#first time i drew him he looked a bit wonky

[thesillyvivi]

remember thst time i said i had a dream kenshi and vergil met

no text ver

[ambreiiigns]

update is that i made One attempt at the copia thing and didn't look Good and i was not gonna put extra effort on fuckin. Copia. so i finally designed human-esque mountain & small earth and special instead :^)

[crepes-suzette-373]

Ichiji's right eyebrow being wonky is something that I'm not too sure about, because as an artist I understand that mistakes happen when you're really tired. I very often screw up my drawings when I'm tired too. Missing details, accidentally drawing something backwards or mirrored, drawing wrong accessories on the wrong person, etc.

But there are two examples where I felt like it looks too glaringly-visible to screw up:

As an example, there has been multiple times when I draw Sanji or his bros with their eyebrow backwards, so errors do happen sometimes. But the curl actually just flat out missing like this is a bit weird.

There's other panels where you can argue that it was meant to be covered by hair, but sensei just accidentally drew the hair parting too far to the left. The two above are just too dead-on to be missed.

And my whole point of bringing this up is the above examples also happen to be incidents where Ichiji is clearly displaying intense emotions.

The child panel, for example. Ichiji has been shown to be irritated at Sanji in other scenes, but this is the only time that he got so angry he started beating up Sanji. In all other times, he just watched, and Niji and Yonji are the ones doing the beating.

See below, how the brow under the bangs seems like it's drawn in the same manner as how Sanji's one is drawn, and see how different it looks when the curly brow is properly drawn:

Ichiji just looks so intensely enraged at that moment, it feels like there has to be something else that is wrong here.

I left that first one as the raw, because what he says (生意気) in this context seems to be better translated as "How impudent/how insolent". Why is he this angry about being hit? Why is he so angry that Sanji is "different"? Why say "don't touch me"? That punch was obviously weak and did nothing.

Judge was just unimpressed when Sanji tried to fight him, so what is Ichiji so angry about?

(incidentally, this is probably why a few people got concerned when Sanji called Vegapunk "insolent man")

As of now, we don't know what's happening yet, but you don't see this level of reaction from Niji and Yonji.

I have previously wondered if Ichiji's modifications are actually also "messed up", and that the eyebrow being weird might be indicative of that.

There were also panels where it seems like he's having emotional moments, like the adult Ichiji panel I highlighted on top (details and explanation in this post). If the weird eyebrow is explicitly happening during the emotional outbursts... that sort of makes him Sanji's reverse, which possibly implies that when Sanji's brows flip, it also looks like this:

There's also other lore analysis/theory I have that really points to Ichiji and Sanji being mirrors/opposite counterparts, which I probably might write up later, and if all of that is true, I don't know yet what sensei's intention for it is.

There's one additional scene where you might be able to argue the curl is also missing, but this one is not as glaringly strange as the first two:

If that was actually not a mistake, it's another point to the "display of emotion" argument.

It's less obvious in English, but in Japanese, he was using a rather unusually rough speech in this very specific panel. There's not enough dialogue to be truly certain that this is out of the ordinary, but again, if this is actually something that's not normal and the eyebrow is actually also weird... well, we have questions to be asked.

[sparkle-skitty]

FANFIC PIECE/GLIMPSE

I spent a STUPID long time on just this ONE BIT here so I am showing it to everyone whether y'all like it or not

For the record, this is just a scrap from the fanfic I am writing (attempting to) and because I am not a linear writer*, everything here is subject to change if/when I get to stringing it all together more coherently. So basically, it's a demo.

I proofread it a few times, but it may not be perfect because I am tired and also was originally writing entirely third person instead of second person but found myself mentally scripting in second person - so if anything sounds wonky, I'm all ears!

(*Meaning, I do not write start to finish, I write exactly what I feel like writing regardless if it's chronologically next. The scenes are coming to me in patchwork!)

Anyway, click read more for the excerpt.

CW for: mentions of child abuse, mentions of bullying, very slight blood, very slight violence, emotional outbursts/shutdown (y/n is neurodivergent), dislike of children (again, y/n is neurodivergent), aaaand I'm not sure what else to tag so lemme know if something is needed

(For the record, y/n has some of me plus some other things I've seen with other neurodivergent people written into them so HOPEFULLY it sounds at least somewhat relatable to others in the community)

You nearly ran into one of the play structures, too interested in watching what was going on by the door to the Daycare. An adult was getting more and more agitated, while Sun held a child behind him, with unimpressed and shrugging daycare workers passing to leave as their shift had ended. The only one who had remained had been talking between the adult and Sun, but was now finally giving up with a very loud "ugh!", throwing her hands in the air as she turned away to clock out.

It was now out of sight, and you were quickly putting away the armful of toys you had carefully balanced against you into the trunks they belonged, in order to get back to the scene asap. Your Employee Fazwatch buzzed on your arm, at first making you growl "Ugh, now what?!" but your irritation evaporated as you realized it was a message from Moon.

"That adult is not one of the child's authorized pick-up persons."

Moon must have caught you staring through the cameras. You instinctively glanced up at where you knew the nearest one was, knowing likely Moon was staring back from his little cyberspace world in the Attendants' shared body. But you quickly turned heel and speed-walked over to Sun.

You were certainly frustrated that, once again, poor Sun had been left behind to deal with the remaining Daycare children alone, but you were more angry now that they had so purposefully let him take the fall for the rules and regulations that even Fazbear Entertainment had to follow by law.

"You'd think by now I'd be over this," you thought. "Not like I've never had a job before where everyone was only looking out for themselves." But you knew very well it was because it was Sun, your friend, the sweetest guy in the world (probably), that you took it so personally. And also, maybe a little because most of the workers still treated him like a mindless machine, aaand possibly because a child was involved in a potentially dangerous situation.

Okay, maybe it made a little sense to take it personally.

As you drew closer, you realized Sun's hold on the child wasn't to keep the child from going to the adult, but rather the opposite - to keep the adult from getting at the child. At every turn he was putting himself between the adult and the child, and the boy looked nervous to say the least.

Your anger suddenly sparked into a blaze of fury upon the sight. No matter how much your rational side tried to tell them that it could be only because the tone of the conversation was scaring the kid, your feral inner child was screaming for blood, having the scene be a bit too familiar and hitting too close to home.

Sun caught sight of you from the corner of his eye, and turned to look with relief that someone might be coming to rescue them, only to be a little taken aback by the absolute darkness that was emanating from your being. The dangerous glint in your eyes, the snarl that curved your lips, revealing teeth tightly ground together - it was something he hadn't yet seen from his new friend. But once you looked at him and you both locked eyes, he saw a metaphorical mask rapidly apply, especially as you noticed the man had finally looked to see what Sun had been gazing at.

The mask replaced the baleful expression with one far more bright, friendly, and chipper. Though the animatronic could see the cracks in the disguise himself, he knew it was practically impossible for any random person to see. He couldn't help but stiffen as you approached and settled beside them. He had only worked with you for a short time, but it seemed so out of character!

"Hi there!" you greeted, launching into your Customer Service Voice, enthusiastic with a great smile, your eyes crinkling. "Is there something I can do for you?"

The man waved his hand around in anger, "It's about time someone came, besides this damn robot!" Sun tensed at the word and the inflection, but stayed quiet, watching with interest at how you hadn't even flinched with the man's loud and sharp tone.

"I am so sorry about that, looks like we're the only two left in the Daycare right now! What can I help you with?"

"Tell this metal idiot to give me my nephew, will you? I'm already running late!"

You turned to Sun, smile never faltering. "Hey Sunny, is there a problem?" you asked openly.

Sun caught the hint and quickly replied, "This person has not been set as a designated guardian for this child in our system."

"Ah, well!" you turned back to the man glowering at the both of you. "I'm afraid that we can not legally allow you to take the child from the Daycare, sir. I'm terribly sorry, but I'm sure you can understand the reasoning here. Just imagine if those weren't the rules! Kids could be carted off by just any ol' person, even criminals and bad guys!"

As you spoke, you gestured - and even winked - with great enthusiasm. Your hyper-upbeat tone not once fell, but the language used was definitely a subtle accusation.

"I'm afraid you'll have to forgive my friend here, but that's the protocol!"

"I want a manager!" the man spluttered, now thoroughly furious.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, a hand going to your mouth before you tilted your head in a bow. "I'm terribly sorry, again, sir, but..." you then lifted both arms towards Sun, gesturing as if presenting him for the first time. "He IS the manager. It's his Daycare after all! He's the boss, the head honcho, the big cheese, emphasis on the big part," you quietly added to the end, tone now finally slipping to indicate the threat.

Sun couldn't help but also notice that you were doing your nervous trait of babbling and trying to joke. But he wasn't so sure this was anxiety or a matter of barely containing yourself.

"Please leave before we have to contact security," you said after a moment of silent fuming from the man, optimism now back but with an edge to it, giving firmness to the command. "If the rightful guardian or guardians can not come, they will have to contact us themselves to add you in. Otherwise, we will not be able to release this child to you."

The guy looked around a bit, grumbling and muttering angrily, before very suddenly lurching forward towards you. Sun's arm shot out automatically to snatch the man by the shirt, to stop him and lift him away, but to his shock you made your own automatic response of swiping at the man's face.

Blood swelled from parts of the claw marks on his stunned expression, but not enough blood to actually run. You had mostly gotten him to the side of his face as he had turned at the last second to look at Sun, traveling just a bit across his jaw and cheek.

The facade was dropped in an instant as you huffed and shook from the adrenaline, then shrieked, "TRY THAT AGAIN, I FUCKIN' DARE YA!"

"Language!" Sun quickly reprimanded you, glaring at you. You tore your gaze from the man's bewildered face to look at him, then looked away, snorting through your nose and folding your arms across your chest. He sighed in exasperation, knowing that sort of maneuver all too well from the children and, well, Moon.

"I am not a brat," Moon grumbled in his head.

"I didn't say anything!" Sun internally responded back.

You looked the man up and down, feet now off the ground as Sun held him firm, but he wasn't struggling. You snatched the radio out of your pocket and calmly made the call to security to remove the man from the premises.

Even as the man was escorted out, Sun's internal monitors showed your heart was still pounding away. But when you glanced at the child, your look softened to one of embarrassment, or shame? You knelt down next to him.

"Hey, sorry about that kiddo, that... must have been scary," you mumbled.

Your interactions with the children were always awkward. You had told Sun you hated kids, but on top of that also had no idea how to deal with them. Every time you were like a deer in the headlights, a newborn giraffe trying to learn to walk - unsteady, unsure, and bewildered by everything.

Sun had so far learned that you at least knew enough to be nice to the kids and to excuse yourself when it got to be too much, which was more than he could say for most of the daycare workers, which was ironic given that you were, well... a glorified janitor.

The child nodded, sniffling. There was a pause, and then the boy released Sun's pant leg and ran over to you, wrapping his little arms around you. You were surprised, then cringed.

"Um, there there..." you said, patting his back gently. To your horror, you realized he was still crying and sniffling. Sun watched with amusement as your face silently twisted into disgust. You looked up at him, pleading with him to get the child away somehow, but Sun shook his head, crossing his arms. This is now a punishment, he decided. He knew you wouldn't dare just shove the kid away.

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

You were scrubbing at your shirt with several sanitary wipes. The snot might be gone by now, but you weren't sure and still felt unclean.

It seemed like it took forever for the child's actual guardians to show up, and Sun was not only doing the checkout, but also the report about what had happened.

You had allowed that child to tug your hands, hug you, and you even picked him up when he gestured so. Gross gross gross, little snotty kids were the worst. They had no sense of cleanliness or manners regarding germs. You shuddered at the thought of wondering if he even wiped himself, then flopped back into the security desk chair with a groan. To take your mind off your child-germophobia, you pulled out your phone and began a round of Candy Crush.

Your timeblindness caught you up again as you suddenly looked up to see Sun standing on the other side of the desk. He had his arms folded again, and wore a frown.

"That wasn't being a very good role-model, you know."

"Heck off, I'm not Daycare staff, so I don't--"

"Ah ah!" Sun cut you off, "You ARE Daycare staff, buster, even if it's just to clean, and as you so eloquently put it, I'm the boss here. And I say you need to be a better role model."

"Well personally I like their spunk," Moon snickered in his head. Sun ignored him.

There was a moment of silence between you two, before you shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh well."

Sun's eyebrow twitched with irritation. "Don't "oh well" me! You were cussing, AND you got physical with a customer--"

"Not a customer, just a dick."

"Language! Let's just hope you didn't teach the little one to solve our problems with anger and violence."

"Right, let's hope he never believes a grownup will stand up for him again in his life," you growled mockingly.

Sun was stunned, feeling frustration rise. He put his head in his hand and let out an exasperated sigh. "You can stand up for people without resorting to attacking others."

"Not always. Not every time." you answered lowly.

Sun noticed your heart rate was starting to climb again, and you were beginning to shake. Well, if there's one thing about this whole debacle that was a positive, it's the fact you make it so obvious when you're upset or angry.

"Let's calm down," he said soothingly. "This is just a discussion, you don't need to get angry--"

You stood bolt upright from your chair, your voice raising, "This isn't a discussion! You're chastising and-and-and down-talking and-and... belittling me! For defending myself! Because-because what? The kid might see it and-and think, oh man I-I-I should probably do something if someone... if someone just-just.... comes at me!" You were stammering and practically vibrating with the sudden spike in temper.

Sun leaned back with his hands up, a look of surprise on his face. "Woah, woah, woah! Hold on! I'm sorry if that's how I made you feel, but the rules--"

"DAMN THE RULES! The rules are out of order! Th-th-this whole court is out of order! Stupid! Fuck! AUGH!"

"Now that's enough--!" Sun cut himself off when you slammed your rear back into the chair and spun it, rolling it back in the process, and faced the wall. Hands crossed, face red, you slumped in anger and drew in on yourself.

