#I think if I practiced poses more it would come easier? either that or I’m art blocked again

[bestial4ngel]

Man I love drawing. Sure wish to be able to do it someday

#losing my mind here guys #there are vague thoughts of what I want to draw swirling around my head (which is rare !!!) but it’s an itch I can’t scratch rn #I think if I practiced poses more it would come easier? either that or I’m art blocked again #me talking

[writeshite]

Soldier boy 😩😩😩😩👌👌👌😍😍😍

If you write for him I’ll love you even more 🥺🥺🥺

Pose For Me

Summary:

“Damn, that was yummy,” he mutters, “You mind if I get another taste, sweetheart?” Your voice doesn’t come out, so instead, you nod, and he comes back in for another kiss; your hands come up to his face; the feeling of his beard is nice, as are his hands on your back. When you draw back again, he’s licking his lips, and you almost shy away, but he doesn’t let you.

Pairings:

Soldier Boy x Male!Reader

Tags:

Human Reader | Smut | Slight Praise Kink | Photographer Reader

Words: 1430

Author's Note:

It has been brought to my attention, that apparently, there are no male!reader fics for Soldier Boy, I'll have you all know, Dean Winchester tripped on his ass to Castiel so Soldier Boy could run. Plus look at him, seriously look at him 😏.

“And when you meet him, keep the conversation short. Don’t antagonize him; no small talk, no Super jokes. Take the photos, adjust, retake them, just do your job.”

You’d think that a Supe like the Soldier Boy would have some form of people skills, at least enough so you, the photographer for the day, don’t have to memorize countless rules on interacting with him. But apparently not. From the moment you’d stepped foot inside Vought, you’d been bombarded with various regulations and guidelines. You followed the Vought employee as she led you to Soldier Boy’s private quarters; when the doors opened, you breathed a sigh of relief when you found everything set up already. An area closest to his large windows had been tarped and a white backdrop hung in front of various photography equipment. The kitchenette and counter had food laid out, and all around the room were minor employees busying themselves with little tasks as they waited for Soldier Boy. 

Vought commissioned today’s session; since Soldier Boy was in a new era, he needed new promotional content - toys, photos, videos, merchandise - anything that could get the company a dime. You’d brought some example photos you’d taken of the other Supes before as examples. You placed your belongings on one of the couches, and once Soldier Boy walked in, the employees all fanned out, leaving you and him; he stared down at you with a questioning look. You held out your hand, introducing yourself, “I’m your photographer, sir,” you explained to him.

He nodded, walking over to the backdrop; you shuffled his arm, so his shield was fully visible and moved back to the cameras; the lights flashed; you took several photos and gestured him over, “They all look the same,“ he grunted.

“I guess, but it’s best to have enough photos in case we need them,” you tell him. “They’re your signature poses, so we need a lot of them. How about we move to some other ones?”

Soldier Boy shrugs; he kneels on one leg, shield held up as though he were being attacked, and face glancing to the side. You countdown from three, and the lights flash again; you shake your head, the photos aren’t bad, but they aren’t good either. You move towards him, lifting his shield higher, and push him back slightly; he holds your arm in its place, eyebrow raised. “Sorry,” you mumble, “it’s just easier for me this way.”

“Gotcha,” he remarks. He releases your arm but doesn’t stop looking at you, and the photos have him staring into the camera, they work, but they also send a shiver down your spine. His gaze doesn’t let down; this time, when he comes to look at the results, he stands closer to you, hands coming up on yours, and he asks about the process and modern-day photography. With every question and answer, he shuffles closer to you and is practically towering over you, glancing down at the pictures; you, on the other hand, have your eyes on your shoes, which Soldier Boy takes notice of. His hand moves to your chin, tilting it up, “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Don’t take pride in your work?”

“Uh, no, sir, just never had anyone this close for inspection,” you reply. He laughs, thumb tracing a circle on your neck before he moves back; he sets his shield down, moving to the counter, he beckons you over for a break; you shrug and follow, though you don’t get to sit in a chair as Soldier Boy drags you into his lap. “Sir?!”

“None of that sir stuff, call me Ben,” he tells you, “Now shush, we’re taking a break, might as well get to know each other more intimately.” His hand squeezes your waist, “So, sweetheart, what’s a pretty boy like you doing working for Vought?”

He pushes a strawberry into your mouth; your eyes dart away a bit as you swallow, but he turns your chin to look at him, “Uh, gotta pay the bills, you know?” you shrug, “And it’s not so bad, I don’t officially work for them….” he pushes a blueberry past your lips, when you try to finish, he tsks you.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Ben’s grip on your waist moves down to the top of your pants; you look away again, and he directs your gaze back to him, “Keep those eyes on me, pretty boy.”

You nod; he picks up another berry but puts it in his mouth, biting it gently; he turns to you, dangling it so close, he curls his finger, smiling. You bite your lip, gaze still on him, you lean forward, when you’re teeth graze the berry, his other hand pushes your neck, your eyes widen when you feel his lips on yours when you move back, and as you’re sitting there with your mind in a frazzle, Ben is grinning like a madman. 

“Damn, that was yummy,” he mutters, “You mind if I get another taste, sweetheart?” Your voice doesn’t come out, so instead, you nod, and he comes back in for another kiss; your hands come up to his face; the feeling of his beard is nice, as are his hands on your back. When you draw back again, he’s licking his lips, and you almost shy away, but he doesn’t let you. One hand comes down under your ass, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“The…the…the rest of the session,” you attempt, but he disregards your words, he stands, and you have no choice but to wrap your legs to keep your balance. 

“Clever boy.” Your eyes dart away, and you bite your lip, “give us another kiss, won’t you?”

You peck him, and he praises you again, your stomach churns at his words, and you feel a buzz of joy when he does so. “You like that, don’t you?” Ben asks; he starts to walk, and you try to turn, but he calls back your attention, “no peeking, sweetheart - now answer my question - you like it when I compliment you, give you attention?”

The blood rushes down, “Yes.”

“Good.”

Then the world tilts, and you fall back onto something soft, your head touches pillows, and you glance around and realize you must be in Ben’s room. He’s hovering over you, arms by your head; he raises one of your legs, slinging it over his shoulder; he doesn’t avert his gaze as he pulls down your trousers. His hand runs up your other leg, pushing it slightly to the side; he takes your dick in his hand and runs his thumb up to the tip. You don’t get any warning before he deepthroats your cock; you moan, biting your lip to keep the noise down. Ben moves up, tongue dragging along your skin. Your head is tilted back on the pillows, and you're gripping the sheets tightly; when his head moves back down, his hand follows; his hand moves underneath, holding your dick as it moves up and down with his mouth until he brings you to orgasm. Your hand goes over your face as Ben licks the cum, then he pushes your legs higher, parting your buttcheeks; he dives in, chuckling when you squeal in surprise. When he grows bored of that, he substitutes his tongue for his fingers and puts his mouth to good use on your chest. 

He bites one, pulling at it with his teeth, a wicked smile on his face when you whimper, he alternates between the two, and when he feels you’re open enough, he drives his dick in your ass. Your arms come around his back, nails digging into his skin as he plows forward. “Look at you, my good boy, taking me all in,” he says; you manage a shallow nod as his hand comes under your back, lifting you for a better grip. One of your legs is thrown over his shoulder, and he uses that to help him fuck you harder, the other one is around his waist, and you whimper with every thrust that reaches your g-spot. His stamina is extraordinary, and even when he’s exhausted the last orgasm from you, he’s still going, and all you can do is cling onto him until he finally cums. 

He pants above you; your arms are still around him, but your hold is weak; when he moves, and his dick slips out you whimper. He drags you to him; his chest is warm, and you snuggle close, “Did I fuck you too hard, sweetheart?” When you groan in response, he snickers, “Good.”

End Note:

If you need me I'll be asleep cause it's like 3 in the morning. I hope you enjoyed reading this shite, stay hydrated 🫡

#soldier boy x male reader #soldier boy x reader #shiterequests #this author regrets nothing #🫡

[toyotacorolla2008]

hi!!! i was wondering if you could do a tutorial for how you draw transformers? i can never simplify them like you can. do you have any tips?? also love your art sm <33

hi ヾ(•ω•`)o

I WILL TRY MY best to explain what i do… i don’t actually have a very structured system but this is vaguely how i got started and how i simplified the process

1. look up and compile a whole bunch of references

this will be useful for EVERYTHING– transfomos come with lots of shapes and gizmos and details and stuff so a variety of references from different angles and in different poses is really useful because you can see the shapes they’re made out of and also understand how everything connects with each other

trapezoid town! this is a mess but it’s a quick example of how by looking at everything you start to notice trends or details like what moves with what or how flexible some parts are

there are a whole bunch of resources very nice people have compiled on the web like here here here here and here (mainly MTMTE) and there is a discord server (this is a link to a tumblr post about it and not the invite link itself) for it too but you can always look through the source material and just start screenshotting and pasting shit into a folder. 

you don’t have to do humongous in-depth breakdowns if you just want to be able to quickly doodle robots (god knows i don’t!!) but having the references on-hand makes it easier for the times when you’re like This pose is going to be challenging and I’m not sure how all of the cuboids will be positioned.

references also help break you out of thinking of it as just drawing blockier humans because the proportions and shapes vary a looooooot

2. draw draw draw

at first i drew a lot using refs heavily to get an idea of the shapes then i got lazy and just started drawing anime girls and smacking rectangles and kibble on top BUT as you draw more and more you start to pick up on the Salient Features as well as their General Silhouette.

drawing from memory means that what makes them look recognisable will become more emphasised in your mind so you’ll naturally pick up on how you can simplify them without losing what makes your guy Look Like Your Guy. so if you want to simplify the robots just be incredibly lazy like me B)

i'm kind of horrible because i don't even do like Basic Shapes i literally just eyeball it

for poses i rectangle it out while thinking really hard

anyway when i first tried to draw transformers but Something Didn’t Look Right it was either a) the level of detail across the entire drawing was inconsistent and threw it off balance or b) proportions weren’t right and these things only got better with me finangling and doodling and learning by iteration.

of course sometimes i don’t give a fuck because no cops in transformers doodle land but yeahhhh i’m the kind of guy who only gets through stuff by throwing a lot of rocks at it. i don’t have a Method to offer you unfortunately but what i did do was

3. experiment and exaggerate and experiment!!

The First Rule of Gun Safety is to Have Fun and Be Yourself! i took a lot of liberties and rarely stayed on-model when i doodled and waffled around (and i still do…) but it helped me figure out how much i was willing to draw lol and consequently how i would stylise them.

i would play with how big or small or exaggerated or expressive they'd be… even my most detailed drawings are nowhere near comic-detail but my least detailed ones were. turquoise triangle that’s vaguely brainstorm-shaped. having fun with it and just doing it to make stupid jokes makes the practice seem like not practice.

so yeah tl;dr i started by reffing what bots actually look like, would trace comic panels to get an idea of the shapes and details and then start drawing side-by-side → drew billions of perceptors from my diseased mind and played around with lines → ??? → upgraded from goofy-looking rectangles to goofy-looking rectangles

that’s it for advice! (i don’t feel qualified to say that much)

below are just examples of stupid doodles i’d make on my ipad in class or in the margins of assignments lol, you can tell the last one is from when i still didn't understand brainstorm's build very well because the wings are placed wrongly... But i grew.

hope this was somewhat helpful! there are other tutorials from other artists that i can direct you to but this is how toyotacorolla2008 got to shitposting on tumblr dot com

#anonymous #ask #thanks for liking my art and thank you for this ask! #If you wanted me to talk about something that i did not touch on imma sowwy.. you can send another ask and i will respond and go deeper #i typed up this post really fast so i hope its coherent #local blogger too Freaken busy with school to draw detail #going to class like Im ready for my hard days work of drawing cuboids stealthily #bonposting

[daincrediblegg]

Assorted Bruno Headcanons

a/n: because it’s sunday and I’ve been mulling things over quite a bit for my own entertainment and oh lawd I’m fuckin crying. Enjoy y’all.

His visions aren’t involuntary- or at least, not completely, but they weren’t always a voluntary thing- but they did eventually become completely voluntary through his own anxiety management. Hear me out.

His whole superstitious nature seems to me like it stems from him being a very imaginative kid who let his ideas run away from him to the worst possible conclusion- which then manifested into his prophetic gift when he came of age (seems this is how a lot of the gifts work- being that Antonio loved animals before he got his gift of the ability to speak to them- like these gifts don’t come out of nowhere clearly- they are entirely dependent on the kid’s proclivities before the ceremony even takes place). 

So when he was a kid- he’d probably (very much like Pepa, actually) let his mind run away from him- and before he knows it there’s dust and dirt and sand whirling up around him and his eyes are glowing and everyone is FREAKING OUT and then when everything suddenly settles: there’s Bruno. With a little glowing green tablet of whatever he saw. But these vision tablets that get produced when this happens tend to be very fuzzy and unclear. Still a vision with the vague outcome of the event but the details are hard to see, unfocused. 

And this is where his little ritual comes in. It’s not so much a thing he does to manifest the vision itself, but rather something he learned to do for himself over time to help him have visions easier and not let his anxiety over them get so out of control (like- does a LOT of deep breathing and even gets into a meditative pose for it- to which I’m like good for you for practicing self care king). It probably helps him see things a little clearer when he has a clearer head to focus with too (because having visions the other way??? it’s giving me second-hand anxiety just thinking about it like jesus. Like when he has his vision in Antonio’s room with Mirabel in the movie I kept on thinking like lol this is the exact kinda shit I gotta do for myself to hype myself up for a phone call. Same energy for sure.)

I feel like Julieta may have, deep down, known that Bruno was still around by sole virtue of him being kitchen adjacent and also like how the hell else would he feed himself hanging out in the walls for 10 years??? I feel like she maybe never stopped making an extra portion of food for Bruno just from instinct- and he either snuck down to get his grub on later or for Casita to snatch and bring up to his lil hidey hole when everyone else was having dinner. Either way my boy’s getting fed damnit.

Speaking of- he’s probably known about the hidey hole for a long time- if he didn’t create it himself. I mean there’s a lot of old furniture and stuff back there and there’s no way casita came with that built in. I mean that house shifts around and changes a lot thanks to ✨miracle magic✨ maybe it’s stuff that just... nobody was using it so the hidey hole is kinda like casita’s personal storage that the rest of the household members don’t know about... except Bruno. Whose hole probably showed up in the casita walls when he was younger when his gift wasn’t being the most useful or most widely loved thing in the world (a.k.a. the hidey hole is a precursor to the cracks- fun implications there). Like that’s his childhood safe space. Even from his room (which granted- didn’t always look the same as it did as we see it in the moive, but was still probably a really intimidating space to be in even to a little kid. So he probably went back there a lot and hung out, let himself be himself without the pressure of using his gift or anything- and what better place then to hide out years later when he had to disappear???

Also adjacent to this: when casita gets re-built and the magic gets reinstated- his room this time looks a little bit more like the hidey-hole- with all his old furniture, patched up and looking damn near brand-new. But this time with a real bed, but still with his old hammock and chair, and an actual cage/space for his rats to live too (complete with rat theater space). And an actual WINDOW so he can get some sunlight in there too. He probably cries when he sees it for the first time. “Tio Bruno are you ok?” Mirabel asks. “I’m fine. It’s just... no more stairs!” She nods and pats his back in solidarity. 

He never was exactly the “golden” child. Not in the slightest- and certainly not in the same way that Isabella was. Like... he’s never been widely loved by the whole town (and the song really speaks to that - that’s not the song of someone who was once much beloved and then fell from grace like that’s genuine town pariah shit)- and nobody to this day really seems to understand him or how his visions work. The only person I think he might’ve held a little more weight for is Alma- who I bet relied on him a little too much for his visions (I mean her biggest fear is losing her home and the people she loves again- hell of a thing to then have a little boy who can see the future and tell you definitively whether you will or won’t)- but then the problem was that she probably relied a little too heavily on him for assurance, and when the visions are never what they seem when you look at them at first or with a clearly defined fate... it makes it really hard for him to face his mom because of that. And no doubt Alma has misunderstood what his visions have meant before (hence why he resorts to the immediate conclusion that he has to leave when he has Mirabel’s vision). She still loves him though(I mean she loves all her babies equally and dearly but like... he’s her Baby Boy. Evident in how she immediately hugs him and kisses his cheek and calls him Brunito seeing him for the first time in 10 years despite having parted the way they did and - again- 10 YEARS of the bitterness of that wound festering for the both of them???)... yeah. Mama Madrigal has the biggest soft-spot for her Brunito above all. Even if they’ve always had a hard time fully understanding one another (though I bet Bruno probably got Alma’s anxieties a little better than anyone else), she loves him. Ok. That is all. 

Lol none of the townspeople’s Bruno prophecies were actual prophecies. Bruno could tell the fish was swimming a little weird and was probably gonna die. The guy who ‘grew a gut’ LITERALLY??? HE’S THE SAME GUY THATS HANDING OUT PASTRIES AND SHIT LMAO (and ofc he never said anything about belly fat being a bad thing bruno says fat fuck rights) and the guy who lost his hair is pretty young Bruno probably knew his dad who was probably ALSO bald and there you have it! NOT THAT FUCKING HARD TO PREDICT. 

