#i felt that i needed to draw them together

[fraugwinska]

I'm dying to see you write Alastor opening up to Reader about his mom, maybe a little angst and lots of fluff? (- v -)''

WE NEED THAT MOMMAS BOY GETTING SOME COMFORT!

Finally Anon, I found the strengh to write this. Sorry it took so long - I hope it was worth the wait! Next story will be less sad, I promise! :'< But I think we can all find some love for our Mommas Boy today, right? (Prepare your handkerchiefs, fellas...)

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Mother O'Mine

Not the kitchen. Not the lobby. Not the bar. Not the radio tower. Not his room.

You sighed and stilled for a moment, thinking of a place where he could've gone.

If Angel had just shut his damn mouth. Mother's day was a shit day for everyone in the hotel. You, who never knew a mother, raising yourself in the farce that had been the foster care system, rued the day. Charlie was still in denial about her mothers blatant absence and ignorance, Husk melancholic and tense at the memory of seeing his mother being exterminated shortly after reuniting with her in hell, and Vaggie bitterly wanted to ignore the holiday all together, feeling as though she would be betraying the mother she could no longer reach in heaven as a fallen angel.

Angel had been pissing them all off by breakfast, obnoxiously mocking their various reasons of why this day felt even heavier than others in hell. You knew it was his own way of coping with his mommy issues - something he didn't even talk about with Husk, as far as you knew, but he bordered on being not only menacing, but outright cruel.

Alastor had listened to his rambling stoically, flipping eggs while drinking his coffee with not much more than an annoyed twitch in his brow, but then the spider made the gruesome mistake to mention her.

Alastor's mom.

"What, 'ya think any of 'ya mothers could even look at 'ya without punchin' themselves? Come on, look me in the eyes and tell me Bambi's mommy wouldn't be fuckin' disappointed by what her little fawn has become... Can ya really see a sweet southern lady all happy, lovin', and coddling ol' murder-clown Alas..."

The green explosion came faster than you could blink. You were frozen in place, only staring in fear and worry when Angel landed unceremoniously into the table with the rest of the breakfast, the other residents as shocked and dazed as you were, while the radio static and greenish-black shadows seeped away from Alastor who then swiftly made his way out without a word, holding his staff while his tendrils bristled dangerously.

Alastor had vanished and the only thought coming to your mind - after giving a cursing, groaning Angel a righteous 'You fucking deserved that'-speech - was that you needed to find him before the princess did to make sure the demon had calmed enough not to finally lose it and maul her to pieces. Charlie meant well, but she didn't know. No one did know, except for you, and even you only knew so much.

It's not like it had been an elaborate talk. It just happened, after a nightmare that made him tear up in a mixture of rage and sorrow, a bad memory that had made his shadow basically drag you, half asleep still, from your bed to his in the middle of the night. Why you? You weren't so sure. Alastor usually preferred your company more than the others just because you were the most neutral, sane person in the hotel. Some would even say impassive. An introvert who didn't draw attention, silent and observing. But not once had his shadow ever acted up around you, and while it wasn't overly friendly with anyone, it seemed to watch mostly you with curious glances and interested hisses. When you had finally woken up enough to comprehend your situation, you were sprawled across Alastors stomach with his arms wound so tightly around you you struggled to breathe, strained mumbled words pressed through gritted teeth into your nightgown.

"Mother... I'm sorry... Oh mother..."

He had been sobbing into your shoulders and and shaking against your chest while he let go of a strange anger and grief he never seemed to get rid of while you had, confused but worried, whispered words of comfort in a hushed, soothing voice until you both dozed back to sleep. Morning broke, and when you opened your eyes again, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, not able to look you in the eyes. He had thanked you, gruffly and with an unsteady voice that made your heart ache, before offering his hand to teleport you back to your room. As far as you were concerned, the weirdest of it was that you felt him caress the palm of your hand with his thumb, barely audible as he mumbled that "that should have never have happened, and we shall never speak of it again." - he was usually a gentleman, and he never touched you this intimately before - but, to him, it was obviously a humiliating and horrible thing that you had witnessed him like that.

And you didn't speak of it. No one knew, and you intended to keep it that way. It was a moment you shared and fragile trust was on the table. You would take it to your second grave, along with all those feelings that had come with it, to prevent it from breaking.

Back to the present, you sighed and massaged the bridge of your nose. You had checked all the obvious places that crossed your mind, so maybe, you should start to look at the not-so-obvious ones... Maybe some place you knew was connected to... His mom...

A sudden pang hit you as you got an idea of where he might be hiding.

"Is this seat taken?"

The roof of the hotel was usually restricted from access, due to the general instability and collapse-prone architecture it presented, but you and (after an admittedly awkward encounter on a hot day that had involved you in a two-pieced swimsuit sunbathing and a very flustered Alastor with a book in one and a severed hand on a plate in the other hand) the radio demon knew about a small nook between the roof's overhead window frames and the hotel's ventilation system, hidden by the growing shadow of the radio tower where no one else ever came looking. A hideout, a place to go when you wanted undisturbed solitude. You had quickly left the place, apologizing for intruding a space that Alastor had apparently already claimed for himself (explaining the existence of the lounge chair you've so rudely used), but soon enough he discreetly invited you back, second chair added, to sit in silence together every once in a while, as long as you swore secrecy. It became a place of comfort for both of you, a retreat when life in the hotel got too stressful.

Alastor's reaction to seeing you was a quickly stifled hum before going back to staring stubbornly at the horizon. He looked dejected, and if you would not have known him so well, you wouldn't have noticed the trembling twitch of his ears nor the way his claw tapped impatiently against his knee, his shadow balled in on itself while hovering at the edge of the small roof.

