#And then they asked me if art was a hobby of mine and I just 🧍‍♀️ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

queensunshinee · 4 months ago

Text

His favorite toy- Part 2 || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, oral sex), super toxic relationship.

Word Count: 6.5k

(part 1)

His favorit toy- Part 2:

Two months have passed since the last time Art and I fucked. Although it wouldn’t be fair to call it that, because I don’t fully know what it was. I only know he said he thinks he loves me. Neither of us made the minimal effort to rekindle any kind of relationship. I kept sitting with Janet and Shane, and he stayed in his place next to the friend he invented.

Occasionally, if I focused, I could feel his gaze on the back of my neck, but maybe I was imagining it. Maybe I also imagined his declaration of love, maybe I lost my grip on reality for a moment. Maybe more water needs to flow under this bridge. Maybe Tashi Duncan needs to be his, like he is hers, so I can stop dreaming about him at night. How did I become so dependent on the emotions of a girl I have no desire to exchange a word with? How did I lose someone I’m not sure was ever mine? And more than anything- what made me spend so much time in this endless whining?

A few days after that party, Luke sat next to me in one of the classes we share. He looked so good that if I close my eyes, I can imagine it's Art. A remarkably pathetic thought, but it works. Except he isn’t cruel. He doesn't try to deceive me or lead me to the point he wants me to reach. He’s interested in me and my hobbies, and sometimes he walks me from class to class, but in these two months, he hasn’t made any move beyond placing his hand on my shoulder. Maybe he thinks I have lice. Maybe he thinks I won’t be good enough in bed to risk our boring conversations about the eco-intro professor.

Maggie, the girl I work with, canceled at the last minute, so I ended up alone at the smoothie station and the register. I took comfort in the fact that it's exam season and not too many Stanford students would prefer to stand in line for a smoothie instead of grabbing a spot in the library on a Sunday night. "The usual?" I heard Art’s voice and lifted my gaze from the book I was reading. I blinked at him a few times, as if trying to figure out if I was imagining his smug smile. Maybe it wasn’t smug, maybe that's just how he always smiles when he sees me. Like he knows a secret he’ll never tell me. "I..." I tried to hold onto the reality as I knew it, "I don’t remember," I smiled without showing teeth, half-forced.

"Peach—" he stopped himself in the middle of the stupid nickname. Apparently, he understood from my look that it wasn’t appropriate after two months of radio silence. "Almond milk, banana, pecan, and coconut," he mumbled. "That’s $4.50," he nodded. I wondered if he was surprised, because I’d never asked him to pay before. I’d always used the free smoothie I got during my shift on him. "How a—" he started to speak, and I turned on the blender, seeing out of the corner of my eye that he was smirking and shaking his head. "Fair," he muttered. "Here’s your smoothie. Goodnight," I handed him the cup after a few seconds, with the most forced smile I could muster. He rolled his eyes in response and sat down in one of the empty chairs.

"What do you think you’re doing?" I asked. "Sitting and drinking my smoothie, obviously," he spoke again as if I were two years old. Like I needed him to mediate reality for me because I couldn’t understand it on my own. "Do you see anyone else sitting here?" I asked. "Just because the tables are empty because it’s ten at night and you’re working in a cafeteria-" he began. "This isn’t a cafeteria. It’s the—" "Doesn’t mean I can’t sit at one of the tables and drink my smoothie. Or are there new rules I’m not aware of?" I rolled my eyes in response. Smug dickhead. I was definitely not going to give him a second of my time. I went back to the book I was reading for my philosophy exam, trying to ignore his presence but realizing I was reading the same sentence five times in a row.

"What are you studying?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. "Why are you doing this?" I threw the question back from behind the counter, sighing in frustration. "What am I doing?" The usual smirk was plastered on his face. "Why are you here on a Sunday night, Art?" If I could stomp my foot to express protest, I would. "Because you’re here on a Sunday night." The smirk turned into a smile. I couldn’t tell if it was sincere. I never know if he’s sincere.

"What do you want?" I rolled my eyes and sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to leave. I knew he was stubborn in an almost inspiring way (or nauseating, depending on who you ask) and that he was always at an advantage with me. He always had the last word. All I had left was to let him say it quickly and move on with life. "To ask how you're doing?" he half said, half asked. He sounded hesitant, but I knew he wasn’t. I knew he was as confident as any other day. He knew exactly what he was doing. "Amazing. Anything else?" I found myself crossing my arms under my chest and saw him, without shame, shift his gaze, well… to my chest, raising an eyebrow.

"Arthur!" I felt like I was his aunt as he shook his head, almost playfully. "I missed you, Peaches. Is that so hard to believe?" He chuckled, still completely shameless. "Well, I didn’t." That was the first thing that came to mind, and the face Art made, along with the eye roll, only emphasized how much he didn’t believe me. "Why are you so mad at me?" His voice was amused as he approached the counter with his smoothie, grabbing the book I was reading without asking. "What course is this?" "Philosophy," I snatched it from his hand, and he grabbed mine with the speed of an athlete who works too much with his hands. "Let go," I muttered, not sure if I wanted him to release my hand or release me. But I was scared he'd agree and disappear again, and that was so fucking pathetic. "Never," he replied, keeping his gaze on me and giving my hand a squeeze. "It’s not fair, Art," I hated how my voice sounded. "What’s not fair?" he asked, tracing small circles on my hand the moment he felt me relax the muscle that had been trying to pull away from his touch. "What you're doing right now," I sighed. If he weren’t in front of me, I probably would’ve started crying out of frustration. "What am I doing right now?" The smirk was once again plastered on his face. "Trying to convince me everything's okay between us," I hesitated, and he shook his head from side to side. "Nothing's okay between us, Peaches. I hate it. I actually hate it. I think about you 80% of the day. Every time I want to talk to you, you're either with your friends or with Luke." He wrinkled his nose as he said his name.

"Why do you know his name?" I asked, studying him. "Because I looked him up, and I'm telling you, Peaches, he's fucking weird—" "You're fucking weird," I shot back, and he laughed, trying to move the hair from my face with his free hand. "Well, maybe you like us weird, maybe you've got a type," he tried to joke, making me roll my eyes. "Who said I like you, Donaldson?" I tried to defend myself, and Art wasn’t laughing anymore. He wasn’t smiling either. He just looked at me, not letting me read his expression. His hand, which had been playing with mine, tightened its grip, and his gaze locked onto me as if I was on trial for the words that just came out of my mouth.

"Let’s study for the statistics exam together tomorrow?" He changed the subject, not breaking his intense gaze. "Art—" "Study for the exam. Just that. I won't pass it if you don't help me," he flashed his most charming smile. The one he fakes in seconds. The one he uses for interviews with the Stanford magazine and in photoshoots for the tennis team posters. "Study with Dylan," I suggested, raising an eyebrow, referring to the imaginary friend he chose to sit with instead of me. "You want me to beg?" he asked, poking my shoulder with his finger, causing me to shift slightly but still not letting go of my hand. "Maybe," I teased. "I can. My ego will survive if you study with me for statistics tomorrow." He said it quicker than I expected.

"I have a philosophy exam at eight. Can you do twelve?" I asked. "I can when you can. Where’s the exam? I’ll wait for you," he said. "Meet me at the economics library. There’s a room where you’re allowed to talk if you’re working in groups," I explained my choice. "That’s ridiculous. Let’s study at your place or mine—" "We’ll study at the library, take it or leave it," I stated firmly, even though the temptation to go to his dorm was strong since he never invited me. We always went to mine. "Library it is," he agreed. "What’s your philosophy exam about?" he asked, finally letting go of my hand, which had been holding the book I was studying from. "Aristotle and eudaimonia. What he thinks about happiness," I muttered, opening my notes again. "What does he think about happiness?" Art asked, leaning on the counter. "You wouldn’t get it," I smiled at him, and saw him nod with a somewhat thoughtful look, as if his combative spirit and desire to argue had evaporated the moment I agreed to study statistics with him. "Tomorrow at twelve, Peaches. Don’t break my heart and ditch me," he threw into the air, leaving the booth with the same dramatic flair he had when he entered. . . . I walked into the economics library, which was packed with people. Art was already sitting there, messing with his phone more than with the notes in front of him on the table. He hadn’t noticed I’d entered, giving me the chance to observe him. His blonde curls fell over his eyes in a way that likely bothered him. He was wearing his red tennis outfit (the one I liked the most, I should mention) and looked carefree. He always seemed too relaxed, maybe that’s how it is when everything comes to you with an ease that’s almost disgusting.

"You need a haircut," I muttered the first thing that came to mind as I approached, seeing him look up immediately. "Hey," he said, smiling from ear to ear, "I saved a spot because I knew it’d be crowded," he added. "How long have you been sitting here?" I asked as I took the seat next to him. "Since about ten," he chuckled, probably at himself, "How was the exam?" he asked. "Long. Have you gone over any of the material?" Yesterday, I decided I’d be practical. I’d promised to help him, and honestly, I always understood the material better myself when I explained it to him. And if Art Donaldson could take advantage of my knowledge in statistics, then I could take advantage of the situation too. Not just him. "A little, I pretty much lost track in the middle of the course." Art had taken this course as an elective. I always found it funny because who takes statistics as an extra class when it’s not even required for their degree?

"What, Kevin didn’t let you copy his notes?" I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he lightly tapped my shoulder. "You’re mean. Since when are you so mean?" he responded with a humor I couldn’t fully read, unsure if he was joking or if part of him actually thought there was some cruelty in me. Maybe it was the philosophy exam I couldn’t shake off. Obsessive thoughts about happiness and potential. "I’m going to get myself some coffee, want me to bring you something?" I asked, changing the subject. "Sit down, get settled, I’ll get it for you," he nodded toward me and stood up, not giving me a chance to refuse before he disappeared from my sight, leaving me alone.

