Runningwithhellhounds - OwO

teen wolf thingie

(it's also on my society6...if-if you care - www.society6.com/xxdanaja )

IS THE WORLD SEEING THIS

A little art for @runningwithhellhounds ’s fic!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15099911?view_adult=true

She is both an amazing artist and writer, so you definitely have to check out her blog and fic!

Love you bro 💕

ART COMMISSIONS <3

Digital painting: $50

Lineart design: $10

I'm taking commissions via Fiverr! Including fanart commissions. More information here:

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Your art is .. wow. I don't know what to say. It's amazing! Keep up your good work!

Thank you sooo much for thinking so and sharing your opinion with me! Extremely lovely of you, person :)

''Stop looking at me,'' Lance says, decisively not looking back at Shiro. He gets Pidge out of his range, but she steps back in and jabs him in the face with a pad.

 He is not expecting a response. Shiro will give one, but Lance doesn't mind. He doesn't mind, and calls himself a self-liar, hyphenated. He calls himself a liar like a cheerful punch. Gotta have a relationship with yourself.

 ''Good,'' Shiro says, arms folded, at ease, barefoot. Barefoot. A walking exposed nerve – and assured. Hell. ''You can twist your foot when you knee.''

 What a cliché, what a fucking cliché. I'd still hear – say something like, I'd choose you twice, a cliché like that, and watch m—

 ''You twist your foot when you knee,'' Lance mutters, steps back in defense, too far. Into the pretense of safety.

 ''Mhm,'' Pidge glances at Shiro, and starts circling around Lance, ''head transparency.''

 This is the opposite of losing oneself in a crowd. This is self-awareness you don't know what to do with. Counting your steps on accident. Singled out by himself.

 ''Okay,'' Lance says, ''okay, break time, Pidge. Go go. I'm going.'' This feeling is so him, quintessentially, that he could personalise words for it.

Shiro's arms are folded, at ease, and he's too still be a this distracting. He's smiling. ''You're walking on your tiptoes.''

 Lance steps down fully, stepping backward. Don't hide.

 ''I'm not,'' Lance says, wholly grounded.

 ''I didn't say anything, muffin.'' Shiro is smiling.

 Right there. Right here. Lance's brain screams faux offense, take take, and it screams you choose muffin, and it screams are you making fun?

 Oh, Lance is intrigued. People aren't just distractions. They shape what you look at and you fall into piece-by-piece reappraisal. People are really fucking powerful.

 Lance's mind is screaming: be serious, I'm serious.

He is distracted, and he likes it.

Coughcoughminewtcough