#it's. it's not supposed to be bright yellow huh

[l4ndonorizz]

painting stream gone wrong / lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: fred again... - just stand there

summary: what starts as a simple paint job quickly turns into a paint war, a kiss, and a live-streamed moment neither of you expected… especially not in front of thousands of fans

wc: 1.1k

The plan was innocent enough. Lando had convinced you to help him paint an accent wall in his apartment, making it seem like a fun project for the night. But of course, being Lando, he had another idea in mind—he wanted to stream the whole thing for his fans. The chat had been buzzing since the moment the stream started, everyone excited to see what chaos might unfold.

You stood side by side in front of the blank, white wall, paint rollers in hand. Lando had the stream set up at the perfect angle, giving his fans a full view of the soon-to-be colorful masterpiece.

“Alright,” Lando said, dipping his roller into a tray of bright blue paint, his grin already too mischievous for your liking. “Let’s see if we can make something that won’t get us laughed off the internet.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you dipped your roller into a soft lavender paint. “I’m not making any promises. You’re the one who thought it’d be fun to do this on stream.”

Lando turned to the camera, addressing the chat with his signature grin. “What do you guys think? Masterpiece or disaster?”

The chat exploded with comments, half of them betting on disaster, while the others rooted for you to somehow pull off a miracle.

You both started out pretty strong. Lando made wide, sweeping strokes across the wall while you filled in smaller areas with pops of lavender and green. The banter between you was light, and the chat seemed to be enjoying the friendly competition as you worked side by side.

But you should’ve known it wouldn’t stay serious for long.

Out of nowhere, you felt a cold splatter of paint hit your arm. Your eyes widened as you looked down at the splotch of blue that now stained your shirt.

“Lando…” you said slowly, turning to face him.

He had the audacity to feign innocence, holding his roller up like a shield. “What? I thought your side needed some color.”

The chat erupted in laughter, emojis flooding the screen as you grabbed your brush and dipped it into the nearest paint tray. “Oh, you’re not getting away with that.”

Before he could dodge, you swiped a streak of green paint across his chest, leaving a long line over his shirt. His mouth dropped open, eyes wide in mock horror.

“Oh, it’s like that, huh?” Lando stepped closer, flicking his roller at you and sending splatters of blue all over your arm.

“Lando!” you shrieked, laughing despite yourself as you backed away. “I’m supposed to look semi-normal after this!”

“Too late,” he grinned, grabbing a paintbrush dripping with pink. “You’re in this now.”

Before you could react, he swiped the brush across your cheek, leaving a bright streak from your temple to your chin. The chat was going wild, the chaos unfolding exactly as they’d hoped.

“That’s it,” you muttered, grabbing your own brush and swiping it across his mouth without hesitation, leaving his lips covered in bright yellow paint. “How do you like that?”

Lando froze, his eyes going wide with surprise as he processed what had just happened. His lips, now covered in yellow, twitched as he fought to hold back laughter. Then, with a gleam in his eye, he stepped closer, closing the space between you.

“Oh, you’re in so much trouble now,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You tried to back away, but your giggles made it impossible to move fast enough. Lando’s hands found your waist, and in one swift move, he swiped his paint-covered fingers across your other cheek, leaving bright streaks of color in their wake. You gasped, playfully shoving him back, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in closer, his face just inches from yours.

“Lando, don’t—” you started, but before you could finish, he gently pressed his paint-covered lips to your cheek.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the playful energy between you suddenly shifted. You blinked, realizing how close you were, how his warm breath brushed against your skin. His eyes met yours, and for a second, everything else disappeared—the paint, the mess, even the stream.

Without thinking, you reached up and smeared more yellow paint across his cheek, then down to his lips. “How do you like that?”

But before you could pull away, Lando’s grin turned wicked. “Oh, you’re not getting away that easily.”

And then, in a move that caught you completely off guard, he leaned in and kissed you—right there, in the middle of his living room, paint smeared between your lips and his. The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if this was really happening. But when you didn’t pull away, he deepened it, his hands sliding up to cup your face.

Your heart raced as you kissed him back, the world around you melting away as you got lost in the moment. You’d always had this playful back-and-forth with Lando, but you never imagined it would lead to this—kissing him, covered in paint, in the middle of a live stream.

The sudden realization hit you like a bucket of cold water.

“Lando,” you mumbled against his lips, trying to pull back. “The stream.”

He froze, pulling back just enough to glance at the camera. His face, still smudged with paint, went slack with realization. “Oh. Shit.”

You both turned to the screen, where the chat was exploding with comments, emojis, and what looked like a million laughing faces. The viewers had seen everything. Your face burned as you wiped a hand across your mouth, trying to clean off the paint (and maybe some of the embarrassment).

“Well,” Lando said, his grin returning as he faced the camera, “that escalated quickly.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, despite the situation. “This is all your fault, you know.”

“Oh, I’m fully aware,” he chuckled, wiping paint from his chin. “But come on, you have to admit that was worth it.”

You shot him a playful glare, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “I guess the wall can wait.”

The chat had gone into overdrive, spamming everything from “FINALLY” to “THIS IS THE CONTENT WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR,” and while you were still flustered, you couldn’t deny that the moment had been… well, perfect.

Lando winked at you, still catching his breath. “So… do we keep painting the wall, or do we give the stream what they really want?”

You rolled your eyes, smudging more paint across his face. “We finish the wall, and maybe we’ll figure out what happens next.”

[knifegremliin]

the interesting thing about being so awful about hydrating for the majority of your life is that when you finally get good at it, you realize just how pale your pee is supposed to be

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader requested by multiple: doctor visit

The pediatrician's office is very bright.

Bright walls, bright furniture, bright toys. The hallway is painted a bright blue, dotted with wispy, spongey clouds, spiraling in patterns from floor to ceiling.

The exam room is not much better. It's yellow. Supposed to be soothing, you tell him. It's anything but.

The bright colors unsettle him, but he shoves it down. Swallows the gnawing anxiety brewing in the back of his mind, forces away the spiral attempting to swallow him whole. He falls back on what gives him comfort, what allows him to sleep at night, what makes him feel whole. The only one who doesn't make him feel torn to shreds. The one who can touch his bare skin without making him shake. You.

You're nervous too. It started when you got the baby undressed, and has only gone downhill from there. He can see it in the way you pace back and forth in the room, holding Ry to your chest, bouncing him, rubbing his back. There's dread scrawled into your expression, grim unease radiating from your bones.

"C'mere mama." He reaches, pulling your forearm and tugging you close, resting his chin on top of your head. You relax, but barely. "Everything's going to be alright."

"He hates shots."

"He's a baby, course he does. Can't blame 'im. Huh bub?" He strokes Orion's chubby and round cheek, tilting his head to press a kiss to your temple.

Someone knocks on the door, and it creaks open.

"Hi!" A young woman in a white coat smiles at them, giving Simon an odd look before stepping forward. He swallows the acid burning the back of his throat.

"Hey, Dr. Marsh." You greet weakly, face pinched. She says hello, and washes her hands, keeping a stream of chatter until she's seated on a rolling stool with an iPad in her hand.

"How's our big man?"

"Still big." You quip drily, and she laughs, glancing up at Simon. You look at him too, and then your mouth drops into a little o. "Sorry, this is Simon. Orion's dad." She stands, extends her hand. He takes it, careful to not squeeze too tight before letting go and hanging his own rigidly by his side, tense, like he's priming for a fight of some kind.

"I guess we know where he gets his size from." Fingers tap across the screen, and then she sets it on the examination table. "So, how is it going?"

"Fine, good, I think. He's still feeding every three hours. I feel like he's gained ten pounds since our last visit." She nods. "I've been trying to pump as much as I can but... there's just... not as much."

"That can happen. If you're still happy with breastfeeding, I don't have any concerns. Of course, if you want to stop, that's more than okay. As long as he's getting what he needs, there's no wrong way to feed him." You nod, rubbing his back. Dr. Marsh asks about any other concerns, and after you say you have none, she reaches for him. "Let's see if our guy is still a ninety nine percenter, huh?" Simon frowns.

"Ninety nine percenter?"

"He's uh, in the ninety nine percentile. Very big."

"Very big, and very tall." Dr. Marsh says from over her shoulder, where she's now got Orion on the baby scale. "Born at what mum, four and a half kilograms?" Simon blanches. Bloody hell. You haven't really told him too much about the birth, and he hasn't pushed you on it. Maybe this is why. You don't have a c-section scar, and he winces thinking about you giving birth, naturally. He should have been there. Should have held your hand, told you how amazing you were. How strong. The familiar feeling of regret resurfaces, and he gives you an apologetic look. You shrug with a little smile.

"He looked like a giant in the nursery, next to all the... regular sized babies." Dr. Marsh laughs, but Simon grimaces. Guilt settles in his stomach like a rock.

"Sorry, mama." He apologizes sheepishly, squeezing your hand, and you rub your thumb over his knuckles.

"It's okay, I kinda," your eyes sweep over him from head to toe, "expected it."

"Alright, so," Dr. Marsh brings Ry back over, handing him to you, but Simon intervenes, pulling him into his arms. He worries about your back. She smiles again, types something into the tablet, and then clears her throat, "growth is slowing down."

"Is that bad?" You sound alarmed, and she shakes her head.

"Not bad, considering he's been outperforming in height and weight since he was born. This happens, it's normal, there's nothing to worry about. However, he's still in the nineties. Just shy of eight kilograms."

"What's normal?" He's curious now, wondering how big his son is really, compared to others. He'd even feel proud, if he wasn't worried about the trauma having him may have caused you.

"Fiftieth percentile is around six. Now," she rests her hands on her thighs, and levels a serious look at you. "How are you? Sleep getting any better? Are you keeping up on hydration?" Simon peeks down at you, lips tugged into a firm line.

"He still feeds every three hours, and I'm the source so... not really."

"Any more dizzy spells?" What? His head snaps your direction. Orion gurgles, and he pats his back absentmindedly. Dizzy spells? Why haven't you said anything?

"Uh, not really. Maybe a few."

"Breastfeeding can take a lot out of you. It uses a lot of metabolic energy, so try to make sure you're eating enough and drinking a lot of water. It's normal to feel exhausted or fatigued, but taking care of your nutritional needs will go a long way. I know I sound like a broken record but, I think it will help. You might also try talking to your OB, since you know... I'm only a little human doctor." You swallow.

"Okay." She gives you a serious look, and you nod.

"Alright then, let's move on to everyone's favorite part."

He holds Orion for the entirety of the rest of the visit. He squirms and screams as he gets his shots, crying at the top of his lungs, and Simon closes his eyes at one point to take a deep breath. He's okay. He's safe. They're both safe. They're here.

You take him afterward, lips to the top of his head, eyes closed as you whisper. "Shhh, I know baby, I know. It's over now. All done. You were so brave." Simon's heart aches. It hurts to know you're struggling, that you see yourself as a failure, when it's so blatant that you're anything but. He's going to fix that.

You stop at the reception desk, lingering until the girl behind it gets off the phone. "Um, can we update Orion's emergency contact list? I want his dad to be on there, too." Simon looks down at you, momentarily dumbstruck. Sweet, sweet girl. Sweet little kitten. The receptionist smiles brightly, taking the information he provides, phone number, back up phone number (work cell) and his name.

The two of you head towards the elevator, and you give him a hesitant look as you step inside. "You don't mind right? I didn't want to overstep but... you're his parent too, I thought you might want to be-" You don't get to finish before he's swooping down with a hand at the small of your back and another on the baby's head, slamming his lips to yours so fiercely your breath hitches.

"Mama," he kisses your forehead, and then cups your chin. "You and Orion are my family now. You're it for me, and I'm chuffed you'd think to put me down as an emergency contact." You jerk back at his words, eyes wide. Too much? Too soon? Too strong? He doesn't care. He needs to start easing you into it, getting you used to the new reality, before he's moving you and the baby out of your flat and giving you a new last name.

"Simon." You whisper, but he shakes his head.

"I told you. I wanted you the night we made him, and I still do. You're everything. You're mine. You and our boy." You don't say anything, and the silence kills him until you reach for his hand, interlacing your fingers with his. "An' we're going to have a talk about you getting dizzy and not saying anything to me. Alright?" You gulp.

"Alright."

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Melt

"And if I die because you made me melt, oh well."

Summary: You and Frankie spend a hot summer day by the pool

Word Count: 1.8K

Pairing: Husband!Frankie Morales x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, semi-public shenanigans (we're assuming there's a big, tall fence around the pool lmao), Frankie being our 🐱 eating king, Frankie being the sweetest and so obsessed with you, poor Pope probably needs to clean his pool after these two leave, reader wears a bathing suit, can swim and can get sunburned

A/N: HEY HOMIES, IT'S YA GIRL!!!!! What better way to celebrate National Catfish Day than with a lil poolside Frankie 🤪 It has been hotter than Satan's ballsack out here in the midwest, so this song is dedicated to this ongoing heatwave and this song that I am absolutely obsessed with and is SO Frankie coded 😭 This is the first thing that I have worked on since May so apologies in advance for bein' a little rusty, but I'm excited to finally be back on the writing train again!!! ily all, big forehead kisses for each of you MWAH!!!! 🥹 poorly beta'd bc that's how i roll

Love it or hate it, if there was one thing that you could always count on, it was the fact that summers in south Florida were hot. 

