#I just Google phrases and attempt to draw them

[chattahoochiecoochie]

Language Barrier

Summary: Laura learns Finnish

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: oral sex   

Authors Notes: I don’t wanna hear a WORD about the spelling, the grammar, the conjugation. Nothing. Google translate, reddit, youtube, ya girl did her best but as an english speaker, Finnish is beyond my understanding so do with that information what you will. Y’all know the drill, everything else is here. 

“Hyva tytto.” He’s smirking at her, a glint in his eye. He’s been saying that a lot lately. Perhaps trying to give her enough to go on when she pulls out the pocket dictionary she’s tried so hard to hide from him. It’s a funny dance they do, around the dictionary. She pretends not to have it, and he pretends not to notice the falter in her step when he speaks to her in Finnish, ignoring the very obvious mental notes she takes to look up his words later.

She’s got the first part down. It was easy enough, the spelling making a fair bit of sense. The second word she’s struggled on for weeks, looking desperately for a word ending in an ‘a’. After a bit more eavesdropping, and a youtube video on vowels, she knows she’ll be looking for an ‘o’ later.

“Hyva tytto.” His mouth is on her ear, jaw slack as he whispers to her. Both still tipsy from a late trip to a local bar, they’ve been stumbling over each other since they got back to the hotel. He keeps repeating the phrase, his tone increasingly whiny as she strokes him through his jeans and bites at the skin just above his collar. More, he seems to say every time he hums beneath her hands.

Good girl. That’s what it means. The dictionary is in her lap, the spine thoroughly cracked as she presses it against her drawn knees. Running her finger over the page she reads it again. Good girl. For weeks. When she gets something right, when she gets something wrong and he thinks it’s funny. When she choked back a shot of soju in Japan without dribbling any on her chin (it took several attempts). When she put her foot down about him being difficult in a meeting, letting her tone draw out a warning clear as day. Good girl, he said. He says. Good girl, he says.

A butterfly seems to find its first wings in her stomach.

Laura lets the dictionary slip from her grasp.

“Mää haluan sua.” He taught it to her, on another drunken night. I want you. One of their very first, a cab ride home from a formal event. The words had sounded silky, even in his raspy voice. She says it now, holding him by the front of his shirt.

He whines, voice gravelly from the alcohol.

In a mess of limbs, they undo each other. His socks, her tights. Her skirt, his shirt. When her blouse is open in the front, and his belt undone, the bed seems to materialize around them, swallowing her frame as he presses her into the mattress.

“So pretty.” Kimi lulls, pressing his mouth to her bare chest. “So pretty, Laura.”

“You’re pretty.” The words sound slurred. She’s not drunk, not really, just buzzing slightly, but the room feels hazy around them. Kissing her breast, he grins at the compliment.

He feels hot over her, and through heavy eyes she watches patiently, wondering if she might catch his breath in the air when he whistles over her nipple. Dipping lower, his lips part, before disappearing from her view as he takes it between his teeth, tugging gently. Laura groans.

Lifting her hips, she drives her thigh between his, groaning again at the feeling of him on her thigh. Sucking on her, he pushes down, rubbing the tight spot of his boxers over her bare skin. A low hum is lost between them.

With agonizing care, she watches as he slips down her chest, hands dragging until he’s well between her legs. A slack jaw meets her center, arms hooked through her legs to hold her down as she writhes beneath him.

Licking lazily at her slit, his fingers work over the bud at her center, pressing and dragging across it until she whimpers for him. With every sound, he slows. Swiping his tongue across her entrance until she cries, and then hesitating until her hips bear down into the mattress again. It’s oblivion, satisfaction driven from her reach over and over again until her eyes are pricked with tears.

“More, Kimi.” She’s pleading, clutching at him as if it might bring release easier. “​​Haluta.” Please.

There’s urgency in her voice, akin to his own when he taught her the word. Laura can feel him smiling against her cunt, teeth bared as he holds himself steady.  “Haluta.” She says again.

Pausing over her clit, his head sinks until he’s sucking on her, fingers curling deeper and deeper. For a moment, she wishes she hadn’t begged at all, head splitting from the pressure rising in her chest.

This is the last time he’ll hide from her. Every word, every sound, she’ll catch. Every innuendo, every whisper, every turn of phrase that ‘just doesn’t translate’. She’ll learn it. She won’t tell. It can be a secret, a quiet waltz around the point, just like the dictionary. He can say it, in that soft rasp he reserved just for her, and she can pretend not to dwell on his tone, or the definition. But she’ll know.

And she’ll learn. Picking up the dictionary from where she’d dropped it, Laura turns it over in her hands, running a finger up the fore edge, lingering over where she’s already dogeared it. She will learn it.

“Please,” Arching her back, Laura reaches for his hair, winding her fingers through it as she holds his head down. “Ole hyva poika.”  

There’s a sound, a low groan that might have come from either of them–and then it’s there. A rush of adrenaline, and a tremble that travels up her spine as fluid pools beneath her. She feels raw suddenly, empty and overdrawn.

Through tears, she finds him stuck between her legs still, mouth wet, a hand over his boxers. He’s sat up slightly, on his knees in front of her, running his fingers over a stain he has made in his underwear. Laura groans again, whining at the sight of the mess.

“I don’t remember teaching you that.” His lip quirks, the hint of a smirk.

“Did you like it?” Hands outstretched, Laura pulls him closer.

“Say it again, and I’ll decide.”

“Give me a reason.”

“Hyva tytto.” In an instant, he is on her again.

A/N: This is the last time I experiment with format, sorry y’all. Not really. But sort of. 

[quinloki]

Idk why Marco and Jinbe specifically are my favorite. Tbh they both show up so late in the manga but I don't even remember who my favorites were before them. I just saw them and it was an immediate latching on, my brain just went YUP THEMS THE ONE. (At least for Jinbe, with Marco it didn't happen until Marineford.) But where do I even begin. I'm head over heels for those men. I would bear their children if they wanted (and I don't want kids so much that I got sterilized, but if I weren't and they were real and asked- yes, anything for you, absolutely.)

Marco is just. Ugh, so cool, the moment he transformed I knew it was over (I am weak for animal-shifter characters or chars with animal traits.) But beyond the coolest zoan fruit ever he's just so loyal and fun and sweet. I think about Marco frequently. I don't generally use this phrase because it's a bit after my time, but I could consider him a comfort character. When I cook I think of Sanji standing by encouraging me. When I do difficult mental health stuff or taking care of myself I think of Marco. I know he would care so much it hurt. I just feel it. If I need reassurance falling asleep, bam, I just picture him with me. And things are better because someone I think is amazing cares.

Currently have a Marco/Reader longfic planned. The Google doc for it is 18k words of just notes/scene ideas. It's the longest doc of all my planned longfics. Speaking of which, I really need to read Birds of a Feather.

As for Jinbe... he's so genuinely kind and honest. I love his laugh. I love how badass he is. I love knowing how strong he is but knowing he would be SO gentle. He's a pillar in the communities he's in. He knows when he's made mistakes and apologizes sincerely (i.e. Arlong). He's determined and headstrong in a good way. I love how he shows that pride can be a beautiful, just thing.

Also I love how god dang BIG he is and I love his pointy teeth and big mouth and cute round nose. I'm terrified of whale sharks IRL (the thought of being in the water with anything big scares me but especially things with huge mouths like whales, like, just a picture of a basking shark feeding gives me the creeps) but I know Jinbe would take me swimming and introduce me to one all gently and show me there's nothing to be afraid of even as I have a death grip on his hand.

Marco is not Jinbe big but he's still stupidly tall compared to me and that makes me kinda swoon. I love my big faves. I love how happy thinking about them makes me.

I need to finish plotting a Jinbe fic. Shameful I've never put out any solo works with wither fave in them. Idk why!!! Brain weird.

Thanks for listening to my rambles!!

(Also, speaking of poly stuff, Ace keeps creeping into the Marco fic wanting to be included and at this point I'm starting to cave in...)

\o/ I love everything about this. I had to read it twice because my "I just woke up for the day" brain wasn't picking it all up the first time.

I will, without shame, say, yes, you should read Birds of a Feather. I'm quite proud of how it's turning out and it might become my personal favorite at this rate.

I've noticed that it can actually be harder to write about your faves. I think there's a paralysis in there of wanting to get it PERFECT, because your feelings for them are so strong that anything less than PERFECT isn't good enough. But, we don't love them cause they're perfect, and thus perfection isn't a requirement - it's never a requirement, it's a trap, honestly.

Getting words and lines on paper is all that's needed. The intent will be there, the skill will follow, but the EFFORT, that's the important part. The effort to just type or draw or whatever. That attempt, that time, that result - no matter how it turns out, that's the important part. That's the love.

To try and fail is more a sign of appreciation and love than to stay still waiting perfection.

BUT I HAVE DIGRESSED A BIT.

If Ace wants to be included, I wouldn't stop him. /nod nod/. More than that though, when you start posting these, tag me, or DM me or send an ask with a link.

I look forward to reading them ^_^

[vellichorom]

Do you have any tips on drawing plus size characters like Twogami/imposter or the Narrator?

i care that we're assigning the narrator as plus sized in this house ❤️ ( i know you were probably just grabbing a recent example but i had to go for it )

JOKES ASIDE..... oh man. I am admittedly NOT the best with art advice beyond " know what i know, " BUT I'LL TRY MY BEST TO LEAD YOU IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION WITH WHAT I CAN RECOMMEND!

namely; TUTORIALS & REFERENCES ~ ! truly, i can’t recommend ANYTHING better ( & because i unfortunately don’t have the time to craft one Myself ), i bestow upon thee my favorite & personally used tutorials!

( X / X / X ) <-- links here

GENUINELY SPEAKING, the artists featured i think could offer more helpful advice than anything i could struggle to tell you, & it NEVER hurts to look up “ how to draw fat people “ on google OR, look up images of heavier people for the sake of studying!

the bare bones basics ( hehe ) of heavier folks & drawing them amount to “ wide & saggier & lumpier than the average twink, “ i think - but you’re definitely talking to someone who’s never been to art school before, so take that entire phrase with salt. REST ASSURED THOUGH, it gets easier with the more practice you commit to & the more times you attempt! it REALLY does.

I DO APOLOGIZE THERE’S NOT MUCH I CAN PERSONALLY RECOMMEND BUT...... tell you what, I’ll give you one PERSONAL tip that might work better if you’re a beginner!

draw a person &

break it up into shapes !!!! break it up like it’s your own personal barbie doll !!!!! i think doing this better helps the artist to study & perfect the dimensions & shapes of the human body, as well as giving them a better grasp on the structure of the anatomy & where things bend ( & where other things, like fat, are supposed to sit, later on! )

& this should work for ALL kinds of tutorials i think, break it down & analyze the body piece by piece! 

“ that’s cool & all, “ i know you’re saying to yourself, “ but stay on topic, twinkie! “ & to you I say YES INDEED - so check this shit out; so draw a guy,

this is a very SIMPLE method of getting into drawing thicker people, beginner’s choice you could say, & is essentially meant to act as a good base to start building from &-- if you’ve broken the body down into pieces already, you can perhaps start applying the soft fat around where you want it to be a little easier!

HOPEFULLY, with what ( little ) i’ve been able to advise, you can get a good grasp on drawing the heavier folks & have some fun with it!

[twotailednekomata]

Look at this emo, demon boy. He looks like he is ready for some trouble. ( •̀ᴗ•́ )و ̑̑

For real, though, he gave me sooo much trouble last night. I wanted to draw my demon designs again so I'd originally plan to draw a regular demon in this 'at a rock concert, partying' pose, quickly finding out that attempting to draw a human chin in an upright position was going to be a pain in the ass (although I did manage to figure it out).