Art Donaldson will be the end of me. I’m certain of it. "My brain is fried, Donaldson. I can’t look at any more averages," I summed up after two hours of studying. "Yeah? Already gave up?" he asked, amused. "I remind you that I had an exam today! I don’t think I’ve eaten anything other than my own brain," I tried to remember what I’d actually eaten today. "So let’s go eat something," he smiled. His eyes practically sparkled. "Art," I sighed, resting my head on my hand. "What? We can’t go have lunch?" he asked with mock innocence. Speaking to me again like I was a child. Like I didn’t understand what he’d already figured out long ago. "No, of course not," I wanted to smack him on the head as if he were the dumbest person I knew. "I can’t let you stay hungry, Peaches, my grandmother would be mad at me," he quickly replied. Where was your grandmother every time you humiliated me to the core? Every time you made me feel empty and stupid? So stupid. "Your grandmother will survive," I rolled my eyes. "She’s a very sick woman, you don’t know that. I’ll tell her I let you starve and she’ll have a stroke. You won’t be able to live with that on your conscience. You’ll drag us into lives full of guilt—" "Okay, you’re giving me a headache, God," I mumbled, standing up. Art Donaldson’s smug smile returned to his face in an instant.

That’s how I found myself sitting across from him at the fancy cafeteria for athletes, eating nuggets after the woman working there flirted with him and gave me a threatening look. "Don’t hate Rosie, she always gives me extra pie," he said after I pointed out that she looked at me like I was the reason the Beatles broke up. "Because she wants to sleep with you," I rolled my eyes. "So she has a reason to look at you like that. Makes sense," he replied with a chuckle. "Okay, what is this?" I dropped the nugget I was holding and pointed between us as I leaned back in my chair. "What?" he continued eating as if nothing unusual was happening. "What are you doing, Art?" I asked, feeling my leg start to shake out of frustration.

"I’m eating and making sure you’re eating," he replied, taking another bite of his food, as if we were having a completely normal conversation. "We’re not going to fuck again just because you invited me to eat nuggets at the cafeteria, you know that, right?" I blinked at him, trying to signal that he was delusional. "Of course not," he said, leaning back in his chair as well. "I have principles, Donaldson," I continued. "I know," he smiled. "I’m not some girl you found on the street that you can treat however you want, disappear for two months, invite her for nuggets, and she’ll take off her bra just so you can vanish again until the next time you’re horny," my voice rose a bit, despite my effort to keep it calm. I saw his jaw tighten, his expression shifting from amused to cold. "Is that what you think this is?" he asked, and all I could do was shrug.

"It’s not like you’ve given me any reason to think otherwise, Art," I looked at him and felt that if I stayed there much longer, I’d start crying. "I told you that I lo—" he began, but I stood up. "Thanks for lunch, it’s definitely nicer than the regular cafeteria," I forced a smile, and he closed his eyes. "You didn’t eat anything," he replied. If I focused, maybe I could have seen his frustration growing. But I was trying to focus on not crying. Art Donaldson’s ego didn’t deserve to see me cry over him again. "I’m really tired, I need to sleep a bit before my shift," I mumbled. "Will you come to my match tomorrow?" he asked quietly. "Art—" "You don’t have to, but I’m saving you a seat, okay?" he cut off my answer, not wanting to hear a refusal, maybe not believing there was a bone in my body capable of saying no to him. . . . And it’s a little pathetic how I ended up walking onto the tennis court the next day, giving up the last shred of my self-respect. I was surprised to see how many people showed up to these things, especially at the end of exam season and right before the break. The place was packed.

‘You came’ -A- I got his message and tried to look around, searching for where he might be. ‘Down on the court’ -A- I could practically see his smirk in the words. I glanced toward him and shrugged. ‘Front row, saved you a seat next to Patrick’ -A- he added.

‘What the fuck is Patrick?’ -(Y/N)- I replied, not moving toward where he told me to go.

‘A friend. Please sit there.’ -A- He answered shortly. ‘Want to lift my head and know where you are’ -A- And when he says things like that, I almost forget how cruel he can be. So I find myself rolling my eyes and walking toward the seat he saved for me.

"Are you Patrick?" I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush from the awkward interaction with the guy sitting next to the empty seat. "Depends who’s asking," the curly-haired guy responded, flashing a mischievous half-smile. I can see why they’re friends. Fucking twelve-year-olds in the bodies of twenty-year-olds, how is that even possible?! "Don’t be a dick," we heard from down below, and I turned to see Art approaching us. "Who’s this?" the guy I didn’t know asked, as if I wasn’t standing right there—seriously, rude as hell, but whatever. "Patrick, behave," Art wasn’t joking, not even smiling, scolding him like you’d scold a misbehaving pet. "You came," Art looked me over, grinning from ear to ear. "Don’t let it go to your head, I had some free time," I muttered, sitting down. Art nodded. "Will you stay after the game?" he asked. I think it was the first time Art had to look up to talk to me. "I don’t know, I need to keep studying for statistics," I answered. "Me too," he replied. "We’ll study together," he shrugged, not giving me a chance to respond before he walked off, taking his position. Getting ready to serve.

“Interesting,” the guy next to me said. “What exactly?” I asked, rolling my eyes and still not looking at him. “You, of course,” I could hear him smiling. “What’s so interesting about me?” I kept staring into the air, unsure if I should focus on Art, who still hadn’t started playing, or the phenomenon sitting next to me. Arrogant, just like the blond guy who’s been emotionally torturing me for months. “Well, first of all, I’ve never heard of you. You’re a surprise,” he said as if it was obvious. And it stung a little, even though I knew the chances of Art talking about me were slim to none. “Maybe you’re the problem, Pete,” I muttered, snapping my fingers like I was trying to recall his name. “Patrick,” he corrected, laughing, making me look at him. He had a loud laugh, unapologetic. I knew his name was Patrick, and he knew I knew, but he still found it amusing.

“Maybe you’re the surprise,” I told him. “He doesn’t talk about you either.” I tried to sound unaffected, like everything was fine. The game started, and Art looked distracted. Maybe he always looks like that when he plays tennis- I’ve never watched his games before, he’s never invited me. “You’re supposed to watch the other side too,” Patrick whispered in my ear, causing me to roll my eyes. “Hey, Stats Girl,” I heard the familiar voice of Tashi Duncan just before she sat next to Patrick, cursing the day I decided to trust Art Donaldson and show up at his game. “The one and only,” I muttered with the best smile I could muster, feeling myself blush at the ridiculous nickname she gave me. “How’s he doing?” she asked Patrick. I wondered what their connection was. “He’s good, you know, as usual. Ice.” he replied, and they started talking quietly about the game, about Art, and about the opponent.

All I could think about was how good Art looked. He looked as if everything came to him effortlessly, as if he didn’t need to try for anything—everything just happened. And I knew that wasn’t true, I knew he worked hard, trained, ate properly, invested in his studies, and that he was probably a good grandson and a good friend. He was good to everyone except me. “Are you enjoying the game?” Tashi asked, pulling my gaze away from Art for a moment. “Huh?” I asked, not understanding what she wanted. “The game, are you enjoying it? He’s playing well,” she clarified. “Yeah, he’s really good,” I mumbled. I didn’t know what else to add to make it sound convincing. “Leave her, Tash. She doesn’t know anything about tennis, she’s his cheerleader,” Patrick answered her, snickering. I shot him a murderous look. “Patrick, don’t be rude,” Tashi said, “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know how to behave around people,” she turned to me, as if he wasn’t there. “It’s fine,” I replied, feeling my leg start to shake from the frustration. They went back to talking about the game, and I suddenly felt how pathetic it was, showing up to watch him play. To come and see him in his element, when he wasn’t part of my life anymore. When his friend sat next to me, mocking me to my face. “I’ll be right back…” I mumbled, walking toward the exit. I had no intention of coming back. . . . Two hours later, there were chaotic knocks on my door. “You left,” Art walked in without waiting for an invitation the second I opened the door. He looked angry. “I told you I didn’t know if I’d stay, I have an exam tom-” “Bullshit. What’s your deal? Why did you come?” He practically shouted as I closed the door. “You asked me to come,” I mumbled. “I also asked you to stay, but you left in the middle, so what was the point of you coming?” He crossed his arms. I don’t think I’d ever seen him this angry. He’s always calculated and calm. “Did he say something?” he added, asking a question. “What?” I returned, not understanding what he was talking about. “Patrick, did he say something to you? Why did you leave?” He asked again, speaking to me like I was a child. “He didn’t say anything to me. I left because I didn’t understand what I was even watching. I don’t know anything about tennis, Art, and I have an exam to study for,” I tried to justify. “Enough with that exam. I heard you studying for it yesterday, you know the material, we both know you know it.” He sighed. “I didn’t ask you to come to give tennis commentary. I asked you to come because I wanted you in the crowd. I wanted to see you in the crowd,” he continued. I could hear the effort in his voice to keep it together, to not lose control.

“Tashi was in the crowd; that should be enough for you,” I muttered, lifting my gaze to him, seeing that he was already staring at me. We had never talked like this about Tashi. She had always been this figure hovering above us. He talked about her constantly, unrelated to anything. He talked about her like she was a god. He talked about how she played tennis, about her training, how she helped him. He talked about parties he only went to because Tashi wanted to go. But I never responded in a way that would let him understand that I knew. That I wasn’t completely clueless. That I knew he was completely in love with her. That he loved her the way I loved him and that nothing would change that. “Oh, so that’s the problem. You could’ve started with that. It bothered you that Tashi was in the crowd?” He chuckled. He fucking chuckled. “Why did it bother you?” He moved closer to me, and I had no choice but to avert my gaze from his piercing blue eyes, which felt like bullets at that moment. “It didn’t bother m-” “Look at me.” He was close enough to grab my head and turn it back to face him. “I asked you a question,” he added, not letting me escape. And if there’s anyone I didn’t want to talk about, it’s Tashi Duncan.