Really fucking hot. 

So when Pope had offered up his pool for you and Frankie to use while he was out of town for the week, it was a no brainer that the two of you had ecstatically accepted his invitation. 

“We really owe Pope for this one, huh?” You smirked, setting down your beach bag on one of the lounge chairs spread across the pool deck, pulling out some sunscreen and towels for you and Frankie. 

“Yeah, I guess we do.” Frankie sighed, nodding his head in agreement, admiring the crystal blue water sparkling in the heat of the hot summer sun, hands on his hips as he looked out over the pool. 

You couldn’t help but giggle as you stood behind him, secretly whipping out your phone to take a picture of Frankie inspecting the pool before quickly texting it to Pope, knowing what a kick he’d get out of it. 

You: Thanks for letting us use the pool! New pool boy is taking his job very seriously. 🫡

Pope: Haha. Would have looked better if he showed up in a bikini. Have fun u 2. 

“What are you laughing at?” Frankie asked, turning around to the sounds of your sneaky snickers before feeling his own phone buzz in his pocket, looking down to see a text from Pope. 

Pope: Your wife thinks you’d make a good pool boy. Told her you need a bikini first. Have fun with Mrs. Fish today.

Pope: Not too much fun though. 🤨

Frankie: Sorry to disappoint. 

Frankie: What’s that supposed to mean? 

Pope: I just cleaned the pool before I left. Don’t need any baby fish swimming around in there if you know what I mean 🐟 💦 lol

Frankie: Jesus christ, Pope.

Frankie shook his head as he slipped his phone back into his pocket as he made his way over to you, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you closer to his chest. 

“You think I’d make a good pool boy, huh?” He smirked, planting a chaste kiss in your lips as the two of you laughed. 

“The best. But only if you give me another kiss and put some sunscreen on me so I don’t turn into a lobster.” You teased, kissing him right back before pulling away to grab the sunscreen bottle, passing it off to him. 

“Fair enough.” 

As he took the bottle from you, starting to shake it up, Frankie couldn’t help stop and watch in awe as you began to remove your coverup. Underneath, it revealed the little, strappy, bright yellow bikini you had just bought, deciding that today would be a good choice to show it off for the first time with just you and your husband together. 

“Fuck me…” Frankie whispered under his breath, his tongue darting out of his mouth and swiping over his bottom lip as he looked you up and down, admiring every sun-kissed inch of your soft skin and the way the fabric of your swimsuit hugged your curves. “Is this- fuck, is this new?” he asked softly, his sweet brown eyes just about popping out of his head, trying to use every ounce of self composure to even form a coherent question. 

“Do you like it? I got it a few days ago when I was out. Figured I could use a new one.” You blushed, biting down on your lip at Frankie’s reaction, wondering how in the world he still managed to make you feel as beautiful as he did the first night he’d met you after all your time spent together. 

“Can I show you?” Frankie asked, running his hands along your waist, gently toying with the strings holding your swimsuit bottoms together. 

“Show me what?” 

“Show you how much I like it?” He responded, his voice sending a shiver down your spine as his fingers slowly began to undo the bow tied around your hips while he gently nipped at your neck, making your stomach swell with arousal. 

“Mhmmmmmm.” You nodded, carefully backing up until your legs hit the lounge chair behind you, Frankie gently guiding you to sit down and lay back while he nestled himself between your legs, draping each one over his bare, broad shoulders, his tanned and freckled skin glowing in the blazing afternoon sun. 

Frankie wasted no time planting soft kisses up the inside of your thighs, the familiar scratch of his beard and mustache against your skin making you moan in eager anticipation as you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your swimsuit bottoms. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that? I’m so lucky.” He whispered between kisses along the meat of your thighs before stopping at your core, letting his fingers brush against the fabric of your swimsuit, sneaking under the material just enough to feel how wet you had already become in the few short moments since you had sat down. 

“Seems like you're pretty wet for not even getting in the pool yet, Hermosa.” Frankie teased, the ghosting of his fingers along your cunt making you whine as you propped your head up to see the devilish smirk between his cheeks. 

Almost painfully slowly, Frankie untied the first, then second bow holding your bottoms together on each hip, watching your swimsuit fall to the ground, revealing your pussy, slick and puffy, worked up from Frankie’s touch. 

“So pretty…” He cooed, letting his fingers drag across your cunt, collecting your arousal and rubbing at your clit, already aching to be touched. 

Frankie was nothing if not a methodical man, memorizing every twitch and hitched breath beneath his touch, learning all the things that absolutely drove you wild.

Knowing that he could be the only one to make you feel this good got him off more than anything else ever could.

He couldn’t help but grin at the way your lips fell to a perfectly parted “O” as he pressed more pressure against your sensitive nub, and how they fell even wider as he pressed two of his fingers into your entrance, gently curling them to bump against the soft, spongy spot inside you that had you clenching around his hand. 

“Oh Frankie… Fuck…” You whimpered, your head falling back as Frankie’s fingers were soon followed by his tongue, licking a long, broad strip across your cunt, ​​putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to make that all too familiar sweet tingling sensation to start build in your stomach. 

Frankie’s tongue danced in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you with just his fingers. That, combined with the meticulous and skilled motions of his tongue had the coil in your belly beginning to tighten further and further. 

Your hand shot down between your parted legs, reaching to grab a fistful of Frankie’s brown, curly locks, thick and sweaty from the heat, tugging just hard enough to force his gaze up towards you, your eyes locking with his rich, brown ones. 

“F-Frankie-” Was all you were able to mutter as he continued with his fingers to press against your g-spot, slick coating his digits with each stroke. He licked one more strip along your pussy before placing soft kisses on your clit and the inside of your thighs, peeking up at you with a boyish grin. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. Wanna taste you all over me.” Frankie moaned, the low rumble of his words making your breath hitch in the back of your throat as he dove back between your legs, wrapping his free arm around one of your thighs, firmly holding you in place. 

Curving his fingers ever so slightly and latching his lips around your clit, you knew it was only a matter of moments before Frankie was about to make you fall apart completely. You could feel your legs begin to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter around his fingers, able to utter nothing but a “F-fuck…” as you felt your orgasm rip through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins and soaked Frankie below you. 

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum for him with everything that you had in you, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become. Your pussy was slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the way Frankie had fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 

“Frankie, holy fuck.” You whispered under your breath, still trying to regain your composure as you looked down at a satisfied Frankie, wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand with a smirk. 

“Always taste so sweet, Hermosa. You’re so fucking hot, I swear you’d make me melt faster than the sun.” 

The two of you both couldn’t help but snort at Frankie’s cheesy comment, sitting up as you giggled to grab Frankie’s face and bring him in for a long, deep kiss, the taste of you still fresh on his tongue. 

“You are such a cheeseball, Fransisco Morales. I can’t believe that- Frankie! Frankie! Put me down! No, no, no, no, you better not-” But before you could finish the rest of your sentence, Frankie had already picked you up out of your chair, flung you over his shoulder and had you flailing your arms and legs as he carried you towards the edge of the pool, jumping in with you mid-way through your poorly fought protest. 

Your heads bobbed to the surface, still in a fit of laughter as you floated in the refreshing cool of the sparkling pool water, you wrapped your legs around Frankie’s waist, draping your arms over his shoulders while he pulled you closer to his chest. 

“Sorry, mi amor, what were you saying?” Frankie teased, raising a playful eyebrow at you as he grinned with his goofy smile, making you over dramatically roll your eyes at him. 

“One, that you are the biggest goof I’ve ever met and I love you for it,” You snickered, plating a soft kiss on his plush lips, “and two, I think I can practically hear Pope screaming at you for the fact I’m half naked in his pool.” 

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”   

Taglist

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby

@fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha

@jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed

@pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns

@missladym1981 @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color

@persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow

@vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller

@mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover

@bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring

@itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[gutsby]

Wingman

Pairing: Himbo!Joel x Reader

Summary: Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.

Warnings: 18+. Period crackfic starring Himbo!Joel—don’t take it too seriously. R has a uterus that hates her. Mentions of blood, cramps, & hangover-induced puking. Dirty talk, f!masturbation. One (1) Mean Girls reference.

Word count: 1.7k

You were fucked ten ways to Wednesday if you didn’t get your hands on some soap, a steamer, and a supersized box of maxi-pads in the span of the next eleven minutes.

Joel Miller moved like molasses on a flat slab of granite.

“WILL YOU HURRY— THE FUCK— UP?”

Your cheeks were hot. The night air was cold.

Every other word that managed to claw out of your throat was punctuated by a breath—your stomach clenched, and the sex organ below it was in hysterics.

Joel continued to lace up his loafer, clumsy as ever.

“O-kay, okay,” he hummed, “Steamer, soap, and, uh…”

“Pads!”

“Uh-huh. Right. So what kinda…blood stuff is it, again?”

The words were like an aspersion on his tongue. At the ripe old age of forty-seven, Joel still hadn’t quite learned to jibe with the menstrual product lingo, and it showed.

“Heavy flow. Any brand. With wings,” you hissed.

“Boneless or traditional?”

And if he hadn’t been standing outside the truck, foot propped up against the driver’s seat while he tied his shoe, you likely would’ve smacked him upside the head. The glare you gave him was sufficiently vicious to extinguish the smirk, though. Your hand made a fist in the front of your dress, and you groaned, leaning inward.

Joel got the picture and finished his bunny ears quick.

“Sorry.”

Then, a little more sheepish as he straightened up,

“I’m goin’. Be just a minute.”

And he was off.

Your body curled into a ball as soon as he left. It cried in pain, to nothing and no one around but that fugly slut, the nastiest skank bitch you’d ever met, your uterus.

There was no way you and Joel were making it to this rehearsal dinner. You needed to be at the venue by 7:00, the clock on the dash read 6:11, and you were, currently, twenty miles shy of Fredericksburg with a rag between your legs and your best friend scouring the local H-E-B.

That afternoon you’d been running late, so of course you’d thrown on your thin, satin, pre-wedding-ready dress before you left—and forgotten a change of clothes. Joel had been hungover from all the batshit bachelor party antics, so of course you’d had to stop three times along the way just so he could throw up on the side of the road. And, though your friend was many, many things, discreet was not one of them, so of course he’d told you, point-blank, when he saw you reaching for something in the backseat with your butt sticking up:

“You been pissin’ tomato juice or somethin’?”

And you’d looked back in abject horror.

Of course your period had come a week early and made you bleed straight through your bright yellow dress.

Maria was your best friend. You were her maid of honor. Tommy’s groomsmen happened to be the most fuckable bunch you’d ever seen—save for Joel—so there was no way you’d be caught dead at that dinner with the flag of Japan on your ass. And Maria had bought the dress just for you, so you felt like you had to get this bloodstain out.

You lifted your head to peer out the window. Even with the help of a fistful of ibuprofen, you could barely move.

6:29

“Dude, where are you?!”

It was like your phone and the FaceTime call to Joel had just materialized on their own. The man on the screen was blinking slow. Ogling something in front of him.

“So ‘L’ stands for…long?” he said after a beat.

“No, that’s light, Joel, I need a heavy one.”

“This one’s got cardboard in it, I think.”

“That’s a tampon applicator, dipshit.”

In a blink, Joel’s eyes flitted to his phone. His nostrils flared, and he met your gaze with a scowl of his own.

“Well how the hell am I supposed to know that? Only stuck two— three things in a pussy before and it sure as fuck wasn’t cotton,” he griped, and if he were any less mature he likely would’ve rolled his eyes. Drama king.

You winced as another cramp rolled through you. You shook your head and tried to regain your composure.

“Just find a heavy-flow. pad. with wings. for me. Please.”

Joel sighed and turned back to the shelf, eyes searching.

It shouldn’t have been this hard, but it was. You had no doubt Joel had never willingly touched a pussy product before in his life, so the road ahead was treacherous. Silently, you felt the urge to tell him he had no business being in pussy at all if he didn’t bother to learn what came out of one every month, but you let him cook.

His dark, greyish brows drew together in concentration. He leaned forward and reached for a box. Then stopped.

Went low to grab another, before pausing to show you.

“Very close, Joel. That’s a pantyliner.”

You felt somewhat like a mother showing a headstrong four-year-old how to copy shapes onto paper. No, darling, that’s a diva cup—and be careful with that crayon. Joel stood and he stewed and, by the look in his eyes, you’d already resigned yourself to another ten minutes of this back-and-forth rummaging at least.

Then you shifted in your seat, pushing your legs down a bit. They rubbed, of course. In spite of the pain that had seized your whole lower half, you felt a sweet, dull pulse.

You stared hard at Joel’s face on-screen to make sure he hadn’t seen it in yours, but damn that friction felt nice.

Sensitivity elevated with the influx of hormones, no doubt, you sat tight and tried to enjoy the feeling on purpose for a moment. You slowly sucked in a breath.

“Aw, hell, there’s just too many’a these damn boxes.”

You flexed your thigh muscles and let out a sigh.

“I don’t know how y’all do it,” Joel grumbled.

Keep looking, Miller. Just keep looking.

