#it's...a tricky thing to balance

[elibean]

also we are at the halfway point and like, nothing substantial has happened

[letsmcfreackingloseit]

Hey-ho! I'm back again with some Apex Polarity art, but this time it's some designs for the humans' snow gear!

It started out with me just trying to figure out a design for y/n in my little comic, but then I thought it would be fun to also try and visualize the other humans, so here's my take of y/n, Vanessa and Michael! I really like how they turned out, although I don't think I got Vanessa's "patchwork" look quite right, but I still like where I landed. I added a blue scarf and I was really tempted to give her those red goggles, since it would've made her resemble Vanny even more, but in the end I desided against it.

So yeah- nothing too big this time, just something fun and easy!

But to round this off, I will of course credit the wonderful author @naffeclipse who is writing Apex Polarity, which you can go read if you click right here (can 100% recommend, especially if you like stories with a bunch of fluff, mystery and drama~!) and today I give credit to myself for the designs of the humans! ;P

[eldritch-circus-sillies]

Today, the hearts of furby lovers

Tomorrow, the WORLD

[pushing500]

I'm sure native folk of the far future will have plenty of landback and get to be connected with their homelands, but native folk spanned all the Americas. I'm sure Mechi speaks relatively regional to his tribe + how much time he spends connected to it, versus the rest of society (which, given his personality--). My mas from the south, so even though I was raised in the north, I still call her her ma (which is a bit more grown feelin than mama/momma), and slipping into her or my dads southern accents. It's especially pleasant in a long, 'But Mommaaaaaaa'. Hair style traditions also vary between tribes, but some embrace pan-indianism, meaning a lot of culture sharing in the modern era and likely future. I've taken to braiding my hair even though historically my people were more topknot oriented. | No shade on your presentation of native identity, its p tasteful, just infodump, because I didn't get to grow up In Touch with my tribe, so I've been doing studying. No need 2 post if it's hardly a question. I'll definitely send some questions.

I confess I was very nervous about trying to portray anybody who wasn't plain old caucasian white because I am very, very white, and I know that there are things I'll never understand about the experiences of being someone from another culture. I worried I'd do something wrong, but in the end, I thought it would be better to try and draw diverse people to the best of my ability and trust that if I did anything problematic or offensive, the internet would very quickly let me know in no uncertain terms.

I did a lot of research before I started drawing Mechi and planning his family and stuff. His name and all his family members' names are of Hopi origin, I believe. I saw a lot of traditional Hopi hairstyles while I was researching, and they were sooo gorgeous!! Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any RimWorld mods with traditional hairstyles, so the pawns wouldn't match any drawings I did if I used more traditional styles, which is why they all just have more generic long hair.

At the end of the day, though, RimWorld is set thousands of years in the future, and I'm pretty certain Mechi isn't even from Earth originally. He was likely born on some other urbworld. I just wanted to practice drawing people who weren't Caucasian, so I'm doing the best I can with what limited experience I have.

I do like the idea of Mechi calling Squashbug "Ma", though. Maybe he'll stick with that. It's very sweet, and easily solves my 'u' versus 'o' problem!

For anybody curious, Mechi's family names and their meanings ❤️

[headfullof-ideas]

More Vareekla

[viric-dreams]

Jones is the character I have with the most variable weight by far, and I realise a lot of the time I’m drawing him it’s when the narrative has it out for him personally and he hasn’t relaxed in weeks. I’m just so tired of that gaunt face. He’s rebounding in the new year, I swear.

[pynkhues]

yeah, I live in LA and it’s a huge issue here. The governor is trying to pass an extra 10-15% incentive to bring filming back, which should hopefully help quite a bit? It puts LA more in line with other major cities with incentives, I think. The pandemic and the strikes just really accelerated what was already happening because people assumed that filming would always happen in LA even without enough incentives.

I hope this doesn’t affect iwtv. I wouldn’t think they’d delay because all this tariff stuff is so unpredictable and vague, and changing everything to film in the US seems like it would be massively expensive. Plus, all the tariff stuff they’ve put out only mentions tariffs on movies, not tv shows. But yeah it would be nice if the president weren’t an idiot.

(x)

I hope it does help, anon, and thank you for your insight! Tax incentives really do seem to be the best way to attract production, and that 10-15% increase I think would bring it up to 30% from what I'm reading? Which is genuinely competitive. Australia's got one of the better global ones for production in that it's roughly 40% for films going to cinema, and 30% for everything else (TV, straight-to-streaming, etc.), although I know they're looking at adjusting some of that.

Co-production treatise are also significant, so I was really interested to read that that was one of the ideas being talked about by the industry (even if it sounds like this administration isn't going to move on it). The US has never really been involved in official co-productions - the whole idea of them was to give the rest of the world a chance to compete internationally, but they're also a form of soft-diplomacy to have countries creating art together. Australia's been doing them for decades, but it actually just signed a big one with India last year, and while a part of that is because Australia wants Bollywood to start shooting here (they actually do already, but this has formalised it), it's also absolutely working in-line with other trade incentives between the countries too to sort of grease the wheels, I guess, of soft diplomacy.