#bruno madrigal #julieta madrigal #pepa madrigal #alma madrigal #mirabel madrigal #encanto #just living in the bruno headspace tonight... just loving the bruno headspace tonight #headcanons #meta #well… kinda #bruno madrigal x reader

[scorpiobitch95]

Summary: Sy walks in on your daily yoga practice for the first time and is captivated by what he sees.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, dirty talk, rough sex, swearing, sex (oral, female receiving), sex (p in v), bodily fluids (breeding kink? maybe?), unprotected sex, spanking.

Author's Note: This work is for 18+ only, no minors tolerated. You consume content at your own risk. This is my first smut fic, it's been running rampant in my head since starting a daily yoga practice over 3 months ago... now where is Sy when I need him? Y'all, when I tell you how much I need this to happen... wow. Hope you enjoy!

Edited by myself, sorry not sorry for the errors.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own.

Please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!

••••

Namaste

The mid-morning sun warmed the room around you, illuminating the open airy space. A place for peace and self-serving practices, you used your sunroom for many acts of self-care. Along the walls were plants and yoga gear, lined up neatly.

Daily yoga had been a part of your routine for several months, bringing you peace and mindfulness, and not to mention a great toning workout for your whole body. It was a habit, just like drinking water: your body craved it.

Today's practice was around the halfway mark when you heard Sy let himself in the front door. You’d never practiced yoga in front of him before, but his interest always piqued when you mentioned it. Your focus faltered when you noticed his presence; he was standing in the doorway, watching you quietly. Good thing you weren’t in a balancing posture.

“You’re early! Sorry, I’ve still got a bit left.” You were able to see him as you flowed from your cobra into downward dog and stretched in this posture, bending your legs and swaying your hips, working out all of your stiffness, you looked at him upside down.

“Don't be sorry, sweetheart. You take your time, Sugar. I’ve got a beautiful view.”

He grinned big and whistled quietly as you raised your leg into a three-legged dog and brought it forward smoothly into pigeon pose, which, coincidentally, you knew made your ass look terrific. You brought your mind back to your center and refocused on your breath as you leaned into this hip stretcher. With Sy in your life, keeping your hips stretched and limber was a must.

You mimicked these motions on your other side but were distracted when you heard him fidgeting. A smirk slithered on your lips.

“It’s not too late to join me. You could do with a little more flexibility, baby,” you moaned at him seductively.

“You and I both know that if I get down there with ya, it’s not yoga we’ll be doin’ Sugar.”

“Oh come on, Sy, let’s get you all warmed up before I have my dirty way with you.” Teasing him was your favorite pastime. You knew the day he saw you do yoga would lead to a fun time for you both.

A growl erupted and you took a glance at him and winked as you twisted in your pose. You knew your ass was calling his name in your blush yoga leggings; you had him mesmerized by every move you made. His eyes were glued to you, and he was ready to pounce.

You continued your flow as though nothing was out of the ordinary, seeing just how long he would last. You ended up on your back to finish your routine. Sy's need was growing by the intensity of his breaths as you moved into a bridge pose, but surprisingly, he held the remainder of his composure until you transitioned to happy baby. Feet pressed in your hands, your clothed core was exposed to his hungry gaze. You closed your eyes, feeling the deep stretch in your hips once again, focused on your inner tranquility and your meditative breathing, that is until your thoughts were interrupted by his scent.

Sy was hovering above you, his large hands placed on either side of your head on the mat, his knees pressed to the back of your thighs. Opening your eyes, you smiled and reached up to meet him as he leaned down. You kissed his soft lips, giggling.

“Well, hi there. That’s a great pose choice, babe. Tabletop is really great for your spine.”

“You better be wrapping up because you’ve teased me long enough. God damn, Sugar, I don’t think I’ve been this hard in my life.” He leaned forward and pressed his hips into your opened ones. “You make me crazy with how sexy you are, ya know it?”

“Oh yes, happy baby pose is definitely sexy. How can you possibly resist me when I’m doing this?” You couldn't help but laugh at yourself because this posture was borderline ridiculous. He kissed you again and bent his head down to trail kisses along your jawline and neck.

“Well you're makin’ me happy, baby. That pussy of yours is callin’ out to me. Come on, tell me you’re ready for me… you’re drivin’ me wild.” You tried to laugh at his eagerness but were quickly overtaken again by his lips on yours and his tongue seeking the inside of your mouth. You released your feet and wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck as you coaxed him closer to your body.

“Is there such a thing as naked yoga? Cause I think I could be down for that anytime, Sugar.”

“Why don't we do some naked yoga practice of our own right now, Captain? I think I know a few things you’ll like.” His cock ground into the warmth emanating from your center and both of you were beginning to gasp heavily. Breaking away and gasping for air, you breathed out, “Mmm, fuuuuck. Yoga does have its perks, doesn’t it?” Your hand caressed the back of his head while one brushed his cheek softly.

“My body is warmed up just for you. Do your best, Captain.”

Winking and biting your lip, you guided his mouth to your neck, where he covered your skin with a gentle-rough exfoliation of scruffy kisses and nips. His lips were warm and wet as he trailed his love bites from your neck down your collar bone to the exposed tops of your breasts. He took over and unzipped your yoga bra, ravaging your nipples with feral growls of appreciation.

Involuntarily, your back arched to beg for more. You needed him closer; you wanted to fuse yourself to his strong form the way pieces of glass meld when heated to become one whole.

Kisses peppered your bare belly, your torso squirming from the tickling of his beard on your flesh. His hands wandered down to your leggings, peeling them down with your lace thong as he continued his hot, wet kisses. Sy immediately moved his bearded mouth to your pussy, not wasting a single second before beginning to devour you.

Your legs instinctively clamped towards his head, but Sy was quicker: his warm hands wound themselves under and around your thighs, holding them open. “Do that bridge again, baby.” You put your feet down and pressed your hips up into a wide-legged low bridge, bringing your wet cunt even closer to his mouth. “Yes, just like that.” He whispered those words against your clit, making you vibrate with sheer bliss. You tightened your core muscles and focused on breathing down through your middle to intensify your pleasure.

Sy's tongue had a reputation for making quick work of you; he could always make you come in record time. He'd barely had time to pleasure you yet, but you were so turned on that all it took was for Sy to hum and whisper into your pussy, “Come for me… mmmm… Come for me, Sugar.” With a final suckle of your clit, you were convulsing on his tongue.

“Holy shit, fucking yes!” You exhaled a huge laughing breath as you lowered your body and he kissed his way back up to your breasts. “Wow... fuck, let me see you, Sy.” You reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head to expose his yummy chest. You looked from his chest back to his face: his blue eyes were afire and hungry with lust, latched onto yours with the intent to conquer you. You caught his mouth with yours as your hands roamed over every inch of his broad back, feeling his muscles ripple underneath his smooth skin.

“Darlin', I need ya. Now. I’m gonna need to get a piece of that sweet ass of yours that you’ve been teasin’ me with.” He flipped you over suddenly, his hands immediately on your cheeks, squeezing and massaging them with his strong hands. You heard the rustle of clothing as Sy rid himself of the remainder of his clothing. An electric shock ran through your veins when his large hand cracked against your ass, your pussy becoming more charged by the second.

You took the opportunity to move into an easier access position that would put you on full display for him: puppy pose.

Sounds so innocent, you smirked to yourself. On all fours, you brought your hands forward and brought your knees backward, dropping your head, heart, and belly down to the mat below, causing your hips and ass to raise up in the perfect position.

“Oh Sugar, you are the sweetest thing… now, let’s take care of ya, huh?” Slapping your ass again, you felt Sy’s cock burning hot on the lips of your center, only his head teasing you gently... in and out, in and out. Now he was driving you wild.

“Syyyyy, I need you to fuck me now, please.”

With your words, his throbbing cock split you open, the intensity nearly sending you into bliss again. Your hips lined up perfectly with his, and the thick veins that bulged on the underside of his cock stroked the front walls of your pussy deliciously. You sighed in relief as your hips took his increasing speed, flesh smacking flesh, and his hands were still on your ass, squeezing possessively. There would definitely be bruises tomorrow.

Every thrust was making you see stars, and you were just getting going. You wanted to take control back so you pulsed your core muscles a few times around him; it always drove him crazy. “Just like that… God, Sugar, you’re incredible... keep doin' that.”

You were approaching your edge again but knew that you wanted to try a few other things before you were totally spent. “Sy, stay inside me and stand up.” Working to move in sync, you pushed up into downward dog as he stood, you walked your hands back and widened your legs out into a wide-legged forward fold, wrapping your hands around the back of your ankles. You were still on full display, but this time with the better ability to push back and meet his thick hips, your body taking all of him. Sy was able to push harder and faster into you like this, guiding your hips along his veiny length. His cock was still constantly caressing your G-spot, bringing you close once again.

Sy rubbed his hands up and down your hips, and you could feel the soft hair of his meaty thighs tickling the backs of yours. It was one of your favorite parts of him. You adored his hairy body. So virile. So hot. It made you do stupid things.

“Sy, fuck you feel so good like this.” Knowing you were near your release, his hand snaked around to softly engage your clit, your wetness making his motions effortless. You focused on holding your balance as your second orgasm ripped through you, making your legs tremble incessantly.

Sy immediately grabbed your hips to steady you, not wanting you to fall. “You got one more in ya, baby? Give me one more,” he cooed at you sweetly.

“Mmm, yes. Stay standing.” You shakily made your way down to your mat and moved to lie on your back. Rocking back and forth on your spine, you brought your legs back behind your head and set your toes gently on the ground, your body still trembling from your first two orgasms.

“Fuck.” Sy breathed as he watched you curl your body up and present your pussy right to him. Plow pose was aptly named, you thought.

Giggling, you told him, “That’s the idea, babe. Now, let’s both finish this practice strong, yea?”

He was on you in a flash: Sy was standing above you, the view of his ripped back and peachy ass were your show while he crouched into a wide squat, grabbed your hips, and entered you again. Your legs were pressed together in this pose, creating even more delicious friction for you both.

Sy’s grunts and breathy 'Fuck, Sugar's were your cue to know how close he was. You brought your hands up to caress the backs of his thighs and calves, stabilizing yourself and keeping him close to you.

You’d never felt him go so deep before, and if you hadn’t had the consistent practice of taking all of him — and there was a lot of him — it could have hurt. He was stimulating every spot, working you up once more… you didn’t think you’d have it in you, but as Sy become more erratic and fucked you faster, his deep thrusts made your control slip, and you crashed into waves of ecstasy once more. As your orgasm overtook you, it was all you could do to keep your hips upright. Grounding your trembling body, Sy held you in position as he swelled and released into you with a final snap of his hips, expelling a deep guttural moan.

Both of you sucking in air, you couldn’t help but laugh at your current position as you tried to catch your breaths. Pulling out of you, Sy guided you down to the mat gently and laid down beside you on his back.

“Now, we lay here quietly in Shavasana and soak in the nutrients of our practice,” you guided him, a cheeky grin taking over your face.

“Oh, you’re soakin’ up those nutrients, all right. Careful to not spill a drop, Sugar.”

••••

I do not own Captain Syverson, Sandcastle, or anything related to it.

#henry cavill #syverson #syverson x you #captain syverson #fanfiction #henry cavill thirst #yoga #scorpiobitch95 #namaste #henry cavill fanfic #syverson fanfiction

[zulivaris]

Art Block tips that helped me

 I’ve recently experienced art block after 3 or so months of overcoming my last one. Thankfully this block only lasted a few days thanks to some things I’ve observed and noted down from the previous time. So I’m sharing these few tips in hopes that it might help someone get unstuck :D!

First and foremost if you’re tired, sad or anxious don’t be surprised that you can’t make art, go and take care of yourself by treating yourself with kindness and patience, the sketchbooks and canvases will wait for you :)

The tips are under here:

Separate art studies from the creative time:  When you do art studies you’re there to focus on specific things, learn and understand how things work so you can apply them later in your art. Studies take a lot of energy and focus and are the opposite of the creative "flow” of making your own pieces. If you combine the two the results are either unfocused studies or stiff drawings. When you sit down at your desk ask yourself “Do I want to learn something new or do I want to create something of my own?”

When you have an idea don’t be afraid of being messy: Let’s say you want to make a picture of several cats kolo dancing in the moonlight. How do you go about doing this? Well since you came up with the idea you already have a vague image in your mind, sketch it out with simple shapes, stick figures, circle and spheres etc Don’t worry about cat anatomy, or the dancer’s moves, sketch out the essence of it. This method removes the need to be perfect or accurate. 

Ok after the messy sketch then what? Well now that you have sketched out the essence of your idea (and hopefully had fun doing so) now you go on to look for references! You put the creative process on pause and you can do a few brief studies if you need to: anatomy, color schemes, values, poses. Pick out a few of your favorites but don't obsess over them, they are a guide, a tool.

You know much more than you think. You’ve probably been drawing for a few years now. You’ve probably done some studies and drawn more than one type of subject. Then you have already internalized some of that information. I used to be obsessed with capturing the minute detail of the subject, and not be able to draw ANYTHING without reference. Instead of a useful tool, references became another obstacle to my creativity. That’s perfectionism my friend, and that’s no good. Here is an exercise a good friend of mine offered: Draw a few characters, animals and objects from imagination. Make sure that the subjects have no personal value to you (no ocs for example) so that if you make a mistake you won’t feel bad about it. Make the process relaxed and comfortable, pour a nice cup of joe, listen to your favorite music ... You will notice that you do indeed know how to draw some things without reference, and it’ll help with your confidence. 

The more you do studies the more you understand This seems evident but the more you understand your subject the freer you can be and the easier it’ll be to draw it from imagination in the future. If you really struggle with something to the point of frustration (as in you can’t get it right even with reference) It means you have to study it. Have a study list, for example: hands, perspective, color theory etc. And one of those days you want to study pick something from the list, and look for videos on youtube or useful sites like line of action etc. Only study one thing at the time. You can go from studying hands to studying arms since they’re more immediately connected, but you can’t study hands and then jump to learning perspective right after. Trust me you can learn perfectly fine with the resources online, and I’m sure you’re clever enough to do it :D

Mistakes don’t mean you “suck”  I’ve noticed that the two most common causes for art block are perfectionism and lack of self-confidence.  The two can often go in tandem which is worse :’D But let me remind you of something, you can fix your piece along the whole process. Use erasers, lasso tools, liquify , select, paint it all over etc If something looks off to you then you also know deep inside how to fix it. Useful ways to see what clunks: flip canvas horizontally (helps with placement, proportions), turn the image to grayscale (helps to check values and where your eye tends to look), look at your image in thumbnail size and ask yourself if it’s clear, see the pose’s silhouette and ask yourself if you can tell what the character is doing etc. Don’t fret, everything can always be fixed :)

Perfectionism, sometimes it stops you before you begin Perfectionism causes you to overwork a piece, it makes you draw less, it makes art stressful, it brings insecurity. Let’s remove it with a simple exercise. It can be combined with the “draw things from imagination” once you’ve drawn something you like: dont do line art, don’t shade it, keep it as simple and crude as possible and then...post it. Yes, post it. You’re not at your best? You’re only human, this will help you embrace that very human side of you. You make mistakes. So what? The more mistakes you make the more you know what you need to study and the better at art you become. Mistakes are there to show us what we need to learn. See them as another tool and not a sign of failure.

Make the process as enjoyable as possible: You like art. You love drawing. Never forget this. Otherwise why are you drawing if you don’t enjoy it? It’s easy to fall prey to the mentality of those relatable memes that “art= suffering” or “I can’t even draw the other eye”. No no no my friends, these messages are fueling your insecurities instead of overcoming them. Let me tell you what, art is fun. It is. Art is fun, because I decided to make it fun again. And you should decide on that too. Personally I adore lineart but my hand-eye coordination is lacking to do it digitally, so....I just skipped it. Yes. I skipped it. I do the sketch, I clean it up a bit and then jump onto color which I adore. It allowed me to draw more and more freely. When I draw I listen to music, make strokes with the rhythm, I take breaks often and I drink my favorite iced teas. If you don’t like coloring do it in grayscale, if you love lineart then do that etc It doesn’t mean you won’t learn your weak points in the future with studies and practice, but you won’t let your weaknesses prevent you from drawing at all. No no, you won’t let them. You draw because you want to, despite of them.

Don’t wait for inspiration, provoke it  Inspiration is not a divine and capricious muse. You make inspiration. It’s easy just collect all the things you like, music, artists, objects, characters, animals, patterns, plants etc Make boards on pinterest or similar sites, combine things you like. You like suits? You like birds? You can draw a bird in a suit, or a bird-inspired suit design, there is frankly a lot of ideas that can spring up from little things like these.

When a project stops being enjoyable either pause it for now or move on to the next thing. Pieces aren’t precious. They’re not “the one time I got x right” they are one of many. This advice goes mainly to hobbyists who can afford the luxury of passing to a new project. I have a WIP of a character who is overly complicated (I enjoy a challenge from time to time) sitting for half a month. I sometimes come back to it and add something... but as soon as it starts to create discomfort and insecurity instead of enjoyment I move onto something else. In the meantime I created 3 or 4 new pieces. If I had waited on finishing that piece I would have been severely creatively and physically exhausted. The art comes from you, not inspiration. The more art you make the better you become.

