think that he did take it literally to an extent.

The treasure-hunting thing was serious enough for Stan to double down on it because he legit thought he could easily get rich from it regardless of how he went about it, with or without Ford. He went into it not understanding how rare gold was or how to find any treasure past metal detecting. When he realized he couldn't literally treasure hunt as easily as he thought, he abandoned his metal detector and turned to sales, making more money with shoddy products. It wouldn't make much sense for him to even try treasure hunting if he didn't really think he could get the millions Filbrick kicked him out over. He only abandons treasure hunting when he learns that he doesn't know what he's doing, doesn't get instant satisfaction, and that it's not viable for his purpose. That doesn't mean he didn't take it seriously; he's seriously looking for money.

Let's not kid ourselves here, it does equate to obsession with riches in Stan's case. We're not talking about someone wholesome who goes, "My treasure is the time I spend with my family." No, his obsession with money is as blatant as Ford's obsession with the weird and unknown. He grew up in a pawn shop, of all places, with a man who spoke money and a woman who gave overpriced predictions over the phone, where treasures constantly come and go like a revolving door, so that probably didn't help his treasure-hunting ideology. He saw treasures firsthand pass through his father's hands. That didn't just come from fantasy books.

The nature of a pawn shop is to buy valuable items at lower prices than a jeweler or collector for quick cash on the customer's part and sell for higher on the broker's part, often quickly. Or offer loans while holding a high-value item as collateral. This is how the Pines family have gotten any sort of wealth. Pawn shops are a literal revolving door of buyers and sellers of valuable items and can deal in a myriad of items, ranging from jewelry, historical items, fine art, firearms, vehicles, rare treasures, collectibles, etc.

Stan is an amalgamation of both parents if you think about it. His mother was a phone psychic who may or may not have been a swindler, while his father was after wealth with his pawnshop. Cutting corners and coasting on others to wealth was probably not the best lesson he could come away with those two. Treasure hunting would be a combination of their parents. Caryn deals with the supernatural and the excitement of the unknown with her psychic and tarot readings, while Filbrick is the more rigid, down-to-earth practicality, but it does not align with either's actual goals. Ford was spared this as his focus was elsewhere due to a rare condition impacting his social life that was hard to ignore. I'm honestly surprised Ford didn't come out of that house obsessed with money as well.

The more I analyze Stan and his upbringing, the more I see how his obsession didn't start after the ultimatum. After all, obsessions do tend to manifest as fantasies, dreams, thoughts, and urges, which is why I believe this started earlier than his teens. I mean, it would make sense as he and Ford had that whole "Kings of New Jersey" thing going on and Ford bringing up Meso-American gold, of all things, to find within the cave. It may not have been as strong, but it could have been present due to watching all the stuff that passed through the pawn shop at such a young age. Gold, diamonds, precious and semi-precious gems, etc.

If it weren't for the fact he grew up around people like Caryn and Filbrick, I probably would think the obsession started later rather than sooner. He didn't exactly need the ultimatum to become obsessed with being rich. That was just something that was thrown at him as part of his banishment from the house. Stan's obsession isn't a passing occurrence but a long-term one since he still has it well into adulthood. Considering he didn't take any other path to get a lot of money right out of the gate, it tells me this has been something he's been focused on for a while, and the ultimatum just kicked it into high gear out of necessity. It meant he no longer had the luxury to think or daydream about it until he and Ford were ready to move. He was forced to act on it with zero warning.

As he learned about how the world around him actually worked and his original plan was nothing but a hard-to-achieve dream, he turned to more reasonable ways to state that obsession. Well, "reasonable" in the beginning, at least. He did get into some pretty deep stuff that gave him quite an extensive criminal history... He's got a chip on his shoulder, and no normal job will be enough to do what he needs to mend his pride and make people eat their words. He's the type of character who looks at something and wonders if he can make a buck or more off it or how he can monetize it."

What do you think?

Alright get ready for my to break down EVERYTHING!

I feel like definitely sailing away for Stan was a way to run away from his home/school life. Looking at his childhood, the way his parents, peers, and teachers treat him, Stanley didn't exactly have the most pleasant childhood. For both Stan twins, they were each others only friend and safe place growing up. So escaping with his best friend was definitely the biggest reason for him to escape (Not to mention the head canon of Audhd Stan which maybe that would explain why he took the idea of living off treasure and adventure quite literally. Not to mention that perhaps he found marine life rather interesting, and well sailing overall)

Again it could fit into the Audhd head canon due to the fact that a lot neurodivergent people tend to react that way, if they're not instantly good at something they can sometimes just drop it and move onto the next thing. Let's also bring back Stan's statement of "I don't you, I don't need anyone!". Perhaps the fact that what he decided to pursue treasure hunting first wasn't because of the obsession itself, but rather that it was something that he had planned to do with Ford. In other words, he most likely believed that it was a skill he should've been good at in order for both him and his brother to survive off of, but the fact that he WASN'T good at it probably made him feel scared, ashamed, and maybe embarrassed given his last statement. It was probably a reality check that most definitely did not help Stan's self esteem.