Sun let the silence settle, giving you both time to relax, and for you to come out of your shut down. You pulled out your phone and started blasting aggressive music.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed wearily. "Y/n, please, I'm sorry," he started, voice calm but raised enough to hear over the music. "I am not trying to treat you less, I'm sorry I made you so angry..." he lifted his head up at a thought. "Wait... why are you so angry? You were furious before, too, when you were coming to check on us."

You didn't answer, but you had lowered your foot and were now bouncing your leg.

"Give it a minute," Moon spoke to Sun. He paused before continuing, a hint of a grin in his voice, "I have to say, it's interesting to see someone put themselves in time out."

"They've shut down, Moonie, you know what a shut down is."

Moon hummed. "They did choose to sit in a chair and face a wall, though."

"Can't you take this seriously?"

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of wheels on the floor. You had gently kicked off from the wall and were now rolling comically slow towards them. You had lowered your music, and still had a pout, eyes downcast, and your arms crossed. You bumped into the desk without a word.

More silence. Sun waited patiently, shoving down the anxiety trying to creep its way up. Nope! Not gonna go there!

Eventually, you swallowed your pride and spoke up. "I'm... sorry," you began slowly. "I lost my cool. It's been a while since I've dealt with... the public... on a, mm, personal level. And I'm sorry I scared the little guy." As you spoke, you turned the chair to sit properly at the desk, placing your elbows on it and clasping your hands.

You then looked up at Sun, and glared. "I'm NOT sorry about standing up for him. As a general thing. Even if I did it wrong."

"I'm on their side." Moon stated matter-of-factually. "...And don't you dare think what I think you'll think of that."

"The only thing I think of that is that you're both a bad influence on each other."

Sun's shoulders slumped. Well, it's a start, at least. He can work with this.

"Again, I'm sorry too, the rules are a bit of a... erm, a big deal to me, to put it simply." Sun stood poised to offer his explanation, even though Moon suddenly turned sour at the mere idea of talking about... that.

Meanwhile, you furrowed your brows, looking down at the desk again. You were also battling with bringing up some vulnerability, and chewed your lip. He did ask, but is it too awkward to bring up now?

You took a deep breath, "Anyway... I lost my cool because... I..." your voice trailed off with a drawn-out croak, but Sun didn't interrupt or interject. It took a minute for you to build your courage again.

"Well... when I was... a kid," you spoke haltingly, taking your time in order to keep your voice and emotions level. "I was... bullied. A lot. Really badly. Just for being weird, I guess, I dunno... And, nobody helped me. So I just, took care of it myself. Or, well, tried to." You glanced back up at Sun, "That's... ssssorta why I had that, uh, kneejerk reaction, when that dude tried to- when he just- when he came at me like that."

Sun and Moon were both listening intently. It wasn't often their human coworkers would open up, and in particular, you had made yourself a bit of an anomaly with your unpredictable statements and odd behaviour - an anomaly that they had taken a liking to, admittedly. Maybe they just liked anomalous people, since it seemed to be a pattern.

"That... doesn't quite explain what made you angry in the first place, though..." Sun said softly, not wanting to accidentally spook you from talking it out.

You sat back, your chin tucked in and your eyes cast down, and crossed your arms. Sun feared he had in fact actually caused exactly what he was trying to avoid, but you spoke back up.

"Yeah... yeah... the bullies... the worst ones were adults."

Boom. Bombshell.

Sun and Moon would have exchanged shocked glances if they had the ability to. Oh yes, they were well aware that adults could be bullies to other adults, including animatronics, but to kids? Unthinkable! The very notion sent their protocols in a little tizzy.

"Teachers, mostly," you continued. You took a deep, shaking breath. "But... then there were, of course... family members. Specifically my parents. Especially when I started getting into fights, oh they hated that. I was an embarrassment to them for not being like..." you waved your hand around, attempting to find the word, emotions building and causing brainfog. "Y'know, uh, demure and-and delicate and sweet and pretty and... and all that sh- crap..."

You settled back into the desk chair, your arms now laid against the arms of the chair. You still didn't look up, and began idly picking and clawing at the ends of said armrests. You took careful, slow breaths, trying to keep from bursting into a fit of some sort - most likely a crying fit, if anything. It'd been a very, very long time since you'd actually talked about all of this, and for precisely this reason.

"So, um, you can imagine - I think you can anyway - the kinds of things they did to try and--"

"They... they what?! They thought THAT was more embarrassing than their child being bullied!?" Sun exclaimed, flabbergasted.

The suddenness of his interjection widened your eyes for a minute, then you gave a laugh - a hollow, awful giggle that was laced with all the anger, hurt, anxiety, and vulnerability you were feeling at the moment.

"Um, yeah!? Kids will be kids, after all," you sneered mockingly. Not at him, but at the past. "I was just overreacting and causing a scene, of course." You slumped into the chair so low you could have easily slid out. "Of course..." you muttered. Your outburst had been sufficient to release all that negative energy you'd been building.

"So um... yeah... that's why I was... prrrrobably more than a little ready to go feral on that guy... He just had that vibe, you know? You know the one."

[funkyspacealien]

Rabbit of the Night He'll suck the orange out of your carrots (Sketches n' processes under the break! It's a REAAAAAL long one)

I've been meaning to draw a piece that actually includes a background instead of a character standing in the void. The issue that arises is that... I just didn't have any good ideas for backgrounds, lol. Partially the issue is that I tend to design the character first, which makes it challenging to draw stuff around them. Since around the time that I made this piece was October and the big holiday was Halloween, I figured I could do something within the theme. I've been meaning to draw my character, Nosferatu, again since they have always been one of my lowkey favorites of mine.

An older piece of the character, which you can see with the others here The character was quite macabre, which made it perfect for doing something slightly spooky. The cape also gave me a great idea for making something more visually striking, as well.

My first attempt. As you can see, I tried to do a thumbnail this time so I can have a better understanding of the amount of space I have to work with. I highly recommend that you do something similar if you struggle with doing backgrounds. Though, I think I ought to make it a bit more square, lol. I had to tweak some things to fit within the standard square shape since I drew everything at a wonky angle. I was inspired by Soul Eater and Majora's Mask when it comes to the background design, especially with the moon having a prominent appearance. I knew that was a consistent thing I wanted to keep throughout the iterations. The flowing cape was heavily inspired by Spawn and the artwork of Lelouch from Code Geass

I always found it to be such a striking iconography for the characters. Despite being an inanimate piece of clothing, it adds a lot to the design. Spawn was always an intimidating dude, but having that cape overwhelms the viewer and takes up so much screen space every time he wears it helps give him more of an otherworldliness. You may not truly understand who or what is he, but you may get the vibe that he's someone with great power and importance. It's befitting of someone who is viewed as the best spawn of the devil. I find it also interesting for a character like Lelouch. Now, I never watched the show he came from, only understood the basic premise from various sources throughout my life. Pardon if my read on the character is incorrect, but to me, he's quite the scrawny guy and perhaps lacks power of his own. Despite this, he runs a rebellion and goes under the alias of "Zero". He dresses up as Zero, including the cape. With it on, his form became much more imposing yet concealed. It gives him a sense of royalty, which you might attribute to the likes of Kings or Queens. Someone with power. Sorry for that brief character analysis tangent, lol. It's just something that I thought about when creating the character of Nosferatu. I find it interesting that something so simple as a cape can help give a feeling of power. It's something that I feel everyone subconsciously think of and not realize. Back on topic, the rest of the composition I wasn't super satisfied with. I sorta lean into the "Dracula" look the character had by having the castle in the background, but I think it came off as very flat. I also thought it made things visually unclear. A bunch of things off in their own corner instead of organic guiding the viewer's eyes. I scrapped the first idea and tried to go in another direction.

I had the idea of being underneath an overpass and having buildings being lit by the moon. I don't think it was too bad of an idea, but I had trouble refining it and making it more "full", if that makes sense? This had a weird sense of emptiness and dragged the composition down for me. Perhaps if I drew the character differently and played more with the perspective, it would've been better. I went back to my original idea and checked if I could improve some things on a base level.

Originally, I had the cape go off-screen but checking my original inspiration, like various art pieces of Spawn, I noticed that the cape "ends" tend to curve back into the frame. I decided to do something similar which I think helped give the piece a sense of "flow" to it. I found that it also gives a composition more layers of depth and fills in any "empty" spaces that I had worried about before. I tilted Nosf's head a bit so they weren't just standing there stiffly as well. Sometimes it's the little things that help improve the piece than having to redo it all over again.

Finally, I just decided to make the background more on the simple side. I think I had the issue of really wanting to prove myself that I could do backgrounds that I made it way more complicated than it needed to be. It gave me the chance to make the moon much bigger, which I always meant to be a striking aspect of the piece. When drawing, I decided to forgo the "ground" that the cliffs are on since I felt it cluttered up the piece with too many colors. Now, I just got to finish it!

I should be done, right? Well, not exactly. While I think it looks nice (I'm personally proud of my use of noise filters), it just still lacks the depth that I'm looking for. Something about it is too bright and clear. I went back and experimented some more until I found a solution that made me feel stupid not realizing it before, lol. So initially, I tried to use this photo editing program called "Picsart". I used to use it a lot when I was doing digital art since I like the added filters. I eventually stopped because it would ruin the image quality. I thought they fixed that issue, but it's still the same.

It's a bit subtle in this picture, but I like to use the "vintage" filter since I like the added shadows on the sides of the images. The problem is that the quality got ruined and I'm very stubborn about keeping it in the nicest resolution possible. I decided to see if I could replicate it in my own art program. What I discovered is that I can and the solution was very simple, lol. First I drew a square with a solid color on a new layer-

Then I used the "Gaussian Blur" Filter-

I turned down the opacity, set the blending to "burn" and overlaid it on the artwork, which gave the depth I was looking for!

I gave the head some slight shading too since the filter unintentionally gave it to their ears. Good call since I think that helped with the Halloween atmosphere I was intending.

[gloomyglosse]

Hi there! I recently finished my six ocs fanarts! I'm really happy with how these came out, and I especially love the characters! :D Everyone here has such cool OCs and I really loved drawing them :)

Sa' Turnus - @legogeek33

Ayah - @paprikko-lol

Hanan - @giftofjay

Chat - @pangolinsandnewts

JMN - @roguendeavor

Viridius - @fiddler-sticks

Sa'turnus (Legogeek33)

Hi there! I know we've never really talked before, but I was the one who sent you an anon about your ocs! I was looking for a sixth character, and a friend brought up your characters, so I sent the ask! All three of the characters you sent me were sooooo pretty, and I'm super curious about their lore. If you have a post about them that I missed, or you just want to tell me in the tags, please tell me! This character was sooo pretty and fun to make.

Ayah - (Paprikko-lol)

I love ayah!! Her powers are so cool- I always thought smoke was such a cool power, and shes just. WOW shes cool and pretty! If you want to infodump on me ever, I'm all ears! Her clothes are really cool too, but I actually found out when drawing her my pencil pack comes with NO purples, so I had to find an itty bitty crayola pencil instead 😭. I love her design though!

Hanan (giftofjay)

Ok. Minor confession: when I got to your character you had deactivated your account by then, so I had a little bit of trouble finding your character's ref again! Still, I'm really glad I found it, because your character has such a cool design. A master of healing is such a cool idea- why haven't they made one yet!! I'm starting a petition to make Hanan canon, haha. I also read the info posts about her, so I gave her painting supplies because shes an artist! I love her so much 💛⭐

Chat (Pangolinsandnewts)

Chat has such an awesome character design- im totally jealous of her hair. As I was drawing her the hair was the most fun part I'm totally obsessed with it! As for her lore, I'm super curious about her relationship with the other SOG members 👀. Also, it was my first time drawing sunflowers, haha, so they might be a little wonky! Still, Chat totally rules, and she was super fun to draw- especially her hair! The ombre is soo pretty <3

JMN (Roguendeavor)

I'm soooo sorry about his skintone- my gray pencil was having the worst day of its life and i erased it like twelve times 😭. Still, theres some extra stuff I tried to put in there. The skeleton guy is supposed to be an angel, and the necklace his hand is on is supposed to be angel feathers! (I was thinking they might be remnants of his wings 👀). I was inspired by priest clothing I found online. JMN is a really cool character and as I was drawing him I kept thinking of stuff to add- I love the idea of fallen angels!

Viridius (fiddler-sticks)

Viridius is such a goofy goobster I love him SO much. I drew him in the midst of a water balloon fight with his classmates (ten bucks says he started it, haha!). Its so sad that other kids dont like him- I hope he gets a cool power it better friends to make up for it lol. But hes such a fun character. Drawing a snake man was a little difficult, but I had a lot of fun drawing him, and I liked the detailed descriptions you gave alongside them!

Thank you everyone for letting me draw your wonderful OCS- theyre all so cool and I can't express how much I love each of them! These are not the best quality, so I may try to post them again at another time! :D

[jimmy-valmer-official]

Gonna be so random and unnecessarily insane about this for a minute but I made a pokémon team for Jimmy. Word vomit and some pictures under the cut.

First off, the best candidate I could think of for him to have as a partner pokemon is a Raichu. The color pallet is perfect and the concept is even more so… he could use the electric abilities to power up his microphone and cameras and stuff (he probably gets shocked a bunch of times through his crutches though).

Anyways. His Raichu could have a little microphone and sit on his shoulder while he preforms. It’s perfect. See my vision? I already drew it in a previous post.

The next pokemon I can see him having is a Mr. Mime, unsurprisingly. It has a fun-oriented personality, looks like a clown, yada yada. But the main reason I thought of it was because Jimmy showed interest in making impressions of people during his debut, and what is Mr. Mime if not an impressionist?

