#also dunno if i like the green eyes more or if i like the brown ones more. i will just draw felicia until i die and figure that out ig <3

[uniquevoidflowers]

Y'all asked for it. Drawings and explanations under the cut of Legend, Wind, Warrior and Hyrule (just to be clear don't expect anything bc I dunno how to draw really):

Starting with Legend (top left): The prince ofc. He's 17 in this au, and it's ok to ship him with Marin and Fable. The getup he has on in this drawing, he never wears when he sneaks out but when mostly when he's in the castle. He dyed half his hair. It was supposed to be red but it came out pink instead. He ended up secretly liking the pink though. Although not coloured atm, his outfit is red with the exception of his pants and belt. The little details on the sleeve are gold, his belt is brown. His pants are a creamy brown.

Little facts about him ig:

-Hates feeling vulnerable

-Fears being trapped or losing reality

-was very sickly as a child

-very good at many instruments; he enjoys learning them

-refuses to sing though

-wants to learn how to swordfight

-collector (he also enjoys collecting things)

-born in Castletown, Hyrule

_____________________________________________________________

Wind (top right): He's 14 and has a dark brown eye colour. Lots of freckles. His shirt is a bright green. He likes blue more but his Grandma liked him to wear green, so he wears it to honour her. His pants are a simple brown. His Grandma, passed when he was 12, and his parents had been missing even before that. He now lives with Green, Red, Blue and Vio. Aryll, his sister, lives there as well.

More little facts:

-loves seafood

-picky about other foods

-protective of his younger sister

-Aryll WAS kidnapped before :)

-used to pretend to be a pirate as a kid, still loves reading about them

-loves acting

-optomistic

-chaotic

-hates cold tempatures

-fears the dark, and losing his sister again

-loves bugs

-loves thunder and rain

-born in Outset, Hyrule

_____________________________________________________________

Warrior (bottom left): He's 22. His armour is a uniform, but the scarf was made by his mother before she passed away. The back of his scarf has a signature by her. He rarely parts with it. The uniform was inspired by botw's Hylian knight armour. He's Legend's personal knight, promoted after helping greatly in the war. Armed most of the time.

Little facts:

-Has 5 other sisters

-good with kids

-twins with one of his siblings, Linkle

-was popular among many ladies when he first joined knighthood

-also hates cold enviroments

-fears being hated, or failing

-has a 'soldier' mode where he doesn't show his emotions and is very calculative and serious

-born in Castletown, Hyrule

___________________________________________________________

Hyrule: He's 16. It's ok to ship him with Dawn. His clothes were made by Blue, they're a darker green. Messy hair, never takes care of it. (even if he needs to) and gold outlines on his clothes. He's a great friend of Legend's, meeting him a year ago.

Little facts:

-timid around strangers

-had an older brother but he ran away awhile ago

-very good at survival

-has magic abilities that he discovers later in the story

-looks up to Legend

-kinda skittish and jumpy

-bashful

-self-worth issues

-born in Selina of Calatia

#unique talks #royal link au #if y'all have any questions just ask

[pbnmj]

i am only half joking about this version of peterfel. it was just supposed to be the joke on the bottom left but i spiralled (ft. the miles + felicia being the sibling duo that i deserve)

#the first thing u should know about me is that to me spiderman characters are just barbie dolls #and i will absolutely assassinate characters for the sake of the bit #this time around the bit is a crackship :) #tho crack in just the way that i made these two up in my mf mind. my spiderverse noir and the felicia from my brain is so real TO ME!!!!! #peterfel #peter parker #felicia hardy #spiderman #spider man #miles morales #*miles and felicia r not actually siblings in this btw. theyre just running around like batsy and robin..... #my art #also dunno if i like the green eyes more or if i like the brown ones more. i will just draw felicia until i die and figure that out ig <3 #ok enough seriously. disseration time. i swear.

[leclsrc]

hi auds bear!! dunno if you saw charles' insta story of his new sky ad but now begging for a 2k celebration blurb of dad!charles <3

misspelled – cl16

genre: fluff, 2k celebration, girldad!charles

“It’s L-E-S, love.” He points to the piece of paper peppered with doodles. “Go ahead for me.”

The sun is high and sweltering, with noontime March heat, but still Charles is undeterred in his quest to get your daughter to spell his name properly. The evening prior, you’d presented him with a welcome home card signed by her, and addressed to Daddy Charlse—cue the Leclerc dramatics.

He’d pressed about a thousand kisses to her tiny face, thanking her over and over and keeping the card in his bag so they could cook dinner together. But once the pasta was finished and the toothbrush jingle was sang (twice) and he’d stowed her off to bed (three storybooks later), he padded over to your bed and sighed lowly, stopping just shy of the foot of it. Already you’d sensed his incoming anxious complaint.

It comes. “So. Charl-s-e.” 

“She’s four, honey.” You’d shut your book softly, smiling. “She spells her grandmum’s name as Packal.”

“It’s because I’m always out for work, isn’t it?” He climbed into bed beside you, perching his chin on your stomach. “And this is also because Max keeps insisting he babysit, sweetie. I swear, he’s brainwashing my baby girl.”

You laughed; the vibration extended into him and he smiled fondly at your reaction. “Charles, it’s nothing. They’re working on spelling at school, you know—she’s got a few words she gets wrong sometimes, the same ones. But she’s learning.”

“Charl-s-e,” he’d repeated sullenly. “Charl-seh.”

“If it matters that much, why don’t you try teaching her tomorrow?” You swept your hand through his hair, mouth in a half-smile. “Make an afternoon of it.”

He’d taken your advice very seriously—woken up a bit earlier, cooked them both pancakes (and you French toast, as always) and led her into the yard for some daddy-daughter time. “If you’re thirsty, I made lemonade,” you sing-song from the patio door. “You two’ve been at it for a bit.”

There are scrapped pieces of paper with his name misspelled on most of them—there is the occasional success, though you’re guessing Charles wants just one more—and drawings of your family all over them. You already sense the influx of pictures Charles has on his phone, of these drawings and cards he always posts on his Instagram or sends to you.

At your announcement, Julia looks up, green eyes piqued with interest, grip on the red crayon loosening. But her father’s faster, gently coaxing her back into the mini lawn chair that sits on the yard. She nods along his careful instructions, writing slowly, sun filtering through her light brown hair.

You get short moments of reprieve like this during the season. It’s rare for Charles to visit if he’s in the thick of it—most of the time you travel to a different city to see him, Julia going from your hip to his arms in seconds once he spots the two of you. But this moment is irreplaceable: the sunrays on the grass, the lemonade waiting to be drank, the pieces of paper with Mommy and Papa, bunchfuls of grapes on the patio table. 

He tries again. “Come on, love. C-H-A…” 

She bounds into the kitchen five minutes clutching a final paper, which she shows you with a sun-tinged face of pride. CHARLSE, it reads still. You pour her a glass, wait for Charles to finish packing up the rest of the art materials Julia was too excited to do herself; he comes in a bit sweaty from the sun asking to see the card.

You hand him a glass and press a kiss to his cheek. “Still S-E,” you say, both of you reading over the various scribbles.

“I don’t care.” He pauses. “You see this?” He points to the lower part of the page. 

Best Daddy Ever is written on it in wild vivid colors. You beam, love bubbling up in your chest overwhelmingly. He takes it from you and tacks it onto on the fridge, smiling. “She wrote that. I couldn’t have asked for a better card.” 

#f1 #charles leclerc #leclsrc2000 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader

[monzamash]

when we first met — charles leclerc

summary – the love story of sophia ricciardo & charles leclerc, a story so magical that even a princess would be envious. pairing – daniel ricciardo's sister x charles leclerc (she/her pronouns) warnings – moderate language, implied sex, google translated french word count – 1.6k a/n – thank you @lverofminemcyt for the request! Such a great idea and maybe I'll continue this story in a longer format in the future. But for now, enjoy! masterlist

You were 20 when you met Charles for the first time

– or more accurately, gawked at him from across the paddock at Silverstone. You’d read in the news that there was a rookie driving for Sauber – a young, Monégasque man who by all accounts was the "next big thing" in the world of Formula One. You tried to keep up with the comings and goings of the sport while ignoring all the slander being written about your brother, Daniel. Hard to do but not impossible.

“Is that the new guy?” You asked Max once you were far enough away from the handsome stranger who was heading in the opposite direction. Max followed your eye line and scoffed, visibly irritated by your question.

“Yes but I wouldn’t say he's the new guy. He’s been racing his whole life and the pain in my arse for just as long,” Max grumbled. You weren’t aware of the rivalry between the two young men but after a long, detailed explanation, you understood that Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc had a checkered history.

“He’s not worth your time, Sophia.”

Of course you didn’t listen to Max. The ‘karting incident’ he described when they were literally children sounded like child’s play (because it was) and you weren’t the type to take one persons word for anything. Max had become a fast friend to you in the paddock when you’d join your family on race weekends but he had a reputation for stretching the truth and you weren’t about that.

The first time you were officially introduced to Charles was at Seb Vettel’s birthday party three days after his stunning British GP win. And the celebrations were in full effect. Daniel was also in the points that weekend and practically begged you to come along, not that you needed a lot of convincing. You knew a certain Monégasque driver would be there and you loved a party, especially one thrown at Lewis Hamilton’s lavish London pad.

It didn’t take long for your paths to cross, almost as if you were both searching for a moment to be introduced. Charles had been guilty of staring at you across the paddock on race weekends and it was shocking that the two of you hadn’t officially met yet. But he felt like he knew you already.

“Dunno know if you two have met yet but this is Charles,” Daniel introduced, putting a particularly thick French accent on your new acquaintances name, making you both snicker silently, “And this is my much younger and much less attractive sister, Sophia.” Arsehole.

Charles extended his hand towards you and as cheesy as it sounded, you could feel the sparks flying as your hands clasped together. They were softer than you imagined, bigger than you imagined and boy had you been thinking about them lately – pathetically desperate, of course. His green eyes glistened under the dim lights and you could have sworn they sparkled like in the movies. His dimples danced on his rosy cheeks as he smiled small and it was if time had stopped, you couldn’t look away.

“Hello,” You squeaked out, unable to form a full sentence before Charles stepped in and saved you from total embarrassment, “Nice to meet you, Sophia."

The way your name fell from his perfectly accented lips had you spinning and clutching his hand for way longer than normal. But Charles held on too, taken by your light brown eyes that were gazing into his own. He felt like you were staring into his soul, searching for his darkest secrets and he loved every second – the intensity intrigued him. Your long brown hair cascaded down the back of your silky dark green dress, accentuating every curve that had him scrambling for his words again. He was in love.

“So, yes, your Daniel’s sister,” Charles quickly cleared his throat and gently dropped your hand before stuffing his own, shaky ones into his jean jacket pockets. Get it together, he thought to himself.

“Umm…” You had been so caught up in your daze that you hadn’t realised Daniel had left your side and was making his way around the house, greeting everyone he set eyes on, “Yes… Yep! Danny's little sister.”

Little sister, you grimaced internally. You were hopeless when it came to matters of the heart, which was why you were perpetually single with no end in sight.

“I assumed so,” Charles politely replied with a nod, “So are living here in London or…”

Charles knew the answer to his question. He’d found himself mindlessly scrolling through your Instagram after the Monaco Grand Prix, hoping to find out everything he could about the mystery woman he'd noticed wandering around with the Red Bull Racing team. That’s how he found out you were Daniel’s sister and felt his heart skip a beat when he got to the end of your profile and hadn’t seen a photo of a boyfriend.

He brushed away that thought almost immediately, knowing it was probably a case of wishful thinking. There was no way you were single, he thought. From his perspective you seemed to be the life of the party, much like your older brother. You waltzed around the paddock as if it was your own fashion runway, saying hello to everyone you passed on your walk to the RBR motor homes. Smiling until your cheeks hurt. Charles was convinced you were an angel sent from above.

“Well technically I live in Oxford – doing university there at the moment or at least trying to,” You explained, nipping at your bottom lip nervously, “But Danny has an apartment in London that he rents here and I crash there when he’s away, which is pretty much all the time.”

