#also i was lazy to draw my jacket the right way

[randomlychaos]

Me and my messy room that looks more messier in real life.

However, that would be too much coloring and lineart if I drew every energy drink that is in my room right now. ^_^*

I tried drawing in the same art style as Robobarbie, I think their art style is beautiful.

[jobean12-blog]

That's the Way Love Grows

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Beefy!Plant dad!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 1,687

Summary: You and Bucky have your first official date this weekend but he can't wait to see you so he shows up at your apartment on his bike...a dream come true.

Author's Note: Missed him so I wanted to write a little something with plant!dad Bucky again! Hope you all enjoy! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰 You can see the shirt he is wearing HERE.

This is part of my plant!dad Bucky AU. It can be read alone but here are the first two stories for him:

Rooted in Love

Love in Bloom

Warnings: soft and sweet fluff and plant talk

‘Hey doll face. What are you doin’ right now?’

The moment you see his name your whole face lights up just like the screen of your phone.

‘Just being lazy.’  You reply and send him silly emoji’s to go along with your text.

‘Well….’

The next message comes through and you wait, staring at the text bubbles for what feels like an eternity.

‘I’m outside your building.’

You drop your phone and run to the window, pushing the curtain aside and looking through the glass.

He’s leaning against his motorcycle, long legs crossed over the ankle and his leather jacket pulled tightly around his biceps.

His fingers twinkle with a wave.

You open the window.

“You wanna go for a ride?” he yells up.

You stare at him for a beat, trying to sear the image into your brain and then answer back with, “yeah I do!”

You don’t even have to think twice about it.  

He whoops and throws a fist in the air.

“Make sure you wear jeans and a jacket doll.”

A few minutes later you appear at the double doors of your apartment building. Bucky rushes over and pulls one open, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees you.

“You look gorgeous.”

Your thank you is lost when he steps into your space and drags you into his chest, kissing you hard and fast.

“Sorry,” he murmurs when he pulls away.

“For what,” you whisper, leaning into him.

You toy with the zipper of his leather jacket and then slowly pull it down, spreading the sides open to look at his shirt.

“I had to see if you had another funny plant shirt on,” you giggle.

You smooth your hands over his chest, mostly just so you can feel the hard muscle beneath, but also so you can read the print on the fabric better.

“Things I do in my spare time…” you start. “Water plants,” and you press your finger to the first picture of a potted plant on his shirt. “Repot plants, propagate plants, buy plants, rearrange plants…” Each time you read it’s with a press of your finger and as you get closer to his abs he starts to laugh.

“I’m kinda ticklish,” he admits.

You pay him no mind and take extra care to wiggle your finger over the last picture and it’s text.  

“Talk with plants,” you finish with a smile. “That one is my favorite.”

He smirks and slides his arm across your shoulders, walking you toward his bike.

“Speaking of plants…” he hums. “There’s something I…”

As you get closer to the motorcycle you press a hand to his chest to stop him.

“Wait.”

Your words make him swallow hard.

“Our date isn’t until Saturday,” you say quietly. “Are we still on…or?”

His brows draw together and he crushes you against him. “Doll…”

He kisses you again, slow and sweet this time but it steals your breath just the same.

“I know we have our date this weekend, but the moment I left your apartment the other day, all I wanted was to see you again. I couldn’t wait any more. So I thought we could go for a ride.”

His confession makes you melt further into him.

“Ok,” you breathe out. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

He takes your hand and pulls you the rest of the way to his bike, holding up a finger as he turns to his saddle bag and opens it.

“I have something for you,” he says.

He takes out a small bag and reaches inside it. When his hand reemerges he’s holding a small potted plant.

Your smile grows as he begins to explain what it is.

“It’s from my jasmine plant. I repotted this piece in one of the cat planters I got from Etsy…thought you would like it.”

He starts to look slightly shy, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand as his eyes fall to the plant.

“Bucky,” you squeal. “It’s amazing! And so cute! I love him!”

“Phew,” he laughs. “And don’t worry I can help you take care of him.”

“Ok good, because I know jasmine smells beautiful and I’d love to have one in my apartment.”

With one more quick kiss he places the plant back in the secure bag.

“Should I bring him up?” you ask. “I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“I always carry my smaller plants on my bike. As long as you position and secure them right, it’s fine.”

With a lopsided grin he kisses your cheek then grabs his helmet.

Lifting it up he carefully places it on your head and buckles the chin strap.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” he answers. “I won’t go too fast.”

With that he grabs the zipper of your jacket and pulls it up to your chin then throws one leg over his bike with an easy swing.

He holds his hand out to help you on the back and you immediately wrap your arms around his chest and press yourself into his back.

“Hang on,” he says, “and if anything is wrong just give me two squeezes.”

You nod into the soft leather of his jacket and hang on tight.

He revs the engine and pulls away from the curb, being mindful about his speed and remembering that you’re putting full trust in him to keep you safe.

He’s in complete control and the ride is smooth as he traverses the curves of the streets until the Brooklyn Bridge lights up the night sky as it comes into view.

The smell of salty air hits your face as you get nearer to the ocean and when he slows down and rolls into a darkened spot under the bridge you can hear the water break against the rocks.

He shuts the engine and plants his feet on either side of the bike and then reaches down to tap your leg, signaling you to get off.

With careful movements you put one foot on the ground and do an awkward hop to get your other leg up and over the seat without hitting him in the back.

You manage not to hit him but your legs are slightly wobbly, still vibrating from the ride and your knee buckles.

“Eeeek,” you screech, the sound echoing under the bridge and causing some hidden pigeons to squawk and flap away to a safer spot.

Your fists grab handfuls of air but Bucky somehow manages to dive and catch you around the waist with his metal arm.

“You okay?” he asks, his grip tight.

He waits, staring at you with concern in his eyes.

“I’m good,” you say on an exhale.

He relaxes slightly and releases you to adjust the handlebars and put down the kickstand. Once the bike is secured he gets off gracefully and helps you out of his helmet.

You look around and smile. “This is an amazing spot.”

“Isn’t it,” he echoes. “Just lemme get a blanket.”

He opens the saddle bag and sifts through it.

“Can you please check if my plant is ok?” you ask, smiling sweetly when he winks at you.

“Just fine doll,” he tells you after he shines his phone light into the bag. “Now come ‘ere.”

He takes your hand and leads you over to a clearing closer to edge of the water.

“Careful here, watch your step.”

He assures your footing with a firm hand at your back and once you’re settled on the blanket he follows and makes himself comfortable.

“Thank you for comin’ with me tonight doll.”

“Thank you for asking me. It’s beautiful here.”

You look out over the water, the city lights shining like diamonds across the vast blackness and dancing along the small waves.

“Yeah it really is,” he murmurs.

You can feel his eyes on you and realize that he’s complimenting you instead of the stellar view.

A small laugh bubbles up in your chest. “Have you used that move before?”

He drops his chin to his chest and chuckles. “Aw man. I haven’t but it’s that bad huh?”

You run your fingers along a strand of hair that’s fallen in front of his face before tucking it behind his ear.

“Not bad at all. In fact I think you’re really sweet.”

His eyes bore into yours. “I think you’re perfect.”

His hand reaches out to trace your lips, the pad of his thumb rough against their softness and once he’s relished in their flawlessness he slides his hand along your jaw to cup the back of your neck.

The small space between you disappears and you press your lips to his. Your hands weave into his hair and you gasp out his name, the sound igniting him. His tongue slips past your lips but he takes his time, teasing and nipping even as he tastes you.

He pulls you closer, sliding you into his lap and smoothing his free hand up your back.

The shock of bright lights shines through your closed eyelids and you jump in surprise, breaking the kiss. You lay your hand over your squinting eyes as Bucky looks over his shoulder, hissing at the brightness.

The car stops for a moment, the headlights boring into your small hidden space, and then thankfully it turns back to the street and drives off, returning you once again to the quiet of the night and the sounds of the ocean.

Bucky turns back to you, your eyes meeting.

“Hey,” he whispers as he traces the curve of your jaw.

“Hi,” you answer before peppering his scruffy cheek with kisses.

When your gaze finds his again he asks, “will you watch the sunrise with me?”

You nod and then wrap your arms around his neck, snuggling against his shoulder and breathing him in. A breeze blows over the water, carrying the chill of night and you shiver in his arms. He tucks you closer and grabs the blanket to wrap it around you both.

“I promise I’ll keep you warm,” he whispers as his head dips and he brushes his lips to yours.

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989 @lizette50 @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 16

Jason Todd + leather or Latex

I had like, no ideas what to do with this prompt ngl, so I just kinda went with whatever came to me when writing.

Crime lord Red Hood has always had a special place in my heart

Kinktober 2023 masterlist.

Working for The Red Hood wasn’t too bad, especially compared to the other rogues you’d had to work for in the past. With Hood you didn’t have to fear suddenly being shot because Two-face suddenly felt like it, or being eaten by whatever plants Ivy had conjured up, or answering whatever riddles the Riddler came up with that day.

Best part was probably the uniform though. All rogues put their people in specific clothes. For the joker it was clown masks and all that junk, Riddler wanted you in stuff with question mark print, penguin wanted you well dressed in suit and tie, the list went on. For Hood just wearing red seemed to be enough. Most seemed to just resort to wearing a red hoodie under their jacket, and that was enough.

Interestingly enough, working for Hood also came with some benefits, like being allowed to keep stuff from different conflicts as long as it didn’t cause issues for Hood. That was where you found your first leather, some rich guy from Metropolis tried to set up in Gotham and was quickly dealt with. If Gotham hated anyone more than each other, it was outsiders trying to barge in and make a name for themselves.

The guy had been wearing a sturdy but not too flashy leather jacket, so after checking the pockets and for bullet holes and seeing it in one piece, you tucked it over your arm and brought it home. You had to cut the tags out and changed the inner fabric to something cheaper, and most importantly, into something red, but the quality was no lie.

You realized you might have had a thing for Leather one night when you had needed to go out for some small run for Hood, and you’d been too tired and lazy to put on a shirt. You ended up going out in a pair of low waisted denim pants, some well worn boots, and your jacket. No one batted an eye, at all, seeing a shirtless guy was far from the weirdest shit in Gotham, but the feel of leather on your skin seemed to have lit something inside you.

After that you might have subconsciously started looking for the stuff whenever you went on raids or into fights for Hood and his territory. Who cared if you stole some hotshot from star cities leather west and hat, or that guy from Texas whose black leather boots you stole right off his feet. You didn’t touch the pants though, even though you really really wanted too, you just didn’t trust them not to be contaminated by all kinds of junk.

You honestly thought you hid it pretty well, your draw to leather that is. Everyone had their thing, and you always wearing your jacket and boots was just something you did. If you went home to get dressed all the way down to just your jacket and boots though to jerk off was another thing entirely.

But it seemed your draw to the last targets pants hadn’t gone fully unnoticed by your boss. Imagine your surprise when he shoved a package into your arms one night and told you to only check it when you got home, the modulator of his helmet making him seem way more serious than he probably was.

You wouldn’t say you were outright friends with Hood, no one could really be friends with their boss in the criminal world, but you cracked jokes with the guy and even got him to laugh on the regular. You patched him up when he needed it, and he dragged you to Leslie’s clinic when you got knocked around a bit too hard, which happened more than you liked to admit.

When you got home you had almost assumed that the package would hold weapons or maybe even drugs, even though Hood didn’t personally deal the stuff. But instead, you found what you immediately noticed was leather, a card placed on top of the neatly folded leather. The letter was in Hoods writing, and you felt your face heat up a tad at the words on the page.

“Next time just let me buy it for you instead of stealing it off bodies” it said, and when you unfolded the leather, you felt your insides flutter. It was pants, they seemed even better quality than the ones you had been eying the night before. But it wasn’t just pants, there was a newer jacket, it was brown and heavy and was very well worn, and when you held it out in front of you, you could see it was one of Hoods own jackets.

You could feel blood running downwards, leaving you fumbling with your clothes as you got undressed, feeling almost desperate to pull the pants up your legs and hips. They were tight, but not too tight, and there was no question about the quality. Your original jacket fell to the ground with a heavy thud, your fingers quickly grabbing the heavy well-loved leather of the brown jacket and pulling it on, a shaky breath leaving you as the smell that was so clearly Hood filled your senses.

It smelled like leather, gun oil, the cigarettes he smoked when he was annoyed or on edge, and something undeniably Hood, and it had you tenting your new pants. Or tenting as well as one could in leather, which meant it was more a visible bulge running down the inside of your thigh. It had felt so good on your skin that you had found yourself grinding against your hand on your couch like some inexperienced fool. Your back had arched off the couch as you stained the inside of your pants, the leather growing slick against you as you groaned.

It was only later when cleaning the leather that you noticed the writing in the waistband, near the back so it would sit near the bottom of your spine. “Red Hood” it said, like some kind of statement of ownership, and you had shivered and exhaled shakily, rubbing a hand over your face to dispel the thoughts it awoke in your body.

Next time you saw Hood you had worn the pants, but the jacket was left at home. The worn jacket didn’t go well with the newer shinier leather of the pants, so it was your normal jacket and boots, which had some of your friends joke a bit about you being some kind of leather daddy because of your interest in the stuff. You had let the jokes run off your back, joking along every now and then.

You hadn’t even noticed Hood being there until he had appeared behind you, his gloved hand grabbing your ass and giving it a squeeze. Youd almost snapped around and decked him, assuming it was someone else, that was until you heard his modulated voice. “You’re wearing my gift. You like it?” he purred obviously enough that you could hear it even through the voice changer.

You could feel your skin growing clammy as you gave a small nod, not even daring to look at hood as he pressed his crotch against your back, his erection obvious even through all your shared layers. “Good, you look so hot in it” he rumbled, giving your thighs an extra squeeze before he stepped back and wandered off, leaving you unsteady on your feet as you tried to force the obvious hard shape in your pants away, for once cursing how tight they were.

It continued on this way for a while, Hood leaving you presents, and you would wear them around his headquarters. It was never expensive or high quality enough for anyone to target you, but Hood seemed to enjoy it very much. It felt almost like having a sugar daddy or some kind, but he had never demanded much sugar, only grabbing your ass at times, or rubbing his hands up and down your torso that time you’d worn a leather shirt under your jacket.

He was a tease, and you could hear the shit eating grin through his helmet as you ground against his thick thigh one day. You felt so wound up from his lingering touches that you had found yourself in his office one day, or what you guys called his office anyways. Maybe you wanted a fight of some kind, you weren’t sure, but one thing led to another, and you pinned up against the wall, his thigh between your own.