Growing up in a pawn shop and with a "fake" (?) psychic that overcharged probably did spark an interest, and created a pathway for him to observe how to charm people for a bit of extra cash or a way to just know and understand how people work, HOWEVER I doubt that was the reason for his interest. I think rather than interest or obsession at first it was means to success, the fruits of their work in way. (Not to mention that this takes place during an era of war, where people are recovering from WW2, the great depression, the Vietnam war, Dust Bowls, etc. It was a time where the economy was recovering, where PEOPLE were recovering from the impacts. For the Pines, who I would like to point out were also Jews, it was a means to survival, to get every last penny they would just incase another tragedy striked and they could be prepared. They didn't have luxury items and weren't big spenders, their house was their place of work and if we really analyze Stan's behavior, we see the need for survival in money terms be represented through the fact that he SOMEHOW kept his car working and cared of for 40+ years even when he did have the money to get a new one, the way ten years later he still carried that duffle bag that sealed his fate and even the way he took care of Ford's house and his stuff.)

The final nail in the coffin that turned the interest of riches into an obsession was the way Filbrick actually made their kids feel like they were only worth their potential monetary value. (Something shown early on their childhood, for example when Stan got a bad grade and was forced to stand outside with the sign for "Extra Stan 3$ or more" is already a big example of Filbrick tying his children's worth to how much money they can bring him. You could argue whether this was for his own greed or some sort of sick way to show he cares for children by trying to make them care for money a bit more.) Especially with the way he got mad at Stan not for breaking the project and hurting Ford, but rather for "costing the family potential millions," and ripping away "their ticket for getting out of this dump". That mixed with the idea that Stan would only be welcomed back if he ever managed to get his hands on Millions of dollars truly changed his mind set of money.

While yes his interest probably was created the moment he was born into the Pines family, a family full of swindlers getting their hands on any last bit of money, their need for survival, the idea of success, and even understanding that it would potentially help him and his brother when sailing; the obsession didn't start until he was given the ultimatum of either being obsessed with it or losing his family all together.

But apart from that I love the way your big brain thinks and I loved this analysis and im sorry i couldn't answer earlier. I shall go to work now but thank you for sharing this with me!

[wardingshout]

Since I didn't draw anything for like half of 2024 I did an updated colour wheel instead! featuring only the newest of stuff I could find that fit.

I have also compiled a dump of many thoughts I want out of my head, like a little text post dump I guess. the tldr I guess I will just make "thank you".

Putting the most important thing first here which is. Every single time I catch myself thinking "no I need to draw smth other than alttp" a couple of very specific tags and messages pop into my head and I get so fired up to draw more alttp !!! the power I feel from that!!!!!

IIIIII feel like there used to be a way to do linebreaks but I can't remember how so my new text bit divider is random crap I can find lying around in my files

Ok here goes me being dramatic about something that only matters to me but feels so very important to get out for the sake of others too. I guess the gist of it is that tumblr is a rly important place to me and I'm so endlessly grateful for people always being so nice. at the end of the day I don't think I really care about much else in life than drawing and getting to share it with others makes it a much less lonely experience for me. I mostly just for myself, but I'm so grateful for the extra joy associated with posting it online too.

I feel a bit bad I can never seem to give back the kind of nice energy you guys give me. despite how much joy this place brings me, I'm just a naturally anxious person and I often chicken out of doing things myself. I'm so endlessly happy that people still bear with me or at least stick around to look at my art.

thanks to people's kindness I often find myself breaking out of the anxiety and getting a lot closer to initiating stuff myself, but I always get run over by some kind of irl issue instead, usually mental, but recently also physical health. I had so much fun on here this summer especially and I was so certain that this was the time I would make it last only for irl stuff to yet again show up and knock me out completely. every time that happens I feel like I have to rebuild whatever social bravery I had aquired from the beginning again and at this rate I won't ever get anywhere.

after weeks of very few work days, I feel like I'm finally rebuilding the courage to post and the concentration to manage drawing at all. it's not a lot of progress but I can feel it growing. from tomorrow it's back to full time work with no other breaks in sight and I'm scared my groove will be cut short already... I like my job but I've acknowledged I just can't thrive with full time work. I can bear it fine though, but it doesn't leave energy for much else in life.

I think the point here is. I know it's just social media but I've had so many good experiences on here and they're really precious to me. I hope one day I can be well enough to be that kind of influence for others too. my activity with art and presence online has become surprisingly reflective of how well or bad I'm doing irl, so I never I never want to give up on become a more present person.

the most important thing is art though, so finding the courage to get back to posting even if it's all I do, makes me happy too. thank you so much to everyone else who posts are too. I'm endlessly excited about all the cool things I get to experience and see online, thank you!

it is absolutely absurd how many drafts I have of just very frustrated moments where literally all I type is "if I have to be sick one more time I will lose my absolute mind holy shit" and having just been sick again? really feeling that !!!! it's also like. frustrating to feel you're making progress mentally and then you constantly get knocked into bed by phsyical health instead like come on I'm finally learning how to get Out of that place... and then every time you get sick, routunes have to be rebuild all over after, it suuuuucks....

