#I think this is also the first time drawing some of my own lads here on this account

[agent-gladhand]

Big Ol' Artfight Dump! Got a few more done than last year and happy I managed to yoink most of who I wanted to this year :D

OC parents tagged under the cut!

Alu - @alubearsworld

Nova - @cuppajj

Felis - @drag0n0fbutt3r

Cheddar - @acatpiestuff

Ruka - @aservantnamedketchup

Eevee Akari - @waywardstation

Simon - @tjsstuff-stuff

Leek the Kaiju - @/ultradoublejump (twitter)

Nova Rhapsody - @pigdemonart

Doudeis - @divatheeva

Sophie - @/potentialfa (twitter)

Basil Mallory - @/rngr01 (twitter)

Sapphire - @sapphirecereal

[cno-inbminor]

praestigia

NOTE: this is the completed version of the fic, including part 1. some minor edits have been made to part 1, but that's about it. once again, thanks sylus for being my first lads fic! as always, much love to spence for bullying me into finishing this

plot: formally speaking, sylus is a...sponsor. more colloquially, he's your sugar daddy -- and you're starting to wonder if he might actually want more. (wc: ~13.1k)

cw: this is all AU and does not include, like, any game lore (aside from that it's happening in linkon city). afab!reader, also a phd student, toxic behavior [miscommunication], explicit smut [dom/sub dynamics, slight bondage, underwear as a gag, size kink if you squint, fingering, some degradation, possessiveness, squirting, overstimulation, some choking, no protection aside from implied birth control], angst, some fluff, open ending. mdni!

[ao3]

-

The skyline of Linkon City never fails to captivate you, blinking lights of tall, corporate buildings, the specks of light dotted across the sky, the blur of beams weaving through the roads – no matter which angle you look at it from, the view will inevitably take reign over your focus. So much so, that you do not notice the imposing figure approaching you from behind. He can only draw your attention by placing both hands on your shoulders, jumping slightly as you blink and remember where you are. A wave of flashbacks crashes through your mind as you are gently turned towards him, your back facing the window now.

“Perhaps I should find it somewhat offensive that the view never fails to take your attention away,” Sylus remarks, his tone unmasked in his teasing and playfulness. His scarlet eyes peer past your shoulder to see if there was anything interesting or out of the ordinary. “Do I need to start booking rooms without windows?”

“Don’t be silly,” you gently admonish, moving past him to grab a drink of water. His eyes burn the skin on your back, though you are familiar with this gaze. “Thank you for letting me rest here.”

“Do you really think that after all this time, I would leave you to pay for a hotel room yourself? Or to find your own transportation home?”

“It’d be understandable. I can see where you would be coming from if you made those requests.”

“I must say, I am a little wounded, kitten,” he drawls in mock pain. Instead of waiting for you to return and remain close to him, he situates himself on the bed first and leaves ample room for you to lay next to him.

The gesture invokes warmth, exudes comfort, and stands familiar as you climb onto the mattress with ease and memory. Sylus stretches out his arm next to you, and his pose quietly begs for you to cuddle into him.

And so you do. Sylus’s stature and frame, of course, never fails to envelop you during these moments of tranquility. Your chest pressed against his side, a leg crossed over his, your nails drawing patterns over his bathrobe and exposed abdomen – security, strength, and affection, once again, never fails to help you relax.

Because this is what happens after every gala, every fundraiser, every grand opening, every social event that you accompany Sylus to. This routine of being in hotel rooms so high above ground with breathtaking views, burrowing into him, oftentimes burying himself inside you, and separating the next morning with an implicit understanding of exactly where you stand, is what you two had agreed upon all those months ago. And in return, your financial stress disappears into thin air, leaving you to study and engage in hobbies without such a heavy burden on your shoulders.

Despite his constant reassurances that he can clean up whatever mess you may end up making, they do not negate just how tiring and draining these events end up being. Constantly putting on airs, overexposing your practiced smiles, making sure that there is not a single hair out of place, switching to what you like to call “fancy people table etiquette” – Sylus sponsored and, in a way, hired you to be as close to perfect as possible, and so, you must do as such to uphold your end of this business relation. Tonight has been a little more taxing than usual, as somewhere along the way, he felt the need to buy you anything that captured your attention for more than a few seconds. He would bid a ridiculous price that would dissuade any other potential customers, their expressions of defeat when they pass by causing him to secretly gloat that everyone has learned at least one thing about him: he will get what he wants.

You had caught onto this shenanigan after the third item, and you made sure to school your gaze away from the auctioned items. But because he always seems to know what plays in your mind, he complains, “You never let or ask me to buy you things anymore.”

Your eyes had closed shut during your time of reflecting on tonight’s events, and they continue to remain as such. “I have very little closet space. At this point, I think I’ve probably swapped out 90% of my wardrobe because of you. People are starting to get suspicious.”

“Then why not move out and find a bigger apartment? You know I can afford it.”

“Sylus–”

“I know, I know,” he interrupts. If he were anyone else, you would have scowled at him. “It would be too far from campus, become inconvenient, and you feel it is too much to ask for.”

As the conversation suggests, this is not the first time Sylus has brought up this proposition. What remains unsaid is how you would be closer to his residence if you were to move to one of the many apartments he had in mind, all of which would reduce your commute to his place down to walking a block or two; not a twenty-minute drive.

“Just say the word, and it will be done,” Sylus murmurs into your hair. When he realizes he has received no response, your soft snoring greets him before he can inquire any further. With a heavy sigh, he reaches out and switches the nightstand light off, leaving the darkness to swallow you both. His eyes fall shut in tired ease, but his grip around your shoulders remains firm.

-

It comes to no one’s surprise that you feel less than well-rested when your alarm starts blaring at 5:45AM. You had an early class today, so you had to give yourself ample time to make it home, change, wipe away any lingering smudges of last night’s makeup, and try to appear as…casual as possible. Not wanting to wake him up so much that he cannot fall back asleep, you reach out for your phone and click one of the volume buttons, rendering it silent. Sometime in the night, your position had changed to Sylus spooning you. His limb slung over your waist is heavy, making it all that more difficult to leave – not just physically, but mentally as well.

Like ripping a bandaid off, you have every intention to quickly remove yourself from his embrace. But Sylus, being the infuriatingly light sleeper that he is, immediately tightens his hold around you as soon as you attempt your escape.

“Sylus, I need to go,” you whisper.

He presses you impossibly closer to him. “I will drive you to your apartment. Sleep.”

“No, I’m taking the subway.”

“Why take the subway when you have me?”

“If anyone needs rest, it’s you,” you say pointedly, because it’s true. Being the CEO of a business that may or may not be totally legal (you never ask because honestly, the less you know, the better) is not exactly a 9AM-5PM job. There have been more times than you can count when he would be pounding into you and forced to take a phone call. Granted, that doesn’t stop him from grinding into you and grinning devilishly when you bury your face into the nearest pillow to muffle your moans and whines.

“Speak for yourself,” he grumbles into your hair. “You haven’t gotten more than six hours of sleep every night for the last week.”

“And how exactly do you know this?” As soon as you ask, you already know the answer.

The app for– “Your smartwatch.”

“One of these days, I will disconnect my account from that app.”

“I would like to see you try.”

And you will. Just, when you’re not trapped in his arms.

“I’m still taking the subway,” you backtrack, though your voice is quieter than before. A tiny sense of relief fills you when his embrace loosens, and you can finally crawl out of bed. It’s harder than it seems to squash the distressed voice in your head complaining about how easy it was for him to let you go. As you pick up all your clothes and make your way towards the bathroom, you notice his phone sitting innocently by the room’s coffee machine. After looking over your shoulder, you swipe it off the counter and bring it with you.

Guessing his passcode is harder than you thought – the man has an ego the size of the entire universe, so you figure it would be something personal: his inaugural date as CEO, his birth year, his birthday, or others. On your last, desperate attempt, you type in four digits and find yourself absolutely floored at the view of his, now, unlocked phone.

Your birthday.

There is no time to dwell on the implications of it all, and you chalk it up to the fact that no one really knows you outside of being his typical date or escort. Therefore, the passcode would be that much harder to guess than the route that you had originally gone for. Yes, that’s all it was: an extra layer of security.

Sylus’s phone is surprisingly unorganized, random apps thrown into folders that they do not belong in, leaving you to search for the fitness app that your watch is not only connected to on your own phone, but somehow also on his. You press the buttons necessary to delete your watch data from his end. When you are ready to close the app, you cannot help but notice the preview of his messages app and the texts within. Your thumb swipes away the fitness app and shakily taps the messages window that stares hauntingly at you. It had been left open on a conversation with another woman, if you had to guess based on the name sitting at the top.

My parents are getting antsy, and so is your grandfather.

That is none of my concern.

Unfortunately, it is. They’re not exactly happy about the woman you keep bringing as a partner.

Our arranged marriage is not a publicly known detail.

And I’d like to keep it that way. But Sylus…

What?

We can’t delay this much longer. You’re running out of time.

The exchange tells you enough, just enough for you to realize the situation you find yourself in. You suddenly recall an incident in the beginning of this relationship with Sylus when he described this arrangement, him as your sugar daddy, as a means to an end, preferably the end of something that he clearly did not want out of desire for his own freedom. There was not enough detail for you to give it much thought after that night of discussion and negotiation, but now, it all makes sense.

Your thumb takes it back to his home screen and presses the lock button. In a haze, you get ready and dressed before exiting the bathroom, completely unaware if you even have your clothes on right or your hair somewhat kempt. As quietly as possible, you place his phone back where you had found it. Though common practice at this point, it now feels far too intimate to plant a featherlight kiss on his cheek. It causes him to stir, but you’re halfway out the door before he can fully register your departure.

Whoever passes by, whatever zooms past, however something tries to gain your attention, you have no recognition of your surroundings. A thick layer of tension settles itself into your brain, allowing you to think of nothing but the fact that this entire time, Sylus has been in an arranged marriage that you, apparently, were supposed to be instrumental in destroying. To find yourself back in your apartment maybe forty minutes later is a miracle in and of itself. You return to the plane of reality when you open your closet doors to toss your dirty clothes into the hamper and are greeted by the many items bought with his money.

Contrary to popular belief, jealousy does not make itself known in your system. You’re not exuding shades of green or red like an angry Christmas tree. If anything, you come to a quiet acceptance that this…partnership with Sylus will come to an end, and soon. It would do no good for him to keep seeing or supporting you while formally married, which means you have to get your life in order. Sylus has given you more than enough money to put you through your last two years of your postgraduate career and maybe a year into your postdoc, but you should still remain frugal. If you’re lucky enough, the money you earn during postdoc would be enough to live relatively comfortably on.

Alone. Without him.

It’s fine, you think to yourself as you turn on the shower. It’s totally and completely fine.

-

A couple hours later in class, your phone vibrates with a message that reads, “You actually managed to disconnect your watch from my phone.”

The slight smirk tugging at your lips is inevitable as you type out a response: You told me to try, so I did.

“I will be changing my passcode.”

If you want. There’s nothing else on there that I need to delete, right?

“Oh sweetie, wouldn’t you like to know?”

The subtle, possessive curl of his message coils around you tenderly, making you temporarily forget that you are in class and should be exhibiting a poker face. But you still shift in your seat, a warm pool of heat forming in your core as you imagine his expression and his voice reading the message out loud. Forever a tease and a flirt, Sylus knows exactly what he is doing by sending you that message.

Your best revenge in the moment is to leave him on read, on the edge of his metaphorical seat. It takes too much effort to bring your conscience back to your current lecture and actually take some notes. Your phone buzzes once, but you ignore it – and in hindsight, you’re glad you did. Sylus, in all his infinite wisdom and glory, took it upon himself to send you a picture of himself after a shower – the skin of his chest glistening under the fluorescent lights, grey towel hung low on his waist and barely holding on, veins on his arms frustratingly visible because he knows what they do to you, his biceps flexed just enough that you want to take a bite at them. The fucker full well knew you were in class and, you know, in relatively close proximity to other people who would have, no doubt, gotten an eyeful.

As you walk towards the subway station to go back to your apartment, head down and focused on typing out a message, a giddy smile can’t help but break out across your face. Your thumbs tap, “Should you really be sending photos like this to someone who, in the public’s eye, is just a friendly escort?”

After not even thirty seconds, your phone buzzes, the notification of his call sliding in from the top of your screen. You almost roll your eyes as you bring the device to your ear. “You have five minutes before I lose signal underground,” you warn, your tone still playful nevertheless.

“‘A friendly escort’, you say? I suppose that’s what the young ones are calling intimacy these days.”

“You knew I was in class. And stop it, I know you have some stupid smug look on your face right now,” you chastise.

“You know me so well.”

“Actually, speaking of,” you say as your eyes flit down to your watch. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting right now?”

“I stepped out.”

Your heart and feet skip a beat, almost causing you to fall flat on your face and absolutely eat shit in the middle of the sidewalk. It’s hard not to let your mind race at all the implications, that this tirelessly busy man decided in a heartbeat that he would step out with a desire to call you over something so minor; to do no more than simply tease you. In the grand scheme of his life, you have very little significance – your temporary companionship where you may see him four or five times a month, sometimes with weeks in between and other times mere days. Text messages were never a guaranteed daily activity, though as of recent, he has been texting you more often. But amidst his employees, his connections, his partnerships, his family, you’re just…you.

You didn’t realize you had been stunned into silence long enough for him to ask, “Are you still there?”

“I am, sorry,” you apologize, scrambling to think of an excuse. “Uhh, an email came in and I was reading it. Didn’t hear you.”

“I’ll get you some wireless earbuds.”

“Please don’t.” Your rejection is immediate, firm. The lack of room left for argument stands apparent. “That’s not necessary.”

“And what’s stopping me from just ordering you a pair regardless?”

“Me.”

Sylus responds with a contemplative pause, which is...unusual. He has always been so quick to reply with wit and banter, but there is a chance that maybe something distracted him, like what you had said as a poor attempt at a viable excuse.

“I suppose the kitten is starting to make use of her claws now.” His voice rings softer, quieter, almost as if disheartened by his own statement. “First you disconnect your watch, and now you won’t even let me buy you earbuds.”

“I just don’t want you to buy anything that’s not necessary. Covering my tuition and all the dresses is one thing, but wireless earbuds, I can do without. My wired ones work just fine.”

Your eyes catch the sign for the stairs leading down to the subway up ahead. “I’m about to go under and lose signal. Was there anything else?”

“Come over tonight.”

Your mouth works faster than your brain. “I can’t,” you lie, a pang of guilt creeping into your heart. “There��s a study group tonight for an exam.” Not a lie. “Besides, we just saw each other yesterday.”

“Has that ever stopped us before?”

“W-well, no,” you splutter because it’s true. There have been a handful of times when you spent two, sometimes three consecutive nights in the past – but things were more hot-and-heavy then, a time when you couldn’t get enough of him and vice versa. “I’m just saying.”

