#sheet metal design detailing

[drak3n]

TATTOO ARTIST/PIERCER!CHOSO

CONTENT WARNINGS: unestablished relationship, smut, public sex, mentions of body modifications, cunnilingus, implied blowjob at the end, choso has a prince albert-, tongue- and a vertical eyebrow piercing

sena’s note: i know there’s a lot of tattoo artist choso already but i folded — anywaysss up next is my man gojo 🖤

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who was very well-known for his talent despite being so young; who was always pretty gifted with his hands and used peoples’ skin like a canvas, gracing it with the prettiest designs, simple and small, or detailed and large

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who shared a studio with a few fellow tattoo artists and piercers, but had a goal of having his own studio someday

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who had just finished a 5h back piece on his last client and walked towards the front desk to retrieve his cigarettes and take a break, just for his hooded, brown eyes to set on you

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who saw you standing next to your friend and encouraging her to hand in her data sheet for her tattoo, and who watched as your friend was immediately guided into one of the rooms by a tattoo artist, just to leave you all by yourself

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who came back from smoking minutes later to see you sitting on one of the leather seats, flipping through pages of the shop’s magazine that showed many different designs of tattoos, and also piercings

“you want to get anything done?”

nearly flinching at the cold voice sounding a couple of feet away from you, your eyes met choso’s, who was leaning against the wall, revealing fully tattooed forearms through his loose-fitted t-shirt. he looked very… unique, to say the least.

“oh, no, i’m just waiting for a friend,” you smiled kindly, “she’s getting tattooed right now. think it’ll take some time.” you felt guilty that you stared at the man like he was some kind of alien. his features were just really captivating, the plethora of tattoos peeking out from his short sleeves and from the collar leaving little to the imagination that they continued even beneath that shirt.

his eyebrow tattoo shone under the light, but when he opened his mouth, your jaw nearly dropped at the sight of a tongue piercing.

you suddenly remembered what they said about guys with tongue piercings, and felt deeply ashamed about getting such thoughts about a hot stranger.

“come,” he invited you towards the room he usually worked in, “you’ll get bored here. you’ll get a piercing on the house.” he didn’t know why he offered that. maybe, just maybe it was because he didn’t want the other piercers and tattoo artists to charm you first.

at the end of the day, you left the studio with your freshly tattooed friend and a pierced nose.

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who hoped you’d walk in again, and whose shoulders nearly slumped in disappointment upon seeing your friend coming in by herself a few days later to get her tattoo checked, without your company

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who — totally on accident — saw that the studio had been tagged in multiple stories on instagram, one of which being yours, a spontaneous picture taken of your side profile that showcased the gem he had pierced into your cute nose

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who absolutely didn’t follow you after that, just to see mere minutes later that you did, and before he could stop himself, he followed you back

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who really wasn’t the best texter, which left you wondering if you should even try and talk to him at all; whose eyes went wide in surprise when you waltzed into the studio to get your thigh tattooed weeks later

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who showed you that same day how it felt to get eaten out by someone with a tongue piercing

“c—choso��� fuck— what if someone—”

your hand clamped in front of your mouth to stifle a moan threatening to force itself out when the ball of metal on choso’s wet muscle bumped against your bundle of nerves. you were seated on the couch he’d previously tatted on, both of your bare legs thrown over his shoulders as he feasted on your delicious pussy.

“let them,” he spoke gruffly into your cunt as his tattooed hands dug into the underside of your thighs. he didn’t hide the smirk displaying on his lips at the way you drooled from the sensation of his piercing coolly gliding against your wet pussy lips.

“c’mon. use your words. i’ll let you cum if you do.”

“pleasepleaseplease let me cum… please choso.”

“cute. you want to feel what the piercing on my dick feels like?”

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who totally did make you beg on his thick dick adorned with a shiny prince albert piercing, and who couldn’t even be mad at you when you flashed him a tongue piercing you had gotten at another studio to surprise and make him see stars just like he’d done for you

#choso smut #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #jjk choso smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader fluff #jjk fluff #jjk choso fluff #choso fluff #tattoo artist!choso #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x y/n #kamo choso x reader #kamo choso x you #jjk choso #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #choso x female reader

[monarchinnovation]

Any building product constructed of sheet metal design has a significant gap between the initial concept sketch and the finished product. For instance, early models and drawings go through an iterative process while building a metal canopy to accommodate customized requirements. Before it is approved for manufacture, revisions to the basic canopy frame, design principles, look and feel, etc., are made.

#CAD Drafters #Sheet Metal Design #Sheet Metal Detailed Drawing #Sheet Metal Drafting #Sheet Metal Drawing #Sheet Metal Fabrication

[stevebabey]

Eddie has a test.

It took some time to formulate, a few too many times with guys careless with his heart, who leave behind more heartache than happiness littered in their memory. It’s fucking hard to tell.

More than once, there’s been a dude who promises between kisses i’m not going anywhere and takes more than his fill during a night which Eddie desperately hopes is passion and not some misguided lust. Only to wake a familiar empty side of the bed, them gone — skipping town, back in the arms of their parent-approved girlfriend, or back to spitting his name out with the word freak.

It’s what the test is for.

It’s specific, purposeful, all intending to weed out the straight boys who liked to dip their toes in the pool of queerness and leave Eddie to any consequences of the heart. Eddie doesn’t want to turn cruel, to be too jaded after feeling used too many times. It’s what the test is for. Protect the heart, see what interest is genuine.

Right now, he’s putting the test on Jared. New in town and in Eddie’s life, he’d captured the metalhead’s gaze from the glint of his pierced ear and light eyes that lingered. Kissed a little mean, and with too much teeth, but Eddie chalked it up to excitement. Jared seemed good. Nodded and smiled when Eddie found himself wrapped up in yet another DnD spiel. Said he found it endearing.

The test is simple.

A bid, a nudge, for attention. Never anything big or too exciting— that always got him specifically warped smirks designed to lead him along. Just something minuscule, like will you come take a look at my notes? or can i play you that riff once more? to see if it gave.

The pattern runs deep in Eddie’s dating history; same ol’ jerks who couldn’t bother to come and look at his new DnD sketches are always the ones who are only leasing a new sexuality for a month. It’s like setting a minefield and seeing who stumbles on a landmine, the bids getting ignored is as early as a warning sign he’ll ever get.

He tries the test on Jared.

It’s a Thursday night and Jared’s round at the trailer, lounging on Eddie’s sheets and still a little flushed from the night’s earlier activities. Usually it’s a good sign when the guys stick around after sex, not flying out the door once they’ve got what they want. By now, Eddie has drifted away from his bed, skittish thoughts already off and away with new campaign ideas.

He’s scrawling in a character design, some new boss, half troll, half hellhound, that requires a lot of finicky details worked out. The page is covered in scribbles, nothing in any semblance of lines and a crude first sketch is in the middle. It’s not quite the vision he had in mind but it took him an hour, so he’s hardly going to erase it. Besides, it looks pretty fucking metal to him.

“Hey,” Eddie calls out, a bit soft. No pet-names used— most of the time boys didn’t like them and wrinkled their nose. Those that didn’t mind, never returned them. “Can I show you the sketch I’ve been working on?”

He pauses, then launches into an explanation without waiting for a response, “It’s for the new campaign I’ve been planning, one of the bosses, and honestly, those little shrimps have no idea what’s coming for them.”

Jared, still slouched on the bed, peeks up a bit at the noise. He hadn’t really been doing much, just leafing through some of the junk beside Eddie’s bed. If Eddie let himself hold any hope, he would say it’s because he wants to know more about Eddie.

“Huh?” Jared asks, genuine enough that Eddie thinks maybe he didn’t hear him.

“A DnD boss?” Eddie says, eyebrows raising. He barrels on, thinking about how Dustin had helped propose the new boss, with a grin spreading across Eddie’s face. “Dustin, the little twerp, challenged me to pick a random combination of creatures and mash em’ together- see what crazy abilities come from it.”

“Who’s Dustin?” Jared asks, failing to sound like he cares. His eyes have wandered elsewhere, head falling back on the pillow and Eddie’s initial question about the sketch is long, long gone.

Oof. And that’s like 3 failed bids at one time because Eddie talks about Dustin all the time. Jared clearly isn’t interested in Eddie Munson, just what he can offer. Eddie’s heart grows a little colder.

“Look, I think I’m gonna get going, yeah?” Jared says, maybe sensing Eddie’s mood change as he begins to sit up and tug his shirt back over his bare skin. His sticks his feet in his shoes, laces them up. Eddie nods, tucks his notebook behind him and walks him out, plastering on a smile the whole time.

After ambling down the stairs to the trailer, Jared turns back, after searching the surrounding area for leering eyes, and he reaches out and gives Eddie’s hand a squeeze. Just a split second, before it flies back to his side.

Eddie would like to believe that he’s at least worthy of a goodbye kiss. Even if some wicked part of his brain says he’s not, that boys like Eddie Munson don’t get sweet goodbye kisses. Don’t get good relationships, just mindless flings.

The thought makes hurt flares in his gut, Eddie so desperately trying to protect his hope, and so before Jared can say anything, some pitiful goodbye, Eddie leans out the doorway and says, “Don’t call me.” then slams the trailer door.

It follows him around for the next week, his own personal storm-cloud to keep his head grey even when it’s sunny out. He mopes to Robin about it during her shift, probably the only other person he can talk to about it.

“So, you tested him? What does that even mean? Is there a gay test you know about that you haven’t told me about? That would be so uncool, man.”

She’s talking as she types, half paying attention to the computer. Steve is out in between the shelves, putting out a new batch of films— Eddie knows because he’d instinctively sought him out when he came in. Harrington was a pretty boy, sue him for wanting to enjoy the view.

Didn’t help he was also decidedly declared not-a-douchebag by Eddie during the whole upside down spiel and had the duality of biting off that bat’s head and somehow being the world’s biggest sweetheart for his friends. Friends that now included Eddie.

 What can you say? Going through that much together, including killing a death wizard and getting dragged out of an alternate dimension certainly forms some strong bonds. Plus, Steve was hot.

(Eddie denies the crush on the basis that would. never. happen.)

At the reminder of Vecna, Eddie winces and supposes he should be lucky he gets any sort of attention after that whole scandal. But it doesn’t stop him from draping himself across the front counter, laying pathetically with a pout on his lips. He shakes his head fervently at her question.

“Not a gay test, Robin.” He stresses. “It’s the Eddie-Munson-is-this-boy-gonna-stick-around-test.”

He rolls up onto his elbows and props his head into his waiting palms. “Gotta make sure I’m not being treated like some common whore.”

It’s meant to be a joke, a usual joking lilt to his voice, but the end of the sentences comes out a bit too bitter to land that way.

Robin’s sympathetic expression makes Eddie’s chest twinge in a way he doesn’t like. He waves her off. Slumps back down a bit before deciding he’s done enough wallowing in the public eye.

Robin doesn’t say anything as he pulls out his usual notebook, pages weathered and filled. Eddie usually hangs around the store on days without plans, flits between Robin and Steve, and scribbles in his notebook. She bites her lip, gaze moving between the book and the resigned expression on Eddie’s face as he turns to the latest page— the strange hellhound troll mashed up boss.

“Okay, I’ll bite—what’s the test involve?” She asks, pausing in her typing for a moment. Her hands don’t stop moving, still stressing the fabric of her pants twitchily. Eddie perks his head up, clutching his pencil a bit tighter and rolls right into it.

“It’s not even really a test, technically, but doesn’t matter- that’s just what I call it - it’s like a bid?”

Robin raises her brows and they disappear under her fringe. “A bid?”

“Yeah! A bid!” He waves his arms around as he speaks, gesticulating a bit wildly. “It’s like— like asking them to come look at something stupid and small, just to see if they’ll give your interests time of the day, yanno?”

He punches a finger down into his sketchbook. “A guy who can’t even be bothered to look at a sketch I worked on for an hour? Douchebag.”

Eddie’s tone turns a bit sing-song as he continues, like it’ll somehow distract from the bleakness of them. “Ergo, not sticking around.”

Robin’s hands finally stop their messing, becoming completely still against her legs. She finally swivels her body to face Eddie, a furrow between her brows. Her lips are quirked up, just a bit, like she knows something Eddie doesn’t. He feels his apprehension grow as he slumps his chin back into his hands.

“You mean, like how Steve is with you?”

Eddie stands a bit straighter at that, some flushed combination of disbelief mixing with delight flooded his body.