Then I noticed that the proportions I'd made for the body did not match an adult male's so I pivoted to a teenage instead (also because I thought it would be easier for me to draw). After this point that I decided to make the character an emo kid and added a wolf theme to it (because early 2000s, the peak of emo fashion and those edgy wolf ocs. No, just me? Okay...).

Next, I had to outline the body sketch I made with a darker pencil since I realized that I would not be able to see the lines I would make for the clothes if I could not see where the body ends and the clothes begin.

Then I'd to look around for references for the clothes this boy needed to wear. Google was not giving me the references I wanted so I used Tumblr to find inspiration instead (I mean, I have an account, might as well use it.). After getting ⋆the vibes⋆, I still had to design a general outfit for him, which meant more searching. (/◡_◡)

When I finally got past the 'Build-a-Wardrobe' phrase and commence drawing him, the jacket decided to be a little troublesome, especially the fur on the right half of the torso. I had to use colour to indicate where the fur was so that it didn't blend into the rest of the outfit. I did, however, noticed that the shoulders were looking odd so I added some fur to them too. (Also, I drew the outline of the pants before deciding on an outfit so I had to design around that. Ripped pants are emo enough, right?)

Once I got past all of that, my pen decided to not work so outlining him was a real sore, especially at certain areas like the horns or fur.

The easiest parts of this drawing were the goat legs and the tail I added after I finished outlining the rest of the drawing, lol.

Anyways, overall I'm proud of him and below the read-more are the main references I'd used. Hope you enjoyed the rest of your day. (ﾐ꒡ᆽ꒡ﾐ)

Reblogs >>> Likes

(The concepts I drew for the main drawing)

https://www.mrporter.com/en-us/mens/product/celine-homme/clothing/leather-jackets/leather-jacket/560971903906151

(There's another reference for the jacket but it seems I can't find it)

This Tumblr post I'd found featuring a belt with a fanged mouth at the front (The demon is wearing it, just due to the size and limitations, I had to simplified it.)

Last, but not least, the jewelry. I mostly just came up with it from my imagination. I noticed that the emo photos I looked at feature at least one form of piecing and I saw an image that shows someone wearing two necklaces. Giving my character a choker, rings and a bracelet just made sense to me.

One bonus piece of reference before I go are these sketches for when I decided to take my first crack at demon design!

[honeypiehotchner]

Normal (Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader) -- oneshot

I know this is def not my normal content because y’all know I’m a huge Hotch girl, but sometimes I slip back into being a Reid girl. It’s hard not to! I see a lot of myself in him and it led me to write this, so enjoy this (very real, actually) glimpse inside my head in the form of a fluffy Reid story xx.

I listened to “Normal” by AJR a lot while I wrote this!

Summary: Spencer has recently returned to the BAU after a short period of leave, and he comes back to find you, an agent-in-training filling his Resident Genius shoes. He admires you for who you are. You think he hates you. He tries to convince you otherwise.

DR. SPENCER REID MASTERLIST

At first, you thought it was because of the way you read books.

You’ll never forget the first day you met the infamous Dr. Spencer Reid. He had returned from leave for his injured knee (he was shot, you were told) and this was apparently the second time he had attempted to step foot in the office. The first time didn’t go over well when Hotch found Spencer’s file that said his doctor did not clear him for work yet.

Regardless, you were sitting in your desk chair, legs crossed underneath you, “like a human pretzel,” Morgan always teases. You were reading a book, one of your favorites, to pass the time when Spencer walked in.

You knew it instantly because Morgan’s loud and affectionate, “Pretty. Boy!” could be heard all over the BAU.

You didn’t get up from your chair or stop reading -- besides the brief moment when you looked up to see what the commotion was about.

You still remember your internal monologue. Should I get up and hug him like Morgan? No, no, I don’t know him that well. I don’t want to hug anyone today, anyway. Shake his hand? You remember your hand tensing at the mere thought. Okay, not that either. I could wave, but I can’t tell if I even need to. I’ll just keep reading.

You had heard of Spencer before this. Hotch made it abundantly clear to you and the team that you were not replacing Spencer when you joined. You aren’t even officially a member of the BAU yet. You’re on a bit of a trial run, so to speak. That’s how Hotch explained it.

Yes, you were and still are well aware that the timing looks awful. An agent who is vital and loved in the BAU is shot and out of work right as a new, younger, and less experienced but surprisingly intelligent agent steps in for a “trial run” (which no one ever does).

To anyone else, it obviously looks like you were sent here to replace Dr. Reid under the disguise of a short “trial run.”

But that isn’t the case at all.

You thought Spencer didn’t like you because of the way you read books. You immerse yourself in them. You use a pencil to track what line you’re on, so nearly every page has a vertical, light gray line in the margin where the tip of your pencil lead barely grazed the page. You underline keywords and phrases. You draw arrows. You write commentary in the margins.

You thought that was what annoyed him until you saw him highlighting a book and writing in the margins, too. He doesn’t even necessarily need to, especially since he can read so damn fast and remember everything.

That’s also what you suspected -- that he didn’t like you because you could read almost as fast as him.

Keyword here: almost.

You can scan a page and spit the information back out in layman’s terms, sure. But you won’t remember what you read in great detail the next day, sometimes even the next hour -- especially when you were sort of filling the Resident Genius shoes and you’d have to read through stacks of evidence every hour.

You had thought your speed was just another thing Spencer didn’t like because it was just one more thing pointing to the conclusion that you were hired to replace him.

But he doesn’t care. You gladly let him read the evidence and memorize it, but you’ll help him out sometimes by scanning something first to see if it might have what he’s looking for. If it might, then he goes through and catches the fine details.

He’s never once acted as he hates you -- even though you’ve had “friends” who hated your guts and you had no idea (true story: high school is brutal and you were always shocked when your childhood best friend told you how “fake” others were acting toward you). But you’ve tried to look for specific signs, and he shows none of them.

You’re grasping at straws at this point. You’re on a profiling team and you had to Google how to tell if someone hates you. It’s pathetic, truly.

He doesn’t avoid you -- but he also is a really private person like you who likes his time alone.

He doesn’t drop a conversation with you after it’s been started -- but he also rambles so much anyway that you don’t know if he himself is capable of dropping a conversation abruptly.

He doesn’t avoid eye contact with you -- but even that one is tricky because you’re still working on it yourself, and you definitely have some days where you avoid eye contact. Sometimes you can hold it too well, though, and you always wonder if that’s rude.

Going through the rest of the signs that you found on Google goes exactly like that. He hasn’t done it, but then again… There’s always a catch.

It’s exhausting.

It’s a straight week of this before you finally cave and go to the one person you know you can always trust.

“Morgan, does Reid hate me?”

Derek stops stirring his coffee and tilts his head, furrowing his eyebrows at you. “What?” He goes back to stirring before tossing the stick in the trash. “Kiddo, why would he hate you?”

You misread this, too, and think Derek is confirming that Reid has hated you all along. “I don’t know. Why would he? What did I do?”

Morgan pauses, staring at you for a second before he realizes. “Ah, alright. It’s not clicking?”

You and Morgan have this phrase for when things completely fly over your head. “It’s not clicking?” is all he has to ask and all you have to do is nod, and he explains things to you.

So, you nod.

“Okay, listen, he does not hate you,” Morgan says. “I mean that. He’s been struggling to get settled after being out, but he doesn’t hate you. He’s far from hating you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just, trust me. He doesn’t hate you.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. You do trust Morgan, but somehow his words don’t ease your mind this time. “Should I talk to him about it? Or is that overstepping?” You pause. “I don’t wanna be annoying.”

“Kiddo, you’re never annoying,” Morgan smiles, raising his coffee at you. “I’m serious. And sure, if you think talking to him about it will help, go for it.”

“Okay… How do I ask him?”

Morgan shrugs. “Say you’ve felt like there’s been underlying tension and you want to clear the air.”

“Underlying tension and I want to clear the air. Got it,” you chant to yourself. “Thanks, Morgan!”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

Fast forward an hour or two and you finally have enough courage worked up to confront Spencer. The first hour was spent rehearsing what you plan to say and the second was spent rehearsing what you might be asked and what you can say. And finally, you were ready to walk around the set of cubicles to get to Spencer’s.

Spencer looks up when he sees you walking over and he raises his eyebrows. “Oh, Y/N, I just found this really good book about the strategies of--”

“I’ve felt like there’s been a lot of underlying tension between you and me and I wanna clear the air,” you blurt.

Spencer pauses, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Are you mad at me?” You try again.

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Do you hate me?”

“What? No!” Spencer sets his book down on his desk. “Of course I don’t hate you.”

“Oh...okay,” you nod slowly. “That’s...that’s all then.”

As you’re turning around to go back to your, Spencer stands. “Wait, Y/N.”

You raise your eyebrows in question. “Oh, right,” you chuckle nervously. “What book did you want to tell me about?”

“Oh,” Spencer looks down at his desk, then shakes his head. “I’ll tell you that later, I wanted to ask first if...if you wanted to get dinner later? There’s a reading downtown for this new poet and I thought you’d like to go.”

“Oh,” you nod. “Yes, I was actually already going, but yeah. We can get dinner.” You mentally rearrange things in your schedule as you speak.

“Okay,” he smiles softly. “Oh, the book. Here, you can--” He pauses and grabs a chair, rolling it over for you.

Derek watches from his desk as the two of you sit down and Reid starts rambling.

+++

You and Spencer leave straight from the BAU to get dinner before the reading.

One thing you’re grateful for that comes with spending time with Spencer is that you never have to worry about conversation. He carries it and if there’s ever a silence, he fills it. Or, like tonight, the two of you enjoy a mutual silence.

You opted for a table outside on the patio because the dinner rush was crowding the restaurant indoors, and it made the lights seem a little too bright. You could feel a headache coming on when Spencer asked if the two of you could sit outside.

It’s a little chilly outside, so you guys are alone, but you’re both always bundled up, so you aren’t cold. Spencer is always in some form of layers and a scarf, and you are, too. Minus the scarf, though, because some days it doesn’t feel right on your neck (and lately it doesn’t). But you’re always in a sweater and a cardigan.

Winter is your favorite season because of this. You can wear as many layers as you need and not suffer from a heatstroke.

After a quiet dinner (that you actually kind of needed, though you didn’t realize it at first), the two of you walk down the street to the small bookstore where the poetry reading is taking place.

“So, you said you were already coming,” Spencer begins.

“Hm?”

“To the poetry reading,” he clarifies.

“Oh, right,” you chuckle. ��Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he says, unfazed. “Do you read a lot of poetry?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’ve always loved it, I think. I write some, too, but I don’t know how good it is. Probably not very since I’m in the FBI.”

Spencer laughs softly. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Do you write poetry?” You ask.

He shakes his head. “Not often, but sometimes.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I like it. Not enough to do it for a living, of course. Actually, I almost got a Masters in Poetry a few years ago.”

“That’s crazy.”

“I can’t imagine being a poet,” he says, slowing his steps as you reach the bookstore. “But I guess that’s why I’m not one.”

You’re not sure what else to say, so you stay quiet while he opens the door for you, gesturing for you to go inside.

Bookstores are your forever safe haven. The quiet stacks, the mutual agreement between everyone inside not to speak to anyone else unless it’s dire. Not to mention, being surrounded by words.

Even events like these are small. Every event you’ve been to, you’ve been one of maybe twenty people attending. It’s your Heaven. It’s the kind of social interaction you’re somewhat good at.

Spencer is surprised when you willingly sit in the front. He would’ve expected you to sit at the back, in the middle row, even, but not the front center. He doesn’t question it, though. He just quietly sits next to you.

