#meant to draw him more positive but I ended up liking this expression so I kept it

[one-rabbit-every-day]

21.3.

80 - dark

#one rabbit a day #21.3. #80 #he walk #meant to draw him more positive but I ended up liking this expression so I kept it #hehe ♡

[kelstey]

Deja Vu

mattheo riddle x reader

warnings : smut

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

your back slammed against the wall, mattheo's body pressed up to the front of you as the two of you eagerly made out. you weren't meant to be in this position, but the two of you couldn't seem to get enough of each other.

his hand clung to your waist tightly, his lips hungrily kissing down your jaw then down your neck. he was bound to leave marks that everyone would see for the next few days.

"mattheo," you moaned out.

"yes?" he looked up at you as he pressed kisses down the valley between your breasts.

"we shouldn't be doing this," you said, it was a lie. you most definitely should be doing this. you needed him so bad. the two of you had broken up a few months prior - it was toxic.

there were too many arguments over the smallest and petty things. the two of you eventually had enough of each other and ended things, but the feelings were very much still there - unbeknownst to your friends that you would sneak out most nights to meet mattheo.

they'd be so disappointed if they knew that you were busy getting your brains fucked out every night and not just 'going on a walk to clear your head'.

"if you don't want this, then why are you so soaked for me, hmm?" mattheo's fingers teased you through your skirt.

"shut up," a smile broke onto your face as he smirked at your reaction.

he knew you couldn't get enough of him - no matter how many times you said you hated him. you both knew you both loved each other, and likely always would.

it only made the breakup harder to get over whenever you were having sex with another guy. turns out moaning out your exes name during sex was not the best idea.

you didn't mean to, it simply slipped out. how else were you meant to finish with the thought of somebody else? even fucking others boys wasn't that good. they never filled you or stretched you the way mattheo did.

they didn't know your body the way mattheo did. your sweet spots, the way you love your hair getting pulled, the mix of degradation and praise.

the way that you loved the feeling of getting choked - especially in missionary which mattheo always loved as he always thought it was more intimate.

that and the way he could watch each singular expression on your face as he cause you multiple orgasms within minutes of each other. you would be physically unable to walk for hours - even sometimes days afterwards.

"i need you so bad," mattheo lifted your body and placed you down onto his bed. the only other bed you ever felt safe in.

mattheo took your bra off with one hand, something he had perfected with you. without a second to spare his mouth enclosed itself around one of your nipples, and a hand toying around with the other just the way you like it.

you threw your head back onto the pillow, the way he could satisfy you without always penetrating you was endearing.

"stop teasing," you moaned.

"i thought you loved it when i did that?" mattheo peppered kisses down your stomach, stopping just above your skirt.

"i do but i need your dick in me right fucking now," mattheo obliged happily - whatever you asked, you received.

within seconds he slid himself into, despite the million times you've had sex with him - you could never fully get used to his large size. he was always slow at first as he slid in and out of you, making sure to tease you and have you begging for more.

then he'd work up his pace, his mouth reattaching back onto your nipple, the other hand around your neck as you turned into a moaning, whimpering mess underneath him.

the sounds of you alone made him cum. he would often get himself off to the beautiful sound of you screaming his name when he was alone. the thought of simply your face could get him off too.

"gonna be a good girl for me and cum around my cock?" mattheo panted as he felt himself draw closer to finishing. "look at you, covered in my hickies. only i can give you them, no one else. i want everyone to know you're mine."

-

"no fucking way," pansy's jaw nearly dropped, you looked up at her as you were eating.

"what?" you asked.

"mattheo and cho? what an unusual pairing," you felt your heart break into pieces, mattheo? the same one who was saying he loved you a couple days ago?

"what do you mean?" you looked around the hall and your eyes fell upon the pair. he was sat a couple rows down at your table, cho sat on his lap. you watched as he played with her hair, a hand on her thigh as he spoke to his friends. the same way he used to do with you.

"do you want to leave? i think the breakfast i just ate is away to come back up," pansy lightly laughed, unsure of how to react to you. she wasn't sure wether you were about to explode with laughter, heartbreak or anger.

"yeah let's," you quickly got up from the table and left with pansy by your side.

mattheo's eyes fell onto you as you left the hall, had you seen him? he was desperate to get your attention despite having a whole other girl on his lap.

you had his still fresh hickies on your body - but he was already with another girl. was he playing some sort of sick joke? who does that?

-

you sat on draco's lap, giving him a kiss on the cheek as he spoke away to blaise. "hey baby," you smiled at him.

"hey babe," he smiled back at you, you couldn't help but internally cringe as you pretended to be coupled up with draco.

he was there when you spotted mattheo with cho on his lap, he quickly ran after you and made a deal. he had been wanting some other slytherin girl's attention, and thought it would be an amazing idea if you two pretended to date.

you could make mattheo mad, and draco could then possibly try get with his girl. you were more than happy - belated at the proposal. except for the fact you had to be all lovey dovey with draco.

he was hot to say the least, but 'dating' someone you always thought of as a friend was slightly weird. but it wasn't unexpected as the two of you had your moments where you flirted - only innocently, of course.

draco's hand was on your thigh as you joined in the conversation between him and blaise, some random stuff as usual. you heard someone walk into the room - not even bothering to look as you could already smell the scent of vanilla, cigarettes and a slight woody smell.

mattheo riddle.

he cleared his throat, coughing. this caught the attention of the three of you, all turning around in unison to look at the boy. his fists were clenched at his side, eyes burning into both you and draco.

"didnt know you and malfoy were a thing now," mattheo's words seemed harsh - wether he meant them to be or not.

"nothing official," you flashed mattheo a fake smile.

"yeah, right," he said before sitting down on the sofa opposite the two of you. his eyes didn't leave you once, well, mainly draco's pale hand that was placed extremely highly on your thigh.

"something wrong, riddle?" you tilted your head to the side as you noticed his eyes focused on draco's hand.

"fine," he spat out.

"well, my dorm?" draco asked you and you nodded, wanting to escape the high-tension situation. you got up and fixed your skirt as draco also got up.

draco placed his hand on your lower back, walking you out of the common room. you looked back to see mattheo's eyes burning holes into the back of you. you turned back around, smirking at yourself.

"you think it's working?" you asked draco.

"is that even a question? he looked like he was away to cave my head in," draco sat on the edge of his bed, his arms supporting him. was it bad to say he looked incredibly hot? his school shirt was rolled up just above his elbows, revealing his veins.

"you know what i think would piss him off even more?" you walked over to draco, standing between his legs.

"what's that?" he smirked.

"if we fucked," you placed your fingers underneath his chin, making him look up at you. his hands travelled up the side of your thighs, then stopping at your hips.

"you don't need to tell me twice."

-

draco malfoy was a better shag than you originally thought. he pleased you in all sorts of ways - switching between being submissive and letting you ride him to dominate where he pounded any remaining dignity you had left, out of you.

you told him not to be shy on leaving hickies and any sort of marks. he didn't take that lightly either.

"draco are you fucking joking me?! i cant even cover half of these!" you scolded him, your fingers went over the sensitive purple on your neck.

"you told me to not be shy," he shrugged as he slipped back into his uniform.

you rolled your eyes, "draco where are my tights?" you panicked. you nearly flipped his whole room upside down trying to find any sign of the thin black material. you pulled your skirt up from the back of your thighs, spotting the dark red hand marks draco left.

"i didn't even realise you had that in you," you turned around to draco, referring to the large hand marks.

"you wanted to make him jealous," he said.

"jealous, yes, not to murder me or you! he's gonna go apeshit when he sees these!" you said.

"isn't that part of the plan?" draco looked at you confused.

"i suppose. come on now, there's gonna be hardly any food left for dinner," you said and the two of you made your way down to the great hall.

all eyes on you was an understatement. the hall quickly went quiet when you and draco walked in. the two of you still both slightly flushed in the face, the love bites very much visible on your neck.

theodore whistled, "didn't know you had that in you malfoy."

"y/n said the same exact thing," draco smirked and you lightly smacked his arm. "what? i'm not lying."

"shut your gob, i've already had enough of everyone staring," you said before digging into your food. you looked up across the large table, mattheo.

his eyes were on you. did he really just spend his whole time staring at you whenever possible? you put your head back down, awkwardly rubbing your neck.

"round 2 later?" draco smirked.

"don't even think about it, malfoy," a voice said and you looked up. mattheo?? again??

"you're not the boss of me," you snapped back. E

you could see the rage in mattheo's eyes. "we need to talk."

you looked at draco for approval, he nodded and you got up. you and mattheo walked out of the hall, he walked in front of you, well more so sped walked.

"slow down!" you tried to catch up to him.

"what are you doing to me?" he turned around and stopped in his tracks.

"i'm not doing anything," you said.

"yes you are! you're killing me y/n! do you know how it feels to see the girl i'm in love with walk in half an hour late to dinner, clearly having have just shagged the one and only malfoy?!" he took a step closer to you.

you gulped, unsure what to say. his closeness was also killing you. "i didn't think you'd care."

"why wouldn't i?" mattheos eyes softened as he spoke.

"why would you?! you were the one with cho's tongue half way down your throat just two days after we fucked! i know we're broken up but do you really think i don't still have feelings for you? i know you're smarter than that, riddle."

"i was only doing it for a reaction from you! clearly i got one but never did i think you would go and shag malfoy!"

"are you joking me? are we in primary or something? why would you even do that?!"

"i don't know! i thought it was a good idea and i wanted to move on from you - i couldn't just keep hooking up with you and pretend i'm not absolutely in love with you!"

"you're a fucking idiot, mattheo. i know you're a bit stupid but really!" you rubbed your temple.

"i'm sorry, okay? i just wanted you to show you cared but now that i look back i realise it was childish. i really do love you, y/n. i always will," mattheo's face was a mere few inches away from yours.

"i'll never understand you, you know that?" you let out a small giggle.

"oh i know. you're the only one who can put up with me anyways. i missed you, cho was a shit kissed," mattheo said.

"i don't really wanna hear about you kissing another girl right now," you said.

"well i also really don't want to see you with another guys hickies all over your necks but here we are," you rolled your eyes.

"i hate you," you held back a smile.

"i love you too. now let me show you how it truly feels to be fucked."

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

#mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys #slytherin #fanfic #harry potter imagine #mattheo smut #mattheoriddlesmut

[illicitlimerence-writes]

game on | m. verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reader word count: 1.5k words request: nope.warnings: this is just porn. i tried to give it a little plot at the end but it's all just smut. 18+ only, minors dni. it's also badly written and not proofread so yeah a/n: i've been reading a lot of hotd smut fics for like a week and i guess this was inspired by them lmao. it's shit i know but it was an itch i had to scratch

my masterlist 

(dear lord, i want him so bad)

the touch of a hand. the discovery of the shape of his lips. learning what makes her tremble. 

none of her previous lovers could ever compare to what max made her feel. their connection was out of this world, something one only read about in books. it was magical, the way only they only had to share one touch, one look, and they knew what the other meant, what they wanted. 

max loved her eyes. they were expressive and as much as she tried to hide her true reactions to the rest of the world, he only had to watch her for a few seconds to know what she was actually thinking. 

he especially loved watching her eyes when they were being intimate. how the tears welled up as she tried to follow his instructions and just resist the urge to snap. how they'd widen in surprise whenever he first entered her, whether with his fingers, tongue or cock. she'd always roll her eyes back when he changed his pace to reach her g spot. 

he always made sure to love every inch of her, starting with her face and cheeks, he loved how he could feel the heat rushing there, blood running fast. then he moved down to her neck, leaving small lovemarks all over.

her chest would heave, moving up and down with every shallow breath she took. the way she curled her fingers on his hair only spurred him on, encouraging to continue his way down her body. 

slowly, he'd raise a finger and play with her nipples, biting his lower lip as he felt them harden beneath his touch. his mouth would follow his hands, wet tongue ready to stimulate as much as she'd allow. 

he'd look up, watching her brows furrowed in a perfect frown. mouth slightly agape as soundless breaths left her lungs. even after years of sex together, she was still as sensitive as the very first time. 

he continued his journey down her body, reaching her warm, wet cunt, he looked up again, seeing her already looking down at him. with a pillow beneath her hips, something max always insisted on having to help with her comfort, it was easier to watch his hungry eyes roam her most intimate spot. 

his mouth watered at the sight, he hadn't even touched her there yet and she was already ready for him. his fingers touched the sensitive skin of her thighs, big, strong hands holding her delicately. she whimpered, so ready for him it was almost torture. the pad of his finger met her clit, carefully drawing circles on her bud. his eyes flew to her face, hair resting all over the white sheets, her chest still carrying the evidence from his previous attack. 