Slowly, your hips began to stir, and one small grain of pleasure gave way to a jolt—a twist in the pit of your belly that made the pain less grating. You leaned into it more.

Holding your phone, you could feel when Joel let out a frustrated groan. The sound low and almost enticing.

Wait.

Wait.

“Gross,” you said out loud, half-whispered.

You couldn’t help it. Joel was one of your closest friends; a man who loved beer die, Pall Malls, and Keith Whitley like nobody’s business and gave suffocating bear hugs whenever he was sweaty just to gross you out. You weren’t supposed to find men like that attractive.

But when the grit of his voice was just so nice…

“What?” Joel stopped to look down again.

“What?” you shot back, instantly.

A frown tugged at his lips.

“What’s ‘gross’? Me?”

Not…exactly, no.

More disgusted with yourself than anyone else, you clamped your legs together and shook your head. You tried to swallow, as if the action might suck the pleasure down with it, but the hot, throbbing sensation only grew.

You were practically grinding into the towel that had been stuffed between your thighs when you heard:

“Wings!”

An exceptionally proud Joel displayed a box of extra heavy-duty maxi-pads, with wings. He was grinning.

You weren’t sure if you thanked him next, congratulated the man, or what. You probably strung some words together and tried to return the smile as best you could, but who knew? The next thing you saw was that the line had gone dead, the truck was silent, and all that could be heard above the hum of the engine were your moans.

You braced yourself against the seat and rolled your hips even harder. Out of habit, you caught your lip between your teeth to prevent a louder sound from escaping, but then you remembered there was no one to hear you but you—for now. Your palm pressed flat on the dashboard, your knees squeezed even closer, and your vision flooded with soft, minuscule pinpricks of an all-too-familiar hue.

The only thing new to you here was Joel—the thought of him had never crossed your mind in moments like these.

But now you were closing your eyes, humping the seat with nothing between your body and the old, weathered upholstery but a scrap of fabric. And you were moaning his name. Imagining a face that was littered with coarse, grey stubble—you might’ve teased him for that once or twice before—and lips that were soft. So soft against your own that you wouldn’t think twice if he tried to slip his tongue inside and hold the sides of your face as he filled your cunt to the brim. In fact, Joel’s mouth would be a welcome distraction. Knowing how foul he was in even friendly confab, he’d undoubtedly be whispering the most vile things in your ear while he fucked you.

Reminding you, quietly, that you made such a pretty cocksleeve for him—why didn’t we try this sooner?— and how you’d be the sweetest thing if you just gave his cock another squeeze and made yourself cum all over it.

The mental image of that alone was inducement enough.

You felt a hot, euphoric band of something start to give way inside you. It tightened up, twisted—then snapped. Your mouth fell open and your thighs clenched tighter, grinding desperately in tandem with a pace you’d hoped Joel might’ve set if he were laying there underneath you. You clung to one last thought of him gripping your hips and bruising your walls with the force of his cock driving in and out, over and over again until, eventually, his cum was leaking out through each fluid thrusting movement. It was all your body could take, conjuring thoughts of his load spilling into you and onto him in warm, wet, sticky—

Whistling.

Someone was whistling outside. Walking up to the truck.

You were still coming down from the staggering heights of your climax when the driver’s side door swung open. You blinked furiously, as though to drive all the filth and depravity and need from your eyes before he could see.

It didn’t matter.

Joel was too amped up off a white plastic baggy to be concerned with much else as he plopped down beside you and smiled—beamed, really. Completely oblivious.

Your extremities were still twitching with the residuum of bliss when he reached for your hand. His eyes somehow warmer than they’d been all that day, they sparkled and shone and crinkled at the corners in a way that seemed to say the words before his mouth had uttered a sound.

“I got three boxes to be safe…”

Joel was really too sweet.

“…and some chocolate for your cramps…”

Always so considerate.

“…and you look real pretty when you cum, by the way.”

This motherfucker.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 123

Talon is… confused. Though talons can not feel confusion, according to the Court talons don’t feel anything. Perhaps what it is feeling is not confusion then, but for a lack of a better term it supposes it shall refer to it as that. 

There is… another Talon? A strange Talon, far smaller than any talon it has seen before, and with eyes not yellow either. They were more… green! Yes, that was the color! A bright gleaming green not like any other talon’s golden or yellow eyes hidden beneath goggles. 

Sometimes the Court would bring Talons down to the white rooms though, it knows. For injections or to be cut into, depending on if they were working correctly like good talons should. But sometimes the Court would bring hatchling-talons down to… make better? Make better as the Masters said. 

Hm… so this was another Talon! A hatchling-Talon? A baby-Talon! Only the best talons got to have hatchlings and fledglings follow them, though this hatchling looked too small to climb. Not that it mattered, if the Court has sent and given it a Hatchling then it must be doing a good job at watching the Bats. Now it must simply keep an eye on both the Bats and its Hatchling. 

It shall put the Hatchling in its hood, where the Cold cannot reach it and Talon doesn’t have to worry about Hatchling not keeping up. Not that talons can feel worry. According to the Court, talons don’t feel anything after all. 

Danny on the other hand, isn’t pleased with how emerging from his core early has resulted in him being some sort of toddler. Which A, isn’t fair, and B, is humiliating! Not to mention there was this really strange person who… oh wait that’s ghost-speak. Heavily accented but definitely ghost-speak, with the proper emotion sharing before said emotions are squashed down and everything. 

Huh. They don’t feel like a ghost either, they kind of feel similar to him, albeit… sort of not? Muffled? Ugh, it’s hard to tell with this tiny baby body! Curse you tiny baby body! 

[justwinginglife]

Girl's Night

It's girl's night and Soshiro doesn't want you to go.

You rummage through a pile of fresh laundry you sloppily dumped all over your bed.

"Where is it? Where is it?" You murmur to yourself, looking for that one specific dress. You spy something bright yellow out of the corner of your eye and you grin triumphant. "Aha!" You yank it from the bottom of the pile, like you're ripping a tablecloth out from under a bunch of glasses. Then you frown. You don't remember it being this small in your head. "Shit, it shrunk." You mutter under your breath and toss it to the floor, exasperated.

You shake your head and go back to your closet, ignoring the ever-growing pile of clothes on the bed and now the floor. Your fingers fly through the hangers, searching for just one top, just one skirt, just one dress that might be right for tonight. You know your girls always dress to impress and you refuse to be the underdressed one tonight.

Footsteps grow nearer but you're too busy thinking to notice.

"Hey baby," Soshiro enters the room. "I was thinking, what if you didn't go toni- woah." He eyes the scattered clothing around the room and he finally finds you on the floor of your closet looking exhausted, still not having picked an outfit. He quickly brings a hand up to cover his mouth but the laughs are already coming out. "Love," he says in between laughs, "What's all this?"

You roll your eyes at him but can't help but admire how cute he looks clutching his sides, trying to stop himself from laughing. "I have no clothes." You say shrugging.

That earns you another laugh from him. He kneels down in front of you, taking your hands in his. "No clothes huh?" He shakes his head at you teasingly. "How 'bout this?" He pulls a shirt from the floor and deposits it on your head. "Or this?" He drapes a skirt across your shoulder.

You scrunch up your nose at his teasing and he pokes the tip of your nose, grinning. Then suddenly in one smooth move, he scoops you up into his lap and holds you there. "I can solve this issue." He nudges your ear with his nose. "Don't go. Stay home with me."

You roll your eyes again, trying to suppress a smile but it spills out across your cheeks anyway. "Can't, silly. Promised I'd go. Girl's night." You give him a small shrug and throw your hands up as if to say there's nothing you can do about it.

He pouts. "And what about Soshiro night?"

You laugh and nuzzle up against his cheek. "Every night is Soshiro night, baby."

He raises an eyebrow at you. "But not tonight?"

You shake your head, "Not tonight baby." You kiss his cheek as an apology.

Finally you pull yourself off his lap and stand up, ready to comb through your clothes again. An idea crosses your mind. You point to him on the floor. "Sit here. Tell me what you think okay? This is important, I need your opinion."

You start pulling options off of the rack and holding them up against your body. "This or this?" You ask.

He smirks. "I don't know baby, how am I supposed to know what it'll look like on you unless you try it on for me?" He asks innocently.

"Cheeky bastard." You snort and start undressing.

His eyes widen and he's surprised you're actually doing it even though it was his idea. His excitement at seeing you in your underwear quickly vanishes as you slide on a purple dress. "Hey!" He protests. "I was enjoying the view."

You laugh and shake your head at him, "So shameless. What am I going to do with you?" You give the dress a twirl. "So? Thoughts?"

"Would look better if you weren't wearing anything." He mumbled under his breath. But then he leans back to get a full view of you and he whistles. "Yeah baby... that's the one." He looks you up and down hungrily.

You look at yourself in the mirror. "Nah I don't think it looks right." You go back to rummaging through your clothes and he scoffs at you.

"Unbelievable baby, I just said you're perfect." He stands and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him, hoping to stop you from changing out of the dress.

You ignore him clinging to you, even though admittedly it does feel nice. You pull out another dress. It's red. You hold it up for him to see. "One more try?"

He sighs, releasing you. "Fine, one more. But if you change your outfit again I'm pinning you down love."

He watches you again, licking his lips slightly as you slide the purple dress off and slip into the red one. His breath catches in his throat as you give him another twirl in this one. He can't look away from you as you smooth the dress down on your hips. He sucks in a breath. "Yeah you're not leaving tonight."

Your eyes widen at his words but you don't have time to react as he scoops you up and carries you to the bed, using one of his arms to sweep the pile of clothes that were occupying the space to the floor.

"Soshiro-" You protest but he's already claiming your neck in hungry wet kisses. You inhale sharply at the feeling. Your eyes find the alarm clock on the nightstand beside the bed. It's almost time for you to meet with your friends. "You get 10 minutes."

He chuckles darkly and shakes his head at you. "Absolutely not. You're mine tonight."

You bite your lip, eyeing the clock one more time before sighing, resigned. "Fuck it. I'm yours. Take me."

[alieinthemorning]

Sunflowers [Grim | Casper]

Content: Fluff, POV Second Person, Spoilers

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries

Sunflowers are supposed to follow the sun, this is a fact.

However, they were facing you now, despite the fact that there were sun rays directly hitting. You tilted your head at them, reaching a hand forward to brush across the petals.

You swore that the flower moved closer into your palm.

"I wonder if Casper's really right about my soul…"

Not only was your soul like a mirage, a bright light hidden by a misty smog, but it was also capable of healing others—

"By giving a bit of myself…" You sighed, pulling your hand from the flower.

How did you receive this, you assumed it was a blessing, since you weren't accidentally stealing other people's souls to live longer or something. So a blessing, but how and why? You've been like this since you were younger, so you're pretty sure you've had it since birth, but you're also pretty sure no one in your family could use magic. But you also did just recently find out that Grim Reapers were real and not just something out of fiction.

And then you began to think about what that really meant for you. Would you truly just…cease to exist one day? Yeah, your life mainly consisted of going to work and chilling at home (with the occasional side quest of doing something else), but that didn't mean that you were ready to give it all up.

Your gaze found the sunflowers again.

"Sunshine…"

You also weren't ready to give him up yet, either.

You've never felt such an intense pull toward someone in your entire life, and you've only known Casper for less than a week.

Hell, you didn't even know his name was Casper until last night!

But…loving him…feels right. You should love him openly and wholly, and you were sure he'd do the same.

Your love for each other really were like sunflowers.

You smiled as your fingers brushed the yellow petals. "I guess you accidentally choose something with a double meaning, huh, Casper?"

I TOLD Y'ALL THAT THE FAN WAS FICCING

AND HERE WE ARE

Ahem. Anyway.

I love him very much.

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[wikiangela]

you're the sun to me

Buck's in the middle of cooking dinner when there's a knock at the door. Before he can even move or open his mouth to tell his guest to come in, the door is opening, and his boyfriend walks in. Buck grins at him from where he's stirring in the pot, heart swelling just at the sight of him. It's supposed to be just a regular evening, not really a date, just eating dinner together like they try to at least once a week whenever their schedules allow.

"Hey." Tommy says, kicking off his shoes at the door. Buck instantly notices that he has his arm hidden behind his back, and is careful to face Buck at all times as he walks over to him. Huh.

"Hi, Tommy." Buck responds, raising an eyebrow. "What-" he starts, but just as he's about to ask what Tommy's hiding, he's already right next to Buck, spinning him with one hand to press him against the counter, and kissing him hello. Buck instinctively closes his eyes and kisses back, smiling into Tommy's lips. Kissing him is still one of his favorite activities ever, and he doesn't think it's ever going to change.

The kiss is sweet and soft, and way too short, Tommy pulling away way too quickly for Buck's liking. He's about to pout and complain about it, and probably get another delicious, deeper kiss, like usual, but when he opens his eyes, he's a little stunned. Because he finds himself staring into a bouquet of sunflowers, that Tommy's holding up to him in the hand previously hidden behind his back. Oh, okay. That makes sense. Or, does it?

"Um. What's that?" Buck asks dumbly, as if he's never seen flowers before.

"Sunflowers for my sunshine." Tommy responds, a beaming smile on his face. Buck's heart is racing and he thinks he's going to melt into a puddle. He thinks there are tears welling up in his eyes, and he blinks them away, feeling so silly. "Is that... okay?" Tommy asks when Buck's been silent for a minute, still staring at the yellow flowers.