And now you were grinding against his thigh like some kind of pervert, your fingers digging into the worn leather of his jacket as you gasped into his shoulder. You didn’t even notice as he pulled off his gloves or spat on his fingers, it was only when one of his hands was shoved down the back of your leather pants and between your cheeks that you realised. A groan left you as he rubbed the pad of his finger against your pucker, his voice cocky as he asked if this was what you wanted.

You tried to glare at him, but it only seemed to fuel him more as Hood pushed his finger inside, letting you adjust before he started moving to the best of his ability, your tight pants not leaving much room to move his wrist. The stimulation was driving you crazy, the tight leather of your pants doing nothing to lessen the experience as you ground forwards into his thigh, before you pushed back onto his hand.

Running your hands down his torso and up his shirt, you could keep the moan from leaving you as you felt something too smooth and slick to be leather. It was Latex, he was wearing a latex shirt under everything else, maybe it was even a full body thing as it continued as you thumbed at the waistband of his pants.

Your exploring just seemed to fuel him more as Hood added not just a second but a third finger at the same time, letting you just barely adjust to the stretch before he started moving his hand once more, causing you to grind harder against his thigh.

It was impossible to fight back the orgasm that rocked through you, thoroughly slicking up the crotch area of your leather pants as there was no fabric to soak it up, letting it splatter against your thighs and lower body. You could feel yourself twitch a bit as Hood removed his fingers, instead grabbing onto your hips and lifting you up, making your legs wrap around his waist.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to ask what he was up too as he walked backwards, plopping down on his chair with you in his lap, sighing softly as he started rubbing his hands up your torso, flicking your chest through the leather shirt you had chosen to wear. “You alright baby?” he asked, voice warm and caring, leaving you feeling all types of mushy.

You just scoffed and leaned forwards, resting against his broad shoulders and coiling your arms around him. Hood rubbed your back for a while before rolling his chair close to his desk, the taping of keys letting you know he was working on one thing or the other. In the end you found yourself with both your hands up his shirt, rubbing at his latex covered torso as you rocked lazily against his thigh, no hurry in your movements as you knew you had all night, and it would happen soon if the twitching bulge between Hoods thighs meant anything.

[unbizzarre]

Barrayaran Uniforms

My laptop’s still broken so it’s been a messing-around-with-gouache-paint weekend! I always draw too small so doing the deatails on this one was rough! 😫

Modern imperial dress greens on the left, and an attempt at vorkosigan house livery on the right (I don’t love how the vorkosigan house one turned out so I’m probably gonna rework it some more before adding anything to the ol’ headcannon)

NOTES ON IMPERIAL DRESS GREENS

-book mentions stiff high uncomfortable collars, forest green color, riding boots and side piping. There should also be two ceremonial swords but I got lazy

- I wanted to put an emphasis on embroidery and hand details in barrayaran fashion in general so I picked side piping a little more intricate and ornate than just a simple stripe

- originally I was put piping across the front like in the reference, but it got too busy and I wanted the chest to be a little simpler that way medals and other stuff would stand out better against the fabric. Plus having fewer fiddly bits helps it feel more sleek and less out of place in space.

Reference photos:

UNIFORM OVER TIME

- Barrayar as a setting has had to basically speedrun 600 years of fashion history as they make the leap from midieval to space-age in a single generation. In order to show the shift in eras I made a little timeline(ish) of the general changes in the uniform silhouette.

- biggest change in the general silhouette is the gradual shortening of the coat/shirt element from calf lengths tabards to thigh length coats to to waist height jackets

- armor and chainmail fall by the wayside, and guns are picked up. Early occupation uniforms eclectic and a hodgepodge of old midieval weaponry + stolen cetegandan ordenance. They are not uniform at all as the barrayaran military is mostly small gorilla outfits with each fighting force cobbled together from the resources at hand. New Uniformity would come with the return of central government and the implementation of infrastructure for mass production. The uniform would probably stay relatively consistant during the conquest of komarr through the pretendership. Another major shift in in uniform style would probably occur during the regency or Gregor’s coronation in reflection of the successful regime change and the continued push towards a more modern barrayar

Here’s some rough outlines:

Reference Collages from photocopies of a fashion history book I picked up from the library a while back. Don’t remember the title. Will edit post when I do Left is Russia (not sure which century). Right is references for occupation fighters pulled from various pages, time periods, and nationalities (Russia, Mongolia, Crete and turkey maybe? Idk) I wrote all the page numbers down on the collage but I returned the book so now they’re useless.

Thanks for reading!

[punk-in-docs]

🕷️ Vanilla Tobacco 🕷️

Eddie Munson x Reader

10.9k words

Summary: Based on one of my favourite Eloise songs- this pure mush but please believe me on the life of my dog, the next piece to follow this with smut is coming in so fast I may get whiplash- watch out- also

Thank-youuuu all of you for being such angels and commenting on my stuff all the time it’s honestly amazing. I know I’m a lazy bum and I need to reply to your astounding comments. But pls know I do see each one and it’s just what makes this all so worthwhile to see how much you all love Eddie X Pencils.

Your morning had been hell on wheels.

You slept through your alarm. Stubbed your toe stumbling out of bed in your rush to get dressed. Burnt your tongue on your too hot coffee. Ended up being late for home room. And now you’ve been lumped with an art essay. Perfect.

Self directed. Six thousand words on a particular art movement of your choice. Which somehow made it even harder to pick-

It’s pokey glass shards stabbing into the already festering wound in your side that was your day.

This would mean you’d be surrendering your lunchtime to this honey of a new project which was due in a week. If you got the books and notes gathered for it now, it would be a great help and a load off further down the line.

You trudge out of class, and back down to the hallway to your locker, with an armful of textbooks and sketchbook. A free period now that you’d spend the entirety of in the library.

In the absence of a certain jingly jacketed, metal head, the music you’ve got blasting through walkman headphones right now, is the only soothing thing that’s helping your scratchy mood stay buoyant.

Well. That and one other salient thing-

You can’t help but draw your thoughts back to yours and Eddie’s movie night. That memory certainly lifts and delights. Wraps up your stomach like being bound in sunny butter-yellow silk.

Being tangled up on Eddie’s terrible scratchy orange couch with wandering hands, seeking more, and so much making out it was like you were kissing each other’s lips raw. Seeing Eddie with those beautiful lips all bitten pink certainly tugged on your guts in the most horny way.

You devoured the pizza together, and he’d tasted like hoppy lite beer and salty pepperoni - licking the greasy cheese mess of it off the corner of your lips. Smiling with oily pizza grease fingers gripping your chin.

You’d laughed so much your ribs hurt. Prodded fun at the gore of his selected horror movies - awed by his taste too. Agreed on the worst and best parts of grainy black and white eerie tones of night of the living dead. The ham acting. The swelling suspense.

He’d grinned with the way you’d squirmed and jiggled and scrunched up your feet in unease at the bit in Nightmare on Elm Street. When Tina grabs Freddy’s face and the whole thing slips into her hand in a bloody rubbery landslide, revealing raw teeth and bulging eyes, scarlet black chasm of a nose.

I love this movie. But I freakin’ hate that bit.

Eddie curls around you tighter. Beaming. Chuckling dryly. Ringed fingers splaying over your hip. Nose nestled in the back of your neck.

Squeamish much, pencils?

Shut up

You both watch as Tina cups at the four claw marks in her stomach as she’s tumbled around the bed and jerked up to the ceiling. Crawling sticky blood up the flowery walls.

You hide again with an ‘Ick.’ Which prompts you to twist around and face him. You don’t do well with blood.

He very kindly lets you shield your eyes behind his hand. Rings warm on your skin.

Freddy’ll have to get through me first. Don’t you worry.

I’ll never let you sleep again, Munson. I will blast the loudest Motörhead in your ears. Okay?

Okay sweets. He winked.

You’d flown into swooning bits at the recollection of how you’d spent a great deal of time on that date, horizontal with Eddie’s warm nose buried deep in your neck. Or his tongue in your mouth. Spit wet lips, hoppy beer breath, and grinding hormones.

Later, much later, after two beers, his teeth and lips were plucking hickie’s at your collarbones and under your jaw. Mainly to distract you from Wes Cravens gore. But, funny how even when the movie ended, neither of you seemed to notice.

Too busy scrunching your hands in his messy hair and kissing him back hungrily. His hands smoothing up your back. Your legs curled open over the cradle of his skinny hips. Grinding into the clutch of yours. His hands were blazing hot on your ass where your skirt was rucked up. Fingertips slipping just-so, under the edge of your panties.

Whenever you hummed or moaned it made him smile. Made his hips jerk to yours. You were grinding on each other like this world would end soon. Entirely composed of rutting feel-good hormones for each other.

He pulled back because he was definitely popping a boner in those skinny jeans and you can’t lie either - you’re wet - you’re both very flimsy underwear barriers away from doing some very x-rated things.

He begs you that he doesn’t wanna be cumming in his pants like a ninth grader. You can’t deny with his hips grinding you like that it wouldn’t take much for your orgasm either. But, you both agreed, that for now, you’d keep it to second base.

All bets are off next time though, Pencils.

Deal. You grin back.

He sighed happily, blushed as a matter of fact, as you nudged a kiss under his ear.

You made out and ate and cracked jokes and chatted for what felt like hours. You tired the moon with your talking - and kissing. So much sparky hot kissing it stunned your lips numb.

You’d never get enough of the taste of Eddie. Smoke and beers on his tongue. Fake snap of chemical apple from his shampoo. Some distant lingering cedar and vanilla cologne that was definitely Wayne’s and had definitely been put on to impress you-

Hewalked you out to your car when time came for you to go. Leaving felt like a ripping pain. Like tearing layers of skin away. You kissed for ten minutes before you even managed to fumble blindly behind you for the door. He kissed you up against the door. Next to the door. All over you with your hands sunk and lost in his hair.

Don’t go I’m not done yet. As he cupped your face and waddled you up against the door - again.

Traffics bad this time of night, Pencils. Give it five if I were you.

I’ve heard a really bad storm is closing in.

Every time you levered apart, he was spinning you back with “Okay but how about one more, y’know, for the road…”

Then proceeded to melt you into another thought-stealing kiss.

Made you laugh into it when he palmed your car keys right out your hand whilst you were distracted by his tongue. And fully launched them over his shoulder.

They landed with a jingly thump over his shoulder on the malt brown carpet. He wrapped his arms around your waist even tighter. Muffled your protests onto the silky bed of his tongue. You moaned and curled your arms around him again.

Thinking of Eddie was definitely one part of your day that didn’t suck. That didn’t scrape rock bottom. It actually lifted you off your dragging heels a bit. Laced a spring in your step that you were careful not to let creep out too much around others.

You lose yourself to that, and into the jagged punk carnality, and let it be known Billy Idol’s sneering roar of a voice was a balm to you.

What didn’t help was that when you came to your locker, Linda was stood against it with the nuclear warhead of a mega-bitch that was Carol P.

They’re gaggled close and smirking about something. There should be a cauldron between them for the amount of shit-stirring and poison slinging they do. You’re thankful you can’t hear it. You turn up Rebel Yell just that tad louder.

Carol was the worst when it came to high school hierarchy. Not only an asshole but determined to drag that festering quality out of everything she touches. Withers the people she considers below her like dead leaves. Thought because she was giving blowjobs under the bleachers, and playing spin the bottle since seventh grade, that it somehow made her the epitome of cool.

You think that much like Linda, its just wearing a mask to cover over the craggy potholes and ultimate shallowness of their personality. They turn into mean, bullying people. Dog eat dog world of high school. Eat or be eaten and these are the pedigree girls with shiny hair, sharp teeth and bitchy smiles.

Really they’re just entirely composed of vanity and rot. Shallowness and arrogance entwined.

Linda barely acknowledges your emergence, as you open your locker and swap out an armful your books for the ones in your hands from an earlier class. You kept your headphones on, muffled the world away to rock music.

A hand shoots over your shoulder and annoyingly jerks on your headphones. Tugging them down the back of your head with a clatter. Making your heart flash fast at the jump of it.

You turn with a glare and see Tommy. H jaunt up to his girlfriend. Giving you a stupid grin. Sneering words back at you. “S’up, Pencil neck.”

Pencil Neck. Mother Mary. Those were some of the ingenious little pet names they had picked out for you.

Because you haven’t had sex and you aim for good grades, apparently this makes you worthy of freakdom in their rabid eyes.

Linda purses her lips a little. Smiles like it’s funny, them calling you that.

Carol barks out her shitty grating laughter. Tilts her head at you and those loose Farah Fawcett auburn curls dance around her snarky face. Popping neon pink gum and looking sly.

Tommy loops his arm around her neck. They stand and eye you like you’re something amusing. Freak show in town. Roll up for tickets.

“Original.” You bite back as you reach for your books.

“Ooh.” Tommy chirps at you. “Not in a friendly mood, are we.”

“My tolerance for vitriolic jackasses is limited.” You narrow your eyes at the pair of them.

You detest the way Carol scans you up and down. Judging your hand me down plaid, jeans and sneakers like you got them from a yard sale. Thinking you’re cheap trash, with a trampy single mom.

Just cause her manicured and caustic mother was the sales rep for a big cosmetic company, and she lives on the gleaming streets of Loch Nora, that it made her perfectly able to peer down her nose at the lower echelons.

She pops her gum with a snap looking at you. Then doesn’t even deign to pay you any attention. Looks towards Linda. A decided bitchy ally.

“You’re coming to the house party at Josh’s tonight, right, Martelli?” She grins as she chews loudly. Wet gummy clicks that get on your nerves. Raking an annoying knife up your spine.

You turn to your locker and ignore the bunch of cognoscenti assholes. You were ashamed to say that included your once fond friend among them.

“Sure I’ll be there.” Linda shrugs like it isn’t a golden gilded invitation handed over, direct from the Queen Bee herself.

“You’re gonna bring Jonny right?” Carol leers. Smile filthy. Like she wants to be the one sucking face with him, as opposed to her own boyfriend currently slung off her shoulder.

“If he can sneak out. His dads being a real dick at the moment.” Linda tells with a glum pouty tone.

“Sneak him out. It’ll be so fun. We got tonnes of beer. There’s bound to be some wet n’ wild fun in the pool.” She grinned all bright and naughty. Sticking her tongue out.

House party on a Tuesday night. These dicks really had nothing better to do than suck face, trash the place, or hump. Make a mess like silver back gorillas parading around in the zoo in their natural habitat.