“Why did you invite me? Why did you want me in the crowd?” “Because I wanted you to see me play,” he answered without blinking, as if it was obvious. As if there wasn’t a single question I could ask him that he wouldn’t have an answer for. “You love Tashi, Art. You lo-” His lips were on mine the second I said it. Again, there was nothing calm or calculated about this kiss. He was trying to prove that he didn’t, that I was wrong. While we both knew I was right. “You can’t say things like that, Peaches. You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbled as he pulled away from me to catch a breath. “It’s okay that you love her. I’ve made peace with it. I just need you to let me move on, Art,” I sighed, trying to catch my breath again. “I don’t fucking love her.” He was angry; I could hear it in his voice. “What do I have to do to make you understand that you’re the only girl for me?” He kissed me again, and I could feel him getting hard from the way he pressed against me, causing me to moan into his mouth. “Yeah? Is this the only way I can get through to you? Is this the only way you believe me?” he asked, running his lips down my neck. "Art," it was half a moan, half a cry. My eyes closed, and as they did, I felt the weight of his hands on my shoulders, pulling me down until I was on my knees in front of him. I unbuttoned his jeans and quickly pulled down his boxers. I felt almost possessed as he sat on the edge of my bed, forcing me to crawl toward him. “There we go. Is this the only way I need to treat you for you to understand your place?” he muttered as I knelt before him again. I felt a light slap on my cheek from his cock, much more humiliating than painful. “I asked you a question,” he continued.

“N-no,” I mumbled. “Even your voice is annoying me right now,” he muttered, and without warning, I felt his cock in my mouth. He didn’t give me a moment to adjust, punishing me for leaving the match, maybe for bringing up Tashi, maybe for everything combined. You could never tell with him. I felt him hitting the back of my throat, and I tried to suppress my gag reflex with little success. Three months since he’d been in my mouth showed signs. “Shhh, you can do better than that,” he half-stroked my hair, half-held me in place by it. Then he pulled me back, leaving a trail of spit and precum. “You’re such a mess,” he chuckled, and again I felt a light slap of his cock against my cheek. I put my lips back where I knew he needed them the most, and this time, there was no gentle stroking of my hair. There was only a hand forcing me to stay in place as he used my mouth however he wanted. “Nothing to say now, huh?” he said, not very coherently, as I began to feel the warm, thick liquid spill into my throat. “Atta girl,” he patted my hair twice before letting me pull back.

I stood up slowly, trying to catch my breath. “Come here,” he mumbled, pointing to his thigh. I can’t refuse Art Donaldson, so I sat on his lap, placing my hands on his neck in an almost embrace, watching him smile. “Why is everything so hard with you?” he muttered, and his lips lazily found my neck. “I just don’t know what you want from me,” I responded, trying to focus on anything other than his lips currently on my collarbone. “I told you I love you,” he mumbled, his eyes locking onto mine. “You don’t mean that,” I shot back.

“Oh yeah?” His smirk spread across his face, and in seconds, he tossed me onto the bed as if I weighed nothing. He was above me. “For now, the one acting like a brat is you,” he said, his presence casting a shadow over me like a predator playing with its prey. “The one who left in the middle of my match is you.” His lips again left trails on my skin. I don’t even know when he took my shirt off. I felt a light bite on my nipple that made me moan. “Fuck, fa- Art,” I mumbled, unable to focus. “The one avoiding interaction with my friends is you.” His hand joined in, starting to torture my other nipple as his kisses moved further down. “I’m not,” I managed to respond, just as he easily removed my panties.

His breaths hovered over my pussy, short and hot, and if I didn’t know Art Donaldson so well, I would’ve thought he was looking up at me with almost a pleading expression. But he was in complete control. A small kiss on my lips, but not where I really needed him, made me shift my hips a little, and he chuckled- a laugh that was almost childlike. “Hey, ask nicely,” he managed to say, and I returned to the position I had before, legs around his head. “Please, Art,” I knew there was no point in arguing; he always got what he wanted in the end. “No problem, baby,” in seconds, his tongue was on my clit, starting slowly with circular motions and picking up speed with every moment. “There you go, you’re almost there,” he muttered, pulling back just before I could come. “What-” I tried to catch my breath again, craving the euphoria only he could give me at that moment. “I want to be inside you,” he answered without waiting for the full question, and in an instant, his cock filled me, making me moan. “Fuck,” I managed to mumble, feeling my eyes roll back. “Hold on a little longer, Peach,” he said, slipping his finger into my mouth like he liked to do, watching my lips close around it. “Now,” he muttered, pushing it deeper into my throat while he thrust into me, feeling me tighten around him like only an orgasm from him could make me do.

He fucked me stupid. There’s no other way to describe what I experienced, and as we both tried to catch our breath, I wondered how long it would take for him to leave this time and what his excuse would be. “Don’t you have practice tomorrow?” I quietly asked, trying to throw him off balance for a moment. “No, but I don’t know anything for the stats exam,” he admitted and chuckled. “Art! I taught you all the material yesterday,” I rolled my eyes. “I can’t concentrate when you’re teaching me.” “Then why did you ask for help?” It was my turn to laugh. “Because you’re the most beautiful when you’re in your element,” he shrugged like it was obvious. Like hearing me talk about statistics would make him fall in love with me. Like it wasn’t what I felt two and a half hours ago when he played tennis, until I almost choked on love.

“When are you going home?” he asked, probably knowing my last exam was in statistics. “I’m not,” I replied casually, and he quickly shifted positions. “Why the hell not?” he asked, and I saw a small wrinkle form between his eyebrows. “It’s no big deal, Donaldson,” I chuckled, “I picked up extra shifts, and I have a paper to work on. Speaking of shifts, I need to get ready for mine.” I added as I checked the time. He watched me as I walked around the room, trying to decide if I smelled too much like sex to push the shower until after work. “Are you coming to the study marathon tomorrow before the exam?” he asked, starting to get dressed too. “Of course,” I looked at him like he was crazy. “Don’t think about skipping it, Art. You need it,” I said, knowing exactly who I was dealing with. “Okay, Mom,” his voice was amused, and I rolled my eyes, looking at him for another moment. We don’t get too many moments like these. Almost domestic. Almost mine.

"Hey, we're good, right?" he suddenly asked, holding my hand and not letting me continue running around the room. "Yeah, Art, everything's fine," I smiled half-heartedly, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Because I don't want another two months like these," he muttered, and I knew it was hard for him to admit. It was hard for him to say that the past two months had been strange, to say the least. Difficult, to be honest. "Me neither." I nodded at him. "When are you flying home?" I asked as we were both already outside the door, after I had locked it. "Four hours after the exam, I’m supposed to be on a flight," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wow, two weeks at home, excited?" I asked. "Not that much, mostly glad I get to visit my grandma. She follows my matches with her entire retirement home, it’s a big deal for her." "Ooooh, you've got fans, Donaldson?" I joked. "You know I do," he replied. "Seriously though, why aren’t you going home?" he added. "It’s not that deep, just an opportunity to make some extra money. Plus, my mom and I aren’t in the best place right now," I shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. "Don’t you miss home?" he asked. "Not like most people probably do," I smiled at him. "I hate it when you smile like that," he said and suddenly stopped. "How?" I asked, looking at him as if he were crazy. "Without teeth. That’s your fake smile," he replied without blinking, as if it were strange that I was even asking. "I didn’t think you noticed," I mumbled. And I really didn’t think there was a possibility that Art Donaldson paid attention to details that, until now, I thought only I noticed about him. "I’ll see you tomorrow at the marathon?" he asked when we reached the point where I was supposed to head to the cafeteria and he to his dorm. "Don’t be late," I ordered, giving his face a small push, watching him chuckle and walk away from me. . . .

The next morning, I woke up with the worst headache I’d ever had in my life. I felt my nose was blocked, and I knew for sure I had a fever, though I had no way to measure it. 'Where are you?' -A-

'Sick, I’ll come for the exam' -(Y/N)-

'What’s wrong with you?' -A- I didn’t respond to that message, preferring to sleep a bit more before waking up for the statistics exam.

I got in the shower, and when I got out, I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing my flushed cheeks as a contrast to my pale face. There was no mistaking it when you looked at me- I wasn’t at my best. The auditorium was partially full when I entered, people chatting among themselves, and I looked around, seeing Art already staring at me before he approached, getting ahead of Janet, who shot me a questioning glance. "Well, you look like shit," he stated, placing his hand on my forehead. "Fuck, Peaches, you’re burning up," he muttered, looking at me with an almost angry expression. "How did you manage to start dying in the minute and a half I left you alone?" he said. "I’m talented, Donaldson. Can you not yell? My head hurts," I mumbled, sitting in the empty seat I found.

The exam went smoothly and ended faster than it began. I physically couldn’t wait for Art to finish, so I texted him, hoping he’d enjoy his time at home, and I went to sleep. Half an hour later, there was a knock at my door, chaotic like the one from the day before. "Hey," he muttered. "You’ll miss your flight," I replied, running a tired hand over my eyes. "I’m not flying," he said quickly. "What?" I asked, not understanding what he was talking about, seeing him take off his shirt and pants, left only in his boxers. "Art, I physically can’t have sex," I chuckled, not understanding what was happening. "We’re going to sleep," he declared, pulling me toward him, leaving me no choice but to get into bed next to him. "Your bed’s worse than mine. Tomorrow we’ll sleep at my dorm," he stated.

"You're going to get sick too" I rolled my eyes, "Why aren’t you going home?" I asked quietly, while his hand traced shapes on my shoulder. "It felt weird going home when you’re sick and staying here," he replied, not ashamed for a second. "Your grandma must be disappointed," I mumbled. "I told her my girlfriend is sick," he said. I wanted so badly to see his face, but I had my back to him. "She must’ve been surprised you have a girlfriend," I said the first thing that came to mind, feeling my heart race. "Not at all, I talk to her about you all the time."