I finally got a PC which has been absolutely life saving, However. I am still drawing on tegaki only... I'm so excited I can get back to bigger works on csp but I've gotten so used to seeing only my tegaki stuff, I'm scared of how much I'll suddenly hate my art when I see it differently again... hating your own art is probably a feeling that will never disappear but even so. I think I'm at a pretty content place right now and I'm worried about shaking it up. I can't let something like that knock me down when I'm only finally getting back to drawing regularly again... I already copied over the palette for some comfort so hopefully I can find a brush that feels similar too! at least I'm super excited about getting to pick some more colours !

and a very belated tag game thing !! I completely lost the original post by now but it was from @lele5429 and I've had it in my drafts this whole time, so better late than never to fill it out!

Last song: Alt Hvad Jeg Vil by Von Quar

Fav colours: warm yellows or light oranges!

Last book: switching between Assassin's Quest and Our Wives Under The Sea!

Last movie: The Princess Bride I think?? it was long ago so I feel like I'm forgetting something else though...

Last tv show: my roomie and I binged Twin Peaks season 3 as well as most of True Detective over christmas break we went Ham

Sweet/spicy/savoury: sweet !!

Relationship status: not interested

Last thing I googled: "nosferatu rats"... I see.....

Current obsession: alttp auish shenanigans... this one has not changed since I first drafted my response to this... on one hand I feel like I'm just filling out the gaps between games, but on the other it's getting very close to full au stuff... I always wanted to draw comics but had no ideas and for the first time in my life I'm drowning in ideas and fully held back by fear and skills haha

Looking forward to: actually surprisingly nothing at all? I'm looking forward to whatever good times I can create for myself I guess. the last few things I was looking forward to didn't go so well, so maybe it's nice to have nothing but the most normal and boring daily life ahead haha

[maoist-adachirei]

haii i wanted 2 apologize for the spam notifs if you've been getting them LMAO. as someone who yumes w adachi rei i really appreciate your work ‼️‼️ thank u for compiling all this i looove this blog

no need to apologize, I don't mind them at all! makes me happy people enjoy seeing rei, and enjoy the selection of rei art I share here ^-^ she's very precious to me

I'm glad you find my blog enjoyable! have a nice day/night

[castieldelamancha]

Dean points at the book again and Castiel regrets the day he found the art book in a storage room so deeply. It apparently is a compilation of all the works of art that depict the supernatural.

"And this one?"

Castiel is profoundly in love with Dean, in ways that transcends his own understanding, like every particle of the universe that once made up his grace and now his very human soul, has found its mirror in Dean's own soul. Such a precious thing, magical and eternal.

It's the only reason why Castiel is finding and using every ounce of patience that his body contains in order not to kick both Dean and the book out of bed.

That and the way Dean's fingers have been combing, arranging and rearranging his hair. Castiel didn't use to have enough familiarity with physical contact and intimacy to even imagine having a list of favourite gestures.

Now he knows he likes holding hands, specially if Dean pulls their joined hands closer to kiss his knuckles. He loves how Dean kisses his forehead, just for the way he cradles his face with both hands to keep Castiel still. He already knew hugs were nice.

He never thought kisses could be as breathtaking as the ones he has share with Dean.

And, even if the first time it happened he didn't know how to react to the tender way Dean's fingers had first combed back his hair away from his forehead before fully burying in his hair, it rapidly became one of Cas' favourite things too.

There is something soothing in the almost absent-minded way Dean's fingers scratch at his temples.

"No, Dean, that cherub isn't me either. I have already told you I have never occupied a vessel like that, I wasn't even a cherub." Even though artists seem to have a fixation with that kind of imaginary.

"Aww."

"I think we should put the book back in the storage room," Dean looks at him, "it might be cursed or something." He wonders if such a thing as an annoyance spell even exists. Dean gives him an incredulous look that Cas guesses mean 'if it were cursed I would probably be dead by now.'

Fair enough.

"No way! I still have two hundred pages to go, you could still be here somewhere."

Castiel sighs and Dean kisses the tip of his nose. Another one of Cas' favourites.

"What about this one right here?"

[greencharisard]

Man I love these characters

*gives them trauma*

To be fair Lute is already going trough it canonically so don't blame me kfjfkdjfj.

Compiled together and colored some doodles I had lying around so I could post something, Heaven edition! Lute has slowly but steadily becoming one of my faves, what can I say I like me a woman that will actually just kill me.

Emily on the other hand is just precious and needs to be protected.

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.

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So naturally I had to draw a fallen AU kinda scenario djjvrjsfkdlf. Not canon to any of my HCs for now I just wanted to experiment.

The rest of the page is just Lute dealing with the aftermath of the failed extermination.

I imagine she'll be going trough it next season. Also some battle outfit speculations.

Hazbin Hotel by to Vivziepop

art by me, do not copy, trace, repost, reuse ecc without my permission please.