"Of course." Buck whispers, then clears his throat, lifting his eyes to look into Tommy's. "It's just- no one has ever gotten me flowers before."

"Hm. Well, we gotta change that, then. I can buy you flowers all the time. If you want. If you like them." Tommy shrugs, seeming a little self-conscious now, and Buck can't have that. He's wonderful, and always manages to surprise Buck in the best ways possible.

"I do, I really do. It's- it's really nice. Thank you," he says, just amazed. He'd never expect this, he'd never expect he might want this, but now that it's here, now that Tommy bought him flowers, he's actually really touched. It's stupid, it's just flowers. Still, it feels like a big deal. "But why- what's the occasion?"

"No occasion." Tommy looks down at the bouquet in his hand, smiling softly. "I was walking by the market near my house today, and saw these, and they made me think of you," he shrugs again. "So bright and happy and beautiful. Like my Evan." He grins, eyes soft and full of love and adoration, and Buck's face is burning. God, this is silly. It's such a simple gesture, but somehow it's one of the nicest and most thoughtful things a partner has ever done for him. It's sunflowers, the flower of loyalty and adoration, and happiness. And they made Tommy think of him. He called him his sunshine, didn't he? God, he's the sweetest. "To brighten your day, like you brighten my life." Tommy adds so casually, as if it wasn't one of the most beautiful things anyone's ever said to him.

"I love you." Buck sighs, and tries to lean in to kiss Tommy, but there are flowers in the way, still in Tommy's hand, extended to Buck, probably expecting him to take them, but he was too surprised to think about that. He slowly lifts his hand, placing it over Tommy's on the flowers.

"I love you, too, Evan." Tommy responds, smiling fondly. "Now, do you have a vase or something to put them in?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I think I have-" Buck goes to look for a vase, stirring in the pot again on his way. He doesn't stop smiling the rest of the evening. The flowers stand on the kitchen table for weeks, slowly wilting, and when they do, Tommy replaces them. Buck thinks he wants to buy his boyfriend flowers, too, so he does, researching the meanings of specific flowers and their amount. He finds it a good way to show Tommy how exactly he feels when simple words don't seem like enough anymore.

___

Years later, when they stand at the altar about to vow to love each other forever, both of them have little sunflower boutonnieres. Tommy's the one who insisted on the flower being present at their wedding. The dork proclaimed sunflowers their flower, and it's equally silly and adorable. Buck had never given much thought to what his favorite flower might be. Now, the answer is obvious.

[biolumien]

palette

hajime umemiya x graffiti artist!reader only a little snippet, but it might become bigger later, word count: 899

you were at home right here with the collection of paint markers and aerosol cans at your feet. your free hand adjusted the filtration mask on your face as you sprayed a nonsensical pattern onto the wall using a fluorescent green so bright it almost hurt your eyes. as you began to draw on the concrete wall using a black paint marker, you felt the sneaking suspicion that eyes were on you. 

that was odd. 

you did most—hell, all your graffiti work in the dark of night, hidden from sight. you’d been chased off by a few townsfolk when you were tagging signs or walls in broad daylight, which you supposed was fair. you were technically doing something utterly illegal, after all. but you kept at it at night, painting flowers and animals, or just random letters onto whatever surface you could. 

bofurin boys often covered it up—as was their right, too, you supposed, but it always irritated you when you’d come back around and find work you’d slaved on all night be covered up with a fresh layer of white paint. 

but back to the feeling that you were being watched. 

“who’s there?” you call out, pulling off your filtration mask slightly. 

“so you’re the one doin’ all those green tags!” a boisterous voice said, and you felt a sudden presence right behind you. you whirled around, dropping your black paint marker across the floor, wincing as it skittered across the alleyway. “did you know that this taiyaki place has called us every day for a week about the graffiti?” 

fuck. you did know that voice. hajime-fuckin’-umemiya, leader of the bofurin, who had essentially annexed and reformed furin high school by force. not only were they vigilante heroes of justice—they also practically were civil servants that served the community—and now their fucking leader was staring at you with a strange, open look in his eye. 

he wasn’t even dressed in his furin uniform—you think you’ve seen it a few times, the whistling long coat that he wore out on patrols with some of the other furin boys. despite it all, he somehow had that sort of aura of warm authority about him—paired with a brilliant and curious smile on his face.

“so what?” you ask defensively. 

“you do know the graffiti’s illegal, right?” umemiya questioned, raising an eyebrow as he walked over to where your marker had skittered across the floor, picking it up. “you could be put in jail for up to five years, you know!” he flipped the marker around, holding it out to you. 

“like i need someone from furin lecturing me about that,” you say, taking the marker back from him. umemiya seemed to deflate a little, almost like a sad puppy, upon your very subtle furin insult, so you hastily add a, “no offense.” 

“mm. i get it, i get it! i do. all the work i did to rehabilitate bofurin’s image doesn’t mean much when people remember how dangerous it was before,” umemiya says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “but! i figured i’d come around the taiyaki shop at night, see if there was some repeat offender doing the graffiti, and here you are!” 

umemiya spreads his hands magnanimously, and you can see how worn and callused his hands are from years spent brawling against other students. there was no way he was going to start fighting you, right—?

“i just wanted to ask you to stop,” umemiya says. “i mean, i respect your artistic visions! i always thought it was a waste to paint over your works—i remember one time you did this bright yellow rabbit on a blue moon, very cool, by the way—and—“

huh?

“i really like your art! i was wondering, if maybe…”

you held your paint marker, watching umemiya seemingly steeling his nerves for a moment–

“do you want to come to furin and paint? there’s a lot of graffiti already, and most of the time when we patrol we never use the classrooms anyway, so if it was anonymity you were worried about, that’s covered—and plus, at night, you’d still get a lot of time to do whatever you want—”

“… you’re offering me a place at your school to just—paint?” you ask confusedly, raising an eyebrow. 

“well, yeah!” umemiya says. “i mean, it’s a waste to paint over your hard work, right? it’s different than the other tags.”

“... is it?” you ask, staring at your half-finished graffiti, joining other fresh tags on the wall. 

“well, i’m not really sure if i fully believe in the idea that art carries intention–but i’d like to think yours does! and it’s kind. and i think there’s people at furin who might appreciate it.” 

“well…”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“well, okay,” you say. “but if anyone tries to start something–”

“please,” umemiya says. “we’re not animals. it’ll be great to have you.” and then he holds out his hand to shake, and you stare down at it.

are you really doing this?

umemiya’s expression is bright, warm. 

you shake his hand. 

his grip is firm, his thumb squeezing the space between your index and thumb–and you laugh with a hint of exasperation in your voice. here you were, pulled right into umemiya’s thrall–lured in by him like a sweet siren song.

“fine. see you tomorrow, then,” you mutter, your cheeks heating up.

[bruh-anator3000]

im obsessed with the Black Cat, I hope that's clear, too. and Miguel. And Logan and Wade, so what if we mashed them all up in a blender and see what happens?

Edit: I didn't mean for this one to get so out of hand, but it did, so its a short story now I guess.

Warnings: sexual themes, hella suggestive, SPOILERS HINTED from the new Deadpool, tension sexy styles, I might get Gambit '97 involved so we can listen to '4 big guys' for part two, it is a love triangle/square, trust and don't worry. Everyone's bisexual. No pronouns for reader used, but written w fem!reader in mind, that's why I'm saying bisexual, but this could just be gay for my amabs.

Parinings: Black Cat!reader x Miguel O'Hara x Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson (uh-huh. I said what I said)

~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~

Like, you didn't want to bring your roommates along with you for this heist. God. You didn't even want their sticky fingers on the paper plans. But you were running low on rent, Blind Al was a bitch now that they suspended her coke supply, and your normal crew got sick!

Dr. Boris Korpse was the smartest man alive. He could hack any system, jimmy any lock, and blew the ones he couldn't up. Bruno wasn't the brightest, but he was the bravest. And he had the muscles to prove it. He was a great getaway driver, too. And they were sick.

Wade was smart... enough. Logan was... decently strong. Logan was more of a brute, actually. Careless with his strength when it came to it, but trusting Wade Wilson to drive you home safe? With his self destructive streak? It was safer to have him do the code cracking. Hopefully.

"I wonder how many people caught the earlier exposition is from the actual comics," Wade grunted under his mask, typing in a special security code into the keypad.

Looking around with furrowed brows, he did realize it was just you three, right? You glanced at Logan, wondering if he understood what Deadpool was saying. He only gave a slight shake of his head.

"It's a quick in and out," You reminded the two, walking past the gates as the hissed open, thanks to Wilson. How he knew the password so easily, you didn't know. He said something about 'writer being too lazy to build up to the reveal,' which made it 'easier to follow if he just knew.'

Logan grunted as he followed. It frightened you how well he could retain the plans you've gone over so many times this week. It was great for him, and for you! But also sucked, because they guy replacing your 'smart guy' still needed a refresher.

You take your stance beside the large bars hiding the painting. Idly looking around while Logan let out a primal roar as he pried the gap between the metal bars wider.

"I bet that's what it sounds like when you're close, huh?" Wade snickered, pinching the yellow fabric on his hips. You cringed for several reasons. Wade's constant immaturity. And, God's above, Logan's ridiculous outfit.

Honoring the X-men or not, the yellow was as bright as a trafficlight.

You slipped through the widened gap now, ignoring Wade's whistle behind you. "You do realize this is supposed to be a silent mission?" You sneered, now on the other side of the enclosure.

Wade shrugged. "Don't worry, peaches. Nothing bad ever happens to the sexy ones. Logan might get left behind, but you and me?" His mask hid the way he bit his lip and winked. It looked like he was just staring at you.

"Alright." You sighed and moved on. That was the best way to handle these two. They gave you no other choice. I mean, you could give in and fuck them, but you were planning to save that for later if they did a good job tonight.

With the painting carefully removed, the bars bent back in place, and Wade managing to keep his pants on for a few minutes, all that was left to do was leave. You had Logan carry the painting as you all ran back to the World War 1 exhibit - the way you entered through.

You made sure the two were in front of you the entire time. You couldn't risk them getting lost, their bulk and dead brains might break something if you weren't watching them carefully. And the red and blue lights glowing as you ran past were not any help.

You stopped dead in your tracks. That wasn't your normal bisexual lighting. There were no sirens, either.

You jogged back a few paces, stopping by the archway of one of the many halls in the museum. Face to face with the digital glow of a blue and red mask.

"Hey Spider," Grinning softly, you leaned on the doorway. The Spider-Man hung upside-down on his red wire webs, per usual. You didn't need to see his sexy face to see that stoic pout he always wore.

"Good evening." He greets in that deep voice, hinting with an accent you loved. The red outlines of his eyes squinting as you boop his nose. "Are we really going to do this tonight?" He scowls, and you swoon.

He flips down, landing on his feet. Broad shoulders and thin waist beautifully extenuated by the suit that was more code than fabric. Towering over you, red blades on the back of his forearms.

"At least take your mask off," You taunt. To which he does. When has Miguel ever denied that request? As infuriating as it was, it was also a very freeing day when the two of you finally put the suits aside and fu- talked. In bed.

His brown curls looked neat today. Dark red eyes watching your every move. That pout on his sharp angled face was too cute. He was so grumpy all the time.

He glances behind you, leaning over slightly to look at the damage you've done. "Portrait of Madame X?" He notes the missing piece of work. Thick brow arching in suspicion.

You shrug. "She's an idol of mine." An idol worth 20 million to your buyer. But he didn't need to worry his pretty little head about the details.

"Do you want a 10 second head start?" He offers, placing a hand by your head and leaning in. Keeping you between his hard chest and the wall. His lips parted with a slight smirk.

"Bub, where'd you go?" Logan's gruff voice grows closer. Wade skipping alongside him. Both of them stopping dead in their tracks at the sight of Miguel.

His mask quickly ripples into place and he steps back, snarling. "Who are you?" His eyes dart to the painting you were supposed to be stealing, in some other man's hold. Keeping his body towards and more in between to block you from the other two, he snarls.

"I am soaking wet right now." Wade groans softly, admiring this little stand off. He wasn't kidding, Spider-Man had been in his 'hit' list for a few years now.

Miguel bristles, back going tense. And as great of a view that was, you knew it meant trouble.

"No, they're with me." Grabbing his broad and beefy shoulder, you push him back. Accidentally putting yourself in the middle of this odd triangle you've created.

Miguel glowers at you. "My regulars were out. I needed an extra hand." You shrug it off. That's all they were. Extra hands. In a heist. You totally weren't going to make out with them on the car ride home.

Tension thick, your shoulders weigh down as you look at all three of the men. A tinge of embarrassment hits you as you realize how similar their figures looked. You definitely had a type.

Wade breaks it up, or attempts to with another sentence you don't exactly understand. "Jesus, if the writer would get over themselves, I would fuck you two so hard." He gestures to Logan and Miguel. Earning an angry grunt from both of them that just seems to further his excitement.

"I'm so pissed we have to wait for a part two."

"Part two? Of what?" You raise a brow, looking at Wade.

He waves a hand. They don't get it.

...

