#for ziggy's chars !

[noxtms]

+   007   𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃   𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒  !

[jonquilyst]

Day 11 - Socialization Day

Welcome to another socialization day, where this time it was Ziggy's (OD) turn to set the kitchen ablaze and rudely awaken the entire plane!

Thankfully, Ziggy was able to put the fire out himself and he enjoyed breakfast a charred mess. At least Raylan (OD) was there to cheer him up with some funny videos after Ziggy cleaned himself up!

With Marilyn (OD) and Carson (IN) now in new teams, today is their chance to attempt to integrate with their new teammates. Marilyn started out by telling Minato (OD) a dramatic story, then laughed as Minato and Touma (OD) monkeyed around. I think she enjoys their dynamic! (I do too)

Meanwhile, Carson decided to try his luck with Avery (IN), who was hanging out in the mess hall like he was! Carson is not allowed in first class with the rest of the team, as he did not contribute to Team Integrity's win, so Team Integrity will also need to make an effort to interact with Carson outside of first class if they want to take advantage of having a new team member!

Raylan also made strides with his teammates by sharing funny videos with Minato and Nite (OD) too!

For those of you who want Matteo (IN) and Carson to be friends, good news! Matteo approached him this afternoon and like Raylan, showed him a funny video 😋

Alanna (IN) spent most of her day with Estrello (IN) and the PC in first class, but she too made an effort to interact with Carson today!

This evening, Marilyn decided to spend her dinnertime with Touma, but in the end... our beret club just can't help but interact with each other. They miss each other dearly and decided to share each other the funny videos each of their teams showed to them today.

So far, these two were successful with interacting with their new teammates, but with merge still a ways away, the real question is whether or not these two will be able to survive in their teams long enough to be reunited in the merge. We will see!

Today's Confessional: Minato Matsuda

"I think it's awesome that we have a new team member! It just means a new person to hang out with, and I for one enjoyed hanging out with Marilyn today. I've seen how she's gotten around in Team Success, may it rest in peace, so I know she's gonna want to make friends too! She really has a way with swaying a crowd and making friends fast, and she's been pretty good at challenges, so I wanna try to be her friend so that our team can keep winning challenges!"

@ethicaltreatmentofcowplants @nakasumi-sims @paracosmic-sims @ravingsockmonkey @lyratea

@bloomingkyras @aliengirl @changingplumbob @hellogreta @kissalopa

@matchalovertrait @invisiblequeen

[capricioussun]

Been a minute, but I found the note and finished it up a bit. These guys are still very new and subject to change as I get a better feel for them

Off brands

Okay, starting with the initial group mentioned: the three papyruses.

Castor (Fell Papyrus) - outwardly comes across cold and harsh, tends to keep to himself and avoids socializing, short temper for getting annoyed but pretty hard to genuinely piss off. Won't talk about his AU to anyone but Calcine, anything relating to his brother is a very sore spot.

7'2, for piercings, has a nasal ridge bar, one horizontal brow bone, and one teardrop, both on the left side. Has rings down each outer ledge of his scapula, sometimes laces ribbon through them. For "tattoos" (etchings w/ stain), he has stars scattered on the right side of his skull, oleander flowers on his left shoulder, and a bat across his inner sacrum where it meets the lumbar spine (possibly others, yet to be determined).

Has significant scarring, though maybe not as much as Edge. Candy apple red magic with hints of purple. Ringed eyelights that aren't prone to changing shape very often, but when extremely angry, pin dots appear in the center of the rings.

•

Calcine (Tale Papyrus) - outwardly comes across very similar to canon Papyrus, but almost like it's a stage role he’s forgetting the lines to. Slightly calmer and less whimsical/humorous, more prone to apparent anxiety, but tries very hard to act as "normal" (when compared to canon Papyrus) as possible. Won't discuss what wound him up here, but will happily talk about his AU prior. It sounds like...undertale.

6'5, the bones of his entire body up until his skull are burnt, permanently charred, but he makes no effort to hide this. Might have eyelights...? Sometimes it appears there is light coming from deeper within his skull but he makes an effort to prevent others from seeing this. Blue magic.

•

Anthias (Swap Papyrus) - outwardly seems a bit quiet and distracted, but otherwise generally friendly. Laid back and tries to keep calm no matter the situation, despite often times those around him being more prone to panicking and ignoring him. Will talk vaguely about his brother and a few others from his AU but not much else.

6'7, very similar appearance-wise to a standard swap Papyrus, though he has prominent freckles and blue magic. Typically tries to wear clothes to cover his body and the few scars he does have unless around others he's very comfortable with.

Their dynamics w/ each other ⬇️

Calcine was the first person to get Castor to open up...at least a little bit. It was hard won, but he does, finally, consider Calcine a genuine friend. They've talk more about their own AUs to each other than anyone but still haven't actually said much, especially not about the afflictions that separate them from the "standards".

While they do care for one another, neither are particularly good at actually looking out for the other, and on occasion, even enable bad habits. They're working on it.

Anthias and Calcine have known each other since before Castor joined them, but never really spoke much until after. Despite his laid back aura, Anthias is deeply self conscious, which caused an unintentional rift between the two with Calcine finding him to be aloof. Eventually though, they get to know each other better, and even become very close friends. Calcine has since earned the nickname Ziggy from Anthias.

Castor and Anthias met through Calcine, though Anthias had been very curious about him since Castor's arrival. They didn't get along so well at first, mostly because of Castor's standoffish nature, but as he settled in more, they gradually found themselves easing around the other, (with the mediation of Calcine, too, of course). They have more of an unspoken understanding type of dynamic, and enjoy spending quiet time together or working independently in the same place. Anthias jokingly calls him Cassie sometimes, leading to Castor referring to him as nearly any feminine A name in response (ie Annabelle, Andrea, Annie, Alexis, etc)

I don't have proper refs for any of them, but I've drawn Castor and Anthias before (prior to deciding to make them entirely separate variants)

Castor vis ref • Anthias vis ref

[lordstumpy]

Kia ora this is mcfrostee as you can tell because my name is at the top of the post. People don’t make many Goron OC’s and that makes me sad, so I did what any self-respecting Goron fan would do and created this guy.