I think his Mr. Mine could easily be a leading inspiration for him or a breath of fresh air after getting back from a tiring comedy show. Maybe both. Sometimes it stars in the shows… Definitely has a boisterous personality that Jimmy is completely unphased by.

Coming up third is a Jigglypuff. I’ve seen a lot of people give him a Jigglypuff, and honestly? King shit. Solely wanted to put one on his team because the idea of him getting pranked and like, being put to sleep unconventionally and then waking up to a drawing of a million dicks on his forehead is both super funny and definitely something that he’d find hilarious.

Definitely attainted it on accident, and loves it to bits. Also, they definitely play pranks together as well. That’s a very crucial part of their friendship.

Also. It just has that look in its eyes.

Okay. I wanted to add some bigger pokemon now, and after some debating, I settled on a Stoutland and a tauros. Here’s why.

First off, again, the color pallets are amazing. But to be more specific. I wanted Jimmy to have a loyal and older partner to balance put the wonky first three. Because even though Jimmy loves messing around, he also has a very clear set of morals and isn’t solely a silly little guy. A dog-like pokemon fit him pretty well (i think hes an in-betweener when it comes to cats vs. dogs, but most cat pokemon are pretty snarky and i dont think he’d be a huge fan of that), and Stoutland is the perfect partner for anyone.

I’d say Stoutland is his main traveling partner, but he’d only ride on his back if he was really tired. They mostly just walk together, and they have a really close bond. Stoutland is definitely his number one emotional support system.

Tauros, on the other hand, is a pokemon that caught my eye because it matches his zodiac sign (we have the same sign and im a nerd, sue me) and tends to be more stubborn. Which fits, because Jimmy is also stubborn. He literally almost got himself shot because he refused to put advertisements in his newspaper.

I think that since Tauros is naturally built like a tank, it’d make a good battling partner. Jimmy would definitely use it just to intimidate people on the field, and I can see it as one of his main (if not the main) battler. But I also think that it’d have a very sweet nature, and maybe it was one of his first pokemon. It probably tried to kill him when they first met.

And lastly, I’m going to put my foot down and say with confidence that he would have a Nickit on his team.

Just hear me put.

Nathan’s a tricky guy, and he’s also literally the only person in the world that actively hates Jimmy. Jimmy isn’t even really aware of this either. And Nickits are very similar to Nathan in the sense that they often cause trouble.

I think that Nathan, at some point in his quest to make Jimmy’s life terrible (or kill him), gifted him a Nickit as a “friendly gesture” in hopes that it’d cause him trouble. And Jimmy would without a doubt accept the gift.

Nathan’s plans always backfire though, so I think that even if the Nickit caused trouble, Jimmy would find a way to befriend it eventually. He’d probably make an effort to understand it and end up gaining its trust.

Anyways. I think the Nickit would be a fun contrast to Jimmy and could add some small conflicts by stealing and starting shit. And Jimmy would just be chasing it around like “Oh, sorry about that miss, im not sure why hes acting like this today” after nickit steals an entire breadloaf or something (and not for the first time, either— maybe Jimmy has a little too much faith in its ability to behave). Maybe it even joined the Bloods too, who knows.

And thats it?? I had a lot of fun putting this together and coming up with everything. I might change some stuff and draw some stuff later, who knows.

Thanks for reading if you did! I had to get it out of my system.

[lesbeancats]

things i loved about film red in no particular order(spoilers under the cut)

-the fight scene with the marines halfway through the movie in reality

-every time Uta told Luffy he was being a sore loser in an attempt to normalize the atrocities

-UTA

-when Shanks said Uta was his daughter and flattened everyone with his Haki

-Uta summoning Tot Musica

-Tot Musica itself

-context for all the songs in the movie

-uta casually munching on those wake shrooms like they were a tasty snack

-uta visibly losing her mind

-ngl i had to look away from the screen at the end of the movie or risk bursting into tears

-especially when that flashback of Shanks finding Uta showed and the soft look in Shanks’ eyes as he listened to her last song

-actually, the flashback on Shanks’ end where it’s revealed Uta destroyed Elegia and the entire crew is crying behind their backs as they make their getaway

-every scene Bepo was in, but especially when Law is like “idgaf about the concert, im the CHAPERONE”

-bepo’s little backpack thing that lit up everytime Uta’s name was said

-Uta’s brand being the wonky straw hat that Luffy drew as a kid

-every time ussop called her princess uta

-the first uta fight scene, but especially when she traps all those pirates in a song

- yeah, just cause some people went to the concert undercover didn’t mean they couldn’t have fun with it

-ALL the subtle hints that Something Isn’t Right

-anytime Uta was criticized and she just went Ok :D and then decided it was because Everyone Needed to Have More Fun

-UTA

-pirates being more ethical than the marines

-Big Mom deciding she needed Uta for some reason???

-Katakuri being like “idgaf what’s going on, I’m just here for my baby sister”

-yassop and ussop using their Haki to co-ordinate attacks

-Uta giving everyone new outfits on a whim

-the scene in reality where uta is like caressing Luffy’s face but surprise she actually has a knife to stab him with

-uta turning everyone into dolls and food and yeah it was a bit of an eye strain but it sure did look cool

-coby taking COMMAND and everyone steps up, flawlessly

-uta being SO overpowered but actually super fragile

-omg SUNNY

-sunny clinging to Luffy’s back

-the after credit scene where Luffy talks to Sunny

-he’s just a little guy ;;;;;;

-uta knowing the WHOLE time that she destroyed Elegia but went ahead with her plan bc she was THAT desperate to do good

-Uta’s last conversation with Luffy and you can tell that he KNOWS she’s dying

-uta returning his hat and saying “it’s special to me too”

-just UTA aaaaa

[pikatrainer99]

Yet another drawing of Orange!

I drew this one back in August of last year, it's 11-year-old Orange heading out on his first journey (after convincing his parents to let him go and be a proper Pokémon Trainer even though they don't think it's a good idea at first) with his first four Pokémon! He's on his way to Jubilife to watch Dia and Pearl's comedy contest performance before really setting out. His Pokémon are Thunderheart the Pikachu, Chimzilla the Chimchar, Star the Starly, and Storm the shiny Shinx. He cares deeply for all of them and treats them like family, because he loves and understands Pokémon so much (hence his first Dexholder title "The Communicator), he considers them best friends as well as siblings, and wouldn't hesitate to risk his life to help a Pokémon in need (hence his other title "The Rescuer"). He listens to their voices and their wishes and makes sure to fulfill each and every Pokémon’s needs and wants. He keeps them out of their Poké Balls so they can experience the world alongside him. He trains them the way they want to be trained, making sure to always listen to their opinions on things, vowing to never ignore anything they have to say or be anything like how the bullies back in Viridian City were towards him. He just wants to be the best friend and Trainer he can be to them, because he loves and cares for them so SO much!

So anyway, I've gone on too much about Orange's love for his Poké-pals, so now on to the drawing itself...there's a bunch of white blobs on it because this is one of the ones cluttered with text, so I decided to 'white it out' as best I could...it looks really messy but it's better than a bunch of my terrible handwriting all over the place taking away from the drawing itself in my opinion. It was my first time drawing Starly so that's why it's so big compared to the other Pokémon, and Thunderheart is on Orange's shoulder because she's his emotional support/shoulder Pokémon, she's always there for him when he needs her. He's holding up a Poké Ball because he's so excited that he's a proper Pokémon Trainer now (hence the huge grin), and I tried my best to draw him in a running pose, I know it looks wonky but I tried my best...also please try to ignore the erased bits, I know there's a lot of them but drawing is hard, okay? 😅

[tarnishedhalo]

The celebration of this year’s April 4th – his American’s birthday – was months, months in the planning. It was to be the first Ron could spend in his company, what with his move to New York last winter, and so to mark that fact, and to welcome in the next year of the good man’s life propah, thinking caps were put on early. Ears were opened. And a number Ron hadn’t dialled since oh, before moving over State-side, was rung. Had he sprung this notion of his on the fella he’d dialled last minute he’d have shot him down. Man was busy, had engagements, studio-time, plans for tours and all sorts, but he remembered the cockney drawl at the end of the phone fondly from a couple’a years ago tenue in London’s club scene, so testing the acoustics at Ron’s new Venture? It was hardly an ask in the first place, but was even less of one after mention of a musically talented jam-buddy-come-fan was made.

Diaries were marked, the 4th came round, and The Venture’s doors were quietly closed to the public from lunchtime ‘til the late evening to give Ron’s guest a chance to settle in and get his sound on, and to give Ron an ample window in which to steal Riley away from the day’s earlier-hours festivities and make introductions. Ron hated fibbing, but he consoled himself - as he spun a little tale about closing up shop early so Riley could have a jam session in the pub’s newly minted live performance space – with the knowledge that he was in fact telling half-truths. He had closed up for that very reason. It’s just that Riley, his favourite guitar in hand as they moved from car to premises, wouldn’t be jamming alone.

Soon as they neared the doors, there was music on the air. Chords were being tested and, if you listened close, a bluesy drawl that Ron would describe, if asked, as whiskey’s voice singing was crooning away at intervals. Key to lock, Ron fought the adrenaline bubbling up at the prospect of his gift coming clear like a Spartan ‘til a glance round at Riley kicked that straight out the park. With a grin that was all teeth and open lips and crinkling skin by his eyes, he took opening that door slow-time and began to speak.

“—Y’remembah I told yah I knew artists in club land, Lahndan, righ?”

The heavy door eased open, both men slipping in through a cloud of that whiskey-blues-sound. Ron turned and locked up quickly, then drew Riley through the entryway and onto floors of tile and hardwood. The live performance area – a slightly raised stage with room for a chair or stool as the artist preferred, their instruments and a microphone – lived off to their right; the bar and other seating spread out before them and left. An arm round his mate’s back, Ron went on.

“—Made friends ‘ov a few ‘ov ‘em – acquaintances’a more, ‘n since I ‘eard yah mention a name I knew as a faverit’a yours I—” Glee made a breath catch in his throat. Ron swallowed showing it back, but everything in him sang with the want to move. He contented himself to gesturing towards the familiar face populating his Venture’s stage.  The man looked up from plucking Heaven on his guitar strings, flashed the pair a smile, laughed a—

“Finally!”

-- to which Ron rasp-laughed back.

“Sorry t’keep yah, Joe” he greeted, bowing his head by way of the handshake he’d have given him if he had even the vaguest inclination to leave Riley’s side. To his friend then he said, “I f’ort y’might fancy keepin’ Mistah Bonamassa comp’ny f’a bit.” The arm round Riley’s back gave a little squeeze as Ron smiled up at him. It was a wonky thing, like the real ones always were. A wink flickered by as the expression eased into a warm, obvious kind of fondness. “Bar’s open f’yah if y’want anyfin’, yeah?” Softer then, and with feeling he enthused–

“--‘Appy birfday.”

Never fails, no matter how long he's been up the night before either at work or enjoying not being on his beat, he finds himself awake at half past four in the morning. He'd specifically taken the week off to celebrate another year inching him closer to forty. And yet despite his bed being comfortable, being warm enough not to set off the nerves of his phantom limb, and the window beyond the heavy curtains still being dark as fuck, the restlessness is already seeding itself through him. He should be up, running through his PT routine. He should be in the shower, washing off the last vestiges of sleep and the new coat of sweat. He should be in the kitchen making coffee then something healthy and protien heavy for breakfast, or at least something incredibly indulgent. He'd intentionally made no real plans, content to mourn a little more of his youth with a good bottle and maybe a handful of closest companions ~his brother and sister, of course, didn't really count as he sees them as extentions of himself~ and maybe a specifically catered dinner. He makes no effort to move, instead remains on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes. Neither sleeping nor fully awake, he listens to the morning progress. The traffic sounds coming up off the street, the so-called quiet shenanigans from his siblings who will swear they're trying their best to not wake him, and eventually he has to give up his ghosts when the door opens and they come bursting in. Coffee and breakfast on a tray, Beth singing the traditional birthday song, Billy singing a dirge. This checks out. At least the giant has good enough sense to jump onto the bed before Beth hands him the coffee and settles in on his other side. ~*~

Riley would never say it was grudging when Ron catches him off guard with the offer of something quiet as the night starts to cling to the city skyline. He should have realised there was something afoot when he left the apartment with his Gibson in its case, his siblings not uttering a word about his need for absence. That they'd been content with a 'call youse guys later", and out he went. Normally too, he would have balked at being picked up but he had no intentions of being a teetotaler tonight, and Sally was safer in the garage rather than on the street. Clearly, the sound system put in at the Venture was incredible, the live CD playing tripping its way across the pleasure centre of Riley's brain with its familiar and envy-inducing musicality. There were a great many musicians that inspired him with their art, names he could rattle off like his duty stations. A broad plethora of old and new that he judged his own skills by, and little hidden star-studded dreams that were for their weight just that. Private imaginings. When he passes his judgement on the speakers and stereo, the world lights up in Ron's face. That should have been clue number two. He remembers. Riley never really forgets anything, the curse of a photographic memory. He nods and grins, waiting to hear this story which feels so new its still shiny in the shorter man's mien, a feat unto itself. His eyes take a moment to adjust from the perpetual brilliance of the cityscape to the dimmer, honey-warm sort of lighting of the Venture's interior. The bar really is a gorgeous thing and with any luck, his friend will be as welcomed and rewarded by the city's adoration as he was back home in London, with the notable lack of his brother's anchor round his neck. If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere. As Frankie was famous for crooning. As Ron rushed through the tale though, everything started to trickle in. The stage set up was familiar too, he'd seen it before. Excitement all but poured off Ron the way it does Beth on Christmas morning and it partially carries him away on its tide but then… Then. Riley knows the voice, and he knows the song, and he knows the guitar. There is still the tiniest of disconnects as he freezes beside his friend, when all of everything comes crashing into him with the impact of a subway train. The arm around Ron's shoulders flexes, then tightens. His mouth parts, voice already so deep dropping an octave. "I. I uh. You're…you've gotta be fuckin' kidding me right now, Rawnie." It's in the half gravel drawl that Ron would find a universe of words that Riley is ever so eloquent with, and how they've all come to a halt just behind his teeth, unable to climb one over the other to come out. There is almost never an instant when Riley is stunned, and yet right in this moment, that's exactly what he is. A deathlock of a grip around his Brit's neck. The nearly imperceptible quiver than runs through all six feet plus of him. And as if proof of divine miracles still happening in the world, at the whispered congratulations, Andrew Riley blushes.