. . .

So here it is. The second part I didn't plan. Hope you like it even tho I wrote half of it while being super sick and didn't check my own grammar at all, so bear with me (a reminder: English is not my first language). Let me know what you think. It's always the best part. Also, I think I'm up for some requests. Let's see what we can come up with. Love you guys

#challengers fic #art donaldson #challengers #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #his favorite toy

339 notes · View notes

gummilutt · 1 year ago

Text

Autonomous crafting for all teen+ Sims

I've never before been so happy to share a creation! Get ready to get crafting, because it's about to get autonomous! Released today in collaboration with the wonderful @joplayingthesims who has built a community lot for the mod, seen in the pictures below. Exciting!

In my game, I have a community lot with crafting stations for Sims who can't afford one, or don't have space for one. But as I visited it recently with one of my college students wanting to learn flower arrangement, I got a bit depressed by all the empty stations and the other visitors just standing around chatting. I wondered if anyone had added autonomy, and I came upon iCad's autonomy enabler. While neat, it only adds autonomy for the active household which is the opposite of what I wanted. So I made my own that enables it for visiting Sims as well, only to quickly realize how annoying that got. All these Sims asking me to pick a recolor for them, blergh! So I went on tweaking, fixing the annoyances as they came up, and here we are! Finally it is possible to have a lively crafting studio where all Sims participate, without being annoying for you the player! Are you excited? Because I am excited!

What does the mod do? - Enables autonomy on "make many" and "continue" (see readme for more info on why not make one) for all five original crafting types - Robots, toy making, flower arrangement, pottery and sewing - Does NOT charge your Sims money for background Sim crafting. Money sounds and visuals show for all Sims, but only your current households crafting charges household funds. - By default only autonomous on community lots. Has optional autonomy on residential/apartment lots, you can enable autonomy on those lot types by placing the Autonomy Toggler object somewhere on the lot (custom object made using parts of the FT crafting clutter, found in hobbies/misc for 1 simoleon). I set it up this way as residential autonomy sounds irritating to me, but I'm all about flexibility for the user. Perhaps you want to run arts classes at your residential playable school, or you simply like autonomy more than I do :) Please note that autonomy advertisement is tuned with community lot use in mind, so it might be higher than you'd want for residential. If there's interest I am happy to make a second version with lower advertising for those who primarily want residential use. If you are somewhat familiar with TTAB edits yourself, you can try changing attenuation code to low or medium to limit advertisement distance which will reduce appeal to Sims. VER 2: Toggler object now also works on community lots, turning off autonomy if present on community lot. Residential/apartment behavior remains the same as before. - Fixes annoyances with background crafting, such as selecting recolors and pop ups about progress - Changes inventory mechanics to allow for owned studio-type use, in case you'd like a friendly owner Sim present to provide instruction. Crafting now only goes to business lot owner if done by an employee, otherwise crafting Sim gets the object. Includes home business, so if it bothered you that family members don't get to keep their work, this also fixes that. If that part annoys you, see readme for how to remove this feature.

Download mod on simfileshare | Download ver 2 on simfileshare (New version out, fixing a bug reported by Nemertes. More info here)

You might say "Okay well fun for you Gummi, but I don't have a community lot with crafting stations, so why would I need this?". Well fortunately Joandsarah has the solution for that problem! Check out the cute crafting studio she built to give all of you a place to start community crafting! Available on MTS

Conflicts: Only known conflict is iCad's original autonomy enabler, you have to pick if you want hers version of autonomy, or mine :) Readme contains breakdown of the functionality of all parts, to help you decide a load order should you encounter conflicts. It should be possible to resolve conflicts though if there are any others, so please report them to me :)

Credits: @joplayingthesims for collaborating with me and providing a lot that you can get started with if you don't have one, iCad at @dramallamadingdang for the original autonomy enabling mod, @cityof2morrow who helped playtest the mod

If anyone else builds a community lot intended for autonomous use, I hope you let me know somehow so I can add links to it in my post :) If any other modders see ways to improve on what I did, please feel free to do so :) I am hoping to eventually post an update that sends all crafting to inventory to fix the make one issue, and the station clogging that happens over time.

#gummiluttmods #ts2 mods #ts2 gameplay #ts2 crafting #ts2 cc

706 notes · View notes

spiritually-a-deer · 4 months ago

Text

୨⎯ 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷⎯୧

♡ about me ♡

౨ৎ you can call me elodie (she/her) ^^

౨ৎ 15 yrs old

౨ৎ deer disguised as an insane teenage girl

౨ৎ infp and aquarius

౨ৎ german (whatever stereotype youre thinking of rn im not like it)

౨ৎ hopeless romantic

౨ৎ married to evan peters, cillian murphy, kurt cobain, tim burton, emma watson, taissa farmiga, mia goth, winona ryder, helena bonham carter, elizabeth grant and brittany murphy

౨ৎ hobbies: reading, writing, girlblogging, listening to music and true crime pods, watching movies and shows, baking and yapping with my very few but lovely friends

౨ৎ books: the bell jar, the virgin suicides, my year of rest and relaxation, christiane f, the seven husbands of evelyn hugo, the picture of dorian gray, the silent patient, the secret history, tributes of panem, harry potter, enola holmes, truly devious, the little prince and literally anything by kafka, rick riordan and holly jackson

౨ৎ movies: girl interrupted, black swan, thirteen, american psycho, perks of being a wallflower, jennifers body, pearl, buffalo 66, coraline, dead poets society, léon: the professional, the menu, the craft, my girl, i believe in unicorns, ten things i hate about you, wicked 2024 and literally anything by sofia coppola, tim burton, david fincher, greta gerwig, wes anderson and studio ghibli

౨ৎ shows: ahs (favs are murder house, coven and asylum), skins, arcane, gilmore girls, bojack horseman, stranger things, spn, barbie: life in the dream house, asoue, obx, heartstopper and ianowt

౨ৎ music: lana, mitski, nirvana, hole, mazzy star, fiona apple, ethel cain, deftones, radiohead, the smiths, fleetwood mac, tv girl, marina, tyler the creator, queen, david bowie, arctic monkeys, the nbhd, ayesha erotica, solya, bambi baker and a lot more

౨ৎ other things i love: art, poetry, cats, deers, swans, iced coffee, dr pepper, trees, old parks, cemeteries, coquette, grunge, y2k, lego flowers, spotify, tumblr and pinterest

♡ about my blog ♡

i'll post relatable girl stuff, my interests, fashion inspo, moodboards, random thoughts and whatever i feel like ^^ everythings mine unless i say otherwise

dms are always open if you wanna talk or be friends <3 i love meeting new people ^^ if you wanna be moots just tell me in my question box! you can also ask anything there, i love answering to these ^^

dni: racists, homophobes, transphobes, fascists, zionists, pedos, nsfw blogs, probably forgot some but yeah im a minor and liberal so i think you get the idea of what i don't tolerate

healthy and pro recovery ed and sh blogs without triggering imagery and stuff are totally ok but if you romanticise this shit, (re)post thin$po or scars and dont want to get better pls pls dni or i will report you bc im trying to improve my mental health and that stuff is not helping at all

♡ other socials ♡

other blog (moodboards of my interests)

spotify (it's kinda messy im sorry)

pinterest (i post more whispers there)

⁠♡ ok i hope i did this right byeee angelss ⁠♡

152 notes · View notes

luigixfanxayjay · 1 month ago

Text

game!luigi headcanons!!!

i keep seeing a lot of people make headcanon dump posts, so i decided to make one of my various luigi headcanons myself! heres to anyone who wants to read this post! i hope none of you mind the tags, and i apologize if i bugged you!

@peaches2217 @pianokantzart @loud-kid2 @jelly-fish-wishes @itsavee4117 @silenzahra @supa-mehyro @supergay-64 @acen402 @totallyking @oh-my-gosh-its-j0sh @dayseedrawz2 @bberetd @megamagimugi

-_-_-_-_-_-

- luigi has autism spectrum disorder, he was diagnosed at a young age along with marios adhd diagnosis. he also has generalized anxiety disorder and sometimes depression, but he has found many great ways to cope throughout the years.

- luigi LOVES cows. any animal he doesnt know the name of would be called "cow". he uses this as a placeholder word, and he doesnt express the fact he doesnt know the animal directly.

- anytime luigi is overly scared, nervous, shy, or excited, he tends to have a stutter. for him, its hard to find many words in this state.

- you may think luigi is just a plumber, but he also has many different hobbies! these include mechanics, arts, sports (especially tennis!), photography, gardening, and even music!

- luigis favorite colors are green and "porpol" (his pronounciation, not mine).

- luigi is bisexual. he has a strong romantic relationship with princess daisy, but fails to admit it to anyone other than his loved ones in fear of judgement. he also has had interest in prince peasley, but unfortunately wasnt able to talk to him about it before they departed.

- luigi hates loud noises, which led to a childhood fear of lightning and explosions. thankfully, his fear of that significantly lessened thanks to his thunderhand.

- luigi posts polterpup content EVERYWHERE on social media. he may be a cat person, but polterpup is a STRONG exception. have i mentioned he loves his pet ghost dog with all of his heart?

- luigi is generally a pretty emotional guy. barely slamming his hand on the wall? crying. getting a game over in a video game? crying. watching a sad moment in a babies show? crying. just arrived at the doctors office for a checkup? crying. these were mostly exaggerations, but the fact that luigi is emotionally in touch when needbe still stands. this, of course, is a positive thing.

- pancakes is luigis favorite comfort food. he simply stims with joy just ready for a bite! he especially loves it with syrup and blueberries! mmmm... now im hungry!

- when luigi succeeds in battle, he breaks into the sickest dance moves. dont ask me why.