"so beautiful," he whispered, removing his finger to replace it with his tongue. 

he could die between her legs, with his face buried deep between her folds and tongue inside of her. what a heavenly way to die.

but he still had a job to finish, he could think about dying later, first, he had to make her cum in a way she’d never forget. 

fastening the pace of his fingers on her clit, he drank all of her wetness, a sweet nectar that fueled him even more. he moved his mouth and fingers, switching their position so his mouth was on her bundle of nerves and his fingers entered her, slowly at first, two at once, as she was so ready and prepared for him. 

she let out a soundless gasp, closing her eyes as she breathed in sharply. but max curled his fingers in that way only he knew how, making her arch her back and look up at him, the desperate look on her face made a shiver go down his spine. 

"please, i want you," she whispered, voice barely audible, "need you, max," she begged, her voice mixing with the obscene sounds of him worshiping her cunt. 

"hmm, are you sure you're ready for me?" he said as he sat up, fingers still buried inside her clenching walls, so tight, he couldn't wait to feel her around his cock. 

"stop. fucking. teasing." she said, rocking her hips, chasing friction. he smirked, free hand slapping slightly the skin of her inner thighs. 

“you didn’t answer my question,” he said, moving so his face was on top of hers. he moved his fingers in and out, a slow torture that made her shut her eyes, a frown on her face and a whine escaping her lips.

“i want you. i’ve been ready for you since you kissed me after your podium,” she whispered, feeling as he moved her hair away from her face and neck, the sweaty skin causing it to stick there. 

the moments blurred together as she felt him entering, their lips met, foreheads touched as they both moaned and groaned, the electricity between them was almost palpable, the air was thick and they were the only people that existed in that moment. 

her walls around him felt heavenly, clenching every so often as he changed speed or position, which made blood rush to his brain and his cock, getting even harder. it was like a chain reaction, she made a noise or a certain movement, and it caused a reaction from max, which in turn made him roll his hips, grip her thighs or kiss the sweet spot on her neck. 

sex with max was a religious experience. she could never get tired of it, no matter how many nights they spent together. he always managed to make her feel loved, desired, wanted. he knew exactly what she needed, even when she didn’t know it herself. he wasn’t afraid to try new things and explore the limits of her pleasure. everything with her consent, of course, nothing was more important to him that she enjoyed things as much as he did. 

when she thought she couldn’t hold her climax anymore she always closed her eyes, the air couldn’t reach her lungs as she gave sharp breaths, and that’s when max would change his pace or his position. 

and as she closed her eyes, her inner walls impossibly tight around max’s length, max decided not to make her wait any longer.

his lips met hers, one hand over her throat, squeezing lightly as the other rubbed fast circles on her clit. the sum of the overstimulation brought her to a peak that was different from all the others she’d experienced. 

her legs shook around him, she wanted to moan and whine, but nothing came out. she closed her eyes so tight that she saw stars, burying her nails on his skin, pulling him so close she could feel his heaving breaths. everything inside of her tensed and then relaxed as she came, max's fingers slowed down on her clit, hips rolling agonizingly slow as he fucked his cum back into her quivering pussy, prolonging the shocks of ecstasy running through their veins. 

"i love you," max said, kissing all over every inch of skin on her neck. 

"I love you too, my champion," she smiled, lifting a hand to push his hair back, cupping his cheek, her thumb on the dip of his dimple. 

"not yet," he reminded her.

"the third one is coming. and you're so close to breaking a new record, you're on win number nine in a row. but ten? that's something no one's ever done before."

"yeah," he said, resting next to her, his back against the mattress. he was nervous about beating a record set by someone he admired so much. 

"how about a little incentive?" she said, throwing a leg over his hips, gasping as she felt his cock nestled beneath her folds. 

"i'm listening," he said, reaching for her hands, locking her fingers between hers. she started moving, slowly, back and forth, in circles, on top of his hardening cock. "angel-"

"next sunday, after you win your tenth race in a row," she leaned down, lips on top of his, "you get ten orgasms in one day," she looked up at him, shivering at the way his eyes widened.

"that's… a lot," 

"you don't want it?" she raised an eyebrow, leaning back up. max, in his panicked state, grabbed her hips hard and held her in place.

"i don't know if i could survive ten in one day."

"well it's up to you, it could be… you give me ten, i give you ten, or half and half."

"i like that idea better,"

"which one?"

"you getting ten," it was now her turn to shiver at the idea, but the wetness pooling over max's cock let him know she wasn't too much against that idea. 

"we'll have to wait and see then," she kissed his lips, "but right now let's go for one more tonight."

"just one?" max laughed, his hand slithering down her body to touch her clit again.

ten wins.

ten orgasms.

game on.

#f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fandom #f1 #f1 drivers one shot #f1 drivers x reader #f1 fiction #f1 drabble #f1 drivers #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 #max verstappen fic #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 smut

[forecast0ctopus]

Any advice on drawing McCoy? I’m not used to drawing ancient wrinkley bastards (affectionate) and it’s surprisingly tough v-v

FOR SURE lmao i made. a diagram. just a warning that i am going to be irritating and long winded because u just hit a topic i really like sorry lmao

so first off i did some traces just to show whats there vs redraws to show my interpretation

ive said this on other asks but again jsyk, tracing isnt bad!! its a tool. theres some stuff with intellectual property and whatnot but using tracing to study shapes and forms is a really valuable practice.

also just taking some time to learn facial structures and anatomy is super useful, reading what bones and muscles are where and how they interact with one another. taking this info and staring in the mirror and moving your face around and thinking about it. just really furthers understanding of how the face works. trying to sound normal about this but i love anatomy and motion and physics and whatever

anyways im going to go through all the numbered points so there's no confusion. 1. forehead lines - self explanatory. more prominent when brows are raised 2. crows feet - at the outer corners of the eyes, more prominent when smiling or squinting 3. nasolabial folds - the folds that go from the corners of the nose to the corners of the mouth. more prominent when the mouth is wide, like smiling 4. brow furrow - self explanatory, most prominent when brows are furrowed. mccoy tends to have two right next to his eyebrows, kirk has one in the middle. everyones face works different lmao 5. chin crease - caused by how the chin and lower lip interact. 6. nasojugal groove - start from the inner corners of the eye and can extent over the cheeks. everyone has these and idk why people dont like them i think theyre really cool!!!! but Society. i guess. :/ 7. eye bags - caused by the skin sagging beneath the eyes. mccoy isnt even that old in tos i think hes meant to be mid 40s by the end of the 5 year mission, hes just got really prominent eye bags lmao 8. idk what the name is for these, but when the mouth is wide and pushes the skin to the sides, these folds sometimes form outside of the nasolabial folds 9. philtrum - the groove above the upper lip. i dont usually draw this but mccoy's struck me as prominent enough that i usually draw it on him 10. masseter - the muscle that moves the jaw up and down. its a pretty rugged muscle and while i wouldnt say mccoy's is especially prominent, it kind of extends that nasojugal groove from certain angles/positions 11. orbicularis oris - mouth muscle, usually easier to see when lips are pursed or frowns are pulled. mccoy's is pretty prominent from 3/4ths or side, his mouth tends to protrude in profile 12. this isnt a muscle but more of a line defining the planes of the face, but since i drew it i felt i should explain lmao

a few points:

im an animator i tend to exaggerate and emphasize certain things so i usually make him more square.

i like to combine eyebags and crows feet for brevity/flow, same with nasojugal grooves, eyebags, and masseter lines. my approach is always subject to change based on pose, expression, reference image, etc.

i take out details that i deem redundant or cluttering and keep what details i need to make things feel Right

all this info is applicable to any character of any age, its just in how you apply it and facial proportions that willl change how old a character is perceived to be

there's a lot more with drawing a Character rather than an Actor, just because the features are there doesnt necessarily mean things will feel correct? its very much in the mannerisms and poses and expressions

i only went over my approach to his likeness but not really body type or posing or anything idk if u want that i could always try to answer that later haha

_______________

anyways all that info kind of exists nebulously in my brain while i draw its not like im sitting there thinking Must Draw. Nasolabial Fold...... i jsut do what feels right with the visual info i have. also i love specificity in faces.... i dont like to be a hater but when every character is drawn the same it pisses me off a little lmao. so

also dont take my word as The Only Way to do anything i just draw how i like to draw and no one should feel like these are things that Must be done to be a good artist or anything do whatever the hell u wanna do

#anyways my apologies that was. a lot #it will happen again if asked of me. #anon #ask #everyone has this stuff going on with their face and its really cool but capitalism and the beauty industry and whatnot #have been rotting peoples brains since the moment they came to be #the more u look at and appreciate how ur skin an muscles and bones interact with one another the more fine u are with your own face #trust me #because its really cool. like mechanically and stuff #idk if its like theraputic or something but maybe it is or maybe i think about it all way too much #how i draw #ive got some other similar things under that tag i think pertaining to merlin but still similar info

[major-wren]

I love the "ARK siblings" concept and I love cute lighthearted fanart of them being siblings but I feel like a lot of people forget that they literally canonically share a soul and that her death is, in my opinion, I think supposed to represent a part of one's self dying and that they're supposed to be, symbolically, a lot more than siblings.

I always saw Shadow's story as a symbolic way to express the way your inner child and innocence is sacrificed in order to survive complex childhood trauma. Maria's color scheme and the way she's written is, I think, clear to all of us how she's meant to represent innocence and youth. I mean, she doesn't really function very well as a stand-alone character or realistic depiction of a child, shes always been more of an.. idea.

I'm not sure if it was purposeful, but the moon's "Maria" are craters that formed from the moon repeatedly taking the hits of asteroids at it's points of gravity. These points of gravity attract asteroids and draws then away from the Earth. The craters are mostly on the side of the moon we see, so the dark side of the moon, or "shadowed" side is better protected because of that. I feel like this is an extension of Shadow and Maria's symbolism. She took the bullet for him, protecting him, the same way Maria takes the comets, and the same way your brain will sacrifice your inner child (or freeze/rush your mental development) in order to survive intense childhood abuse. I know it all sounds extreme lmao but at the end of the day characters and storytelling are used to explore and express hard emotions and I don't think this randomly tragic character sprung out of nowhere for the Sonic games, which, before that point, always had very lighthearted positive characters (except for the echidna extinction in the game right before Shadow's). Having a character that was easy to approach, yet could represent scarier concepts as a child-friendly stand-in, felt like a very important tool to me growing up. I just hope that that writing can be appreciated in his character, with an understanding of how messy production can be and how a character can get pulled between many different people and ideas. I do think this symbolism was intentional to some degree, especially when it gets to the blatant soul-sharing and how characters insist that Shadow can't be a weapon because Maria's soul (his inner child and true morals despite the damage done to him) makes him "good hearted."