It looked like he was staring straight through the distant buildings of the pentagram to the faintly illuminated orb that was heaven next to hells own sun, while also refusing to acknowledge you or the world around him at all. His smile had slipped into an emotionless line of pursed lips.

"That depends" he mused quietly. "Are you here to make me return to that insolent arachnid and attempt a 'healing' conversation?"

"I think you know I know that I couldn't even if i wanted to." You tried a weak smile.

Alastor briefly met your eyes at that, giving away that, despite his aloof act, your comment got his attention and he considered it before turning back to the horizon, the tense posture relaxing somewhat. A brief silence passed until he hummed an affirmative noise. "Then you may sit, darling."

After sitting down, minutes passed without a word said. The distant roar of the bustling traffic carried the muffled sounds of hell with the usual maelstrom of catcalling, profanities and general noises of mayhem to you, while you fought to keep a certain twitch in your hands as you counted the beats of his heels clicking on the tiles.

"You must know... my mother was a rare light in a world of filth." he declared suddenly into the silence. "An honest, virtuous soul of beauty and strength." He said it slowly and, surprisingly, completely unamused, the clacking of his shoes ceasing at once. He stared at the city in contempt, hands clasped together and resting on his legs to hold back a tremble that you caught anyway.

"She, unlike me, had not a spec of corruption in her bones. Wherever she found the warmth and love she shared with me, I cannot fathom. But she did. I may have been mocked and shunned by the world, the bastard child of a black woman and a white man, but I always had her as my home to return to.” The knuckles on his hands turned white. “But the cruelty of life and the disgusting human that was my father, the unbearable excuse of a man, killed her before I was grown enough to help. Before I was old enough to kill that monster myself." He spat the words, claws digging deeper until a faint trickle of blood could be seen. "I remedied that circumstance, twice to be exact, although it couldn't make up for what was lost. Nothing I did to him could make up for it..." his smile widened bitterly as his face twitched, recalling a fond, yet regretful memory. "… and believe me, I tried. But it was cathartic nonetheless, and quite educational... for my further career."

You stayed quiet and studied his profile, patiently waiting for him to continue talking. It was painfully obvious how hard it was for him to speak about actual feelings, with his tense grin and his white knuckles dripping with crimson blood.

"I knew, of course, where I would end up after my demise, and that I would never be able to see her again. Because I was sure she'd end up in heaven, like the saint she was. Is." He cleared his throat, attempting to appear dismissive, but you saw it. The sadness, the longing, the resignation, and it shattered your heart.

"Alastor...", you knew he hated physical touch, but your hand reached out on its own, to stop his hands from ripping themselves apart. He stiffened at the contact, but said nothing.

"Don't tell me you took what Angel said to heart..."

"How could my mother love me after what I've become after her death?"

His tone was monotonous, but his hands trembled under your fingers. He refused to look at you, but you saw his eyes, glazed with wetness that threatened to turn into actual tears. How he could still smile was beyond you, you had your theories on that, but that wasn't important right now. What mattered was that he was hurting, and that fact broke your heart. You never knew motherly love, how could you really miss something you never really knew? But Alastor did, and it had been ripped from him in the must cruel way, the impact of it so hard it made him even question the very foundation it was built upon.

You moved your hand from his to cup his cheek and turn his face to yours. His expression was blank, and if it weren't for the tight grin and the eyes filled with an unspeakable anguish, it would have been an emotionless stare.

"Alastor, do you know the poem Mother O'Mine?"

"I'm afraid the memory of it fails me, darling."

"Then, I'll recite it for you."

"Why?"

You gave him a sad smile.

"Because I want to."

He eyed you with stunned curiosity as you reached into your pocket, glad for once for your mostly useless power. You've only told Husk about it, in one of your late nights where everyone else was asleep aside him and your insomnia got the better of you, drunk and as a bargaining chip for one last gin tonic.

The blank piece of paper was a bit crumpled, but it would do. You started to fold it while you spoke, your voice sounded soft and almost like a spell.

"If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"

Your fingers moved with a solemn purpose as you folded the paper this way and that, a skill you perfected out of boredom over the years, the edges turning into an elegant shape, the poem coming from your mouth like a song. Alastor watched your hands move in a trance, not sure what you were doing, but too focused on the faint glow of purple around them to ask.

"If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"

There in your hand, sat a little origami bird. It wasn't anything special, maybe a traditional crane would have been better, more elegant, but you were out of practice and for what you intended to do it would work either way. Carefully you reached out, silently demanding for one of Alastor's hands that were still digging into each other. He didn't protest, and slowly raised it to give his hand to you. The tips of his claws were covered in a thin, fresh layer of his own blood, and his skin was warm and slightly clammy. You put the little paper bird on his palm, a speck of his blood staining the bottom of the pristine white paper, and closed his fingers around it, holding it in both of yours.

"If I were damned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine."

His enclosed hand in your own was encased in purple light, with wide eyes he followed the soft tugs of your fingers and opened his hand. The little paper bird flapped it's wings on his flat palm, looking at him for a heartbeat before taking off and flew in a singular circle around his head before it headed into hells deep red sky, towards the bright heavenly sphere. You watched it until it vanished completely from view, hoping there was a possibility that maybe, with a bit of luck, it would find it's way to her.

"This, Alastor, is what a real mother is. She loves you, I'm sure of it. Always has and always will."