“Then come after the study group.”

“It’s gonna run pretty late because we have an exam in a few days.” Again, not a lie. “Who knows if the subways would still be running by then?”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“But you might be asleep.”

“Highly unlikely, little one.”

Quickly looking around you, you quietly hiss, “Sylus, you should be asleep by the time the subways stop running. Why would you still be up at 2AM?”

“In case I have to refresh your memory, you do remember that I am the CEO of one of the largest tech companies in Linkon, right? The work never ends.”

“You need time for sleep, you know, like everyone else??”

“I’m not like everyone else.”

Your eyes close in frustration as you groan. Your feet have reached the top of the stairs, and you couldn’t have asked for more perfect timing. “Okay, I’m at the station so I’m gonna hang up. I’ll come over another time, alright? Talk to you later.”

“Sweetie–”

Moving forward to race down the stairs and smashing the hang up button is your way of desperately trying to not lose resolve. Any longer, you would have given in and rolled yourself straight back to square one with nothing but dread. You have never been more relieved to see the little “No Signal” sitting in the top left corner while you swipe through a gate and manage to get down another flight of stairs without tripping over your feet.

Wired earbuds in, hands stuffed into the pocket of your hoodie, letting the wind tunnel threaten you to topple over, you do everything in your ability to not think about him – to not think about the messages that may flood your phone once you get signal, to not think about the pushback you may receive because Sylus is someone who figures out to, somehow, always get his way, and to not think about the weight of his earlier words: “I stepped out.” You pretend that you know nothing about this arranged marriage, the curiosity having caused your thumbs to twitch in anticipation at maybe looking up who this woman is. You ignore the now glaringly close deadline that will terminate your relationship with Sylus forever, and most of all, you ignore any semblance of pain that knowledge makes you feel.

Cup half-empty, spoons tossed the window, the subway window across from you is greeted with a blank stare. In a rare moment of mindfulness (or is it dissociation?), you think of nothing until you find yourself standing by the foot of your bed and ready to face plant into the middle of the duvet. With your last shred of working consciousness, you set an alarm for thirty minutes before the start of the study group and promptly fall asleep.

-

As you predicted, the study group runs late into the night. Despite the several digressions into conversations that were very much not academics-related, all of you feel relatively good about the subject matter for the exam on Friday. Everyone comes to a unanimous decision to reconvene in a couple of days. Given that it was Monday, one more study session Wednesday and some independent review Thursday night would be beneficial.

For your own sanity, you had left your phone, stashed in the recesses of your backpack, tossed into the corner of the study room, on do-not-disturb for the entirety of the night. You had it programmed to still chime and alert you if family contacted you, mainly because it doesn’t happen often, and if it does, that means something big happened. The device remained silent for the whole time, and part of you wants to avoid confronting what your notification screen might look like. But before you can muster up the courage to do so, one of your friends speaks up.

“Hey, you took the subway here, right? I can drive you home,” Jiho, a doctoral student in the same year as you but doing research under a different professor, offers. A part of you is beyond relieved at the perfect example of an excuse to not check your phone because it would be so incredibly rude (not really) in a social context.

“You wouldn’t mind? If you have somewhere to be, I can just walk.”

Jiho rolls his eyes in a playful manner. “Come on, before I change my mind.”

He drops you off in front of your apartment complex about ten minutes later, and he shoos away your offer to buy him coffee as a token of gratitude. You wave goodbye as his car pulls out of a guest parking spot, and only then do you notice the conspicuously sleek, grey sports car sitting a few meters away. Your heart pounds, and your palms begin to sweat as you get closer and closer to your unit, afraid of who you might find once you get inside. You spot the fluorescent glow from underneath peering out from underneath your door, and it takes everything in you to not drop your keys as you unlock the deadbolt.

“So the kitten has finally decided to come home.”

“How–”

Sylus, looking severely out of place in your humble abode, sets down the stack of papers in his hand on your coffee table. With his other hand, he points to the fixture on your wall by the door where your keys typically hang. His own set now occupies one of the hooks, and you spot the spare key you had given him a few months ago. To your knowledge, he has never used it before, and you can count the number of times he has stepped into this apartment on one hand.

You quietly shut the door behind you, locking both deadbolts in place before setting your backpack down. “It’s so late,” and even you wince at the shakiness in your voice. “You should be asleep. At home.”

“Perhaps I would be if someone had just checked their phone once in the last fifteen hours.”

Well, you don’t have much of an excuse for that.

Sylus sits on one end of your couch in loungewear, though somehow, he still makes it seem like he’s in something formal enough for business casual. You cautiously sit on the other end away from him.

“I passed out as soon as I got home, and then I was running late for the study group, so I just left my phone on do-not-disturb.”

His silence speaks volumes.

“I didn’t mean to worry you.”

But maybe you did.

Maybe, subconsciously, you did. Maybe you wanted to test the limits of his affection. Maybe you wanted to see just how far he would go to make sure you were okay.

Maybe you simply wanted to get a taste of when you least expect radio silence, an appetizer for how things may turn out when Sylus calls for the end of your arrangement.

“Look at me.”

Tension weighs you down as you slowly turn your body towards him, but you avoid his gaze and aim to study the logo on his shirt instead.

“Sweetie, look at me.”

The command snaps you into compliance, his tone firm and undeniable. You expect to see anger, frustration, disappointment. After all, it would make sense, for there is a set of expectations and rules put into place to ensure trust between both parties. Transactional, contractual, institutional obligations and conditions set by both the company matchmaker and individuals are put in place to conveniently manifest and quickly disintegrate these business relations, to avoid messes.

But you realize all too quickly that the mess will be inevitable, in your case, because instead of tinges of red fury in his eyes, you find concern, worry, and confusion. Dread sinks into your stomach like an anchor in the middle of the ocean, dropping further and further into the dark unknown.

“You’re hiding something from me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you immediately counter. Good job, you just made it more obvious.

Sylus pins you down with a look that means nothing other than “you know better”, and your heart threatens to burst from your chest out of sheer anxiety.

“Since you refuse to tell me otherwise, tell me how you got home,” he says, and though he may seem cool and nonchalant in the way he rests an arm against the back of the couch, you can see the irritation pulsing through the veins on his forearms.

“A friend from the study group drove me home.”

“And you were simply too busy to look at your phone during the drive?”

“I had to give him directions.”

Sylus cocks an eyebrow at the mention of this friend’s gender. “Him?”

“Jiho, sweet guy. Does research with another professor.”

“I suppose I have him to thank for bringing you home safely. Regardless, you should have called me to pick you up.”

You have one last card to play. “That’s not in the contract.”

His eyes harden and narrow the slightest bit, the curve of his jaw growing tense in building irritation. “How so?”

“There’s a line somewhere in there about making sure I would not contact you for personal favors that are outside the scope of our,” you hesitate to find the right words, “relationship.”  You can’t remember the last time your palms sweat so much.

“I offered.”

“And I am not obligated to take the offer. While kind, I did not see the need to bother you.”

“I clearly remember stating that it wouldn’t be an issue, especially considering I asked you to stay with me for the night.”

“But I told you I couldn’t,” you retort.

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”

The bitter note in his voice on his last word matches his steely gaze that is undoubtedly determined to pick you apart, to peel off each layer of whatever walls you may have put up. He’s not ignorant or oblivious by any means – something is going on, and you’re not telling him. You answer him with deafening silence, blaming your late-night fatigue for it.

Responding directly to his question would only make this worse, as you cannot see yourself getting out of the ensuing conversation unscathed and alive. Instead, the couch dips as you cross the distance between you two, hesitantly straddling his hips in case he doesn’t want you to. But he allows your move, his hands almost instinctively resting on your thighs as you settle yourself into his hold. His skin feels glassy smooth beneath your fingers as you caress his cheek, studying every detail of his face and avoiding his eyes.

Perhaps there is a part of you that is trying to commit the minutiae to memory in preparation for the days when you will no longer see him so intimately. You should have never let yourself get so attached, no matter how much tenderness and adoration Sylus has been lavishing you with. The realization hits you in a bittersweet manner, and the featherlight kiss you place on his lips only makes it hurt more.

Yet you move past the pain to accept the fall, the descent into oblivion as you feel Sylus respond to your kiss, deepening and increasing in fervor. The heat in your core is more than just lust as it sinks deeper and deeper into you, a testament to the depth of your affections. Somehow, his touch as his hands roam your figure burns hotter. It almost makes you want to shy away from his grasp, but part of you welcomes the trails of fire as your punishment for deceiving him.

You gasp out his name as his lips leave your neck scorching, each nip of his teeth and lave of his tongue adding to the haze slowly overtaking your rationale. But beneath the man’s ardor, you manage to recognize his irritation and annoyance – the way his fingers grip your waist, his nails digging into your back – about how this whole night has progressed.

Apologize, his eyes seem to scream. Seek forgiveness as I seek vengeance, his hands draw on your skin.

Beg for me.

“You test my patience in a way that others have never done before,” he says in a dangerous tone as you gasp at the chords of delicious pain running down your back.

“I’m– ah – sorry,” you gasp as his arousal grinds purposefully against yours.

The answering swat against your ass stings, and you attempt to ignore the rush of slick dampening your panties even further –  a reaction that Sylus does not fail to miss. Instinct calls and beckons when your eyes slip shut the moment a hand rakes up to get a firm grip of your hair, pulled towards him so he can kiss you fervently again.

So lost in a hazy reverie, you barely register when he lifts you by your thighs and makes his way to your bedroom. Or at least, you think he’s going there, given that he’s only been in your bedroom once before. But Sylus makes strides with the confidence of someone who has visited here countless times, and the aura he exudes both thrills and frightens you.

In mere seconds, he strips you down and regards you with an appreciative gaze. The glint and apparent desire in his eyes never fails to flatter you – to be wanted is addicting, especially when wanted by a man as powerful as Sylus. You should be alarmed by how natural it feels to be in this current state of undress and debauchery.

“Open your mouth,” he commands, and you obey without a second thought. “Good girl.

“As much as I cannot bother to care about disturbing your neighbors, I know you do,” he concedes, but not without balling up your panties and stuffing them past your parted lips. “All of this could have been avoided if you had just let me pick you up.”

The argumentative whine that slips off your tongue is resolutely muffled, serving no purpose except to further Sylus’s sadism. His approving smirk immediately quells your anger, and you can only watch with half-lidded eyes as he removes his clothes at a painstakingly slow place. Normally, you are the one to grant him a show at his command, but tonight, you deserved a taste of your own medicine. Your wrists become bound by his belt as he finds his second home between your legs. Tears prick the corners of your eyes when he purposefully lets his shaft drop on your clit.

“Always so wet and ready for me, kitten,” he praises, his tone low, teasing, but appreciative.

His smirk widens as he moves to hold his cock and tap it menacingly against the puffy bundle of nerves, taking in each twitch of your body, each dampened mewl, each falling tear. With each tap, the string of slick between your cunt and his length becomes more and more prominent, spreading across his skin. “Tell me, sweetie, who this belongs to,” Sylus compels with a drawl, jutting his chin towards your carnal source of torture before meeting your eyes. He knows very well that the word you're trying to say is “you”, but he takes great pleasure in knowing that there is no way the sounds will come through the soaked cotton in your mouth. “Hmm? What was that?” The frustration of not being able to clearly convey the right answers only adds to your arousal, turning the heat in your core into molten lava. At his clarifying question, you, undoubtedly, feel a pool of precum drip from your pussy, and when you see his eyes flit down to his cock in hand, you know he's fully aware of it too. They hone in on how easily the tip slips into your beckoning entrance, attempting to entice and draw him in for both your pleasures.

You keen as Sylus slides two fingers into your entrance without warning – they’re a far cry from his cock, but thick and long in their own desirable way. The tips of his fingers easily find the spot that makes you squirm, moan, mewl, and you’d have to be blind to miss the wicked expression splitting across his face. Despite the teasing attitude from earlier, he wastes no time trying to bring you to your peak. Your muffled cries only spur him on, even more so when he’s able to fit a third finger inside you. “Maybe I should let your neighbors hear us. I imagine it would get the message across that you’re not exactly…available.”

Embarrassing, what you would give in this very moment to be nothing more than his. Your hips follow the drag of his fingers, unwilling to let yourself feel anything less than filled. But before he lets you come, he stops.

Why?

“Greedy little thing.” His tone is mocking, yet highly amused, as he removes his fingers – and as much as he would like to play with you to his heart’s content, to break you down and tear you apart, his veins thrum with impatience and apprehension. Sylus seeks to punish you in a different, more overwhelming fashion, that would require you to beg him to stop rather than to start. It takes everything in him to not force you down his entire length. Instead, he devises to lull you into a false sense of security with the way that he takes his time sliding into you, no matter how much your pretty cunt desperately tries to suck him in. Sylus is sure you would be able to see the restraint painted across his face if you didn’t have your head thrown back and back arched from being stretched open. The sight of your bare stomach and chest makes it all the much harder to reign in his desires.

“Fuck,” he hisses. His cock continues to bully its way through your pussy, slowly and languidly, until it’s fully trapped inside you. When your thighs meet his v-line and your clit brushes against his skin, you whine and buck against him for desperately needed friction. But Sylus quickly traps you and pins you down from your thighs, restricting your movements with a devilish grin. “You never answered my question,” he reminds you, a clear taunt. In the blink of an eye, he leans back to land a firm yet stinging slap on your puffy clit and revels in your muffled cry. “Who does this belong to?”

Your dry sobs only intensify as you fight to respond with a clear answer, but it’s impossible. The way you grind your hips against him, seeking any sensation that could help quench this insatiable thirst in your core, should say enough. Sure, you could simply point at him, even with your wrists tied together, but you’ve been with him long enough to know that he wants the words of possession to roll off your tongue at times like these. And if you tried taking the cloth from your mouth…needless to say, you would be lucky to survive the night.

He chuckles when he feels the walls of your pussy tighten around his cock, a different tone that deviates from the vicious shake of your head to signal that despite your complaints, you would much rather be gagged like this. “Cum for me,” Sylus demands in a low voice. “Cum for me, cum from me just being inside you, and I will give you what you’ve been begging for this whole time.

“Even better yet, make a mess.”

The coil in your core tightens more and more and more until it suddenly snaps, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm and your throat hoarse from your silenced screams. “Good girl,” he praises when he pulls out, hungry eyes roaming every inch of you, as he rapidly swipes his fingers against your clit and relishes in his ability to make you squirt, fluids flying and landing messily in the near vicinity. You don’t know how long it takes for you to get over the high, oversensitivity from his fingers as they continue to stimulate you. Barely coming down from your climax, Sylus stuffs three fingers inside you and continues to fuck you, purposefully and forcefully rocking against your g-spot.