[starlessea]

Eye For Detail (Daryl Dixon/Reader)​

Sequel to Sketchbook Confessions

Summary: You try to sketch Daryl in return. Except, you draw his smile a little crooked, and the eyes are wonky... And Daryl completely loves it.

Words: 2490

Warnings: Language.

The courtyard was still and quiet, free from the dinner-time rowdiness going on behind prison walls. Well, it was almost quiet; Daryl's scribbling over paper sounded out faintly beside you, as you watched him work. At first, he'd been opposed to the idea of company, but after a while it has become almost like a weekly tradition - in which you'd both bask in the comfortable silence together. You'd even started to bring your own notepad, in your attempts to learn how to sketch from the man.

At first, your drawings were anything but good. Sometimes, even you couldn't tell whether you'd drawn a landscape or a strange, abstract fruit bowl. Yet, Daryl was a good teacher. Where he lacked patience normally, it seemed like he had ample to spare with you. He'd shown you how to use the different charcoals, and had even come back with more art supplies after his latest run.

It was coming up to dusk, and the sky was a brilliant mix of blue and grey hues. There were clouds gathering overhead, too, and you wondered whether there was a storm brewing behind them. Your notepad remained closed over your lap, since you still hadn't gathered the confidence to open it yet. Daryl hadn't noticed, however - too absorbed in his own work to pick up on the way you tentatively thumbed over the spine of your book.

"I tried to draw a person the other day," you finally admitted, "I don't know how you do it."

Daryl stopped what he was doing, rubbing circular motions over the paper to try and blend out his charcoal lines. He looked over at you, and you laughed gently at the black fingerprints littering his cheeks.

"Who was it?" he mumbled, eyeing you as you gathered your sleeve over your hand.

You shuffled over to the man slightly, and used the material to wipe away the charcoal stains over his skin, feeling him squirm slightly beneath your touch as you did so.

"It was you," you told him, and finally he kept still.

His stare bore into you, and suddenly it felt as though you'd been set on fire. You regretted the words as they came out of your mouth, and edged away from Daryl as soon as you'd finished cleaning him up.

You cleared your throat, trying to think of an excuse you knew he wouldn't believe. You sighed, knowing it was no use.

"Well, it was a poor attempt at Daryl," you confessed, glancing down at your sketchbook sheepishly. "Maybe a Darren at best."

You'd expected him to laugh at your joke, but he didn't. Instead, he seemed intrigued. He closed his own notepad, and you worried about whether the charcoal would smudge.

"Show me." Daryl said softly, his eyes flickering over to your lap.

You bit your lip, wiping off the cover of your sketchbook before opening it.

"Don't laugh," you warned him, shaking your head slightly.

You didn't think that he would, but you suddenly felt self-conscious. You'd drawn the portrait in your cell a few nights ago when you couldn't sleep - with the page illuminated by soft lamp-light. You remembered the feeling of the linen sheets beneath you as you sprawled out over your mattress, trying your best to shade the stubborn parts. You had tried - really you had. Except, you'd discovered that art came more naturally to some than others.

"Your eyes are crooked, and I drew your nose too big." you grimaced, settling your gaze over the portrait as you inspected its faults. "I'm sorry."

In natural lighting, it looked a lot worse than you had remembered. You tried to snap the book closed, but Daryl's palm prevented you from doing so. He was silent, and you watched his eyes slowly trail over the paper, taking in all of the details.

"Fine, you can laugh," you exclaimed, overwhelmed by his lack of response. "Okay, just say something-"

"Can I keep this?" Daryl interrupted, glancing up to meet your eyes.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. It took a few seconds to comprehend his words, before you finally shook your head a little too quickly.

"No!" you cried, trying to snatch the book from his grasp. "I can draw you a better one."

Daryl didn't give up his grip, and only shook his head back at you in return.

"Nah, I wan' this one."

Any argument you had bubbling up was quickly quelled when you caught sight of his expression. He seemed deadly serious, and you felt your own fingers loosen over the sketchpad as a result. The man slipped it away from you, and brought the book onto his own lap, continuing to look over it.

"But it's bad," you retorted, weakly.

You knew you had lost at this point. You had learned your stubbornness from Daryl himself, after all. The man never was one to know when to back down.

The courtyard seemed a lot darker than it had only a few minutes ago. The clouds had gathered to be more dense and thick, and blocked out the remaining light left over from the setting sun. It would be hard to keep drawing like this, you thought - yet, Daryl seemed more preoccupied now.

"E'eryone gotta start somewhere" he told you, "an' I don' want ya to throw it out."

You watched as he trailed his charcoal-stained, calloused fingers along the page - careful not to leave any marks over the pristine, white paper. Even your sketchbooks looked worlds apart from one another. Yours was neat, each drawing labelled, and your lines clean; Daryl's was a collection of blackened fingerprints alongside scrawled handwriting, and the occasional crumpled page.

"Shoulda seen my first drawings," Daryl went on, looking out towards the field, and at the forest behind it. "Merle found one when I was a kid an' told me it was a shit donkey."

You cocked your head to the side, listening to him.

"Was meant to be superman," he explained, with an expression far too serious for his words.

You snorted, and the man whipped his head over to scowl at you.

"I'm sorry-" you choked out, not missing the way his lips quivered as they fought back a smile of his own. "I must have swallowed a bug."

Not long after that, the feeling in your gut turned out to be right. The storm clouds had finished gathering, and soon the first droplet of rain landed over your paper - smudging the line you'd just drawn. You glanced over at Daryl, but before he'd even had time to reply, the downpour started. It went from a single raindrop to a raging storm in a matter of seconds, leaving you both scrambling to collect the strewn sheets of paper and charcoal pieces trembling over the ground. With your supplies bundled up in your arms, the two of you ran towards the cellblock - yelling through the sounds of the rain along the way.

Once you had reached Daryl's cell, you were soaked through. The man had dragged you there since it was closer, but it hardly made a difference. Your shirt was stuck to your skin, and you were left clutching soggy handfuls of paper - bleeding ink over Daryl's stone floor. He helped you set down the supplies onto his desk, gathering up whatever was salvageable, and throwing the rest away. Luckily, most of the pastels and charcoals had been kept safe, but a lot of loose sheets had been sacrificed to the greater good in the process.

You laughed, taking in the sight of the man. His hair stuck damply to his forehead, and you watched as stray droplets ran over his cheeks. He quickly glanced around the room and retrieved one of his shirts, before offering it to you. You took it from him and smiled, waiting for Daryl to turn his back on you before starting to change.

"Looks like the weather had other plans," you noted, pulling the dry shirt over your head. "At least it washed away that god awful drawing I did of you."

You untucked your hair from the collar, and smoothed out the material over your body. Behind you, you heard the sound of a zip, and peered over your shoulder to see Daryl taking off his own leather jacket. As he did so, you noticed that he'd been concealing something beneath it, and squinted to try and make out what it was.

"Looks jus' fine to me," the man mumbled, holding up the dry piece of paper for you to see.

You scoffed; he'd stuffed your drawing there to keep it safe. You couldn't prevent the smile spreading over your face as you looked at him in disbelief. He gave you a teasing smirk back, before setting the picture carefully onto his desk with the others.

"Y'know," Daryl said quietly, "s'a lot easier to draw from real life."

You glanced over at your drawing, knowing what he was getting at. You were acutely aware of its flaws, but you just didn't have the experience to know how to fix them yet.

"I know what you look like," you quipped back.

It was the truth. Perhaps you even knew a little too well.

"Mhm," he hummed back, before walking over to where you were standing.

You could tell from the tone of his voice that he didn't entirely believe you. One of the first things he'd taught you was that there could never truly be a good enough replacement for the real thing. Though, you had to disagree. You felt like you knew exactly how Daryl Dixon looked - you just couldn't translate it to paper.

The man stopped directly in front of you, so close that you could see his chest rising and falling. He lifted one hand slowly, tentatively even, so that you didn't get scared by his actions. Then, he hovered his palm gently over your eyelids, flicking them shut so that your world went dark.

"What colour are m'eyes?" he asked.

His hand was cold over your face, from where the rain had soaked his skin. You knew that he was trying to teach you a lesson, but you thought that perhaps you'd use the opportunity to teach him one back.

"Blue," you answered, without hesitation.

You desperately wanted to see the man's expression, but all you could do was imagine it.

"An' what-" Daryl continued, but you cut him off.

"A greyish blue," you went on, not entirely satisfied with your answer. "Like the colour of the sky before a storm."

Daryl removed his hand from over your eyes, but you kept them shut. Your fingertips brushed over the hem of his shirt that you were wearing, and you felt like you could picture the way it looked in your mind just from the texture of the material.

"Your hair is brown. The same shade as that desk near your bed," you told him, pointing in the direction you remembered it to be. "And it falls just above your neck, and is slightly curly at the ends." You laughed, considering your next words. "Especially just after you wash it."

Daryl remained silent, and you tried to picture the type of look he had in his eyes. You thought that perhaps you should stop, that you'd made your point clear - but you were in too deep to turn back now.

"And you have two moles," you said quietly - and wondered whether he had heard your voice tremble, too.

You reached out your hand slowly, trying to find the other man. Your palm made contact with his chest, and you let your fingertips trail up until you reached his neck, and then his face.

"One by your nose," you told him, resting your palm over his cheek, "and the other near your lip."

You tried to find it, but your thumb accidentally brushed over his lip, instead. Your heart jumped in your chest, and your eyes flickered open unintentionally.

"I'm sorry-" you blurted out, but the words tapered off as you noticed Daryl's stare.

The man stood perfectly still in front of you, letting your hand rest over his cold, damp skin. You quickly pulled away, glancing off to the side nervously. Though, the both of you knew that you'd gone too far to make any poor excuses now. You'd passed a boundary, but you couldn't say that you wanted to take a step back, either.

"Tha's one eye for detail ya got," Daryl said, after a few seconds had gone by.

You shook your head. "Only when it comes to you," you admitted.

Daryl looked off to the side, and then back, but you continued before he had the chance to interrupt.

"I know I'm not the best artist, but I wanted to show you how you look through my eyes, too."

Daryl raised his hand again, but this time it wasn't to block out your sight. Instead, he just rested his palm softly over your cheek - and despite how cold it was, you leant into his touch.

"Ya jus' did," he said, and gave you a small smile.

You could still hear the storm outside, as the occasional breeze whistled its way past the cracks of the cell block, or made the tree branches batter up against the windows. Sometimes, the draft even made those loose sheets flutter over the desk, in a kind of muffled, paper applause.

"Maybe I should just swap out pencils for words," you told the man. "They seem to do the job better."

He nodded in agreement, letting his hand drop back down to his side.

"Hey, Daryl?" you asked, but you already had his full attention.

"Mhm."

You decided to put your words into practice straight away, so that you wouldn't forget exactly how you felt in this moment.

"You mean a lot to me," you admitted, "in a way I don't think I'd ever be able to describe."

Daryl's eyes widened slightly, and you wished to have the talent to capture that expression with pencil and charcoal one day.

"But I still wanted to try," you finished, and waited for his response.

Except, Daryl wasn't a man of words - and he reminded you of that as he reached for his sketchbook. His fingers were still damp, and you watched as they left watery prints over the pages as he flicked through them. He finally stopped once he reached the last one, showing you his latest sketch.

It was stained with raindrops that hadn't dried yet, from where the storm had first broken out and Daryl hadn't reacted quick enough. Yet, even though it was a little smudged and wrinkled, you could still make out that it was you - from where you had been sitting right next to him in that courtyard.

The man set the book down so that the page remained open on his desk, and picked up the other loose-sheet drawing that you'd done of him - and placed them together.

"Me too," Daryl said.

And that was all you needed to hear.

Feedback is always welcomed; I love hearing what you all think - so feel free to comment, send in an ask, or just message me if you want to chat!

Also, here is my buy me a coffee! If you enjoy my writing, tips are always appreciated. Thank you for reading!

Send me a message if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

A/N AHH. I just loved this 2 part story.

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[echo-of-sounds]

lazy start, intense finish (pt.2 in the 'your first creampie' series)

-Aizawa x f!reader-

smut drabble of aizawa giving you your first creampie

I’m posting this using my phone’s hotspot because I just really wanted to get this out today. Nothing’s really loading. I picked a gif at random. If the format is a little wonky, I apologize. I’ll fix it later.

Warnings: nothing serious, just a little deepthroating/gagging

At the commercial break, you lowered the volume for Shouta sleeping on your stomach. He sighed and nuzzled into you. His hands were burrowed inside your sweatshirt for warmth, resting on your sides. Not that he needed the extra warmth. His body was nothing but a radiator, keeping yours pleasantly cozy in the cool room.

He remained motionless for another thirty minutes until his chest rumbled a swear.

“You alright?”

He groaned, turning his head. Through the thick, black mess, you saw his eyes straining at the Tv. At least they seemed less red than an hour and a half ago. Hair stuck to his mouth. You gently brushed the strands out of his face, carefully combing through them.