Tommy decided to drag you back into this razor blade and lemon juice studded conversation. Oh joys.

“Probably not Pencil neck’s kinda evening.” He pouts sticking his lower lip out.

“She’s gotta be back in her convent by 9. Wimple on. Back home with her trampy mom like a good little girl.” Carol mocks in laughing. It’s shrill. Brings to mind a hyena.

Somewhere along the line, the fact your mom was mostly absent and single had become the butt of a joke to these people. Because you don’t live on Maple Street or dress like a Pat Benatar wannabe. You defend your ground in your paint spattered clothes, tatty jeans, and oversized hand-me-down plaid from Charlie, and tees from the goodwill.

It stung like acid each time they swiped and spit nasty words aimed at your mom. Needles pushed under your skin when they sniped their mockery.

You rose above it and grit your teeth. Even though it made you want to start swinging clenched fists. Real tempting to shove the wrong end of your paintbrush in carols stupid eye some days. Splat paint on her expensive jacket or jeans. Knock the books out her hands for once. The dream.

Tommy chuckles along. Carol loves pushing your buttons. It’s her defining character trait. Slamming down on them til they crack into spiderwebs like broken porcelain. It’s all she does best.

“I’m amazed you manage to walk like that what with your head being all the way up your ass.” You slam your locker and turn to talk to a very silent Linda.

“See you after third.” You offer blithely. She barely meets your eyes. Doesn’t answer. She shrinks down. Dumbly clings to her own silent cowardice. Shoves her hands in her pockets and looks at a scuff on her shiny white cavalier boots.

“Got bible studies?” Tommy jumps in quick to say.

You roll your eyes over, let his comment go unmatched. You didn’t have the energy for these two.

You heft your books into your arms and walk away. You hear their laughter and more snideness rips it’s razors at your back as you leave. More insults you don’t care to listen too.

You blast more Billy to blot them out. Forget about their stupidity as you head to the library. You hate the way they slide under your skin like it’s nothing.

You push through the doors and pad through the winding warren of the shelves. Thick carpet tiles muffled your steps. The overly harsh lighting almost buzzed above you. Students hunched hushed over tables, or scanning the stacks. A low thrum of noise and activity compared to the teaming hallways.

It’s a soothe for you. A harbour for you to switch your brain into a slow gear, push it into focusing on something else.

You find a table and set out your books and sketchbooks. Loop your bag on the back of the chair and get scouring through the arts section. You find a stack and pile it against your chest. Take them to your table and hunch over a legal pad. Madly brainstorming ideas for what you wanted to pick.

You settle and let the onslaught of your morning grow quiet. Meld as one into pages and passages. Art Nouveau with its goddesses, natural flowing forms and it’s mimicry of flowers under arched curves. The limpid neon minimalism of Dan Flavin and his light installations. Hockney and his searing blue pool paintings.

There’s so many influences crashing through your head. You skip from book to book. Unable to decide. Tapping the end of your pen against your chin. Raking hands through your lose hair.

You’re curled over a punk art book, looking at the ripped Jamie Reid images, jagged text and rude political satire sprayed and bastardised with paint drips, when something soft hits you on the side of your head, grazing by, and skittering down to your desk. Bouncing off your hand.

You twist back in your seat. Bewildered. Scanning the stacks and there’s nothing save for the usual soft footed librarians drifting around, with their glasses chains, sensible skirts, and hushed voices. The same few quiet kids sat at their tables, dotted around. Unmoved.

You frown and turn back around to the crumpled paper. You smooth it out and make out the chicken scratched words etched there. It was a note.

A love note. Etched in Violet sharpie. It sets a blaze in your chest.

Hey sweet cheeks. You look hot hitting the books. Making me jealous that they’ve got your undivided attention.

Signed it with an E with little sprouting devil horns coming off the top - as if he really needed to identify himself.

You smile when you suddenly feel the tickle of long dry hair feathering it’s tips at the back of your neck. Ringed hands drape for your shoulders. Cold rings even through your worn flannel. Smoke comes with him. Fresh too. He’d just had a cig break you’d guess. Reds curled new on cold leather and carried along with apple.

How was it the worlds nosiest metal-head with his jangly wallet chain and apparently limitless racket, could sneak up on you in absolute silence.

Materialising out of nowhere, like a suddenly gathering storm. Subtle as an earthquake. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head. Inhaled deep like he was trying to drag you in via his mouth alone.

“There’s my little bookworm.” He hushes. Voice all trying-to-be-low and hissing. Rumbling down on your skull. Nuzzling his nose to your hair. Coconut. That Amber and Lavender perfume of yours. Clean luminosity of honeyed notes, and the plain spice of hearty lavender that drifts off you.

It’s dizzying. Consuming. He’s missed it the way a man could miss food and water.

“You threw paper at my head.” You faked mild insult.

Eddie leans up on his sneaker tip toes to peer over your head and catch onto the book that has you so engrossed.

“You looked very invested. How else was I supposed to get your attention.” Comes a clever curl of a grin.

It makes little flecks of gold stars shine and shimmer in those inky eyes.

His hand that landed heavy with a whump on your shoulder, curled up a knuckle and played with an idle curl of your hair. Cool fingers leaving sparks where he touched the nape of your neck.

“What are you doing in here, anyway? You know this is a library don’t you.” You tease him. Rotating in your seat. Gazing up at him. “Books. Studying.”

“Mistook it for something else. Won’t make that error twice.” He tells with that signature clever grin.

“Although it does have you in here, so I automatically like it very much, indeed.” He preens.

Your smile makes his spine slope into fuzziness and tingle all warm. Where his hand is on your shoulder, you edge and curl your fingers over his own. Lacing them through.

He wasn’t gonna be a complete letch and admire the way the twist of your body gaped the buttons of that oversized green and navy plaid you wore. Teased him with the silky valley of skin running downwards from your collarbones. Sternum. Bra. Tits. Your tits.

Okay he wasn’t gonna look, but he’s certainly thinking about it.

Those sweet slips of collarbones he’d been sucking and mouthing for eons long just the other night and was that-

That’s a hickie on your neck. From him.

His stomach trips and crashes into feral frenzy knowing he’s the one to have placed it there, in a rabid fit of horny hormones. Horizontal on his couch with hands all stuffed in tops or jeans, roaming in places that felt so so good.

Tongues fat with kissing and mouths smashing together, raw. Charred bodies grinding. Your fingers edging his stiff jeans zipper. His squeezing your tits through your top. Delightful touches that burned bliss through you like biting electric bolts. The muggy heat of breath on lips.

“That big beautiful brain of yours at capacity yet?” He asks. Swaying into the back of your creaking hard chair.

“I’ve yet to hear a pinging noise indicating it’s full.” You decided. Tapping your pencil down on your book.

“Can my bookworm take a break?” Eddie asks with a conspiratorial looking grin. You tip your head back and meet his gaze.

That ‘my’ warms your belly right though like bad cheap whiskey.

“Why would that be?” You ask cheekily. All lowering your lashes and peering all coquettish.

“Cause if you’re not at capacity yet. I think there’s a little more to learn.” He teases and his smile is all dirty dimples and schoolboy cheek.

He whirls back from your chair and pauses at the walkway between two bookcases. It hooks a smile right out of you when you watch him jerk his head in that particular, enclosed, direction.

Your smile grows, crawls across your lips and you keep your butt planted in your seat. “Gee. I don’t think I know what you’re getting at.”

“Need me to spell it out for you?” He asks with narrowed eyes and a wide wide grin.

You lean in said chair and cast your eyes towards the librarians. Who coincidentally have their backs turned to you. One at the desk, the other helping a freshman locate a physics book.

“I don’t know. Maybe if you could find it in book form and read it to me.” You rile. Poking him with a stick.

“Sure. Where’s that Biology section at.” He leans in and bites his lower lip and grips your sleeve. He doesn’t grip your skin with his rings. Worried they’d dig. Even when riled he’s still gentle.

Scrunching up his nose all silly as he’s yanking you out the chair. You laugh softly as you swing off the thing and slink after him.

You both pad silently down the row of bookcases. Eddie tugs you along to the end. Nestled into the crook with paper spines and a shelf digging in your back. The touch on your sleeve travels up your arm, he’s holding your forearm and then impressively smooth, he’s cupping your hip. Slings a finger in your jean belt loop - keeping you tethered to him.

“You going to reinforce a lesson for me. Munson?” You ask.

You rest your hands on his t-shirt. The almost threadbare black sabbath one that you could barely read the scratchy logo on it anymore. It’s almost flaked away. All that’s left is this beaten old black tee that hangs softly in creases off him.

“Yup.” And he pops the P. Staring at your lips. Thumb rubbing soothing circles on your worn plaid stomach. Soft aged flannel. “Gonna reinforce my brains out.” He decides.

“They say repetition is the best way to learn.” He adds. Flirty brow raised. Body flush to yours. Wrapping you in leather smoke and apples.

“And please don’t go hurting yourself on my account. I won’t allow it.” You say as you smooth a hand over the crazy hair beside his jaw. Stroking your fingers under that handsome cut of a jawbone.

You feel his nearness like a gut punch. Every damn time. Has you squirming in every single good way you can muster. This crush blazes so fiery strong. It’s swallowed you whole whilst you weren’t looking. You were too busy watching him smile.

You tip to him. Tilt to him. Up on your toes. Arms going for his neck. Circling around as his hands smooth across your belt loops and cup your hips. He rolls your bottom lip between his. Sucks you into this sloppy kiss as his hands cup you sacredly.

The moment you’ve both been longing for.

You’d never grow tired of kisses like these ones. It left a chasm when you pulled away from his lips on your date. And now again, finally, it’s like a cool clear sip of spring blue water after years of thirst.

Eddie nibbles your lower lip and it draws an unexpected squeak out of you. Plush and tongue and molten. He pulls back and his spit shiny smile liquifies your insides. Warm air puffs over your lips. “Careful pencils. Gotta keep it on the down low in here.”

You half heartedly whack at his chest with an open hand.

He sways with it. Sways into you. Barely noticed your nudge. He catches it with his own fingers, twining into yours. Through yours. Knuckles slot together. Fused. Your hand in his. He brings it up and rests your hand on his neck.

Drunk hazy eyes cast all whiskey puddle brown in yours. Soft as butter and he melts into you again. Nose brushing alongside yours. You taste like the fruity sour bite of chapstick and he’ll definitely chase some more of that fake nectar sweetness, thank you very much.

“How can I be expected to keep quiet when you kiss me like that?” You ask. Tilting in again, legs knocking into his as you press your lips to his in a slow smooch. Long, languid. Taking the kiss off his slanted mouth, honey smooth.

Your hand follows his lead. You cup his soft neck. Thumb brushing the join of his jaw. His hands rearrange themselves. Wandering to settle neatly. One bunching an arm around your waist. The other cups your head. Tilts your mouth to him so he can take and take and unleash on you more of these amazing, demanding kisses.

You should be caring how loud your making out is. Sloppy mouth sounds and little grunts he makes mixed with the thrill of your moans. It rises just a little above the din of the buzzing lights and the swipe of book pages being leafed over.

When you part again you gasp for breath and your knees are stunned into weakness. Your bodies are so close it’s pretty damn evident that soon you’ll be making noises you cannot hide in the whisper quiet library.

It didn’t help that the swelling hunger for more is prodding between your legs. As urgently as his own must be in those tight jeans. Every kiss is laced with a hunger that could proceed sex if you let it.

You really want to let it. You’re so ready to let it.

You exhale onto each other lips when you next part and take a huge pull of breath. Warm whispers sealed to mouths. Bodies tangled. Sure a book was jamming your spine, and the shelf behind you was not exactly sturdy. It didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered that wasn’t Eddie’s kiss bruised mouth aligned on yours.

“We should probably have another one of those date things soon. Don’t you think?” You ask. Fingers sneaking to his cheek to just touch his skin. A little stubbled.

“You reckon?” He smiles all slanted. Eyes twin honeycomb suns. You stare, stuck into them.

You’ve never seen such warmth leak out those expressively deep carob-eyes. You look at the entirely too long flick of his lashes: the raw pinkness of his cushiony lips. Entirely unfair how he was so pretty. It should be outlawed for a boy to look this pretty when kissed.

Really it was a danger to your health. Your school work would certainly suffer. Your essay sat screeching to be started from your desk.

“I really reckon.” You nod. Eddie swoops in and smooched a boyish charming peck onto your mouth almost in thanks. Pulls back from you with a wet smack.

“If you didn’t say it, I was gonna have to insist.” He teases. Stretches out the last word to almost a hiss so you know he means business.

You bite your lip. “Ok Mr. forceful. What did you have in mind?” You smile. Leaving your arms around his neck. To not touch him would be a stinging agony.

“Anything. So long as we can do this for a good 95 - 98% of the evening. I’m willing to negotiate on the exact percentage.” He asks. “But I would ask you wear that chapstick again.” He requests, no holds barred on the flirt, nudges his lips sweetly to yours.

The flick of his tongue on your lower lip makes your brain twirl and cloud. So naughty.

You kiss him quick. Yank his jacket. Pull back to speak which he pouts at you a little for.

“We could go see a Movie. Go to the arcade. Get ice cream. Go to the old quarry and 420 blaze it, and stargaze. The options are endless.” You say as your fingers find his and twist through. Knuckles stroking those worn metal rings.

“Arcade sounds good. Ice cream is a must.” He says, a little reticent. No one has ever asked him on a date. Much less delved into what he actually wanted to do on said date.

“Arcade and Ice cream it is.” You fix with a grin. “You’re easy to please.”

“Yeah but when it comes to ice cream toppings I’m very picky.” He sneaks forwards and kisses under your jaw.

You have to bite your lip cause he knows how it weakens you. Your gasp from the other night when he slipped his lips all over your jaw is etched interminably in his brain. His tongue traces a hickie he knows only all too well how it got there.

The tip of his nose brushes into anther hickie he’s just given to you. Devil boy. He knows very well what effect it has.

“Whipped cream, Cherries. Lots of cherries, sprinkles. The works.” He whispers all muggy hot into your neck.

“Gotta have cherries. Pencils.” He rasps inbetween heavy plucked kisses on your skin.

You shiver all over with the innuendo. He feels it ripple through you. The way your skin pimples with pleasure that pops, stringing along your veins.

You dig your nails into his hands cause holy shit. Every time you kiss you creep closer and closer to the idea of just slipping your hand inside those ripped jeans and going to town- that barrier of your willpower is being worn paper thin with every caress.