So yeah! I was just really interested to read that there seems to be quite a few LA producers wanting to get co-pro treatise up too, particularly when the tariffs are sort of the antithesis of what a co-production is and does.

But fingers crossed none of the tariff talk affects IWTV. With how quickly the government has already backflipped on some of it, hopefully it's not going to move ahead at all really anyway.

[noodyl-blasstal]

33... and you... and me

It's day 2 of @taznovembercelebration and today's prompt was "promise". I drew a second card and got "celebrity AU" so here's a mix of those. It's extra silly because what is taznc for if not to roll around in the ridiculousness?

You can find yesterday's here, and read this one below or on Ao3.

--

"I can't just slide into his dms and propose, you're being ridiculous." Kravitz flops back on the sofa, head in Sloane's lap. "Why'd he have to go and get famous and unobtainable?"

"Ah yes, it would be ridiculous, wouldn't it, for someone to get all famous without warning. Perhaps be some big shot that everyone wants as musical director."

Kravitz harrumphs. "I'm a big name to a very small group of people. It's not the same and you know it. Taako's on TV! Television!! He has live events! He signs things!! He has calendars, every year!!"

"You could have calendars every year if you just listened to my suggestio..."

"Sloane! I am not doing suggestive poses in my pants holding a baton. We've had this conversation an upsetting amount of times."

"Look Krav, I'm gay as hell, but I know excellent marketing when I think of it."

"Uh huh."

"But mostly, I know an excellent distraction when I think of one."

Kravitz is tumbling to the ground before he can do anything to counteract Sloane's shove. She's into the bathroom and has the door locked before he's back on his feet. Maybe he does need to take up yoga or something to help him fall and un-fall more gracefully.

"What’s going on?" Kravitz shouts through the door.

"I'm going through a tunnel, I can't hear you!" Sloane yells back.

"If you're ill you could have just said, do you need me to get you anything?"

"You can't be nice to me right now." Sloane has just enough guilt in her tone to indicate that this was, in fact, not a medical emergency.

"Sloane? What did you do?"

"What am I doING?" Sloane corrects.

"Sloane?" Kravitz tries not to let worry creep into his voice, he fails. Wait... No. No no no! Kravitz pats at his right pocket desperately, then the left just in case he stashed his phone there instead. Nothing. "Tell me you didn't?"

"What's that? Bad line, I can't hear you."

"Sloane!" The panic is there now, evident, front and centre, 100% justified.

There's no reply. Shit. Kravitz runs for his laptop, maybe if he just changes his password...

"I already changed it." Sloane hollers from the bedroom.

Kravitz changes tactic, tries for his emails.

"Sorry Krav, I changed that too."

"You don't even know what I'm doing."

"You're on your emails, you're predicable."

"Actually, I'm calling the police." Kravitz yells, petulant and stupid.

He can hear Sloane snorting with laughter from down the hall. She's never going to let him forget that one. Shit.

--

"How bad was the message you sent?"

“The message I sent? Oh, we’re not going to be talking about any messages from me today.”

“What do you mean?”

"Well, while rhapsodising about how much you want to marry Taako, how wonderful you think Taako is, how unobtainable and perfect and wonderful, you forgot to mention that you've stayed in touch. You also forgot to mention that he follows you. You forgot to mention, Kravitz, that you and Taako have been chatting."

"It's not chatting, it's just talking sometimes."

"Uh huh." Sloane narrows her eyes.

"He doesn't know who I am or anything. He probably doesn't even remember me."

Sloane clears her throat and reads off her screen. ""Nice to see that Taako's future husband is keeping it tight." Reply to a photo you sent him in which you're conducting. He does seem to have circled your arse in the screen shot he sent back."

"That's not serious. He's joking."

"And the countdown?"

"What?" Surely she didn't go through the whole conversation? There’s loads of it. So what if Taako messages him sometimes, so they video called semi-occasionally? It didn't mean anything, he'd never specifically said it meant anything.

"And I quote." Kravitz didn't like the sound of that. "Happy birthday, wandsome, 4 years 'til you're mine."

"That's... It… It doesn’t…"

"3 years 'til we can buy the cottage and run away together, handsome. Temporarily, obvi, Taako needs to stay current."

"How many screenshots do you have?" Kravitz might be able to anticipate exactly how bad this is if he knows. Maybe she searched for keywords and didn’t scroll.

"Your birthday last year: "1 year, we're nearly there, don't go falling in love with anyone else.""

"Okay, I get it. He talks to me and he remembers my birthday."

"Kravitz, you are, as ever, focusing on the wrong headline here. He remembers the promise, you know, the one you've been agonising over? Positively fretting about, in fact. "Should I remind him? Should I see if he's interested?" The answer's yes, Krav, you should see if the man who has reminded you about the ridiculous fucking promise for the last 3 years is interested in following through."