Charles smiled and tried his best to follow what you were saying. Although he had worked with a few Aussies in his short career, he still struggled to understand some of the lingo from time to time. But he didn’t care if he only understood every fifth word you said. He could've listened to you talk about the fine arts degree you were studying or that the uber you took to the party charged you extra forever and a day. He was utterly captivated.

And that was the beginning of your blossoming friendship. Charles had become your new comrade around the paddock on the off chance you got away from uni and showed up at a race. You had also been making a few extra trips to Monte Carlo to visit your brother – or at least that's what you said to your friends and family. The friendly smile emoji quickly turned into a heart when you signed off a message and you could feel your heartbeat skip every time his name showed up on your screen. Charlie ❤️

Six months. Six whole months of flirting and pretending like you wanted to be anywhere else but with the man of your dreams. Every day started and ended with him, either via text or on Facetime and all that back and forth, wondering which one of you was going to make the first move was answered in a matter of seconds. There’s nothing quite like a few too many glasses of red wine to reveal one’s true feelings.

“I’m in love with you, chéri. Have been since the second I laid my eyes on you.”

The rest of that night with Charles was a blur and before you knew it, you were tangled somewhere between his chest and bed sheets, moaning his name into the cool Monaco air. His fingertips explored every inch of your skin with feverish lips following closely behind, leaving small, barely visible marks as he went. His eyes rarely left yours as you savoured every movement, every kiss, every breath – you wanted it all with him. All those sleepless nights wishing you were the one making him moan with pleasure, hearing your name tumble from his mouth like you’d never heard before. Watching his eyes roll into the back of his skull, gripping, praying that he could hold on a little bit longer. He'd yearned for it for too long to not savour every second.

All your wishes had been answered as you laid in Charles’ arms, slowly returning to earth and closing your weary eyes. Sighs of contentment the only sound swirling through the air.

“Tu es envoyé de ciel, mon amour.” you are heaven sent, my love.

You didn’t speak French but whatever he'd whispered sounded sweet as he gently pressed his lips to your temple and said goodnight.

Whenever you took a second to reflect on your four-year relationship with Charles, you realised that you'd effectively grown up together, side-by-side. He was sitting in the crowded auditorium when you graduated from University, cheering you on when you received your bachelor’s degree and you were standing in pit lane when he won his first GP in Belgium, crying and celebrating in equal measures. You were both very different people compared to the two stuttering 20 year olds loitering in Lewis Hamilton’s mansion, searching for the right words to say.

“I’m so unbelievably in love with you, Charles.” You whispered in Charles’ ear as he popped open the champagne, laughing hysterically when gravity brought the cork back down to earth and landed in your lap.

You couldn’t stop staring at the diamond that now sat proudly on your left ring finger, endlessly pinching yourself that it was real. He’d caught you by surprise on your birthday, no less. Out on the Mediterranean Sea, looking back at the place that you now called home. Charles had anchored down the boat and dropped to one knee before you could even comprehend what was happening. Your hair blowing around in the wind with Monte Carlo twinkling in the background as the only a light source. You bobbed up and down in the bay, not knowing if you were seasick or lovesick - or both. Either way, you were gripping onto Charles for dear life as everything you'd ever wished for came true right in front of your eyes.

He carefully placed the ring on your finger once you whispered a soft ‘yes’ into the ether, eyes teary and smiles the size of the moon on your windswept faces. You couldn’t believe that the man of your dreams had asked you to marry him. You were on top of the world but most of all, you felt like the princess Charles had always claimed you to be.

“And I’m in love with you, Madame Leclerc.”

let me know what you think!

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc one shot #monzamash #mmrequested #charles leclerc smut #monzamashmasterlist #formula 1 one shot

[robby-bobby-tommy]

I haven't watched purgatory streams cuz I am too busy rn, but here's some hcs

- Only emotionally charged scars stay on the body. Like both Phil and Fit have their scars because they felt so betrayed. The other wounds heal with respawn.

- Fit thought that Pac not only helped to kill him, but also agreed to be a bait to lure 2b2t veteran in a trap. After this "betrayal" Fit's eyes change.

- as a dumbahh who watched arcane, I really like the idea of eye changing with emotional stability. Like powder — blue/grey eyes, Jinx — pink eyes. So I have a HC that after the incident Fit's usually brown eyes change to almost toxic green eyes.

- Fit has severe PTSD about 2b2t. The betrayal triggered it and now he doesn't trust people.

- also Fit has 2b2t gravured in his prosthetic arm/gauntlet.

- every time étoiles kills someone, they have a star shaped scar.

- Phil has star shaped scar. Also the majority of his scars from nightmare and code fight. Also some from earth smp.

- Phil had a very speedy, flying oriented battle type. Now he has a different fighting skills, but likes to attack from above (using paraglider)

- Fit's battle skills are way more grounded, he puts way more force in his punches and swings. He also used to fight with only gauntlets/bare hands, so he's a master of hand-to-hand combat.

- Étoiles is just a goat, but he's something in between. He's also very grounded, but is jumpy.

- Roier is a funny but quiet kid, when it comes to battles. Nobody expects it, but he's a pro. He's super good at breaking through shields and at unarming opponent.

- Fit and Phil train together, and it's fun. But sometimes when crowza accidentally triggers PTSD, Fits fighting style suddenly changes. He now doesn't fight to better his skills, he fights to survive. His punches become more chaotic and heavy. They both apologize later.

- Jaiden is literally "I'm a helpless little girl. And j set the building on fire by accident, tooootaly by accident. Also I brought this dynamite. Goodbye:)" And then everything blows up. She's the epitome of "act weak when you're strong".

- Pol (i sadly haven't watched any of his streams cuz of language barrier, but I think he deserves more recognition) only pretends being oblivious and indifferent towards federation. Like he's the first person from all frozen members to remember his past and cooperate with cucurucho.

- I kinda feel like Rubius is one of the old residents of the island.

- Aypierre is Ayanami Rei (/j but I honestly don't understand his lore. I use Tumblr as a news channel and I still don't know what happened to Pierre. Is he ayrobot? Do they now share a body???)

- after the nether Forevers hair go to shoulders.

- Rubius once was just a man. He was an original old resident. After a few years of working with people on the server he was promoted to an angel/devil entity. For it was funny at first, but soon enough it became boring, cuz he wasn't allowed to interact with people apart giving them quests. So he disguised himself as a man and left the island. Later he came back on train with everyone. For escaping and messing with people, giving them illegal stuff ect he was demoted and "fell from heaven". (This HC has literally no reasons, but I like it.

- Carre likes to stretch like a cat.

- team bollas sleep close to each other, but don't go under blankets, cuz in their base there's literal lava above the celling.

- Fit is severely touch starved but he doesn't always trusts enough. During qsmp he became more affectionate, and started to initiate touching. He always puts his hand of someone's shoulder to comfort them (baby steps). I don't feel like after purgatory this stays like that.

- it's not my headcanon, but I adore when people draw Bagi muscular. Like, I dunno why. But I love it so much.

- Missa is a real skeleton, so when death duo reunited for the first time, Phil literally detached wet cat's skull from the neck, yelling "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN"

- Some people have things that represent their close ones. Phil has skull, trinket (is it how it called?) of his kids on his back, flowers from forever, star keychain from étoiles and a bomb from Fit. Fit has Philza's feather, a necklace with a pacman on it, a bolt from Tubbo, and Ramon modifies his arm a lot. Ect ect.

- waaaay back when Slime went on a rampage after Juana's death, Fit called him to a tête-à-tête dialogue. At first he pushed Slime to the tree and put elbow on his neck, but during Charlie's monologue he let his guard down and even wanted to place his hand on the shoulder. Yet before that they were interrupted by Roier. (Also Charlie asking advice and trusting Fit all this time was quite sweet. Like, he even asked advice when dead eggs came back)

- during purgatory Phil balances himself with weapons.

- Charlie always suspected CodeFlippa wasn't the real one, but he deliberately chose to ignore that. Ignorance is a blessing.

- gladiator by Jann but Étoiles, you see what I see???

- Phil and Fit are terrible sleep bros. When they went to adventures with kids and had to sleep in the open, Fit couldn't sleep, listening to players steps, and Phil tried to figure out mobs. Also they play footsie (they said it on one stream, this is cannon. I really dunno are they besties or homos anymore)

- one of the ways to know if an avian on the server is sick is to see how their feathers react to water. If I'm correct, irl birds have a special stuff on them to not get wet. Only birds with sickness appear to be wet (mb not all birds are like that, I don't remember)

- just "are we still sisters?" Dialogue from arcane but Bagi and Cellbit

- everyone has bags under the eyes

That's all for now.

#qsmp #qsmp fitmc #qsmp philza #qsmp etoiles #qsmp pac #fitpac #qsmp roier #fitza #qsmp jaiden #qsmp polispol #qsmp aypierre #qsmp rubius #qsmp forever #qsmp carre #team bolas #qsmp bagi #qsmp missa #qsmp slimecicle #qsmp cellbit #qsmp headcanons #qsmp purgatory

[talesfromthesnogbox]

Nailed It

Summary: Eddie paints Steve's nails, Steve realizes some stuff. That's it, that's the fic.

Words: 1,745

Notes: This is all because I got my nails done on the weekend and thought "hmm, it's like super intimate having someone touch your hands for the better part of an hour"

AO3

-----

“So, whaddya say Harrington, yours next?”

His Saturday afternoons off had become Steve’s sacred Eddie days. He loved hanging out with Robin, but she usually worked the closing shift Saturday, and ever since adopting Eddie into their rag-tag group, Steve found himself wanting to hang out with him more.

On this particular Saturday afternoon, Steve and Eddie found themselves in Eddie’s messy bedroom of the new townhouse the government had gifted the Munsons. It wasn’t anything unusual for them, lounging on Eddie’s bed, a joint half-smoked between the two of them, a Bowie tape on in the background. But today, Eddie had pulled out something new.

From his closet, he’d pulled a dusty basket out, filled with nail polish in a rainbow of shades. He’d picked a forest green one, and got to work on himself, buffing his nails carefully and painting the varnish in smooth coats. Steve watched aptly, almost missing Eddie’s question.

“Sorry?”

Eddie smirked, and gestured to the basket. “Pick a shade, you want in?” 

Steve scoffed. “Isn’t nail polish—”

“Dude, if the next words outta your mouth are ‘for girls’, I—”

“No! No, that’s… I just… I don’t think it really fits my whole…” Steve waved his hands around his torso. “You know? You’re… well you’re you, it goes with the whole metal thing. I’m…”

“Hawkins royalty?” Eddie deadpanned.

“Come on, that’s not what I meant. You don’t think it would look out of place wearing black nail polish with my whole… I dunno… prep thing?”

The other boy scoffed. “Who said it had to be black polish? There’s a world of colour here Harrington, pick one.”

Steve eyed the basket carefully, looking through all the options. Eddie really did have a wide array of colours to choose from. It was clear Eddie used nail polish as yet another way to express his loud personality, stomping over gender norms and challenging people’s perception of who he is by the array of soft pinks next to the shiny black and vibrant red. He thumbed over the tops, picking up a few colours he thought could look nice, pretty even. 

It had taken El calling Steve pretty for him to understand that it wasn’t just something you could call girls. Boys could be pretty too, hell he’d even thought that on a few occasions, seeing men in passing with soft billowy shirts and perfectly coiffed hair. Steve looked back up at Eddie, his tongue between his lips as he focused on steadying his non-dominant hand, his hair half tied up falling in his eyes… and oh, he thought, a moment of understanding washing over him, Eddie is also sort of… pretty.

His cheeks burned red and he turned his attention back to the basket of varnish in front of him, picking a random colour from the bunch. It was fairly neutral, a soft terra cotta orangey brown that didn’t seem to be totally opaque; he thought it would look nice against his skin. “This one?”

Eddie nodded his head in approval of Steve’s choice, shaking his hands to dry the paint on his own nails. “Go wash your hands, scrub the gunk under your nails, I’ll start after mine are dry.”

Once Steve’s hands were sufficiently clean, Eddie got to work. He shook the bottle and twirled it between his hands, then took Steve’s hands in his to inspect his canvas. Steve almost immediately flushed. 