“What?” It comes out a bit more squeaky than intended. Eddie clears his throat, waves his hands, anything to stop that smirk from spreading across Robin’s face — he can feel his cheeks glow a bit warmer at the mere idea. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Robin smiles a bit and nods over to where Steve is. “Try it, test him.”

Eddie follows her nod, casting his eyes across the store to find Steve. He finds him situated in the romance section, a pile of cardboard box stacked beside him, the top box open and ready to be unpacked.

But Steve’s clearly been distracted by the first film in the box — he’s sunk deep into his mom-stance with one hip popped, one hand on his hip, the other holding the film as he reads the back cover of it very intently.

Eddie watches for just a moment, watches Steve squint and pull the case just a bit closer, wrinkle his nose adorably, snort a little laugh at whatever he’s reading — and dammit, this is just a fast track to insanity if Eddie watches him any longer.

“Steve,” he calls, too hesitant and too quiet. Steve’s head doesn’t move, he just flips the cover back over, marveling at the front. Eddie tries again. “Harrington!”

Steve’s head pops up, eyes skirting about to see who’s calling him. He doesn’t move when he sees it’s Eddie calling, just raises his brows. “Yeah?”

Eddie swallows, tries not to think of Robin paying close attention to both him and Steve. He grips his notebook a bit tighter even though he’s not entirely convinced Robin’s right. Steve Harrington doesn’t like DnD — not even for Dustin who has self-proclaimed himself Steve’s ‘adorable little brother that he never had’. Steve is hardly going to care if it’s Eddie asking.

“Do you wanna take a look at this sketch I’m working on?” He asks, as casual as he can.

Steve’s features give away just a hint of surprise, a blink as he comprehends what’s been said. Eddie holds his breath, ready to turn to Robin and say ‘I told you so!’ and to pretend that he’s not secretly hoping Steve will say yes.

“Sure,” Steve says, slotting the film back into the cardboard box and beginning to meander between the shelves towards the front desk. Eddie doesn’t even get time to be surprised because Steve’s suddenly there, in front of him, all expectant.

Eddie opens his mouth, thinks the better of it, and snaps it back closed. Instead, he thrusts the notebook to the side along the countertop, opened to the page of the sketch and doesn’t say anything. In the background, Robin snorts lightly. Eddie shoots her a glare.

If Eddie could look at Steve, he’d see the lightly amused expression on his face, but Eddie only focuses on the book. Really focuses. God, if he looks at Steve he’ll probably get some stupid mooned expression on his face that would totally give away his tiny stupid not-a-crush.

In his peripheral, he can see Steve sidle a little closer and lean over to peer at the page. And while he looks over it intently, Eddie let’s his eyes drift up, taking in the side of his face.

Curses his stupid handsome face. Then curses it some more when Steve lights up in recognition, turning to Eddie, excited to have a sliver of an idea what Eddie’s showing him. Normally, it’s all mumbo-jumbo to Steve. Not that he hasn’t tried to keep up but those kids are ahead of the curve and Steve wasn’t about to embarrass himself asking them to slow down their explanations.

“Woah, is this that one that Dustin was talking about?” Eddie thinks there might be a bit of genuine excitement leaking into Steve’s words.

“The weird like, mashed up, uh, what’s the word? Hyp- hypb—“

“Hybrid,” Eddie supplies, voice cool. His heart is not feeling so cool. Jesus Christ, Steve wasn’t supposed to pass Eddie’s test— he wasn’t even supposed to be tested. In order for that happen, they’d have to even be fooling around and Eddie blames his building blush on that mere suggestion.

“Yeah!” Steve raps his knuckles against the countertop and takes a second look at the drawing, closer this time. He looks back up at Eddie, so he knows he’s completely sincere when he says, “This is really cool, man.”

“Okay.” Eddie breathes, sounding a bit stupid. He remembers himself, remembers Robin watching him essentially bluescreen at the praise from Steve and wrenches his awed smile into a familiar smug type of grin. 

“Of course it is, Steve-o,” He quickly amends, reaching back and tugging the notebook back. It’s closes with a quick snap, like Eddie’s afraid Steve will take another look. “She’s not finished yet, of course.”

Eddie had to bite his tongue to keep it from either taking an insanely egotistical route to pretend Steve’s praise hadn’t had a profound effect on him, or even worse, start trying to suddenly be humble — oh this ol’ thing? it’s nothing really, just threw it together quickly— Eddie nearly melts against the counter in relief when the bell on the front door saves him.

A customer enters the store, instantly taking Steve’s attention and he bounds off to help them, an easy smile on his face.

Eddie waits until Steve and the customer wandered off into the aisles to release his breath. He doesn’t look at Robin, just turns and presses his forehead down against the countertop. Then raises it just a bit, and thunks it back down, a couple of times for good measure.

“Okay, okay—“ Robin’s gone a bit wide eyed and she waves her hands at Eddie’s pathetic form, his head still bonking against the counter. “Stop doing that. Jesus, Eddie, are the dramatics always necessary?”

His motions stop at Robin’s words and Eddie’s whips his head up. He narrows his eyes at her, and as if to prove his point, exaggeratedly jabs a finger at her.

“Hey! Never deny my right to be a drama queen. It is my god given right as an American citizen—”

“He passed.” Robin says, cutting off what was about to be a very long rant about god knows what. Eddie just didn’t want her to say what she was about to. “Your test. He passed, didn’t he?“

That. He didn’t want her to say that.

“He’s being a good friend! A very good nice friend!” Eddie counters, only sounding a little bit whiny which takes half the conviction out of his words. He slams his hands down against the wood. “That test is for— it’s not for him! It’s for—”

An annoyed noise comes out of Eddie’s throat and he aims for one more thunk of his head against the counter before tugging it back up and meeting Robin’s smug expression. She’s too smug. Her whole face is smug smug smug and Eddie scowls. He points a deliberate finger at her again.

“Different context, alright? That—” He waves an arm behind him, in the direction of Steve carelessly. “—doesn’t count. Nope. Not- that’s not how the test works.”

Robin sighs, as if she realises how fruitless it is to keep chucking this argument between the two of them. Her hands finally resume their typing and Eddie lets his head drop again, this time resting it against the wood a tad more gentle. He slumps, blowing a pointless raspberry as he tries to evacuate every thought that’s entertaining Steve as more. Or Steve wanting more of Eddie.

“Look,” Robin says suddenly, halting her typing once more. Eddie rolls his head so he can see her but doesn’t bother to lift it. She’s sideways in his vision, but still barreling on in that Robin way. “One last thing and then I swear, I’ll leave it.”

Eddie raises his brows. Says nothing.

“Have you considered,” She pauses, and appears to be trying to pick her words carefully. “whether anyone else is putting their bids on you?”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, knowing exactly what she’s hinting at. Subtlety has never been Robin’s strong suit. It’s even more obvious when her eyes dart across the store — Eddie seriously doubts she’s talking about the random customer that had just entered.

“Just think about it?” She pleads, and Eddie feels his annoyance at how easily he can feel his heart roll over. “See if you notice any bids from... anyone! Anyone at all.”

Eddie picks his head up, chances a glance towards Steve and admits, there’s no harm in trying. Even though, Steve had surprised him today Eddie can find a dozen reasons to chalk that up to. A dozen reasons that don’t include mutual feelings.

Eddie mulls it over, because because what are the chances really? Steve putting bids out to him? To specifically Eddie? The chances are slim to none.

So the answer he gives is, “Sure.”

He’ll get to tell Robin later she can stuff it and wipe her smug expression off with the most righteous i told you so on the planet. There was no way she was right about this, right?

Part two. Part three.

#this is not nearly as edited as most things that come out this blog #but i was going for those rambly posts i see of them all da time #<3 #steddie my beloved #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #posting this at an odd time bcos it’s not what da usual followers expect #anyways i trust the gay ppl…… they will find this

[albontology]

it goes without explanation with zhou's new helmet is dope as hell. i will provide explanation anyways.

(above, zhou's helmet design as posted to the KV design twitter)

the central design on zhou's helmet is almost certainly inspired by the traditional craft of mother-of-pearl inlay in lacquerware, a practice which originated in China over 6 thousand years ago, and which has been developed and practiced in discrete forms historically in Korea and Japan alike. (continued under the cut!)

(on the left, a korean (goryeo dynasty) lacquerware stationery box; on the right, a chinese (song dynasty) lacquerware lidded bowl for cosmetics or incense. both photos via the met museum website)

traditionally, lacquerware is created through the refinement of a toxic plant sap into a naturally deep and glossy adhesive coat that is built up and polished often on top of wooden furniture and decorative items, such as chests and jewelry boxes. in the above examples, you can see two types of lacquerware practice.

on the left is mother-of-pearl inlay, which is created through the careful grinding down of tortoise or abalone shell into thin iridescent sheets which are then carefully cut into shape and imbedded into the coats of dark lacquer, being repeatedly covered and then polished down in the lacquer until the shiny shell surface is level with its surroundings. it's both visually stunning and incredibly labor-intensive: for a case like this, there would have been separate artisans making the wooden base box, making the metalware (hinges and clasps) for the box, applying the base layers of lacquer, and then completing the inlay itself.

on the right is (what i understand to be) a predominantly chinese lacquer practice, which is carving into the layers of lacquer to form images in relief. while this practice is not replicated on zhou's helmet, the image selected does display the pattern of the peony flower, which i believe to be the flower depicted in the inlay! the striations of the central petals seem to match zhou's. of course, this is speculative and only based off an amateur's eye, especially considering the motif of scrolling foliage is fairly ubiquitous and somewhat generic in east asian decorative art.

(on the left, zhou's 2024 helmet (detail). on the right, a detail image of a korean chest decorated with mother-of-pearl. zhou's helmet via twitter, right image via the met museum website)

the 'metallic' or 'holographic' effect a lot of people have recognized is a natural property of polished mother-of-pearl: look at the iridescence of the design! while it has been exaggerated to some extent on zhou's helmet (for good effect, i must say), you can clearly see the inspiration when compared side-by-side with a more predominantly mother-of-pearl composition: the variegation between blues, greens, and warmer peachy-reds is mesmerizing.

i really want to drive home how brilliant of a design this is and give the due appreciation to KV Design, who made this helmet for zhou. clearly a lot of thought and creativity went into it, and I can't wait to see it in action. >:D

#zhou guanyu #zg24 #f1

[wildemaven]

meant to be | javier peña

-> pairing: javier peña x f!reader

-> wc: 1645

-> content warnings: 18+ blog; domestic javi, established relationship, unprotected p in v, fluff, talks of starting a family, reader has zero descriptive features

-> a/n: this was posted on my other account and i am moving it here now. it is also a rewrite of an older fic i did with frankie.

masterlist

Fall is settling in nicely in Texas. The days are still warm, but the weekends no longer hold as much daylight as they did weeks ago. 

Everything transitioning into its autumnal journey, your yard drenched in rustic hues and sunshine. 

You and Javier both loved taking advantage of the nicer weather, wanting to soak up as much of it as possible before the shift into a colder season, deciding to spend your evenings on the patio as the days wound down and the sun set behind the pasture on the west side of the ranch.  

Chores were the first thing that needed to be tackled. Divide and conquer seemed to work well for you both. You took on the inside duties of laundry, dusting, and food prep, while Javier managed the outside— mowing, tree trimming, truck washing. 

Bed made with clean sheets, a load of dirty clothes placed into the washer– the previous load hung in the backyard on the clothesline, dinner prepared and waiting– your list of to-do’s dwindling as the day went on. Now you find yourself planted at the sink of dirty dishes, your kitchen window a front row seat to the old barn, your eyes glued on your husband as he washes his truck. 

His striped sky blue shirt encapsulates every detail of his back, sleeves tight around the bulk of his arms, muscles flexing as he scrubs the soapy sponge back and forth across the metal surface– and you thank whoever designed his well-fitted jeans.  A week's worth of dirt slowly slid off the sides of the old ranch truck, a prized possession that had been passed down from Chucho when Javier had decided to take on more responsibilities around the ranch. 

It has been two years since moving into the home Javier grew up in, wanting something big with the hopes of starting a family in the future. Chucho insisted you both move in, stating the house was far too big for just him— he moved into the ranch’s guest house down the dirt road. Memories tucked to every corner of the house, old family photos still hanging in the very spot his Mama placed them.

Javier must sense he’s being watched when he turns towards the kitchen window, catching your eyes on him. His gaze lingers a bit, soap and water dripping from the sponge in his large hand. He shoots you a wink with a smile that makes you instantly weak. 