“Please,” you beg and cry as you twitch and flinch, trying to remove yourself from the source of this unbearable amount of pleasure. But your articulation is, once again, victim to your cotton gag, leaving you to audibly dry sob and squeal in overstimulation. The satisfaction on your sponsor’s complexion should sound the alarms in your brain, but it only thrills you to pieces as clarity fades more and more from your conscience.

In a haze, you manage to pull your belt-bound wrists forward from above your head and tap his shoulder three times. Only then does he stop in his tracks, carefully removing his fingers from your core. Sylus exhibits the same attention when he holds your chin with one hand and takes the soaked cotton of your panties out of your mouth. Before you can even take two breaths, greedily gasping for air, Sylus kisses you softly, slowly. Unable to do much with your head still in a fog, you reciprocate as much as you can – to silently thank him for his punishment, as well as his mercy. He pulls back, cueing you to open your eyes and take him in, just as he assesses you in his own way. His eyes search and roam your face and figure before meeting your gaze once more.

How endearing, you believe they seem to say. He cocks an eyebrow, his way of asking are you okay? You take a few deep breaths before nodding. But before you can try and decipher more of what he may be feeling through his eyes, he bends forward, breathing into your ear, “On your stomach.”

Large, strong hands manhandle you until your head is almost buried into the sheets, hiding your disheveled state, your hands grasping at the expensive linen, and his weight planted firmly on top of you. A pillow is stuffed beneath your abdomen before he spreads your ass, eager to study the ruin he has caused on your poor, little pussy. Sylus readjusts himself so that his dick nestles comfortably between your ass cheeks. Even in your daze, the heat of his arousal almost seems to burn your flesh, and you desperately wish it was inside you. 

A self-proclaimed mind reader, Sylus drives you to the edge, groaning quietly when your cunt attempts to lure him in when he coquettes you with the tip. Every slide, every push, every instance of friction makes you fall deeper into this pool of anguish and lechery. Before you even realize it, visceral pleas for him to fuck you are spilling from your tongue, very much so to his delight. “I know you can beg better than that,” he taunts. “And to think I had trained you so well.” His voice reeks in mock despair and disappointment.

Though you know he’s not completely serious, his words are enough to send your sin-addled brain into a state of panic – so panicked and shaken to the point that you don't even register the next words falling off your tongue. Something about the practiced but genuine phrases of separation, wanting to be used, wanting to be ruined – were you pressing back into him, hoping, praying that you could draw him into you?

In response, you soak in the hisses of expletives in your ear, the comforting, mind-numbing sensation of being filled again, and the weight of his frame atop yours. He holds himself up on his elbows, and each thrust threatens to split you in two. “Mine,” his voice slips through your conscience, hanging onto the way the sound drags out, “are you not?”

Always, you nearly answer on primal instinct when he buries himself as deep as he can inside you, his cock almost feeling like it’s in the back of your throat. The inexplicable amount of pleasure stops you from giving him what he wants, which pushes him to press himself even harder against you. “I’m beginning to lose my patience, kitten,” Sylus warns, as if he’s not the very reason for your delayed responses. His fingers sneak underneath you to grab you around the neck, forcing your head up. Your pants are greedy, desperately seeking air as his hand tightens just a bit more, the haziness in your mind thickening.

“Yours,” you gasp. “Always,” slips off your tongue before you can stop yourself.

The silence that hangs still is enough to make you question whether or not you fucked this whole thing up. Dread begins to drip into your system as his grip around your neck loosens, even more so when his hand slips away entirely and he begins sliding out of you. “Wa–”

In the blink of an eye, his hand pushes your head back into the sheets, his fingers curling around your strands at the scalp. Sylus’s cock fucks you into the mattress, his pace almost frantic, yet punishing. The realization that you’re going to be incredibly sore in the morning is an accepted assumption at this point, leaving you with little warning of your release approaching the precipice. Silenced cries, Sylus fervidly ensuring that your pussy is forever molded to the shape of his length, your sanity slipping – his impassioned murmurs of how tight you are, how easily he can pound you into oblivion, how your pussy makes it so easy for him to sink into the very depths of your core – all drive you to your peak. His last sign that you’re going to come is the dissipation of your whimpers.

Sylus wraps his hand around your neck once more, turning it so that he can capture your lips in a bruising kiss. He swallows your screams as you topple over the edge, your climax so intense that your whole body trembles for what feels like eternity in his hold. Your pussy compels him to remain buried deep inside you, and he’s more than happy to comply. But it doesn’t stop him from grinding against you, driving you into overstimulation.

“So good,” he groans against your lips in between kisses. “So fucking good, taking my cock so well, I’m gonna–”

“Y-your cum, please,” you urge. “Please give me your cum!” Your voice dissolves into sobs.

“Fuck!” Sylus spits out. The hand that was on your neck now covers your mouth as he spills inside you with a deep moan, his teeth buried into your shoulder to muffle his own voice. You relish in the sharp pain, as if he’s trying to engrave his mark into your skin, and can’t help but keen as his cum fills you up. Each pulse and twitch of his cock sends a shiver down your spine and almost tempts you into begging for more.

Catching his breath, he refuses to leave your warmth. His tongue softly licks the area where his teeth had embedded themselves into your shoulder, and follows them with reverent kisses. You remain quiet, only letting your breath hitch when Sylus slips out of you. He gently presses your back into a deeper arch so that you can present yourself to him, and he watches with apparent satisfaction as his cum leaks from your pussy. A hand on your ass, his thumb reaches over for your entrance to push and give him a better view of his undeniable claim on you.

As infuriating as he can be, you observe with bleary eyes as he leaves to grab a damp towel from your bathroom before returning and carefully wiping his cum away. After doing so, he tosses it to the floor and picks you up bridal-style, carrying you the short distance to your bathroom. He starts the shower and hums some nonsensical tune with a faint voice as you wait for the water to warm up. When he deems it hot enough, Sylus offers you a hand and helps you into the shower. Compared to his apartment, your shower stall is barely enough to fit the both of you. But he makes it work, taking the utmost care in cleaning you up, his touch so cautious yet heavy with care.

You barely remember making it out of the shower, much less when he dries you off and brings you to bed. There’s a faint memory of his warmth wrapping around your frame when you awaken later that morning, a delicious ache stretched through your muscles. Yet the side where he laid is cold.

It, along with the unread text from your bank notifying you of a, no doubt, sizeable deposit, is to be expected, you remind yourself. The sticky note by your phone that reads, “Early meeting, sweetie. -S” is the only truly physical (and unexpected) sign that he had been here in the first place. He never owes you an explanation, and you never expect to get one.

Just another day, another transaction.

-

Friday rolls around, and when the sun has set beneath the horizon, you find yourself perched in Sylus’s home on the kitchen island, a speckless slab of black quartz that you just know you’re leaving fingerprints on, as he throws together a salad. Something is in the air fryer, and he has a bottle of sparkling cider waiting to be opened. Sylus had stopped you with a look of “don’t you dare” when you tried helping out with something – anything – so the only thing you could do was sit and try to look pretty.

“Pick a salad dressing,” he commands when you grow silent. You eye the three jars that have been placed in front of you.

“I’m fine with any of them.”

“Not an answer.”

“I’m serious though!”

“Pick one.”

You groan as you look at the jars and point at the middle one. “Happy now?” you ask passive aggressively, sending him an exasperated glare.

Sylus, swift and silent, swoops in and steals a kiss from an unexpected you. Saying nothing, he pours some out into the salad bowl and mixes it all together with adept flicks of his wrist – no utensils needed. With a pair of tongs, he drops some greens onto your plate before taking the rest and tending to whatever is cooking in the oven.

It’s not the first time you’ve been here, and it’s not the first time he’s cooked for you. But it is the first time since accepting that you may feel something more than obligation and friendly affection for this man. This whole experience feels wildly domestic, as if you belonged…here.

On this counter.

Accepting impromptu kisses.

Waiting on food cooked by him.

Knowing you’re staying over for the night.

As if you were meant to be a part of his life.

The thought terrifies you, without a doubt, but you like it. Settling down with Sylus, forever attached at his hip at events, is a dangerous fantasy.

Lost in your thoughts, the what if?s, the possibilities, your daydream breaks when he pulls the curtain closed in front of the balcony door, completely blocking a wonderful (and surely, very expensive) view of Linkon. It takes you a few seconds to realize that you had been looking past the windowpane when frolicking around in your imagination, and you’re reminded of the night before you disconnected your smart watch from his phone. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You feel the heat rushing into your cheeks, knowing they would be warm to the touch. Turning away from the now-concealed nighttime skyline, you direct your attention to the fridge meters away from you. “Just thinking about my test.”

“It’s too late now, if you realize you got something wrong. We’re here to celebrate it being over.”

“I know.” You sigh. “Thank you for doing this, by the way. I was getting a little tired of eating out.”

“I was as well. Too many business lunches and dinners the last couple of weeks.”

“How did those go?” you ask just to keep the conversation going.

“They went fine,” Sylus says without any further detail. “Come, let’s eat.” Before you can come down from the counter yourself, he already has an arm wound around your waist and is semi-carrying you to the dinner table. The distance between the table and the kitchen was maybe fifteen steps at best, closer to seven given Sylus’s long strides. It would’ve been a short walk regardless, and you’re flustered with the unexpected royal treatment.

Unceremoniously (but still carefully), he sits you down into a chair and pushes it in before going to his seat. Sylus places himself next to you at this round, mahogany table that seems a little too big for a man who lives alone. Largely used for serving several different dishes, it just looks a little out of place compared to the rest of his penthouse, all sleek and sharp. But you’ve learned to stop questioning things you’re curious about when it comes to his personal life, because clearly, he’s not very open to sharing those details.

Dinner isn’t anything special, as Sylus lets you prattle on about your research and other office gossip. He never divulges any of the gossip in his own workplace, but you understand it’s for confidentiality reasons. And he may just not care that much. At this point, Sylus knows a little too much about you while you know very little about him outside of his preferences and inclinations for food, media, and general daily habits.

Understanding the reality of that stun locks you for a few seconds – the duality of the word intimacy, the realization that you don’t even know Sylus’s favorite color. You could guess, sure, but you don’t definitively know. Why is it that you know the exact amount of shaved truffle on his pasta at that fancy restaurant by the river, but not his birthday? How do you explain your ability to pick up on details of his facial expressions at events and banquets, therefore knowing when to intervene so he can get a break from these people, but not the makeup of his family?

“You’ve been staring off into space quite a bit lately,” Sylus muses, ripping you away from the beginnings of your mental breakdown.

“Sorry, I just thought of something about my exam again.”

“What a terrible host I’ve been then, to allow your mind to wander so often. How can I keep your focus on me?”

You hum, looking around his apartment and then at the table. “Let me wash the dishes.”

“I own a dishwasher for a reason.”

“Please? It’s the least I could do since you made dinner – which was wonderful, by the way. You ever consider becoming a chef?” you ask with a slight chuckle, taking the opportunity to grab his dishware and utensils and carry them to the sink. Stainless steel shines brightly at you, whether from a recent deep clean or lack of usage, as you start to run the tap for warm water.

Large, familiar hands find their home on your waist, the heat burning through your sweater. They pull you against his frame, and you allow yourself to lean back a little bit as you start scrubbing the porcelain. Arms wind around your middle and hold you tight, his senses becoming muddled as he loses himself in your scent and touch. He gently paints the column of your neck with soft, faint kisses – so soft that if you hadn’t been so tuned into him, you would’ve missed them.

“You’re taking too long,” Sylus murmurs against your skin.

“What, never had to wait a tiny bit for a treat you want?” you tease, and chuckle when his teeth bite into your shoulder.

“Brat.”

“I’m almost done, I promise.” 

It’s so hard to not like–

Your brain freezes – but somehow still commands you to scrub the plate in your hand. Moving on pure muscle memory now, you have maybe five seconds to figure out your own thought process.

This is a contract, you remind yourself. This is a mutual relationship to satisfy both parties’ needs without getting personal feelings involved. Sylus made that very clear in the beginning. But the less logical part of your conscience creeps in like a phantom on your shoulder. So how does that explain Sylus’s actions recently? How does that explain this very moment of what would appear to anyone as a sweet, pure, domestic interaction?

He’s just comfortable, you rationalize.

Why does he insist on you staying the night?

Because that’s what this contract entails.

Why does he keep asking you to move closer?

It’d be more of a problem if he was asking me to move in with him.

Would it be though?

Of course??

You sure about that?

This is NOT the time for--!

A small pinch on your waist brings you back to reality, your synapses firing on overdrive to try to get you back to a functional level. You cannot hold back your “ow!”, which seems to be just enough of a reaction to satisfy this man.

“What was that for?!”

“Something is clearly on your mind,” he says in a low tone, the tone that indicates he’s starting to become agitated.

“No there’s not,” you retort and fail to hide the sheepishness in your own voice.

“You’re doing a terrible job at convincing me to accept that. What are you not telling me?”

“It’s–,” you pause, scrambling for words. “--trivial, at best.”

Sylus’s arm extends in front of you to forcibly remove the plate from one hand and the sponge from the other. You relent to reduce the risk of breaking anything, but somehow, it’s still not enough. He grabs a tea towel hanging on the oven door behind him, spins you around so that your back is now digging into the edge of the sink, and proceeds to furiously dry your hands. You can’t help but wince when he tries to rub off some dried soap residue, but there is no time to dwell on it.

Not when Sylus slings the towel on to his shoulder and bends at the waist to meet your eyes. Not when he cages you between his arms as his hands bear his weight on either side of you. Not when he pins you with an expectant glare, demanding your full honesty.

“It’s really nothing.” Your tone is firmer now, but he doesn’t fall for it.

“Is it something personal?”

“...yes.”

“Does it have anything to do with your family?”

“No.”

“Is it something that I’m able to fix?

Technically, yes. But you’re not stupid.

“No.” Your voice softens, lowering to a murmur at best.

“Tsk,” Sylus clicks his tongue. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

“Because you have a large enough influence to make you think that you can fix anything you want.”

“Precisely,” he responds pointedly and, perhaps, a little too proudly. “So tell me. Tell me what’s bothering you, and I’ll have it resolved within 48 hours.”

You didn’t realize that you had stopped looking him in the eye. And when you do, your breath hitches. So determined, so resolute.

And yet, so heartbreaking.

You can’t help but let your fingers ghost over his cheek, tracing the edge of his jawline. He stands firm even when you step forward and press a light kiss against his cheek. As if on instinct, he turns and immediately parts his lips to slide against yours, but you pull back before he has the chance to deepen it, and with it, your affection.

“You have enough to worry about as it is,” you murmur. “I’m fine, really.”

Sylus’s eyes turn disapproving, doubtful. But he knows when to back off when needed.

“Don’t forget that I can help you, should you need it,” he gently reminds you. “Do you understand?”

“I do, don’t worry.”