That’s about it :D I know it’s long but I prefer to be thorough and cover all the possibilities. If you have read of this: Thank you so much I hope this helps you at least a bit, if it helps only 1 other person I’d still be very happy. Have a nice one, and kick art block’s butt!

#art block #art block tips #art block advice #art advice #art help #BloggityDiary #art reference #I hope this will help someone out #This will also help me remember my own advice sksksk

[mrsbrekkers]

could you do a jesper x reader where the reader is more on the emotionless side and is always lowkey angry at the world and jesper is always happy/flirty?? I love that type of trope sm!!!

first request yEEEEE. i got this during work and practically jumped up and down 1; because i love jesper. 2; i actually didn’t think people who request. 3; because it gave me something to do when i got home lol

i hope this is up to what you were looking for! i didn’t quite have an idea for backstory in terms of your request, so i left that up to interpretation. plus, i haven’t written jesper before +++ this is the first one-shot i’ve written IN AGES

pairings; jesper x reader / kaz x inej + nina x matthias ( mentioned )

reader is non-gender specific because jesper is a bi-con and i want this to be seen as either female, male, non-binary pals, whatever one identifies with!

warnings; like one or two swearwords? guns, the usual soc stuff? and not edited in terms of grammar, etc.

word count; 2026 ( p proud mom here )

one shot under cut!

BOATS WERE MADE TO CREATE LAUGHS

The world was cruel.

Anyone who’d lived long enough in the barrel knew that, and still, somehow, Jesper Fahey managed to be as happy as he was. Whether it be after he’d lost all of his money gambling, or during a job gone wrong? Jesper Fahey never seemed all too affected by the barrel and the shit it’d throw at The Crows. Maybe it was because he was good at hiding his affliction. Maybe he’d become used to it, and simply decided to have a better onlook when it came to such affliction. Whatever it was?

The same couldn’t be said for Y/N.

Becoming used to the affliction wasn’t in the cards for them, but hiding it was. Keeping a stoic face, always observant. There was rarely a smile on their face. Inej had coined the stoic look as ‘The Brekker Stare’. Kaz had started it, but slowly Y/N grew to use it as well. It was easy to be emotionless. It made one more equipped to face danger and problems that arose. Or, that’s what Y/N’s excuse was when they were teased about using ‘The Brekker Stare’.

Missions were always the hardest to keep that stoic look on. Especially when paired with Jesper. It wasn’t that Y/N hated the boy, quite the opposite actually. They admired his ability to stay so joyful in a place such as the barrel. Sometimes they wished it was as easy as Jesper made it seem. Maybe that’s why they’d rather be paired with Nina, but that spot was reserved for Matthias - courtesy of Kaz Brekker and his secret want for them to work out their relationship. Inej was a good choice for a partner, but she worked either alone, or with Kaz. Rarely with anyone outside of those choices. Wylan made a good partner too, but Kaz and his reasons.

That left Jesper and Y/N.

The mission seemed simple enough - sneak into The Emerald Palace to gather information on what Rollin’s next move was. Eavesdropping seemed easy enough for The Crows. Inej was doing what she did best: moved quietly. Wylan posed as a new waiter, his hair tailored by Nina to appear brunette. Nina and Matthais acted as a drunk couple at the gambling table a few away from Jesper and Y/N.

“This is going to go horribly wrong,” Y/N spoke as they’d gone over the plan numerous times in their head. One, how would the Dime Lions not notice who they were? Nina was a good enough tailor, but she wasn’t a phenomenal one. Certainly not Genya Safin phenomenal. She was a heartrender after all. Two, they may not even receive the information they’d need. Three, if they were caught, that information would be useless.

“Oh come on Y/N, don’t be so down about the world. It hasn’t killed us yet,” Jesper responded. To which, Y/N simply gave a glare. Surely it hadn’t killed them, but it’d killed enough people for them to be mad at it.

“It won’t go horribly wrong as long as the two of you don’t bicker like children,” Kaz said with a wave of his cane between the two.

Gambling, a wonderful way to gather information. Whatever Kaz’s reasons for this mission was, Y/N wasn’t going to question it. They’d rather do their job, get their cut, and then return to the Slat. It was easier that way, but Jesper decided it wasn’t easier that way tonight.

“I’m raising, what do you think darling?” Jesper asked, his eyes glancing up at Y/N, who sat on his leg. 

“Raising with a hand like that?” Y/N asked out loud, raising an eyebrow. “You’re asking to be stung, dear.” They were bluffing, but doing a beautiful job so. Jesper had a royal flush - which in terms of luck tonight, was the best he’d had.

“Oh come on darling, it’s a wonderful hand. Money grabber at that!” Jesper said, his lips pouting out. Y/N would never understand how men could fall for such an act, but it seemed they didn’t have brains.

The men around them smirked, amused. They seemed to think they’d won, and with everyone raising and placing their hands down, Jesper chuckled. It was easy to play drunk men, and with Wylan continuously supplying them with alcohol, even easier to gain information.

“Boss is going to kill me,” one of the men murmured, making Y/N’s eyes shoot over in their direction. Their attention seemed taken then, eyes narrowing. Glancing down at Jesper, they nodded in the direction of the man.

“And why would that be?” One of the drunk men across the table asked. It seemed the men would do the work for Jesper and Y/N.

Easier for us, Y/N thought. Indeed it was. Words spilled from the men’s mouths, and before they’d known it, they learned of a job Rollins planned to have lined up. It was going well, until one of the men decided to become handsy with Y/N.

“A pretty one you’ve got here,” he spoke, causing Y/N to scowl. Pretty is not what you’ll be thinking when I break your nose. “Mind if I have a go at them?” The man added his hands finding their place on Y/N’s waist. Before Jesper could step in, Y/N’s leg lifted, the man doubling over at the pain that seared through his groin. 

“Touch me again, I dare you.” The commotion had caused men a part of the Dime Lions to step forward from around the room. Realizing they’d been compromised, Y/N glanced over at Wylan, nodding and then grabbing Jesper’s arm. “Close your eyes,” They said before a flash bomb went off, the room ringing as the two exited the back door, Kaz waiting mere feet away from it.

“Remember what I mentioned about not bickering like children?!” Kaz asked, rolling his eyes. Maybe if you didn’t pair us together, Brekker, we wouldn’t bicker. But Y/N knew better than to say that outloud to their boss. It was asking to be punished in some out of the box, Kaz Brekker way.

“The men got all handsy with Y/N! I must say that was rather attractive back there! Showing them who’s a badass!” Jesper yelled across the commotion as they began to run down the alleys of the barrel, leaving Kaz behind with Inej who’d jumped down as silent as the night. How she did that, Jesper and Y/N would contemplate together.

“This is not the time Jesper!” Y/N yelled, rolling their eyes.

“Oh come on, no flirting with me?!” 

“Jesper, we’re being chased by Dime Lions wanting to murder us, no I’m not going to flirt with you right now!” Then Y/N slipped down one of the alleyways, pulling Jesper’s arm. Coming to the edge of the canal Kaz had prepped with a boat in case this happened, Y/N jumped down into the boat with Jesper.

“Go,” Y/N said to Rotty who had been waiting. Then down the canal they were going. Out of breath and going down the canal, the trio rest in silence for a few moments.

“For a mission gone wrong, I’d say that was pretty successful,” Jesper said, showing the money he’d managed to grab from the table before the two of them had to run.

“Money? That’s what you call successful? It’ll be gone by tomorrow night at the Crow Club, we both know that,” Y/N said, huffing as they became situated on the boat. It was small, but it made do for the three on the boat. Their face held the usual stoic look, but just the smallest bit of anger broke through.

“The Brekker Stare is happening again, but is that . . . is that anger I see?” Jesper teased his face falling into the same look Y/N currently held.

“Jesper, this isn’t funny. We almost just died. Kaz is going to kill us. Are none of the consequences we’re going to experience angering you?” Y/N asked, their stoic face falling into semi panic. They were so going to experience the wrath of Kaz Brekker when they were safe and back at the Slat. Or the Crow Club. Whichever one they were found at first.

“All the information we just gathered? Is worth nothing because Rollins knows we were there. What was the one thing we were all supposed to manage?” Y/N wasn’t sure who they were mad at more. The man at the Emerald Palace was one of the people they were mad at, but also Jesper for always somehow, even after almost dying, being so flirty and happy. They’d never understand it.

“Getting out silently,” Jesper huffed. He knew Y/N was right, but he couldn’t help himself. Having a crush on your mission partner never made things easy. “But come on, you got to see me looking this dashing tonight,” he reminded, winking.

“I’m really beginning to think you don’t care for your life,” Y/N said with a small shake of their head, just the smallest laugh leaving their lips. Guns and all, Jesper still seemed oblivious to the fact that they’d just been shot at and found out by Pekka Rollins.

“Was that a laugh?” Jesper said with wide eyes, smirking.

Dammit. “No, no it wasn’t,” Y/N said, composing them-self.

“Oh yes it was, and it was angelic. You should laugh more. Do less of The Brekker Stare and more of The Y/N Angelic Laugh,” Jesper deemed, smiling like an idiot.

Then they couldn’t hold it in, and Y/N let the laugh completely consume them. “The Y/N Angelic Laugh? You’ve already coined it?”

“Indeed I did, and I will be taking full credit for this one. Inej took The Brekker Stare from me. This one is coined by me, Jesper Fahey, from this day, until the last.” Jesper had spent years trying to make Y/N laugh, and he’d almost deemed it impossible - but he always had his ways, and they finally had worked.

“I think I’ll be asking Inej to recoin it, thank you,” Y/N spoke as they exited the boat, thanking Rotty. They tossed their green outfit off, their usual black attire hidden underneath. Unaware of Jesper behind them, checking them out per usual.

“I think not. Inej wouldn’t believe I even made you laugh. Do you want her to know you can show emotion that isn’t being angry or pessimistic?” Jesper asked, standing from the boat. He loved teasing Y/N. It was among his favorite pastimes.

Y/N simply rolled their eyes, kicking Jesper in the shin. “I’ll have you know that the girls have seen me laugh.”

“Why don’t I believe that for a second?” Jesper asked. Because it isn’t entirely true. But why would Y/N give Jesper that satisfaction? They weren’t sure. Maybe it was because for once, they were experiencing feelings they hadn’t in a while.

“Because, the girls wouldn’t tell you if I had laughed.”

“No, no. Nina tells us everything. She tells us when Matthias checks her out, how Kaz does his little glance at Inej every time we’re about to leave for a mission, about how I stare at you for too long. I think she’d tell me about you laughing,” Jesper declared, making Y/N stop in their tracks.

He was good. They’d give him that. “You stare at me for too long?” Y/N turned their boot skidding along the wet concrete of Ketterdam.

“Oh yes, Nina declares it’s because I find you attractive, which I do, but you already knew that,” Jesper said, shrugging.

“Hmm,” Y/N simply said, their lips quirking for a moment in thought. “Fine, they haven’t heard me laugh,” and that was the only thing Y/N said before turning back to walk towards the Crow Club, leaving Jesper there with a dorkish grin.

As Jesper began to follow, he chuckled. “I made Y/N L/N laugh,” and with a skip and pull of his coat in victory, he declared he’d hear that sound again.

#jesper fahey #jesper six of crows #jesper x milo #soc jesper #six of crows #crooked kingdom #kanej #kaz x inej #jesper x reader #shadow and bone #one shot #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #nina zenik #wylan van eck #wylan van sunshine #fluffy #fanfiction

[elliotoille]

Do you have any advice for understanding hands better? I’ve been practicing them for years but feel like compared to other aspects of anatomy it’s the one thing I haven’t seen much improvement in. I draw both from life and images and draw nearly everyday but nothing I’m doing seems to help

I personally get by mostly from remembering poses that I’ve already practiced a ton, like I figure out how to draw it once and am able to file that away in my brain and use it again later, and tweak bits of the pose or the level of simplification to suit what I’m drawing. 

I’ve paid special attention to drawing hands for like.... most of my life so I have a LOT of poses I’m easy comfy with now, but when I need to figure out something complicated or new, I can usually work it out by breaking a hand down into shapes, remembering a few key points/”rules” from what I’ve learned about hands in order to help me break it down in a way that makes sense. And if that’s not enough either, then I take photo refs. 

^^^ here is a pose I use a ton. I have a quick way of drawing it from various angles. the first time I had to draw a pose like this, I had to think and figure it out, but in drawing it a bunch of times and having to use various angles like this, I’ve eventually come up with a quick, reliable way to draw it from a few of the most common angles that fits the style I like to draw in. I’m blessed with a good memory for observations, so when I see a beautifully posed hand, I can usually really quickly analyze what I like about that pose and why, and that helps me absorb it so I can recreate my saved impression later. But I know not everyone thinks the same way. it might benefit you to quickly scribble down a study in a sketchbook when you see a pose you find beautiful and want to learn from for later.

^^^ here are some poses I had to stop and spend time figuring out, calling up the “rules” for how hands are built to kind of logic-out how they should look from angles I’m less familiar with. results can be mixed, but... if I end up with something expressive that fits the style of the rest of the drawing, I’m usually really forgiving of fudged anatomy or slightly wonky proportions. as long as the thumb is on the right side and there aren’t too many fingers, that’s a great start lol.

^^^ and here are ones I had to take reference-selfies for. I try to use this as a last resort because 1) it’s a lot of trouble 2) interrupts my drawing and 3) if I’m not careful I stick too close to the reference, and the drawing ends up with the hand looking referenced and the rest of the pose not, which is jarring to me. not to mention I have tiny manlet wrists that without fail, look horrific and emaciated in photos, and the lens distortion makes my fingers look scary too... ugh, photo reference has definite flaws. I actually don’t like the look of drawings for which I can Really Tell the artist drew from photo reference, because most often that means they’re taking the ref too much at face value and incorporating ugly lens distortions into their drawing. so I have to think extra hard not only about interpreting the ref, but also might have to make multiple passes just to get the hand to look normal, AND match the style of the rest of the drawing.

Anyway, here are some of the ““rules””” I mentioned earlier that I fall back on to help me figure out more complicated poses:

1. probably seen this before, but basic proportions. the palm is usually half the total height of the hand. obviously you can mess with this purposefully. 

2. I think of joints as like, ball joints or hinges. I find that easier than trying to remember bones & muscles. here’s a drawing of the wrist as a hinge. note that when you’re thinking of it this way, it’s a shortcut, but a shortcut is only good if you use it with precision. notice the pin for the wrist hinge is not just halfway, it’s closer to the top of the hand. being precise about that is what allows this shortcut to work. the heel of the palm juts out, while the top of the hand transitions into the wrist quite smoothly.

3. simplified planes. planes are important yo. in super simple terms: top is flat, bottom is round. this works on the fingers too, actually. the tops are bony and tendony, and the bottom is where the fat is, so it’s rounder and soft

thinking of the hand as abstract shapes REALLY helps simplify the task of drawing hands, and is just as helpful even if you are drawing from reference. I can say “the palm is a box” and obviously the palm is not really as simple as a box, but if I think of the palm, wrist, and each finger joint as various shapes of box, then all of a sudden, psychologically, my task is SO much easier. I’m not drawing a Hand, which is hard, I’m drawing boxes, which is easy.

4. that prominent knob some people have on their wrist? that’s on the pinky side.

1. the knuckles aren’t really a flat row on top. the hand is like a cup right, so your palm can hold water and things. so we can think of the hand as a box to make figuring out the pose easier, but when it comes down to it, you’ll want to make it more of a curve. this curve is why you can see multiple fingers in a side view

2. when curled up, the fingers nestle together. the fingernails also turn slightly toward the center. even if I’m simplifying the hands significantly, I usually still draw the fingernails because they are SO useful for communicating the pose of the hand effectively.

3. lots of people suggest to think of the hand as a mitten, grouping the pinky/ring/middle fingers and singling out the index finger. this works great, the index finger is more independent from the other three. on the flip side, those three are really stuck together; if you’re drawing the pinky curled up all the way, then you better not draw the ring finger sticking straight up, cause that would HURT. anyway, singling out the index finger leads to more interesting poses in my experience.

1. this is another illustration of top = flat and bottom = curved. this is a really easy way to organize your line quality. straight lines and sharper angles where there is bone, and soft gentle lines where there is muscle and fat. your drawing as a whole will read very clearly if you find some guidelines like that to stick to, as it means all your lines are intentional and thoughtful.