"But his boyfriend?"

"Hold on, wait, what boyfriend? Have you been messaging him even though he's with someone else?? Kravitz!"

"He's never mentioned him to me. Just, there's been a few interviews..." He tails off.

Sloane taps at her phone.

"Are you googling Taako?"

"No, I'm googling "boyfriend "Taako Tacco"" because I actually want relevant results."

Kravitz sighs and takes his place at Sloane's shoulder. Their height difference was nothing if not perfect for group research.

"My boyfriend doesn't like to be in the spotlight, we'll, apart from when he's doing it for work, he's a baller music guy, only the best for Taako, natch."

Sloane turned slowly to glance at Kravitz.

"I don't know who it is." He shrugs. "Taako didn't mention him to me, so I thought maybe it was to keep them off his back, or, you know, some kind of stunt."

"Mmm hmm. Well here's one from earlier this year, see if you can think of anyone it might be. Taako says: "I think it's pretty serious. We talked about marriage a long time ago and we check in every year. Mind you, who wouldn't want to be married to America's favourite kitchen wizard?""

"He's not wrong. Anyone would jump at the chance." Maybe his voice isn't meant to sound so dreamy, but it's Taako. He's everything Kravitz wants from a partner, funny, attentive, generous, smart, gorgeous.

Sloane all but groans. "Gross." She grimaces up at Kravitz. "Being disgusting isn't getting you out of this though, next one: "yeah, I'm sure he's the one. I've known him forever and haven't been interested in anyone else." Oh, and here’s some more, interesting: "he comes to my shows occasionally, I love it when he's in the audience, always inspires a bit of extra magic, gotta make sure he remembers how great Taako is." Haven't you been to a few of his shows, Kravitz?"

"Well obviously, I go whenever I can." He does, it's important to support your friend who you may also be in love with. It’s also really nice when Taako comps his ticket, although they agreed to do one on one off so Kravitz can support the show too.

"And you let him know you're going?"

"Well it usually comes up when we're chatting, or, you know, planning when to meet up?"

"Oh, so you've been meeting up?"

"Yeah, of course.” Kravitz hesitates. “...Only when he's in town and, you know, the times I flew out to meet him."

"Uh huh." Sloane's doing the voice she usually adopts when Kravitz is being particularly dim about something.

"It's nice, you know, to keep in touch."

"Would you say you keep in touch a normal amount, based on your other acquaintances?" There's a trap here, Kravitz can tell, but he doesn't know what it is.

"Well I talk to him less than you, and you're basically my only other friend."

"Oh don't make it sad when I'm trying to bully you."

"Sorry." Kravitz says, resting his chin on her shoulder, that might garner enough sympathy to get him out of this.

"So how often would you say you kiss, you know, when you're seeing each other a normal amount?"

Or maybe it wouldn’t get him of out this. Kravitz tries hard not to freeze up and demonstrate the level of panic flowing through him. "Ah… well, you know... The, er, the usual amount." He says, casually. Definitely casually. She won't suspect anything.

"Which issssss?"

Shit. Well, honest is the best policy. “Every time. Obviously. Kiss your homies."

"We're homies, we don't kiss."

"Would you, er... Like to?" Kravitz's throat is dry, clicking as he tries to get the words out. He really doesn’t want to have to kiss Sloane.

Sloane lurches away from him. “No! Gross. God.”

“Alright, there’s no need to be so totally disgusted about it.” He doesn’t need to be defensive about this, he doesn’t want to be defensive about this! He had one misguided attempt at kissing girls and realised very quickly that he had no interest in it, but, pride is a fickle thing, and Kravitz clearly needs to work on his.

“Are you actually upset that I, a gay woman, don’t want to kiss you, a gay man, who has absolutely no interest in me and knows that I don’t want any kind of romantic relationship with him? Also, what exactly do you think Hurley’s going to say when I tell her about this?”

“No! But…”

“Kravitz, you are very handsome, I will not stroke your ego any more than that. Back on track - you’ve been kissing Taako on the reg for at least 3 years now?”

Kravitz cringes.

“Kravitz!”

If he doesn’t reply he can’t be in trouble. That’s science.

“Kravitz AdventureZone! How long?”

“Six years.” He mumbles as quietly as he dares.

“One more time there, friend?”

“Six years.” He says more clearly, he’s not going to repeat it again.

“Six fucking years? I thought you were going out of town for work stuff!”

“I was sometimes! You didn’t ask every time.”

“I…” Sloane gives an exasperated sigh.

“Please tell me you know who his boyfriend is.”

“I just told you, Taako’s never mentioned him, I don’t know if he exists.”