You see, Steve loved holding hands with the girls he’d dated. It was customary to hold a girl’s hand while you walked, or over the table waiting for dinner, but he’d never had his hands held so delicately by someone else.

Eddie thumbed over Steve’s nails, checking for rough or sharp edges. He definitely didn’t notice how Steve gawked at him.

“Looks good man, tell me if you hate the colour and I can start over.” 

Steve nodded, speechless in the moment while Eddie shook the little bottle again and twisted the lid. He took Steve’s hand again, shaking it a little.

“Dude, let go, you’re tense as hell.” 

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry, just not used to this.”

“Don’t worry big boy, I’ve gotcha.” Eddie threw to him with a wink.

Steve flushed at Eddie’s words, watching him go to work on his nails. The other boy was once again lost in concentration, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips as he swiped the paint over Steve’s pinky finger. He gave Steve a look, searching for approval with the colour, which Steve nodded to, and let Eddie continue. 

It was a wonder to Steve just how soft Eddie’s touch was. His hands were rough in a way that he could tell Eddie had been helping his uncle with their new vegetable garden in the backyard, the tips of his fingers calloused from playing his Warlock. But despite all that, his touch was just so damn gentle. Loud, boisterous Eddie with the touch of an angel.

“You good up there Steve-o?”

Steve blinked, and shook some hair from his eyes, coming out of his Eddie-induced trance. “What? Yeah, yeah I’m fine, why?”

“Well I’ve asked you like three times what you think Robin is gonna say about this.”

“O-oh.” Steve chuckled as a deep flush painted his cheeks. “Robs will love it, she’s begged me to let her paint my nails every time she stays the night like a ‘proper slumber party’, maybe I’ll actually let her do it sometime.”

“Oh? And why haven’t you?”

She’s not you. 

Steve shrugged away his answer, brushing off Eddie’s question. Every instinct within him told him to flirt, but this was Eddie, this wasn’t some random Hawkins girl he’d met up with on a whim. The Harrington Charm™ wasn’t meant for just anybody and —oh… did he want to flirt with Eddie? 

“Dude.” Eddie snorted. “You look like you just saw a ghost. You’re not gonna hurl on me, are you?” 

“You wish Munson.” What???

Eddie’s brow furrowed and he paused. “No, I really don’t actually.”

“Yeah, no you’re right.”

The other boy tightened the cap on the nail polish bottle, setting it aside. “Are you like… good? Like are you okay man?” 

Steve straightened, taken aback by Eddie’s question. “Yeah, yeah! Totally. I’m great, I’m just…” Eddie looked at him expectantly as he looked down to check out his nails. “Do you think they need another coat?”

Eddie smiled and took Steve’s hands again. “That can definitely be done. But I think they need to dry off a bit more first.” 

“Cool.” Steve and Eddie locked eyes, Eddie still holding Steve’s hands. 

“I can like… let go if you want me to.” 

“Yeah… no… yeah I’m good like this.” 

“Cool.” Eddie echoed Steve, not letting go. A few moments passed, before Eddie broke the tension with a sharp inhale. “Alright I think they’re dry enough for round two.” He got back to work, and this time, Steve had no issue unabashedly staring at his friend.

The tongue poke of concentration was back, and Steve wondered if he even knew he was doing it. His hair was a mess as per usual, but today he’d pulled the upper half of it back into a messy bun, leaving his neck exposed. His jaw looked strong, clenched, and his neck long and biteable. Biteable. I’ve never thought someone’s neck looked biteable. Eddie wore a tank top today, loose around his thin frame, but Steve noticed the definition in his arms; it was clear that toting around amps for Corroded Coffin had been paying off, among other things.

But still, his touch was so incredibly soft. 

People had Eddie all wrong. Sure, he was an oddball at times, making nerdy references, listening to loud music, wearing all the chains and the leather and the hanky that alluded to his preference for S&M, but he wasn’t some big scary mean nerd. Eddie could be a lot, but he could also be caring, and sensitive, and funny. He didn’t take bullshit from his friends, he held his inner circle to a higher standard, and knew that they’d expect that of him in return. Eddie was good, and oh god, do I have a crush on Eddie? 

Steve flinched with the realization, Eddie smacked his hand, bringing him back to the present. “Gonna make me get it all over you, hold still.” And wasn’t that something Steve had probably said in a much different scenario.

When he was done, Eddie pulled Steve’s hands up to eye-level to admire his work. “Not bad, usually Red complains that the colour bled into her cuticles but I think she just likes to complain. Whaddya think?”

Steve (reluctantly) took one of his hands out of Eddie’s grasp to look at his newly painted nails. It actually looked quite nice, and something about the fresh coat of paint made him feel different, like he was breaking out of a mould he once shaped.

“It looks awesome, thanks man.”

Eddie smiled bashfully, fiddling with the bottle. “No sweat. Hey, give it a sec and I’ll give you some lotion.” He pulled out a green tube and spread a dollop on each of Steve’s palms. “Wayne swears by this stuff in the winter, his knuckles get really bad.” With both of his thumbs, Eddie got to work rubbing the lotion into Steve’s palms and over his knuckles. “Wouldn’t be a proper manicure without a little massage, would it.”

All thoughts left Steve’s brain, it felt like Eddie’s fingers left a trail of fire where they went, gently but firmly coating his hands with lotion. It was good, Steve was relaxed, and he felt closer to Eddie than he ever had… but he didn’t want to move away.

“There. Now you’re done.” Eddie brushed his thumbs lightly over Steve’s palms, still not letting his hands go.

“Hey Eds?” Eddie quirked his brow in response. “You wanna grab dinner?” 

Eddie’s face was unreadable. “Like… out somewhere?”

“Yeah.” Steve paused. He’d never asked out a guy before, would Eddie think he was asking him to dinner just because he was the only gay guy Steve knew? Would he think Steve was trying to make fun of him? “Or, I dunno, we could order a pizza or something.” Nailed it coward.

The other boy smiled. “Sure Harrington, but if you fuck up those nails with pizza grease or something, I’m not redoing them.” 

Steve chuckled and smacked Eddie’s arm lightly. Maybe next time.

#steddie fic #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing

[ashintheairlikesnow]

hey hey hey I have had a hell of a day (Actually Hell) because I did too many fun things (a problem apparently) and then also we put up the christmas tree leading to the inevitable christmas tree installation arguments (they pop up every year like clockwork!)

anyway i have been overstimulated and stressed (just want to emphasize that there is NO pressure here whatsoever! id like to avoid any semblance of that actually and I know you're already working on 12 days so take your time) and it would be very cathartic to see chris dealing with similar issues (the Wonderful guy. we are pretty similar.) thanks a lot for reading this, even if you don't write anything !

Sorry this took so long, Anon! I swear I've been trying to get this written for literally almost two months now

CW: Some references to Chris's past, overstimulation, anxiety

"Hey, where did Chris go?" Laken blinks and looks around, but the living room of the house they rent - filled with laughing, happy people - shows no sign of Chris's telltale lavender hair with its new-penny copper roots.

One of Brit's friends just shrugs at them and gestures, vaguely, in the direction of the kitchen. "Dunno. He wandered off a while ago, maybe that way?"

"Oh, okay. Huh." Laken steps back, the circle of laughing people closing up tight as soon as they do. Their dark eyes scan the room, but there's no sign of him.

He'd been doing great - all but holding court, one of the most popular people at the party. He's sort of famous, since the Olympics, and people had been peppering him with questions and compliments, crowding around wanting nothing more than to be friends with the ex-pet who stood up to the bad guys on live TV. They'd seen him dancing, too, the music loud enough to nearly make the walls shake. The easy, unselfconscious dancing they loved in him the most.

He'd seemed to be enjoying himself, at the time, but...

Where has he gone?

They weave around people, stopping to pick up an ornament that has fallen off the tree. The scent of pine is subtle and ever-present, and they carefully work the ornament's little loop back over a branch, ruefully watching a couple of pine needles come loose and drift down. The damn thing is already starting to turn a little brown around its edges, thanks to Laken's roommate having insisted on buying it literally the day before Thanksgiving.

Laken doesn't even celebrate Christmas, not since they stopped going to Mass on Christmas Eve years and years ago. Still, in a house they rent with three others, they're the only one who doesn't at least pay lip service to the holiday.

And even if they don't give a fuck about Christmas, they do like having an excuse to throw a party.

The tinsel wrapped in spirals around, over, and below the ornaments glitters in the light, and the look makes them think of Chris, and how his eyes have always looked just the same, to them, when they're out at night and the moon hits the green of his irises just right.

Their search leads them to Ben, contentedly sitting on the couch, a drink in one hand and his phone in the other, quietly reading something there while the party is in full swing around him. He glances up and then instinctively, immediately, uses a finger to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Hey, Laken. What's up?"

"Is Akio not coming tonight?"

"Oh... no." Ben blushes - it's adorable, and Laken can't help the smile playing around their lips. "He's got some kind of meeting with the gymnastics team, or his coaches? Or... something like that. He said sorry, though."

"Nah, no problem. But, hey, so. Uh, have you seen Chris, like within the last ten minutes or so??"

Someone puts Christmas music on and Laken shudders as they hear that damn 80s pop song start up again. If they have to hear that fucking song one more time...

"Nope. Not in a while." Ben shrugs, taking a drink. Whatever he has in that cup is pinkish-red and probably far more alcoholic than it tastes. Laken's roommate had insisted on a signature cocktail. "You could check outside? Sometimes when there's a lot of people, to Chris it's... too much."

Laken nods, still scanning the crowd, but their stomach knots a little with the first hit of real anxiety. Ben is right, Chris can get overwhelmed by too much noise and movement, but also he's been drinking tonight - they saw the same red punch in a cup in his hands earlier - and he has a tendency to get... hazy, when he drinks. Flirty in ways that aren't natural to him. Willing to let people hug him that he doesn't like, unable to bring himself to stop them. Sometimes his stammer smooths out, which makes people who don't know him feel more comfortable and people who do know him nervous. He starts tipping his head to the side in a way that makes the sweep of his growing-out hair hide the scar on his forehead, biting his lower lip when he smiles. It makes Laken feel a little sick to see it happen and realize Chris doesn't even notice when he's doing it.

The last thing they need is to have to come up with an explanation for Chris losing track of himself again, or why he's eating olives off the charcuterie board Brit brought knowing damn well he'll just go to the bathroom and get sick all over the place again, or... fuck, what if somebody hits on him and he's too drunk to stop it?

That hasn't happened since college, but...

They pull their phone out, uneasily checking for a text, but there's nothing. If he went outside, he'd text, right? He does, he always does. Texts can be easier and Chris is always a little nervous about being outside alone.

He insisted on coming tonight, said he was feeling good lately, but-... what if-...

They flinch when fingers touch their arm, only to see Ben must have stood up when they weren't looking. He slips his own phone into his jacket pocket and looks Laken over more closely. "Hey. It's okay, he's probably fine. You know he gets weird when parties are really going. It's like a light switch, enough to too much, I totally get it. It's why I'm on the couch fucking around on Kindle instead of, you know... talking to people." Ben says it like talking to people is literal hell, and... okay, Laken can see how that might be the case. "He probably just needed to get away from it and wandered off."

"Uh, yeah. I know." Laken rubs at the back of their neck, fingers moving through the soft, shorn undercut beneath their longer black waves. "I'm sure that's it. Just... you know, sometimes he... when he gets nervous..."

"I got you." They adore Ben, sometimes, for how often they don't have to finish the sentences they don't want to say. He knows what words haven't yet spilled, unwilling. Sometimes he acts like he belongs to us, not like he loves us. Sometimes I can't trust him to find his way back on his own. Sometimes I feel like Jake, and I hate feeling like Jake.

Words die in their throat.

Ben squeezes their arm, gently. "Let's split up and search around. I'll go outside, you go around the house, okay? We verify how he is, then whichever one finds him tells the other. Sound good?" Ben smiles, and Laken relaxes a little, finding a smile for him in return.

"Yeah, sounds good. Thanks, Ben."

"No problem." Ben has always understood Chris, thanks to his little brother being similar in some ways. He understands Laken's worry, too, because better than anyone else here - he knows how Chris sometimes gets lost in his past, especially if he's drinking, worse the maybe twice Laken's ever seen him try an edible or a pill.