You pull the poet’s book out of your bag and it’s a well-worn copy. You flip through the pages and Spencer catches glimpses of underlined words, commentary, everything that lets him know this must be your favorite.

“Do you um…” Spencer pauses, waiting until you tilt your head, showing your attention. “Do you come to readings here often?”

“Every month,” you nod. “It’s a weird routine I’ve had ever since I moved here. I went to readings almost every week in college, and I didn’t want to stop.”

“I don’t come to a lot for poetry,” Spencer says. “Mostly novels -- and mostly conventions for academia-based writings.”

“Those have always scared me,” you chuckle, only half joking.

“Really? Why?”

“Oh, just the idea of hundreds of people crowded in a hall. That kind of thing just isn’t my speed.”

“You know, if it’s too scary to go alone, you’re welcome to come with me,” Spencer offers.

“Okay.”

“There’s one next Friday,” Spencer says. “If we’re not out on a case, we can go together, right after work.”

“Okay, yeah,” you smile. “What time?”

“It starts at 7, so we could leave work at 5:30 and get dinner beforehand.”

You mentally begin piecing next Friday together in your head and you nod, thankful for his mention of specific times. “That sounds good.”

Soon the chairs around you are filled and you recognize a few people who smile at you, so you smile back. Before long, the manager of the store is stepping up to introduce tonight’s poet, and Spencer watches you eagerly crack open their book.

+++

Somehow, spending time with Spencer has gotten worked into your routine.

You go with him to academic readings, and he comes with you to your poetry ones. The two of you have dinner together most nights because it’s your routine to eat right after work, and most of the time he’s already rambling about something to you when 5 o’clock hits and you begin packing up your stuff.

Tonight is no different, only this time when you’re walking next to Spencer to the bookstore for another poetry reading, he fills the silence.

“Can I tell you something?”

You pause, but nod anyway, wondering why Spencer is asking this time when he hasn’t before -- not that you can recall.

Spencer takes a deep breath. “I know you thought I hated you, and honestly when you told me that, I couldn’t believe it. Because I don’t hate you and I never have. I...I like you a lot, Y/N.”

“Oh,” you let out a breathy chuckle. “I like you too, Spencer. I’m glad you don’t hate me and thanks for saying it again. Sometimes I need the reminder.”

He chews on his lower lip as he listens to you, and it’s obvious you didn’t catch what he is really trying to say. “Y/N, I mean...I like you. I have feelings for you -- romantic feelings,” he clarifies, watching your face intently. 

You’ve never made the most facial expressions, but when you do, they can be exaggerated. Which is what happens now.

Your eyes widen and you make what looks like a grimace with your lower lip. “I’m sorry,” you say, scrunching your nose. “Have these…have these all been dates?”

Spencer shrugs. “Only if you want them to be. I just like spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you, too,” you smile softly. “You don’t hate me for not realizing, do you?”

“Of course not,” he laughs. “But I wanted to tell you because I like being honest with you and...if you feel the same, then...we can go from there, but if not, it’s okay. Like I said, I like spending time with you.”

“I do feel the same,” you blurt. “At least, I think I do. I don’t know. I might need to think, but I know I’m interested and...and I know I really like spending time with you.”

Spencer smiles. “Okay, uh...do you-- Can I hold your hand? Is that okay?”

You can’t help the smile that crawls onto your face in that moment, and you nod.

Spencer stretches out his hand and you take yours out of your pocket, hissing through your teeth for a moment at the cold air, but when Spencer’s fingers tangle with yours, you feel better.

Everything feels better when you’re with Spencer.

[jurassicsunsets]

sauropod emojis, as rated by a palaeontology student

apple:

not a bad start here overall! this is recognisably intended as a brachiosaurid, and the skull shape and overall profile are pretty good (though they look a bit juvenile-ish). points off, though, for the inaccurate hands - rather than elephantine columns, they were more shaped like lima beans in cross-section. yes, really. they also only had one claw per hand (it was on the thumb). also points off for having the external fleshy nostril located on the dome of the skull; while this is the position of the bony external nostril, there is evidence that the fleshy nostril was probably located at the tip of the snout. its dead eye haunts me

score: 7/10 solid attempt

google:

google clearly went for a cartoonier approach, and to my view it served them well. still recognisably a brachiosaur - the shape of the skull and overall proportions make it resemble Europasaurus, a type of dwarf sauropod that lived on an island in what is now eastern europe. which immediately ups its score in my book. however, it falls victim to the same issues with elephantine hands as did the apple one, and as such i can’t give it a perfect score.

score: 9/10 friendly!

microsoft:

this emoji cleverly avoids any scientific inaccuracies by being extremely cartoony. i like the use of single colours rather than gradients. a little too simple for my tastes though. i can’t tell what find of sauropod, if any, it was intended to be - a brachiosaur, because of the upright neck? a mamenchisaur, maybe? i have little to work with.

score: 6/10 just too vague

samsung:

i don’t like her at all. clearly a brachiosaur - sensing a common theme - but something about it is just unpleasant to me. the body seems too fat, the limbs too short, the tail too noodly, the head too pointy. also messes up the hands again.

score: 3/10. please leave.

whatsapp:

at last, an emoji that bucks the brachiosaur trend!! this is clearly not a brachiosaur. in fact, it looks like a possible Cetiosaurus-type deal. whatever it is, it’s charming. the nostrils are at the end of the snout as they should be and - is it? - can it be? - it is! the hands are anatomically correct! each clearly has one claw, located on the thumb, and though we can’t see well, they don’t appear to be elephantine. i love them a lot.

score: 10/10 only shooting stars break the mold - oh god im so sorry i shouldve phrased that differently--

twitter:

a classic. what it lacks in detail it makes up in simplicity. it has pleasant lines and an appealing silhouette. it’s extremely vague and not based off of any real genus, and the tail is far too short, but for some reason this doesn’t bother me too much. 

score: 8/10. exquisite

facebook:

hm. hmm. a lot of anatomical though was clearly put into this; overall the body form looks like a plausible sauropod. the proportions look a little weird, sure, but that seems to be perspective - after all, most sauropods were gigantic beings. beefy boys, if you will. its nostrils, upon close inspection, are correctly placed; however, its hands and feet are all messed up. i guess the real conundrum for me is that it seems to be a mish-mash of sauropods - remove the braciosaur-like domed skull, and it would be a great fit for an Apatosaurus. 

score: 8/10 i’m conflicted

joypixels

what in the hell is joypixels? and what in the hell is this? i just...the hands and feet are plantigrade, meaning that the ankles touch the ground, when actual sauropods were digitigrade - walking on their toes. the shoulder and hip muscles aren’t there, and instead the limbs are just awkwardly connected to the body. it reminds me of a turtle, and not in a good way.

score: 4/10. uninspired and dull

openmoji:

they didnt try. nor will i.

score: 0/10 make an effort

emojidex

every emojidex emoji i have ever seen has just been awful. this is no different. this looks like a stereotypical loser from a meme, but as a dinosaur. the contrast between the decently moderate level of artistic detail put in and the blatant disinterest towards making it look like an animal is staggering. just awful.

score: -3/10 i just cant care enough about it to rate it lower

emojipedia:

excuse me? what the fuck? what the fuck is this? this is the main character from the low-budget ripoff of the good dinosaur. the head looks like a Corythosaurus  and the body looks like barney in leapfrog stance. the gradients just make me feel a little sick. it’s awful. look at the hindlimbs and tell me that any love was put into drawing this. it’s like how a dinosaur would be drawn on tom and jerry but like, the bad charmless ones made in the 90s that were trying hard to emulate the originals. the hands look like green snowboots.

score: -500/10 i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you 

[codenamed-queenie]

#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched. 

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire. 

So. Quarantine it is. 

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick - 

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days. 

Then he started to get twitchy. 

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.” 

“Dick, no.”  

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t. 

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass. 

Desperate for news of the outside. 

He thrives off of it like a starving man. 

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after. 

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason - 

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist. 

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking. 

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results. 

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it. 

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up. 

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done. 

Barbara - 

Self-quarantined with her dad. 

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive. 

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs. 

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together. 

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles. 

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony. 

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window. 

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background. 

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute. 

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen. 

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’ 

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe. 

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned. 

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim. 

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being. 

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out. 

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it. 

Cass - 

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate. 

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed. 

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far. 

But no one knows for sure. 

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel. 

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later. 

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic. 

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day. 

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’  mostly. 

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost. 

Steph - 

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first. 

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down. 

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable. 

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving. 

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks. 

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s. 

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic. 

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place. 

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian - 

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house. 

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine. 

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds. 

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion. 

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time. 

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are. 

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time. 

Only that he is Out There. 

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had. 

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies. 

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat. 

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts. 

Duke - 

Did not leave the attic for two weeks. 

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement. 

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement. 

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement. 

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa. 

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally. 

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others. 

Duke has seen these people under pressure. 

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with. 

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

[ufonaut]

you may have already answered this kind of question so i apologize if you have, but i’m wondering what you think a majority of comic fans miss with understanding subtext and characters? like outside of what you’ve already spoken about (personal headcanons and feelings) is it just that a lot of fans don’t have the media literacy they think they do? or just newer fans that have only read the most popular series. i only ask bc sometimes i worry i don’t know if i’m reading between the lines correctly and if you’d share like.. ig your process for drawing conclusions ab characters? i feel like i may have answered my own question here LOL

ah, no, i've never spoken about this at length and i'm honestly flattered you reached out, thank you! i don't have a process per se, i think my interest in engaging with comics the way i do comes from doing film studies at uni and seeing the two mediums as having more common ground than with literature per se due to the visual doing the heavy lifting but i do sincerely believe that anyone can read the text as it's meant to be understood if they only apply themselves -- and the fact of the matter is that many people don't.

i'd say you got it in one, it's a case of both overestimating and underestimating their media literacy and i think a lot of the time particularly fandom-y blogs see things that simply aren't there and try to write meta that serves their purposes rather than shed some light on the text they're talking about. the way i see it, there's three fundamental questions to ask yourself before getting started on any comics analysis worth its salt

1) what's the objective reality of this?

2) is this a common trope/phrase? is it evocative of or a homage to a certain piece of media that has entered the basic pop culture lexicon?

3) how much of the author spilled into this?

and to elaborate on that:

1) before you get to the subtext, it's only natural to build up on a foundation of facts. i mean, the really basic stuff -- who, what, when, why.

for example, looking at my recent posts regarding hal jordan's timeline, take his stories in the flash (1959) backups running throughout #220 - 246. he's coming off a year-long road trip with ollie queen and he's been unemployed the entire time, he's not only broke but living in poverty, he's depressed. none of this is a great feat of analysis, these are all facts verbally stated by the character with the sole exception of the last one -- but how do we know that? several stories have hal's will faltering, several others see him having difficulties scrounging up enough money for food let alone a roof over his head. logic dictates that his circumstances affect his mental health.

sometimes it really is purely about recognising what's right in front of you and putting it in context, you can't talk about these backups without talking about what preceded them (the hard travelling heroes era) because they do not exist in a vacuum. unless you're talking about an elseworlds/one-shot/limited series/complete run from start to finish it's absolutely impossible to properly engage without context, that's also where the common misconception that comic book timelines are confusing comes from.