“Kravitz. Engage your brain. Think about this. You have been seeing this man regularly kissing and I assume more…”

“I read about brojobs one time and just kind of assumed it was an extension of tha…”

“No, stop talking right now immediately. I refuse to hear you say anything else about boning down. You have never seen a penis before, even your own.” Sloane clamps a hand across his mouth. “Now, you’ve been seeing him regularly, kissing, more.” Sloane presses her hand down more firmly, just in case he tries to add anything else. “... and you work in music.” She removes her hand.

“I work in music.” Kravitz says quietly.

“You sure do.”

“And we message nearly every day, and video call a few times a week.”

“Uh huh.”

“And he sends me nice things and I send him nice things.”

“Yep.”

“And we joke about the promise every year.”

“Do you think maybe it’s not a joke?”

“He could have anyone!”

“I’m not convinced he wants anyone else, Krav.”

“I… I’m dating Taako?”

“Sure are, bud.”

“I. Fuck.” Kravitz sits down on the floor. “He never said.” He says, more to his feet than to Sloane. His Mums always taught him to put his head between his bent knees when he felt floaty so he could be small and heavy instead.

“Apart from all the times you talked about getting married?”

“He didn’t specify he wasn’t joking.”

“Did he specify that he was?”

“No.” Kravitz says, sulkily.

“And how about all the times you talked about moving in together?”

“We moved in together!” There, he’s being reasonable! Flawless logic.

“Yeah, but you’re not in love with me are you?”

“No.” Says Kravitz reluctant to admit defeat... Although, actually, wait. “But he doesn’t know that!”

“That you’re not in love with me?”

“No! That I’m in love with him.”

“So you haven’t told him you love him?”

“Well, I mean, I obviously tell him I love him.”

“Uh huh.” Sloane sounds like she’s about to implode.

“But like, in the normal way.”

“Uh huh.” He’s not sure he’s ever heard her voice pitched so high. “When you say normal?”

“Just like, the usual amount, that I would tell a friend who I’m in love with and also sleeping with and seeing regularly and… fuck.”

“Yes, you already established the fucking, there’s no need to boast.”

Kravitz should laugh, it’s funny, is the thing, it really is, but right now he’s rehashing 6 years worth of memories. It seems obvious, now that Sloane has laid it out for him, but how was he supposed to know? If no one clarifies then why’s he suddenly supposed to assume they’re dating and not just friends? At what point does that even happen? It’s been wonderful, is the thing, he loves that man, deeply, truly, passionately. That was the reason he’d brought up the promise in the first place. When they both hit 33, if there was no one else they wanted to marry, they’d marry each other. It had been the perfect plan when they were 10, and 15, and 20. But Taako had gone off and been famous and they saw each other less and Kravitz had just assumed that now that the world loved Taako too Taako would love someone else.

But he didn’t.

He hadn’t for the past who knows how many years, he definitely hadn’t for the last 6, because he’d picked Kravitz, chosen him to pour his time and his love into and Kravitz hadn’t even noticed properly. Or, of course he’d noticed that it was an important relationship. He’d celebrated Taako’s achievements, birthdays, candlenights; he’d bought every single one of his calendars and made him autograph them; he even made the world’s first and only copy of ‘“Got Wood?” a conductor pin up calendar’ for Taako. But no one had explicitly said they were dating. Taako hadn’t acknowledged it, well, except in the interviews… shit.

Kravitz stood up too fast, grabbed the table to steady himself. “I need to buy a ring.”

“Right now?”

“Right now! It’s nearly my birthday.”

“The promise?”

“Yes. I intend to keep it.”

-

Want to read more? Find Day 3 here.

[quietwingsinthesky]

i think i fucking love this game

[arolesbianism]

Ive been waiting for ages in oni for my future industrial block to be vacuumed out so I decided to doodle some furry women while I waited (it’s still not done)

[coffeebanana]

nobody: me: yes just throw a little quantum physics into this fic

[pushing500]

I love the idea of Irwin "animatedly" doing anything. Somehow I never picture the abrasive, ascetic, brawler colonists as very "animated" characters, but maybe he's just trying to make the lesson engaging for the little guy. I bet Irwin is a great teacher.

Also, yeah, we got a dinosaur. His randomly generated name is Swampy. I have not had the courage to attempt drawing him yet. Dinosaurs are awesome but also very tricky to draw.

Irwin and Andy continued to hang out for a little while, playing with axes as every reasonable adult looking after a three-year-old would do.

But, alas, while teaching the child about mathematics and biology and tree-felling, it appears Irwin's abrasive trait has also been noticed. Kids do learn from example, but I guess nobody told Irwin that.