What if he got drunk and someone offered him something and he took it? Drunk Chris sometimes isn't a Chris who can easily turn down anything he's offered.

This party was a stupid idea.

Laken takes a deep breath and squares their shoulders.

Chris is not a child.

He is a goddamn grown man and Laken is not his keeper. They're not his parent and they're not a babysitter. They're definitely not his fucking... owner or whatever the bastards that hurt him would have called it. They're his partner. He can handle himself, better than they could if they'd lived his life, and they need to trust him to either know his limits and to get away if he can't say no, or to come to them if he wants to ask for help. Otherwise, they're not any better than the bullshit he's been buried in for longer than he's known them.

Ben goes to check outside, slipping silently out the sliding door onto the back porch where a small crowd has congregated in a cloud of skunky smoke, while Laken heads upstairs, peeking their head in to room after room with no sign of him anywhere. They see some movement under a pile of coats, but that's... definitely not Chris, based on the very female voices who yell at them to give them some fucking privacy, please.

"Sorry, Brit," Laken calls, closing the door tightly. "And, um, Leigh. Just looking for Chris-"

"Well, he isn't in here or we'd have kicked him out already," Brit says, cranky but without any real anger in her voice. Laken doesn't recognize the redhead whose eyes pop up from beneath the pile of coats next to her. "Check a different room."

"Yeah, I will. Uh... keep having fun, I guess-"

"That's the plan! Now leave, please!"

The door latches as they close it, and they exhale. There's one room left, at the end of the hall, and they can hear a familiar murmuring from behind the door when they press their ear up against it.

Laken knocks, rapping gently with their knuckles, and turns the knob when they hear no answer - but no demand to stay out either. The murmuring goes silent. They sigh, and the door swings open, light cutting across the carpet until it reveals their wayward boyfriend.

No one has claimed this bedroom yet, so it's bare and empty except for a couple unpacked cardboard boxes, Brit's exercise bike by the window, a couple of her yoga mats, a laundry basket with a few folded towels, and a bare mattress the last housemate had left behind on the floor when they moved out.

Laken's lips press together, eyes scanning the room. Chris's phone is on the mattress, along with an empty beer bottle, but Chris isn't. "Chris? Cariño?"

A muffled rustling makes them jump, heart in their throat, and then they realize the sound came from the closet, where the folding doors are closed. Laken pulls them open to reveal Chris curled up, knees nearly to his chin, an open bottle clutched in one hand, his chewy necklace in the other. He'd chosen the bat one tonight, and his hand is closed around it in such a tight fist Laken can tell his knuckles are white even in the dark.

Chris doesn't look at them. He's swaying, rocking forward and back, his eyes focused on something far, far away from them. There's red lines on his left wrist, where he's dug his nails in, scratching not quite deep enough to draw blood, but close. Laken takes a deep breath, shifting into a crouch.

"Talk to me, Chris."

"No." The answer is flat, and they watch his thumb rub over the little nub of the silicone bat's nose, the points of its tiny ears. "No, no, no. No."

At least he's saying it out loud.

That alone makes the knot of anxiety in their chest start to loosen. If he can say no, he isn't gone, maybe just... standing a little farther back, inside his own head, than the surface.

"Okay. Okay, that's fine. No talking, that's fine. Are you okay, baby?" Laken keeps their voice just above a whisper and lays their hand on the wood trim that frames this shitty excuse for a closet, the floor creaking under them. "You... kind of vanished on me, there."

Chris's eyes flick to them and then away again. "Loud," He manages, and he sounds like he's forcing the word out between gritted teeth. Maybe he is. "Too, too, too... too loud. Too much, too... many."

"I guess Ben called it." Laken sighs, pulling out their phone and sending Ben a quick text that they found Chris and everything's fine. they get a thumbs-up in reply almost immediately. Ben must have been as anxious as they are, if he was just watching for their text to come in. "Do you want me to call Jake to come get you, or..."

"No!" He snaps it, and Laken tries not to wince. He's just struggling with the noise of the party, they tell themself, he's not actually angry. Chris almost never gets angry, and even then it's only at himself. Which... is worse, somehow. "No. Just... Quiet, it's... it's it's quiet."

"Right. Do you want me to stay with you? Be quiet with you?"

He shakes his head, but he doesn't say anything else. His mouth moves, but no further sounds come out.

"Chris, did..." They want to ask, did someone say something to you? Sometimes people said things, referenced pets or something in a way that set him off. But even if someone had... he probably wouldn't tell them, at least not now, not when every word seemed to have to filter through layer after layer of self-protection in his mind. "Never mind. Is there anything I can do for you? Water, or..."

He shakes his head. "No. Just. Um. Quiet... quiet, now. Please?"

"Yeah." Laken leans over and presses a kiss to his hair. He tips his head against their lips and they exhale in relief. "I love you, Chris. Come back if you can, but if you can't, that's okay, too. Just don't hurt yourself, okay? Things should start winding down in a couple hours." They take the little plastic bat and push it against the hand that's still scratching at his shoulder, until he takes hold of it again, pressing it against his mouth and running it back and forth, back and forth.

Chris is quiet, but as they open the door to head back into the hallway, they hear a quiet, "Love, love you," from Chris, barely audible.

They smile as they close the door. Down the hall, the sounds of the party hit them like a brick, beckoning them back to the noise and the cheer and the awful fucking Christmas music still blaring at top volume. Someone yells something out and the whole damn crowd cheers, making Laken wince at it feels nearly deafening.

Maybe Chris has the right idea.

-

@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @whumpyourdamnpears @cubeswhump @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things

#whump #chris the strawberry blond romantic #recovery whump #recovering whumpee #overstimulation tw #autistic whumpee #referenced alcohol use #laken mamani #referenced dubcon #angst #fluff #comf #I guess this is the one that wins out first of the drafts? #we'll see if kauri or vince wins out next

[marvelgaynesstothemax]

A/N: Heyyy, so I rarely publish fanfic work, but I feel kinda proud of this one I ended up writing during my off time. I dunno if I’m gonna end up publishing fanfic or not on here, but I figured I would give it a shot. Constructive criticism is much appreciated, and I’ve got zero clue what to title this so ideas are also welcome! Thank you! <3

Warnings: Swimmers Ear/Ear infection, Soft Frank, Hurt Matt, Brief Mention of Frankie Jr., Brief Mention of Past Matt/Elektra, Swearing, Hurt/Comfort, based off another post of mine under the tag “Swimmer’s Ear” (Tumblr won’t let me put the link for some reason sorry.)

Also sorry, the timeline is kinda weird?? Think of it as they were already together before Frank’s actual appearance in season 2 I guess? Idk. This is suppose to take place about a day after he shoves Matt in the Hudson and the boat explodes, but they already have an established relationship.

The first groan is rather quiet, it barely wakes Frank, the marine’s sleep-addled brain quick to write off the sound as Matt just having a dream. The second groan though is much quicker to grab his attention, brown eyes still bleary with slumber as he blinks awake to the feeling of his lover shifting beside him in bed.

“Mm..?” Is just about all Frank can scrounge up from his vocal cords this early in the morning, the marine tossing a squinting glance over his bicep to get a look at the other. Matt doesn’t answer his grunt, so Frank tries again.

Nothing.

A couple of months back Frank never could’ve imagined himself getting cozy in bed with Red, probably would’ve decked any person to suggest he’d be where he is today. Yet, here the fuck he is, sitting up in their bed 1 hour past midnight to check on him. Life either liked to be contrary son of a bitch, or Matthew Micheal Murdock enjoyed spiting Frank Castle with his very existence.

“Red?” Leaning over the lawyer’s tense frame, Frank absentmindedly presses the back of his hand to the restless man’s forehead. He doesn’t feel hot, but there was no mistaking the sweat gathering at Matt’s brow line. There’s a whimper and a momentary flutter of eyelids before Matt half-opens his eyes for Frank, clouded pupils glistening with unshed tears as his breathing grows more labored. Another groan.

Concern growing, Frank purses his lips and presses them to Matt’s forehead. He gets the same result as his hand, no fever, just clammy. “Where’s it hurt?” Frank whispers, swallowing down the anxiousness quelling in his throat when he only receives another whimper in reply. “Matty, please, I need ya to use your words.”

Matt’s expression suddenly contorts in pain at a particularly labored breath, and if Frank’s eyes weren’t so accustomed to adjusting to the dark he wouldn’t have even noticed it. Red immediately goes green around the gills from the involuntary movement of his own chest, eyes squeezing shut just a fraction tighter.

“You’re head hurtin’ you, Matty?” Frank whispers gently, taking note of his dizziness. He’s seen Matt deal with his fair share of migraines, but he’s never seen anything quite this intense…

“E-Ears…” The barely audible mumble has an instant effect on Matt, the vibrations of his own voice making him go so pale Frank would have trouble telling the difference between Matt’s skin and a sheet of paper in this lighting.

Small snippets of Frankie Jr. resting his head on the dinner table suddenly rush to the front of Frank’s mind. How his son, just a toddler at the time, cupped his ears and said he felt like he was moving on a swingset a week or so after visiting the public pool. Spilt second images of his son’s face as he carries him to bed are quick to follow and Frank actually has to bite the inside of his cheek to bring himself back to the present.

He feels like a moron. The Hudson River is a fucking cesspit, of course Red would get an ear infection after getting shoved in it! And with his senses, Frank doesn’t even want to imagine the kind of pain he is in…

Another whimper has Frank shushing Matt like he’s some sort of spooked animal, sleep gone from his brain as he internally scrambles to figure out a solution.

What the fuck had they gone and done again for Frankie Jr.? He knows they didn’t just wait that shit out, it’d been a whole fucking ordeal that caused his son to have to stay home for a couple of days… It’s time’s like these Frank curses his body’s stubbornly good immunity. If he’d just had a goddamn ear infection growing up this wouldn’t be so hard freaking to remember.

“Hang on, Baby. Gotta look something up real quick, yeah?” Nervous to jostle Matt any further, he strategically extracts himself from the mattress, giving up the warmth of the blankets for the night-chilled air of the bedroom.

Retrieving his phone from its plug, the marine stubbornly ignores the stinging in his eyes as he punches their current predicament into the glaring white screen of google’s search bar.

‘What in the fuck fixes swimmwe ear???’

A few quick glances at the articles below tell Frank all he needs. Matt needs ear drops.

The walk to the nearest open drug store is a pain in the ass, but it’s one that Frank muscles through with the ease of a well disciplined soldier. He has only one goal, and that’s to get Matt his ear drops before the sun is up so they can both go back to sleep.

Turns out that is much easier said than done, because the place is built like a fucking maze and at this hour the amount of people to ask for directions is zilch. He must scour the aisles for at least half an hour before he finds the little shits, gritting his teeth with barely suppressed rage as he swipes the second-to-cheapest option off the metallic shelf.

He pays the dead-inside employee at the store front about 15 minutes later, neither one giving each other any more than a grunt of acknowledgment as the medicine is bought and bagged.

By the time that Frank gets back, his foot that the Irish fucked up is aching from the long walk, but he doesn’t dare use that rickety ass elevator.

He staggers up those poorly carpeted stairs like a god damn man, thank you very much.

“Matty? You up, Sweetheart?” Trying to tiptoe into a room with fucked up toe knuckles is pointless, he but finds himself trying anyways without really thinking about it.

God, his side of bed looks just like how he left it. Sheets open and inviting, waiting for him to nestle right back in… It would be so fucking easy too, to just crawl into them and sleep.

Matt’s shaky whimper snaps Frank back into focus, his right hand softly crinkling the brown paper of the shopping bag reminding him of his mission. “I know, I know… Quit you’re howlin’ and we can both go back to sleep.” He grumbles, but there’s no real heat behind his words, any and all bite gone from his bark upon seeing his lover’s furrowed brows.

His hands seem to remember what the fuck to do with the drops, cause before he knows it he’s got the package opened and the dropper positioned over one of Matt’s ear.