2. this one’s about overlaps. when forms overlap, it makes a crease, and when you draw that crease you’re communicating which form is in front of the other. in the second drawing I reversed all the creases, and it looks.... messed up. think about how pieces connect.

so when you’re trying to make up a pose without using specific reference, I think it’s good to think about the.... flow of energy through the pose. honestly, I know it’s really abstract, but if I have an ability to make interesting poses that communicate weight and movement, the things that make people say your character feels ALIVE, like they really EXIST in a space... it’s because I started to think of poses this way. imagining streams of energy bouncing through the body, flowing down the limbs and out through the fingers. this is why hands are so important to me, cause they’re where the kinetic energy of the pose ultimately ends up. I talk about it when drawing the torso and arms and legs, but an interesting drawing has a bounce back and forth between opposites: for every curve, an opposing straight line, alternating back and forth down the entire body. if you’re sensitive to the energy of the pose, then even very simple poses will be interesting to look at.

anyway, with regards to hands, I imagine the energy getting sort of cinched in as it passes through the wrist, and then emanating out through the fingertips. I hope my drawing at least SORT of communicates this imagery. it makes sense because that’s BASically how the bones in the hand are anyway. and then the right side of the image above is just demonstrating some highly simplified gestures. see how the fingers fan out and curl in, rarely parallel to eachother. when you’re figuring out the pose, using a line to stand in for the row of knuckles is super valuable.

aaand finally, here’s two hands where I intentionally neglected correct anatomy and proportion because I felt it worked better for the style of the whole drawing. Left side: since this is a really simple and cartoonish style, I was thinking back to kids’ and shoujo manga I have read where the style was very solid and distinctive, but definitely NOT overly concerned with correct anatomy, or even really drawing hands, uh, “well” at all. to me, that sort of approach has a Look that I like to invoke sometimes, since for years I felt like I learned a bunch of anatomy and proportion and drawing from life actually in detriment to the liveliness and appealness of my drawings. this hand is mushy and makes very little sense, but it turned out as intended. Right side: sometimes I like to pretend fingers only have 2 bones in them, cause i am a Queen and i do what i want

and there you go. I hope that helped, like, at all? Look at real hands and photos of hands and hands in motion, but also look at drawn hands as well. find what you like, and work towards expressing that yourself. and remember the hand is part of the whole drawing. not only in the art style like I’d been talking about, but because the angle and placement of the hand is reflected in the angles of the arm, which in turn reflects on the angles of the shoulder, which affects the whole torso, etc etc etc. and the techniques you can use to understand and draw the rest of the body, works on hands too. as you improve everything else, your hands will improve as well.

DISCLAIMER: I whipped up these diagrams quickly, they’re not meant to be good drawings or accurate refs, just diagrams to illustrate my thought process lol

#god im long winded as usual #Anonymous

[cloud-9ine]

Through a Golden Lens (pt 1)

⤷ pairing - hawks x (fem) reader

⤷ fandom - bnha 

⤷ warnings - some language, hawks flirting, reader’s cynicism 

⤷ summary - reader is a bitter, overworked photographer at a hero press agency with little patience for her newly assigned muse- hawks

⤷ word count - 4.5k+

⤷ notes - i have lots of ideas so this is probably going to be a multi-part series. also new to tumblr so this might not be the best

⤷ pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6

“Mr. Hawks! Please look this way!” his heavy lidded eyes rolled to the side as another blinding flash burned through his vision. 

“You look perfect, thank you!” it was hard to smile for their benefit, but he managed. Hawks had attended countless of these events for the press. It had been exhilarating at first, with the rush of adrenaline from the cameras and the lights and the endless stream of compliments solidifying his place in the public eye.

Nowadays, it was less thrilling. After a while, they all seemed the same- each one blurring into a senseless flare of cameras and hollow accolades.

He was bored, to say the least.

“Mr Hawks, would you like to come and see? I’d love to hear your opinion on this set!” with a practiced, easy smirk he nodded. It was easier to pander to the artist than to criticise their work. 

He looked good, but when did he not? The shoots were easy to glide through. All he had to do was pull a boyish grin, ‘make love to the camera’ as the photographers always liked to spout. It didn’t really matter what he did: the public would eat up anything with his face slapped on to the front. They all looked the same to him, anyway.

“Looks good,” he wondered why people were so easily satiated by shallow praises, but as he stared at the younger lady’s blush, he couldn’t help but realise that maybe it was him who had something to do with it.

Hawks couldn’t help his gaze from drifting to the door. His skin prickled in the humidity of all the moving bodies in one enclosed space and he longed to take a step outside and stretch his wings in a way that wasn’t to pose for a magazine. 

For a moment, he felt like his prayers had been answered when the door opened, letting in a stream of natural light to breach the artificiality of the modelling room. 

”(L/N)! You were supposed to be here over three hours ago!” the woman in front of him exclaimed, ripping the camera away from his view and marching to the figure that appeared in the light. He blinked in surprise: this entire shoot he hadn’t heard her raise her voice above anything but a low mumble when conversing with him, and now she was positively fuming.

You stared down at your co-worker through honey-tinted shades, expression unamused.

“Yeah, and I was also supposed to be out of this job three years ago. We don’t all do what we’re supposed to, cupcake.”

For a moment, Hawks thought you were a model. Tasteful cream turtleneck tucked into heavily creased mocha skirt, caramel beret perched on your head. There were a few metal, classy looking rings wrapped around your fingers, but as far as he could see, no wedding ring. It was pretty standard style for those who worked in the arts, but somehow you wore it so well. 

Your hair was a little dishevelled, and the dark circles under your eyes combined with the coffee cup in your hand were obvious signs of a rough night. His eyes locked on to the loopy black handwriting on the brown band around the cup.

(L/N) (Y/N)

You were no model, but Hawks couldn’t see the difference.

His wings beat lightly behind his back as he glided over, weaving through the other photographers and models scattered around the area. 

“Hey there, I’m Hawks,” he said smoothly, voice saccharine as he spoke to you. Your attention turned to him as you glanced at him from above the frames of your sunglasses, seemingly unimpressed.

“This the new boytoy, Mizuki?” you asked, eyes raking up and down his figure. Hawks was never one to shy away from the gaze of others, but the way you were inspecting him made him feel so exposed.

“Show some respect,” Mizuki muttered, voice lowered at Hawks’ presence but glare still piercing. You sighed, sparing one last glance at Hawks before snatching the camera out of Mizuki’s hands, leaving her scrambling for the device as you walked away.

“Lemme see what you’ve got already,” Mizuki’s face grew red, half from anger towards you, and half because of the embarrassment of being diminished in front of Hawks.

“(L/N) y-you can’t just come in three hours late and take over! I’ve already done the shoot and Hawks has already expressed that he is pleased with the outcome,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes and shooting the shorter woman a glare over your shoulder.

“There’s no way you’re gonna force me to come into work and make me sit here doing nothing,” you sneered, waving the camera around almost teasingly, “you wanted someone actually skilled to do this shoot, and here I am. Let me do my thing,” without waiting for a response, you left, thumb fumbling with the dial that allowed you to scroll through the photos.

Hawks was impressed. You hadn’t bat an eye when you saw him, and while you were very clearly very late, you were confident in your skills and obviously took your job seriously.

“Who was that?” he questioned, wings spreading slightly as his eyes chased after you. Mizuki bowed her head, remorse filling her expression.

“I apologise for her impertinence. That’s (L/N), she was who your original photographer was supposed to be today, but when she didn’t show up I had to take over,” she huffed, “she’s been like this for about a year now, and the boss is prepared to fire her if she keeps it up. So you’d think she’d be able to pull her at together for you, Mr. Hawks...”

After a while, Hawks tuned out her whining, eyes curiously trained on you, surveying your furrowed brows and expression pinched with annoyance as you studied the photos. Although they looked good enough to him, it appeared that you didn’t share the same sentiment. 

Hawks didn’t have time to avert his eyes when you turned your head, gaze locking on to his. You raised a slightly suspicious brow, but otherwise didn’t entertain his actions. 

“Mizuki, why would you use cool lighting?” you called over your shoulder, not even sparing the decency to turn around and face the person you were addressing. Mizuki frowned, moving to your side. Like a magnet, Hawks did the same, peering over your other shoulder. You eyed him from the corner of your vision for a second before tapping the screen. 

“What do you mean?” you sighed at your co-workers words, evidently frustrated.

“Considering you have bird boy over here in dark academia, accented in warmer yellows, using cool lights will bring out too much of a contrast. We need to match the accent colours with warmer lighting, or use a overlay,” you muttered, seemingly addressing yourself more than the two of them. Mizuki just shook her head.

“That would just oversaturate the image,” you snorted, giving her the same patronising look an adult would give a child if they tried to outsmart them.

“Not necessarily. I could spot-reduce saturation in highlight areas during editing. Or, if you really want your contrast, I could neutralise the warmer shades by using a blue, or compliment them using a red,” Hawks didn’t miss the way you said ‘I’ instead of ‘we’. Mizuki looked agitated, her frown growing deeper.

“Even so, we only have white backdrops. That would be a jarring contrast. You’d need something darker or more clustered to make it work. If you wanted a backdrop change you probably should’ve come earlier,” she spoke with a formality that obviously stemmed from Hawks next to her, but you paid no mind. You were silent for a moment, and Hawks could see your eyes narrowing as you were thinking.

“I need a natural background, huh?” you mumbled, thumbing the buttons on the camera. With a shrug, “alright, bird boy, come on, we’re leaving,” Hawks blinked in surprise as you spun on your heel, a grin breaking onto his face. Finally, he got to leave.

“Whatever you say, boss,” you shot him an irritated look.

“Don’t call me that. I’m 22, not 40,” his feathers ruffled up. “Hey, I’m also 22! What a coincidence, right?” he grinned, winking at you. You just responded by rolling your eyes.

Mizuki spluttered, trying in vain to get either one of you to stop as Hawks trailed after you.

“L-Look, you can’t just leave-” you turned, shoving the camera back into her hands, a mirthless smile on your face.

“Watch me,” your voice was cold, goading her to try and stop you, “bird boy, out, now.” Hawks didn’t have to be told twice. Some of the others whispered and muttered as they realised what was going on, but they all fell quiet when you shot them a sharp glare.

He breathed in the fresh air with a content sigh, his chest feeling lighter now he was out the cramped room. The amber glow from the late afternoon sun kissed his tanned skin as he stretched his arms above his head, his forearms flexing slightly under his dark blazer. His eyes shut in bliss and head tilted back, exposing his sharp jawline.

You eyed him slightly, eyes trailing across his features. Now that you had actually left, you were a little lost on what your plan was. You didn’t regret storming out of there, though, nor did you even consider turning back to apologise.

You took your own camera out of the dark camera bag slung across your body, careful not to scratch it on the tripod, and focused the lens on Hawks. It was smaller, a little more compact than the ones Mizuki and the others were using, but you found that it was much better suited for portrait work. 

The click of the camera shutter brought Hawks out of his stupor, eyes snapping open and immediately landing on you. Your attention had already been diverted to the screen, studying your work. 

“The modelling room is stuffy, I’ll give you that,” you mumbled, zooming in on his face, “but you can stretch while we walk,” Hawks leaned over you, eyes sparkling at the shot.

“Aw, you make me look so good, I’m flattered!” you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be,” you took a large sip of your coffee, moving down the pathway as you thought. Hawks scrambled after you, his wings puffing out when he reached your side. You couldn’t help but gaze at the bright red feathers as he unfurled his wings, a small, happy chirping noise rumbling at the back of his throat once they were fully spread behind your back. They were warm, you noticed, feeling the heat through your turtleneck. 

Your vision was filled with a cheeky smirk painted on full lips, Hawks’ face appearing in front of your eyes. Your eyes narrowed as you sized him up.

“See something you like?” you rolled your eyes as he purred. 

“Not in the slightest, bird brain,” his wings beat behind his back, hand clutching the fabric on his chest.

“Oh, how you wound me!” Hawks cried, and you couldn’t help but smile slightly, which you quickly covered with your coffee cup. 

“I’m sure you’ll face a villain that will do greater damage than I could,” he hummed, angling his face towards the sun. 

“So, where are we headed?” you chewed on your bottom lip, slinging your camera over your shoulder. 

“It can’t be anywhere with lots of traffic, you attract a lot of attention, you know?” it was a rhetorical question, but Hawks’ chest still puffed out in pride at your words.

“Thanks, it’s because of my raging-”

“Shut up,” you cut him off, “either way, I have a pounding headache and I do not have enough shits to give to put up with your fan girls today,” with a sigh, you rubbed your temples. Hawks stared at your clenched teeth.

“Hey, why do you-” “I think I know where we can go,” he frowned.

“You know it’s not polite to interrupt people like that-”

“Sunflowers.” your tone dripped finality as you faced Hawks, a brazen determination in your eyes he hadn’t seen until now. It made his breath hitch in his throat.

Breathy chuckle escaping his lips, and eyebrows furrowed when you sped your pace, gulping down more of your coffee.

“Uh, what?” you waved a hand dismissively.

“There’s a sunflower field in Fukuroi City, I think it’s west from here,” the tiniest of grins etched onto your features, “it’s gonna be a lot more interesting than the rest of those blank background. Plus, the yellow will compliment your clothes, and with the sun low in the sky I’ll get my perfect warm lighting,” you explained. Hawks wasn’t sure exactly how much of a difference it would make, but the idea seemed charming, and it was more exciting than being perpetually flanked by a white screen.

“Sounds good,” he chirped, “although, to be honest, you could take me out anywhere and I wouldn’t mind,” you rolled your eyes. 

“That’s a shame, because I don’t intend to hang around any more than I have to,” Hawks pouted, crossing his arms.

“Come on, I wanna know more about you!” you bristled.

“Good for you.” the two of you fell into a beat of silence before Hawks smiled, undaunted.

“I’m sure I can win you over somehow,” shaking your head in disbelief, you lifted the cup to your lips, before looking down disappointedly when you realised it was empty.

“I don’t have enough coffee for this,” you muttered. Hawks’ expression brightened. 

“That’s an easy fix: your agency is around here so you must know there area pretty well,” he spoke nonchalantly, as if he was on a casual lunch date and not in the most expensive outfit you’d seen in your entire life, “what’s the best place to grab a coffee?” for a moment, you looked taken aback, before shaking your head.

“Best café in these parts is the Sunset Hour,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck, “but as much as I have no inhibitions regarding bunking off work, that’s a little too far away. I need to take this pictures before the end of the day or Mizuki’ll submit those crappy ones she took in the studio,” Hawks nodded in understanding, smile never faltering for a second.

“Well I gotta get you your caffeine fix somewhere, so what’s the second best?” your expression scrunched in thought for a moment, before you jutted a thumb over your shoulder.

“There’s a Starbucks across the road,” he snickered seeing your blank expression.

“Not exactly where I would want our first date, but I suppose it’ll do,” rolling your eyes, you shoved the empty cup to his chest, which he gripped almost instinctively. 

“Good thing this isn’t a date, then,” Hawks grinned, sending your empty cup on a feather to the nearest bin before chasing after you as you crossed the road. You didn’t spare him a single glance when he appeared at your shoulder, nor when he reached over above your head to open the Starbucks door from behind you.

“So you’re saying we can have our first date somewhere else?” with a shallow sigh, you shook your head.

“What I’m saying is that there’s not gonna be a first date. Not between us,” his chest tightened. God, you were so mean. He’d be into that.

The inside of the Starbucks was a mix between modern, western architecture and traditional Japanese woodwork. The equipment was all cutting edge, and the tables and chairs were made with a sleek mahogany, but the windows were framed with bamboo shutters, and the backroom was separated with shoji sliding doors. It was an curious blend, one that you studied with an interest. The deep, earthy scent of roasted coffee beans heavily imbued the air, filling your nose with the aroma of something far more familiar. 

Given it was the late afternoon, and most people tended not to drink caffeine after 2pm, the patrons were few and far in between. Good for you, at least. It meant you wouldn’t get- “Hawks? Sorry to bother you but can we get a picture?” your head turned at the voice that rung out.

Two high school girls stood to your left, hands clutched together in front of their chests and a dark pink coating their cheeks. With a small sigh, you took a step forward in the small queue. Hawks smiled with all the faux charm in the world, an obvious change in his demeanour as his pride spiked.

“Of course! And just as it happens, I have my personal photographer here who can make sure your photos look amazing as you two do!” it took you a moment to register what he had said through the excited squeals of the girls before he clutched your shoulders and pulled you forward, causing you to stumble slightly. 

“Your what?” he sent you an audacious smirk, willing you to play along as one of the girls handed you her phone. Your first instinct was to decline, but as you met the eyes of the girls, so eager and bright, you couldn’t find it in you to disappoint them. 

Taking a couple steps back, you lifted the phone, slightly angling it so the picture looked more natural, and not that of a celebrity and their fans (even if it was). You squinted angrily at the poor lighting, but tried to rectify it the best you could. The girls looked a little tense, but Hawks was a natural. A liberal smirk played on his lips and shoulders rolled back, relaxed. Even with the low lighting, the highlights on his cheekbone and jawline were indescribably perfect, and you weren’t sure if the credit should go to you or his god-like genes.

“Wow, that’s perfect!” one of the girls cried, her body appearing by your side. You hadn’t even noticed her moving, “thank you so much!” you just nodded, handing her back her phone and crossing your arms, eyes narrowing at Hawks.

“If that’s all, ladies, we best be ordering,” they nodded frantically at Hawks’ words, sharply bowing and spouting their thanks to the two of you countless times. They left the Starbucks, but even outside you could still hear them fawning over the picture. He faced you with a grin, but you couldn’t muster up a smile.

“Don’t go around telling people I’m your personal photographer,” you sneered. He pouted, looking genuinely disappointed for a second. “What, you don’t wanna be mine?” “Not in the slightest.” 

“What will be your order, Miss?” the barista had directed the question at you, but it was clear his attention was elsewhere. You weren’t surprised, but a small swell of annoyance grew in your mind.