First | Next | Previous

[projectcatzo]

As the Jagen unit in Fates, Jakob is about on par with Awakening Frederick in terms of usability--quite good but not without his flaws--but Felicia as the Jagen feels like if they took Nomah from Shadows of Valentia, made him join in one of the earliest chapters instead of one of the last, decreased his level but kept his shitty growths the same, divided his attack stat between strength and magic, and forced him to use melee weapons

[glorious-blackout]

i wish you would write a fic where there's unlimited amounts of whump and hurt/comfort because god. you're so fucking good at it

(bonus: i wish you would write a fic where there's smut because your writing style would fit and work so well with it and i just know it'd be absolutely exquisite) (but i totally understand it's not something everyone feels comfortable/wants to write. just saying i think you'd be a pro at writing it!) 🩷

Thank you! 🥺😭🥰

I have a vague idea that I've wanted to write for a while which would essentially be a major whump/hurt-comfort fest with a touch of magical realism and I'm hopeful it'll see the light of day eventually. I'm struggling to flesh out my ideas between work/writer's block/general life changes at the moment but the overall concept keeps rearing its head whenever I feel the urge to start writing again.

And I honestly don't know how I've resisted writing smut (beyond the occasional vague allusion to it) because I'm certainly not averse to reading it 😅

[jester-lover]

What if the dorm leaders had a clumsy, klutzy, forgetful, and lazy female s/o that somehow knows how to do impossible tasks (like cooking up a feast, repairing a car, play 10 different instruments, getting good grades, etc) without even trying?

Dorm Leaders with a Talented yet Lazy Girlfriend

CWs: a tinge of jealousy, fluff and a little insecurity. Fem! Reader, s/o is basically one of those overpowered anime protags lol.

Riddle

He adores you so much as his girlfriend, but Riddle can’t help but be a little jealous of you. The sheer lack of effort you put into anything and everything you do compared to the overall success you have goes against everything he was raised to believe.

Riddle might push you to be a little more studious but ends up finding it meaningless. You simply have a talent for beating people who’ve put in considerably more effort than you have.

Those miraculous acts of preparation you do, such as preparing full meals and such, come in especially handy when his dorm is in chaos before a tea party.

Seeing you whip up the tea, set the table, and paint all the roses in record time, it was like seeing a phoenix rise from the ashes. He was so bewildered he just stood there, mouth slightly agape.

The klutzy nature you display fits right in with his dorm, so he isn’t put off by it at all.

“S/O, remember you’ve got a history test today…I know you’ll do great…”

Leona

At the start of your relationship, there is a comfort the two of you have in your shared sense of calm. You’re both chill people with slow lives, living comfortably. The second he learns how effortlessly you succeed at life, though? He can’t help but be a little jealous.

Very verbally supportive, but silently fuming until he realizes just how ridiculous he’s being. Then he’s bragging about you to anyone who’s even a little curious. 

Leona’s event planning skills are…unfortunate to say the least. So whenever the two of you have guests over or are hosting some type of event, you take over. 

Clumsiness is also something he isn’t used to; lion beastmen are agile in nature, so he tends to help you in terms of holding things and overall balance. Leona insists you hand over any heavy or easily breakable object to him.

“Do you want me to carry that? Your hands are shaking again…”

Azul

You two definitely met because he deemed you an easy target for one of his contracts, only to be embarrassed and slightly enamored when you broke apart each aspect of it and tried to negotiate a better deal for yourself.

He respects how multifaceted you are, especially when it comes to your talents. Azul might even employ you to play light background music for the lounge. 

If your talents extend to sports, he’s going to beg for advice.

“So you don’t even practice or anything? And you made the team? What do you mean you’ve never played—

On the topic of grades, he gets a little freaked out. You’ve been here for like a month, and you’ve learned all of Twisted Wonderland’s history already? Are you some kind of malfunctioning robot?

Azul also doesn’t care about your lazy nature; nap around his office all you want.

Kalim

You two are quite similar in disposition and overall vibes, but when it comes to grades, you’re way better off than he is.

The amount of stress you both put Jamil in before you locked in and cleaned out that entire dorm was unbelievable. I mean, a full-course dinner that he didn’t have to make; he’s begging you to marry Kalim at this point.

He would be the type to leave you sticky notes reminding you of your tasks and goals, with little encouraging messages.

“Don’t forget you have a presentation today! How’d you do all 20 slides in ten minutes? Who cares? You’ll do great! :)”

Vil

This would be a tricky situation.

Vil believes in pushing yourself to reach your ideal goals; to sweat and tire is to prove your worth to him. So to see you basically lose at every step of the way and still win at life is unbelievable. I mean, you forget every quiz date you get and still score hundreds every single time.

Vil also appreciates your musical skills; he’ll encourage you to play complex melodies as he gets ready in the morning, waking him up for the day ahead.

His own schedule takes time from his studies, but he also scores high on everything. He thinks your grades come from a good sense of intuition.

“Schatz, how could you possibly have scored a hundred on this when you skipped all but 2 classes?”

Laziness is something he dislikes overall, but he can’t help but find you adorable when you drift off to sleep in his dorm room as opposed to getting some job done for Crowley. He likes making you feel safe.

Idia

He thinks you’re a natural good luck charm; I mean, everything you do seems to fall into place! 