There's other things that uphold this symbolism of Maria dying as representing his inner child being killed, like the rushed/suspended mental development in the face of trauma being illustrated by the fact that Shadow was forced into a dormant cyro slumber right after Maria's death, symbolizing the way he had to basically skip childhood or hit pause on development until he could escape the people controlling him. Much like how victims will have to pause everything and go on autopilot with only a goal of survival until they can escape their situation; only after they feel safe can they begin growing as a person and find their identity. In the Japanese language, there are different types of pronouns people can refer to themselves with instead of just "I" or "myself." In the Japanese dub of SA2, Shadow's creator said in an interview that he had been very insistent on Shadow using the pronouns reserved for young boys, despite Shadow's menacing villain role in the game, because he felt it was important to show Shadow's purity and his lack of experience in life so far. That "live and learn" theme.

And then in his self titled game, Shadow is searching for a way to reconnect with his past and to find the truth about this Maria person he keeps seeing in flashbacks, but in the end he throws away her picture and accepts himself as he is now, forever changed and stained by his past, but more than just a product of his situation. He is "all of him," including the negative impact he never asked for, and including the parts of himself he lost, but also the parts of himself he chose to become. Your environment and childhood shapes you even if you didn't want it to, but that doesnt mean you cant have control in your identity and recover your inherent nature once you've escaped the negative influence (nature vs nurture theme). He will never be the person he used to be, or could have been, (represented by Maria as a pure and untouched youth), but he still has a say in what that grows into.

I just feel like a lot of Shadow's identity issues and inner conflict stem from this whole soul sharing situation with Maria and that his character ends up inevitably being misunderstood if you water them down to just siblings. Especially considering that it was never answered if Shadow actually even ever met Maria or if they're just memories planted by Gerald or caused by the shared soul. In Sonic Battle, it's also said in Gerald's diary that not only do Maria and Shadow share identical souls, but that Gerald literally modeled Shadow after Maria out of his love for her. I'm not sure to what degree or in what ways, but Shadow is supposed to share purposeful similarities with Maria, likely through the content of her character and her morals. That's what makes them so much deeper than just psuedo siblings, he's not only made for her, but designed after her too. It can't really be compared to, for example, Sonic and Tails.

I also think its what makes Shadow's character so substantial and meaningful. His self titled game's entire theme was purity, morals, what is good and bad. This question of purity and morality spreads into his appearances in other stories too- This question that, if you were badly hurt in your youth and shaped by evil- does that leave you impure? Stained? Destined to continue that cycle of harm and cruelty? I think these insecurities feel very real and relatable, and that it's even more realistic that despite these insecurities, that hurt and damage is actually what fuels him to protect others. Just as he said in Sonic Battle, "There's no need to repeat past tragedies! Nobody else ever needs to go through the things that I have!"

Statistically (despite media portrayal) abuse victims RARELY become abusers, because they understand the pain on a deeper level and can't bring themselves to force someone else into experiencing that same pain, knowing the permanent damage it causes. However, childhood abuse leaves people socially stunted and conditioned to harshness, which causes them to accidentally hurt others without meaning to. Or they end up hurting people out of desperation if they feel endangered (like Shadow's "means to an end" approach where he'll prioritize violence if it means reducing the end-impact). Also, they are more susceptible to being abused again after escaping the first abuser, because they are so susceptible to manipulation- Just like how whenever Shadow does switch sides, its usually because someone manipulated him into it or literally brainwashed him. I think Shadow conveys all of this so well, and that Maria's true role is an integral part of it all that can't be ignored or misunderstood, or else Shadow ends up reading as unnecessarily violent or overly obsessed with her when you interpret her as just a sister-figure that he knew for... who knows how few years.

I think this symbolism runs deep with his writing. Just like Maria's meant to be that inherent purity and inner child, I think the black arms DNA is that stain that abuse or trauma can leave on you, that causes you to act out or feel like you're always holding back and trying to keep control over some darker part of yourself that was left behind in the damage done. Especially since they literally have a mind link with Shadow. In the Sonic Universe comic, they succeed in brainwashing Shadow and turn him against his friends. These mind-links, soul-sharing, and brain-washing from both Gerald and the black arms... To disregard the fact that he's deeply connected to these people on a metaphysical, identity altering level is to water down his character and leave it feeling as though his motives are too weak to justify his harsh actions. I've seen people poke fun at his amnesia or insecurity in his identity, as though his confusion isn't justified, and I think it's because people don't realize he has these... literal fragments of other people inside of him, that that's pretty much what he's made of, kind of franken-steined together between a little girl's hopes and morals, an alien race's hivemind greed, a weapon-hungry government and a revenge maddened scientist's painful grief, and even the chaos emeralds which we all know are spiritually whacky and potentially connected to another alien race's memories and energies (the ancients from sonic frontiers). With all of that going on, plus some amnesia mixed in and his memories having been altered by Gerald- I mean.. you'd be searching for the "truth" of your identity too, who you really are. And of course, prone to frustration and aggression, or even a "wish-washy inconsistency." I think there's always a constant tug of war inside of him and that his whole development was a game of tug of war between Gerald, G.U.N and the black arms too. "Am I a cure, am I a death-bringer, am I earth's protector, am I it's destroyer," etc etc

Idk I just think a lot of problems people have with Shadow's writing stems from not realizing how deep things go and what they symbolize. Not to say that something like his boom characterization is of good quality or anything, but I think it's unfair to call him inconsistent when a confusion in his own identity and purpose/goals is kind of the point. And I think people not realizing Maria's deeper, physiological connection to him and influence might be part of the problem.

#major mumbles #shadow the hedgehog #ark siblings #maria robotnik #gerald robotnik #sonic the hedgehog #sth #shth #sonic adventure 2 #shadow the hedgehog headcanon #sonic headcanon #sonic analysis

[starlazergazer]

I’ve Got You

Pairing: Anakin x reader

Request: Imagine waking up in Anakin’s arms him all sleepy and tired with the fluffiest messy hair and his morning voice.

Warnings: Some nightmares

Word count: 3K

A/N: Decided to add some stuff about the reader dealing with nightmares and now realize that’s the main plot of the fic but I really hope you like it and enjoy the morning Anakin moment because I know I loved writing it!!! 

Anakin couldn’t help but look down upon you with a soft smile, his posture rigid in every attempt to keep from moving even the slightest from his current position.

“We’ll be landing soon” His masters soft voice sounded from across the room and Anakin’s eyes snapped up to Obi-wan’s, his cheeks coloring slightly at having been caught staring, honestly having forgotten he wasn’t alone with you.

“Right” he cleared his throat awkwardly trying to fight down the embarrassment, looking back down at you before continuing reluctantly “I guess I should wake her up”

As if you had heard him you pushed yourself further into his side, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you got more comfortable with your head on his shoulder, arms having wrapped themselves around his in a sort of hug at some point.

And just like that Anakin was transfixed once again, Obi-wan’s presence fading into the background of his mind as he watched the small twitch in your nose.

It wasn’t the first time you had fallen asleep against Anakin on a trip, nearly every flight ending up in this exact situation in fact, but Anakin never failed to relish each nap as if it were the last. He lived for every bit of contact you made, the sense of comfort and ease that fell when you slept, the calm and quietness of it all.

“Let her sleep” He could hear the smirk in Obi-wan’s voice but choose to ignore it “the girl never seems to have gotten enough”

Anakin just nodded in response, watching his master stalk towards the bridge before turning his attention back to you.

Your hair smelled good.

That was the first thing that always seemed to hit him, your scent completely surrounding him, almost drawing him in.

He wanted nothing more in that moment than to place a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

And why not? You were completely alone no one to judge or witness this betrayal of the Jedi code.

And before he could stop himself he was leaning down ever so slightly.

Then a soft groan stopped him.

He sat back up immediately, fixing his gaze across the room as he heard you yawn, the weight on his shoulder lifting slowly as you sat up, the cold hitting his arm for the first time all flight as you unwrapped yourself from him.

“Hey” He could hear the slight pitch in his voice and prayed you wouldn’t notice, covering it with an anxious clearing of his throat.

“Hey” You rubbed the sleep from your eyes Anakin taking a second to admire the slight mess the nap had made of your hair before your hands were running through it trying to control the bumps and tangles. “Sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that”

Anakin couldn’t keep the smile off his face at your tone a voice, a slight gruffness edging into it as it always did when you first woke up. “No that’s okay, you looked like you needed a nap”

Your body shook with a soft chuckle and Anakin’s heart soared, he always loved it when he could make you laugh. “Thanks Ani” And oh how he loved the sound of that name on your tongue.

You stood up with a big stretch, arms lifted into the air as you relished the pops that sounded from your back. “I suppose I did though”

“Are you still having them?”

You could feel your heart sink at the simple question, not ready to admit that your nightmares never ceased, not ready to admit that you hardly ever slept through the night.

“Are we landing soon?”

Anakin’s expression softened as your non-answer, clearly deducing what it meant. And you could see the pity seep into his eyes and a part of you got angry. You neither needed nor wanted Anakin’s pity, you were a Jedi Knight you could handle a few bad dreams.

But as you looked into those soft blue eyes you could feel your resolve soften, knowing he meant well.

“They’re okay” you answered reluctantly with a sigh.

“I coul-“

“I’m going to find Obi-wan” you cut him off. Slowly backing away from where he sat towards the bridge. “but-uh-thanks for being my pillow”

And with a sigh all Anakin could do was nod, forcing the small smile to his face “anytime”

-

As a Jedi padawan you’ve been brought up with no personal possessions, taught since childhood to not need material comforts.

Did that stop you from squealing in delight at the sight of a large bed covered in pillows and blankets that was to be yours for the night?

Of course it didn’t.

Because while you didn’t need a hundred pillows or a plush mattress or five different blankets to choose from you had to admit you did enjoy them.

With no hesitation you ran to the foot of the bed and launched yourself into it, landing on your stomach on a pile of just about every soft piece of bedding you could even think to exist.

You were so lost in your own bliss that you almost missed the soft chuckling that came from your doorway.

Moving as little as possible you craned your neck to see a very amused Anakin leaning against the frame of the door with crossed arms.

“Don’t judge me”

“I wouldn’t dream of it” he was quick to assure you with a smirk “I just wanted to let you know Obi-wan and I are going to talk to the senator”

With a dramatic groan you pushed yourself to a sitting position “Okay I’m coming”

“No no no” Anakin was stalking towards you with that same smirk “you’re going to go to sleep”

“Sleep?” You laughed “I’m not even tired. Plus we’ve got a job to do”

“Yes and Obi-wan and I have got this part of it” he assured you, pausing in front of you at the end of the bed “You nap and tap in later”

You glared up at him from your sitting position, watching him kneel down to your level in front of you.

“Come on when was the last time you got some real sleep” His tone had gotten much quieter, any teasing nature vanishing from it.

“Ani I’m-“

“Don’t say you’re fine” he cut you off with a shake of his head “you need sleep, take advantage of the nice bed while you can”

And you had to admit you were comfy, a part of you not wanting to even stand up from it let alone go talk to the senator you were sent here to protect.

As if he could sense your thoughts a knowing smile crossed Anakin’s face “that’s what I thought now come on” he pulled lightly at your arm, beckoning you up towards the pillows as he walked around the side of the bed to meet you there.

“Are you going to tuck me in?” You teased with a smirk.

“Yeah yeah” He shook his head with a similar one, nonetheless helping you pull the covers up and over your body. “You want a bedtime story too?”