Tears fell silently on his lap, a strangled, coarse breath escaping him. Without warning, he pulled you from your chair into him, holding you pressed close to him. Just like in the night of his nightmare, his face was buried in your chest, arms wound tightly around you in a hurting embrace and shoulders trembling with suppressed grief. His grip was bordering on painful, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying one of your hands in his hair, stroking gently while you let him quietly cry into your shoulder, not caring that the wetness of his tears was soaking through the fabric of your shirt. You felt his heart beating rapidly, his pulse erratic and his breathing fast.

"I miss her. Oh, how I miss her."

You held him tighter.

"I know, Al... I know."

You didn't know how long you two stayed like this, him in your arms and crying silently while you tried your best to comfort him, but you didn't care. As far as you were concerned, you would stay here forever if it only meant to lift this weight for a little while from his shoulders.

It took him some time, but eventually his breathing evened out, and he calmed down, his hold becoming less desperate and more... affectionate. You didn't realize it at first, but he had moved, his head resting under your chin and his forehead leaning against the hollow of your throat, his antlers slightly poking the thin skin. It felt strangely intimate, and you wondered if he was aware of what he was doing, but the moment he moved to get up and leave, you knew the spell was broken. He didn't let go of you entirely, but instead helped you to stand up and held your hand, his gaze firmly planted to the ground, avoiding your eyes.

"Darling, I..."

"Don't worry, Alastor. Although I'm glad I was able to be here when it happened... we shall never speak of this again."

You could feel his hesitation, a strange nervousness radiating from him. His shadow hovered next to him, a hand reaching out towards your face. You smiled at it, and, just for a brief moment, allowed yourself to lean into it's warm, buzzing touch as it caressed your cheek, before you turned and made your way back inside without a glance back to the sudden sound of a longing hum.

[zordanna]

𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓮

A fluffy fic inspired from this old drawing I did🍃

English is not my first language and I hate writing so don’t expect too much. It’s just a small scene where Sebastian realises he’s in love with my MC, you can imagine yours there too of course! I ain’t stopping you🫡 enjoy I guess?

Sebastian yawned softly as he kept silently reading his history of magic notes while sitting on the carpet and resting his back on the couch, Eleonora was next to him laying fully on it while reading the chapter trying really hard to not fall asleep.

“Ugh I swear I’m failing this time”

She mumbled while flipping pages. Sebastian rolled his eyes and spoke back with annoyance.

“You literally have the highest grades of all the students in our class, shut up-”

Eleonora huffed and gave him a soft nudge with her knee in response.

“Just because the competition prefers wandering in the restricted section more than studying actual subjects. You know- instead of  forbidden ones”

Sebastian groaned and rested his head on the couch seat cushion to look at her better.

“You are a pain in the ass.” He breathed out glancing back at his notes pretending to ignore her.

“The feeling is mutual”

She ruffled his brown curls gaining a soft laugh from him , the boy rested one cheek on the  cushion and gazed at her while his notes ended up spread around the intricated embodied carpet of Russel  living room. Sebastian  glanced at the book and got an idea.

“I can read it for you, if you want, so we both learn something at least”

His proposal sounded quite nice to Eleonora, she gave him the book and set herself comfortable as he cleared his throat. He started reading and he could almost feel her gaze caressing his skin, Sebastian didn’t know how he managed to say the words correctly without fumbling while having that lovely pair of blue eyes staring at him, the warmth of her presence, her sweet scent of lavender and soap pervading his nostrils…Merlin help him!

On the other side Eleonora’s eyes were looking at his freckles, she always thought they looked like a starry sky , sometimes she would find full constellations in them while stealing glances at her friend’s features. She  glanced  at his lashes, was it even legal to have them so long and soft? The way they fluttered while he was  reading, the way the sun was making them shine with a warm orange shade. She was mesmerised. That’s for sure. The words sounded like a sweet lullaby rather than an actual lecture on how their ancestors channeled magic trough the years, her eyes felt heavy and her body a little too relaxed. 

Maybe if she closed her eyes just for a second…yeah that should do it.

Sebastian was reading the last paragraph when he heard  soft snoring coming from his right side ,he turned his head a little to check on Eleonora and a warm smile formed on his lips as he realised she had fallen asleep. He closed the book putting it away before adjusting himself leaning closer to the sleeping girl. He rested his elbow on the couch cushion careful to not disturb her rest, as usual Eleonora needed her afternoon nap.

Memories of their third year flashed in his mind, rainy afternoons spent napping all together on the same couch down in the undercroft between a mess of books and unfinished candies. Anne was still…well Anne. No curse, no pain just Anne, sleeping peacefully while her tiny head would rest on Ominis shoulder as he was  nestled up almost like a cat. Eleonora’s long blonde hair would tickle his nose as he often found himself using her soft curls as a pillow. They always smelled so good it wasn’t his fault they felt so comfy.

Instinctively Sebastian brushed off some of her blonde strands that were framing her face, very carefully as if she was made of porcelain. Her long blonde curls that once were left wild and free were now tied up in that blue ribbon he gifted her almost two years ago.

“You keep wearing it all the time mh?”

He mumbled softly more to himself than to her. The soft blue satin fabric was a bit smudged near the knot after years of wearing it every day, that’s what happens with the things you love most isn’t it? They change. 

Sebastian always questioned why she would refuse to buy another one, a prettier one maybe made from the most expensive silk with embodied details but she always said that one was just perfect. She loved it.

And he loved how beautiful she looked with it. He loved the way it always made her eyes stand out matching their colour, he loved how it swayed like a swallowtail when she would rush around the hallways late for classes trying to not trip on other students. Swallows are a sign of hope and freedom, he was certain that if she had to be an animal she would be one of them. She was always there trying to see the good side of everything, which in his darker days was both infuriating and yet comforting. It was reassuring  having her slapping some sense in his thick skull sometimes, he couldn’t deny it.