“Shit!” The mug you had been washing slips from your soapy hands into the water below, water splashing back at you, soaking the thin material of your dress, your attention drawn back to the sink and the remaining dishes. Somehow Javier still makes you flustered after all these years with just a simple look thrown your way. 

Glancing back out the window again to find Javier is no longer there, the suds freely dripping off the truck door and sponge discarded on the ground. The creak of the screen door lets you know exactly where your husband is as you proceed to dry the drinking glasses and place them in the cupboard. His shuffling around in the living room does little to help you know what he’s up to. 

“Javi?” You call out to him as you finish putting away the last of the plates and bowls, wiping the counter off before you go in search of your husband. 

The slight crackle of a record starting makes you aware of his location– the living room. His old collection of records and record player had been boxed away in the attic after he moved away. Last Spring, while you were putting away the winter blankets, you stumbled upon his music collection– something from nearly every genre. You pulled everything down one weekend while he was busy in town with Chucho, having everything set up on the bookcase and a record going when he got home. It became a habit that one of you would slip on a new record, windows open allowing the breeze to carry the songs throughout the house. 

A familiar tune begins, it instantly brings a smile to your face.

“Wise men say...”

The low timber of his voice sends a tingle down your spine any time he sings your wedding song. For such a reserved man, who refuses to indulge in karaoke, he jumps at any chance to serenade you within the walls of your home— one of the many things you love about him.

A set of arms wrap around you, welcoming you back from your walk down memory lane, pulling you against his chest as he begins to move about the kitchen with you. Your bodies swaying together as the music continues, his face nuzzled in close to your cheek as he hums along with the song.

“Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be…”

Your body leans into him, the rest of the chores fully abandoned as you both waver about the kitchen, savoring how easy it is to create new memories in your home.

“You sure know how to get out of chores Peña.” You tell him just as he spins you around so you’re facing him, looping your arms around his neck while his hands settle on your back— Javier singing along completely ignoring your comment. 

“If I’m not mistaken Querida, I’m pretty sure you were hardly putting an effort into yours.” He teases you before grabbing your hand to send you twirling around. You can’t contain your laughter, living for these spontaneous moments of ease with the man you’re so completely head over heels for. Your body is pulled back into his, resuming the energetic flow between the two of you. A sweet rhythm of bliss now strumming through your body as you melt into his arms. 

“Hmm, I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Hiding your smirk into his warm neck, knowing full well what he’s referring to. 

“That wasn’t you gawking at me through the window—“

“I was not gawking, Javi!” As you playfully pat his chest. “I was just admiring the view.” 

“You were in fact gawking. I think I clocked you at 10 minutes from the first moment I noticed you hadn’t moved.”

“You are so exaggerating!” He’s definitely not wrong though, it’s hard to pull your eyes away from such a thing of beauty. 

“How about we take this to the bedroom, Querida– and I’ll show you exaggeration!” He taunts into your ear. 

 “Javier! Your truck is half washed in the driveway— and I know you’re going to be pissed about the soap drying on it right now. Plus, I already made the bed.” 

He’s dragging you back towards the stairs that lead to the bedroom, his infectious smirk displayed across his stupid handsome face, your body doing little to stop itself from his magnetic pull. 

“I’ll just wash it again. I’ll even set a chair up for you to admire up close. Get you one of those ice cold beers too.” He says as he falls back into the bed, pulling your body on top of his. 

“And I’m pretty sure this won’t be the last time we dirty these sheets this weekend…” His voice muffled against your neck, his lips planting kiss after kiss as he pleads his case– you easily succumb to his antics.

His hands work at the line of buttons that trail down the front of your dress, your own undoing his buckle before working at the button and zipper of his jeans– he hisses as your hands hastily move over bugle straining behind his jeans. 

Your dress is open and hanging off your shoulders as you slowly sink down on Javier’s cock, the stretch of him a welcomed adjustment, his length hitting something delicious as you settle at the base of him. 

“Fuck, Javi!!” Hands splayed over Javier’s firm chest for support, your head thrown back as a rapturous whine pours out into the room, a slight bounce to your breasts as you move— the cups of your bra pulled down, the cool air has your nipples pebbled and tight. Javier is taken by your angelic state— you're a sight to be seen. 

Javier’s fingers are digging into the meat of your thighs, the slow stuttering roll of your hips as you move over his cock has him worked up faster than he has anticipated. 

“Querida— Shit! Baby, I’m not gonna last— you look so good riding my cock like that!” His hips bucking up at the feeling of your cunt clenching around him. 

“I’m right there with you, Amor!” 

A few swipes over your throbbing clit and a string of quick thrusts, both of you cresting the euphoric peak in unison. 

You collapse on top of Javier, a strong arm wraps around your waist, a hand cupping your neck, Javier determined to keep you as close as possible— you fully melting into his touch. 

Breathing ragged and hearts racing— bodies perfectly satiated and filled with an intense love for each other. 

“I should probably get up and get dinner started. That should be plenty of time for you to rewash the truck.” You don’t show any signs of actually doing so, too relaxed to care about finishing the rest of your chores. 

“Or— we can just lay here a little longer. Save the food and truck washing for tomorrow. We can go into town later and get dinner instead.”

“A man after my heart. I’d marry you if I wasn’t already.” He rolls you off him onto your back, hands roaming over your dewy skin as he kisses you slowly. 

The lull of the record player echoes through the house as the music fades out, clothes and sheets are thrown about the bedroom, the day’s plans forgotten as you both seek out a more exhilarating afternoon. 

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x f!reader #wildemaven writes #pedro pascal

[bra1n-c4ncer]

Ok so here is a detailed ref sheet of my Sun and Moon designs for the au:

They can now emote a little bit more with their faceplate: Eyes are fully articulated with eyelids, the swirl that acts as their eyebrow is fully mobile, outer mouth plates are switched for a silicone layer and underneath, for stability, is an aluminum alloy that allows for a little bit extra movement. They are still stuck smiling unfortunately, but they can control how wide or crooked it is most of the time.

Hardware:

Their back wiring is now covered by a small metalic box that's waterproof. They needed that long ago anyway. They have "retractable claws" that are there more for show than anything else. Yes, they are kind of sharp but they can't exactly rip flesh off of bones. They were installed more or less to make moon look intimidating in case he comes upon an intruder on his patrols or while nap time. (Like it matters anyway, they are literally animatronics. Made out of metal.)

They can make a few soundboard effects from their voicebox. Why? They are jesters and they are caretakers. Entertainment honey.

They are directly connected to the internet as long as a wifi router is nearby. Also they can connect to bluetooth devices. The backup memory and RAM memory in their AI was upgraded aswell because let's be honest, how could they save all those guest profiles, children's preferences, allergies, special needs, intruder profiles etc.? deleting old information because "they are just some old files that we don't need anymore!" Is not the best way to approach it.

Software:

Unique features:

Sun: His rays can tilt 90° on each axis, they can retract but they cannot spin unfortunately (honestly it would be kind of hard to make it possible considering the amount of wiring inside his flat faceplate). He has pupils, they are just not visible in a brightly lit room, wich is ironic in a way or another, but that can be used to his advantage oftentimes.

The small embroidery on his pants was a last second detail he wanted to be added just on his design, the technician didn't ask why and he still won't dare to ask.

Moon: His hat and pants are made from the same material. The cape acts as a back-up blanket: it preserves heat and also can be cooled down easily. It was originally intended for aesthetic purposes only but after a little session of fuck around and find out the technician figured that the cape can fit 2-3 toddlers underneath.

The cape and hoodie parts have little magnets on the inside part of the textile, (they were supposed to be pins but because of another "accident" that idea was scratched) wich hold the two pieces together neatly and secure.

Now you may wonder: "Well then, how can Moon use his wire if that cape is in the way?" Good question! I literally have no idea, but he does it somehow.

That is all for this post, for now at least. If you have more questions feel free to leave me an ask! Also I will update this post once I make more references and sketches :)

#fnaf daycare attendant #sun fnaf #fnaf moon #daycare attendant fnaf #fnaf au #dca au #mentally eclipsed au

[ashlynniis-bracketeers]

UNCHAINED SANGUINEOUS HEARTMAKER {Guilty Gear}

Riding the high of a resounding Epiphany.

...Did I pull another "Desdinova" purely out of sheer A.B.A hopium? (I kept the lines sketchy, though, because I could not be arsed to try and mimic Strive's linework style again after the pain from last time ahjsdgajhsdgadk)

Yes. Yes I did.

So, those Season 3 character survey results, huh? The A.B.A hopium is real. I really do wonder what they'd do with her if she was brought to Strive, so I decided to try my hand at a "Strive-ified" A.B.A design.

Make sure to check under the cut for the "concept art" I made + their associated information.

So, design background info:

So, she's a... weirdo homunculus, right? An artificial human, created by a mad scientist she never met, so she was alone and never really learned how to... "people". That key in her head also keeps on reminding me of the bolts lodged in the sides of pop-culture-ified Adam's (Frankenstein's monster) head. She's also desperately trying to find a human(oid) body for the demon/magical foci Paracelsus/Flament Nagel, who she is deeply in love with. Artificially-created human, medical themes, artificial human form, deeply in love...

So what if she decided that, with her attempts at finding a body for him repeatedly failing (XX endings don't count, XX's canonicity is completely FUCKED lmao), why doesn't she just... create one herself instead?

In other words, the creation becomes the creator. Lil' bit of "Bride of Frankenstein" thrown in, if the guy making the bride (or in this case, groom) was the monster itself.

So, making her into a key-axe-wielding mad scientist homunculus.

I tried to make her pose reminiscent of a dance move, specifically a "dip".

I hope you like it!

GG ABA Strive fandesign sheet 01

The first drawing I got done of my design for A.B.A (featuring a base-shapes Paracelsus for scale). Featuring her color palette (F1 is base flesh, F2 is scarring, H is hair, B is bandages, C1 is primary coat color, C2 is secondary coat color, C3 is tertiary coat color, E is "edges", M1 is one of the metal colors, A is "accents", M2 is the second metal color, and the square below that is the eye colors), weird ragged patchwork "lab-coat", boot details, "branding", and some of the text on her design.

- The phrase printed along the front edge of her coat (and the heels of her boots) is "LOCK&SEE" (the "&" stylized to look like/replaced with a keyhole symbol), a spin on the phrase "Lock and Key", fitting with her obsession with keys and tendency towards twisting sayings/phrases into mondegreens. Also implies hiding something.

- The brand on the back of her coat is meant to look like the coffin shape on the back of Paracelsus's head during Moroha Mode, with the nose hole and right eye hole visible. Text above it reads "PARACELSUS" (with the P and R stylized to have curved horns in the back like MM Para), and the text underneath reads "FLAMENT NAGEL" (with similar "horn" stylization on the F).

- The scarring is damage from her not wearing proper protective gear during her experiments (because she doesn't seem like one to wear proper PPE lmao), much of it taking up most of the left side of her upper torso/arm (meant to mirror Strive Faust's stitching).

- She's both grimy and very... "DIY", so her stitching is very hodgepodge.

- The text along the stitching on the back of her coat reads "The More The Moodier.", a play on one of her mondegreen win-quotes in XX (against I-No: "People say "the more the gloomier", but she's just too much to take...") but with the same alliteration as "the more the merrier" which it was derived from.

- The brand on the right side of her shorts is the same as on her back, but without the "FLAMENT NAGEL" and with "PARACELSUS" underneath instead of above.

- The key markings (gloves, boots) all have the same key-blade shape as Paracelsus.

- I had some trouble figuring out some of her colors, as they differed between the sprites (blue metal, glove. and trim) and official artwork (dark brown metal + glove, blue trim), so I decided to have dark brown for the keys and dark blue for the studded trim and left glove.

- The laces of her boots and the buttons on her coat are meant to resemble Para's mouth stitches

- Made her head-key/neck keys have a little skull decoration similar to some of her XX art (it's very inconsistent).

GG ABA Strive fandesign sheet 02

The second "Strive-ified" A.B.A design sheet I made.

- Both of the large gloves look the same, with the red bands and Paracelsus-blade key markings.

- The dark blue left-hand glove is (mostly) the same. I like to think that it's her "woobie", what with her tendency to get attached to inanimate objects.

- The dark blue cropped tank-top is meant to only be visible in Moroha. The text reads "MOCK&KEY" (the "&" stylized to look like/replaced with a stylized keyhole symbol, the top part of the keyhole meant to look like a coffin), another spin on "Lock and Key" like the previously-mentioned "LOCK&SEE" compounded with her believing herself to be superior to humans. Moroha is what was locked-up.