“Well I just can’t imagine trying to sleep without one”

Once you were finally situated he straightened back up to his full height, an almost content smile on his face. And though you expected him to leave he hovered above you for a moment, blue eyes staring down into yours.

And just as it seemed to last for too long, just as you were about to ask him if he was okay his hand reached out tentatively towards you, long careful fingers lightly skimming over your skin as he brushed a piece of your hair to the side.

You drew your eyebrows at him, sending him a questioning look and his face seemed to mirror yours, as if he wasn’t sure where that came from either.

“Right-uh-“ he stuttered awkwardly, retracting his hand quickly and taking a few steps back “have a-uh-a good nap”

And despite yourself you giggled, watching Anakin’s cheeks flush slightly as he retreated from the room.

“Thanks Ani”

-

You had held out for as long as you could. But a brave façade can only last so long.

You could hear your own brokenness in your voice as you pleaded, your face wet with tears as you cried out.

“Please” you sobbed, hating how pathetic you sounded “Please I don’t know anything”

“Oh” the woman holding the blaster cooed with a smirk “you know that’s not the answer I want to hear” her grip tightened on the hilt as she raised it directly the Obi-wan’s forehead, making a point to stare directly at you and not at him.

Because this was your choice, you in effect were pulling the trigger in refusing to give up the information they wanted.

But you truly knew nothing, you had no answer, no way to get out of it, no more tricks up your sleeve to escape “Please don-“

You were interrupted by the sound of the blaster firing followed by Obi-wan’s body hitting the ground.

A scream ripped through your throat as you looked down at the Jedi master now dead on the floor.

You felt powerless, hopeless, empty.

The woman tsked with a shake of her head “now come on Y/N you got one more chance” and she lifted the blaster, a pissed off looking Anakin staring down the barrel.

“Don’t tell her anything”

You felt like ripping out your hair, pacing anxiously in circles knowing you couldn’t reach her in time, knowing there was nothing you could do, knowing Anakin was a dead man, knowing it was your fault.

“No no no don’t shoot him” You pleaded again, considering if dropping to your knees would add to your case at all.

“Tell me what I want to know, and no one needs to get hurt”

“I don’t know what you want!” The words came out quick and angry, desperation seeping into your voice more now than ever “I would have told you by now if I could, but I can’t. You don’t need to keep doing this”

“We both know I’m not the one doing this” she looked at you with pity “and they know it too, this can all come to an end”

And desperately you tried to come up with a plan, with a lie that was reasonable, with anything that could help.

“5…4…3…” she started counting and you could see Anakin gear up for the blast, his muscles tensing as he stared straight ahead.

And no matter how hard you pleaded, how hard you cried, you couldn’t stop the sound of the blaster.

And suddenly you were falling, down to your knees, through the floor, through the ceiling of the room, crashing back down onto your bed with a gasp.

And Anakin’s worried face was hovering above you.

Before your rational mind could even catch up you had wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled yourself into his chest. Because even though you knew it was a dream all that mattered right now was that he was okay and nothing at that moment could assure you of that more than feeling his chest steadily rise and fall against your own.

Anakin didn’t hesitate. He wrapped his arms around you in response and buried his face into your hair, holding you tightly against him, whispering over and over “I’ve got you”

And slowly you let him calm you, slowly your breaths started to steady, your heartrate falling back down to normal levels, the grip of the nightmare on your mind finally starting to release.

Until there was just Anakin.

His scent surrounding you, his arms locked comfortingly around you, there was no world around you just him.

And with a big sigh you relaxed into the hold, letting your posture slump slightly, your arms loosening around his neck ever so slightly.

“Are you okay?”

You sighed against him, taking that as your que to let go, and so you did, albeit reluctantly. And Anakin hesitantly did the same, only letting you escape so far before grabbing your hands in his and sitting down next to you, forcing you to face him as you answered.

“Yeah” You sighed, “I’m sorry about that”

He was quick to shake his head “No you don’t need to be. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No” you shook your head in response, breaking eye contact “no it’s okay. I’m okay”

“Y/N you’re still shaking”

You looked down at your hands in his and realized he was right. And you felt every emotion in that moment well up inside of you. A combination of shame, embarrassment, frustration and sleep deprivation swirling around inside of you.

And then you felt the lump start to form in the base of your throat, felt the tears start to well up in your eyes as everything in this moment just seemed like too much.

“I just want them to stop”

And maybe it was the shine in your eyes, or the wobble in your voice, but something had Anakin reaching for you again, pulling you into him again without another word.

And you felt the lump break, the tears recede, your body calm again.

And he must have too.

“Come on” his voice was soft as he shifted, pushing himself up onto the bed and leaning against the headboard.

You gave him a confused look as he opened his arms to you with a small smile.

“You never seem to get them when you nap on me on our flights” he explained with a small chuckle “its worth a shot right?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be talking to the senator or something?”

He just shook his head “Obi-wans got that, this is more important”

And though you mentally objected to that you didn’t say anything. Taking the moment to appreciate the gesture, taking the moment to allow yourself to be selfish and want nothing more than to actually sleep through the night.

So wordlessly you climbed up and sat before Anakin, leaning you back against his chest, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around you once again.

“Is this okay?” he asked from behind you and in response you smiled.

“It’s perfect”

-

You woke to the bright sun shining on your face, streaming in from the windows across the way, a soft groan escaping your lips as you pried your eyes open.

You felt an arm tense around you in response and that was the first time you noticed the sleeping form behind you, noticed that at some point you and Anakin had moved to fully lying down in bed, his arm wrapped protectively around your middle with your body molded into his as you laid on your side, noticed you got through the night with no problem.

You turned around on the spot, excited to tell Anakin that his plan had worked but the words died in your throat at the sight of him.

His hair seemed to have grown three times in size over the night, poofing around his head and sticking up in at least three different directions.

And before you could think to stop yourself, his eyes still being closed and all, you were giggling at the sight of it.

Anakin cracked his eyes open just wide enough to glimpse at you through the slits, a smile lazily growing on his lips as you reached up to run a hand through his hair.

“Are you laughing at me?”

Your whole body seemed to stutter at the sound of his voice, your hand pausing momentarily before you forced it to continue its movement.

The voice that came out was lazy and groggy, the sleep pulling its pitch further down than you were expecting sending shivers through your body and heat to your cheeks.

“Me?” You forced calmness into your voice, trying to force yourself back to normalcy “No never”

“Mhm” it was a content groan that came out with a small nod as he reached out again, in one fluid motion turning to his back and pulling you into his side, your head naturally falling to his chest as he did so.

And hesitantly you wrapped an arm around his middle in response slightly surprised by how comfortable he seemed, how he seemed to have no problem being as open and touchy as he was now. Sure he was certainly always close in the past but now felt different, more intimate almost.

“Any nightmares?” His voice was still tired and when you looked up you couldn’t help but smile slightly to see his eyes still closed as he tried desperately to cling to his last bit of rest.

“None” you answered happily, enjoying the way a single eye slit open to look down at you, a small smile lazily growing on his own lips in response before he closed it again, the smile lingering beautifully.

“Well I guess we’ll just have to do this again”

And you couldn’t have fought the grin off your face if you had tried, allowing your arm to squeeze him softly as you readjusted your head on his chest comfortably, relishing the soft steady sound of his heartbeat in your ear.

“Well I suppose I could be okay with that”

#Anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin imagine #anakin fic #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker x you #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars x you #star wars x reader #star wars x y/n #skywalker imagine #skywalker x you #skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x y/n

[openconceptpanicroom]

MBTI Matchmaker:

Gojo Satoru x INFJ!Reader

Summary: Random MBTI pairings with characters. First one is INFJ with Gojo Satoru (ENTP). This series will look at how each match would start out. Also what romantic trope each match reminds me of. Feel free to request any type with any character!

CW: Suggestive language, angst/depressed Gojo, fluff, no NSFW here because these are general romance imagine… but I can make a separate post if requested!

-INFJ-

I know, I know, it’s such a stereotype that ENTPs and INFJs are meant for each other. It’s not always true… but it is for you and him.

The romance trope you make me think of is: “Right person, Wrong time,” and “Soulmates.”

You might just be one of the first people to see through him. And at first, it’s just annoying to him. He actually goes out of his way to avoid you for a good, long time. Chances are, you two went to school together and barely said two words the whole time. He carried on just as he was, meanwhile, you lived in his head rent-free after making a casual observation about him seeming tired back when you were first-years.

You have a sort of calm that draws him in. Gojo wants to be around you, but he just can’t get himself to do it. Something about the pull you have makes him feel bound. He doesn’t like it. Gojo can’t play the jester without you seeing that he’s just trying to keep people around him. You see him, fully. It isn’t something he ever gets used to. On your end, it freaks you out how he doesn’t just use you as a free therapist. When Gojo would talk to you he would ask you/accuse you of things like: “Do you ever think about yourself?” or “Do you not like to have fun? Or is it that you don’t know how to enjoy it?” It bugs you that he sees you with just as much clarity.

To most, you two either look like enemies or just don’t know each other. Nobody knows how Gojo watched you as you leave. Nobody knows how you leave small treats on Gojo’s desk to make sure he’s eating.

It won’t be until he’s a grown man that he would even attempt to get to know you. Taking on the position of teacher at your former school brought you all the things you wanted. Stability, the ability to help others, and enough pay to afford an apartment near a botanical garden. You had no idea that someone like Gojo Satoru would be there too. He seemed to share in the surprise.

Once he starts hanging around you, he can’t stop. The world is so quiet when he’s around you. Like waking up early in the morning after a blizzard. Stillness, warm but never hot, peace. Gojo likes to have solitary chats with you. Which is easy, because you’re either alone or working with your students. A part of him doesn’t want other people to see how he is with you, all soft and quiet. Another part of him just doesn’t want to share you.

Gojo was often surprised by your sense of humor. He had always joked that you were “just as depraved,” as him but everyone would tell him he was crazy. You were pure, an innocent, the “mom friend.” Once he started hanging around you he found he was completely right. It was nice to be around someone that didn’t think you were a saintly, sexless being above all sin. You liked his chaos. His spontaneity. He felt so much more alive than you. Being with him brought so much color to your world.

Your loose friendship dives into romance suddenly. It wasn’t the first time Gojo had turned up unannounced at your apartment. He just did that sometimes. Every now and again you would come home to find him sitting on your couch or digging through your fridge. The day things changed between you was different.

It was late at night. You had just changed into your pajamas when he welcomed himself into your apartment. As annoyed as you were that he showed up at that ungodly hour, his expression kept your complaints inside. You have no idea what happened that day but he looked so exhausted. Gojo had taken off his blindfold and you could see in his eyes that he just needed something. He didn’t give you the chance to ask.

His body crashed into yours, nearly throwing you backwards. Gojo’s arms came around you and his face was buried in the crook of your neck. He breathed in deeply, then said, “Can I sleep here?”

Your hands were on his back, your heart was pounding. After processing his request you started to tell him that you could set up the couch for him. He shook his head, lips grazing your neck “No, can I sleep here?”

“Gojo— I don’t understand…”

His fingers went up the back of your shirt, his palms felt cold. You tried to steady your breathing as he pressed his body closer. Gojo’s voice was almost husky as he exhaled, sighing against the growing blush that crept up your neck. “I don’t want to sleep on the couch. Or in my own bed. I want to sleep here, with my arms around you. With your hands on my back and in my hair. I want to take up all your space, not just tonight. But every night, every day. Will you give me that?”

“I… y-yes. I can give you that.”

Before you knew it, you were in bed. No direct confession of love or discussion of “what you were.” Just his lips on yours and his hands going wherever you would allow. He slept soundly, his arms still around you. When morning came you spent the whole day together. Nothing felt different, but you were both doing all the things you had been restraining yourselves from doing.