He also loved that, her scolding tone, her stubbornness and resolution whenever he was acting like a complete ass. He loved the way she would ruffle his hair to annoy him, he loved how her soft hands were making him feel butterflies flying around his stomach every damn time…

Sebastian’s chocolate brown eyes were fixed on Eleonora’s delicate face as the sudden realisation hit him like a whole bombarda in his chest.

He was falling in love. No. He was in love. Utterly. Undeniably in love. 

He didn’t realise his face was few centimetres away from hers till now, his lips dangerously close to hers. Before doing something stupid and reckless he pulled away slightly and took a moment to gain his composure, his eyes wandered around the luxurious living room of her family’s manor, the paintings of the Russels were almost staring at him, judging him with their cold gaze.

Who was he trying to fool? He was nobody compared to her family, an orphan living in a cottage with his grumpy uncle, it would never be fair to her. Knowing her parents Eleonora had probably her life planned since day one, as her older sister Ofelia once told him they lived in a golden cage with all comforts but still a cage. It was all doomed from the start so- for now it was better to suppress those feelings. To pretend they never had been there.

For now having her friendship was more than he could hope for, Sebastian looked at the big wood carved clock and checked the time, it was getting pretty late, he sighed and with a soft spoken tone called for her.

“Hey…Birdie”

The world would never want them together, that’s what he was telling himself, yet when he saw those blue eyes and that warm sleepy smile greeting him Sebastian thought that the world could burn or destroy itself in that exact moment.

The world would know Lady Eleonora Russel but Birdie. Birdie was just for him and that was all he needed.

“Birdie? What am I a chicken?”

Eleonora said with a snort while sitting up and stretching a bit letting a yawn escape her lips.

“No more like a goose.”

Sebastian retorted with a cheeky grin. She had no idea of what passed by his mind all the short time she was asleep.

“Ouch- did I snore loud?”

“Terribly. I mistaken you for a troll or something at some point.”

Eleonora laughed at  the statement and crossed her arms in a proud stance. 

“Was I annoying you?”

“Terribly.” Sebastian said faking an exasperated sigh.

“Good. I can consider my mission accomplished then”

She added with a chuckle while they both got up to walk towards the kitchen for stealing a snack or two. Luckily her parents wouldn’t be back till next early morning considering their habit to attend balls and ceremonies  maintaining their high social status connections. That was a relief for the two of them but also for the servitude. The house elves were quite fond of Eleonora, a true ray of sunshine in that toxic household.

The afternoon passed by with their usual playful bantering like any other. It was better pretending nothing happened for Sebastian, it was for the best really.

Was it? Only time would tell. For now they were just fifteen, sitting on the kitchen counter munching a stolen slice of lemon tart while yapping about how they were both convinced Professor Garlick was hiding “special plants” somewhere in the greenhouse. 

It was a normal  spring afternoon during the end of the 19th century.

Flowers were blooming , birds were chirping and the air smelled like clean laundry and soap.

Winter was just a distant thought, none of them could ever imagine how everything  would irreversibly change in few months.

Moments like these would be soon turned into distant faded happy memories but for now…it was all that mattered.

[alllgator-blood]

I have ten billion WIP sketches I need to finish, but for some reason I stayed up from 9 PM to 4 AM conceptualizing, making patterns, sewing, painting and applying makeup on this stupid fucking felt squid......the detailing needs to be cleaned up cause there's only one coat of paint so far, but he's pretty much done

my neighbors probably think I'm insane because I was running around the yard clenching this toy kallamar in a death grip and flying him around like an airplane/putting him in the barbecue/poking him with a stick. I want to tie him to a string and recreate the opening of napoleon dynamite >:) ALSO I MADE HIM SMOKE OUT OF A STUPID CRYSTAL PIPE BUT PLEASE DON'T ACTUALLY USE THOSE, THEY ARE SUPER TOXIC LMAO MINE IS FOR DECORATION

I don't have any process pics because I had tunnel vision autism style and forgot the rest of the universe existed while I was working on him. BUT if you're curious I'll ramble below the cut

Okay I am not a seamstress by any means. I've sewn my entire life but very, very infrequently. I've done plushies, clothes, cosplays, fursuits, accessories, etc. but I only do one like once a year, so while I planned to make all 5 bishops, I'm not really sure I'll get them all done. The material cost was like 20 bucks tops so I'm not too upset if I don't finish them. I AT LEAST WANT TO GET SHAMURA OR HEKET DONE.

here is the concept sketch ft. heket's toes and shamura's fingers. I decided to do his pre-schism version so I could fit him with jewelry! I did him first because like I said I sew infrequently and don't know wtf I'm doing, everyone else seemed a lot more complicated.

So I basically just traced this drawing on a printer paper-sized canvas in SAI, and guesstimated how everything would look in a 3D space. His head is four pieces, one triangle identical to the one in the picture, two wide triangles that are sewn together in the back, and a circle for his chin. You can't really see it in any of the pics but he's literally like a black cylindrical stick with little tentacles sewn on where his mantle connects to his cloak. The leg tentacles are one piece of felt that look like tassels, where they're connected by a rectangle but branch off into individual pieces. He can't stand up very well, so his cape keeps him up (that's gonna be an issue for every other bishop too except heket cause she's gonna be ROUND). Mostly everything like the crown, cloak, head, etc. are cones so I just had to make a lot of wide triangles.