GG ABA Strive fandesign sheet 03

Third sheet I made.

- Noting specific design changes during Moroha. Coat opens + key "eyes" gain red glow.

- Design for her head + neck keys.

- Design for her bloodpacks. Text reads "FRASCO". Symbol underneath meant to look like a "flask" shape made out of an upside-down keyhole.

GG ABA Strive fandesign sheet 04 (Para)

The fourth sheet I made, featuring Paracelsus and his colors.

I honestly didn't change much lmao. His design is already weird by GG standards, mostly just tweaked some things.

- Made his eyes asymmetrical. Right has small iris and no pupil, left has beady pupil. Wanted to make him look "cartoony (western) neurotic/nervous" while hinting at his "main" glowy eye in Moroha being his right eye.

- I blurred/smudged the blood along the bottom edge to imply that A.B.A dragging him around wore away some of it.

- I added some spikes to his collar for a "punk" look, which glow red in Moroha.

- I kept his mouth stitches in Moroha. The mouth-corner stitches remain, while the middle stitches are tied around his left horn.

GG ABA Strive fandesign sheet 05

The final sheet I made, featuring mechanic ideas, "meta" stuff, and a design for repurposing an older move into a reversal super.

- Non-replenishable resources don't really fly in Strive, so I decided to make them replenishable through an alternate version of Bonding (a.k.a Keygrab). One Keygrab variant for Moroha, one Keygrab variant for a bloodpack. Starts off with no bloodpacks. Max three bloodpacks at a time. Functionality basically the same as XX.

- Turned Altercation (i.e. Enter Goku Moroha) into a Moroha-exclusive reversal super. Goku Moroha is not something that flies by modern fighting game characters, let alone Strive, so GM would definitely get axed. Still keeping Altercation as an absolute weirdo of a move, taking different resources depending on how much she has of each.

- Not sure what to actually do with Moroha's function/moveset, but having an "Install" state is the big thing that defines A.B.A's playstyle, so she'd probably keep at least base Moroha.

- Evidence: Concealment becomes a full reversal that only hits one hit as opposed to three, because most people cancel it after the first hit anyway lmao

#Guilty Gear #A.B.A #Paracelsus #GG Aba #Guilty Gear Aba #GG Paracelsus #Guilty Gear Paracelsus #Guilty Gear A.B.A #GG A.B.A #Brackets Draws #Brackets's Art #long post #fanart #fan art

[cityof2morrow]

20 Grand Piano Recolors

Published: 7-23-2023 | Updated: 9-28-2023

SUMMARY “With the highest quality soundboard, the quickest key action, and richest tone, the Bosenklavier Model B will not disappoint. Endorsed by world-reknown pianist Sergei Dubinsky, it's certainly good enough for your wedding.”

Here are 20 recolors of the Bosenklavier Model B grand piano (Bon Voyage EP). Options include metal from the Cubic Dynamics store set (EA/Maxis) in CuriousB’s colors (Any Color You Like, 2010) – 17 clean swatches and 2 distressed/dirty ones. There is also a discrete concrete recolor. Lastly, the sheet music and music book have been gussied up a bit.

DETAILS Requires Bon Voyage or higher. DOWNLOAD (choose one) RECOLORS from SFS | from MEGA SHEET MUSIC/BOOK DEFAULT from SFS | from MEGA TEMPLATE (PSD) from SFS | from MEGA COMPATIBILITY Select items from the TS2 Maxis-Match Lingerie Store Set (@somedaythesun, 2023) pull their textures from the grand piano and will use these recolors as well. *If you use the gussied up black/white files, these will appear twice in the design window.

CREDITS Thanks: ChocolateCity & The Kit Kat Crew, SimPE. Sources: Any Color You Like (CuriousB, 2010), Cubic Dynamics (EA/Maxis), Quake 4 (Activision, 2005), Quake 4 Textures (Philip Klevestav, 2013; 2010).

#ts2cc #sims2cc #ts2downloads #ts2recolors #co2recolors #bellabrand

[karahofthedawn]

You Owe Us One (part 8) - The Room of Requirement

Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Hi all! I believe this will be the last of the series, as I stated in my previous post. I may still write some Fred and George stuff, but not exactly in this format.

Thank you all who have read, liked and reblogged my stuff. It's been a huge encouragement for me and I'm so glad I decided to post on here.

Anyways.. you wanted kink - you got it! Enjoy.

Synopsis: Fred and George have been storming up a plan for Y/N and it's finally ready. They take you to the Room of Requirement where a surprise awaits.

Words: 4.6k

Contains: lots of detailed sex. Anal, vaginal, oral. Some bondage, wax play, edging, collars and lots of praise.

The candle light from the Great Hall flickers in the hallway that you are sneaking off in. The aroma of the delicious dinner from tonight fills the air, making your stomach growl with protest. You hadn’t expected to meet so early in the evening with Fred and George. Most of the time you’d meet with them after most of the students had gone to bed, but not tonight. They approached you at the Hufflepuff table and ushered you away with them.

Even now, as you walk side by side with them, you have no idea what the sense of urgency is about. The few times that you attempted to pry an answer out of them, they would merely glance at each other and smirk.

At first, you think maybe they’re leading you to the dark passageways. Then you pass near the blind folded woman’s statue, go up several floors and head towards the astronomy tower. The further you go, the more thrown off you are. It wasn’t until you reached a particularly empty corridor when they held out their arms to stop you.

Fred speaks with a twinge of excitement in his voice. “Here we are.”

George takes your hand in his. His gaze is set forward at a plain looking stone wall. You squint and tilt your head at it, trying to decipher what is so special about this location. He squeezes your hand and looks down at you. “Close your eyes, Y/N,”

“Why?” You ask cautiously. 

They refer to each other again, then Fred says calmly, “just trust us.”

“I promise,” George adds. “It’ll be worth it.”

You sigh, knowing full well that they aren’t going to tell you until you follow their directions. You reluctantly shut your eyes and allow them to guide you forward. Then they turn you around and head back in the same direction. This happens a few times, and you’re starting to get annoyed with this whole situation. If they dragged you up here and away from dinner just for a prank, then you’re going to be furious.

“There it is,” Fred exclaims, and your eyes open.

In front of you, where the plain stone wall was, is a large wooden door. The twins look at you, then back at the door.

“What is this?” You say with astonishment. “This definitely wasn’t here before.”

“No,” George explains, “it only appears when you really need something.”

“The Room of Requirement,” Fred adds. “Only a few others know of its existence.”

“Need something,” you repeat. “What’s inside?”

“That’s the best part,” Fred replies.

“And you're about to find out,” George finishes. His fingers tighten around your palm. "Go ahead, Y/N, open it.”

You hesitate with your hand on the latch, unsure if this is just a joke or not. If they are telling the truth, what exactly is it that the three of you need? Fred places a firm hand on your shoulder and you can feel his fingers twitch in excitement as you finally begin tugging it open.

It is only when you step into the room that you truly take in what's in front of you. There are floating candles lining both the left and right sides. The walls are a deep red and accented by deep gold. In the middle lies a large bed with velvet sheets, a golden metal headboard that has the most elegant design of swirls that form into a lion's head. 

You hear the door close behind you, and you swing around to face the brothers. Their eyes are focused on you as they move towards you.

"It took us a long time to perfect it," Fred explains as he pulls at his tie.

"We had to be specific on exactly what we needed," George says and gazes around the room. "What we thought you would want, too."

As you reflect on what they’re saying, you notice a small dark wooden table sitting at the entrance. A black box with a piece of parchment is peeking from underneath it.

This entire situation feels like a dream that you’re going to wake up from any minute. There was an air of mystery and tension that you can’t fully comprehend. The brothers have been planning this? For how long and why? Isn’t what they had in their secret room in the passageways similar to this? Even so, there was no denying the elegance and style within these four walls.

“What is it?” You ask with your fingertips grazing the top of the engraved wooden box.

George takes your hand and leads you across the floor. "Before you open it, there's some things we wanted to go over." You follow him, stepping right to the edge of the large plush bed. He sits and pats firmly on the velvet sheet, leaving a bit of a wrinkle behind. "Please, sit."

You perch yourself next to him and try to read his expression, to get any sort of clue to what they have planned. Surprises were never your forte, but lately you haven't had much of a choice.

Fred joins to the right of you and brushes your hair delicately from your shoulder. He has the mysterious black box sitting on his lap. You consider reaching over to grab it, but George places his fingertips on your wrist.

"We want you to be ours," George says so directly that it makes the blood immediately rush to your cheeks.

You stammer out, "I-I'm.. sorry?"

"You heard him right," Fred whispers, leaving a trail of kisses up your shoulder to the base of your neck. "We want you to be ours."

"Fully ours," George adds. "Would you like that?"

You try to focus on the question as Fred's lips find the crook of your neck. "Do you mean.. like a formal boyfriend and girlfriend situation?"

Fred hums as he licks and nips. "Mhm." His teeth sink in, and his warm mouth envelopes your reddening skin.

You squirm and squeeze George's hand. "I want that," you say quickly and lean into his brother's touch.

The black box gets pushed into your lap now. Fred removes his lips and watches you intently.

You find the edge of the lid with your thumbs and begin lifting it, the heart in your chest is pounding so hard that it threatens to burst right out of your chest. With both hands you carefully pull the item out of the box. The candle light glows off of the golden heart charm that dangles from the crimson leather strap.

“Is this a..” You take a sharp breath in and look at George. “A collar?”

He nods and takes it from your hands. “It’s not just a collar.”

“Merlin’s beard, no.” Fred laughs and reaches out to touch the object. “It’s made specifically for you.”

“I don’t understand,” you say with a frown.

Fred kneels before you, then begins to undo a few of the buttons from your shirt. "Let us explain, then."

George wraps his arm around your waist. The bridge of his nose bumps against your temple, his warm breath on your cheek. "Since the moment we met you, we knew that you were something special to us."

"So special," Fred repeated his brother's words. He stops unbuttoning right before your bra would be exposed. He looks at you, his expression hungry with lust. "So we made something to show your loyalty."

"Show my loyalty?" You ask, trying to look bravely into his fully dilated pupils. 

He nods as George runs a finger from your chin to the start of your cleavage. 

"It's not that we don't trust you," George explains with a softness in his voice. "We just thought it would be, well.."

"Fun," Fred finishes. His eyes flick from the collar in your palms to your bare neck. "But there's more to it than that."

"A few stipulations, of course. But it also benefits all parties involved."

You look down at the crimson collar. "Stipulations?"

Fred gets to his feet and pulls you up with him. They both lead you to the large mirror that hangs on the wall next to the bed. You must have missed that coming in, unless it had just appeared there when they needed it. They both stand close behind you, and George lifts the collar to your neck. The cool leather meets your reddened skin.

"Look at it now," Fred instructs. You look up and see a delicate golden locket resting on your bosom, though you could still feel the collar wrapped around you. "Nobody will know except us."

"Wait," you say quickly and stare at their reflections. "You want me to wear this outside of this room?"

"Darling," George says sweetly, making your chest tighten. "We want you to wear it all the time."

"Think of it as a contract of our devotion," Fred smiles.

You turn around to face them directly. So many feelings are floating around your head that it's difficult to pick one to focus on. You want to be theirs. It's what you've always wanted. Pushing between them, you pass by and sit on the edge of the bed again.

They follow you and kneel down in front of you. A hand on each of your knees, they stare up at you.

George breaks the silence with, "Freddie, I think we should tell her the benefits, don't you?"

"Oh, I do," he says with a smirk. "This also amplifies touch."

"Ours, to be exact. Only ours."

You glance between them and then down at the floor. "How amplified?"

George reaches up and tilts your head up with his thumb. You meet his amber colored eyes as he whispers, "I think it's better if you find out for yourself."

You swallow the lump in your throat and grasp the collar, lifting it toward your neck. They both stop you, then Fred pulls out the slip of parchment that had come with the box. 

He hands it to you and points at the words. "This is a binding spell. Once you say this, the collar will remain on until, well,"

"Until you don't want to be ours anymore," George explains, the corner of his lips pulling down with just mention of it.

You nod, taking the slip in your fingers and reading the line to yourself. "Do I just say this out loud?"

"Yes, but you have to mean it," Fred says.

"Fully," George adds with a serious tone.

"Right." You clear your throat and lift the parchment so that the candle light illuminates it completely. You close your eyes for a moment and dig deep for how you feel about the brothers. You think back on all of the tenderness, kindness, and ecstasy that they've brought you. They individually bring different qualities to the table, and together they make them a perfect match for you.