2) i don't expect people to just be naturally born with this knowledge but i think it's pretty easy to get a sense of what's a reference (even if it's not one you recognise) and what's not and making an effort to research that, even if it's just a quick google search. this is a common complaint i've seen in attempted meta of tom king's work on here so let me bring up some examples from his recent mature books

(the human target 2021 #3)

"booster is booster is booster" isn't merely repetition for the sake of repetition but very obviously a play on the common "a rose is a rose is a rose" phrase, which has been used in all media for decades now and yet was brought up in at least five different posts on here as an example of 'bad writing' (regarding the literal structure of it) rather than just owning up to their lack of knowledge.

and this also applies to shot-for-shot recreations such as mr terrific's scene with alanna strange's dad

and how it's an acknowledged reference/homage to sidney poitier in in the heat of the night (1967)

and all that says about the role mr terrific plays within strange adventures' narrative. again, this is knowledge better researched if not immediately recognised and you'll often find it mentioned in issue reviews if necessary.

3) as we all know, comics are a collaborative effort like nearly no other piece of art. the finished product is not only the work of the writer, artist, inker, colorist & letterer (all of which play vital roles in the process) but that of the editor as well and this is another instance where 'doesn't take place in a vacuum' applies. i'm all for death of the author but the direction a character is heading is definitely informed by the entire creative team's experiences and expectations, i think it's worth investigating what the people in question have had to say about it -- especially regarding an older comic -- after you've formed your own opinions.

there's cases where the writers make conscious decisions to disguise their opinions or where they're coming from and their success varies (take chuck dixon's work on connor hawke vs gerard jones' horrific depiction of arisia rrab) but there's also comics that are infinitely made better because the writer in question relates deeply to the characters they're writing (look at tom king's very personal depictions of mental health or keith giffen's insistence on giving an air of genuine reality to any working class character), that's even setting aside cases of gay characters being written by straight writers and so on. here, i'd sincerely recommend drawing a line between what's just another job for somebody and what's mattered to them intensely and if you want to take your engagement this far then it's definitely vital to check interviews, comic magazines, etc etc.

so yeah, here's a little look into my line of thinking! i hope it helps some and i'm sure you're doing just great if you're concerned about this to begin with :)

[dainty-fingertips]

hail 2 u! ||polnareff x fem! reader

HEY HI so im just kinda dumping stuff from google docs onto here to kind of establish myself so anyway heres my french bb wjhged;; also minor spoilers if you haven’t finished stardust crusaders!!

word count: 2449

summary: you and polnareff were teamed by dio himself and saved by jotaro in hong kong. polnareff is hit with a wave of guilt as you and the crusaders reach what joseph has said to be avdol’s father’s island. you follow him out onto the beach to try and comfort him, and while it seems to work, the enemy stand hiding nearby inside an old middle-eastern kerosene lamp has no intention of giving you both time alone. that is, until the frenchman makes a certain wish.

trigger warnings: none :)

||

          He sat down on the chopped stump of a palm tree, his head in the palm of his hand. She had followed after him when he walked away, she knew he wouldn’t stop blaming himself for the death of Avdol. She approached him from behind with a worried look on her face. “Polnareff…” She said, softly. He turned around. “Oh, [y,n].” He said. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Mr Joestar and the others?” She stayed silent. She calmly walked toward the Frenchman and rested on a large rock to his right. “I couldn’t just let you go on your own.” She muttered, her face growing warm. “You know what happens when you’re left by yourself, anyway.” She smiled somberly, trying to lighten the mood.

          He chuckled dryly. “Yeah, yeah.” He turned toward her a bit. Thankfully her weak attempt at humor had worked, as his expression seemed less dull. The wind picked up a bit, causing the afternoon sun to beam down a bit more harshly on the beach. He turned his head, and she followed suit. He squinted his eyes. “Hey, is that…?” She tilted her head. “It looks like…” He stood up and approached the shiny object, a dull gold hue peppering through a barnacle clad shell. She raised herself off of the rock and took a few steps forward, glancing around his side. “It’s pretty.” He said, his eyebrows raised.

          He picked it up and examined it. “I wonder if it came from a shipwreck. Look at all of those barnacles.” She added, moving around and picking at it with her fingernails. “Hey, hey! Careful! You might scratch the gold underneath!” He said, holding it above his head and significantly out of her reach. “H-Hey! No fair, Pol!” She cried with furrowed eyebrows. He laughed at her futile attempts. “Yeah, right!” The two of them went through a solid minute of teasing, insulting, jumping, and punching (Three of those four were brought upon by [y,n], that is), it seemed that the strange object had been rubbing around in his hand quite a bit.

          A sudden burst of blinding light beamed out through what was left of the barnacles and caused Polnareff and [y,n] both to panic, and him to drop it. They both stepped back, [y,n] opposite to him. An odd smoke rose out of the tip of what was now seen to be a kerosene lamp of sorts; similar to the one from Aladdin. Though, the smoke disappeared just as quickly as it had come, causing the two of them to look around confused. The light and smoke both were gone, but the lamp remained. Polnareff sighed after a moment. “Man! That was weird. Must’ve been pressurized air from inside.” He said, a hand on his forehead. [y,n] nodded looking to the left. “Would’ve been cooler if there were a genie, but, you’re right. Probably just gas.”

          When she looked back, however, she panicked and pointed behind him. “P-Polnareff, look out! A Stand!” He jumped, his eyes widening. He took long strides toward her and whipped his head around. “What the hell?!” A peculiar looking Stand, one which appeared to be more industrial than some of the previous that the group had encountered. “Three wishes!” The Stand called, holding up an arm-like appendage; though it had only three fingers on each hand. “I will grant you three wishes! Whatever you wish is my command, master!” The Stand was gigantic, standing a solid 10 feet tall. “My name is Cameo. Thank you for letting me out of my lamp.” [y,n] glanced around, sweat sliding down her cheek. “Uhh, n-no problem.”

          Though, it didn’t seem that Polnareff was ready to initiate conversation with the entity. “Another Stand user! [y,n], back me up!” She looked at him and nodded her head. Blossom Samurai and Silver Chariot, both sword wielding Stands, got into a sort of formation, with Samurai behind Chariot. They battered Cameo with their swords, but they barely did any damage. Chariots rapier was too weak, and Blossom’s attacks were only a mere second too slow causing Cameo to dodge with ease. “Son of a…” Breathed them both in unison. “You’re pretty strong!” Said Polnareff. “Your user must be close. Where is he?” Cameo crossed its arms. “Again, I’m here only to grant wishes. Do you want your first wish to be a lame one like that?” He groaned.

          Polnareff granted. “Yeah, yeah, what is it with you and wishes, huh? Are you saying you can make me rich right now?” Cameo’s voice was unwavering. “Is that your first wish?” Polnareff relaxed a small bit, but was still on edge. “You know what? Sure, dumbo. Let’s see you put your money where your mouth is.” Cameo’s arms uncrossed. [y,n] squinted. “Fine, then. Your wish shall be granted.” The two of them raised their eyebrows. “Huh?” Mumbled [y,n]. Cameo put its arms in an odd position, like a puppeteer would do, and raised its voice. “Hail 2 U!” 

          It immediately disappeared, causing them to blink a few times and watch the leftover smoke dissipate. Polnareff reached down and pulled the half buried lamp from the sand. Night had nearly fallen by now, but it was still visible. “What was all that about?” Polnareff asked in a confused tone. He sighed. “So…” she muttered. “What was that thing? Was it a Stand, or wasn’t it?” He shrugged. “If it is, what a weird Stand to send after someone.” He noted with a chuckle. She nodded her head. Damn these Stand users; she just wanted a chance to be with Polnareff. She excused the thought from her head with a bite of her lip. “Do you think maybe it’s got something to do with Avdol’s dad?” He shrugged his shoulders, the sunlight caressing his face in a way that would make anyone melt. 

          Her face got hot again. This stupid Frenchman has no idea what he’s doing, sending soft gazes her way. Every time he laughed, she felt like melting butter. She couldn’t help but look away from him with a coy grin. Polnareff chuckled. “Hey, what’s that look for? Come on, you don’t have to force yourself to look away. I know you think I’m hot.” He teased nonchalantly. She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Hah! As if, stupid.” She sent him a playful grin and stuck her tongue out. She was really hoping he didn’t actually know.

          It was then in that moment, both of them smiling goofily at each other, that a noise was heard. “Hey, what was that?” He asked, turning around. “Sounded like metal.” She said, walking in the direction of the noise. It was near; maybe just in the grass 6 feet away. Polnareff followed suit, and lo and behold. “W-Whoa!” She cried, leaning in. “No way!” He yelled afterward. The two of them crowded around what appeared to be a half buried chest of doubloons, jewelry, and bejeweled goldware. “T-That’s real buried treasure!” He called, scooping a few coins out. “But how?” She asked, tuning her fingers through it. “Hell if I know! But this is all mine!” He laughed chaotically. 

          “You little—! I helped you find this, I get half! 50/50!” He snorted. “As if, stupid!” He retorted, mocking her previous statement. “Ooooh, I’m gonna kick your--!” Directly before she went for his money, Cameo’s booming voice echoed from above. “Now, what is your second wish? I shall grant it.” The two of them shot their gazes up to the Stand. Polnareff freaked and dropped the coins, to which [y,n] then picked up and stuffed in her pocket. “Y-You! Why are you doing this?! Whatever you have up your sleeve, I’m not falling for it!” He yelled up at the genie, perched in a palm tree. “I am keeping the gold though.” He added shortly after.

          Cameo stayed silent for a moment. The only sound that could be heard was the wind blowing and the ocean rocking. “Is the answer to that question your second wish? As thanks for my freedom, I’ll give you anything,  including such a stupid answer.” [y,n] huffed and nudged Polnareff. He looked down at her and his expression softened. “F-Fine, then.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I want to be a comic artist!” He exclaimed. The answer threw [y,n] for a loop completely. A comic artist? She had never known he was interested in art. In fact, the only interest he’d shown was when he’d watch her draw.

          “I’ve always wanted to be one! And not just some starving artist, either! I want to be more popular than Walt Disney!” She furrowed her eyebrows with a stunned expression. “Huh?” She whispered. “Pol, I don’t think—“ he cut her off. “I want to create Polnareff Land!” He stood with his arms out in a comically dramatic stance, [y,n] in a stunned (and slightly embarrassed) silence at his side. “... Is this your wish?” Polnareff lowered his arms. “Actually, no, wait,” Oh thank God. She wiped metaphorical sweat from her forehead. Maybe he’d think of something more rational.

          “I want a girlfriend!”

          The phrase made her freeze in place. Her eyes were wide and her throat closed. He wanted a girlfriend, did he? He really must have just thought of her as a friend, then. She kept her mouth shut and kept her eyes on Cameo. What was she supposed to say to that? The words echoed in her mind. She wanted to love him like that so badly, but Polnareff seemed to feel otherwise. “Love is better than money or fame.” He said with a grin. At least he was sincere about that, she could tell. “She’s got to be really cute. I want a girl who’s my perfect match! Our pinkies entwined with the red string of love!” He held up his right pinkie finger for emphasis. 

          Polnareff had never made her feel so conflicted before. Her insecurities began to softly gnaw at her. Was she not cute enough? She felt like they were perfect for each other. She’d liked him since Hong Kong. Was this really happening? She simply kept her gaze on Cameo. She stared at it. What was it going to do? She thought genies couldn’t make people fall in love. “You want me to find the perfect match for you?” It asked him. “Yeah! Try that, bastard!” Cameo sat still for a moment. As she was staring, she noticed it turn its head slightly in her direction. It was looking at her.

          She inhaled sharply. What was it doing? Cameo was completely silent for several seconds until it finally decided to pipe up. “Very well.” It turned its head back to Polnareff slowly. “Hail 2 U!” The Stand once again dissolved into smoke. Polnareff looked at his finger expectantly, and sure enough, there it was. She saw it too. The red string of fate. He grinned. “Oh, wow! I finally get to have my perfect girl!” He beamed. She stayed silent. He looked down at her curiously. “Hey, you okay? You’d usually have made fun of me or something by now.” She looked ahead and nodded. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m good. I’m happy for you, man.” Though she never once looked at him. Polnareff sighed. “Thanks, I’m glad too! Let’s see, where does it lead?” He held the string and noticed it went to his right. He looked in growing surprise to see [y,n] standing there, staring into the ocean with the most flat look he’d seen her sport, and a growing lump in her throat. Was she about to cry?