“Shhh... Jus’ got somethin’ for your ears, Red...” The box recommends 5-6 drops in each ear, but Frank only gets up to 3 before Matt chokes out a noise so awful that he has to stop. One of Matt’s hands find the front of his hoodie, zipper clinking as the man bunches the fabric in his shaking fist, jaw clenching so damn tightly Frank actually worry’s for the sake of his lover’s teeth. They both stay like that for what feels like ages, Matt’s chest struggling to slow its heaving as his ear tries adjusting to the foreign pressure of the medicine flooding it.

Frank’s lips find Matt’s clammy skin, stubble brushing against his brow line as he murmurs words of comfort, eyes squeezing shut in sympathy as he waits for Matt to adjust. “Okay, no more on this side, yeah? But we gotta do you’re other ear.”

He’s never seen Matt so out of it before, eyes half-lidded and lashes glistening wet with fresh tears… The silent scream of agony on his lover’s face when he rolls him over physically pains Frank heart, jumbled apologies and gentle kisses falling upon Red’s sweating face as he can do nothing but wait out the waves of dizzying pain with him.

“Doing so good, Red, you’re so good. I’m sorry, I’m sorry it hurts…” Frank whispers between presses of his lips, throat feeling tight. He can deal fatal shots to any thuggish asshole, cut the dick off of any pedo in the world, but putting these drops in Matt’s ears? Bringing himself to do it a second time around is feeling increasingly more difficult as the seconds tick by.

His hesitation must break through to Red in some way, because suddenly Matt’s hand is no longer clutching his sweatshirt, but his free hand instead. His grip is weaker, hand clammy like it would be during a fever, and somehow that’s all the more haunting to Frank.

Frank can deal with Red grabbing at his face as he resets a broken bone, digging his fingernails into one of his arms as he disinfects a particularly nasty wound, or instinctively headbutting Frank in the nose while attempting to reset a dislocated shoulder (it’s happened before), but this? Seeing his Matty so completely and utterly drained, losing that fiery look in his eyes? It’s fucking killing him inside.

“On the count of 3.” Frank takes a deep breath to steady his hands, closing his eyes so that he doesn’t have to look at Red’s pained expression. “1… 2… 3.” He squeezes much quicker than he did for the other ear, rapidly dripping 5 drops in quick succession down Matt’s ear canal.

Matt let’s out a sob this time and Frank ends up throwing the damned medicine across the room, the plastic material of the bottle bouncing off the brick wall and onto the hardwood floor with a clatter. He swears to fucking God if these drops end up doing more damage than good, he’s gonna kill whatever pharmaceutical experts created the damn stuff. “I know, I know, shhh… Shhh… I’m so sorry, Honey.. Fuck…”

Frank wipes at the streaming tears falling down Matt’s cheeks, heart panging as he watches his love shudder. Frank remains hunched over the top of Matt like that for a good fucking while, letting him take comfort in the feeling of his frame being boxed in by the marine. Frank watches the clock as the minutes tick by, and although Matt does eventually fall back asleep, his expression is still clouded with discomfort.

Frank looks around the bedroom, eyes catching on the spare blankets folded by the laundry basket. An idea sparks.

The need to empty his bladder has Matt waking up again around 9, head and ears aching, but thankfully no where near as bad as they had been last night. Sitting up, Matt grasps the sheets on either side of him, gritting his teeth as he waits for the swaying sensation to lessen its force before making his way to his feet. It isn’t until he’s finished relieving himself that Matt realizes the odd quietness of his flat. His ear’s aren’t exactly up to par at the moment, but he should at least be able to hear the neighbors. Is New York alright? Did he miss something big while he was sleeping? Where is Frank?

A careful walk into the living room has Matt stopping in his tracks for two reasons. Firstly, the stench of freshly applied duct tape is currently wafting from each and every crevice his apartment has to offer. From the slight cracks in the brick wall, to the small opening underneath the front door, it was all either taped off or stuffed with varying pieces cloth to muffle any intrusive sounds the outside may have.

Secondly, Frank is fast asleep, sat up against the wall outside of the bedroom, a mostly used roll of duct tap still being held in one hand. Other than the apartment’s appliances, Frank’s heartbeat and breathing are the only other sounds encompassing the home.

Matt had been reluctant to start another relationship at first, especially after Elektra... After all, when it came to unhealthy relationships, Matt has acquired quite a lengthy wrap sheet.

He can’t even imagine a world in which Elektra would’ve gone out of her way to do this for him. But Frank? Frank just did this without Matt even knowing that this is something he needed. Not to show off, not for the purpose of dragging praise out of Matt, but because Frank knew that this would make Matt’s situation just a bit more bearable when he woke up

Here, right now in this moment, with none other than Francis Antonio Castle snoring softly on his hardwood floor, Matt couldn’t possibly be more sure that he’s finally made the right choice.

#if I can improve let me know how #swimmer’s ear #punisher #daredevil #frankmatt #first fanfic #frank castle #fratt #matthew murdock #hurt/comfort #hurt!matt #soft!frank #ear infection #fluffy #I think #pet names #gayshipsareyayships #the punisher #frank castle x matt murdock #fratt fic #mine #fanfic #fanfiction

[sminny-wew]

Meeting of the Nettos

-

THUD!

After what felt like an eternity of freefall, Megaman.EXE suddenly hit solid, hard ground.

"Oww..." The orange navi groaned from his landing spot on the ground. After taking a moment to recover and gather himself, Megaman pulled himself upright and tried to inspect his surroundings.

He blinked his green eyes in confusion. He was standing in some kind of strange, white void. He squinted his eyes, straining to understand how far the space stretched, but no matter how hard he focused, he could not make out any sort of horizon; there didn't even seem to be a floor, despite the ground feeling completely solid beneath his feet. It couldn't possibly be the real world, but this place didn't feel like anywhere on the net, either. Was he dreaming somehow?

"Where the heck am I??" he cried out.

"Whoa! Another navi me?!"

Megaman whirled around at the voice of a sudden new presence in the void, and found himself face-to-face with...

...himself?

The other navi definitely had his face, but certain other details were different. He had the same orange gloves and boots, but his bodysuit was a plain black compared to his own dark orange. He also wore a full orange helmet, with a white antenna on both sides and short tufts of dark artificial hair poking out at the back. All the same, the Hikari family crest rested on the front of his helmet, the sides, and on his chest. But perhaps the biggest (and most curious) difference was that the other navi had brown eyes.

Hub's eyes.

"Whoa...!" The delayed shock finally struck Megaman, and he jumped in surprise. "Who are you? Why do you look like me??"

"That's what I wanna know!" said the lookalike, seeming oddly less surprised than Megaman figured he should be, and far more excited. "You're a Netto too, right?"

He blinked. "Huh?"

"Ah, wait, you go by Lan, don't you?"

Megaman's eyes widened slightly at the use of his real name, and he forced out a rather unconvincing laugh. "I dunno where you got that name from, but you're looking at the one and only Megaman!"

The other navi's eyes lit up in a surge of excitement. "No way! You go by Megaman too??"

Megaman deflated slightly. "Y-Yeah...? Is that name common around...wherever we are?"

"Sorta," said the other Megaman, "But in my case, I'm not usually a navi."

"Aaaaand you lost me," said Megaman, his brows furrowed in confusion, and brought a hand to his chin. "Hey, wait. If you're really another me, then...were you made the same way?"

The other Megaman shrugged. "I dunno, did you and your Rockman fight an ancient net entity that grants people's wishes by warping reality?"

Megaman merely blinked in silence.

The other Megaman grinned sheepishly, rubbing his hand against the nape of his neck. "Guess not."

Megaman let out a small sigh and shifted into a sitting position. "Normally I don't like to talk about when I was made. But, weirdly enough, I feel like I could talk to you about it because you remind me of more than just...well, me. You kinda remind me of Hub, too."

The other Megaman tilted his head with curious interest, moving to join him on the ground. "Who's Hub?"

"He's my operator. He's kind of shy and quiet, but he's a really nice and friendly kid. He's also really smart and focused!! Without him, I never would've stood a chance against World Three or anybody else!"

"Hey," said the other Megaman suddenly, "Just, out of curiosity, are you and Hub...twins?"

Megaman's eyes widened. "I...how'd you know?"

The other Megaman gave a weak smile. "Normally, I can be pretty clueless about a lot of things. But, if you're me, and you're a navi, and you were made, then...I think I understand."

Brown eyes locked with green.

"You were the one who had HBD, weren't you?"

Megaman gulped, but it was more of a phantom reflex than anything else. "...Yeah. When we were born, Hub turned out perfectly healthy, but...I wasn't so lucky." He shook his head, as though to ward off any negative thoughts. "But Dad didn't wanna give up on me. He worked day and night, trying to incorporate my DNA with the Navi Project to bring me back. And eventually, right around Hub's 10th birthday...there I was, all finished and ready to meet him. We've been together ever since: stopping netcrime and making the world a better place for humans and navis to live peacefully." He tilted his head downward. "I just wish we weren't always separated by a screen."

A silence hung between the two orange navis. Neither was entirely sure what to say next.

"...Are you mad at your dad?"

Megaman looked to his counterpart. "For what?"

"For doing that to you. Did he ever make you feel...inferior? Like you were just a backup of the real Lan?"

Megaman's brow raised. Where was this coming from? "Not...really? I mean, for a while I couldn't tell Hub who I was even though I really wanted to, and it was kinda hard to keep it secret, but other than that...Dad always seemed to think of me as Lan. I mean...I feel like I'm the real Lan. Never really had any reason to doubt myself."

The other Megaman hummed flatly. "Gotcha."

Feeling a sense of concern, Megaman side-eyed his counterpart. "Is...is your Hub okay?"

The other Megaman gave a solemn nod. "His name's Saito, actually, but he also goes by Rockman. And...he wasn't okay for a while, but I didn't know it at first. He'd been building fences around his true feelings and keeping them hidden, so I never knew just how much he was hurting." He brought a hand to his chest. "He was so scared at first when the entity switched our places. I had to keep reminding him to breathe just so he wouldn't pass out. I could tell he was really excited to be human and getting to just, live, y'know? But he felt like he didn't deserve it, like he'd stolen my life from me. Like he'd stolen Saito's life."

He looked back to Megaman, though the melancholy on his face had given way to vigor, and his brown eyes shone with it. "But after everything we've been through together, especially on Torishima...I feel like those fences are finally gone, and me and Saito are closer than ever! Brothers, no matter what!"

That smile was infectious, and Megaman couldn't help himself. "Yeah...just like me and Hub! Nothing can stop us, 'cause no matter what, we're always connected!" He then sighed defeatedly. "I just wish one of them was here now, they could help us find a way out of this place."

"I guess we better go find the others then."

Megaman did a double take. "Others??"

"Yeah! You didn't think we were the only ones here, did you?" He stood up and gestured for Megaman to follow him. "C'mon!"

The two walked for some time, though exactly how long, Megaman wasn't certain. For all he knew, time may not even exist in this endless white void. But, soon enough, they came upon a growing crowd, and Megaman's eyes widened.

An entire group of other Lans, or Nettos, or whatever they called themselves, stood amongst each other. They were either chatting, laughing, or just looking around in excited confusion. Some were navis, just like him. Others seemed to be completely human. At least one of them even appeared to be a girl.

Netto Megaman slung his arm around his shocked counterpart's shoulder. "We still don't really know where we are, but since it just seems to be other Nettos and Lans here, I've been calling it 'the Nettoverse'! Pretty cool, huh? It's like something out of a superhero movie!"

His mind spinning faster than he could keep up with, Lan Megaman shook his head.

"This...is...AWESOME!"

#megaman battle network #megaman #lan hikari #netto hikari #megaman.exe #rockman.exe #MegaLan AU #Running Up That Hill #nettoverse #artsy fartsy #I can't write anymore blaghhh #I was worried I wasn't gonna get this up before class but I just made it lmao

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Hiii! So, I'm kinda nervous to try but I wanna try the whole matchmaking thing for DC if you don't mind?

So, I'm 5'1, have shoulder length fluffy black hair, I have brownish yellow skin, have a scar above my left eyebrow from some stitches I got there, and dark-ish brown eyes.