Most of your life you've been unsure about most things, but not this. You want to be theirs. Fully.

You open your eyes and look at them each individually as you speak out the binding spell with confidence. "I solemnly swear that my body and mind is only yours."

With the last word, the collar flies out of your hand and fastens itself around your neck. You immediately panic and try prying it off of you, but it doesn't budge. 

George grabs your hands and coos, "it's okay, you're okay. It's part of it."

You take a deep breath and allow yourself to get accustomed to the new sensation. Fred reaches out and runs his finger over the leather and the tiny golden heart that dangles from it. 

"You look so hot wearing it," he breathes out and slides a finger under the metal loop. With a gentle tug he pulls you towards him as he leans forward, meeting you in the middle with a hungry kiss.

Your entire body reacts to him immediately. It's as if volts of lightning spread through your veins, setting your body on fire with lust. You gasp loudly. He smiles and lunges forward to pin you on your back. His finger remains pulling the collar, as he hovers over you.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" George calls to you, leaning on the mattress while propped up on one arm.

Before you can reply, the twin on top of you begins kissing down your neck to your collarbone. Every single touch makes you feel on fire. The leather around your neck pulsates as if it's alive and feeding your ecstacy, kindling and breathing life into the flames. You're digging your nails so hard into his shoulders that it leaves little crescent moon shapes behind.

Fred dips down, slides his arm underneath you and lifts you effortlessly. He crawls with you a foot or so and drops your head onto an inviting plush pillow. You stare up at him in a daze as he begins undoing his tie.

If just kissing them makes you this weak, what would all the other stuff be like? You can already feel that you're soaking through your panties, and they've barely touched you.

You're snapped out of your thoughts as Fred grabs both of your arms and lifts them above your head. "I know this must be a lot for you." The cold metal meets your skin and you flinch. He crosses your wrists as he wraps the Gryffindor tie around them. "But I'm going to make sure you enjoy every last bit of it."

His chest meets yours and he tangles his fingers in your hair. You try latching onto him, but your arms remain tightly fastened to the lion headboard. His lips linger over yours, his hot breath on your skin. He's so close that you can see yourself reflected in his dinner plate pupils.

"You're mine," he says so lowly, that it almost comes out as a growl. You shiver and nod your head. "Say it, darling. Say it for me."

"I'm yours, Freddie," you cry out as he pulls your head back by your hair. The pleasure rolls down your spine and you involuntarily curve against him. "Please, touch me."

George's voice comes in from the side of the bed where he's watching. "She's being so good for you."

"She is," Fred laughs and draws closer to your face. "I think she deserves a reward for her dedication." His fingertips dig into your ribs and he forces your legs apart with his. "Don't move, just lay right there for me."

You fidget your arms and look up the red and gold tie around your wrists. You can still slide up and down on the swirling metal bar, but only an inch or two. You look back to the brothers who are now almost completely naked, aside from their tight underwear that can barely contain their erections.

Fred is on you again, but he's delicately unbuttoning your shirt. Your lacy black and yellow bra is revealed as he swipes the fabric to the side. He carefully slides your skirt down your thighs and throws it across the room. You lay there, completely vulnerable and exposed.

"Your body is beautiful," George comments as he runs a gentle finger down your bare side. You try to close your legs but his brother's hips prevent you.

Fred leans over you again and smirks. "Bloody hell, I could get used to seeing you tied up like this."

His hands slip under your bra and tenderly caress your nipples. You crane your head back into the bed and bite back another moan. You can't believe what this is doing to you, every part of your body is hyper aware. He squeezes your breasts and rolls the hardened nubs between his fingers.

You lift your head to gasp and he meets your lips with his. His large wet tongue probes your mouth and twists with yours. Every moan that escapes you is forcibly muffled by his mouth.

The mattress on the bed shifts, and George is next to you now. Fred breaks the kiss, just for his brother to take his place. Your panties are moved to the side and you feel something warm sliding up your slit. You can see him holding his hard cock from your peripheral, running it just on the cusp of your needing pussy.

"Fuck Y/N, you're soaked," Fred groans and meets your clit with the head of his erection.

You shake and let out a sharp whimper. Just the slightest contact almost sends you over the edge. You already want to beg for release as he teases your opening. The headboard rattles as you wriggle in your restraints. Between his head slowly stretching your walls and George's tongue rolling against yours, you're overwhelmed with ecstacy. 

Fred thrusts forward and enters you fully, which makes you throw your head back and scream. George gently strokes the hair from your flushed face, staring lovingly down at you.

"Freddie," he says calmly. "Let her ease into it."

Fred does as he's told and keeps his cock buried deep inside of you. Your walls clench around him as he pulsates, leaving you helplessly struggling underneath him. You can feel every single inch of him stretching you out.

"I don't want you to cum until we tell you," George instructs while his hands tenderly stroke your face. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," you reply sharply as Fred pulls out a bit.

"Good girl," George coos before beginning to kiss you again.

Fred starts up again slowly and you shake uncontrollably beneath him. You are desperately gasping for air, but are cut short when his thumb meets your slick clit.

"Fuck!" You gasp, but immediately have George's tongue in your mouth again.

Then Fred moves again, but achingly slow. His thumb grazing your needing nub, ever so often adding pressure to make you moan into his brother's mouth. Your legs quake and close around him as an orgasm approaches. You aren't sure how you're supposed to hold back and signal when you're close. You focus, trying to pull your hips away, and break George's deep kiss.

You're on the brink and about to give in completely when George lifts his mouth from yours.

"Please! I'm close!" You cry out as another tremor rolls down your body.

Fred lifts his finger and stops thrusting. "Not yet," he says firmly. He picks up his pace again after you relax your body.

You whimper and look up at George, who is watching you closely. The freckles on his face are accentuated by his messy ginger hair that tickles you when he leaves trails of kisses up your chest. 

"Hey Fred," he says wistfully as he watches your eyes roll back back into your skull.

"Yeah?" Fred grunts as he slams into you, making you gasp out in surprise.

George runs a hand over your bouncing tits. "Think I could have a go at her?"

Without another word, he pulls out suddenly. You pant and writhe from the lack of stimulation. You had almost hit your peak multiple times, and it was making you hazy and needier than ever.

Your hands are freed at once by Fred, then you're immediately flipped over on your stomach. You push yourself up with your aching wrists. Once your vision returns, large hands with a long flat object come into focus. They reach for your neck and you hear a faint 'clink' sound. 

Fred is sitting against the headboard, his cock out and still gleaming from your slick. In his hand is a leash, which he pulls and guides you toward him. You shakily crawl between his legs. Then you feel George behind you. His palms resting on your bare ass. The tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

With a tug of the collar, Fred forces you towards his face. "Look at me," he demands as his brother slides inside of you. Your eyes start to go out of focus so he grabs you by the hair. "Bloody hell, you're a mess right now. Just look at you."

George's hips press against your ass and you know he's fully inside. Your walls stretch and strain against his size, making your eyes tear up from both pleasure and pain. Your arms shake and you fall to your elbows as you cry out.

Fred takes this opportunity to guide your mouth onto his throbbing cock. You do so without hesitation, you want to be allowed to cum. You want to be good so they finally give you the release you need more than anything. Your tongue teases his head and shaft, then he forces himself down your throat. He holds you there with the leash wrapped around his white knuckled fist.

You gag and choke as George slams from behind. Your juices begin dripping down your thigh with each thrust. You love being between them. You love letting them use your body to please them.

"Merlin's Beard, your mouth is incredible. You're doing such a good job," Fred groans and releases the tension on the leash. You unsheath his cock from your throat and cough a few times. Once you catch your breath, you go right back to working on him again, trying to push yourself to leave him in your throat even longer.

George pants and grabs your hips with force as he thrusts into you. "I think we should let her cum, what do you think?"

Fred nods, then rests his head against the metal lion and moans. "She's earned it."

Your legs are pried apart and George snakes his arm around your waist. The moment he finds your clit, your throat closes and constricts around Fred’s erection. He moans and grabs you by the hair, making your head bob up and down slowly. Your legs and core trembles as a finger expertly circles the top of your cunt. It doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak. Right as it hits you like a shockwave, Fred pulls you up by your collar and kisses you.

“Yes, that’s it! Cum for us, darling,” Fred encourages as you crumble pathetically onto his chest.

Just like that, you reach your peak again and again. It was like a wave crashing onto the shore one right after the other. Your entire mind goes blank as the flood of pleasure releases throughout your body in a way you have never experienced before. You hold onto Fred’s chest and look up at him with pleading eyes as the overstimulation of multiple orgasms melts your brain. You love being theirs. You love every part of this.

George stops and withdraws from you. Before you can even fully take in all that you’re feeling, Fred pulls you to sit directly on his cock. You straddle him at once, sliding down his shaft until this tip of him reaches your cervix. He fits you perfectly. They both do. He holds the leash in one hand while his other arm restraints your waist against him.

Fred remains buried in you as his brother approaches from behind holding a floating candle. George takes you from him, lifting you by your shoulder so that your back lays flush against his chest.

“Have you ever tried melted candle wax?” He whispers in your ear.

You can barely even comprehend what he says when you feel a burning sensation down your chest. You jump with shock as hot wax drips over your tits and stomach, slowly drying as it travels to your hips.

“Watch where you’re aiming that,” Fred warns, bucking his hips up and making you instantly crumble backwards.

“Sorry, sorry,” George laughs and tilts the candle so that another round of white wax pours over your breast and nipple. The pain isn’t as jarring this time, and it fades away just as quickly. “You really are perfect,” he says to you as you feel your ass being parted.

Fred pulls you down by the leash and holds you flat against his chest, the wax melting and rubbing off as you press together. His arms are tight around you as George pushes himself gently inside your ass. You writhe in pain as he fills you up.

“Good girl, you’re doing great. Just relax for me,” George coaches as his lubed shaft slides in fully. “That’s it, perfect.”

Both of them move in perfect unison, one pulling out while the other pushes in. All the while Fred holds your leash tight so that your face remains close to his. His cheeks are flushed and his mouth slacked open. His eyes remain completely focused on your expressions, taking in every sound you make.

George slaps your ass and grabs you by the hips and plunges himself as deep as possible, pushing you hard against Fred. That sends you over the edge immediately. Your cunt and ass tighten and you scream out. You love it, having both of your holes completely stretched to the limit by them.

It wasn’t too long ago that you would have been embarrassed to be so vulnerable to the twins, but here you are now letting them fuck you stupid. How did you even get to this point? How did they so easily break down your walls?

These thoughts are cut short by another sudden orgasm. Fred curses under his breath and bites his lip as he watches you crumble before him. Tears stream down your face as the tremors of pleasure take over your body. Your legs shake violently and both of the brothers dig their fingers into your sides to hold you steady.

“We are almost there darling, just hold out a little longer for us,” George grunts from behind, his thrusting increasingly getting rougher.

“I-I w-want-” you stutter and plead.

“What do you w-want?” Fred asks breathily, mocking you with a huge grin. He grips your leash, making the pressure increase at the back of your neck. “Tell us.”

You look deep into his amber eyes, seeing the lust and devotion mirrored right back at you. “I w-want you to fill me up.” Your body is being jostled, your tits bouncing as they increase their speed. “Please,” you beg.

Fred pulls you into a hungry kiss, then breaks as he reaches his peak. His hips jut upwards, filling your cunt with his cum to the brim. George follows shortly after, collapsing against your reddened ass cheeks as he spills into you. They’re both grunting and moaning, their grip on you slowly loosening.

George pulls out first and collapses on the bed to your left panting, his arm covering his sweating forehead. Fred lifts you off of him and places you between the both of them. For a few minutes, you all collectively lay there in silence as you recuperate.

The velvet sheets are soft and inviting, definitely more so than the old comforter back at their original spot. You look up at the ceiling and see each of the house crests delicately carved in the gold tiles. This room was beautiful and had so many secrets and details that were waiting to be found.

You curl up to George, your head resting on his heaving chest. Fred wraps his arms around your waist and nestles his face in your hair. You delicately run a finger up George’s neck and hold his cheek with your palm. He turns his head, kisses your forehead and looks into your eyes. You touch the small golden heart that’s dangling from the crimson collar around your neck.

“I hope I never take this off,” you admit with tears welling in your eyes.

“We hope you don’t either,” George says with a smile, reaching up to catch one of your tears with his thumb.

“That’s the last thing we’d want,” Fred adds from behind you and squeezes you tightly.

“Then I won’t,” you say with certainty.