“All the cherries you want, pretty boy. Maybe afterwards we could take a, uh, scenic route up to skull rock and be fools, fooling around.” You smile.

It’s dizzying to him. That idea. Better than Colombia gold spreading all vibrant verdant green and dozy through his lungs.

“I’ll bring the jester hat, Mi’lady.” He flat out grins. It’s borderline Munson manic.

“Perfect evening.” You summarise. Shaking your head and eyeing his lips again.

“Perfect date.” He adds on. Biting his lower lip.

“My god. We’re corny. Even meatloaf would refuse to write a mushy ballad about us right now.” You joke. Hands still looped around his neck. Like hell would you wanna let go.

“Need some help with that essay?” He offers. Closing in for your mouth again.

“Mmhmm need all the help I can get.” You whisper. Barely a brush away from his gorgeous lips.

He kisses you again and it’s stunning. Births a wild jungle of fiery mush and kicked butterflies to rioting life in your belly.

“I promise to be such a huge help. You may not even need those books babe. Don’t you know I’m so brainy it’s unreal.” He wheedles at you.

“I never doubted your big beautiful mind even for a second.” You admit. Holding his chin as you lean in and kiss him solidly once more. Coaxing a lovely sounding whine from the back of his mouth when your tongue swipes his lip.

You drag him back out into the open. He goes - somewhat willingly.

Slips himself into the chair beside yours. Hands splayed over your books as he twirls a pen in his hand as asks you probing and philosophical musings about art.

Cubism. I’m sorry. C’mon? Those guys must’ve been on seriously good pills, man.

How about Constructivism then? You ask.

Gesundheit, pencils.

He scrawls some more devils and live hearts with your name, and leafs through another thick old book. The yellowed pages crack with age.

I got a new twisted sister tape. You should hear it.

I like watching you study. It’s freakin hot. You’re so brainy.

Hey, this chicks kinda neat. She looks like a character from Lord of the Rings or somethin’. He decided as he pawed over an Alphonse Mucha picture.

My favourite too. I love the way he uses colour. It’s dreamy.

You’re dreamy.

He laughs when you bite your lip and look bashful.

He will not stop shooting you a flirty smile as he doodles idly on your legal pad. Swirls big loopy letters of ‘I Love Eddie.’ And ‘Hellfire rulez’ and lots of demon faces, and skulls with horns. Lightning bolts and leathery bats.

His restless hands cannot be stilled. He steals a scrunchie from your bag, and it sits looped on his wrist next to his chain bracelet. Lilac borders leather. He makes no intention of giving it back. Magpie manners.

You make a face at him, asking how you’re supposed to tie your hair up for still life class after school.

“I like it loose and wild.” He says as he skims his eyes over your hair. Thumbs a piece back by your ear so sweetly.

You crook a brow. Smile tips lopsided.

He seems to realise that what he said can be taken an alternative way. “Well, no I uh, didn’t mean it like that.”

Your laugh spins his head into adoring craziness.

“Alright. Alright.” He consoles you by picking a W.A.S.P pin out his denim vest and leaning over to stud it into the collar of your plaid. Tongue bitten between his teeth as he concentrates. Fingers brushing your neck. Skin on skin contact leaving kicks and flutters that shoot stars in his wake.

You look down at it. The shiny metal gleaming in the buzzing light. “Okay, that is a worthy consolation.” You offer.

He makes you smile until your cheeks hurt, and you spend more time leaning into him and trying not to laugh too loud over discussing movies, favourite arcade games and music, than you do actually choosing your essay topic.

When the bell rings for next period you actually detest the thought of scurrying away to your Math class. Yet, Equations and trig beckoned.

Eddie walks you out the library. Opens the door all charming, waves a hand to gesture you on through first, like a true gentleman. You thank him and glide past with your books clutched to your chest.

The hallways are bustling but emptying fast. You twist back and tell him you’ll catch him later. Maybe at lunch.

He smiles that wide trouble-stroked grin. Clutched your hand and leaned down all showy to kiss the back of it and shoot you a dirty flirty wink, before he too whirled away.

You smile and it lingers on your lips even as you part. The press of it makes your whole arm come alive. You watch him for a scant moment before walking off down the corridor the opposite way.

You both look back over your shoulders after about five meagre steps away. Eddie gives you a melting grin, you return it. All eyelashes and beaming.

That grin said a lot. Dead giveaway. The hand kiss. The lingering and swirly body movements, not ever wanting to pull apart. Spoke volumes to those who bothered enough to really look and see it.

The feminine flash of a lilac scrunchie on Munson’s wrist. The telltale purple splotches of hickies hiding just below your collar. The heavy metal pin punched through your collar all shiny. Winking like a far off star.

Far enough down the hall that neither of you paid any notice, Jonny Lopez shut his cloud-grey locker door and leaned against it. Lake blue eyes swam cold. Watching the Freak practically skip away.

He saw him kiss your hand. Saw him pull you close by the corner of your plaid, reeling you in, and all warm smiles backed in flirting familiarity. Watched you beam back, and linger to chat a moment. Your hand laid on leather lapel, brushing at his chest.

It didn’t add up. It’s coming out odd to him. You and the Freak? Close? Since when?

He frowned and tugged his backpack on his shoulder.

Strange sight, that.

~

“Okay. Please please please for the love of god and on all things holy, don’t get weird.” You call out to your mom as you trudge down the stairs.

Not yet coming to the bottom but you could hear her rifling around in the fridge. Billy Joel’s Anthony’s song clunking out it’s piano notes from the stereo in the kitchen that she always has on when she makes dinner

Which is a strong term for when she just scrounges and grazes stuff out of there like a jackal. When she’s so dragged by jet-lag, she only has the energy to slam some pop-tarts in the toaster and throw back a beer for an evening meal.

She was most definitely not a baked ziti or a casserole mom. She overcooks tater tots, or survived on boxed mashed potatoes and a can of limp greens with some breaded frozen chicken.

More than once she’s resorted to a bag of chips for her dinner. Now you know how she stays so trim. And it’s true what she says about your older sister Charlie being the cook in the family, cause that trait had seemed to have skipped you and her, altogether.

After long haul flights like these, she’s usually all set to scarf a meal down in dribs and drabs and grab a beer, to fall asleep with, as her TV soaps blare on. More than once you’ve had to rush in and stub a Newport gold out her dead asleep hand. More than once she’s burned holes in the couch. Covered them up with a crocheted blanket.

Right now, she’s humming and tapping her toes as she eats cool whip out the tub with a spoon. Stood there in her indigo bootcut jeans and oversized cable knit sweater that slid off one shoulder. White and fluffy.

“Alright.” She calls back slowly. Digesting your words. “Colour me intrigued…” She turns the music right down for this. For whatever this was-

You round the kitchen doorway. And it becomes obvious.

Your wearing a dress, and the oversized box-back leather jacket that once upon a time, belonged to her. With rhinestones on the back that spelled out ‘rock n roll’ with a flaming skull underneath. You’d paired it with a red dress that clung and a nipping big white leather hoop belt stretched around your middle. Sneakers and white socks on your feet. Silver wet n wild on your eyelids. Liner and mascara. Your hair all fluffed and kinked

“You’ve joined a rock band? I want front row tickets. I like the jacket. Very Joan Jett.” She grins wide. The flash of that pearly perfect smile. No whiff of how it was hers that you’d poached for the evening.

“No.” You explain.

Her eyes pin you down. Widening under her shiny bangs.

“Intrigue.” As she lopsidedly and untidily stuffs more groceries into the fridge.

“Linda is dragging you to a… club? Or another trashy house party?” She asks.

“Wrong, again.”

“Ok, connect some dots for me cause I’m lost here.” She waves her hand at you as she unloaded tubs of ice cream into the freezer. Peanut butter chocolate chip.

“Don’t get weird.” You point a finger at her. She holds her hands up in surrender.

“Well, weird is my wheehouse kid. My basic operating system.”

“Mom.”

“So intense tonight.” She grumbles all chirpy.

“I actually have a date.“ You lay out.

She looks right at you as she lets the fridge door slam shut. Mouth gaping.

“A date?” She checks.

“Are you a parrot now, or what.” You tease.

“Look at you. Hiding your light under a bushel.” She beams. Hands on her hips.

“Boy or girl?” She asks, blinking.

“A boy. Mom.” You offer up. “But thank you for that.” You wave your hand at her.

“Hey. No judgement here babe. A date. My god.” She looks floored. Hand laying on her chest floored.

“Yes.” You respond. “Well. Actually to be honest, It’s kind of our second date. We had a movie night at his place last week.”

“Second date huh.” She waggles her brows at you like a dirty minded frat boy.

“Well, tell me how it goes. You can leave out all the gross- y’know.” Bringing her hand up to her face and making obscene wet kissing, slurping smacking noises. Cooing at you across the kitchen.

“You are four years old.” You narrow your eyes at her. She grins.

“Do you need me to feed you and put you to bed before I go?” You jest tiredly as you walk to the hall. Check your hair yet again in the mirror.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just be sticking my fingers in the electrical sockets and running with scissors here, totally unsupervised.” She jokes. Picking a rogue hair off the back of your jacket.

“Guess I’ll just have to sit on the couch and watch reruns of Golden Girls on my own. Eat sad Beefaroni and be a tragic spinster mom.”

“Do so quietly.” You wave off.

When you move to get your shoes: she follows. You have a shadow, apparently.

“So this booooyyy- honey tell me about the boy.“ She grins all giddy. Leaning against the door and swaying her body like a preeny high school girl.

Like she should be twiddling pigtails with a lollipop in her mouth. Candy saccharine sweet.

“Is he on the team?” She seeks. And then gasps. “Is he gonna give you his letterman jacket if you get cold?” She clasps her hands and her voice teeters all high and romantic-like.

“Yeah. Then he’s taking me and Rizzo to the sock hop in his Studebaker and then onto some racing for pinks.” You joke with her archly.

“My god. You got your penchant for dragging sarcasm from me.” She pointed out. Unhelpfully. Shoving you half heartedly in the shoulder for being smartly rude. Beer now in her other hand as she drapes herself against the kitchen doorway.

“Not a letterman then?” She scrunches up her nose. She knew well of your distastes.

“If he was I wouldn’t be touching him even with gloves on, and ten f oot pole.” You insist as you make sure you’ve got everything in your purse.

“Less Steff McKee, more Duckie. I got it.”

You smile at the way she’s phrased it. Whatever Eddie was he was definitely way more Duckie territory.

“So he’s not a jock, alright. That narrows it down. Is Duckie atleast cute? Or am I gonna have ugly grandchildren.” She asks.

“Mom.” You hiss with skated laughter as you fluff your hair in the mirror. She winced suddenly.

“It’s not Keith from the Arcade is it? Cause he’s always been sweet on you. You went in last time and I swear he was drooling over you in your Talking Heads tee.”

“It’s not Keith.” You answer nicely. You liked Keith, but he could be sleazy, and a catty kind of mean, and had a bigger chip on his shoulder than you when it came to the preps and jocks.

Plus he would literally date any girl with a pulse that breathed his way. Besides, he was way way deep into crushing on Nancy Wheeler territory.

You exhale into the mirror. Wondering if the sweet sheen of lipgloss was too much. If you should rethink these earrings. You’re a mess. It’s all whirling around a stubborn coil of packed nervousness in your stomach. A fever twist.

“What you kiddos getting up too? Something salacious? Gonna knock off a liquor store? Go to Wild biker parties with lots of vomiting and sex?”

“We’re going to the arcade and grabbing some junk food. Sadly, I don’t think I’ll have time to work a teen pregnancy or a vomit sex party into the mix.”

“Now see here, Mama didn’t raise no quitters.” She salutes towards you with her beer before she swigs back a sip. You know she can’t resist delving a little more into the nitty gritty details.

“What’s he like. Your Duckie. Blonde, tall, short, fat, thin, dark, athletic. Is he in the chess club? Is he trouble? Does he have a motorcycle or a criminal record?” She’s tapping your arm with the back of her hand as she keeps thinking of more things to ask you.

“All good if relentless questions.” You temper her rambles. “You may need to cool it with the Pretty in Pink references.” You chuckle.

“Spill spill.” She encourages.

“Less chess club, more DND club.” You tell her. Fiddling with the earrings. Definitely deciding to take them out. Untangling them from your hair.

She’s gets very excitable about that prospect. “Is he nerdy hot…” She gets close and rasps at you all low.

“Yes. The orthodontic headgear from his braces, combined with his pressed slacks, Mmmm, really gets me going.” You lie.

She smiles wider. You’re all snippy sarcasm and fluffing hair and you keep peering past her at the banana yellow cat clock with the wagging tail and rolling eyes in the kitchen.

“You’re nervous.” She hits the nail right on the head. Rubs your arm up and down. Cups your shoulder.

You let out a deep breath. “Correct.” You tell her.

You can’t lie to your mother. She’s a human lie detector when it comes to you. She’ll sniff it out of you like those bomb dogs at the airport. One whiff and she’s all over it.

“You must really like this mystery nerd Huh?” Shecomes over and strokes the hair spilling down the back of your neck.

You meet her gaze. You scrunch your nose with a kinda giddy smile you can’t hide bursts across your face. “I really do.”

“Why haven’t I heard anything about him you sneaky thing… you been holding out on me? I mean, I know my being out the country isn’t conducive to mother-daughter late night talk over a tub of ice cream… but-” She wonders. Idly playing with the bangs framing around your forehead. The soft yellow light from the cheap yellow flicks off the fine French manicure sleekly and pretty pink on her nails.

“Recent development. I haven’t been holding anything back from you. Promise. You’d root it out even if I did. Not to mention the guy turning up on the doorstep would be a big tip off.” You suppose.

“There is that.” She nods. Standing her beer down on the hallway table. Coming up behind you and idly rearranging your hair where you’d mussed it.

“Any pearls of wisdom I need to give you? Do you need the talk again of where babies come from.” She plays around.

Give her ten ways to say something serious and she’d still be clowning around.

That actually makes you laugh. You meet her solid gaze in the mirror. It’s so warm. It’s like sun skating on emeralds. The crinkled corners of the eyes that are entirely more hazel than yours.

You’d always thought she was the pretty exception. Pearly smile. Dazzling eyes. It didn’t help that Charlie got her stunning silky hair and piercing eye colour too. You got the frizz and the freckles and the big hips. The hair that more belonged on a wiry messy dog. That never laid nicely or did as it was told.

“Is my hair bad? I used too much product. It’s too frizzy. ” You wince as you ask her. Faffing with it still around your ears.

