#nb!freelancer

[nanowatzophina]

I wanna do more of these. Definitely AT LEAST the rest of DAMN squad! But take this for now. <3 working on doing more finished art pieces… for once. In stead of just messy sketches.

[icy-incubus]

Freelancer warmup i did today :3

Im starting to realize how many of my designs have chest hair. LISTEN im GAY and WEIRD

Ft. Transmasc nb Freelancer

[nanowatzophina]

Can you imagine… in a life of feeling very specific emotions held towards you. Either sexual desire or hatred/disgust. Imagine finally finding someone who looks at you and feels a soft love… a deep caring emotion. For YOU. For who YOU ARE. And you feel it back for them. Because. You LOVE each other.

Okay. I know I didn’t do art yesterday. But it was a hectic day. But I’m going to try to do some more Ace!Freelancer x Gavin art today. Because. I want to.

[nanowatzophina]

💜them💜

[nanowatzophina]

Some things I doodled while waiting for food! (Technically would have posted this yesterday but oh well)

Decided Avery would share a bday with me cuz I kin them the most. And since Gavin probably wouldn’t have an earthly bday they celebrate it with their’s.

[ejunkiet]

a token effort

it’s wip wednesday, so here is the opener for the next part of ‘all those D.A.M.N. boys’, with a certain tsundere hot head >:3

redacted asmr: damien/freelancer. rated teen, no content warnings.

Freelancer takes Damien out on a date to the arcade.

FULL VERSION ON AO3

--

He’s heating up. He’s heating up, and they know it, their dark eyes glinting, that little smirk playing at the corner of their - smart, tempting, teasing - mouth.

“Cheater.”

They blink at him, their eyes wide and dark, the very picture of innocence, and yeah, that’s not gonna work. Not this time.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Bullshit.”

There’s that flicker of a smile again, quickly smoothed away into innocence.

“Can’t I express my admiration for my talented boyfriend?”

Boyfriend. The word still makes his heart thump heavily within his chest, dizzying in the head rush - and he almost, almost, lets it go.

“You’re trying to distract me.” He narrows his eyes. “But you’ll have to work harder than that.” 

He holds their gaze for a long moment, before he steps up to the machine and snags another ball, weighing it as he eyes the length of the polished wooden ramp. 

It’s a simple concept, skee-ball, but it requires - focus. Concentration. A little patience… which, he’ll have to admit, he often finds in short supply. 

He’s still got a couple points on the freelancer, but with their… distractions, he’s not performing half as well as he usually does, and it’s bugging him.

And they knew it. Planned for it, even.

Pushing those thoughts away, he takes a deep, steadying breath and lines up the shot. Fifty points. He can do this.

A quiet footstep directly behind him is all the warning he gets before their hand settles against his hip, the heat of their breath brushing against his ear, and fuck, if it doesn’t send a shiver down his spine.

“I just wanted to let you know how well you’re doing.”

He damn near drops the ball.

tagging- you, reading this! and also (no pressure!):

@devilbunnyking @starrypawz (this is for one of your prompts, btw!! >:3) @chroniclesinlacuna @writingstellar @vryptidart @roguelioness @bearlytolerant @sentientdroids @rhetoricalrogue @alittlestarling @romirola @wolfishwriting @lunareclipsee @writer-ish @doodlin