“Good,” George says sweetly and caresses your cheek.

You mean it too. There was more than just lust between the three of you, and it’s something you’ve known from the very beginning. You aren’t sure exactly what the future holds, but you know that you will fight to keep this connection that you have with Fred and George. 

For as long as possible.

Because you are theirs. Fully.

#fred and george weasley #george weasley #fred weasley #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley smut #fred and george weasley smut #fred and george weasley x reader

[papasbaseball]

I wrote a small little Raphael x gn!Tav fluff. Kisses, love you, byeeee.

Green as deep as peacock feathers, red flowing like blood, I work the needle and thread in and out of the fabric. My eyes catch between the door and my embroidery, waiting for him. He never asked for this small sample of my devotion, but I hope that he’ll take it from his pocket after breaking a prisoner and smear the white silk with the stranger’s blood from his face. Punch and pull, I will my cruel design into the weave of the fabric.

The doors break open, the smell of sulfur sending me from my seat. His shoulders are thrown back, a tiger broken free from its enclosure. He clenches and unclenches his fists before hurling a bolt of fire at a bronze vase, gilded in a centuries old fashion. It clatters to the floor the hollow metal

“Vile vermin!” he spits. “To disrespect me in my house!”

Setting aside my work, I go after the still rolling vase. It’s warm to the touch as I set it back on the mantle.

“Is everything alright?” I ask.

A curl of hair untucks itself from behind his ear, smoldering with the anger that pinches creases between his brows. He could be irascible like this, sometimes when his food tasted bland or if the sheets to our bed had not been folded in the way he liked them. However, I’d never seen the fire in his eyes quite that white before.

“If I didn’t need that ungrateful drow I would have skinned them last week,” he says. Approaching the chair where I had sat, the heat leaves his face as he picks up my embroidery. His fingers trace along the fine floss, as if memorizing a war map with important battle lines and details.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” I say, approaching him. “I’m afraid it’s not very good.”

He turns and twist the hoop, squinting at the misaligned threads. “It’s a wonderful… sunset.”

I sigh and turn the hoop back right. “Rose. I told you it wasn’t very good.”

He regards me with those warm brown eyes and I think I spy forgiveness in them. “Of course it is. Maybe a few more details, but you’ll get there.”

His praise wraps me in a warmth to match the blazing fire in the hearth and I bite my lip. “I wanted to repay you. You’ve done so much for me.”

“Is owning your soul not enough?” he says. The embroidery is soon set on the side table and I’m pulled into his lap with ease. “Living in this place is part of your agreement. I did not expect for you to take such a liking to it.”

“I wanted to thank you and be of some use to you again. I liked being out there fighting to please you.” I sigh and rest my head against the smooth brocade of his doublet. “It was nice.”

“Little mouse,” he says, taking my hand in his, “It is enough to please me to end every day in your embrace. I am delighted by your devilish smile, even if you do lack the horns.”

He squeezes my mortal hand and I let myself believe that he might still need me for the smallest of seconds.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #post game #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction

[polarisbear]

there’s a process i like to go through every time i sit down and commit to drawing something more than once (detailed image and text id under the cut)

[image id 1: a sketch page of all of the octopath traveler 2 travelers. there is a row of small full body sketches and a row of bust shots.

image id 2: a sketch page focusing on a small ochette redesign and figuring out how to draw partitio.]

[image id 1: a set of sketches of the playable cast of octopath traveler 2. at the top are a row of small full bodies of the travelers. below are busts of them. agnea bristarni is clapping her hands together with a smile; she has sun-kissed skin and freckles. ochette is excitedly running to the right. throné anguis has her arms crossed as she frowns. castti florenz looks off screen with worry. hikari ku’s hair blows in the wind as he looks upset; he has an olive skin tone. partitio yellowil is giving his best smirk as he winks with his hand on his chin. he’s black, referencing his concept art. temenos mistral has a hand on his chin as he gives a mysterious smile. osvald v. vanstein looks disgruntled and like he desperately needs sunlight.

image id 2: a sketch page mostly focusing on ochette and patritio. there is a sketch of ochette’s back as she stretches, there are also small drawings of other beastlings. there is a simple reference sheet of ochette as she poses, her design slightly altered. her hair turns black at the tips, and it’s put up in loose twin tails. her clothes have a more “finished” look, and all of the leather material has been refined. there is more beading detailing on her. the right side of the sketch page is just partitio headshots with different face angles and hairstyles.

text id: “What if. Jacked.” “fluffy face :)” “beading! Important Toto’haha craft” “She re-dyes her dress periodically” “Beastlings can look like any canine/feline Can live anywhere” “Toto’haha is known for impressive leather-working (bc of all the animal hides they have)” “Stripes break up form -> harder to follow” “Claws. bc cool” “Recent trading = metal weaponry is pretty commonplace” “gladiator sandals but fr” “becomes black at the tips” “didn’t notice the eye shape went down (looks extra smiley lol)” “dashing young man (… phoenix wright”)” “silver rings from home” “High pony for w/o hat” “Low pony for hat” “double pony layering trick (from Agnea!)”]

#octopath traveler 2 #octopath 2 #octopath traveler ii #ot2 #octopath traveler #octopath #agnea bristarni #ochette #throné anguis #castti florenz #hikari ku #partitio yellowil #temenos mistral #osvald v. vanstein #art archive #woo boy. okay. yeesh.

[inviisiiblelee]

Vintage

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Word Count: 2,224 Rating: Teen and Up Audience Relationship: Alastor/Vox Additional Tags:

Mentioned Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Mentioned Velvet (Hazbin Hotel), Vox is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), One-Sided Attraction, Unrequited Love, Lost Love, Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Fluff, porting from AO3, link included above if prefered.

Notes: An entry for Tumblr RadioStatic Week Day 2: Vintage. I'm late by a week, but I will be writing for each prompt anyway. This definitely falls much more under the unrequited vibes. Vox is obsessive.

----------------------------

Glowing red eyes focused on the blueprints on the table. Vox’s hands were deft, gentle with the small pieces he was fitting together in front of him. The blueprints were as detailed as he could think to make them, but he rarely worked with wood products anymore. It had been years, maybe even decades since he had touched the material, especially a rosewood as beautiful as this. He usually worked with metals, able to use his power to work holes of good sizes and engrave himself. But he also hadn’t worked anything by hand in years just as well. The factories produced everything now, and while he often made prototypes of certain products, he still didn’t usually work the material himself anymore. He would put it together and handle the tech parts and the programming. 

But this was a simple wooden build, with only a few moving parts for a reason. Of course, those parts were metal, shiny and well polished brass. Recreating and making things a little more efficient was something he was good at, even if he didn’t do it often. He could cut out a few in between parts in favor of newer, modern pieces, while still maintaining the original effects. He had hired someone especially to make sure the music piece would play properly, and he was able to make those pieces himself with clear instruction. His fingertips could get hot and were easily sharpened, and he was more than familiar with ensuring holes in metal were an appropriate size. Plus, he had several sheets of brass ready in case he did need a few trial runs.

His work bench was covered in wood shavings and dust, the smell of burning fibers. But a few screws, several hours, an infuriating amount of time spent bent over into the light, engraving into the wood with red-hot fingertips and listening to the same little tune over and over again until it was perfectly placed. Vox stepped back to look at the completed box, closed and fully varnished and dried, something he’d done to the pieces days before assembly. The outside looked about the way it should have at the time of the original designs, in the late 1890's or so, clean corners and raised layers. A shiny little keyhole for a simple lock and key to turn and open it. The top lifted up, Vox had taken time to engrave the image of a deer on the inside in the unvarnished wood, grazing on some grass between trees. The inner parts of the box were otherwise everything they needed to be, the disk of brass meant to spin and pluck along a musical comb underneath. It looked perfect, and it put a smile on Vox’s screen, before it fell slightly. He tipped the box over, and there was the false bottom.

With the hollowed space opened up, he picked up a small sheet of paper that he folded into fourths before tucking it in and placing the bottom over it. A screw in each corner and it was hidden away. It was … unlikely to ever be found. But that was fine. 

Another quick set of checks before Vox gathered the music box, tucked it away in a bag, and left his little workshop area. He didn’t use the room often, it branched off of his office, something he’d built into the VoxTech building but hadn’t used almost at all since the early 2000’s. Sometimes he would build a thing or two, but that was typically at his desk, not in there. It was fairly late in the night, nothing unusual for him to be up at, but a time he knew the majority of the building would be shut off, Valentino and Velvette probably having already retired to bed. So it was very easy to make his way out of the tall towering office without any incident. He walked with purpose, entered one of his smaller vehicles that would garner almost no attention, and made his way to the inner city. 

Vox parked a few blocks from the destination, intending to walk the rest of the way. He didn’t have a clear idea of why he was really doing this. He didn’t … have a good reason. This was silly, a ridiculously sentimental impulse to have indulged for the last week. He supposed he thought he would give it up halfway through, and even now, he thought maybe he would make it to the front door, and then he would abandon ship. He could still go back. Destroy the thing, or repurpose it. 

But no, he was walking his way right up to that stupid Hazbin Hotel, and stood at the double doors for a little while. It was two in the morning, and it was unlikely anyone was in the lobby. He didn’t want to risk leaving the thing out on the steps, it would be far more likely to be destroyed before ever even being spotted. Or stolen. He pressed one hand on one door and pushed, feeling it give and open with slight pressure. It was quiet and quick, and he peeked inside. The worst that could happen was … well. A confrontation, he supposed.

But he was lucky. The lights were low, only a few around the bar left on to illuminate the area, which appeared to be empty. No patrons, no staff, and that was perfect.

A few steps in, closing the door behind him. The remodel had clearly gone smoothly, and it was definitely for the better, given what glimpses of the interior he had gotten before. It helped that Lucifer had led the efforts seamlessly, it took them all less than a day to construct. Lucky bastards. But as he idled in the lobby, he noticed a television set around the sitting area on the other side. Perfect.

A quick approach over to the tech, and Vox dug the box out of his bag. He placed a single note card on top, bearing the name to whom the gift was for.

Alastor.

Single spaced, typed out, using the basic Arial font. He didn’t want to be connected to this. The back of the card bore a simple set of lines. Enjoy. Hand-made for your listening pleasure. He didn’t think hand-writing the note would be a good idea. Signed or not, he was sure Alastor would remember what his penmanship looked like, given it had hardly changed in over fifty years. So typed it was. A soft sigh left him as he stepped back, looking at the gift left on the television for a long moment before turning and making his way out.

“Alastor! There’s something down here for you!” Charlie called out excitedly from the lobby. Alastor was not really in the vicinity to hear, but he did quickly appear at her call, as he always did, emerging easily from the shadows, smile wide. 

“Oh? What do you have for me?” he asked smoothly, glancing down at the wooden box that she was holding. He read the card bearing his name, and his brows furrowed slightly. If it were a gift from Charlie, why would she bother with a card as such?

“It’s not from me, and no one else is owning up to it either,” she said, also looking a little confused. “It was just sitting in the lobby when Husk came to open up, and he gave it to me when I came down.”

“Well, let’s take a look together, shall we?” Alastor said simply, placing his microphone in the crook of one arm and taking the box in his hands. It didn’t seem to be anything inherently dangerous.

“I did open it,” Vaggie admitted as she approached out of curiosity. “It doesn’t look like anything too weird, or like any sort of weapon.”

“Vaggie! It’s just a gift!”

“Oh, it’s quite alright, Charlie. Vaggie has the right idea, triple-checking things.” Meanwhile, he turned the card around and read the few lines typed out on the back. For his listening pleasure? Hand-made? Odd.

The key taped to the card – or rather, re-taped by Vaggie – was clearly needed to open it, so he pulled it off and opened the box, peering at the inside. The scene of a grazing deer, engraved by some sort of heat into the wood, greeted him first, and he found himself blinking in some surprise. There was no signature, no name anywhere inside, and he wondered if the hand-made comment was simply a lie. But there was a certain amount of humanity in the lines, flaws here and there that convinced him more that it wasn’t the case. It was clearly a music box. There was a crank left on the music disk, and he inserted it into the hole it was clearly meant to fit into. Setting the box down, he went ahead and turned it to allow the box to begin making its music.

The song began to play, and Alastor felt something shift in his heart. It was a song he recognized, a song that he was most familiar with in the 70’s, and his mind was left trying to figure out who would make such a thing, or send such a thing. His smile wobbled, but he forcefully kept it up, as a single name arrived as a possibility that he quickly shook away. There would be no reason he would do any such thing, surely. Charlie and Vaggie both appeared entranced by the music, and Alastor seemed stuck in place, so the song played in full and eventually stopped to leave them in silence. Alastor stepped forward and snapped the box shut, tucking it under his arm.