I present to you: Iggy/Ziggy, (he/they) short for Igneous. He’s in a rag-tag *rock* band with some other Hyrulean folks I am yet to design. He plays the drums probably (at the moment) and secretly (not secret any more) has a really angelic singing voice but doesn’t put it to use that often.

He’s quite eccentric for a Goron, despite this he’s actually pretty humble and kinda shy, but he really comes out of his shell when he’s jamming with his crew. He has various zig-zag tattoos hence the nickname - Ziggy. He dyes his hair with some char/coal based substance. I love him, I hope you do too! Off to work on the rest of the band…

[museinspo]

hi love! could you please give me some names that would fit madison bailey? (would be amazing if they have a nickname that could be used for them too!) thanks so much. <3

oh, i love doing name suggestions so much! the first list are names with possible nicknames , and the second list are names that already sound like nicknames ! let me know if you'd like some more <3

alexandra ( alex , lexi / lex , xandra )

adriana ( adri , ana )

ashton ( ash )

aurora ( rory )

belinda ( billy / billie )

brooklyn ( brooke )

cassandra ( cas , cassie )

charlotte ( charlie / charlee , lottie , char )

ellery ( ellie )

emery ( emmy )

eva ( evie )

felicity ( flick )

georgia ( georgie , gia )

harriet ( harrie )

henrietta ( henrie , etta )

indiana ( indy )

isabelle / isabella ( izzy , isa , belle , bella )

janelle ( nellie )

jocelyn ( josie )

jordyn ( jordie )

jessica ( jess , jessie )

kaitlyn ( katie , kait )

kennedy ( ken , kenny )

lucinda ( lucy , luca , luc )

matilda ( tilly / tillie )

millicent ( millie )

nikita ( kit , nik / niki )

olympia ( pia )

quintessa ( quinn , qunnie )

rosalia ( rosa , rose , lia )

sylvia ( sylvi )

scarlet ( scar )

samantha ( sam , sammy )

teagan ( teags )

tayla ( tay )

valentina ( val , vallie )

winona ( winnie )

ziggy , zia , wolfie , shae , remy , romee , rhys , rocky , olive , noa , minnie , lux , kia , kirby , ivy , goldie , daisy , darcy , connie , cody , bea , bonnie , bowie .

[sleepyboizclub]

Forcing myself to make a main oc chart before i lose motivation♡

₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘ . ݁�� ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Hello. HI. HIYA. :D

If you know me, You may know VERY well that i am mildly obsessed with oc making and stuff

BUT did you know i have a main group of ocs i favor?

MY MAIN 4 DIVINITY CHARS!!

My current cast for Divinity is like..huge.

But anyway, I realized: If i dont wanna make a huge chart of ALL the characters...

Why not just make one with only the main four + Some honorable mentions? Much better!!! And easier on my tired soul.

Am i motivated enough to write down their backstories yet? No. But take what you can get, People.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Offical names!

*Plus nicknames!:

♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇

Vixen Carrion

*Nicknames: X, Vix, The princess

<><><><><><><>

Corodite Igero (Ty to the friend that let me steal this lil guy ^^)

*Nicknames: Coro, Ziggy(?)

|}|}|}|}|}|}|}|}|}

Aidlyn Venison

*Nicknames: Lyn, Sniper

○●○●○●○●○●○●

TJ Kane (He doesn't deserve 2 colors. Can you tell i play favorites?)

*Nicknames: None, In particular.

Nnnnow that we got that outta the way!

THE ACTUAL CHART 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

¤☆¤☆¤☆¤☆¤☆¤☆

How do the rest of the squad feel about...

Vixen?

----

Aidlyn -> "Oh, Her? Ehh..We've been friends for a while! Met like two years ago! She's like.. literally if we had modern princesses. Do we have modern princesses...? Like... The ones that still dress fancy and stuff?"

Coro -> "She's.. kinda fun to be around? And really pretty, I guess. I like the dresses she makes too! Not my style, But i'm sure my little sister would wear something Vix made sometime..."

TJ -> "She's fucking AWESOME! This one time she taught me how to braid hair, and she's like, so so cool, and like, I'm lucky to be her friend, for real, Like-"

<><><><><><><>

What does the squad think of...

Coro?

○●○●○●○●○●

Tj -> "Not to like, Brag, But I'm literally his best friend. I think. I hope? We met in middle school. Isn't that like- Bond for life type shit? Staying friends this long GOTTA mean we're besties, yea?"

Vixen -> "Personally, I think he's pretty kind! I don't see why others don't! Sure...Maybe he could come off less...Persistant? And less of a smartass... But really, He's super sweet when he tries. If not a little awkward."

Aidlyn -> "The emo fuck is plain weird, genuinely. Vixen's way too nice to him, not gonna lie. If it wasn't for Hazel, I would have seriously done something about him by now..."

|}|}|}|}|}|}|}|}|}

What does the squad think of...

Aidlyn?

°•°•°•°•°•

Vixen -> "She's so rude sometimes, But she's still my friend! I wish she would be a bit more open, But Lyn just doesn't budge..heh. As long as she doesn't start drama, I guess I can't do anything."

TJ -> "She's SO scary with a gun. Who even GAVE her that!? I'M THE ONLY ONE WITH ACCESS TO THE WEAPONS! And she just...CARRIES ONE EVERYWHERE NOW? FROM WHERE? HOW? She's just fucking SCARY!"

Coro -> "...She won't leave me alone, for starters. She's like a stalker, damn it. I genuinely think she wants me dead, and no one does anything about it. Maybe if I got to her first..."

¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?

What does the squad think about...

TJ?

<^><^><^><^><^>

Coro: "I actually have...No clue why we're still friends. He just started following me like a dog one day. Does he even know we aren't friends? Just because he's been in my house once or twice isn't friendship... But i doubt he knows that."

Vixen -> "He's a fun training partner! Atleast he knows how to keep a mood light!☆ His luck is such a cool thing, too! I wish i could calculate it...It would make such a good study topic!"