I'd say I'm an energetic person, but at the same time have almost no energy for anything if that makes sense? I'm energetic if it's something I like, tired 24/7 otherwise. I'm self diagnosed with Autism and ADHD, waiting on an official diagnosis when I have the money for it. My favorite colors are green, blue, purple, red and black. I like dancing, singing, am super into music, learning how to skateboard right now, I love riding bikes, I am obsessed with reading, I enjoy theatre and am probably a theatre kid. I also like watching anime. I don't really have any close friends, but I do have a lot of friends and acquaintances! I'm a social butterfly and can Yap about anything I'm passionate about. I'm bisexual (masc leaning) and Genderfluid. I love animals and currently do ballet. I'm also a math whiz and a science whiz.

My fashion sense leans on more goth, punk, emo, alt, and Cottagecore. I constantly wear platforms and spiked rings, sometimes dangly earrings. I also wear fingerless gloves a lot. And I mostly wear black.

I dunno what else I can use to describe myself, so I hope this is enough?

Your DCU Ship: Tim Drake

Explanation: starting off with physical attraction, I think he would be very attracted to you. He’s not much taller than you. He’s about 5 inches taller than you and I think that he likes that you’re shorter than him because it’s often hard to find a person that is shorter than him.  he would also probably find your scars pretty bad ass cool and definitely ask lots of questions about where you got them and if you were ever insecure about your scars, he would just tell you how cool they make you look. he also thinks that your brown eyes are really pretty, and if you ever tried to insist that they were just plain brown eyes, and there was nothing special about them then he would definitely start comparing them to all sorts of pretty brown things like the rich soil of the earth or the darkest chestnut wood, chocolate, and coffee or things like that. yes this does make sense. I’m kind of a similar person and also I think that you and Tim would be a great balance. He’s always kind of tired and he doesn’t really sleep or he’s alarm clocks and he’s always kind of drained so I think that you guys will make a good couples, especially with your constant energy. I feel like it would energize him a bit, and he would make you a little bit less chaotic and give you a little bit more motivation to do things. If you were ever tired because it was a boring day then I’m sure he would make coffee with you and then try to cheer you up a little bit and you guys will be just cute little coffee, grumpy people together. He would also totally do a lot of outdoorsy activities with you even though he’s more of a stay and read person. He’s more of an introvert so I feel like your social butterfly would kind of bring him out of that a little bit and he could help you kind of not overwhelming yourself with social interaction. also, if you’re into math and science, you guys would totally geek out together like I feel like you would be so cool. You guys could just go into a room and talk for hours about that stuff and never get bored and I feel like he’d be very happy that you share some of those more similar hobbies to him and I mean he is literally a better detective than Bruce Wayne himself. He’s extremely intelligent so he would love discussing those things with you, as a kid, he listens to musicals. I feel like not a theater kid himself, but he would listen to musicals with you, and I feel like he would listen to his musicals on his own anyway, and he would come to all of her shows and always be super supportive. he also really loves your fashion taste and I feel like that’s kind of what made you stick out to him in the first place as he was like oh my gosh that person is so cool and I’m such a nerd. I’m such a dork like and he was super awkward approaching you and then you approach him and started talking to him and he probably got pretty flustered and awkward and I don’t know. I just feel like it would kind of be a really funny interaction for you to guys to have because I mean, I have a theory that he’s incredibly confident as red Robin his superhero persona but when he’s Tim Drake, he is so awkward man. He cannot hold a conversation and then red Robin. He’s like so smooth talking that’s my theory. anyway yall r cutieee 💙

#urlocalnonbinarybastardwritesanswers #tim drake x you #tim drake hcs #tim drake headcanons #tim Drake #the bat boys dc #dc univerise online #dc fandom #dc #dc robin #dcu #dc comics #dc universe

[amiizuki]

small edits of the epilogue designs of the main 5

(not including Eda, Lilith and Vee, I think they look okay and I honestly dunno what to change with their designs)

btw these are all gonna be edits of the renders from the owl house wiki, because my drawing skills are too ass to draw designs from scratch

Luz:

'ight, I gotta get this out right off the bat – I fucking hate Luz's ugly as fuck pants

everything else in her outfit looks great – I love the snake on the jacket (and how it kinda blends in with the stripes on her shirt), I love her wearing the striped shirt she was wearing in the pilot and I love that she's wearing Amity's old necklace, but the pants are just the worst. this shade of yellow looks like shit, doesn't fit with the rest of the colors (apart from maybe her eyes and part of the necklace, if you wanna stretch it) and those dumb patches just make her legs look busy/cluttered. so, I removed all the patches and made Luz's pants beige, similar to the ones she wore at the end of season 2 (that whole look was honestly really good, sad it was only used for a couple episodes).

oh and I also slightly tweaked her hair because it just looked weird to me. I dunno why, but both her slicked back hairstyle in s3 and the epilogue hairstlyle always looked off to me, and I can't quite put my finger onto why.

Amity:

I made a post on my sideblog a while back where I explained why I thought the hairstyle Amity had in the epilogue didn't really fit with how I interpreted her overall hair change over time. basically that whole post boiled down to:

Amity with a high ponytail/high bun/etc. – represents Amity under her mother's control (since Odalia has almost the same hairstyle)

Amity with her hair down or with a low ponytail/low bun/etc. – Amity is no longer doing what her mom says, she's making her own choices now

so seeing her go back to having a high ponytail in the epilogue just didn't sit right with me. and that's why I decided to give her a braid. since Willow cut her hair short and no longer has two braids, I thought it'd be nice to instead give a braid to Amity. I also wanted to try and make it a two-colored braid, since I didn't really know how else to incorporate her brown hair color to the hairstyle (I didn't want to just go for the simple "make one side of the hair purple and the other brown").

I liked how the Grom crystals were added into this design, I thought it was a pretty nice callback to the episode where the whole Grom dance happened, and so I kept them in my redesign as well – putting them as a part of a headband.

the remaining changes are super minor – I made her pants slightly longer, since them being knee-height looked kinda weird to me, and changed her earrings from these big, black (and kinda ugly lol) triangles to the ones she wore in "Reaching Out", so there would be a bit more yellow in the design to match Amity's eyes.

Willow:

this one doesn't have that much changed to it. I kinda wanted to do something with Willow's hair, but in the end decided against it, since I think her short hair, while looking a bit too simular to Luz's debut hairstyle, is still pretty cute.

I really liked the gold glasses she got in season 2, and so I made her glasses here gold as well. not only because I like them better, but also to make it match with her yellow top.

I see that they tried to do this whole asymmetrical thing with her legs – one leg has a knee pad and the other doesn't, one leg has a sock and the other, again, doesn't – and I'm not against it, but the fact that Willow only has one sock just looks off to me. so I gave her her second sock back, but made the other one yellow, to still kinda keep the asymmetry (and to, again, add more yellow to the design, so it wouldn't just be her top and bracelets).

...also slightly changed the main color of her shorts, because that shade of green looked ugly to me.

Gus:

(this one has even less changes than Willow lol)

my man just straight up lost all his blues

if you go to the owl house wiki and open the page with Gus' designs, you'll see that all of them have some shades of either blue or teal, and occasionally green in them (with the exception of his Halloween costume, that became his season 3 outfit, which is mostly pink-red). and since illusion coven's color is light blue, it makes sense to add the colors of his coven to Gus's outfits. but in the epilogue bro's just covered in yellows and browns, with the only blue being his pants. so that's the only thing I changed – made his vest and glasses blue, to return at least some of his illusion magic's color to him.

the outfit itself looks alright, he looks a lot like a teacher, which is what he is by the time of the epilogue (though it is weird that, despite being 16, he looks more like he's in his mid 20s lmao). I'm not entirely sure why he's suddenly wearing glasses here though, since I don't remember him ever mentioning having eyesight problems or even wearing contacts before (but maybe he did mention it and I just don't remember, I dunno), but eh, whatever. he looks alright with those, so I didn't remove them. but yeah, apart from the lack of blues in his outfit, Gus looks the best out of the main 5.

Hunter:

(had to enlargen his png with a random ai, idk why the one on the wiki is like 5 pixels large, who tf made it so small lmao)

yeah, so, uh, the obvious question here... why does Hunter look like Caleb again?

wasn't his whole thing supposed to be how he's not just another Grimwalker? not just another copy of Caleb? not just Caleb? isn't that's why he decided to cut his hair, and specifically his Caleb-like fringe, to not look like him (and to simultaneously not look like Belos)? he even looks at himself in the mirror at one point in TTT, before he gets possessed by Belos, and says "I like who I am now" or something like that, I don't remember the exact quote.

and then Hunter not only gets his Caleb Hair™ back, after Belos possesses him, but he also gets Caleb's brown eyes after Flapjack brings him back to life, now making Hunter look EXACTLY like Caleb! which, correct me if I'm wrong, isn't this exactly what Belos wanted? a perfect copy of Caleb??

at first I thought that by the time of the epilogue he'd cut his hair again or style it differently, to not look like "Caleb 2: electric boogaloo", and so I just tolerated how he looked in FTF and WAD, thinking "eh, alright, he obviously won't cut his hair again anywhere in these episodes, everyone's busy with making Boiling Isles normal again, it'll probably be somewhere at the very end of the show, when everything's good again". and then, lo and behold – he did not, in fact, cut his hair, and he's still just Caleb™...

cool

ignoring his hair – the design itself looks nice. I especially like the addition of Abomination, Illusion and Plants patches he sewn onto his apron, and, unlike Luz's pants patches, these actually work pretty well with the whole look, plus it's nice to see him add small things that represent his friends to his outfit (only one of Luz's patches represented anyone, which was Amity with that Abomination patch, and then it's just two random pictures that don't really represent anyone)

the main thing I wanted to change was his hair, just like with Amity. judging by this concept art it does seem like they wanted to give Hunter different hair, to not make him look like Caleb 2.0. (dunno why they decided against it though, that was pretty dumb of them).

so I basically just took the first hairstyle here and slapped it onto Hunter. apart from that, the only things I changed were that I made his sneakers pink (since his Grimwalker eyes were pink and I kinda thought I'd bring a bit of that color back here) and added some accessories to his arms – a glove on one hand and bandages on the other. I couldn't give him two gloves, since the right one would cover the Flapjack tattoo, so instead I put some bandages from splinters there (inspired by the same concept art where I traced the hair from).

-----

and that's it.

again, I didn't do anything with the timeskip designs of Eda, Lilith and Vee, because I think they generally look okay and I don't really have any ideas on how I'd change them. as for every other character's new looks – I really don't care that much about them lol. Camila and Boscha look good, King barely changed, so he's pretty good too, and everyone else I barely even remember.

#toh critical #toh #toh criticism #♤mizu.txt

[cosmic-kaden]

{ Clear skies and mudpies? }

Ship: Jude x Kaden

Words: 1,980 (You know, I'm not even sorry now <3)

cw: NONE!

Summary: A day at the beach led to something new and exciting

Note: revealing the new boyo via fic OR if anyone was nosey over the last four days you would have seen him on my carrd already oho! ;)

If you aren't a self-shipper plz dni. I have anxiety.

Warmth, clear skies, and sunshine. Today was the perfect day, a day where you didn't want to sit inside, a day where you wanted to be out in the world even if you didn't have a single thing to do that day. That was the day that Kaden was having. It was a beautiful day and Kaden was feeling particularly creative. So what better way to spend the afternoon than to go down to the beach, plop down at a picnic table and sketch.

Kaden always had an affinity for drawing nature or cityscapes more so than drawing actual people. It was calming and mixed with a beautiful day such as this, it truly made Kaden feel at peace. The wind was warm, the sunshine was bright, birds were chirping their songs and the sound of waves along the beach side was soothing.

All felt peaceful and right in the moment, that was until a small boy trailed up to them, he was holding a green bucket. He had brown hair and blue eyes. He held the bucket up to them and smiled. Kaden peered into the bucket to see nothing but water and sand, no doubt a clumpy clay-like mess at the bottom.

"Ya got some mud there?" Kaden chuckled a little awkwardly. Who was this kid?

The kid set the bucket down and grabbed a big glob full of wet sand. "Mudpie" He said looking between the sand and Kaden.

"Ah, just don't actually eat it 'kay?" Kaden whispered with a small laugh.

That happy expression soon turned to one of instant defeat when the child shlopped the so-called 'mudpie' directly onto their sketchbook and Kaden let out a small whine of horror. Kaden frowned, grabbing the corner of their book and lifting it, the page was completely ruined. Kaden was slowly chipping away at this beach scene for a while now.