“That’s such a nice gift, do you know who- oh. Where did he go?” Charlie spoke to Vaggie, realizing Alastor had disappeared amongst the shadows again.

The Radio Demon was back in his room, and the box was back in his hands, opened and being examined. He was searching it for just about any semblance of information on who had sent the pesky little thing. He shook it a little in his hands in frustration when he found nothing at all. But he heard something seem to slide against the wood inside of it. 

He paused. Was it just a mechanism piece? Another shake gave the same noise, but it didn’t sound like anything that should have been in there.

He sat down with it, examining the well-crafted item, noting the screws on the bottom of the box after a closer look. He produced a small screwdriver and worked the metal out of their holes, finding the hollow spot where the folded paper resided. 

“Ah-ha!” 

A triumphant little noise and he withdrew the folded note, placed the music box gently down on his desk, and read it. 

Alastor.

Today marks it being officially eighty years since the day you saved me from Hell, in every literal and figurative sense. Technically, a total of a hundred years since meeting you for the first time. Things are weird and different now, and I wish that wasn't the case, but hopefully you have fond memories about this song, that maybe it can remind you of what we used to be. Who I … used to be. And maybe it'll bring you a little happiness, too.

With love, Vox.

Oh. 

So it was Vox's doing as he first thought. Somehow, it was almost relieving. That no one else seemed to be aware of that part of him, or that it ever existed. There were really few who remembered that once they used to be close, but … truly Alastor had thought that Vox was one of those people. There was a mix of feelings boiling in his chest, he felt like, and he couldn't begin to sort out what was more prominent. Anger? Rage? Something … softer? Sentimentality? Regret? 

His fingers pulled the box back into his lap, flipping it back over. He cranked the handle and let the song play again, his expression softening. He thought he'd buried most of this decades ago. He thought Vox had buried this all decades ago. Alastor was more than aware of the date, though he had no intention of being so actionable on it. It meant Vox came during the night, and Alastor hadn't noticed. For once, he had been able to sleep, and it appeared it had been conveniently during the time he had arrived. Stepped right into his domain to drop off a ridiculous gift that he made plenty of effort to be unattached to. 

He could remember the many times they'd danced to this song. It was an original piece by someone more local, Vox had been enamored by it, and Alastor had agreed that it was very good. Vox bought the record without question and when they lived together, back in the 70’s, they would often play it. 

Alastor shook his head, trying to dispel the memories. It hadn't been like that for so long. Vox moved out a couple decades later, abandoned him for work and profit and frivolity. Lost himself to the corporate world somehow, though it was frankly surprising he'd managed to go so long with any individuality in the first place. 

But he couldn't seem to harshen the smile on his face as the song played. 

Thank you, old friend.

#my writing #alastor x vox #radiostatic #staticradio #radiostatic week 2024 #radio demon #alastor the radio demon #vox hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #hazbin charlie #vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #flluff #vintage day 2 #radiostatic day 2 #hazbin hotel fanfiction

[mvshr00m-1]

Future!Leonardo and Future!Donatello ref sheets!

These took way too long, so please interact and reblog lol

Alongside the two character sheets (which shows two front face versions, one in full gear and one that's more casual. And also some other stuff around them, like Leo's sword & arm and also Tello's tech bow and battle shell)

I did also do a lil height comparison thing cause I can, tello would be a little taller than Leo. Prove me other wise.

Some design things to point out:

For the most part Navy's (F!Leo) design is pretty similar to his canon design in the movie, except for some of the marking being moved or added, and of course I edited some of his clothes to fit better with my style.

But since Tello (F!don) doesn't have a canon design, I was able to get a bit more creative with him!

Aka i used Navy as a base, but gave Tello both arms, made his trousers longer (and purple of course), and edited the belt thing to fit his design more.

I also gave Tello two plastron cuts on one side (like in my og design), but inside of having the other side of his plastron have just a cracked off piece or having it covered with a metal plate, I just made it look like it got filled in with a plastron like filler.

He does have the same arm gloves like Navy (minus the bandages).

Of course since Tello is THE science lad, I have him a lab coat with the Donnie tech logo on his upper arms, and made it pretty long cause that would look cool af.

I did end up making a proper battle shell design that is a mix of all his other battle shells that he used when he was younger! It having holes on the side where his metal hands come out, and the purple part being able to open up and inside would be some mechanism that can look like his little jet pack thing, which he would make with his mystic, attaching it to his physical battle shell

He also has a more detailed upgraded arm gauntlet thing.

And he does actually have purple chin marks (which aren't visible due to his metal plate chin implant), and also has little purple marking under his eyes. Both resembling the markings Navy has!

In my og design for Tello he had a different style of leg prosethics, but I ended up changing it since it was hard to draw, and the idea of Tello saying fxxk you to the kranng and using their robot legs as a prosthetic just speaks Donatello lmao

Tello also has very similar goggles to his past self, but the metal being much darker and stronger. And of course its been upgraded too.

Finally both Navy and Tello have bright yellow eyes... One, cause it's cool as fuck. Two, cause I would say present Leo and Donnie would have brown eyes, but due to the radiation and apocalyptic environment their eyes would get a lot brighter and would glow in the dark a little. Small cool concept I have.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #art #leonardo #digital illustration #rottmnt future leonardo #future leo #donatello #future donnie #future tello #rottmnt future donnie #designs #character #character designs #peepaw multiverse #refrence

[endereies]

Fuck it - Matt Sturniolo - Part 4

Spotify playlist:

Summary: Fem!oc x Matt Sturniolo

Growing up with parents who make her feel isolated, what happens when she meets Matt. A person who introduces her to new people, new experiences and new feelings.

Authors notes:

This chapter is my life rn fr

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 2879

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“Is this something we are meant to do?”

“Fuck it.”

Alyia Pov:

I was sat sketching in my last period of the day, creating small doodles around the edges of the sheets I got handed only thirty minutes prior. I had attempted to go to the library to focus on my work but it had the opposite effect. I had been sat here for half an hour and spent that time doodling eyes in the corner of my work accompanies by small starts and hearts. My phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket which caused me to be dragged from the comfort of my sketches. A loud sigh escapes my lips as I bring the screen towards my face which shines in near full brightness. The top of my notification bar held a text message from Matt, sent only a minute prior.

Matt🥁:

‘hey alyia, can we work on the project at my house today rather than yours?’

I tap the border of my phone, picking in the gaps of the phone case and the metal flicking between replies in my head.

Alyia🎸:

‘yeah sure, any particular reason why?’

Matt🥁:

‘I just have some shit to do before hand and I don’t wanna go back and forth between places’

Alyia🎸:

‘alr then, send me the address and time and ill come over’

Matt🥁:

‘sweet, can you be here for 7 ish’

Alyia🎸:

‘see you at seven Matt’

I sit staring at my screen for a while, looking at the ‘online’ that lingered under Matt’s contact name. He finally leaves the chat and I follow suit to place my phone face down on the desk. I let my hands rest on the desk but my body leans back into the chair. I haven’t ever been to his house before and I was used to him coming to mine, I had no idea if his brothers or parents would be there. How they would react to me suddenly being in their house.

I didn’t get a chance to properly react or overthink due to the bell’s intrusive sound that emits from above on the library’s walls.

-

It had been an hour since I had gotten home and it was nearly time for me to leave my house if I wanted to get to his place on time. I had just finished building my outfit which wasn’t too casual but it wasn’t smart either. A long-sleeved top with a shorter-sleeved, thinner sweater onto covered a black shirt that hung just above my knee. A pair of black tights ran up my legs only being covered by some plain air forces which seemed too worse for wear. Even if the weather didn’t immediately call for it, I paired the outfit with a black jacket I purchased a few years ago. The arms of the jacket swung off the edge of the leather seat I threw it on to. I rummage through my desk drawers for my keys, vitamins, charger and any extra notes to throw into my backpack.

-

Their house looked so put together from the outside of it the designs being simplistic but appealing to look at. The car outside was one I recognised from the same parking spot at the entrance of the school which him and his brothers exited every morning. I noticed them walk towards the main entrance on my way to the music room most days.

I stand in front of their main door and I hesitate before finally hitting my knuckles onto the centre of their door making sure I avoid the blurred glass. A shadow emerges from behind that glass and I take a small step back not wanting to feel immediately intrusive.

“Hey, oh-“ my words fade when I realise Matt wasn’t the one who answered the door but instead it was a longer haired brunette.

“Alyia? Hey what’s up” he grabs a hold of the door frame and uses the rest of his weight to push the door open “Come one in”

I don’t respond right away, making note that Chris remembered my name perfectly. Either he focused on that detail when he first met me and barged into the music roo., or Matt has spoken about me to his brothers often enough for them to know. As unlikely as that was.

“Chris, hi.” I take a step inside, following Chris and shutting the door behind me which he ignored and left.

“What are you doing here?”

“Matt didn’t’ tell you” I’m only met with a slight shake of his head due to a lollipop he just placed in his mouth.

“Matt wanted me to come to his house to work on the project tonight” I slide my backpack down my arm, noting the loss of friction as it gets stuck on the folds of my sweater

“Really? Kid didn’t mention that to me.” I go to respond but another voice emits before mine does.

“Chris, who was it!”

“It was Alyia, Matt has invited her over for the English shit.” Chris walks past a corner and his volume in his voice decreases, so I follow him to listen to the conversation that now included me.

“Alyia is here?” Nick turns from the sofa and rests an arm on the back as he faces me directly.

“Hey guys... uhm hate to interrupt but where can I put this?” my backpack rests in my palm, causing my wrist muscles to flex slightly and after a few seconds it starts to ache further down my arm.

“Literally anywhere at this point, we need to clean up this weekend anyway.” Nick circles his wrist in a general location of the main sitting area.

I drop my backpack and use my foot to push it further to the side, so that no one trips up over it.

“So…where is Matt?”

“In the shower upstairs, but he went in 10 minutes ago so he should be out soon” Chris speaks, keeping his gaze fixed on his phone in my hands, slumping down next to Nick harshly.

I simply nod in response and start to sit next to them, creating a small distance between us. I follow Chris’s actions and pull out my phone and go onto random apps one after another before finally scrolling on Instagram for a moment. I few minutes of awkward silence go by before a loud voice echoes from up the stairs.

“Yo Nick, have you seen my pink shirt, the one with the bear on it?”

“Yeah, it’s on top of the table down here!” Chris yells back up to Matt upstairs.

I lift my head up from my phone, putting my attention onto the voices exchanging between each of the brothers. Footsteps approach and I see Matt walking down the stairs towards the three of us.

Traces of water track down the back of his neck from water that was adsorbed from the towel he now holds in his arms. Strands of hair cling to his forehead which appear darker, almost black. His lower body is hugged by a blue pair of plaid pyjama pants, sat on the bottom of his hips. His tattoos are clearly on show and I take this time to analyse them, noticing a few designs I hadn’t seen before. They traced around his arms and tracked the lines of his muscles alongside missed droplets of water. He brushed the strands from the front of his face backwards, parting his hair with his fingers slowly, not wanting any knots to remain. His tongue parts his lips slightly, wetting them briefly. He finally looks up from the floor and notices me sat on their sofa.

Shit.

“Alyia...hey you’re here early” He reaches the bottom of the stairs and walks towards the vibrant shirt on the table.

I swallow harshly when he turns around, his back facing me as he lifts the shirt over his head and past his shoulders. His back muscles flex as he drags it past his chest and hips

“Uh, yeah, my car is being fixed so I had to take the bus... I just took the one that wouldn’t make me late.” I rub the back of my neck, trying to calm myself down.

“I guess that’s fair. So, you wanna work on the project now?”

“Yeah, about that.” Chris mumbles and drags out his words and Matt looks at him with a confused expression.

“Why can’t we Chris.” His tone is a little harsher and his voice raises in pitch as he grows more curious.

“Well. I didn’t know Alyia was coming over for one, so I invited Nate and Madi over...”

I hear a sigh from Matt from across the room and I look up at him.

“Nate’s that hockey player in our English class, right?”

“Yeah, he is” he stops looking at me and turns to face Chris. “Did you invite them to do anything?”

“I mean yeah. I do every time, games n shit. You guys can fuck the project for one night to hang?” Chris’s demeanour has relaxed and he cross his arms over his lower stomach.