- luigi has a strong feeling of fear, almost anytime he feels it. its either "oh, this is scary :(" or "OH MY GOODNESS I AM PISSING MY PANTS IN TERROR I NEED TO DO SOMETHING OR ESCAPE OR ELSE IM GONNA PASS OUT!!!". absolutely NO inbetweens.

-luigis body has a hard time adjusting to temperature or sudden gait changes. goes out in 50° fehrinheit for a millisecond while wearing a baggy jacket, and hes shivering like a wet dog. he loses the cat powerup after using it for not even 5 minutes, and hes tumbling around as if he were incredibly drunk.

- speaking of drunk, luigi almost never drinks alcohol. he always drinks non-alcoholic alternatives unless on VERY special occasions such as his own wedding or a "our lives are saved again thanks to the bros" party.

- luigi prefers to not be the leader in groups. it makes him very anxious anytime he has to take that role, especially if its a larger group of unfamiliar people.

- luigi is so so so ambiverted. he doesnt want to socialize with new people as he prefers sameness and familiarity. but, when hes with people he knows such as mario and friends, he talks more than youd see in an eminem song. craziest part, hes actually great at making new friends.

- luigi enjoys storytelling. like mentioned in the last headcanon, he enjoys telling people he knows about his day or any sort of scenario that popped up in his head.

- luigi has a high iq, as he can use his logic quite well in tight situations. mario and luigi brothership shows that far enough.

- luigis thunderhand can be helpful, but sometimes it can cause more harm than good. hes normally invincible to his own attack and just lightning in general, but when hes under strong enough emotion, it can lead to his invincibility shield dissipating and him getting hurt.

-_-_-_-_-_-

thats all i have for now! someday soon i may work on headcanon posts for other mario characters and perhaps characters from different fandoms! lemme know if you wanna see more!

#headcanon #headcanon post #mario & luigi #luigi #luigi mario #super mario brothers #super mario #mario bros #writing #writers on tumblr

75 notes · View notes

madhatterbri · 8 months ago

Text

Special Interests | Lord Debling

Summary: Lord Debling takes a special interest in Y/N's hobby.

Author's Note: We are going to pretend that paint back then was non-toxic. 🤣

My masterlist for Lord Debling can be found here.

Taglist: @theworldofotps @plentyoffandoms

Lord Debling was hard at work to get his affairs in order for his next trip. Servants rushed the house all day to take care of his every whim. Only his most trusted servants were allowed in his study. Only those that he knew wouldn't go blabbing to the rest of the house.

"My Lord," his servant bowed his head. "I have arranged the study to your liking. Would you like to see it?"

Lord Debling smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, dear James. I'd like to make sure everything is perfect for my wife. Her hobby is a newfound interest of mine,"

"Yes, sir. Right this way," James smiled and led him to the study. The moment Lord Debling walked into the study, he knew he had made the right decision.

A large drop cloth covered the carpet in the study. In the middle of the cloth laid a canvas. One of her favorite artists drew the perfect nature scene on there. All her favorite animals were drawn wonderfully. He could see why that artist was her favorite. On the table next to the couch, her favorite drinks and treats were ready.

"James," Lord Debling called and checked his pocketwatch. "I do believe my wife will be back shortly from her parents. Please see to it she changes into her nightgown and joins me in the study,"

"Yes, sir," James bowed and strode out of the room. Lord Debling took a deep breath and closed his eyes. This was going to be the best going away gift ever.

Y/N wasn't sure if James heard her husband correctly when she came home that night. Change to her nightgown and attend to her husband in the study. She obeyed the commands her husband left for her.

"Come in," Lord Debling called when he heard the soft, familiar knock at the door. He was just lighting the last candle in the study. Y/N walked in and smiled at the romantic atmosphere.

"To what do i owe this pleasure?" She asked and closed the door behind her. Lord Debling smiled and removed his jacket and vest. Now, he was only left in a long sleeve white shirt and black slacks.

"I can not show a special interest in my wife's love for the arts?" He asked innocently. He walked to her and grabbed her hand to lead her more inside. Y/N followed him happily.

"Of course, my lord. I meant no harm," she answered. Y/N's huge smile brightened the room when she saw the canvas on the floor. Several bottles of paint and a paint palette were left on the floor. There was one thing she noticed immediately that was missing.

"I had your favorite artist draw this for you. I can see why he is a favorite of yours, darling. Magnificent," Lord Debling praised. She felt her heart fill with pride when he sang praises about her best friend.

"It is lovely. Thank you. I will have to run to my chambers. The brush seems to have disappeared," she pointed out. Lord Debling sat on the couch. He patted his lap for her to sit.

"Ah, yes, we will have James fetch them for us. Tell me about your day. I don't want to miss a single detail,"

Y/N told him about her day. The room filled with their playful banter and laugh. They sipped the drinks that were left on the table. She enjoyed the treats. All the sadness from them being apart was left at the door. They were in their own little sanctuary.

Lord Debling rested his back against the arm of the couch. Her back rested against his chest. His chin rested on her head. Y/N wished they could stay like this forever. Her eyes drifted to the canvas on the floor.

"I should tell James to fetch my brushes," she sighed and moved to stand up. Lord Debling wrapped his arms around her waist.

"That won't be necessary, my dove. There are other ways to get paint on a canvas," he assured her.

"My Lord?" She questioned yet gasped when his lips made contact with her neck. Heat could be felt between her legs the moment he found her sensitive spot. Her clit throbbed to be played with.

"I do believe you have piqued my interest in the arts, my love. We will be painting the canvas together in a non-conventional way,"

His hand reached underneath her dress. The warmth that came from her inviting him in. He grabbed her face to look at him. Her eyes filled with lust like his. She called out when his fingers rubbed between her folds, paying special attention to her bundle of nerves.

As her juices slicked his fingers, he started to toy with her entrance. He rubbed up and down before slipping the tips of his fingers in her. Lord Debling worked her up. Slowly inching his fingers inside of her before fully sheathing them inside.

He continued to toy with her before he felt the strains in his pants to be too great. The slick from her was cleaned up once he placed his fingers in his mouth.

"Put your favorite colors on the canvas. Do not be shy," he instructed her. She stood up with wobbly legs and squirted some paint on the canvas. Her husband stood up and removed his clothes. Her dress left her body and thrown to on the floor.

His kisses trailed from her neck to her breasts to between her legs. He placed a leg on his shoulder. She called his name the moment his tongue toyed with her. Y/N ran her fingers through his hair. He ate her out like a man starved.

"Come," he told her. "We have much work to do,"

That night was the most fun Lord Debling ever had with the arts. The nature man saw a different side to creativity. He wished he had taken an interest in painting years ago. Y/N was shy about it at first yet quickly warmed up to it.

They were simple at first. Missionary to warm her to the idea that turned him on all day. She wasn't used to the cold paint yet quickly forgot about it as the night went on. He turned her over and allowed her breasts to help paint the canvas. Lastly, he sat on the canvas, and she rode him before they both made it to their grand finale. By the end, they were satisfied with the art and each other.

With all the different positions, they were a thorough mess yet satisfied. They dressed before taking a much needed shower. Afterward, they went back to her chambers to continue where they started in the study.

Lord Debling sighed as he looked at a picture of his wife. He had only been gone for one month into his travels, but it felt like an eternity. Life was certainly lonely without his Y/N.

A series of colors over a variety of animals caught his eye. Unnoticeable by others, he could see where Y/N's breasts and butt laid when he took her. Maybe his wife could have picked another hobby he could show a special interest in. He smiled.

#fanfiction #bridgerton fanfiction #lord debling imagine #lord debling x reader #lord debling fanfic #lord debling fic #lord debling #alfred debling #alfred debling x y/n #alfred debling x reader

209 notes · View notes

shuenkio · 8 months ago

Text

𝐈 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 🎞️

Paring: Enha X male!reader

Genre: fictional.

Cw: obsession behavior, swearing (likely similar to yandere)

Summary: The richest boy's down bad for you so bad.

இLHS : He would be the mafia's son. Randomly saw you one day during his mission, grabbed his attention and wanted to get to know you more. Day by day, his obsession grows an unhealthy amount eventually until he wanna make you his without having no one to take you away from him. Despite being a male it is even better for him.

"Money, power, fame? I can give you everything even my body, just by being mine"

இPJS : He would be the gangster's son. However he didn't take the same path as his parents, instead he was the best chief in the country. He might look nice on the outside but he's also wild. You were one of the customers in his restaurant who visited regularly eventually he caught a feeling, but not you. He asks his parent worker to spy on you every day. Until.

"I can cook, I can clean but I can also be your husband too, my knife is sharp enough to cut someone if they're trying to steal you away from me! I fucking like you!"

இSJY : He would be the lawyer's son. He likes going out, to bars, girls, and clubs until his eyes lean on you, a poor new worker barista who working at his favorite bar. He immediately loves at first sight but in a naughty way. Not only he's stalking you, but he is already planned about how his life with you.

"Poor didn't suit you, married me you'll get everything you want darling, idc even if you have a dick"

இPSH : He would be the surgeon's son. Despite being his neighbors you often visit his house to give him company as his parents request. He is no longer feeling lonely and being loved by you, growing insanely jealous even when you're with your family more than him, yes. Until one day, he locks the door.

"There's no leaving until you take me as your boyfriend >:("

இKSN : He would be the psychologist's son. He might look lovely, kind, and cute but deep down he can also manipulate you. He has grown fond of you ever since you accidentally kissed his cheeks. He realized he was in love or more than love. Until one day he fools you by saying he was injured at his apartment, you rush to see him but when you step inside, he immediately locks the door and breaks the room access card into pieces.

"Give your BFF a hug, I missed you too much, my sarang(love)"

இYJW : He would be the 5-star Officer's son. The adorable face of him not only makes him look pitiful but also drives you to trust him. Fortunately, his planned work. You trust him too badly until he takes full advantage of you. You open your eyes to realize you're in his room.