"There you are!" A voice called and both Kaden and the little boys' attention turned towards the voice. Kaden was still in shock, eyes, wide. They knew the little boy meant nothing by it, he didn't understand."Sorry abou---" The man looked between Kaden on the bench and the completely destroyed notebook that they had held up in front of them. "Oh….Shit." He looked down at his son, swooping him into his arms.

"Did you do that?" He asked, pointing towards Kaden, Kaden was honestly sitting there dumbfounded. The little boy nodded, now knowing he may have done something wrong. He looked at Kaden shyly and let out a little "sorryyy"

Kaden snapped out of their shock and placed the book down. "I-It's fine…only been slowly working on that for the past….two weeks" The last part came out more like a small whine than anything.

"I'm so, so sorry about that, I turned for a second and he was out of my sight is there any way we can make it up to you?" The father asked, looking down at them.

Kaden looked at the table in front of them, sandy, wet mud splattered everywhere, their pens were covered, their bag was muddy, and their drink was knocked over as the liquid dripped through the slits of the picnic table and onto the concrete below.

"I dunno… It's… It's fine" Kaden breathed out, they were upset clearly but they also knew that it was just a little kid doing what kids do. It was an honest mistake so Kaden couldn't really be angry. They stood to their feet grabbing their bag and grimaced when they noticed not only the muddy sand but also the drink they had also managed to get on it a bit.

"No, it's not fine. Are you an artist?" He asked and Kaden chuckled, shaking their head.

"I do it as a hobby but I don't classify myself as an artist..but it is one of the greater joys I have."

"Then we need to make it up to you. I'm Jude" He spoke softly, placing his son down onto his feet before extending his hand out towards Kaden.

"Kaden. Nice? Nice to meet you?" Kaden chuckled softly, taking his hand and shaking it gently before letting it go. "These circumstances aren't the greatest but yeah, nice to meet you."

Jude chuckled softly. "If you're okay with it, we'd like to take you to whatever the nearest art supply store is. So we can replace whatever got ruined." Jude smiled sweetly.

Jude really did feel bad that he not only let his son out of his sight but that in that small period, his son had managed to ruin someone's belongings and he was determined to make it up to them.

"You really don't have to do that." Kaden chuckled nervously. They were never really the greatest when it came to others wanting to get them things even if it was only to replace what was ruined, hell Kaden had a hard time accepting gifts from friends and family half the time.

"I insist." Jude frowned. "Please… Let us." He offered them a small smile and Kaden smiled in return and shook their head.

"O-Okay…okay, sure." Kaden shrugged their shoulders.

Jude smiled sweetly. He emptied out the sandy bucket and crammed it into the large backpack he was wearing, no doubt full of toys and the like. He scooped his son back into his arms and started to walk alongside Kaden.

"You're gonna have to lead the way okay? I have no idea where any shops like that are." He chuckled softly.

"Okay.." Kaden mumbled. Ah, it felt a little awkward, Kaden never really knew how to talk to people, and it was even worse when Kaden found them attractive and to Kaden, Jude was an exceptionally handsome man. They hated how their mind always went blank on things to say. They were never the greatest at small talk.

"So aside from drawing, what else do you do?" Jude asked.

Thank the gods, he was leading the conversations because Kaden was horrid at it. "Oh, nothing super interesting… I'm a materials handler- basically, I get lists of stuff and I go pluck it out of boxes in a warehouse. Nothing too special" Kaden chuckled awkwardly. "What about you?"

"I'm an engineer" He too chuckled softly.

"Wow, I'm so glad I said mine first." Kaden chuckled softly. "Mine seems boring in comparison"

"Trust me, mine isn't as fun either. I'd take glorified grocery shopping over my job any day" he grinned

Kaden let out a snort of laughter "Glorified grocery shopping, I need to remember that."

They made their way to a small little art store nestled away in a small corner off one of the main roads, tucked away in the heart of the borough. As they walked they talked pretty much the whole way there, what they did, what they liked, the weather, you name it and Kaden was slowly starting to feel less awkward by the second.

The art store had a weathered sign that swung lazily in the breeze. Inside, shelves overflow with colourful paints, brushes of all sizes, and sketchpads waiting to create the next masterpiece. The scent of linseed oil lingered in the air.

Kaden walked in and looked around the shop, the employee there asked if they needed any help and Kaden asked where the sketchbooks were. Jude was soon following after.

"Down~?" Jude's son asked and Jude shook his head "Absolutely not, you caused mass destruction with a bucket of sand, I don't want to see what you can do with paint" He chuckled which earned a smile from Kaden who was browsing the sketchbooks in front of him.

"you can get whatever one you want by the way." Jude hummed softly.

Kaden raised a brow. "Well I'm going to get the cheapest one because I'm not into making strangers spend a lot of money on me" they grinned, squatting down to grab a small little sketch book off the shelf it was about notebook sized and the book was wrapped in leather. "This one will do." Kaden hummed, standing to their feet and handing it over to Jude.

"Did anything else get ruined? I think I seen you tossing out some pens." Jude tilted his head a little quizzically as he held the book.

"book~!" His son cooed, trying to grab it to which Jude switched hands, holding the book down and away from his son. "Not your book~" Jude drew his attention to his son and cooed at him playfully.

"Those were just dollar store-bought pens, not a big deal. I can easily get more." Kaden nodded their head.

"Your canvas bag?" Jude smirked and Kaden shook their head.

"That can be washed~! I'm definitely not having someone I hardly know buy a brand-new bag for me, I'd die on the inside. Plus I would have to make it up to you because they're expensive! Especially here- So you making it up to me would actually make me want to make it up to you and that's confusing!" Kaden laughed softly.

Despite Kaden saying that it was okay, that he didn't need to do anything else for them he smirked and trailed over to the bags that hung on the wall. He looked between Kaden's bag and the ones on the shelf.

"Really it's fine!" Kaden protested, a small laugh leaving them.

"mhhm.." He hummed, plucking a bag from the shelf that was nearly identical to the one Kaden was wearing just less muddy and worn out.

Jude trailed up to the cashier and Kaden huffed in defeat. "Seriously?" Kaden pouted, He was stubborn! They were of course appreciative that he was willing to help them out but Kaden thought it was too much to be spending on someone he didn't even know. Kaden fiddled with the price tags on a random shelf as he paid for the purchases.

He looked over to Kaden and was soon trailing out of the store, Kaden soon following after. Once they got outside he handed their new bag to them and Kaden sighed. "You really didn't have to but…" Kaden's eyes flicked up to his and they smiled sweetly. "Thank-you"

"No problem~ It was the least I could do. I put your sketchbook in your bag for you. We got to head out now but it was really nice meeting you despite all the mud and sand and…yeah" Jude laughed softly.

"Nice to meet you too."

"See ya~" Jude smiled and turned on his heel, walking away with his son still in his arms.

Kaden sighed, looking down at their new bag before putting it on. They flipped the top flap open and unzipped the bag, their hand reaching in to grab their new sketchpad. They were going to have to do some rearranging Kaden took everything out of their old bag and placed it in the new one, making sure not to mess up the newly acquired bag before heading home.

Once Kaden got home they kicked their shoes off and set their bag down on the kitchen table before taking a seat. They stared at the bag and the events that unfolded that day, they couldn't help but think of Jude, he was rather cute and very sweet. Kaden reached for their bag and grabbed their newly bought sketchbook. They opened it up to see a message inside, they tilted their head as they read it.

'Sorry about your stuff! you said if I got the bag you'd want to make it up so…if you ever want to make it up, here's my number: [phone]. Happy sketching - Jude'

Kaden's eyes went wide as they blinked down at the page, they were shocked and yet a wave of excitement washed over them, they could feel a small blush creep up to their face and a small smile tugged to their lips. What an exciting day…

Tag List: I WILL apologize for tagging ya'll because I literally prefer writing over doing actual art now ngl LMFAO SO SORRY this all you get outta me now AHHHHHHHHHHH \O/

@ama-ships || @heatobrienswife || @kylars-princess || @lysandreslittlechatot || @dragonsmooch

#It's the new boyo~ <3 #Who has been here for roughly four days already! I DID GOOD KEEPING MY LIP ZIPPED LMFAO but I can't contain myself anymore lkflsdf #[cries] P-Protective dad Jude we love him T_T #Jude 💞 #ok 2 rb #I think I'm fallin'

[sa1808fi]

Okay, so here's the thing

A headcanon of mine is that Emmet has brown eyes.

Why?

Emmet is described throughout the first movie as extremely generic, and because of this he was continuously demeaned and insulted because of his 'generic' nature. He was so generic and hard to distinguish from the crowd to the point that even Lord Businesses systems had trouble finding him because of his generic features. Now, this could be easily translated to him having brown eyes, as that is a very 'generic' eye color.

I think that after he finds the Piece of Resistance, and gets his visions, he starts to develop a more reddish tinge to his eyes, as a small side effect of the magic, and being able to see into the realm of the man upstairs.

Now other than this, I also happen to headcanon Rex having green eyes, like a bright green that's similar to the color of the R on his vest.

I want that to be his actual eye color, not him using contacts, no no no. and you may think 'Oh well Emmet has brown eyes, how would Rex have green??'

HAHAHAAH

I have ideas

Uh, I have seen some art in which people draw Emmet with green eyes, and while that would be a cool thing to relate him with Rex, I think that it really would not work for the 'generic' appearance that revolves around him for the first movie.

But yeah, my headcanon is that the change in his eye color was half intentional, half unintentional.

I think that with all of the time travel he's been doing, and the new exposure to master breaking, these things did affect him physically, but edging more on the unintentional side.

Like, you're bending space and time, you're bound to change a little bit.

For the intentional part, I'm still not entirely sure how he would go about doing it, but I think he would do it purely as a way to further set himself apart from his past self. Maybe using weird science and all to do it.

Actually, there's this one post that I think matches pretty well with what I'm going for

https://www.tumblr.com/shaampoo/719196392185315328/screw-it-im-headcannoning-that-emmet-had-reddish

I think that the idea of red and green being complementary colors, with the red representing Emmets naivety to some things in the world (The red being him looking at the world with rose-tinted glasses), and Rex (The green being completely opposite to red) being hyperaware of the things that happen around him, and thinking the worst of things first compared to Emmet.

I mean this headcanon mostly started out as a design choice, and then it turned it this.

Might add more later I dunno

#rex dangervest #emmet brickowski #the lego movie #the lego movie 2 #Does this answer thy question #:) #was planning on posting this eventually #uh #the technicalities more or less came after the #'green eyes cool' part #just me tryin to organize my thoughts over here #it began as a design choice #and it turned into this #take the content #saffi's rambles #saffi's headcanons #lego movie #lego movie 2 #lego movie au

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

How does hair color work in the legacyverse? We see normal hair colors seen in real life with the Ninja, but we also see there's a colorful variety of hair color too. Harumi has white hair, Jesse has dark-pinkish hair, Skylor has red hair.... etc What hair colors are considered common? What are considered uncommon?

In the beginning times hair color was fully connected to the elements like eyes are (for example, my attempted connection of pure red hair with Amber, and the reddish-orangish tint with Speed ) buuut that idea obviously fell apart quickly haha.

It’s generally just dependent on parental/family genes, and hair color is one of the most complicated traits to “predict” at a genetic level anyway due to the sheer amount of varying factors that go into it. Sure, Lloyd is blonde, but if it’s a (generally) recessive trait in both his parents then yeah it’s not a horrendously outlandish thing to occur in him, just highly unlikely (…but Lloyd is a highly unlikely individual anyway so whatever). Similar with Harumi.

I’d say in terms of rarity, black/brunettes/blondes are pretty common, while almost-white and pure red are much less common but certainly not impossible.