For the details, I just used acrylic paint that was watered down so he's not especially crunchy, and for the blush tone I used a makeup palette my mom bought me 10 years ago in hopes I'd get in touch with my "feminine side", but I grew up into a nonbinary butch lesbian so OOPS. Kallamar looks better with makeup than me anyway. I'm kinda sad I couldn't get his freckles as lopsided as I draw them but it probably looks better in plush form to have them even anyway....

I could just post the pattern so I don't have to explain this but 1. I am mentally ill about the thought of my kallamar being in someone else's house and 2. the original pattern had to be tweaked while I was working on him so the final pattern straight up doesn't exist, I winged it the whole time

OH and the jewelry is just scrap pieces I had laying around, I might repaint it all to be gold instead of silver + bronze. I used 20g aluminum wire for his armlet thing, jumper rings for his earrings + ring (+ a diamond dot from my mom's kits for the gem) and chain for the bracelet. I made him an amulet as well but it felt like overkill so I took it off. I'm probably gonna make him a plague doctor mask and medicine bag sometime because I think about nurse kallamar more than I probably should :') I've already sewn one as a prop for a toy raven before so it shouldn't be too hard

[sturnslcver]

enemy! chris where he absolutely breaks down reader to where she has no motivation to do anything anymore and he notices n begins to feel bad

ੈ✩‧₊˚ expiated favours ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨

— chris sturniolo x fem reader —

— warnings, fluff, blurb, crying

you shot chris a fond smile, proud of the meal you’d just prepared for him. you gently set it on the edge of his desk. he didn’t bother looking away from the screen occupying him as you cracked open a can of pepsi. “here” you muttered quietly, scooting it toward him. you lingered beside him for a split second hoping he might acknowledge or thank you. he didn’t. you gently shut the door on your way out to the living room.

almost immediately after you’d plopped down on the couch, chris had emerged from his room. “you didn’t put enough ice” he grumbled. “sorry” you shrugged. he slammed his glass against the counter. “so are you gonna get the ice?” you glanced at him and exhaled a long breath before lifting yourself back to your feet to fulfill his request. he took a long sip, smacking his lips together. “better” he replied, heading back towards his room. he paused before continuing. “oh, start my clothes in the washer too. i forgot.” you scooped up the laundry basket and followed behind him to his room, dragging all the clothes from the floor and tossing them up into the basket.

your feet shuffled across the hallway back to the laundry closet. you were separating the color’s and whites when nick surfaced from his room. you delicately grasped his arm, gazing up at him. “can you finish this for me? i need to lay down.” nick obliged, of course seeing the black circles under your eye. you clawed at your hair, eager to finally get into some comfy clothes and hopefully get some sleep.

you were settled on your side, in bed facing the wall. just as you were nodding off, your door loudly unlatched. “did you finish my clothes?” you didn’t retort, your back still facing him. “you used a different detergent this time. i don’t like it.” he held up his shirt, inhaling the latest scent. “are you even listening?” he questioned. you reached for the nearest pillow, placing it directly onto your head. “i asked nick to finish the load.” he squinted his eyes as if it might help the noise coming from the pillow sound any less muffled.

you shot up and turned to face chris. “you know i don’t have to do these things for you. i just do it because i want too. i like doing things for you and you don’t show any appreciation or gratitude towards anything i do for you.” you voice gradually softened as you felt a lump forming in your throat. you hid your face in your hands and began to weep. “i’m tired, chris. i’m trying my best and it’s never enough.” you felt the bed sink in a little, peeking through your fingers. chris had his knee eased into the edge of the bed right beside you. he brought his hands up, drawing yours away from your face. he placed his hands lightly against your cheeks and used his thumbs to gingerly rub away your tears. he surveyed your glassy eyes for a moment, placing one of his hands on the back of your head and pulling you against his chest faintly. he clutched you into a warm embrace.

hesitating momentarily, you brought your arms around his back, rubbing up and down repeatedly, reciprocating his affection. your fingers trickled along chris’ spine. his chin lazed on top of your head. “don’t cry. i’m sorry. i do appreciate you and everything you do for me and it’s my fault for not making it more known to you.”he placed both of his hands to the side of your head and planted a soft kiss to your forehead. “how about you let me finally appreciate you, hm? ” “how?” you chuckled eagerly.

chris raised your legs back onto the bed and signaled you to rest your back up against the headboard. he climbed up onto the bed and slid toward the bottom, placing your feet in his lap. he reverently placed a warm kiss to your ankle and began to massage your foot. “feels nice” you beam up at him. he hummed contently. the both of you exchanged a playful glance and laughed. “just tell me when to stop” chris cooed.

— a/n: i wasn’t sure how to go about the whole enemy thing because i couldn’t come up with a creative enemy backstory or a decent reason as to why they would be “enemies” also this is pretty short but i hope u still enjoy!! pls keep submitting things guys :)

[existentialcrisis-9-5]

DCA Subnautica AU

Version #2 of the designs, including the bioluminescence! + fun tidbits on each of the goobers and a visual on Y/N!

Eclipse is up first!

Theirs was the first design I drew out in any detail (as shown in the crude MS Paint drawing), so it's the one that needed the most work. Even after making the more detailed version with the lights, I still ended up changing things as I got a better grasp on what direction I wanted to head in. Fun lore tidbit! Eclipse is a freak of nature and should not look like that! They're properly split down the middle between day and night. Also I messed it up in the drawing because I was tired when I made it, but they're also covered in scars and bite marks.

Sun !!

I did Sun next, and here I had a better idea for what I was going for. There were still a few problems with this design though, which got changed. This is also where I started drawing the pattern on the tail, which I felt looked weird in this picture. Fun tidbit! Sun has an inability to express his feelings in the appropriate fish mermaid way, leading to much confusion.

Moon !!