Aidlyn -> "...Who? OHHH that guy. I don't give a shit about him. I barely remember his name, Honestly. He's friends with the freak, So I bet on all the shit I own he's equally fucked up."

Bonus:

How does their assigned Goddess (Hazel) feel about each of them?

☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇

Vixen -> "Sometimes, I feel like she's the only one who takes training seriously. She actually wants to get better. I wouldn't be surprised if she surpassed the rest, no matter how much she misses out on."

Coro -> "A pain. In. My. ASS. Out of everyone, The gods chose HIM to give godhood to? Seriously, Did anyone think it through looking at this kid!? He doesn't even like Water, and it's his OWN DOMAIN!"

Aidlyn -> "If she spent more time practicing her real abilities and not with guns, I'm sure she'd be a powerful goddess indeed! Yet, She's not. For good reason."

TJ -> "Too eager to help out and ends up messing everything up in the process. I can't even entrust him with something as simple as cleaning! However, I guess he gets pity points for trying. The same can't be said for...others."

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

SIGHH.

Almost lost motivation but i pushed through

(Shit like this is NOT for the weak. Aka me.)

Anyyyyways I'm definitely gonna try to talk about these silly guys more! (Love them so much eaughshhd)

[star-crossed-mid]

ZYGLAVIS TRADE DEAL MEME

physical appearance hc/meme alternatives below readmore so I don't spam

Originally the meme (i found it in my notes) was zyglavis trying to trade Leon, Ichthys for Huedhaut. Zyg and Hue kind of have a on/off relationship but Zyg does try to recruit Huedhaut into punishments in a few of his stories but they never get around to talk.

Further updated, ever since playing Zyg, I don't think he would give up ichthys or anyone in punishments they're so closely knit.

Leon would sell Teo for a bag of chips and get him back later its crazy.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE HEADCANONS:

I like to hc a few things about how zyglavis physically looks. I used references from:

Peter Steele (Jerry Trainer Interview), Haatepah Clearbear, David Bowie (Ziggie Stardust persona), Fandom portrayels of Enki (Fear and Hunger) and Damian Bloodmarch (Dream Daddy), and more my pinterest is messy

I personally believe Zyglavis has monolids and thick eyebrows given by his sprite. I don’t believe the gods have ethnicities/nationalities. They just have various features from different cultures. Some of the gods you can tell they have “wider” and hooded eye shapes (Dui, Teo) but certain char sprites like Scorpio, Huedhaut, and Zyglavis have smaller eye shapes.

Also Zyg def has resting bitch face or just the angry brows

I really love the idea that even in their human forms, the gods don’t 100% look like humans. (I'm all for the eldritch abomination, lovecraftian, biblically accurate god form designs.)

Granted they will start showing irregularities if their powers start fucking up (Teo/Leon). They come off as otherworldly still (too beautiful, too perfect, sparkly etc) and if a human stared at the gods too long it would induce a sense of uncanniness eventually.

Bcuz Zyglavis rules over the constellation of Libra, I imagine that in his human appearance he’s 100% symmetrical bcuz he’s the balanced scales (except for his ponytail).

I have assigned him the vibes of being the most preppy goth ever. Looks like a goth, dresses like a prep.

[sketches--of--the--scenery]

INKTOBER 2023 "Dream" - Ziggy had troubled dreams. Things came, long and grasping; things that crawled from behind the icewall, invisible to the naked eye, pushed and pulled by the wind. Mythic things, and shapes from the fables his grandmother had told him. They wafted trails of foul odors that lead nowhere, and, as he stared, he could see, looming over the marsh, headless and giant, a white and gold lizard. It stood, clinging to the charred shapes of pines that stretched out from beyond the marsh. And it sang; oh, how it sang. -

[robinsantos]

"You can laugh all you want now but I'm being serious." Robin warned with a laugh of her own. "You won't be finding it so funny when you're waiting to wash that mane of hair and I'm only on step four of a twelve step routine." Something tells her that Ziggy is a man who takes pride in his appearance, so she doesn't worry that her twelve step shower routine might make him regret letting her the room.

It was too late now even if he did start having regrets—Robin had already signed a six month lease.

"Anything else?" She adds a Pepsi to the basket on her phone for Ziggy and a lemon flavoured Coca Cola for herself. "Let me recap before I place this order and double check we aren't forgetting anything." Robin begins reeling off their drink order again along with Ziggy's three katsu dishes and Robin's char siu pulled pork bao buns.

"That's everything we want?"

"It's mostly clothes." It was impossible to bring everything with her when she had moved back to Aurora Bay on a whim and without a roof over her head to call home. "I had to pack light."

Ziggy laughed at the warning, gesturing to indicate that he would take a mental note of that, pulling out the desk chair that was tucked against the desk near the window to seat himself down on it. All three options sounded good, which is why he's glad she was on the same wavelength as him about it.

"Absolutely, if it's too much we can just share. Like tapas but better."

He leans back against the chair, stretching out his back from all the lifting, surveying the boxes dotted around the room for how much work lay ahead.

"You've got a lot of stuff. Can you add a Pepsi on to that order too? I'm going to need the sugar to get through all this manual labour."

@robinsantos

[noxtms]

+   006   𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃   𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒  !

[revivedher]

thinks  about  nick  canonically  having  christine  by  stephen  king  on  his  bookcase.  dies  a  little.

[schmdts]

cαηση   ᵒᶰᵉˡᶤᶰᵉʳ   𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍,   accepting.             @judyblumed​.​

❛   i’m   getting   out   of   here.   off   to   𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑚   𝑚𝑦   𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒   among   the   STARS,   bitch.   ❜

[ancmalous]

Ziggy clocked her the second she walked in. She'd always been hard for him to miss. Like a magnetic pull on a compass, he was drawn to her -- a fact that bothered him far more than his ego would ever let show. He had a reputation to maintain, a life to live that did not include a one-track mind, or a one-only girl. Zig was no fool, he knew he was a shit person, he knew he did shitty things, but he also had a pretty good set of justifications for everything he did. Insufferable, an adjective best used to describe everything he is.