“No. Baby. It isn’t.” She tells you softly with a grin that’s circling somewhere proud and awed. She puts her hands on your shoulders.

Growing up she taught you that women didn’t need to be only pretty to get by. She’d remind you how you were stunning in your unique way and it was entirely up to you what way you made it.

When toxic high school mixed with the uncertain churning of puberty, she was there to reinforce the idea that you could be brainy, and take up space, and spit and shout, bare your teeth, and throw punches and be gritty, all that- be a fierce Amazonian of a woman. Be wonder woman. Be a sultry sizzling Marilyn. Be whomever you wanted-

“You gonna let me meet Duckie when he gets here?” She asks.

“Well, actually, I was gonna lock you in the attic.”

Her mouth gapes. Offended. “What, like I’m suddenly a Kennedy.”

“Tough choice when you’re a Kennedy. How do you even chose which one in the family to hide in the attic.” You ask dead serious.

She closes her eyes and exasperatedly makes a fist with one hand.

“Ok, kid, we’re veering off topic here. Can I meet him, please? C’mon I will only say two embarrassing things tops.” She grins. Holding her fingers up to signal the two things.

“Don’t explode all over him with questions. He’s nice.” You promise.

“Baby, he’s dating you. Of course he’s gonna be nice. I like to think I raised you with standards.”

“You did think I was dating a jock up until two minutes ago.” You level at her.

“Touché my sweet.” She holds a finger up and gives you an invisible tally mark.

“No interrogations either.” You add.

“I’ll put my interrogation lamp away. And no explosions. Promise. Internal implosions only.”

“Try not to be- y’know? Your usual level of insane?”

“Why. He’s not here to date me. I shouldn’t have to hide my eccentricity in the comfort of my own home.” She mocks, looking evil.

“Good grief.” You sigh as you double triple safety sure check you’ve got everything in your purse. Candies. Lip smacker. Money. Coin change for the arcade machines. She leans over and peers into your purse

“Condoms are in the bathroom cabinet by the way.” She winks before tipping back more beer.

“Right. No to that.” You snap. “Go get in the attic. Now.” You tell her with no evident humour. Snapping your fingers and pointing up the stairs.

She pokes her tongue out at you in a very mature move.

You twist to the direction of the door when you hear a clunky rumble of something that was definitely a van engine, music all shredding shriek and rock heavy, easing to a stop. And then the thump of a door.

She practically inhaled all the air in the house when Eddie does one of his fumbly music-riff knocks on your front door. Deep Purple, you reckon.

“I think your nerd hath arriveth. Mi’lady.” She beams.

Claps her fingers together in overdone excitement. Trying to gawk through the blurry glass in the front door to make out his general shape.

Fuck. Now this is all so real and your stomach is clenching, doing those gravity defying swoops like it’s trying to take off without you.

You fluff your hair one last time and step to the door across the spongey purple entryway rug. You take a deep breath. Palm clammy and slipping on the doorknob. You twist it open.

Eddie breaks into a sunshine stroked grin the other side when he sees you. It melts you. Makes something inside glow coal hot at the sight of him again.

He’s wearing his jacket with a Van Halen tour tee. Faded wings of an eagle and band name crackled on old wash grey. The usual ensemble of chains and ripped jeans. But you see the new sight of fancy polished combat boots.

Wayne had made him sit his bony butt down for five seconds and polish them before he whirled out the door to come get you.

“A man takes pride in his shoes when taking a young lady out on a date, Edward.” As he gruffly handed him a shoe brush. Gestured with a lit red in the other hand.

Full name. Serious. Scary.

“Listen I need to get going if I’m gonna make it out of the Victorian Era on time.” Eddie sassed. Elbow folded up. Checking his Casio.

Wayne pushed the brush into his hand. Slammed the silver pot down in front of him. The claggy thick smell of polish coming from the well used army tin he had sat on the counter. Face as stoic as an Easter Island head. He wasn’t taking any bull.

“Less cheek. Get buffing.”

“Child labour has been outlawed you know.”

“Not in the Victorian Era it hasn’t.”

Eddie did as his Uncle ordered. Now here he is.

Smelling like cologne, cigarettes and the unmovable sticky tinge of dark boot polish. Hair having had a briefly tangled

liaison with a comb.

He’s chewed gum the whole way here worried about his smoky acrid breath. Piece after piece shoved into his mouth. Sharp spearmint spiking the bed of his tongue. It didn’t settle the squirming worms in his stomach. Nor the tap of his newly polished shoes in fidgeting.

“Hey.” He smiles. Nervously tucking his hands in his back pocket. His jacket jangles. The chain around his hip and his bandana sways with him as he stands on your porch.

“Hey yourself. You look nice.” You beam back. There’s an undeniable allure in your pretty face. Honey gold smile skated in shiny gloss. He equates to something like pure magic.

“Ditto, Pencils.” He smirks. Veiled flirt. Not letting himself get too eager with it. His eyes flick up your dress, down your legs, and back up.

Holy shit. Good doesn’t even begin to cover how you look right now.

You also cannot ignore the lingering looming presence of your mom as she practically leaps into his eye-line behind you. She’s utterly vibrating with excitement. You can sense her just jiggling with it.

She sidles up behind you and shoves herself into the gap you’ve left in opening the door.

Whatever he was expecting of your mom, he certainly didn’t imagine this whirlwind of a woman behind you.

She’s young too. Must’ve had you in her late teens. Not stuffy. No silent husband like a fixture in an easy boy chair in the living room. Silently scathing with disapproval. She’s not sporting a beige cardigan and a constant threat of neighbourhood watch association snobbery. Sneering at Eddie on her porch like he’s a flea infected stray, yowling at her door.

There’s no way in hell anything resembling stuffy could cling to this woman.

Fierce hazel eyes traced with crows feet, shiny dark hair all free-wild and choppy. She’s old movie star kinda striking. That Colgate grin touted about in the 1950’s. One he recognises as the one that closely and genetically mirrored yours.

Boot cut jeans and a pearly smile and a big fluffy sweater and denim jeans. Entirely mad and friendly and she’s only met him two seconds ago. Some punchy shredding ZZ top blasts from the kitchen and something tells him that’s all her taste too. As well as pair of violet rhinestone cowboy boots sat by the doormat. Whacky.

He thinks how wildly accurate it is that this busy bright, kinetic energy ball of a woman, raised an unconventional and awesome girl like you. That’s no leap there.

“It is so nice to meet you. Duckie.” She out and out grins. You give her one of your looks.

Eddie chuckles. A little lost. “Duckie?” He asks.

“Her grip on sanity is loose at best.” You explain.

She elbows you in the the hip as she takes the grin down to a less terrifying notch. “Ok. Ugly grandchildren are struck off the list. He’s adorable. Look at those Bambi eyes.”

You really wish you had locked her in the attic. She’s exploding all over the poor boy.

“She’s loopy when she’s off her meds. And around new people.” You sigh to him. It gets an easy smile. Buffs the nervous look away.

“Mom this is Eddie. Eddie, I’m so sorry, this is my Mom.” You introduce. Skating a hand to the woman chomping at the bit behind her shoulder.

“Don’t you say sorry for me.” She slithers her arm through the gap you’ve left in the door. Fluffy jumper all cable knit bobbled and fuzzy. She’s a wave of zingy energy smelling like smoky Newports and designer Yves Saint Laurent perfume.

He shakes her manicured offered hand. “It’s very nice to meet you. She’s told me only good things.”

“Then she’s totally been lying. Edward. A pleasure. I’m Veronica but please don’t call me that, everyone calls me Ronnie. Awesome awesome shirt by the way.” She beams as she peers around the door. Releasing his hand from hers. “Like your metal huh?” She asks.

She perched her hands on the doorframe and stuck her head into this pick up between the two of you.

“Only with my oxygen, food and water.” He jokes. A little of his truer wide smile comes sneaking out. Now he knows there’s no need to stand on awkward shuffly doormat ceremony with your parent.

Because he knows he isn’t a meet the parents kinda guy.

He’s the guy parents ring Principal Higgins about. With distaste sour, and judgement nastily spewing off their tongues. He’s tatted, he’s a cheap weed seller, he’s crazy and scraggy weird, and he lives in a trailer park. Stamp mark of future-convict hovered heavy and eternal over his head.

He’s a jump out the window, hide in the closet kinda guy. No one would ever bring him home all hair combed and sparkly clean, pressed button down, to mom and pop, for a meatloaf dinner. Cause he’s no one to be proud of.

Yet here? Perhaps in the eyes of the most unconventional mom in all of Hawkins, something has shifted.

Something feels like it’s been spun off its axis and set down wrong, cause this bubbly woman is smiling at him and excitedly prodding her daughter out the door to go on their date. And maybe she is insane. As you said.

Talk about falling down the rabbit hole. Punctured through the splintered looking glass. He’s not high, but he could swear on seeing white rabbits and mad hatters right about now. It’s fucking nice. He’d never have expected this funky curveball in coming to pick you up.

“Edward? Eddie?” She asks.

“Eddie is fine.” He offers. Nodding, as he slips his hands into his pockets. Self conscious move, even though he didn’t need to be.

She widens her smile. “Where abouts you from? I know DND club and the fact you’re a white male in high school. Other than that I’m out. She’s been stingy with details.” She jerks her thumb at you.

His tongue shrivels up. She’s tolerated him so far. Maybe this is the sour turning point that will tip the introduction on its head.

“I live in Forest Hill’s with my Uncle. My folks, uh aren’t around.” He tells with a tone she can tell is used to receiving nasty scratchy criticism. Eyebrows raise and moods change when he’s said that before.

She nods. Her smile doesn’t leave. Doesn’t even drop.

“Honey. I grew up in paradise trails mobile park in Sloan Nevada. Don’t sweat it. Doesn’t make us lepers.” She shrugs.

Like it didn’t just wash a whole wave of unease aside in his chest.

“People in this town seem negatively charged when I tell them that’s where I live.” He admits with a big clown smile. Your heart bleeds at the true reverence in his tone.

“People in this town, are snooty assholes.” She chuckles wisely.

Debbie Harry is throatily singing one way or another from the stereo in the kitchen now.

“You done grilling my date?” You ask her with a sickly smile.

“If you stick around, there will be a follow up round where I fetch your baby pictures. And invite him in for a beer.” She threatens. Eyes widening. Kubrick crazy.

“Bye Mom.” You say as you step out the door to join him on the porch. She catches it where you’ve left it open. Calls out as you stand in the clear night listening to the cicadas hum and the street lights buzz and blink into sleepy orange. You leave her chuckling.

“Wise move. Now scram before I dust off my pipe, And my old ‘what-are-your-intentions-towards-my-daughter’ queue cards.” Your mom winks at you.

“Enjoy your night, crazy lady. Go feed the cats.” You answer, calling back over your shoulder as you sling your hand into Eddie’s lapel and pull him across the lawn.

“Let’s get away from this house of lunacy.” You tell him.

He stumbles after you waving a goodbye to your mother. Almost tripping over his boots.

“Home by midnight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t. No 420ing it without me.” She calls out to you.

Eddie chuckles as you bring him down your front lawn. Sneakers brushing the grass alongside the gentle thuds of his foot falls. Your hand migrated to holding his.

“That’s your mom.” He states. Sounding dumbfounded.

“I know. I should’ve warned you. She’s a whole new spin on the word eccentric.” You offer.

“She didn’t bark at me to get off her porch like I’m some stray, Pencils. That’s a hell of an improvement versus the reaction I thought I’d get.” He says as he looks down.

Avoiding stepping on the dandelions that are scattered across your lawn all yellow and happy. Just trying to grow upwards and peep at the sun.

You slope your fingers through his. He looks up and gazes at you as you fall in step.

“As insane and untethered to planet earth as she is, she’s really not like other moms around here. She likes you already, probably on sight of the Van Halen tee.” You tell him with smiling weight to your meaning.

His grin lopes across his face.

“She’s cool y’know. No stuffiness. No essence of church on Sunday is the law and green bean casseroles.” He nods. He likes it. He really does.

“She had my sister Charlie when she was a teenager. Me a couple years later. Possibly too young for the likings of the pissy bible study moms in this town. She dropped out of Berkeley. Parents chucked her out. She worked three crappy jobs whilst raising us and coping with my deadbeat dad, always hoping for a little better and, being, well, as you saw, entirely unhinged.” You gestured to your house.

“And…” You add. “She’s not a green bean casserole person. She stinks at cooking even by her own admission. Thankfully, we have Charlie for that. She’s the domestic one.”

Eddie smirks. His smile is pure warmth. “You guys are close, though. Tight knit. It’s cute.”

“I love that she’s not a run of the mill mom. Growing up, others didn’t tend to be as kind about it. They see a single parent, they immediately go to trashy, trampy, drunk, who doesn’t give a shit.” You roll your eyes.

Genuine hurt backs your voice though. “They set her and me aside cause we’ve always been different. We don’t have tonnes of money or a fancy house.”

And who knows that better than Hawkins own freak?

He squeezes your fingers. Warm rings all marking their usual grooves in your skin. A thorough loving squeeze that makes your heart go pattering all soppy in your chest.

“People are assholes. So I’m reliably told.” He parrots as he brings to you both to the passenger side of his van. Rings clack on the handle as he gets the door for you.

You stand and smile. “People are assholes. Look at the unfair bad rep they give you.” You point out.

He shrugs. Smirking. “What can I say? My handsome face and awesome personality protects me from total infamy.” He grins all

cheesy.

Yanking open the van door with a hand and turning his palm up to you.

“Here now, I was prepared for a little infamy. Munson. Are you telling me I’m gonna be disappointed?” You smirk as you step up close.

Eddie’s poor little rabbit heart flashes fast with the way your dress is kinda, pretty well low cut. And skimming and squeezing every beautiful curve. When you step close he can smell perfume and cherry gloss and all things sexy sweet.

You’re looking at him directly. Eyes smouldering under your eyeliner and wet n’ wild silver glitter. Angling for a kiss that he’s happy to give you til his lips damn well fall off.

He leaves the van door open. Steps you back just a little. Nudged your hips back to the body of it.

“Think I’m flirting with bad company here.” He smiles. Traces his nose along yours.

“Doubtlessly. Wanna back out now?” You ask in a husky whisper against his mouth. Hearts racing. Pulses whipping fast. Lust stirs.

His chest may implode but he’d be fine with that. Atleast he’d die kissing you. What a way to go-

“Yeah. I’m running for the hills here.” He teases. Cupping your neck and gingerly laying his fingers over your hip. You stroke hours through his long black vines of soft tousled hair.