He sighs. “Very well then. Now come, we’re here to celebrate the end of your exam, after all.”

You take his outstretched hand, but you fail to leave behind your troubled heart.

-

Two nights later, at four in the morning, you stare blankly at your phone screen.

[Are you sure you want to request to terminate this contract?]

The only contact you've had with Sylus the last two days is sporadic texts about little things, like how your day was going or if you'd heard about the results of your exam yet. You do your best in suppressing the quiet loneliness that pushes your heart to your throat and a dagger into your stomach, the undeniable sensation of realizing that you miss Sylus.

Missing him as if he were your actual partner and not just one for show with dollar signs behind the scenes.

Worrying enough to wonder if he's getting enough sleep and eating enough food outside of whatever work dinners or lunches he may be obligated to attend. Just yesterday, you had ordered delivery to his office with your own money, and he had texted you a simple Thank you, little one. To which you responded with a casual, You're welcome 👍.

Smooth.

You're not sure how long your eyes linger over the [Yes] button, the midnight minutes blinking by as you contemplate your next move. Is this the right call? Should you wait until Sylus comes around and tells you on his own about the arranged marriage? Should you just wait until he makes the request instead?

No. You want a clean break. You want to call this off on your terms, essentially saving yourself from the path of destruction that you would undoubtedly set off on. One tap and a press of the lock button immediately after, you burrow yourself into your blankets and will yourself to sleep.

With light sleep at best, you watch with bleary eyes as the sun begins to rise, casting your room into a hue of its golden hour, signifying contentment and new beginnings. But it only elicits dread as you wait for the inevitable end.

-

The shriek of your phone rips you from your mindless daydreaming, and you know who it is before you can even get a good look at the screen.

“Hel–”

“What is the meaning of this?” His voice rings dark, irate, with what you think is the slightest hint of panic laced beneath each syllable.

“Sylus,” you start, but he interrupts you again.

“If I did something to upset you, then you need to let me know. Otherwise, I am at a complete loss for your sudden request to terminate our agreement.”

“You did nothing wrong.” Your attempt to subdue his worries may be futile, but you at least have to try.

“And I’m sure you can see why I don’t believe you for even a second.”

“I mean it though,” you refute. “Look, I’ll explain more when we meet with the company rep.”

“My patience is running thin. Tell me now.”

“Please, please just wait until we meet this evening,” you beseech, on the brink of breaking down while walking back to your apartment from class.

“It was simply a mistake, right?”

“Sylus, please–”

“Fine. Don’t be late.” The beep that follows indicates he has hung up on you. You suppose you got what you wanted, but it feels a hundred times worse.

There will never be enough time in the world for you to be prepared for this moment, standing in the ascending elevator of a discrete yet well-kept high-rise building while clutching a manilla envelope in your hand. The last time you were here was to outline the conditions of the situation with a representative there to help mitigate and ensure that both parties would be satisfied. You suppose they’ll be doing the same thing today, except it would be to ensure a clean split.

As the secretary walks you to the designated conference room, your legs tremble, even more so when she casually adds that Sylus was already here, waiting. She stops and knocks on the door in front of her, announcing your arrival. A sound of approval from inside cues her to open the door and let you in, and you nervously step inside after thanking her. Not that you didn’t believe her earlier, but actually seeing Sylus in the flesh somehow adds to the gravity of the situation.

“We have both parties here now, so let us begin,” the representative says after greeting you with a handshake. Calling out your name and gesturing to you, he states,” You are the one that called to terminate this contractual agreement, is that correct?”

“Yes,” you confirm in a shaky voice and clear your throat. A copy of the contract sits in front of you, and you keep your eyes trained on the letters that are starting to blur and swirl together. If it means that you don’t have to look at Sylus, you’ll take it.

“Is the reason for the termination due to any violations of the terms and conditions set at the initial meeting?”

“No.”

Despite keeping your head down, you see and hear Sylus shift in his chair. A sudden chill wraps around you, and you slightly shiver.

“Mr. Qin, to your knowledge, did she violate any part of the contract?”

“No.”

“Now let us discuss financial compensation.” Looking towards you again, he asks, “Have you been financially compensated for your services?”

“More than adequately.”

“Per the contract, are there any services you have not been paid for?”

You shake your head. “Sylus does not owe me anything.”

“Then as per company policy, once one party calls for the termination of the contract, the request must be honored to protect the safety of both parties. Any services that were not compensated for would have to be done here in this meeting, but that is not a concern in this case. Please give me a few minutes to draw up the agreement to terminate so that you both can sign it.” The representative gets up and leaves the conference room.

Sylus steals the opportunity to ask the one question that has been on repeat in his mind since he received the notification.

“Why?”

You like to think you’ve gotten to know Sylus relatively well over the last year. Given your lack of explanation over the phone earlier, you know your words alone would never be enough to placate him. With shaky hands, you retrieve the envelope from your lap and slide it across the table, even daring to finally look up at him now. His crimson eyes nearly break you, but you’re grasping onto every last straw to keep yourself sane.

Inside the envelope contained a couple of pictures found online of Sylus’s arranged fiancée, as well as several news articles discussing how her company may be heading towards a merger, but it was unclear on exactly when it would happen and who it would be with. It hadn’t taken long for you to realize that you’ve seen her several times in passing at various events and fundraisers, and that she and the man sitting across you seemed to avoid each other in public as inconspicuously as possible. You warily watch as he pulls the contents out and freezes, his gaze snapping back to you.

“How did you…?” he inquires.

“It doesn’t matter how I found out,” you respond softly before switching to a more matter-of-fact tone. “We knew this would come to an end at some point. Considering your arrangement isn’t known to the public yet, it was fine to be seen with me. But when this news breaks out, and if you’re still associated with me, it wouldn’t look good for either of you. You don’t need the reputation as a two-timing womanizer, and she doesn’t need to be publicly perceived as some poor woman who couldn’t keep a hold on you, therefore undermining her achievements.”

“You should have talked to me before going straight to nullifying our contract,” he fires back.

“That would’ve made it harder.”

Sylus leans back in his seat, now regarding you with piqued curiosity. “Made what harder?”

“Maybe that’s not the right expression.” Your palms are starting to get sweaty again, even as they curl and clench tighter than ever, your fingers digging into your palms. There's nothing you can do that would eradicate the shakiness in your voice. “I just meant that talking before now would've made everything complicated.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Do elaborate.”

 “Well, I thought,” you stammer. “I mean– it’s just talking would’ve, would’ve– let some���” You pause again, desperately trying to find the right words. “Would’ve let some things be said that would’ve, you know, been better to be left unsaid. About us. Between us. Does that make sense?” Your hands have been drawing inane shapes in the air as if they would help aid in Sylus’s (and your) understanding.

“Better unsaid by you or me?”

After a few seconds, you answer hesitantly, “Both, maybe?”

For the first time in months, there are no emotions in his eyes. You have always been able to pick out at least something he may be feeling – affection, frustration, fatigue, lust – but to be on the receiving end of his blank stare like it’s the first day all over again, is unnerving. Agonizing, too.

When he finally opens his mouth, his tone dripping with disdain and mockery, he derides, “Who knew the little kitten thought so highly of herself?”

His words immediately trigger an alarming amount of shame and embarrassment. Have you been reading too much into his actions? Was it all in your head? Did it all occur out of some desperation for something genuine from him?

Oh God.

It’s at this moment that the representative comes back with the papers in hand, and part of you is ready to believe that there may actually be a higher power in the universe. “Thank you for your patience. Once you both have signed the termination agreement, I will make copies for both of you.” He seems completely unaware of the tension that has solidified between you and the CEO, even as you take the pen from the representative with a slight tremor. You quickly scan over the contents because you’re having an increasingly difficult time finding the brain cells to scrutinize each sentence and sign on the indicated lines. After you all but shove the papers across the table, you push your seat back and grab your purse.

“Oh, miss,” he starts, but you interrupt him.

“You can just email me a copy of these. Excuse me, I have something urgent to get to.”

He stares at you for a few seconds before giving a corporate smile. “Of course. Thank you for coming in. Have a good rest of your night.”

“Thank you. You as well.” Your platitude is rushed, almost harsh sounding. You mentally note that you need to send a card that is both a thank-you and an apology for scurrying off like this when you were the one to initiate it.

The walls feel like they’re closing in on your brain and consciousness, so much so that you suddenly find yourself out in the lobby of the building with no recollection of how you even got down here. A gust of fresh air hits you as you step out the doors, and it’s a little easier to breathe now. But it doesn’t mean that your chest isn’t ready to burst, your ribcage threatening to tear open and leave you passed out on the street. It doesn’t mean that Sylus’s words don’t hurt you any less, and the pain of your own embarrassment only compounds on them.

The uncharacteristic chill on this summer night scrapes against your cheeks and ears. You finally will yourself to walk towards the nearest subway station, all the while blinking back tears that just won’t stop coming. Never mind the other pedestrians who may catch a glimpse of you wiping away any physical manifestation of your grief, the other subway riders who may observe you desperately hiding in a corner of the carriage, or even the other residents in your apartment building who watch you furiously tapping your phone while passing by.

With nothing to stop you, not even your own will, you let the tears flow, streaming down the sides of your face and into your pillow as you trace the ridges of your wall, your phone lying innocently a few inches away. Despite deleting his phone number and officially disconnecting on the website, you can’t bring yourself to discard his message thread. There were too many memories, too many reminders of what you once had and will probably never have again.

Your pillow becomes damp with tears of confusion, shame, and regret. How could you be so stupid,so caught up in your own delusions that Sylus Qin, tech mogul and CEO, one of the most secretive and sought-out individuals of the current decade, with connections you couldn’t even dare to dream of, somehow held a shred of genuine affection for you? How could you have thought that his demands to see you night after night were anything more than just wanting some type of company, the kind that does what he says and strokes his ego? How could you have convinced yourself that you were actually special to him?

How could you have put yourself at so much emotional risk for something that was nothing but transactional to begin with? 

The next morning, with one look at your morose expression and the puffiness of your eyes, the other people in your cohort know better than to ask if you’re okay. During the lecture, Jiho silently hands you a piece of gum, a tiny, reoccurring gesture of camaraderie throughout these years of graduate school, as an attempt at providing some type of normalcy. Your movements are sluggish and lethargic as you fold the strip into your mouth, but it’s the first time in the last 18 hours that you feel like things might…just be okay.

-

Two days later, an email comes from the company telling you it is policy to change your phone number, and they will financially compensate for the cost of a new SIM card since it is an inconvenience to you. Hours later, you find yourself in front of a cellphone technician who is setting up the new SIM card. As they type in a few things on their computer, they hand you a pin to help eject your current one. You’re not looking forward to the hassle of telling everyone that your number has changed and fixing it in everything you have that involves your number, but even you understand that this is the first step to a fresh start. Sylus is probably going through the same process, if he already hasn’t gotten it done.

And as your phone sets everything up with the new number, you stare at your closet, now stuffed to the brim with dresses and skirts that you may never wear again. Nothing you do from now on would ever require such formalities. The knowledge of it stings to some degree when you find a large, empty bin that was used when you had moved in. Without ceremony, you begin the mindless task of removing said clothing items from their hangers and folding them into the container. You don’t want to cry. You don’t expect to cry. But the steady streaks of tears dripping down your face is enough to show how much you grew to cherish your time with Sylus.

Time that you will never be able to return to.

[fin]

.

.

.

.

“How did she know?”

“Sylus, what are you–”

“She knew,” Sylus cuts her off. “How could she have known without you tipping her off?”

“Think about this logically. I want this arrangement gone as much as you do, so why would I tell her? She’s your key to dissolving all this.”

“She was more than that.”  

“Was?”

“Shit,” Sylus curses, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“...she left you?”

“No,” he retorts. “Not willingly.” At least, that’s what he wants to believe. “But I’m not discussing this with you.”

“And I don’t really care to know the details. So…what are we going to do?”

Sylus’s hand tightens around his newly acquired phone as he stands and gazes out the window at the city skyline from his bedroom. He might be starting to understand why you seemed so entranced by the view.

“We’ll figure something out.”

“I really hope so, Sylus.”

-

-

“Hey boss, we’re here for the daily debrief,” Luke and Kieran announce as they slip into his office and all but collapse into the chairs in front of his desk.

“I’m listening,” Sylus says, keeping his eyes trained on his monitor.

“It was the usual. She woke up, skipped breakfast, went to class, stayed in the small office for her professor’s grad students for like, five hours. Uh, what else?”

“Bought a snack from that place in the library that sells coffee and shit,” the other twin adds. “Then she–”

“What snack did she buy?”

“Just some chips, from what we saw.” The twins look at each other and give a slight shrug.

“Did she eat lunch?” Sylus’s tone suggests that he could care less, despite having posed the question.

“She ate something while in the office, but it didn’t look like anything substantial. Oh, but she had a sandwich for dinner. She watched some TV – one of her comfort shows again – and scrolled on her phone while in bed. Did we miss anything?”

“I think that about covers it.”

Luke and Kieran sit in silence, waiting for Sylus’s dismissal. Said man continues to type away on his keyboard.

“Hey boss,” Kieran starts and immediately earns a “shut the fuck up” look from Luke. “We’ve been doing this for a year.”

“Which is fine,” Luke adds right after.  “We’re not complaining.”

“Right, we’re not complaining. But uhh,” Kieran continues. “How long do you expect for this to go on for?”

“As long as it needs to. You’re dismissed.”

Not long after the twins disappear from his view, he runs a hand through his silvery locks, frustration and tension evident in his strained tendons and veins. Sylus locks his computer and grabs the coat off his chair before sauntering down to his car many, many floors below where the parking garage is. But instead of walking towards his sports car, the one that had sat in a visitor spot of your apartment parking lot all those months ago, he makes his way to an unsuspecting black sedan, its brand common and inconspicuous. Without any need for a GPS, Sylus pulls out and drives to your apartment complex.

In the darkness of twilight and beneath the shadows of beechnut trees, he leans against the steering wheel and gazes up at your window, a luminescent yellow shimmering through the curtains. They haven’t been pulled completely shut, but there is nothing to see in the light regardless. The minutes that pass do not feel like time in any way as he sits in a somewhat meditative state, and the only thing that could snap him out of it is when your bedroom lights switch dark. In reality, fifteen minutes pass before he watches your shadow, then your figure, approach the windowpane.

Sylus takes the little time he has to observe you, to see if you appear any different than yesterday. Did you have a full meal? Was your research stressful? Were you making use of the money he had paid you before everything ended? Were you getting enough rest and nutrition?

When he can no longer see you, he falls back in his seat and lets out a heavy sigh, exhaustion weighing heavily on his eyes. Sylus starts his car and throws it in reverse, and he spends his twenty-minute drive home thinking about nothing but you, his cold, empty bed, and how maybe, as much as he wants to deny it on all fronts, you two were not meant to be. Yet he holds onto hope that he can defy that fate eventually, because whether you know it or not…

You will always be his.

