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writingoddess1125 · 10 months

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The twin girls getting into readers makeup and giving Buggy a girly makeover before a cross guild meeting? The girls also wanting to give uncle Mihawk and uncle Crocodile a girly makeover as well, who are they to say no?

Make Up Time

• "He's late-" Crocodile grumbled, Sitting back in his chair as he took a puff from his cigar in irritation.

• The men had been waiting for nearly half an hour for their other Member Buggy to actually make an appearance. Typically the man showed up on time- However it seemed today he wanted to slack off..

• Mihawk was leaned back with his hat covering his gaze as he just decided to rest.

• Crocodile got ready to stand, figuring just leaving was better then staying in a empty room. That was till the door finally slammed open-

• "About time-"

• There walked in Buggy- The typically flashy dressed man with a large hat seemed to be missing that day- instead a exhausted blue haired man- his hair in a messy bun and simple trousers strained with something and a baggy button up that also had some either food or paint stains- As well as carrying a big bag.

• "Fuck- What happened to you?" Mihawk questioned- genuine sympathy in his gaze as he looked at the clearly exhausted father who looked like is he got into a fight with a eviler clown that likes pinks, purples and glitter.

• Crocodile raising a brow as well, that was till he saw the two little girls trailing behind Buggy giggling and beginning to run around with thwir toys. They hadn't seem then since they were sick and Buggy clearly needed the assistance-

• "Is the Misses sick again?" Crocodile mused, earning a glare from the exhausted father who took a seat at his chair. "No- My wife doesn't need to be sick for me to watch our kids.. She's just taking a day to herself"

• He sighed as laid back, clearly tired already.

• "And you're tired already?" Crocodile said with a roll of his eyes.

• "They are just High energy" He said calmly as he set the bag down. When he did the girls decended onto it like a pack of hounds, pulling out more toys and what was more noticable makeup-

• Mihawk looked down and saw one of the little girls- Ari if he remembered correctly tugging on his pants leg and doing grabby hands to be picked up which he complied to.

• "Have them sit then for the meeting-" The man grumbled.

• "Thats now how kids work. They either play or scream their lungs out for the next few hours-" Buggy explained- Ali saying 'Up Up' to Crocodile as she tapped his leg and tried to climb up with a makeup pallet in her hands.

• "Why not discipline them to sit still-?" Crocodile asked genuinely a bit surprised as he picked up Ali finally and set her in his arm. Their understanding of younger children clearly lacking.

• "They're three asshole- They dont need to be disciplined for wanting to play-" Buggy said quite irritated by Crocodile's line of thinking-

• Crocodile looked to Mihawk to back him up but saw the man with his eyes clothes as Ari was already applying something to his eyelids- "Just suck it up and let her do the makeup-"

• For Fucks Sakes-

• "So our monthly take home has increased by- Okay no makeup in the mouth" Crocodile said calmly- Ali sitting on his arm as she dabbed a healthy amount of purple lip gloss on the brush and pressed it to his lips- sure some getting on his teeth.

• Ali giggling up at him cutely as the man sighed, Taking the brush and applying it himself to show how it's done.

• "Pretty!" She squealed, clapping her hands as Crocodile grumbled something and nodded. Letting her have the tools back to absolutely destroy his face in more makeup.

• "Let's continue-"

• For the next hour the men crawled through their meeting, while trying to handle the two toddlers in their care once more. Buggy reaching into the large bag he brought to get them snacks and drinks- both of which were forcibly shared by the toddlers as well.

• Nothing like floor cereal for a bunch of dangerous pirates-

• Once the meeting was over- all three men were exhausted beyond belief, like they all had their asses beaten thoroughly and humbled just ever so slightly.

• When they walked out the meeting hall no one expected the rather weird sight. Mihawk holding Ari who was asleep tucked into his side, his had removed and his face decorated with red lipstick, far to pink blush and a smear of blue, red and orange around his eyes and brow- paired with what seemed to be a purple bow in the front of his messed up hair.

• Crocodile holding Ali who was talking to him in her broken array of words. The man supporting her on his shoulder, his own hair apart in two pink tails with non matching hair ties, purple lip gloss on his lips and eyelids, blush on his cheeks and nose- something blue on his chin and gold glitter on his cheeks.

• No one dared to look at the group- both from fear and fear of laughing at the leaders.

• "I will say this- I am impressed" Crocodile said- Buggy staring at the man in surprise but didn't press further. Just smiling with bubbling pride-

• "Honestly. It wasn't as bad as I though, They are cute" Mihawk said calmly. Adjusting Ari on his shoulder who mumbled something in her sleep-

• "It's typically pretty nice ac-" He stopped as he heard shouting from the other side of the lobby doors. The three men stopping in their tracks as they just stared at the closed doors.

• A loud crash could be heard paired with a pair of cackling as matching small feet could be heard scampering around as sound of Galbido yelling could be heard and Cabaji trying to tame whatever destruction was taking place-

• "Please tell me there are no more-" Mihawk deadpanned, staring at his peer who sighed heavily already knowing that those were his boys-

• "Do you want the honest answer or the one you want to hear?"

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #dad crocodile #op crocodile #one piece crocodile #dad buggy #dad!buggy

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reigningqueenofwords · 5 months

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Paintings

Pairing: Castiel x Winchester!Reader Word count: 1,953

Read on AO3

Sitting in the room that your brothers had set up for you, you tilted your head as you looked over the canvas in front of you. You were surrounded by some finished pieces, pieces you’d started and were waiting for new inspiration for, and then some pieces you hated and just never threw away. You were wearing a pair of old jeans and a tank top, not caring about the amount of paint that currently covered you.

There was a knock on the door before it opened. When you looked over your shoulder, you were met with Dean’s face. “Sis, we kill things for a living, so please tell me why you paint like this?” He motioned around as he stepped it.

“Like what?” You raised an eyebrow at him, looking innocent.

He played Vanna White at your current piece. “Like you just ripped a guy’s heart out and decided to paint with it?!” He said simply. “It’s weird.” He shuddered. “It’s like the murder room in here.” He explained.

You blinked. “Huh.” You shrugged. “I never thought of it that way.” You admitted. “Maybe it’s my way of working through things we see? You drink and jack off to Busty Asian Beauties. Sam nerds out. I paint.” That was your best theory. “And spend time with Cas when he can.” You pouted. He’d been somewhat busy lately, leaving you little time with your boyfriend.

“Hopefully he can take you out soon. Get you away from this.” He motioned to your work again. “Can’t you paint something with life?” He asked.

“I could try, but it probably wouldn’t be any good.” You told him.

He rolled his eyes. “You’ve got talent, so stop trying to pretend you don’t. Anyways, dinner is done.” He moved towards the door. “Can you take a break from blood and guts to eat with your older brothers?” He teased you.

“Give me five minutes to put the covers on my pallets and clean my brushes.” You smiled. “And get me a beer?” You asked him, going to work on cleaning up. “And not one of those alcohol free ones you’re hell bent on me drinking.”

“You’re my baby sister, so sue me.”

Stopping what you were doing, you stared at him. “Dean. I turned thirty two months ago .” You laughed. “I’m not a baby!”

“Shuddup.” He muttered before leaving you alone.

“Wash your hands.” Sam told you as he set things out on the table. “I know your hands are covered in paint.”

You chuckled. “Jokes on you. My hands are clean, Sammy.” You showed him when he looked up at you. “Had to clean my brushes.” You explained. “Need any help?” You offered.

He smiled. “Nope. We’re good.” He sat down as Dean brought over three beers. “I actually cooked dinner. No takeout tonight.” He said proudly.

“Oh, impressive. And I was so getting used to the bad Chinese and Taco Bell.” You teased, getting yourself comfortable. “And thank you for the real beer.” You told Dean, lifting it to your lips.

Cas appeared a moment later. “Oh, you’ve already begun dinner.” He sighed. “I was hoping to take Y/N for a date.” He explained. “Perhaps another night.” He noted, sitting down.

Dean nudged you. “Go on.” He told you. “Or he’s going to pout like a puppy who lost his bone.” He teased his best friend. It had been weird as hell when you first started dating him, but over time...he was okay with it. “Besides, that ‘another night’ might not happen for weeks for all we know.” He pointed out.

“You sure?�� You looked between the boys. “You cooked.” You reminded Sam.

He smiled, nodding. “I can easily put the leftovers in the freezer.” He assured you. “Go.”

You got up, moving to hug each of your brothers. “You’re the best. Love you. I promise I’ll work on that ‘life’ painting tomorrow, Dean!” You kissed his cheek, making him chuckle and shake his head. You got to Cas and held out your hand. “All yours!”

Cas’s face lit up as he stood. “I am looking forward to our date. I’ve missed you.” He said sweetly before he kissed you.

Dean made a face. “Dude.” He said jokingly.

“Going!” You laughed, tugging Cas out of the room. “Let me change and then we can go. Did you have someplace in mind?” You asked as you neared your room. “So I know how to dress.”

“You are fine in what you are wearing.” He chuckled. “Although, I would suggest shoes.” He pointed out. “I find I enjoy when you are covered in paint. Means you had a good day in your ‘studio’, which I know makes you happy.” His blue eyes traveled over your body as he spoke.

You blushed and looked at him. “Can I show you my latest work?” You asked shyly, wanting to see if he thought the same thing as Dean.

He beamed. “Of course.” He nodded, letting you tug him in the direction of your little studio. “I always enjoy seeing it.” He had simply watched you work for hours on end before, observing you. It was beautiful.

Opening the door, you let him in and shut it behind him. “Dean doesn’t get my work.” You told him. “Says it looks like I took a guy’s heart and painted with it or something.” You traced your fingers gently over the outside of your new canvas. “Asked me to paint something with ‘life’.” You sighed.

“What is more full of life than blood?” Cas asked. When you looked at him, eyebrow raised, he smiled at you. “Blood truly is life.” He pointed out. “Without it, humans would die, animals would parish.”

You nodded at that. “That is a very good point.” You agreed. “Dean calls it the murder room.” You shrugged. “I dunno, just wanted your opinion. I never noticed it until he said that. I like my work. It speaks to me. Except for those.” You pointed to the corner. “Those are my disowned works.”

He chuckled lightly. “Why do you keep them?” He asked, curious.

“Inspiration to do better?” You guessed, chewing on your lip as you looked around. Slowly, you smiled at him. “I have an idea…” You moved to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And I need the help of a certain angel.” You flirted.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. “And how may I help you?” He asked, voice low.

Pecking his lips, you grinned. “Strip.” You patted his chest.

“Strip? As in, remove my clothing?” He asked, wanting to clarify things.You nodded as you slowly pulled away, taking off your tank top.

Both of you stripped, eyes never leaving each other as you did so. “Now, pick some paint.” You pointed to where there was a bunch of new bottles. “No more than say six. Don’t want it to get muddy.” You moved things out of the way as he looked over his options, wanting them to be perfect. Once there was enough room, you set up as many canvases as you could fit in the area.

“Are these okay?” He asked, turning with two bottles in each hand- teal, dark blue, emerald green, and a color that reminded you of his eyes.

“Perfect.” You nodded, excited. “Give me two.” You reached out, getting dark blue and emerald green. “Now shoot streaks all over the place. On these canvases.” You told him.

“And this will create ‘life art’?” He asked as he opened his two bottles.

You did the same. “It’s the start.” You explained. “Move around to get some all over.” You told him, not staying put. Once you felt there was enough, you stopped. “That’s good. Can you put these over there?” You handed him your bottles and motioned to the ones that were opened.

Castiel nodded, taking them. “Of course.” He agreed. “Now...what?” He was curious as you walked across the canvases towards him.

“Now, you’re going to lay me down on these and we’re going to enjoy each other.” You ran your hand over his chest. “We’re going to make a painting with our bodies.” Kissing him softly, you smiled.

His hands gripped your hips. “I will not object to that.” He told you, kissing you lovingly as the pair of you moved to lay down.

Dean was walking by your room when he heard you laughing and paused. He furrowed his brows, moving towards it. “Sis?” He called out before opening the door. “Oh, come on .” He instantly left.

Walking into the kitchen, your hair was wet and you were wearing your bathrobe. Cas wasn’t that far behind, a smile on his face. He was dressed in his own clothes, but his hair was also wet. “Please erase that image from my mind.” Dean down the last of his beer.

“Hey, you asked me to create a life painting.” You smirked.

“I didn’t say ‘make babies in paint’!” He countered, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I want to forget that sight.” He groaned.

Cas furrowed his brows. “We were not ‘making babies’.” He told Dean. “I have no wish to lose her to childbirth.”

You giggled as Dean put his head on the table. “I think you’re breaking him.” You told your boyfriend. “Let’s just get my ice cream and go watch a movie.” You said as you got a bowl. “I’m sure it’ll pass, Dean.” You told your older brother. “You’ll be okay.”

He shook his head, not moving it from the table. “I regret telling you to make ‘life paintings’. Please, stick to your murder work.” He turned his head to look at you.

“I might. Depends on if these sell.” You shrugged.

That made him sit up. “Sell?” He asked, curiosity piqued. “What are you talking about? You’ve never mentioned selling your work before.”

You nodded, finishing getting your ice cream and putting it away. “It was Cas’s idea. Said that my talent should be shared, and it might be a good way for us to make some spare cash.” You turned to lean against the counter, bowl in hand. “So, I’m going to ask Sam to help me figure out how to sell some stuff online.” You explained.

Dean smiled at that. “See, told you that you have talent.” He said proudly. “You got a ton of work in there you can sell.”

“Except I requested she keep one of our pieces.” Cas noted.