Then he’s leaning all the way in to kiss you properly, so firmly and urgently on the mouth. Languid spearmint tongue tasting sharp and delicious, playing with your lower lip. You tug him in by his leather collar. Loving the way his body leans against yours. You moan softly.

Maybe you should’ve taken the freakin condoms after all?

Beyond the kissing, you barely hear your front door whine as it’s cracked open. Your mom hollers across the lawn with her beer in hand, and makes the dog down the street bark it’s damn head off.

“Gross. Get a room!”

You pull apart and he can’t help bursting into a smile.

“Let’s leave here. Please.” You ask of him. He can’t contain his blushy laughter.

~

My taglist for the JQ babes; @ceriseheaven @indouloureux @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @starbxcks @morganamoonstone @ramona-thorns @gvtosbith @munsonswhore86 @munsonlov3r @lunatictardis @shenevertricks1831 @hazzaismyreligion @harrys-tittie @anaisweird @cerinthussulpicia @cinnamoncunt @thincrusttheworks @manicpixiedreamcurl @therosietoesy @fanficappreciationblog @thicksexxualtension @tvserie-s-world @sharp-and-swift @dadsbongos @2clones-1kamino @edsforehead @chcolateeyelver @seven-glass-kids @forever-is-not-for-everyone @creme-bruhlee @bkish @wayward-rose @wyverntatty @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @churchmuffins @chickpeadumpsterfire @choke-me-levi @prozacandnicotine @xeddiesbattattsx @s-u-t @alyssaaaaa-r

[nart-is-a-monster]

This is the process‼️

the actual final thing is here 😺

this fucKing bass

Aaaaaallsooooooo

All this text is made with the tool that transforms your voice and whatever you're saying into text so don't expect this to have sense in too many ways okay?

Okay so this is part of the process that I end up making cuz there was a bunch of trial and error in this process because whenever I was doing like the front the front the front and the thing I was getting a little bit confused cuz I was having too many ideas at once and it didn't work out as you think it will but at the end I end up like merging some of those ideas into one and end up looking pretty good that this is the stupidest sketch of how it was looking at the beginning in the terms of the title and stuff

Now the bass that instrument took so long to get it right cuz listen I end up studying technical draw in architecture and if I see something that doesn't have the right perspective I'm killing myself

So of course I was going to get into technical details with creating or drawing the bass

And also in the first parts you can kind of see how it was at the beginning like the colors and stuff trial and error yada yada yada

And I end up making some color arrangements cuz I want this to be bright and stuff and I didn't want this to be pale or look a little bit weird I wanted to have the right contrast

And also talking about contrast you can see the pictures in black and white that's because I wanted to get rid of the contrast and I didn't want something to not pop up right using the wrong colors so that's why there's black and white pictures yes

And also as I know that @aziraphalesbookkeeper favorite color is green cuz I asked that in the ask box I end up placing a bunch of green and several places in the complete piece or the complete render

And also yes the thing that Google was wearing it was going to have some pins with like some flags or whatever and that didn't make up to the end because I was tired and I was lazy and I didn't want to do more things in the jacket

:b

In for the boots I end up searching on Pinterest several things regarding I don't know ehhh Punk boots or something like that and at the end of the day I end up just getting in genshin to look at my wriottesley and admire or have a treaty view of some boots that are similar to the things that I wanted to draw

And also talking about the boots yeah there is not that many things on the boots and I end up getting lazy and tired of drawing details on the boots but it wasn't worth it at the end of the day

And also in the part of Hugo's pants I was thinking into creating like this patches that punk pants end up having with some band names or something embroidered into them cuz that looks cool and I think it matches his personality in some sort of way and I kind of did that it doesn't look that much in contrast with they're saying something his pants but they're there and that's what it matters

I tried okay I tried

Also another little detail in the part of the front I was just searching for several inspiration on rock or metal covers for albums and stuff and I didn't find much of inspiration into that but then I look into some posters and stuff like that and that was just a boost of inspiration and that's why the fronts in the thing end up going from whatever you see on that thing that has like pngs of a scrap of papers and something is already in some kind of text of a chat cuz I remember that in the story both of them end up talking on chat and stuff

On my head it was looking right but then I put it into the actual canvas and it was looking like shit to me so that idea was a scratched and he didn't make it up to the end hehe

And I think that settled it and that's it basically for all maybe I will read all this shit later and find out something that I missed but that's it

:b

[marvelouslyfluffy]

Pretty Special

Bucky x Reader

Bucky feels insecure about his arm and you tell him all of the ways you find it special. He comes up with his own idea of why its special.

Word Count: 1,838

A lazy Saturday afternoon in the Avengers Tower. You couldn’t ask for anything better. With no need to fight anybody, you could just lay on the couch and catch up on the book you were determined to finish. Everything was serene until you heard the door violently swing open. The sudden loud noise made you jump and you looked up to see Bucky aggressively stomp through the open door.

“Hey, Buck-”

“Hey,” he replied bluntly as he briskly walked his way past you toward his room. You immediately knew something was wrong, but you also knew that questioning him any further would make him even angrier than he already seemed. You decided to let him cool down for about 15 minutes before you sneaked to his closed bedroom door. You took a deep breath before you gently knocked.

“Come in,” Bucky’s solemn reply was barely audible. The door quietly creaked open as you used every muscle to step as softly as possible into his dimly lit room. Bucky was laying on his side facing you with only his head visible from under the blanket.

“Is...everything okay?” you asked hesitantly. Bucky heaved a deep sigh and shook his head. You weren’t for sure, but you thought you saw tears welling in his eyes.

“The one day I forget my glove...” he trailed off as you heard him sniffle. You gently shut the door behind you as you followed the sunlight coming through his curtained window to find the edge of the bed. You sat at the edge, slightly sinking into the mattress.

“What about your glove? Did something happen?” you questioned. Bucky took another deep breath, but you noticed it was a little shaky. He paused before he began his story.

“I was at the store, just trying to get some groceries. I had kept my hands in my jacket pockets as much as I could to not draw any attention to myself. I was just trying to grab a box of cereal. I wasn’t thinking and I reached out with this arm,” he motioned to his Vibranium arm and continued his story, “when I suddenly heard this piercing scream. I froze and turned to see this girl just looking at me with the most terrified expression on her face. She pointed at me and just screamed. I just left. I had a whole cart of groceries and I just left,” his voice began to break. “The one day I forget my glove and I get treated like some kind of freak.”

Bucky tried to muffle his sobs, but he knew there was no hiding it from you. You pulled off the blanket, held both of his hands, and pulled him up to a sitting position. You wrapped your arms around his torso as he wrapped his arms around yours and sobbed into your shoulder. Bucky was normally not one to show vulnerability in front of others, but he trusted you enough to do so.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you attempted to comfort, but it didn’t seem convincing to Bucky as he continued to cry. You began to rub his back, which seemed to help a little as his breath began to slow.

“You know, that girl didn’t know what she was missing. She didn’t know how special this arm really is.”

“Special?” Bucky asked between sniffling.

“Yes, special,” you replied matter-of-factually as you released your hug to look up at him. “I’ll show you. Take off your jacket.”

“Really? Right now?” he asked as a small smile started to form.

“Really, right now. Come on,” you encouraged. Bucky shook his head in amusement as he slowly unzipped and slid his arms through the sleeves. Even with the small amount of sunlight through the window, the reflection of the Vibranium seemed to light up the entire room.

“Wow, just look at that shine!” you admired as you gently stroked along the bicep. A breathy chuckle came from Bucky’s throat as he watched your amazement. “You know, not a lot of people have an arm that shiny. And even less people can get that shine from Vibranium. That’s pretty special.”

“That is true,” he replied sheepishly.

“You know, a lot of people work so hard all the time to make their arms so muscular and strong. With this arm, you never have to worry about that. You could lift me up with just that arm right now and not break a sweat!” You paused, looking up at him eagerly. He smirked as he crossed his arms.

“Are you expecting me to do that right now?” he asked as he raised an eyebrow.

“Come on, please?” you nearly begged as you pulled at his shining arm.

“Fine,” he sarcastically replied. You yelped as he used his stronger arm to scoop you up from under your thighs to lift you onto his shoulder. You giggled as you placed your hand on his shoulder to get your bearings.

“Having fun up there?” he asked as he looked up at you.

“Yep, this is pretty special,” you replied. Bucky grinned and rolled his eyes as he gently dropped you back onto the bed. You yelped again and laughed at the suddenness.

“Alright, what else do you got?” Bucky challenged. You sat back up, ready to accept.

“Do you know how heavy arms are? I sometimes with I could just take them off. You’re lucky, you can do that with at least one of them. Plus, if you really needed to, you could throw it and hit somebody with it,” you persuaded.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” he smirked.

“And do you know what the most special thing about your arm is?” you continued your enthusiasm.

“What would that be?” he asked, now amused by your showering of compliments.

“It’s a part of you,” you nearly whispered as you hugged his shining arm tightly. Bucky flinched and froze for a moment as he processed what was happening. When he looked down and saw you happily interacting with his biggest insecurity, he grinned softly as he turned his body toward you. He patted you on the back in a half hug then turned away and tried to lean back. You wouldn’t have any of that and firmly held your place.

“Okay, you can let go now,” he said. You shook your head and hugged tighter. “Come on Y/N, let go,” he chuckled as he gently tried to shake you off.

“No, not until you admit your arm is cool,” you replied. Bucky paused for a moment as he formed an escape plan.

“Well, there is one thing you missed as to why my arm might be so special,” he grinned down at you. You lifted your head, careful not to lose your grip.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“This.”

Without another word, you felt his hand twist around to scribble at your belly. You squeaked as you changed your hold from a hug to a grip around his forearm.

“What’s wrong? I thought you weren’t going to let go,” Bucky teased as he twisted his wrist to a more comfortable position to continue scribbling along your belly.

“Ihi haven’thahaha!” you argued as you use your newfound grip to attempt to push him away.

“Yeah, you’re right. But this might make you.”

With that, he didn’t hesitate to worm his fingers under the lower hem of your shirt. You shrieked and jumped back at the icy touch to your warm skin. However, you stayed strong as your grip slid down from his forearm to his wrist.

“It’s cold!” you almost whined.

“Sorry, is this better?” he asked in a sarcastic tone. Before you could even blink, he ripped away from your grip, grabbed your wrists with his Vibranium arm and began his attack once more with the other.

“Thahahat’s not faihaihair!” you cried out.

“You’re right, this arm does give me a pretty good advantage. I guess that is pretty special,” he winked as he did his best to follow your squirming body. He clawed right in the middle of your belly, which caused you to shriek and fall back against the bed. Bucky followed your motion as he lied down next to you and used this opportunity to pin your hands above your head. He temporarily stopped and allowed you to catch your breath. You turned your head to look at him and giggled with anticipation. He smirked mischievously and lifted his free hand to wiggle one finger towards you. The pitch of your giggling went up as you tried to turn your whole body away. It turns out Vibranium was even stronger than you imagined as your wrists didn’t move an inch. It didn’t help anything when he used his own legs to lock yours in place.

“Where are you going?” he asked in an “innocent” manner. “I just want to hear you laugh.”

He made you do exactly that when he began poking all around your upper body. Belly, sides, ribs, underarms, nothing was safe. The unpredictability of where he was going to go next was driving you crazy.

“Having fun?” Bucky seemed genuine when he asked. You could only laugh in response, but you wouldn’t be lying if you said you were kind of enjoying it. Bucky switched from a lying position to sitting up on your legs. He switched his hand positions so quickly, you didn’t have the chance to bring your own hands down. “Okay, time for the real fun.”

Bucky began spidering at your belly, pinching at your sides, and stroking under your arms, all while never seeming to tire.

“Hahahaha! B-Buckyyy, nohohoho!” you belted out as Bucky continued his sporadic attack.

“No what?” he played dumb.

“NohohoHOHOHAHAHA!” You squeezed your eyes shut and volume of your laughter increased when he decided to dip a finger into your belly button and wiggle it around.

“Wow, I don’t even need the whole arm to make you laugh. Just one little finger does the trick. That’s pretty special, indeed.”

You couldn’t reply as your laughter began to grow silent. Bucky realized enough was enough.

“Alright, I’m finished,” Bucky convinced as he let go of your wrists. You loosely hugged around your sides and slowly opened your eyes as your breath began to slow. Even in the dimly lit room, you could see Bucky’s warm smile glowing down at you. Your whole body sparked with mirth. Bucky gave you a few more moments to catch your breath before slipping his hands under your back. You jerked as another giggle slipped from your lips.

“I’m not going to tickle you anymore, I promise,”  a chuckle escaped from him as he lifted you up into a hug. You gladly returned the favor as your slung your arms around him.

“Thank you, Y/N. It’s nice to know that somebody likes me for who I am,” Bucky whispered into your ear.

“You’re a pretty special guy,” you whispered.

“You’re pretty special too,” Bucky replied.

Both of you smiled and held onto each other tighter as to not end this special moment.

[siphoklansan]

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒕 ✍︎︎

featuring: Anan Atthakornmetha and Charin Kamolnath

Anan’s bottom fangs are thin, long and it sticks out.

The marks on the corner of his lips aren’t tattoos. It’s kinda like a birth mark (for Yakshas)

Anan has dark brown eyeshadow under his eyes.

His hair is thigh-length (half of his thighs) but when tied up it’s hip-length

Anan wears gold jewelry.

Anan’s (red) sash is near knee length

He wears black derby shoes

Anan’s jacket is always on his shoulders, and is always accompanied by a golden brooch chain.

Without the jacket, his sleeves are rolled all the way up to his shoulders.

He wears archery gloves on his right hand.

Charin has a mullet, and his hair sticks up naturally.

He has short, spiky eyebrows

Has red eye shadow

He wears silver jewelry.

He has small fangs.

The swirly marks on his cheeks are birth marks/ features that monkey yakshas have.

His ears are bigger than Anan’s.

Charin’s tail has the same color as his hair

His tail does not reach the floor

He has two silver rings wrapped around the caudal peduncle

Charin’s jacket is off shoulders at all times.

Charin’s (blue) sash is near knee length.

He wears flip-flops, but with (white) bandages wrapped around his calcaneus and ankles

His shirt collar is not buttoned all the way up and wears a loose neck-tie.

His jacket usually covers his hands in his idle pose.

Wears a short sleeved shirt.

Other Notes✍︎︎

They both wear an orange vest because they’re from a fan-made dorm called Asuri, which is still in progress as well as the dorm’s arm band.