So no, he didn't feel all that bad right now, with his hands around Molly's waist...or was it Tony's? Who fucking cares. His eyes were set elsewhere, and he did not break the contact, not even when the others lips brushed against his own, alcohol-ridden breath reflecting against the girls cheek while he watched Charity head their way. Bait taken, nerve struck, he felt pretty proud of himself actually -- he was half-certain it would take a lot more than that.

He discards the blonde as effortlessly as he'd picked her up, not even bothering to hear out whatever insult she'll undoubtedly blurt out. Stumbling across the uneven ground, he walks after Char, smug smile pressed on as he caught up. "Oh come on ---" there's a laugh, a pleasure of her jealousy. "Was just having a bit of fun -- I'm allowed that, ain't I? Little fun?"

open to: masc.

based on: this post.

she wants to be seen staring. maybe the look on her face is able to showcase enough disgust that the two of them had no choice but to go somewhere else. anywhere else. the last thing charity wanted to see was the two of them, off in their little word as if they were the only ones there. she didn’t care that the two were flirting, it bothered her that it had to be them. anyone with common sense ( and a working pair of eyes ) could see there were plenty of better options.

only .. its when they kissed did charity feel her stomach drop. even worse? those eyes flickered over in her direction, eyes meeting. staring at her the same way she’d been staring at them. without much of a reason, or even trying to think about why it bothered her so much, charity grabs the first bottle she can find— stealing a sip as she walked past them.

“ get a fucking a room, ” charity mutters when in ear shot, bottle coming up to her lips and going as far as to shove both of them out of her way.

[the-janitor-esc]

A few days ago, Intern Ziggy had an....incident and set Lana's spaces on fire; several people were injured and the space was charred badly. I should really check how repairs are going and figure out if the Center has a fire suppression system, Doctor.

If Lana is unable to help, Dr. Zero seems to be efficient with computer technologies...maybe Dr. Corvid also; both seem to stick to their spaces, so they're fairly easy to find.

{{ knocking at what he supposed was the janitorial closet (didn't know the direction). It has been like 15 minutes }}

{{ had a paper in hand and also a new chef hat. Seemed way too excited, even for his own good }}

Are you there???

*coming up the stairs from the sub-basement below and pausing to see someone on this floor* *approaching*

Do you require some help?

[jangofctts]

Really, Truly (Steven Grant (a hint of Marc Spector) x fem!reader)

Rated: Mature, Explicit 18+

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: !!spoilers!!, some fluff!!, smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, cum eating, vaginal fingering, finger sucking, slight praise kink, fucking in the workplace (lmk if I miss anything!)

a/n: im so sorry it’s not my best work um. anyway ENJOY ANYWAY

It’s been four months since you’ve first met Steven Grant.

Not that long in the grand scheme of things, but odd occurrences have a way of drawing people closer. You’d like to think so anyway. Your entire life is chockfull of oddities, far from normalcy—makes for interesting stories though. It’s only right that someone like Steven would wander into your peculiar state of life. 

No really, he did just…wander through your door one evening. Your fault for not locking it, but still. Spooked the fuck out of both of you, so much so that poor Steven thwacked his head into the door frame and nearly broke his nose. You baked him smiley face cupcakes that night, partially as an apology and as a shitty housewarming present. You’re a firm believer of neighbor solidarity, especially with places like this—tacky landlords and shitty amenities. It’s the least you could do for Steven. 

Sadly, you never were a stellar baker—half of them came out charred, and if they weren’t, the mess of melting frosting made the little cakes appear disgustingly malformed. It’s the thought that counts, right?  Steven didn’t seem too flabbergasted about the atrocities—sorta just teared up and mumbled his thanks. Poor guy.   

And that’s not the end of it. Turns out, you work at the same museum and at the same shitty gift shop. Made for an interesting bus ride—he accused you of stalking and tore out of the bus three stops early. Imagine his surprise upon finding you scanning crappy plastic Ennead dolls behind the counter an hour later. Dude nearly had a existential crisis right then and there.  

Things have settled since then. Sort of. Steven isn’t exactly the pinnacle of put together. Mismatched socks, wrinkled shirts and missing buttons, eye bags like two swatches of purple paint, odd nicks and bruises. Not that you’re any better—a scatterbrained insomniac, ex-grad student living paycheck to paycheck in an less than ideal apartment. Birds of a feather and all that, you suppose. He’s sweet though—never fails to give you a call each morning to ask if you’d like to walk together. Your only friend in these trying times.    

It’s why, when he goes missing every now and then, you don’t mind covering his shifts. Donna is none the wiser, or she doesn’t care, as long as someone’s manning the cash register.           

Which brings you to current time. Same as always, Steven calls you, you walk and take the bus to work. Very thrilling.  

As you both come to the top of the steps, you’re greeted by J.B.’s boots, propped up against the counter, engrossed in his phone as usual. Watching clips of otters dive for urchins and cracking them open with rocks, giggling each time they do so. Typical. Makes sense he’d like evil little creatures like that. “‘Ello, Ziggy,” he lifts his eyes, takes account of Steven and dips his head. “Scotty.” 

“Mate, it’s Steven,” he sighs, clearly distressed. You tug on his sleeve on pull him along. His head whips around, eyebrows furrowed as he throws up his hands. “I keep tellin’ everyone it’s Steven.”  

“J.B. still calls me Icky sometimes—or Sticky,” you pause and tap your chin. “That one makes sense though. I had jellybeans stuck in my hair that day.” 

A nickname’s nickname—all because you dressed like Ziggy Stardust once. You’d forgotten about your shift and had to rush to the museum from some upitty Oxford fuck’s halloween house party. You don’t know what’s worse—stuck behind the counter dressed as Ziggy Stardust or the giggling that followed from coworkers and guests alike. 

Whatever.             

“What on earth…why?” Steven exclaims, drawing you back into reality.  

“The jellybeans? Happens.” 