But you do. And if you want a part two, please let me know! This was just an idea festering (that got out of hand a little) and I'm not sure what to make with it just yet. I also need a title for this, so if you guys have any suggestions, please let me know. Love you!

[suzukiblu]

excerpt from an in-progress "the Core Four gets a clonebaby and it's not even Tim's fault" fic

Kon has a bruise on his face and is bleeding from the mouth and has a four year-old sitting on his hip all wrapped up in his studded leather jacket. Tim finds seeing him bleeding more concerning than the sight of the kid, because while Kon isn't necessarily the first choice to comfort the traumatized civilians, he's done it plenty of times and he'll no doubt do it plenty more.

Also, like, the whole street is on fire. What, is he gonna put the kid down?

The kid is barefoot and wearing a white bodysuit, it looks like. They have pale skin and fluffy black chin-length hair and huge hazel eyes–a hazel that's practically yellow in the light of the burning street, it's so bright–and they're small and slender, but also surprisingly muscular for their age.

And surprisingly alert, Tim can't help but notice. Their eyes are subtly darting around, hypervigilant to a fault, and they're visibly just clocking things. They've already threat-assessed him, Cassie, and Bart, and they're obviously watching out for anyone else and simultaneously keeping an eye on the guttering flames and broken ground and surrounding street in general.

The bad guys left out here are technically all down and thoroughly zip-tied into submission, but the kid assesses them all too, one by one.

Tim gets a weird itch in the back of his brain, and Kon brings the kid over to the rest of them.

Their eyes aren't hazel, Tim realizes. They actually are yellow.

A very specific, familiar yellow.

"What's with the kid?" Bart asks, narrowing his very specific, familiar eyes curiously. "Like, why are you bringing the kid, I mean, not 'why does the kid exist?' That's a different question, obviously, like really why do any of us–"

"They're ours," Kon says.

Bart stops talking.

"Um?" he says.

"What do you mean they're 'ours'?" Cassie says.

"Show 'em that thing you showed me, kiddo?" Kon asks the kid, patting their back. They nod solemnly. Then they vibrate into a blur that phases right through Kon's arms, leather jacket and all. Kon makes no effort to catch them, apparently because he knows it's unnecessary, because a second later the kid is floating up into the air over all their heads.

Tim blinks, very slowly. Tilts his head.

Kon wiggles his fingers at the kid, who noises very quietly and reaches down to grab at his hand. Kon grins up at them and holds his arms open, and the kid settles back into them . . . not warily, exactly? But very definitely uncertainly. Like it's something unfamiliar.

Not like Kon is unfamiliar. Like being held is unfamiliar.

"Okay, huh," Bart says. "Well that sure was the Speed Force."

"And that sure is a Greek demigod," Cassie says.

"Sure is," Kon says agreeably. "And I'll give you two guesses as to where the attached unenhanced human DNA came from, Boy Wonder."

"Kon, what the hell?" Tim says in bemusement. "What even . . . what, exactly?"

"Remember that weird green light earlier?" Kon asks conversationally as he pets the kid's back. "The one that just kinda flashed all up in your respective businesses while I was inside punching asshole scientists after the comms got fried?"

"Yes," Tim replies warily. "I assumed it was supposed to be some kind of distraction."

"It was a DNA scanner," Kon says.

"Ah," Tim says, and wonders how the hell he's going to explain this to Bruce.

"Apparently, these shits decided the best way to handle invading superheroes was to just copy their DNA and then make speed-gro clones who could counteract their abilities," Kon says, jerking his head back towards the TTK-ruined remains of the lab. "With, obviously, a healthy side of brainwashing and indoctrination programming uploaded directly into their developing brains. But literally everyone and their mother underestimates the range of TTK, so I kinda just broke the lab and now, welllll . . ."

"So the kid is a Greek demigod with a Speed Force connection and a Bat-brain?" Cassie asks.

"Apparently," Kon says, nuzzling the kid's ridiculously floofy black hair. "Sorry, kiddo, I'd have given you TTK if I'd gotten the option, but we made the fatal error that is splitting the party. Then again, now you won't wanna puke if you ever run into kryptonite, so could be worse? And also you not getting TTK meant I was on deck to save you from getting grown into a teenage superweapon, so that was probably worth it, right? Like, not that we wouldn't have let you join the team in that case, but clone to clone, I hear actual childhoods are kinda cool and all."

Well, Tim thinks it's safe to make some assumptions about why Kon said "they're ours" and not "they're yours".

"Huh," Cassie says, looking bemused.

". . . honestly I just can't believe this isn't Rob's fault," Bart says, darting over to peer more closely at the kid, who frowns at him.

"I'm not that bad," Tim protests reflexively. The others all give him pitying looks. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not!"

"Yes you are," Cassie says dryly, then steps in closer towards Kon and the kid too and smiles at them. "Hey there, little guy. What's your name?"

The kid stares blankly at her, then curls up tighter in Kon's jacket–and, probably not incidentally, his arms–and presses in closer against him.

"No," they say. Cassie blinks.

"'No'?" she repeats in confusion.

"Babe, they're five minutes out of the cloning tube," Kon says wryly. "They don't have a name."

". . . we should fix that," Cassie says. "Like. Immediately, let's fix that."

"Yeah, I'm on board with that," Kon agrees. "Any suggestions?"

"Are you a boy or a girl?" Tim asks the kid, because at this age it's hard to tell. He's assuming boy, since two male gene donors to one female, but who knows, really.

"I'm a clone," the kid says, looking at him like they think he's stupid.

"Gender-neutral name it is," Kon says, clearly unconcerned by that very concerning response.

"Max?" Bart offers immediately and unsurprisingly, visibly perking up. Which, well–not the worst name for a speedster anyway, Tim supposes.

"Blake," Cassie suggests. "Avery, Channing, Charlie, Aubrey, Kirby, Morgan, Sage, Shiloh–"

"You're hanging out with Cissie a lot again, huh," Bart observes.

"Like you're not?" Cassie huffs, tweaking his nose before continuing with: "Ash, Casey, Jo, Sam, Maddox . . ."

"Alex?" Tim tries, mostly because Cassie's offering a lot of unusual-sounding options and that might not be ideal.

Bart and Cassie eye him. Kon raises an eyebrow in a very Luthor-esque fashion.

Tim experiences the five stages of grief and quickly moves on.

"Uh, or Jace," he says. "Or . . . Harley?"

Wait, those are terrible too.

"No," the kid says, frowning at all of them.

"None of those sound good?" Kon asks them. The kid's frown deepens and they press closer against him, still eyeing the rest of them just a little bit sullenly.

"I don't want one of their names," they say with obvious distaste, and also much clearer annunciation than a typical four year-old would have. "I want one from you."

"Oh," Kon says, blinking a couple times. "Yeah, okay, kiddo. Um . . . you sure?"

"Yes," the kid says.

"Okay," Kon says, and tightens his grip on them a little. And then, surprisingly quickly–"Kenley Elliot. And we can hash out your last name later, that's gonna have to be a later thing. How's that sound? You want it?"

"Yes," the kid repeats, and then throws their arms around Kon's neck and squeezes. It looks a bit closer to a chokehold than a hug, but Kon a) is a half-Kryptonian clone, and b) clearly doesn't care.

"Cool," he says, and swallows a little roughly. "Okay, well, that's squared away. Let's get the fuck out of here before some asshole with a badge tries to take custody of Kenley."

Tim did not miss the "Kent" and "El" concealed in either of those names, or how quickly Kon had them to hand. Not as quick as Bart had "Max", obviously, but . . .

Very quickly, all the same.

Alright, then.

[tiredsmashbros]

"happy birthday, bluejay."

2k words ; tsari fanfic

"gAH!" tari yelped as she lost her grip on the wooden plates nailed to the tree. fear of adrenaline rushed inside her veins, glancing a peek below her, acknowledging the height and distance above from the ground. she didn't have a fear of heights, yet it still was an alarming issue to imagine in her mind what could happen if she were to fall.

"w-wOaH! bj, grab my hand!" tsb directed extending his arm out, using his stretchable ability to allow tari a more secure reach. "come on!" he exclaimed, assisting her up until she was finally standing on the wooden surface base marked on their destination. "heh, trying to fall again now are we?" the man chuckled in hopes of lightening the mood, referencing an inside-joke recall based on their first meeting, "but on your birthday? what kind of a crazy bird are you!"

tari giggled, relief dominating over her after finally arriving at the top of tsb's home. "i'm not used to climbing up!" she began, taking a break to catch her breath, "why'd you have to live up so high? it's challenging to come to visit you!" the bluejay spoke glancing her eyes to take in the view as she recovered. she could see the showgrounds perfectly where she stood, watching her friends play in the grass field, and even a clear view of smg3's coffee and bombs. it was just a marvelous view, pondering why she hadn't thought to come here more often. with the wind brushing onto her face, and the shade provided by the tree's leaves to guard from the sun it was evermore peaceful and quiet. her worries gone within an instant, it was relaxing to say.

"then i suppose you'll have to come by more often to see silly o'l me, huh?" tsb responded, opening the entrance door for tari to enter. "birthday girl first~" tsb flirted, forming an exaggerated body gesture for her to enter in. tari shyly smiled and nodded, making her way inside the blue and yellow man's humble abode.

as if it was her first, tari couldn't ever grasp how peculiar and unique tsb's home was structured. the outer appearance appearing as a regular small treehouse built from wood and nails. yet the interior, god the interior was like an entirely whole other world. seemingly cartoonishly larger, covered in bright light blue walls, white clouds painted onto them. additionally, small rainbows scattered around. a giant painted sun on the ceiling, accompanied by multiple small paper-shaped stars assisted with tape dangled down from right above. high enough where her standing wouldn't bother it, but not so high where you couldn't acknowledge them. the area was furniture filled with shelves of unused big and small canvases, all sorts of art materials neatly placed and organized, with the man's silly personality of individually colored beanbags to sit on, and nets filled with all kinds of plushies and toys. it felt like a dream house for an art child really. dried used paint splattered about here and there on the walls and floor adding color to the bright white room.

"still breathtaking for you, birdy? i thought it would still be boring even doing some minor edits here and there." tsb scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment noticing tari's positive expressive expression as she glanced the place up and down, side to side.

"are you kidding? how could i not be? any normal person would find this breathtaking! your place is an absolute dream house, tsb! it's bright, cozy, colorful, and a playground of endless creative creation! i can't get over how you can manage to create this all yourself! very impressive!" tari exclaimed, as her smile stretched up to her cheeks, really absorbing and giving a twirl around the space. excitement fueled her as he bounced about exploring the other familiar areas and all of its satisfying gleam of bright colors. it felt like she truly was up in the clouds or a figment of what she felt was a physical imagination of heaven.

tsb could only watch and giggle from the side. his heart was pounding in glee seeing the bluejay prance about in joy, admiring the work of art he's created for himself to call home. he felt an over beamed of satisfied joy he endlessly craved being appreciated. especially from her. a compliment from anyone would've still been appreciated of course, yet hearing those words coming from her felt like he could die at any moment. and he wouldn't mind.

after some time of tari exploring the area admiring all the nooks and crannies of tsb's dream-like treehouse, tsb finally directed tari to his bedroom. a place he... coming to the realization he had never shown her before up until now. the first time smg4 interrupted them cutting their time short, and other visits were with other guests visiting to do arts and crafts or play board games. yet this was the first since her first visit it was just the two of them. tsb grew nervously anxious as he tiled the sun-shaped knob of his door, allowing entry to the girl he admired most. it was just his room and he truthfully had nothing to hide, yet it was still nerve-racking for him, pondering about her opinion.

"t-this is my room-" before tsb could even continue to create a proper introductory description, tari jolted up in joy, squealing in glee rushing inside to admire the new room, eager to explore. it had the same vibe and aesthetic as the main entrance room, the entire treehouse quite frankly, yet this room specifically was more in the theme of tsb's main colors. yellow and blue! additionally, instead of the walls being painted or scattered with paint, they were filled with drawings drawn on paper of different mediums taped onto the wall.

entering the room revealed tsb's bed, filled with drawings of rainbows and clouds above as seen the theme all over the place. the bed is cuffed below of soft felted cloud-shape border with a uniquely colored placed rainbow for a bed frame. to the right side of the wall was a large window viewing of the sky, and next to it a tall dresser. accompanied by the wall where the door was placed, was filled with drawings she could recognize were drawn from her friends. boopkins, luigi, heck even some dumb doodles from smg3 she recalled tsb telling the tale of them hanging out one night.

the last wall to the left side of the room erupted with colors of different shades of green and brown. taken aback coming to the realization tsb's home lacked the color green almost entirely, let alone any color of brown other than the "disguise" from the exterior. illustrations of trees, squirrels, and small rodents, and what she could make out looked like a television. causing a shiver down her spine being reminded of mr. puzzles, yet these looked nothing like him. furthermore, they looked the same tv of a design with a nice chestnut brown with a cyan-like blue screen. some with hearts, some crossed out even wrinkled, and others... tari stared at it in confusion. she assumed it was an interesting relation due to tsb heavy interest in cartoon shows, he would watch several frequently with mario. however, something inside her told her it meant something else. as if it linked to-

"soooo what do you think, bluejay?" tsb queried, interrupting tari's thoughts. to the bluejay's surprise, he was resting on his bed in a crisscross position with his hands questionably behind his back slightly awkwardly.