"Scream it m/n my father is an officer, I could just use one trick on you, you're over but not unless you kiss me on my lip, now!"

இNSR : He would be the Data scientist's son. He likes a lot of things but he chooses to stick to his hobby for the time being, a photographer. Just a simple kindness from you during the heavy rain, you offered him an umbrella, His world turned pink unexpectedly. Ever since then his love for you grows dangerously until his room is full of your pictures.

"Pictures are not enough, I needed you to be here, my beautiful art"

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ CRD TO ALL PICS&DIVIDERS

🥹 SUNGHOON FF LATERALLY BLOW OUT MY PHONE Y'ALL LIKES IT SO MUCH? THANKS YOU !

152 notes · View notes

mysteryshoptls · 6 months ago

Text

SSR Kalim Al-Asim - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Kalim: Woah! I've seen this artist's work before. I think we have a bunch of their stuff on the walls back home.

Kalim: So, the Land of Dawning's National Museum of Art's gottem on display too, huh. Hehe, that's pretty neat!

Vil: Oh, this… I think this is a painting of the moment when the beloved princess and the impoverished, yet kindhearted young man were set to be married.

Kalim: Yeah, that's right! The guy on the left is the sultan, and…

Kalim: Just so the princess could marry who she wanted, he went and changed the law for her.

Vil: Oh, hello, Kalim. I wasn't expecting you to know the particular details of the tale.

Kalim: The attendants back home would read me books with their stories. I really like the ones that have happy endings!

Kalim: Oh yeah, and did you know? The sultan here loved to collect miniature models.

Kalim: In his room, he had carriages large enough even a kid could ride in it, and statues of horses with wings…

Kalim: He even had a model of the royal palace! Apparently he'd always be playing with it.

Vil: Mhmm. Quite the childish hobby for a country's ruler to have.

Kalim: Oh, is playing with models childish? I'm always playing with mine whenever I go back home.

Kalim: Once, I mentioned to my dad I was curious what our home looked like from above, y'see.

Kalim: So then, he went and made a miniature model of our whole estate and a special room to put it in.

Vil: He made something like that just because you asked one thing… I suppose I shouldn't expect anything less from the Asim family.

Vil: But if it had its own room… How big was this model, anyway?

Kalim: Uhhh… I think at first, it was about the size of a magic carpet.

Kalim: Back then, it was just the estate buildings, but before I knew it, the land had been tacked on as well.

Kalim: And every time we added to the house, the model got an addition too, so it just got bigger and bigger.

Kalim: Whenever we'd buy new furniture, the stuff in my room, or my siblings' rooms would move around and change, too…

Kalim: There was always some kind of change whenever I looked into it. Sometimes I really couldn't tell what changed, though. Ahahah!

Vil: Even your furniture is a part of the model? Well, isn't that ridiculously elaborate…

Kalim: Yeah! That model is super awesome! The small clocks and furniture actually function, and…

Kalim: The roof and the walls of the model are made of the same stuff as our actual home, so it looks just like it.

Kalim: Water'll actually come out of the marble fountains, and even the trees and lawn are apparently made of real moss.

Kalim: Anyway, since it's a perfect replica of my real home, it really lets me feel like I'm a giant!

Kalim: Oh yeah. And on the ceiling of the room with the model, there are monitors and sprinklers…

Kalim: So night can turn into day, or it can rain or whatever.

Kalim: If the switch next to the model is pressed while in nighttime mode, the whole model lights up and it's so pretty!

Kalim: Also, we'd get miniature elephants and camels on parade…

Vil: Enough already! You've already convinced me just how special your personal miniature model is!

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Vil: This is a painting of the Lord of the Underworld and his men.

Vil: From what I hear, the Lord of the Underworld's subordinates had the power to change their form and voice at well, and even could take on the appearance of children.

Kalim: Woah～ They must've been amazing. Oh, that reminds me, I once turned myself into an adult, y'know.

Vil: You turned yourself into an adult…? Do you mean you disguised yourself as one?

Kalim: Yeah! When I was little, my family and I went to go see a play and there was this one scene where a ruler dressed up like one of his servants.

Kalim: I wanted to try the dame thing, so that night after the play, I put my plan into action.

Kalim: Like, if I were to wear the household attendant's clothes and wear shoes with bigger soles, I'd look just like an adult, right?

Kalim: And then I even put on a huge hat and covered my face with sunglasses, too.

Vil: You really seem proud of yourself… And you're saying no one realized it was you?

Kalim: YEAH, IT WAS A PERFECT DISGUISE!

Kalim: They didn't even call my name, just said stuff like, "Perhaps it is time for bed, my young, esteemed colleague?"

Vil: They absolutely knew. No one in their right mind would tell their colleague to go rest in the middle of their duties.

Kalim: Eh? …YOU'RE SO RIGHT!! You're amazing, Vil. I never even realized before you said that just now.

Kalim: But then, how did they even figure out it was me?

Vil: I wouldn't call what you did a disguise or anything. All you did was wear your attendants' clothing.

Vil: Your behavior and speech were the same as usual, weren't they? Then there was nothing disguised. It was no different than you changing between your school or dorm uniforms.

Kalim: So if they figured it out 'cause of my behavior…? So then, I shouldn't've talked like I normally do, right?

Vil: Yes. Think back to the mannerisms of the attendants in your estate and how they treat you.

Kalim: Their mannerisms… Hmm…

Kalim: Oh, I think I got it! So I should've tried to speak more polite-like!

Vil: I wasn't really talking about something as minor as that, but… Well, I suppose that's a step in the right direction.

Vil: If you are going to disguise yourself as another person, you cannot just mimic them. You must completely change your mannerisms, speech, everything.

Kalim: I got it. Thanks for the advice!

Kalim: I know what I have to fix now, so… I gotta try again as soon as I can!

Vil: You're going to try again…? Here? And who exactly are you planning to disguise yourself as?

Kalim: Obviously, one of my family's attendants! This time for sure, it'll be the best disguise ever!

Vil: I think dressing up as an Asim family attendant would just be too conspicuous… But I do look forward to seeing how you pull it off.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Kalim: Woah! Look, Vil! There's a painting of a tea party.

Vil: According to legend, this tea party was ridiculously strange…

Kalim: It's super cool, don'tcha think! This is one of my favorite displays.

Kalim: It had teapots whistling along to songs, and plates that could be eaten after being doused in tea…

Kalim: On top of that, there was a cake that would fly up into fireworks as soon as its candles were lit!

Kalim: And their large table was just completely covered in all those tableware and foodstuffs! Awesome, right!?

Vil: …You look at that tea party and genuinely think it 'awesome'? It looks as though we have completely different tastes.

Kalim: Oh, you don't think so, Vil?

Vil: Mhm. That's because I like enjoying a quiet teatime.

Kalim: They say that the girl in the tale didn't even have time to drink her tea, so it sounded pretty fun to me.

Kalim: If I ever get to attend a tea party that's this chaotic, I'd totally be down!

Kalim: Ooh, or, should I throw a tea party myself? We can act out this specific scene.

Kalim: I bet it'd be fun to sing along with my dormmates as the teapots jammed.

Kalim: Oh yeah! Don'tcha think everyone'll be surprised if the teapots also danced and leaped around with the rest of us?

Vil: Yes, I'm sure they would be.

Kalim: Yeah, I can't just try to imitate the legends. It should be an even grander extravaganza!

Kalim: I'll have to prep a lot of edible plates… And a buncha different teas they can use to dip the dishes in…

Kalim: What's left… Oh right, the cake!

Kalim: I should make it a much larger cake than what the girl in the tale got.

Kalim: That way there'd be even bigger fireworks, and it'll get everyone real excited!

Vil: I can absolutely picture your dormmates running around so loudly.

Kalim: Right!? After that… Hmmm. Vil, you got any good ideas?

Vil: You shouldn't ask me, but instead ask your dormmates for their opinion.

Kalim: Yeah! Of course, I'll definitely check with them.

Kalim: But, I want to invite you too, Vil. So tell me, what kind of party do you want it to be?

Vil: [sighs] …I just told you. I would rather enjoy a quiet teatime.

Vil: Thank you for the invite, but I'll have to decline. Bye, now.

Kalim: Okay… Then you definitely gotta come to the next party I throw!

Kalim: All right, which painting should I check out next? Ooh! Is that…?

Kalim: Yeah, just as I thought! It's artwork that shows the young man marching in a parade on an elephant's back!

Kalim: There were 75 golden camels, 53 peacocks, and a bunch of other animals and dancers following him...

Kalim: Looks like he was trying to entertain the whole country on the way to visit the princess.

Kalim: He went through all that effort just to make everyone happy… There's no doubt about it.

Kalim: This guy is definitely an awesomely good guy. I'm a real good judge of character, after all!

Requested by @starshiningsirius.

#twisted wonderland #twst #kalim al-asim #vil schoenheit #twst kalim #twst vil #twst translation #twst birthday

135 notes · View notes

frillsand · 1 year ago

Note

☆ Adding a Star to the pile!

Honestly, it was a long time coming. Your actor AU is one of my all time fav AU's I've personally come across, and I always adore seeing what new stuff you've put up on your blog when you can. Whether it be text or images, I love seeing and reading them. You put a lot into it, and I enjoy seeing what you whip up in your art as well. It is a very nice and cute style to me.

I just, enjoy seeing your world building and thought you put into it, through the ask and illustrations you add. In fact, I even watched The Happy Time Murders (admittingly not great in story and way to immature humor for my normal taste, but has its upsides in puppetry and world building) just to get more background and ideas of how you were making this, and boy, are you scratching the worldbuidling itch that was left with me after watching it.

Aside from that, I also relate to some of the stuff you talk about, like your confidence in your art. It is nice to be reminded that we all have those doubts, even when subjectively the art is very nice. It just might be an artist thing, whether you're a professional or a hobbiest, to see how good everyone else's work is but your own at times.