“Please never mention your ‘pieces’ again.” Dean said over his shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find something to take my mind off...that.” He moved to the fridge to grab another beer before leaving the two of them alone.

Running through the bunker when you heard Dean get home from a supply run. “Dean!” You were nearly jumping with excitement. “Guess what?!” You squealed.

“What?” He laughed, loving seeing you like this.

“Everything. Sold.” You told him. “In just the time that you were gone.” You gushed. “Cas and Sam and helping me get everything wrapped up. The buyer is in the city.” You explained. “All. One. Buyer.”

His eyebrows went up. “One?!” He grinned. “That’s amazing. You sure it’s legit?” He didn’t want you getting screwed over.

You nodded. “He’s sent half the money already.” You told him. “We meet him about dinner time. And, then after, I’d like to take my big brothers out to celebrate.”

“What about Cas?” He asked.

“We’re going away for a few days, leaving Friday.” You told him happily. “Going to Greece. Saving on airfare, thankfully.”

Dean hugged you, happy for you. “You’ll be in a museum one day.” He beamed.

#castiel x reader #cas x reader #castiel oneshot

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desmond69miles · 5 months

Text

An Artists Eye

I don't know why but every time I try to update a post it doesn't work until I do it three times?? Boo. This isn't exactly how I wanted it to turn out but I'm semi-happy with the finished work, soooooo have fun.

I'm working on a 'part-two' (it's more of a part one, it takes place before this). Not sure when it will be posted, but it'll be out sometime. (Read it here!)

Arno finds your sexual drawings and offers to live them out with you.

AO3 LINK

Warnings: Fluff and smut, Google translated French, oral (r receiving) fem!reader, vaginal sex/fingering, unprotected sex, creampie (I hate that word), grinding/dry humping.

Word count: 3,491. It's been awhile since I wrote something this long.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Three years ago, you had the pleasure of Arno knocking you over. The streets of Paris had been bustling one fall morning, and you were late to a client meeting, scuttling down the street with your sketches haphazardly secured in your arms. You weren't looking - or maybe you were but didn't process it in time - when a man walked straight into you. It was somewhat theatrical--your papers flew up as you fell down. The man immediately bent down to help collect your sketches while muttering apologies, but it was too late; a good majority of your work had fluttered straight into a muddy puddle you narrowly missed.

As the brunette picked up what papers were still preserved, you worked on dusting yourself off. Once the two of you stood, you finally looked at the man's face, one of his gloved hands moving to push his hood back. "Je suis vraiment désolé, madame," he said, "I'll buy you a new stack of sketching papers." You blinked at his offer - somewhat distracted by his handsome face - and politely rejected it. "Non, c'est bon. I wasn't looking where I was going." The man nodded and handed you back your work, dismissing himself with a slight nod and smile before disappearing back into the crowd. You stood there for a few seconds while people passed you, their shoulders occasionally bumping yours, and you moved to put the papers in your messenger bag.

A few days later, the man randomly arrived at your door around eleven at night. When you opened the door, you were no less than shocked - he actually brought you a new stack of sketch paper! Then you asked yourself, how did he find my house? "Bonsoir Madame," he said. His brown eyes danced over your face, the same you had done when he knocked you over, and he extended his hand with the cartridge paper that was wrapped in a thin cloth to keep from dirtying. You take it from him, and your mouth flubbed open in search of some words. Finally, you decided on nothing more than an awkward "Merci... May I get your name?" The man chuckled, "Arno Dorian, and yours, madame?" Arno repeated your name once you said it, nodding along in confirmation. He left after denying your offer for coffee with a goodnight, and after you returned to your sofa, you undid the covers to the paper.

A small card with a fancy gold trim sat on the stock. You turned it around and looked at the fancy swirls of writing--If you wish for more paper, run into me at Café Théâtre. You couldn't help the wide smile that formed on your face.

Now, it will be your and Arno's second anniversary in a day.

You sat in front of your easel that held up your latest work, and one of your hands mixed up a beautiful blue on the wooden pallet held by your other hand. It was seven-ish, the sun hazily setting in the dimming sky, and the warm air of summer blew through the open windows of Arno's chambers. The ambient buzz of crickets and the fuel of early nightlife gave way to your soft humming of a lullaby. Occasionally, you'd hear the claps from the Cafe down below, a recitation of Hamlet playing tonight, and you've seen the show so much that you found yourself rehearsing the lines to yourself every so often. Your fingers plucked through your paintbrush jar until you found a suitable one and began to paint the shading colors of Arno's coat. Shading was the last thing that needed to be done, an easy task that could be completed quickly.

Arno was indeed your favorite subject to draw. Often, when you found yourself unable to sleep, you sketched him while he was resting--or when you found yourself with free time, you drew his body's familiar lines and curves in practice. Sometimes, these anatomical figures found themselves in... precarious positions, such as in nude drawings. Those were your personal favorites, your sexual admiration for him going past just intercourse, but that sketchpad had been stowed away in the very back of your closet in a box. Hiding your drawings wasn't something you liked; you were proud of your work, and you didn't shy away from drawing nude bodies. In fact, Élise's favorite work of yours was of a sexually deviant nun she had nicknamed 'The Sin.' But, you always hesitated to show Arno the drawings and paintings you have done of him. Neither of you was sure why; you argued they weren't perfect, and Arno argued you were worried that he'd judge (in truth, you were a little more than embarrassed to show the numerous sexual positions you had put your lover and yourself in through pencil).

However, you decided to face that embarrassment with your second anniversary, hence your eagerness to finish this portrait of your lover. Hours had ticked by reasonably quickly, and soon enough, you heard the grandfather clock chime twelve times, indicating the strike of midnight. You pause to look over your final work and give a more than satisfied smile, grabbing the canvas sheet you had and covering the painting so Arno didn't see it (you also had to make sure he didn't peek; he seemed fond of doing that). Your hands had been stained with colors, and your apron had a few new splotches--you didn't mind, but you still hung up your apron carefully for washing and quickly scrubbed your hands clean.

With your hands a tad bit achy from the repeated holding of brushes, you stripped yourself of the painter's gown. You didn't even bother with a chemise or undergarments and instead grabbed one of Arno's button-up shirts that had a smear of purple paint. The mark was seemingly impossible to get out of the cotton, so he had unofficially gifted it to you, telling you that he'd wear it if you ever wanted to fling paint at him again. You grabbed one of the two pillows Arno claimed and tucked one between your thighs for comfort--the pillow usually replaced by his thigh. That, sadly, was the reality of being with an assassin; most nights, he wasn't around to fall asleep with. Thankfully, it seemed like you always woke up in his arms, your lover either sleeping soundly or admiring you.

You heard the chime of 12:30 on the grandfather clock before you shut your eyes for the night and fell asleep.

Awaking in the morning was a chore. The bed was so warm, cradling you like your mother did when you were a babe, and when you shuffled to get comfortable, an arm tightened around your waist. A knowing smirk cast onto your lips - Arno was back and pressed tightly to you. "Arno," you whisper, quiet enough so he could hear if he were awake. No response. Good, you hoped he was asleep - allowing you to get up and prepare your present for him.

So, carefully, to not wake him up, you moved Arno's arm from off of you and gingerly rolled out of bed, slowly standing up so as not to make the wood creak. Once your feet were planted on the cool floor, you stretched fully before walking away from the bed. Your easel still sat in the same position with the canvas sheet covering it; the oak stool pushed out to the side with a dirty jar of brushes resting on top of it. You noted that Arno had closed the windows and drawn the curtains, only slivers of sun peeking through. You first moved to open them just a tad so the chambers would be more illuminated--mainly so you wouldn't topple over something. Then, you moved over to your easel.

You took a deep breath and hoped that it looked okay after drying. Your hands gently took the cover off, and for the second time, you smiled proudly, hands clasped together. It wasn't alright; it was... almost perfect. Something was missing, and you couldn't put your finger on it. Then, it dinged in your brain. The drawing of us! You made your way back to the bed, but instead of getting in, you opened the dresser beside it and rummaged around until you found your trusted sketchbook. You flipped through it until you found the page already torn out and signed with a small love note. You paused, though, and your tummy did a flutter.

You forgot about this drawing. It was one of the first sexual ones you drew, a rather raunchy drawing of none other than Arno laid on his stomach, arms wrapped around a faceless woman's thighs and his face pressed to her cunt. This was still when you were too ashamed to draw yourself in these drawings - hence the faceless woman - but it made you fuzzy.

It wasn't like you and your boyfriend never had sex; quite the opposite. Many nights you had been spent on the bed, Arno deep inside you while some serious French kissing went on (not to mention the time when Arno's mentor had walked in on you deepthroating the brunette's cock in none other than the Assassin's base under Cafe Theatre, but you're too embarrassed to talk about it. You still get hot when you hear Bellec calling Arno 'pisspot'). While you've had amazing sex, you've never got the confidence to ask for oral. Arno offered it, but you said no; what if you taste bad or do something Arno doesn't like? The thought of a mouth down there always intimidated you, but that doesn't mean you haven't fantasized about it.

You were so caught up in staring at the drawing that you jumped when a loud crash came from outside, dropping the sketchbook onto the floor. "Merde," you almost immediately cussed, recoiling your foot from the damage of your toes being hit by the journal. It was enough to wake Arno up, and while you bent down to retrieve the book, he sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "Everything alright, cherie?" He said, and you were startled like you were caught doing something bad. "Oui, sorry to wake you." Arno gave you an understanding smile, sliding to the edge of the bed and leaning forward to find your waist. You tucked the sketchpad to your chest as he pulled you in for an embrace, his face resting between your shoulder blades.

"What were you drawing?" Arno muttered, and you tensed for a moment. "Sketches, love, it's nothing too important." You replied, and he hummed. "Everything is important when made by you." You didn't protest when his hand snaked from your hip up to your hands, his fingers grasping the edge of the book and pulling it free. His head moved back but still rested against you, and you heard him chuckle. Your face warmed, and for a moment, you willed the floor to open up and swallow you or for you to turn into a gnat and fly away.

"Is this woman you?" He asked, and you quietly said no. "Then you envision me eating another woman out?" You let out a defeated breath, shoulders slumping. "Non, it is me."

"But you did not draw your face?"

"It was awkward."

"Ah, then we should make it less awkward. Experiencing it may give you confidence."

Your head turns to peer at him from behind your shoulder. He has a cheeky grin that he knew he was doing - and you chewed your lips. "It's our anniversary, too. How will I marry you if I've never tasted you?" You blinked and chose to ignore the marriage comment, but as he pulled you into his lap, you knew you weren't getting out of this one too quickly. "I've heard from other women that it's relaxing if that quells your worry." One of his hands slides up your thigh and rests near the apex of your legs, thumb rubbing small circles into your flesh, and he kisses your cheek. You turn your body, legs swinging to rest on the bed and lean into Arno. He gives you a sweet look, brown eyes filled with what could only be described as love, and kisses your lips. He didn't get far once he pulled away; your hand brought him back in.

Your fingers undo the red ribbon, keeping Arno's hair tied while he bites your bottom lip teasingly. Once his hair was free and you could run your fingers through it, you allowed his tongue to slip past your lips and tangle with his. He tasted faintly of expensive red wine, and you drank the groan he let when your nails scratched his scalp. The hand resting on your thigh slid under the shirt you wore, warm fingertips running over your curves. Your noses bumped accidentally when you moved to tug on the buttons of his nightshirt, and neither of you went too far from the other. Your breaths still mingled as his hands aided yours in tugging his shirt off, the fabric falling onto the floor. Arno then moved both of you, so now you were lying against the pillows with your lover hovering above you. You exchange soft, loving smiles, eyes studying each other. Your hands ran down Arno's arms and rested against his wrists.

"Do you want to try oral?" He asked, genuinely curious, and you pondered. "Will you go slow?" You query, and you get your answer with the gentle, warming kiss Arno places against your forehead and then lips. His hands grab a pillow you are not resting on, and he says to lift your hips. You comply without question, and Arno slides the pillow under your butt, then moves your thighs apart so he can adequately slot himself in between them. The pillow gave a perfect angle for his hips to slot against yours, his semi-hard cock pressed into your inner thigh, and you could feel the wettening of your folds.

His lips find yours for a small kiss before he moves to your neck, sucking in a few light marks that can be hidden, and one of his hands trails down your body to your stomach, resting there patiently until you give the go-ahead. The attention placed on your pulse point made you let out a quiet whimper, and you circled your arms around Arno's shoulders so you could tug his body closer to yours. His bodily warmth was nothing short of what you called home, the south trail of his hand at your happy whisper of 'more,' the press of his thumb against your clit--it gave an almost sentimental feel.

There was loving, and then there was loving.

And he loved you like you loved him.

The way Arno loved you was nothing short of amazing? Spectacular? supercalifragilisticexpialidocious? There was no word for the way he treated you.

After slicking his fingers in your cunt, he pressed a final kiss to your lips before descending your body, leaving kisses every place he could reach. You shifted awkwardly once you two were positioned like the drawing--Arno on his stomach, his cheek pressed into your thigh, hands holding your legs apart. You did have to admit that it was an ego boost to see your lover between your legs with such a hungry look in his eyes. Arno pressed a kiss to where your thigh meets your leg, impossibly close to your cunt, and you felt his breath over your puffy clit. It caused you to shift your hips, a hand coming to rest on his, and Arno peeked up at you from his position.