Thus began your relationship. It moved swiftly after that night. He came over more and more. Started to show off his affections for you more publicly too, much to your chagrin.

#jjk imagines #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk headcanons #jjk hcs #infj #infj x entp

[yesimwriting]

Okay?

--

A/n guess who watched the five nights at freddy's movie for matthew lillard and josh hutcherson and actually really liked it, so i wrote this :)

Summary: The one good thing about working the nightshift? You're always there when Mike gets back.

----

Your nails press into the fabric bundled on your lap. It's simple, the way you pinch and fold the corner of the blanket before straightening it again. The gesture is clearly subconscious, just something for your hands to do while your eyes remain focused on the TV screen. Mike should be doing the exact same thing.

He should be staring at the television, taking in the end of the movie you were watching when he got home from work. A classic, you had called it, expressing your shock when Mike had innocently mentioned that he'd never seen it.

Normally, a reaction like that would have left some small part of him tangled in on itself. But from you, it felt gentle. That's part of the appeal of having you around. You're warm and everything about you is so easy it circles around back to difficult.

Stop it. Mike's getting used to scolding himself on late nights and early mornings that blur together like this. He's always begging himself not to notice the way your presence manages to tug at him.

Mike swallows once, forcing his head to snap back to the screen. The credits are rolling and the only thing he's gathered is maybe the name of one character and the way you part your lips slightly to exhale when something intense happens. Great.

"See?" You turn your head, tugging at the blanket, pulling more of it onto your legs. "It's good." You shift so that you can face him, your knee briefly brushing against his leg. "Right?"

There's so much optimism in the way you're looking at him, wide eyes and an expecting, almost smile, that a part of him feels a little guilty for not having retained anything.

"It was...good," he starts slowly, his pace a beat too slow to feel natural, "But I don't know about classic."

Your mouth falls open in a dramatized display of shock before your lips pull together into an offended pout. "You know it was that good." Not your most profound argument, but it's late and your everything's starting to feel heavier. It's taking enough energy to keep the weight of your eyelids from overpowering the desire to talk to him. "You're just being difficult."

Mike's eyebrows draw together, equal parts surprised and amused. You're not exactly closed off when you're fully coherent, but his schedule and your position as an ever growing babysitter for Abby has let him learn that a drowsy you doesn't shy away from bluntness. You'll call him out more openly in a way that you'd just keep in your head if you were better rested.

"Difficult?" You nod, solidifying your stance. He lets out a partial sigh that's meant to hold the place of a laugh. "I only saw the last fifteen minutes."

You frown dismissively, like Mike should know better than to see that fact as relevant. "Then I'll have to show you--" Your sentence is broken by a small yawn that you cover with your hand. "The rest some time."

The potential for intentional plans hits him hard enough to briefly chase away his drowsiness. "Yeah." He blinks hard, trying not to think about it too much. You say a lot of things when you're tired. "Some time."

You nod, the motion distinct, like you guys really have just settled something important. A cruel sort of warmth begins to crawl up his chest and settles against his neck. He needs to let it go, to get back to only seeing you as an outgoing, friendly face that's always willing to help him out with Abby. Nothing good can come from him developing feelings for you that are more than friendly. He'd mess it up in one way or another and you'd walk away and he...

Mike can't deal with the thought of you walking away. And more importantly, Abby shouldn't have to.

"Good." You push yourself so that your back's off the couch. The blanket shifts, nearly sliding over your knee before you catch it. "I should--I should get going...it's late."

Right. This part of the night. The awareness of what comes next constricts his airways. It must, there's no other explanation for the way he struggles to take a full breath. "You didn't drive today."

For the first time since the movie ended, you drop your attention to your lap. "Uh...no." You squeeze your hands together. "The engine's still a little..."

Mike sighs. Sometimes it feels like your car is more of a topic of conversation than actual guaranteed mode of transportation. Maybe if you let him pay you for babysitting, you wouldn't constantly be fighting with an engine that's likely significantly older than Abby.

The thought of you being forced to brave the cold whenever your car's having what you usually refer to as an "episode" digs at him strangely. Mike also doesn't love the thought of you walking here alone so late.

"Maybe if you let me pay you for watching Abby." The sentence is more of a huff than Mike wanted it to be, a pinch of real annoyance leaking into his voice.

You frown. "It's too late for this." The TV's low lighting doesn't let Mike read your expression fully. "And I already told you, it feels weird to charge friends for favors."

The word friend sticks out in a way Mike doesn't get. It's meaning is suddenly too abstract and concrete all at once. "Weirder than guessing whether or not your truck's going to work every morning?"

You roll your eyes, pulling more of the blanket onto your lap. "It's not every morning." He raises his eyebrows at that. "Seriously. Rebecca is fine." The name nearly forces him to abandon his point. Abby had picked it out early on into knowing you. "She's just occasionally temperamental."

"Occasionally." He ignores your heavy glare. "You could..." Mike's throat goes dry. He knows what the next part in your usual exchange is. "Stay over..." The words feel much too slow, too careful, to come off as casually as Mike wanted them to. "If you want."

Staying over used to be as casual as an extra throw blanket on the couch. Then, overly cold weather paired with difficulty sleeping and the kind of thoughtless decisions people only ever make while half asleep morphed it into something else. When it feels like more work than it's worth to get you back home, the two of you usually end up in Mike's room.

It's all perfectly innocent and carefully unspoken. The two of you barely let your hands touch and even when you're genuinely half asleep, you don't say anything you wouldn't say anywhere else, and yet it's still different. Sometimes it's different enough to help Mike sleep better than the pills.

You nod, eyes now focused on the the throw blanket. Something about your expression makes Mike wonder if you're debating something. "See? If I let you pay me, I'd have to worry about things like overstaying my welcome."

Mike nods, not quite meeting your gaze. "Like that'd stop you."

Playing into the bit, you pretend to gasp before sitting up a little straighter. You raise a fist, gently bumping your knuckles against his arm. The gesture leaves that uneasy warmth clawing its way up Mike's neck.

----

You can't remember the ceiling of Mike's room becoming familiar. The soft grooves that you have to squint to make out in the dark, invisible shapes that you pretend to trace when you need a distraction.

Usually, what you need to be distracted from is Mike's proximity. Tonight, though, Mike's so curled in on himself in a way that has to--at best--border on uncomfortable. That paired with his stiffer than usual demeanor has to mean something.

You don't get why Mike's positioning reads as concerning to you until it clicks. He's pulled into himself like he wants to disappear.

The thought cracks at your heart. You and Mike are a lot more comfortable than you were when you first met. But it hasn't been that long, and you get the sense that Mike and Abby move as a family unit that keep outsiders at a safe distance. Not cold or unwelcoming, just cautious. There's so much you appreciate about their friendship, about Mike, and you know that it'd be easy to blow up.

Maybe you can pretend to be too close to sleep to notice and cautiously bring up your concern in the morning. A passive comment, an opening that Mike can take if he wants to.

But then your body betrays the rational thoughts of your mind and you turn your head enough to see the slope of Mike's back. It hurts enough to force you to break your silence. "Mike?"

A beat of silence that has you contemplating the possibility that he already fell asleep like that. That could be a sign, the universe's way of intervening so that you don't ruin a relationship that has yet been given the opportunity to cement itself.

"Yeah," he mumbles, voice low and uncharacteristically raspy. Mike doesn't turn over, which might not mean anything, but still makes you frown. "You okay?"

The question snaps you out of your train of thought. Of course Mike's wondering if you're okay. It's not that the two of you never talk before falling asleep, but the two of you have been quiet for so long, and now you're bothering him because of--what? A gut feeling?

"Yeah," you whisper back, a little too quickly, "Yeah, I'm--" You cut yourself off, not sure where you're going with this. You're not even sure what you're worried about, or what you want to ask. "Are you?" Echoing the question makes you feel much smaller than you did a second ago. "Okay?"

Another stretch of silence. "Yeah."

It'd be easy to leave it at that. You should leave it at that. "Okay." You swallow, trying to figure out what you're even looking for. "Because if--if you--" You sigh, eyes focusing on his back. "I don't know what it is, and it might be in my head, but you seem kind of..." You trail off, incapable of explaining it any better.

Mike sighs. You don't know what to make of the sound until the mattress shifts beneath the adjustment of his weight. Mike moves so that he's lying flat on his back. It's instinct to push yourself back to give him the space he needs to adjust. Despite your exhaustion, you lift your head, propping yourself up on one elbow.

His eyes are open. You're surprised by how coherent he seems. "I'm okay."

You study him much more openly than you've ever let yourself. His tone is sure enough and even though it's dark, you can feel that his eyes are on you. It's convincing...a little too convincing when he could have just pointed out that you're acting kind of crazy.

"Abby's right," you mumble, "You're a bad liar."

"I'm not--" Mike stops himself, finding it a little harder to hold your gaze and keep his voice steady. There's so much patience in the way you're watching him. "I'm fine, just tired."

You don't fully believe him, but a part of you wants to and there's no way you're getting anywhere tonight. You'll keep trying, and when Mike's ready to talk, he'll talk. Rationally, you know that letting him think you believe him isn't the end of the world. It's not like you're giving up on him. But the word tired had come out so fragilely.

Without your permission, the hand that's not tucked against your cheek reaches forward. Your fingers brush against the back of his wrist. The contact leaves air tangled in your lungs. When the world doesn't end and Mike doesn't pull away or give any indication that there's something wrong, you start to intertwine your fingers. Mike lets you, so stiff you'd consider him passive if it wasn't for the way he squeezed your hand back.

Another wave of silence takes over, this one lasting so long you're not sure what's supposed to come next. Maybe you should have laid back down and fallen asleep already. "You guys talk about me?"

The question's almost enough to make you laugh. "Yeah," it's broken up through a partial giggle as you move to lay down again, "The other day, right after you left Abby started th--" His head is turned towards you, eyebrows pulled together skeptically. Maybe some things are left better said just between you and Abby. "Never mind, I--I forgot that when you leave Abby and I just sit in respectful silence until you get back."

"Mhm," he breathes, his hold on your hand briefly tightening in a comforting squeeze. "Are you going to sleep now?"

The question reminds you of the heaviness pulling at your eyelids. "Yeah." You're satisfied with ending it here. For now. "Goodnight."

He lets out a huff of air that you can't interpret. His thumb drags over your knuckles slowly. "Goodnight."

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #fnaf movie #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fluff

[nyxmainex]

I finished it guys. I finished them. IN A DAY.

Be it, they are VERY rushed and look as such, but I AM PROUD OF MYSELF FOR ONCE.

@velnna @bara-izu @necromosss

Fanart for your characters.

(Warnings: Me rambling)

If any of the artist I made this for see this, I hope you like it even maybe a portion as much as I do. Maybe more. Genuinely, each of these three artists inspire me to continue my hobby of making art. The reason I even do this hobby is to share it in hopes to inspire others. As much courage as it takes for me to even make these much less post them is just proof to myself how far I've come in terms of social interaction. I thank my friend, my mom and teacher for supporting my hobbies and specifically convincing me to make this. I'm off on a ramble, apologies.

I really do hope you like this. Each character has something I added to them, and I explain in their dedicated paragraph. Then you also get an overall part:).

MIRA ♡

Necromosss is the second BG3 artist I found on Tumblr and I adore their art. Everytime I see Moss post, I promise you I immediately spread it to my friends just so they get the recognition they deserve.