[leighsartworks216]

How the LADS men would react to some of my favorite games

All x Reader (separately, and it's not the main focus)

Picking out games for them all was kinda difficult, bc I have so many favorites and I wasn't sure what they'd react to or how they'd react. But I'm pretty happy with these

Based on this post

Warnings: crackfic (kinda?), one horror game, slight angst with Zayne, swearing

Word Count: 1,123 (oh hell yeah)

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form (Psst fill this out to be tagged in future fics! - Updated to include Xavier)

Xavier:

I think Xavier would love The Outer Worlds

I mean,, it’s a game that takes place entirely in another solar system where you crash land in an escape pod on a strange planet and gotta figure out how people here work without letting them know you’re “not from here”

They literally call the player “The Stranger”

I think he’d love looking up at the sky in game

Every one of the sky boxes is gorgeous but Emerald Vale especially

I think he’d find a safe area in game and put it on just to stare up at the sky (and fall asleep too)

Tries to choose the best outcome for every situation

Which means fucking over the government and not feeling an ounce of guilt for it

But fucking over the underdogs even for a minute feels awful

Has to ask you which choice is better or how to get the best outcome

Scarily good at fighting with melee weapons

Esp considering the heavy reliance on guns

Accidentally min-maxes the characters

He’d also love Coffee Talk

The music is so calming he usually ends up falling asleep to it

Spends a lot of time and consideration into every drink

Draws a little bunny in the lattes every single time

Probably accidentally clocks the plot twist of the game on the very first run

Tries making you the drinks irl and uhhhh he shouldn’t

-

Zayne:

Of the games I’ve played, I think The Silent Age would be very interesting for him

Helps solve the puzzles (even if you’ve played it before)

Says he finds the art style to be “charming”

Sits through every piece of dialogue no matter how long and doesn’t go forward until he comprehends it

Gets so concerned when Joe starts coughing

Generally doesn’t like seeing the bodies

It makes him unsettled and has him thinking about those he’s lost to such gruesome deaths

The twist at the end absolutely fascinates him so much

And the SECOND twist pulls him out of it

Was lowkey hoping it would be something more… fantastical

But does have to admit that horror in the now-mundane is interesting too

I also would LOVE to watch him play Ace Attorney

Could you IMAGINE???

“This is illegal.” “I know, but so is murder.” “They don’t cancel out, you know.”

“If somebody on the witness stand is overreacting that much to one small detail, I think the judge should be a little more concerned about it.”

He’d kinda love Miles Edgeworth ngl

Understands exactly what he means with the entire “unnecessary feelings” business

Wishes the autopsy reports were more in depth, for his own amusement

Accidentally says “objection” when you’re trying to lie to him about not taking care of yourself

Can’t live it down for the next week, at LEAST

-

Sylus:

Little Nightmares, straight up

He finds the concept absolutely fascinating

Doesn’t play, but enjoys watching you play

“Careful, kitten. His long arms almost grabbed you.” “YES, THANK YOU, I NOTICED.”

Loves to see you so panicked and freaked out

Laughs if something small makes you jump out of your skin

But he does try to comfort you after chase sequences when it feels like you’re having a heart attack

Pulls you into his lap and promises to protect you

Will not complain if you choose to stay there for the rest of the game

Helps you solve puzzles if you’re struggling with them for too long

But he always asks to know if you want the answer

He doesn’t need you pouting and upset just because you couldn’t figure out how to do something relatively simple

Warns the twins not to scare you for a while

For their own safety tbh

You have a gun and you WILL use it

He’d also like watching you play Animal Crossing

You can and will bully him into joining

Will catch the scary or difficult bugs for you if you’re struggling

Doesn’t need to look up any guides to find the real artworks

The very second he can get his hands on the cat cap, it’s going to you

Might ask what color you want, but he’s more likely to pick it for you so its a surprise

Wraps it up too

“Sweetie, I got you a gift.” “Awe, really?.... Really, Sylus?” “Put it on, kitten.”

Luke and Kieran have their own town

It’s extremely flushed out and scary how impressive it is

Runs turnips with them so you have nearly a billion Bells to spend on anything you want

He lets you design his house, even if you make it silly

-

Rafayel:

Tell me why my first thought was Pokemon Art Academy

He would love it tho

Sitting on the couch together, watching over your shoulder as you follow the tutorials to draw the Pokemon

They turn out like shit but he claims to love them

Passing it over to him is a bad idea, but he won’t stop whining until you do

Creates an entire masterpiece

That creature is in a damn candid shot, shaded and everything

You should have known it was a terrible idea to show him the game

When he doesn’t feel like painting or just needs a break for his mind, he’ll play it

Honestly I see him at one of his own exhibitions, standing in the corner and playing it

Thomas complains to you about it all the time

Rafayel texts you about how much the Pokemon miss you and want you to come over :’(((

Beats the game

Somehow

Not just the lessons either, literally every single drawing they give you to do, he does it

When you look at the gallery, you can see when you stopped playing and when he took over

He’d also love Little Inferno

Sings the jingle all the time until you’re threatening him to shut up

Doesn’t honestly understand the appeal at first

He can literally make and control fire, why can’t you just give him some stuff to burn and he’ll do it for you

But he slowly gets the appeal

Especially when the batteries explode

Hates the pooping cat plushie with a passion

“If that thing ever shows up in a claw machine, we are NOT getting it.”

He either fully completes the game, combos and all, or he gets to the second catalog and gets bored, no in between

Will happily watch you play tho

Loves the way you focus on trying to decipher the clues for the combos

No shame, WILL be looking up the combinations and WILL spoil them for you just to bug you

May plan a date around throwing shit into a fireplace and watching it burn in real life

There’s a fire extinguisher nearby, just in case

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44

[mvshr00m-1]

NEW ROTTMNT AU IM MAKING!!!

Okay so hear me out yall... What if the rottmnt turtles were in Pokémon? Had their own Pokémon teams? Etc etc.

Over the past week or so I've been doing a bunnnch of posts on tiktok abt it, and finally have sat down to post the drawings I've done so far here as well!

Designs:

Through these designs I wanted to practice the way I draw clothes, do designs, and ofc colours! Also backgrounds ofc- just everywhere I've been lacking

Also wanted the turtles to all have their own personality and style, while also having small themes and details connecting em together

Even made silly lil designs with the turts with some Pokémon:

Very silly indeed

Never draw like that, nor have drawn Pokémon in ages, but I feel like it turns out alr lol-

In addition I also made full teams for each of the lads! With some little bits of context as to why aswell

(the highlighted names are the mains)

For Mikey it was just mostly food themed Pokémon + electric, cause yellow/orange lol- but at the same time I feel like he would have just a tank of a main, that he would train like fuck (with the help of raph) and the rest of his team, tho not the weakest, is mostly for fun.

Raph would be far have the best trained team, and these would be made of mostly rly big Pokémon, a lot of fire, ground, rock, dragon, fighting, all that sorta stuff- and then he just has one small Pokémon breloom who was probably one of his first Pokémon, and he got attached too and couldn't take out of his team :3

Leo's team, like Mikey, would be mostly for the look- with him having some of the 'prettier' Pokémon, or just blue Pokémon- he would 100% main the big gay looking duck (aka quaquaversal), with the Pokémon colours being simular to Leo's, and just both having a similar vibe- he would also have a abra who is known for their teleportation ability! Also just being really small and cute- (not sure if mystic would exist in this au, but for now I'll say it doesn't unless I state likewise)

Donnies team would, like raph, also be on the stronger side, with his being a lot of psychic, dark, ghost, steel, electric, etc- bro would have one scary ass team lmao. In addition this au's Sheldon would be his shiny rotom, who Donnie would even make little bits of techs and even a robot body Sheldon can possess

Design/drawing of that shown below:

Overall have A LOT of ideas for this au, and I don't think I've ever made a crossover au like this before- always being none for my bad future content/au's lol

[themultifandomgal]

From 2010- Alan Carr Chatty Man 2011

2011

Part 10

I stand nervously pulling down my skirt next to Liam as we wait to be introduced

“Stop worrying’ you look great” Harry says placing a hand on my shoulder

“That’s not it. I just don’t know why I’ve been put in such a short skirt. I feel like my ass is exposed”

“Here” Niall hands me his flannel to wrap around my waist. At least it will give me a little bit of coverage

“Thank you”

“It’s One Direction” I hear Alan Carr say and the audience cheer. I follow the boys down the stairs, holding on to the railing so that I don’t fall

“Hello gorgeous” Alan says hugging me after the others. We are lead you the sofa where we will be doing the interview. I sit in between Harry and Liam and cross my legs over “who wants a drink?”

“Me!” Niall says quickly making me laugh

“Now you two can’t have one because your only 17” Alan says to me and Harry

“I’ll have a pork scratchin” Harry responds

“Aww. Now some of your fans are pretty young. I saw one girl in her school uniform saying ‘Harry Harry give me some of your gravy”

“Eww” i scrunch my nose up as Harry places his head in is hand

“YN and Louis and Liam your all in relationships. How supportive are your partners?”

“Very supportive actually. James trusts me and I trust him” I give Alan a shrug

“Same here” Louis says smiling

“You lot are living the dream right now ain’t ya? and you boys have moved into swanky new bachelor pads. YN you’ve moved in with your boyfriend is that right?”

“Yeah that’s right” Niall says

“Do you live near each other?”

“Yeah. Harry an Louis live together, YN lives across from them and the rest of us have our own places in a complex” Zayn tells Alan

“Yeah me and Harry live together” Louis places his arm over Harry’s shoulders

“Do you still take your washing back home?”

“No they bring all their washing to mine and make me do it” I laugh

“Really?”

“Yeah. My washing machine seems to be on all the time”

“Hey we buy you food to say thank you” Louis says looking at me

“That’s true”

“Zayn your a bit of an int ya”

“Err I dabble”

“Is he a good drawer?” Alan asks and we all respond with yes’ or nods of the head

“What do you draw?”

“Mainly cartoons. I also draw the lads and YN sometimes”

“For Christmas Zayn drew me a picture of Cookie”

“Cookie is your dog right?”

“Yeah” I smile nodding my head

“Do you think you can draw me?” Alan asks getting a note pad and pen from behind his chair

“I can give it a go”

“Now I’m sensitive about me face so don’t make me look like bugs bunny. I have feelings to Zayn ya know”

The interview continues, Zayn shows Alan the picture which definitely isn’t his best work. We talk about our first album and the recording process. The boys, myself and Alan then have a dance off which I think I won.

[ninthe-xiv]

Of Broken Hearts and Dirty Tails.

(Continued from)

She knew that he was hurting.

She knew that maybe she shouldn't of taken his words to heart. They were not bound together the way lovers should be. They were just each other's comfort when the time called for it. She was there when he first parted ways with Vahalia, and he was there to buy her freedom from the brothel she worked at. He was also there when she returned recently after feeling like a fool for developing feelings for another.

So why did this moment bother her as much as it did. Smoke danced around her formed as tears began to shed, consuming her entire body until there was no presence of her left on The Dreadful Howl.

"I SAID LEAVE ME OR ELSE YOU CAN GO BACK TO WHORING THE STREETS OF UL'DAH! IF YOU ARE THAT INSECURE WHERE YOUR PLACE IS THEN MAYBE YOU DON'T DESERVE IT. I HAVE NO ISSUES WITH A COLD SIDE TO MY BED." The words plagued her mind as she returned to the very streets of Ul'dah. The very streets where it all began.

Covered in dark leathers from head to toe only revealing her beautiful oversized tail and white eyes, she made her way towards the darker parts of the streets and found her usual crate tucked in the corner of the alley. The jingle of the shiny bell attached to her tail was enough to alert some of her favorite customers to her usual place.

"She's here! The Alley cat is back!"

"I wonder what she has today."

"Do you think she will dance for us? Like old times?"

"Don't be silly she's with that captain."

She could hear their comments growing louder and louder, speaking about her as if she wasn't even there. She took her seat on the stack of crates finally pulling down her hood and watched several men and women of all forms of life rushing towards her. A soft sigh escaped her lips before that sinister smile curled on her face. As if she was performing a magic trick before their very eyes her hands swayed in the air showing they were empty, "To aid those who have trouble pleasing their lovers.. Need a quick fix of a broken heart? Or would you rather experience pure bliss." With a sway of her hand now between her fingers were 8 vials shaped like tears. Each a different color and each drawing the men and women closer to her form.

Watching both her favorite buyers and even new faces trying to beg brought such joy to her face. She quickly forgot about the events that happen previously until she felt the sudden yank on her tail, "Who fucking touched my tail?!" Ninthe's face turned extremely red turning to see it was a face she wasn't familiar with. A fragile male miqo'te who looked like they could of seen better days. His clothes were dirty and his skin was the complete opposite of Ninthe's. Where her skin was flawless and well taken care of, his was covered in scars, bruises and scratches from his very own hands.

"I-m sorry. I didn't mean too. I fell." The troubled male coward in fear trying his best to fix his mistakes but it only fueled her anger more. His dirtied hands tried best to comb her tail causing her to scream.

"Get your dirty hands off my beautiful tail!"

The sound of her voice echoing through the alley brought out another familiar face who wasn't pleased to see that she took his words to heart. Grabbing the male by his neck and pinning him against the wall, the bastard stared at the crowd around Ninthe, "I suggest leaving if you don't want to end up like this poor lad." The crowd scrambled like roaches seeking comfort hiding through the busy crowd. Still keeping the feening Miqo'te pinned to the wall his attention focused on Ninthe, "What are you doing here? You know you're not suppose to be here."

With her tail curled around her form and the tip being between her two hands she let out a little hiss, "I can be where I want to be. Like you said we are not bound to each other." There was a slight pout as her eyes stayed focused on her dirty tail, "Why don't you go back to your first love and go through memory lane with her?"

Her jealously only made him madder causing his hand to tighten around the male's throat more, " Do you not remember why you came running back to the ship in the first place and what you told me. What if those very people are still here searching for you and Umari." The sound of choking soon filled the air between the two of them but their focus clearly stayed on each other.

"Do you know how long it has been. They probably given up! I can be here when I want to."

"And if they didn't. What do I tell Uma?! What if your services are needed. Why do you continue to pout about someone who is married and has children?! What is really bothering you." He began to feel hands scratching at his forearm causing his focus to turn and growl, "Get out of here before you become a target practice." Without warning he tossed the drug addict towards the very crate Ninthe was once sitting. Voss walked towards Ninthe grabbing her by the neck, "Come here again without a guard and I won't brush your tail.. Ever again."

How the very threat of her tail not being brushed made her whip her head so fast and a death glare be given, "What did you just say? What won't you do with my tail?" Even with his hold on neck she was still able to be just as dramatic and when it came to her tail not being brushed, he was in trouble.