Your insides became mush--there was absolutely no right for him to look heavenly, and you moaned as his index finger teased against your slit. "Do you want me to?" Arno asked, dipping his finger inside, teasingly curling in a way that he knew wouldn't feel terribly pleasurable. You debated--a new experience and most likely an intense orgasm, or you'll have to listen to your girlfriends rave about cunnilingus without knowing what to say next time you all met up. Most, if not all, your nerves of appearance had vanished and instead replaced by the anxious want of indulgence. Arno pushed his finger deeper, pulling back and repeating those actions slowly, awaiting your response.

"Mhm, oui. I'd like you to."

Arno smiled, and when he exhaled, you wiggled at the cool air against your warm cunt. "Merci," he hummed and leaned in, pressing his lips to your clit. Arno was gentle at first, careful not to overwhelm you. The rough pad of Arno's tongue pressed flat against your clit, and he let you move your hips, allowing you to draw your pleasure in what felt good. Once he thought that you had enough of a taste, his hands moved to your hips and pushed them down into the pillow. Your hands moved between Arno's resting ones or his head, moaning loudly when he sucked your clit with fervor. "Dieu," you exasperatedly said. Your thighs closed around Arno's head, not tight enough to hurt him but snug enough to keep him there, eyes closing when the tip of the pink muscle drew figure eights on your cunt. His finger slipped back in, this time pumping with a little more vigor, and when he curled them just right, that beautiful edge came into feel.

"S'il te plaît, oh mon Dieu, s'il te plaît," you whined and swore you could feel Arno smile into you. Your hips rocking against his face as well as your thighs clamped tight around his head, caused a slight burn from his stubble, but, shit, you couldn't care as long as he kept going. Arno's lips move up once again and slurp your clit, and "There, fuck! There, Arno, don't stop!" pours out from you. Another finger adds to your wet hole, and he gives a rough suckle just before you send hurdling over the crescendo of an orgasm. Arno lets you ride it out by grinding on his face, his nose bumping your clit in delicious aftershocks, and you eventually come down enough to release Arno's head from your thighs.

His head popped up from between your thighs, and he crawled up, bouncing down onto the bed beside you. One of Arno's hands rested on your stomach, and he asked, "How was it?" You gave a weak chuckle, "Le meilleur, fuck, the best."

"Another round?" He suggested.

"Always another round." You enforce.

Before Arno could move, you crawled on top of him and gently pushed your hips down so your saliva-and-slick-ridden cunt pressed perfectly against his hard cock. He gave that devilish smirk, hands finding your waist to push the nightshirt over your head, and you moaned as his hips met yours with equal enthusiasm. In more-or-less semi-clothed dance, you rocked against each other until Arno's hands slowed you, one going to slightly push you back just so he could free himself from his now wet undergarments. The fabric didn't get farther than his knees before you scooted back up and took him in your hand, running the head of his cock through your folds. After a few teasing passes, his tip catches your hole, and you slowly - yet easily - sink onto him. Once your lower half was pressed against his pelvis once more, Arno gave a few shallow thrusts and cupped one of your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh and playing with your nipple.

A few more seconds passed, and with a quick kiss to Arno's forehead, you tensed your thighs, hands pressing against his chest, and you began to set a steady rhythm of riding him. Your lover met your thrusts halfway with quick motions that effectively created a shlick shlick when either of you moved. The friction inside you felt good but just not enough to reach climax again, and Arno knowing this, moved his fingers to rub small circles against your clit. Arno cursed and rolled his head back onto the pillows. You watched his Adam’s apple bob with each thick swallow, and his thrusts became unsynced--a tale tail sign of impending orgasm.

With a few more messy thrusts, Arno pulled your hips flush to his and spilled deep inside of you. The warmth of his cum had made you unexpectedly orgasm, toes curling as you moaned. You stayed still and savored the moment, your spine failing to keep you upright, so you lay down on Arno's chest instead. Arno rolled over onto his side and took you with him, grabbing the closest blanket and covering you both up to keep from getting cold.

"Je t'aime," Arno whispers against your hair, and you softly hummed. "Je t'aime plus," you countered, but he won the battle with an "I love you the most."

"I peeked at the painting," he said after a peaceful silence, "I love it. You'll have to paint me nude next time."

#arno dorian x reader #Arno Dorian #Arno Dorian smut #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed smut #lynns posts

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ourcraftspace · 10 months

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Y'all, im so proud of this one. Idc the pics aren't great, the finished item wasn't so perfect either. But I had so much fun making this one. Story of the piece first, then pattern info below

This project has tons of meaning to me n I figured I'd share the story here.

I made this project for a friend who also crafts. We chat regularly about our crafts and she often makes art for me and everyone in my apartment. We have some creative overlap, but not a ton. Historically, I've not been so great at crafting for others and hadn't made anything for her yet.

In any case, we chat with each other about crafts we see that we are excited about or think the other may be excited about. One day when she was over, we were chatting crafts again and she mentioned she was seeing lots of temperature blankets in her feed n wondered if I'd ever thought about making one.

Truth be told, I'd never made one for myself and couldn't see myself wanting to make one. I let her know this as well. Not for any particular reason, just never felt the need to. It was a pretty casual conversation and we moved onto other topics.

Fast forward a bit and we are chatting again and she lets me know her partner had proposed. She said yes and they had set a date for two years in the future for a special date for them.

It clicked maybe a month later that this time frame, their engagement period, would be perfect for a temperature blanket. I had doubts at first if I wanted to make it, but started getting thoughts on how to work it all out. The only thing I had for certain was fall pallet for the colors as it's their favorite season. I talked it over with some other friends who also know her, and after many many many reassurances, I decided to go for it.

Honest, this is the most I'd ever planned for any project. I researched types of temperature blankets, typical temperature ranges for our area, how to divide the time frame and temperature range, I swear, it's a whole spreadsheet with many tabs of research and planning. In the end, I decided on 9 colors with about 7°F increments where each chevron represents the average temperature for one week of their engagement. I also made a knitted scale (not pictured) of the colors in order from coldest to warmest and wrote on the card for the gift how the scale lines up to actual temperatures just so she and her family could look back and get more info from it if they ever wanted.

It was helpful to tell myself during the process that she would never see it coming as I'd previously mentioned I wasn't interested in making one. And if she didn't know I was working on it, I could ditch it at any point if it wasn't turning out.

I managed to keep the whole project a secret as I worked on it. Making sure I got advance warning when she would come over so I could make sure it was hidden away, sometimes even just making decoy projects to keep her off the trail. She would definitely suspect something if I all the sudden stopped talking about crafts. It was honestly incredible as it expanded my ability to work on multiple projects at once, which I was definitely not so comfy with when I first started crafting.

As common for gift projects, there was a clock and oh gosh was it a race! I barely had it blocked before I wanted to give it to her (yeah, I know the deadline was only enforced by me), but I wanted to give it to her as an additional wedding gift. I ended up being able to gift it to her at the rehearsal dinner, so really just in time!

I'm so happy with how it turned out, and had so much fun playing with the process and planning for this project. I definitely learned a lot and would have done a few things different if I could go back, but overall I'm super proud of it 😊

Pattern is Frankie Brown's Ten Stitch Zigzag

#blocking doesnt fix everything #knit #blanket #temperature blanket #engagement #wedding #wedding gift #craftblr #knitblr #knitting #finished piece #finished wip #WIP #fall colors

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sneakyparsnipslicer · 1 year

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Real Recognises Real

[I've been admiring the work of @idesofrevolution for a good while now, and I really wanted to give a go at writing a transformation story. Granted I don't have any pictures of hot guys, I'll leave it up to your imaginations. Hope you will all enjoy]

Tom and Eric worked at an envelope factory, despite them only knowing each other for 4 months, the two quickly became friends. Granted shift patterns would often keep them off the same shift, they always enjoyed working on the machines together when they did, laughing and clowning around but getting the job done.

Eric had infact worked at the company a couple of years before whilst Tom joined a few months before Eric came back. Perhaps it was Tom's kind nature, but Eric soon came to trust Tom and open up about things going on in his own life, especially about the passing of a close friend of his, Anthony.

During one morning shift, Eric came down from further up the machine to let Tom know about a changeover the managers had just told him about. 'Hey buddy, just heard from Jake, we've gotta switch over to Size 4s, an urgent order just came in' said Eric. 'For fuck's sake, can't they just stick to the plan for a week for once?' moaned Tom. Eric nodded. 'I know mate, I'll go get the paper ready, you finish up this pallet and stop the machine' said Eric. Tom gave him the thumbs up and a tired smile. 'Hang in there Tom, if you'd like you can come over mine for a few beers in my garage tonight' winked Eric walking off.

Tom was quite surprised, he and Eric used to go out to town after work for a couple of pints but had never actually been to Eric's place. Tom thought about what he should wear. For such a good pair of friends, they both led very different lives outside of work. Eric would often skateboard with friends, play electric guitar, smoke blunts and the like whilst Tom enjoyed his own company, drawing, playing video games and attending conventions around the country. Tom remembered the first time Eric came over to his place he found Tom's Keyblade and had a fun time swinging it around and talking Kingdom Hearts for a while, playing Tekken 3. They both found a lot of respect for eachother's lifestyles.

After work Eric had to hurry off, but he texted Tom his address and told him to come around about 8pm. This gave Tom plenty of time to decide what to wear, settling on his favourite black shirt with rolled up sleeves, blue jeans and white trainers. It felt casual but a bit stylish. Tom set off to find Eric's house, eventually finding it. He knocked on the garage door and shortly after it swung up revealing Eric still in his work shirt but sporting shorts rather than the work cargo trousers everyone was provided.

'Ah, welcome in Squire!' said Eric, stepping aside and beckoning for him to come in. Tom chuckled and went in, finding a seat. Eric would often speak in silly voices at work, often calling Tom 'Squire' and making sentences that rhymed with the word, like desire, fire, drier, etc. For Tom it was a big reason why he loved Eric so much. 'Ooooh, you're dressed up all nice tonight Tommy!' said Eric looking him up and down, then proceeding to his chair where he'd put his guitar, sitting down, placing the guitar on his lap and sparking up a cigarette. 'Oh yeah drinks are in the fridge, help yourself' said Eric, pointing to the fridge on Tom's left. Tom looked inside, found a couple of Tyskies and shut the door, putting one on the table next to Eric. Eric looked up from his guitar strumming, smiled and said 'Cheers buddy!'. Tom found a seat, opened his can and sighed, taking a sip. Still strumming away, connecting some choice notes, Eric looked to Tom. 'What's up mate?' asked Eric. Tom shrugged his shoulders. 'Same shit, different day at work really isn't it?' asked Tom. Eric nodded in sad agreement. 'Oh, did you talk to Jake about training to become an operator on the machines?' asked Eric. 'Yeah, but he said they're busy training Jovanie at the moment, when he's all trained up they might see about finally getting me trained up!' said Tom sarcastically. 'You've been at the company 9 months now, right?' asked Eric, to which Tom nodded. 'It's a fucking joke man, you came along, they went and made Vince an operator, he left, Terry came and got trained, now he's a fucking knob and now they're passing you over again for Jovanie. It's bullshit!' said Eric. Tom took another sip of his drink. 'Yeah, I mean being an assistant is fine but it just sucks getting passed over for a job so many times. I had enough of that back at the food factory I was in a few years back' said Tom. Eric nodded and strummed away thoughtfully.

'Tom, I really want to teach you how to be an operator, trouble is we just never get the time. We both work hard, we both know this' said Eric, looking to Tom. 'Yeah, don't we fucking know it. Sorry I didn't bring my notebook if you're gonna give me some pointers now' said Tom, looking out the garage window, taking a drink. 'Well I've got an idea, but you'd need to call in sick tomorrow' said Eric absent-mindedly, looking out the same window. 'Oh yeah, why?' asked Tom expecting a good reason. 'Because I'll need you inside me' said Eric, strumming dramatically. Tom spat his drink out in shock and coughed, Eric looked to his friend and cackled. 'What the fuck Eric?!' shouted Tom, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and looking to Eric in disbelief. 'Well think about it buddy, I know you like me and honestly I like you too' said Eric, looking Tom dead in the eyes. It was true, Tom did like Eric a lot, he was decently built, dark haired and bearded with the perkiest ass he'd seen on a man, plus he kept him laughing through the tough shifts, but never did he expect an actual invitation like that.

'I mean, what good will that do? What, I sleep with you one night and you put in a good word to Jake for me?' asked Tom. Eric took a drag of his cigarette and shook his head. 'Nah man, it's like this. You helped me out a lot the past couple of months. When we met, you asked if I was ok, I said no and you heard me out, about Tony, about what I was going through and believe me I'm doing a lot better for it' began Eric. 'And I'm glad you're alright mate, but what's this got to do with anything?' asked Tom. Eric sat his guitar down and turned to face Tom. 'Something Tony used to say to me was 'Real Recognises Real'. And I see that in you. You're a genuine, good guy Tom, just not a lot of people see that in you. You work hard but those fake twats at work overlook you' said Eric. 'So what, we're meant to bond that way over that?' asked Tom. Eric shook his head. 'Tony was really special to me. He taught me a lot and helped me in some dark times, and you're doing the same for me, I'm a lot better than I was 4 months ago, and I want to help you' said Eric, stubbing out his cigarette and taking off his shirt. Tom looked away blushing, just what the hell was going on right now. 'Come on Tommy boy, clothes off' called Eric. Tom dared to look and there stood Eric in his nude splendor. 'Oh… shit…' said Tom nervously, looking away. Eric walked over to Tom and put his hands on his shoulders. 'Trust me mate, you'll enjoy this, hell I think you secretly are already' said Eric, looking at Tom's crotch. Tom looked down and sure enough he could see he was tenting. 'Fuck me, what the hell is happening?' asked Tom, wondering if he was actually having a fever dream right now.