It’s just the way of things. Not the jellybeans thing…but J.B being J.B.. He’ll always be a dickwad and Donna will never bother to learn new hire’s names. It took her nearly a year to learn yours. As long as you get your paycheck, you’re all set. 

And so the shift goes on, dragging into the night and into inventory. You don’t mind this part so much—you don’t have to deal with screaming children and their exhausted parents forking over money for a plushie. Then again, Steven mostly does all the counting and scanning. You just sit on your stool, dig through the baskets and hand him the items—you’re not very good with numbers. It’s quicker this way. And it gives you an excuse to stare at with him without repercussion. 

God he’s fuckin’ gorgeous. Dark curls, tan skin, dreamy eyes and an adorable smile to boot.  

“Ziggy—”        

“Hm? Oh,” you straighten, gather a fistful of magnets and hand them to him. His lips quirk into a quick smile. “Sorry—did you brush your hair today?” 

Steven’s brows furrow slightly. He’s gotten used to your out of pocket observations and the odd questions that follow. You don’t really know why you do it—the words just sorta form and roll off your tongue faster than you can process. Whack shit is what it is. “I think so? Oh dear, does it look that bad, Zig?”

You shake your head and sort through more of the magnets, crinkling the plastic wrap around them. “No, just—I dunno. You had gel in it the last time I saw you. Didn’t know if you were trying something new.” 

Steven scratches his head and flattens the dark curls using an open palm. He chuckles. “Silly—I saw you yesterday! I think I’d know if I gelled me hair.”

“Not true,” you quip, dragging over the box of plush scarab beetles. They are quite cute. “I saw you last night—you asked if I had any change for the payphone outside.” 

Steven’s face morphs into a twisted mask of confusion. “I did? Bloody hell, I don’t remember that, Ziggy. I’m awfully sorry.” 

You shrug. “You sleepwalk, I think. We talk most nights—you always bring me donut holes when you come back.” 

Steven frowns, lovely brown eyes dropping to the scanner. The brief silence is filled with slow, methodical beeps and plastic wrapping, pinched between fingers. You don’t really care if he’s trying to hide something, you know plenty of people who do weird things in their sleep. Like you for example—you don’t sleep at all. “Odd. Thought you didn’t fancy donuts.” 

“I don’t,” you say. “But I do like throwing them at the pigeons—they’re making a nest! Ungrateful buggers, they don’t even pay rent.”            

“You are,” Steven says, bumping your shoulder, “exceedingly strange.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you scoff, throwing up your hands. You swat at his arm. “It’s war at this point—they keep pecking at my window with their weird little beaks. You ever see a baby pigeon? They look fucked up."   

“Maybe if you quit feeding them they’d leave, you nut.”

You purse your lips and hug a scarab to your chest. You’ve stolen about three of them, what’s another one? “Whatever. I hope your flat gets infested.” 

“I’d rather not have an infestation, thank you,” Steven sighs, rubbing at his tired eyes. He waves at another crate. “You mind fetching that one? One more and were done, yeah?” 

You groan and slide off your stool, wincing as your aching feet touch the ground. “Fine.” 

It’s far from fine, actually. 

Because, just as you plant your feet on the ground, you completely space on the mountain of boxes you haphazardly threw behind you earlier tonight. One step back and you’re fuckin’ done for. Your heel catches—you yelp as your stomach flips, succumbing to the mortifying feel of falling ass first. Steven—ever the sweetheart—startles and snatches your wrist. 

It’s too late though. The momentum takes him down with you.  

You wheeze as his weight smacks into you, crushing you against the linoleum tiles. Fuck, he’s heavier than he looks. Luckily, he’s slid his hand up to cradle the back of your head before it smacks against the floor, saving you a trip to the ER.

“Shit,” Steven breathes. He pushes himself up using his other hand, eyes quickly scanning your face for any injury. “You alright, yeah?”

You wouldn’t consider yourself a shy person, or easily embarrassed. However, you’re not immune to the very attractive man atop of you, pressed close enough that you could easily tilt your head and kiss him. You could pretend to shrug your feelings off—pretend that you don’t know that his smile is always a bit crooked, how he likes his tea, sugary and blonde. Or how he holds his hands to his chest and wrings his hands together when he’s nervous—the little scar on his cheek and the freckle above his eyebrow. You should choose ignorance. Heat floods your cheeks as you blink and grasp at words that refuse to form. You hurriedly nod, but make no move to wiggle away.     

He leans onto his elbow still trapped under your head and sweeps a stray hair off your forehead. Your breath catches. “You sure, love?”

Well, that’s new.

Yes, there’s always been some light flirting. Not enough to garner attention but like a breath to simmering embers. Steven has a shy heart, softened and bruised like an overripe peach, and you’re not one to jump blindly into something that could be. But here you are. Steven has tossed you this scrap of kindling, unexpected. Maybe as half a joke, half of something else, and the way he looks at you now whispers possibility. A question.    

“Steven?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I have a crush on you,” it’s an exhilarating moment. A grandiose high that could be kicked into a higher gear or plummet so sharply that your heart shatters as a casualty. Pure relief floods your veins as Steven smiles, one that reaches his eyes and crinkles the skin around them. 

“Really?”

“Really, truly,” you assure, leaning into his fingertips that scrape almost reverently across your cheeks. Impatient, you shoot your hands up, grab him by his cheeks and drag him close. Your lips meet, and yeah, your teeth bump into his but everything fades into hazy bliss, slots together like a missing puzzle piece. Two chaotic halves meshing to create the perfect storm, and you’re at the eye of it. Maybe it’ll leave devastation in it’s wake—you both have the tendency to walk on the wrong side of the street onto oncoming traffic. The ebb to the shore and the hurricane to the sky. A war that can be tipped tot the side by a single breath. You both moan as he parts his lips, tender as honey exploring the taste of your tongue. It’s sweet and addicting— 

His hand tangles into your hair, dragging you so impossibly close, hips slotting between your legs that fall open for him. God, he’s fucking perfect—belongs here with you like this. You get dizzy, pull away and fuck—he’s wrecked. Messy curls, teased by your clawing fingers stick up at odd angles, a rosy flush over his skin. You cup his cheek and he leans into your touch and plants a fleeting kiss over your palm.