"I won't brush it. You know better than to be here alone. You could have taken Vilkas with you or even Thierry. Or not be pouting brat."

Oh how his words set a blaze in her eyes. That very same arm he used to reach out for her neck was now within her grasp, "How...DARE..." She twisted her body into his and despite her size threw him over her shoulder, slamming him against the dirt road, "You deny me of my brushing!" She hissed out looking down at him, "What bothered me was feeling replaced! What if I wouldn't get brushed. What if you and Vahalia did get back together and I needed my friend?! What if you abandoned me!" She pouted but the longer she stood there the more her face softened and tears started to form.

"What if you left.. Like everyone else did.." Tears streamed down her face as she grabbed her tail once more, "He made my tail dirty Vossy.. I want to go home.."

He looked up at here still in shock but expected no less from her. When she was upset her strength really shined. Taking a few moments he finally got up and pulled her into an embrace, "Stupid girl. There isn't a chance of me and her getting back together and even if there was.. It's too late. She has children and another on the way. I don't even think she knows..." He sighed before looking down at her, "Regardless who I am with you will always be a friend and I would not abandoned you just as I wouldn't abandoned Umari.." He lifted her wrist showing her the very similar leather bracelets the rest of the crew had, "Remember when I gave you this? What did it mean?"

Sniffles filled the air between them once more as Ninthe looked at her wrist with the leather bands and the wolf charm, "That I will always be apart of the crew no matter what.. But you had yours off..."

"Because love, I lost my friend and a member of our crew. I never gave them to Vahalia. My bracelet was burned with Valeria and right after you came Thierry came with another." Voss lifted his left sleeve revealing his new leather bracelet that bared a wolf and dove charm, "The same would be done if you passed, Thierry or Umari." He pulled down his sleeve and lifted her chin to look at him,

"I will always love Vahalia, little minx. Just as you will always love your first love. But that ship has sailed where as yours, yours may come back to you and there will come a time you will run into the woods and make beautiful little kittens and they will want their tails brushed for hours. You can't be replaced and never will be. This loss is a heavy one for me and it can not be healed with your toxins or laying on top of you. You're more than that now." He pressed his lips against her forehead as she only nodded to his words, "Can we get back to the ship so we can return home. Once we get home I am sure Umari can help wash your tail and I will give it a proper brushing."

She whimpered and sniffled, "Okay... Can you do the special oils I made too please." She even lifted her head and gave him those big soft adorable eyes that always made him cave each time.

"Yes dear. Even if it takes six hours this time."

There was an excited scream as she then hopped on his back quickly wrapping her arms around his neck and legs around his waist, "All of the fluff and shine again." She purred as she rubbed her cheek against his ear, "So why didn't you tell her you big dummy!"

He sighed wrapping his arms around her legs and began carrying her, "...." He didn't say anything as he carried her back to the Aetheryte simply listening to her ramble about her tail being brushed. She now understood why he was so broken and he understood her fears. It would be a long journey before they made it back to Hex's estate. When they returned he did what was promised, spoiling her with a very long brushing..

mentioned: @dreadfulhowls-xiv

soft mentions: @umari-xiv / @hex-xiv / @vahalia-cress

[gamebunny-advance]

1010 Malt Shop - Green Plushie

It's done. It's finally done. 1 week of blood, sweat, and tears (mostly blood), and he's done.

But I don't have a good enough camera nor photography skills to really capture his true charm ;w;

(Boring self reflection + more pics under the cut)

Anyway, this is the project I've been working on lately. No particular thing really prompted this. Like most things I do, it was started on a whim and finished with will power. I don't really have much experience with plush making or sewing, so despite his obvious faults, I still think he turned out pretty nicely for an amateur.

As per usual, I didn't have enough foresight to document the process, but I can nonetheless talk about the experience and point out some details of it.

Firstly, he's a pretty large lad. Here he is compared to the official DJSS plush and one of the test prints I did of "Melon Float."

Counting his straw, he's about 16 inches tall. I wasn't counting on him being so big, so I don't really know what I'm gonna do with him now...

I say this took a week, but I probably could have quartered that time if I had a working sewing machine, but since I didn't, the majority of the time was spent just sewing the thing together. (Btw, pattern over here.) The only fabric details that weren't hand-sewn are the circle/stripe details on his pants and shoes, and the bow/buttons on his shirt, which were all glued on.

The base pattern didn't come with any clothes, so I just adapted the body patterns into clothes. Structurally, he's basically wearing a second skin~ I did think about making the gloves for the sake of accuracy, but at that point, the only skin he'd be showing is his face, and I wanted to keep some soft parts out since his clothes are so stiff. They're so stiff, they can stand on their own and be stacked on top of each other without falling over.

(The plush has a harder time standing than his clothes do...)

Speaking of the clothes, let me say right now that it bothers me more than anyone else that the paint details don't color-match his pants. I was so high on the euphoria of starting this project that when I was out getting supplies, I saw some glow-in-the-dark paint and thought it'd be a great idea since he's a robot and all. The color on the bottle looked close enough at the time, and the original plan was that only the face would be painted with the other details being felt, but on top of me forgetting that effects paint takes a long time to build up layers, the green also dried differently than I thought it would, so it threw everything off, but I didn't have the patience to suck it up and repaint everything with a better color match. I did try to add a light gradient with my pastels like in the original art work, but it turned out so light that it's barely perceivable and totally not worth the clamminess I get when I touch chalk.

I think the most time-consuming part was his hair. While sewing the body together took 2 days, the clothes 2 days, and painting 1 day, the hair took about 3 as I had to figure out essentially how to do it myself on the fly. The first day was mostly trial and error. I did find a couple of online tutorials about how to get this loopy yarn hair, but the ones that I found both required tools that I didn't have. Eventually, I figured out a way to make it work, but I feel like it was less than efficient:

Basically, his hair is made with chunks of yarn that are tied together, and each chunk is individually sewn into place. I didn't count, but I think there are 13-14 hair chunks total to give him a full head. I do like how I made his bangs uneven to mimick how I draw his hair, but I couldn't quite pull off having his distinct hair-part and I couldn't figure out how to give the illusion of half his hair being straight without it looking weird. (I did try cutting the loops to let the strands be straight, but I didn't like the look of it, so I kept them all loopy).

This is a weird thing to say out of context, but I'm especially proud of the back of his head. Originally I was just going to paint on his undercut (which I'm glad I didn't because this paint REALLY hardens the cotton), so I got the bright idea to sew on individual strands of yarn for it. I think the effect is great, but I would not wish it upon my worst enemy, because to get the effect, I had to sew on each. strand. individually. The day I made the face poll, and said that was going to be a break day? I wound up doing this instead, and it took just as long to sew in those 20+ strands of yarn as it did the rest of his hair.

To segway into that poll, as you can see, I went with option 2 with some slight edits. Just the white/green eyes looked a little plain to me, so I added my usual dark pupil and added a green-star glitter to the center. I'm the one that has to live with this thing for the foreseeable future, so I made some executive decisions. Unfortunately, there were a few errors while painting, which you can clearly see in the above pictures OTL. I did try to seal off my painting areas with tape, but it still bled and stained in a few places. I don't really know if it's possible to clean the stains without ruing the rest of the face, but if you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them.

There are a few extra details that I guess are worth pointing out: he's actually wired. I put in some armature wire so he'd be able to move his limbs despite the stiff felt but... I didn't secure them that well, and the wire for his arms got displaced, so I currently can't bend them ;3;. I'd have to open him up again to replace it, and I REALLY don't want to undress him again to get to his back. The worst thing about this plush is that his clothes are so stiff that he's actually very hard to dress.

The wire in his legs is mostly still in place, so he can at least (kinda) sit.

I think the last thing worth talking about is the ice cream accessory. It was really simple to make (it's just air dry clay over foil + extra pieces), but it's cute, so I wanted to point it out~

It's a hair clip, so it can be taken on and off. Theoretically, it could be worn by a person, but it's a little heavy to be wearing it all day~ The camera/lighting really blew out the colors, but I think it turned out to be a nice creamy french vanilla color like I really wanted~

Other details like the glitter on his eyes/cheeks can't really be captured on my shitty ipod camera, but rest assured that he is pleasantly sparkling~

I think my biggest takeaway from this project has been materials: I thought that using felt would be a great alternative to having to buy an entire yard of fabric for a one time project, but besides the paint, it was the hardest material to work with. If I have to pick and choose, next time I think the body will be felt, and the clothes will be cotton, or maybe I'll actually invest in some fleece, so it can be soft all the way~ Since the clothes are removable, I could theoretically make him his default sailor suit and just replace the straw with his proper hair loop to convert this into a "canon" design plush, but we'll see what the future holds. I did get the felt colors to make my *other* babygirl, but given this experience, I may hold off on making him until a much later date.

[jezabatlovesbats]

Like I said already, I graduated high school this year. So naturally, because I'm somehow both lazy and busy at the same time, I don't draw anything for the occasion like I wanted to until the literal DAY before I start college. (Yeah, I'm not joking- my first day of college is tomorrow.)

Just because I've come this far since I joined Wattpad as a 7th grader doesn't mean I know how I did it. Oh, wait- yes I do. I do know. I guess I don't know my own brain. Anyway, it's because I had, and still do, a burning desire to reach out to you and tell you about all the silly little stuff I had on my mind. I also wanted to get to know people all around the cyber world who liked the same stuff I liked. (I hope I can find someone who does in my art college.) I wanted y'all to know that Unikitty and Minecraft: Story Mode were (and still are) my two most favorite things ever. For months, I begged my parents for it, and I eventually got it for Christmas. Over the years, I've come to like more shows, games and movies. I even realized that I liked doing musical theater, too. Since I joined Wattpad, I've expanded my posting to DeviantArt, this site, YouTube, and more.  I've probably told you all of this many times before, but I say it for a reason.

As I also said already, high school was as fun of an experience as it was... interesting. I couldn't finish my freshman year, and I missed my entire sophomore year, and if you survived 2020, you probably know why. I still passed, though. I think that junior and senior year made up for that. I was in the school musical both of those years, I got to attend my first prom junior year, and I went to Thespian Fest senior year.

Maybe the real high school experience was the friends we made along the way, as I've joked. But I wanted to surround myself with people I could get together with. As SpongeBob said, "I only want to hang out with my friends." And I did, 'cause we made every day the best day ever, especially the night we graduated. (The trampoline park we went to afterwards had some killer chicken tenders!) I took one of my friends to see Elemental before she went out of state for her college. I still keep in touch with a lot of them. Still, I'm really gonna miss everyone, and I wish them luck in their future endeavors.

As soon as school let out, my family took me on a trip to celebrate the fact that I graduated, and I made a video about it. You can watch it on my channel if you'd like.

But, I digress! There are a bunch of people here who I've just gotta show my gratitude for. You guys are part of why I keep going in life.

For @joyseer24, @agent-egg, @sundove88, and @pinkiemeowstic89, some of the earliest people I remember interacting with me.

For @erin-the-epic and @clg-artisa, who never fail to put a smile on my face.

(Also, special thanks to all the Unikitty fans here and on YouTube who called me out on my BS back in 2021.)

To @nevaehjwilliamsvaeh, a fan of Mao Mao and Six. I always love seeing you in my notifications!

@pocketlad, thank you for being my lad.

For @federthenotsogreat. It's nice to have a fellow Mario & Luigi fan to chat with.

@generalfoxy21, thanks for liking my posts and tagging me in your picrews.

To my fellow lovers of WALL-E: @cosmo-naute, @ohthewhomanity, and @defineshitposting. Computer, define friendship- the love that we shared.

For folks like @hazed-miner, @tailsofairies, and @milliemakesmistakes. Thanks to all of you cube kids for liking my Minecraft: Story Mode stuff.

To @choupiee. Anybody who likes both Unikitty and MC:SM stuff is a friend in my book.

There are also more Unikitty fans I have to thank, including @glitzycatart, @passionatepinkkittynew, @lizatheeddsworldaddict, @theunikingdom, and @doomlordsbutfunni.

@keith-neil, thank you for your Unitober challenge! I had a great time participating!

@askthechronoverse, I've got you to thank for liking my posts, reblogging them, and asking questions on the Big Bright World blog. And, thanks for keeping the Unikitty and Lego Movie fandoms alive. It's come to the point where I consider you a true friend, Fabri.

And to all my other watchers who weren't mentioned here, thank you for watching me and sticking by me. I don't know how to end this, so I'm gonna say that life is weird. 

[noatpad]

I've been rather busy with grad school projects lately (and it'll probably last a bit longer), but recently a friend surprised me with some gift art of my dnd lad and his own. Since the campaign has been put on hold (and also wanting to scribble another idea related to it), I had an itch to scratch.

This is a "what if" redesign of my boy, alongside some of my personal scribbles I've done of him over the past few months that I'm still fond of

So a bit of exposition!

I say "what if", 'cause Tint here is a special case where his design was intentionally left untouched, or well, intended to keep his outfit and general look the same as my art style matured. Reason why is that I wanted to keep it consistent with his ongoing campaign, and I found it fun to draw things as it developed. So any different takes of him I did (which there is at least one of, that being his Metronome look) was like an AU or was what actually part of the campaign, which you'll see with all the scribbles below.

Though the thing was that back then, I made Tint as more so a one-time, hypothetical character. At the time, I actually didn't think I'd ever get the chance to play dnd 'cause of constraints I had (how wrong I was). But hearing a couple of friends talk about how fun it was for them, I basically made him just to imagine that "what if" (just noticed that that first sketch was actually posted here, and yeah I even said it was a hypothetical on the canvas, hah).

Because of that though, I went for a rather basic design: purple tunic, round glasses, long scarf. Fun fact: foxfolk was picked mostly just because I was comfortable drawing it after scribbling Note and Clef so much (and magic seemed rather fitting for a fox given the ethereal side of folklore involving them). I still like him since I grew attached to playing him, don't get me wrong! But now that I know a good bit better on anatomy & character design, and Tint's story took shape, I figured it'd be fun to explore what he'd look like if I were to redesign him.

As a tangent, gosh it's so surprising to me how my ability to do anatomy and structure on a character has grown in just the past couple of years. Not to say I dislike it, but I conditioned myself to only be capable of drawing that style consistently. I think I only could've had this growth because of the friends and inspirations I slowly learned from.

And yeah! There's a lot more intent on his palette being themed around light or radiance (and I've been informed it looks reminiscent to the colors on Isaac from Golden Sun, which is a funny coincidence), and hopefully he looks more adventurous yet studious type of mage!