'Choice is yours mate, I don't do this for just anyone. Don't keep me waiting too long, floor's cold' said Eric, walking over to the wall on the other side of the garage and placing his hands on it. Tom looked over at his friend, after a moment's hesitation he decided. 'Oh fuck it' said Tom, proceeding to strip. Both naked, Eric looked back at Tom, taking him in standing at full mast. 'Damn my guy, you've been hiding, huh?' asked Eric, chuckling. Tom walked over, shaking his head. He placed his right hand on Eric's right shoulder, and Tom heard a squeaking rubbery sound and saw his hand was beginning to sink into Eric's shoulder blade. Tom whipped his hand back. 'What the fuck?!' asked Tom, checking his hand. 'It's alright Squire, you'll know what to do' said Eric reassuringly. Curious, Tom placed his right hand back on Eric's right shoulder and the rubbery sound returned and Tom's hand began to sink into his shoulder. Eric began to moan a little as Tom pushed his hand further into Eric's shoulder and down his right arm. Tom began to feel a sense of euphoria as he saw his own arm sliding further in, their muscle masses combining. Tom couldn't quite believe this was possible, but he took a little joy in moving their right arm, flexing it a little. 'Keep going buddy, don't stop!' called Eric. Tom nodded and proceeded to place his left hand on Eric's left shoulder, slipping it on like a long glove. Now their arms were on the wall with Tom standing just behind Eric. 'Damn this is nuts' laughed Tom, resting his chin on their right shoulder, seeing Eric had also gone full hard-on. 'Yeah, but it feels good doesn't it?' asked Eric breathing heavily. Next Tom lifted his right leg and placed it on the back of Eric's upper right leg, it began to sink in almost like stepping into treacle. Once that leg had swelled up, he placed in the left one and all that was left was Tom's head, neck and body. 'Ok, are you ready buddy?' asked Tom. Eric nodded. 'Fuck yeah, buddy!' replied Eric. Tom looked down and positioned his dick between Eric's butt cheeks and began to fuck his way in. Eric started laughing. 'Oh fuck yeah, you know what I like!' called Eric as Tom felt his lower body and torso slipping in. 'Just a sec Tommy' said Eric, and he guided their right hand to make sure that Tom's dick slid nicely into his, stretching it out and making it longer and girthier. Tom could feel it too and felt an orgasmic feeling rush over him, this was ecstasy. 'Yeah we're gonna have some fun with this, ready for the head?' asked Eric. Tom took a breath and proceeded to move his forehead into the back of Eric's head. It slid easily in and with a loud noise like the snapping of spandex, the squeaking stopped and there they stood, a slightly more muscular Eric panting as he shot their load through their shared dick. Eric shuddered and looked up, smirking. 'You alright in there Squire?' asked Eric, feeling his friend inside his mind. He walked over to a mirror and they could see that while they still had Eric's face, their body had toned up rather nicely, Tom was a bit of a skinny guy so the extra muscle wasn't too out of place for Eric. Also Eric had some blonde highlights on his fringe, likely from Tom's hair. 'Damn, we're looking great!' cried Tom inside his mind. Eric nodded. 'Yeah, I know, and the night's just starting. You've got a lot to learn, but you get why I told you to write in sick tomorrow. I'll be showing you how to do the operator's job first hand' said Eric, finishing checking himself out and heading over to try on Tom's clothes. They slipped on quite nicely, if a bit tight.

'Yeah buddy, you know I've always liked your dress sense. It's a good look for us' said Eric, heading back to the mirror to check out how Tom's clothes look on him. 'Yeah, this is gonna be so good. How did you learn to do this man?' asked Tom. Eric looked into his own eyes in the mirror, intently looking to Tom's eyes behind them and smiled. 'That'll be my little secret, Squire' he said, winking and giving their even perkier ass a squeeze. Tom and Eric enjoyed their night together enthralled by their new honesty and willingness to explore themselves within the comfort of themselves, and the next day Tom got to knowing exactly how to operate the machine at work with Eric's knowledge through his eyes and hands. After work they returned to Eric's garage and through those same immense sensations they felt when Tom climbed in, Tom was able to climb out of Eric. They both put their clothes back on and turned to face each other. 'Fucking hell man, that was amazing!' said Tom, looking at his friend with the biggest smile and admiration. Eric returned the smile and nodded his head. 'When you're working with Jovanie next week, don't show him up too much, ok?' Eric winked, playfully knocking Tom on his jaw. 'Thanks for all this, it's been amazing. I'd be so down for doing this again some time' said Tom giving him a thumbs up. Eric walked over and hugged him. 'You're so worth it buddy, and I love you so fucking much' Eric said, he pulled back and kissed Tom on the lips. Eric opened the garage door for Tom and waved him off. Tom began his journey home excited to start the next week of work, whilst Eric sat back down, picked up his guitar and finally opened that can of Tyskie.

#transformation #gay #workmate #rubber #jockification #alcohol

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synnamonroll666 · 11 months

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This Movie Could Be A Reality, You Know?

Prompt 19: Telepathy Pairing: Syzoth X Fem!Reader Description: Bored while listening to an argument between your friends, you decide to use your telepathy powers for more naughty things and play a little game on the shy Zaterran sitting across from you... Warnings: Telepathy, Imaginary Sex, Imaginary P In V, Imaginary Creampie, Implied Masturbation And Sex... Word Count: 569 😏 Main MasterList: 🖤 Kinktober MasterList: 🖤 Synny's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil, @queenkhepri, @bihansthot, and @mmeerraa.

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I sat from across the room, eyeing Syzoth as we all discussed the realms' safety, like we all usually did once every month. Though I did care about the safety of others, today I was bored out of my mind. Why? Because the meeting mainly consisted of Johnny and Kung Lao arguing over who would be a better combatant in a situation of war. It was quite frustrating, given we had more important things to discuss.

On the other hand, I had other things on my mind as well. Hence, I was staring at the Zaterran from across the room. He seemed just as bored as I did, staring off at nothing with a deadpan expression on his features. God, he looked so damn adorable! A part of me wondered: if he looked so adorable bored, happy, angry, and sad—what other emotions would make him melt my heart?

That's when a very wrong idea popped into my mind. And when he glanced over in my direction and our eyes locked, I couldn't control myself. I opened up my mind just enough to share it with him. Then I began picturing a scenario—one that involved me, him, and the table we surrounded.

He laid flat on his back across it, while I bounced up and down on top of him—both of us completely naked and connected by the hips. I imagined how hot we would look together, skin colliding with skin as our bodies tangled in a sweaty mess on the oak wood beneath us.

I smirked as the image played in my head like a movie, and Syzoth's lime-colored eyes widened like two dinner plates. I just had to bite back laughter as his face flushed pine green while he moved both hands down to set upon his lap—clearly, he was hiding something.

It was so cute that I just had to keep going. I imagined myself bending forward to lick a long stripe down his broad chest, moaning as the taste of his sweat collided with my pallet. At this, Syzoth shuffled uncomfortably on his stool as he averted his gaze away from mine, clearly hoping the loss of eye contact would knock the image from his head. But he was so wrong.

The sharp and wet sounds of skin slapping against skin and juices mixing to make a delicious cocktail of arousal echoed through our heads, and my sweet little Zaterran didn't know what to do with himself. He seemed so small under my intense gaze, like he was so helpless and didn't know how to handle the heat of the moment.

Finally, I produced the grand finale for him, both of us moaning loudly as we came undone within our minds. Once my little show was over, Syzoth glared at me before vanishing. Then the door swung open, slamming shut with force right after. Everyone stopped mid-conversation and looked around the room and each other in confusion, not understanding what had gone on.

Chuckling lowly to myself, I stood from my seat and casually strolled over to the door before exiting through it. I knew men well, and I knew what Syzoth was doing at this moment. And if it looked even half as good as the little movie I had just played for the two of us, then I definitely would not want to miss it. Perhaps we could even my movie into a reality.

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#mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mortal kombat reptile #mk reptile #reptile #reptile x reader #mortal kombat syzoth #mk syzoth #syzoth #syzoth x reader #kinktober 2023 #SinnamonsSpicyFics

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sleepy-hart · 1 year

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So while working through game concepts and deciding what to work on next, I've been refreshing my Godot skills. Wanting to get back into 3D and prepare for doing more narrative heavy games. Made this demo to learn nathanhoad's excellent Dialogue Manager addon and also test drive Kenney's new Godot platformer kit.

I'm really, really enjoying Dialogue Manager so far and feel it has a tonne of potential. Think it covers a lot of things I've been looking for:

Direct engine integration is super useful, as well as using custom resources to store dialogue. They're also text files so can still use external editor to update

Straightforward syntax, reminds me a lot of ink and yarn. As well it's named node approach feels familiar

Able to access global game variables for conditionals, and having conditional based loops and choices is very straightforward

Also able to call methods directly within dialogue, which is super powerful when combined with signals (showing/hiding coin UI mid conversation, playing sound effect)

Lots of options for random dialogue choices - just used the single line ones for now but in docs have seen they also have option for setting custom probabilities, just ncie to add more flavour

Hyped it has a built in approach for translations (create IDs and reference CSVs) that looks like integrates with Godot's localisation tools - a bit of a future thought but glad it has stuff to help built in

Docs you can mention you can create dialogue resources at runtime. Can imagine this being very useful - an example would be creating a record of all lines seen to replicate Ren-py's "log" feature.

The methods for displaying dialogue are super flexible. At the moment just used their example balloons but looks like it should play nicely to let you build custom GUI - and maybe even multiple forms (e.g. dialogue scenes vs flavour barks in main game world). Think next experiments will focus on this.

There's a few more things I'm keen to learn and see if they're feasible with this - "disabled" choices that still appear but can't be accessed would be nice, also looking at how you can integrate this with an audio system for voice acting - I think they have an example that includes voice acting?

Only thing I'm a bit nervous of is it looks like it can only grab variables from autoload/global scripts, so when putting into actual game will need to take care with save systems and methods for loading choice variables into a choice master global so we aren't keeping too much in memory at once. But if I'm wrong on this assumption, or others have approaches, more than happy to be corrected on this!

Also really enjoying Kenney's 3D platformer kit and it's been fun and . Making the shopkeeper bot was super simple. All the details on the original character model are modelled so just adjusted the face and for changing colours just had to move UV islands for limbs and face to different parts of the pallete textures.

Haven't tried this technique for modelling and texturing before but seen it crop up a few times so will definitely experiment with this in the future. Also might help with optimization - I think most of the materials in the pack refer to this single image texture? By default the pack only has the model glbs and a single colormap png so assuming that's how it's working.

Original plan was to fill in the shop with another pack so there's a few little platform challenges within this, but they all needed collisions adding so might add that in future. But main aim was focusing on the dialogue and think we've got a good approch going forward, and highly recommend the add on for other Godot devs making narrative games!

#Godot #game dev #godot 4 #game development #dev log #game dev experiment #interactive fiction #dialogue system

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bouncybongfairy · 10 months

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Glorious Purpose

Rick Sanchez x Diane

Summary: After Evil Morty goes through all the files in Rick Prime's brain, he discovers there is one remaining Diane that Rick Prime created in hopes of one day killing her in front of C-137 to taunt him. Evil Morty makes Rick aware of the situation and decides to use the mind-blowers helmet to show this Diane the memories he has of them together.

Word Count: 5.0k+

(!THIS FANFIC HAS SEASON 7 SPOLIERS!)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Diane was getting ready with her friend Rena at her apartment. It was Friday and after a long week filled with the stress of university and work she was ready to go out. They were both sitting on her bed, doing their makeup using the mirrors of several pallets. Ranting back and forth to each other about how irritating life was. Diane just started her sophomore year of college and was content with everything going on in her life. Grades were so promising that she was expected to graduate early, she was financially stable, and for once had an amazing friend group. She ran the straightener through her long blonde hair, making sure to spray down any flyaways. After announcing that the flatiron was available, she took the blunt and stood up, examining her appearance in the mirror that was attached to the closet door. She was wearing a pink pleated mini skirt and a white tee shirt that she purposely bought too small, it was cropped and didn’t go much farther than her second or third rib. It had the word CUNT in pink sparkly font and to complete the look she slipped her pink platform pump heels onto her feet.

“You’re so fucking hot bitch,” her friend Tina said, standing beside her and taking a few pictures with her.

“We both are,” Diane said, pulling out her phone and realizing they should have ordered the Uber 45 minutes ago.

After ordering, they stood outside and smoked the remainder of the blunt. Diane got mad at Rean for dropping it onto her shoe but ended in laughter. The car ride was nice, they had a woman driver who complimented her nails and was amazed you could get duck nails to be so long. She was an older lady which made the interaction that much more sweet. They were dropped off in front of the entrance, where they waited in line, passing a pen back and forth with each other. Once they got their IDs checked by the bouncer, they made a b-line for the bar. Both ordered two shots of vodka each, downing them back to back. This bar was Diane’s favorite because, unlike a lot of today’s clubs, people actually danced. Not just standing around against a wall with their face buried in their phone. They also didn’t only play Hot 100s which is refreshing. They continued dancing with each other till the liquor kicked in.

Rick was sitting in the garage, tinkering with a device Jerry asked him to make that will keep certain bugs from fucking with his plants. He set it down and stared at the wall for a second, ever since killing Rick Prime he’s been feeling like shit. Making him question if he was just using him to fill the void of no longer having Diane. Now that purpose and mission have been completed, what will occupy that need for purpose? Alcohol? Evil Morty coming through a portal into the garage broke Rick out of his numb dissociation. Morty came into the room at the same time, creating a wonderful little family reunion.