His eyes snap wide open, fear crackling over his face. “Oh, fuck me—the surveillance cameras! Donna is gonna kill us for snogging over the merchandise!”

Steven stumbles into a kneeling position, gripping his hair at the roots and muttering curses and wild fears. You snicker and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You touch your hand over his forearm and he stills. “I know a place we could go—if you wanna continue…”

Steven rolls his tongue over his lips, mulling over your words. His eyes flick to the cameras above the counter, then back to you. Nervousness still lingers in his stiff shoulders and worrying teeth tearing into his lip, but he still nods. Albeit slowly. “You positive we won’t get caught?”

You smile, nod and maneuver yourself to your feet. You take his hand in yours and help him up. You don’t mind that they’re a little clammy. “I promise—it’s where I hide my snacks.” 

It’s a small storage room, down the hall and off to the left. It’s where the extra uniforms and random event supplies is held—unused and always abandoned after the museum closes. No one will come looking. 

“Nice little place. Very cozy—” you don’t let Steven finish, the minute the door snicks shut, you jump his bones. Desperate kisses, clawing at his lose clothes—you feel as though he’s set aflame and he’s the only cure.

You both end up on the floor again with you straddling his lap, his back pressed against the wall. The space is filled by little groans and soft whimpers of your name as his hands traverse up your back, settle on your hips, then move back to your face. Your own hands have made a home over his chest, shirt billowing open by your greedy need to touch his bare skin. He’s a little hesitant to touch you—you know he’d prefer a bed than some crappy storage closet but fuck—you need him.            

And so does he. You can feel the firm bulge pressing between your legs and the way his hips subtly twitch into you. And as the kisses devolve into a wet, lazy pace, his stubble burning the sensate skin of your lips, the ache between your legs becomes unbearable. Your underwear is soaked through and no doubt ruined. Sparks of raw energy, crackles through your abdomen as Steven’s hands fall around your hips, coming you to grind harder onto him. His forehead, humid with perspiration, rests on yours breath fanning over your lips, as you take a breather. 

Steven’s hand drift over the swell of your ass, giving the rounded globes a solicitous squeeze. “You have a nice bum—never got around to telling you that.”

“So do you,” you laugh, dragging your clothed center over the rock solid bulge in his pants. That needs to be fixed immediately. And then a wicked, debased thought slithers into your head.

With a smirk you wiggle out of his grip, and shimmy out of your pants and undies. You’re back before Steven can pout. You resettle over his lap, lean back a little and slowly, enough that its catches his attention, down the line of your body. His eyes are glued to your movements as you dip your hand between your legs. Your fingers spread your lower lips, gliding down easily from your clit to your aching center. A quiet moan bubbles past your lips as your hips rock against the pressure, a gentle back and forth pace meant to coat the digits in your wet heat. You move to circle your clit, drinking in the rapid-fire endorphins singing through your blood. You jump to tease your entrance, clenching in frustration at the loss of contact on your clit. Steven’s hands twitch around your hips, pink tongue flashing out to wet his lips—his flushed cheeks deepen into a rosy brown as you sink two of your fingers, up to the last knuckle, into yourself. 

Steven’s hands clamp around your hips, digging into the little divots on your back, as your head rolls back onto your shoulder. “Shit—you’re stunning.”

Your lips tilt into a lopsided grin. “I know.” 

He huffs at that, still fixed on your fingers that curl in and out of your slick center. Your lower half seizes up as you pull your fingers free from your cunt, glistening and soaked. Steven mutters a curse under his breathe, as you lift your hand higher for him to see. You smile turns wicked. “Open your mouth.”

Steven’s eyes snap to yours. “W-what?” 

“I said,” you purr sweetly as your bring your two fingers to the seam of his plush lips. You touch the pads of them over his bottom lip, delighted in the way a string of your arousal connects to his pouting mouth. “Open your mouth, Steven.” 

His jaw drops without question. Your fingers slide into his willing mouth, slotting over his warm tongue and the soft palette on the roof of his mouth. His moan vibrates through your finger. You shift, grinding your center into the tented front of Steven’s pants. His hips stutter. “Suck.” 

Steven’s eyes flutter as his tongue jumps to action. Wild electricity thrums through your being, impressed how well Steven’s tongue laves and suckles your digits clean—starved for a taste of you. Your breath catches as his dexterous tongue weaves between your fingers, hollows his cheeks and tentatively sucks. Once satisfied, a quiet pop follows the departure of your fingers from his plush mouth. The back of his head bumps the wall, eyes shut tight. “God—I’m going to ruin my trousers if you keep that up, y-yeah?” 

“Hot,” you allow him no respite. You swoop down to kiss him, open-mouthed and syrupy-sweet.Your tongue slides over his, tasting yourself on him—you moan into his mouth. You draw back, lick over his bottom lip and replace it with the sting of your teeth—earning a sharp jolt of Steven’s hips. However, as much as you’d like to witness Steven Grant cumming into his pants, your mind is set upon other activities. 

Decisively, you reach around and pry one of Steven’s hands from your hip. You eyes meet his, irises blown wide with arousal, heavy lidded and bewitched by your very smile.You guide Steven’s hand by the wrist, palm up, to your soaked center. His eyes widen, chin snapping to his chest to catch a better look the moment the pads of his fingers touch the outsides of your folds. “Oh, bless—you’re dripping, Ziggy.”                

You lead his hand to slot against you, his palm a perfect fit cupping your pussy. You roughly grind into his catatonic fingers, eliminating the difficulty of where to start. Fuck, his hands are huge—warm and thick too—your cunt clenches tight, waves of need swelling in your abdomen. You drop your hand guiding his, and sling it around his neck, drawing your lips to his stubbled jaw. You nip at the skin here. “C’mon, Steven…touch me.”           

Steven startles. “Right, right—sorry.”