          He wasn’t really sure what prompted him to do it. What made him want to look down first before pressing her on how she felt. Though he was sure glad he did; in fact, it was arguably the best decision he made during that 50 day trip. If he hadn’t taken a mere half second to glance down below her waist, Polnareff wouldn’t have caught the crimson string tied around her finger until a much later, possibly much more awkward time during their interaction. He felt his heart swell inside of his chest, sheer ecstasy causing blood to rush to his cheeks and make his face burn as if he himself were a bonfire of sheer emotion.

          “H-Hey…” he began, reaching out with a shaky left hand. “Hm?” She looked over. She hoped the darkness of night would hide the tear that had dropped from her right eye and down her cheek. “[y,n], you, uh… your hand.” She slowly held up her left hand and stared in shock at the string around her pinkie. “That’s— that’s the-“ she quickly turned to look at his hand. Sure enough, the two were bound. Polnareff soon grew a stupid grin. “Well, well. Look at that.” The utter euphoria she experienced in that moment went unmatched with anything else she’d ever felt. “We-“ she choked back another sob as more tears fell. She covered her mouth and shut her eyes. 

          Polnareff freaked out. “H-Hey!! You okay? [y,n], c’mon! I’m not that bad!” He joked. “You idiot!” She called, throwing her arms around him. “You scared me!” She heaved into his shoulder. “I thought- I thought you didn’t—“ she shakily said. He chuckled. “Hey, hey! Calm down! If you’re wondering if I didn’t like you, you’re not just wrong. You’re stupid.” He grinned softly. She giggled like a little kid on Christmas. “I was so afraid when you said you wanted a girlfriend.” She said, pulling away. Polnareff put his arms around her waist. 

          “I thought I wasn’t good enough.” She laughed awkwardly. “I only said it because I thought you didn’t like me.” She noticed a glimmer in Polnareff’s eye; he was crying too. “O-Oh, Pol, you-“ before she could say another word he pressed his full lips against hers in a brief kiss. “Shut up.” He laughed, tears smeared on her face. She snorted and wiped his cheek. “I’ve liked you for so long. Ever since Hong Kong.” He scoffed playfully. “Ever since Dio paired us, you little snail. Did you just ignore all my little attempts to go on dates with you?” She giggled. “I didn’t wanna take it the wrong way. You never actually asked, idiot.” 

“Well, how about this.” He cleared his throat and laughed again. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” She nodded with a dumb grin. “Yes, yes, of course, dumbass.” She leaned up for a kiss and he returned the gesture. “Let’s beat the hell outta this guy and regroup, okay?” He smiled. “My pleasure.”

[wickednerdery]

Title: Save a Mobius, Ride a Loki Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Loki, Rick & Morty Pairing/character: Loki & Mobius, Rick & Morty Rating: FRM Summary: “Mobius, no!!” Notes: This is a continuation of The Great Loki and something that’s been stuck in my head since before Loki premiered I’ve been dying to write, so I have. Knowledge of Rick & Morty is helpful, but not required. This story has adult content, language, and violence. For length, etc, there’s a Read More:

Loki scans the desert, wary he’s ended up where he began; where the TVA first collected him. The whinnying of horses on the wind and outline of an American frontier town in the distance indicates this is unlikely, which is a relief. He takes a few steps, then stops and turns back. “What are you doing?”

Mobius sighs as he fusses with the TemPad. “Trying to figure out when and where we are.” He stumbles through the sand as he attempts to keep up with the god’s long strides. “There’s something wrong with the specs, the settings maybe…” Then a thought blooms in the back of his mind, compels him to ask. “You didn’t do anything to it, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Loki…” It’s gentle warning, reminder. The TVA isn’t done with him, he’ll not simply let Loki wander off.

The tone, implication of it, offends. “I didn’t do anything to your blasted device!” He storms off with his own suspicion and settles under a Joshua tree to examine the gun he lifted from the old man. 

Mobius plops beside him, undoing tie as the god shifts to share the shade. “I’m sorry I accused, it’s just…” He’s Loki.

Loki ignores in favor of moving on. “I think the portal gun moves across time and space. We’re in another dimension entirely, see?” He shows the tiny dials, settings, on the device. “Your TemPad won’t work, because it doesn’t exist here.”

If the TemPad doesn’t exist, then reason stands that the TVA doesn’t either and the thought is mind-blowing - terrifying and exciting both. Mobius lived his life with the understanding that the TVA, the Time-Keepers, existed everywhere and (in a way) at every time, and yet...He examines the gun for himself, then hands it back. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Enough exposition for the readers then?”

“I guess so, I mean, we don’t want to bog them down in the...”

“Talky talky talky.” They say in unison. 

“So...how do we figure out where we are then?”

“I’ve a thought.” Loki gets up, starts in the direction of the town, with Mobius quick to catch up. As they carry on he waves hand to change their clothing according to what he suspects will be most appropriate.

“Did you just change my clothes?”

“Of course, how else did you expect us to fit in?”

“No, it’s nice…” The agent looks over the dark shirt, cowboy boots, before taking off the hat to examine. “Impressive...Just...why am I all in black?”

“Because I’m in white.”

“Yeah...But why are you in white and then, you know, I’m in black?”

“Maybe I want to change things up? Think that’s possible? ” It’s said sarcastically, but Loki himself isn’t sure it’s not true. 

Mobius smiles. “If anyone could do it, it’d be you.” 

When they arrive the god scans the rough wood buildings, the rougher looking citizens that stroll and spit in the streets, with growing smile. This is a place he can enjoy, regardless of where or when it is. Eyes follow a woman in threadbare silk, breasts nearly out, before they find the double-gun holster of her companion.

"What you grinnin’ at, Saddle-Bum?” When Loki laughs the man grows enraged, pulls his gun.

Mobius curses and scrambles as chaos breaks out, just managing to push the woman out of the way of the gunfire. He tucks them behind a pile of barrels that spill liquor as bullets fly. “Stay down.” As the dust settles he glances out. “Loki?” He’s not cross, only worried.

The god only smiles, triumphant over the local bleeding out on his back. “Ah, there you are, Mobius!” That’s a relief.

The woman begins to scream. “Oh my god! You shot the sheriff!!”

“But I did not shoot the deputy.” Loki tips his hat with a grin.

He should be angry, scared, but Mobius isn’t. Heart pounds not with fear, but at the possibilities. It’s one thing to study Loki, to interview and interact with him under controlled circumstances, but this is something entirely different. They’re off the proverbial reservation. This is a wild Loki and it’s thrilling. “This is crazy…” The corners of his lips lift in spite of himself as men drag the body away. “Lucky no one liked that sheriff.”

“Funny how often that happens.” Loki chuckles. “Shall we find a room then?”

“Two.”

“Mobius, really, I thought you would know better. If two beings are in this sort of scenario, there will only be one room and one bed available.”

"Come on, you really think the...powers that be are gonna pull that old trope out?”

Loki only chuckles as he swings saloon doors wide and cheers. “Your new sheriff is here!” The gunslingers, prospectors, and whores all turn and stare. Just stare. The god drops hands to hips, but smile remains. “Tough crowd.” He huffs his laugh, carries on to the bar. “May we have two glasses of your finest and two rooms please?”

“Sorry, just got the one available.”

“On, come on, really?” The agent is incredulous. “Did Loki put you up to this?”

The bartend and proprietor smirks. “You want the room or not?”

“The one room will do just fine, thank you,” Loki smiles out before grabbing the whole bottle rather than poured glass and heading towards a cards game. “Are you coming or not?”

It takes a moment to realize the saloon owner had no expectation of getting paid now, that Mobius was free to go to the table if he wished. He did and he did, settling beside Loki. “You know how to play this game?”

“I know how to play many games, from many different lands. Do you know how to play?”

“I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it.” Not more than a few hands later he’s nearly all the pot to himself.

The god is thoroughly impressed. “You lied.” He smiles.

“Ahhh, what is a lie, anyway?” Mobius smiles back. “Just a...” He shrugs. “Reinterpretation of the truth.”

“You get that from your space lizard employers?”

“Nope.” He sets another winning hand on the table. “I got that from you.”

“Yer a cheat,” a player grumbles. “A liar and a cheat.” Mobius prepares to defend himself when the player turns to Loki. “And a lousy sheriff.” The god only laughs before the man grabs his wrist, digs into Loki’s jacket pocket, and pulls out an ace.

Guns cock in the men’s direction; one sighs, the other grins madly. 

“Loki, you weren’t even winning!” Mobius decries.

“Well I would have been, if you weren’t so good!” 

“Oh, so this is my fault?”

“Not completely.”

“Not remotely!”  The two men begin to devolve themselves into a shouting match, talking over each other as they plot an escape. “Are you ready?!”

“As I’ll ever be!”

“Good!”

“Great!”

Loki blasts the poker player holding his wrist along with two other gunslingers while Mobius socks the man beside him in the nose. It quickly escalates, spreads across the saloon like a tornado that draws in all manner of people around it. Chairs and bullets and glasses fly through the air. Mirrors and tables shatter, people scream, and through it all the god revels...and so does the agent. Until, that is, another gun fires from outside...Fast, futuristic, and deadly so both man and god hit the floor lest they get hit.

“I know you’re in there you portal gun stealing fuckers!” Rick rages from within his ship. It isn’t simply that they took his gun - they weren’t the first and he’d many - it was that he hadn’t discovered the theft soon enough. It was the hit to his ego. “Come out here now and maybe, maybe, I won’t squanch your ass!”

“Jesus, Rick, relax.” Morty doesn’t know why he bothers as his grandfather turns to berate him instead.

Loki pops up, begins to pull magic into his hands as Mobius braces on overturned table to stand. “Hide in the rafters” 

“The rafters?” Mobius looks up as Loki forms him an armored vest as precaution. “Are you kidding me? What in our history together makes you think I’m capable of something like that?”

“Then hide elsewhere, just let me handle the old man.” Loki gives overconfident wink.

Mobius sighs...This is it, this is how he dies… “I’ve a better idea.” He storms past Loki, strolls out into the street where the other two are still arguing in their ship.

“Mobius no!” Loki gives chase.

As you can see, Loki’s got no trouble slipping into new, chaotic, worlds and having a blast while Mobius takes a bit longer to find his footing - this may change as Mobius continues to travel and finds his own way of making things work. Because the rascals couldn’t manage to finish their cowboy tale in one go, there will be at least one more piece in this Wild West world...Hope y’all don’t mind, haha! (”Saddle-Bum” is an old west phrase meaning drifter.)

All gifs made found on Google, combined by me, credit goes to whoever their OG makers are!

Those who may read: @holykryptonitekitten @lady-crowned-with-stars @ultrarebelheart @chibiyanai @dreamsofapiratelife @biiskuitx @delightfulheartdream @antoniostarshadow13 @mobiusbmobius​@zippythewondersquirrel ...If you wish to be tagged in future pieces, please let me know!

[butterfrogmantis]

Hello

I just wanted to say that I love your oc's.

Also do you have any drawing tips?