“I need to show you something,” Evil Morty said flatly.

“The same way I need both of you to get the fuck out of here,” he grumbled.

“I went through Rick Prime’s brain files. He used the Omega Device on Diane but he found an existing pair of her parents. He locked them in the equivalent of a hamster cage and waited for them to produce a Diane. He was going to kill her in front of your Rick but obviously, we killed him before we could. I found the planet she’s living on, I don’t care what you do but considering you spent your whole life avenging her you might as well know,” Evil Morty said.

“You’re lying, it’s probably a trap to lure inferior Ricks into a death trap,” Rick said, chugging the entirety of his flask and then refilling it.

“I checked it out, I really don’t think it’s a baitline. He drew up blueprints of the location he was going to build to lure you and kill her,” he said, tossing the hard drive on his table.

“If I get there and she’s not there, I’m killing both of you and bring you back to life over and over again and use that to fill the void of having no purpose,” Rick spat at Evil Morty as he opened the yellow portal,

“Yeah yeah, Loki called he wants his character arch back,” Evil Morty said. ‘

“Did he s-say both of us?” Morty C-137 asked as they all walked through the portal.

Diane was currently bent over with her ass pressed against Rena as they danced to Bossy feat. Too $hort by Kelis. It was that point of the night when nothing seems real anymore and everyone’s morals began to loosen up. A blunt was hanging from her lips, she turned around so that she was facing Rena. Drunkenly deciding to have one more shot, practically skipping to the bar. Instead of getting a shot, she ended up getting a vodka cherry cocktail. She chugged the entire thing after Rena dared her to. Before returning to the dance floor, she made her way to the restroom. She was so intoxicated she didn’t even both hovering, she let her body plop down on the seat. She let her purse sit in her lap as she sat with her eyes closed for a while. This was the first weekend she had off all month, so the liquor was hitting harder than usual. Not to mention the only thing she ate that day was a chicken caesar salad at lunch. She finished her business and pulled out her phone to check how she looked, applying some lip gloss and fixing her hair before flushing. As she stood up, she stumbled a bit but sat her ass right back down when she saw a yellow glowing from outside the stall.

“If you’re fucking with me right now I-” she heard a hoarse male voice grumble from outside the door.

“Rick if I wanted to fuck with you I wouldn’t have helped you kill Rick Prime,” another young-sounding voice spoke.

Diane was really nervous, especially because she was sure it was a man’s voice. She figured that Rena was waiting for her right outside so if she ran maybe she wouldn’t have interacted with the creep at all. Taking a deep breath in she opened the stall door and was taken back by what she saw. It was an older man with blue hair standing in front of you, tears were welding in his eyes creating an intense look on his face.

“Is uh- is that Diane? Rick, you never said s-she looked like-” Morty said before being interrupted.

“I’m going to take him home, looks like you’re gonna have an amazing time here,” Evil Morty said before dragging the other Morty into a portal by his shirt.

“How do you know my name?” you asked, thoroughly confused and starting to wonder if your drink was spiked. He continued to stare, almost like he was in disbelief. He took a step towards her which made you step back into the stall.

“Dude what the fuck are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Seriously back-” Before she could finish, he blew some type of mist into her face. It immediately impacted her, making her slowly start to lower herself to the ground. Rick grabbed her which made her freak out a bit, like she was trying to get away but becoming too sedated to fight back.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” he said, almost whispering. She bawled her hand into a fist and hit his chest weakly before passing out.

When she woke up she couldn’t figure out where she was. Looking around at the random bed and the fact that she wasn’t wearing her clothes scared her. She was in a blue long sleeve that she was drowning in. Tears welled in her eyes, she looked over and saw her original clothes neatly folded in a pile near the bed. After wiping her eyes, not caring about the old makeup on her eyes, she went to open the door but found that it was locked. She started kicking and punching at it, hoping it would eventually give way. Starting to have a full-blown panic attack, she grabbed her heel and used it to bang on the door. This continued until Rick came through the door, which caused Diane to take a few steps back.

“Let me out of here you fucking creep!” she yelled throwing her heel toward him, he didn’t even flinch because the throw was so bad.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he spoke in a soft yet firm voice.

“I don’t give a fuck what you want- oh my fucking- is this guy fucking serious? You fucking kidnapped me!” she cried, running over to grab the other heel.

“I understand that this is confusing but I have a device that can help you understand,” Rick said, holding the mindblowers helmet in his hands. At this point, she was feeling so deranged as if she could explode at any moment, “I invented this device that can show you depictions of someone’s memories, I loaded my own on here so you could-” Diane interrupted by charging at him, armed with her heel. He dodged her so that he was behind her and put the mindblowers helmet on her, then waited.

The first memory was of the first time they met, both lived in the same neighborhood and went to the same school. That being said, they never really interacted with each other. Rick was similar to Morty in high school, quiet and awkward. Not to mention their extracurricular activities were polar opposites, she was a cheerleader and on the swim team. Rick was looking to be valedictorian and although he wasn’t very athletic, he had his charming moments. He gained confidence especially throughout his senior year from all the praise his teachers gave him. This is what led to Rick asking Diane on a date, she said yes because she secretly had her eye on him for a while. She always knew he was different but not in a superficial way. She liked how observant he was, most of the guys she was around talked about their health. Bragging about the stupidest things, like how much they could bench and how much alcohol was accessible to them. Those same boneheads were ready to fight if someone breathed wrong in their direction. There was one time when Rick accidentally bumped into one of the football players. As the jock cussed out Rick, who then walked up to Diane and asked her to hang out after the football game.

“Hey um, I know you’re on the cheer team but maybe after the football game we could get some takeout?” Rick asked, standing stiffly with his hands in his pockets.

“That actually sounds really nice, I have to run but, I’ll see you then,” she replied with a small smile on her face.

When Diane was at the game, she kept looking for Rick in the bleachers. He didn’t show up until the last 20 minutes of the game. When they made eye contact, she practically jumped in the air and waved with a big smile on her face. As they did their routine, she couldn’t help but stare as she danced. Seeing how intensely he was giving her a feeling she never felt before. Finally, the game ended and she gathered her sports bag and met him in the parking lot. He was leaning up against an old pickup truck. He not only opened her door but also put her bag in the backseat for her. She was still in her uniform and only then did she notice how short the skirt was. It was a stick shift and she thought it was hot watching him maintain conversation while operating the car. They stopped at Wendy’s and then made their way back to Dianne’s house, her dad worked night and her mom was always passed out by 9 pm. The first time Rick came into her room, she felt more embarrassed than ever. Normally when her little girlfriends came over, she felt really proud of her bedroom. When she showed Rick, it felt like she was showing an intimate and private. He set his food and backpack down and you excused yourself to change. While she was gone, he looked around the room for a bit. The walls of the room were navy blue and her curtains and bedspread were baby pink. He took in the little details like all the cosmetics she had scattered about on her vanity. The Beatles posters and other magazine cut-outs were stuck to the wall. The way her room smelled like vanilla or the white cat that lay at her windowsill, it hissed at Rick when he sat next to him. That was when Diane came back out wearing a short babydoll nightgown that had matching bloomer shorts. Her blonde hair was still down but she’d washed the make-up off her face, letting her freckles show.

“Is this okay?” she asked, playing with her hands, Rick didn’t speak. Instead, he shook his head, closed her agape mouth, and pulled his burger out of the paper bag.

You’d think they would have initiated some type of sexual act but instead, they talked for hours while sitting on her bed. He opened up about the difficult relationship between him and his father. She explained how her mother is crazy and they can’t go more than 5 hours without screaming at one another. They talked about future goals and career paths. They ended up falling asleep well, Diane did with her head lying on Rick’s chest. He stayed up, rubbing her back and admiring her face as she slept. It was too easy just to say he found her attractive, he liked that every guy talked about her. He liked that every girl wanted to be her. The way she wasn’t just a pretty face, she could hold a conversation and had goals beyond just being a mother and wife. Sometimes at night, he would get angry while thinking about her being with some other guy. They wouldn’t love her the way he did, they wouldn’t care about her mind and well-being like he could.

One night, Rick was doing his homework when the phone rang. It was 1971 so it was a push-button phone. Because there was no way to see a color ID, Diane would only let the phone ring twice before hanging up, singling to Rick that she was on the other line. Rick picked up the phone, happy to hear her voice until he actually did. She was crying, he could hear her mother screaming in the background. They’d been together for the past 6 months and Rick knew all about the relationship between Diane and her Mother. Her mother was Russian and really strict, a lot of the time she would throw the sacrifices she made in Diane’s face. Both her older brothers moved out and had families, so with only the two of them left at home, it was like a war zone. Maybe Rick was biased but Diane’s mother was over-critical of the 18-year-old. She did everything in hopes of impressing her mother but to no avail.

“Rick? I need you to pick me up right now. I can’t be here anymore!” she cried into the receiver.

“I’m on my way, I’ll be there soon just hang tight okay? I love you,” he said, his heart pounding out of his chest.

“Okay, I love you too but please just hurry okay?” she asked, her voice quivering.

“I’m coming baby,” he said, hanging the phone back on its receiver.

He grabbed his keys and coat, putting his shoes on before leaving. Before walking out the front door, he stared at his dad, who was passed out on the couch. He didn’t even bother taking his shoes or tie off, he shook his head in disgust before heading out. It was raining pretty hard, he turned the heater on before making his way to Diane’s. She only lived about a ten-minute drive from Rick’s house. Pulling into the driveway and honking to let her know he arrived. Diane came out, putting a couple of her bags into the backseat. Her mother followed her, screaming in Russian. He knew Diane was mad because she was screaming in a mixture of English and Russian, her face was red and tears streamed down her cheeks. Hair was soaked from walking back and forth from her house to Rick’s car. He just watched making sure nothing got too physical between the two of them. Once she packed the last of her things in the car, she approached her mother who was standing on the porch, laughing at her. Rick cringed as he heard the taunting cackling coming from the older women.

“He’ll leave, you think the world is a fairytale place. You think you’ve found prince who will build castle. Shower you will jewels and riches you’re blinded by desperation. He will use you, and you’ll let him because you have no brain, beauty is not enough to keep man anymore,” her mother spat.

“Just because Dad left you doesn’t mean I can’t find a man who will love me for real!” Diane said, more like screamed at her mother.

“Your father left because of you, I made him happy, I did everything right. It wasn‘t until you come that he leave and drink!” her mother screamed.

“I hate you, fuck you seriously you drove everyone away and then blame everyone but yourself, God you’re just such a cunt!” Diane screamed so loud that neighbors began coming outside.

“Go be with prince, go get pregnant, you’ll see how he loves you when pregnancy strips you of beauty,” her mother laughed as she slammed the door on Diane. She just stood there, she was completely soaked from the rain, and black mascara tears ran down her face staining her cheeks. She screamed at the door, just stood and screamed. Rick went and put his coat over her shoulder and directed her to the car. She was hysterical, not even comprehending what Rick was saying as he tried consoling her. He drove her back to his house, she was shivering and sobbing loudly. Rick was driving with one hand because she was death gripping his other arm, crying into her sleeve. He finally got her to calm down enough so they could sneak past his dad. He carried her inside, she clung onto him like he was going to disappear out of thin air. Bringing her to his room, when he set her down to go get her stuff from the car.

“No, please just stay here, please don’t go!” she cried, holding onto one of his hands with both of hers.

“I left the car on and I have to get your stuff, I’ll be right back,” he said, she didn’t protest but he also had to pry her hand off his arm to go.

He managed to get all her stuff on the first trip. When he got back upstairs, he sat on the floor for a while with Diane consoling her. After she’d calmed down for the most part, she wanted to take a shower. He had a bathroom attached to his room and got everything ready for her. He let her know everything was good to go but she wanted him to join her. He shook his head in agreement but couldn’t form any words. They’d been intimate before but never fully nude or actual intercourse. She got in before he did, and nervously he joined her amazed at what he saw. She was so statuesque, like the women in Playboy magazines. Her skin was so soft and it glistened as the water ran down her curves. She turned around to make eye contact with him, shamelessly looking down at his package before fluttering her eyes up again. When he imagined this moment he thought it would have been more sexy and intense but it wasn’t. Instead, they just sat in the water embracing each other’s skin. Even when her eyes were closed you could see how swollen they were from crying. They stayed there till the water got cold, Rick cut off the water and helped her out of the shower. He didn’t know what she would want from her stuff, so he gave her one of his shirts and a pair of boxers and socks. He even brushed her hair so it wouldn’t get matted as she slept.

“Do you think she’s right, do you think I’m the reason my dad left?” she asked, her voice getting lighter and cracking towards the end.

“You’re dad left because he was a pussy and didn’t want to own up to his responsibilities,” he said, crawling into bed with her.

“Promise? That she’s wrong,” she asked looking up at him, he knew she wasn’t talking about her dad anymore.

“I would only leave you if I died,” he said, pressing his forehead into her. She kissed him until her lips were swollen and hurting.

Ever since that night, they were completely inseparable. Everyone rolled their eyes, thinking there was no way they would last. They assumed Diane would leave Rick for a more mainstream athletic guy but she didn’t. He went to all of her swim meets and she supported him with all his college applications and the stress of his job. He worked as a paid apprentice for a watch store, it wasn’t the most exciting job but they were happy. The time between then and graduation seemed to fly by. Rick was valedictorian and Diane had to beg him to wear something nice underneath his gown. They ended up going to college together at Stanford, living in an off-campus apartment. He was trying to earn his Bachelor of Science while she was working on becoming a veterinarian. This is when the honeymoon phase ended and things started getting more domestic. Even though things were different, it didn’t mean things were bad.