Sorry if I'm a bit wordy, but I just like to gush sometime. I have been learning that I can tend to be a bit quiet on stuff I adore and enjoy, so giving my fave blogs a reminder that there are those like me who enjoy stuff kinda silently feels nice.

I’ve stared at your words for a while and even now as I try, the words still escape my mind. I can’t help but find your comment very comforting and reassuring to hear that my effort is visible, even if it’s only a hobby. I don’t usually have people looking my way so this is very weird to me, and I know there’s many AU’s to choose from, I’m just glad people spend the time to look through mine.

I might not respond to everyone but be assured that I look at every single comment and will continue to do so until the content stops and we all slowly part ways

#welcome home actor au #welcome home puppet show #wally darling #wally actor au #welcome home #actor wally darling

741 notes · View notes

2b-or-not2b · 30 days ago

Note

What do you look like without the makeup wig contacts eyebrows. & no filter. Please.🙏🏾 inshallah.

LOL. Generally, I leave messages to the effect of these alone, but the phrasing and the anonymity of this was too oddly specific to seem innocently enough(you could’ve respectfully asked what I looked like in a natural state, even though respectfully it is none of your business. Whether you may believe it was phrased with “good” intention). And it appears that I have time today, so a brief but not so brief presentation of some of the items you included 🥳…

Filter:

I get so many messages on here on the fact of that I use filters. If you go through most of my photos they have a filter. In most of my tags, this is apparent with a ‘Snapchat’ tag. Based on the culture of today, I’m not the only one who uses a filter and I find them to be fun and exciting. My persona on this app has nothing to do with me irl. While I upload solely pics from snap here, I have no problem using my portrait mode for people who see me on the daily. I don’t have an insta or most apps, so I still use snap. In full transparency, filters generally slim my face a little and smooth my skin. I think I also love the different snap effects. With PCOS, my face shape and fullness fluctuates anyways so it’s whatev tbh. Also, more than a filter goes into a photo, lighting and angles are also important.

Brows:

Brows literally frame your face, but filling them in generally just adds depth and darkness. It’s not a huge, huge difference (even though I crash out and I’m ready to throw up if my eyebrow lady mess them up). I do my makeup with one side of my face first, so here’s a comparison:

Contacts:

I’m forever getting messages on here about my contacts, so I’m happy to address this. I have no issue at all with my eye color. I feel like my natural eye color eats, and is so beautiful. My favorite feature are def my eyes, because not even trying to seem arrogant but my eye shape imo is what makes my eyes beautiful. The allure of my eyes is solely due to the shape. My natural eyes imo give such a sultry effect. I wear color contacts simply because of the positioning of my iris. Looking forward, my iris sits higher up leaving a huge portion of sclera underneath. It gives the appearance that I have strabismus, when I don’t. Like it looks slightly off, and makes it seem like my eyes have difficulty focusing. If a color contact matched my iris but had the same diameters of a colored contact, I would prefer to wear that anyways tbh.

Wigs:

I’m not gonna yie… my forehead is huge af and if I could pull my lace to my nose, I would ��. I love wigs because I can literally switch up my look with little effort. The man that God has ordained for me will literally feel like he has 5 different girls in one based on the switch up. And he will love me whether I am in my Meeks or not. I can literally go buss down, middle part, bob, blonde, or side. Not to be messy, but if you go through my tags, I definitely be switching it up. Like do you not get how I have the ability to play with my hair as much as I want. I love my natural hair as well, but I am too lazy to do it. I do believe that energy transference when it comes to hair is very real so I don’t let anyone else do my hair, and it’s def not a talent of mine so wigs it is. I literally just slap my wig on and go. Best part of my day is removing it and chilling in my bald cap. And trust, there’s only one man on this app, I would respectfully let wear me out, and based on the phrasing of the message, you’re not him babe. But he could def pull my braids on a good day 😭😩.

Makeup:

Makeup is my hobby. Makeup means a lot to me. A lot of y’all solely look at makeup as cat fishing or means to be a completely different person. My makeup collection cost $$$ and I won’t even get into that. I will say on a regular day, the cheapest thing on my face is my $27 brow pencil. Makeup is an art, no matter how much some people will think otherwise. I wear makeup because it’s expressive. I don’t go into Sephora or Ulta, cashing out because my goal is to make somebody’s lame son’s peen hard. I do it to push my skills. I do it for the compliments from the girlies that would literally have me geeking and blushing and cheesing for days. My connection to makeup has nothing to do with male validation and never will. If I had a dollar for every time someone said something about my preference for makeup, I would just go buy more makeup. I genuinely love makeup. It makes me happy, so no other opinion matters. 🫶🏾

SB: Please forgive my lifting lace, I was obviously complaining about it lol. Also without makeup, at times I appear younger. Recently, my makeup obsession is becoming more of a skincare obsession, but last time I checked it’s my money and that’s how I like to spend it. I don’t recommend policing people on how they spend their money. I hope whatever your hobby/passion is that you’re cashing out as well ❤️.

Now, I am unsure if your message came from a good place and it was just conveyed wrong. It felt slightly shady imo. If that wasn’t your intention, I deeply, deeply apologize and you can disregard the following!! I would say, a lot of the people on this app does eye pass me and it’s staring to rub me the wrong way. I’m always supporting other people and trying to be as polite and radiant as possible on here. Me and my wigs, contacts, filters, and makeup literally just mind our business, so I have no clue why people who don’t personally know me are always so inquiring. I come here to be myself, literally stay in my own lane, reblog things, and go. Anon messages that aren’t compliments or positive are hugely unnecessary to me. It was nothing to say: Do you have a picture with no makeup? How do you feel about your natural hair?, etc. I see some of the anons on here for others that are absolutely horrible. It’s irritating that some people can be so hateful or “bored”. Some of y’all def need to stop and think about the possible magnitude of what you have to say. You don’t know what it takes for some people to even post pictures of themselves. Some of y’all genuinely don’t like yourselves. The projection and one-sided relationship inappropriateness on this app can be really unsettling. A lot of y’all don’t have boundaries nor home training. I could never find it in my heart to send someone a message that feels like an attack on them or makes them reflect on their looks, purpose, etc. I have so much mutuals on here that are so uplifting and literally gems, and based on the decision to be anon, you’re clearly not one of them. (Also, again there’s only one man on here that I would let … 😮‍💨 lol ). Also, I put in mad work giving y’all a blog that y’all can genuinely reblog and like. My pictures imo are not the winning factor or reason that mutuals on here like me and bond with me. I feel happier receiving messages that someone likes my blog over than liking my picture. Furthermore, tbh I have NEVER once sent someone an anon message once within my 13+ years on this app because I can say everything I have to with my chest and fabulous tits. So simply to say, you don’t know me personally. Worry about you and please don’t send anyone else on here another anon like that. Socially, your phrasing is way off. Hope you have a great night 🫶🏾.

50 notes · View notes

orphiclovers · 10 days ago

Text

To Orvblr, From Orphic J. Lovers

I know I've been overwhelmingly pessimistic on this blog for the last few days, but looking back on this past year, it hasn't been all bad. And there's a reason for that.

Undeniably, the largest part of my life these past 8 (!?) months has been orv fandom and running this blog.

I've spent countless hours on this hobby of mine, writing meta and drawing fanart, but it has not been a waste of time for even one minute.

Sure, I've been annoyed but disregarding minor squabbles, orvblr has been an overwhelmingly positive force in my life. Sometimes the only positive.

It's been rough these past 5 months for me. Really rough. I can't overstate how greatful I've been to have this, this community and story there for me through it all - and it's not just empty words coming from me. I genuinely don't know if I would have made it without this story and all it's dear readers - very Kim Dokja of me, I know.

(These corny comparisons are more Lia's thing, but just one time this year I can speak honestly from the heart, right?)

I want to thank you, orvblr. Thank you for reading my thoughts and looking at my art, I've loved sharing it with you.

Thank you for all the supportive words and keysmashes you've left in my tags, thank you for sending me asks and encouraging my wilder ideas.

Thank you for following me (so many of you...) and liking my posts, thank you for participating in mine and mutuals event - the responses have been amazing.

Biggest thank you to @lialox and @auuwmk for handling my bullshit in larger quantities than most. Thank you for all my other mutuals too, you guys are the coolest people in the world.

Thank you for joking around, thank you for talking to me and thank you for putting a smile on my face every day.

It's been real.

Happy New Year, guys!

#my posts #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #new years #wow what a sap this orphic guy is

34 notes · View notes

tetsunabouquet · 9 months ago

Note

Hi! Could you do a nsfw scenario for Nash and Hanamiya in which they're bullying the girl that they like?

(18+ And with the slight increase of young, new KNB fans: If I catch you making NSFW requests to me I will be deleting the asks. A firm reminder to everyone that I don't write that kind of stuff for minors. I'm not named Colleen nor do I have a ukelele.)

Hanamiya

He grinned widely as he caught you doing something you shouldn't be doing. Now as a member of the Disciplinary Comittee, he couldn't just ignore you stealing a can of Coke from the vending machine. Even if you had forgotten your lunch money and looked like you were about to faint. If aything, he could use that to his advantage. "Now, now, y/n-san, aren't you a bad girl?" You froze at his voice and desperately started to shake your head. "Please Hanamiya-san. Forget you saw me." Hanamiya chuckled darkly, you just had to offer yourself on a plate, didn't you? "I could do that but honestly, I don't want to have this school turn into a breeding ground of disobedient little bitches." You flushed as those words sent a strange tingle down your spine. "I'm not a disobedient little bitch." You uttered the words with a shame you didn't quite understand. Hanamiya laughed as a reponse, and the poisonous edge to it brought tears to your eyes. "Oh really? I think a thief would qualify for being a disobedient little bitch. You're worse then that actually. You should be happy I gave you that compliment." Your lips were wobbling at the insults, and a tear rolled down your cheek. "I'm sorry." You apologized as you trembled and it was honestly making Hanamiya rather hard. "You know, I could see past this if you could be so good to help me with something." Your eyed widened and you nodded. "Of course. You know I didn't mean to do something bad." You said before you once more looked at your shoes at the sight of his intense gaze. Hanamiya's lips curled, and he unbuckled his belt as you gulped. "Be sweet and put that mouth of yours to use already." You fell on your knees, because it's not like you had any other choice and so you licked at his throbbing cock like the good girl you promised you were. You couldn't tell wether it was his cum or your tears that left such a salty taste but you swallowed it all up just the same.