A low hum sounded at your grooming. Your fingers graced behind his ear, down his jaw, skimming the defined bone and bristles. It’s grown a little longer than usual, shading in the sparse five o’clock with attractive, full stubble.

He grumbled in a thick voice, “I need to shave it soon.”

“I like it like this.”

“It’s annoying like this.” He shifted on top of you, removing his hands from your sweatshirt. You moved too, bending your left leg, wedged amid him and the couch’s back, to relieve your stiff knee. He faced your thigh and pressed his lips to it. The peck formed into a long kiss, dragging the thin skin into his mouth.

The heated weight between your legs allowed you to lazily hump, working up wetness, not from his mouth. His lower chest rocked with you. Fingertips depressed into your thigh. Hair mingled around your playing fingers, keeping you coupled as he sucked, stressing the skin with teeth and lips.

You sighed for him. He didn’t budge. You wiggled, cooing, “Shouta, come here.”

Your voice corralled him; he lifted, crawled up to your mouth. Heft settled on top, happily trapping you for a kiss. Swelling swayed against you, encouraging your hips to return the favor. His tongue crudely sunk into your mouth. It drew moans and heavy breaths from both of you, hastening your grinding.

The kisses trailed to your jaw, then neck once you opened it, where his teeth decided to taste. You fondled him through his sweatpants. The material didn’t stifle his girth and heat. And your groping spurred his swaying into thrusting, obviously wanting something to thrust into.

You were about to speak when he bit your neck, shaping your words into a gasp. His jaw didn’t release, very clearly set on leaving you swollen. You squeezed his cock. That only made his hips jerk. You squeezed his sleeve next, panting, “Let’s go- Fuck. Let’s go to bed.”

Shouta heaved himself and you up. The cuddly start to your night-in quickly disappeared as he muscled you to the bedroom. His tongue left your mouth once when he slipped his shirt off. Your palms flushed over his abdomen, feeling up the grooves and hair, smoothing along his pecs, kindling from his radiator of a chest.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Then suck me off,” he gruffed, gripping your hair to keep your mouth against his for an airless ten seconds before shoving you to the bed. He dropped his pants and boxers, then joined. But he laid beside you, waiting for you to enact what he said.

And you did. Ready and willing, you hopped between his legs, kissing his erection. Veins in his foreskin slicked with your tongue, from his raphe to his frenulum. The little ridge of skin roused him, physically and audibly. A blush tainted his cheeks. Gorgeous sighs charmed your ears. You lapped slowly, softly, and sweetly at the reactive zone, soaking up his sounds, also soaking your panties.

“You look so handsome right now,” you praised. “Not that you don’t look handsome other times.”

Holding him steady, you pressed a lewd kiss to his head, and you couldn’t help but nip his corona. Then you took him in your mouth, quickly sinking, gradually rising, lightly dragging your teeth along him.

His head dropped to the pillows. Black hair frayed out, exposing pale collarbones and marred skin. His abs expanded in lengthy, indulged breaths. As your fingers trailed up the muscles, he snagged your hair, forcing you lower. Another hand joined. Hips snapped up. Each loud, deep prod choked you. Tears fell when he held you down, flattening your nose into his hair, stationing his dick thick and solid in your throat.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

Saliva dribbled. Heat pooled in your neck. A crude gag came with his grinding, making him yank you off. Dark eyes watched spit seep past your lips, drooling to him. They kept yours in focus, his head tapping your lips. “Clean it.”

You nursed on him again, sucking up all his precum and your spit. After a gentle thumb wiped the tears away, his palm rested on your cheek, calmly guiding your head. You hummed.

The switch from dominant to mellow wasn’t new, but it always sparked an affectionate glow in your stomach. The glare, from arousal, not anger, was always pleasing. And the intensity, you’ve seen many a time. Yet something about the tilt of his eyebrows and the pink of his ears goaded an unfamiliar experience, a new need.

Wetly, lust-filled, you spoke around his glans, tasting the salt you wanted to feel inside, “Cum in me.”

“What?”

“Cum in me.” You climbed up, parked on his waist, and removed your sweatshirt. You cupped his cheeks, kissing him with all the potency this need inflamed. “I’m on birth control. It’ll be okay. I want to feel what it’s like.”

“No one’s ever cum in you?”

You stroked his jaw. “No. It’s never come up. I want it to be with you.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” you whined before kissing him, smiling at the tongue muscling in.

Rough fingers coasted down your back and into your underwear. They kneaded your ass, spreading and pressing you while you moved with his hands, lightly riding his naked chest. The foreplay was becoming a bit too much, evident in the wet material pressing between you.

The fingers skimmed to your front and easily slipped in. “You’re this wet just from thinking about-”

“Yes,” you gasped, appreciating how his palm graded your clit. You stilled his wrist to grind down. “Sho, I’m gonna- Fuck.”

“How am I supposed to cum in you if you get worn out before I’m even inside you?” His stupid, rugged, lovely smirk taunted you.

Before you could respond, you were whipped to the mattress and your panties were tugged off. Shouta nestled between your thighs, immersing himself balls deep without any pushback or preparation. Knowing how this was going to end livened your noises and heightened your skin. Coarse hair, fevered skin, sultry breaths, digging fingers, lips, teeth, nails; all fueled the fire.

With a bite to your already bitten-up neck, the thrusts started solid. His head brushed straight into your front wall over and over and over again. Your nails made a home in his back, scratching, thanking him for his beautiful dick.

Shouta pushed up to his hands, increasing the strength behind the thrusts. You grasped at his biceps and rose, needing his mouth. You got what you wanted; sloppy, saliva, tongue-filled kisses and deep thrusts to curl your toes. Your eyes fluttered closed and head lolled back. Refusing to break, the kiss followed with his added grunts, amorous sounds he barely shared.

You tried speaking, voicing how amazing he always made you feel, your love, close you were, how so fucking high you felt. But nothing escaped your connected mouths except saliva. Instead, you stroked your clit. The width inside was leading you straight to orgasm.

Yet, rather fiercely, your hand was stopped.

“Sho, I-”

“Tonight, you cum from me,” he growled in your ear. He hooked both your knees, leaned forward, and continued his unabashed rutting, flattening you to the bed, completely caging you under him and the weight bearing down and into you.

He withdrew till only his head remained then bucked, slapping his balls against you, using the bed’s bounce to repeat repeatedly, jarring your hips and legs. His thrusts reached your depths. Pleasure drowned any twinge of pain out. You weakly clawed at his shoulder blades, losing energy.

“Cum.”

You whined his name.

“Now.” Teeth, once again, found your sore neck. Hair flared over your face, lending more building heat. “Cum, now.”

Arousal dripped from the disgustingly vulgar sounds between you. Your muscles couldn’t straighten under his control. You fussed and pawed.

“Fucking cum,” Sho gnarled. The guttural demand rolled your head back, driving home what he wanted, clenching muscles and limbs around him. Water formed from squeezing your eyes too hard. Skin gave under your nails.

All the joyous bliss almost turned painful with his nonstop thrusting. Because of the position, your legs couldn’t wrap his waist. But they still tried, needing him to stay inside. You felt down his sides and grappled at the sweat-coated skin. “Shouta, please- Fuck! Please.”

“I’m fucking-” His own huffing cut him off, struggling to even out. Thick groans melted in your ear. His thighs, while railroading through, trembled, humping, seeking.

“Cum in me. I want it.”

The thrust slowed, but the weight behind them didn’t lessen. He pressed into your neck.

“God, Sho, just cum in me.”

Each ball slap lingered longer and longer.

“Please,” you all but pleaded.

Swearing and growling your name, he sunk one last time, grinding against you, trying to push just a little deeper as you finally felt cum inside. It was new, different, and so, so warm. Hearty groans rumbled his chest. He dropped your legs, giving you the chance to wrap around him, embracing tight, and refusing to let him pull out.

Shouta’s labored breathing gradually calmed. Though it didn’t ease the heat of your bodies. And neither of you spoke, choosing to just lay and experience the feeling together.

[ichigopanhpff]

Mitsuya x Fem!Reader Begin Again: Ch. 21

[Previous Chapter] -- [Masterlist] -- [Next Chapter]

I recently discovered an Indian folk metal band called Bloodywood and they SLAP. HARD. Give "Gaddaar" or "Dana Dan" a listen.

Also, Tumblr's being wonky. I tried to follow some new writers, but it won't let me >:( I dunno if it's an account setting on their end or not. C'mon. I just wanna support my fellow TR fic writers.

---

A sudden soft knock at the main door drew (Y/N)’s attention; she opened it to see Draken, Chifuyu and Takemichi with a plastic bag in one of their hands.

“Came to see how you were doin’,” Chifuyu gave her a small, tired grin.

Inviting the three in, she made her way into the kitchen to boil some water for tea.

“Your face healed up fast,” the blond boy commented, noting the light brown and yellow marks below her cheek bones.

“Swelling’s gone, thankfully,” she added. “I can only hope the bruises go away in time for graduation.”

“How’s your arm?” Takemichi inquired with a tone of concern, seeing the injured limb resting on a sling.

“I can move it without much pain now,” she assured him with a small smile. “This is just a precaution.”

“I appreciate you takin’ care of Angry that night,” the vice captain thanked. “Smiley-kun told me his arm and leg'll only need a bit of rehab to get back to normal.”

“That’s good to hear.”

The water boiler sung as the liquid inside finished, interrupting their talk. As (Y/N) slowly got up, Draken pulled her good arm back down as Chifuyu and Takemichi got up.

“Let ‘em handle it,” the vice commander suggested.

“Oh jeez,” she groaned out and placed her right hand on her forehead. “Did Mi-tan call you all over to babysit me?!”

“He didn’t,” the first division captain honestly replied. “I was planning on coming here with Chifuyu and we met up with Draken-kun along the way.”

“You’re a part of Toman, (Y/N)-chan,” the dragon tattooed boy reminded her. “We take care of our own. I was shocked when I heard you took on the Haitani Brothers. You’re actually nuts,” he chided and poked the side of her head. “Did you have a death wish?”

“I did it to save Hakkun from getting brain damage,” she defended her actions and swatted his hand away. “And I wanted to get ‘em back…” she muttered with a pout and reached for a komikan on the table to peel.

“Get ‘em back for what?” Takemichi asked as he returned with tea for everyone.

She scratched the shell of her ear, not wanting to answer as her face turned pink and avoided eye contact, still pouting.

“They ruined your date, right?” Draken divulged.

“Why do you know this?!” her cheeks splattered with shades of embarrassment.

“When Mitsuya reported what happened during the ambush, we asked him why he was with you that day.”

“Ehh?!” Takemichi panicked and pointed to himself. “I didn’t know any of this! When did you two start dating?!”

“It… happened a month ago,” she muttered shyly.

“Takemitchy sounds like a dad right now,” his best friend taunted and laughed.

“Shaddap, Chifuyu!” the first division captain snapped back, fuming. “No one tells me anything!”

“Speakin’ of Mitsuya…” the vice commander looked around. “Where is he?”

“He’s taking care of some home stuff,” (Y/N) divulged and ate a piece of fruit.

“I thought he’d be here with you being all lovey-dovey.”

“Are you actually here to take care of me or tease me?” she shot out with a tone of annoyance.

“Bit of both,” Draken answered bluntly and popped two pieces of the citrus fruit into his mouth.

“As you can clearly see, I’m alive, breathing and recovering,” she listed with disinterest and sighed before changing the topic. “Have… Have any of you seen Mikey lately?”

The room went dead silent.

“It’s not that we don’t wanna see him…” Chifuyu began.

“But we wanna be respectful of his space right now,” Takemichi finished.

All Draken did was pop the last piece of fruit into his mouth, not saying a word. Staying for another hour or so, Takemichi and Chifuyu left; the former going to check on his girlfriend to see how she was doing. Showing themselves out, she sat beside Draken, who remained quiet with a look of remorse in his dark gaze. The puffiness and redness on the lower corners of his eyes showed his lack of sleep and how recent he cried.

Reaching her right arm out, she cradled his head onto her shoulder gently. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve shoved her off, but he had no fight in him right now. The blond boy quietly let out sniffles and hugged her with his long arms, her presence letting him know this was a safe space to work through the pain.

It was okay to be weak and lean on others. It was okay to cry.

Languidly stroking the back of his neck, the tattooed boy released his grieving heart once again. She knew she couldn’t give him the warmth and love Emma once did, but she could at least be by his side as a friend to support him in his time of need.

Having tired himself out, she gently set him down on the tatami and grabbed a spare pillow and blanket for him. Looking at his peaceful resting face with melancholy, she tenderly stroked the top of his head and lightly pecked his temple where the dragon tattoo sat and let him rest.

Sometimes all it takes to be a hero is just being present.

–

“So I told Takashi I loved him the other day… It… slipped out in the heat of the moment before I went to fight Tenjiku with the rest of Toman. Mikey and Draken didn’t want me involved, but… you know me.”

She sat in front of the Sano family headstone cross legged with offerings of incense and days old flowers still decorated.

“I was too self-conscious at first, thinking he was going too fast. Well…” She paused and rubbed the back of her neck, letting out a breathless chuckle. “I still think we’re goin’ too fast, but that’s beside the point… Don’t tell him I said this but back in grade school, we had the athletics festival. He was in the cavalry battle and wore the bandanna.” (Y/N) shyly smiled to herself. “Even though his team took second place, he looked so brave and cool, thanking his teammates for carrying him and praising them for their hard work. I think… that was when I fell for him without realizing. Maybe… the pace we’re going now is us playing catch up from all those years we missed.”

She looked down at her knees with a sad smile.

“I was hoping once Draken confessed to you or the other way around, we could’ve gone on group dates with Takemitchy and Hina-chan like regular teenagers…” she divulged. “Like one of your dreams come true.”

The cool spring breeze softly whipped through the graveyard silently, taking the smoke from the incense with it.