You feel his throat bob as he swallows. He mutters encouragement to himself and draws in a sharp breath. The first pass of his fingers through you slick folds is crippling. The tip of his thumb slots directly beneath the hood of your clit, and wether that had been dumb luck or an aimed attack, the effects remain the same. You keen and crumple—a feeling akin to a punch to your diaphragm. And it only gets worse—or better—depending on how you look at it. He’s a Grade A, tease. 

And he doesn’t even know it.  

Steven’s mouth parts in awe, breath humid and hot over your exposed chest. His forehead presses into your collarbone to watch his fingers disappear through your swollen folds and remerge drenched. The pad of his middle finger slides lower, pressing gently against the tight muscles of your entrance. He rubs just the slightest bit to test that resistance, and then the length of it eases inside you, tentatively. You thighs twitch on their own volition, your teeth clenching together.

“Fuck, that feels good,” you hiss as he slides it in deeper. Your eyes roll back at the delicious pressure, tugging at his hair when his finger curls up, inspiring the surge of searing pleasure. Steven’s moan filters past his lips, jagged and wrecked as he very carefully moves the digit in and out. The raw sparks of heat threaten to catch flame and burn you alive as your core clenches around his thick finger.

“Yeah?” Steven pants. “Am I doing it proper?” 

You nod and bury your face into the crux of his neck. Your lips attach to the skin here, praising him with soft kisses and lazy passes of your tongue. He stiffens as you smirk and latch your teeth onto him. “More—please, Steven.”  

Steven readily agrees and eases a second finger inside you, letting you feel that delicious stretch as your cunt accommodates him. It’s tighter like this, a perfect angle that allows Steven’s fingers to catch the most sensitive part of you—that and the heel of his palm rocking against your clit. Fuck, you don’t have a chance—you can hear how wet you are for him in the tiny space, drenching his hand in your arousal.

Steven lifts his head, nuzzles into your neck, lips pressed sweetly against your ear. He nips the shell of cartilage and whimpers your name. Your high flares up bright behind your eyes, a hair-trigger reaction that makes everything from your toes and up tighten like a vice. One more thrust of his fingers and rock of his palm, and you’re done for—  

You cum onto his fingers with a choked cry, the edges of your vision fading into spotty blotches of black and white as your back arches. A network of open ended fuses exposed to a current and a body of water implode—sizzling and devastating. You nails harpoon into Steven’s shoulders as he continues to finger you through your orgasm, keeping you from toppling over as you jerk and shiver in his hold. 

You hear his disbelieving laugh above the fuzzy pleasure clouding your brain, marveling at the fact he’s just made you cum Your stomach drops as he pull his fingers free from you spasming hole, accidentally catching your hypersensitive clit. You flinch. “That was bloody wicked,” Steven praises, smoothing a hand up your spine. “Still with me, Ziggy?”

“Ahuh,” you wheeze, recollecting your scattered thoughts and whereabouts. You stamp lazy kisses up the line of his throat, over his check and eventually to his parted lips. You snake a hand between you, smirking as Steven’s breath catches in his chest when you grab at his covered cock. “Do you still want more?” 

“Fuck,” Steven stutters out, squeezing his eyes shut and then open as if to make sure this wasn’t just another one of his waking dreams. “I can never look at this broom closet the same.” 

You snicker and rolls his bottom lip between your teeth. “Our little secret now.” 

He laughs lowly and nods. “You are a terrible influence.” 

You plant a kiss on the corner of his and the touch of your palm slipping into his loose fitting pants. “I know.” 

Need bites at your insides, swells up sharper this time. It’s easy to convince Steven to tug his pants just far enough that his cock can be freed. Fuck, it’s just as gorgeous as the rest of him—flushed a rosy brown, thick and leaking at the wide tip. Steven throws his head bank and clenches his jaw as your curious fingers wrap around his searing flesh. You make a mental note of taking him into your mouth later—fuck he’d look so pretty fucking your mouth—

“Ziggy,” Steven moans, lightly touching the hand that’s jerking him off—slow and methodical. No rush despite the borrowed time. “Please—”  

“Alright, alright,” you sigh, adjusting yourself higher up his lap. One of your hands moves to anchor on his shoulder while the other threads through the thick locks at the back of his head. There’s a few tangles here—nothing that can’t be fixed by a simple comb through. You lift your hips up and tilt them just a bit, just enough to position the tip of his cock at your entrance. You both choke out a groan as you rock your wetness against his rigid length. Steven’s hands clamp down hard over your hips. And then, without much fuss, you bite his neck, reach for his cock to position him at your weeping entrance and slowly start to sink down on him.

A dark current of lust surges up your spine, wicked heat spilling forth and billowing past any comprehensive thought and turning it into mush. You shove your cunt the rest of the way down his thick cock, pressing him up so far up inside that Steven chokes next to your ear.  Fuck, he feels so fucking good from this angle—stretching and filling you in the way your body has so desperately craved since meeting him. You suck in a harsh breath in through your nose and unlatch your teeth from his now bruised skin.  

Steven’s hand shoots up to tangle in your hair, holding your face into the crook of his neck while you right as roll your hips up and clamp down around his. His cock drags deliciously out of your pussy and fuck—your mind crackles as you drop back down onto his lap.

“Oh, Christ,” Steven whines, his other hand squeezes your thigh hard enough to leave a mark.  “You f-feel fantastic.”

You whimper, biting the inside of your cheek head as the head of his cock is pushed up tight against the most sensitive part of you. Wildfire bursts in your lower belly and seeps through your cunt, your hips, and into your upper thighs. Fuckin’ shit—you roughly grind your hips into him as he pushes up, digging your nails into his arm and twisting it into his hair. 

“I wanted this to happen since forever,” you whisper, spiraling into madness from the aching bliss.  “That’s all I think about—fucking you.”

Steven holds you closer and snarls out a curse, his hips jerking up into yours with near bruising force.  “Shit—I—”

You keep going. 

“‘Specially over the counter—I get so bored here,” you moan, moving into his sharp thrusts.  The positioning doesn’t allow for him to do much besides roll his hips in short, stunted movements, but it’s just enough to build your pleasure until it’s bubbling to the top.  “Do you think about me, Stevie?”