Mira was the last character I ended up drawing, and is definitely the most hurried and sloppy. I made hers pretty late, close to the time I sleep, yet I do feel proud of how I made her. Imagining Mira in the stories I've created, I believe she'd fit in with Meladonia, a kingdom of ghosts, poison, and death. Overlooking the main theme, Meladonia's queen, Chamixie (and funny enough, my character who romanced Gale), is a very lighthearted, flirty person. She, while respecting death and it's concepts, is always up to make an occasional joke. She doesn't take everything personally, and I think she'd get alone well with Mira. The Meladonia magic is dark magic known at Kalak. 'Mixie (Chamixie's nickname) created Kalak as a form of a way to express herself. Kalak magic is not negative, and it's not harmful. In fact, Kalak magic is meant to heal and embrace your fears to use positively. Most of the time, using Kalak magic causes small white, almost snake-like slits to form in the pupil of the user's eyes.

I hope you like how I drew her!:)

STAEVE ☆

MAF is the first BG3 artist I found on Tumblr. I can't put in to words how much they've inspired me. Me and my mom both love Staeve, we think he's great, and I can't wait to see more art from Velnna.

Staeve is the first character I drew, and though not as rushed as Mira's, I wasn't confident drawing him. I'm not too sure about how I drew him, though I do hope anyone reading this likes it. Much like Mira, I imagine he'd be from Meladonia if put in my stories.

In case you haven't read about Kalak magic, I'll copy it: The Meladonia magic is dark magic known at Kalak. 'Mixie (Chamixie's nickname) created Kalak as a form of a way to express herself. Kalak magic is not negative, and it's not harmful. In fact, Kalak magic is meant to heal and embrace your fears to use positively. Most of the time, using Kalak magic causes small white, almost snake-like slits to form in the pupil of the user's eyes.

I've, as an anon, told Velnna about one version of my first OC (Broodmother Nera). And she's a version of my main five characters. Her and Chamixie are sisters, four years apart (Nera is 28). Chamixie is a much more sort of flirty person and takes everything told to her with a drop of comedy, unless it's extremely serious (ex: any abuse) as she has experienced negative situations herself. I imagine that she'd want to be friends with Staeve as long as he wants to, but would likely rather protect him even if he doesn't want to be friends. Staeve reminds Chamixie of Alison, the youngest of the five sisters, and was Chamixie's previous life's bio daughter. Even if they are sisters in this life, Chamixie still, while not overprotective, is cautious around Alison. To an extent, Staeve gives off a similar vibe as Alison, and 'Mixie would do more than her best to help Staeve without being overbearing.

I hope this is interesting enough, and that you enjoy how I drew Staeve.

HALION ◇

I have so much trouble remembering how to write this lovely man's name, please correct me if it's wrong, I have terrible memory.

I recently found Bara, and I love all their characters. (No joke though, I ran to my mom to show her your characters). Halion is definitely one of my favourites.

I was the most confident creating Halion, and I genuinely am proud of my art. This is honestly one of the few times I do feel proud of myself. From the posts I read, which is not too many, I love his cheery personality. He makes me believe he'd be from Parfi if he was in my stories. Parfi is the kingdom of the Wasteland, but is known for war, previously known for lust, but after Lord Clemin became the ruler, she changed it to accommodate travellers. While it was re-built for wars, she's made it a beacon of light within a desert. That reminds me of Halion. Clemin, as a ruler, comes off as strong and demanding. But out of all five of the rulers, and as the second oldest sister, she's very soft. Even with her own insecurities, she lifts people up and encourages their positive ambitions. She's actually not very confident, even though presenting as such. Even if she is very silent, and kind of reserved, she'd feel comfortable with talking to Halion.

She created Taei magic, the magic of heat. Taei magic is considered neutral magic, and though she has used it negatively on herself, Taei was meant to be positive. Using Taei magic is essentially holding the essence of a flame, and it's a guiding light to find others. Clemin wants the people of her and her sister's kingdoms to never have to experience what any of them did/do. Using it reflects a flame in the user's eyes.

I hope you agree he'd be from Parfi, and if not, tell me why:)! I also hope you like the art I made for him.

OVERALL/EXTRA

I'm sorry this post is so long, and I wanted to be finish setting up my blog when I made this but I'm just too impatient to do so. The reason this post is so long is because while I could've made art of any artist I enjoy, these three artists inspired me the most. (And I'm an overthinker, so I want to make sure you understand how much I appreciate these artists.)

I hope you enjoy the ideas I had and the art I made. I love all three of these pieces I've made, and I love the original art that they were based on more. And if it's alright with the artists, I'd love to draw more!:)

While writing this, my hands are shaking. Ignore any mistakes in the writing.

(References)

Mira: (her Notion page)

Staeve:

This

And this

Halion:

This

This

And this

PROGRAMS USED:

Infinite painter for lineart and Clip Studio Paint (pro) for everything else.

Edit: LOOKING BACK AT THIS, IT'S SO SAPPY AND LONG I'M SORRRYYYYYY

#art #artist #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #fanart #staeve #halion #mira #velnna #maf #bara izu #necromosss #please like this #social anxiety #i was convinced #:)

[anxious-witch]

Okay. Long awaited analysis of Jure's pictures. As always, this is entirely subjective and I don't claim to be 100% right about ny interpretations. Apologies if I am a bit scatterbrained, I just had to write this today despite vibrating out if my skin.

Anyway, let's get to it

So I went ahead and rearranged the pictures in a way that I think fit together.

We start off with these two(sorry for blurryness, it just turned out like this when I cropped them). But funnily enough, I think we have Jure as the opposite of everyone else. Where the rest seemed to gain protection and safety from clothes, I feel like Jure feels stiffled by them.

In these two, he looks most lonely and disconnected than in any other photos from the photoshoot. In the first one, he is in a position akin to the one we saw him before, in that box. Like a cat lounging on the floor. But he is looking away, giving a picture a sense of loneliness, of disconnection. And even before we see him with a cigarette in picture two, there is an ash tray to indicate the smoking.

Then immediately following is this. Jure begins to take off his clothes, his pants and underwear pulled down messily, he is pulling his sweater up. He is still smoking here, but he is also looking directly at the camera. His eyes are frame by a dark eyeliner.

When I was looking at the pictures for the first time, I didn't get the connection until I saw this picture. I am gonna jump the gun and say that I think this set is literally meant to serve as a seduction. Who did they vote for the most likely to sleep with a fan? Jure. Who said hookup when everyone else said relationship? Jure again.

My interpretation is, as crude as it sounds, is that he is connecting with the viewer here through sex and seduction.

Here we have this again. He is only in his underwear and wearing a jacket. I'd even go as far to speculate that it's not meant to be his jacket. Because he is looking to feel closer to the person he is seducing. He'll put on makeup and their clothes, all for the show, all to be seen and to seduce. And I think that's what this photoshoot is, a way for Jure to be seen in a new light.

Interstingly, he seems to have mostly open body language so far in all pictures. In this one he seems slightly more closed off, with his knees pulled closer to his chest and his arm resting on top of them.

Then in this set, we have what I like to think of as "the morning after". There is no makeup, there is no clothes. Jure looks almost superior in the first picture. He reminds of Roman Emperor reclining.

Romans used to have parties, usually reserved only for men, where the position you got on the reclining bed could speak of your position. Here we have Jure alone, in the center. This is his moment and he is completely relaxed, completely in power. He isn't shying away from the camera, there is not shyness due to his almost naked state. Like someone would, after a suceesful seduction.

In the second picture, that's even more openly expressed. His head is fully turned to the camera, his eyes even more intense. It's as if he is inviting us in, drawing us closer. I can't tell if there is a different balnket altogether or if it's shifted and the end of it seems like a slightly different material.

Either way, I can't see anything but him pulling a lover closer once again.

Third picture is....well. Obviously there are certainly other interpretations, but to go with the obvious, Jure seems to be very open here, even has his eyes closed and that paired up with the way his body is positioned implies pleasure to me. Which once again plays into the whole set being about seduction, and about connection that he seems to gain from physical closeness.

In all three pictures, Jure is wearing a chain necklace around his neck. Interestingly enough, he doesn't wear them in the first set. Perhaps implying this is something new he decided to adorn himself with? Or a steel he wears underneath?

Then we have shirtless Jure, and an reappearance if a chain necklace. He is even openly acknowledging the necklace by touching it. With the addition of Damon's quote: "your art intertwined with my art", I think we can once again reaffirm this is a new way Jure wants to be seen. He is an art all of his own, even when surrouded by the art of the rest of his bandmates, he gets to be a central piece in this one. Yet-in the two pictures on the right, he has closed off body language.

Perhaps he is still unsure of the new role he wants. His gaze is softer, less intense. He is letting us take him in as he is. Which is clearly difficukt for him, hence mire closed off body language but none the less, he is still showing us that.

As always, feel free to add in on these, I feel like I missed on a lot of things bc of everything they dropped on us today but damn. I love this photoshoot sm

#joker out #rio rambles #rio's analysis #jure maček

[cloudybarnes]

love for the ages

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Summary: you’ve loved elijah for a thousand years, and you’ll love him for a thousand more

Word Count: 1.3k+

Warnings: none!

Masterlist

✰  ✰  ✰

You’d known the Mikaelsons for a very long time. For almost your entire life you were one of them. Growing up with the Mikaelsons was something you look back on from time to time. 

Being kids running through the trails, hiding out from the wolves in your village, and dueling with Niklaus and Elijah almost everyday just to put them in their place was your definition of a good life. Your family was nothing like the Mikaelson family. They were always so close knit, and they welcomed you with open arms. 

You loved them dearly, but you loved one of them different from the rest.

Elijah Mikaelson was your love. 

You had completely fallen for this Mikaelson brother, and you had fallen quite hard. 

“(Y/N)!” Elijah called out, two swords in hand. You lightly smiled at him as he smirked and tossed you one of the blades. 

“You challenge me to a duel?” You played. “You ought to be careful who you challenge around here Lijah,” you teased, “one day I won’t be so kind as to hold back.”

“Oh is that so?” He chuckled with an amused smile. He playfully wielded his sword and motioned you towards him. “Don’t hold back, m’lady.”

You giggled as you whipped the sword around, swinging it in circles as you’ve been practicing. Elijah watched with a proud smile on his face as you got into a fighting stance. 

“You are not ready for what’s about to come Lijah,” you teased.

Before you could even begin a duel, Niklaus’ cry echoed through the village. 

You and Elijah dropped your swords and ran out to where Niklaus was walking. The rest of the Mikaelson family came in tow from their shack. 

You gasped as you took notice of what Niklaus carried in his hands. Their youngest brother Henrik dead in Niklaus’ arms.

Rebekah sobbed as she saw her smallest brother lifeless.

From that moment on, a lot had changed for the Mikaelson family.

After their mother Ester had turned them into vampires, she couldn’t bare the thought of losing you, the girl she called her other daughter.

After the Mikaelson family had all of their splits, and falling outs, and daggerings, you were still there, but you were there for one Mikaelson sibling more than the rest. 

Elijah was absolutely, positively infatuated with you.

The more time you spent together, as time went on and the hours turned to days, the days to weeks, the weeks, to years, and the years to centuries with you, he couldn’t see you in any other light. You were the one for him. 

It was late in the 1400s when Elijah finally expressed to you how he felt. You, him, and Niklaus were living together in Italy, and he had finally gotten the courage to explain just how much you meant to him. 

A party was going around. Niklaus had thrown it in hopes of drawing out the doppelganger to break his timely curse. 

As you danced with the strangers around you, Elijah watched from the wall. 

“My, my, brother,” Niklaus tsked, “I’d thought that by now you’d have expressed your love for (Y/N).” He smirked as he watched his brother roll his eyes. “Or at least got the courage to pursue her.”

Elijah scoffed, “it is not as simple as you may think, brother. (Y/N) is the best kind of woman. She’s kind and delicate. Even after all we’ve been through, she manages to see the light in every situation.” 