Idia is also kind of lazy, so he won’t complain about your work ethic. Your clumsy nature, on the other hand, worries him because of all the one-of-a-kind tech in his room.

Once Idia finds out how good you are at, well, practically everything, he’ll get a little self-conscious. I mean, you don’t even have to try, and you just kinda win? Why stay with a shut-in like him?

You shut that down pretty quick, and he learns to just enjoy your talented self. He’s got a girlfriend; he’s already like, halfway more successful than most of his internet buddies.

Idia would adore it. If you played some type of electric instrument, like a synth or an electric guitar, he’d buy you the best one on the market just to hear some of his favorite intro songs played by you.

“S/O, how does a keytar sound? Of course, you already know how to play that.”

Malleus

Grades and all that don’t really matter to Malleus, as he’s also just naturally talented at everything, similarly to you. It's your clumsy, human nature that enchants him. Fae like him are naturally balanced, elegant, and refined; they don’t just fall over or knock things down like you have a habit of doing.

“You’ve just done what humans call ‘eating dirt,’ did you not, Beastie? Intriguing…”

The concept of laziness is also new to him; he would have fun dragging you along to your tasks and seeing the looks of shock on people’s faces as you come riding into class on the Prince of the Briar Valley’s shoulders.

Malleus is also probably trained in several instruments, and he’d love to play duets or help you acquire more rare, niche musical tools.

People who’ve been around as long as he has don’t often deem things impossible, but the shocking speed at which you managed to fix the decaying Ramshackle dorm, cook dinner each night for Grim and yourself, and deal with everyone’s problems, including your own, has him questioning if you’re human at all.

[nylqnder]

BUTTERFINGERS WILL SMITH

pairing: fem!reader x will smith

summary: will's quiet protectiveness over you begins to make you feel as though he's more than a friend.

warnings: will getting injured, friends to lovers, reader being a butterfingers/clumsy, bit of language

wc: 2.89k

notes: i can't get over will just automatically protecting you from things and just knowing you're going to bump your head or drop something.

Will had silently taken on the role of guardian against your own clumsiness.

As he got to know you, Will observed your accident-prone habits — the way you would unknowingly leave cabinet doors open at forehead level, how your phone always seemed to be on the verge of slipping from your grasp, and the countless times you misjudged the distance between your toe and the corner of the coffee table. He adapted in subtle, almost imperceptible ways, weaving his quiet vigilance into the rhythm of daily life.

At first, it was little things. He’d casually nudge a cup away from the table’s edge when you weren’t looking or intercept your phone mid-fall with reflexes so swift it seemed like a coincidence. If you were carrying too many things at once, he’d wordlessly take the heavier items from your hands before you had the chance to protest — or inevitably drop something.

Over time, his protective instincts became second nature. He walked slightly ahead of you when you were distracted, steering you gently away from uneven pavement or sudden steps. He started keeping a steadying hand near your back when you climbed stairs, ready to catch you if your balance faltered. Whenever you cooked, he subtly repositioned knives and hot pans out of your unknowing danger zone, and if you reached for something on a high shelf, he was already there, retrieving it before you had the chance to teeter on your tiptoes precariously

Even his speech patterns adjusted. A soft “watch your step” would precede any tricky curb, and a quiet “careful” would slip from his lips whenever you absentmindedly swung your arms too close to a fragile object. He never made a big deal out of it, never teased or sighed in exasperation. He simply adapted — anticipating, adjusting, protecting.

And perhaps the most telling thing of all was how effortless it became for him. As if watching over you wasn’t a responsibility, but rather something as natural as breathing.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. Will was observant by nature, careful in a way that contrasted your absentminded chaos, so his small interventions felt like an extension of who he was rather than something particular to you. But then, you began to notice — really notice.

Like the way he always positioned himself between you and the street when you walked together, his body a quiet barrier against the rush of passing cars. Or the way he would always get the door for you, seeing as you always get it wrong — pulling it when it’s a push, or pushing it when it’s a pull, which always resulted in you smacking into the door.

It wasn’t just his actions, but the way they made you feel. Safe. Not in the dramatic, swept-off-your-feet kind of way, but in the quiet, steady assurance that came with knowing someone was looking out for you — not because they had to, but because they wanted to.

And that was the thing about Will. He never laughed when you tripped over nothing or sighed when you dropped your phone for the millionth time, resulting in a new crack on your screen. He didn’t roll his eyes when you forgot where you put your keys for the third time in a day. Instead, he’d hand them to you with a soft “found them,” and a small, knowing smile that never held an ounce of exasperation.

The realization crept in slowly, unfurling in the space between his gestures and your awareness of them. You started looking forward to the little moments — the quiet steadiness of his presence, the way he never made you feel like a burden, never made your clumsiness into a punchline.

And then, one evening, it hit you.

Will and Macklin were set to go to a Warriors game, but last minute the younger Shark bailed on him in favour of a date. Will, not wanting to skip the game, asked you if you wanted to come. Basketball was never your chosen sport of interest, but you knew how badly Will wanted to go, so you agreed.