Moon was done last. Once again, I learned from this drawing and changed Moon's design to match, however Moon is the one that remains the most unchanged! I knew what I was going for by the time I got to him each time, so I guess that helped. Something I did alter, however, were some of the lights. I found that they either blended together too much or weren't as visible as I would have liked. Fun tidbit! This is pose actually based on a scene in one of the chapters. It was actually one of the earliest written scenes.

Y/N, my beloved <3

I did 2 versions of Y/N, one with longer hair and one with shorter. It was important for me, when writing the story, that I kept the person I'm imagining as vague as possible, with the only physical descriptions being "physically fit" and having a few scars (for plot reasons), so this is only for me and whatever drawings I do. As a result of trying to keep it vague, I ended up going with the shorter hair (though in the final reference I made it a bit longer than shown here). Fun tidbit! The green is because whenever I'm sketching, I have 4 colours I sketch in to differentiate parts of the picture (usually background vs foreground or different people), and green was the one I used here (red, blue and purple were taken, I'm sure you can understand why). It ended up sticking, since I didn't want to go with the orange that's on Ryley's suit in order to avoid possible confusion.

That's it for now! At some point, I'll post the full references for each of them, but until then, the next thing I post will probably be chapter 1!

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 6

Yay! Another Boy with a Bat! In this we have Steve and the rest of the seniors finding out if they graduate and Steve getting squicked at his own pool.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

****

Things began to improve between Steve and Nancy but Eddie was still keeping an eye on her. His hackles were up now, and he had no intentions of dropping them any time soon.

Steve was glad that swim season was up and that the basketball team had done so badly their losses far outweighed their wins. And while he was upset he wasn’t starting spring training with the baseball team, it was nice to spend his afternoons with Eddie.

He could see that Eddie was really struggling with his homework, but whenever Steve asked, his boyfriend would blow him off. He was fine. They would graduate together. Just Steve wait and see.

During that last free period of the day, Steve began work on his next comic. He kept it short like he did the other one. Just the part about the junkyard and the dogs. Maybe the next comic would deal with the tunnels, but not this one.

Steve sketched out the RV, changing it from the bus it actually was. He actually enjoying find out ways to hide the details of his experiences into the comic.

What was even better was that he was pretty sure it would even take the smartest members of the Party a couple of pages to figure it out. He had taken out his pen to start inking the page when he felt someone knock into his elbow just as he was about to put his pen to the paper.

He looked up to see a couple of members of the junior varsity team, walking past, snickering.

It had been awhile since he had been a target of someone’s bullying and wondered where the hell it had com from. The idiots were wearing their letterman jackets allowing Steve to read their names. Carver, McKinney, and a couple of others.

Steve shook his head. Billy was a bad influence on the team, and maybe now the coach would see that. Considering how badly they lost this season with the asshole as team captain.

He looked back up at the retreating backs of the juniors as they laughed and whispered insults about Steve as they made their way out of the library.

He knew all too well how they treat people like them, verses outsiders. And now that Steve had thrown his lot in willingly with the outsiders, the other members of the team were going to be trouble.

Billy could call them off, but Eddie’s status as drug dealer wouldn’t faze that lot. They were the church boys. The sanctimonious assholes who would be straight edgers if they liked the violence, but were too soft to get their hands actually dirty.

He looked down at his drawing and sighed. These assholes didn’t know what pain actually looked liked. Still in their ivory towers, looking down on the masses and turning up their noses.

Steve flicked back to an earlier page of the hero and his little brother walking down the railway tracks and ran his fingers over the two figures. He hadn’t colored it yet, but he knew the trucker hat would be red. For the bond the boys shared.

The bell rang and Steve gathered up his stuff. He shouldered his backpack. Just then there was a tap on his shoulder.

It was the librarian, Mrs. Locke.

“Next time, you’ll be meeting with Mr. Cole and handful of other students to know if you have the credits to graduate,” she said, handing him a paper with the information he would need.

“It’ll be here at the library,” she continued. “But be sure to get here in plenty of time because the tables will fill up fast.”

Steve nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Locke. I’ll try to get here as soon as I can.”

She nodded and let him go. Steve hefted his backpack again and made for the parking lot, a sense of dread pooling in his stomach.

****

Steve sat at the same table as Eddie, Janice and Marty. They all greeted him with quiet murmuring. The whole room vibrated with nervous tension. Mr. Cole was going to tell them their future and fuck if that wasn’t the most terrifying thing in their young lives.

Steve envied them.

For Eddie though, this was his second go round and that fear of failure radiating off the older teen in waves.

Mr. Cole walked into the library and whispered something to the librarian. She nodded curtly and walked back to her desk.

He sat on an empty table and pulled out three stacks of folders. A large stack of about twenty or so, a much smaller stack of about five, and a stack of two.

Eddie gulped and Steve took his hand under the table.

“Thank you all for being here,” Mr. Cole began. He hovered his hand over the first stack. “These are all of you who are graduating without a shadow of a doubt. You have the credits as of now to graduate. Congrats.” His hand moved over to the next pile. “This is those that as long as they pass their classes by May 15th, will graduate. But it is dependent on you passing those classes.” His hand landed on the final two folders.

“These two aren’t passing,” he continued grimly. “Do not pass go, do not collect your diploma. For those two, you have three options. Repeat your senior year. Take your GED that will at least be equal to a high school diploma. Or you flunk out of high school. Walk away from formal education for good.”

Steve stared at the second pile with a growing pit of dread pooling in his stomach.

“I will call each of you by name,” Mr. Cole said, “and will talk to you away from your peers. I’m not here to name and shame and if you really want to know you can wait until graduation.”