“May-maybe,” he hiccups, but it’s way too embarrassed and worked up to be anything close to convincing.  “I-I shouldn’t. Not as much as I do.”

“And you never said anything?”  You pout, breathing hot air onto his neck and riding his cock slow and steady.  You can hear how fucking wet you are.  Your pussy is slick and hot and drenched as you roll your hips up and down on top of him. “I’m not that scary.”

“Shit—you’re—” Steven stammers, tugging a fistful of your hair and fucking up into you as best as he can in this position.  “Donna said—said romantic involvements with coworkers are against policy.”

You nip his earlobe. “I’m your neighbor first—checkmate.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” he says fondly, leading you into a brief kiss. 

Fuck, you like being on top of him like this—reckless and bold and skirting the edge of just plain stupid. Someone might come looking soon, but shit, you’re getting close again. You bite your lip, hips canting into a harder pace, delighted by his sweet moans and carnal need for you. He murmurs your name and you gasp, eyes squeezed shut and just trying to breathe through the flood of arousal that threatens too uproot your entire being.

“Shit, you feel good, Steven,” you say, carding your fingers through his hair. “S’good—keep going—that’s it.”

Steven makes a near pained, ragged gasp of a sound—one that sears right into your memory with no hope of ever shaking it. Everything pulls up hot and tight, settling low and as you start to grind down hard on him. Fuck, you’re almost there—

And then something shifts—you don’t know how to explain it really— a subtle change in the way he holds himself and draws his shoulders back. An air of confidence normally absent from Steven’s relatively meek nature. A wicked gleam that sparks behind those warm, brown eyes that always remind you of the countryside—endless summers and the honey-golden light of sunsets through one of those kaleidoscope sticks.      

You’re flipped so quickly that the world spins, leaving you dizzy and scrambling for a foothold. Damn your low iron. Your back slams into the tiled floor, his thick arms shoving up under your legs and positioning your hips over his thighs. And then he starts fucking you—really fucking you.

It’s fucking crippling. The new angle and brutal speed is like a chain reaction of powder kegs to a lighter. All you can do is dig your nails into his arms and sob for him, arching and blankly staring at the patchy cement ceiling, letting his hips collide roughly with yours as he fucks you down hard into the linoleum tiles—you’re gonna have bruises on your ass.

His mouth is at your neck as he mutters darkly against your throat, his clipped accent devolving into a near unfamiliar scrape. It could be a trick of the mind, and frankly you don’t care. You squeak as his hands dig into the flesh of your ass.  “Fuck, Ziggy—you like this?”

“I’m—” you gasp, eyes screwing up as your wrestle with words.  “Ye-yes.”

“You’re making me a fuckin’ mess, love,” he growls. “Did I make you this wet?”

He’s hard and throbbing, imbedding his claws into your very soul and dragging you though cloud nine. You’re ears start to ring—so fucking close to the edge and begging for him to finish you off. 

“You’re heaven,” he snarls. He drops to his elbow, shifting his weight so he can reach between your legs. You cry and jolt into his fingers as the slip between your lips and easily finds your swollen clit. 

Your lungs tighten to the point of limiting your breaths to patchy gasps.  “Steven—close.”

He murmurs your name and rubs tight circles over your clit, pounding directly where you need him too. Your eyes roll back, spine suddenly goes rigid.

“Fuck—I’m cumming,” you whine, frantic and rushed, breathless as you claw at his shirt and exposed chest.  Everything pulls up sharp and burning, your cunt squeezing around his cock like a vice.  “Steven—”

“Fuck, yes—” he gasps, “—shit, let me f-feel you—”

Steven keeps babbling, but it’s all fluff by this point. Your pulse roars in your ears, body locking down so fucking tight around him hat you’re afraid something might snap. Steven keeps fucking you as your orgasm rips through you with such force that your voice warbles, the blaze of white hot bliss picking you apart stitch by stitch. Steven rubs your clit, pines your hips with his own and pistons inside of you—throwing you to a raw plane of explosive pleasure. His head drops to your shoulder, muttering filthy praise you’d never think someone like Steven would ever think to say—

You cry his name, repeating it over and over like a mantra, breathlessly in time with his ruthless thrusts. One more roll of his hips and pass oof his fingers and you’re gone. Your hand clenches around his hair as sparks of blurry white alight behind your eyelids, back arching off the floor and into his chest. Steven fucks you through your orgasm, even as you squirm and shake in his firm hold. Ecstasy implodes behind your eyelids as heat, hotter than wildfire spreads from your center all the way up your stomach and down to your toes. 

“Ziggy,” he breathes, “almost there—”

Three more rough, bruising thrusts, and he’s cumming inside you, painting your insides with his warm spend. His sweet, gravelly moan echoes in the small space and Jesus Christ—you’re dizzy. He pants against your neck as he leans his full weight over you, arms snaking under your back to hold you close. You can feel his heart like this, thrumming wildly in his chest. You thread your fingers through his hair, gently carding through the frazzled knots of your frantic pulling. The silence that follows swells with petrichor and flower petals that glow white in the pale light of moon—he smells like old books and Irish Spring—a new comfort.   

“Steven?” 

“Hm.”

“Can you hand me that bag of crisps—yeah, right by that shelf.”         

What’s better than this? Spicy crisps and orgasms. Though, hopefully next time you do this, it’s on a bed.  

[linnaealyn]

Last bit of misc pieces from across this year. Lets see, we’ve got Shoolk in Noah’s jacket, Pyra from earlier this year (I love the back of her design), DE repaint of Alvis from ‘19, Akhos just bc I felt like it, Ziggy bc I started a face plane study and it turned into a char I’d been obsessing over despite having very little context to his character yet, The Outsider from early this year done to study his bone structure, Kenshin after watching last year’s YT live action RK bts vids, and Alucard and Maria bc the NyanCave got me into a Castlevania mood in Oct.

oh yeah, and featuring a ーdark cruel destiny of godー check-in.