“Can I have a mocha with a double shot of expresso?” Hawks chuckled.

“Might as well have an expresso, you know. You’re basically just taking a shot of caffeine,” you shrugged.

“It’s my favourite drink. I like the chocolate taste,” he looked at you with round eyes, a small squeeze in his chest.

“And you, sir?”

“Oh, I’ll have the same, then,” he didn’t miss the way your eyes darted to him. The barista nodded, tapping for a couple seconds before turning back.

“That’ll be 660 yen,” “I’m paying,” Hawks blurted, even before you could offer. You were silent, a small nod in the affirmative rocking your head. As he handed over the bills, he chuckled. “You know, not that I mind, but usually couples would argue over who’s paying,” you rolled your eyes.

“We’re not a couple,” you watched the barista prepare your drinks, more of a way to occupy yourself rather than a genuine interest, “besides, you’re a lot richer than I am. I don’t mean to be impolite, but I’m sure you can lose 600 yen and still be good,” he hummed happily.

“No disagreements there.” “Are you two eating in or taking out?” the barista asked, in the midst of securing the plastic lids to the top of the cups. Hawks’ eyes sparkled as he turned to you with an excitement you assumed only appeared in children.

“Hey, we can-” “Take out,” you responded, giving a now deflated Hawks a challenging look, “I will leave you here if I have to.” the blonde grinned. “You wouldn’t. You need me for the pictures,” he sang, voice jovial.

“I don’t care about you that much. The sunflowers are probably less annoying subjects anyway,” oh. With no warning, his heart beat sped up, his wings puffing out slightly. Sure, he wouldn’t mind if you were a little nicer to him, but your insults were like a breath of fresh air. There was no doubt that Hawks loved the limelight, loved the popularity he got, but the relentless ass-kissing got old after a while. You kept him on his toes. Even if he was just constantly chasing after you every time you brushed him off, he didn’t care. 

“Put those away, bird brain,” it was then he realised his wings had spread further than he intended, stretched out on either side of him. One was curled right around his face, and he almost felt himself blushing as he pulled them in. It was just animal instincts, he assured himself. 

The rest of the journey was filled with a one-sided conversation of him talking and commenting on what was around you, with no response from you except the occasional witty retort or light-hearted jab at his expense, each one making his heart flutter. It wasn’t too long before you had arrived, the chain link fence around the plot stretching high above your head and corroded with orange rust. 

Rows and rows of bright yellow sunflowers stretched to the horizon, an immense display of summer vitality. The fragrance was potent, a sort of cloying sweetness that you didn’t hate. And just as you were about to enter, you knew you had made a mistake. 

“Oh.” Hawks stared at you incredulously, attention switching from your taken aback expression to the sign posted on the gate.

“You didn’t check to see it was open?” you looked up at him, allowing him to survey a tinge of remorse he hadn’t recognised until this point. 

“Look, how was I supposed to know? This place has always been open at this time since I was a little kid,” you rubbed your arm, brows furrowed. Hawks sighed, rolling his shoulders back.

“Well, the sun’s too low to go anywhere else outside,” he shrugged, “it’s no biggie, I guess. Those other photos weren’t too bad. Hey, now that we’re free, do you want to- what are you doing?” your foot was halfway in the gaps in the gate, the wedges on your heels making it hard to climb.

“I’m not wasting my day for nothing,” you growled, fingers curling around the metal, “get climbing, bird boy,” with a soft sigh, smile gracing his lips and a warm feeling in his chest, Hawks spread his wings.

“I think you’re forgetting something that’ll make this a lot easier,” you felt a cool draft on your back as Hawks flapped his wings, the feeling being quickly replaced by the warmth of his chest as he pulled you in. A foreign emotion coiled in your stomach, but you convinced yourself that it was just the flight.

One arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other supporting your knees, and all Hawks was thinking that such a gentle flight never felt so calming. 

Your feet tapped against the soft soil, sinking in to it slightly when the hero placed you down. You nodded your thanks.

“Let’s go over there, I want the sun coming in from the right,” Hawks nodded, content to just follow your orders. You pulled the tripod from your bag and set it up, adjusting it to your liking as Hawks looked around, trying to think of a pose. 

Once everything was ready, you turned your attention to Hawks.

“I want to humanise you,” he grinned curiously as you walked over.

“What do you mean by that?” he nearly gasped when you grabbed his chin, angling his face to the side and slightly up, towards the sun. You took a step closer, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. He bit his lip, hands trembling as you tugged slightly, trying to mess it up a little.

“All the photos I’ve seen on you always put a huge emphasis on either your wings or your hero status, and I don’t really see why,” you mumbled, placing one hand on his jawline while the other fixed his hair to your liking, letting a few strands fall in front of his eyes, “I think that just creates a divide. If they wanted you to seem angelic they should play that up, not just have it the norm,” you huffed, “anyway, I wanna put the emphasis on you and not your wings. So ideally if you could tuck them behind your back that would be wonderful,” 

Hawks nodded, disappointment filling him as you stepped away. He made sure not to move as he awkwardly folded his wings over each other and pulled them in, glancing at you with a look of apprehension. You just nodded in approval, leaning down to your camera. 

You took plenty of shots, allowing him plenty more opportunities to feel your hands on him (and he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it). 

“Hey, why were you so late today?” Hawks dared to question while you were analysing your photos. You were perched on a bench, appreciating your work. The late sun cast a golden sheen on his skin, the spattering of glimmering rays highlighting his face in all the right places. 

“I was sleeping,” you responded, deleting an out of focus shot. His eyes narrowed.

“What?” “Just as it sounds. Figured if they were gonna make me work so I could only have three hours of sleep a night it was gonna be on their time, not mine,” he frowned, taking a seat next to you.

“They shouldn’t work you that hard,” you shrugged with a hollow laugh, blank gaze in your eyes. 

“What am I gonna do? Have them fire me? As much as I hate this job it’s the only thing that pays for my coffee in the morning,” he was silent as you stood up, stretching your arms behind your bag before tucking everything back in your bag. 

“Did you want to be a photographer?” he questioned, only to be met with a forlorn smile.

“Maybe at one point.” the two of you lapsed into silence before you sighed.

“Well, I’ve gotta submit these to Mizuki, and I’m sure you need-” Hawks caught your wrist, spinning you back around.

In the glow of the sunset, you looked almost ethereal. Your eyes gleamed, and cheeks warmed in the orange flare. Sunflowers framed your form, and the words caught in his throat, nearly stopping him from saying anything at all.

“Come work for me.” he blurted. You snorted.

“No.” all he could do was smile as you hopped back over the fence, not waiting up for him.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought you’d say.”

#hawks #takami #keigo #takami keigo #keigo takami #hawks x (y/n) #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #takami x reader #takami keigo x y/n #hawks fanfiction #takami keigo fanfiction #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero #my hero x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #hawks bnha #hawks mha #hawks my hero academia #hawks my hero #hawks boku no hero academia

[donaidk]

Looking at me - Arthur Leclerc

Thank you so much for requesting! I already had an idea in my head for something like this and you just gave that last push! It was my first time writing in third person, and I really-really need the practice. Still I hope you will enjoy this 😀🧡 Have a great weekend everyone!

Inspiration song

Masterlist | Taglist/Queue | Request

Getting a chance to walk a well known fashion show at the age of 19 was a huge step in her career. She had jobs and photoshoots all the time, but everyone knew that you’re becoming a name in the industry when well known brands ask you to model for them. She already had a photoshoot with one of them a year ago, but having that break since then and now made her think she probably wouldn’t make it into the real fashion world. However, after Alpha Tauri gave her a chance thanks to Pierre, she was contacted by a well known brand just days after the release of the pictures and they asked her to attend their show at the end of the year. Having the promise of such a big show got her through every harder moment throughout the year and she felt like December couldn’t turn up quick enough.

Luckily as it was well after the end of the season for Pierre he could attend with their parents and siblings. She couldn’t even imagine going through something like this without them. Y/N used her last two guest seats to invite both Charles and Arthur. They were friends of their family and she knew Charles was into fashion and would always take the opportunity to attend shows. He probably could have bought tickets to it himself, but it wasn’t the same as being invited by someone who worked for the company that time. It was also probably the only way to make it seem less strange that Y/N would have liked Arthur to attend. No one asked questions why he was there if he came with his brother. There’s no easier way to do it.

The two of them were quite good friends, as they spent most of their childhood together and later could connect over being younger siblings to well known athletes. It was probably easier for her as she at least went her own way while Arthur was following in Charles’ footsteps, exactly. He was a talented driver, but people and the media always loved to compare the brothers, always bringing down at least one of them even though they were never really in the same championship or position at the same time. They usually talked at least weekly, but after harder races or attacks from the media either Y/N reached out to him or the other way around. It was just easy to support each other as they understood each other’s challenges and hardships. They couldn’t complain though, as both had family and other friends who supported them in their careers and personal lives also.

“ They’re outside. ” Pierre’s voice got her to jump in her chair a little before Y/N took in what he said. “ I’ll get them to the seats and we will meet after the show, yeah? ” He asked, taking the passes from the table next to her. She knew they wouldn’t have time for her to greet their friends and get back here in time.

“ Yeah, thank you. Enjoy. ” Y/N nodded with a grin before getting a kiss on her cheek from him. “ I’m gonna try not to trip. ” She added with a chuckle before he left, watching as he closed the door after himself while she could still hear him laugh. She leaned back in her seat as everything was already done for the show, and it was now just minutes until the start of the show.

She finally chose a photo from the morning when we arrived at the avenue, to share it on her story. Making sure it uploaded fine she could see Arthur’s profile picture in the bottom left, telling her that he already saw it, making her smile immediately. Y/N sent him a quick selfie with her eyes closed and holding up a peace sign as the grin still didn’t leave her face. She was just about to put her phone down when he sent one back, mimicking her pose and making her laugh out loud. He did look silly and seeing Pierre so confused in the background of it just made it even better. She wanted to respond but then had to leave when they were calling her name from the hallway. With one last deep breath she fixed her hair in the mirror before leaving the dressing room and following all the girls to the backstage.

She felt like an anxious mess right until it was her turn and had to step out onto the stage as they counted down for her from the sideline. She made sure her dress wasn’t in the way of her steps, although knew they practiced for any possible outcome and knew she would manage even in a dodgy situation. Her heart was beating so loud Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if the people watching the show could hear it over all the music and talking. She still tried to look cool on the outside, her grin not faltering for one bit as she walked down the length of the stage stopping at the end and turning for the cameras. Her way back was a bit more relaxed already, knowing she did her job and just had to get back from where they started. She had one more dress at the end of the show but that seemed a lot easier after such a smooth sailing first appearance. The second one felt like a treat for a job well done and she was ecstatic as she changed into her outfit for the after party. Her body felt sore from all the excitement and then adrenaline that already left. However, her mind was still running and looking forward to the night as she went to the lobby where she knew the others would be waiting for her.

“ You looked stunning out there, Y/N! ” Charles greeted her with a tight hug, making her chuckle quietly. Stepping back from his embrace the next ones were Pierre and her family before Y/N could finally turn to Arthur, not forgetting about him in any way.

“ Thank you for coming. ” Y/N said before hugging him, although it was something that was for his brother too, not just him. “ Hope you’re not too tired yet. We have a long night ahead of us. ” She let out another laugh after letting go of him but she didn’t even get to step away too much before he held up a bouquet of blooming flowers.

“ Just a little congratulatory present. Wanted to give it to you prior to the show, but that didn’t really work out. ” He said with a little blush creeping up onto his cheeks, as she took the flowers from his hands, immediately smelling them.

“ Thank you, they’re beautiful. ” Her eyes were still fixed on the bunch of them, taking in how sweet it was of Arthur. It was made from all of her favourite types of flowers, not missing any from the short list she could make up in her head. “ I’ll make sure they get home safe. Wouldn’t want to kill them at the club. ” Y/N let out a little laugh, turning to her mum while they exited the building together.

Luckily her family offered to take her things back home while they went straight to the venue of the after party. Her other siblings went home too after some last minute hugs, leaving the four of them to be the only ones to attend. There were cars that took the guests to the rooftop bar that was decorated perfectly for the occasion. The moon was shining onto the balcony, but there were also lights running over them, making sure everything was visible and people wouldn’t trip over each other or the few steps around the bar and dancefloor. It was the perfect setting for a party that was relaxed but at the same time a true after party, where everyone could let out their pent up energy and adrenaline from the show.

Minutes after they left the elevator, that took them to the floor of the balcony, they were already standing next to a table with their drinks on it. They were watching the crowd dancing just inches away from them while discussing the day. Pierre and Charles were deep into  one of their usual disagreements about their past season, making Y/N shake her head. It wouldn’t have been them if they got through a day spent together without a silly argument. That would have been too easy. She has been watching the crowd blocking out the bickering coming from next to her, gathering courage to join the dancing even though she never backed off being the center of attention it wasn’t the same with strangers. She knew just a few people from here, almost half of it being the ones she invited herself.

“ A dance? ” She turned to Arthur in the end when she could see that his glass was empty. He froze for a second, looking around them. “ You don’t have to, but I would rather turn deaf from the loud music than them roasting each other. ” She chuckled, cocking her head towards her brother and Charles standing across them. She took the last sip of her drink and was about to get into the crowd when Arthur nodded and putting down the glass from his hand was ready to follow her.

“ I’m not a big dancer, I’m warning you. ” Arthur sighed, but wouldn’t have denied himself the chance to spend some time with her in a more private setting. They never mentioned anything about stepping up their friendship, but that didn’t mean they never thought about separately, in their own heads. 

Y/N took his hand with a grin, pulling him towards the dance floor, weaving through the people standing close, leaving them a sliver of space to navigate their way. They had to stop a few times people stumbling in their way or bumping into them while they were getting closer to their destination. Y/N saw two of the girls she knew a bit better, and decided it will be better to be with friends than alone. Arthur greeted them, quickly introducing himself and even though they were already safe, standing in a less crowded space, in the moment Y/N didn’t let go of his hand while they enjoyed the music and the company. Arthur did take part in the dancing, although several of his moves ended up making them laugh and him blush a little although it never made him stop. He was happy to be the source of their joy for the night.

A few songs later Arthur excused himself from the group to get a drink for himself, while the girls stayed in the same position. Y/N spotted a few guys just seconds after he left, watching them, and approaching their group as soon as Arthur was out of the view. They were quite rude, not caring about how the girls tried to ignore them and get them to leave finally. Y/N was about to just leave and not even look back when she felt a hand come around her waist. Without looking up at the owner of the hand she got to know who was standing behind her by just the voice.

“ I think you should search for another company. The ladies aren’t interested. ” Arthur informed the intruders and by knowing him for years, Y/N could tell he was really focusing on the pronunciation. He seemed serious, like never before and it did the trick, getting the guys to turn around and leave mumbling some swears in his way.

“ Thank you! For both. ” Y/N smiled up at their saviour, taking the half full glass from his hand as he held it out for her. Arthur just shrugged his shoulders, relaxing his shoulders and taking a sip from his drink.

What they didn’t see was Pierre and Charles paying close attention to their group from afar. Her brother still had his fists clenched but he was slowly letting up as the situation got resolved and the younger ones could continue enjoying the party and drinks. Looking at each other they agreed with a sigh at being glad Arthur was there with them and helped them get out of a sticky situation. From the outside they did see how the younger Leclerc and Y/N were around each other, although neither of them wanted to push them towards a goal. It seemed simple, inevitable, but they wanted them to find their own way. It wasn’t rare that the only possible way wasn’t the best way in the end. Meaning, even if they looked compatible for an outsider, it was possible that a relationship between them wouldn’t be long-lived.

They stayed until their legs felt sore from dancing and standing around, and their minds were in a comfortable fuzzy state from the few drinks they got. The night wasn’t young anymore when they got into a taxi, heading for Pierre’s apartment that had enough space for all four of them. They all took turns in the shower and decided on who will sleep and where. There was only one guest bedroom and in the end Charles gladly gave it up to Y/N saying she was the one who worked today, taking the couch with a duvet and a pillow. She was about to just go and finally get a chance to fall asleep, when Arthur stepped out of the bathroom now in his pajamas. For a second she debated if she should just let him sleep on the other couch or maybe act on her idea.

“ We can share the bed if you would like. It's big enough for two people. ” She offered in the end, with a shy smile, pointing towards the bedroom down the hallway. “ I promise I won’t snore. Unlike Charl. ” Y/N let out a quiet laugh, making sure the mentioned brother didn’t hear it and wouldn’t try to get back at her for it.

Arthur had to agree with a sigh that sleeping in the same room as her brother, would have been on the same level as some late torture methods. He couldn’t really deny the offer, taking his things as they wished goodnight to the others and walked down to the bedroom. Within seconds they were both under the duvet, managing to share it and not pull it off the other one. They did start out quite far away from each other, but Y/N couldn’t be fed up when she woke up in the middle of the night to an arm draping over her waist. It grounded her while she had to get used to her surroundings and helped her get back to her dream right until the delicious smell of lunch got them back to reality around midday. They shared a moment, gazes locking, before getting out of bed with grins on their faces, both deciding to push the conversation to another time. At least until lunch, as Y/N’s stomach grumbled as soon as she was standing next to the bed.

#arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc fanfiction #arthur leclerc fanfic #arthur leclerc fic #arthur leclerc oneshot #arthur leclerc imagine #pierre gasly #charles lecrelc #f1 #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 oneshot #f1 imagine #bydonaidk

[tarisilmarwen]

Thanks for asking! As far as sources on the Jedi and their no attachment thing? It's the prequels themselves. A scared kid missing his mom is "greedy?" Yikes. Why would they take kids from birth families if they thought healthy family connections existed? And friendships? It stands to reason that a close platonic friendship (especially with an outsider) would pose the same threat as a love interest. An ally or acquaintance wouldn't be a threat, but love (platonic/familial/romantic) is a threat.

I think you might be misattributing Lucas’ comments to that particular scene.

There's plenty of quotes where he talks about Anakin's "greed” (here's the most comprehensive collection I've found) but none of them are specifically about the scene where the Council tests him as a child, they're all either speaking in general terms about what his issues are or specifically about when he loses her.

“He turns into Darth Vader because he gets attached to things. He can’t let go of his mother; he can’t let go of his girlfriend. He can’t let go of things. It makes you greedy. And when you’re greedy, you are on the path to the dark side, because you fear you’re going to lose things, that you’re not going to have the power you need.”

“The key part of this scene ultimately is Anakin saying "I’m not going to let this happen again.” We’re cementing his determination to become the most powerful Jedi. The only way you can really do that is to go to the Dark Side because the Dark Side is more powerful. If you want the ultimate power you really have to go to the stronger side which is the Dark Side, but ultimately it would be your undoing. But it’s that need for power and the need for power in order to satisfy your greed to keep things and to not let go of things and to allow the natural course of life to go on, which is that things come and go, and to be able to accept the changes that happen around you and not want to keep moments forever frozen in time.”

So with that context it becomes clearer that it’s not that Anakin misses his mom, it’s that he has a distinct inability to let go and accept loss and change, something which is foreshadowed earlier in the film when he tells Shmi “I can’t do it... I don’t want things to change.” and she replies: “You can’t stop the change, any more than you can stop the suns from setting.”  It’s not that he misses her, it’s he won’t admit his fear of losing her (denies it defensively when the Council probes him about it), and his fear of losing things makes him clingy, and that clinginess leads to an obsession to keep possession of the things that he believes “belong” to him.  That is what Lucas, and by extension the Jedi, mean when they talk about attachment, it’s that unhealthy need to hold fast to things and keep things the same and the desire for the power to keep holding onto those things, the willingness to screw everything else but the thing you are attached to.

You can love someone deeply without being attached to them, without being afraid of them eventually disappearing from your life in one fashion or another.

Force Sensitives are a vulnerable class because their psychic wizard mind powers magnify any emotional problems they have tenfold, which is why they’re taught from a young age how to manage their powers, how to love people deeply without having unhealthy attachments to them, how to be mindful and admit their feelings and confront their fears.  It’s much easier to build up the foundations of mindfulness and self-examination and discipline that the Jedi need to keep their powers in check if they take the kids in at a very young age, before they have a chance to--as Anakin did--develop unhealthy thought patterns of denial and suppression.

On birth families, from what little we do know about Jedi adoption practices they don’t take every Force Sensitive child, they never take the children without the parents’ consent, and they allow parents that do consent an adjustment period.  It really isn’t like they take the kids away because they don’t believe in healthy family connections, more often than not it’s the parents themselves contacting the Jedi, because they believe the Jedi can give their child a better life.  Think of it more like real-world adoption of kids with special needs, the parents realize they are not equipped for the challenge of helping their child thrive so they make the decision to give them to someone who can help them.  It’s a selfless sacrifice on the parents’ part.

Those are the good scenarios, there were definitely situations where the parents didn’t make that choice out of altruism but a desire to be rid of their “weird” kid.  (Dooku’s dad literally left him outside the palace to get eaten by animals.)

We also have seen Jedi form close friendships outside the Order.  (Obi-Wan with Dexter, Yoda with the wookies, many many senators.)  The only danger with those is that, because of their position as representatives of the Republic, they do have to be careful to avoid the appearance of bias.  Jedi are supposed to be a neutral, mediating party fair to everyone, so being friends with one senator and not another could be nghl... politically hairy, let’s say.  Other than that there’s really nothing standing against Jedi having close friendships outside the Order.

This got a bit long, I apologize, and I don’t expect to change your mind or anything, but I do think that looking at Lucas’ words in their context make it clearer how he intended the undergirding philosophy of the Force to work, and what he actually means by attachment.  It’s very very easy to confuse “attachment” for “all close relationships” I know, trust me, but that isn’t what he meant, he’s not the best at explaining it but when you read or listen to his actual commentary I don’t think it can be argued that he means “love” when he says “attachment”.

#askbox #star wars #meta rambling #no beef or anything this is just how i've come to see it #jedi order

[ramblesanddragons]

Under The Moonlight

(For @lemonfodrizzleart based on her wonderful Mystery Farm AU mixed with Monster Falls. I really like Jackie as an OC and I hope I did her justice. A little treat for the spooky season. Normally I believe Gargrunk Stan can’t fly but maybe in this dimension he can!) 

Words: 1967

Warnings: None! Just some fluff with a little bit of feels.

As the sun set low in the October sky Stan was trying his best to put on something nice. The wings were making it a little difficult. Maybe it would be easier to go shirtless than mess up a good flannel, but he wanted to look nice. Jackie was looking forward to this, he wasn’t going to let her down.  

With a little fashion help from Kelvin, Stan was able to get his wings through some neatly cut holes. His tail wiggled into the hole in his jeans after a few tries. Shoes were a no go but at least his hat could rest in-between the horns on his head.  

Getting ready for a date had never been so frustrating.  

It was worth it though when he saw the smile on Jackie’s face. She was floating down the stairs, well more like fluttering. Even with all the draw backs of being a monster Jackie was enjoying being able to fly. The past few days she’d practically flown all over the farm.

Her dress was an off the shoulder affair in a deep black. A bit too fancy for a moonrise picnic but it was probably easier to deal with than anything else because of her own wings. He thin tail poked out of the bottom of the dress. Stan didn’t really care if it was too fancy. She looked incredible.  

“Ready?” She asked.  

Stan motioned to the blanket and basket in his hands and Jackie looped her arm around his stony one. Ford looked up from his notes. He was currently measuring the size of Kevin’s ears. It was only due to the golden fur covering his face that his twin wasn’t blushing up a storm being that close to his crush.  

“You two be careful. I’m not sure how well any of the town folk would react to seeing you.”  

“Look I’ve been planning this date for a week, Ford. No little monster curse is going ta stop us. You shouldn’t let it stop you either.”  

Ford gave Stan a look that said, “Shut the hell up!” while Kelvin was distracted with the bone left over from his steak. Out of all of them he was rolling with this monster thing the best and seemed to embrace his wolfish side. Ford was indulging in riddles more but most of his focus was trying to find a cure. His twin needed to take a break before he burnt himself out. The occasional accidentally catnap wasn’t enough.  

Stan could bother Ford to relax later. For now, he’d let him study Kelvin in peace. Maybe it would get him to finally ask him out. The official couple squeezed out the door with a wave and began to walk out into the orchard.  

If this curse wasn’t lifted by next week, the fall apple festival they held each year would be turning into a costume festival as well. Sure, folks around town were used to the weird but even they had their limits. That was something for next week Stan to worry about. Right now Stan wanted to put all his attention on Jackie.  

Jackie, who was also barefoot, would hop every few feet trying to catch a breeze. When she did, she’d flutter around the tops of the trees for a bit and return with a handful of apples.  

“Honey, tonight’s ‘posed to be about relaxing.”  

“Oh, I know. It’s just annoying to do it in the daytime. Sun hurts my eyes,” she explained. The picked apples were placed in bags and left by the trees. They could pick them up on the walk back.  

“At least you can go out in the sun,” Stan grumbled.  

Jackie gave him a sympathetic peck on the cheek and his grumbling morphed into a happy purring noise.  

“It’s so cute when you do that.”

“Yeah, yeah just don’t tell Ford.”  

She laughed and fluttered around the trees some more before they reached their picnic spot. The hill at the end of the orchard was silhouetted by the harvest moon. Maybe he needed to take Jackie on night dates more often. It was beautiful.  

The two of them settled their blanket down and began to eat. Stan wasn’t as good of a cook as Jackie, but he had made the fanciest sandwiches he could with homemade sides. Every item had a somewhat ridiculous amount of meat in it to satisfy his new carnivore diet, but Jackie didn’t mind.  

The two of them ate and talked and laughed. Stan offered her a blanket when the wind blew but Jackie declined.  

“Apparently demons don’t get cold. It’s nice.”  

“You know you might look like a demon, but I think of you as an angel baby.” Stan said with a smile. The smile faltered as Jackie laughed.

“How long have you been wanting to use that one? Very smooth lover boy,” she teased.  

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I love you no matter what you look like! Yeesh. I try to be sweet.” He rolled his eyes playfully before remembering that no one could tell when he was rolling his eyes anymore. His eyes were currently glowing orange orbs.  

Jackie’s eyes had a reddish cat in the dark like gleam to them. They were staring deeply at him. “I appreciate. At first, I was a bit weirded out by being turned into a succubus of all things, but you haven’t made me feel weird or different. I appreciate it.”  

“Of course. You’re amazing no matter what you look like.” Stan wrapped a stony arm around Jackie, and they sat and watched the stars for a few minutes.  

“Hey. I just got a great idea. We should take advantage of this who demon and gargoyle thing while we can,” Jackie said playfully.  

Stan gulped. “Well, I haven’t really pushed any ideas since I didn’t want you thinking that you being a succubus would effect anything. I love you for more than that and-”

“Let’s go flying!”  

“That...that is not what I thought you meant.”

“Oh, that can happen later. I know you’ve had a hard time keeping your hands off me.” Jackie winked and hopped-up leaving Stan slack jawed in the dirt. She laughed and stretched her wings wide.  

“I think we could get some good air from here but maybe we should head up on the cliffs.”

“I don’t think I can fly. Too heavy,” Stan said.  

“I bet you can. If your furball and feathers of a twin can, so can you. Although just in case we probably shouldn’t start with the cliffs. Let's try from here.  

The hill wasn’t high enough to set off Stan’s heights fear, but it was one of the best places to sled on the farm. With the right wind it could be enough for a decent take off as Jackie was proving. She ran a few feet and stretched her wings, diving down to catch speed then turning up. She whooped happily as she climbed higher and higher. It almost looked like she could touch the large moon.

“Come on baby you can do it!” She shouted from the sky.  

Stan gulped. He took a deep breath and went down the hill at a run. He jumped like he saw Jackie do but then tumbled head over tail down the rest of the hill. As he finally rolled to a stop Jackie landed beside him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Hard head remember.” For emphasis Stan tapped his head and it made stony thumping noise.  

“How about I do it with you? That might help.”  

“Jackie I... there’s something I haven’t told you.” Stan frowned, he hated admitting it. “I’m afraid of heights.”

Jackie tilted her head in confusion and then something clicked. “That’s why you get Ford to do anything that involves a ladder! That’s why you like to use the apple picking tool instead of climbing!”  

“Yeah. Pretty pathetic huh.”

“Of course not! Being afraid of heights makes sense! It’s not like humans can fly...normally that is. I just can’t believe we’ve been together this whole time and I didn’t realize it.”

“I did my best to try and hide it.”  

Jackie petted his head causing him to purr again. Her claw like nails made a scratching noise against his stone skin. “Don’t be afraid to tell me you’re afraid Stan. I know you got it in your head you’re supposed to be this tough, sturdy guy-”

“What gave you that idea?” Stan asked in faux offense. Jackie shot him a look and gestured to his gargoyle body. He chuckled and let Jackie finish her thought.

“What I was trying to say is that it’s okay to be afraid and all those other human things. You don’t have to put on an act for me.”  

Stan’s smile faltered and he took Jackie’s hand in his. “...I know.” Logically he knew that but there were times he could still hear his pa’s voice in his head telling him to be a man. Men weren’t afraid of things. Men didn’t have feelings. Men were tough as stone. That wasn’t the kind of man he was though, deep down, despite his current appearance. Sure, he was tough, but he felt all these other feelings too and he didn’t want to deny them. It was just hard sometimes. He was thankful to whatever above that Jackie was patient with him about it.  

They sat at the bottom of the hill until Stan’s head finished spinning. Then he hauled himself up.

“Let’s try again.”

“Stan, you got nothing to prove.”

“I know that but when am I ever going to have a chance like this again. With luck these wings are gone within the week.”

He trudged back up the hill and watched how Jackie took off running and caught the fall breeze in her wings. She swooped up and flapped her wings hard to get higher and higher. Waiting until the wind picked up again Stan charged down the hill on all fours. As dumb as he felt it worked and he was able to feel a lift on his body. He beat his wings as hard as he could and the ground under him disappeared. The sudden disappearance of the ground spooked him, and he stopped flapping. His stone body went tumbling again.

“Stan!”

“I’m okay. I almost got this. Stay there!”

Determined he tried one more time. This time the wind was with him as a strong gust rolled across the orchard sending leaves and some apples flying. He flapped with all his might and didn’t panic this time when he took flight. His body was heavy. He could feel the strain in his back from the effort, but it was worth it to see Jackie’s delighted face.  

“How are you doing?” She lowered herself down a few feet to meet him where he was steady.  

“Alright if I don’t look down or think about being 20 feet in the air.”  

“Come on! Just keep your eyes on me.” She took Stan’s hand and together they started to soar through the starlit sky around the farm. As terrifying as it was it was also beautiful. The two of them danced in the sky for as long as Stan’s wings could hold him.  

Landing was tricky but when they made it back to their picnic spot Stan managed to stay on both feet despite tripping. He was even able to catch Jackie in his hands as she landed.  

“That was amazing,” she said breathlessly.

“You’re amazing,” Stan responded.  

“You might not agree with that after this. Tag you’re it!” She yelled pushing him slightly. She took off into the air again.  

“Hey now hold on!” Stan laughed and shouted after her, taking off into the sky again.  

#Gravity Falls #My writing #Monster Falls AU #Mystery Farm AU #Stan Pines X OC

[amusedyan]

Monthly Meetings

A Peaky Blinders commission!

Words: 2k

Once a month there was a meeting. It was something dreaded by both parties, but one that was necessary- it was neutral territory, where mutual suggestions were discussed, grievances were gone over and business settled. No one officially came armed- but that was never written into the deal. Just like it wasn’t discussed that both parties came with a small coterie of their most trusted, each eyeing the other and waiting for a twitchy trigger finger.

Tommy Shelby was never on time to any meeting.

He came early when he was the one to suggest it- to get the drop on the other person, to make an impression. You waste my time, and you have no right to ask anything of me, was the goal there. When told to meet someone, he always made it a point to arrive 5 minutes late, because you aren’t worth my time.

This meant that meeting Alfie Solomons put him in an uncomfortable position- he had to come on time. And sometimes Alfie was there already, smug, or sometimes Alfie was late and dismissive about it, but with a stack of papers and grievances to make up the difference.

Tommy was continually unimpressed with the Jewish mobster, though you could color him surprised when word got out through the grapevine that Alfie Solomon had started going steady with some bird from the local flower shop.

He’d never figure him to be one to settle down, but those same rumors claimed that he ws continually trailing after her. Considering how…temperamental his associate could be, Tommy could believe it.

When Alfie actually entered the restaurant, Tommy reflected that the rumors must be true because the man was practically glowing. More importantly though, his usual stack of gripes was noticeably absent.

“Tommy-boy!” The man grunted, taking his seat at the table. There was already whiskey poured- courtesy of Tommy, of course.

“Alfie,” Tommy greeted, watching the man settle.

It was such a waste of his time to come here, and it took active work not to lose his temper about it. He could be home now

“So, to business. Would you like to begin?” Tommy offered magnanimously.

Alfie drank from his glass and winced at the taste. “Shit, that is,” he mused, shaking his head. “How’ve you been, Tommy? How’s life treated you?”

Suspicion colored Tommy’s thoughts. What was Solomons up to? Small talk wasn’t part of the meeting, ever. As if reading his thoughts, Alfie chuckled. “Don’t be like that, Shelby. I’ve been advised to try diplomacy.”

“By your new conquest?” Tommy countered. The expression on Alfie’s face closed off, and no longer was he looking at a man blatantly in love and feeling charitable to the whole world for it. It made things much easier to deal with. But a moment later, a sly smile crept across Alfie Solomon’s face, and Tommy wasn’t much fond of that expression.

“You’d know all about conquests, wouldn’t you, Tom?” Alfie folded his hands across his midsection and leaned back against his seat, leveling Tommy with a look just as cold.

Fury unfolded, and beside that, fear. What did that mean? Who had talked?

Chuckling, Alfie waved it off. “Now, there’s no need for that look, my good man. There’s been whispers, same as there have been for me. About a pretty girl. What’s her name?”

“We aren’t here to discuss women, Alfie.” Tommy said flatly, trying not to growl. From the corner of his eye, he could see Finn watching intently. He was waiting for a signal. No, he needed to reign it in.