They both wear short sleeved shirts, but Anan just folds it to his shoulders.

Charin has a leaner build than Anan, which makes Anan more muscular.

Charin rarely shows his tail, so it’s not required to draw it.

Ignore the badly drawn feet please </3

tagging @axvwriter because they were the one who asked for the long awaited reference sheet. I’m SO sorry it took so long😭🙏

If you guys noticed, yes, I removed Anan’s chain-thingy on his left hand (based on one of my spams) because I got too lazy with drawing it and it’d be a PAIN to draw it all the time. I fr forgot that bro is not a Genshin character so I don’t need to make his design that complex. So, I added archery gloves on his right hand instead because Anan is a skilled archer!✨

I also added some red highlights in Anan’s eyes and I made him look…a little less intimidating. Actually- I feel like he looks scarier when he’s not colored😟 So if you guys wanna make him intimidating with colors, I suggest drawing his eye brows near his eyes so he can look angy😠

I must confess that I have NEVER drawn them with shoes before. Actually- maybe once in one of the OC interaction asks but it wasn’t that detailed and I was drawing out of my own ass. So this reference sheet made me actually design my characters properly.

I suck at anatomy, never learned it either, so I’m pretty sure their build and limbs are wonky asf and I apologize for that😭🙏 HOWEVERRRR if you guys have any questions about them (design related or not) feel free to ask me in my inbox!💖🤍

[wrongcaitlyn]

hello there, i come here on very important, very SERIOUS business. do you have any specific ideas on what nico and will look like in your fic? ive been wanting to draw fanart (at a later date im busier than ever this week) but i dont want to get how they look wrong c:

OHMYGOD OKAY OKAY IM SO SORRY FOR BEING LATE TO THIS BUT I WANTED TO PROPERLY RESPOND TO IT LIKE WITH FULL THOUGHTS AND EVERYTHING BECAUSE YOU ARE RIGHT THIS IS VERY VERY VERY IMPORTANT AND SERIOUS BUSINESS

okay so. my issue is that like i have a vague blur of them in my head that's kinda a mix of a bunch of fanart. i'm gonna tag a few artists that i think just capture the exact idea i have of them perfectly (in talk your talk, but also just like, in general, because i do picture them both pretty similarly in any au/fic):

@delicate-sketch is the first one and i think the most accurate (in my opinion and my brain because obviously there are a million ways to picture these charactersjsdf) of them all, i just- THEY ARE NICO AND WILL. LIKE. IT'S LITERALLY. PERFECTION. so i'd say that's the closest to the blurry images of people i have in my head, and also just the style of nico, i absolutely am obsessed with their art style!! most specifically nico. like. that. IS. nico.

@/aqua.en.llamas on insta also has the most incrediblee solangelo art, but even more specifically will. ive been the hugest fan of her for ages, have edited her fanart a few times - i think she was one of the first pjo artists that i followed back when i was getting into the fandom, so that may have definitely influenced my vision of will in my head!!

@svetalmeow 's will and nico is also. just. heart eyes. in an appreciating the art and the literally perfectly accurate depiction of the character way. I LITERALLY LOVE IT LIKSEJSDAF i would repost specific pieces of art but don't wanna do that without permission and also don't want to just choose one piece of art so like scroll through their entire page for wonderful wonderful solangelo

and then here's my brief and sort of bad description of how they look because honestly the only things i know how to describe are hair and clothes (and even the clothes bit is questionable)

will has curly short blond hair, but i imagine that it gets very frizzy a lot of the time and turns out looking more fluffy some of the time - but yeah okay here are some pics i just downloaded off pinterestSLKJDF

i'd say this is pretty close to how i imagine will's hair but again it's literally all blurry and also i suck at picturing faces in my head so like just go on vibes i trust that you'll do it well (and also, if it doesn't match my picture of them, that LITERALLY doesn't matter this is your art and feel free to draw them however you like!!)

then onto nico, i think the best way to describe it is just

conan gray-

KSDFJSDFS YEAH SORRY THAT'S IT. THAT'S REALLY IT I JUST. I PICTURE CONAN GRAYSLKDF but like maybe slightlyyyy shorter hair. his hair got super long during superache era (which was absolutely GORGEOUS AND ICONIC AND I LOVED IT) but yeah i think nico's was a bit shorter. just above the shoulder and lots of layers i'd say

as for clothing style, i think they're both pretty lazy dressers. like will's go-to is just any kind of tee-shirt (he has a lot of tour merch and that's like a good majority of his closet) or college merch like an nyu hoodie and baggy jeans or cargo pants, and nico is either wearing his own merch (literally just because there are, i imagine, a lot of messed up ones or like misprints and stuff and so he just takes whatever is messed up and shoves it in his own closet-) and lots of will's clothes. and then black jeans or sweatpans). the other portion of nico is if you're doing smth that he was styled for, in which it could be either smth super fancy (again, your best bet is prob looking up conan gray red carpet looksDSFLKJ) or like a leather jacket and a tee-shirt with some sort of skull or skeleton

as for features, i have absolutely zero clue, so there's no way to mess that up. there's no way to mess up at all, actually, and im SO EXCITED TO SEE WHAT YOU MAKE AHHGSDKF ILY <33

[scrap-doodley]

FRIENDO!!!! if you still want requests,,,, can you draw the silly boys?? dave an jack of course :]

i always forget abt asks in my inbox unless I answer them right away 💔💔

uhhh I'm lazy 2 draw davesport rn but I figure this is a good excuse chance 2 show all my sillie little followers my funky paper davesport :]]

sillie sillie fucking guys..... i made them uhhhh checks watch about uhhh just over two weeks ago now ??

neat little dudes and jack is WAY shorter than dave lmeow (but the right height to have them hold hands slay happy pride everyone ❤️)

I also have uhhh little faces 2 swap out :]] lots of fun and im working on making jack a suit rn 👍

jackets done but nothing else 💔💔

anywho ueag love these guys :]] I haven't done anything with them in a bit but i'll get 2 it !!

i'll draw someday too i will [lie] /hj

bonus lol 👍

zonked.. straight zooted /ref

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

False Sunsets

Notes: Holy shit. OC story. Wacky, huh? This is around 1′300 words, and is about my 90′s game OCs, Lawrence and Miss Panack. I’ve been thinking of them a lot. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Miss Panack had lost track of how long she had been staring at the picture.

           She sat atop a round hill, the flat, low resolution texture on it making it appear to be grass and dirt. A pre-rendered environment surrounded her, lazily modeled trees and plants being placed next to the skybox, devolving into 2D textures of real trees the further from Panack they got. Behind the fake trees and grass however was the picture she had been staring at; the skybox she had become transfixed with. It was a pixelated photo of a sunset, peeking out above the tree line.

           It was beautiful; a bright yellow sun behind pink and orange clouds, the sky turning from a reddish orange to a deep blue-purple. The colors were entrancing to Panack, feeling like a painter’s palate of the best colors one could discover. She kept staring at the sunset through her 3D modeled eyes, her left one being green, and the other being completely orange, with a spiral swirling towards the middle of it, where her pupil would’ve been. Her low-poly hands were placed on her knees, both of the hands having only four fingers, being different colors from the other. She looked as though she was crossing her arms, if she had arms in the first place instead of disembodied hands. She always wondered if it was a purposeful design choice, or the developers being lazy.

           Panack’s entire body was a cacophony of different shapes and colors; deep red and white, purple and orange, blue and yellow. Her neck and head were mostly red, with stripes of blue and yellow going up her neck. Her face was white, with little features aside from the stripe of blue looking vaguely like a nose. Her mouth was full of flat, triangular teeth, turned downwards in a frown. Her body was made up of mostly simple shapes like cones and rectangles, though her upper body, neck, and head were vaguely close to a real person’s anatomy, albeit very simplistic. Panack often wondered why she was designed that way, almost feeling like she looked like a child’s drawing. Perhaps it was supposed to reference the works of Pablo Picasso, though Panack thought they did a pretty poor job of it.

           “Awful lonely…sitting here in silence.”

           Panack was nearly startled by the soft voice behind her before settled, sighing slightly. “Leave me alone, Lawrence.” She said quietly, looking towards her feet.

           Lawrence was an admittedly more simplistic looking figure, with his head being a simple black triangular shape with eyes on the sides of it, the pupils also being triangles. His torso was an inverted cone, and his long neck was just a cylinder with a white collar on it. His thin arms and legs were covered in a “suit”, which had a red and yellow striped suit jacket, along with blue pants, gloves, and a blue bow tie; however, most of it was just the textures on his model. A small red top hat with a white ribbon tied around it floated above his head, and he was holding a striped cane with one of his blocky hands.

           “Is something wrong, Miss P?” Lawrence asked, leaning over to look Panack in the face.

           “No.” Panack wasn’t necessarily telling the truth, though she wasn’t in the mood for another conversation that led nowhere.

           Lawrence remained silent for a moment before looking back at Panack. “You know…if there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m always here to chat.”

           “I…don’t want to talk right now.” Panack leaned forward slightly with a half-lidded, almost tired glare at nothing in particular. “It’s…been a long day.”

           “Really?” Lawrence asked, sitting next to Panack as he stared at her quizzically. “Didn’t think you were very busy. No one even played with us today.”

           “No one’s played with us for years, Lawrence.” Panack stared at her friend with a tinge of annoyance in her voice. “Have you been paying attention? It’s…It’s not 1995 anymore.”

           “Well, perhaps so. Though I still think there’s a chance to—”

           “God damn it, can you just admit that we’re irrelevant?” Panack interrupted, her “brows” furrowing and her green eye showing irritation. “No one cares about us anymore; we’ve been discontinued for years. We’re just in this bottom of the bin game you only find in some old box you forgot about.”

           Lawrence seemed stunned, though before Panack could think she made a good point to him, he began to speak. “Language! You do realize this game’s meant for children, correct?”

           It wasn’t even related to the matter at hand.

           Panack let out an annoyed groan before holding her knees even closer to her chest, looking away and back towards the 2D sunset in the distance. Lawrence’s eternally blank expression continued to be faced towards her before he too looked forward at the area around them. “…You…do like your job here…right?”

           Panack glanced towards him, his eye meeting her gaze before looking away once again. “I…” Panack thought for a moment before sighing deeply through lungs she didn’t have. “…Yes. Well…I guess so. I mean…I like being able to interact with them…the player I mean. Seeing the child we helped teach grow up. But…” She paused once again before shaking her head, deciding she didn’t want to go through the same conversation yet again. “…Never mind.”

           “…That’s good to hear.” Lawrence stated, not even noticing the defeated tone in her voice. He stood up, turning towards the doorway at the top of the hill, where he entered the “room” from. The doorway led to what seemed like a black void with orange and black tiled flooring, and a cityscape seemed to be the skybox of said void. However, before he entered it, Panack spoke up, her voice quiet.

           “You think they’re prettier in person?”

           Lawrence turned back towards her, tilting his head slightly.

           “The sunset.” Panack turned back towards the sunset in the distance, her voice somber. “…The colors of the clouds…the pinks, oranges and yellows…do you think they’re prettier in person?”

           Lawrence remained silent for a moment, thinking to himself as he looked at the ground. “Well…who knows, Miss P? It’s certainly possible.” Lawrence stated. “I’ve never seen one before. Though…the picture has to be just as good, right?”

           Panack didn’t think so, hunching over even more.

           Lawrence turned back towards the doorway before taking one last look at Miss Panack. “You know…you can stay here as long as you’d like, Miss P.” He said. “However, I must be going. Have to get everything ready.”

           “Ready for what?” Panack asked quietly.

           “In case anyone stops by!” Lawrence answered with his usual chipper voice. “Gotta be prepared in case the player does decide to drop in…whenever they do of course. Anyway, I’ll catch you later Miss P, and…remember I’m always here to chat. Toodleloo!”

           With that, Lawrence left, presumably to do…whatever he needed to do for the player that may never come. Panack continued to stare at the sunset in front of her, feeling a sense of sadness within her. She knew Lawrence wouldn’t understand her concerns; he never did. It was frustrating, though she knew he wasn’t a bad person. He was simply ignorant and willingly oblivious to the fact that things weren’t perfect in their little digital world. Panack was, and sometimes she wished she was as lucky as him.

           Panack sighed, lowering her head as she stared at her feet. She wished she could feel the cool air of the evening, and breathe in the fresh air. She wished she could take walks in nature, seeing and feeling the plants under her feet. She wished she could be out there, in the real world, where things weren’t made from polygons and textures. She wanted to see the sunset, she really did; and as she cried in the faint orange glow from the fake picture of one, she wondered if it was ever meant to be.

[theluckcatlord]

We Have gone full circle again and we are back to drawing Sirwhere in Cyberpunk!

(Cutely nicknamed Sirwherepunk by us)

I don't actually smoke nor my character, you shouldn't either! Smoking has a cool vibe but only in art because they can't get lung cancer. Anyways the windows on the building in the back is binary!

The gang we run is also called Sirwhere.

Here is a bit more detailed picture of the rat that probably has every drug in their system at once. Canonically Sirwherepunk!Cat also has a driver's license, but i doubt they'd get any use out of it. Oh and the way the Mantis blades work is different and it uses the wrist joint to rotate instead of how the Official ones are.

(Pictured me and Jolly discussing the lore of Sirwherepunk)

Doodles on Keep reading.

As always i do on Tumblr here is also some of the Doodles!

Originally Sirwherepunk!Cat had a different design for the arms and jacket which is most of the difference between Normal me and this variant. I simplified the arms due to me being lazy and having difficulties with drawing the arms, the jacket though? I thought it looked better than the original. Oh and the old design for the mantis blades was made by a misunderstanding on how the Official ones move. Though i ended up keeping it due to it being pretty cool anyways.

Jolly's design is about the same is it was originally but i just made the extra joint optional. He also is mostly metal and gladly will punch a hole trough a wall. Our characters end up meeting as he tackles a mugger that plans to mug me, though as you may have seen i have blades for arms so I was fine. He ends up yoinking me and we end up becoming friends over the fact we both have no self preservation skills and also are both from Finland. (pretty much how we met actually)

These two originally did not have designs but i was in vc with them i just thought oh well. Usa (The guy on the left) Uses the sensors under his eyes to see and the place where his eyes used to be can be used to flashbang people which i think is a funny idea. @yourgirlsamy is to the right and i ended up just winging the design (pun intended).