"oh! i-it's awesome!" she quickly responded, trying to rid herself pondering over the mystery of this "tv". "i don't recall you ever showing me your room before. what gives! trying to hide more secrets?" she confidently spoke back, removing any possible suspicion. taking a seat next the the cartoony man.

"noo, of course not! just something i suppose i hadn't had the time to show you till now." tari rolled her eyes playfully trying to seem hurtful by his response. tsb giggled.

suddenly, he began to clear his throat, straightening his back, and shifting closer to tari with a slight struggle refusing to use his hands for support. however, fear rose inside as he wondered if he was too close to the bluejay, but she didn't seem bothered and instead mimicked his actions. receiving another giggle from the man feeling his face grow hot. "i uh," tsb began, "i have a gift for you! um..." tsb slowly unhidden his hands to reveal a bird-like figure in his palms. tari began to decipher it being a hand-crafted bluejay figure with a neatly small bowtie around its neck. yet she was utterly confused and speechless, it allowed tsb to continue his monologue. "i'm... not very good at making something supposedly grand like parties or cakes, for someone's orbit around the sun, but i do like handcrafting things for people i... um... admire most." tsb confident outward speech turned to stutters and quiet speech seemingly looking down as he could feel his hands sweat under his golden gloves. "i hope you like this gift-"

"of course i do!~" tari finally bursted into squeals having her hands turn to fists positioned up to her face in an attempt to hide her overly joyous smile. shifting her position to admire the beautifully hand-crafted bluejay more up-close. "it's so cute!~" she squealed once more feeling like she could feel herself almost cry from overstimulated happiness. "how did you use to make it?" she queried swiftly, staring at tsb's shades, eyes wide with sparks of adoration.

tsb only stuttered to find the words, his face growing hotter by the second hearing the beats of his pounding heart inside his ears. "i-i used cardboard to create the base of the shape... and um gluing layers of newspaper to give some texture... a-after painting it with acrylic- nO gouache a-a-and reusing some old thick ribbon i had in my scrapes to gave it a bow!" swiftly adding in the end, "y-you know! because it's a gift! cause it you're birthday! a-and purple to match your eyes! b-because your eyes are purple! oH and this is a bluejay, not a duck i-i-i-im not sure if that was obvious um-"

"it's perfect.~" tari softly interjected, cupping tsb's hands and lowering them down from their chests. "it's adorable of you think of me like that. i've never received a gift like this before... it exactly represents me and considering the thoughts you had i seriously appreciate the effort you put in. it's," tari couldn't help but giggle.

before tsb could muster to search for words to say thank you, tari kissed tsb on the cheek. "it's really cute. thank you.~" shots of physical cloud of air flew out of tsb's ears, face even red than the color red itself, stunned and completely flustered he sat there frozen. tari once again giggled seeing the clouds of smoke coming out of their ears like a real-life cartoon, yearning to see what more of a reaction she can get. she was always fascinated by tsb's strange cartoonish nature she just simply adored him more and more. nothing about him could ever bore her. 

just if by instinct, she removed her hands from tsb and reached out to remove tsb shades. settling it down by the bed, gazing admirably into his brown eyes as they were shifting animatedly to pink hearts back and forth. "t-tari-" tsb started, but was unfortunately cut off by someone outside. turning his eyes into pupils with red outlines from surprise.

"tari!" a familiar voice called, "TARI!" smg4 called again louder.

"smg4 must have the party essentials ready. we should go till he gets impatient hehe!" tari stood up from the bed grabbing the bluejay gift with one hand while the other grabs for the cartoon man's glove. 

"y-yeah..." he replied, still stunned by what happened. eventually after a soft tug from tari, he regained his senses and threw back his shades on. springing off the bed and following tari out of his room. 

"you think there'll be cake left after mario gets to it first?" tsb asked.

tari chuckled, "i doubt it." 

END

[1-800-deactivatednearu]

woag character design notes

[i.d.: a drawn line up of the half life vr ai characters, from left to right, gordon, dr. coomer, tommy, bubby, gman, and benrey. /end i.d.]

yeah i skipped some guys , i dont draw some of them enough to have much unique designs and some of them are a png of a dog

trust me i am just surprised as the rest of yall that i am doing hlvrai art . design notes below (very long, mind your step)

gordon:

wow this guy dont got no head

i didnt want to give gordon a face because of how unexact the person is as the fandom engages with it. is it wayne rtvs? (well as presented to an audience, yes) is it gordon freeman? (well as seen from an in game perspective, yes) is it a whole new guy entirely? (well as

i cut the confusion and took it a whole new direction: guillotine

hlvrai being treated as a very broken game is fun to me as a design perspective, so if you (the audience) are not supposed to see his face, what happens when you see it anyways? missing texture time

there are eyes drawn over because i did not have confidence in my expressions at first and then it grew on me

i think if i were to draw (and i have drawn) an actual person under the mask i would still censor the eyes because that is where the vr headset sits!!

(i do not like putting an actual flesh to gordon though)

though i really like seeing how other people interpret gordon hlvrai it is not . my gordon ? we are talking about the same guy . but this is my gordo . i made this one . this guy my guy . maybe i should draw other gordon designs

i can draw the hev suit from memory and it is also the entire reason why i can render metal confidently

i liked how people changed the lambda to read ai :] i also have no clue if i wrote the lambda correctly

(i did, i just checked)

dr coomer:

as much as i draw/drew him i find it more fun to not stick to one set design :)

so a lot of my takes on dr coomer tend to jump from idea to idea, especially from what other people are doing, though they could be fitted to the left and right designs!

the left design is mainly based off what i saw in fandom spaces

we see rounder shapes, making for a more friendly and welcoming appearance

i think of this as straying from the more professional uniform of the actual scientist models

enter swimming shorts and bright yellow socks, for some reason

so now he kind of looks like a cool science teacher :)

it might be the lab coat

the right design is mainly based off thumbnails for hlvrai itself

these use a more angular appearance

i want to push how comically buff he is because of strength he shows at times, especially since his left design seems to completely down play it as a comically not buff man who is still very strong

the shadows on right design coomer get so much more harsh and exaggerated because i have comic books on the mind :)

he really does look like a dehydrated comic book character huh

tommy:

stick bug (he gets it from his dad) (this thought process is explained at gman section)

i pushed a lot of the saturation of colours in her design because i think tommy gets to be a little silly with it

fun art story of the day! when you color, try messing with hue! you might notice you can get away with a lot as long as your values are about right

i like pushing this with white because you can get away with a lot of things reading as “off white”

old faithful for me is cool shadows with a warm transition colour to keep things visually interesting

i keep making white objects the trans flag

happy pride

tommys design looks a little like a school boy, with the tucked in button up shirt+suspenders+shorts+jacket tied around the waist . and the primary colours . but like it is really fun to dress up so brightly

i actually was strongly inspired by medieval babies if that is a weird descriptor? i wanted him to both be a middle aged man but also a young adult

do not be like tommy, who has their finger on the trigger of the gun while not even looking at where it is pointing and good god he is squeezing the trigger . top ten firearm safety of all time

bubby:

the absurd part is that i think bubby is tall . he is just between tommy and gman who are exaggeratedly lanky .

i wanted to make bubby a pointy kinda guy, so he is the only one actually wearing the lab coat proper . and the only one actually wearing dress socks but not even wearing dress shoes

i wanted to give him a novelty tie but i was running low on ideas and running high on boreds so we dont get a tie

he does have crocs though!! in attack mode!!

i do think we all kind of saw his model and collectively decided it works for him because i have honestly not seen major divergences from his model?

gman:

stick bug

i wanted to stress the more spooky and unknowable nature of him and took it in the dark souls direction of “make bigger than player character”

maked too bigger

he cannot walk through any doorways but you will have to crane your neck to look up at him

in the opposite direction of tommy, i pulled a lot of the saturation in gmans design

it feels important to make them both not fully match the rest of the slightly less broken npcs because there was so much work to make them look cool so i have to respect that

actually a lot of gmans and tommys designs are made in opposite to one another

gman has a largely stationary face and very stiff line work

while tommy is pushed to expressive as possible

thats pretty fun, way to go me

benrey:

benrey also has two designs

and in both of these i keep getting too lazy to use a reference so  the vests are super plain (forgetting the badge and black mesa logo) . i think the helmet is supposed to be darker actually .

the design ethos of benrey was “built like a brick shithouse”

a friend of mine took this cooler and interpreted it as a shield/wall/barrier as a physical (and narrative) obstacle

again the first uses fandom designs

most notably the overcast shadow (seen in video thumbnails but i never noticed it or understood why so many people did it until someone pointed it out to me)

i think hlvrai is such a great medium because it acknowledges it is a game and is able to play into that to great effect! i think the shadow is fun to imagine as solid black as a small reminder of the impossibility of the space :]

benrey is a smug cat in the body of a human . to be honest . and this is the full range of emotion i have ever drawn him with

the second was mostly because as fun as taking creative liberties are, i just really wanted to see benrey as is: the half life security guard model in all its slight wonk :]

i actually do prefer this design . it is a little more uncanny because i choose the worst translations of the model . i like it because it is a little more uncanny !

that can be said for like . every single design in this line up huh .

[robinsno1lesbian]

Okay, I LOVE me some bold, confident Robin...

...but what about shy, blushy, I-live-in-a-small-town-so getting-it-on-with-another-girl-is-impossible-I'm-still-amazed-this-is-happening Robin's first time with an equally excited and inexperienced reader? It's sweet and cute and awkward, but then holy shit you get to be each other's first experience getting touched by someone other than yourself 🫣🫣🫣 I'm WEAK

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒, 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒, 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 - 𝐑.𝐁.

robin buckley x fem!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4730

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content (MDNI), maybe a bit of internalized as well as period typical homophobia, is soft smut a thing?, first time, virginity loss, inexperienced!robin x inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering (fem!receiving obviously), let me know if i missed anything <3

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: no because you're so right anon! here's my take on that, i hope you like it! also thank you so much for 300 followers!! i'm so thankful for your support on here so have a 4k word robin x reader smut in return lmao

you can't help yourself but watch her from the corner of your eye. her bangs are falling into her eyes, it is something that has caught your attention a lot lately: the way she always tries to get them out of her face and the way her hair is way too stubborn with her. there are a lot of things that have caught your attention lately, especially when it comes to robin buckley. you do those silly little things: catch yourself daydreaming about her in class or sketching her features on the side of your worksheet rather than working on them. hell, you've been counting her freckles the other day and only stopped because she had snapped you out of it herself. if you didn't know any better, you'd say you're hopelessly in love with her. except that can't be...right? because she's a woman and you can't be in love with a woman. you're not supposed to be in love with a woman. and yet this is what it is supposed to feel like, from what you've heard: the way your stomach twists in a way that tickles through your whole body whenever she looks at you or is already staring whenever you turn back during your shared shifts simply can't be anything other than that. regardless of what you've heard, the things you feel whenever she is around are allconsuming. you try to think of the things people on TV claim. you really try to get yourself together, to keep your eyes glued on a bunch of boys that walk by in the hallway just like all of your friends do. but all of this is forgotten the minute you lay eyes on her. love, you sometimes (in rare moments of clarity) find yourself thinking, isn't supposed to be what oppresses you or chains you down. it's supposed to be free and you've only ever felt free, truly free, around robin. maybe that's why you can't stop watching her now. summer has chosen to come early this year and the heat is already on the verge of being unbearable in late may. she's sitting on your bed, legs crossed and back bent over a book that's open on her leg. she's using a bright yellow marker to highlight important paragraphs, her lip tugged between her front teeth as she works in concentration.

yet again, you can't stop yourself from watching, admiring her from afar like you always do.

she is in a pair of shorts and a tank top she has taken from your closet. it's not her style, white and lacy, and yet it still looks great on her. usual, maybe, but breathtaking nonetheless, emphasizing the curves of her body that are normally hidden from the view underneath a layer of baggy clothing. you're grateful that you get to see her like this. "you're doing it again" her raspy voice snaps you back to reality and she speaks without even looking up from the text. "huh?" you raise a brow and tilt your head "what?" robin looks up from her book and drums the pen against her thigh a couple of times before she answers. "you're staring" she doesn't say it as if it was something that bothers her. she sounds so...sweet, maybe? "oh uhm-" your mind is racing with possible things to answer in return. you always have plenty to say, but right now, your normally busy and loud brain fails you when you need it the most. "i was just thinking" you mumble eventually. robin thinks about this for a second, shrugs, and focuses on her book again. "you do that a lot lately, don't you?" "there's a lot to think about" you say and she grins. "like what?" "dunno..." you shake your head and laugh softly "i guess my mind has been really full of thoughts lately" that catches robin's attention. she closes the book and turns so that she's facing you. her leg almost brushes yours. almost. you find yourself longing for that brief brush of skin, wishing she would lean in just a tiny bit more, just enough for that. "you know you can talk to me, right y/n?" as if she's been reading your mind, robin reaches out and puts a palm to your knee. your breath hitches in your throat and you fake a cough to cover it. you don't know what has gotten into you or why you choose to do what you do. but something in you finally gives you the strength to speak.