Alfie was just intent on pushing his buttons though, grinning broadly, damn near leering at Tommy. “Well, her name’s Margaret.” His finger drummed against the glass, the ring he was wearing clinking methodically. “I doubt her name’s in your network, yeah? Every fucking thing else, but not that.” He shook his head. “Beautiful name.” And there was that lovesick look again.

“Is that all?” Tommy asked. What would it take to get the meeting back on track? Alfie eyed him, and reached into his coat-

Finn and Isaiah were drawing their guns, Alfie’s men were responding-

“SIT THE FUCK DOWN!” Alfie boomed, stilling the room. Tommy saw that what he’d withdrawn was his wallet.

“What are you planning, Solomons?” He asked, withdrawing a cigarette from his case.

The Camden bastard rolled his eyes and withdrew a photo. “Here,” he grunted, “have a look at this.” He handed it over to Tommy.

And honestly the last thing that Tommy expected to see was the image of a young woman posing for the camera. Rather lewdly, to put it mildly. Like a whore if you wanted to be blunt.

“My Margaret,” pride dripped from Solomons’ voice, like he hadn’t just shown off the parts of a woman that only her husband would see.

Tommy weighed his answers- would Solomons light up with fury if he complimented the woman? Or would he be offended if he didn’t? The trouble was that you never knew with him. He took a contemplative drag of his cigarette.

“Lovely,” he settled on.

Alfie scowled. “Oh like yours is any better,” he taunted. “C’mon, let’s see ‘er then.”

“I don’t have pictures of my woman on me, Alfie.” Tommy said, unable to stop the slight condescension from creeping into his tone, like he was talking to a child, or else someone very simpleminded.

“Well why the fuck not? How’m I s’posed to know if this woman exists, eh?” Alfie accused, smacking the table.

This was all very confusing honestly. What the hell was he playing at? “I didn’t claim she was real.”

“What man doesn’t have a picture of the woman he loves?”

“What man carries filthy pictures of his?”

“Oi mate, those are fuckin art!” Alfie argued with surprising vehemence. It was a strange hill to make a stand on, but hey, he could relate.

“Whatever you say, Alfie,” Tommy sighed and blew out another cloud of smoke.

It was raining now. Storm clouds had been gathering all of yesterday, and he’d been able to taste the moisture, along with the filth in the city air. Rain was ugly here, didn’t clean a fuckin’ thing. He found himself thinking, longingly of the estate. The Shelby Estate, a grander name than something like Arrow House. But little things like a name change kept your feet on the ground. Sylvia would be there, reading. It was raining, so she couldn’t ride today.

At first she’d hated being in the house. She’d wanted to be back in Birmingham. Always liked the action, wanted to support him. It had been charming before, but now that they were together, it couldn’t be tolerated. Too many risks.

“Are you fucking ignoring me, Tommy-boy?” Alfie’s voice was dangerous now, angry and short. Shit. He stubbed out the remains of his smoke in the ashtray.

“No, Alfie, I’m not ignoring you,” he said on the exhale. Clearly, he reflected, nothing was going to get done with this meeting. It was a shame, but at least that meant things were secure where they stood.

Either Solomons was happy or about to betray him again.

“So, I’ve told you about my Margaret, tell me about your girl.” Alfie ordered, pouring another drink.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Tom said, but at the disbelieving look on Alfie’s face, he shrugged slightly.

“I just don’t understand how a man can have a woman and not want to talk about her. Obviously you’ve heard how proud I am, but you? Are you ashamed?” It sounded like it was amusing- the idea that Tommy Shelby would be ashamed of anything in his life.

But the idea of being ashamed of Sylvia? That struck a nerve and that pissed him off properly.

“I’m not ashamed of her.” He snapped.

Alfie’s grin was positively disgusting. “So she does exist? Well, come now, what’s her name?”

For a moment he didn’t answer. Then he spoke begrudgingly, “Sylvia.”

“Sylvia, aye.” He nodded, turning it over. “She a gypsy like you?”

“No. She is not a gypsy.” Eye contact was key. “It wouldn’t matter either way.”

“So why don’t you talk about her? I could talk all day about mine, as I’m sure that you’ve noticed,” of course he had. “You move her in yet?”

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” Tommy mocked, making Alfie roll his eyes.

“Neither of us are gentlemen, Tom, no matter how you fuckin’ pretend. I moved Margaret in almost right away, you know? We just, we just had this connection- I saw her and I wanted her. Sent her gifts every day, came into the store when I could- her smiles, they lit up my fuckin’ life.”

“I’ve never known you to be so open about your business, Alfie. Aren’t you worried that someone might overhear?” It wasn’t a threat, not at all, not for once. This hit a little too close to home for it to be anything more than idle curiosity, and luckily Solomons knew it.

“No, mate. I need her to know how much I love her. And I need other people to know. Because if someone thinks that they can hurt her? I will…” he laughed, and it didn’t sound sane at all, but it didn’t bother Tommy, “well fuck, I think I’d burn the fuckin’ city down. But,” and he looked at Tommy, and that affable, unstable mask came off for a moment, and Tommy was looking at the emptiness that came from the war, the same emptiness in every soldier who’d been in the field, “but I think you know that, don’t you Tom?” He sighed and shook his head. “I figured, hell, if anyone on this Earth knew what I felt- how far I’d go- it’d be you.. And you do, don’t you?”

Tommy thought about Sylvia. He always thought about Sylvia.

He did horrible things on a daily basis. What would he do if something happened to her?

And the thing was, Tommy didn’t even need to ask himself that question. He’d known the moment that he’d seen her what he’d do for her, what he’d already done. She was safe, that was what he told himself, she was under constant watch, by men he trusted, where he didn’t need to worry about someone running off with her, or an accident, or any of the things that could take her away.

“And you just keep her in an apartment?” He muttered.

“How else would I see her?” Alfie countered evenly. “I take it you don’t?”

Tommy didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to, not in the context of the question.

“No, no, the way I see it, it’s better that I can keep an eye on ‘er. I get to come home to a nice meal, lovely company, and everyone knows what’ll happen if they fuck with her. You keep yours,” and he pointed at his business associate, “in some isolated fuckin’ kingdom and what happens? People get curious. You can’t see her as often. She goes missing. There’s no fuckin’ neighbors to pay to keep watch.” And hell, that was actually a very good point, but he didn’t want to hear that from Solomons.

“Let’s just agree to disagree.”

“Oh I fuckin’ disagree, mate. You don’t get that shit in hand-“

“And what might happen, Solomons?” Tommy asked calmly. He knew what this was- this was Solomons trying to knock him off his game, disturb him. And why? What the hell did Solomons have up his sleeve? “What are you planning?”

“Well I dunno mate.” The glass in Solomons’ hand was empty now, “what do you think I’m planning?”

“I think you’re just being a prick.” The other man barked out a laugh.

“Fair enough, so- grievances.”

And there it was.

When it was over, Tommy went over the meeting- all of it, bullshit included- in his head, thinking it over.

Alfie Solomons was a two faced bastard.

But Tommy found himself making plans to go visit Sylvia as a surprise, nonetheless.

#yandere peaky blinders #yandere alfie solomons #yandere tommy shelby

[forever-rogue]

since you're open to write for Max Phillips now, how about 21 with him? 🥺💖

Hi, my love, anything for you! I hope my first time with Max isn’t too horrible! 🥺

21. Birthday

»»————-　♡　————-««

Max was...a lot of things. Arrogant, loud, demanding - all consuming really. When he entered a room it was like he was suddenly taking up all the space and you could focus on nothing but him. And it wasn't just the hypnotic gaze that reserved for others either. He was just...everything.

And it was his birthday. You doubted that he even remembered telling you the date, something only mentioned in passing, and even more so, you doubted be cared. He'd even made it a point to dismiss the importance of any sort of dates. After all he would remind you, what was so important about a little thing like a birthday to a man that was immortal?

But unlike your boyfriend, you were a mere mortal, a little fact he often reminded you of. You continued to mark birthdays with each passing year because you would continue to age and eventually you would be old and fragile as he remained evergreen. It was a harsh reality that you had chosen to ignore until now, a simple fact of consequence that would need to be addressed eventually.

At least that's what Max insisted upon because whenever you'd bring it up lately he would immediately push it the side and bring up another topic. But it had been on your mind nonstop, almost as loud as the tick-tock of the clock in your silent office.

But you had a plan, you always did. If Max Phillips was prepared and had a plan for everything, then you were him tenfold. Polar opposites in many ways, but well working counterparts more often than note.

Sighing lightly, you picked up your phone and dialed Max, deciding to put your plan into motion before it got too late.

"Well, well, well honey," he drew out his petname as you heard the creak of his chair as he sat back and put his feet on his desk, "to what so I owe the pleasure?"

"Happy birthday, Max," you told him softly as you nervously twirled your pen in your fingers. You heard him sigh heavily, a steadfast habit from his human days, "before you say anything else, I love you."

"Its not..." he trailed off and you heard him shuffle something before coming back to you, "oh."

"What are you doing this evening?” you tried to change the subject, although not entirely, which was of course, unbeknownst to him. Your simple question seemed to shift his mood immediately and you could practically hear his spirits lift.

“Well, I was hoping it would be you,” you could just tell there was a smug little grin on his face as you jokingly scoffed at him, “I’m just joking, sweetheart, more or less. What did you have in mind?”

“Come over to mine?” you asked softly, trying to keep your tone even and balance in order to avoid rousing his suspicions, “I was thinking dinner, a movie, you. Have you fed lately?”

“It’s been a minute,” he admitted quietly, as you realized your plan was going to fall into place much easier than you had originally anticipated. But you knew he wouldn’t ask; for as much of an arrogant ass as he could be, he rarely, if ever, asked to feed off of you. It was often times you that had to persuade him that it was okay and you really didn’t mind, “but-”

“Perfect, come over tonight. Does six work?” you interrupted him, deciding it was best to stop a Max train of thought before it could get too derailed.

“I’ll see you then,” he agreed softly, “is everything alright?”

“Of course, Max,” you lied insisted, “see you this evening.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

As you studied your outfit in the mirror you wondered if it was a little too on the nose; red lace lingerie covered by the little black dress that you knew Max adored on you. Whatever, you quickly concluded, it was his birthday and you wanted to do this for him as much as you.

“Honey?” you gave yourself a quick nod of approval when you heard him walk up the stairs, quickly dashing to meet him in the doorway and pose as seductively as you could. He was softly singing under his breath to himself but as soon as he spotted you he stopped dead in his tracks, “hello there.”

“Hi Max,” you wasted no time in reached for his face and pressing your lips to his, kissing him gently but with a sense of purpose, “happy birthday, handsome.”

“Hello to you,” his dark eyes raked over your form and you could practically hear the gears turned in his mind  as he realized something was up, “I told you it doesn’t matter. Today is just like any other day.”

“Shut up, Max,” you tugged on his tie and pulled him into your bedroom, making quick of pushing him onto your bed. He could have easily stopped you or fought you, but he acquiesced to your touches and desires, “if I say it’s important, it’s important.”

“Fine,” he held up his hands in mock defeat before reaching for your hands and pulling you into his lap. You sat on his thick thighs as you faced him, wrapping your arms around his neck before carding a hand through his dark locks. His large hands found purchase on your waist as he tried to figure out what on earth was possibly going on, “honey.”

“Max,” you kissed him quickly, just a peck, nothing more but to quickly punctuate your point, “you know I love you, right? More than anything?”

“Of course,” his brow furrowed slightly as he watched a small smile cross your features, “okay, out with it, what’s going on?”

“I want you-”

“I want you too,” his grin was nothing short of cheeky as he reached up and put his hand under your chin, tilting your head as his nuzzled his nose against your pulse. A small content sigh escaped your lips as you tried to keep him from derailing your plans completely, “especially looking like that. Wearing my favorite dress...and the little red lace set?”

“Max, listen for once,” you reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look into your eyes, “I’m trying to be serious and for once, I want you to listen and not talk.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed in content, “serious business, huh pretty girl?”

“Max,” your voice was laced with venom as you tried to get him to look into your eyes, “can I have one serious moment?”

“I’m sorry,” he gave in when you noticed that you were indeed not messing around and clearly something heavy was on your mind. He took his hands off of your hips and set them at his side, as if to prove his point that he wouldn’t interrupt anymore, “go on.”

“I’ve been thinking...a lot actually,” your eyes raked over his as you felt your heart pound in your chest, sure he was able to hear it easily,”especially since it’s your birthday. And I know we haven’t really talked about it much because a certain vampire keeps changing the subject, but its something we have to address.”

“We don’t have to right now-” you cute him quickly by clamping your hand over his mouth. You should have know better than to expect Max Phillips to try and keep quiet.

“Yes, we do,” you insisted, “we can’t skirt around the issue forever. You have forever and I have...limited time. Limited time until I am older than you and until I die. And I...I want you to turn me.”

“I don’t think you know what you’re saying,” he gently reached for your hand and pulled it away from his mouth, but not before pressing a kissing to your knuckles, “I would not turn you into...this until you know what you’re saying. Forever sounds good in theory, but forever is a long time. Do you really want to do this forever?”

“Well I wasn’t thinking this would be some sort of temporary relationship,” you joked, “I was always all in from the smart, before I knew what you were and even after. Besides, Max, who else is going to is going to put up with you for the rest of eternity?”

“Honey,” his eyes softened as he watched to look for any sign of remorse or reluctant. But when he discovered nothing but honestly and truth in your eyes, his gently cradled your face before placing a kiss on your forehead, “are you sure about this? It’s not like picking what’s for dinner...”

“I know, Max, and yes,” you promised, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now. I know what’s it like for you, and I don’t want a life if you’re not going to be in it. Even if we get another thirty years or whatever, I want you, forever.”

“It’s going to be a big change,” he stated the obvious as you laughed lightly, wiping away from of the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, “you’re positive?”

“Yes,” you promised, “as long as you’re okay with it. You’re going to have this warm body to keep you company at night or a fresh meal on demand. Are you okay with that?”

“If you’ll be with me always,” he whispered as he pressed his forehead against yours, “of course. There’s no one else for me.”

“I love you Max, you’re an insufferable asshole of a bastard sometimes, but you’re the only for me,” you laughed before kissing him, “make me yours. Feed off of me one last time and then turn me.”

“Is that what the whole dress and lingerie thing is about?” his hands skimmed the tops of your thighs as started to push your dress higher and higher, almost as if to see if you were doing to stop him. Naturally, you didn’t.

“I mean it is your birthday Max,” you whispered in his ear, “I wanted to give you a little something. One last night with a warm body, and then you’re stuck with me for eternity.”

“Eternity sounds perfect,” he agreed as he kisses along your jaw before working his way down your neck and grazing his teeth over your pulse, “but first I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.”

#max phillips #max phillips x reader #bloodsucking bastards #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #one word prompts

[neversatisfiedwithlife]

for the mostly likely to thing, i saw these questions on a glee page awhile ago, but if you want to answer them for cazzie that’d be great :p

1. Who spends almost all their money on the other?

2. Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions?

3. Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired?

4. Who is the most affectionate?

5. Who falls asleep in the others lap and who carries them to bed?

6. Who wakes up first?

7. Who apologizes first after an argument?

8. Who is the nerd?

9. Who makes the other one laugh the most?

10. Who sleep talks?

11. Who hogs the blankets at night?

12. Who is the neat freak?

13. Who likes to surprise the other with random gifts?

14. Who buys the healthy food in the house?

15. Who has better music taste?

16. Who takes care of the spiders?

17. Who uses more nicknames

18. Who’s the little spoon?

19. Who suggests scary movies for film night?

20. Who gets jealous more often?

21. Who brings up kids first?

22. Who borrows who’s clothes more?

23. Who cries more during sad movies?

24. Who falls asleep on the other more?

25. Who says I love you more?

26. Who initiates kisses more?

27. Who initiates hugs more?

28. Who takes more pictures of the other?

29. Who leaves notes for the other one around the house?

30. Who gets drunk faster?

31. Who gets hit on more by strangers?

32. Who makes food for the house more often?

Most likely to:

(I love that you found it on a glee page! Anyways of course I want to do them!!!)

This is long so get comfortable besties😌 I didn't proof read so all mistakes are on purpose.

Spend their money on the other: Casey would spend a larger portion of her money on Izzie or just like on things they can do together. (I think Izzie would just be engrain to make her money go as fat as it can so she's more restrained or critiac about how/where she spends her money)

Which one drives the car: this one is simple, its Casey. Do we even know if Izzie drives? (Like ideally being the one who takes care of her siblings it'd help, but anyways. Yes Casey is the driver, I can see Casey love being the one behind the wheel. Also how she was with Sam I could see her as a back seat driver or like "why didn't you take this route" just asking stuff even if she tries not to. So in the end it's just easier to have her drive lol)

Which one gives the other a piggy back ride: we saw Casey lift Izzie up so I'm obligated to say Casey! (Okay so picture after a track practice Izzie is really exhausted; the work load of school and babysitting her siblings really hitting her that week. Casey offers her a piggy back ride, Izzie is skeptical at first, but Casey is so reassuring about it)

Who is the most affectionate: ooh this one is hard overall I think I'd say Izzie, Casey more initiates kissing, but Izzie just likes to be touching Casey. (While watching tv Izzie will have her hand resting on Casey's leg, or like sit close enough to where their shoulders touch, the way Izzie stretches out herself on top of Casey when they're in her bed. Izzie initiates hand holding)

Who falls asleep in the others lap: Izzie established cannot stay up for the life of her plus again we got the cazzie bridal style carrying scene!! (I think even more cuddled up to Casey she definitely can't stay awake, she'd just feel so safe and at ease. Lights out comes quickly lol)

Who wakes up first: Izzie is up first, again this is me seeing her as the caretaker of her siblings and not going on Casey's painful track running schedule. (Ik in that one episode Casey is up first, but casey was trying to avoid Izzie, anyways Izzie probably has to get her siblings up for school or just make sure they're fed and what not so I can see her generally being conditioned to wake up first.)