Elijah scanned his eyes over the room, a crowd of people surrounded you, all wanting to join in on the fun dance you are having. “She lights up every room, and people just want to be around her. She will meet a million people in this eternal lifetime, and I don’t want to get caught up with my feelings and end up losing her to one of them.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Lijah, why do you always have to be so negative?” Klaus scoffed. “Get over there and ask her to dance. I know for certain she will be swooning over you so hard she’ll forget how to even move her feet.”

Elijah chuckled at this, and took a few more minutes to watch you dance, thinking long and hard if he really wanted to do this. He decided he didn’t want to sit around and wait for some other man to sweep you off his feet. He wanted to be the one to do so. 

In a flash, Elijah was off the wall and in the middle of the dance floor, right where you resided.

When you saw him beside you, your eyes lit up and a smile graced your face. 

“My, my,” you teased, “I’d never thought I’d see the day where the Elijah Mikaelson joined me on the dance floor.”

Elijah chuckled and lightly rubbed the back of his neck. “It would have happened eventually, darling. We’ve got an eternity of life to live together.”

His eyes slightly widened as he heard what he said. “Not that I mean our lives together together like romantically, more that we’re both immortal and we happen to spend all of our time together. Us and Niklaus of course, but mainly us.” 

Elijah was a stammering mess at this point, but that only made your heart rate pick up. You thought it was adorable when he got nervous around you. You liked that you were the only thing in this world that made him nervous. 

“I know what you’re saying Lijah.” You smiled as you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Although, would it really be such a terrible thing?”

Elijah cocked his head in confusion. “Would... you mean would being together romantically be a bad thing?”

You nodded your head as you shyly waited for his response. You didn’t want to wait any longer. It had been centuries since you first started loving Elijah, and you didn’t want to sit behind these bottled up feelings any longer.

Elijah’s heart was racing. He was trying to find the words to say how he felt without joyfully screaming in your face. 

He couldn’t contain his emotions, and a grin broke out onto his face. “(Y/N), I fear if I back out now I’ll never have another opportunity to tell you this.”

You stared into his eyes, your heart racing, pulsing out of your chest as you hang on to every word he says. 

Elijah opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He blubbed like a fish before he shook his head and chuckled a little which made you giggle. 

“I’m sorry, you just still make me nervous after all these years.” He confessed.

“I make you nervous?”

Elijah wet his lips as he stared down at yours. “Your beauty makes me nervous. Your confidence and your kindness pull me in. You intelligence and strength keeps me going. You are everything to me, (Y/N).” 

Elijah never broke eye contact. As he poured his heart out to you, you could see in his eyes that he meant every last word of what he said. 

“I love you, (Y/N).” He breathed out. “I’ve always loved you.”

That was just the beginning.

Since that day in the late 1400s, Elijah has always had you by his side. 

Present day, almost a thousand years since you’ve first fallen for him, you still knew that he was the man you wanted to spend your eternity with. Elijah was just as loving and sweet as he was the day he confessed his love for you.

Once he had you, all he did was worship the ground you walked on. He wanted to be your best friend, your partner in crime, your lover, and your rock all in one.

And he was.

Elijah was everything you could have ever asked for, and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your eternity with the man your heart belonged to.

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #Kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson imagine' #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson one shot #elijah mikaelson oneshot #tvd #tvd imagine #tvd oneshot #the vampire diaries #the vampire diares imagine #Stefan Salvatore #damon salvatore #kai parker

[3mcwritingmcuhcs]

How the Avengers Would React to You Falling Asleep on Their Shoulder

(Includes: Thor and Natasha, was gonna do more but i got tired lol, gonna be a part 2 posted later with other Avengers)

Now, we all know Thor is a huge himbo.

He's huge on physical affection--hugs, ruffling people's hair, patting them on the back--if he has adopted you as his friend, you are now subject to being bombarded with pure, wholesome, himbo interactions.

Now, let's say that one night, during one of the usual movie nights (bc you can't tell me that they didn't have any), you sat down next to him. Well, as we've established, he is very physically affectionate, which means that whoever ends up next to him pretty much volunteers to be his personal teddy bear.

One week it was Steve, the next it was Tony (though if ever brought up, he'd only pull up a video of when Thor did it to Steve), honestly, almost everyone had been in that position.

But this night, you were more tired than usual. Training had been harder that day, you hadn't gotten a great amount of sleep, and you were just exhausted.

Enter Thor's natural cuddliness.

You scooted up next to him on the large couch, leaning your head back against his side. Before you knew it, the comfortable warmth combined with him shifting to where your head was cushioned against his rather voluptuous pecs, had meant you were entirely too comfortable.

Five minutes into the movie and you were out.

Thor didn't notice until Natasha pointed out, too entranced with the strange Midgardian performance on the screen.

"Huh, I guess she wasn't exaggerating when she said she was exhausted," Natasha had commented, making Thor look to his left, only for that movement to cause you to slide.

Luckily, you didn't wake up, and instead only curled closer into his side.

Thor just looked down at you in awe.

You looked so pretty.

He stayed entirely still for the rest of the movie night, determined to let you rest as long as you needed.

He succeeded, but at the cost of him also dozing off on the couch.

The rest of the team saw the content expressions and let you two be, though a certain someone was very tempted to draw mustaches on the both of you.

Natasha isn't a super touchy person.

After years of being nothing but a weapon for other's use, her bodily autonomy was something she couldn't bear to lose.

That's not to say that she couldn't be autonomous while still having no problem with touch, but she had used her body to get what others wanted for years.

She couldn't just forget all that and be able to hug people like anybody else. She had to work through it. And though she spent years reclaiming herself, making things right, things still stuck.

With the people she genuinely cared about, she was comfortable with physical affection, but she also didn't feel pressured into giving it. She didn't have to act like nothing phased her.

With you, she could just be Nat, not "the Black Widow" or "Natalie Rushman" or even "Natasha Romanoff". She wasn't an Avenger or a spy or an agent.

She was just her.

Given how close the two of you were, you had grown to understand her unease with sudden physical affection.

You respected her boundaries, only giving her that type of affection when she specifically said that it was okay.

One day though, you broke your rule of asking first.

It was dark out, the two of you were on the roof of the compound, looking up at the sky.

You were both sitting up, talking quietly, the occasional laugh exchanged.

But you had severely underestimated how tired you were.

Natasha felt your head rest on her shoulder, being faintly surprised just because you hadn't asked as you usually did.

But when she saw that your eyes were closed and your breathing was slow and even, she smiled softly.

Sure, touch wasn't her forte, but you had never made her uncomfortable, you had never pressured her, you had always stood close (but not too close, because you understood her need for personal space), and smiled at her sincerely no matter what.

Having you fall asleep on her shoulder, well, it just felt like the most pure affirmation that you trusted her.

And maybe she wouldn't let most people do it.

But you weren't most people.

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fluff #thor x reader #thor x you #thor x y/n #thor odinson #avengers x reader #the avengers

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 14 - Revive

Previous bits here

It’s genuinely becoming a concern as to whether there are enough good words beginning with Re to get them through this… but they will, I promise.

💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙

It was an unfortunate but inevitable side effect of their occupation: Every Tracy had spent far too much time waiting by the bedside of a brother, willing them to open their eyes and say something to prove they would be ok. Scott, due to being able to thrive perfectly well for several days on catnapping alone, probably held the record. Virgil likely came a close second, although he was much more adept at snoozing heavily while he waited.

Scott kept vigil as always.

This time, though, it felt different. The longing to see his brother’s eyes peer up at him had never been tinged with dread before. He had never been afraid of what would happen when a brother awoke before. Of what a newly awoken brother might say. That… was new.

John waited too. Aside from chivvying each other to visit the toilet occasionally, neither were keen to leave each other’s presence, or Virgil’s. The others wouldn’t return with Grandma for a couple of hours yet, and Kayo was working with Brains on a better failsafe for Shadow and the other birds. For now, it was just the three of them.

The sedative had been wearing off slowly. Really, really, really slowly.

Agonisingly slowly.

There were two signs - the occasional bumps in heart rate were the easiest to track and John monitored these with his usual precision, occasionally passing a quiet comment as to the length and volume of the spikes.

Scott was more focussed on the other - the tiniest of movements in Virgil’s hands which had been lying limp on top of the covers, and which Scott had gently arranged and rearranged to try to find the most natural position for muscles and ligaments to rest in. He watched and waited and pondered whether he should move his brother’s right thumb a little to the left - was the hand too curled up, or was it meant to be that way? He was aware that there were probably much bigger issues at play right now but he didn’t want his brother to end up with aches that might hinder his playing or drawing. And this… this he could do something about.

He sighed and adjusted the thumb minutely, then pretending he hadn’t noticed John pretending not to notice.

It occurred to him that he never really saw Virgil’s hands at rest. His brother was always either tinkering with something, gesticulating expressively as he conversed, or tapping out a rhythm on the biceps of his folded arms… his denim clad thighs… or whatever surface happened to be nearby. Scott’s shoulder was not exempt as a surface but he never mentioned it for fear Virgil would become self-conscious and less inclined to casually throw his arm around his big brother at every opportunity.

Scott could never adequately explain even to himself how much it meant when Virgil did that. Neither could he articulate how when the arm eventually lifted and they went their separate ways, Scott would sometimes feel as he couldn’t be properly warm again until his brother’s arm was back where it belonged… his fingers unconsciously sharing with his big brother whatever pulse had captured his soul at that moment.

As children it was always Scott’s inability to stay put that people noticed: ‘If only you could stay still like your brother, look he’s sitting so nicely.’ Even then Scott knew, as had their Mom, that they weren’t so very different. Scott’s need to move was expressed on the macro plane, Virgil’s was no less insistent but hidden from the inattentive on the micro level.

And so Scott waited and watched for the familiar movement to return. John’s comm pulsed and he stepped out of the room to answer the call.

A stronger twitch of the fingers was accompanied by the slightest hint of tension in Virgil’s jaw. Scott reached out and placed his hand over one of his brother’s, seeking connection with that flicker of life… then picked up his hand and held it close to his chest. He found himself leaning forwards so that he could feel his brother’s breath on his cheek, seeking reassurance that Virgil was in there and would come back to him.

This meant, of course, that Scott’s eardrum was in prime exploding distance when Virgil yelled his name.

“SCOTT!”

The despair in that scream resonated through every cell of his body and Scott couldn’t do anything but wrap his brother in his arms and screw his eyes shut. Ear determinedly ringing, he felt the vibrations of Virgil’s pleading as clearly as he could hear them:

“Don’… pleee!! Sco…. I can’d w’ou… Da… NNN… Scoddy nnnnn…”

Scott hated waking from any kind of sedation - the sensation of being trapped, helpless between worlds, where the nightmares were stronger than reality. What kind of nightmare was Virgil experiencing? Or… Scott felt his throat constrict and buried his face in Virgil’s hair… was it worse than that? Was he, in fact, reliving emotions no brother should ever have to experience even the once?

“Sssshhh I’m here, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’m not leaving you Virgil, I promise. I’m here.”

John had come running at the shout and Scott felt rather than saw his presence in the doorway, radiating questions and concern. Scott glanced up and shook his head minutely.

Even that slight movement was too much - Virgil gasped and his fingers tightened in a vice grip around Scott’s biceps, his face pushed hard into his collarbone. Big brother kissed the top of his head and little brother relaxed a little, taking a long breath in through his nose before going limp in Scott’s arms, apparently unconscious again. Scott laid him back gently on to the pillow and gently stroked the hair from Virgil’s damp forehead.