"robin have you ever...felt like, i don't know, genuinely, fundamentally different?" a smirk creeps up her cheeks. "all the time" she says.

"no but- i mean- not just in a way that you don't...i don't know..." you do know. what you really want to ask her is if she has ever felt the way you do every single day. if she ever wanted to kiss another woman, if she ever wanted to do more than just that too. "hey" she traces circles over your damp skin "is there something you want to talk about y/n?" you look up and her eyes meet yours. it almost seems like her pupils blow just a little bit wider at the sudden eye contact. you've never seen the ocean, have lived your whole life in this tiny town of hawkins, but you're certain that that's the colors of the waves that meet the shore.

perhaps another time you would've looked away and blushed. but robin is tilting her head sideways and has this sweet look on her entire face that has made you want to kiss her a hundred times before. only this time it is different. you know you're running out of time; it is only a matter of time until you will go separate ways, robin to europe and you to some god-forsaken college your parents have picked out for you. you know that if you don't do it now, you won't ever. and so you do it, against all odds. slowly, you reach out and place a strand of hair -one that's been bothering her all this time- behind her ear. her skin feels so soft under your touch that you can't help yourself but exhale slowly. just when you want to withdraw your hand, your touch already lingering for a bit too long, robin grabs your wrist and holds it there. "don't" she whispers. your palm meets her cheek and suddenly you're holding her face and she's leaning into your hand.

robin turns her face in your palm in a way that allows her lips to brush over it. your heartbeat picks up its pace when she starts kissing the heel of your hand, leaving you completely breathless. you watch her in complete awe and bite your lip at the sight in front of you. "robin..." you murmur and gently pull her a little bit closer, not enough for her to actually move forward, but just enough for her to feel your suggestive movement. she follows suit immediately and starts leaning in closer. closer and closer until her lips are almost touching yours. her breath meets your skin in short, hot puffs that send shivers down your spine. robin's eyes are fixated on your lips and you let all fear fall away. instead, you say "can i kiss you?". robin doesn't answer. instead, she grabs your face in a desperate manner and closes the little bit of distance that is left between you. her lips feel soft, that's the first thing you notice. and then your other senses start picking up on it too: she smells like summer; of the layer of sunscreen she must've applied in the morning and of the hawkins summer air that surrounds you. she tastes like chapstick and shared lemonade. robin leans back faster than you want her too, doesn't stay for more than one quick kiss. "h-holy shit y/n i'm- did you- i mean- was that okay?" you smile. "more than okay robin but...can we...can we do that again?" the excitement practically sparks in her eyes when you ask that but she nods immediately. "i would love nothing more" she scrambles up and bumps into you in the process of getting closer so that she's pressing you further into the pillows on your bed. you gasp but it turns into laughter against her lips when she pretends it never happens and puts her lips on yours again. she misses your lips though, kissing your front teeth due to your laughing. "stop laughing" she chuckles against your mouth "i'm trying to kiss you" "my bad" you grin and wrap your arms around her, caging her in like that "try again". this time she doesn't miss and you're not a giddy mess either. this time, she really kisses you. one arm remains around her shoulder while your other hand holds her cheek and robin kisses you deeper. you stay like this for a while. she tilts her head experimentally every now and then and moves your face with her index too. it's much more than an awkward peck; you can feel the length of her body on yours, your legs dangling together on your bed despite the heat, and just when you think it couldn't possibly get any better, robin parts her lips and licks along your bottom lip, waiting for you to let her in. you gasp, slightly surprised but thrilled to see where this might go. you gladly allow her to lick into your mouth, parting your lips like she has done before. it's a new sensation, one that neither of you is really used to. the velvet of her tongue against your own tickles past your lips and into your mouth. that's when you feel it for the very first time: the tingling sensation that starts somewhere in your lower belly and pools between your thighs. hungry for more, you arch your back up and try to press her further against you. robin groans and the noise has the exact same effect on you as your current makeout session.  "robin" you manage when she leans back to take a breath in.  her brows narrow and she looks down at you. "are you okay? is this okay? do you want to stop?"  "no!" you exclaim, maybe a bit too fast but robin just grins at that. "i mean- no. i just...touch me, please" "touch you?" she raises a brow "are you sure? i mean are you sure that you want this? i've never-"  you shake your head gently "i haven't either robin...but i am sure. i want this. i want you"  she gives you the sweetest smile and nods slowly.  "but, just so we're clear" she runs a hand through her hair, giving you time to admire just how pretty she looks like this: slightly golden in the sunlight and lips plump from the previous kisses. "we can stop anytime, okay?" 

"i won't want to stop" you whisper and she looks down at you in what looks like slight surprise but also amazement.  "well we don't have to" she shrugs and earns a giggle from you.  "just come here and kiss me already"  that she'll gladly do. she leans down again and kisses your lips. this time, she slips her tongue past your lips immediately, but it is soft and passionate nonetheless.  she kisses you slowly, just like you need it right now and her fingers link with yours so that she is holding both of your hands with her own while she is kissing you.  you smile against her and you can feel her returning the gesture, you don't even have to open your eyes to know.  "take off my clothes" you breathe into her open mouth.  so her fingers run up your body until they reach the collar of your shirt, where she starts fumbling with the buttons.  her kisses grow uncoordinated and you lean back.  "damn it" she curses, struggling to undo the very first button.  "hey" you reach out and wrap your fingers around her wrists "hey it's okay, let me help"  robin looks into your eyes as you help her and open the shirt for her. she sits up slowly, eyes filled with disbelief that this sight is really revealing to her.  she runs a hand through her hair once more and her jaw drops when you finish the final button.  "like what you see?" you chuckle and watch robin through heavy lashes. 

"god you could say that" she groans and shifts her weight back onto your thighs. 

you sit up against your many pillows and push the fabric off of your shoulder, leaving you in nothing but a soft, lacy bra.  you blush under her watchful eye and fight back to urge to hide from her. she must notice the way you look away from her because she gently brushes a finger over your cheek and down to your chin, lifting your gaze upon her.  "you're so beautiful, y/n" she murmurs. "so beautiful" 

you bring your own hands to her waist, squeezing the dip just above her hips slightly before you tug on the top that belongs to you.  "can i...?"  robin bites her lips and reaches out herself, pulls it over her head and then throws it over her shoulder carelessly.  she is wearing a black bra and her chest is covered in freckles. you've always wondered whether the thin layer of freckles would continue below the collar of each of her shirts but you would've never expected that you would actually get to see it.  you lean your head back and she gets the sign.  robin leans down and kisses you softly, her hands roaming your sides. you start exploring her body too, shily at first.  you move your palms over the swell of her breasts, just the ghost of a touch before you let them wander lower.  she shudders when you touch her there and you gasp softly in return. your hands run up her back again and stumble upon the clasp of her bra.  you look up from her chest and she is nodding already, giving you an answer to the unspoken questions.  you unclasp it slowly, making sure she has time to comprehend it, before you pull it off of her entirely.  and, god, she is beautiful.  your breath hitches in your throat and you shamelessly gape at her chest.  "like what you see?" robin grins, stealing the line you've used on her before.  "oh shut up robin, you're- you're gorgeous"  you keep looking at her and take your own bra off as well, getting you into an equal state of undressing.  she inhales sharply and strokes over your bare shoulders, her thumbs pressing into your skin softly.  "can i touch you?" when you nod, she brings both of her hands up to hold your breasts. you exhale shakily, feeling this new kind of touch on yourself.  this is all so new, so sweet.  a mix of shy touches and soft noises of approval.  you're so happy that you get this with robin. that she is the one out of all people that does this for you. with you.  her thumbs brush over your nipples and you arch your back forward involuntarily, a quiet moan drawn from your lips by her.  "oh you like that?"  your eyes fall shut and you nod, your lips forming a silent 'o'. she repeats the motion applying just the right amount of pressure that it feels even better than before.  "j-just like that robin" you moan. robin smiles, obviously pleased with the reaction she got out of you.  she leans forward again, her hips jerking against your leg as she moves.  "fuck-"  "what?" your eyes snap open, slightly alarmed. but robin's expression doesn't look like one to be alarmed about. her eyes have fallen shut and her mouth is agape.  that is when you realize that your thigh sits right against her center.  "oh" you breathe out and she opens a single eye to look at you.  she looks absolutely heavenly like this and, to test something, you flex the muscles in your thigh against her, eager to get a reaction out of her.  robin's lashes flutter and her lips part at the same time as her head drops back in pleasure.  "oh my god" she rasps "oh my god"  "does that- feel good?" you ask her and put both of your hands on her hips.  she nods to confirm it and gives her hips a couple of experimentally rolls forward, dragging them over the length of your leg. you watch in awe when the first actual moans fall from her lips. her normally low and raspy voice has this new, high-pitched tone to it that you've never heard before but from which you know that you need more of it.  after some time, robin leans her forehead down against yours. she brings a hand to the back of your head to keep you close to her and her open mouth is brushing over your own, parted lips. her hot breathing and the quiet, shy moans that occasionally erupt from her send the same tingling sensation down your body.  this is great already, better than you would've ever imagined, but you know you need more.  and robin does too.  "robin" you whisper and she stops her movements immediately.  "yeah?" she breathes "are you okay?"  you smile at how considerate she is with you, how attentive. 

"more than okay i just- i wanna see you"  "oh"  "yeah, oh" you bite your lip "is that okay?" robin grins and shifts backward, away from your legs so that she can get herself out of the shorts she's wearing.  you laugh softly when she struggles with the zipper and tries to kick them off her long legs.  eventually, she gets out of them and throws them down the bed to kneel in front of you.  "can we- uh- try something?" she asks, a shy blush on her cheeks.  when you nod, she takes your hand in hers and pulls you up so that you're both kneeling in front of each other.  you don't miss the way her eyes fall upon your chest, as if she still can't fully believe that all of this is really happening.  her hand is still locked with yours when she holds it against the valley between her breasts.  you gasp when you feel her heartbeat against your palm.  "i want you to touch me" she speaks carefully and tilts her head to search your eyes for any doubts. "and i want to touch you too"  you bite your lip at the thought of this and nod your head. "please" her fingers find the hem of your skirt and, while her eyes are still on yours, she pushes it down your legs so that it is pooling around your knees. she leaves it there before her fingers trace up your thighs slowly.  you involuntarily spread your legs wider for her, which robin can only smile about.  when her index reaches your clothed center, you watch her attentively: her mouth falls open when she feels the patch of arousal that has formed on your panties from her previous actions.  "fuck, you're wet" she gasps.  at those words, you feel yourself clenching around nothing and your facial expression because a reflection of robin's own: lips parting and eyes heavy with a kind of lust you've never felt before.  judging by the look on her face, she has felt it against her fingertips.  "touch me" she says and you do as you're told.  you try to copy robin's movements, a hand between her thighs when you cup her through the fabric.  that is when you get what she has meant by that: you can feel her wetness, damp through the underwear.  you can also feel her against each of your fingers that are firmly pressing against her. 

"y/n" robin moans softly and her head falls back slightly.  you feel her pushing your panties aside slowly and you do the exact same for her, removing the last bits of clothing out of the way that is separating you from touching her the way you desperately want to.  the moan she draws from your lips when she starts circling your clit is something you should probably feel embarrassed about, but robin's eyes are beaming at the noise.  she doesn't want you to hide, she wants to hear you.  robin tilts her head again, as if she's asking something from you, and then presses down against your clit slightly harder.  "god, robin" you moan and your head falls forward against her shoulder.  "it's okay" she whispers and runs her free hand into your hair "it's o- oh"  regardless of how turned on your are, you can't help but grin when she moans at the sudden touch of your index and middle finger on either side of her clit, rubbing over it how you would do it if you were touching yourself. it seems to be working for her too.  she starts picking up the pace of her own fingers in sync with your movements, rubbing gentle, clockwise circles around your clit.  your legs are shaking already and you keep your head against robin's shoulder, muffling the soft moans in her hair and neck.  you can feel how wet she is against your digits, proof that you really are making her feel good like this.  occasionally, you dip your fingers down lower, where all of her wetness if pooling. you consider taking it one step further, but you find yourself being too shy to ask. instead, you gather her slick on your fingers and draw it back up to her clit.  at one particular good stroke, robin reaches for your chin and moves your head away from its hiding spot so that you're looking at her.  she's taller than you, even like this, and you have to look up slightly.  she looks gorgeous, even more than she normally does: her eyelids are heavy, mouth agape and her chest is rising and falling rapidly.  "y/n..."  "hm?"  her fingers wander lower and you gasp.  "can...can i?"  you smile softly and copy her motions, a singular finger toying at her entrance. her eyes widen slightly and somewhat of a whine comes past her lips.  "please"  you're both staring into the other's eye when she pushes her middle finger into you at the same time as you do the same for her.  the moans that fall from your lips mix with hers, creating a sweet noise that echoes through the room. thank god you're home alone.  "oh fuck, robin...robin..." you babble, your hips jerking forward over and over to chase the delicious feeling "more".  robin withdraws her finger slowly, until only the very tip of it is still inside of your aching cunt and then pushes it right back inside you, adding a second one along.  "oh my god" you cry out. you've never made such a noise when you were touching yourself. this is s much better than anything you have ever felt.  robin's own walls seem to somehow tighten around your finger, which reminds you that you have that same effect on her.  you curl your middle finger forward slightly and robin's eyes roll back in her head.  "please" she whimpers "god- just like that- feels so so good fuck-"  you thrust into her a couple of times until you add a second finger as well.  robin, regardless of the fact that she is getting fucked this good by you, never stops the movements of her own fingers inside of your cunt.  her fingers are longer than yours, just slightly but enough for you to feel the difference; she is reaching depths that you were never able to reach on your own.  when she mirrors your motion and curls them up against that certain spot, you moan out her name loudly.  the thrusts alone feel incredible but when she begins hitting your g-spot, it takes things to a whole new level of pleasure. 