[frindoka]

my art timeline :-)

hi! i’m making this because i was inspired by maxpawb’s post i saw on toyhouse , which then led me to look at all my own art that is still somehow intact in my storage. this only details stuff from when i started posting online, not from when i started drawing traditionally as a wee lad. partially because my sketchbooks are lost and partially because i never really wrote down dates on my art to begin with.

a lot of dates are lost, due to the aforementioned problem of me not writing things down.. and also i have awful dissociative memory problems so there’s way too many gaps in my life. but i really did want to do this to see how much i could find & how much i could recollect.

content warning for VERY brief mentions of grooming, as well as minor mentions of real shitty friends

everything is under the cut! there might be another rb if or when i hit the image limit. curse you, tumblr.

date: ??? , i had to be around like. 11 at the time

this was when i joined warriors amino and i deleted my account because i got in trouble for having social media, LMAO. i eventually came back with a new one though. this is probably one of the only surviving art pieces from when i was THIS YOUNG, everything’s on an ipad that’s so broken it won’t even charge

i learned how to use the smudge tool on ibispaint at this time and thought i was the coolest bitch on the block for my blending

may 2019, i was like 12

my return to amino (and brief period on deviantart, which i never used again lmao) i was specifically on wings of fire amino + warriors amino. i was obsessed with airbrush shading.

this is one of my first fursonas which was a wings of fire fanflight called kitsunewings or smth. and also my first species character (he predated the dragon), a bayfox, which was drawn in krita. i never used krita again after this. coincidentally, i was also never active in bayfoxes after submitting him.

i crawled back to ibispaint no matter how many new free programs i tried.. (also tried firealpaca once. i couldn’t even figure out how to draw a line…)

may 2019, 12

the rise of my longest lasting fursona. she got stolen on a shitty app called anime maker once. i can’t remember if she’s older than the dragon, andromeda, but her older iterations definitelt are. this character was just the FIRST first fursona that i actually called that, since i didn’t even really know what a furry was at first

june 2019, 12

my first commission that i sold for like 30 deviantart points (i only used the site for commission purposes, as mentioned before i never really used it lmao)

also i tried to make a closed species on wings of fire amino. second image. it was terribly stressful ; this was around the time i met my longest lasting group of friends (hi freak bin! 5 years <3) and.. some of the worst people i’ve ever met in my life at the same time, LMAOOO

also here’s this kokichi ouma dog i made before i even knew what danganronpa was. i would find out much later, unfortunately

march 2020, still 12 (cause of my august birthday 😒)

there’s a really big gap in my files here. sad! my art kicks into gear at this point tbh, i like how i did the lines. wish i had the energy for such clean lineart still :-(

i think around this time i lost contact with the people who were my groomers (which i would realize later) and i’m thankful that i don’t even remember what their names are.

april 2020 - july 2020, 12

okay these aren’t awful actually. HOW WAS MY ART SO DETAILED. i admire baby frets power, jesus christ

i also did a design raffle when i hit 500 amino followers which is still the most i’ve ever gotten as a following. pretty crazy, i wonder who owns this dude now, i still think they’re cute

august 2020, 13

wow i’m 13 now look at that. i had to go digging for this one, only one i could find that was remotely close to my birthday (it’s the 25th!) this was a drawing for my friend bea lol

was still friends with some pretty shitty people from wings of fire amino, and it was really taking a toll on me. i don’t remember drawing as often as i used to during that time because of all of that.

december 2020, 13

i wish i could still draw backgrounds.. i need more practice

january 2021, 13

okay honestly these are really cute. i don’t know wtf kind of motivation i had for this much detail. the shading is pretty damn good

april 2021, 13

still going strong with the shading and backgrounds. not much to say around this time either lol. the first one is an older design of mine, but they’re pretty damn cute.. i wonder what happens to the desgins i lose track of? but ik this guy has a toyhouse profile i just refuse to look through my like. 200 pages of character designs on there…

july 2021, 13

PUDDLE! PUDDLE OH HOW I MISS YOU. my original favorite oc, i got so much art of him & drew him so much he reached 100 pieces in less than a month. i also met my best friend through this dude.

my art got.. blocky? here? idk what i was doing with all of that but it lasts for a while. lol

october 2021, 14

one year older and i got neo twewy for my birthday and it changed my life permanently. in several ways. anyhow, here’s frindoka furries.. they live in my files forever and will never b drawn again because they got redesigned several more times LOLLLLL

this is the month after i broke off permanently from my shitty old friends, with support of some other friends of mine. thank you guys… i did proceed to get harassed and made paranoid over my text messages by the shitty friends cause they were mad i got one of them banned from a furry adopts server for being literally dangerous. i do know it was them bc it was admitted to & they were some of the only people i gave my phone number to. i was kind of dumb for that

i was happy after my birthday because 13 was one of the worst years of my life. literal constant spirals and breakdowns because this is when i realize i was, in fact, groomed. i’m well and handling it better now.

january 2022, 14

my first d&d character, the mark of my eventual spiral into heath insanity… shadow how i miss you. i ended up redesigning them later on

march 2022, 14

i got into a pokemon arpg around this time and it took over my life for MONTHSSSS. kind of a shitty community in it though, but i appreciate how it improved my artwork. i’m back at the backgrounds! it’s shut down indefinitely now. rip eeveemporium

april 2022, 14

I FOT BACK INTO WAKFUUUU😭😭😭 also got pretty comfortable in my identity as a transgender nonbinary person, but i would get MORE comfortable about my identity later on :-)

this is going to be continued in a reblog because i did, in fact, hit the image limit. oopsie daisies

[giraffeinthebathtub]

My five Ws and an H and a Ż

In every good newspaper lead there should be an answer to the five W questions. Every journalist knows it.

I am not a good journalist, and neither a journalist even, but I think it a good idea on how to introduce myself - a lead of sorts of this blog. And those five essential questions are sure worth answering.

Treat this post as an artistic statement, public one too, personal even and maybe a little bit of political? We will find out soo enough.

Who?

A Polish lad with head full of stories characters and visions that torment him both during the mundane and exciting. A tormented soul but a potent one. A game designer. A programmer. A baker.

What?

Writing. Writing. And writing. I was always obsessed with it. Mostly for the first couple pages, then I got tired and gave up. But hopefully won't give up know.

Game design and development. Making my own effort to entertain and amaze.

When?

Only when I am the most uncomfortable, restless, supposed to be sleeping or getting some work done. And when the finals draw near.

Where?

From everywhere and that is mainly airports, buses, cars, trains, waiting rooms, work, bike seat (probably illigal), toilets (probably too much information) and occasionally from hell.

Why?

Because it is time to take my brain and make a little hole so it will not explode and maybe, just maybe it can serve as an archive of my insanity that will be studied by psychologists in a hundred years. (totally not the main reason)

.

.

.

And as I have also teased an H, I feel the need to explain that it should also appear in the lead of a story - but only slightly. A good journalist knows how to grip the reader with their H.

My How?

Short stories. Snippets. Opinions. Questions - both open ended and closed. Just anything that comes to my mind and future me will judge it as deserving the digital immortality.

I will not be fake, I don't like being fake and don't like following the trends. I will sometimes write stuff that can challage some ideals. Not doubting and not questioning the world around us makes us blind. I will not be blind. But it does not mean I don't welcome conversation. Ask me anything, challage me, I seek minds brighter than mine.

So that is it. Me and my mission. I will make sure to make myself uncomfortable, to question everything, subvert my expectations and grow. And you can watch this dumpster fire. For free.

And the Ż?, you are probably asking. Well the Ż stands for Żaba. A frog. The first protagonist of my little Book Of Lies. Curious? Well I won't hear nor read the answer so just stay tuned and see the story unfold.

Thank you for reading and hope you will stay here a while. But don't forget, I will tell you only lies.

[swirlmup]

Get ready lads, it’s a double feature this time for scene art made by moi!

First scene is the opening, and was my first assignment for this episode. I hadn’t gotten the chance to draw tyrian or hazel yet in my works for this series, so I really wanted to amend that by doing some villain work. However, shortly after beginning work on this scene, I had to put it on hold to work on the later scene which I’ll talk about later.

A redesign was done by one of our artists for Salem’s castle, heavily modeled after the emerald city in the wizard of oz, and I went off the art they did for drawing it.

Lots of people caught on to the presence of others at the castle! I’m so pleased when people pay attention -w- Basically they’re followers of Salem, and are the staff who inhabit and maintain the castle for Salem and her crew. You know, doing all the menial shit like storing the airship, cooking, cleaning, searching their mail, all that jazz. Hey, it’s a castle, and a castle has gotta have servants, right?

I wanted to sketch the characters in a more detailed way for this scene, I didn’t feel like copping out with one of my simpler art styles, even if it would’ve been slightly faster. Although I was still having to work pretty fast, so even these sketches aren’t as polished as I would’ve liked. xD I got put on this episode a week before it was due to come out(my own doing since I requested the scene), but even so I had confidence in myself I could get it done in time.

the heights are a little scuffed whenever Hazel’s on screen. He’s 8 feet tall, and technically should be even bigger next to mercury and emerald than he is here, but in the interest of easier framing and not having to shrink them just to fit their proper heights all together, I played it a little loosey-goosey and allowed the other characters to essentially stand on apple boxes when needed.

Drawing Tyrian being a creep is so fun~ I love creepy characters~ I saved drawing Tyrian for last, Emerald before him, Mercury before Emerald, and I drew Hazel first in all the frames. I wanted to make sure I was primed for drawing Tyrian, since his face is a complex shape.

Drawing such an exagerated, sparkle-eyed expression for Tyrian was also super fun. xD I wanted to match the rough sketch I made for this scene as closely as possible, which was sorta more spongebob-esque? it was this lmao

truly a lovely face for a lovely place.

Anyways, I was also glad I saved Emerald for one of the last characters I drew, since her design has a lot of intricate details. Her guns I 100% half-assed though lol, I figured if I could make them vaguely convincing then it’d be fine.

I had to think carefully about Tyrian’s approach in this scene. Whether he would cut his cheek like he does in canon, whether he walks forward to cut his shoulder, or grabbing it like he does here. In the end I decided him grabbing her blade and cutting his hand was more malicious, especially since he’s in the middle of lecturing Emerald about the importance of not spilling blood on Salem’s hollowed ground. It’s like he’s purposefully trying to create an excuse for himself to hurt Emerald, consequence-free. In addition, it communicated strongly the amount of control that Tyrian had over the situation, even with Emerald brandishing her weapons, she has no power over him.

I always loved this scene in canon!! i’ve been an emerald/mercury stan since the two were introduced, so i gotta appreciate the little breadcrumbs as they come lol

this frame is actually pretty accurate in terms of the height different between tyrian and hazel. tyrian be a toll man

prancing tyrian~ it was about this frame that i really began to understand the sort of character tyrian was when drawing him. in that he’s like a preacher for a cult who was also given liberal permission with a knife.

not much to say about this shot. it’s nice that there’s an airship landing pad at salem’s castle and a direct entrance from there lol.

Now the second scene I worked on! I actually wasn’t assigned this scene, but an emergency came up where the artist who was originally supposed to do this scene just wasn’t available anymore. This was a cowabummer, because it was actually one of the most important scenes in the episode and had been listed as high priority. Seeing the distress and emergency of the situation, I put my first scene on hold and volunteered myself to take over the jaune and saphron scene, presented celtic with the finished rough sketches first thing in the morning.

Since speed was once again the #1 priority, I opted for a simpler and looser style. However, I didn’t fall fully into my old stickman style, and instead ventured to create something of a new iteration on that style? My art has been pushing towards smaller/more realistic facial features, and I started wanting my stickman style to reflect that somewhat.

I went through a couple different iterations of this frame before I decided it would be best if it was shot from the other side of the door. I was having issues illustrating both jaune sitting down and saphron standing and looking after ruby in the same shot, as well as showing saphron’s worried expression. In the first iterations I favored putting the camera over on Jaune’s side and letting him take up most of the frame, but I like this positioning much better.

This was kinda tricky to draw. I don’t normally draw characters rubbing their brows to communicate weariness, so it was an interesting challenge. Although it turned out more of a forehead rub than a brow rub, lol

I love it when I can be economical with my art, and a single drawing can last for an entire exchange.

serious jaune making a serious face, fighting back against the dark of saphron’s realism, oh yeah.

I may not be very good at drawing people in foreshortened poses, but i still think it’s fun xD I like how tender this moment between Jaune and Saphron is, she gives off such kind big-sister vibes, and Jaune takes her advice seriously.

And that covers it for this episode! Thanks so much for reading, and I look forward to seeing you all the next time there’s art to share for Fixing RWBY!

Toodaloo!

[adventuringalchemy]

Heya! P:

I read through some of your asks answers during work and it gave me an idea. [Your blog gets more questions/is more active than other MC ask blogs I follow atm, so I stalk ya a lil' bit hhhh don't mind me]

I am not the anon who sent the AU ask, I am not knowledgable enough of MCSM to ask big questions, -wheeze- but some ungodly possession gave me an image in my mind and is now bothering me. I gotta write it down somewhere, so my first choice is to pester you with it. /hj

For some reason when it got mentioned that Jesse would spawn a monster, or some other threat, that then blew out of proportion [haphazardly so], I just saw an image in my head of them drawing a summonig circle/building a shrine Herobrine style. Crudely, but alas. A terribly bad idea but also "This ain't ever gonna work,"-like so it wouldn't hurt, surely!

What if they mistakenly summoned Crona, glitchy admin lad, with that. Pulling them from their own broken, shifting server over to theirs. The spiky beasty is so nonchalant, floating about, chill and unbothered but the MCSM world isn't acustomed to a glitchy mess like Crona, so things around them just break, glitch, shift, affected by weird effects, physics break in a radius and spread. Posing as practically a bug in the system.