There was a little bit of grumbling, but mostly from the assholes no one liked anyway.

“Steve Harrington.”

Steve gave Eddie’s hand a squeeze and got up. He followed Mr. Cole to what the students called the Stacks. They weren’t really stacks of books, but it was a set of tables for study that were surrounded by bookshelves to make it secluded. Guys liked to take their girlfriends back here for a little alone time.

“Hey, Steve,” Mr. Cole greeted. “I was happy to see your grade climb back up after your concussion made them take a nose dive.”

Steve nodded, keeping his fingers crossed behind his back. “I tried as hard as I could.”

“Well it really paid off,” Mr. Cole said. “Because you have more than enough credits to graduate.”

Steve stared at him in shock as his guidance counselor handed him his file. He flipped through it and sure enough, he already had all the credits he needed. In fact, he could have graduated early if it wasn’t for Mrs. Hall.

“Thanks to you,” he breathed.

“They aren’t the best grades,” Mr. Cole admonished. “But they are good enough to get you across that stage.”

Steve nodded and handed the file back to him. He walked back to his table.

One by one all the kids were called and while there were happy kids and wailing tears, it was hard to tell the graduating from those that weren’t.

After everyone had been called and told that they could go home, the four of them sat at the table, waiting for everyone else to file out.

“Valedictorian!” Janice crowed. “I made it, baby!”

“I’m graduating too,” Marty said. “Barely. I just have to make sure I don’t fail Mrs. McDonald’s final and I’m good to go.”

“Eddie?” Steve asked instead of giving his own news. Because his didn’t matter. Not when his boyfriend, the best and brightest person Steve had ever met, (and yes that did include Nancy Wheeler) was curled up on himself, staring at the table.

“No, man,” Marty said, “not again...”

Eddie just nodded. “I was doing the work. I was turning it in. I thought the grades I was getting back were enough, but they weren’t.”

Steve wrapped his arms around him and just let Eddie’s tears soak into the collar of his shirt.

His poor beautiful Eddie. He wished he had done more to make sure he graduated.

But now it was too late.

****

Steve threw Eddie a pool party to make him feel better about not graduating again. Something that Steve really shouldn’t have done if he wanted to avoid the question.

“Come on, Stevie!” Eddie called from the side of the pool. “The water is fine. Stop being the babysitter for two seconds and enjoy your pool, babe.”

The kids still didn’t know they were a couple, but they had gotten used to the endearments that Eddie threw out on a regular basis. They all got nicknames and endearments. Max was Red, Dustin was Dusty, Lucas was Strider and so on. So they didn’t even bat an eyelash at his use of ‘babe’ to describe Steve.

Mike rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Steve never gets in the pool. If he wasn’t on the swim team, I would have had assumed that he can’t.”

Eddie got out of the pool and Steve’s eyes trailed down his torso, following each drop of water as they ran for his waistband. Eddie smirked as he got really close. Steve closed his eyes to block out the dirty thoughts that went off in his head like church bells, loud and deep.

Vaguely behind him he could hear Nancy hissing at Mike, but he couldn’t hear what she said over the rushing in his ears of the blood traveling southward the closer Eddie got. He gulped heavily. Eddie cupped Steve’s cheek tenderly and Steve leaned into the touch. He didn’t care who noticed their casual affection. He was starting to shake like a leaf and not just from the way his boyfriend looked like sex on legs, either.

Quietly as though it was a secret between them Eddie said, “Is this about the comic?”

Steve’s lips quivered as he nodded, his eyes still closed. “They all know except...” he waved vaguely at the Corroded Coffin boys.

“Do you want me to kill Mike?” Eddie asked with a grin.

Steve fought to tamp down on his answering smile, but it broke through anyway. “I think one death is enough.”

He paused with a frown and looked behind Eddie where apparently everyone had gathered. In that brief moment, their silence had made Steve’s answer as loud as if it had been had been a shout.

“Shit, man,” Mike mumbled. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped. “It’s not a big deal. I still swim. Just not here. And I act as lifeguard for everyone. It’s fine. Honest.”

Nancy chewed on her lip, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist.

Jeff winced. “Yeah, I think we all forgot that Barb vanished from here. Not that we forgot about her,” he added waving his hands at Nancy’s dark glare. “It’s just so easy to forget it impacted more people then you’d think.”

Nancy nodded and let herself be comforted by Jonathan.

Steve pushed Mike into the pool causing a large splash and suddenly the tension was gone. The laughter and fun returned. He breathed a sigh of relief and Eddie wrapped his arm around Steve’s waist.

He leaned in close, “You gonna be okay, babe?”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, I guess it’s good they know,” he said, indicating the Corroded Coffin boys. “So I don’t get freaked out and hurt someone.”

“You’d never,” Eddie soothed.

Steve smiled warmly at Eddie and Jonathan and Nancy shared a knowing smile. He bumped Eddie’s shoulder with his own.

“Where did you learn to swim?” Steve asked turning back to sit sit on his lounge chair.

Eddie grinned. “Wayne taught me the first time we went camping up at Lover’s Lake.”

He sat down in the V of Steve’s legs and lifted one so that it was on his lap.

“How old were you?” Steve asked, basking in the attention Eddie was giving him despite the two of them not being out to Steve’s ducklings.

Eddie hummed for a moment as he thought. “I guess I was about seven or eight. My dad was in jail for the first time and my mom needed the weekend to recoup after an especially long week at work. So Wayne offered to take me camping for the weekend. Back when was he was young, wild and free.”

Steve bumped him with his knee. “Which he doesn’t regret exchanging for you a second.”