“Draken… hasn’t been doing too well,” she hesitantly continued. “He cried himself to sleep at my place recently... Why is it that every time someone comes over, they fall straight asleep? Is it that comfortable?” she went off tangent and sighed. “Anyway… I heard him muttering your name… He loves you so much. Misses you so much. We all miss you…” Tears pricked at her eyes as she trailed off and sniffled, swallowing the weighty lump obstructing her voice. “Emma-chan…" her voice wavered into soft whispers. "Tell me… Tell me what I can do to help Mikey.”

Droplets rolled down freely on her cheeks as her lips quivered and gritted her teeth.

“He’s suffering alone right now and I dunno how to help him. I don’t want him to fall into the darkness like I did…”

Staying for another 30 minutes, (Y/N) hesitantly left her friend, letting her know she’d be back in a few days. Wiping the stray tears with the back of her sleeve, she tucked herself into her jacket and left the cemetery, sniffling loudly. Making a pit stop at the nearest convenience store, she bought some food and drinks before heading to Mitsuya’s. Nearing her destination, she saw the back of a familiar head of lilac hair working on Impulse in the open court area of his apartment complex. A devilish grin graced her lips and took out a can of juice from the plastic bag.

Slowly tip-toeing from behind, she bit her bottom lip and placed the can to the side of his neck. His shoulders jolted up from the sudden cold sensation and dropped his wrench with a clatter on the ground; he immediately turned with a look between surprise and annoyance.

“What the hell, it’s just you…” he clicked his tongue and turned his attention back to fixing his bike.

“Glad to see you too,” she pouted and placed the can to his left before settling to his right. “I got you a sandwich.”

Her boyfriend grunted as a response while tightening a screw nut for the footpeg. She watched him in full concentration while replacing another part on his bike. His face had a light cast of perspiration and motor grease stained his muscular forearms and hands; his black t-shirt framed his taut muscles with every movement. She cracked a small, amused grin, watching him fiddle with his ride. Mitsuya decided to take a break not long after and went inside to wash his hands. His girlfriend handed him a pork katsu sandwich from the bag when he settled back down beside her. The two ate in silence.

“Sorry I haven’t called,” her boyfriend apologized after swallowing his food. “I had catch up on a lot of stuff.”

“Mm.” She sipped her can of warm milk tea.

His lavender eyes looked up from her unresponsiveness before back down at his feet, guilt wringing his mind and heart for what he put her through.

“Thank you... for taking care of my sisters and school stuff when I was hospitalized... It really means a lot to me,” he finally said and grasped his drink with both hands. “My mom practically had to pry Luna n' Mana off me when visiting hours were over... Yasuda-san and some of the girls from the Handicraft Club came by too. Man…” The lilac haired boy chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “They gave me an earful.”

She let out a small chuckle and bit into the remnants of her ham and egg sandwich. Seeing a distant look in her eye, her boyfriend reached out and grabbed her hand, jolting her thoughts back. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. It’d been days since they last saw or spoke to each other.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah…” She looked down at a random spot on the ground and nibbled on her bottom lip. “Just a lot on my mind.”

Finishing her food, she scooted over to place her head on his shoulder, not caring about how sweaty he was; she just wanted to feel close to him right now. Shutting her eyes, she sighed as he wrapped his arm around her.

“I’m heading up to Sendai next week…” she leisurely announced. Mitsuya’s body stiffened the moment those words left her lips. “To visit Hisa-nii.”

“Oh… Oh.” He just realized what she meant and inwardly smacked himself upside the head for being so self-absorbed.

“Do you… wanna come with?”

“Are… you sure?” he asked with hesitancy. “You’ll be with your dad right?”

“We’re meeting up there. He’s in Osaka right now,” she revealed.

“Ah…” He glanced at Impulse, wondering if he should ride up there instead to save money.

“I-If you can’t, it’s okay," she immediately spoke. "You have your sisters to take care of on top of Toman stuff too.” She played with the edge of her bracelet on her left wrist. “Just wanted to extend the invite, is all.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Mitsuya pecked his lips at the top of her head and lightly sighed.

“So, how’s the maintenance going?” she asked to change the topic.

“I still have to replace part of the body and a few more things,” he listed with a tone of disdain. “I’d reach out to Draken and see if he can help but…”

“It might be a good distraction for him,” she looked up and encouraged with a small smile. “He needs to be around people right now.”

"He told me he stopped by your place the other day with Chifuyu n' Takemitchy..." he trailed off. "Thanks for being there for him."

"It's the least I could do. He's your best friend," she pointed out with a tone of obviousness.

She stayed with Mitsuya until it started getting dark and declined to stay for dinner, saying she had leftovers at home to polish off. The truth was she hadn’t had much of an appetite as of late and didn’t want her boyfriend to worry any more than he needed to. He ended up walking her home instead.

Just as they said their goodbyes, she reached back out and grabbed his hand to pull him into a soft kiss. It felt weird not having some form of physical contact from him, like her chakras were misaligned. His hands circled around her waist and pulled her in to prolong it, drinking in the taste of her lips.

“What was that for?” he asked in a low voice after releasing.

“I can’t kiss my own boyfriend to let him know I missed him?”

“Not saying you can’t…” He reached up and tucked some hair behind her right ear, his stare focused on hers. “Just didn’t know if you wanted me to…” He touched his forehead with hers and closed his eyes before kissing her again.

“I wanted to give us some space to grieve,” he finally divulged after releasing. “But you ended up feeling so distant from me.”

“There was… a lot to process…” she finally spoke and reached up to rest her hands at the side of his neck, leaning in to give him a chaste kiss. “I’m sorry for making you feel that way. Emma-chan brought back a lot of the things I felt from Hisa-nii and… I’m also worried about Mikey…”

She buried her head into her boyfriend’s chest and hugged him tightly, with him doing the same.

“He knows he’s still got us, right?” she spoke into his chest.

When Shinichiro died, Mikey had Emma and his grandpa to support him. But now that she was gone, Mitsuya was just as concerned as his girlfriend. In a matter of months, his immediate family collapsed before his eyes.

What was going to happen to him now? To Toman?

–

“As you go on with your lives at your new high schools…” the valedictorian spoke on with several weeping students in the audience. She looked around the gymnasium with a distant fondness. Even though she only transferred here for the last year, it was the memories outside of school she remembered more than anything. Her eyes softened when it landed on the back of certain lilac haired boy, listening intently to the speech.

After each student stepped up to the stage to receive their diploma, the crowd dispersed outside with the scattered early bloomed cherry blossom pedals blowing in the wind. Ever the popular boy, Mitsuya got dragged off by the Handicraft Club to get final photos with their beloved prez while (Y/N) roamed before members from the Photography Club grabbed her for their memories. After saying her good-byes, she hummed to herself and wandered until she saw the back of Peh-yan’s head. Just as she was about to call him, she stopped herself the moment she saw Yasuda with him, looking down at the ground.

Quickly hiding behind a wall, she peeked around it in hopes of figuring out what was going on.

“You come ‘round here often?” a familiar voice playfully spoke in her ear, making her shoulders jump slightly. She immediately turned and shushed Mitsuya.

“I think I stumbled onto something amazing,” she whispered to her boyfriend and jerked her head in the direction she was looking at. Hovering on top of her, the lilac haired boy peeked around to see what she saw.

“Yasuda-san? With Peh-yan?” he muttered to himself and smirked to himself. He grabbed his girlfriend with him as they retreated. “We should leave ‘em be.”

“Ehh?” she protested. “This is our graduation and you’re denying me of this dumb, youthful experience of peeking into our friend being confessed to?!”

“Yes.”

“Mean.”

“Don’t you have something else to worry about?” her boyfriend pointed out.

“Do I?” she asked with genuine innocent curiosity.

Unamused with her response, he turned his body to show her the uniform jacket he rarely wore; all the buttons on it were gone. She blinked dumbly for a beat and let out an audible gasp.

“You gave your second button* to someone else?!” she exclaimed with shock, on the verge of tears and beating him up with her good arm. “How dare!”

“Of course not, dummy.” He reached into his pant pocket and revealed a golden stud in his palm. “I took it off and hid it before anyone saw. Besides…” He placed it into (Y/N)’s hand gently and pulled her into him. “It only belongs to you.”

Mitsuya leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss on her lips. Her hands found their way up to his chest and leaned into him as scattered snow-like pedals swept past them like a scene from a movie.

Snap.

The two promptly released when they heard a shutter go off from surprise; one of their classmates took a picture of their tender moment. (Y/N)’s face turned beet red and choked on her words from embarrassment when they found the culprit stalking from the edge of the building on the opposite end.

“EHH?! You two are dating?!” the photographer screamed, drawing the attention of those near by. “No freaking way!”

“Who’s dating who?”

“Mitsuya and (Y L/N)!”

“WHHHHAAAAA?!?!”

“Oh boy…” the lilac haired boy sighed and grabbed her hand. “Let’s run.”

“Don’t haveta tell me twice.”

The two ran around the school grounds with several classmates chasing them down, asking for an explanation.

“Is this a dumb enough youthful experience for you now?” her boyfriend joked as they continued running and laughed loudly.

“I don’t wanna hear that coming from you!” she angrily shouted back between breaths, still reeling in the mortifying moment.

“Get back here, you two! We need answers!”

A few days later, Draken contacted the captains to let everyone know there’d be a meeting tonight, much to everyone’s surprise. (Y/N) looked at the sukajan she hung up in her room to dry after washing it. Deciding against wearing it, she grabbed her leather jacket instead and headed out.

She decided Sendai Kitsune will become a memory on the mantle and Tokyo Kitsune will be its successor, with or without her brother’s friends' approval. She’ll take responsibility for the consequences.

She saw Mitsuya waiting for her around the corner as she made her way over. Giving him a quick peck on the lips, she took the spare helmet to put on and settled in behind him. With a smooth roar of his bike, they made their way to Musashi Shrine like so many times before. She let out a wondering hum looked around her like she was looking for something she dropped.

“What’s wrong?” her boyfriend asked as they waited at the light.

“I haven’t ridden much bikes but… Impulse feels like it’s gliding today.”

“Oh, you noticed?” the silver purple haired boy shot her a prideful grin. “I changed out the shock absorbers in the rear and the rubber fork up front. Draken managed to get ‘em for me when I was still fixing her up the other day.”

She drunk in the scenery of cars and bikes passing by, as if the seconds passed will turn it into a distant memory. Tenjiku was gone now, but who was to say another rival gang won’t rise up to attack them again? If the previous conflict’s taught her anything, it’s peace doesn’t last long if no one’s fighting for it. Slowly pulling up to the parking lot of the temple, several Toman members noticed the moment Mitsuya and (Y/N) got off. Some approached them and bowed deeply at her, taking her by surprise.

“Eh? Eh? What’s going on?” she panicked and held her hands close to her chest, her head rigidly whipping left and right.

“We would like to apologize for being rude to you on the night of the Tenjiku fight,” the small group admitted. “We regret our actions and words and hope you can forgive us.”

“A-Ah, it’s fine. Please, stop bowing,” she meekly pleaded. “I should apologize as well. I said a lotta harsh things too.”

“Seein’ you go head to head with the Haitanis was fuckin’ awesome!” one member remarked with giddiness and sparkle in his eyes. “And that kick you did was so cool!”

"I felt that impact on my back when you flipped Haitani Rindou like that!"

A few of them gathered around her, wanting to talk with her more and ask advice on how to fight better. All she could do was humbly chuckle and downplay her participation yet again. Mitsuya smirked from the sidelines, watching his girlfriend take in her moment. He eventually stepped in and dispersed the crowd by telling them it was almost time for the meeting.

“You look like you needed help there,” he chuckled and reached for her hand, to which she accepted.

“Sorry. I’m just bad at dealing with people who look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“With admiration…” she muttered and blushed. “It’s embarrassing.”

“I admire you,” Mitsuya bluntly declared. “Do I embarrass you?”

“Wh--?!” She turned to look at him with a small pout. “That’s diff--” The second division captain cut her off mid-sentence with his lips on hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist before releasing.

“I admire you because I love you.” He touched his forehead to hers with half-lidded eyes.

“I wish you’d stop making me blush like this before a meeting,” she grumbled out and sighed, making him chuckle deeply.

“Would you rather have me do somethin’ else to justify it then?” Just as the second division captain moved toward her neck, (Y/N) immediately shoved him off with steam rising from the top of her head and walked ahead.

“We have a meeting to get to!”

Making their way up to the shrine with everyone else, Mikey stood in his usual spot with Takemichi to his left. It looked like they were talking about something before. She noticed there was something inside Toman’s leader that’s changed, like he’s hiding a part of himself. Just as he announced they were now the top gang in Japan after many sacrifices, the commander suddenly declared their dissolution.

“I want to end it while we’re at the top,” was all the commander said with a reflective, despondent smile. Everyone, captains included, reacted as one would expect: shock, disbelief, sadness. As he called up the captains one by one, (Y/N) kept observing. Something was definitely off.

The look on his face, the expression in his dark eyes…

This wasn’t he wanted to do but felt he needed to do on his own. Why? Did Emma’s death affect him this much? Was this his way in pushing those he’s close to away? Questions gave way to more questions in her head and was paused when he called her name.

“You were only with us for a short period of time, but thank you for supporting Toman up until now.” He spoke with a tone of distant kindness. “I know Mitsuya will be fine as long as he’s with you.”

That was it. She knew what he was doing. Her knowing gaze on the president reflected his solution, to which Mikey took note of and abruptly looked away before calling Draken up finally.

“Sano Manjiro, you are one egotistical brat,” the vice commander stated. “’Throughout the heavens, I alone am the honored one.’ We were all attracted to your charisma, which brought us to where we are now… I have no objections to the leader’s decision!”