"k-kiss me" you mutter between moan and whimpers caused by her fingers.  robin does as you asked her to, pulls you in so that your chests are bumping together and smashes her mouth of yours.  the shyness from earlier is gone, replaced by want and lust for you.  soon enough, your tongues are moving together in sync, lips meeting over and over again until they feel almost sore. 

the combination of all of these things causes a knot to form in your lower abdomen. you know exactly what'll happen once this knot snaps and, truth be told, you can't wait to cum all over robin's fingers.  but you also know it'll take just the slightest bit more for you to actually cum.  "r-robin" you shudder when she leans back slightly. there's a string of saliva connecting your lips. part of you wants to be disgusted, but instead, it only turns you on. "can you- oh god, fuck-" it feels so good, you can hardly get the words out. "can you...rub my clit? please? i think- ah- i think i'm close"  she listens to everything with a half-curious, half-lustfilled expression and nods. robin doesn't stop with the wonders, that her fingers are working inside of you though. she uses her thumb to find your clit, all while she is pumping her index- and middle finger into you, and rubs it gently, just like you asked her to.  "holy shit- right there! right there!" you manage and your head falls back.  your breathing becomes high-pitched and rapid and every muscle in your body is focused on what she is doing, on moving against her to chase your orgasm.  robin seems to understand and starts rubbing your clit faster, adding pressure at the right points too.  with that and the fact that she pulls you in again to squeeze your breast, robin pushes you closer and closer to the edge.  you manage to find robin's clit with your thumb too, though it takes you slightly longer to do so but robin doesn't seem to mind, way too caught up in the way your digits curl up inside of her.  "robin...fuck i- oh-"  you can't even finish what you were gonna say, your whole body tenses up in pleasure and you feel your orgasm in each and every nerve.  you sob out a moan that dies in your throat when everything becomes hot and you see stars from the pleasure.  robin reaches her height shortly after and her body tenses up against yours, her eyes roll back and her fingers tighten in your skin.  both of your thighs shake around the other's hand and you cum around her fingers, coating them in your release.  when the wave of pleasure slowly fades, you open your eyes.  robin is still recovering herself, but she has come down enough to watch you. a smile is toying along her lips.  "holy shit" she breathes eventually.  "yeah" you say with a lighthearted laugh.  "did you- i mean- was that okay?" and you can hardly believe your own eyes but she blushes as if she hasn't just made you cum better and harder than ever.  "that was more than okay robin, fuck"  regardless of that fact, she sighs as if in relief.  "would you- would you mind if- i- would you like to go out...? sometime?"  despite your situation, you can't help yourself but laugh breathlessly.  "robin buckley" you exclaim "are you asking me out on a date while you're still inside of me?"  her eyes widen slightly, as if that part has already been forgotten and you laugh a little bit more.  once you have both fully recovered, you lay her down on your bed and put your head on her shoulder and she links your fingers together.  somehow, it is not odd at all. it's almost like it was always supposed to be like this.  "so" she says after some time.  "so" you repeat.  "about earlier...i would really, really like to take you out on a date"  you smile and tilt your head so you can look at her properly.  "i would really, really like that too"

[justfangirlstuffs]

A Saltwater Room

Part 3 featuring @scarredlove's Sea Slug AU boys. :D

Part 1 here, Part 2 here.

Wordcount: 2055

As you slept you had strange dreams. Dreams of being underwater yet somehow able to breathe. Dreams of hands gently cradling you and bright eyes peering at you through the darkness, dreams of being wrapped up in warmth and softness. And any time you felt scared, soft gentle words of comfort were murmured into your ears, allowing you to sink further and further into restful slumber.

Sunlight pressed against your eyelids and you groaned. You didn't want to wake up. You just wanted to stay wrapped up in the warmth of your bed sheets... except... how was the sunlight getting in? Didn't you close the curtains? Something shifted against you, and you very quickly realized you were not alone. And you were not in bed, and these were not your bed sheets.

Blinking your eyes into focus, you found yourself wrapped up in curtains and folds of reds and blues and golds. You were laying atop the yellow sea creature, their arms wrapped around your middle, while the blue one was loosely draped over your legs in a way that didn't hurt but kept you effectively pinned you in place. No wonder you were so warm; now that you were awake you could feel the soft hum of their bodies. They appeared to be fast asleep.

Taking in your surroundings you found yourself in a different sea cave. Much larger than the one you'd fallen asleep in. You were currently resting on a sandy shore that lead to the opening of the cave that had two wide arches looking out into endless ocean. Small waves gently lapped over the sand, trying their best to reach you but lacking the strength or motivation to get very far. Big mood, honestly.

Overhead, a large, jagged hole served as a skylight, letting the sunshine in but still keeping most of the cave in shade. A few large rocks sat in the center, probably perfect spots for sunbathing during certain times of the day. As your eyes roamed, you noticed a part of the cave seemed to go deeper, but you couldn't see too far in before it melded into blackness. Still, you couldn't help but be nervous that something might emerge from those shadows.

It then dawned on you that you were far too calm for this situation. You could feel your panic, your fears and anxiety, but it was like there was a layer of... something separating you from it, not allowing it to reach up and pulled you under. Or... maybe you were just so overstimulated from yesterday you just didn't have the energy to have another attack. Regardless, it was time to address the two sea creatures in the room with you.

“Um... hello?” You lightly nudged against them, trying to get them to wake up so you could have some freedom of movement.

They both stirred, the blue one arching their back as they stretched. Seeing you awake, they slithered off of you. The yellow one waited until you were fully sitting up in your bed of sand before also putting some respectable distance. Huh... okay... so far this was a lot... tamer than your first encounter with either of them.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” the yellow one asked, rubbing their hands fretfully. “When Moon brought you here, I was worried he might've been too late. You were so cold, I thought-”

“Moon?” you repeated, rubbing your head. Your eyes widened. “Wait... as in... Sun and Moon?”

Moon immediately perked up. “You remember us?”

Glancing between the pair of them, it suddenly clicked. No wonder they seemed so familiar and yet so unrecognizable. Because the last time you'd seen them, they were tiny slugs living in your aquarium, small enough to fit in your hand.

“But... you were...” You pointed to your hand. “And now you're...” You gestured vaguely at them.

“Mm, I suppose we do look a bit different,” Sun mused. “Though, to be fair, in such a small space we weren't able to really... stretch our legs, so to speak.”

A bit different. Understatement of the century if there ever was one. Still... you couldn't believe that they were actually here. You thought you'd lost them forever years ago. Your family had been getting ready to move, and you were taking one last stroll with them, in the little aquatic carrying case you had made so you could take them with you whenever you had to leave the house. If they wanted to, of course.

However, your jerk of a cousin stole them from you and you'd chased him, trying to get them back. Then the idiot dropped them into the river that opened out into the ocean. You tried so hard to save them. You cut your hands and knees open on rocks trying to get to them in time, but the ocean stole them away, along with your blood and the tears you cried. You remember being so distraught that you had sulked for weeks afterwards. You'd lost your three best friends, yet no one seemed to understand how much they meant to you. When your parents offer to get you new slugs, you had refused, because how could you possibly replace them?

“Have you been here this whole time?” you asked them.

“Mm, here and there,” Sun answered vaguely. He reached forward and gave you a small boop on the noise. “Looking for you.”

“Waiting for you,” Moon added, his hands worrying the front ruffles of his robes. “Sorry for scaring you. Just... missed you.”

“I might have been a little... hasty as well,” Sun admitted, fingers toying with one of his rays. “I was just so happy. I apologize.”

They... had been looking for you all this time? All these years? What had they been getting up to? Had they gotten lonely? It must have been so scary for them, for their world to explode in such an abrupt and unexpected manner. But at least it seemed like they'd been able to adapt in a way that helped them to survive. Plus, the fact that they were apologizing for their behavior, however well-intentioned it was, really meant a lot.

“So, wait, if you two are here, then where is...” The sentence died in your throat as the pair's eyes widened and a large shadow suddenly loomed over you.

Turning around, your heart leapt up into your throat, clogging up any words you might have said. If these really were your Sun and Moon, then there was no doubt who this could be. Eclipse was so very tall. Taller than the other two. His robes were a deep midnight black laced with gold, adorned with bright yellow polka dots that gleamed with light. Like Sun, he had a halo of appendages around his face that were reminiscent of rays, only more elaborate. Golden yellow eyes shined down at you, his expression unreadable.

Wordlessly he knelt down, one of his large hands reaching out to gently stroke your hair. “Are you all right?” His voice was a gentle rumble, like distant thunder.

“Y-yeah,” you mumbled. “I think so.”

“Good,” he said. Then both of his hands were gripping your face, not harshly, but enough to get your attention as his face suddenly twisted in anger. “What the hell were you thinking?” Suddenly the thunder was not so distant anymore. “Wandering the beach after dark! Are you looking to get eaten?”

The unexpected admonishment cut you deeply and tears sprang up in your eyes. “Why are you yelling at me?” you squeaked.

Eclipse let you go looking panicked, clearly not having expected you to outright cry in the face of his ire.

“Nice going, idiot!” Moon chided, smacking Eclipse on the back of the head.

“I agree,” Sun muttered looking soured as well.

“Shut up! It's both of your faults they nearly died to begin with!” Then, to your amazement, Eclipse scruffed them both with each hand and threw them hand over hand into the water where they splashed, spraying droplets everywhere.

Moon make a few splashes and gargling sounds before playing dead, whilst Sun went full on theatrical mode. “Oh no! Whatever will I do? I need a beautiful strong pearl to save me from this dreadful predicament.” He glanced at you and winked.

A small snort left you, chased by a few giggles. You wiped the stray tears away with the back of your hand. Eclipse lightly touched your shoulder and you winced on reflex. His hand withdrew, his expression sullen but penitent.

“Sorry about that, Angelfish. I got carried away,” he muttered. “When those two brought you here, you were frozen, and your breathing was so slow.”

Shoot... had you really been that in danger of exposure? You gave a small shiver. “I don't do well with yelling,” you told him frankly. “But... it's nice that you cared, Eclipse.”

The use of his name got a reaction, as several of the colorful appendages around his face twitched as a smile spread over his visage. By this point, Sun and Moon were over their theatrics and had come back ashore to rejoin you. Though you noticed they were continuing to keep their distance, even though their expressions and the way they seemed to almost unconsciously gravitate towards you spoke volumes as to how much restraint they were exercising.

“Clip likes to act big and scary, but really he's the biggest softy of all of us,” Sun remarked with a wide grin.

“He's softer than a jellyfish,” Moon teased, poking at Eclipse's side. The latter gave a playful swipe at Moon who ducked away with a soft cackle.

The sight brought a grin to your face, warming your insides. The familiar way they acted, the way they teased and ribbed each other... they really were family. Even though Eclipse tried to act bothered, you were almost certain there was a fondness behind the irritation he was sporting. Gaud... seeing them all here stirred up so many memories, and your head felt so abuzz it was overwhelming. What was once so far off and distance now felt fresh and vivid as though just yesterday you'd been in your bedroom chatting happily away with them.

Suddenly, you were overwhelmed with the strongest urge to hug them, to hold them in a way you couldn't before. And yet... so much time had passed between then and now. You were different, and they were very different. Was it really okay for you to just... pick up where you last left off? Especially when you didn't know them anymore, not like this anyway. But... it would be so nice to have friends again. To have someone in your corner.

“So, what-” you began, however you were cut off as your stomach gave a monstrous growl that seemed to echo through the cave. The three of them stared at you and you were so embarrassed you wanted to hide your face in your hands.

“You're hungry,” Eclipse remarked. Not a question.

“I guess I shouldn't have skipped dinner,” you mumbled, rubbing your stomach.

“You WHAT?” he demanded. However, when you winced at his tone he clenched his fist and released a long heavy sigh. “Let's get you home.”

“Wait, but...” You glanced between the three of them. You still had so many questions.

“Go home, eat and rest,” Eclipse instructed firmly. He extended a hand, and you shyly took it. It was so large compared to your own, but it was soft, warm, and kind. He easily pulled you up onto your feet. “We can talk more later, once you've had time to...” He trailed off, as though searching for the right words.

“Process?” you supplied.

“Yes, that.” He pulled you closer, until you were only a breath apart from him. Your cheeks flushed at the proximity. “All you have to do is call for us, and we'll come find you.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Warmth bloomed from the spot as your heart thrummed in response. Then suddenly you started to feel very sleepy. You slumped against him, and his arms cradling you was the last sensation you felt before you passed out.