Thank you so much!! :3 I'm always glad that people do ^^

Drawing tips is a little vague, anything specific? I'm not a professional by any means but I'm happy to share some of my techniques ^^

For now my top 3 general words of advice are;

3. Your art can and WILL fluctuate in quality. Do not be discouraged! Sometimes I draw stuff which I come back to the day after and go 'yikes that could be fixed' and that's part of the fun! What you will notice is that over subsequent time, the average 'meh' art will be better than a 'good' art you could have produced a year or two ago and THAT is when you know you've made it! So my advice here is to believe in yourself, take deep breaths, and mostly importantly, it should be fun!

2.Reference, reference, reference! This is so important and so many people default to 'oh well, it's my art style :)' when advice is given to them without even attempting to see how it would go but honestly that's a sort of bad attitude unless it's genuinely a specifically tailored gimmick. And believe me, I've had people give me advice which I've tried, thought 'eh honestly I preferred how it looked before' and reverted, and that's ok too because I trialled and errored it! Again, I've got a long way to go with some things but google is a friend ^u^

1. Just keep going! I've had people get frustrated with the phrase 'just practise' but I don't understand the anger because yeah? It's fun to do! Not practising won't magically make your technical abilities increase, it's a skill not a talent for most people, I learn new stuff every day and have fun doing so! Never be afraid to ask an artist how they pull off a specific look or technique, it's helped me a lot over time! :3

[yuckydraws]

A writing prompt, hmm? Why don't you try writing some fluff with horror sans? (he's one of your favorites right?) Maybe going on a picnic?

He very much is one of my faves<3 thanks for the prompt bro!!

Okay so this is mostly fluff but I threw the tiniest bit of angst in there, but it’s very mild (tbh I’m not sure I could even call it angst). Just to give it some plot;)

Also sorry for the awkward spacing I pasted this from Google docs and tumblr is being difficult >:(

(HT!Sans/reader)

•••••••

“Hey, how willing would you be to put on this blindfold and come with me?” You ask your skeleton boyfriend as you lounge on the couch, blindfold in hand.

“.... huh?” Sans blinks at you in confusion. He was on his way to sit on the couch when you spring the question on him. It stops him in his tracks, leaving him to stand awkwardly in the middle of the living room.

“I said, how willing are you to put on this blindfold and come with me?” You repeat yourself, holding up the blindfold excitedly. Yeah that might not be the best way to phrase it, but hey, you’ve made it this far - might as well commit. He stares at the offending object, squinting a bit with his one eyelight.

“... no.”

“C'mon, please?”

“no.”

“Please?”

“no.”

“Why not?” You pout and he gets a twinge of maroon on his cheekbones.

“... why do i need… to wear a blindfold?” He asks while averting his gaze from your pout. You take it in stride and instead shift your position on the couch to meet his gaze again, smiling up at him.

“Because it’s a surprise!”

“don’t like surprises…” Despite his words, it’s obvious you’re wearing him down.

“It’s a good surprise!”

Sans doesn’t look entirely convinced. You stand up and grab one of his large hands in both of your small ones (at least small compared to his), and give him a reassuring squeeze.

“I promise.” You both don’t use this word lightly.

Sans stares down at you.

You stare back.

“... ok.” He caves.

“Yay! Now lean down big guy, I need to be able to tie this.” He complies, staring at you until his sockets are eventually covered. You’re careful of the gaping hole in his skull and make sure not to tie it too tight - to avoid potentially irritating his dead socket. When you finish you take advantage of his close face and kiss him on the cheek, causing him to purr and lean into the kiss.

“Pfft- you dork! C’mon, you’re gonna love it!” You say as you pull away and grab his hand to start leading him out of the front door. He was wearing his slippers, so thankfully you didn’t have to awkwardly attempt to put shoes on him. You hold back a snort at the mental image of yourself sliding shoes onto his gargantuan feet like a princess. Though you are quickly sobered when you almost trip on a porch step, leaving you to focus on helping Sans down the porch steps and leading him to your shared vehicle.

You help him get situated in the seat. In hindsight, perhaps the blindfold could’ve waited until your huge skeleton boyfriend was already in the car? Ah well, guess you both could be scatterbrained sometimes.

You smile, amused, as you remember how you both had to buy this huge van just so Sans could sit comfortably.

It’s a struggle but he’s eventually in his seat, buckled and relaxed, while you start the van and back out of the driveway. As your drive begins you turn the radio on low - hoping to ease any nerves he may still have by giving him something to focus on, while not being loud enough to give him a headache. You glance at him, feeling a bit nervous.

You guys have been dating for about four years now, and you couldn’t be happier! After three years of dating (and Papyrus going off to medical school) you both bought a small little house in the outskirts of Ebott city, and the past year had been domestic bliss for the two of you. Of course, you’ve had your ups and downs, but overall Sans has been the sweetest boyfriend you’ve ever had. He may not be much of a conversationalist, but he makes up for that with his actions. That one game you had mentioned you wanted to play once? It was on your shared nightstand a few days later. That snack he knows you like? The house is always stocked with them. Having a bad day? He will not hesitate to draw you a nice bath, pamper you, and/or initiate cuddles and kisses.

No matter what, he always finds a way to express his love for you, and lately you’ve been feeling undeserving of this almost? No that’s not the right word. You just felt like you could be doing more. Because you, on the other hand, are amazing with your words. You enjoy watching his face turn that beautiful deep maroon and hearing his purrs stutter the more he’s flustered by your words. You love to see him relax in your arms as you give him words of affirmation and assurance on bad days. You remind him of your love for him everyday and you give him all the sweet nothings he could ever want, but acts of service has always been a struggle for you. Of course, Sans never seems bothered and he’s never given you the impression that he wants more from you, but you want to try because he absolutely deserves it.

You also may have found his little pocketbook full of notes he takes throughout the day full of notes about you, your jokes, your stories, and little things you had mentioned. Due to his unfortunate head injury, he wasn’t always the best at remembering certain little things. You knew he was working on getting better, but you never pressured him to tell you how - it seemed like he didn’t want to share. You honestly felt bad you had found the book and snooped, but seeing just how much he writes about you in the notes more than anything else was just too sweet. It almost made you cry. Almost.

Ah who are you kidding? You definitely teared up.

So, you planned a little surprise date, full of his favorite things combined. The outdoors, food, and you - a picnic by the lake a little bit away from your home. After the hell monsters went through underground, most of them have a deep appreciation for the sky and full bellies (or what would be akin to a belly for them). Sans is no different, so you were hoping he’d take a liking to it.

“... how long... will the surprise take?” The question surprised you a bit, not only because it pulled you out of your musings, but because he’s usually very patient. That is, until you take in his stiff posture and realize the issue. Dinnertime is soon and he doesn’t quite know when you both will be eating.

“Don’t worry hon, we’ll have food soon,” You feel okay letting that bit of the surprise known. Despite being on the surface for almost seven years, Sans tends to get very nervous when you guys don’t stick to a schedule with meals. No need to keep him anxious. Especially considering you were pulling into the clearing of the lakeside. “In fact, we’re here!”

You put the van in park and tell Sans to wait for a second. Hopping out, you walk to the back of the van and open the back doors to grab the picnic basket you had packed. Once you make your way closer to the lakeside you quickly lay out the picnic blanket as well as place a folded blanket nearby in case it got a bit chilly. You then set up the food for a cute presentation, leaving the last part of the surprise you had for Sans in the basket. Jogging back to the van, you open Sans’ door to see he had already unbuckled himself. Guess he’s a bit more excited for the surprise than he let on earlier.

“Come on big guy, you’ve waited long enough” You grab his hand, help him out of the van and start leading him to the blacket set up.

“Can you lean down again?” You ask when you get to it. He does so and you gently take off his blindfold, making sure the fabric doesn’t catch on his skull injury or the rough bone near his dead socket. Once it’s off you gesture dramatically to the blanket. “Ta da!”

Sans stands straight up again and blinks a bit, overlooking the blanket at first, expecting something more near his sightline. Following where you're gesturing however, his eyelight eventually lands on the picnic blanket below. He still looks a bit confused. You were prepared for this type of reaction, many human activities such as picnics can be completely foreign to monsters - same for some monster activities being completely foreign to humans. You guys have had your fair share of these moments where you both have had to do a bit of explaining.

“what…?” He looks at you for an answer.

“It’s called a picnic. You pack food, take it to a scenic area, lay down a blanket, sit down, and eat. It’s sort of considered a cheesy romantic date idea, but I like them and I thought you would too... in fact I should’ve thought to take you on one of these sooner in our relationship! I actually had this idea last month, but it was too cold… also, most of the time picnics are a lunchtime date, but I like them during the sunset. It’s been awhile since our last date, huh?” You look up at him after your question to see him looking at the blanket with his face slightly red.

“... yeah i guess it has.” He has a small smile on his face and he stares down at the food.

You remember him getting very flustered when you would give him or buy him food at the beginning of your relationship. Since it was a scarcity down below, being willing to share food had a deeper intimate meaning for monsters. It meant that you loved them enough to offer a lifeline - food - that they so desperately clung to in its rarity. He still gets a little flustered now, but he’s been exposed to food sharing and he’s even come to enjoy it as a normal gesture. Though he seems a bit flustered now? Maybe because of the romantic undertone? Hmmmm, or maybe it’s because-

Your stomach decided to make itself known, growling loudly. You laugh, but Sans gives you an anxious look of concern, leading you to say:

“Well come on! Let’s eat!”

You don’t have to tell him twice, you’re both quickly seated and indulging on the yummy food you had made earlier today.

Sans makes sure you eat a good few bites before he digs in. There was a lot of it because, unsurprisingly, your mate has quite the appetite. But he still likes to wait for you to eat first no matter how much food there is. You didn’t even notice when he did that at the beginning of your relationship and when you finally did question him, he just said it was polite to wait for your mate to eat first. He didn’t elaborate more than that. When you researched into the topic you found that when there was a significant appetite difference and on the off chance there was access to food, it was polite for those with the bigger appetites to wait for the ones with smaller appetites to eat a bit first. Then it went into monster rankings, common folk monsters, boss monsters, different magic levels, etc. to which you got confused and pretty much gave up on the issue with a simple “fine, keep your secrets then” to your computer screen. You figured if Sans thought it was important for you to know he would have told you.

You both quickly fall into your normal dinner routine of you talking Sans’ nonexistent ears off about anything and everything and him listening closely, chuckling at your jokes and stories. You ended up telling him a story from highschool about your babysitting experiences.

“- and I mean she was freaking out. I was too. We were both responsible for this kid we were babysitting and we lost him. It was also super stressful because we had taken the kid all over town doing fun stuff like going to the zoo, the park, getting lunch - this kid could be anywhere! So we both decided after searching all over the house that we would drive and retrace our steps, starting at the last place we were.” You were telling your story with animated hand gestures, and Sans follows the movements with his eyelight. The sun was setting at this point, all the food was eaten, and you both were just enjoying each other's company.

“So, we get in the car - still freaking out mind you - and I asked my friend ‘should we just call his mom?’ and before my friend could answer I heard a little voice say, ‘why would you call my mom?’ I whipped my head around to see the kid just chilling in his carseat. Turns out we just forgot to unbuckle him and he had fallen asleep during the car ride! We were flipping the house upside down trying to find him and we hadn’t even taken him inside!” Sans broke out laughing at your dumb story, leaving you to grin.

“Oh sure it’s funny in hindsight, but I about peed my pants when we thought we lost him! I was so scared, what was I gonna tell his mom? ‘Hey Lisa, um it’s going great! Uh just thought you should know, we can’t find your kid and we may have lost him?’” Sans couldn’t stop laughing. You egged him on.

“Oh yeah, and wanna know the worst part? The little shit was old enough and clever enough to figure out what happened and we had to bribe him with ice cream to keep him quiet.” Sans let out boisterous laughter and fell back so that he was laying on the ground. You couldn’t help but join in at that point. You didn’t particularly think the story was all that funny but when Sans laughs like this, it’s infectious.