He then bowed deeply, thanking the president. And in Manjiro fashion, he ended the disbandment with an inspirational message: Toman is forever in your hearts. The rest of the gang cheered as their cried, chanting the name they so proudly wore on their backs.

“Mikey… What are you trying to accomplish here?”

After the meeting disbanded for the final time, the captains gathered at the back of the shrine, still digesting the news. (Y/N) looked around and sighed to herself. As much as she wanted to confront the former commander about this, now wasn’t the time; the gang was apart of so much of their lives. Having experienced this with Kitsune, she empathized deeply.

They needed time to grieve.

“I can’t believe Toman’s no more, big bro,” Angry sniffled out and wiped his tears, to which his brother agreed.

“I’d do the same…” Smiley replied. “That guy’s lost so many important things to him.”

She walked over and handed the twins some tissues she had in her jacket pocket, to which they accepted and thanked her for. Watching his back from a distance, she noticed how much heavier his shoulders were compared to before.

He mentioned something about “to change the future” to Takemichi before; did it have to do with that?

“You look like your brain’s gonna cook itself in your head.” She blinked back to reality and looked up to see Mikey with his usual calm smile. Before she could speak, he answered for her.

“I’m not doing this to push any one away,” he clarified. “I’m doing this to protect everyone.”

“From what?”

“… From me,” he looked down and muttered to himself before showing his face again with the same smile. “So don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be fine.”

“Y’know that’s gonna have the opposite effect,” she flatly replied. Before she could pry any more, Hakkai suggested creating a time capsule to commemorate the disbandment, to which everyone agreed.

“Let’s write a letter to our future selves,” Mikey added. “And we’ll open it 12 years later!”

“Twelve years is oddly specific…” she noted to herself, but those around her thought it interesting and left it as is. Toman’s former commander suggested meeting here in a week and bring whatever’s important to them. After agreeing on the plan, the boys decided to take one final picture of the core group, with her as the photographer.

“I’d say my only regret was not taking more photos,” she confessed while adjusting the aperture and shutter speed of her camera. “I wanted to make a book out of it.”

“You were gonna use Toman to turn a profit?!” Chifuyu exclaimed. “What a crass woman.”

“That’s my girl you’re talkin’ ‘bout,” Mitsuya cocked his eyebrow at the blond, feeling offended for her.

“I was gonna make an album for myself n’ you dumb asses!” she shouted angrily and took a few test shots around the area for lighting adjustments. “What do you take me for?!”

Having established the pose, she focused in with a small tint of pink on her cheeks. They all decided to unbutton their jackets to drape over their shoulders, flexing their pecs and abs. She couldn’t help but think back to when she first saw Mitsuya during the Black Dragons’ fight with Taiju and lightly cleared her throat.

“What’s wrong? First time taking a photo with such muscular men?” Draken teased.

“Don’t flatter yourself, stick figure,” she deadpanned.

With the click of the shutter, the last of Toman was forever engraved in a photo.

Everyone wrapped up for the night, leaving Mitsuya and her alone at the shrine. They sat at the top of the stairs next to each other, staring at the vast emptiness of where members were not too long ago. She then reached over and cradled his head into the curve of her shoulder.

“You can cry, y’know.”

“I’m fine. I--”

“Drop the big brother act, Takashi,” she called him out, still staring straight at the shrine gate. “You’re a founding a member along with Mikey and Draken. You three are hurting the most. This team was your baby. You’re not the former second division captain of Tokyo Manji Gang nor are you the big brother to Luna and Mana at this moment.” Her hand trailed up from his neck to his cheek, where she gently caressed with her thumb. “Right now, you’re just Takashi. I’m right beside you, so lean on me more.”

And just like that, the dam of his emotions broke as he leaned into her shoulder and crumbled into sobs, hugging her from the side. Nearly four years of his wild youth, gone in the blink of an eye.

Toman gave him so much, but also took so much.

What was he going to do with himself now?

---

* Each button has a meaning on the school uniform; the second button represents "one's most beloved person" since it's the closest to their heart. Giving this away to a crush or your significant other means they're the most precious person to you. This is usually done during middle school or high school graduations, but I'm sure you know that already if you've read your share of shojo manga :)

---

Taglist: @netzukochannn @toobsessedsstuff @owiee12 @wakasasucker @ilykii @contreviva @crowbird @mor-pheus @yourrdarling

[pandoraarti]

So centaurworld finished apparently with season 2.

And i, being me, did that thing like I poorly explained it in my first and only NWK post.

Not actually watching it and just going through the tags to see what happened because I lack the patience, motivation and focus to actually sit down and watch stuff.

Going to put a read more in case I go into spoiler territory.

But I am going to talk about this picture mostly.

Ok this is mainly what if instead of elktaur coming back completely whole and normal looking, he still had the gooby bits from his one half of being the NWK....( I mean come on ,he was large and Gooby with a skull for a face and funky antlers)

But I can understand why they had him go back to being completely normal looking just so woman could see him one last time as himself. (And because he already had like three forms...)

Anyway it was very late Into the Night ,midnight to be precise when I drew this and I was very in the "God I'm tired" state. So that's why it looks a bit wonky.

[cordria]

Twin Cores - DP

Saw this headcanon on Tumblr… awhile ago? It stuck with me, and I ended up writing this, and now I can’t find it to give the person proper credit. Lemme know if anyone recognizes this idea and knows who came up with it. (heart) 

Was gonna do this idea for the Big Bang thing, but I forgot all about signing up. ;) Wonders. So I’ll just post it and come up with new ideas.

~2,700 words. 

--

Danny floated high above the clouds, up where the air was thin and cold and the stars sparkled brightly overhead. It was terribly late, and Danny knew he’d be paying for this at school tomorrow, but this was always the best part of his week. He couldn’t come up here all the time, but when he cound, he always found himself relaxing. Hands behind his head, he floated on his back, studying the stars.

He let out a breath through his lips and brought a hand forwards to massage his chest, closing his eyes. Yesterday had not been good day. An accident with some of his parents’ technology had completely ruined his day. For reasons Danny didn’t understand, his chest had felt overly full since. Almost like he needed to cough up something - which couldn’t be, because his ghost form didn’t have any real lungs to cough with. 

With a groan, Danny stretched and rolled his body through a bunch of sharp loop-the-loops and twists, hoping maybe he could work out the kink. Nothing. Hopefully it wouldn’t prevent him from getting a good night’s rest. He was exhausted.

He floated for a few minutes longer, watching the sky and hoping for a meteor or two, slowly turning the overfull feeling over in his mind. He pushed and prodded at the odd sensation, trying to come up with what in the world it could be. 

It had to relate to his parents’ invention. Unfortunately, the day was a fuzzy blur in Danny’s memory and if something in particular had happened to him, he wouldn’t be able to remember it on his own. All he could do on his own was a vague understanding of what had happened.

Getting zapped with one of the newer devices yesterday had resulted in Danny getting split - again. His ghost half had fallen captive to the hero-like obsession of his core, and had gone on a hero-spree. A memory of rescuing a cat from a tree in a very overblown, comic-like way surfaced and Danny buried his face in his hands, embarrassed for himself. “Ugh, I hope nobody videoed that. Or anything else,” he muttered.

His human half had wandered aimlessly through the day, not knowing what to do with no driving force behind everything he did. Vague memories of eating pizza and not noticing the ghost haunting the place next door until Sam pointed it out filtered through the shadows. 

From what he remembered, it hadn’t been a horrible sort of day for either half of him. His ghost half had been allowed to play with his obsession all day and his human half had gotten to just be… human. But he’d been split for much longer than ever before; Tucker and Sam were unable to work through how the strange invention worked. 

Danny didn’t remember being much help with the endeavour. In fact, he sort of remembered his human half stealing the device, passing it to his ghost half, and the thing getting placed on top of the school for the afternoon. Jazz finally got it using some of the newer modifications to the Fenton’s vehicle that allowed it to fly. 

By the time the three of them figured out how to reverse the effects, it was late in the evening on the second day - more than 36 hours since being split. Phantom had started to turn more and more ghost, losing more of his humanity each hour, delving deeper and deeper into this hero obsession. His eyes had turned more ghostly, teeth sharpening, fingers turning into claws. Even a cape had started to mist into view.

Danny slowly ran his tongue over his teeth - they were still a bit too sharp - and pulled his hands far enough away from his face to glance at his fingers. They weren’t claws, not like many ghosts had, but… his fingers no longer really looked human. The changes that had happened to his ghost form the last two days appeared to be permanent, even now that they were rejoined back together.

Danny… didn’t want to think about that. Not yet.

And his human half had started to go through changes as well. Danny vaguely remembered - towards the end of the escapade, when he’d convinced himself that he didn’t want to be rejoined with Phantom - trying to avoid everyone and ending up in a tree, floating in a very inhuman way. His totally human form regaining some of its ghost powers.

Danny mentally poked at the odd, full sensation in his chest again. Perhaps it was that his ghost powers had grown while he was separated. Phantom hadn’t been exactly a half-a-ghost when they’d been slammed back together. And Danny had been just a bit of ghost too. Perhaps now he was somehow 60% ghost and 50% human… and his body was trying to adjust to being too much ghost. 

His mind poked at the sensation in his chest just a bit too hard. Danny slammed his eyes shut tight as he felt the sensation of transformation travel through him - lightning sharp and aching into his phantom bones. Panic set in a second later. He couldn’t transform up here - there wasn’t enough oxygen for his human form to breathe. He’d pass out and fall to his death. 

He gasped and threw his arms out, instinctively trying to grab something even though he was on the edge of the atmosphere, as the transformation arced through his arms and legs. He kept his eyes closed as he fumbled for his ghost side. He needed to transform back fast. His human side would already be aching to breathe, desperate for oxygen after the last hour of being in ghost form.

But his ghost side… was… 

Danny opened his eyes as he realized he wasn’t falling. As he realized his ghost form wasn’t something to grab for, because he was still a ghost.

“But…” he whispered, startled and confused. He’d felt himself transform. There was no mistaking the sensation that had swept through him. He looked around, almost as if the answer would be written in the air next to him.

Then the stars caught his gaze. He froze, mouth falling open, as he stared up at the sky. There were more stars than before, the whole sky alight with points of light. And he knew them - with each star he focused his eyes on, he knew what that star was. How far away it was, what it’s name was, what kind of star it was… 

Delight sparkled inside him as he let his gaze drift across the heavens. Stars he didn’t even know existed seemed to soak into his skin, whispering all their secrets in his ears. “How…?” he breathed, twisting around and around and looking everywhere he could. “Why?”

His gaze snagged on the moon, crescent-shaped and gleaming. He almost felt like he was drowning in it’s glow, feeling everything about it. The ice hiding in its craters. The human-built machinery peppering its surface. The soft warmth still coiling in its dying core. He could just… go there. He could be there in about three seconds. He could just…

He threw up a hand, blocking the moon’s glow, blinking hard and pushing the thoughts out of his mind. “Holy shit,” he whispered, breathing hard, focusing on Earth, on human thoughts, on normalcy. “What is this?”

Then he saw his hand, thin fingers topped with sharp claws, glove missing. His forehead furrowed as he realized both his gloves were gone, as was the logo on his chest, and the white belt around his waist. A black shirt and black pants. His boots looked like his normal shoes, just moon-lit white. Actually, minus the claws and some color changes, he looked… like he had yesterday. “Uh… What is going on with me?” 

He could feel the pull of the stars overhead. He knew he could just lean back, put his arms behind his head, and float there, watching the sky forever. Just revel in space for all time. Instead, he kept his gaze down towards the tops of the clouds. 

At least the first step of what he should do now was clear. Whenever he was dealing with anything out of the ordinary, Sam and Tucker knew what to say. They’d help. He’d go home, grab his phone, and call them. 

Danny flew towards Amity Park-

-and suddenly drew to a stop. He twisted around, eyes wide, realizing that he’d somehow overshot his home by a dozen miles or more. “What the fuck?” he said. He’d only been flying for a moment - how was he all the way over here? “I…”

He licked his lips and tried again. He set his gaze on Amity Park and flew-

-right past Amity Park again. It was an eyeblink of time between one side of the city and the other. Danny hung in the air, confused and slightly annoyed. “What is going on?” he said. A new power, obviously - but one that had unfortunate timing. His fingers curled, the claws digging uncomfortably into his palms. “This is what I get for leaving my phone behind,” he groused. The phone wouldn’t have done well in the thin, cold atmosphere. Even if he’d have brought it with, there was no guarantee it would have still been working. 

“Are all my powers wonky?” Danny asked, raising his hand and pushing energy into his hand. Instead of a steady, gas-like glow, the energy sparkled and hissed, like he was holding onto an exploding firework. “Odd.”

His powers were working differently, so it was time to try using them differently. Time to change tactics. Instead of focusing on a direction, Danny focused his mind on a destination. He closed his eyes, picturing where exactly he wanted to end up. Opening his eyes and taking a deep breath, he tried to fly as slowly as possible.

The world seemed to blur and twist, glowing uncomfortably bright for the fraction of a second Danny allowed himself to be in motion. When the world settled back into place, Danny found himself hovering about ten feet off the ground, within the city of Amiry Park, only about a half-mile from his house. “That worked a lot better,” he said, rather pleased with himself.

Instead of chancing another attempt at flying, Danny figured he’d turn himself human. A ten foot drop wouldn’t be too bad, and he could walk home. It would be the least-tricky way to get home. He took a moment to worry that this new power would prevent him from turning human as easily as normal, but then slammed that idea shut and closed his eyes. 

Danny pushed his ghost form away, pulling at that warm and heavy feeling in his mind. There was a sparkling sensation in his mind, then the sharp pain that came with turning himself human again. He dropped, landing lightly on his toes, breathing a heavy sigh of relief that at least this was still normal. He bounced a few times, testing out a few basic powers - invisibility seemed to work like normal, as did phasing through things. He didn’t try floating, for fear of accidentally ending up two towns over and two hundred feet above the ground in human form.