Eddie blushed. “No, but with me it meant taking a responsibility he never planned. He could have found someone, settled down, had a family of his own. I could have had nieces or nephews if I hadn’t been dumped on his doorstep.”

Steve sat up and turned Eddie’s chin toward him. “And you would have been lost in the system and hurt far worse then if he hadn’t taken you in.”

Eddie smiled. “You just want Uncle Wayne all to yourself.”

Steve laughed. “You caught me!” He began to tickle Eddie’s sides, causing the other boy to jump and squeal.

“Fiend!” Eddie cried as he scrambled off the lounger to get away. He leapt to his feet and then grabbed the lounger and flipped it.

Steve let out a squawk of surprise and landed on the cement with a thud and a laugh.

Dustin swam over to Gareth, figuring him to be the least scary of Eddie’s friends and whispered. “Are they always like this?”

Gareth scoffed. “No.”

Dustin sighed. “Oh thank go–”

“Sometimes they’re worse,” Gareth bit out, before wading back into deeper waters.

Dustin looked over at the pair of them, cocking his head thoughtfully to the side. There was something more to their friendship, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. Then Max splashed him and suddenly the thought was gone.

****

As for why it doesn't bother Nancy? That's because it's not her pool. She can go home while the sun is still out. While Steve has to hear the lapping of the water day in and day out. Has to see it in the dead of night, like the night Barb disappeared.

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

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@birbsauce @acingthecounts @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @kultiras

[magiturge]

it’s 2 in the morning, why not..

as many hank thoughts as i can muster before i get too tired to type on my phone lalala this wont be all of it because i need diagrams for the one im rolling in my head

• they are a thief of a myriad of things whether it matters to them or not. a thief of other people’s lives, a thief of mundane belongings or a thief of body, it can be many things.

• pertaining to the thief of body idea, i like to believe that a large portion of his body did not originally belong to it. having died so many times and likely dying more times than we have seen on screen, i think his body being made up of stolen parts adds to the grizzly idea of a killing machine. and frankly, i doubt in the grand scheme it does not really matter to it. based on behaviors observed ingame, in cartoon and some questions answered during krinkels streams, i feel that functionality will override sentimentality, if any. if it works it works, if it wasn’t mine then oh well. it is now.

• blood type could either be AB+ or AB-, i haven’t decided what is funnier. being AB+ is convenient but nothing can be perfect.

• speaking of the amalgamation of parts, a thief of body, i think being made of many insignificant parts from those long passed will inevitably result in failings functionality wise that need to be accommodated for. maybe the heart doesn’t beat as well as it should, the pacemaker jumbling about with damaged nerves that scream to heal together and do something properly. damaged vessels and tissue making it difficult to perform some functions without aid.

• one of these being compression garments that aid in his ability to enact venous return due to damaged vessels not being able to maintain high enough blood pressure. sure, he will indeed work hard enough to have the support of skeletal muscle and the respiratory pump but i think there is definitely a possible issue regarding the valves and their ability to close in order to prevent back flow.

• may or may not have an artificial, shoddy pacemaker to aid in a steady depolarization of the heart in order to beat properly.

• may suffer from more bouts of referred pain than normal that lead to it on occasion having to be checked on due to what it may imply. referred pain is a phenomenon where an injury may be at one part of the body but is felt in a different part. believed to be due to interconnecting nerves, i think hank dealing with referred pain more than normal could be something. it may pose a dangerous threat to him due to his pain tolerance being higher and that it could possibly dismiss the pain in its arm or what is left of its jaw as something not important. you can decide if hank ignores it and pushes through or could take the precaution and recognize it could cause more of an issue to ignore it.

• due to all these parts not fitting together in a pleasing manner, i like to reflect that slightly in my design when drawing it with its clothes on. if you saw that one small note i made on a doodle, you’d see that i made it important to say that asymmetry is important for when i draw them. while i’m not the best at anatomy i want to reflect the unevenness of his body somehow, in such a way you could pass it off as just an odd fashion choice.

• another choice when drawing is when drawing the hands atleast in grunt form, i try not to keep the tips of the fingers even. i feel that their nails come in a variety of bruised shades from fighting, some are chipped, some are blooming red and purple underneath and maybe one is just plain gone with tender skin beneath it doesn’t really matter to it fortunately. this is why in some doodles hank may have full set of claws, mixmatch or none.

• zzz zz..

ouh im tired now lala lala zz

[muffinsouffle]

Silly picture of a ancient monkey with his adopted children 😌

I hope you liked this post and have a wonderful day 💖

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

its 2am im posting the friend i made for Derry since they looked lonely. they're partners in crime except not bc Derry is too sleepy to participate past the idea stage

jesterly is not their real name 💅 their pronouns are whatever is funniest in the moment 💅 also i would punch them in the face if given the chance and they would deserve it

[gummy-sharks666]

BOYS, BOYS, BOYS

[louwhose]

Happy Pi Day! Or... is it pie day? White day?

Whatever, today is something and I'm celebrating whatever it is with this ship I'm far too obsessed with for how little screentime they have.

[toxiccaves]

<3

[carnethyne]

part 2 of their first year shenanigans

Stop stinking up the place!

[fumiko-matsubara]

Stripes and iced coffee ❄☕

[forestofsprites]

and if i start talking about larry trainor & castiel angel of the lord and meg masters (demon) & rita farr and dean winchester & cliff steele and dorothy & jack of doom patrol renown

[glasseswearingrabbitdetective]

Ofc my hyperfixation(?) leads to wanting to draw her so I looked up references and… 😶 the gap…. Pg-13 in America vs banned in Australia fejivefkjfjer

Update; its 3am but ,,, I did that glkas little doodle