Who apologize first after an argument: I feel like this totally depends on the argument; who/what started it and what it's about. Generally both are good at apologizing and don't stretch out the argument (sorry if that's like a cop out and not a definitive answer)

Who is the nerd: Izzie without a doubt (i feel like she enjoys learning new things. Maybe she doesn't necessarily love studying school material all the time, but also I feel like maybe studying started as an escape or distraction from always being her siblings care taker and soon she just learned to love it. Or just loved knowledge)

Who makes the other one laugh the most: I say Casey, they both definitely make each other laugh but Casey takes it to another level. (Like when paige is at the door and Casey is like "do you think that's them here to kick us out in person". Casey uses humor to help Izzie unwind when she's too in her head about stuff.)

Who sleep talks: Casey, why do I feel like one of them actually slept tall? Am I hallucinating...what is happening. (Anyways I feel like Casey like if she had a nightmare or something she'd mumble in her sleep and like startle awake. Or of she's really stressed and overwhelmed she's in a more restless type sleeping state)

Who hogs the blankets: (I did answer this) But Casey hogs the covers, I'll add that Izzie is fine just curling up in a ball above the blankets and fall asleep. (Why did I have the thought they're doing laundry the blankets aren't dried yet but when they finally dry Casey finds Izzie sound asleep on the blanket less bed)

Who is the neat freak: I wouldn't say either of them are nec a neat freak, but I feel Izzie would want things in particular locations and Casey can just roll with it.

Who likes to surprise the other with random gifts: Izzie, though she doesn't spend large portions of her money she likes finding small things,knickknacks or like stuffed animals or just like a sweet, that will make Casey happy. (Having younger siblings that she actively has to care for has taught her that it doesn't matter the size of the gift or if it's sparkly)

Who buys the healthy food: Casey clearly didn't approve of Elsa's green stuff sticking out of the back so definitely Izzie. (Izzie enjoys her fare share of snacks but she knows the day has to be balanced with more than "empty" calories. She is patient though in finding the healthy stuff that Casey actually likes.)

Who has better music taste: I'd say Casey in that she would have a more diverse music taste, she'd expose herself to more genres and like eras of music (Izzie feels like a whatever is on the radio or popular on the music charts-this is not slander just vibes I get lol)

Who takes care of the spider: definitely Izzie (I can see her being the person who catches and releases it while Casey is just telling her to "squish it, squish it!")

Who uses more nicknames: probably Izzie, I feel like she uses a more diverse collections of nicknames for Casey. Just like whatever fits the moment. (Casey would just use Izz, dude and a choice pet name)

Who's the little spoon: IZZIE!!! Miss curl up into a ball and fall asleep, she'd definitely pull Casey's arms to wrap around herself.

Who suggest scary movies for film night: I think Izzie is the one to coax them into actually watching a movie, but Casey is actually the one who enjoys them more or is just less put off by them? (Casey totally teases her, never goes too far, about it before the movie.)

Who gets jealous more often: I feel like this belongs to Izzie, like she has more self doubt and insecurities about how much she deserves Casey.

Who brings up kids first: Izzie does, maybe they're studying and making useless conversations, they're on the topic of her siblings. (Maybe you'd thing dealing with kids all her life and an unsupportive mom would put her off; but I think it doesn't. I feel like Casey just genuinely never stopped to really think about kids. Or maybe she thinks she wouldn't be good with kids. Like yes shes amazing with Sam, but to her that's not the same. Izzie reassures her she'd make a great parent, if she wanted to be.)

Who borrows who's clothes more: I could see Izzie borrowing a shirt or hoodie to lounge in, but I dont see it regularly. (Also Casey I noticed wears like oversized shirts often so I dont think the fit of Izzie's clothes would satisfy her.)

Who cries more during sad movies: Casey does. It is something she will deny with her entire being, but it's her.

Who falls asleep on the other more: I'll choose a specific situation for this, not a general thing: when they're talking on the phone late at night I actually think Casey would be the one who ends up falling asleep. (Ik this probably meant literally but this is where my brain went)

Who says I love you more: I feel like Casey. (I feel like for Casey the environment she was raised in it just is easier for her to say it, or it comes more naturally. Izzie uses actions to show her love because sometimes the words I love you coming from her own mouth feel foreign).

Who initiates kisses more: Casey, I think she both initiates kisses and "steals" kisses more.

Who initiates hugs more: if I say Casey with no explanation you have to accept it!

Who takes more pictures of the other: Izzie takes more pictures of Casey (I can see Casey as the person who just loves to pull stupid(affectionate) poses that make Izzie laugh. Also idk I feel like Izzie would be less inclined to have her picture taken and Casey would respect that. They would definitely take pictures together inspite of that though because Izzie wants to capture every moment with her girl.)

Who leaves notes for the other around the house: this plays into the nicknames thing, I think Izzie would leave the most cute/ridiculous notes with like the most cute/ridiculous nicknames for Casey. (Ik Casey made the tarot deck but I can just visualize Izzie doing this lol, sue me.)

Who gets drunk faster: Casey. I see Izzie as the one who has more parties in her past, and ofc she drank so she has more tolerance. Especially being at clayton longer with the track gang and Nate 🤢 (Izzie having to take a drunk Casey home early because she can barely stand on her feet securely, this is when Izzie gets to drive 😌)

Who gets hit on more by strangers: I think Izzie, she gets hit on more by disrespectful men and Casey shuts that down right quick.

Who makes food for the house more often: Izzie, I think she totally loves cooking. She loves trying out new recipes and has a bunch of cookbooks.

#omfg this was so fun!!! like seriously akskapal!!! #THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON!!🥰🥰🙌 #atypical #cazzie #atypical hc #atypical headcanon #casey gardner #izzie taylor #anon(affectionate) #long post

[kiiiiiim]

The Bus Scene

Being forced to take public transportation with your best friend, who you're currently fighting/angry/maybe a little in love with(?) is... awkward, to say the least.

AO3 link if you feel so inclined

Lena has never ridden on a bus before, that much is obvious.

A year ago Kara would have giggled at the sight of Lena death-gripping the chrome-colored pole in the center of the aisle, her fists clenched so tightly that her neatly manicured fingers have turned white. She would have teased her for the ridiculous pose she’s chosen to utilize for optimum stability: legs slightly bent at the knee, feet flat on the floor, every muscle stiffened as she fights to keep a semblance of balance while they hit pothole after jarring pothole. Kara would have made jokes about how the only thing capable of thwarting the brilliant mind of Lena Luthor was the mechanics of a National City bus route. She would have asked, all-too innocently as she smothered a laugh, if Lena would like to make this a recurring thing that they did instead of coffee and lunch dates, since she seemed to be enjoying herself so much.

A year ago, Lena might have narrowed her eyes and smirked. She might’ve gone along with the teasing and replied that no, the Luthors never rode in vehicles that didn’t already come with a personal driver, to which Kara might’ve said, “Well, buses do come with drivers and your tax dollars help pay for transportation in the city so you could technically call that "personal," so… I guess you don’t have a valid excuse, huh?” And maybe they would’ve stared each other down until they burst into a laughing fit that made half the bus roll their eyes and the other half smile in secret at the two women who were obviously close and dear to each other’s hearts.

A year ago, under better circumstances and in a world where they had made less mistakes, maybe these things would’ve happened - but it’s not a year ago. It’s now, and Leviathan is looking for her and Lex is involved and Kara can’t use her powers and she needs a Kryptonite suit, a suit that only Lena can build for her in the lab that’s oh so not conveniently located on the other side of the city - so they’re taking the bus, and Kara has never been more uncomfortable in her entire life.

The bus is packed with people of all sorts; businessmen and women who missed the easier, smoother ride of the subway but still have enough practiced balance not to need to clutch at the hand-holds above them, mothers and fathers placating their toddlers with varying degrees of success, a couple of twenty-somethings with backpacks and bleary-eyed expressions that can either be explained by late-night partying or last-minute studying as they head to class, several tourists, and even a few aliens towards the back of the bus who can only be identified as such by the six-foot tails that snake around an entire bench of seats. 

The vehicle had already been heavily occupied when Kara and Lena boarded, with no seats available and no one willing to give theirs up. Even the standing room was limited, but people shuffled around to allow the two women access to a single pole; Lena looked at it and then at Kara with a question in her eyes, asking permission to be allowed in her space. Kara responded with a tiny nod and loosely wrapped her right hand around the bottom of the pole while Lena took the top half with both hands, and the awkward thirty-minute ride began.

Kara tries not to think about how close they’re standing, how easy it would be to turn and say the three little words that would start them on the path to healing, I forgive you. But then she remembers the weeks of lies, the betrayal of stealing Myriad, the kryptonite coursing through her veins - and the hypocrisy of her own anger, which somehow makes Kara feel worse than anything Lena has done to her.

I’m angry at you, but I'm even more angry at me because I’m angry at you, and I don’t know what to do or what to say except that I miss you…

And I wish I could’ve flown us to your lab because I hate the stupid bus and more than anything, I wish we could laugh about that.

......................................................................

Lena has never ridden on a bus before, and now she knows why. It sucks.

She understands the purpose of the system - it’s inexpensive, convenient for those with no personal vehicles, and easy to understand. Lena knows it’s a perfectly acceptable way to travel no matter how high up the proverbial ladder you were born to, and she would never go so far as to say that she was above anyone who used it as their main source of transportation.

But, oh my God, she hates it.

For one thing, it’s a lot bumpier than she’d expected. It feels like they hit a pothole every twenty feet, and she has half a mind to make a sizable donation towards the city’s roadway construction budget because it is obviously sorely lacking in funds. For another, Lena is fairly certain that their driver is unaware that a speed bump’s primary function is to slow down the vehicle in question - not to transform the bus into a wannabe stunt car. Her hands are starting to cramp from clutching the security bar  and she knows she looks ridiculous squatting there like a football player bracing themselves for the hike. Thank God she wore pants today.

The sheer number of people a bus could hold had exceeded her expectations as well. It seemed like with every stop the bus made more people got on than got off, which didn’t add up to the calculations she made in her head concerning the volume of the space and the mass of those who occupied it - they had to have at least hit the weight limit by now. 

Lena wishes she could talk to Kara and ask questions: Were buses always this crowded? Surely all this fuel exhaust isn’t good for the quality of the air? Is it possible to file a complaint against Richard Petty up there? But she can’t - the tension between them is so thick, and Lena doesn’t know how to break it without potentially setting Kara off.

She'd told Lena this morning that she didn’t want to talk about the rift between them, that they needed to focus on Lex and Leviathan. Lena knows she should be thinking about the anti-kryptonite suit she has to build in record time, but all she wants to do is try to atone for her mistakes. She would go back in time and take them all back if she could - she would go back to the moment her brother lay bleeding on the floor, planting those seeds of doubt in her mind. She would take her own face in her hands, wipe away her tears, and tell her past self, “Do not listen to him. Hear her well when she tells you why, and believe with your whole heart that truer words have never been spoken.”

Lena tries not to think about how close they are, and yet so far away. There’s no calculation she can’t solve, no solution that eludes her except for this one: how to fix what’s been broken between them. Lena can pick up the pieces on her side, but they’re useless unless Kara meets her halfway - and from the way things are going, Lena wonders if she’ll ever be willing to do so.

You’re angry with me, and I’m angry at me, and I’m still a little angry at you too, but I understand now and I want to make things right. I don’t want to lose you… I don’t want to have already lost you…

And I would give anything to be able to laugh with you about how absurd I must look right now, clinging to this pole on this stupid bus.

......................................................................

Twenty minutes into the ride the bus makes a stop that takes longer than usual, and Lena thankfully takes the opportunity to rub some feeling back into her hands, which have adapted into a claw-like shape. She rises from her hunched position and sighs as the muscles of her legs stretch gloriously, glancing around to see if she can discover what the situation is. Still no empty seats available, but surely someone will vacate one soon? She hasn’t looked directly at Kara once the entire time, but can feel an almost palpable energy emanating from her body that radiates discomfort, and Lena knows Kara must hate standing so close to her like this, after everything she’s done. Maybe a little distance will help.

Lena hears a slight creak and sees Kara’s fingers gripping the bar below, bending the metal as easily as if it were an empty soda can. Lena tries her best to block the scene with her body from any wandering eyes behind them, and touches Kara with hesitant fingertips, barely making contact.

“Kara,” Lena mutters. “The bar…”

Kara seems to snap out of whatever trance she was in and quickly jerks her hand away; her breath is harsh but she seems to come back to herself fairly quickly and her eyes refocus. She clears her throat. “Sorry. Panic attack.”

Lena’s brow furrows in surprise at this new piece of information. It seems there are still some things she doesn’t know about her (hopefully still) best friend. She tries not to feel relieved that the negative energy she’d felt from Kara hadn’t been about her - tries, and fails.  

“I… I didn’t know.” Lena says quietly.

Kara leans a little closer, resting her forehead against the cool metal and closes her eyes. “I don’t like close spaces. Being crowded. Feeling...trapped.”

Lena has to bite her tongue to keep from pressing her, even though she desperately wants to know what caused this claustrophobia, when, and why. She pushes her questions down and nods towards the back of the bus, where a few people have finally let off. “I think I see an empty seat. I could go over there, if you want - give you some space-”

“No,” Kara replies quickly and opens her eyes, reaches for Lena and drops her hand a millisecond too late for the gesture to go unnoticed by the human eye. Lena’s heart thuds and hope wells up within her before she can reign it in and keep it from showing on her face. Then Kara glances away and pops the dent in the bar back into place with one quick squeeze of her fingers. She clears her throat again, a little more forcefully this time.

“I mean, no, it wouldn’t matter - someone else would just take your spot anyway. Besides, it looks like we’re gonna start moving now. I’m fine.” She says this curtly, and the tiny ember of warmth in Lena’s chest fades back into the blackness. She doesn’t see the grimace of regret in Kara’s turned face, nor the reflection of that guilt in the grimy plexiglass window.

The bus suddenly lurches forward with no warning and Lena’s fingers slip from the bar, grasping at nothing but empty space as she falls backwards. Kara reacts without thinking, reaches forward and gently wraps her hand around Lena’s left forearm with a practiced fluidity that goes beyond human reflexes. She pulls Lena back into an upright position, her free hand coming to rest behind Lena’s right shoulder blade in an effort to keep her steady as the bus turns a sharp corner. The whole scene has taken place in less than a second, and the bus’s occupants are focused on the good-natured alien couple in the back who are letting several small children climb on their tails like a jungle gym. No one is looking at Kara and Lena, who are standing much too close to each other and feeling very much like the Earth has stopped rotating in its orbit.

Lena can feel the heat of Kara’s fingers through her coat, keeping her firmly grounded on the turbulent surface without using a hint of the strength she knows those muscles are capable of. She can’t help but marvel at the gentle touch that feels almost intimate, even though her rational brain insists that this is how Kara has to handle a human in order not to break them. There’s nothing special about this moment - at least, not for Kara. She must perform these little saves dozens of times a day. Lena wonders if those people know how lucky they are.

“Thanks…” Lena says, her voice low and full of emotion. She doesn’t know how her hand ended up on Kara’s collarbone, but it’s there and she really doesn’t want to move it because this is the most contact they’ve had in months and she’s touch-starved from her own self-imposed isolation. God, she misses Kara’s hugs.

Kara is the first to break away, of course, but she hesitates before dropping her hands from their anchor points on Lena's body. She nods her head in acknowledgement, unable to dislodge the lump in her throat and thrown by the way her body is thrumming with electricity. Was that always there, or is she just tense from the aftereffects of her panic attack? Kara swallows heavily and shoves those thoughts away - no time for that. Besides, she’s still angry and not ready to talk about it - or that - not yet. 

Lena grabs the pole just in time before the bus comes to another lurching stop, and she recognizes the building in front of them. “We’re here.” It’s an unnecessary statement, but Lena doesn’t know what else to say. They start to edge their way to the bus’s double doors, squeezing past people with murmured apologies and side-steps.

Finally - sweet, sweet air. Lena exits the bus with Kara close behind, who sighs with relief. Lena gestures for her to follow, her hand just barely missing Kara's. Neither of them notice; they're all business now, with a mission that needs their undivided attention. Still, one thought lingers on both of their minds as they push through the doors of the building and head towards Lena's lab:

Maybe the bus isn't that bad...

......................................................................

Thanks to @sapphic-luthor and this post that served as inspiration, and to @captaincartervalues for helping me choose what to write when my brain couldn't make up its mind lol

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #my ficlets #sapphic-luthor