He walked home, rubbing his chest at that strange, too-full sensation, and snuck in the back door. Despite the fact that all the lights were out, he kept himself invisible to avoid his parents. It was so far past curfew that Danny didn’t even want to think about the trouble he’d be in if they realized he was still out. 

His bedroom door was still locked. Danny phased through it, flipped on the lights, and dumped himself into his bed. “Ugh,” he groaned, feeling the drain of the last two days on his body. He glanced over at the clock. Just before two in the morning. Part of him wanted to just curl up in his bed and fall asleep, try to get a few hours of sleep before tackling school tomorrow. But too much of him had a tight ball of anxious curiosity.

He groaned as he rolled out of bed and stepped in front of his mirror. He looked awful. Dark rings under his eyes and a horrible, pale tone to his skin. He looked half dead. “On the positive side, nobody will question it if I want to stay home sick tomorrow,” he muttered. He shuddered and shifted his weight, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then triggered the transformation.

His ghost form spread like lightning across his skin, slammed through his head, and settled into his chest like a cold ball of fire. He squeaked one eye open just a touch, not sure of what he was going to see. 

Phantom was peering back at him. Danny relaxed, letting his eyes open, and studied himself. From more than a few feet away, he looked absolutely normal. But up close, there were minor changes from the last few days. Teeth that were too pointy. Fingers that were a little more claw-like than normal. Hair that was more… smokey. Just a little. His mouth twisted, unsure of how he felt about the changes. “At least there’s no cape,” he murmured. “I’d look too much like Vlad with a cape.”

He squared his shoulders, set his teeth, and tried flying. He floated up and moved around his bedroom like normal. “So normal.” He caught sight of his claws and shivered. “Mostly.”

“Now…” He took a deep breath and jabbed hard at the over-full feeling in his chest. He was half-hoping nothing would happen. But light sparkled along his body, that tingling almost-painful sensation changing him in very subtle ways. His clothes changed from a jumpsuit to shirt and pants, his shoes looked like they would squeak on the floor as he walked. He was still glowing and transparent. “I’m… a different ghost?” He spread out his arms, feet firmly on the floor afraid to hover. “And I have like… superspeed.”

He took a very careful step forwards, peering closely at himself in the mirror. His eyes looked the same, with the normal green glow. His teeth were sharper, canines almost like little fangs. And… he leaned in, studying his freckles. They glowed, star-like, forming constellations across his skin. 

His mind veered off tangent, remembering the stars overhead, the glittering facts that swirled through his mind, the odd bubbling joy that came with even thinking about space. The freckles on his cheeks rearranged themselves into the constellation Draco, and sparks and speckles swirled into life across his clothes. A supernova that resolved itself into the stars overhead. Danny could trace the stars in his clothes, knew everything about each star. He was caught by the strongest urge to fly there. To zip through space to Alrakis, a binary star system eighty-eight light years away. It would only take him 221 years, 5 months, and 3 days…

Danny jerked himself out of his thoughts. He couldn’t fly for over two hundred years. He shuddered and blinked, settling back on his heels. The glowing freckles on his face settled down, his clothes faded back to black. The familiar sort of pitch-black of space. The sort of black Danny imagined the universe looked like before stars existed. “I have space powers now,” Danny realized, his voice slow and excited. “I have space powers! I’m a space ghost!”

Curious, Danny poked at that over-full feeling in his chest again. The world tingled and flashed, and he was back to his old self. Phantom, with the logo and the better posture and the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. “I’m two ghosts, somehow? Two ghosts… and a human...” Danny stared at himself in the mirror. “Or...” he rested his hand on his chest, feeling that strange overly-full feeling. “Or something…?”

Danny shook his head, not sure where to even begin processing that one. Then he turned himself human again, watching the world get dark as the ghost energy faded away. He scratched at his scalp, trundled over to his bed, and dropped into its softness. 

There wasn’t much he knew right then. The first was that space powers were the coolest power he could have gotten. And the second was that all this would be easier to process after a few hours of sleep and a large cup of caffeine. 

[duvetsandpillows]

Lucky One

Pete Davidson x Reader 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Swearing, mention of needles, slight angst, drug use

A/N: This is my first Pete fic but I think I will definitely be writing more. Please let me know what you think!

I sat in bed, joint in one hand, lighter in the other. I’d been staring at the wall for the past half hour or so, drowning in my thoughts, forgetting the joint I’d been fiddling with was there to be smoked.

I was thinking about everything and nothing all at once. Have I taken my antidepressant? What do they do with the bagel holes? You’re gonna be alone forever. Don’t forget your earring is behind the back left leg of the desk. New thoughts beginning before the last one could end. I was exhausted yet I hadn’t done anything to warrant feeling so drained. I’d only left my bed to piss.

“Hey you home?” I glanced over at my door, reality setting back in, before realizing how messy my bed was; sketchbook and pencils scattered everywhere, weed crumbs and ash from not paying attention to what I was doing and empty monster cans. I kicked as much as I could off the end of the bed before putting the long forgotten joint to my lips and sparking it. The door slowly opened, Pete standing in the doorway holding a bag and a coffee.

“Whatcha doing in bed B?” he asked climbing into the bed handing me the coffee. I took a toke and thanked him while passing him the joint.

“I just don’t feel like moving. I feel like shit, my brain won’t stop for just a second. I just want everything to stop.” My voice breaking as I began to fight back tears. He blew smoke into the air, putting his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side, handing me the joint.

“Breathe B, you’re gonna be okay. I know that sounds like bullshit but I’m here to help you through it.” I took a take and wiped a stray tear from my eye. “It’s always been me and you hasn’t it, that’s not gonna stop now. Did you take your antidepressant today?”

“I can’t remember,” I squeaked, letting the tears win the battle. Pete put his other arm around my chest and squeezed tight, resting his hand on the back of my head and rubbing his thumb.

He would whisper little pick me-ups every few minutes while I cried. “At least you didn’t walk straight into a street light like I did.” I looked up to see him pointing to a small bruise on his forehead. “I saw a woman carrying a dog in a baby sling thing and then boom! Street Light.” I giggled before taking a deep breath and wiping my tears with my sleeves.

“I guess you could say she threw you off your rhythm.” He rolled his eyes and pushed my head playfully before chuckling.

We’d been friends practically our whole lives, yet it was rare for us to talk about deep shit. Not because we didn’t care but we were good at talking each others minds off all the bullshit. 

“Movie, smoke, munch? I brought gushers and twizzlers.”

“Only if I get to pick.”

“Obviously, you always pick.” I scoffed and sat up, rolling my eyes.

“Bullshit, we constantly watching The Mule.”

“Not my fault you can’t appreciate a masterpiece,” he said as he grabbed my rolling tray from the end of the bed and I began flicking through Netflix for something to watch.

“Your hair looks nice by the way,” he mumbled, eyes focused on rolling the joint. I glanced over at my reflection in the mirror, I looked as if I’d just climbed out of the hedge. I smiled and thanked him, deciding to put on Knocked Up.

Pete told me what he’d been up to all week and who the guests were gonna be while we watched the film. I made him a twizzler ring and he attempted to make me a bracelet but he couldn’t work out how to get the knot to stay tight.” After a couple more joints I sat up on my knees and faced him.

“Could... I maybe colour in your tattoos?” I asked, placing my hand on his leg to stay balanced, realizing how high I was after not moving for so long.

“Yeah of course, which one first?” I smiled and pointed to the unicorn on his arm and leant off the end of the bed to grab my pens, Pete grabbing hold of my foot as I almost fell off. After I’d finished the unicorn I moved onto the direwolf underneath. Pete was flicking through the pages of my sketchbook as I added icy blue to the eyes.

“Y’know,” he started, passing me a joint, “I reckon you could be a tattoo artist. You could even practice on me.” I stopped and looked at him a bit taken back.

“I’ve never thought about it before.”

“Maybe you should.”

Once I finished the direwolf I looked up to see Pete had dozed off, I smiled and pulled a blanket over him, moving the sketchbook off his lap. I rolled a joint and glanced at the open drawing of a group of clouds I’d been working on but hadn’t yet worked out what should accompany them.

I thought about what Pete said and picked up the sketchbook and a pencil. I smoked while drawing Frank the bunny’s head from Donnie Darko. It was my favourite film and Pete had watched it with me countless times.

After an hour or so I finished the outline and most of the infill with different shades of blue. I felt Pete roll over and put his arm across my lap. I looked down to see him, eyes half open, observing my drawing.

“That’s amazing.” His voice gruff and low.

“Thank you,” I said passing him a monster from my bedside table. He sat up partially and took a sip before handing it back to me. “Good nap?” He nodded and laid back down into my side.

“You should put that on me,” He kicked his leg out from under the blanket and pointed to the side of his thigh. “Here would be perfect.”

“If you’d like.” He sat up again and gently tore the sketch out of the book.

“Come on then.” I frowned and tilted my head slightly. “There’s a guy that could do this now, you could get one too?”

I stared at him in a bit of shock, not expecting him to actually want one of my pieces on his body. I thought he was saying it just to be nice. Also as I’d never considered getting a tattoo before. Not because I didn’t like them but more because I was nervous; I wasn’t great with needles and if tattoo’s would suit me.

“You up for it?”

“What if I look awful with one?” I blurted, Pete’s smile morphed into confusion.

“Why would you look awful?” You always look great.” I could feel my cheeks getting warm and I couldn’t help but ever so slightly smile. “Plus I think you’d look hot with one,” he mumbled handing me the sketchbook, open to a small drawing of a sheep I’d done high while watching Shaun the Sheep.

“It’s small, if you want it to be hidden then it’s easy.” I looked down at the doodle and thought about it for a moment.

“Fuck it lets go.”

I sat on a chair next to Pete watching as the tattoo artist, Jon, carefully traced over the light purple outline in dark blue ink. I began adding to my sheep. A few clouds in the background, similar to the ones on Pete’s.

“What you doing?” I handed him the paper, glancing over at his leg, in awe at how it was turning out. I looked back at Pete who was smiling at the drawing. I held out the pencil to him, when he didn’t notice I poked his arm with it.

“Ow, dick,” he said pouting and rubbing his arm. “What am I meant to do with this?”

“Add something to it, you got a piece of me,” I pointed to his leg. “Your turn.”

“I can’t draw like you and-”

“And I don’t care. Draw.”

While Pete drew, not phased at all by the needle going in and out of his leg, I chatted with Jon, asking him question about how he became a tattoo artist and what it’s like. I was slowly becoming more interested the more I watched him work. Once he was done he turned to me.

“You ready?” he asked, I nodded nervously and Pete passed him the design. Pete swapped places with me after taking a look at it in the floor length mirror. I decided to get it on my arm as I decided I wanted to always be able to see it now Pete had added to it. I told them I didn’t want to see it until it was finished, wanting Pete’s addition to be a surprise. I looked over at Pete, nerves starting to kick in a little.

“Have I ever told you I’m not brilliant with needles?” He chuckled and took my hand in his.

“Yep,” I winced as the needle hit my skin. “Like the time you gave blood because you thought that nurse was cute and threw up all over him before fainting.” I chuckled before biting the inside of my cheek and gripped his hand tight. “You’re good, just keep your eyes this way,”

Pete kept chatting with me and rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand, keeping me distracted from the pain.

“Should I be nervous with what you drew? It’s just clicked how much trust I’ve given you.” He pursed his lips, holding back either as smile or a laugh. “Pete...”

“Nah nah nah, it’s not that bad, but you said to add a bit of me. Trust me you’ll love it.” I raised my eyebrows before gripping his hand again, feeling a muscle in my arm unintentionally spasm.

“You’re good, it happens sometimes, we’re almost done here.”

After ten more minutes it was all done and he was wiping it up. It was aching it a little but I was really excited to see it.

“You ready to see it?” I nodded and looked at my arm to see the best tattoo I could imagine. The clouds were a beautiful combination of greys and whites, my sheep now with a spliff in its mouth and a second, slightly wonky looking, sheep with a spliff also in its mouth and sunglasses on. It kind of looked like a child drew the second sheep but I loved it even more for that.

“I put our initials at the bottom so we don’t forget who is who.” I giggled looking at his scruffy handwriting underneath. “So... what do you think?”

“I fucking love it!” I said wrapping my arms around him hugging him as tight as I could. “Thank you Pete.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek and let Jon wrap my arm up in cling film.

We grabbed some Taco Bell on the way home, I was designated DJ and he driver. I was, questionably, rapping along to Colson and Corpse’s new song while Pete laughed at me. He slipped his hand into mine, giving it a small squeeze and continued driving and started rapping along as if that was a normal for us to hold hands. I smiled and gave his a squeeze back even though I was a bit shocked. Shocked but yet it felt normal.

“You can roll the next one, my arm aches,” I said flopping onto my bed.

“Is that gonna be your excuse for the next week?” 

“Did it work?” I looked up to see him shaking his head and chuckling as he picked up the rolling tray.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” I smiled and winked as it sat up. 

“You’re lucky too, you get to look at this cute face all the time.” Pete leant forward and took my hand, pulling me into his lap.

“What would you say, if I asked you out... to dinner or something?” I wrapped my arms around his neck and furrowed my eyebrows.

“What like a date?” His smile and confidence drained from his face immediately and I had to force myself to hold back a laugh.

“It doesn’t have to be no, I just- aw fuck.” I started pissing myself laughing, holding onto him tight to keep my balance.

“Yes I’d love to go on a date, if you hurry up and roll that joint, I teased winking at him, swinging myself off his lap. “I’ll even put on The Mule yeah?”

“I’m definitely the lucky one.”