One night after she’s eaten with Rick at the dining room table. He was still there, shoveling forkfuls of meatloaf and mashed potatoes into his mouth. He was working on his homework, his brow Every now and again wiping his hands so he could use his abacus. As she finished up the dishes, her body was practically shaking with anticipation. Diane had been saving up for months to buy Hewlett-Packard’s first scientific calculator.

“Look, baby, it adds and subtracts obviously but it can also compute logarithms, exponents, AND, trigonometric functions. It’s called the HP-35, God it looks so cool I wish I could get it,” he said, showing Diane the newspaper ad.

“Well why can’t you?” she asked.

“It’s 395 dollars,” he laughs.

“Oh,” she said, turning her head back to the TV.

She saved up enough money, working as a vet tech to buy it for him. He’d recently proposed, and the fact that he was more focused on her ring and marriage that he would sacrifice something that would make his schooling so much easier really touched her. She finished drying and putting the last few dishes away, she went over to the hall closet and grabbed the shopping bag. Rick was still hunched over his plate while working on his homework. She set the bag on the table in front of him, this made him look up at her. He had a bit of food in his mouth which made her laugh, she picked up the napkin and wiped his face.

“What is it? Did you have a chance to pick up my socks?” he asked, Diane laughed again before responding.

“Open it and find out,” she said, kissing the top of his head. He cleaned off his hands and opened the plastic bag. When he saw what it was, he set it on the table, pushed his chair back, and engulfed her in a bear hug. He lifted her up and squeezed her tight so she couldn’t move.

“I’m glad you liked it,” she breathed out, he set her back on the ground, took her face between his hands, and kissed her.

“You really are my everything you know that?” he asked before kissing her.

“I love you,” she said.

They both graduated with their degrees in 1976 and things were looking so promising. Rick already found a job working at a biotech company with a great wage and Diane was working as the lead veterinarian at her clinic. They bought a house that was perfect, two-story with a big garage. This worked out perfectly because it turned into Rick's workspace. For a while they just worked, saved up, and went on vacations every once in a while but things were beginning to get complacent. Every day the same routine, both Diane and Rick began to wonder about the concept of children. There was no reason why they couldn’t start trying but Diane was scared. Actually terrified of what pregnancy would do to her body not to mention having to birth a whole baby. Diane came home early one day because she was feeling so sick. It wasn’t until she walked into the store and into the pharmacy that it dawned on her she could be pregnant.

They used to use condoms religiously but they’d been married for years now and to put it bluntly, they got lazy. She picked up a pregnancy test and then made her way back home. Rick wasn’t going to be home for about an hour so she ran into the bathroom to take the test. She bought 5, just to be sure it was completely accurate. She was pacing around the bedroom for a while, waiting for the tests to develop. She took her scrubs off and walked back into the bathroom, every single test read positive. For a while, she sat down and cried, sobbing even. She turned on the shower, in hopes that it would help calm her nerves. It wasn’t like she was nervous about Rick’s reaction, she knew he wouldn’t be mad or anything. She was just scared of no longer having control of her body. On the other hand, I'm thinking about having a little mini-her. As she cried in the shower, she couldn’t help but think about what her mother had told her. About what caused her dad to leave, she knew Rick would think she was silly for thinking this but her insecurities were getting the better of her. When Rick came home, he was surprised to see her car in the driveway, normally she got home after him. When he found her she was still crying in the shower. Rick was really worried until she directed him to the tests on the bathroom vanity.

“Honey why are you upset, you don’t want to be pregnant,” he asked gently, turning the water off once he realized it was ice cold.

“No, I just.. I don’t know,” she sighed, getting up and wrapping a towel around herself.

“How do you feel?” he asked, taking his work clothes off as you changed into comfy clothes.

“I think it’s just bringing up past memories of things like my mom and stuff,” she said wiping her eyes. Rick joined her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her.

“I would never leave you, especially if you were or are pregnant. I know it’ll be hard because of your past but I love you and look on the bright side. We’re having a little baby,” he said, moving his hands to her belly.

“Yeah, we are. Isn’t that so weird?” she asked rhetorically which made them both laugh before sharing a kiss.

The pregnancy went along smoothly, she still worked until she was 7 months pregnant. Taking a break to start nesting and planning for the baby. Diane didn’t want anything elaborate, the baby shower was very intimate. Only close friends and family her mother wasn’t invited. The birth scared the shit out of Rick, he had so much anxiety watching her contracting. She looked like a cat that couldn’t get comfortable, shifting positions and writhing around. She kept reminding Rick not to let them do anything crazy to her which he reassured her every time. She pretty much blacked out while pushing, her face was so red, practically purple. She was so exhausted that she kept dozing off while waiting for them to bring her back. As the doctor stitched her up, Rick watched making sure they didn’t give her the husband stitch. Diane’s face was bruised from how hard she pushed, she was sleeping curled up on her side. Rick held Beth as he waited for her to wake up. The nurses thought she was a redhead at first but after they bathed her they realized it was actually blonde. He talked to her the entire time, whispering how much he loved her on her forehead. She was perfect, like a little doll. Rick couldn’t believe he made her or how tiny she was. Diane woke up shortly after, immediately taking Beth into her arms and gushing over her.

This was the last memory on the mind blowers, Diane ripped the helmet off herself and started crying. She felt like she was going crazy, the overwhelming feeling of watching herself live a completely different life made her want to throw up. Going to one of the corners of the room and just hyperventilating. Rick sat behind her so that his knees were on either side of her.

“Did we really do all that together?” she asked, wiping her face.

“A version of you, yeah,” he said.

“I can’t be that for you, I’m not a mom I don’t know how to do that yet. I wasn’t born like forever ago either,” she cried

“I’m not asking you to become a different person or my wife. I just worry about other Versions of me, getting a hold of you. They won’t be as… nice as me,” he explained. She turned around to face him, he looked sad and tired. Maybe it was because she was feeling overwhelmed and needed comfort but she moved to hug him. He wrapped his arms around her and she did the same. Tears streamed down his face, he was squeezing her so tight she couldn’t breathe for a second.

“I’m exhausted and my head hurts,” she said, which made Rick stand her up and start the shower for her. While Diane sat, soaking in the hot water, Rick got her a pain pill to help her sleep and ease all the anxiety this entire ordeal had caused. He waited on the bed until she came out of the bathroom, showered, and changed. He wrote down his number just in case he needed anything before he went to leave.

“Wait! Can you stay with me please?” she asked, sitting on the bed. He agreed and lay there till the pain pill he gave her kicked in. She ended up cuddling up next to him and sleepily protested when he tried to break free and leave.

#rick and morty season 7 #Rick sanchez x diane #diane sanchez #rick and morty fanfic #rick and morty spoilers #rick and morty fandom #rick and morty fanfiction #rick x diane #rick x diane fanfic #rick sanchez fanfic #rick sanchez imagine #rick and morty season 7 fanfic

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willows-adventures-in-words · 2 months

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Finally got around to putting together the first draft scenes of the story I'm working on. Currently, it doesn't have a beginning or a title (titles are hard…), but the pieces are slowly being put together. I decided to put both scenes together in one post simply because I feel like it'll be easier to deal with at the moment.

The first scene (also the first scene I wrote) involves Geoff, Kathy, and Cesar. In this scene Geoff's ability activates. The setting I basically took from the Seven Nation Army video. (I later learned where they filmed the video, but I don't feel like changing my story THAT much) In its current state this scene got a bit of a face lift. Had to change and adjust quite a bit.

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“Hey! Get away from her!” The man turned slightly to see Geoff. With his distraction Kathy kicked him in the legs throwing him off balance and ran back to where they left their bags. The assailant went after her. With a few long strides Geoff intercepted him. “I said leave her alone,” he growled, rage boiling below the surface. The man stiffened for a second before lifting the bat he was carrying and took a swing at him. The bat brushed against his shirt as he barely moved back in time. Before the man could pull back for another swing, Geoff ripped the bat from his hands causing the man to stagger. Grabbing his arm, Geoff forced him back upright before he shoved him backward against the pillar half a dozen feet away from them.

Cesar started up the steps back to where he was meeting up with the rest of his group. He could hear Geoff's voice. There was an anger he wasn't used to hearing and picked up his pace. He turned his head to see the scene unfold. His eyes widened and ran up the last couple steps. Geoff stalked towards the man slumped against one of the pillars. “Geoff!” Geoff spun to face him. Despite the distance between them, Cesar could see the fire in his eyes. He jerked to a halt, giving it a second to process. What looked like literal fire reflected in his eyes. Not a play off of the lighting. “Hey, it's just me. We're good.” And just like that it was gone.

Geoff turned back to Kathy. She stared, wide-eyed, hands to her mouth. He looked back to the man. The cracks in the pillar. The dusting of drywall that flaked off on top of him. The-

“Come on. We gotta go.” Cesar told them, tapping a hand on Geoff's shoulder as he hurried past. “We gotta go.” He ran to help Kathy with their bags, throwing one over his shoulder and grabbing Geoff's before practically shoving it in the other man's arms, telling him to go as he gave him a slight push in the direction Kathy started in. He quickly glanced about, grabbed the bat on the floor, and ran after his friends. Despite his panic to leave, Cesar knew he wouldn't be forgetting the image of the man slumped, dead, at the foot of the pillar, with his shirt and skin scorched with the imprints of Geoff's hands.

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The second scene involves Layne and Eli. This scene takes place pretty much a full day after the first one. The group got separated after the first scene. I've made some small changes to this one but nothing major yet since I didn't finish the scene that takes place right before it yet.

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They sat on the ground, mostly hidden behind a few pallets and milk crates, with their backs to the wall of the store as the setting sun cast deep shadows over them. Eli turned to his friend. He looked tired. Which wasn't at all surprising given how exhausted he felt. Neither one of them had slept well the night before. Opening his mouth, Eli went to speak but stopped when he faintly heard talking. Layne tensed and looked in the direction of the voices. Neither spoke. Just waited and listened. There was a raised voice but they didn't quite catch what was said when a gunshot rang out. Eli jumped. While Layne took a sharp breathe and held it. Both tense, hearts pounding, as fear of being found settled in deeper. They sat as still as possible, neither making a sound.

Finally, after a long ten minutes, they heard footsteps walking away. “Layne?” Eli whispered. Layne let out a shaky breathe. “You okay?” Layne looked down and wiped his sweaty, shaking hands on his pant legs. He tried to calm down, but his heart sounded so loud in his ears, and the only thoughts running through his head were panic ridden. They could have died just now. What if his wife and daughters had left home when all this happened. What if they were dead.

Eli reached out and gently touched his shoulder. Layne's breath hitched slightly at the contact before he looked over. “You're okay.” He was going to tell him 'we' but changed his mind in the last moment. “I'm sure they locked up the house and are staying safe. And maybe this chaos didn't even reach your neighborhood.”

“Yeah.” It was more of a breath than a word, but Eli understood. He pulled his hand back giving him his space back. Layne didn't dare say more. Worried he'd break. He looked away and swallowed as he tried to calm his fears. Though these types of fears aren't easily calmed. Eventually, he pulled his legs up so he could wrapped his arms over his knees and rested his head down on his arms.

Eli hoped his friend would be able to rest. He tipped his head back to rest against the wall. And hopefully his own worries would allow him to. Because despite not talking about, his fears were more widespread. He was concerned for their well-being. For the rest of their friends that they were separated from. And though he didn't have kids of his own, he was also afraid for his wife. Since shortly before all of this mess started, she had texted him that she was going out and wasn't sure if she would be back home before he was. So, he had no idea where she was. He could only hope she was safe.

#VoicePlay #Geoff Castellucci #Kathy Castellucci #Cesar de la Rosa #Layne Stein #Eli Jacobson #first draft #VP writing #my writing

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skyberia · 1 year

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Hey sorry to bother you but do you have any tips on selecting colors/shading? Your art always has such beautiful pallets and shading!

oh tysm!! it's not a bother at all i love talking about this stuff lol

my tip would be to use gradient maps! that's my entire process for colour picking these days really. i'm not sure it's actually Quicker than selecting colours individually, but it sure feels that way. easier too to get a base palette to work off of imo

at its simplest my process is something like:

"colour" in the drawing in greyscale

settle on a gradient map i think looks nice

use correction layers to adjust the colours as needed (as in, i look at it and go "it looks nice, probably would look nicer if it was yellower", or whatever)

throw in some shading and or colour variation using layer modes (given how i tend to go for warm colours usually, i really like throwing blue/purple into places of shade to make it look more interesting)

decide i'm happy w/ it and render it

but if i must be fr with you most of my pieces are not this straightforward lol. most of my drawings will have at least 2 or 3 gradient maps at varying levels of opacity at play, and usually even more correction layers and so on until i get to the colours i think work best. it's really just a good and quick way to establish a base!

for an idea of what my layers usually look like:

even if you can't fully get behind the idea of Leaving Most Everything Up To The 'Maps (short way of saying 'gradient maps') using one on top of the colours you've already used at like, a low opacity or a different layer mode can still give your drawing a bit more Pizazz, in my experience. they're fun! give it a try!

my favourite gradient map sets, and i guess the ones i'd recommend, are cb gradients 2, 3, 4, and 5

Hope This Was Of Some Use To Ya

#misc #this Was. something i just started doing only like last year. i still have more to learn i'm sure #if you squint this counts as me elaborating on colour values

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sparkles-oflight · 7 months

Text

Welcome Back

If I had a nickel for every time I changed the title of this story, I would have a lot of nickels.