You were sitting in front of your vanity, curling wand in hand, rushing to finish your hair. Will was standing next to you, arms crossed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he huffed dramatically. “How long does it take to curl hair? I mean, we’re gonna miss tip-off at this rate.”

“Relax, we have plenty of time,” you said distractedly. For Will, it was like it happened in slow motion. He watched as your hand went to grab the curling iron, only to be reaching for the barrel instead of the handle. His hand darted in before yours, grabbing the barrel and pulling it out of your grasp.

Will only realized what he had done when it was too late, the burning sensation seeping into his skin. His face contorted in pain as he pulled his hand back sharply, letting out a sharp, involuntary scream. You turned in alarm, dropping the curling wand onto the vanity as you watched him clutch his hand, the raw redness already starting to form across his palm.

“What the hell, Will?” you shouted, the surprise and panic evident in your voice. You stood up, your hands trembling as you instinctively reached for his hand, wanting to help but not sure how. “Why the fuck did you grab my curling wand?”

He grimaced, his teeth gritted, but he managed a strained chuckle, his voice laced with guilt. “You were about to burn yourself,” he said simply as if that explained everything.

You blinked, momentarily stunned. You hadn’t even realized what had happened until he had grabbed the hot barrel. You’d been so caught up in finishing your hair, your mind swirling with thoughts of getting to the game, that you hadn’t even noticed your near mishap.

“You saw that?” you asked, your voice softer now, the edge of anger replaced with surprise. “You noticed I was about to—?”

He winced, clearly trying to mask the pain, but there was a hint of warmth in his eyes. “Of course I did,” he said quietly. “You do that a lot. Always rushing, not paying attention.” He gave a small shake of his head, looking almost apologetic. “I don’t know. It just… it’s instinct, I guess.”

You stared at him, trying to process his words. Will had always been observant, but this was something else entirely — a silent, steady vigilance that you’d never fully understood. He’d always been there, quietly anticipating your missteps, but you hadn’t realized just how much of it was rooted in a kind of protective instinct.

Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his expression, the way he held his injured hand close to his body, still trying to hide his discomfort for your sake.

You guided him carefully toward the kitchen, your heart pounding with a mixture of concern and confusion. He let you lead him, his steps slow as he held his injured hand away from his body like it was too fragile to touch anything. Once you reached the sink, you turned on the cold water, the rush of it filling the air.

Will stood beside you, watching you with a calmness that made your chest tighten with guilt. You helped him ease his hand under the water, the cold liquid hissing as it met the burn. He flinched for just a second, but then the chill seemed to soothe him, and he let out a soft breath, his eyes closing for a brief moment.

You reached over to gently hold his wrist, guiding it more carefully into the stream of water. The contact was subtle but felt significant—your fingers wrapping around his, steadying him as the water washed away the heat. There was an odd intimacy to the moment, something quietly tender in the way you were taking care of him, something that made your heart thud louder than it had any right to.

“How did you know?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual as you glanced at him, your eyes searching for answers. “How did you know I was going to grab the barrel?”

Will didn’t immediately respond, his gaze still focused on his hand, the water dripping off his fingers. He shrugged, his lips twitching into a faint, almost apologetic smile. “I just saw it coming,” he said, his voice low. “You were distracted, reaching for something hot. I… I could just tell.”

His gaze flickered toward you then, catching your eyes for the briefest of moments. “You’ve got a tendency to forget, y’know,” he added.

You couldn’t help but shake your head, a laugh escaping you that was both incredulous and full of affection. “You always seem to notice these things. It’s like you’re… watching me.”

Will’s expression shifted, something unspoken flashing in his eyes. He didn’t say anything at first, just staring down at his hand under the water. He didn’t seem to want to elaborate, but you could feel the weight of his silence. It wasn’t just concern you were sensing now; it was something deeper, something that made your heart flutter uncertainly in your chest.

“Why do you always notice?” you pressed gently, not quite sure where the question was leading but needing to understand. “It’s like you’re always one step ahead, always catching things before I do.”

Will’s shoulders shifted under the weight of your question, and he let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh. “I don’t know,” he said after a beat, his words almost too soft to catch. “I guess… I guess I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

There it was. The reason behind the actions that had always seemed so natural to him, so effortless. Will was watching, not just because he could, but because he cared. It wasn’t just observation — it was protection. He had quietly, unknowingly taken on the role of your guardian in a way that you had never even noticed.

He cared.

The weight of that simple, unspoken confession made your stomach flip, but before you could fully process it, something impulsive and raw surged up inside you. You closed the distance between you and Will, your heart racing with an intensity that felt as though it could pull you apart. In an instant, before either of you could think it through, you kissed him.

The shock hit both of you at the same time — his breath catching in his throat as your lips met his, both of you stilling for a moment, like the world had suddenly paused. The soft warmth of his mouth against yours was everything you didn’t expect but everything you needed. And just as quickly, the fear of what you’d just done flooded in.