After you both calm down a bit, you look at Sans to see him gazing at you lovingly. You love this content expression he makes, when his eyelight gets all fuzzy and dilated, it makes you feel so special and loved. It’s his expression reserved only for you (and maybe that stew you made last week, he seemed to be pretty taken with that as well).

“... thank you, for tonight.”

“Dawww you big softie! Of course! It was the least I could do for you, you always make sure I’m happy and content. I wanted to give you something like that.” He blushes, but he also furrows his brows a bit.

“you don’t need to feel… like you owe me more, i do it because… i love you.” Of course, you knew this, but hearing him say it? It had you tearing up a bit. He reaches for you and you lean into his embrace, leaving you both cuddling on the ground. You sniff a bit, trying to stop the crying before it really starts.

“I know, I’ve been trying to drill that into my head, but you deserved tonight and I’m glad I went through with this. It was fun! I might plan more dates in the future. In fact I think I’m pretty good at it!” You jokingly say with all the unearned confidence in the world. Sans chuckles and pulls you closer and despite your efforts, a few happy tears do fall, leaving him to make a concerned noise.

“you okay?” He asks, and you wave away his concern.

“I’m fine, I just love you too.”

“heh… now who’s the softie?” He gently teases, pointedly ignoring the fact that he’s blushing again.

“Pfft- I guess you’re right. Literally too, I’m the one with the flesh and skin!” He erupts into laughter again.

“Easy crowd tonight.” You joke, causing him to laugh harder and you chuckle with him.

Once he calms down, you both lay in comfortable silence, before you remember your last surprise. You shoot up into a sitting position, making Sans - who was resting his eyes comfortably - let out a surprised growl. You laugh at his reaction, reassuring him that everything is fine.

“I just have one more surprise that I thought would be fun.” You dig into the picnic basket, pulling out the surprise and grabbing that extra blanket. You lay back down with Sans and pull the blanket over you guys.

“I think it should be dark enough for this,” You hand him the surprise - a handheld telescope. “It’s not as nice as the big one you have at home, but it’s a lot easier and lighter to carry around, plue we don’t have to stand.”

Sans smiles at you.

“... do you want to learn some more… constellations?”

“Absolutely I do!”

He begins to show you the visible constellations, and you proceed to make him laugh with the made up stories for them that you swear are the true origin stories. Just relaxing and goofing off, it’s moments like these where you remember just how lucky you were to be with your gentle giant, Sans.

[fadecrow]

In response to the person that told me I should stop creating fanwork for the HP universe:

I don’t care if you believe a fandom should die because the author is bad. I can like the original main series lore without liking anything published after or on the side. For example I don’t see HTTYD 3 as part of the HTTYD canon because I don’t like the way it ended. But that’s a rant for another post.

“The author is dead”, means that WE OWN THE FANDOM. It is solely ours. The fans made and run and control the fandom. It doesn’t belong to the creators, they have no power here, and many fandoms have spited the author in part or as a whole.

Read up on Anne Rice and her unsuccessful attempts to stop people from writing about gay vampires. She said it upset her to see people write fanfics. Many people deleted, but many also just moved and got exponentially more stubborn in response. If they didn’t have to stop under legal threat and laughed in her face for not supporting them, and they continued to write fanfic anyway, then we can do the same.

And we should turn the fandom against Rowling, instead of just leaving her an echo chamber of worshippers. We should say “Your idea sucks as it is right now so I’m stealing it and making it better. 🖕” and then make every character trans or an ally. Just soak the fandom in trans support until you can’t google it without seeing a hundred things with the phrase “trans rights”. She’ll see the improvement as bastardization, it will piss her off so much. Good. She should seethe. Maybe she’ll even drop it.

I am going to keep writing and drawing and sharing content because being in fandom isn’t the same realm as supporting the author, especially if I’m actively using it against them. I can post a drawing of Harry wearing a binder if I damn well please. Maybe we should make a different tag or something to stop the series from trending but idk how those things work.

Also, I mostly like AUs and crossovers and “Modern Character In Fiction” and universe expansions anyway, so really only the bare bones even stay the same. If the bare bones aren’t being straight up retconned to explain cross dimensional travel or something wild like that.

I am an autistic trans person, if you’re some middle schooler that wants to get mad at me for still liking the idea behind something that has been a hyper fixation and a comfort series since childhood, and for using those old ideas and character names to build my own thing that has been worked on for like a decade and a half, and you expect me to just throw all my effort into the trash in dark corner never to be seen, you can fuck off. I do “ReAd OtHeR bOoKs” and write other things AS WELL so stfu with that one.

If you don’t like it then block me, don’t talk to me. Don’t tell me about it. And stick to the discourse tags.

[meetmeatthecoda]

For the directors cut, Harbor. A personal favorite of mine. Thanks Coda! 😁

TALEEEEEEE 🥳🥳🥳 Thank you so much for this, you are the sweetest, I had no idea you loved Harbor so much, that warms my heart!! 🥰🥰 I shall put some bullet points below the cut, I hope you like them!! ❤️

Before I get into the fic: I like the title of this one!! I usually like my titles to have more than one meaning & that's definitely true of this one!! The whole showdown occurs at an actual harbor, of course, (I think I may have gotten that for the promo for 6.22 but I'm not sure??) BUT it also refers to the fact that Liz was trying to BE a harbor for Red by sheltering & protecting him from McMahon.

Ah yes, I liked the simplicity of the first line here & the fact that I could easily carry it through the rest of the fic as the general theme.

I also remember how long I had to google search before I figured out how to spell McMahon's name & I STILL had to copy & paste it bc I don't think it sounds at all how it's spelled & my brain couldn't handle it LOL

Ahhhhh, I loved including that little bit in the ammunition room at the Post Office, I had a very specific mental image for that: Liz loading a shot gun like a bad-ass & Red watching her & doing the Great Tongue Reaction LOL

I loved making McMahon just... a giant bitch, like comic-book-villain level awful & tbh? Don't regret it lmfao

Oooooh, I remembering loving the phrase "sharpening her vision and making her trigger finger itch." I just thought that was so visceral & intense.

I loved detailing Liz's protectiveness over Red in her physical actions & harried thoughts, it was fun to build that up along with the tension.

I liked writing the verbal sparring between Liz & McMahon, while keeping Liz very calm & determined bc there's simply no canon way she will allow harm to befall Red & that was the whole point of this fic.

And I liked the parallel of Liz having to shoot ANOTHER Attorney General - McMahon AND Tom Connolly - both times of pure protective instinct for Red cause 😏😏😏 yes

And I just love the “You really are a stupid bitch, aren’t you?” line. I always cackle when I read that, it feels like Liz reached across the distance between them & bitch-slapped her in the face ahahahaha

I loved that Liz's love confession is the thing to propel Red into speaking his first line, which is of course Lizzie's name, & he of course urges her not to shoot someone to save him again. I wanted that sacrificial aspect of their relationship to be front & center.

And the “I killed the first one for him too.” seemed like the perfect "OOOOOOOOOO" moment before Liz shoots McMahon & I just liked how business-like it all is, how Liz has absolutely no hesitation about killing whoever is trying to destroy Red bc tbh? That's canon.

And I loved bringing back the opening line right before the making out starts, I liked that all the emotion just has them barreling to that point & let's be honest, if Red & Liz aren't barreling towards making out, is it really a fic of mine? lmfaooo

Also apparently I have a thing for Red's reaction to Liz planting one on him being a surprised gasp against her lips bc I think I've written that in basically every single one of my fics lmfao #noregrets

(And oooooooh I forgot about that lion line, oooooooh, yep, that still seems very "Red" to me lol, I like it)

But honestly, the make-out scene was so. fun. to. write. I remember very specifically wanting to include Liz getting so carried away that she forgets Red is handcuffed & he has to urge her to uncuff him so he can participate ahahaha plus I liked the addition of the red marks on his wrists from where he was straining against them bc he wanted to touch her 😏😏😏

And oooooh, the line about them being by the harbor & her wanting to drown in him, I remember that coming surprisingly naturally & being happy it worked out so nicely with the setting LOL

And oh god, I have such a thing for Liz parroting back Red's canon lines of devotion to prove her own, I just love that cauSE IT WOULD HAVE BEEN A REALLY GREAT FULL CIRCLE MOMENT IN THE SHOW BUT WHATEVER I'M NOT BITTER IT'S FINE

And Red finally forgiving her for turning him in bc she saved his life felt... right, just natural & neat & tidy, plus I wanted that animosity resolved between them to give the story a nice ending.

Speaking of endings, here's some actual BTS info: I remember struggling over how to end this. I had a couple different scenarios in mind & it took a long time to decide on one. I think the first draft had Dembe arriving to whisk them away into hiding & the second draft had Papa Coops & the Justice League arriving to arrest them, but ultimately I didn't like either of those & I decided to leave it more open-ended. That's why I included that paragraph of Liz thinking 'maybe Cooper will arrest them or maybe they'll fly away but it doesn't matter bc they're together.'

I loved throwing the beginning line in there at the end as well!! I love symmetry, so I always attempt to draw a line through the whole fic to create a satisfying ending that ties back to the beginning or the title!! I get such satisfaction out of that whenever I accomplish it!!

Welp, there you go, my friend, I hope there was something mildly interesting in here & not just me ranting about how much I like writing Red & Liz making out!! 😂😂 Regardless, I hope you liked this, thank you so much for asking for it, & much love to you, my friend!! ❤️

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

[spellbound-banshee]

Intimacy - Adam Sackler

Summary: Adam wants to go slow in your relationship with you, he doesn’t want to mess it up. But he isn’t used to it, so you just... have a conversation.

Warnings: fluff, mild sexual content, small small amount of angst, like super light amount of smut, nothing too serious tho

Pairing: Adam Sackler x Reader

A/N: i’m re-watching girls literally only because of this man, so i’m going to write about it, i really hope y’all like the content!

“Yo, kid.” Adam happily greeted as he opened the door to his apartment - the rush of cold hallway air hit him and he quickly realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He didn’t see you take much of a notice to it, you just smiled your gorgeous smile back to him.

“Kid?” You asked, leaning against the doorframe, the first time you’re hearing the nickname.

“Yeah. It’s what I call my... y’know.” He made a far-off gesture with his hand, and you just giggled at his lack of knowing your label.

“You can call me your girlfriend, Adam.” You smiled and crossed your arms, cocking your head in mild curiosity. “Can I come in?”

“Fuck, yeah.” He laughed at himself, removing his hand from blocking the inside and you happily walked in, ducking under his arm. “What’s up, doll?” He asked, closing the door behind you and pulling up his jeans a bit, re-buttoning them.


You took off your jacket which he happily took from your hands, spinning it around and placing it on one of his stray chairs. “I think I like doll to.”

“Oh, good. I’m making a list.” He smiled when you laughed, placing his hands on your hips and stroking his fingers on the fabric of your pants. 

“I just came to see you, doll.” You emphasized the pet name, and he smiled down at your form, wanting to pull you into his waist and never let you leave. “I missed you.” Oh, how his heart yearned for those three words, he could break out into song if he had the voice for it.


“Missed you too.” He swayed you back and forth playfully, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, badly wanting to kiss him.


There was a brief moment of hesitance, you looked at his lips and he took it as a signal to kiss you, but before he could act on it he pulled away. Although it pained him, he took his hands off your hips and clenched his fists - you definitely took notice to that cue.


“Hey...” You soothed, reaching your hands up to caress his face and force him to look at you. He just looked confused and conflicted, normally he was super open about his thoughts, but this was just something he was so uncertain about. “You always kiss me when I come in, why’d you draw back?”