The mattress dipped as John perched carefully on the side of the bed, taking hold of Virgil’s hand and resting his other lightly on Scott’s shoulder. He squeezed gently and Scott placed his free hand on top of John’s.

And they waited.

💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #bereznik aftermath idontknowreallywhy fanfic #resurface fic

[oleander-nin]

May I request TMNT 2012 and 2018 Mikey headcannons with an s/o who subconsciously pulls their Banda when they zone out

(sorry I'm not very well with wording things)

A/N, not important: Thank you for requesting. I assumed 'Banda' meant Bandanas, pleas correct me if I was wrong. I'm sorry this probably isn't what you wanted, nor expected. My writing has been declining lately, and I apologize. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: none other than bad writing.

Words: 395

Summary: TMNT 2012 and ROTTMNT Mikey's S/O likes to mess with their mask tails.

TMNT 2012 Mikey:

It brings him comfort.

Mikey is a very touchy and expressive person, so having that silent confirmation of you still being there, even if you’re zoning out is nice.

He tries to keep his head still when you do it, not wanting to accidentally knock you back into the real world.

In his mind, it’s the equivalent of you playing with his hair, and having the pressure of the tug of the mask or the accidental brush of the tip of your fingers on his head is grounding for him.

He sits on the opposite side of your dominant hand when he knows you’re going to do something that would make you zone out(ie: drawing) so you can continue your activity while playing with his mask.

Picks up the habit himself in a way, and he starts to play with your hair if you let him.

Asks you to do it even if you weren’t zoned out or anything.

He likes the feeling of it, it makes him feel loved that you seek him out as a form of comfort when you’re zoning out.

Will sometimes rest his head on your shoulder while you do it, especially if you’re both watching a movie.

ROTTMNT Mikey:

Finds it sweet.

He welcomes the fidgeting with open arms.

Mikey has a craving for physical touch and having you willingly find comfort in him makes him incredibly happy.

Like his counterpart, he’s delighted your subconscious mind brings you to him for a form of comfort.

He usually stops what he’s doing for a moment if he can, trying to get him and you in a more comfortable position incase you end up being zoned out for a considerable amount of time

While watching movies or shows with you, whether in the comfort of his room or in the projector room, he’ll situate himself so you can easily start to fidget with his mask tails if you need help paying attention.

Gets you some fidget toys so you could have something with you at school, work, etc.

Likes you cuddle with you while you mess with his mask.

He’ll lay on your stomach while you fidget if he’s able, the soft pressure of the tugs making him feel sleepy.

He’ll ask if he can play with your hair too, wanting to fidget with you as well.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt 2018 #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 #tmnt mikey #mikey fanfic #mikey #michelangelo #mikey hamato #rise mikey #mikey x reader #tmnt 2012 mikey #tmnt 2012 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #2012 michelangelo #2012 mikey

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

alright so daryl x reader who draws a lot, and one day he sees their sketchbook on a table or something : when he flips through the pages he finds a lot of drawings of him (not in a creepy way lmao)

ofc he gets flustered because they’re just friends right?? but it somehow leads to them admitting their feelings :)

༉‧₊˚. 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairing: daryl dixon x plus size!reader

― era: season 4

― summary: you liked drawing pretty things, and daryl was just so damn interesting.

― warnings: none!

― wc: 902

⋆ a/n: i was very excited to write this! it's honestly such a cute idea, especially since i made the reader's love language drawing him, and even her confession was a piece of art.

masterlist | AO3

You didn’t know why, but Daryl was so fun to draw; with all his wrinkles and expressions, the indents of scars and beauty marks that marred his aged skin, the little details of him that caught your eye were enamoring. You hadn’t noticed how many pages Daryl had started to take up before it was time for you to get a new sketchbook, so it was safe to say that your old one was well hidden under your pillow in your cell.

Your favorite time to draw him was when you were sitting on one of the benches in the prison yard, watching as he killed walkers that lined the fence, or embarrassingly enough, when he’d just stand there and eat. Sketching him was your way of confessing to him, telling him that you thought he was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen, that he was perfectly imperfect to you, even if your courage would never allow you to do so.

Daryl was surprised to see your sketchbook sitting unsupervised on the table, seeing as though you always held it protectively in your hands, often shying away when people asked if they could see your drawings. He wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t curious to, but he would never be brave enough to approach you and ask you to see something so intimate to you. He hesitantly picked up the leatherback notebook. He knew that you would be positively shitting yourself when you’d figure out that you didn’t have it, and in Daryl’s humble opinion, he was the most reliable person to get it to you.

Well, that’s what he thought.

He ended up dropping the flimsy thing, a silent ‘shit!’ slipping out through his lips as it fell on its back, opening up on a page with an image that looked eerily similar to him. His eyebrows furrowed as he bent down to pick it up, staring intently at the lines. It was him. He could recognize his own stance anywhere.

It was from earlier that day where he was standing next to Carol, hands clasped with a bowl as he chatted with the woman behind the grill. The background was a practical reflection of the prison, the bodies of people sitting at tables were light strokes, even Carol was; it was made evident that he was the main focus of this piece. He couldn’t help himself as he flipped back a couple of pages, coming across many more pictures of him. He knew he should’ve found them creepy, maybe even a bit stalkerish, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel that way, especially not when he felt so flattered.

He was certainly blushing, the butterflies in his stomach raging inside of him like an uncontrollable storm. He didn’t know what to do, nor begin to comprehend what any of the drawings meant. Of course, a part of wanted to believe that maybe you felt the same about him, that you found him as interesting as he found you, but that self-deprecating part of him that always seemed to win spoke louder, forcing him to snap the book shut and continue his search for you.

He found you in your cell where you had pretty much torn the place apart. Your pillow was laying limply on the floor, your sheets tossed on the ground as well, the drawers of the dresser you had found and put in your room – with Daryl’s assistance – had been ripped out, the objects inside of them strown in random places.

He called out your name as you turned to look at him sheepishly. “You alrigh’?” He asked in concern as he took in your once neat cell.

“Yeah, it’s just… I can’t find my…” Your eyes landed on your sketchbook that he was holding. “Book.” You ended breathlessly. His eyes followed yours where he gulped, extending out his hand. “I uh- I found it sittin’ on top of one of the tables.” He said sheepishly as you took it out of his hand, your fingertips brushing his rough skin, leaving a tingling feeling behind in its wake. “Oh, well, thank you for bringing it back to me.”

There was a beat of silence that passed.

“You didn’t… you didn’t look in it, did you?” You asked nervously. The looks that he gave you was one of guilt, the exact look you had feared the man would give you. “I dropped it,” That was evident by the scuff marks your fingers trailed over on its spine. “And it jus’… opened up.” He explained. Your anxiety threatened to swallow you whole as you thought of what to say, how to feel; should you explain yourself? But he looked inside of it which was an invasion of your privacy… but he said it was an accident, right?

“Did I creep you out?” You couldn’t help but ask. There was nothing you feared more than freaking out the guy you were in love with. If you had managed to scare the scruffy redneck away, you don’t know what you would do. “No, I- I liked ‘em. They were real nice.” You let out a sigh of relief, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“I only draw people I like.” You made sure to add, which caused him to look at you with wide eyes.

“Not everyone gets that much detail.” You said teasingly.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

#✰ ― meau's inbox ! #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x plus size reader #plus size reader #x plus size reader #plus size!reader #chubby reader #x chubby reader #fanfiction #fluff #requests #artistic reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon drabble #daryl dixon blurb #daryl twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl the walking dead #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction

[icallhimjoey]

Hiya, love your stuff, man. Could you do Joe and a artist!reader? Maybe she's trying to do his portrait and he just won't sit still cause he's a cheeky cumcum twat

i couldnt not write this (cheeky cumcum twat omg i love you) its a short one! Wordcount: 0.8K

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One Day

Joe caught you in the morning, pencil in hand, eyes fluttering from the paper in front of you to his features and back again. You were sat at the end of your bed, legs crisscrossed in front of you and with a sketch book on your lap. You’d woken up before Joe, the soft light filtering in indicating early morning, and had gotten up and out to pee. When you walked back into your bedroom, the vision of Joe still asleep looked stunning to you; arms tucked up under his pillow, his face buried deep into it, shoulder blades and mid-back exposed above the sheets laying bare his buttery soft skin – you had immediately reached for a pencil to put the sight of him to paper.

The sound of the pencil gliding along the paper, alternating between longer and shorter strokes, had woken him up a little. When he reached an arm for you and found you weren’t there, he’d looked up, finding you at the end of the bed.

“Baby, don’t move,” you gently directed, but Joe groaned softly, stretched, reached a hand to squeeze your ankle and smiled at you before turning over, completely changing his position and facing away from you as he tried dozing back off for some extra minutes of blissful sleep.

You looked at him a second after he resettled before discarding your original sketch, and starting a new one of him right next to it, focusing on the curls on the back of his head this time. Your whole sketchbook was like this; unfinished drawings of Joe, small bits of his body incomplete and facial expressions barely there in the lines.

“Just pretend I’m not here,” you’d always tell him. “I can physically feel your eyes burn on me,” Joe would always answer, shuddering with discomfort, mostly as a joke. “Just a little longer,” you’d encourage and you’d try to be so fast in your work, but Joe’d always falter.

Joe didn’t really like being drawn; the attention and eyes on him would make him uneasy if it lasted too long, which to him, it always did. He blamed it mostly on your eyes; they would change intensity when you’d stare to sketch. Your eyes could rapidly go from expressive, kind, smiley eyes to sudden fervent, observant ones. It was funny, because drawing him was exactly how you and Joe had met.

You’d been sat on the tube, sketch book in hand, drawing random things you’d see to pass the time. A dog laying by its owners feet. A man in a suit looking up at the tube map, counting the stops he still had to go every time the train stopped. A little girl hanging onto her mother’s hand, wearily eyeing the strangers around her. And then, when Joe sat down opposite you, you had drawn him. He’d been wearing headphones, and was reading the newspaper he’d found on the seat before he sat down. Whatever articles he’d been reading had distracted him enough not to have spotted you darting your eyes from him to your sketchbook repeatedly for the duration of his commute.

It wasn’t unlike you to miss your own stop to finish your sketches, but when Joe had gotten up to step off, you realised you’d missed your stop by 7 stations. A new record.

You’d followed him off the train, stopped him on the platform to give him the page ripped from your sketchbook with a shy smile, and then made your way to the opposite side to get onto a train that would take you back the way you’d come. It prompted conversation - the sketch, and the fact that you had clearly missed your stop. Your sketch then hadn’t been completely done, either, you would’ve missed 7 more stops if it meant you’d gotten to finish it. But Joe was impressed - your sketch was good. Furthermore, you also looked really cute.

And now here you were, seven months later, still without a full sketch of him that you considered done. Joe would joke that the second you would finish a drawing of him, you’d be straight out the door, onto your next project.

When after a few minutes of trying your hand at the back of his head, the early morning sunlight dancing along his strands, Joe moved again. This time he turned over onto his back, hiding the swirly shapes you'd found in his hair into the pillow. It made you groan softly, a little defeated. “One day,” you sighed, closing your sketchbook, placing it on your bedside table and sneaking back under the covers. You knew you’d be able to get some cuddles out of Joe still before his alarm would force him to wake up.

“One day,” Joe softly repeated you, not sure what you meant, still half asleep, but arms finding you and happy to have you there. He pulled you in and tucked you into his side, nuzzling into you and breathing you in as the sun slowly arose, breathing the day into existence.   

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The Taglisted:  @ghostinthebackofyourhead @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @nobody-000 @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @thefemininemystiquee @dirtyeddietini - add yourself  

#requested #joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn fluff #joseph quinn fluff #joe quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfic #one day