You pulled away, wide-eyed, the breath between you ragged. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry—what the hell was that?” you stammered, a forced chuckle leaving your lips. Your face heated up as you scrambled to explain. “I—I don’t know what came over me. You just… I don’t know. I just—” You trailed off, unable to form the words to explain how his quiet care had wrapped itself around you, how you felt like the luckiest person alive just to be near him, to have him protect you without ever making you feel like a burden.

“I—I was just so touched, Will. By everything you’ve done, the way you look out for me. You’re—” Your voice faltered, the words feeling clumsy as you tried to express what you were feeling. “You’re one of the only people who doesn’t make fun of me for being so… clumsy. For being me.”

You stared down at your hands, suddenly embarrassed by the vulnerability of the confession.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the soft sound of your breathing, mingled with the sound of the water still running. Then, before you could continue apologizing or retreating into a wave of mortification, Will cut you off.

He leaned forward, dipping his head down so his lips could brush against yours again. The kiss was gentle, tentative at first, but quickly deepened, and all the awkwardness from before melted away. His hand found its way to your cheek, his fingers warm and sure as they cupped your face, the gesture filled with a softness that made your chest ache.

You both pulled away again, your breath mingling together in the small gap of space that remained between you two. The air was thick, not with tension, but with the words that had yet to be said.

His voice was low and slightly rough as he spoke, the words a whisper that seemed to settle between the two of you, making everything feel incredibly intimate. “I don’t know why I do it,” he said, his thumb tracing the edge of your cheek as if he were trying to memorize the feeling of you. “But every time I see you about to get hurt — whether it's something big or small — there’s this… this urge to protect you. To make sure you’re okay. It’s just… instinct, I guess, like you said.” He paused, his eyes flickering over your face, searching, before his gaze softened. “But it’s more than that. It’s not just about keeping you safe. It’s about… caring.”

Your heart thundered in your chest at his confession, and for a moment, you were speechless. You had always known there was something different about the way Will looked after you, but hearing it from him, in his own words, made it all the more real.

“Will…” you started, your voice trembling just slightly, unsure if your own feelings could measure up to the tenderness he was offering. You took a deep breath before continuing. “I—I care about you too. More than I’ve ever let myself admit.” Your hands found their way to his shirt, the fabric beneath your fingers grounding you in the present. “The way you protect me, it’s not just that you’re looking out for me. It’s that… it’s that you make me feel seen. You make me feel like I’m not… a nuisance. Like you actually want to be here. I’ve never felt that way with anyone else.”

There was a pause, just long enough for your words to hang in the air between you. Will’s gaze softened, his uninjured hand leaving your cheek to rest over yours, gently prying your fingers away from his shirt only to intertwine them with his own.

“You’re not a nuisance,” he said, his voice steady, but his eyes held something deeper, something more raw. “I want to be here, with you. Not just for your clumsiness, not just to catch you when you fall. But because…” He swallowed, the words suddenly feeling heavier on his tongue. “Because I’ve been falling for you too. And I don’t want to stop.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and your chest tightened with a mix of relief and disbelief. All of the moments — the small gestures, the quiet care — suddenly made sense. Will had been there, not just as your protector, but as someone who had quietly, unknowingly, built a foundation for something more.

“I didn’t think you’d feel the same,” you whispered, your voice vulnerable. “I thought maybe I was just… someone you looked after. But I want this too, Will. I want… us. If you’re still okay with that.”

Will’s smile was soft and sincere, and there was a warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter. He gently cupped your face again, pulling you closer as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before speaking again.

“I’m more than okay with that,” he said, his voice steady, now filled with a quiet confidence.

You looked up at him, leaning in to connect your lips once again. But just as the kiss deepened, Will’s hand moved instinctively, like it had so many times before, to cup your face. Only this time, something was different. The faint sting of his burn flared as his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your cheek, and he pulled back with a sharp inhale, wincing slightly.

“Fuck, that still hurts.” he hissed, his hand withdrawing from your face. Will shook his hand as if that would make the pain magically fall away.

“Who’s the clumsy one now?” you said, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of your lips, trying to break any remaining tension between you two.

Will chuckled, though the pain in his hand still lingered. His eyes softened, a quiet amusement flickering across his features as he met your gaze. “Guess it’s me,” he said, his voice light, yet full of affection.

You couldn’t help but smile back, the warmth between you both settling into something easy and comfortable. The air that had once been thick with unspoken words now felt clear and open. The kiss, the confessions — everything was still fresh, but it was right, in a way that neither of you could deny.

“I think we should get to that game before either of us ends up more injured than we already are,” you teased, a playful spark in your eyes.

Will grinned, his usual protective instinct settling back in as he offered you his good hand. “Let's go,” he said, squeezing your hand.

And as you both walked out the door together, the world felt a little less dangerous.