And then, we have some cases where an element does have an effect on the master -> not sure how many people picked up on this, but Jesse’s family is full of brunettes. Compare his hair color to Miranda’s—hers is much more explicitly brown, yet his hair is pinker/more of a burgundy color (which ofc Cam inherits for herself). In early drawings of Jesse he used to have a bit of an undercut, and that undercut was colored closer to what his “natural” color should be. But now his hair is just full of magic like the rest of him~

And then there’s Tox too, who…had a lot of things turn lime green on her when she inherited her element. Similar to Nya Post-Seabound shenanigans; vibing with the idea that some of the blue stays in her hair hnggg

And then there’s people who’ve dyed their hair to some degree (Bridget, Sally, potentially Libber if I’m feeling spicy)

…And I dunno what’s going on with Sunni’s hair lmao (but it’d probably make more sense if I ever get around to drawing her non-important but still interesting siblings)

#info tag #legacyverse #ninjago #elemental compendium

[dzamie-oc]

Voretober 29 - Hazard

Length: 1900 words Vore type: M/M, oral vore Fandom: None Other info: willing prey, feral snake pred, implied digestion Summary: A snake tries to nap on a golf course, and, somehow, gets a meal out of it.

Ssint wiggled his long, sinuous body, burying himself just a bit deeper in the sand. He had been hesitant to leave the safety of the woods, but the pit of sand, located fortuitously amid an otherwise uniform space of gentle, rolling green hills, was a warm and welcome change from the cool shade of the surrounding forest. And luckily, neither hungry harpy willing to risk their life nor passing dragon appeared in the sky as he'd made his move. He flicked his tongue out; his surroundings were strangely sterile of rodents and birds, but the scent of humans and their ilk was thick, along with metal. Of no matter; Ssint would simply have to stay aware of their movements.

…well, somewhat aware. He was pretty well-hidden, he had to admit, his golden-brown hide against the yellow-white sand. And with the pleasant heat, it was sorely tempting to nap so soon on finding his new spot. The serpent yawned, stretching his jaws and setting his lower ones back into place against each other-

Before he could finish closing them, something small and hard flew directly into his throat, its speed forcing it easily a foot deep. Ssint drew his head back - partly from the blow, but also in panic. Was he under attack? Was that just a small, very stupid bird? His forked tongue shot out again, wiggling up and down, as he tasted for any useful differences. In his mouth, a somewhat grassy taste had appeared, likely with the strange object. And the scent of humans - no, human and catfolk - grew stronger.

Ssint lowered his head when he realized what that meant; unfortunately, he did so right as an orange, striped cat lady appeared over the hill, along with a human man in strange, checker-patterned attire. The tiger pointed at him, and with growing dread, Ssint watched as they approached.

They stopped at the border to the sandy area, and from his hiding-place just barely covered by the sand, Ssint saw that the tiger, rather than being nude, wore a dress patterned like her fur would be, and the human wielded a thin, metal club. Did he intend to use that on him? He could only catch snippets of their whispered conversation:

"Just … two stroke …" the catfolk led.

"Nonsense … need to find … hidden."

"Do you not see the snake?!" she hissed, louder than the rest.

"Oh … idea," the human whispered back before taking a step forward. In a more audible voice, he addressed Ssint. "Excuse me, my good snake. Did you happen to see where my ball landed? It flew this way, but I lost sight of it over the green."

Ssint briefly debated pretending he didn't hear them, or that he didn't exist, but they definitely knew he was there. So, he raised his head out of the sand, shaking the grains off. "Er, I don't think so? What did it look like?"

The man held the fingers in his free hand apart a small amount - a similar size to the thing that had intruded on his throat. "It would've been about this big, white, covered in dimples. Going moderately quick, if I may toot my own horn."

"Hard to the touch?"

The tiger stared at her companion in disbelief. "You hit him?!" she said, exasperated.

"It's not like I was aiming for the sand trap!" he replied. This seemed to mollify her as he turned back to Ssint. "Er, yes. I'm terribly sorry; I hope I didn't strike anything vital?"

"Not… really?" The snake undulated his body, this time ascending from his hiding place; the tiger's eyes widened, and she took a step back. He gestured with the tip of his tail to a spot just before his stomach. "It went pretty directly down my throat, feels like it's around here."

"…I don't suppose you could give it back?" the man asked.

The catfolk tugged at his arm. "Just drop a new one and take the penalty! Before this snake… I dunno, but he's big!"

Ssint shook his head. "The ball's not big enough."

"C'mon, Rin, you know I always play it where it lies if possible," he remarked to the tiger, then addressed Ssint again, "could I follow it down and try to knock it out from there?"

Ssint looked him over. He'd eaten bigger without problem. But… "Disgorging meals is pretty uncomfortable, and really time-consuming to do safely, and I suspect miss… Rin? would want me to do that for you. So I'd rather not."

"I could treat you to a bigger meal after," the man said, at the same time Rin replied, "no, you can keep him."

This startled both Ssint and the man, but the tiger ignored the snake and stared her friend back down with a level gaze. "I still want to go to the party after this. So, Ter, mister "the recall ball is too expensive," you can either take the penalty strokes or pay for a rez, because I'm not waiting for you to go in and out of a giant snake just for the possibility of saving one stroke on a game we're playing for fun." Her tail lashed behind her, and Ssint swore she started to bear her fangs more as she continued.

Ter pulled a watch from his pocket, then nodded. "Rin, you're absolutely right. You did say you wanted to finish up for that, and I lost track of time. Though, er, could we pick this game up another day, maybe even tomorrow?"

Rin brightened. "Yes! Great! Good idea, let's just start on this hole next time, and-"

"Wonderful!" The man handed Rin the metal club, hopped down into the sandy pit, and approached Ssint's head. "Mind if I get my head and hands in last? I figure I'll have to do this like billiards." He lifted one foot out of his shoes and held it out to the snake.

"What?!" Rin shouted in disbelief. Ssint, operating largely on automatic instinct, swirled around Ter and lifted him in a couple powerful coils. It wasn't until he had the man all but immobilized and inches from his jaws that he paused and looked at the two. Ter, looking over Ssint's coils, nodded. Rin, however, had one hand against her face. "Rilla's whiskers… fine. Be my guest."

Ssint opened wide and guided the man's feet and ankles directly into his throat. He tasted of sand and sweat and cotton, or at least his clothes did. It was an odd experience. Not from the taste - a number of other humans, and even an elf once, had wandered from the grassy area into the forest, and from there into Ssint's jaws - but from his utter lack of struggling even while he still breathed. Or, near lack of struggling, but even still, Ter only pulled at his arms; his spine and legs stayed relatively very still. Ssint worked his jaws further up the human's legs, his lower jaw stretching to accommodate the growing thickness.

"Uh, good snake, would you mind freeing my arms? I'd like them over my head," Ter requested. For any fighting prey, Ssint would have immediately squeezed him harder, possibly even crushing the bones in his arms and ribs. But Ter… wanted to be eaten, for some reason. Another swallow carried his snout up to Ter's hips. The snake loosened his grip, before his own throat pulled the human's hands in and trapped them there.

The man yanked one arm up, then the other, and struggled no more. His rear slid easily past the snake's jaws, and just like that, Ssint had over half of him. The snake unwound all but one loop around Ter's upper arms, and ate faster; he was confident he was safe, but that was no reason to dawdle when there was food to be had. More and more of his scales stretched to allow his meal's body deeper, and Ter wore a flesh lined, yellow-scaled suit up to his chest, then his neck. Ssint freed his arms from the last loop, and confined much more of him in his gullet.

As the taste of Ter's hair laid across Ssint's tongue, the human called out to Rin, "pass me the club, would you? Don't think I can grab it from inside." The tiger passed him the tool, and his next words were for Ssint, "swallow away, good snake! But, if you wouldn't mind keeping your body straight and mouth open, that would make things easier."

Arms, of course, were not that difficult to swallow, nor the even thinner club; as the metal slid into the snake's throat, Ssint took the time to readjust his lower jaw once again. And then, with a final swallow, the outside world couldn't see the man or his club, except for as a lumpy bulge in his neck, and soon his stomach. Intentionally or not, Rin verified this fact by peering into Ssint's still-open mouth. "Yep, there he goes. Silly man."

She stood and stretched, then walked over to where Ter had stopped moving deeper. With a curled finger, so as not to scratch him, she prodded the snake's thickened gut. "This is beyond stupid, I hope you know."

"Ah-hah!" Ter exlaimed, albeit muffled by the layers of muscle, scale, and fat around him. Ssint felt him move around inside - again, it wasn't strange for struggles to be weak, but it was odd for them to not be struggles. After another brief moment of stillness, the human-turned-meal jolted; a second later, the strange, hard object from earlier flew from Ssint's jaws. Or, well, rolled gently. It quickly picked up sand, rolled downhill, and came to a stop against Ssint's tail, near one side of the pit.

Rin carefully stepped over the human-sized lump of scales and stared at the ball. Ssint watched her. After a couple seconds, she leapt to the grassy edge in one bound, then turned to face the snake. "Oh, a word of advice: don't rest in these. Nice as they may seem, enough golfers are bad enough that you'll get walked on a lot."

"Oh, really?" Ssint gathered his body out of the sand a bit more, when an idea struck him. "By the way, Rin, would you like to join your friend?"

"Hm?"

"Well, I know you don't want to waste time, but I have room in my stomach, and wonder if you'd like to spend an hour or two digesting."

The tiger lady snickered, then burst out laughing. Infectious as it was, Ssint joined in, too, giggling at his own joke. Once she'd recovered, Rin stood up and wiped a tear from her eye. "Man, I must be tired if that one gets me. But no, snake, I'll let Ter spend that time on his own. See you tomorrow - or not, if you wind up not staying there."

As she walked away, Ssint looked over to the tree line. If what she said was true, it would be worth it to head back… but he was also weighed down by a human who was growing increasingly fidgety as his stomach acids started to seep into his skin. So, with a series of wiggles, Ssint gradually buried himself again, and resolved to move… later.

#v/ore #v.ore #vorefic #voretober #snake #reptiles #snake pred #feral pred #human #human prey #furry #anthro #furry cat #furry tiger #digestion #willing prey #text #writing #writers on tumblr

[quibbs126]

this is the opposite of a kid request lmao, but i figured i'd ask anyway… so i headcanon energy drink cookie as soda cookie's older sibling? (they're both fizzy, caffeinated beverages, and i love both characters individually… seemed to fit. i dunno.) so my request is what would their parent(s) be like?

Finally got them done, this is Americano Cookie and Fruit Punch Cookie

I’m not entirely sure how to format these fan parent pages yet, but this is what I’m going with for now

Alright, character time. So starting with Fruit Punch, she runs a beachside juice bar, and she’s an extroverted and energetic person who just wants to have a good time. Her husband Americano on the other hand is a businessman who works out in the city. He’s a fairly serious and uptight person, and has trouble unwinding and not being in his business mindset. He’s fairly nice, he’s just bad at letting loose

They met when one day Americano’s coworkers dragged him to Fruit Punch’s bar. Americano likes her because of her fun loving personality and that she’s an incredibly confident lady, and Fruit Punch likes him because he’s a sweet guy, and also she finds it fun trying to pry him out of his shell

Also Americano now likes to wear more colorful ties as some sort of expression of creativity, and because of Fruit Punch’s influence on him

Alright, now for their names. So basically, Americano is supposed to be the caffeine and water (assuming Soda is soda water), and Fruit Punch is supposed to be the fizzy, sugar and the flavor

Americano and fruit punch:

So yeah, I’m aware of the fact that red and brown do not make blue and green, but shush, maybe it’s recessive genes. Also I wasn’t going to not make these two the colors of their drinks. But I tried to at least have some blue and green in their designs and eyes

There’s not much to say about their designs really, I just made Fruit Punch look like she lives on the beach and Americano like he’s a business person

I gave Fruit Punch the bubble pattern as a reference to them being drinks, and also because I didn’t want to draw a bunch of flowers for a flower print shirt

Also I think I had originally planned for one of them to have lighter skin while the other has darker, but coffee Cookies usually have darker dough, with the only lighter ones being the ones with milk, and Fruit Punch kind of has an afro going on, so I just kept their dough colors dark

I gave Americano his yellow accents because some pictures of americano I’ve seen have

But overall I quite like their designs, I think they look good

And yeah, that about wraps things up for my first fan parent request, I hope you like them!

#cookie run #cookie run oc #soda cookie #energy drink cookie #americano cookie #fruit punch cookie #fan parents #my ocs #my art #requests #answers