“Alyia hasn’t ever spoke to Nate and Madi is that fair?” A voice from Nick emits for the first time in a while.

I sit up and put my arms weight on my knees, slouching over. “I can always leave if you wan-“ I suddenly get interrupted by Matt and I glance up to him, his expression making him seem deep in thought.

“You could hang out with us if you wanted. It’s not like these guys know you, it could be fun to know each other more.”

“I’m so down if y’all are?” Chris faces Nick, earning an eager nod. I get a similar eagerness when Chris turns his body to me expectantly.

“If you guys don’t mind, then I’m down.”

-

A few hours had gone by and we were all sat down on the floor onto of pillows and blankets playing an intense game of monopoly. Initially I was intimated by practically 4 new people in an unfamiliar setting but once we all sat down and started talking, I got used to it. I had found out that Nate was the captain of the hockey team and that Madi was working with fashion and was in Jenny’s class. Chris’s personality filled the room whenever intense moments happened and it was fun to be around. He was a bubble of energy and it felt like Nick had to reel him back down any time he yelled too much. Which seemed to be often. Chris was being a sore lower in monopoly anytime someone had to take money for him, only to celebrate moments later when he passed go and got $200. Nate was currently winning but Nick and I weren’t fair behind him money wise. Nick was winning property wise and already set in multiple hotels down.

“Oh, come on! Again!” Chris had started to complain again which made us giggle, especially Matt as Chris once again owed him money.

“Not my fault, I own Oxford Street and so...you owe me money.” Matt holds his hand across the board in front of Chris who simply rolls his eyes and begrudgingly slaps $1100 into his hand.

It was my turn to roll the dice and a number of 4 is added between them. I grab the dog character and move it across, landing on the same square that Chris did. I sigh and flick through my money and pull out $1100 and hold it out for Matt to take.

“Damn again, Matt you’re getting lucky right now I swear” Madi giggles along with Nate and Nick but Chris still sulks at his loss of money. Matt's hand reaches forwards and grazes mine as he takes the money with a weak smile.

-

“Damn it. I’ve fucking landed on Mayfair” I see Nick slam his money down on the board. Nate just responds with laughter as he takes the money from Nick.

I had lost a while ago, having to mortgage my property after I landed on Oxford Street again, I sat to the side talking with Chris and Madi who had lost to Nate.

“Honestly I’m glad that ended, it’s getting late” Nate mumbles before yawning.

“late? How late” I quietly speak as I pull my phone off the sofa behind me and turn the screen on, the screen a little too bright now that it was dark outside. “Oh shit.”

“Hey, you okay?” Matt stands up and faces me, leaning down to reach the board to help pack it away.

“Its like eleven right now, buses are gonna be fucked.” I frown at my phone screen as I pull up my bus times for the journey home.

“You could always stay over, it’s not like we have classes tomorrow.” Chris smiles at the suggestion Nick makes, facing me with a genuine kindness.

“Really? It wouldn’t be intrusive; I mean I’ve known you for one day.”

“We've heard enough through Matt to be honest; it would be nice honestly.”

“I appreciate it, but one problem. I don’t have any spare clothes on me” I look down at the outfit questioning if it’s suitable enough to sleep in.

“I have some clothes you can borrow...” Madi finishes putting the board game away and faces me with a wide smile.

“If that doesn’t fit since she is shorter than you, I have shit you can use for the night.” Matt reaches into the cupboard to place the box onto a high shelf.

“Uhm sure. If that’s okay”

“Of course, no worries.”

-

Matt pov:

I have showed Alyia to a spare room we have across from mine and carried her things into it and placed them at the foot of the bed. We haven’t had a chance to paint or fully decorate the room apart from the bare minimum but thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind. I return back to my room while I grab a few options of clothing for her to wear overnight. One of which is the same ransom tee I wore the first time Alyia and I met. I smile briefly while walking back towards Alyia’s room.

“Hey I picked out a few options for you”

“Thanks again for this, I appreciate it” Her demeanour seems more closed of than it was when playing the game less than an hour ago. She seems to hide herself, rubbing her arm in what I can only assume as a form of self-comfort.

“You, okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t want to feel like I’m overstepping” She sits down on the bed behind her.

“Trust me. You aren’t, I want you here.” Those words come out a little too fast than what I wanted them to.

“Really?”

“Yeah...really.”

We smile at each other for a moment before I snap out of it and hand her the clothes that were draped over my arms.

“Thank you, Matt.” She gives me a small smile which I reciprocate before I even process it.

Her phone suddenly vibrates on the nightstand displaying the name ‘Scarlett Hawkes’.

“Sorry, I have to take this.”

Alyia pov:

“Hello mother.”

“Hello Ally, why are you not at home?”

“I went out with friends, I’m staying over.”

“And you didn’t tell me? I’m at home waiting for you and you aren’t here.”

“You didn’t tell me you would even be home.”

“I told you I would be home on Thursday, Ally”

“Mother it’s Friday.”

“Either way I expect you to be home tomorrow.”

I sigh and hang up the phone, not wanting to deal with the conversation any longer and I place my phone back on the nightstand.

“Sorry about that” I mumble quietly.

“Was that your mum?”

“Uh yeah, she is finally home and wondered why I'm not.” I speak slyly, hoping he doesn’t pick up on my attitude.

“I haven’t ever seen your mum at your home before...”

“She travels a load; she works in fashion and is constantly travelling and my dad organises her meetings and manages all her work. They try to be home when they can but it’s not often enough.”

“Fuck...well you’re always welcome over here if you ever feel lonely or something”

“Yeah?”

“Of course, you’re my mate and you get on well with my brothers and everyone, tonight was fun. I’m glad you stayed over.” He offers me a smile and I smile back, watching as he sits down next to me.

“Well thanks for inviting me”

“Don’t sweat it, the buses are awful at night and we have nothing planned”

I keep my smile as I look down at my hands, fidgeting with them quietly.

“Well...I’ll uh let you get ready and I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yeah, thanks again for this” I meet his gaze, standing up holding the clothes he gave me a few moments ago.

“If you need anything, let me know, yeah?”

I nod to him as he leaves my room, pushing the door to. His footsteps fade as he walks to his own room, hearing the chair creak as he sits in it.

I flick through the few shirts he gave me and I pull out a ransom shirt.

The one he wore when we met.

@yuhayeee @melliflws @axolotllover225 @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @sturniolosmind @worldlxvlys @patscorner @breeloveschris @y0urm4m

#sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo

[freakshowtwopointoh]

the 'just watch me drive' bit gets me every time and I can't stop giggling but then it made my mind remember that movie I saw 'babydriver' and now I'm just thinking of au jordan in those scenes as a getaway driver for their wild group of friends who are all linked in some way to criminal activity with each using their powers and skillsets to get the group as a whole rich beyond belief and now I have a mighty need for this au and the chaotic adventures.

FUCKING SAME DUDE I CANT KEEP FROM GIGGLING EVERY TIME

omg that's iconic

esp bc i defo think jordan loves to drive. also i love babydriver its amazing. brain go brrrrrrrrrrr sorry not sorry

fjsdklfajk just add tthis to my list of aus

Jordan didn't outwardly complain when Brink brought new people into the fold, but they were never pleased about it either. The more people in the know, the more possible problems down the line.

At this point in the game, the others picked up on their wariness about newcomers and would not stop teasing them about it. Andre had actually created a bingo sheet of 'Jordan fucks with the newbie'. When Emma was brought on, they got a bingo in under three hours.

So when Brink told the team that he found a new recruit, Jordan ensured they kept their eyes forward, ignoring the reactions of their friends behind them.

"Alright, alright. Look - her power is weird but it's especially critical to this upcoming mission so please, don't scare her away."

Jordan forced themself not to roll their eyes - they never scared anyone away. People just couldn't handle them. There's a difference. But then Brink gave Sam a very pointed look, and they had to stifle a smile. They had forgotten about that... incident.

The metal door creaked open and in walked probably one of the most gorgeous people Jordan had ever seen. Big brown eyes, full lips, gorgeous deep skin, and long locs pulled back into a ponytail.

"Everyone, this is Marie."

Fuck. Jordan was fucked.

---

Marie was skeptical when Victoria told her about this new job. Multiple missions, little-to-no information about the group or the jobs. Just - do what these people tell you for the next few weeks, months, or even years, and then her and her sister would be set for life. To be fair, that is the deal that Victoria gave her initially when she caught her stealing on the job, but still. At least she had known Victoria for a few months beforehand. She's never met any of these people, and now she has to play nice? She just had to stay focused on Annabeth. If she could find them a good, stable place to stay...

So she went, pocketknife in tow, trench coat on, prepared for pretty much anyone when she walked into the cold conference room. Sitting around a large table were six people about her age, and the only other person in the room was a much older man with white hair and a beard. Marie presumed he was the head of whatever kind of ragtag criminal organization this was. This was confirmed when he introduced her.

"Everyone, this is Marie." She gave a small wave and the others introduced themselves. Andre, a black man with short hair and a relaxed posture, Luke, a tan blond man who looked like he had walked out of a Gap catalog, Cate, a thin and pale preppy blonde girl with piercing blue eyes, Emma, a bubbly white girl with short blonde hair, Sam, a pale muscular man with curly brown hair and puppy dog eyes, and Jordan, a small Asian girl with headphones in who seemed to have a permanent frown on her admittedly very pretty face. The leader went by "Brink", and she was sure there were a plethora of shitty puns she could come up with if he wasn't her boss. She took a seat in between Jordan and Sam, knowing Brink would likely want to begin quickly.

Taking in the group, it was clear whatever they were doing paid well. She wasn't well-versed in designer brands but the few she did recognize were scattered throughout the group.

---

The mission seemed simple enough, once Brink explained the details, but it was clear he was holding things back. Mainly because he hadn't mentioned the newbie's powers or why they needed her. I mean she was unassuming, but weren't they all? Jordan was halfway tempted to corner Brink and demand answers, but they knew they wouldn't get any information out of him he didn't want to give.

#jordan li #gen v #gen v prime #gen v fic #jordan x marie #limoreau #gen v au #marie moreau #marie moreau x jordan li #cate dunlap #emma meyer #andre anderson #luke riordan #richard brinkerhoff #sam riordan

[floofysmallbob]

wheeeyyyyyyy redesigns

This redesign actually took a while, simply because I spent SO MUCH TIME on Wikipedia and researching, but I think it was worth it. His canon design was fairly easy to build off of, and I really enjoyed creating this, so here’s Stun Gun Hero: Chargebolt!

gold and silver shoulder and elbow/knee pads, respectively

gold and silver are both great conductors

i considered lining his suit with metal, but he’s vulnerable to the electricity, and if I lined it with an insulator, it wouldn’t be able to travel as well, so I stuck to keeping all the conductors on the outside of the suit, as well as being detachable

steel toed combat boots that I can’t draw

temperature regulating suit

helps with numbness and muscle tensing/cramping, as well as other common side effects of electrocution

visor that looks more like a visor than a pair of glasses(solely aesthetic)

gold lining on the hems of the jacket

jacket zips up

pockets.

utility belt that I once again cannot draw

extendable metal rod hooked on his belt

more compact shooter device

smaller pellets

connected to the glasses just like in canon

shooter device also has an extendable metal rod

extra pellet thingies are in the utility belt as well as medical care for electricution

AMBER VERSION:

I wanted to add a nod to amber(just search up what does amber have to do with lightning), but I didn’t know where to put it, so I made an alternate version

VERSION WITH CAPE:

Cape is actually a folded up insulated sheet, for protecting bystanders(and looking cool)

HOT WEATHER VERSION:

lighter material

jacket has been replaced by a vest

shorter glove

HOT WEATHER AMBER VERSION:

COLD WEATHER VERSION:

turtleneck

thicker material

taller boots(not visible)

gloves

COLD WEATHER AMBER VERSION:

this was actually the last redesign I had done ahead of time(that I was going to be posting soon), so now I have to do the next one in the coming week before posting it

also, I did get the streak on the correct side, the reference is flipped

as well, as a nod to my personal ships, while not being glaringly obvious(because I hate when I find stuff I like with ships I don’t like), some of the colors of Denki’s outfit are directly color picked from who I ship him with, because I like unnecessary detail

I’ve done this with all the other characters that I ship but Denki’s really the first noticeable one

ok enough of my rambling

as always, tips and advice are welcome!

#denki kaminari #mha kaminari #bnha kaminari #kaminari denki #mha denki #bnha denki #mha #mha redesign #mha redesigns #mha fanart #bnha redesign #bnha redesigns #bnha