He cursed your ability to read him so well so quickly, and with your soft hand caressing his face, giving him that softly concerned look, he couldn’t resist. “I don’t wanna... fuck things up, y’know?” His voice raised a bit, he wasn’t sure how to express himself, and you could feel his growing conflict. You removed your hands from his face and took his hand, pulling him over to the couch and urging him to sit down.

He let out a big sigh and ran a hand through his hair, the strands already messing up and revealing his ears. “What do you mean? You haven’t fucked anything up.” You soothed him, and he looked at you with conflicted, tired eyes.

“I don’t want to do too much too fast. I don’t want the spark to end up dying or... for you to think I’m creepy or weird. Because... I really like you, kid. I do, and when I do... I’m all in. And I can get... intense and weird but I just don’t want to like, scare you away.” It broke your heart to see him second-guessing himself - you’d always known Adam to be confident and sure of himself, but this new vulnerable side just made your heart ache.


“Adam...” You whispered, taking his face and making him look at you. “I promise, I would tell you if you’ve made me uncomfortable at any point. I’m not afraid to do that, so rest assured that you have not done anything that would make me question my interest in you.” He could cry in that moment, he wasn’t sure he could say he loved you, but his entire life with you just flashed before his eyes. “The pace is honestly up to you, whatever you want.”


“It should be up to you.” He said, nuzzling his face into your hand softly.


“Why?” You tilted your head, making Adam smile at the stupidity of his statement. “I’m comfortable as long as you are, that’s why it works, okay?” He nodded, kissing the palm of your hand and you could see the emotions swirling in his honey-brown eyes. “Can I kiss you?” You asked, already beginning to draw him in with your hands, the ache in your heart just desperate to show some affection for him.


“Yes, please.” He teased, and you leaned over to connect his lips with yours. Perfect. Like always. He felt it too, the perfect connection, not just physically, but emotionally, mentally - you could finish each others sentences and practically smell when the other was upset. It was insane how similar you two were, and although that could be your downfall, it seemed to work in the moment.


He drew you closer, grabbing the bottom of your thighs and dragging you onto his lap, and you landed with a soft grunt. “Sorry, are you okay?” He asked, pushing your hair out of your face and kissing the tip of your nose.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You laughed it off, connecting your lips with his once more. This time, you licked his bottom lip and he submissively opened it, leaning back as you leaned forward on his thighs. He groaned into your mouth and placed his hands on your lower back to steady you, rubbing his tongue against your own. You bit his bottom lip and dragged it out a bit, and his eyes widened in surprise, his body reacting by heating up and blushing with arousal.


“Fuck...” He whispered, kissing your lips gently again before pulling away to catch his breath. You smiled, pressing your face into the crook of his neck and leaving soft kisses along his exposed collarbones. He leaned his head back and stroked the back of your head, playing with the stray strands of hair on the nape of your neck. “I think I like that.” He said as you pulled away to press your forehead against him, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his bluntness.


“Yeah?” You smiled, kissing his cheekbone and playing with his hair, pushing it back to reveal his ears. “Me too.” The hope you saw in his eyes made your heart swell, and you fucked up his hair a bit to hide the blush tinting your cheeks.


“Yeah?” He mocked your soft voice, picking you up and you screamed at the sudden motion, but it quickly turned into laughter. “Fuckin’... goddess.” He complimented you aggressively, giving your ass a gentle tap, already becoming more comfortable with you.


“Adammmmm put me down!” You whined, lightly punching his back, and he did, placing you down gently on the bed. His bed. You smiled, and he stared at you, all sprawled out in front of him, a look of drunken bliss on your face.


He pondered his response for a long moment, standing over you - then he attacked you, his entire body weight collapsing onto you at once. “Adam!!” Your voice sounded strained, and his hysterical laugh was muffled into the mattress.

“Oh no, baby you gave me the pass, no turning back now.” He laughed into the crook of your neck, leaving a few stray kisses there. Your laughter set a fire in Adam’s heart, how could someone so perfect be so happy under him? He wasn’t in the mood to question himself again, so he pulled away and just looked down at your stunning figure, still laying on top of you like a child. “My god, have I ever told you how pretty you look under me?”

“I’m sure I would look just as good on top of you.” You smirked, using all of your strength to flip him over - he smirked at your attempt, but eased up to let you think you had the power. “See? Pinned ya.” You teased, your hair falling in front of your face and he just smiled, running his hand through your hair and giving you another kiss. God, he could marry you right now.

“Is that a challenge, princess?” He teased, amazed at how comfortable you could make him in a span of a couple minutes. You just shrugged and he laughed, pulling you fully against him in a tight embrace. The two of you stayed in that hug for what felt like hours, surrounded by each others warmth and feeling free, comfortable, and safe.

“Hey, do you wanna get something to eat?” He broke the silence, running his fingers along your back in attempt to stir you if you were sleeping. You whined and hugged him closer, causing him to just smile and return the squeezing. “We could just order something, my phone is right here.”

“I don’t wanna move.” You slurred, your voice muffled by his bare shoulder, where you left a couple of kisses after speaking.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay.” He smiled, reaching for his phone a bit and deciding to Google a couple of places that would be nearby.

“I’ll stay.” He repeated against your shoulder, blissfully surrounded by you. Perhaps ‘i’ll stay’ could be your ‘i love you’ for now, because the phrase was on the tip of his tongue. Again, he would propose to you right now assuming you and everyone else would permit it.

“Promise?” You sleepily mumbled, picking up one of your hands and petting his hair gently. He laughed, before replying:

“I promise, kid.”

-

[nanasarea]

Huang Renjun as your idol bf

Genre: fluff

Pairing: renjun x idol!reader

Request: could I request renjun? +  can you do idol renjun as you’re bf? +  can you do it for renjun? (triple request, it’s what he would have wanted)

Word count: 1225 (i had to stop myself or else this would have been 5k) 

a/n: we know I don’t proofread at this point so.....

Haechan /  Yuta / Mark / Jeno / Jaemin / Chenle / Jisung

Your schedules overlapped

you were at music core

and when renjun lost a dare

he had to go outside and sing his iconic voice crack

he felt embarrassed 

but you couldn’t help but laugh

and since jeno knew of renjun’s crush

and he was next to you when you laughed

he was like “i’m gonna be such a good wingman”

so he was like 

“his voice crack is funny, but wait till you see his horrible attempts at comedy”

r.i.p 

lee jeno

2000-2020

but it got you to talk to him so

it worked 

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

so you ended up taking him up on his offer

“to show you his horrible attempts at comedy over a drink”

and so you went

sm said no

but renjun bullied them into saying yes

i mean

he insisted 

:)

normalize bullying sm 2020

anyway

the media knew abt your relationship

before you two did

bu are you surprised

i mean the man does what he wants

if he wants to kiss you in public before you’re even offical

so be it

he knows what he wants 

and he shall get it

with consent of course

now onto the relationship itself

you soon realize jeno wasn’t kidding

sometimes his attempts really were horrible

sometimes they were really funny tho

you never knew which one you were gonna get

he likes to be unpredictable like that

buys you moomin merch

but like matching merch

only matching

bc if not, it’s all his

acts like he would sell you for a bag of expired doritos

but is actually madly in love with you

kisses your forehead and tucks you in

without knowing you weren’t asleep

so when you bring it up

he’s like 

“waaaaat no i was just ....”

and then runs away 

literally never a dull moment

something tells me he would sneak out of the dorms at like 2am

to drag you to watch the stars

and discuss alien life

or another conspiracy theory 

or one of his “do sunflowers turn themselves to face the sun?” questions

or he just blurts out something that makes you have to google the answer

would bet on it beforehand tho

it always ends in existential crisis 

speaking of bets

call it a hunch, 

but this boy would bet on everything

just so at the end, he could hear 

“you were right”

he dresses up for you

and the dreamies tease him

like that one time he tucked his shirt into his pants

and the dreamies were OI RENJUN~

on the topic of dreamies being brats

you join them

of course you do

they love you for it

he doesn’t hesitate to beat all your asses tho

he ends up choking you as a joke

and you jokingly moan

and say “harder, daddy”

and now he has discovered some new kinks

I’m sorry I had to include that, i had a dream abt that once so

but i mean 

are we surprised?

he may be tiny

but he’s an aries

and a scorpio moon

what do you expect

he also draws for you a lot

draws you a lot too

like a lot

has a whole sketch book

just for his drawings of you

and for you

it ends up filling up in less than a month

but in his defense, 

HE JUST LIKES DRAWING PRETTY THINGS OKAY

also

the type of person to be cheesy but like

only around you

when you’re in public

and you do something cheesy, 

he fake vomits

but in private,

he’ll be looking for something

“ren, what are you looking for?”

“my will to live”

*turns around and looks at you*

“nevermind, found it”

the first time he said something like this

you were convinced he finally got abducted by aliens

for talking about them so much

that they had to like switch him out with a fake renjun

but no, it was renjun

a very soft renjun

who is now very whipped and comfortable with you

teases you so much tho 

like I’m not saying he would roast you 6 times daily

but that’s exactly what I’m saying

we love a sassy icon

but it’s okay, you do the same 

but will square up whenever someone else does it

even you

“no one makes fun of y/n!”

y/n: haha look at how weird i look in this photo

renjun: square up, sweetheart

talks bout his day with you every night before bed

“so since chenle said the only food that can make him cry are onions, i threw a watermelon at him”

“i told jeno i knew he snuck out last night so he played dumb, a bit too dumb, because his response was “who’s jeno?”...i live with these people...”

“i should have stayed in china”

speaking of china, you ask him to teach you some phrases

and his reaction was 

“me? huang renjun? the man with a never-ending identity crisis?”

he does it anyway

he teaches you so well that you end up speaking Chinese for when you do group activities

“introduce your group in Chinese, please”

*all members look at you*

and he ends up teaching you only bc he’s whipped

you’re the only person who’s allowed to go to the moon with him when he wins the lottery

you walk into him laying on the floor

“lemme guess, you want everyone to disappear?”

“no, you can stay....sicheng can visit on the weekends, but that’s it.”

speaking of wayv, 

they are now your brothers-in-law

they treat you like you’re one big family

bc you are

so like for your bday, 

he only texts you hbd, 

but when he actually sees you, 

he ends up giving you like this one big speech about how lucky he is to have you

you cry

he cries

you both cry

your date nights are decided by rock, paper, scissors

no, i am not joking

whoever wins, gets to pick the movie, the food, so on

so let’s say you hang out with yangyang

you go shopping together

and then you tell renjun about your day 

and he’s like

“let’s not change the subject.”

“what’s the subject?”

“me”

of course he’s jealous

he’s an aries

with a scorpio moon

again, what do you expect

he does however love that you get along with his friends

also, I’m not implying that you have “short king anthem” as his ringtone or anything

but you totally do

because he’s 5 foot something and he indeed is royalty

short king renjun rise

but also have i mentioned you’re the only one who can calm him down

like jeno’s instinct is to call you when renjun gets like extremely sad or angry

you’re there in less than 5

obviously

fuck dance practice

renjun is more important

he does the same for you

i feel like he’d be so good at comforting 

like i can’t explain it

but he just gives the vibe

also i know we talk abt photographer na 

like a lot

but PHOTOGRAPHER HUANG

like he’s so talented in literally everything he does

renjun best boy(friend)

renjun ace

and whenever you compliment him

he gets so flustered

he is now the exact shade of a firetruck

but he will quickly cover it up

with something cocky like

“of course I am, I’m renjun”

to wrap this up, renjun is the best boyfriend and you both know it.

renjun > everyone else

convince me otherwise, I DARE YOU (spoiler: you can’t)

tag list: @soleilchannie​