Synopsis: After not seeing or talking to each other for over a decade, Bojan and Kris finally meet again: in Damon's apartment. Will chapters 1 and 2 tell a new story?

Disclaimer: Please think of these as characters and not the actual people. I don’t encourage anyone to send this to any of the actual JO members nor do I encourage people to force any type of relationship between anyone.

Contains Agnst

My fics can be read out of order and with no context, but IT'S HIGHLY RECOMMENDED TO READ THE FOLLOWING:

Sunny Side of London (for a reference) Kamila (for a reference) Metulji* "("prequel") THE SHADE* ("prequel")

Thanks @anxious-witch for the proof-reading and being so patient with me and the amount of times I changed the story structure and everything sdhfjjwsifiw.

Kris walked into an apartment he hadn’t been in in years, yet he felt as if he had returned home. The black and white decor, the familiar smell of flowers in the air, and the meticulously placed lights around the room.

- Are we ready to do this? – someone asked.

He looked around to the owner of the voice, Damon. He had asked him to re-create the first photoshoot they had ever done, more than a decade later. He explained to Kris he wanted to see his progress in life and his healing journey throughout the years with his art.

Kris immediately hugged him.

- Hello, love. How have you been? – Damon tried to reassure him.

- Hi, Damon. – he still wouldn’t let him go.

- Are you sure you want to do this? – he pulled Kris back and pushed his hair to the side – You don’t have to do it if you don’t want it. If you aren’t comfortable that is.

- No, I can do this.

- Great then.

Damon grabbed Kris’ hand and sat him down.

- Is this still okay? – he asked as he opened the eye-shadow pallet.

Kris hadn’t worn anything “girly” in the past decade. In fact, he had cut his hair again, he had stopped traveling, and finally settled down in the Netherlands.

- Yes, of course.

Damon re-tried the whole process, everything he and Kris had tried before, he did it again, now both having different life experiences...

- You know what’s truly sad? You are not on the stage anymore.

- Damon...

- I know. It’s just... – Damon showed some frustration in his voice tone – What happened to those brave Slovenian boys I met? Kris...to this day, I don’t know what happened to you.

- I...I don’t know.

- My dear... – he set the camera aside and crouched down to meet Kris’ eyes and held his hands firmly – Do you still believe you are beautiful?

- I don’t.

- That’s not how things should be, now, are they? – Damon inclined his head against Kris’ – I didn’t want to say this, but Kris...You lost your sparkle.

- I know...

- Stop giving me two-word answers. You know you can tell me the truth.

- I really want to. But I don’t know how to.

Kris thought about what happened... With the band, he felt great. He felt amazing in front of crowds of people and doing what he loved. Singing and playing guitar on stage made him feel great.

But then Kris remembered... how the band broke up.

And how they – he and Bojan - broke up.

After Bojan left the band, he deleted his social media and Kris also deleted his number to not be tempted into calling him. He deleted all messages as well, “just in case”.

- Damon, it was complicate-

- I’m sorry to interrupt. – A familiar voice from the outside came in. – The door was open.

Kris and Damon looked at the new visitor. It was Bojan. With more grey hair than before, but Bojan. With some wrinkles, but Bojan. With a sad face, but Bojan.

Bojan looked at the model. It was Kris. With short hair, but Kris. With a tired face, but Kris. With smooth hands now, but Kris.

- I’m sorry...I decided to come in earlier for my shoot, but I can-

- You can stay. – Damon said, but then turned to Kris – Is that okay with you?

Kris nodded. He just nodded.

The session proceeded, though no one talked, only Damon who would give some directions to Kris from time to time. He wouldn’t talk, but his eyes would often drift to Bojan and meet his. It was awkward.

- Okay, you guys need to talk. – Damon got up.

- I’m clearly a distraction. – Bojan interjected – I can come by later.

- No, I’m going to take a smoke break, you guys talk it out. I don’t want to shoot soulless images. – Damon got pushy about it and Bojan just sighed.

He left, them alone. Kris didn’t feel the need to talk to Bojan. They hadn’t seen each other in years, nor uttered each other’s name unless it was necessary. So, why would he?

Bojan took a step ahead, Kris stared at him.

- You don’t want me here, I get it.

Bojan was about to leave, but then he abruptly changed his decision and decided to sit in the same corner as Kris.

- Hey, man how have you been? – he asked with a huge smile of his. However, Kris noticed how his teeth were now more yellowish than before, not to mention his breath.

- You reek of alcohol. And tobacco.

- Like you didn’t smoke or drink.

- I quit. It’s not a good example.

- To whom? Kris’ it’s not like we are in the band together and have to keep an image. – he laughed – So, what have you been doing?

- Why do you care?

- Okay, not a man of words I see. Unlike the Krisko I knew.

- Don’t call me that. – Kris placed his chin on top of his wrapped arms, shielding himself.

- I became a sociology teacher, actually, and I do ghostwrite for some artists too. You have probably heard some of my words on the radi-

- I don’t listen to Slovenian music anymore.

- Oh... – Bojan put on a sad smile – That’s a shame. You are in the Netherlands, right? I talk to Maks sometimes. I know you told him not to, but don’t get angry with him, please.

- I won’t. It’s his life. I just get pissed when some people don’t mind their own business.

- I swear he didn’t tell me anything else. I’m completely unaware of what else happened in your life.

Kris sighed. Bojan was not going to leave him alone, and, even though both of them are now completely different people, Kris still can’t stay quiet around Bojan either.

- I traveled across Europe trying to find a purpose after the band... Ended up marrying a Dutch woman...Her name was Fleur.

- You couldn’t let the flowers go, could you? – Bojan laughed at his own awful joke – I stayed alone, meanwhile.

- I don’t think anyone would want you smelling like that. Not very flower-like.

- You said “was”, what happened? And you didn’t even invite me to the wedding?

- We divorced.

- Oh, shit, I’m sorry, man.

- We have a daughter together. – he blurted it out.

Bojan was shocked considering the reasons why they broke up. That was a bomb to just casually drop. Kris was always repulsed by being near a child, now he’s a father?

- I guess...I guess you decided to live my dream for me then, uh? – Bojan awkwardly smiled – What’s her name?

- Lily. – he said it very fast as he realized the flower theme he had going on. – She’s four.

- How do you feel about them? – Bojan looked up. – You know, I don’t know what is like to have my own family...

Kris didn’t want to say it... As much as he loved Lily, he only married Fleur because it was the “logical thing to do”. They dated for a while, and he was already in his late 20’s so people around pressured him into it. Then Fleur wanted a kid and Kris never really thought too much about it, he just wanted to see Fleur happy - which led to their marriage falling apart slowly. She complained about him being her “Yes-man” as he was too scared to have to lose someone again. She ended up filing for a divorce.

- I love Lily and I loved Fleur. Though it was never the kind of “love letter” love. I never wrote a love letter to Fleur. – Kris also looked up – But love letters are ridiculous.

- Did you ever write me one?

- Yeah. When I was...ah – he tried to recall it – 16? You were dating Ivana back then. I just never sent it.

- Oh, then yeah. 16 for sure. It’s not like I had a lot of girlfriends. Or boyfriends-

- Have you ever written love letters?

- If you listened to Slovenian Radio, you’d know. – Kris smiled at that, for the first time since he arrived in London – Ridiculous. – Bojan mocked his voice.

Bojan placed his hand on Kris’ hand. Kris sighed... All the words they told each other on the breakup day were still resonating in his head.

- If I could, then I would, staying always by your side – Kris softly sang – If I could, then I would, giving up this famous life.

Bojan turned to Kris, surprised by hearing him suddenly sing.

- Where the sun doesn’t shine – he continued – Where the ceilings are all white.

He felt as if he had heard the song before but not from Kris’ lips. Did he write it for someone else?

- What good is life if I, - now that he hears it coming from his lips, it acquired a new meaning – can’t have you by my side?

It felt personal.

“Kris, I can’t do this anymore”, he said on that day “I’m burned out. I’m tired of living under expectations. I’m tired of my life being a spectacle. I can’t even control who’s watching and what they want to do with me!”

- Hey, you can’t do this any longer. – Kris closed his eyes as he kept singing – I know...the flame no longer glows.

“Don’t leave us. Don’t leave me.” He begged.

“Please, Kris...I just want to have a normal life and be able to love you without being judged. I just want to settle down, have a family with you, and leave this all behind.”

- Living in the spotlight, where everyone can see – Bojan felt Kris’ hands shake – Just how much there is between you and me...

“You want me to quit what I love to settle for a family I don’t know if even I want?”, Kris was angry that day...

- You’re tired of all the expectations – and Bojan ponders how angry is he still – You’re dying to be free of judgments.

“Bojan, I would done anything for you. Every day I put myself out there, risking my life for just being who I am, it’s not a “you” thing. We were supposed to be on this together, but you just want to call it quits?”

- You’re tired of these damn frustrations – because Kris won’t even look at him in the eyes properly – You wanted a life voided of instruments...

“Then I can’t do this anymore! If you are leaving the band for us, then you don’t understand our connection: Music!”

- If I could, then I would, giving the life you so deserve – and it took years for Bojan to understand that connection – If I could, then I would... keeping writing songs about you...”

“If you can’t because you are too scared while not even considering the fact that I also put myself out there every day, then it’s not even worth it! Go! Live your normal life. But without me”.

- But I guess we know we must go... – suddenly he realized Kris was singing the song differently from what he remembered – ‘Cuz you called it quits...

Bojan definitely remembers hearing this song played on the radio by some random pop star who was famous at the time, but he doesn’t remember this part. Nothing rhymed here.

- I don’t do music if you are gone...

- The song feels incomplete.

Kris sighed.

- I don’t like writing in English much... I sold it to someone else before I even completed it. They altered it quite a lot though. – Kris started fidgeting with his fingers, letting go of Bojan – I wrote it for you actually. It was my last song. I haven’t written or played since.

They heard the sound of Damon coming back, and in sync, they turned their heads to the source of the noise.

- I hope you guys had some time to talk. – he entered.

- We did.

- I have a proposal... Kris, I told you this story has 5 chapters. Last time 3 and 4 were linked, interconnected if you will... – the boys both pieced together what Damon was about to propose – Will you guys let me have chapters 1 and 2 together now?

- I’m up for it. – Bojan immediately agreed – If you take me on a date after. Coffee?

Kris pondered.

- I’m sorry, I can’t do this. It’s ridiculous. – but he started leaving.

- Krisko, wait! – Bojan grabbed his arm – Damon, can we have another moment?

- Bojan, we can’t just keep telling Damon to go off, he’s doing his job!

- Kris, I’m sorry for all the pressure I made you go back then. I really tried to let you know sooner I was sorry, but you’d already left Slovenia! All those songs I wrote were for you!

- I already know how stupidly sorry you are! Do you really think Maks doesn’t send me your music? Or Jan?? Songs in Serbian!?

- I...Kris-

- Bojan! – he called for his name in a repressive tone, but then he abruptly hugged Bojan, and both felt tears running down their cheeks – I just missed you so fucking much.

- I know... me too.

- I never wanted you to leave... you said you wouldn’t if I asked you.

- I’m so sorry. – he talked between sobs and the few pieces of clothes that separated them - I loved you so fucking much, more than anyone could.

And he does...Even after years apart.

- Welcome back home. - Kris smiled at him.

♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩

Afternote: I kid you not, I started this fic two weeks ago and I kept not being happy with it. I'm still skeptical about it. I even had to write a "song" (it's not a song lmao) to be able to find the path I wanted to take. The original story was so much different haha

Polaroid Photos Universe

#joker out #joker out bojan #joker out kris #bojan cvjetićanin #kris gustin #kris guštin #bokris #not me writting this on the train lmao #shame zero (0)#joker out fanfic #fanfic #writing #polaroid photos universe

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justsomevoltronstuff · 2 years

Note

Hello! :D I know it’s a silly question..but i was playing sims(as one does) and I wondered if you had any hcs of the paladins interior style? Like what colors (not only their signature I guess)and type of furniture? What type of home/apartment?I’d appreciate the help! Have a nice day!

okay absolutely have not had mental capability for like anything creative but I’ve also started a job in real estate so interior design make me go brrrrrrrr lately-

Shiro I feel like is either really plain and like necessities only or really homely. Like he either has the most basic cheap couches and tables and chairs and like, the plain white plates you can by at Walmart for like 10 bucks (you know the ones) and all the walls are just whatever color the previous owners/renters had them as so he has a random light pink room, a green room, etc. OR OR OR you walk in and get smacked in the face by comfort, like he has knick knacks and pictures and random antiques littering every surface, he has a china cabinet with the fancy dishes, he has a cabinet dedicated to coffee mugs and like only two of them match cause the rest of that set broke ages ago, all the other Paladins have their own designated mug, like it’s never specified but like, you KNOW the teal one with the cow that god knows where came from is Kieths, and that’s just how it works. I don’t think he has a specific color pallet bc it’d depend on like what the house looks like, and it’s either minimalistic or the vibe of the house.

Kieth has an apartment, his bed is on the floor, the only reason he has a couch is because Lance and Hunk just showed up with it one day and left it there. His cabinets are boxed Mac and cheese and canned beans, he uses paper plates/bowls and plastic cups/silverware, and there’s only like two pictures in the whole place, one of him and the other Paladins (and Allura and Coran) and one of him, his mom, and Kosmo. He’s not much of a stay in one place type so he doesn’t have a lot BUT if he were to decide to settle and make a home it’d have a garage, a huge backyard, and enough space for any and all of the Paladins to visit, and let’s face it, Lance probs did most of the decorating, as long as Keith has a place to sleep he doesn’t really care much what it looks like.