Beeeq Didn't get any changes but anyways he drives an Mitsubishi Lancer EVO, he loves that car. He also listens to Eurobeat in school zones probably. The story is that he moves into Night City with his friend Shape and Shape drags him into a bar which happens to be the bar me and Jolly frequent. The bar is called shining shackles which Jolly ended up naming, though later we did theorize if we should make it that we bought the Bar eventually.

Anyways that's all the lore and drawings i got. have a great day.

[artbymintcookies]

i'd love to see a tutorial/tips on how to make the kim jacket, if you want to!

Alright! It's a little lengthy so bear with me!

So the first step is to get the patterns. The basic shape of it is going to be like this:

You can note as you make the pattern how cropped you want it to be. The basic shape should be like this and you should end up with 3 main body pieces:

Note how I marked my pocket placements in the front (I have 2 in the front and 2 in the lining) but that's optional. You can omit pockets, or add a bunch but I'm not super confident in my ability to do pockets so I recommend looking up the type of pocket you want. I tried to do welt pockets, but I think zip pockets could also be cool.

Also optional is this part of the lining which I just got lazy and zigzag stitched on:

What I did for the pattern is I just traced the neckline and freehand the shapes.

Once you have all the pattern pieces, just remember to either go over them again and add a seam allowance or cut your pieces with a seam allowance.

The actual pieces you will cut are:

4 front pieces (2 lining, 2 main fabric)

4 sleeve pieces (2 lining, 2 main fabric)

2 back pieces, cut in fold (1 lining, 1 main fabric)

Lining pieces optional, but you only need the main fabric for those

4 zipper rectangle bits (all main fabric)

2 cuff pieces, 1 neck piece (cut on fold to mirror lengthwise and widthwise), 1 waistband piece, also cut on fold lengthwise

The basic steps are:

1. Cut out the pieces (I like to zigzag stitch the raw edges so I don't have to worry about them)

2. Sew any patches or pockets onto each piece that needs it

Tip:

The patches are reflective tape that I zigzag stitched with the smallest stitch setting to make a border. I also cut the corners so the weren't just right angles. The front patch I also used the same technique but followed a stencilled drawing of the patch.

3. Sew the lining pieces together, and the main pieces together

4. Sew the wrist cuffs into loops, fold them over. Sew right sides of the main and lining pieces together at the wrist, with right sides of the cuff sandwiched between. (Be careful and figure out a way to pin them so you're able to flip everything inside out). Stretch as you go as the cuffs will be stretchy and smaller than the main and lining fabric.

5. Sew the zipper rectangle pieces (I don't have a better name for them, sorry) to the waistband pieces on their short ends.

6. Sew two inches of the neck and waistband to the main and lining pieces individually.

Just to about here on all sides.

7. Turn the piece inside out, and sew the zipper sandwiched between the main and lining pieces. Leave about 4 inches unsewn on one side so you can turn the piece right-side out again.

8. Sew the neck piece and the waistband sandwiched between right sides of the main and lining pieces, like with the wrist cuffs. You'll have to maneuver the zipper out of a way

9. Turn everything right-side out and handstitch the open part of the zipper closed

Tips:

Iron everything as you go. Seriously like every seam

For extra hold, do some topstitches

You can also add as many layers as you want for extra insulation. I actually ended up doing 2 lining layers and sewed them together during the cut/zigzag stage.

When sewing a stretchy know fabric to a nonstretch, mark each quarter of the lengths and match them while sewing.

Unfortunately I'm actually not that great at sewing, and I referred to sewing tutorials a lot while working my way through this, so hopefully this helps a bit!

[fanfictionsquared]

I’m reworking my one MoD!Harry AU. Details below the cut.

Who did I draw in the pic?

Regulus (sharp cheekbone, curly hair that changes length)

Sirius (in the jacket with pins hehe)

Lily Luna (red hair)

Teddy (blue hair)

What is the AU now, FF^2?

*inhales deeply*

SO. Everything’s mostly canon (not cursed child compliant tho lmao), and Harry is officially Master of Death since he was the owner of all three hallows at the same time. This means, essentially, that he is now the personification/god of death.

Since Harry is Harry tho, he doesn’t want to live forever alone, and so his friends and family try to help him find a way to get out of it. There isn’t one. So he is, of course, resigned to living forever alone.

Except his friends decide “no, no thanks, we’re not letting you do this alone.” So when Harry dies and ‘ascends,’ his family and friends choose to ascend with him. He’s able to reach already dead souls using the stone, so Sirius also ends up making the choice to ascend too. The rest of the dead are content staying where they are.

(I have,,,, such a long list of who ascends and what they do and blah blah blah, but I’m not gonna get into it because it is….. so much. It’s truly just so much.)

The important thing is that the way this works is that the universe resets itself every so often, slightly different each time. And certain things carry through, like tales turning into mythos. Harry and his immortal (sometimes reincarnating) family, are the focus of several of these myths, including the harbingers of the apocalypse one.

So when his family meddles, it’s usually with those names, rather than their original ones. Which, when they interact with alternate incarnations of people they know, can cause some shenanigans.

What is actually depicted in your doodles?

Regulus,,,, listen he is my current blorbo and I just wanted to draw him, ok? The jegulus fandom got its teeth in me and now I’m thinking about Harry Potter stuff again. (Speaking of which! Fuck JKR.)

In this AU, he doesn’t ascend with everyone else, but instead ascends later during a whole thing that I will maybe actually write into a fic. Maybe.

Top left is just the first full body Regulus design I did. Dipping my toes in, you could say. Key things; he’s younger in this. Pre-ascension. He’s wearing slytherin’s locket for plot reasons.

Top middle is the Black brothers with their animagus forms behind them. And yes I made regulus’ a lion. Tbh I think he deserves it. He’s dangerous, lazy, proud, sneaky, and at the end he was really, really brave. I know lots of people make him a house cat, but like. If Sirius can have his star’s namesake as an animagus form, so can regulus.

Below that, we have Regulus saying “Potter?” While looking shocked. I won’t elaborate too much on this for plot reasons (in case I write the fic), BUT, this is the moment that he learns that Lily Luna is a Potter.

To the right of that is the brother hanging out and being cute and I love them. I just want them to reconcile and talk and be family again 😭. Also I want Sirius to have 100 little gay pins for his leather jacket. He deserves it.

Bottom left is Lily Luna and Regulus together. I this AU on particular, Regulus has a mentor/mentee and uncle adjacent relationship with her. They are cute, and I love them, and I won’t hear otherwise, sorry not sorry.

Bottom right is the only doodle I will give spoilers for. It’s post-ascension, where Regulus, Sirius, LilyLuna, and Teddy are all about to wreck some shit. The rest of the family jokingly calls them the “Grim Squad”, because all of them go out and hunt down wayward or death cheating souls. So if you see them, you’re their target, and will die. Just like the Grim thing.

Last words

This is a self indulgent au, and idk if I’ll write it, but maybe I’ll elaborate on it more here if anyone is actually interested. Either way, I’m just happy I had the motivation to draw this 😌

[albertborup]

Men's Winter Clothes

Send me exclusive offers, distinctive gift ideas, and personalised suggestions for shopping and promoting on Etsy. Wool is way warmer, breathable, and is available in tremendous lightweight varieties. The merino sheep can survive extreme temps because of the unbelievable pure engineering of their fleece. Great winter style can actually boil down to a great pair of heat boots. The clothes you put on in your every day routine allow you to make your splendid impression and give other individuals a flash of who you're. Hence, you all the time need the most jazzier and trendy attires so as to make your whole seems striking and noteworthy. So, Let’s get began and wrap ourselves with the fashionable patterns. The quilted trend, as seen in jackets, skirts, and even shirting—will continue to excite craft-loving fashionistas, whereas pandering to all of our hibernating instincts. To avoid the danger of twinning along with your bed room quilt, play with quilted separates in impartial colours and tailor-made silhouettes. And in fact, the solar can shine brightly one second and rain can pour down in the course of the next moment. Even after checking the climate forecast, you can't make sure what to anticipate. And which means you'll probably be doing lots of walking. street style men Each of those simple to follow step-by-step how-to sequences is color-coded in your comfort, allowing you to learn to draw trendy outfits right away. As for theater and classical concerts, you may see every little thing from very casual (jeans and t-shirts) to very dressy (semi-formal, jewels). Due to the town's large student population, apparel skews strongly toward the casual end of the spectrum. You'll need to costume up for some of the fancier ones, even when there's no formal costume code. When in doubt, a jacket and/or tie is ok for men. For ladies, anything black works well; if what you have packed would not appear dressy enough, prime it off with an attractive scarf or wrap. Cabral suggests choosing one statement piece in your outfit, corresponding to large earrings or a cocktail ring. When I began this week, I began to comprehend that although I love my new winter coat , I also wants to not neglect about a few of the others in my wardrobe that can make sure seems pop. For example, pairing this slick black coat with the vibrant yellow of this sweater makes for a striking picture. I too usually fall right into a entice of laziness, falling back on the same appears, after I ought to all the time try to diversify. You can even put on it with any outfit for a putting look. Aside from warming your ears, beanies are additionally enjoyable way to add a pop of color or personality to a monochromatic outfit. They are extremely straightforward to search out at inexpensive prices—you can even go to Phase 2 and find low cost Queen’s beanies. Leather blazers are right here to save the day when the climate is cold, however not quiiiite cold enough for a giant winter coat. Green was everywhere on the runway for Spring/Summer 2023, so you presumably can't go incorrect with one this color—you'll be method ahead of the times. A patent leather-based corset will look so good at any soiree. I even have plans to turn the membership into something huge, but for now... Rain can fall in Boston throughout every season throughout the year, though during winter months, precipitation could additionally be in the form of snow or sleet somewhat than rain. Either pack an umbrella or be ready to buy one if needed. Lightweight "journey" umbrellas are nice except we now have a nor'easter - but when that happens, you will get wet whatever you carry due to the wind. During most winter-like months, you can probably get away with layers quite than a heavy coat - especially if one layer is Polartec or some other sort of high-quality fleece. Pack sturdy, waterproof sneakers or boots with heavy soles to insulate your toes from the chilly pavement or an accidental step into icy, salt-infused slush. Sturdy styles with rubber soles and closed toes provides you with protection from shut encounters with uneven sidewalks or cobblestones. I really feel like you would find these at Nordstrom rack since they usually carry older styles of Nike’s. The finest piece of drugs that I invested in was sneakers with cleats built directly in. I found ice cleats that attach to your shoes to be not that helpful. They’ll help you get the proper pair of winter running or hiking footwear to fit your foot. A good rule of thumb is to begin your run feeling a little bit cold. But if you are coming in January or February, a puffer jacket or coat (those down-filled garments that make you look like you are wearing a sleeping bag) could be your best good friend. A good thing to pack is a lightweight weight canvas or fabric bag.You can throw in an umbrella in summer time or gloves, indoor footwear, and earmuffs during the winter - simply in case. More probably are unseasonal events, such as a snowstorm bringing a foot of snow in October or May, a balmy 70° day in January or February, or cold, damp weather until July 4th .

[winter-spark]

Reposting a Reblog as a Separate Post #2

[I might be less lazy with editing this one or I won't. If I was lazy but edited it I'll just cross off things lol, If I wasn't lazy and added edits it'll be in brackets, if I don't edit something that should be edited 🤷🏾‍♀️ have fun. Also this is still a copy and paste just so you know.]

[Related posts for 'context': initial thought, sketches I did]

So you're probably thinking "Gee Spark you're gonna talk to yourseldf some more about some no one asked about" to which I say:

I will answer your inqury on what I was going for for their clothes! At least as to what I was trying to inspire their outfits off of.

So first up the Orange's outfit 'moodboard':

There's one more outfit I want in consideration for this but I'll explain in it a second. So! I really think Orange might like to wear the sort of jacket thing Yuki's got on there, and while I opted out of the choker for him I do think he'd wear multiple necklaces. As for Citron's outfit there, I like the belt.

Also, those large gold bracelets seem to be mandatory and possibly a while jumpsuit of sorts. The owl earrings I legit just found right now(or well last night because I did fall asleep writing lol) to give an idea of what his earring might look like when I finalize it and pick out an Owl for it. I'm not sure if he always had an Owl earring or not but if he didn't that's fine because then it could be his little piece of abroad that he keeps with him, but if he did that's also fine because it's a sliver of his interests and personality shining through.

There was one more outfit I wanted here but oh well you don't need an image. It was the one with flowers on it. I think if Orange is allowed to wear some with more designs than what we've seen Citron and Tangerine in, it'd have flowers on it. Why? Well after all he's a nature boy. I know because they[/the company] telepathically told me when I was trying to draw him.

[Editing in this new version of the post here, too lazy to cross out and adjust last paragraph but I did think I should update this part: I didn't want to include the picture initially because I'm not tagging these character and I know one of my moots doesn't vibe with the character in this outfit so I hope croping his face out helps in case they see this. Here's the picture.

I don't think either sketch includes the scarf but I think I did consider it a lot when I was initially sketching them]

Okay so next up Navel's outfit "moodboard":

So here we go. I like the collar on Sakyo's outfit. Then I think Navel would have a visible choker like Citron does(tho tbh in my head it looks more like Yuki's but to avoid confusion I didn't put Yuki in this set.) There's the flowy part of the outfit & I'm leaning towards how Sakuya's is but Idk for sure, I kinda also really like the whole shoulder section of Sakyo's outfit so Idunno. He probably definitely has the stars though like Sakuya does. (As you can see I'm less sure on this outfit lol.)

[edit/Update: If you saw the other pictures I had here no you didn't:

THIS. Like like when I had the pic with Tangerine's outfit from this event I was confused why I picked it but I liked the energy like the soft poofiness of it and I sorta want a similar vibe, this sorta has that same vibe. BUT also like the collar!!! I want Navel to have a collar somewhat like this so that his choker that he definitely has is visible!]

Anyway, longer hair seems to be a trend for the royal family and Citron only sometimes wears a ponytail. SO why not let Navel have a ponytail? I think that Navel would try to differentiate himself from Orange in some ways since they're always together and so close in age(confirmed in my heart) and so a ponytail is a good start and easy to do.

I know that these ponytail cuff things exist. While looking up pictures for these, I learned that a lot of them have elastics in them? I didn't know they did? But regardless, I think that Navel should have one. Maybe without the elastic like the rhinestone one, but be bigger and more solid like the second one. It for suresies should have a star design on it. He loves the stars, fact.

So yea that's what I have. Just struggling to articulate it. Thanks for reading this.

Anyway. Yea. I know I'm kinda like the only one here but like if anyone wants to help with these outfits or has any additions or anything feel free to add on.