Ah- It doesn't fit timeline-wise since none of the main cast actually ever met an admin at that time probably in the AU [I don't know how tightly woven the MCSM timeline is, I just know the admin shenanigans come after the witherstorm, after the portals, when Jesse is already aknowledged as a hero, and Beacontown got built? Romeo wouldn't really have his eyes on Jesse if none of that ever happened, I guess?], therefore they wouldn't have reference or concections what a big deal this is and big confrontations later interactions could pose are practically nullified in that case, but the image won't leave my brain. -wheeze-

Soooo! Maybe that idea doesn't really fit into the mentioned AU [and the timeline shifts give me a headache, since I have poor understanding of the characters/timeline in the first place. My diligent mind wouldn't give me a rest unless I study MCSM history if I were to attempt to play a part in that AU /hj]

-But I feel the idea itself is worth savekeeping since you expressed interest in RPing with me and that character. I think I'd absolutely attempt to trial run through. Just wanted to share. Thinking what big of a deal it would actually be- and the idea of basically summoning Herobrine is such a nostalgia trip for myself! -wheeze-

[I actually considered whether to DM you rather, but I gotta stop lingering in the shades, so here goes this gköwkflfük]

[I enjoy how you answer asks in detail and share your thoughts, bet other people like to read though those too, so let me indulge. P:]

@sollyraptor sent an ask .

no but i adore the idea of them trying to summon herobrine. i can TOTALLY see the vibes fitting into mcsm! a lot of the story has little, niche topics that bring back the nostalgia of minecraft itself. going to defeat the ender dragon being a huge part of it.

i don't necessarily see jesse making the mistake personally because i feel like they would have a little more brains than axel. they would do the research to summon herobrine. they would make sure that everything made perfect sense and fit together to ensure that that would be the outcome. jesse isn't impulsive ( unless you hurt their friends / they're angry ) , but axel most certainly is. i can totally see axel just wanting to get it done and over with and messing up the structure that summons herobrine. he'd put the wrong block, put the wrong flowers, do something. and in comes crona, who is probably much, much more destructive and would cause much more havoc.

i love the idea of crona bringing in glitching to their world. just because they haven't met admins yet doesn't mean they can't meet one sooner. it's an au so anything goes. and the lore of mcsm is a little different than minecraft lore to begin with so mixing in some of our touches wouldn't hurt at all.

i imagine that if this were to happen, ivor would want to use to command block to get rid of crona. something with powers that the command block has, they could very much use the command block to get rid of it. that would be his biggest idea at least, very much like how he thought of the way to truly get rid of the witherstorm; destroying the very thing that made it.

but he would have no idea how to get rid of the glitches. he would try magic, he would try enchantments, but i imagine nothing would really work. glitches don't just go away. they are made because there is flaw. and crona is flawed. meaning that nothing can really save it. ivor would spend years trying to figure out how to get rid of it, only to never find the answer. poor man would work himself to death.

honestly this sounds like it could turn into a fully plotted epic, which are my absolute things to write. i adore long threads that have a huge story from start to finish. i stay the most in character with them, i get the most excited for, and keep the most in my brain. i think about it. i want art for it. i make headcanons for it.

please do this with me.

[fangbanger3000]

get to know people better tag game

thank you @savriea and @graysparrowao3 for tagging me im sending you sunshine and siamese kittens

three ships: assuming this is best limited to being within the bg3 fandom (don't get me started on daenerys missandei i'll never stop), i'll try to keep it within those means!

lae'zel x shadowheart: i mean come on. need i say more? hot women with religious trauma who hit hard and love harder. fuck. my babygirls. my angels.

aradin x rugan: fucking hear me out. first of all: this is @graysparrowao3's fault. read their fics if you haven't. second of all: that complicated relationship between a young man and an older man who somehow appears as his father figure but also an object of his desire at the same time. daddy issues x1000. does he want him to rail the daylights out of him or does he want him to pat him on the shoulder and tell him "you did good, lad"? i don't know. aradin doesn't either. rugan hopes for the first option.

wyll x astarion: besides astarion canonically having a crush on wyll, i just love the idea of these two. astarion's hatred for heroes and wyll's conflicting must save everyone i am the hero of tralalala but also here's my infernal patron. i don't have a lot of working brain cells right now but these two are the ultimate grumpy x sunshine and i love it.

first ship: i honestly don't know! i think the first i can think of is from when i was like ten reading shiver by maggie stiefvater for the first time. i really wanted grace and isobel to kiss. and then i really wanted sam and cole to kiss. but unfortunately everyone was straight for some reason.

last song: famous last words (an ode to eaters) by ethel cain!

last movie: everything everywhere all at once. for like, the sixth time. i sobbed just as hard as the first time and i had to call my mom afterwards.

currently reading: nothing! i've barely read anything that wasn't fanfiction this year, which is insane. my goal was 60 books and i have finished one (1), which was feed them silence by lee mandelo. i was also reading electric idol by katee robert, but then i lost my kobo :((

currently watching: true blood and hotd

currently eating: earl grey with a teaspoon of honey

currently craving: sleep but also finishing my chapter

favourite colour: purple. all shades. but especially this one. and this one. and this one.

favorite flavour: black currant and cherry get me every time

current obsession: aradin. aradin. aradin. drawing. my own fic and my upcoming fics, which i think about much more than i should.

last thing I googled: i googled the @ - sign because i don't know how to type it on this keyboard lmaooo

Favourite season: fall. always.

skill i’d like to learn: i really wish i was better at drawing. it's always been very daunting to me because i'm a if-i'm-not-great-straight-away-i-give-up kind of person. but i'm practicing! i've been drawing @tiefling-enjoyer's dagon a lot, alongside my own oc, which has been fun!

best advice: don't do it, eleanor told the little girl; insist on your cup of stars; once they have trapped you into being like everyone else you will never see your cup of stars again; don't do it; and the little girl glanced at her, and smiled a little subtle, dimpling, wholly comprehending smile, and shook her head stubbornly at the glass. brave girl, eleanor thought; wise, brave girl. - Shirley Jackson, haunting of hill house.

i have no idea who has been tagged but i'll do @tiefling-enjoyer because hi my dear and also @rosymornmonastery because she hates it when i tag her in stuff <333

[petrodragonicapocalypse]

ooookay if you insist [vibrating with excitement about the opportunity to self indulgently ramble about the blorbo meanings i invented for songs i love]

sleep on the floor - it's a cute road trip song to get started. ignore the vaguely ominous undercurrents hehe

something good - reccomended by my good bestie @masterbaiting and not going to lie i am a little bit obsessed with this song now. the lyrics are scarily poignant... it licherally uses a bullfight as a metaphor for the end of a relationship. im screaming. it's also a chill and vibey bop somehow

pompeii - yes everyone's heard this song a million times but it still fucking slaps. stephen pov it's uhhh about disaster and nostalgia and reliving memories and everything going to shit. and if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing's changed at all

strawberry fields forever - general surrealism and weird memory stuff. no i don't know what any of the lyrics mean this one is riding on pure vibes

do i wanna know? - okay this is THE ship playlist song of all time to me. i was gonna list some lyrics here, but like. ALL OF THEM. bunny pov, especially on the night of the matador suit escapade, but also lowkey stephen pov. tempting to put the entire AM album on here tbh, special mention to fireside and why'd you only call me when you're high

norwegian wood - broadly about stephen and eloisa i think. lighthearted yet melancholic atmosphere, grounded and ordinary in a kind of dreamlike way, and reminds me of the slightly awkward interpersonal interactions that b&tb draws on a lot.

welly boots - okay this song. THIS SONG is supposed to be about a father and daughter relationship i think but like. THE NARRATIVE THEMES APPLY. ghost!bunny pov. "and when you scream that it's not fair / it's like i've gone off to the coast / left you behind, just standing there / pretending not to see my ghost" OUGRGHGEGHH

icarus - hhhrgr bunny core :(

never let me down again - reccomended by the extremely correct @catboyrightsdefender, this one is uhh pretty obvious and also kinda devastating. genius lyrics says its supposed to be about drugs but real ones know that it's actually about stephen turnbull's fun times in the captaincrabmobile

hurricane drunk - BUNNY CORE BUNNY CORE

line without a hook - another classic of the blorbo playlist, stephen pov, OH BABY I AM A WRECK WHEN I'M WITHOUT YOU, etc

mary on a cross - i can't explain it you just have to watch this

in a week - so normal about this one

the night we met - I DONT KNOW WHAT IM SUPPOSED TO DO, HAUNTED BY THE GHOST OF YOU. you understand.

wish you were here - the main theme here is pretty obvious, but "a leading role in a cage" has me thinking about storytelling and self-imprisonment and predetermined destiny 🤔 also the fishbowl metaphor seems relevant

the loneliness of a tower crane driver - ostensibly this is about a completely unrelated scenario, but it has to be said that elbow do sad northerner melancholy like nobody else. at heart it's about isolation. (actually most the time i dont really like elbow, HOWEVER the seldom seen kid is easily in my top 10 albums of all time. the bones of you was very nearly also on this playlist.)

northern lad - i love tori amos so much and this song always makes me tear up for some reason. its about knowing when to move on from someone when they've left and the memory of them is doing more harm than good. stephen pov, shoutout to simon farnaby for being northern ig

bedshaped - first off this is a fucking banger. stephen pov, "you'll follow me back with the sun in your eyes / and on your own" "you'll knock on my door and up we'll go / in white light, i don't think so". i can make any song be about bunny's ghost WATCH ME

tour death song - i believe this one was written about the struggles of being a touring musician in the pandemic, but let's be real we all lived through lockdowns and maybe relate a bit too much to stephen on that front. "lock myself and my thoughts / not for the first time / listen my mind ain't what it used to be" yeeeah

blinding - i'm gonna need to have a word with florence about this one. stephen pov. just... look at the lyrics

ghosting - actually this song is a little TOO on the nose it's kind of weird. ghost!bunny pov. that's one specific ass situation you got there

almost (sweet music) - aw man, the definition of bittersweet. i'm thinking like post-canon when stephen has met up with eloisa again. "i've got some colour back, she thinks so too / i laugh like me again, she laughs like you".......... 😭😭

alone again or - we all know this one, the original bunny x stephen song as decreed by paul king himself in the end credits. every time i hear that guitar kick in i'm yeeted back in time to the emotional devastation of finishing the film. the title of the first ever b&tb fanfic. win after win for this tune.

okay that's all!! i had so much fun writing this i wish thinking about how songs are like things that happen in films was a career option. sorry for the infodump hope you guys liked the playlist lol

apparently b&tb nation is in our collective feels this fine wednesday so it seems like a good time to post my obligatory hyperfixation playlist teehee

[saltymongoose]

OK SO ignore my last ask (and delete it too that'd be great-) and ignore the fact I'm too lazy to come up with actual dialog- BUT I enjoy the thought of Player and Spy being bastards and just flirting with each other jokingly (or not on Spy's end) and making the boys much more irate with him. Ofc Spy notices and maybe turns up the charm because 1) you're going along with it, and 2) they're not going to do shit while you're around. AND to fix what I said last ask because I was a bit too excited while making it,, I think some of the mercs might get crushes on the Player. Not to the point of obsession tho! Normal lads who just love the person who's been watching over them, cheering them on, and helping them in the most dire situations!! I think the mercs most likely to fall in love are Scout, Demo, Soldier, and maybe Sniper.

HGJKGVK OMG WALNUT This is absolutely perfect, I love it. I 100% advocate for the Player being a bastard lmao, it's so fun. And btw, how are you so good at drawing Spy?! The expressions and everything are perfect (with the Player too lol, I love 'em), he looks great. :D I lowkey feel like every time I see your art of a character - any character - they end up becoming one of my favorites just because of how you portray them. As is the case here. <3333

I think the Player would be more impassive in reaction to Spy’s flirting at first, if not just because they think he’ll grow bored with it after a time. (That’s why he’s doing it - for entertainment, right?) However, after a period of time, he surprisingly doesn’t. You’re not sure if it’s because he has a genuine interest or if he just likes getting reactions from you (and the boys), but you figure that if he’s gonna keep at it, you might as well play along (for fun, if nothing else).

Spy would initially be a little surprised when you first turned the tables on him, giving an equally flirtatious response with a coy wink when he said something to you. However, you wouldn’t know this, as he was quick to shoot back with a compliment without losing any composure (he's Spy, he's not gonna be entirely phased by something like this. Not visually, at least.). From then on, he’d definitely try to do it more often, calling you pet names (in french, of course), complimenting your beauty whenever he sees you or you meet eyes, or just giving you looks that imply something more. (If you seem so open to it, why not dial up the charm more?)

In return, you tell him how much you love his accent and the sound of his voice, and just how nice you think he looks in his suit. Sometimes you even call him terms of endearment as well, even when you aren't technically "flirting back". (Is this something of an inside joke, or are you beginning to actually feel something for him? He can't really tell. But he'll go along with it regardless.)

Spy knows that you’re probably doing it in a joking way, despite how genuinely charming you are, but he can't help but feel just a bit warmer when you shower him with compliments in response to his own. (It's nice to get attention from someone as great (and important) as you, what can he say.) And, if he grows to like you more than platonically, then perhaps he can use this to get closer to you. It might be a bit more difficult to assure you of how true his affections are, but you are more than worth the effort and time that would take.

Plus, the reaction from those four "grunts" you have as vessels is also very amusing to him. He can feel them glaring at him when you flirt with each other, the weight of their stares settling a tad uncomfortably on him. But the odd feeling of happiness he gets from you returning his gestures, even if it isn't entirely sincere, is enough to ignore it. He also knows that your other vessels wouldn't dare try anything with you there anyway, so if he plays it up a bit more to get more amusing reactions from them, there's no harm in it. For him, anyway.

As for your grunts, "irate" is definitely a good descriptor for how they are. "Incandescent with rage" is also a fitting term.

They already loathed Spy for how he flirted with you, but they assumed that your supposed disinterest would make him quit it. However, all hopes for this were thrown out the window the moment they saw you go along with it. They're nearly shaking from how angry they are, and you honestly think you might've heard Hank growl at him once when you two were close to him. Your compliments towards Spy's voice are a real gut punch to Deimos (that was his thing!!), whereas Sanford and 2BDamned are questioning why you'd bother doing so. (There must be an underlying reason. Do you do this because you're both humans? What is so damn likable about Spy?)

To them, it doesn't even matter that you're joking; that flirting is something you should be doing with them.

(I can also see some of the bolder of your grunts trying to be more openly flirty to garner a similar response, with varying effectiveness. Deimos is great with it (he flirts with you sometimes anyway), while 2B and Sanford are a bit shyer with such things. Hank is another deal entirely.)

I also agree that some of the Mercs would probably get crushes on the Player. You’ve been with them for such a long amount of time, supporting them in their fights, keeping them alive for as long as you can, and cheering them on as you brought their team to victory again and again; they value you a lot, and after getting to know you personally, it is likely that they would come to see you in a more romantic light. Especially the more "open" of them (i.e. Scout, Demo, Soldier, and arguably Sniper), since you'd get to know them first. (Also if you "mained" them in TF2, since they'd have the knowledge that they were already your legitimate favorite out of the bunch. They'd also be the closest to you that way as well.)

It's a development from being starstruck to noticing how red they get when you come too close, and the feeling of butterflies in their stomachs when you compliment their work. They think it's a bit silly at first, but it's not exactly a bad thing. It doesn't get in the way of their work that much, and if they put in a bit of extra effort to try to impress you a little bit, that just benefits the team too. (Although some are far more obvious with their little crushes than others. Scout.)

It also helps that you know pretty much everything about them, and understand how they are. There's no judgement with you or trying to alter how they do their jobs, you can understand their idiosyncrasies and mentalities perfectly and work with them to get the best results. And, more importantly, you truly value them, in a way their previous bosses hadn't. So, they like you. Simple as that.

(Although, obsession is very unlikely, as they're more "normal" than the grunts somehow (at least in this way) and have better views on interpersonal relationships. They're just average eccentric mercenaries that might have kind of a thing for their Player, which would be expected after years of "knowing" you and being supported so selflessly, only to actually meet you and see that you're even kinder than expected.)