Lance is Aesthetic™️ and you can’t change my mind. He’s full on redecorating his house for every single holiday, his attic is a maze of shit only he knows how to navigate. His kitchen is probs black and white with a pretty accent color and his dishes all match the kitchen color scheme, like the fancy ones with the swooshy designs, ya know? So. Many. Throw pillows. Lol. Has pictures of his family and the paladins everywhere, along with various pieces of art. Walking in is like stepping in a magazine but at the same time feels so comforting.

Hunk plants everywhere. I don’t know how to explain it, but he’s a total plant dad. His kitchen is immaculate, the kind of place you love to hang out in, also has mismatched mugs bc he likes to collect them from places he’s gone and it’s a go to gift for him. I think he has a bunch of books on everything from How To guides to the entire Riordanverse. Tools scattered everywhere and various projects littering almost every surface. Has a blanket his grandmother knitted him draped over his couch. Random Voltron merch everywhere bc he can’t help himself when he sees it.

Pidge is either a clean freak with a perfectly put together house (as long as you don’t open those drawers) or it’s a fuckin mess and a half with a walking trail from one room to the next but otherwise there’s no way in hell. Also has projects literally everywhere, collections of random space tech, we’re not gonna question it. Probs a fairly monotonous place, lots of whites and greys, has an entire bookshelf for family pictures and sentimental things but aside from that, it’s the house of a scientist. Has a plush green lion on her couch. Has two perfectly cleared out mostly untouched guest bedrooms in case her family or any of the paladins visit.

~Admin Rori💜

#voltron imagines #voltron headcanons #voltron legendary defender #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #lance mcclain #hunk garrett #pidge gunderson #katie holt #shiro headcanons #kieth headcanon #lance headcanons #hunk headcanons #pidge headcanons #voltron preferences #voltron x reader #admin rori💜

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borrowedtimeandspace · 3 months

Text

A Hard Day's Night

Alien

From this list of g/t prompts

Part 1 of 2. [Part 2]

AU: The Donna Trilogy side story; set during the interlude, 'If I Could Turn Back Time'

Note: Look, I only had Dan Lewis for a day and a half and he is best boy. I just wanted to keep him in my pocket forever! But that's not what we're doing today.

Obviously I'm playing this year's g/t July way more loosey-goosey. This prompt got long enough that I could split it into two parts, and I'm debating whether to post it to IICTBT once both parts are out since it doesn't quite fit there. Idk, let me know what you think. PLUS I have another idea for the Alien prompt that I'm very excited about.

Also I'm on the Epic the Musical hype train and I had to really stop myself from titling this 'Pride is a Damsel in Distress'... I'm fine

~~~

“Thanks again for the hand, Dan,” said Wilma as she set the last pallet of donated goods on top of the stack. “As always.”

Dan Lewis gave a small shrug and a smile. “Y'know me, happy to help.”

Wilma only just began removing cans of soup from the stack when her mobile's ringtone blared. With a grumble she shifted everything into one arm to fish the phone from her pocket. Her face immediately fell.

“Of all times…” she sighed, then sent an apologetic look Dan's way. “Mind if I…?”

“Take it,” Dan waved her off and took the cans from her. If it was who he thought it was on the other end of that call, he reckoned it might take her a while. “I'll get this sorted, no worries. Take your time.”

Letting him unburden her, Wilma hurried to step outside. “Glad to have you back,” she called over her shoulder as she lifted the phone to her ear and turned the corner.

Dan stood there for the briefest moment of reflection. It hadn't been long at all since, as far as most were concerned, he'd returned from his stint traveling. He couldn't exactly tell anyone where he'd been traveling, of course. Even after all the madness of the Flux, there weren't many people on Earth who would remotely understand life with the Doctor.

Now it was just a matter of adjusting to living life day to day back in the 21st century. Falling back into old habits like volunteering at the food bank gave Dan a sense of normalcy that didn't feel mind-numbingly mundane. He was still helping people, making a difference in their lives. So long as he could see them smile and know they wouldn't go to bed hungry, that was enough.

While he went about stocking the shelves, something skittered by in the corner of his eye.

Whatever he'd caught a glimpse of was small but fast, and probably would have gone overlooked by anyone else. Living a dangerous lifestyle throughout time and space even for a short time had heightened Dan's senses for these things, but as he glanced around the storeroom, he couldn't spot any further signs of movement.

Dan decided to leave it for now. It didn't exactly feel like a threatening presence just yet, and he could keep an eye on his back just in case.

He'd just started stocking donated pasta on a higher shelf when a clatter behind him made him jump. He whirled around to find a few cans of soup rolling across the floor after what seemed to be a spontaneous spill from a low shelf.

What got Dan's feet moving faster than usual was the other sound he could swear he heard in time with the crash– a faint but pained voice.

Dan hurried to kneel next to the mess, shaking his head when he noticed some volunteer before him thought it would be a bright idea to stack the cans on their side in a pyramid one shelf up from the floor. No wonder they'd gone rolling.

He was about to start reorienting them, but paused at the sight of something tucked slightly under one of the cans that remained on the shelf, near the base of the former pyramid. It seemed at first to be a tiny bundle of dark cloth, until Dan looked closer and saw part of it moving ever so slightly up and down. Like it was breathing, quite quickly.

Before he thought better of it, Dan reached out a hand to brush back some of the fabric.

The little bundle flinched, and Dan jerked his hand back with a choked, startled sound. Some of the cloth fell away as the thing twisted to face him, revealing it wasn't an it after all. Seemed to be a he.

Dan and this tiny figure stared at one another with wide eyes for a moment, the latter with what seemed to the former like little pinpricks of cobalt blue. Now that he had the context of what he was looking at, the wee fellow looked human-like, only he was small enough to fit in Dan's hand.

The bloke had a darker complexion than Dan's fair one, and short copper-red hair that he'd kept hidden under a hood before. His chin had a bit of scruff in a similar color, though Dan noticed a patch or two that were turning white. Among all the questions flooding Dan's head, he briefly wondered if he and this little person were of similar age.

That all went away as he took in the rest of the teeny figure, and found that one of his legs was jammed under the can.

Dan’s hand moved in again the second he saw that, pausing only when he saw the little fella recoil and raise an arm in defense. He tried not to let his heart sink to realize just how frightening he was.

“S’okay,” Dan whispered in a way he hoped was reassuring. “Not gonna hurt ya. Let's just get you outta there.”

The tiny man frowned but didn't seem swayed. Dan went ahead anyway, moving slowly so as not to startle him again. With one hand he held the other cans in place to keep them from rolling about again, and with the other he lifted the one pinning the poor man's leg.

With the weight lifted, the man wasted no time rolling away and jumping to his feet, but he gave another pained grunt and stumbled away to lean on an upright-standing can. Dan put down the one in his hand and made sure it kept the rest in place before he removed his hands just as slowly.

“Alright?” Dan asked, watching with concern as the man slid himself down to sit. He got a sharp side-eye in reply before the man focused on examining his leg. Biting back a wince to watch him tenderly prod at his ankle and shin, he added, “I could fetch a first aid kit if you're hurt–”

“I'm fine!”

The little man seemed almost as surprised by his sharp response as Dan was, and they ended up in another short staredown. When Dan seemed to back down without further argument, the man huffed and mumbled, “I will be fine…”

Dan was quickly distracted from the observation that the little fella didn't sound Scouse and the curious thought of how far he'd come to get to Liverpool, when the man drew up his trouser leg for a proper look at the state of his ankle. Bruises dark enough for even Dan to plainly see mottled the lower half of his leg, and the deeper parts were a little swollen.

Then he blinked when he thought he saw the bruises were getting smaller. Sure enough, he watched the edges slowly turn purplish, then yellow, and then return to light brown much more quickly than Dan had ever seen a bruise heal.

“Are you one of them aliens, like?” Dan blurted before he could think twice about it.

He found himself once again locked in a wide cobalt-blue stare as the little head whipped around. Dan couldn't tell if he was defensive or simply surprised by the question.

“I…what?”

Dan gave a shrug. “Wouldn't be the first I met. Couple a’ my mates were aliens! And if ya want, I could put you in touch with someone who's worked with em a lot, if you're stuck here and need any help gettin’ home–”

“I'm not a bloody alien, man!” he snapped, shutting Dan right up. “And I don't need your help!”

“Alright, mate, easy now,” said Dan, putting up his hands in surrender. “Only a suggestion…”

He saw the man tense up to see his hands, so Dan put them down. Miniscule shoulders released the slightest bit of tension as he went back to tending to his ankle.

Dan noticed the swelling hadn't gone down much near the joint, nor had the bruises lightened yet. “How long does, er, that usually take?” he asked tentatively.

This time he was ignored. The man sharply shoved his trouser leg back down to cover his ankle, and he set about carefully laying it out in front of himself.

#gtjuly #gtjuly2024 #doctor who g/t #sfw g/t #g/t writing #sfw g/t writing #doctor who crossover #the borrowers crossover #the borrowers #borrower OC #The Donna Trilogy #If I Could Turn Back Time #IICTBT #light injury #giant tiny #giant #tiny #g/t community

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leenfiend · 1 year

Text

I thought the Two Slow Dancers comic would be a fun opportunity to break down my process a lil bit cause this was a lot of undoing and redoing and adding so for any ppl curious it will be under the cut!!

So to start off I actually only thumbnailed what is now page five and six, the original image in my mind was them reaching out to each other in different seasons clothing, I considered just making an animated version of that but then I connected it to the two slow dancers scene I had imagined in my head a month or so back and wanted to make it part of a small narrative:

(I actually did page six first - u can tell by the way my writing is nearly incomprehensible that this idea came to me like a vision in the night)

But then looking at that i said - well surely that doesn’t tell the story enough. I need more. And then I played two slow dancers on repeat for probably an hour while I thumbnailed a surrounding narrative for those two pages and ended up with this mess:

And from there I actually started working on the lineart two pages at a time - I like working on freakishly large two page spreads because to me it helps the flow feel more cohesive, I don’t look at them as isolated pages until I get to the shading part of the process.

But once I sent it to some ppl for feedback and reread it myself a million times I felt like the story still wasn’t reading the way I wanted it to - two out of six pages were “flashbacks/memories” pages and that ratio didn’t really allow for the other four pages to read as a cohesive story in my opinion so I kept trying to workshop two more pages for the front and I went through a few iterations:

I thought at first I would show the outside of the garrison, give the audience more of a setting, and then show the flyer so we know Keith is getting ready for this celebration. But it was too literal for me (even though what I ended up doing was still pretty literal lmao). So then I started with the phone/text messages as a story telling device:

Also this is an example of how I almost always draw the comic panels before I decide what goes in them haha, unless I’m really sure what images I plan on focusing in on the panels almost always end up informing what goes inside if that makes sense. But I finally ended up here when I decided “that’s good enough”

I even did most of the lineart for this composition before I decided the imagery of the jacket was just too repetitive, like we don’t need THREE PAGES of keith putting on a jacket.

So i kind of just moved the left page over to the right, and left the right page blank for most of the rest of the comic process. I finished most of the lineart on the rest of it before I finally circled back and decided to go with a tweak of what I originally thought was a lame idea (I had this image in my head of the lions silhouette against the glow of the Earth for the first page, but with the lyrics “the ground has been slowly pulling us back down” I thought it was just too cheesy, especially because that’s not what the lyrics mean either in the song or in the context of this comic and I didn’t want them to be perceived as so literal)

So this is the thumbnail I landed on for that which eventually turned into the actual final page.

Once I had all of the thumbnailing done the rest was pretty fun work! Just lots of going back in and detailing out the scribbles I had first put down. Now in terms of color, I actually have a secret. Most times I don’t color much at all? It depends on the piece but for most of my comics what I do is this -

I flat greyscale color everything and then use a color curve adjuster inside of procreate to pick a color pallet:

color adjusters are ur friend for picking color pallets i'm TELLING YOU!! I used to have a lot of trouble with cohesive color comps but it's a lot easier for me even without using this method now. Anyway I usually leave it here, in my other comics I don't have any shading or background elements outside of the panels but I figured since I was working so much on this comic anyway, I might as well light it a bit. So I basically just scribbled over the whole composition with a purple marker set on a multiply layer and then erased out the places I wanted light to hit, and then added a soft light layer with colored lights to give it more of a party look:

The only hang up I had during the coloring process of all this was how to color the "memory" pages. I originally just wanted them to be more pastel/blue, I thought that would make them look distinct enough. So I painted/shaded this whole page before looking at it within the rest of the composition and deciding it didn't read well at all and ended up sliding the saturation down to zero and calling it a day:

But I'm happy with that decision because it allowed for the "coming into color" moment with the other memory page and I think it connects better to the rest of the comic visually that way. And that was the whole process! There were tons of other little adjustments I made along the way and other composition things I tried out but I do tend to erase instead of iterate in layers so this is the process I have to show you! As a little bonus behind the scenes, here's the time lapse replay of that initial thumbnail for all eight pages! (it is sideways just because it's so large so if you're on a phone/tablet/laptop just turn ur screen sideways otherwise I'm so sorry lmao)

#my art #this is so long but i like 2 talk about process stuff lol #i also would love to see anyone else do a breakdown like this i LOOOVEEE seeing how other people work.#and feel free to steal any way I do anything ever (it is not stealing it's simply learning and using artistic practices that u are drawn to #colleen thoughts #also i use the 6B pencil in procreate for all of my linework ever and all of my thumbnailing im a one brush type of person #and it's like a default brush too lmao

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