Nash

College life was far less interesting as people had made it seem, so he tried finding some new hobbies outside of sports. Which is how he met you. The students who were following art or music programs would typically gather in one corner of the campus when they had no classes and they would all make art with everyone uplifting each other. The photography and film students would film the musicians for their YouTube pages and make photos of the paintings made under the bright L.A sky. They would allow people curious to sit with them and there always seemed to be someone willing to teach someone a few basic skills if they seemed interested. As a photography student, you always were springing about taking pictures of everything but honestly, Nash just wanted you to snap a picture of his dick and burn in into your memory and memory card alike. Which is why, when he got to corner you all alone, he took your camera away from you. "Hey, give that back!" "What? You think you look threatening to me shortie? I would tell you that you look like you punch as a girl, but you are one already." Your jaw dropped open as you saw him going through your photos. "Are you really studying photography? These look like dogshit," Nash commented and you felt rightfully defensive at the way he sneered at your pictures. "I am! You don't need to be such an asshole because it's not up to your taste." You scoffed. "First of all, don't you think you should be talking less shit when I have your camera? Secondly, I would like to know what you think qualifies as taste and how do you even know mine?" This man left you speechless and you tried to grasp at things to say but the words died on your tongue, tears slowly forming. "You know what, I'll give it back to you. But I do require a picture from you, and one of better quality then this garbage you snap." Your eyes immediately narrowed, sensing the direction of this conversation. "I am not allowing you to snap a nude of me." Nash once more curled his lip into a sneer as he said, "I'm not going to be the one taking any picture of you. Why would I want your ugly face and sullen expression? Didn't you teach me that it's better to capture something in the heat of the moment?" You did tell him something along those lines in an earlier conversation and he once more managed to silence you with the way he was analyzing your every move. You honestly were shaking from anxiety as his imposing figure loomed before you. "So how about you take a selfie when you're riding my dick." His free hand grabbed your ass and as your lashes fluttered from confusion and fear he planted the most sensual kiss on your lips, his tongue licking and teasing at your bottom lip in a way that made you lean forwards and press your body against his. There was no way of denying Nash what he wanted, and finally he would have you and that dirty picture.

#knb #kuroko's basketball #hanamiya #hanamiya makoto #nash gold jr #knb x reader #bullying #gaslighting #toxic knb x reader

70 notes · View notes

unhappy-last-resort · 5 months ago

Text

PGR Writing Game!

Pick a prompt and character of your choice and write it! There's no competing or any requirements to join, just write something!

Tag me, or use the #PGR writing game to participate! Time period is Aug 5th - November 1st

Further details and prompts (if you need them) below...

Info:

There is no specific trope or genre that you need to follow.

You can write whatever you want! Fluff, smut, action, horror, romance, whatever inspires you to write!

You can either post your work yourself, or submit a post!

Just make sure you give a pen name of some sort so I can credit you, otherwise I won't post it

Time frame is Aug 5th - November 1st

There is no word limit or requirement.

It can be 100 words, or 100,000. It's whatever you wanna write

You can post your work even if you're late

Struggling to write, or nervous about participating?

It can be hard to post your own work in fandom, maybe you don't feel like your work is "good enough" (there is no such thing, fandoms are community spaces, not corporate ones), or maybe you don't think anyone will like it.

Well, I've been there too! In fact, I think that all the time. Some things that have helped me keep posting my work despite that are...

Writing what you want to read

If you ever thought "I wish there was more X type fanfic", this is your sign! Writing what you want to read means you're passionate about it, and if you're passionate about what you're working on, it shows in your writing and other people will notice it too!

If you don't like what you've written, change it up!

Re-read what you've written and ask yourself "Would I read this?", "Would I enjoy it?", "Why, or why not?"

Identifying what's missing in your story will help you write with better direction. It could be as simple as adding more interesting and unique vocabulary, taking more time to describe scenarios or places to capture whatever vibes or feelings you want, or maybe adding something to the plot point.

Of course, these can be difficult to identify so you could try asking for help through the event tag, asking a friend, or asking me for help

What if people don't like it?

They can suck a dick. Okay, seriously though, most people won't do or say anything and if they do, I will eat them. You go post that lovely piece of art

My work isn't getting as much attention as X persons/Why aren't I getting a lot of notes?

Well, there can be a lot of reasons behind that. First and foremost, tags. Are you using all the tags that you could be? The PGR fandom is pretty niche in and of itself, so chances are that there a lot of people who would love to read some PGR fanfic, but they think the scene is dead and aren't looking for it, or they're only looking in the #pgr, #punishing gray raven, or #punishing: gray raven tags

Secondly, your font. Other fonts like

This

Or this

can be busy on the eyes which can make it both difficult to read and unappealing to look at it. Using the default font at a normal, or smaller size is generally your best bet.

Lastly, why is X person's work getting more attention than mine?

Like how writing is a hobby, so is reading. Some people may not have been interested at the time, or you just have to wait. Writing has the benefit of being pretty timeless, so that means people will come to read your work months or years after it's been posted.

It's also important to remember that PGR isn't a large fandom, so unlike other fan works on Tumblr, notes won't accumulate as quickly

Focus on your enjoyment of what you're making

Remember, fandom is a community space and this is a community event. You should be having fun, first and foremost

Everyone is scared

Everyone from a random blog who just posted their first writing ever, to your favorite author of several years with hundreds of works is scared of posting sometimes. It can be easy to fall into the pitfalls of thinking you're somehow annoying everyone in the fandom by posting a bunch of words, or being scared that a post won't do well. You're not alone in your paranoia, so try to be nice and encourage both yourself and others you see who might be struggling. You've got this!

Prompts:

You can write with any perspective or character(s) you want, I only have the "you" here to help you get immersed in the prompt. You may change the prompts as you like to fit your story telling.

The artificial sun of Babylonia's sky warms your skin. It's lively today, with children playing, couples shopping, and individuals heading for their morning coffee. You were no different, briskly walking towards a cafe you had agreed to meet someone.

You push the cafe door open and a bell chimes above you as you walk into the establishment. The golden rays of sunlight stream through the large, glass windows, cascading down on the patrons inside and giving the cafe a new sense of warmth. The aroma of freshly made coffee fills the air, pastries sit tantalizingly in the display cabinets, and a barista is busy making a drink behind the counter.

Just as you're about to step forward to the counter, the bell chimes behind you and you turn to see a familiar figure.

The Science Council is busy today, well- they're busy everyday, but today feels especially important. Scientists frantically type on their terminals, constructs and officers going in and out. Even Celica stopped by for a moment, hurriedly exchanging words and documents with Asimov before leaving just as fast. You tried asking what was going on, but everyone seemed too busy to talk to you. At that moment, Asimov walks up to you.

The scent of salt and water fills your lungs, sand shifting beneath your feet. You wander along the shoreline, various hopes and worries aimlessly run through your mind, coming and going as quickly as they came to you. You're so lost in thought that you didn't hear the soft crunches of sand coming up behind you.

The stars twinkled above you, cold wind rustling the trees and biting at your skin. You did your best to ignore the cold, after all, it was part of why you could travel without running into too many enemies on the way. Even still, the air held a strange tension, as if even the trees were holding their breaths, waiting for something, or someone.

The lounge felt uniquely quiet. That shouldn't be surprising, it was just you here right now, the other members of your squad were busy with their own duties at the moment. Even so, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of loneliness. Sighing, you stood up and wondered what you should do to occupy yourself. Should you clean and organize equipment? Maybe clean the lounge? Or...do something less productive? Look at old photos and logs, indulge in a private hobby? It has been a while since you found yourself with so much free time.

"Ah, there you are." Vonnegut's voice reverberates throughout the room, he speaks evenly, calmly, but you still feel the tension rise in your shoulders. A heavy gaze of displeasure and expectation weighing down your soul and keeping you from moving an inch.

Vonnegut sits on his throne, hands folded, legs crossed, golden mask and eyes glinting in the limited light.

"You've kept me waiting for quite a while."

You exhaled shakily, nervously readjusting your formal wear for the upteenth time. You could hear the cacophony of chattering voices, and clinking silver wear, occasionally cut through with the chime of a glass knocking against a plate through the other side of the door. You knew the moment you opened it, the sounds would become overwhelming, drowning out all personal thoughts and suffocating you.

Nevertheless, you couldn't linger in this dark, isolated hallway any longer than you already have.

The library was quiet as always, but it was even quieter now that the nighttime hours on Babylonia had begun. It was a perfect place to hide in solitude and wander in your thoughts, or even go through old memories of your life.

It felt eerie. The stained wallpaper, scattered furniture, broken windows with beams of moonlight streaming through. You had received a comms signal in this abandoned mansion, but now that you had stepped foot inside, it was gone. You walked quietly, keeping an eye out for any potential traps as you stepped through the halls. A creak of floorboards sounds above you, a door opens, footsteps...and silence. You froze, should you retreat? Call out? Try sending out a comms signal? Investigate? You chewed your bottom lip and as you're still deciding what to do, you hear another creak.

Right down the hallway.

#PGR writing game #pgr #punishing gray raven imagines #punishing gray raven #writing game

31 notes · View notes